Re4r Leon - Tumblr Posts
the ruler and the killer. || r. evil (one)
summary: a strange village, missing hikers, a missing girl - Kara's on her first official mission since joining the DSO.
pairing: leon s. kennedy x oc
disclaimer: descriptions of violence, blood + gore, references to re2
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“Kara, you can use any weapon - the key is to focus and control your breathing.”
Her father crouched next to her as she drew back the arrow, the fletch barely touching her cheek as she focused on the doe peacefully grazing grass from across the way. She took a deep breath as the cold November air nips at her nose and cheek. She felt the tips of her fingers going numb as she waited patiently before deciding to fire, watching the arrow fly.
She heard the doe cry into the air before falling over into the grass.
Kara opens her eyes and she’s still in the Jeep heading to Valdelobos, this was her first actual mission outside of doing damage control on behalf of the DSO whenever an outbreak occurred stateside. She looks out the window at the trees, how they were dying, and how she knew in a matter of months that it would be winter again. Her knowledge of nature and everything that was taught to her by her father was the reason that she was a good partner for the mission to save the President’s daughter.
“You alright?” Leon asks, she glances over at him and nodded, “Nightmares again?”
Leon Kennedy was probably the only friend that Kara had, and only because Kara didn’t have much time for much else when she wasn’t dealing with June or work. He’d been the golden boy of the DSO, and Kara could expect it - he was a cop when they first met six years ago, and it was because of him that she and June survived alongside Claire and Sherry. But outside of that, it seemed that he understood her better than most.
He lived with her and June, and whenever she had a fit of nightmares or he did - they were the go-to for each other’s comfort.
She shakes her head, “No, just, dreaming about the first time I went hunting with my dad.”
“Ah,” Leon says as he looks ahead at the two cops escorting them, “you drool by the way.”
Kara smacked his chest, causing a quiet laugh to escape Leon before she huffs, “How much further?”
“Can’t be too far, however, our escorts are more or less excited about actually getting us there,” Leon says before looking down at the photo in his hand.
Kara looked down, the photo was of the woman they were both here to look for. More so Leon rather than her. Blonde bob, a kind face, and wearing an orange jacket and red scarf, it was the last photo taken of Ashley Graham shortly before her disappearance from the Georgetown campus. Kara sighed. She hoped that the girl would be alright -
“So, tell me, Yanqui...” One of the officers, specifically the one in the passenger seat spoke, “why did you come to this horrible place?”
He glances over at Kara, “Not much of a place for a honeymoon, it’s as close to nowhere than I’ve ever seen.”
Kara rolled her eyes and for once, held back her tongue as Leon spoke, “Let’s just say... looking for someone.”
The cop laughs just a bit, “That someone must be pretty important, eh?” He glances over at his partner, “Can you believe it? These two show up, and the Chief himself says, ‘help them’...”
Leon rolls his eyes, “Well I’m sure you boys didn’t come all the way out here to roast marshmallows, or maybe you did.”
“Or to maybe sit on their thumbs,” Kara says, making Leon chuckle.
The cop shakes his head as he looks between the two, “You two have a very strange sense of humor - I’m going to let you in on a little secret, just between us, a lot of people have gone missing around here and it’s been that way for a while now.”
Leon was rather unbothered, “Well, then it should be just another day in the office... right?”
Kara’s interest becomes more piqued as the officer continues, “Well, I mean, just last week there was a search for some missing hikers.”
“I’m sure you’ll do you best to help us,” Leon says
Kara eyes the officer, “I promise, we don’t get startled easily.”
The jeep later comes to a halt and the officer steps out, Kara sighs as she gets out of the car to stretch. She looks around, the dying trees reminded her of the few times she went to stay at the cabin with her father during deer season. She could still remember learning how to set up the stands prior, wearing her grandfather’s heavy coat to mask her scent from the animals, to think that she was out here only because of those moments, it was those skills that had become a second nature to her.
She sighs, Leon spoke up, “You sure you wanna be out here?”
“Could’ve asked me that back at the airport,” Kara says as she looks over at him, “I’m kind of already out here.”
“Fair point,” He says as he looks around, “have you looked at the maps for this place?”
“So much that I can see ‘em behind my eyelids at night,” Kara says as she gets off the jeep, she glances around until she spots a familiar plant, “Hey wait a minute...”
Leon follows behind her, “Kara, wait -”
“Relax,” Kara says as she plucks the sprig, the smell hits her nose, “It’s rosemary, good for muscle spasms and headaches, also tastes really good on chicken.”
He chuckles as she hands him the sprig as she stands back up, he studies it, “How do you know?’
“Well, Mom used to dabble with home remedies despite her being a nurse,” Kara explains as she looks at the bush, “Strange it’s growing in the mountains - well, more so these parts, it grows near the coast.”
“Seems like there’s a lot of strange things around here,” Leon comments as he glances around, he looks up to see a raven flying overhead of them, “Gotta keep our heads together.”
“Right.”
Leon Kennedy has known Kara Ridenour for about six years now, and never did he think he would find himself entangled in her life. Especially moving in with her sometime after Raccoon City, he had become a close friend as the two only had one another with everything that had happened.
He didn’t want her to come with him - but it was heavily suggested for two reasons; Kara was a survivalist, a hunter who could be a great help and the other, making it just a bit less terrifying for when they find Ashley. Despite the reasoning, he knew how much she didn’t want to leave home, how much she didn’t want to leave June. Plus, the last time he had a partner for a mission, it didn’t exactly go as planned.
“I got you something,” Leon tells her, eyeing her, “it’s in the trunk of the Jeep.”
Kara raised her brow and followed him to the back, he pops the door and reveals a large black bag aside from his own gear. He grabs the bag and opens it up, “I talked to the weapons development team about coming up with something that you might be a bit more comfortable with, still keep that pistol but…”
Her eyes widened at the black recurve bow in front of her, “Here I thought you said bows were impractical.”
He chuckles, “There’s a bit more a kick to at least the arrows. They’re marked properly; red is explosive, black is regular run of the mill, crafted to be more silent in case we run into trouble.”
Her delicate fingers dance along the leather quiver and the fletch for the arrows themselves, “You think we’ll run into trouble?”
“Not too crazy to think so,” He says as he looks over at her, “you like it?”
“Yeah, feels so… special,” Kara says as she pulls out the quiver and slings it across her body, “so, it’s specially crafted for bioweapons and all that?”
Leon nodded as she goes to grab the bow, “Yeah, pulled a lot of favors - I know how you feel about guns so, thought this would be a nice little ‘first mission’ present.”
She chuckles, cracking a small smile, “God, is it that painfully obvious?”
“I live with you, I know you,” Leon says nudging her, “I know it’s not ideal but you’re capable and I believe in you, if that means anything.”
