#(chris out here making wesker question so many things

[wil-o-wispy]

The Wife, the Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 6

Pairing: Chris Redfield x FEM!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (you are here)

Summary: You're out of time.

Content: Canon typical violence/swearing, descriptions of blood, references/spoilers for RE5, spoilers for RE6, descriptive parasite body horror, descriptions of Uroboros infection, possessive behavior. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.

a/n: Oh look my love of horror is finally shining through. Also, I kept changing my mind on how to split everything up and this chapter ran much longer than I intended but I don't think I'll hear any complaints about that. Enjoy!

w/c: 11k

You feel like you’re being stretched thin.

Between redirecting Albert to other parts of the lab through the announcement system, answering Chris’ questions on the computer system, keeping an eye on Jake’s progress through the lab searching for the G-Virus, weapons and Youju’s office, as well as keeping nervous vigil on the poor soul that got infected by Uroboros in the hallway Jake explored, your attention is scattered to say the least.

And what’s worse, you’re growing tired. 

It’s a preposterous problem on the surface; monsters are mulling about, you’re counting down the minutes until Chris’ team arrives and you’re on high alert for any potential danger for you or Jake. How could you possibly have the capacity to doze off?

The problem and answer are one and the same: you’re human.

You’ve been awake and in survival mode for the better part of a day and a half.

Your tongue becomes stubbornly slow.

Your words to Jake on the walkie are sluggish and you have to make a conscious effort to articulate your words so they don’t run together.

Your eyes grow heavy.

You lean your head on your fist and blink longer than you should, only bolting upright when Jake’s voice comes through on the walkie or Chris’ voice emanates from the computer system with an updated ETA. Flipping through the cameras to redirect Albert or check on the creature keeps you awake for a few minutes, until you start drifting off again just as quickly. 

Your mind is exhausted.

You start to make small mistakes directing Jake to parts of the lab he hasn’t explored. The numbers blur together and you say them out of order. Your directions become jumbled. The momentary respite from responsibility from closing your eyes for too long becomes irresistibly inviting. 

“You doin’ okay Doc? You sound distracted.” Jake questions through the walkie nestled in your hand. You jerk upright once again, frown, then unsuccessfully try to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Despite the soulless white LED lights illuminating the room, the darkness that envelops you behind your eyelids in this moment is more inviting than any bed or embrace. The buzzing from the same lights would normally grate on your ears, but now serve as infuriatingly soothing white noise. You pick up the walkie and put it to your lips.

“Fine. You haven’t found any energy drinks have you? Coffee? Epinephrine?” You mumble into the walkie, only half joking about the last one. The last thing you need to do is fall asleep while so many things are relying on your eyes and ears. To your relief you hear Jake chuckle. 

“Can’t say I have, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled. 805 through 820 are also bust. A lot of offices, but not with the one we’re looking for.” Jake says through the walkie. You fumble picking up your pen and haphazardly cross out those rooms. Your purposeful marks have devolved into barely thought out scribbles. 

“Ridger that.” You reply, not even noticing the small mistake in your speech as you flick the pen across the paper.

“You wanna try saying that again Doc?” Jake says, the shit eating grin evident in his voice.

You huff and put the walkie back to your lips, making a conscious effort to enunciate your words. “Rodger that. Find anything remotely useful?”

“Old matchbook. Flimsy, but it’ll do. Could be useful if there’s a can of gas laying around to keep our friend in the hallway warm.” 

You think for a moment too long, flicking through the cameras to quadruple check the pile of Uroboros is still in the same hallway before answering into the walkie and yawning. “As long as everything is burned away, then it’ll work. I could try directing you to the hangar to look for one if you need a change of scenery?”

“I’ll take you up on that once I finish here.”    

The buzzing from the fluorescent lights overhead and the whirring from the computer systems are the only sounds in the room for a long moment until you hear Jake’s voice through the walkie again.

“Hey Doc?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on with you and Redfield?”

You frown and let out a breath through your nose, hating that your pulse sped up at his question. You’re silent for a moment. There was no way in hell you were digging into that can of worms now. You especially aren’t going to voluntarily divulge having an intimate encounter with Jake’s father’s killer.

“Difference of opinion.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was vague enough of an answer that you hoped Jake would get the hint and drop it.

“On what?” Jake asks through the walkie. You can hear a grin in his voice.

“Nothing important.” You quip shortly, fighting back a yawn.

“Sounds important to me.”

You roll your eyes and bring the walkie to your lips again. “I will answer any questions you have about your father with full honesty. But anything about me outside that? Case by case basis. Difference of opinion.”

There’s silence on the walkie and you think that Jake’s finally gotten the hint, but then his voice comes through again. “Alright then. How’d you meet him?” Jake says casually.

You pause. 

“Wesker?” You utter.

“Yeah. Umbrella?”

You nod, even though Jake can’t see it. “Yeah.” 

Another pause. “That all you got for me?”

You shrug. “It’s not terribly interesting.”

“Then bore me.” You can hear Jake rummaging through something on the other side of the walkie for a moment before the frequency cuts out.

You think for a moment, then figure why not? If Jake wants to know more about his father from your perspective, then so be it. “On my first day the scientist training me was out sick, and Wesker was the only person not stuck in a meeting who knew how to run all of the equipment that I needed to use.”

You watch Jake walk out of a room and back into the hallway on the cameras. You see him nodding his head. “So you two got to talking and got together a while later?”

You snort. “I thought he was an ass actually, so no.”

You see Jake do something like a snort or a chuckle on the cameras. “Is that so?” 

“Yeah he wasn’t happy about ‘wasting his time’ showing me around. He had an attitude so I gave it right back to him.”

You lean back in your chair, thinking back to those simpler times.

“First he thought I was a pain in the ass, then I started moving up in the department and we were rivals, then we started being placed on overlapping projects. That rivalry eventually turned into something more and he put a ring on it.”

There were more salacious details in between those events; lots of late nights in the labs and office rendezvous that would have gotten both you and Albert in a lot of trouble with management if you’d been less discreet about it. 

“You work on bioweapons together?” You see Jake disappear into another room.

“No. I worked in vaccines. He was in special projects. Occasionally those two things overlapped.”

“You know about the viruses or monsters or anything?”

You lean forward in your chair, flipping through the cameras while answering. Albert is still wandering and the corpse infected with Uroboros is still where it should be. You have to consciously remind yourself to open your eyes after blinking. 

Focus.

“I knew it was top secret and government funded. I thought he was working on combat enhancing drugs or something related to it.”

Chris’ voice emanates from the computer system in the corner of the room. “Redfield for Doc. You read me?” His voice sounds clearer than before. A sure sign that rescue is close. You put the walkie to your lips.

“Chris is calling, I’ll be back.”

“You two play nice.” You can hear the singsong grin in Jake’s voice and you have to bite back saying something defensive.

“And you do your part while I try to keep you alive, yeah?” You quip, tossing the walkie next to a security monitor. You roll yourself over to the computer system while sitting in your wheely chair and unmute yourself.

“You’ve got Doc. Any updates?”

Even though his voice is laced with determination and professionalism, Chris’ voice sounds much too soothing as it flows out of the computer system. “I’m happy to inform you I have a tanker about 100 miles out with supporting aircraft on standby”

“Thank God. And you’ve got weapons? Good ones?” 

“Affirmative. With all the bells and whistles and then some.”

“Good…good…” You start to trail off, deciding to rest your eyes for a moment in the chair.

“Has he broken character?”

Not on camera.

Not having the security cameras glare into your eyes is doing wonders on your ability to stay conscious. The chair feels much cozier than it did a few hours ago. 

“Doc? You read me? What’s the status on Wesker?” Chris’ worried voice breaks through the fog of sleep.

Your head shoots back up. You shake your head and rub your eyes. You have to stay awake. People are depending on you. Your voice comes out in a tired mumble. “Yeah! Yeah I’m here. Still holding down the fort. Not on camera, but I think he did in one of the blind spots about an hour ago. He had more blood on his face than he did before.”

“So that’s twice?” Chris asks, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves, bringing you dangerously close to relaxing a little too much. You force yourself to focus, lightly slapping your fingers on your cheeks to will the tempting blanket of sleep to dissipate. It doesn’t work.

“Correct. He’s still responding to my voice though.”

You can almost imagine Chris nodding his head on the other side of the call, mentally categorizing the information for later. His next words come out softer.

“And are you doing okay? Do you need anything when we get there? Water, food, medical attention?”

You look down at the dried blood on your clothes, thinking back to Albert mowing down the Neo Umbrella scientists back in the chamber. You wrinkle your nose in discomfort. “Change of clothes would be nice? I’ll take literally anything you have.”

“I’m sure we’ve got some extra flight suits around here somewhere.” You can hear a fond smile creeping into Chris’ voice.

“Those can be pretty cute jumpsuits with the right accessories.” You tiredly joke, unable to resist the comforting familiarity in his voice and not even realizing your mind is starting to drift.

Chris responds in an easy, low tone. “I’ll make sure to get you a couple options then. Can’t have our resident scientist not looking her best.” 

You let out a quiet, tired laugh at his light teasing, the sound barely escaping your lips as you lean your head back on the roller chair again. You can almost imagine leaning on Chris’ shoulder and falling asleep like that in his comforting arms. Your head feels so heavy. You need to stay alert, but sleep calls to you from the darkness behind your eyelids like a siren’s song.

“Doc?” Chris questions after your continued silence.

“Hm?” You mumble, barely conscious.

“Doc... Stay with me,” Chris’s voice cuts through, still warm but firmer now. “We’re getting close, but I need you sharp. Just hang tight till we get there, alright?”

“I’m awake… I’m awake…” You mumble to yourself, forcing yourself to open your eyes.

“Good. I need your capable eyes and ears at full throttle, alright? We-” Chris is interrupted by another soldier talking to him on the other end. In either your haze of exhaustion or radio static, you can’t hear what needs Chris’ attention. You know by the murmuring under his breath that it can’t be anything good.

“Doc, I’ve gotta take care of something really quick but I’ll be back, okay? Don’t hang up, but do a few laps around the room you’re in. Get your blood pumping.” Every word Chris speaks is like honey in your ears, seeping slowly into your bones and making your current situation a distant, dangerous memory.

“Hm.” You utter, blinking slowly. “That’s a good idea.”

Chris’ heavy footsteps are the last thing you hear before your body finally gives way, and your consciousness drifts into darkness.

You jolt awake when you hear gunshots, frantically looking around the room to see where the source is.

You fell asleep you damn idiot.

They’re coming from the security cameras. You roll your chair over with so much force you have to stop your body from being clotheslined by the end of the table. Your eyes quickly find the correct camera angle, and they widen when you see Jake shooting at a monstrous amalgamation of Uroboros. You smack your hand over the walkie talkie, struggling to hold down the correct button in your panic. You finally find it.

“Jake you need to run!” You bark into the walkie, eyes glued to the screen.

Despite your order, Jake stands his ground and continues to unload the clip into the writhing mass of bio-matter. He can’t hear you over the gunshots.

You slam your hand onto the security panel to speak into the announcement system.

“You’re wasting ammo you need literal fire to stand a chance against that thing! Run!”

You see Jake’s lips move on the screen saying some kind of curse before he darts down the hall, the writhing creature just barely keeping up with him.

For a moment you sit there just watching the chase unfold as you try to formulate a plan. Jake can’t run forever. The creature will easily outlast Jake in terms of stamina. 

You frantically look around the security panel, trying to find the controls for the security doors to try and trap the creature in a hallway that Jake isn’t going to need later to at least give him some time to get away. You find the controls and try to get your bearings on where Jake is running, and you realize he’s running back towards the hallway you two got separated at. You look down at the panel; GAS is clearly marked under a button close to the hallway security door locks.

Your mind goes back to the knockout gas. The matches that Jake found. You have a plan.

“Run two halls down, turn right and run all the way to the end! Prepare to light some matches and throw them when I say so!”

You command into the walkie, turning up the gas release all the way, then having your finger and thumb hovering over one of the security door buttons and the other over the knockout gas. You don’t know the exact type of gas this mechanism uses, but a lot of gas canisters you’ve seen over the years have the KEEP AWAY FROM OPEN FLAME warning in bold letters on it. You’re hoping this one is something remotely flammable and you can saturate the hallway enough for it to ignite.

You watch with bated breath as Jake sprints into view on the security monitor, sliding and almost falling over on the sharp turn but quickly regaining his balance by pushing his upper body from the floor with one hand and beelining down towards the opposite end of the hallway. The creature writhes into view a few seconds after. As soon as it crosses the threshold of the hallway you close the security door behind it and turn on the gas, finger poised to close the other door.

Thick white plumes of gas creep from the middle of the floor grating as Jake’s feet glide over it, following even closer on his heels than the pursuing creature.

You see Jake make it to the end of the hallway and expertly strike one of the matches, then light up the rest of the matchbook for good measure as he keeps sprinting.

“Light it up and run like hell!” You bark into the walkie, and Jake wastes no time tossing the whole flaming matchbook into the hallway behind him like he’s throwing a frisbee and high tailing it in the opposite direction over the threshold of the security door. At the same time you slam your hand on the other security door button.

Everything that happens next happens in an instant.

The matchbook doesn’t even make it to the ground before you see the gas ignite on the camera in the hallway. You see the creature slam up against the security door when the flames hit it. It writhes and shivers from the unbearable heat before the hallway feed is overtaken by white and replaced with static, along with a dozen or so other camera feeds that were displayed on the security panel.

You can feel your heart beating in your ears as you try to find a camera that’s still operational so you can make sure the creature will no longer be a problem. After another moment, you finally find one in a connecting hallway that gives you a glimpse into the now decimated one. The gas appears to have been connected to some of the neighboring halls, causing a chain reaction of explosions as a result. You can see bits of grate, security door and wall paneling scattered like shrapnel in the unaffected areas that you can still see. Piping from below the grated floor that you couldn’t see before the chase faintly glows red like dying embers.

To your relief, a pile of bio matter lies in lifeless black ropes, gradually melting away into the grating below with small flames clinging to it on all sides.

You sigh, shoulders relaxing as you let yourself melt into the wheeled office chair you’re sitting in. You speak into the walkie. “Jake, I think you got it.”

No answer.

“Jake? Do you copy?”

You’re frozen, waiting for a proof of life that doesn’t come, then your eyes flick back up to the security panel, your mind quickly putting together the general location of the cameras that went out after the explosion. A numbness comes over you. The cameras that are now static are located where Jake was running to.

“Jake!” You shout into the walkie, assuming the worst and shaking the walkie in your hand as if it will help you get an answer more quickly.

Suffocating silence.

You’re about to call into the walkie again, but you hear something to your right and you stiffen. You slowly move your eyes over to the door without moving your head, your heartbeat already speeding up again and dread creeping into your bones. The sound is faint, but the familiar walking cadence of your husband that you’ve been observing for the past few hours on the security system is unmistakable. 

Thump and drag. Thump and drag.

With your eyes still on the door, you slowly reach down to the volume knob on your walkie and turn the dial all the way down.

A shadow creeps along the bottom side of the communications room door, larger than a normal man. You already know with dreaded clarity the danger you’re in. You don’t move. You barely breathe.

Albert heard you. Stay quiet. Stay calm.

Maybe if you’re quiet enough he’ll get bored and go away. Even though you know your husband is more receptive to your wishes with the Nemesis parasite piloting his body, the brief moments of clarity and rage from the real Albert are enough to make calling out to him a risk you’re unwilling to make.

It feels like he’s standing outside the door for an eternity. You can hear the heavy breathing, the wet drag of the Uroboros arm on the wall neighboring the communications room that’s been your safe haven for the past few hours. 

