#ft. chris

[detectivegoldstein]

∗ 29﹕ a supportive text to Chris

[user: Goldstein] hey so Emma told me about u guys. u and Jim kissed huh? it took me a while to realize i was bi so if u ever need someone to talk to - i get im probably the last guy u ever wanna have that conversation with but hey the offers out there

[inxthexshadowxofxdeath]

💍 - fuck, marry, kill. (for sun)

luke, zoe, chris

"....No hablo ingles."

[crazedhatesoul]

@lxvenderhxzehv

Feelings

[zahra-burch]

[ciarawinters]

W : WEDDING. would your muse get married? why / why not?

That's hard to say. On one hand she saw how happy Chris was with his late wife, and sees him happy with his current partners. But then they're mom was married to a shitty excuse for a person and then never remarried. She wants to have hope in marriage, but once more her cynical side tends to show.

[ghostsbrokenbyfairytales]

Send me📝 and my muse will reveal their thoughts about your muse. (Em and Chris)

Their first impression:

"he's cute.. i doubt anything will happen but i'm gonna at least say hi, maybe he'd be a good friend."

Their current impression:

"i don't deserve someone as understanding as him, he's been one of the best things to happen to me since showing up to this town."

What they like the most about your muse:

his kindness

What they dislike the most about your muse:

nothing that she can think of

What your muse is for them ( Friend, lover, rival ecc.):

boyfriend

A general opinion of their relationship:

she loves him so much, she never expected to love someone again the way she loved jim and she's so happy she did

If applicable, something they wish to reveal:

she can't think of anything at the moment since she's pretty much an open book with him already.

[lolatvng]

@hillschris

THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY

2.02 — “Love Scene”

[dollsizes]

innocent affections, ft. the resident evil men⎯⎯⎯⎯leon kennedy, chris redfield, carlos oliveira, ethan winters.

leon kennedy thinks everything you do is endearing. you’re a sense of security he doesn’t think he’s ever had—the only flower that doesn’t wilt at his touch. standoffish as he may seem; leon cares. empathy runs through him rampantly, even if he hides it better as the years go by. to be so intensely affected by all the tragedy around him, also gives him the ability to love you completely. so, if you asked him about the habits you can’t seem to drop and tell him to pinpoint a favourite, he might just blank for a second. don’t take it the wrong way.

chris redfield is a whirlwind of emotions. vocal as he may be, he still finds it difficult to express to you just how much you mean to him. perhaps seeing the sky fall down on the front lines does that to a person—scares him from speaking you into the world; afraid to materialise the you he’s dreamt up in fear that you too will be taken from him. yet when you hold him, he’s the one that feels solidified. to be in your arms is to live there forever in just a few moments. chris redfield isn’t one for sentiment, but he swears he can still feel your fingers in his hair a thousand miles from you.

carlos oliveira, charged and filled with passion. carlos loves you like it’s the end of the world, which ironically for us, it just might be. he embodies ‘puppy love’—dotes on you every chance he gets. he takes comfort in the soft teasing and the gentler nights. his heart dies as he picks you up and spins you around the room, swallowing your laughter like he survives on it. carlos isn’t a religious man by any means, but how could you deny a god in the presence of an angel.

ethan winters. ethan is there for you for the long run—takes a glance at you and leaves everything else up to fate. (it should be noted that in this particular context, ‘fate’ includes excessive internet stalking and cheesy forum pickup lines.) so when he’s got you, ethan loves you like a meadow river. he walks by you to the end of the stream—dangles his feet over the cliff as he watches you fall and engulf the world in your element. even on the stormy days, who can deny the beauty of the sea?

© pncessa ﹒ tumblr

[084thoughts]

Did Buck just get broken up with? Yes. Is he wallowing in the loft until someone brings him a child to babysit??? Yes.

Will Buck’s loft burn down? Not likely.