“It means a lot,” She says, looking up at him - he found himself momentarily stunned by her hazel eyes, they were more blue than anything, but so pretty in the little bit of sunlight coming down, “thank you, Leon.”
He gives a small smile, and he could feel it that maybe this was the time to tell her what’s been brewing in his mind for the last six years but he backs off, he looks around. It had been awhile since that cop walked off.
It was then the partner got out of the Jeep, “Hey he’s been gone awhile - maybe you both should go and take a look. I’ll watch the car, don’t want to get a parking ticket and all that.”
Kara rolls her eyes and gets herself situated, bow in hand and quiver across her back as the two start walking. Leon looks over, “So much for helping, huh?”
Kara shakes her head, “They weren’t gonna help regardless.”
The two began walking into the forest, she was so used to a few birds singing here and there but in this instance, the woods were silent. Not a song to be heard.
“No birds are really out,” Kara says as she crushes a leaf under her boot, “strange.”
“Isn’t that normal?” Leon asks
She shakes her head, “I mean it is and it isn’t, aside from the crow we saw - it’s been silent, I don’t like that.”
“This place gets stranger by the minute,” Leon spoke as he looks around while they walk, “How far could that guy have gone?
The rancid smell of decay hits her nose as they stumble further and find a deer carcass. Kara covers her nose as Leon’s nose scrunches in disgust, “Gross.”
Kara takes her hand off her nose, “Definitely. I’d say at least if you’re planning on taking the bones - could’ve, I don’t know, actually cleaned the corpse? Take the insides and well, let nature and the sun do the rest.”
Leon eyes her, “Speaking from experience?”
“Yeah, Dad would keep the skulls after using the meat for jerky and really whatever,” Kara says as she kneels down to get a closer look, she noted the melted red candles that surrounded, “this… this is more sacrificial, see the candles?”
Leon nodded as he put a few of the candles out, “Think it’s a cult?”
Kara’s eyes met his, “I don’t know but this is all still fresh, at least maybe thirty minutes to an hour, tops. So whoever left it here would be…” she looks around before spotting the rest of the trail, “there, grass is down so someone must’ve stepped through recently.”
“Where would I be without you?” Leon spoke as the two started walking again, “seriously - how do you know this stuff?”
“Told you before - I grew up in a small town in the Arklay Mountains, Dad was a cop and Mom was a nurse. Dad didn’t have a son so I went on all the hunting trips with him, he was a survivalist but maybe a tad bit bordering on doomsday prepper.” she spoke as a bird flew overhead, “I mean, he’d be happy to know it wasn’t all for nothing, at least.”
“You grew up near Raccoon City, how did...”
She sighs as she looks ahead, “Mom worked in the city, our little town was at least four or five hours away, but there’d already been a few reports of cannibals in the mountains, everyone around town suspected it was all some scary story, ya know, I mean, we were a month away from October.” The memory sent a shiver down her spine, “Mom was the first to get sick because she worked at the hospital, no meds were working, and we were already broke - so it was a lot of barely getting by, and Dad... well, he thought Jesus could fix it. When meds and prayer ran out, Mom died, we just didn’t think she’d get back up.”
They came to a stop at a hunting cabin, decrepit and definitely could’ve seen better days. More of the rancid smell of decaying flesh hit Kara’s nose. She stepped across the threshold first before Leon, a quick glance over, “I think whoever lives here is the one sacrificing animals, look.”
She points to where there were buckets of entrails among other things, some of it didn’t feel too entirely human, “They’ve been busy.”
“Let’s head inside, yeah?” Leon says as he steps in front of her, the two walk inside the cabin as he calls out, “Anyone home?”
Kara looked around, the house was dirty and dilapidated, it had gone to ruin and the candlelight made her wonder if someone was still here. She also noticed strange effigies, she stepped away from Leon to pick one up, the strangeness made her think of The Blair Witch Project.
“Kara.” Leon spoke, she turned and he gestured for her to follow him.
She does and the pair walk into a room where a bearded man mutters to himself in Spanish, Kara looked down and noticed the cop’s badge. She picked it up as Leon made his way around the table to talk to the man, “Sorry to barge in like this, I'm looking for a police officer. Did he come this way?”
“Leon,” Kara spoke as she held up the badge for him to see, he turns to see it and it was then that she sees the man come up behind, “Leon, look out!”
Leon spun around to block the ace with the blade of his combat knife, the man spoke in Spanish, something that he barely could understand. Kara quickly went to fire, without even thinking, she shot and hit the man in his eye. He staggers back, Leon goes to kick and the man twists his neck when hitting the wall.
She walks over, and yanks the arrow from his eye before looking to Leon, “Is he dead?”
“He is,” Leon spoke before looking at her as he plucks a key from the corpse, “you did what you had to, thank you.”
Something about it still made Kara feel sick to her stomach as she slid the arrow back into her quiver.
The two explore the cabin further only to find the basement and to no surprise, the cop that had wandered off earlier. Kara crosses herself, saying a silent prayer as Leon’s nose scrunches in disgust and his eyes were in some sadness. Everything about this place was getting stranger by the minute.
“What the fuck…” Leon spoke before getting disturbed by the assumed dead man from earlier.
Kara watched in terror as shots rang out, and Leon had put the man down for good. Once they check the body, she noticed tendrils from the man’s neck, making her stomach twist. Nothing about this felt right, not in the slightest.
The two head up to the attic, Kara steps from Leon’s side to pour through diaries she found then it was a Bible, but none like she’s ever seen before. She overheard Leon talking to Hunnigan, but she was more or less engrossed in the Bible. She had grown up Baptist, her dad was a god-fearing man while her mother more or less took the words spoken during service as more a recommendation.
But the pictures, depicting sacrifice and worship were nothing she’s ever seen before. Leon’s voice broke her concentration, “Kara, Ashley’s in the village, so we got to-“
The sounds of angry locals trying to break down the door, alerted them both. In a split second break, as Leon bolted out the window, Kara follows. He catches her before quickly sitting her on her feet. The two began to run, Kara could hear her heart in her ears, feeling it beat in her throat as she kept up with Leon.
“Kara, what does an animal do when it’s cornered?”
Kara looked beyond at the doe, her small hands wrapped around the old recurve that used to belong to her grandfather.
“It fights.”
Her father smiled in approval, “Good, now what do we do when we’re cornered?”
“What it takes to survive.”
LEON S KENNEDY resident evil 4 remake, 2023
i cant stop looking at his t-t-t-t- face
a quick sketch of mr kennedy !!
Just Our Summer
You and Leon have been working at the same summer camp as counselors for four years straight. Now you're going off to college.
a/n: i was reading pjo (fans anyone???) and i needed to write angst because percabeth was so cute. that explains why this is very rushed and not proofread i just needed it out of my system after reading amazing fluff
tw: angst. and i mean i guess theres no happy ending but that depends on your idea of sad and happy endings !! enjoy 🥰🥰
wc: 2.8k
The sun dips low behind the trees, bathing the lake in burnished tones, heat lingering on your skin.