Chris’ voice pierces the air like a death toll.

“Doc? You there?”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. A sound similar to a growl emanates from the other side of the door followed by a single hard rap on the door that rings through the room so loudly that it makes you jump in your seat and you pray to whatever deity may be listening that Chris gets the message that you’re busy and can’t talk right now.

For a moment you’re frozen in your seat, the stillness in the air hanging over you like an oppressive fog. Then, the inevitable happens. Chris’ voice shatters the silence.

“I know you’re busy with Jake over there, but we’re about an hour out from your current location…”

The more Chris talks, the angrier the sounds on the outside of the room become, the more frequent the banging on the door rattles the wall, and the faster your heart beats as you scramble out of your rolling chair and frantically try to silence Chris’ voice.

Where the hell is the off switch?

You fumble trying to find the button to terminate the frequency, but the panic short circuiting your rational thinking and making it impossible to read the labels on any of the buttons. You do the next best thing and smash every button you see, but you press them in the exact wrong order because you unmute yourself and raise the volume unintentionally.

Chris finally hears the commotion on your end, and speaks in a low serious tone.

“Doc is everything alrigh-”

“SHUT UP!” You screech, on the verge of tears still trying in vain to turn off the communications device. At the same time, you hear the sounds of wailing, crumbling metal at the entrance to the room. You look over your shoulder just in time to see a coil of writhing biomatter piercing through the metal door, and Albert pulling it right out of its resting place and discarding it without a thought of where it will land.

With a feral sound that can only be described as an incensed roar, Albert bounds across the room towards you. Survival instinct takes over and you dive out of the way just as Albert takes a swing at you with his Uroboros arm. 

No.

Not at you.

At the computer system. 

At the source of Chris’ voice.

Albert swings at the computer system and nearly bends the whole thing in half on the diagonal, breaking the screen but not the audio system. Chris’ voice warbles though like a bad record, his worry for you evident in the tone of voice even if the words themselves are unintelligible, and it only incenses Albert more. Albert rips and tears and pierces the system with manic movements, as if picturing his nemesis dying by his hand and not a piece of machinery long after Chris’ voice is no longer heard.

For good measure, he wraps his Uroboros arm around it and rips the whole system from the wall, with sparks flying and the sounds of protesting metal not ceasing until he flings it across the room and the whole thing resembles a crushed and hole ridden crushed soda can rather than a high tech piece of equipment.

The whole time this is happening, you can’t even take the opportunity to escape. Albert’s large body has effectively cornered you into the area with all of the storage boxes. You can’t get around him without having your body touch his in some way. That’s not the only thing that stops you though.

You can tell Albert is lucid.

His eyes are glowing red slits when he stares at the destroyed machine. He breathes heavily with beads of sweat dripping down his face, brown from dried blood leftover from hitting his head against the wall some hours ago. Or is it the remnants of blood splashback from all the scientists he killed? 

Leaning on the wall for support, Albert takes advantage of his momentary lucidity to reach behind his ribcage with his more human arm towards the regulator. His fingers fumble against the device, unable to get a good grip from the smoothness of the outer shell and the black secretions from Uroboros which causes him to growl in frustration. You see his eyes start to dilate once more as the Nemesis parasite attempts to regain control, but Albert realizes it early and is quick to act before that happens.

He doesn’t try reaching for the regulator like before. He doesn’t slam his head against the wall. Instead, he uses nothing but his fingernails on his non-Uroboros covered arm to dig at the flesh at the base of his hairline on the back of neck. Albert grimaces and shakes from the pain and the struggle to stay in control, but continues to force his fingernails into his skin, blood leaking around the intrusions until he has some purchase in his grip on the layer of skin. 

His hand closes in on itself and he slowly rips the sensitive skin downwards with a breathless cry and the skin tears away from the muscle underneath in one jagged flap. Blood spurts down the length of what you can see of his spine underneath the writhing worms of Uroboros. Albert wastes no time digging his fingers into the knots of revealed muscle to grasp strings of something decidedly alien with a shaking fist. Albert only wastes a few seconds to mentally prepare himself before you see him ball his hand into a fist and yank the strange strings violently to the side until the muscles of his good arm grow taught and he lets out a blood curdling cry of agony.

Knowing how powerful he was all those years ago, seeing Albert locked in a battle of wills for control of his own body is a harrowing experience.

You’d become fairly desensitized to the blood and gore that accompanies your profession over the years as a consequence of simply witnessing it; blood and the pallid flesh of the freshly dead, the decomposing death masks of the undead and the aftermath of the gnashing teeth from any number of genetically engineered monsters hardly made you bat an eye anymore. 

But this? 

This horrifies you.

Scientifically you could attempt to imagine the unsurmountable pain Albert was experiencing. The Nemesis parasite attached itself to the individual nerve endings on its host along the spine with extra tendrils eventually migrating to the hosts limbs, as well as a handful attaching themselves to the brain stem outright so the subject could be given orders without question.

As a result, the scene before you is gruesome. Albert’s ear piercing scream as he wrestles a fistful of the parasite at the base of his skull inch by painful inch is nothing short of stomach churning as you can almost hear the individual nerves around the bone of his neck snap and tear one by one as Albert continues the arduous feat of ripping his true jailor out of his body with nothing but his enhanced strength and his will to never be at the mercy of another ever again. The tendrils not exposed to the air grow taut under the layer of skin between his shoulder blades and cause it to tent away from his spine more and more as Albert keeps pulling with a trembling fist. Any other person in his position would have passed out from the pain and at least released the tendrils of the most sensitive attachment site. Instead, Albert only grits his teeth, the pain apparently aiding his fight to stay lucid, and pulls even harder.

You can only imagine the feeling would be something similar to acid burning over the whole expanse of his nerve endings. A dull knife twisting into the skin and attempting to cut away skin from flesh over and over. Burning from the inside out as if forced to swallow lava and boiling oneself alive.

The parasite tendrils aren’t indestructible by any means. Flesh is flesh no matter the creature. But the parasite has the advantage of not experiencing the pain of being ripped apart from the inside out. Having not to tear into itself in a desperate scramble for free will. Having to rip out an intelligent new body part that insists it belongs there. Having a prefrontal cortex that would remember every excruciating second of self-mutilation and partial dismemberment. Albert has the unfortunate character trait of never backing down even when it’s to his detriment in the face of insurmountable pain if it means he’ll once again be in control of himself in the end.

With a final yell that makes you understand the definition of a war cry, Albert makes a final yank on the handful of alien bonds and they finally break with a sickening, fleshy snap.

Albert collapses against the wall of the communications room, breathing heavily and groaning in pain, as well as blocking the only exit. His chest heaves for oxygen, and his fist finally relaxes and drops to his side. His face falls into something that resembles relief and subdued rage. 

You watch him like prey analyzes a predator, heart in your throat and frozen in hopes that he’ll forget you’re even here if you stay still enough.

You’re not so lucky.

His snake eyes open, red and faintly glowing with a mixture of emotions when they perceive who you are; anger, annoyance, intrigue, then finally they land on something not even you can definitively describe. 

For a moment that seems to stretch into eternity, the room is silent except for his shaky breathing and the fluorescent lights overhead. Then Albert finally pushes himself up off the wall to stand at his full height over you.

“You’ve been very naughty dearest.” Even when Albert is panting for breath, his commanding presence can’t be understated. He’s still just as intimidating as he was on the day he supposedly died, except his piercing gaze isn’t focused on the destroyed computer system Chris was speaking from anymore. They’re focused on you. Albert was in a vulnerable state and you took advantage of it for your own gain, and you know very well from your years being married to him that he doesn’t take kindly to people who seek to control him.

But you know when he looks murderous, and that’s not the unreadable expression on his face at the moment.

Albert catches his breath and leans in closer to you. Your back is already to the corner, so you can only watch as his face leans away a few inches from yours to stare you down.

“But I suppose given the unique nature of the circumstances, I can give you the luxury of earning my forgiveness.” His words hold no trace of warmth, only an unsaid warning: come willingly or else.

You quickly weigh your options. You’re cornered. You have no weapons to defend yourself with. Your only contact with the outside world has been smashed to bits. Jake is MIA. Even in Albert’s weaker state, it wouldn’t do you any favors to make him angrier or risk him being able to catch you before you even cross the threshold of the door out of the communications room.

So you do the only sensible thing and nod in agreement.

“Good.” Albert replies in that same cold tone.

Before you can even blink, tendrils of Uroboros wrap themselves around your torso and armpits, lifting you up from the ground and carrying you as Albert exits the room.

“Your assistance is required in the lab, dearheart.”

You and Albert don’t speak on the way back to the inner sanctum.

Of all things to be on your mind, your focus is on the worms of Uroboros holding you tightly to Albert’s side. You can’t decide whether or not Albert has full control over his Uroboros mutation. The tendrils writhe like serpents in a way that indicates they’re doing it on their own, yet they’ll bend to Albert’s command when he wants them to. The black fluid dripping off of them seeps through your clothes and makes a chill run down your spine; the feeling of your wet clothes sticking to your skin only makes the feeling of Albert’s presence all the more suffocating.

He carries you through the desolate halls, your feet dangling in the air, and you both finally arrive at the inner sanctum. Albert’s foot catches slightly on a guard’s body that he’d mutilated back when he first woke up. He scowls from the intrusion, then kicks the corpse to the side.

Before you can even consider a path to escape once you're out of his grip, a few tendrils on Albert’s Uroboros arm unravel from your arms and whip a fallen metal cabinet in front of the main sliding doors. You know it won’t prevent them from opening, but you have a feeling the measure is more to keep you in than to keep others out. The tendrils return to their original position binding your arms to your sides.

To your surprise, there are no indications that Albert wants to put you down yet. He keeps carrying you when he steps over the threshold of the broken observation window and into the observation chamber, then towards the cylindrical tank where he breached containment. Without a word, he steps back into the tank and pulls you to his chest. Your face is only a few inches from his. Instead of having butterflies, your stomach churns with the uncertainty of what Albert has planned in that diabolical mind of his. 

He pauses to stare at you, his eyes roaming over your messy hair, your bloody clothes, and finally your face like he’s trying to reacquaint himself with your features. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment, but you swear you see his slitted pupils inflate slightly when he looks down at you. 

Then just as quickly as it started, you observe his head twitch subtly and the pupils return to normal.

Albert makes a soft, “hmph,” and tilts his chin to the outside of the tank. A tendril immediately slithers out and presses something on the outside, then retracts. A metallic clunk resounds through the chamber and the tank lowers itself into the grate flooring below. 

The room below is much more cavernous than expected. The tank descends about two stories below the original chamber, finally stopping at the bottom in the middle of another room filled with more equipment. You notice storage cabinets, more observational equipment, some spare tanks like the one Albert was confined in, and an unusual assortment of large speakers lining the perimeter of the room. Youju’s words echo in your head: We’ve tried snippets of your voice and they’ve yielded positive results. It’s clear Youju and his team invested a lot of funds into setting them up. If it weren’t for the lab equipment and the emergency ladder jutting from the wall on the side of the room, the space could easily pass as an immersive rock concert space.

When the tank is finally on ground level, Albert steps out with you in hand and makes his way over to a section of the lab with a metal table and a console of some sort behind it. An intimidating contraption resembling a laser gun straight out of a sci-fi blockbuster hangs over the table. Your heart is in your throat, your mind immediately jumping to the worst conclusion, but to your relief Albert drags himself right by the metal table and sets you down in the chair behind the console.

His firm grip on your shoulder and downward pressure are a silent command: stay seated.

Albert makes his way over to a specific set of refrigerated cabinets, the door hissing out mist as an Uroboros worm opens it. There are several rusted cases with handles on them, similar to a briefcase roughly the size of a laptop bag. They look out of place in the pristine whiteness of the metal chamber. Everything else is modern and sleek like the equipment was upstairs before Albert destroyed everything. Several tendrils pick up different cases. Albert examines each one closely, scowling when it doesn’t meet whatever standard he has in mind, then places it back before moving on to another. Then another. Then another.

He’s looking for something.

It takes you longer than you’d like to gather yourself. “Why am I here?” Your voice resonates through the metal chamber and up to the grating above with no effort.

“You are going to be a good wife and assist me in eradicating this damned parasite from my body.” Albert answers pragmatically, like you assisting him whenever he requested is still the norm now like it was back at Umbrella. He lifts another case up to eye level and examines it. Albert doesn’t scowl, so this one appears to be satisfactory.

You can’t help but scoff at his answer. “And why would I do that?” You utter with revulsion. 

Albert’s head snaps toward you and you freeze. His eyes glow like embers, signifying his lack of patience with your attitude as he makes his way back over to you. He stares you down for a menacing few seconds, then gently places the case next to you on its side.

He clicks open the case and you can’t stop your eyes from going wide and your breath being stolen from your lungs. The case is rusted and dated because it’s an Uroboros syringe holding case from the Africa tanker. The syringe glints menacingly in the low light of the lab, similar to Albert’s cold anger underlying his next words.

“Disobey me, and that’s going in your arm whether you want it to or not. Understood?”

Despite your fear of Albert injecting you, there was always the protection of you not giving consent. Albert wanted you to want to take Uroboros all those years ago. As frustrating as your continued resistance was, in his mind, the eventual prospect of you submitting to his will of your own accord was too irresistible a possibility to abandon all together for something as trivial as his impatience.

Based on the burning embers of malintent in Albert’s demon eyes, you don’t have that luxury anymore.

What else can you do besides agree when your head is in the maw of the beast?

You nod, and steel yourself before you flick your gaze back up to him as you slip into a mask of neutrality. “What do I need to do first?”

Albert gives you an approving hum and turns his attention to the monitor, reaching over your shoulder and typing in specific parameters for whatever he’s about to have you do next.

“Targeted radiation on the parasite. I’ll handle the regulation device.” Albert replies shortly, not taking his eyes off of the computer system and typing away with surprising accuracy. After a moment, he’s finished typing and logs the data into the machine. You hear the sound of machinery whirring to life as he walks around the computer system and lies face down on the examination table. He looks somewhat comical with his disproportionately large Uroboros arm hanging over the side of it, with more than half flopping to the side to rest on the floor.

You briefly consider “missing” the parasite to radiate the back of his skull, but you decide against it. You and Albert know the Nemesis parasite doesn’t go that far up into the brain. Radiation isn’t painful in unaffected areas anyway.

“How did you know all of this was here?” You ask, moving the joystick so the radiation gun is directly over Albert’s spine between his shoulder blades, but due to the Uroboros overtaking the expanse of Albert’s upper back and the placement of the regulation device, it’s proving difficult to get direct access to his spine. His neck is no better. The flap of skin he ripped away has already started healing, but the skin is still red and angry from the stress of the injury and the blood that has trickled down against his pale skin. You keep having to adjust the placement of the radiation device due to the constant movement of the Uroboros on his body.

“I heard everything those degenerates were planning in my slumber. This new Umbrella will take any warm body into their ranks it seems. ” Albert replies bitterly.

You only nod and keep trying to maneuver the radiation device. After yet another adjustment, Albert snaps at you in annoyance.

“Pray tell, what is causing your hesitation?” 

You frown. “There’s biomatter in the way of your spine-”

“Irrelevant. Proceed.” 

You let out a sharp breath through your nose. You know this is going to be painful, but then again Albert isn’t one to shy away from pain. You turn your attention to the monitor. Albert had set it to measure heat, and it’s clear why. There’s a clear separation between the Nemesis parasite and Uroboros. The Nemesis parasite runs through Albert’s spine with smaller strands running through his limbs like burning crimson highways. The Uroboros strands run through the entirety of Albert’s torso and left arm like individual lazy rivers that intertwine into one unnatural, nauseating ocean.