Would a fire in the loft while Buck and Jee are baking cookies be a great parallel to Buck and Chris in the tsunami?? Yes.

[tayloralllison]

@hcmswrth

COME BACK BE HERE x DAYLIGHT The Eras Tour — Melbourne, Australia (Night 3) | February 18, 2024

[paulkariyas]

↪ 02/18/2024 ― kreids & remps ( broadway hat: stadium series edition )

[keithsnotgalra]

Been seeing this weird bird thing for the past 20 years

[inxthexshadowxofxdeath]

Mickey, verbatim probably, in his interview with Chris. @lxvenderhxzehv

The Jawbone O'shaughnessy Creed

[clementinecalls]

[locitapurplepink]

If you ever feeling like you're lost, I will come found you man all fronts

There's no ocean I will swim across to be right by you

And not just once, here and now, I swear on my response, I'll remind you

And promise as one does I, I will protect you at all costs

Keep you safe here in my arms

I, I will protect you at all costs, at all costs

[ghostdice]

hmmMMMmm how about ⌓ and/or ✘?

sick prompts: ⌓: tissues ✘: forehead kisses

➷ it's technically chreon but unspecified whether they're together or not so do with that what you will! :] ➷ the era is also unspecified but piers is there so this is either a piers era or piers survived :D

A/N: i'm not gonna lie i have no idea how this became 1.3k but i hope you enjoy!! :3

⁀➷｡⋆ ༄

The office door nearly slams into Leon square in the face, his hand jumping from the door handle.

“Shit- Leon,” Piers startles, shutting the door behind himself. His expression is slightly dark, clearly frustrated. He pinches his eyes shut for a second, exhaling sharply through his nose. “I hope you can talk some sense into him.”

Their shoulders brush as he walks off, still bristling.

It should deter him. But it doesn’t.

Leon knocks, and when he hears a, “Come in,” he turns the handle with purpose, hand heavy on the metal. Upon entering, his gaze sweeps the room urgently, acting on the vigilance drilled into him. The looming threat unravels awfully quickly- crumples, even. Like the tissues overflowing from the small trash can by Chris’ desk.

Like the tissue balled up in his fist as he looks up at Leon, nose red and eyebags heavy. He’s never seen Chris quite like this. Hospitalized, bled out, sure, but this is different.

“Leon,” Chris attempts to greet before coughing into the inner bend of his arm. His heart twinges strangely at the sight, but he pushes it to the back of his mind.

“Are you sick?”

Chris groans. “Not you too.”

“Did Nivans tell you to go home while he was at it?” Leon quirks an eyebrow. He can picture it perfectly: Piers’ eyebrows set in a firm line, pretty lips twisting with frustration as he chews Chris out for coming to HQ sick. It’s negligent. (And maybe a little gross.) He juts his chin towards Chris slightly. “That makes it two to one. Majority rules.”

Chris frowns at that, sniffling. His hand twitches, but he doesn’t grab a tissue. “Consider it vetoed.”

“I really didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve forced my hand, Redfield,” Leon sighs, uncrossing his arms and slipping one hand into his pocket. The screen of his cell phone glints, mimicking the mischievous gleam across the blue of Leon’s eyes.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Really? You think so?” His finger hovers over the call icon, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “C’mon, Chris. You’ve gotta learn when to fold.”

Chris rolls his eyes before shifting his gaze back down to the case file he seemed to have been reviewing prior. “I’m calling your bluff.”

But then there’s the dial-up tone.

They share one glance, and then Chris is reaching half-way across his desk, trying to snatch the phone out of Leon’s hand while Leon, agile as ever, slips out of his reach. He laughs at the almost elementary display, a quality that no one can bring out the way his offending younger sister could. Chris begins to grumble his protests, but the words tumble into a cough, and Leon fixes him with a pointed look-

And the phone is ringing for an awfully long time. Leon huffs. Of course Claire won't pick up the damn phone. It’s just his luck. He’s about to say something (anything that’ll make this less embarrassing, however unthinkingly), but miraculously, she answers on the very last ring.