The waters hide what you truly desire.
You dangle your legs off the edge of the pier, feeling the jagged wood, splintered from so many years of kids coming here to mingle, fish and swim. Four years and nowhere else quite calmed you than the pull of the lake's algae-covered floor, the cool contrast against the humid air, and the sight of dusk slipping beneath the horizon.
You hear soft footsteps behind you. A smile absently flits across your face as you lean back onto your palms lying flat on the planks, shifting your weight to make room for the person you already know is behind you.
Leon Scott Kennedy. More often than not you didn’t know how to explain your relationship. You just knew that you wanted it to be something for just the both of you.
Just your summer. The thought sends a lazy memory across your mind, like the sunny skies and puffy clouds and scorching days were rushing by faster than you could imagine, a clock ticking down to what you so desperately wanted to avoid.
You met Leon in your first year. The week will always be a vivid memory in your mind. It had started with awkward, shy glances to each other, wanting to reach out but afraid of rejection. Eventually you mustered up the courage to exchange a simple pleasantry, and from there everything went uphill. You both did everything you could to be put in the same batch, same kids to counsel each year.
He sits beside you now, your friend of four years, in what should be six months because you only see him in the summer but feel like you've known him all your life. He hunches forward slightly, face contorted in confusion as he twists to glance at you. His dusty locks fall in his eyes as tilts his face, looking somewhere between your nose and lips.
“So,” he begins, voice timid, something you don’t expect from him, “last year, huh?”
“College acceptances are out,” you mumble in response, trying to sound more excited than you feel. Something tugs in the pit of your stomach, forcing you to stay, forcing you to confront this moment and live for the future.
“Did you get into your dream college?” He exhales sharply through his mouth, breath wavering. “With the scholarship?”
“The story was great,” you reply, relaxing your shoulders to turn and face the sunset, vibrant shades of auburn, copper and lemon blooming across the still lake. “They thought so too.”
“So… Minnesota, huh?” he whispers, a faraway look in his eyes. “That’s… a long drive from here.”
“It’s longer from my hometown,” you attempt, making your tone as light as you can. “I’ll be packing this time tomorrow.”
“That’s nice.” Leon doesn’t sound like he means it.
“What’s up with you?” you groan, sitting up straight, nudging his shoulder in exasperation. “You’ve been moody all week!”
“What do you think is ‘up with me’?” he retorts with just as much frustration. “Do you know how fucking hard it is for me to accept that you’re leaving and I’ll never see you again? To know that you’ll be miles and miles away and…”
“And what, Leon?” you ask, voice pitched feather-soft. He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, and just when you think he’s about to respond, he shoots to his feet, dusts his pants off, and storms away.
His heavy footsteps linger in your mind for the rest of the evening.
<><><>
When the kids are all asleep, when you’re sure you hear soft snores from each and every bed, you slip from underneath the comforter onto the floor, tugging on your sneakers.
You go back to the pier. It's louder at night, louder than when the kids rushed to clamor at schools of fish leisurely swimming along, louder than Leon's lesson under the stars about the origin of the camp that he chose, of all people, you to sit through.
His face was set in determination to be heard over the kids’ frequent giggles, often using absurd methods to get them to be quiet.
“Waterfall, waterfall?” he had asked.
“Shhhh!” the kids hissed in reply.
“The passage now states,” Leon began for what feels like the seventieth time, “the pair were lost in the shadows together, their lips entwined.”
But the kids never understood the deeper meaning. For them, ‘lips entwined’ meant just a kiss, when it's really so much more.
You held a hand up to your face, a smile gracing your lips at the poor attempt as Leon rubbed the back of his neck and frowned at the laughing crowd.
He saw you smothering a grin and the corner of his mouth quirked. He made a valiant effort to impress you with quips from the passage, sappy lines at the supper table, a cheesy quote before the curfew buzzer sounds.
It seemed as if all traces of your mishap earlier left his brain, but they were still planted deep in yours.
And there they are now, as they've come to manifest as do all your stress nightmares. The goddamn shadows.
You stand this time, leaning against the columns supporting the dock. Slanting more and more to the side, the wood scratching your skin, you gaze up at the cloudless sky, no sign of time passing evident.
“What's got you up so late?” You hear the voice from the shadows and hate the way you recognize it.
“Couldn't sleep,” you offer as a weak response. It wasn't a lie, per se, just a placeholder for everything you really wanted to say.
“Really?” He strides to stand beside you, hands brushing. You force yourself to move away, to not notice the hurt that washes out the circles under his eyes.
You don't say anything in return, but you hear his breath hitch. A firefly blinks in front of you, vanishing into the still night.
You don't know what spurs him to do it. You aren't expecting him to either, but your body allows him to maneuver around you, push you hard against the wood, hand curling around the small of your back to protect you, and kiss you fiercely.
At first your mouth goes slack, adjusting to his lips, but then something clicks and you lean into him, suddenly hungry for something you knew you could never have.
Someone. Leon's other hand is cupped around your cheek, fingers pressing into the corner of your eye. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair, tugging softly, and when you hear yourself make a sound in the back of your throat that you can't stop, Leon pulls away.
He doesn't move, though, and you realize you're quickly hurtling towards something neither of you have the courage or maturity to stop, and that sends fluttering thoughts of anxiety to your mind. Leon rests his forehead against yours, as if to absorb some of your tension.
“And for now, in each other's presence under careless stars,” he recites quietly from the passage, iridescent eyes peering into yours, as if the words themselves are a burden, “all else ceased to exist beyond this hallowed cove where two souls met.”
<><><><>
“ A whisper of breeze stirs pines guarding this sacred space, where yearning blooms in starshine's soft veil. All around, night quiets cricket songs to tender silence befitting tender confessions unwound in ink for questioning eyes.
And they stand together, hand in hand, soul in soul, because although they are not tied to the red string of fate, they are more exposed to each other than they ever have been. ”
“Here.” You hand him the open computer after scrolling up from the last two paragraphs, the cursor blinking on the screen. Leon looks up and tries to suppress a giddy smile.
“You, uh, you’re letting me read it?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, gazing at your own.
You like the attention he gives you. But you aren't supposed to, so you shrug. “Yeah.”
You watch the play of lamplight on Leon's profile, etching bronze into marble, highlighting each flicker of his face, catching every expression, however small.
You want to lean down and press a quick peck to his cheek, almost grinning madly at the thought.
And the problem is, you almost do.
Almost.
You force a smile of your own before turning away, trying to match your steps to the steadily increasing pound of your heart.
Leon asked to read your college admission last year. That was the year you fully acknowledged your love for him wasn’t just platonic.
But before you could say anything, you found out about the girl back home, and even though it tormented your heart at night to beam and nod to every flushed story Leon told about her, you couldn’t stand letting him down.