You take a breath to steady your hand and begin with the left arm.

At first, Albert seems relatively unbothered from the Nemesis parasite disintegrating in his palm and fingertips. The Uroboros covering the afflicted areas only shiver and vibrate as the radiation passes through them. Occasionally, a strand will wither significantly, but most bounce back within a few minutes after the initial shock of the radiation passes. The weaker ones wither off and fall to the floor, melting away into a puddle. None of this seems to bother Albert. A necessary sacrifice. You see the muscles in Albert’s back contract when you guide the implement up the forearm and through the bicep.

When you finally make it to his spine you can hear Albert breathing heavily, no doubt with a gritted jaw trying and failing to look unaffected by the pain. He only starts to lose his composure when the radiation meets the angry skin at the base of his neck. His body shakes with Herculean effort to stay still, but it seems like Albert is reaching his limit. You frown. With how much he’s unintentionally moving, you can’t quite get all of the Nemesis parasite burnt away.

You pause the radiation to give Albert some time to regain his composure “Hold still. You’re going to make me fry your brain stem if you keep squirming.” You say coldly, still focusing completely on the monitor.

He sits up to glare at you with significant effort, breathing heavily from the lingering pain with a few tufts of blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Do I get not an ounce of understanding from my own spouse?” He utters lowly, clearly losing patience.

You let out a disbelieving chuckle. “And why should you? It’s your own damn fault you're like this.” Your face drops into something less amused. “What was that thing you said about Birkin after Antarctica? He was a victim of his own hubris and deserved no sympathy?”

Albert slams his Uroboros arm on the ground with so much force that it cracks the tiles and the sudden sound makes you jerk in your seat. 

“You never did know when to stop , did you?” He growls, striding over behind the console before you can even think to get up from your seat to move away from him. Albert looms over you, his eyes slitted and annoyed as he uses his Uroboros arm to trap you in your chair, a few of the tendrils wrapping around your torso and jaw to keep your eyes on him. You try to swat them away with little success.

“I will not be lectured like an unruly child by you.” Albert ignores your attempts to keep him from touching you at first, but his expression hardens a moment later.

“Where is it?” Albert says lowly, an Uroboros tendril grabbing your wrist to maneuver your forearm into his line of sight. His eyes glow faintly as he looks at your left hand.

You look at Albert with a tired expression. “I’m not a mind reader Al-”

“My ring. Where is it?” 

Oh.

Truthfully, you hadn’t worn that ring in years. You don’t even know where it could be at this point. You’re silent for a moment, but then decide to just spit it out. “I sold it.” You say with a straight face.

Albert’s face twitches. “What? ”

You take a breath and continue. “I sure as hell wasn’t going to dip into your blood money to survive. Not that I could access it anyway. The whole thing was mysteriously donated to the B.S.A.A.”

Albert sets his jaw. “That ring was a symbol of our partnership-”

“Oh don’t pretend there was any love lost those last few months. Hell, those last couple years we were together. That ring represented a dead marriage, no pun intended.”

“A temporary falling out because you couldn’t see reason.” Albert growls.

“By willingly taking a virus that would statistically kill me? Huh! It’s a wonder I didn’t see ’reason.’ ” You bite back, putting air quotes around the last word to emphasize how ridiculous you saw his claim even while the additional appendages from said virus are still holding you in place in your seat.

Albert takes a sharp breath from his nose. “When we get to the mainland you’ll get another one.” There’s no warmth in his voice; only the cold pragmatism that seemed to seep itself into every interaction, as well as an underlying impatience.

“No.” You utter firmly, your previous fear replaced by an unresolved anger that’s been boiling below the surface for years.

“No? You made vows, sweetness. In sickness and in health.” Albert recites the words like a binding contract.

“‘-and til death do us part.’ You died. I’ve already fulfilled that. And if you think I’m willingly going to put on another ring of yours, you’re senile! You have no idea how unnecessarily difficult it’s been to live my life because of what you fucking tried to do!” 

“Oh life’s been a bit hard, has it? Oh poor thing. I wouldn’t know anything about hardship.” Albert spits in a mocking tone, tendrils tightening slightly around you.

“You tried to destroy the world, failed, and now have to suffer the consequences. Boo hoo, you have it so difficult. Do you hear yourself?” You mock back.

“We would have been gods.” 

“You would have been god of nothing except the ashes of civilization, and maybe my corpse if I didn’t turn into a pile of worms first!”

“You are better than them. We would have ruled above the rest. We are destined for more than mere mortality!” Albert insists with frustrating conviction.

“And what is so horrible about growing old together?” Your anger softens into something more hurt and vulnerable. “You talk about making a new world like our old one was insignificant but Albert I liked our simple life!” Your words ring in the air and dissipate, only emphasizing just how different you and your newly resurrected husband have become.

Albert stands there in silence, still looming over you, then slowly takes a few steps back so he can look at you fully. The Uroboros around you unfurl from you in an almost caressing manner as Albert stares down at you, the mutated arm resting at his side. His expression isn’t kind, but it’s not mocking. It’s almost tender, but still guarded enough so that he doesn’t show you anything that could be interpreted as weakness.

“Spouses are meant to strengthen one another.” Albert murmurs, his ruby eyes gazing at you with something akin to longing before he continues. “I’ll just have to show you the error of your thinking. You’ll forgive me later once you witness its power.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and shaking your head, disappointed. “If you wanted a partner in crime, you shouldn’t have killed Excella.” You utter, resigned to the fact that your future will never include the man the progenitor virus took away.

The mere mention of Excella’s name makes the tenderness in Albert’s expression vanish and become replaced with something volatile. “You are the only one worthy.”

“Excella would have gladly taken my place without batting an eye. You didn’t seem to mind. She seemed pretty worthy when she was feeling you up and you didn’t push her off.” You accuse with a frown. After seeing the security footage, you’re positive he only allowed Excella to touch him to get under your skin. Why not use it to get under his?

“Don’t pretend you’re innocent in all this.” Albert growls lowly, his eyes flashing then dying down into their normal brilliant red.

You have to steel yourself for a few seconds to keep up the facade of strength. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“You helped them.” Albert interrupts, staring you down and taking a step towards you. “You helped him. You’re going to tell me why.”

You keep your mouth shut, mulling over your options for how to get out of directly answering him.

You know what Albert’s really asking: Why did you help Chris Redfield of all people? Thorn in his side, Chris Redfield. Representation of everything Albert sought to destroy, Chris Redfield. Mortal enemy Chris Redfield. Apart from him and Sheva being your only options for rescue and escape, deep down you knew you couldn’t do what needed to be done yourself. The Uroboros plan was Albert’s twisted culmination of Spencer’s ideals and you knew when you were rescued from being strapped to that chair that Albert would succeed at his plan or die trying. You’re no killer, but it was surprisingly easy on your conscience to willingly give the keys to Albert’s demise in Chris’ capable hands to ensure the world lived another day. 

But you know that answer will enrage him, so you do the next best thing. 

You lean over and swipe the Uroboros case so it falls to the floor, and you make a beeline towards the chamber’s pod elevator in the center of the room. Within seconds you hear Albert’s tendrils catch the case and feel a couple others wrap around your waist. You try in vain to rip them off, groaning in frustration.

“Tsk, tsk. How very naughty and disappointing. I’ll have to rectify that.” Albert tuts in a condescending tone.

He reels you in with more and more Uroboros worms until once again you’re lifted off the ground until you’re face to face with him, trying in vain to squirm out of the tenderil’s wet grip. Albert holds the Uroboros case up, then plucks the syringe out of the case and dangles it within your line of sight while giving you a stern look.

“Choose your next words very carefully my sweet. You wouldn’t want my hand to slip. Would you?”

Before you can think of a clever retort, high pitched feedback rings from one of the speakers on the other side of the room which causes both you and Albert to wince. As quickly as it starts, it cuts out and you hear the clash of something small and metal landing on the tile beneath Albert’s feet. The world goes white from a flash of light and there’s ringing in your ears. Then, a gunshot shatters through the air and Albert lets out a pained, angry snarl. 

“Little late for a family reunion, huh Wesker?” 

Your vision clears as you look up towards the voice and you can’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. Jake is almost all the way down the emergency ladder with holsters of weapons all across his body, a smoking magnum revolver in his hand and a pin from a used flashbang hanging off his thumb.

His clothes are scorched in places from the explosion, he has a few cuts and scrapes and minor burns, and he looks much worse for wear than when you last saw him, but he’s alive.

“It appears I missed one.” Albert grunts in annoyance, looking at Jake like he’s a mere pest and not a viable threat against him. To your relief, Albert places the syringe back in the case, shuts it, then places it back on the radiation console. He plops you in your chair. You briefly think about running again, but then Jake shoots at Albert again and Albert lunges at Jake and all you can do is watch the chaos unfold.

You’ve seen Jake fight beforehand you know he’s skilled in hand to hand combat, but it’s clear that Jake has underestimated just how fast Albert can be when he’s not inhibited by a parasite. Albert’s speed isn’t anything close to what it was in Africa, but it’s fast enough for him to anticipate Jake’s moves and land several unforgiving blows to his stomach before Jake can even line up another shot to fire.

After a particularly brutal jab that leaves Jake gasping for air, Uroboros wraps around Jake’s neck while Albert grips the holsters and yanks them off Jake’s body. Several guns and flashbangs clatter to the floor while Jake holds up the magnum, only for Albert to grip the barrel and aim it at the ground as another shot rings through the air like thunder. The tendrils squeeze harder around Jake’s neck and he begins coughing and clawing at the appendage in vain. While Jake is distracted. Albert rips the magnum from his hand and tosses it aside, then wraps his own hand around Jake’s neck to join the tendrils and lifts Jake up so his feet are no longer touching the ground.

Seeing the flash of fear on Jake’s face makes you come to your senses and dart out of your chair and shout across the chamber, your words echoing off of the metal walls. 

“Albert stop, he's your son!” You blurt out in panic. In a perfect world, you would have never willingly admitted that to Albert. However, between Jake having his neck snapped or experimented on by his own father, you’re taking the latter in hopes of buying him more time.

Albert’s arm stills. Jake is left barely able to breathe with his feet kicking air. Albert tilts his head towards you, a sign that he’s processing your words. 

“He’s your son. Put him down. He’s of more use to you alive.” You repeat in a wavering voice, your eyes darting between Albert’s stiff posture and Jake’s grimacing face.

After another moment of mulling over your words, Albert scoffs and tightens his grip. “You never had a child. I would have known.” Albert states coldly.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “He’s your son. Not mine. You and the Edonian woman’s.”

To say Albert’s expression softened would be inaccurate since that would imply he holds some kind of affection for the son he’s never met. Instead his expression becomes less hardened in annoyance, and more appraising; similar to how one turns over an apple to check for bruises or how one looks at a screwdriver to ensure it’s the right tool for the job.

“How-” Albert starts his sentence like he’s going to ask a question, but he stops himself to examine Jake’s facial features more closely.

“-unanticipated.” 

Albert continues to stare at Jake’s face, only slightly loosening the Uroboros around his neck so he doesn’t choke. He seems to be making mental notes about Jake’s face; the eyes and facial structure are his, the stature is his. Looking at them side by side, it’s impossible to deny they’re father and son. The only major differences are Jake’s slightly leaner build and buzzed red hair.

Albert tilts his head, letting out a barely audible “hmph.” He makes his way over to the spare pods near the radiation console, unceremoniously opening one of them and depositing Jake inside it and quickly shutting the door. The door hisses and beeps, signaling successful pressurization.

“Stay there. I have more pressing matters to attend to.” Albert states, making his way back to the examination table. The Uroboros enveloping his upper back shivers and shifts around the circular regulation device on his back, looking for some purchase in the metal.

“Hey!” Jake chokes out, coughing a few times before he can catch his breath. “Hey! Get back here I’m talking to you!” Jake bangs on the reinforced glass with his fist, not making any progress in getting out or getting Albert’s attention. Albert replies with his focus on the regulation device.

“Not to worry boy. You’ll have my undivided attention in due time.” Albert says, his voice practical and cold as he continues to try and get a good grip on the device with his tendrils, but they only slide off the metal without getting much purchase on the device. 

“We have so much catching up to do after all.” Albert grits, getting frustrated and letting out a sharp breath through his nose, then turns his gaze to you.

“My darling, twist the release mechanism.” Albert commands, his voice deceptively calm. Not seeing any viable way to refuse him and with a hesitant glance at Jake, you do as he commands.

With surprisingly steady hands, you twist the regulator on Albert’s back counterclockwise until you hear a click and a hiss. Underneath the mechanism, you see the hauntingly familiar sight of a glowing organ when you let the cover fall to the floor; his weak point. However, unlike Africa, there are thick bands of Nemesis parasite covering the body part.

So this is why the radiation hurt him earlier. 

You hear a soft hiss of air releasing behind you, and before you and Albert can react, a knife you didn’t see Jake carrying plunges into the glowing organ and Albert snarls in pain. Jake quickly grabs your arm in a vice grip and whisks you away behind some machinery while Albert attempts to remove the intrusion. Jake leads you behind a big machine with several monitors.

“You alright?” Jake whispers, eyes darting over your form checking for any injuries.

“I’m fine! How the hell did you-” You start to ask, but Jake puts up a hand to silence you.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than a candle to snuff me out, Doc.” Jake quips with his usual smirk.

Jake reaches into his pocket, then puts a remote in your hand. You look at him with a confused expression. “It controls the speakers, and it has a microphone. I need you to distract him.” Jake whispers with a determination that makes you immediately nod in agreement. You don’t know what his plan is, but you’re more than willing to follow along. 

You hear Albert let out another snarl across the room, then the clatter of metal on tile as he throws the knife to the side..

“My darling, you’re a smart girl. Can’t you see how necessary this is? The world is long overdue for a cleansing fire.” Albert announces loudly, scanning the room for you and Jake as he prowls around the center of the room.

With an encouraging nod from Jake, you press a button on the remote and see a green light illuminate on a speaker on the other side of the room.

“Do you hear yourself? What kind of husband insists on giving their wife a death sentence and calls it love?” You utter into the remote.

Jake gives you a thumbs up, then whispers, “Keep him busy, I’ll be back.” Then, you see him disappear behind some equipment. Albert makes his way towards the speaker with alarming speed, frowning when he doesn’t see you hiding nearby and then plunging his Uroboros arm into the speaker to render it useless, tossing the ruined equipment to the side. 

“What kind of husband would I be if I was against making my wife better and stronger than the rest?” Albert growls back, his red eyes glowing and scanning the room for your hiding place. He stalks the room, walking right by your current spot. You wait until he’s a safe distance away before scurrying to another position behind some shelves. You hit a button to activate a speaker on the other side of the room you can’t see from your hiding spot and speak into the remote again. 

“Do you not realize what you’ve done to yourself? You’re slow and weak. I don’t remember the last time I saw you this lost!”

You hear Albert’s heavy footsteps glide across the room, then the sound of electricity and a more aggressive clash of metal. His voice is low; a fake sweetness coats his words.

“Do you not remember how much I’ve done for you? How much I’ve provided for you? How much I loved you? I only want what’s best for you my dear.”

You change the speaker output. “So I should be indebted to you for doing things a good husband should do anyway?” You retort, speaking into the remote once again before crawling to your new haven of safety, switching the output to another speaker early since you’ve moved yourself into a tight spot under a table with not much else around that provides sufficient cover. 

Once again, Albert whips his Uroboros arm towards the speaker to clear away the equipment, which groans and breaks from the force of it. You hear Albert let out a frustrated “hmph,” then forcibly rip the speaker from the wall and fling it into the opposite wall. Despite his visible frustration, his voice is still even and persistent as he eyes the chamber for your hiding place.