“Leon?” Claire’s voice came through worried through the slight static. A bad signal.

“Claire-”

“Oh my god. Leon. If it’s not an emergency, you can just text me.” The worry fizzles out of her voice at his obvious enthusiasm, replaced with a cross between annoyance and relief. “And calling to ask about Chris all the time isn’t an emergency either. I can wingman for you if it’s literally anyone else. You’ve mentioned that guy before-”

“Chris is sick.” He doesn’t have to look at Chris to know the way he’s watching him, attuned to the bloom of blush spreading fast and dark down his neck.

“He’s what?”

“I’m fine,” Chris interjects, weariness and congestion thick on his voice.

“Sick and at work.”

Chris shoots him a glare, but it’s too late.

“Chris,” Claire starts and doesn’t stop- until her signal, still patchy, gives out entirely. If the phone call had done anything, it had made two things very clear:

One: Redfields don’t get sick. But when they do, they get sick- this is only the beginning for Chris. Two: Redfields are bullheaded. This only gets worse when the offender is their counterpart sibling.

Leon would feel bad about the whole interaction, but it doesn’t really make of a difference. Chris is dead set on finishing the day. So on the way out, he doesn’t mention to an agent from HR how Captain Redfield’s feeling a little under the weather and might be developing a fever.

—

There’s an itch that follows Leon as the rest of the day unfolds. Just under his skin, sometimes behind his eyes. Nothing he can scratch or soothe. And he opts to ignore it, ride a little faster back to his place to put on the TV, let it drone in the background as he settles in with a cheap bottle of brandy.

He can envision how the night will play out for Chris. He’ll eat one of those healthy microwave dinners and insist to himself that it’s because it’s quick and not because he’s feeling like shit. Then he’ll take whatever he has in his medicine cabinet, and he won’t call it a night even if he doesn’t let work haunt him all the way home.

Somehow Leon ends up at the grocery store. He picks up chicken stock, a rotisserie chicken, some fresh produce, and a box or two of pasta. (He trusts that Chris still has an assortment of salt, pepper, and various other spices. It’s not like he could’ve cooked enough to run out since the last time Leon was over at his place anyways.)

It’s really a friendly gesture, if anything at all. Just like the key Chris gave him, which he slots into the lock and turns with practiced ease.

Chris, to Leon’s surprise, gets home on time rather than the few hours late he’d willed himself to anticipate. As soon as he trudges through the door, Leon’s ready to offhandedly remark about how he looks like he’s got one foot in the grave (he’d thought that was a little nicer than outright saying he looked like shit, but considering their line of work the punchline may have been a little heavy-handed) when Chris lifts his head, nose turned up. Belatedly, he registers the aromatics, the warm comfort riding pleasantly on the air.

“You cooked for me?”

Leon shrugs dismissively, nails slightly digging crescents into his palm as he scoops a spoonful.

“Tell me if it needs anything; I’m honestly not sure if it’s any good.”

Chris pads his way over as Leon gently blows the steam away. He opens his mouth, accepting the broth graciously, a hum rumbling through the tiny kitchen as he considers. He tilts his head to the side just so, still thinking as Leon withdraws the wooden spoon, the curve passing over his lip, and Leon’s quick to swipe his thumb over the droplet that slips past the corner of his mouth.

“It’s really good,” and when Leon scrunches his nose up in obvious disagreement, he leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead.

Oh, Leon thinks, and that ugly feeling under his skin is soothed, made quiet by the warmth blooming through him.

—

“You’re kidding me,” is all Piers says before he hangs up the phone.

He doesn’t typically run into Leon often, but it’s becoming a habit- not helped by the fact that Leon got sick too. (Of course he did, playing nurse with Chris as his patient.) And yet, he grabs his keys and heads out the door, mind already wandering the pharmacy tucked away at the corner of the grocery store.