Then they broke up, and by the next summer, he was over it.
“We weren't meant to be,” he had insisted. “I know that.”
“But how?” you pressed, trying to get an answer from him.
Leon smiled. “When you figure out how, you'll know the answer.”
“What?!”
So, you figure letting him read the story about the two of you couldn’t hurt, right? You had already kissed once, and you knew Leon, as mysterious and cryptic as he could be, was pretty dense, so he probably couldn’t figure it out.
And with that vague assumption, you curl the blanket around your fingers and force yourself to sleep.
<><><>
A gentle hand shakes your shoulder, but you feel the subtle trembling. Immediately assuming it’s a kid with night terrors, you shoot up in bed, head grazing the wood of the empty bunk bed above you. You allow yourself a moment to collect yourself, wiping the hazy corners of your eyes.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” You stretch, feeling your arms burn from the strain.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Leon whispers, but his words cut sharply through the roar of rain, deeper than any blade ever could. Weary, you shrug off his touch, walls rising anew against the hurt you know is coming.
You sit up straighter, pulling your covers closer to your body and keeping your eyes half closed in a lazy wish to be allowed to go back to sleep quickly.
“Tell you what?” you say, a yawn slipping between your lips.
“That you… liked me back,” he blurts out, stammering, and lightning flashes outside your window. A crack of thunder sounds, fully illuminating Leon’s silhouette.
“There's nothing to tell," you reply softly, gaze steadfastly averted. Thunder rolls in answer to your answer, as if the heavens scorn such lies spoken between souls once so close.
“I kissed you,” he retorts flatly. “Not once, but twice. I swear, you’ll be the end of me.”
You tilt your head, intrigued. “You read the story?”
Leon flushes, ears twinged with red. “Of course I read the story,” he sighs, sitting down at the edge of your bed, placing a tentative hand on your leg. “It’s us, isn’t it?”
“How’d you know?” you drawl sarcastically, hoping it can mask the hint of nervousness and embarrassment in your voice.
“You don’t have to do that with me,” he falters. “You don’t have to be defensive with me.”
“Who said I’m being defensive?”
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, pressing his fingers further into your leg, which is still masked by the thick comforter. “And you’re sweating. Do you have a fever?”
“I don’t know,” you admit, feeling the crimson rushing up to your ears. “I feel fine.”
“Do you?” His eyes shine, like he’s expecting something, but instead of feeling sweet and melty, you feel panicked, like the bed’s about to collapse on you.
You throw the covers off, feeling hot but not in a good way. Leon flinches and shifts his body so you sit side by side, facing the window as flashes of white light up the dark pine trees.
“Leon…” you start, digging your nails into the space between your fingers. “You’re a great guy, really.”
“But?” he adds, gently. It makes everything worse, because you know he’ll accept whatever you have to say, even if it breaks his heart.
“I have to go. It’s what’s expected of me.”
A beat of silence.
Overthinking is something you’re prone to, but right now, your mind is clear.
He exhales steadily, laying his hand on top of yours where it rests on your lap. “I know. I’m going to lose you. But I love you either way.”
His fingers curl around yours and lift them to his mouth, where his lips press a soft, calculated and restrained kiss to the back of your hand. His eyes lock onto yours before they flit away.
“Get some sleep,” he suggests. “You have a long drive tomorrow.”
The charming interlude ends with a soft, somewhat gray look in his eyes as he rises, bed shifting to accommodate for the loss of his weight.
<><><>
Leon lugs the last suitcase into the trunk of your car, then slowly pulls the door closed. It chirps as you lock it, stuffing the keys back into your pocket.
“So…” What's meant to be a smile, you think, spreads across his face, but his eyes are puffy and red, tears welling quickly.
You wrap your arms around him, his warm puffs of breath in your ear, your face nuzzled into the corner of his neck. His arms hug you back, tightly, as his tears wet your shirt.
“Sorry,” he mumbles as you pull away, sniffling.
“Stop crying,” you instruct. “If you ever feel lonely, you know who to text.”
Leon nods, and in that beautiful velvet moment, both of you bathed in the growing daylight, a bittersweet farewell passes between you in the breeze rippling the dark, dew-spotted land below.
Dawn steals the road as you drive away, away from what your heart desires, away from what you know is true. Its rosy fingers reach out to you in an attempt to comfort your grief, but you force your mind to wish for the sweet release of night’s veiled embrace.
All that remains is one last goodbye on the wings of retreating rain.
<><><>
Two weeks into college, and you finally realize what the lake was hiding.
Vividly, you see cobalt eyes glistening like the first stars. Tawny locks woven like a tapestry of warmth. Rosy cheeks that make raspberries seem pale and lips sweeter than spring rain on strawberries.
And dawn. The beauty of the sun rising and who it reminds you of.
So, out of breath, you sit at your porch and savor the quiet as fireflies wake one by one, small lights to guide you through the gathering dark until another dawn.
Seven Years Close
Do you accept Leon's proposal to marry? You can't tell if he's trying to get into your bed or if he has genuine feelings.
a/n: so this was supposed to be knight leon and then somewhere along the road i was lost in lana and taylor and so now you get this asjkfwfioasajwqe do you fw me???
tw: sweetie pie fluff <3
wc: 2.9k
You cast a distasteful glance at the platter of raspberry tarts being passed around the room, servants anxiously staring up at you, wide eyes silently pleading you to take one. Taking pity, you curl your fingers around one of them and slowly nibble, leaning back against the wall.
Your twin sister, Rebecca, the heir to your family legacy, is nowhere to be seen. It’s become a rare occurrence to even see her around the estate, since she’s almost always frolicking off with one of her new suitors, twirling her hair and giggling as they make such fools of themselves, performing advanced melodies on their lutes and harps.
What good is art if there is no soul behind it? In twenty one years, you have not yet met a single man with a personality outside of the court, outside of succeeding to their family’s expectations, siring heirs before retiring to their homes on the coast, living out the rest of their miserable lives listening to the redundant waves wash onto the shore.
“What’s a lovely miss like you doing here, all alone?” You don’t recognize the voice and have to look up to match the tone to the face, and the face you see is not one you wish to see.
The prince of the kingdom, the man every woman wishes for and sees in their dreams. Leon Kensington. Believe it or not, it hurts you every time you see him, because anytime he meets your eyes, all you can remember is…
“Take it. Don’t be shy, it’s my gift to you!”
“Good evening, Your Highness,” you mumble, the once sweet fruit tasting infinitely bitter on your tongue. You resist the urge to scrape it on the back of your hand and instead offer a polite nod, shifting your weight so you’re facing away from him. “How nice to see you here.”
“There are times when I look at you and wonder what my life would be like if we had never met,” he says wistfully, completely ignoring your greeting.
“And?”
Leon smiles. “And my breath hitches, like my body’s reminding me that not meeting you would be like living a life with no air.”