“Come now dearest, don’t you want a taste of being divine? Your brain has always been your greatest strength. Don’t you want your other qualities to be just as insurmountable? Don’t you realize how special you could be?”

You speak into the audio system before you think about the consequences of your words. “What’s special about me didn’t come from a syringe!”

Tendrils wrap around the speaker and explode against the adjacent wall before you can even blink, followed by a frustrated growl from Albert. “Even when presented with the path to godhood, you throw it back in my face by wagging that smart mouth of yours. I think it’s high time I remind you who has real power here!”

It’s clear Albert’s patience has run out when he rips and destroys every speaker he can see from their respective positions one by one. The room is filled with the clash of metal, high pitched audio feedback, and the sound of electricity being freed from the confines of their cables. 

One of the speakers crashes against the wall above your head and you let out an involuntary shriek from how close it comes to hitting you. You slap your hand over your mouth, but it’s already too late. Albert pounces across the room, sneering at you when he sees you cowering under a table.

“There you are!” 

You try in vain to crawl away, but the tendrils are quick to coil around your ankle and drag you back out into the open. The tendrils once again bind your arms to your sides as they dangle you in the air where you’re eye to eye with an unamused Albert.

“As much as I enjoy indulging you in a game of hide and seek, I tire of these childish games.” Worms of Uroboros pluck the virus case from the table across the room and time seems to slow down as you realize what’s about to happen. You try in vain to wiggle from the grip of the Uroboros enveloping your body.

The tendrils hold the case next to Albert’s free arm, opening it for him and reaching inside. They search for a moment too long, then Albert looks down. You do as well: the case is empty. A growl emanates from Albert’s throat, confused and with angered annoyance bubbling below the surface.

“Looking for this?”

Yours and Albert’s heads whip towards the voice. It’s Jake aiming a heavy duty magnum revolver at Albert in one hand, and the Uroboros syringe in the other. He’s holding the syringe in between his fingers, playing with it like he’s spinning a pen for a moment before grasping it in a fist and holding up the magnum a little higher like he’s aiming straight between Albert’s eyes.

“Do us both a favor and put the lady down pal.”

Albert doesn’t move. He stands there with you tightly in his grasp, weighing his options before he forcefully tosses the case to the side into some smoldering rubble. 

“You will surrender that to me, boy.” Albert utters lowly, demon eyes faintly glowing with malintent.

Jake’s confidence morphs into a protective scowl. “So you can infect her?” Jake’s aim shifts from Albert’s head to the syringe in his hand. “Fat chance daddio.” 

A long silence falls over the room, only broken by smoldering equipment and the occasional burst of escaped electricity. Eventually, the silent standoff is broken by a chilling chuckle from Albert.

“Well yes.” Albert tightens his grip around your throat. “But you should know that there are consequences for defying my wishes.”

Jake’s eyes dart between you and Albert, his brow furrowing even more. “You’d kill her? After all that trouble to drag her here in one piece?”

Albert releases a chilling laugh that embodies disbelief and smugness all at once. “I can bring her back in other ways. After all, there are so many viruses and parasites to choose from. All I have to do is decide which one is worthy of my insolent wife.” To emphasize his point, black tendrils wrap around your throat and squeeze. It’s not enough to choke you, but it’s enough to dent the skin of your neck and make breathing just a little difficult. Despite the very real threat, you’d much rather suffocate than the alternative. You look Jake in the eyes and shake your head.

Destroy it Jake.

Jake’s eyes flick between you, then Albert, then the dreaded syringe in between his fingertips. He’s silent much too long for your liking, seemingly mulling over all the possibilities that could unfold if he pulls the trigger. He looks from the syringe to Albert, then you. His face morphs into something more relaxed and you know he’s about to do something stupid. Jake turns his gaze back to Albert with a cocky smile, holding the syringe between his fore and middle fingers.

“You want this? Then come and get it.” Before anyone can react, Jake uncaps the syringe with his teeth and plunges it into his neck.

Tag List: @killerwendigo @appreciativemediaconsumer @kaymarnun @chucklefak

a/n: Thank you all for being patient! The pacing for this part and the next was bothering me so I split it up and the next part should be ready much sooner than this one! Thanks for reading!

AO3 Link

[4th-make-quail]

5, 6, 8, and 18! (If you want to do all of them :3)

Fandom Questions

5. Which fandoms have your written fanfiction for? ahaha quite a few!! mostly video games with a few other canons scattered here and abouts

Final Fantasy XIV (27) Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) (26) Final Fantasy XII (18) Final Fantasy XV (13) inFAMOUS (Video Games) (13) British Comedy RPF (9) The Magnus Archives (Podcast) (8) Devil May Cry (Gameverse) (7) Supernatural (TV 2005) (7) Baldur's Gate (Video Games) (5)

Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022) RPF (4) Compilation of Final Fantasy VII (4) Interview with the Vampire (TV 2022) (3) Overwatch (Video Game) (2) Final Fantasy X (2) Dishonored (Video Games) (1) The Goblin Emperor Series - Katherine Addison (1) Uncharted (Video Games) (1) Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga (1) Metal Gear (Video Games) (1)

6. List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in. AHHHH THIS IS SO HARD I HAVE SO MANY OTPS SDLKGJL'FG okay here goes!

FFXIV: Sartauvoir/Basch, Gaius/Estinien, Lyon/Menenius Resident Evil: Chris/Wesker, Leon/Krauser, Jake/Sherry FFXII: Cid/Vayne, Ghis/Bergan, Ashe/Basch/Vossler, Ondore/Reddas, Ashe/Balthier(/Al-Cid) FFXV: Gladio/Noct, Prompto/Ignis, Nyx/Drautos, Regis/Clarus inFAMOUS: Cole/Zeke, Reggie/Delsin, Eugene/Reggie Britcom RPF: Charlie Brooker/David Mitchell TMA: Jon/Gerry, Martin/Mike Crew, Peter/Elias, Jon/Elias DMC: Nero/Credo, Dante/Vergil SPN: previously Dean/Cas, now Dean/Sam, Dean/Crowley, Sam/Rowena, many many others.... bg3: Omeluum/Blurg, Tav/Emperor, Orpheus/Voss iwtv rpf: Eric/Assad ofc!! iwtv: Armand/(old)Daniel, Louis/Armand/Daniel, Louis/Daniel, Armand/Louis FFVII: Cid/Vincent, Turks Gangbang in various combos Overwatch: Reaper/Soldier 76, Hanzo/Mcree (sorry idr his new name sldhglg) FFX: Auron/Jecht/Braska, Seymour/Anima(or Seymour's mother) Dishonored: Corvo/Daud The Goblin Emperor: Thara/Iana Uncharted: Sam/Sully!!!!! but i wrote Nate/Elena as a gift lol Full Metal Alchemist: Hughes/Mustang, although I wrote Ed/Winry for an exchange MGS: Sam/Raiden, Vamp/Raiden, BB/Ocelot, BB/Kaz, although when i wrote for this fandom it was..... a britcom rpf crossover LOL

8. How did you get involved in your latest fandom? well, i was SUPER into the vampire chronicles as a young teen but i basically read iwtv -> TVA -> blood & gold and then stopped, cos i was mostly HUGELY into Armand and then Marius, and less bothered about the rest. then when iwtv (tv) came out, i was HUGELY into it, but i wasn't back on tumblr back then so i just kinda squeed in my own head? so when i found out s2 was airing (i'd missed like 3 eps i think??) i just finally got into the fandom proper! and having Armand there now just gave me all the impetus i needed to start making things heh. god i love him so much... needless to say young teen me HATED the casting choice from the original film LOL

Current Fandom

18. What ship have you written the most about? it's definitely Eric/Assad atm!! i've written three Armand/Daniel drabbles for Seasons of Drabbles exchange, but man, the rpf has taken me overrrr

[legaciestold]

@everythingheard (leon) government medical facility may 27th, 2024

horrific images play across her her mind, eyes scrunched together and horrifically blonde hair in her face in a dimly lit room that lacked any form of significant color sans the items peeking out of a duffle bag on the chair in the corner that chris had brought her. she's spared the hospital gown, instead allowed to wear a loose fitted dso sweatshirt and sweatpants both because it made it easier for the wireless monitors attached to her and because her body felt weak the longer she was without the doses of virus the devise she'd been attached to had given her. a sheen of cold sweat finds her brow, her skin clammy and still paled more than it should be. a cell phone playing soft melodies from some parisian band that she'd put on earlier lingers near her legs on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest because she's just awoken by some loud crash of a sound outside the room she's subjected to and her mind had scattered into a million directions of it's own volition. she'd found herself sitting on the cool floor as if the sensation of it was some means of grounding force, the cold reminding her where she was, that it was real. she had control of her actions again yet her mind felt distant in a way that'd made her want to punch a wall.

frustration ebbs through her. anger too. and so many things in-between. this isn't her. so unfocused and skittish. even when the memories of those bloody handprints in that school plagued her she'd found a way to ground herself. some nights that meant she held onto chris as they were lulled to sleep by a storm and sometimes it was her talking her mind into compartmentalization. yet now everything felt disconnected and just out of reach. fear rushed through her in those moments of waking from sleep when she believed she was a moment away from living a nightmare she could only watch her body enact. then she remembers, wesker was dead. chris had made sure of that in the same way he'd fought to find her for a year and refused to believe her dead. he'd been there every step of the way in the last few days and she's pretty sure he'd nearly decked one of the scientists when they'd try to stop him from being in the room with her. they hadn't stopped him from bringing her things or giving her her phone after that either and jill feels like she'd have paid to see what wrath of god he'd worn upon his face to gain such easy compliance from them.

but chris isn't there now, even though he's rarely left her side since they landed and she'd been forced into immediate testing. she understands why. she does, even if the tests make her skin crawl. there's no way to know the effects of what lingers in her body or if the lack of the virus would make her body shut down without it (she was weak but she wasn't dead so that was a good sign at least). there'd been such a fine line between death and life when wesker had pulled her from the water and jill knows, even if she hates it with a kind of rage she's never felt before that his actions were all that had allowed life to flow back into her for her to be here now. even if jill in the here and now felt hardly like herself. fingers reach out and tap the phone screen, looking at the clock. chris should be there now, she thinks and considers the timing of everything was rather coincidental. the reduced sentence her father was commuted to that she'd secured in her deal years earlier had another two years on it and a part of her had wondered who pulled strings to have dick valentine released even earlier. she'd considered, maybe, somehow, leon had managed it until one of the medical staff had given her a card with a cryptic few sentences. trent. she'd ever quite been able to get a read on him and now she only had more questions than answers but she supposed he had his own reasons for it.

either way, she'd see her father soon enough. chris was making sure of that by traveling up to new york to pick him up. she'd half expected him to give her more of a fight about leaving her than he had, not that he hadn't given her some but she supposes chris was perhaps one of two people who understood what not having her father in her life was like for her and what impact perhaps seeing him now could have on her. there was a lot of things about the way she'd been brought up that jill had come to understand weren't how they should been, but she loved her father and him encouraging her onto the path she'd found had led her to chris. seeing her dad now was something that gave her a kind of hope that was difficult to keep a grasp of in these moments she battled her mind. a sound at the door brings her attention toward it, body alert and if she'd had more strength in her she'd have managed to get to her feet but the moment she attempts it she gets dizzy. the end result is a firm grip on her phone that she could at least throw at someone before she remembers there aren't enemies afoot in the hallways of this facility a moment later. it's a moot point when her eyes hone in on his haircut and then moves to focus on leon's face. she should have known, really. and maybe this makes her love chris even more. because if he couldn't be here until tomorrow, she's confident he's the one who called leon even if she has no doubt he'd have infiltrated the building soon enough either way.

"you have to pay the toll to come in." she states, a memory from long ago of two kids chasing away a darker memory that's lingered in her mind. "so you better have something out of your mom's old recipe book inside that bag you're holding." jill speaks with a released breath that maybe she's been holding too long. there's something about this moment, as strange as it is with her sitting on the floor and him standing there that finally makes her feel a bit more like herself even if she hates the fact he's seeing her in such a state. but in some ways, maybe leon knew her in ways even chris hadn't or just knew her differently because they'd been kids throwing flour at each other when his mother attempted to teach them to bake and she'd seen him after his parents died and he'd seen her when her father had been sentenced. she supposed, even if they weren't connected by blood like claire and chris were, her and leon had the same kind of connection. she realizes it more now maybe for the first time in a real and weighted way, in the suddenness of the moment, having realized how much she missed him.

"don't just stand there like you're waiting for your number to be called at bingo, help me up." still, jill hates that she needs to ask for help even in something so simple. hates that she can't quite do it herself. but nothing can be done about it but move forward.

[alphateamcaptain]

@biosurvive | continued

Evening hours settle in the office , the faint buzzing of the overhead lights making it the MAJORITY of noise . Any other heavy sighs or pages shuffled through came from either man , DISTANT BUT KNOWING . It was impossible to shake the presence of HIM . In most cases , Officer Redfield stayed behind for his work or a lecture from Captain Wesker , on how he could improve and what needed to be dropped pronto . Any other body varies along with TIME and REASON .

Window blinds along all glass panes stayed slatted , keeping his door inviting during hours , leaving it cracked when he is the last to leave . It was ALWAYS like this , meaning that , when Chris steps in he only figured he had a question or asking for another barking order to STEP IT UP .

Thinking he knew his men well , could predict their actions down to the pebble in his path that he is surely to trip over . Although this time perhaps he had miscalculated the avalanche for when he puts his folder down to turn his full attention to a man that looked so RACKED with indecision , as tides crash into each other of two different motives . To do it , or not to do it .

The stronger tide won , pushing down the weaker to become bigger .

ELECTRIC , a kiss of passion and the exploring desire to know more , know him deeper than just teeth . Wesker could easily push his officer off , report him for this but he did not , nor did he kiss back . Sparks of questions with no answers went off in his mind like fireworks but SPEECHLESS , he could never become that .

He stood up when Chris pulled back , abrupt and in his face .

❝ Apologies are said when the action is promised to never happen again , for a WRONG action . You are NOT sorry , Christopher Redfield . ❞

Has he gotten too close to his team ? Was his leadership being taking for deeper meaning ? Or was it only for Chris ? Has he let his iron grip SLIP over for him ? As the roaring flashes of their car rides for opening up play , every moment they spend together outside of a job being another opportunity to develop and grow , stretch tall into a HEARTACHE and ultimately the heartbreak .

❝ You are not in trouble but I want you in my office early tomorrow , before anyone else . Is that understood ? ❞

[selia1ailes]

THE RESIDENT EVIL GAY CLUB GAY CHRIS DRAG WESKER EMO ANGST MASSACRE!!!!!!

The Gay Club:

Chris, dressed in a gray T-shirt and cargo pants flashed his ID to the bouncer at the door. He didn’t know why the man was so insistent on checking it, as his buff shoulders quite literally towered over him. Though he just decided to take it as a compliment, not in the mood to argue. He had bigger things to worry about, like the wondrous levels of intoxication Claire and her friends likely reached. He slipped the card back into his wallet and stuffed it into one of his many pockets, the faint music suddenly blasting as the door was pushed open. Saucy Santana’s ‘Material Girl’ was booming over the speakers.

It took a very long moment to comprehend everything he was looking at, the raving lights not at all helping. The door shut behind him as his eyes traveled the club, the stench of sweat and booze filling the air.

Welcomed with the sight of various flamboyant drag queens and a scandalous crowd, he realized that even though he’d never been here before, he recognized one of them. It was Wesker, glistening in the middle of the dance floor, covered in… body glitter? A tight little skirt hugged his hips, his badonkadonk surprisingly voluptuous beneath the thin fabric. Chris couldn’t help but let his eyes travel his length. The hot pink rhinestone crop top he was wearing was slipping down, now revealing the heart shaped nipple covers stuck onto his chest. His sunglasses were on the ground, crushed. It seemed that they had been stepped on, pierced by a heel. It was the first time Chris had ever seen Wesker without them, the first time he had the pleasure of meeting his sparkling sunset eyes. He now wished that he got to see them more often.

Though that wasn’t all of it. There was also a rainbow wig poorly attached to his head. It matched the magical fairy wings that were sliding off of his back. The man was also dancing, impressively balanced on a pair of red pumps, especially considering the drinks he definitely ingested. Chris was 100% sure that this wasn’t his first rodeo.

As he was admiring the sight to behold, he suddenly felt someone jumping onto his back. Red hair grazed his face, and he recognized her before she spoke. “Claire?!..”

“Heyyy..! Oh my god you’re here! I had nooo idea you swung this way..!” She slurred out, reaching to her head and pulling off a pink bedazzled cowboy hat.

“Hold-.. hold this for me..” She muttered, placing it onto his head. She slipped off of his back with a distracted grin, holding up one finger to her brother as she backed away, symbolizing for him to wait. She was dressed in a blue tube top that he knew all too well. He looked over to the figure she was eyeing, greeted with the immaculate sight of Jill. But what was she doing here? Was she-..?

His questioning thoughts quieted when he realized that she was dressed in a red vest and black crop top. He squinted, double checking to make sure he wasn’t just seeing things. But it only confirmed his fears. That was the crop top and vest that were staples in Claire’s closet.

“I’ll be right back!..” Claire giggled before hurriedly stumbling to Jill and wrapping her arms around her waist, happily burying her lips into the crook of her neck. As the two women drunkenly held each other in lustful awe, the weight of what clearly just happened came crashing down on him. He hated to admit it. It left a sharp agonizing pain in his chest.

Claire took his bitch.

Now buthurt, he began to walk deeper into the club, taking off the hat and holding it in his hand. Despite the upbeat atmosphere, he didn’t feel much other than longing. He originally came here to take his sister, and whoever else was too drunk to drive home. But he had just altered that plan. One drink wouldn’t leave him completely incapacitated, and he suddenly really needed it. He took a seat on a bar stool and slumped over the counter. Moments later he heard someone flop down next to him, sniffling.

He looked over and saw his friend, Rebecca Chambers. Her eyes were filled with tears that she clearly struggled to hold back. Chris took a deep breath, worry grazing his brows.

“What happened to you?” He asked. Rebecca met his gaze. She didn’t understand what he was doing here, but truly didn’t care. She was just glad he was here.

“I should’ve never come to this stupid place..” She whispered, her voice cracking as she fell into her hands, tears beginnings to fall down her cheeks. For a moment he forgot about Jill and Claire. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder.

“Becca..” He began gently. “What happened..?

She slowly looked up to him, wiping her face. “It happened again! Again Chris!” She cried. “He said he wouldn’t do it, but he did! He got s-stupid drunk, and he made out with Leon!..” She yelled. “Again!” She emphasized.

Chris’s eyes widened slightly. He could easily remember the first time this happened. It was at Claire's lit house party, when Billy and Leon were dropping it hot simultaneously like there was no tomorrow. Though he genuinely thought that was a one time thing. Then again, it was stupid of him to assume that Billy could resist such a man after getting a taste of paradise.

Did Jill feel that way about Claire? Was she her paradise? Was this more than a repetitive fling between them? He had no idea how deeply they might truly care, or not care for each other. If their relationship was physical, or something more. And if Claire really was Jill’s paradise, then what the hell was he? The hellish reality? His head was spinning as he momentarily disappeared to the scary world of his mind. Though it seemed that by the time he returned down to Earth, it was too late to comfort and sympathize with Rebecca.

A tall woman stood in front of them, her figure hugged by a short red dress. Rebecca's slight confusion with Chris’s zoning out washed away as she stared up at her through teary eyes. The woman seemed oddly relaxed for the environment, a half empty glass of wine in her hand. The rim of the glass was lightly stained with cherry red lipstick.

“Oh darling… Are you alright?” She asked Rebecca gently. They seemed to already know each other. Becca's lips pursed before she simply shook her head no, bursting out into another wave of sobs. The woman replaced Chris’s hand with her own. She wore a soft frown.

“Come on.. Let's get you cleaned up..” She whispered just loud enough to be heard over the blaring music. Becca didn’t make any sort of verbal response this time, just starting to stand. The woman wrapped her arm around her shoulders and led her off. Chris could only watch as they disappeared into the crowd.

He swallowed hard, loneliness burning a hole in his stomach as he slumped back over the bar. “On the house, you need it.” A random bartender chuckled, sliding a Peachy keen over to him. Chris groaned and took a sip.

The Women's Restroom

The music dulled as the door shut behind them. The bathroom was surprisingly empty.

Rebbeca remembered Ada. She was the woman from the house party. She’d been drinking a glass of wine there too. Rebecca sniffled, slightly embarrassed by her tears. She doubted the woman remembered her though. She was assuming she was just helping her out of pity or something, considering that she was sobbing in the middle of a club. Either that or she was just a sweet, …beautiful person. She could never forget the flutters she brought her.

“Ada, right?” She began, watching as the woman placed her wine on the counter and collected a few paper towels, dampening them in tap water. “We met at Claire's party.”

“How could I forget?” She asked, growing a soft smile as she walked back over to her. Her heels clicked against the tile floor. For some reason, Ada’s simple response left a small blush on her cheeks. Luckily, it would be pretty well hidden in the mess that was her face.

They now stood in front of each other, face to face. Only a small gap was between them as Ada gently held her chin, and began to carefully wipe off her face, cleaning it of smeared makeup and tears. The touch was delicate, as though Rebecca's face was an irreplaceable artifact. Her heart fluttered at the closeness.

“I’m sorry that happened.” She began.

“You know what happened?” Rebecca whispered.

“I have to watch, it's a bad idea to leave Leon unsupervised, especially here.”

“You are now.”

“Only to clean up his mess.”

Rebecca's heart sank. Ada wasn’t wrong, she was a mess. An utter trainwreck. But it really hurt to hear that from her. She didn’t even understand why it bothered her so much, though she found her eyes burning with tears again. Stupid. This was so stupid.

“You can go, I’ll be fine.” She managed to get out. Ada frowned, pausing with the paper towels for a second.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

Rebecca simply couldn’t find it in herself to argue. But a question crossed her mind as a loose tear fell from her shimmering eyes.

“Why..?”

No answer.

Ada just started wiping her face again, cleaning the new tear. Though another smile had formed on her red lips. And perhaps Rebecca really was just delusional, but she swore she saw a slight tint in her cheeks.

A long silence passed. Ada finished with the paper towel, leaving Rebecca's face completely bare. She took a deep breath, tossing away the paper. “There you go..” She whispered, though not backing away even a step. She gently cupped her cheek. Rebecca couldn’t help but lean into the comforting hand, the flutters intensifying within her.

“They don't mean it sweetheart.. They’re just messing around.” She assured. This hurt Ada a lot more than she dared to acknowledge. Becca swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around her own waist nervously.

“But he told me it wouldn’t happen again..” She whispered. Ada nodded, but didn’t have a chance to respond further as Rebecca ranted.

“I trusted him. Why would he do this again? He must like it. He must not care about me… He knows how much it hurt me the first time, and he went ahead and did it again..!” She was getting overwhelmed again. “Does he even love me?!..”

Ada sympathetically sighed. “Yes, he does.” She whispered, no hesitation in her voice. Her thumb gently ran over her cheek.

“How do you know?..” Rebecca pleaded.

Ada chuckled softly. She had so many answers to that question. She knew because of Leon. By the way the man always came back to her with more desire than the last. The way he never truly forgot who his real love was. And if Billy truly was hers, he’d do the exact same thing. But maybe her judgment was also clouded by the fact that she liked her. Liked her just a bit.

“Because he’d be stupid not to..” She whispered, slowly guiding Rebecca's hand off her waist and onto her own. She still cupped her cheek, but did nothing more.

Rebecca's eyes widened with a new feeling. One that had nothing to do with Billy. Her heart was jumping out of her chest as gently held Ada’s waist. Slowly, her other hand found it as well, now staring up into her eyes. She didn’t know what was happening, what she was doing. The only thing she did truly know was that she wanted more of whatever this was.

She watched Adas smile warm, felt the careful hand on the back of her neck, the gentle thumb that ran across her lips. It felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest. She wanted to crumble into a ball and disappear, while also wanting to stay like this forever.

Ada took a small step closer to her, and Rebecca found herself tightening her arms around her waist. She looked down to her lips, and then back to her mysterious eyes. She felt the blush that burned across her cheeks.

They were only breaths away when the door to the swung open. Jill and Claire stumbled into the bathroom in the midst of an intense makeout session. Between kisses they giggled, murmuring inaudible desires. They were too drunk to care for the others in the bathroom, practically falling into a stall together and slamming the door shut.

Rebecca's blush now deepened, but this time with embarrassment. She quickly pulled away from Ada, taking a sharp breath and running a hand through her hair. That must’ve been what Chris was so down about.

“Thanks for the help..” She hurriedly said, nervously fiddling with the dog tags around her neck as she ran out of the bathroom, avoiding Ada’s gaze as she did so.

The bar

After Becca left, Chris was alone for a while. Saldy he sipped his girlie pop drink, propped up against his muscular arm. After a short while, he caught a glimpse of them tumbling into the bathroom together. Caught a glimpse of them in a heated make out.

Seriously?

Again.

At that moment, he gave up on sipping the drink. He chugged it, and ordered two more. He hated to admit how good it was. He wasn’t driving anyone home tonight. They would all be calling taxis tonight. As he slammed the second cup back down to the bar empty, he felt a hot breath against his neck. He froze, feeling hands that slowly trickled over his shoulders. From the corner of his eyes he could see a hot pink manicure on masculine hands. Finally he turned back.

“Wesker?-..” He muttered

The man wore a gentle grin. This close up, Chris could see the carefully done makeup. An array of blues and pinks, complemented with a golden eyeliner that had been painted with a careful hand. Wesker began to softly massage Chris' shoulders.

TO BE CONTINUED??

(PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!)

[winksasleeplesseye]

File #007 - Paradigm

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x OC

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: None

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Amara went over and over every interaction in her mind that she had with Wesker, trying to figure out what his play was…is. There was not a chance in hell that she could actually believe that he’d die that easily, though she’d seen the rubble in the pictures. That mansion was reduced to ashes.

But what about her? Knowing now that he was working alongside Umbrella, he’d clearly favored her for reasons beyond just doing her job. There was a certainty for Amara that it was more than what meets the eye, except the only person who’d know that now is who knows where. 

Amara knew what it was like to drown when she was about 13, she had her first and last experience that day. On a dare from Monet and one of her friends to jump into a local lake in Pennsylvania, none of them were aware of the tangles of branches from trees that fell in the past underneath the surface. Upon submerging, her foot got caught and she fought with everything to swim up but just…couldn’t. 

The scrapes from the branches, the murkiness of the lake, and the tearing burning sensation in her chest as the water went down into her airway. All of it sent her into a panic. It was only by pure luck that an older gentleman and his grandson that she was pulled out, every cough as she breathed oxygen again like a stab in her lungs. Both she nor Monet ever told their parents what happened that day. Simply another thing to chalk up to their chaotic childhood. 

While this situation certainly wasn’t on the same level, something about it likened it to drowning to her. The surface of the lake had been so pretty, so serene but underneath it held more horrors than anyone really knew. She certainly didn’t want to be the one taken under this time, or ever again. 

“So, you know me? What about you?” Claire asked, they’d been searching for the chess pieces. They only needed one more to get the doors open, only on one side though. The facility had two sides to it and somehow Sherry ended up on one side while Ada was on the other.

So, they needed to be strategic for right now. Sherry is the priority. Another part of Amara also knew that Sherry held the key to getting to Annette, it didn’t take much to put two and two together that they were related. 

“What about me?” 

“Chris clearly talks about me all the time but he never really tells me about his co-workers. Plus, it kind of helps to know your allies.”

Amara puffs out a breath, “Well, shit. What’s to tell about me? I literally am the most uninteresting person alive.”

She never actually knew what best to tell anyone even upon first meetings. It always seemed so…daunting. At least when people asked others outright to tell them about themselves, if she eased into it, it came to her more naturally. And this is coming from Amara, who considered herself reasonably confident.

“Everybody is interesting in their own way,” Claire points out. “Well, at least the ones I’ve met this evening.” 

Amara couldn’t really disagree. Though, she could only count on one hand how many people she met this evening. One more on her mind than others. God, I hope Leon is doing alright. 

“For right now, all you need to know is that we both probably want the same thing.”

“Fair enough.” Claire takes the answer she gives, but there’s a momentary pause before Amara caves. She would hate it if Claire assumed she didn’t want to be friendly. 

“Okay, I’ll tell you some things. I like old musicals. My mom is Haitian, dad is Jewish, not that you were asking but I thought let’s get it out the way now-“

“Musicals?” Somehow, that makes Amara happy that that is what Claire chose to focus on. 

Everywhere she went, the question was right on the tip of everyone’s tongue, “What are you?” except here but that didn’t mean she was hiding her heritage, more so that people didn’t care what she was, they cared for who she was. 

“Yeah, they’re nice, whimsical, all that fun stuff. Just don’t tell Chris about that. He already has jokes on me because I listen to the Spice Girls.” The musicals also drowned out her parents arguing in the other room, but that wasn’t something to tell her about. Still, she’d hold the good memories of them close to her heart.

“Chris has plenty of embarrassing things he does, I’m pretty sure I have plenty of stories so no judgment here.” 

“We get out of here, you’re telling me every single one.” 

“Deal.” 

—-

Leon’s return to the land of the living is quiet, save the quiet humming of machinery.

There’s a heaviness in his muscles he can’t seem to shake and there’s a definite chill to his skin, arms now exposed. He looked down at his shoulder, lightly touching the slightly soiled gauze, bright red slightly brown blood staining it. 

Oh, yeah, I got shot.

Shit, I got shot.

He vaguely recalls the brief bouts of consciousness after, though he’s not exactly sure what was real and what was imagined. The only distinct thing he could think of was…Amara. Ada. 

Amara.

He certainly remembers everything leading up to him being shot, something in him screamed as the shots ricocheted just barely missing Amara and he practically lunged at her, with no regard for the consequences. 

Except now he’s definitely feeling the consequences. 

How long had he been out? He stood slowly, checking to make sure he still had his wits about him. One thing he knew for sure was that Amara promised to come back but it seemed now he’d be the one to get back to her instead, wherever she was.

Damn it. I hope she’s alright. 

——

“Claire? And you again?” Annette’s voice boomed over the intercom system within the room. Amara and Claire finally, finally got inside the room where Sherry lay suffering from…something. 

Her heart ached as the girl let out whimpers and labored breaths as she curled up in a ball, her eye marked with an offensively red gash and similar colored veins lined across her cheeks. 

She didn’t know Sherry very well but she felt an obligation to protect her, keep her safe, that is—was her job after all.

“The you you’re referring to is named Amara. We’re here to help,” Amara spoke towards the intercom, “so whatever shit you’ve got with me doesn’t take importance over Sherry.” 

Claire tends to the little girl, “Sherry, are you alright?”

The girl doesn’t answer, whatever is ravaging her body sapping all her energy.

Annette speaks once again, but her tone has shifted. “It’s too late. She’s been implanted…she can’t be saved.”