“That will not work on me, dear prince,” you drone, steeling your mind against the sweet line. As much as you wish to believe it is true, you know he’s just trying to get into your bed. “I’m not as incapable as your lovers.”
“Indeed,” he agrees, stepping even closer to accommodate for the space you very deliberately just put between you two. “It is a nice gathering, yes?” You note the subtle change of subject and resist smirking.
“Nothing I wouldn’t expect from the House of Redfield,” you jest. “They are known for their majestic sceneries.”
“I didn’t know the Duchess was accustomed to the wilderness,” he replies with fake shock, arching his hand on his chest. “I always took you for a lady afraid to get your slippers wet.”
And just like that, in one mercurial swing, you’re back to irritation.
“Duchess is a title reserved for my sister,” you hiss from behind clenched teeth. “If you put effort into every woman you woo with your irresistible charm, you might’ve known that.”
You’re mad, but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. It’s not like you recognize the man in front of you. He’s older, more mature, and it shows in the defined slants of his face. But you can’t forget what you’ll always remember.
You don’t wait for a response. Instead you stroll away, seething in anger, searching the crowd for your sister. When you finally spot her usually tame, brown locks, somehow already tousled, you link your arm through hers and pull her away from the Baron Wesker, who looks far too old for her.
She lets out a yelp of protest, fixes her face and wiggles her fingers in goodbye to the man, before turning to you and huffing.
“How dare you!” she whines, smoothing out her dress. “Where are you taking me?”
“We’re going home,” you grumble. “I will not stand a second longer in this wretched place.”
“Excuse you! Duchess Claire is one of your closest friends!”
“And, unfortunately for us, she’s fallen ill, and her brother is tending to her. So unless you get in the carriage, I will be forced to resort to shoving my slippers up your-”
“I get it!” she groans. “You ruin all my fun.”
Aren’t I the only one.
<><><>
When Jillian hobbles into your room, you already know that something’s been arranged. The woman raises her eyebrows and lets out an amused chuckle when you groan.
“Are you far too busy to be bothered by His Royal Majesty himself?” she muses, handing you an envelope tightly clutched in her frayed hands. Streaks of gray already line her dusty hair. She’s old enough to be your mother, so, lacking a parental figure, you and Nysa consider her to be.
“Your uncle has requested you attend the-”
“Absolutely not.”
Jillian frowns. “Child.”
You’ve already skimmed the letter, and after getting past the first line, your mind has already been made up. Of all the things your uncle could force you to do under the illusion of ‘it’s what’s best for the family’, this was one you simply could not comply with.
“The arrangement for alliance between House Kensington and House Chambers? Seriously? That isn’t even my true name!” you protest, pointing directly to where the loopy handwriting, signed by the prince himself, ends.
“This is not an offer, girl,” Jillian lectures in return, her long, simple ivory dress sweeping the dust from the wooden planks. “You are expected to attend. Tonight.”
“What if I choose not to?” you reply defiantly, glaring up at her. She looks down at you for a moment, fingers tightening around the roll of newspapers in her hand before frowning and immediately proceeding to whack your back with the paper.
You scramble from your chair and she chases you around the room, pummeling you until you finally agree, panting heavily. For someone who looks old enough to be Queen, she sure is quick on her feet.
Later that evening, her nimble fingers thread your hair into complex twists, weaving in strands of worn-out gold, like a tapestry not quite finished.
“I wore these when I met my lover,” she whispers as she works, her faded eyes finding yours in the mirror. “He said I looked radiant, outshining the sun itself.” She presses a soft, tentative kiss to the top of your head. “Do not lose this one, child. I only wish to see you happy.”
You can’t tell if she’s talking about the braids or if she’s talking about Leon. Giving your hand to him in marriage seems like the worst possible idea you’ve ever had, and although you are sure you will deny everything Leon thinks of you, some part of your mind wants to make this woman happy, wants to gain her approval, wants to see her smile again, because you did this for her, no? You’ve done everything you’ve ever done for her.
The self-defense training, the balls, galas, everything you dreaded growing through your teenage years, it was all so much more tolerable with Jillian’s comfort, however weary.
That’s exactly why you put on your brightest, most stunning smile as you approach His Royal Highness, his wife, and of course, his two eldest sons.
Steven, heir to the throne, sulks in his chair, lazily slouched with his feet draped on his armrest. He is the image of one of the seven deadly sins; sloth.
You were raised in a family where sins were forbidden and to even think of them would require serious action. Rebecca chose to ignore your uncle’s rules after your parents’ passing while you strove to stick to them, knowing that if it were not for your uncle, there would never be a future for either of you.
“Your Majesty,” you finish, curtsying in front of Leon. You feel his gaze on your neck, dropping everywhere on your body, and you feel Rebecca tense besides you, because she doesn’t know why he’s not paying attention to her.
You do. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you walked in.
While your uncle converses with Their Majesties for wedding plans, you all are excused to mingle in the common room. You realize that this is the perfect chance to leave Leon alone, therefore providing you with solitary comfort, but then Jillian flashes through your mind, and you realize you have to make this work, however uneasy you feel.
His eyebrow arches as you approach to stand next to him, while your sister shoots off to bat her eyelashes at Steven.
“You’re much more boring than you usually are,” Leon drones, thumbing the sleeves of his linen jacket. “I was expecting something more extravagant.”
“If you wanted extravagant,” you retort, “you should’ve picked one of your bedchamber women to marry.”
“You think I want to marry you?” Leon scoffs, as if the idea’s never crossed his mind. You hope it hasn’t. “Heavens no. This is for the sake of the throne.”
“Your father thinks marrying into our bloodline is best for the kingdom?” You restrain from making a sarcastic sound of your own. “Pardon, but he’s thoroughly mistaken.”
“How so?” Leon twists to face you, eyes sparkling with a newfound curious light.
“Truly? A bastard orphan and a woman who’s already shared her bed with multiple other men,” you drawl. “Is that the ideal legacy you’d like to uphold?”
“We would be in shambles without you,” he admits, looking down at you, thin, golden eyelashes framing his pensive eyes. “And even if you don’t wish to marry me, I assure you that I will do my best to be whatever you need.”
“I… suppose I can reciprocate that,” you stumble over your words, finally coming to some kind of unspoken agreement. At your flushed state, Leon smirks.
“What if I asked for your firstborn child?”
You can’t hold back a grin. “What, are you suggesting you participate in witchcraft?”
He chuckles, a gentle, unrestrained sound that seems to resonate through you. “No, of course not. I was simply curious.”
“Hm,” you hum, debating the reality of the question. “You are the prince, yes? I have sworn my undying loyalty to you, so if you asked for my child, however heart wrenching, it is my duty to hand whatever you wish over.”
“Heart wrenching?” Leon pauses, then shrugs, laughing softly. “Have you forgotten already, my dear? Your firstborn child is mine either way.”