Implanted?

Amara isn’t quite sure what that means but one would think knowing your own daughter is suffering the effects of something she hadn’t asked for would send any mother into a panic to get it out. Not like she’d ever had a mother that fully cared. 

But Annette sounds resigned to it, more than okay to let her daughter suffer amidst the chaos. It made Amara’s stomach turn.  

Both Amara and Claire seem to share the same disbelief and anger all at once. Claire beats her to voice her thoughts first. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re her mother. Get in here!” 

“You don’t understand.” Annette began to sound more frantic. “William is still out there, and if I don’t stop him—“ 

Claire cuts her off. “This conversation is over!” 

Amara lifts Sherry up into her arms, Claire trailing close by as they prepare to walk out of the room. But Annette’s voice came through the intercom one more time, all pretense of frantic gone into full-on desperation. 

Her eyes find the camera, the red blinking of light the only indication someone is on the other side of it. 

“Wait! Wait…I…I can treat her…in my lab. It’s not far away.”

Amara rolls her eyes, “Now you want to do the right thing?” 

“Please just bring her here and I swear I will treat her.” 

Claire and Amara share a brief look between them. A quiet debate going on, but for Sherry, time was of the essence, and standing here wouldn’t make her better. 

Amara looks down at the girl in her arms, mind made up. “Sherry, my name’s Amara…me and Claire are going to make sure you get everything you need, okay?” 

Sherry coughs a bit, “Why are you doing this?” 

Amara doesn’t even hesitate, doesn’t think about her answer. “Because I care, we both care.” 

—-

“A cable car? Down here?” Amara stopped in her tracks, surveying the said cable car.

Huh, so Ben was right. She had to thank whoever was above that there were people like Ben, curious to know the truth, and continued to dig for it. Living in blissful ignorance now was no longer an option. 

They near the door of the cable car, something on Sherry’s wrist triggering it to open. An automated voice rings out, “This tram is bound for NEST. Do not exit until the final destination.” 

Amara gently places Sherry on one of the benches within the cable car, having already relinquished her jacket to cover the girl with some warmth. “We’re gonna get you fixed up, alright?” 

The girl briefly nods and Amara raises herself back to standing level, walking back up to the cable car’s entrance. 

“You coming?” Claire asks, noticing that Amara stood on the precipice between the door and back towards the sewer facility. 

She knows what she said. Sherry is the priority, but what about Leon, hell, even Ada? She made a promise and she needs to keep her word. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Why were there so many things going on at once? 

“You two go ahead, I’ll catch up, alright?” This cable car clearly transported Umbrella employees both ways, it’d come back around…hopefully. That was about the only thing that convinced Amara that they’d all meet back up at some point. 

Without even a glance, Amara sets off into a jog back towards the facility. 

“Amara…wait!” Claire shouts for her. 

She quickly turns on her heels, already knowing that Claire probably wants to tell her not to go back, “I know, I know–just take care of Sherry, we’re going to get out of this together…trust me!” 

She rushes back up towards the room they just came from. Claire would just have to understand, Amara had made a promise and she fully intends on keeping it. 

Amara is not exactly thrilled to be back surrounded by the almost faint-inducing smells of rotten eggs, ammonia, and strangely…garlic (alongside some other rather fun ones she’d like to not recount). 

But, out of all the things she expects to see when she returns back for the chess pieces–Leon in the process of taking said pieces out of their sockets is not one of them. 

“Still kicking and breathing? I thought for sure you’d be a goner,” Amara comments, briefly startling Leon from his concentration. 

Leon turns around fully, a half smile on his face, “I’m too stubborn to die just yet.” 

Earlier, it’d been Amara that was quick to embrace Leon after dealing with that big monster, too afraid to lose her new companion in what has been certainly a shitty night. Now it’s Leon that clings to Amara tightly this time. “Had to make sure you kept your promise, didn’t you?” 

She’s careful to reciprocate the hug, not wanting to mess with his bandages. A small chuckle escaped her lips, “I sucked at that, clearly, but you didn’t stay put and rest.” 

“We’re on a mission, remember?” Leon pulls away, a soft smile on his face. In what Amara thinks is a forward move on his part, he takes her fingers between his. He presses her knuckles to his lips, and it all but sends a jolt through her. “You’re stuck with me ‘till the end.” 

“Ah, how nice. My own personal leech!” Amara jokes, fighting extremely hard to not let her face heat up. 

Leon scoffs in amusement, “Let’s get going, comedian.” 

“Yes, sir,” she salutes. She tries hard to fight to take the smile off her face. The last time she’d ever smiled so hard for anyone like this wasn’t recent in her memory in her adult life, maybe in elementary school, with a boy named Alex. This definitely wasn’t elementary school but she certainly didn’t have a particular word to describe her current emotions toward Leon yet. 

Ten minutes later, as Leon and Amara worked their way around to hopefully now unlock Ada’s side of the facility, they work to switch on the power from the main breaker room. Well, they wouldn’t be correct. Amara and Leon had been switching duties between the both of them and now it was her turn to redirect power through the system. 

It had been almost too easy.  

Nothing had been that easy all night. Or day. Time was running together down here. 

As if someone is listening, just as Leon walks toward the exit to the room with her trailing behind him, something bursts from above the frame of the door. It all but throws Leon off balance, right back into Amara as she steadies him.

“Jesus Christ!” 

What the fuck, can this night get any worse? 

Fire began spreading around the room at a lightning speed, whatever that thing is doesn’t want them to get out of the room. Amara looks around, trying to find anything to get out or even douse the flames, but there’s nothing that isn’t already getting burned up by the flames. 

Smoke practically assaults her nostrils, making her cover her mouth but luck continued to be on their side as whatever burst through the ceiling, ripped the metal grate on the other side of the room off the wall, making for an easy escape to a corridor. 

“It’s still alive?” Leon questions, briefly looking back as they both broke out into a sprint through the narrow pathway that opened to an open shipyard of containers. 

“You must be a magnet for this shit, Leon, what the fuck?” Amara’s heart twisted like a knot as she caught a glimpse of the–shit, shit, shit, the most grotesque thing she’d seen all night. 

It moved towards them, hot on their trail. Its flesh had mutated into a twisted mass of pulsating, mutated tissue. Its limbs were elongated and twisted at unnatural angles, ending in grotesque claws that dripped with ooze. Its eyes were vacant, devoid of any humanity–if it ever was a person, replaced with glowing yellow orbs that seemed to radiate malice. 

It had to have been a man at some point because Amara could just barely see what was left of…a skull and blonde hair lodged within the crevices of the pulsating, disgusting flesh. 

The man’s mutated form was a nightmarish sight, an abomination born from whatever the hell Umbrella had cooking down here. The pumping and squelching of his flesh, the oozing sores, and the twisted contortions of his body sent shivers down Amara's spine. 

The sight of this thing was a stark reminder of the dangers of Umbrella and the disastrous consequences of unchecked experimentation. 

Her eyes scanned quickly over the shipyard for something to stop this thing in its tracks. That’s when her eyes happen upon a mechanism used to move the shipping containers. This should stop the fucker. 

Without hesitation, Amara jumped onto the controls and started maneuvering the containers, using them to try and hit the monster and knock him off balance. 

“Leon!” She shouts, pressing the button to move a container. “Let’s keep him occupied!” 

Leon nods his head in understanding, unloading all the bullets he can into the monster.  

Amara was dodging attacks as best she could while both she and Leon switched off duties once again to keep this thing within hitting range of the containers, but she was caught off guard by a mutated arm as it swiped at her, leaving a deep gash in her side. Despite the pain, Amara continued to fight alongside Leon, her determination unwavering.

Leon gritted his teeth and continued his assault on it, narrowly avoiding his deadly swipes as he used the containers as makeshift weapons. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the monster was defeated, falling to the depths of the facility.

Amara comments, looking over the edge as it disappeared into the darkness, “Hope that we never see that asshole again.” 

An almost stabbing pain rises up from the side again where she was slashed which sends her to her knees. Leon rushes over to her, his face pale as he notices her.

“Mind if I take a look?” Leon kneels next to her, already pulling out something from one of his uniform’s pouches. 

“It’s just a flesh wound, I’ll live,” Amara waves him off. She usually isn’t that careless but she’s pretty sure it’s more than a flesh wound but maybe it’s in Leon’s best interest to not worry about her, so she doesn’t tell him. 

Leon’s face dons a look of genuine concern. “At least let me bandage it up, put antibiotics on it..something?”

Amara can already tell he wasn’t convinced. She would’ve loved to tell him that yeah, getting swiped by a mutated monster like that hurts like hell and yeah, some ointment or even those herbs he’d been using on himself would be nice right now. Instead, she swallowed the pain and moved on. 

Wound or not, they had to keep moving. 

Standing once again, Leon catches her by the arm, turning her towards him. 

“You absolutely sure you’re alright?” Leon had a slight edge to his words. Of course, he’s not stupid, Amara would never believe otherwise. 

“Like a million bucks, Leon. You trust me?” 

She can see a number of emotions flicker through Leon’s eyes. But they all culminate in what only she can assume is a resolve. For now. 

He sighs, “Okay, but if you even start to hurt even a bit…we’re getting you treatment.”

“Only if you carry me wherever you take me, Prince Charming,” Amara smirks, walking along the path created by the broken pieces of scaffolding. “What a duo, gunshot and a slash, the grave might see us soon enough.”

Leon shakes his head briefly, probably not believing Amara could still be flirty at a time like this. To be fair, Amara didn't consider herself someone who is going to miss an opportunity throughout this whole ordeal to hit on Leon. Even with all the grime and shit on him. 

“Seems both of us aren’t giving up the ghost that easily.” 

“Let’s not push our luck. I’d very much like to see the next sunrise.”

[alpurrtwhizkersss]

a little introduction [2023]

hey, my name’s Alpurrt, otherwise known as alpurrtwhizkersss here on Tumblr, and I’m 18 :)

i decided i’d do an introduction post because i’m thinking of starting to write on here. 

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/alpurrtwhizkersss/698998070518644736/i-love-you?source=share

i’ll be writing on my own, so i don’t rely on requests but they’d be really great to recieve!

you can find my pronouns in my bio, they may change quite often so i’m not going to put them here because i can’t be bothered coming back to edit this post every week :’)

i do lots of things! my main passion is art, but i’m not sure how much of that i’ll be posting on here, so i’ll mainly be posting about my other passion, which is writing!

here’s the good bit that you all probably care about, what fandoms i write for! okay, actually, first i’m going to tell you my rules for writing:

feel free to request things using the ask box! i’ll always have in my bio whether my requests are open or closed, and i’ll try and get to requests (if i get any) as soon as i can, but since i’m currently at school they may take a while, so please be patient with me :D

I will not write:

Smut, requests concerning serious mental disorders/issues, very dark topics, anything which could insinuate a lack of consent in a relationship, other’s OCs/self-inserts, canon ships (I only write X Readers!)

I will write:

Angst, fluff, making out, hurt/comfort, injury/violence descriptions (this does not mean self harm, I’m sorry but I don’t feel comfortable writing about this topic.), X Reader write from prompts if you give me a prompt and a character, platonic!reader, familial relationship!reader (NOT ROMANTIC) and LGBT+!Reader/Ships!

If you have any questions about these rules/want to clear anything up, drop me an ask!

NOW! Fandoms I write for (With the characters!)

Star Wars:

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Poe Dameron, Finn, Rey Skywalker, Padme Amidala, Han Solo, Leia Organa-Solo, Qui-Gon Jinn, Lando Calrissian, Satine Kryze- All of the clones, I’ll really write for anyone from Star Wars, apart from Rebels- since I haven’t seen that yet! But I will update you all when I have :)

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Stephen Strange, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson, Shang Chi, Katy Chen, pretty much all of the Eternals apart from Sprite, Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker, Miles Morales, Foggy Nelson, and Matt Murdock.

I will write for pretty much every X-Men character, I also write for the Fantastic 4 :)

DC:

I write for Gotham as well as other DC canons, so literally send ‘em all in, but if you want specifics:

Every Young Justice character, the entire Batfamily (Damian is questionable, depends what the request entails.), most villains apart from The Joker, most Arrowverse characters, characters from the Sandman, The Suicide Squad (2021), Peacemaker, and John Constantine. There’s probably many more I haven’t thought of, so like I said, just send them all in to me :)

Resident Evil: 

Leon S Kennedy, Ada Wong, Albert Wesker, Claire Redfield, Chris Redfield, Ethan Winters, William Birkin, Annette Birkin, Sherry Birkin, Jake Mueller, Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, Karl Heisenberg, Rose Winters, Joseph Frost, Richard Aikens, Forest Speyer, Luis Sera, Ashley Graham.

Finally, we have some other fandoms that I write for but that aren’t my mains! I won’t be listing names of characters I write for these fandoms so just send a request in and I’ll likely do it :)

Lord Of The Rings

Star Trek

Doctor Who

His Dark Materials (I won’t write for Lyra unless she’s older)

Criminal Minds

The Lost Boys

BBC Ghosts

Supernatural

The Umbrella Academy

The Matrix

RDR2

Final Fantasy 7

Harry Potter/Marauders

Power Rangers

TMNT

Les Miserables

Nancy Drew Video Games

The Hardy Boys

Assassin’s Creed

Stranger Things

It (2017/19)

The Walking Dead

James Bond (PLEASE SOMEBODY ASK ME TO WRITE FOR THESE MOVIES I’M LITERALLY BEGGING)

Dirk Gentley’s Holistic Detective Agency

Six of Crows

Hannibal

Newsies

The Walking Dead

helplines:

America:

https://www.apa.org/topics/crisis-hotlines

Britain:

https://www.centreformentalhealth.org.uk/helplines-and-crisis-contacts#:~:text=If%20you're%20in%20crisis,line%20%2D%20text%20SHOUT%20to%2085258

[pptheshort]

The leap chapter 2 Albert wesker x GN reader

❗⚠️Warnings: Toxic behavior, possessiveness, slightly decision of death/being killed. Please read with caution if any of these things are triggering to you. ⚠️❗

A/n: Hello bitches and bros and nonbinary hoes! Little A/N here so I had to rewrite chapter 2 because I was satisfied with the original one. I may publish it as a later chapter or publish it as a alternative chapter 2. But I don't think it would make much sense since the original chapter 2 is very fluffy best to say. It had a kiss scene and everything 😳

Summary: Instead of Jill jumping out of the window to save Chris you take her place. Unaware of the things that will take place in the future. One simple decision has now completely changed your life for the better or worse?

Word count: 1,906

Chapter 1:

___________________________________________

It's been two weeks since your last encounter with Albert, the only form of human contact you had was with your doctors and nurse and that wasn't enough. The doctors came in for an hour while the nurse was coming in to check vitals and give you food so it was for maybe a couple of minutes. Then you would be alone, being alone by yourself made you think about many things. Escaping was one of the things you thought of but you could barely walk and the door in your room was always locked but that didn't stop you from forming a plan. It was a decent plan at best.

You had slightly memorized the time when the nurse would come in. Today you wanted to make a slight attempt to escape or maybe get another object that would benefit you in this plan. Over the course of a week you managed to steal a bobby pin. It wasn't much but it was something. 

But the constant fear of getting caught by Albert was what you feared the most, you could only walk with a cane and you couldn't run yet and you could barely stand for five minutes. So if you did escape and the people who worked in this facility found out, Albert catching you would most likely happen. The thought of him running up to you scared you so much. You were pulled back into reality when the sound of the door unlocking filled your ears. It was 12:45pm a bit early for the nurse to come in, you stared at the door. When it opened you saw Albert walk in, he was wearing his normal attire and trademark sunglasses. You stared at him not saying a word, when Albert closed the door the sound of the door clicking once again filled your ears.