“Oh.” You flush an even deeper red, realizing the true meaning of his words. “Yes… I suppose that is correct.”
“Why are you always like this around me?” he queries after a beat of silence. “You seem… tense?”
“I’m not tense,” you assure, far too quickly to convince him.
“Don’t lie,” he says, voice lower, quieter. It has a new level of intimacy you weren’t prepared for. “Tell me what you are thinking about.”
“Right now?”
He nods. “Right this moment.”
You inhale sharply. “I’m… thinking about our ceremonial day back when we were in school.”
Leon tilts his head to the side. “Why on Earth would you be thinking of that?”
“I have this image of you in my mind, as a small boy, with mud in your suit and branches in your hair, and you came up to me.”
“I… handed you a leaf,” he continues slowly, as if just remembering the memory. “Yes, I recall that day. You were wearing that lovely pink dress.”
“Do you…”
“Recall that I asked for your hand in marriage?”
There’s a beat of silence before you hesitantly answer, “Yes?”
“Can I ask why this is bothering you?”
“You are so… different, now,” you rush to finish, wanting to get all your thoughts out quickly. “You’re not the same Leon.”
“Are you the same?” he asks in return. “It has been seven years. A lot has changed, between the two of us.”
“We were so close,” you whisper, slightly dazed.
“We are close now, too,” he says, but you get the sense he’s not talking about emotionally. He’s moved to sit near you, breath fanning your nose, eyes searching yours with a familiar warmth, yet deeper. A spark stirs in your core, fading embers rekindling.
"The boy who gave me leaves cared deeply," you say softly. "As I hope the man does."
Leon smiles. "As does the woman. You still love me?"
You scoff. “Still? You’re still as cocky as ever.”
Leon grins boyishly. “Some things will never change, hm?” His hand finds yours, fingers entwining. But where innocent affection left off, desire awakens, smoldering beneath your skin.
Eyeing lips but a breath apart, Leon whispers, "May I?"
Your pulse quickens as you nod. As his lips meet yours, the fluttering flame within blossoms into a radiant glow, spreading warmth through your veins with sentiments left unspoken for too long. You finally realize that avoiding your past was the worst mistake you’ve ever made.
When he pulls away from you, curling his fingers along the side of your cheek, the longing in his face is evident, like he’s finally seeing something he forced himself to block out for so long.
“Why did I ever let you go?” he asks, voice feather soft, but you understand he’s asking himself, pitching his regret. His expression is gentle as his gaze shifts to your hair. “Was your hair always golden?”
“I do think you have been paying attention to me over the years,” you muse, lying your head against the sofa. “I’m flattered.”
“Who didn’t?” Leon arches a golden eyebrow. “Surely you’ve noticed the amount of suitors trailing you around everywhere you go? Just last month I rode past your estate and there was a line of men waiting to call on you.”
“And they were all such boring lads,” you drawl, groaning just from the memory. Leon leans on his fist, propping himself up against the wood to face you.
“No one is as charming as me,” he says sweetly. “It pleases me to hear that you’ve finally realized this.”
“Yes, Leon,” you manage through snickers. “You are indeed very charming.”
“Yes, very well, go on,” he replies, the corner of his mouth lifting. “What else do you find lovely about me?”
“You’re truly asking for this?” Leon nods eagerly, so you consider him for a moment.
"Let's see..." you ponder thoughtfully. "Your ego knows no bounds.”
Leon pretends to wince. "You wound me, my dear!" He declares with feigned drama.
"Your hair remains equal parts charming and disastrous, as in days of your youth." He runs a hand through his tousled locks, shifting them so the sun hits them perfectly, an effervescent glow around them.
"Your smile is as radiant as the summer sun. Your eyes are as warm as a crackling hearth," you continue, gazing deep into azure depths.
"My, such flattery! When did you become such a poet?" he quips, returning your easy smile.
You cock your head sideways. "There is one quality more that makes you singular amongst men..."
Raising his eyebrows, Leon leans forward as if onto a delicious secret. "And what quality is that, pray tell?"
"Your boundless arrogance knows no competition!" you exclaim as Leon clutches his chest in exaggerated fashion.
“Wounded yet again!” he whines, but there’s a playful twinkle in his eyes. “And here I was, blindly assuming your adoration for me was sincere.”
“Of course it is,” you say dotingly. “But someone must keep that ego in check.”
“Who better for the job than my future wife?”
You tilt your head, regarding him with amusement. "Is that a proposal, my prince?”
"Would you accept, if it were?" Leon returns casually, yet beneath you spot profound hope. Perhaps there is a way to not only get what you want, but also to win Jillian’s praise.
“Yes. Yes, I would.”
“Lovely,” your uncle states from across the room. You peek over the top of the cushion to see your uncle and Their Majesties standing behind you. You don’t know how long they’ve stood there, and you’re not sure you want to. “Then the wedding will be set.”
“Do you know where Steven is?” I hear the Queen murmur.
“I’m quite sure he disappeared off to his chamber.”
The Queen sighs. “With the girl?”
“With the girl,” the King confirms. “I suppose this would also mean that we will need to plan their wedding, as well?”
“Splendid!” your uncle coos. “The royal family will be covering all expenses, correct?”
You assume they nod, because your uncle starts to gush about all the decorations and banquets and how your wedding will be the most stunning wedding of the century.
You cast a wary look at Leon. “Are you still sure you want to marry me?” Leon rests his hand on top of yours, looking at you with utmost sincerity.
“Are you being serious? Because, darling, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life in love with you.”
i think ill be matching w someone soon 🥰🥰
CVX Claire x RE4r Leon
Shitty gif
Shitty quality
Seven Years Close
Do you accept Leon's proposal to marry? You can't tell if he's trying to get into your bed or if he has genuine feelings.
a/n: so this was supposed to be knight leon and then somewhere along the road i was lost in lana and taylor and so now you get this asjkfwfioasajwqe do you fw me???
tw: sweetie pie fluff <3
wc: 2.9k
You cast a distasteful glance at the platter of raspberry tarts being passed around the room, servants anxiously staring up at you, wide eyes silently pleading you to take one. Taking pity, you curl your fingers around one of them and slowly nibble, leaning back against the wall.
Your twin sister, Rebecca, the heir to your family legacy, is nowhere to be seen. It’s become a rare occurrence to even see her around the estate, since she’s almost always frolicking off with one of her new suitors, twirling her hair and giggling as they make such fools of themselves, performing advanced melodies on their lutes and harps.
What good is art if there is no soul behind it? In twenty one years, you have not yet met a single man with a personality outside of the court, outside of succeeding to their family’s expectations, siring heirs before retiring to their homes on the coast, living out the rest of their miserable lives listening to the redundant waves wash onto the shore.