"Why hello there Mr. Wesker." You wanted to get him on his good side so that if you did escape and he caught you maybe he wouldn't kill you. You decided to refer to him as Mr. Wesker to try to get on his good side. You almost cringed when you said Mr. Wesker.

"How nice of you to greet me." Albert responded he had a smirk on his face when he said that.

"How are you today?" You began to ask hoping everything is going accordingly.

He began to sit on the end of your bed, Albert opened his mouth to speak: "I would say it's going very accordingly."

"That's good." You nodded your head in response to him.

The two of you sat in silence, you looked down at the bed sheets while Albert was looking at you. You felt nervous, scared is the best thing to say. You didn't want him catching onto you, you ripped his thoughts when Albert cleared his throat.

"You've been here in this room and I'm surprised you haven't made a big fuss out of it, you know if you keep up this good behavior I'll maybe allow you to walk around the facility with supervision, of course." Albert said as he moved closer to you.

'This is going to be easier than I thought, huh?' You thought to yourself. You nodded your head and put on a smile for him: "Thank you."

Albert once again moved closer, his face now inches away from yours. He grabbed your face and pulled it closer to his. This made your heart race, Albert had let out a chuckle: "You know you are a very good specimen so why not take you out on a little walk. Wouldn't you like that, hm?"

You felt so embarrassed and slightly humiliated you could tell he was toying with you like how a predator toys with their prey. Instead of saying anything you decided to nod your head.

"Now what do we say?" Albert said in a mocking tone. At this point you knew he was toying with you, trying to get under your skin.

"Thank you."

Once again Albert started to speak but this time he had let go of your face and stood up: "That's a good specimen."

You couldn't help but almost cringe when he called you that, you are already running thin on patience so one more thing out of his mouth is going to be the end of you. Albert offered to hold your hand, without thinking you took his hand.  Albert pulled you close to him, you almost fell down due the sudden movement but Albert caught you.

"May I grab my cane, to help me walk. Please?" You asked

Albert nodded, you reached for the cane that was near your nightstand. Once you grabbed your cane you followed Albert who was waiting by the door.

'This is my chance to escape. But what if it doesn't work? Fuck it if I die here it will be better than being here.' When you reached Albert you heard the sound of the door unlocking, you noticed he was holding a key in his hand. When he proceeded to open the door without thinking you jabbed your cane into Albert, this caused him to fall over and drop his key. You took this opportunity to take the key and leave the room. When you left the room you slammed the door behind you making sure you locked it. Because you couldn't run you ended up speed walking through the empty hallways. Entering some rooms here and there to find any weapon to help you defend yourself against Albert.

When you entered what you assumed was a supply closet, you heard footsteps running pass the door and a familiar voice saying "You can't hide forever!"

Your heart began to beat fast, you had to compose yourself. This wasn't the time to panic. Standing for such a long time puts a strain on your legs, walking becomes harder to do. So staying in the supply closet was a must do. You sat in there for what seemed like 30 minutes once the pain died down a bit you stood up and started to head back into the hallway. Once again you walked the seemingly endless hallways, and you almost got caught by Albert a couple of times. You managed to not be seen by the workers in this facility.

You reached an area where there were no workers, you explored through it and found a door that could possibly lead to the exit. You began to walk faster with your legs once again in agonizing pain. You almost reached the door when you saw a familiar figure near the door.

'Shit!'  You thought to yourself you began backing away when Albert began to approach you. You ended up trying to back away, unable to hide your emotions anymore fear ended up controlling you at this point. When Albert was now in front of you he began to chuckle a bit.

"This was such an entertaining game, it was so fun seeing you run around the facility thinking you were going to get out. You should see the look on your face, y/n." Albert cupped his hands on your cheeks.

"Let me fucking go." You spotted him.

"Hold your tongue, if I could I could kill you right now. Once again you probably want that."

"Why are you doing this?" You asked your voice slightly cracking

Albert had paused to think about his answer. He ended up ignoring the question all together. Albert began to change the conversation back to this whole fiasco. 

"I'm having so much fun that I'll allow you to continue this game we are having but y/n get a little more creative next time, dear heart."

You hadn't heard that name in a long time. Albert would call you dear heart when the two of you dated. You almost cringed when he said that name again, you tried to back away from him but he didn't let you.

"Remember when I would call you that? Or you begged for me to call you that." 

You didn't want him to say another word, the Albert you fell in love with died back in July 1998 now that's left is a sick power hungry man who only wants to change the world to match his expectations. Albert noticed how this was seemingly getting under your skin now, reopening old wounds. A part of him wanted to stop but he ended up counting to 'tease' you.

"Remember on that day, when we went to the Spencer mansion? It was the day before our anniversary, you seemed so excited to give me your gift but th-."

Before Albert could finish his sentence you had shouted at him to shut up. Seeing how you reacted he felt bad. This was out of character for him, he was soon snapped out of his thoughts when you had pushed him away. You had ended up falling backwards.

"Why am I here? What do you want from me?" You asked, your voice slowly rising.

Albert walked next to you and squatted down next to you. "Y/n, you are here for many reasons. But one of the reasons is because I want you by my side once again. I want you to be mine again, after all these years I thought my feelings for you would've died off but my dear Y/n they haven't. It only got stronger after all these years. '' Albert's tone was now more gentle. He was regretting the things he did, he made sure you didn't catch on. 

"But-."

Albert had shushed you before you could even say your sentence. "Allow me to finish. Why don't you join me, if you do we can be together once again or you don't. Nothing is stopping you from refusing my offer." Albert had ended up pulling you closer to him.

You thought about it for a moment but joining him would increase your chances of escaping and getting out of here. A part of you couldn't completely understand what he was saying to you, just a moment ago he was trying to play with your emotions so why did he suddenly have a change of heart. It was a high possibility he was lying but you wanted to believe him because similar to him you still had feelings but at this point they were so 'dead'. You made your decision, you were going to join him.

"Fine, I'll join you."

Albert's face lit up and it was noticeable too. Albert said anything else he picked you up, grabbed your cane and started to walk to your room. On the way over there he began to speak.

"From now on I'll be coming into your room to come see you more often my dear."

That's all he said you nodded your head in response to him. Once the two of you reached your room Albert placed you down on your bed but before he left he asked for the key back, you gave it back to him. When Albert left the room he locked it behind him, after waiting a couple of minutes you couldn't help but slightly cry in what you assume is frustration. You wished you never jumped out of that window but if you didn't Chris would've been killed and who knows what would've happened to Jill. 

'I'll make sure I get out of here, no matter the cost I will.'

[morgan1413]

Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City - Spoiler Review

Here is my full written review for the latest reboot in the Resident Evil movie franchise. Overall I particularly enjoyed it, far more so than I was expecting especially seeing some of the fan feedback beforehand. I give this film a 7.5/10 for a multitude of reasons, read on to find out more!

(MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE FILM AHEAD, BE WARNED)

Character Overview

Wesker was by far the standout character to me throughout the entirety of the film. I like the way they made him fit in with the rest of the squad a little more with a bit more chemistry between the characters, especially Jill. He felt like a way more natural character than he does in the games, just being some guy who isn’t a scientist and with no hints as to the whole “Wesker siblings” thing existing within this canon, which I was pleased with. Being money-obsessed to the point of killing others felt more like Nicholai trait than anything, which I guess makes sense seeing as he isn’t here. Overall, I think he was well acted and written in an interesting way, I kind of just wish his betrayal felt more impactful seeing as it kind of felt rushed and glossed over. I also particularly liked his more “inhuman” traits from the games shining through towards the end, especially when he’s talking to Sherry, so I hope we see more of him in the future.

Chris felt just about where he needed to be. I like the fact that the “protective older brother” aspect from the games carried over into this film. Whilst I wish there was more of him (and same goes for most of the characters really) I felt like what was here felt true to character in a way that felt natural. I’m struggling to find much else to say here, I’d say that although he was well written and acted, he didn’t stick in my mind as well as the others, which is a shame, but I’ll get into that more later.

Jill was probably my biggest disappointment out of the main protagonist group. Not only is she barely in the film, and when she is she doesn’t exactly feel like Jill. She acts wild and reckless unlike the more calm and controlled manner that we see from the games. The character is portrayed well, I just wish that they stuck to the source material here a little more especially seeing as she’s a fan favourite. Also, that thing she has with Wesker felt a bit off also and felt more like a weird ship insert from the Writer/Director than anything, but honestly it didn’t unsettle me as much as I thought it would and would’ve made his betrayal more impactful if they chose to focus on that harder.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Leon was the star of the show for many newcomers to the franchise watching this for the first time. His status as a rookie was played off well in a way that felt more approachable and relatable and if anything was more realistic than the games where he seems to deal with everything with far more confidence. Even if his continual questioning of everything felt more Ethan Winters-esque, he got the biggest response out of any of the characters with the audience I saw the movie with. He felt true to the rookie Leon of RE2, and for that alone I feel like this character is an instant hit in my books.

Claire was the focus of the film, and whilst she wasn’t the main protagonist of the story like the posters made her out to be, she carried a lot of the story beats on her more than capable shoulders. Like with Leon and Chris, I felt she was true to her character with her own flair, being a protective but confident young woman who is willing to do anything to protect those around her. After seeing people overreact to her not having a ponytail, it feels a shame to see how well the character is portrayed on the big screen. She’s got me hopeful for a Code: Veronica adaptation so I think that’s all I really must tell you about how I feel with this character.

Chief Irons was a strange one to me, but in a good way. I like how he comes across as a bit of a weirdo to begin with (not nearly as bad as the games though) and his sudden decision to leave the RPD and Raccoon City felt more akin to the self-serving creep we see in the games. However, after his failed attempt to leave the city (which was tense and unexpected might I add) we start to see him co-operate more with his fellow squad mates which felt natural and interesting twist on the game lore. His death felt too sudden and felt more because the writers had no idea what else to do with character and so just killed him off. What was here was entertaining though.

The Birkin’s felt particularly off in this movie. Sherry and Annette felt kind of irrelevant and it made little sense for them to be in the lab whilst William was obtaining the G-virus sample. He himself felt spread far too thin across the movie, giving him multiple roles within a short time frame must’ve felt really confusing for the average movie-goer. One second, he’s the apparent head of this orphanage, the next he’s a research scientist, and then suddenly, he’s observing these weird twins in an old film? This is the one character that needed the most work, especially with his mannerisms and some of his dialogue. He came across as some generic mad scientist and I was really hoping for something more, a shame really when the game incarnation had way more going for him.

Lisa Trevor annoyed me to no end. Not only would her inclusion and overall appearance be puzzling to people not aware of the games, but so many questions are left unanswered, and it feels dumb. Why was she allowed to wander around the orphanage on multiple occasions whilst the Redfield’s were young? Are the Trevor’s still a thing, and did George Trevor build the Spencer Mansion? I guess we should just assume so, but it makes Lisa’s inclusion feel even more random. I will say that she’s effective as a horror movie monster, but I wouldn’t put too much thought into her inclusion as she doesn’t really feel like her video game counterpart at all.

Ben Bertolucci had a bit of a redesign in this adaptation, and I’m not just talking in terms of looks. It isn’t quite apparent, but it seems to be that he either worked for Umbrella at one point or is far more familiar with their activities than he is in the game. He acts as the main plot exposition for a lot of that side of the story, which is thankful seeing as I reckon people would’ve been left even more confused as to what was going down in this story and why this was happening to this quiet little town. Overall, a serviceable character who plays his part and allows the story to flow a little more smoothly.

Richard and Brad felt like side characters in this story, which I guess they always were, but it really says something when I didn’t know who Richard was meant to be until I noticed he was wearing orange. I get the fact that this film had a limited runtime, but just a few more scenes in the earlier stages would’ve made their later scenes more impactful, especially once they meet their untimely demise.

Ada Wong’s inclusion during the post-credits sequence felt odd too. I mean she looks the part in her outfit and everything, but why did she save Wesker? And who exactly is she working for? It feels like heavy sequel bait to me (which I’m all for) but I am left puzzled as to what this means for the way the story is told going forwards, especially once we reach RE4.

Review

Overall, I enjoyed this film, and in my opinion it’s far from the shitshow that some fans I’ve seen have made it out to be. I’ve gone over some of the parts I like and dislike already in the character overview, but one of the things I liked most was the films ability to take ideas, concepts and story beats from the games and remix them in a way that meant whilst the story felt intimately familiar at first, the changes set everything on edge in a way that felt pretty smart and kept me guessing right until the end, which I particularly enjoyed. I know many wanted a 1:1 adaption of the games, but that would’ve bored me to the point that I would’ve just wanted to play the games instead. I know this isn’t to everyone’s taste, and in a way, I can see why people thought the characters and story were “butchered”, but I was pleasantly surprised by the way it was able to combine and link together events from the first two games in a way which suited the film narrative. Its greatest strength becomes its ultimate weakness in this regard, as it feels as though the movie wasn’t given the runtime nor the budget to make everything work to the greatest degree. I have a feeling that the suits behind the creation of this project had little faith in the fact that it would get anywhere, and so gave the director the smallest budget possible to make everything work. “Work” is a key word here, as whilst the set design was top notch (the mansion and RPD look fabulous and true to the games, it felt like something I wanted to explore myself), the special effects budget seemed to suffer as a result meaning we ended up with some less than perfect monsters. Don’t get me wrong, the zombies were amazing in this, especially with the practical effects showing their deterioration from human to a shambling corpse (something which the games have never shown). It’s the zombie dogs and the G-Birkin forms which suffer the most, which make the film seem cheap. I’m not sure if this a by-product of this problem, but there’s some odd zooming in the shots in some scenes which feels cheap and unnatural, I’m not sure what else they could’ve done here but something felt off whilst I was watching. Touching on the runtime, I feel like this film was far too short to sell any of its ideas to the audience. At times it genuinely felt as though they tried to scrape as much unnecessary content out of the film to the point where things feel incredibly rushed, and scenes feel far too abrupt. This is especially noticeable towards the end of the film where it just skips through a bunch of the G-Birkin forms before killing him off suddenly, which must’ve been so jarring for a newcomer. The mansion was also underutilised, and many places felt unexplored, but I guess the budget could only reach so far. I also felt left wanting more by the time the credits rolled, which in a way is good but with so much content from the games missing it really does feel like a rushed job more than anything. The film also relies on the same type of “humour” to break up the horror, that being a more light-hearted pop song from the 90s era to break up the overall horror atmosphere of the movie. This comes across as silly at times, the flaming zombie in the RPD and the events leading up to it spring to mind, and I wish the film took itself a little more seriously when it came to things such as this (I would’ve removed or reworked them entirely). You may have noticed by now my continual pointers to people approaching this film with fresh eyes, and it was something I was thinking about throughout. Whilst there’s something here for the fans and references to the games galore, I can only imagine that people who are new to this all felt really put off by the way the film expects you to just know certain things. It works as a horror movie on its own, and the audience in the theatre I was in reacted to the funny and scary moments in the ways they should, but I would not highly recommend it to anyone who isn’t already familiar with the first two games at least. If you are familiar with them, I would recommend

going into it with the notion that things will be similar but different in many ways. This is the mindset I had going in and I feel like I was less disappointed as a result, as those who had the most issues with the film tend to be the ones who wanted an exact replica of the games onto the big screen.