“What’s a lovely miss like you doing here, all alone?” You don’t recognize the voice and have to look up to match the tone to the face, and the face you see is not one you wish to see.
The prince of the kingdom, the man every woman wishes for and sees in their dreams. Leon Kensington. Believe it or not, it hurts you every time you see him, because anytime he meets your eyes, all you can remember is…
“Take it. Don’t be shy, it’s my gift to you!”
“Good evening, Your Highness,” you mumble, the once sweet fruit tasting infinitely bitter on your tongue. You resist the urge to scrape it on the back of your hand and instead offer a polite nod, shifting your weight so you’re facing away from him. “How nice to see you here.”
“There are times when I look at you and wonder what my life would be like if we had never met,” he says wistfully, completely ignoring your greeting.
“And?”
Leon smiles. “And my breath hitches, like my body’s reminding me that not meeting you would be like living a life with no air.”
“That will not work on me, dear prince,” you drone, steeling your mind against the sweet line. As much as you wish to believe it is true, you know he’s just trying to get into your bed. “I’m not as incapable as your lovers.”
“Indeed,” he agrees, stepping even closer to accommodate for the space you very deliberately just put between you two. “It is a nice gathering, yes?” You note the subtle change of subject and resist smirking.
“Nothing I wouldn’t expect from the House of Redfield,” you jest. “They are known for their majestic sceneries.”
“I didn’t know the Duchess was accustomed to the wilderness,” he replies with fake shock, arching his hand on his chest. “I always took you for a lady afraid to get your slippers wet.”
And just like that, in one mercurial swing, you’re back to irritation.
“Duchess is a title reserved for my sister,” you hiss from behind clenched teeth. “If you put effort into every woman you woo with your irresistible charm, you might’ve known that.”
You’re mad, but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. It’s not like you recognize the man in front of you. He’s older, more mature, and it shows in the defined slants of his face. But you can’t forget what you’ll always remember.
You don’t wait for a response. Instead you stroll away, seething in anger, searching the crowd for your sister. When you finally spot her usually tame, brown locks, somehow already tousled, you link your arm through hers and pull her away from the Baron Wesker, who looks far too old for her.
She lets out a yelp of protest, fixes her face and wiggles her fingers in goodbye to the man, before turning to you and huffing.
“How dare you!” she whines, smoothing out her dress. “Where are you taking me?”
“We’re going home,” you grumble. “I will not stand a second longer in this wretched place.”
“Excuse you! Duchess Claire is one of your closest friends!”
“And, unfortunately for us, she’s fallen ill, and her brother is tending to her. So unless you get in the carriage, I will be forced to resort to shoving my slippers up your-”
“I get it!” she groans. “You ruin all my fun.”
Aren’t I the only one.
<><><>
When Jillian hobbles into your room, you already know that something’s been arranged. The woman raises her eyebrows and lets out an amused chuckle when you groan.
“Are you far too busy to be bothered by His Royal Majesty himself?” she muses, handing you an envelope tightly clutched in her frayed hands. Streaks of gray already line her dusty hair. She’s old enough to be your mother, so, lacking a parental figure, you and Nysa consider her to be.
“Your uncle has requested you attend the-”
“Absolutely not.”
Jillian frowns. “Child.”
You’ve already skimmed the letter, and after getting past the first line, your mind has already been made up. Of all the things your uncle could force you to do under the illusion of ‘it’s what’s best for the family’, this was one you simply could not comply with.
“The arrangement for alliance between House Kensington and House Chambers? Seriously? That isn’t even my true name!” you protest, pointing directly to where the loopy handwriting, signed by the prince himself, ends.
“This is not an offer, girl,” Jillian lectures in return, her long, simple ivory dress sweeping the dust from the wooden planks. “You are expected to attend. Tonight.”
“What if I choose not to?” you reply defiantly, glaring up at her. She looks down at you for a moment, fingers tightening around the roll of newspapers in her hand before frowning and immediately proceeding to whack your back with the paper.
You scramble from your chair and she chases you around the room, pummeling you until you finally agree, panting heavily. For someone who looks old enough to be Queen, she sure is quick on her feet.
Later that evening, her nimble fingers thread your hair into complex twists, weaving in strands of worn-out gold, like a tapestry not quite finished.
“I wore these when I met my lover,” she whispers as she works, her faded eyes finding yours in the mirror. “He said I looked radiant, outshining the sun itself.” She presses a soft, tentative kiss to the top of your head. “Do not lose this one, child. I only wish to see you happy.”
You can’t tell if she’s talking about the braids or if she’s talking about Leon. Giving your hand to him in marriage seems like the worst possible idea you’ve ever had, and although you are sure you will deny everything Leon thinks of you, some part of your mind wants to make this woman happy, wants to gain her approval, wants to see her smile again, because you did this for her, no? You’ve done everything you’ve ever done for her.
The self-defense training, the balls, galas, everything you dreaded growing through your teenage years, it was all so much more tolerable with Jillian’s comfort, however weary.
That’s exactly why you put on your brightest, most stunning smile as you approach His Royal Highness, his wife, and of course, his two eldest sons.
Steven, heir to the throne, sulks in his chair, lazily slouched with his feet draped on his armrest. He is the image of one of the seven deadly sins; sloth.
You were raised in a family where sins were forbidden and to even think of them would require serious action. Rebecca chose to ignore your uncle’s rules after your parents’ passing while you strove to stick to them, knowing that if it were not for your uncle, there would never be a future for either of you.
“Your Majesty,” you finish, curtsying in front of Leon. You feel his gaze on your neck, dropping everywhere on your body, and you feel Rebecca tense besides you, because she doesn’t know why he’s not paying attention to her.
You do. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you walked in.
While your uncle converses with Their Majesties for wedding plans, you all are excused to mingle in the common room. You realize that this is the perfect chance to leave Leon alone, therefore providing you with solitary comfort, but then Jillian flashes through your mind, and you realize you have to make this work, however uneasy you feel.
His eyebrow arches as you approach to stand next to him, while your sister shoots off to bat her eyelashes at Steven.
“You’re much more boring than you usually are,” Leon drones, thumbing the sleeves of his linen jacket. “I was expecting something more extravagant.”
“If you wanted extravagant,” you retort, “you should’ve picked one of your bedchamber women to marry.”
“You think I want to marry you?” Leon scoffs, as if the idea’s never crossed his mind. You hope it hasn’t. “Heavens no. This is for the sake of the throne.”
“Your father thinks marrying into our bloodline is best for the kingdom?” You restrain from making a sarcastic sound of your own. “Pardon, but he’s thoroughly mistaken.”
“How so?” Leon twists to face you, eyes sparkling with a newfound curious light.
“Truly? A bastard orphan and a woman who’s already shared her bed with multiple other men,” you drawl. “Is that the ideal legacy you’d like to uphold?”
“We would be in shambles without you,” he admits, looking down at you, thin, golden eyelashes framing his pensive eyes. “And even if you don’t wish to marry me, I assure you that I will do my best to be whatever you need.”
“I… suppose I can reciprocate that,” you stumble over your words, finally coming to some kind of unspoken agreement. At your flushed state, Leon smirks.
“What if I asked for your firstborn child?”
You can’t hold back a grin. “What, are you suggesting you participate in witchcraft?”
He chuckles, a gentle, unrestrained sound that seems to resonate through you. “No, of course not. I was simply curious.”
“Hm,” you hum, debating the reality of the question. “You are the prince, yes? I have sworn my undying loyalty to you, so if you asked for my child, however heart wrenching, it is my duty to hand whatever you wish over.”
“Heart wrenching?” Leon pauses, then shrugs, laughing softly. “Have you forgotten already, my dear? Your firstborn child is mine either way.”
“Oh.” You flush an even deeper red, realizing the true meaning of his words. “Yes… I suppose that is correct.”
“Why are you always like this around me?” he queries after a beat of silence. “You seem… tense?”
“I’m not tense,” you assure, far too quickly to convince him.
“Don’t lie,” he says, voice lower, quieter. It has a new level of intimacy you weren’t prepared for. “Tell me what you are thinking about.”
“Right now?”
He nods. “Right this moment.”
You inhale sharply. “I’m… thinking about our ceremonial day back when we were in school.”
Leon tilts his head to the side. “Why on Earth would you be thinking of that?”
“I have this image of you in my mind, as a small boy, with mud in your suit and branches in your hair, and you came up to me.”
“I… handed you a leaf,” he continues slowly, as if just remembering the memory. “Yes, I recall that day. You were wearing that lovely pink dress.”
“Do you…”
“Recall that I asked for your hand in marriage?”
There’s a beat of silence before you hesitantly answer, “Yes?”
“Can I ask why this is bothering you?”
“You are so… different, now,” you rush to finish, wanting to get all your thoughts out quickly. “You’re not the same Leon.”
“Are you the same?” he asks in return. “It has been seven years. A lot has changed, between the two of us.”
“We were so close,” you whisper, slightly dazed.
“We are close now, too,” he says, but you get the sense he’s not talking about emotionally. He’s moved to sit near you, breath fanning your nose, eyes searching yours with a familiar warmth, yet deeper. A spark stirs in your core, fading embers rekindling.
"The boy who gave me leaves cared deeply," you say softly. "As I hope the man does."
Leon smiles. "As does the woman. You still love me?"
You scoff. “Still? You’re still as cocky as ever.”
Leon grins boyishly. “Some things will never change, hm?” His hand finds yours, fingers entwining. But where innocent affection left off, desire awakens, smoldering beneath your skin.
Eyeing lips but a breath apart, Leon whispers, "May I?"
Your pulse quickens as you nod. As his lips meet yours, the fluttering flame within blossoms into a radiant glow, spreading warmth through your veins with sentiments left unspoken for too long. You finally realize that avoiding your past was the worst mistake you’ve ever made.
When he pulls away from you, curling his fingers along the side of your cheek, the longing in his face is evident, like he’s finally seeing something he forced himself to block out for so long.
“Why did I ever let you go?” he asks, voice feather soft, but you understand he’s asking himself, pitching his regret. His expression is gentle as his gaze shifts to your hair. “Was your hair always golden?”
“I do think you have been paying attention to me over the years,” you muse, lying your head against the sofa. “I’m flattered.”
“Who didn’t?” Leon arches a golden eyebrow. “Surely you’ve noticed the amount of suitors trailing you around everywhere you go? Just last month I rode past your estate and there was a line of men waiting to call on you.”
“And they were all such boring lads,” you drawl, groaning just from the memory. Leon leans on his fist, propping himself up against the wood to face you.
“No one is as charming as me,” he says sweetly. “It pleases me to hear that you’ve finally realized this.”
“Yes, Leon,” you manage through snickers. “You are indeed very charming.”
“Yes, very well, go on,” he replies, the corner of his mouth lifting. “What else do you find lovely about me?”
“You’re truly asking for this?” Leon nods eagerly, so you consider him for a moment.
"Let's see..." you ponder thoughtfully. "Your ego knows no bounds.”
Leon pretends to wince. "You wound me, my dear!" He declares with feigned drama.
"Your hair remains equal parts charming and disastrous, as in days of your youth." He runs a hand through his tousled locks, shifting them so the sun hits them perfectly, an effervescent glow around them.
"Your smile is as radiant as the summer sun. Your eyes are as warm as a crackling hearth," you continue, gazing deep into azure depths.
"My, such flattery! When did you become such a poet?" he quips, returning your easy smile.
You cock your head sideways. "There is one quality more that makes you singular amongst men..."
Raising his eyebrows, Leon leans forward as if onto a delicious secret. "And what quality is that, pray tell?"
"Your boundless arrogance knows no competition!" you exclaim as Leon clutches his chest in exaggerated fashion.
“Wounded yet again!” he whines, but there’s a playful twinkle in his eyes. “And here I was, blindly assuming your adoration for me was sincere.”
“Of course it is,” you say dotingly. “But someone must keep that ego in check.”
“Who better for the job than my future wife?”
You tilt your head, regarding him with amusement. "Is that a proposal, my prince?”
"Would you accept, if it were?" Leon returns casually, yet beneath you spot profound hope. Perhaps there is a way to not only get what you want, but also to win Jillian’s praise.
“Yes. Yes, I would.”
“Lovely,” your uncle states from across the room. You peek over the top of the cushion to see your uncle and Their Majesties standing behind you. You don’t know how long they’ve stood there, and you’re not sure you want to. “Then the wedding will be set.”
“Do you know where Steven is?” I hear the Queen murmur.
“I’m quite sure he disappeared off to his chamber.”
The Queen sighs. “With the girl?”
“With the girl,” the King confirms. “I suppose this would also mean that we will need to plan their wedding, as well?”
“Splendid!” your uncle coos. “The royal family will be covering all expenses, correct?”
You assume they nod, because your uncle starts to gush about all the decorations and banquets and how your wedding will be the most stunning wedding of the century.
You cast a wary look at Leon. “Are you still sure you want to marry me?” Leon rests his hand on top of yours, looking at you with utmost sincerity.
“Are you being serious? Because, darling, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life in love with you.”
RAIL ME
LENCKSHSNFNNSKDNDNDKDKF IN GONNA HAVE A HEART ATTACK.
I SAW THIS ON TIKTOK BUT I FORGOT THEY @
HE LOOKS SO SMEXY OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDSDDDDD IM GOING TO JUMP OF A CLIFF
I have no title
Luis, find some gum
although you both just need a bath...
put me in a room with him and I won't be the one who gets pregnant.
Played RE4 remake (again) and got a new brush, so here's some Leon for your soul.
I love all the dumb shit he says.