Final Verdict

Overall, I would give this film a solid 7.5/10. This may seem a little low, and it is for a big fan of the game series like me, but most of my complaints are with the production rather than the content of the film. Sure, it slips up here and there, but the overall story feels intact and was definitely written by someone who is very familiar with the source material. If only then did the film have the funding and time in needed for these ideas to grow, I hope this will do good enough at the box office to warrant a sequel (which is clearly hoped for by the director at least) as maybe then the studio will come to realise the demand for this type of movie as well as what people want from it. Overall, Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City is an entertaining horror film that, although abandoning some of its average movie-going audience in favour of half-written plot threads and an abundance of game references, manages to stand on its own two feet and will hopefully spawn off many sequels in this new rebooted universe.

I'd love to know your thoughts as well, feel free to add a comment or send me an ask if you agree or disagree with anything I've written here, thanks for reading!

[pathogenliliaceae]

Thoughts on Jill Valentine

Hello, friends! My responsibilities for my trading company job have abated in the interim, so I thought perhaps I would come back around to Jill, as promised. 

Thoughts on Jill Valentine:

I will begin this by saying that it is appropriate that she was asked alongside Mia because there is one outstanding issue that I have between the both of them: The need to be saved. Though I find Jill to be leagues more competent.

We’ll get to it in full a bit later. 

I will make no secrets that Jill has never been my most favourite of protagonists. Most of those issues stem from “3: Nemesis” and Five, though I am not adverse to including bits from One and Revelations. In one word, Jill is tolerable. Though, if given a choice (depending upon who my choices are) I will usually pick someone else.

A bit of background on Miss Valentine: I am utterly convinced that Capcom has changed her birthdate. I remember quite vividly scoffing that they made her birthdate Valentine’s Day, but now that I look it up again it seems its in May. Well, that’s at least a half a point in her favour. It’s become less mind-numbingly stupid. She is French-Japanese-American, whose father was a professional thief. In addition, she received Delta Force training through the US Army. Unusually adept at lock-picking, she then (apparently) gains the moniker - the Master of Unlocking. She also, again apparently, is adept at bomb disposal, though I cannot remember an instance in which this is exhibited. Though I can remember many instances when this would have come in handy. Jill. 

Post-Delta Force and US Army tenancy, Wesker recruited Jill for STARS - described as an elite special forces operation for the RPD comprised of military veterans and weapons specialists (put a leaf in this for when I eventually get to Rebecca Chambers). Joining her in STARS are Forest, who she already had a friendship with prior to working together, and Chris. She is the only female officer on STARS Alpha Team, and works as a Breaking and Entering specialist. Forward onto the Mansion Incident.

Again, I’ve mentioned that if given a choice, I will usually not pick Jill to play as. However, that is not to say that I have not played Jill’s scenario in One. My primary complaint about Jill’s Scenario is as follows: It is fundamentally easier than Chris’. She’s got the lockpick set, so she doesn’t need to find Old Keys. She has more inventory space. In the space where she finds the zombie in the bathtub, she stomps his head mid-cutscene and does not have to fight him. She starts with the handgun and receives higher powered weapons whilst Chris has a higher chance of critical headshots. She can mix chemicals to weaken Plant 42 and cut the boss fight in half. Jill can skip certain puzzles in Arklay with Barry’s help, one under the guise of “saving” her from the falling ceiling where you retrieve the shotgun. No need to find the broken shotgun, and you have access to the shotgun as soon as you unlock the area which makes accessing the Armour Key much easier. I used to believe that this was a reflection of the character, but now I believe it is a bit of thinly veiled misogyny on Capcom’s part. ): 

About the opening to her scenario, after running amok in the forest and into the mansion - “There are only three STARS members left now. Captain Wesker, Barry, and myself. We don’t know where Chris is.” YOU’VE JUST HAD HIM AT THE DOOR! HOW HAVE YOU LOST HIM? Also, check your maths, Jill. That’s four STARS members. We have one negative point here in that she’s managed to lose her partner in the amount of time it takes to cross a threshold. Anyhow, like how it is when you play as Chris, the other is locked in the cell in the labs and must be released with the MO discs prior to the T-002 battle. Canonically, Jill escapes with Chris and Barry. Chris escapes with Jill and Rebecca. Rebecca does not make an appearance in Jill’s game, nor Barry in Chris’. Brad is there in the background, flying the helicopter he had damned them with at the beginning. It’s a bit of a flub.

Moving on to 3: Nemesis and the Remake and whatever happens in between the events of Arklay and the destruction of Raccoon City. Gathering from memos in Two and Three, shortly after the Arklay Incident, Chris and Jill take their concerns to Chief Irons, requesting the launch of an investigation into Umbrella and all the related shenanigans. Irons, being involved and heavily steeped in wrongdoing, denies this request. STARS all but disbands, as Chris leaves for Europe in August 1998, Barry moves his family to Canada and follows after Chris, Rebecca is doing fuck-all, and Irons has suspended Jill and ordered her confined to her flat. That leaves... Brad Vickers as STARS. The only member. In office. Everyone else is dead, suspended, or AWOL. I suppose one way to operate as a corrupt organisation is to keep the most inept person as your only functioning operative. I digress, this is about Jill and not the bucket of maladroitness that is Brian Irons.

Jill remains in Raccoon City under the pretense of attempting to locate NEST, with the intention of following behind Chris, Barry, and Rebecca(?) a bit later. I believe also she was intending to sort through the rumours of the development of Golgotha, but I cannot find accurate citation of that. Things that she manages to do whilst confined to her flat for a month behind the departure of the other STARS members: Not that at all. I have long wondered what it was that was actually keeping Jill in her flat, aside from orders from her no-longer boss, when she had intentions of leaving on 30 September. I don’t imagine that with what remains of STARS poking around, save for Brad, that Irons would put a definite date on the lifting of her suspension. “Yes, now you may leave to bring down the organisation that I am tangentially working for”. The Three Remake expands on this a bit, as it seems that perhaps Jill was not emotionally nor mentally suited for travel outside of the flat. In which case, I question whether steeping herself in all things Umbrella was perhaps exacerbating her condition. I do believe that there is a fundamentally large difference between Three: Remake Jill and 3: Nemesis Jill. First off, trousers. Enough said. I don’t do my personal investigations sitting in a pleather mini-skirt and a tube top with a rather practical jumper tied around my waist, and neither should you. I much rather imagine a suspension to be carried out in pyjamas, but again I am not the type of person to dress at home if I’m not needed to.

Secondly, Three: Remake Jill holds up much better against Nemesis without the help of Carlos (who is also rather incompetent and sexist), than her original counterpart. Her reactions to goings on are much more believable, and for much of the game she has absolutely no issue putting Carlos within appropriate boundaries. He tries to explain to her what a radio is, she snaps at him. He touches her, she tells him not to. You are a stranger, sir, please observe courtesy. Not to mention, a stranger who is working for the organisation we’ve just found out is responsible for the development of bioweapons and viral agents. At least bother to ask her name, first. A bit of a hint, Carlos: It isn’t “supercop”. If we are to continue on with this Jill further on in the series, I will support it. I would quite enjoy a long-standing female protagonist that has no issue scoffing at male protagonist foolishness and scolding their perspectives. Perhaps it is a good thing that she and Leon have never met in any official capacity.

Three: Remake Jill still falls prey to damsel-syndrome, as I’ll call it, upon being infected by Nemesis. Carlos comes in as the knight in shining armour, having become infatuated with her after knowing her for exactly four hours. I like to imagine that this New Jill could wake up from her comatose state, shout about her autonomy, and then go back to sleep. This is however, remedied by some sort of favour-trading as she does save Carlos in a quid-pro-quo a bit later. I do have concerns about how far Jill allowed Nikolai to get without shooting him down, but that’s unimportant in the long run. There is also a bit of inconsistency between games in how Jill and Carlos escape Raccoon City and what happened just prior, but those are unimportant to our examining of Jill.

All in all, New Jill is portrayed as a competent individual, which I think serves much better to support her character in instances such as the Fall of Umbrella chapter in The Umbrella Chronicles, which leads into the formation of the BSAA and her involvement with them.

Functionally, from 2003 until at least 2009, Chris and Jill mostly function as a singular unit. 2005- they work together to subdue T-ALOS. 2004- The Queen Zenobia, Queen Semiramis fiasco in which Jill carries Parker through a sinking ship as Chris slams doors in her face- as loving partners do. (I do want to mention in an aside that so many people find themselves in trouble whilst looking for Chris. It is the plot of NO FEWER than four games. One, Two, Code: Veronica, and Revelations. Maybe even a bit of Six. Call it four and a half). Revelations does delve into a bit of why I find Jill to be competent amongst the ranks of highly amateur BSAA agents. First off, she reads the manuals for things. She realises the importance of memos! Secondly, she is shown deducing and explaining quite a bit about the situation they find themselves in to Parker, who is often none-the-wiser. An argument could be made that Parker is a newly ported FBC emigre and therefore does not yet have the same expectation but I disagree having seen the... eptitude of other agents. She is rather instrumental in uncovering the whole FBC - Veltro - BSAA mess and quite honestly tends to hold her own in that installment. If only the dodge function worked better. Anyhow, back to her partnership with Chris- it canonically ends with the Lost in Nightmares campaign in Five. In which she quite literally bowls Wesker out of a window in defense of Chris and (sort of) the world. If there is any secret method of getting me to enjoy a character, it is self-sacrifice for the sake of another. There is something so beautiful about it. Except Ethan, nothing can redeem him. Jill functions best as a character when she is partnered with Chris. I cannot say that in any of these scenarios I have profound issues with her. Forward onto the events of Five and about where we will end this tangent.

Jill and Wesker, obviously, both survive the fall from the Spencer estate. Jill is kept for experimentation due to the existing muted strain of T in her body from the events of Three. The antibodies she possessed were used by Wesker in attempts to make Uroboros more accepting of human host bodies. During the time that she was “in his care” (poor choice of words, I know), he repeatedly injected her with Progenitor strains and took the resulting antibodies. As a result of the testing and antibody removal, Jill’s hair, skin, and eyes lightened in cryostasis (I am still trying to make sense of this bit). Once she had reached the extent of her usefulness, Wesker volunteered her for the P30 project, a Las Plagas extension that utilised chemical compounds for mind control. However, due to the high expulsion rate, the chemical had to be constantly injected, explaining the injector attached to her body.

This requires her, again, rescue at the hands of Chris and Sheva. Once the injector is removed, the other two move on after Wesker, and Jill promptly collapses into unconsciousness. She is found by BSAA Delta Team Captain Josh Stone, who escorts her to a helicopter and initiates a rendezvous with Chris and Sheva on the volcano.  I will stand up for Jill on this one- I do not at all believe that if Jill was on the helicopter, that Sheva should have been the one to wield the rocket launcher. That honour should have belonged to the two original STARS Alpha Team members alone. It’s simply poetic, and I am sorry for Sheva, but it would have been much more perfect. 

Currently, we’ve not seen anything from Jill since Five. The only mention to her current condition is that she is at the BSAA undergoing testing and rehabilitation for her time spent with Wesker. In her words: “...ever since getting back I've been locked up in this lab as they run tests on me day in and day out. It's every bit as boring as it sounds”. We leave Jill’s chronology with her being bored. Fitting. In short, I believe that Jill has quite a bit of potential in her competency, and I am actually quite interested to see what her reaction would be to the BSAA using bioweapons. We’ve not heard from her in twelve years, so one can only assume that she is still alive somewhere, being bored. If they are going to take her character in the same direction they appear to be going in the Three: Remake, I would not at all be adverse to seeing her again in a future standalone installment.  That being said, I have quite the backlog of characters to talk about! Please give me the benefit of the doubt when waiting on these. I’ve got work to do, tea to drink, games to play, and characters to analyse.

[nimmy22]

A Mistake: Chapter 5

"Our encounters will only end once I say so. Now, answer this. Why were you limping?" Wesker watched through his shades as she flinched when his hand came to rest on her injured leg. He found this development displeasing. Someone trespassed on his right to be the only one to hurt her, to use her, to kill her. And correction was in order.

"What's it to you?" Cara hissed, slapping his hand away.

"Wrong answer dearheart, let's try again." His hand found her leg once more, and this time he gave a not-so-gentle squeeze. He flashed his pearly whites with a smirk, watching her grimace and suck a sharp breath. "Why were you limping?"

"I fell... down some s-stairs and hurt my...leg," she cried, looking away from him.

Wanting things over quickly, she hoped he would lose interest and leave her be. Why would he even care if someone laid a hand on her? Especially when he was still wavering between hot and cold on whether to kill her or not. If someone killed her, then Wesker should consider it a time well saved. She was beyond confused by this.

"Fell? Are you sure?" Wesker frowned, removing his shades. Cara had no idea why he even wore them while presenting...indoors. They seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face, but at least he took them off in the rain. She mentally kicked herself for spending a second analyzing the fashion sense of a corrupt officer. It will certainly not prolong her life.

Wesker suddenly drifted closer to her face with scrutinizing eyes. "I suppose you also hit your head in the fall?" He said before putting pressure over the bruise on her head. The more she struggled to turn her head, the harder he applied the pressure. She cursed her cheap foundation for having melted off within so little time, likely exposing her bruise. The humid weather wasn't helping her situation either, aiding the cream to melt off her skin.

"Stop it! It hurts. Please, I answered your question. what do you want now?"

Not many dared to bluntly lie to Wesker, and those who did were now entertaining earthly maggots as a free buffet. The little girl lied to him without shame, leaving him with the urge to loosen his collar as his blood began to simmer. He had to restrain himself, not wanting to smash.... his shades.

"Do you take me for a fool? You forget you're still dealing with a cop, and I can certainly tell the difference between physical violence and injuries from a fall. I've dealt with countless domestic violence and child abuse cases. Now, answer the question before I rip off those pants to confirm." Wesker growled, punching the garbage bin centimeters from her head. She squeaked like a mouse, shielding her head with her arms, folding into a fetal position. Peeking through her fingers, Cara spotted the dent he left in the metal and audibly swallowed. He could crush her skull if he wanted to and why he has yet to do so is beyond her.

"Ok fine! It was...my...dad, h-he...hit me. Happy now? But whose parents don't bring out the belt every now and then? It's not that big of a deal." Cara slanted her body away from him and fidgeted with her sleeve. Until this point, she had never admitted to anyone what went on at home behind closed doors. Not even her closest friend knew a thing. But she was forced to disclose one of her deepest secrets to this bastard just because he asked her nicely.

"I see." Wesker stood up, pondering something for a moment before walking back towards the school doors. Pausing by the door, he spoke without looking at her. "Clean yourself up and go back to the assembly. Then after that, I want you to walk across the street to the laundromat's parking lot. You will wait there for me."

"Why?" Cara swallowed, a cold feeling creeping over her like a heavy blanket. Wesker didn't answer, as he was already gone, and she was met with the sound of doors slamming shut. With a sigh, she wiped her tear-streaked cheeks with her clammy hands.

Raising to her wobbly feet, Cara straightened out her clothes, doing her best to clear the dust. There was no way to reduce the puffy eyes. She decided to play it off as being devastated for the poor boy who ended up an overcooked steak.

She was definitely in over her head, but without a choice, she was forced to do what he wanted. He already knew pretty much everything about her, her home, school, and family issues.

--------------

"You sure you don't want a ride home?" Claire said, hugging her friend tightly and being a major cause for much discomfort. She somehow managed to touch all Cara's painful bruises all at once, completely unaware. The two stood in the school parking lot, finished with school for the day.

"I'm fine, Claire, really. I just had a weak moment. Don't worry about me. I just need to have a little walk with some thinking time."

"I can come with,"

"No!" Cara jerked back before realizing what she did. Claire blinked, staring at her friend with her mouth open. "Oh shit, sorry. I mean...I want to...be alone for a while. You should go annoy your brother at work. He'll appreciate that."

"Are you ok? You're acting weird, not just today but this whole week. What's going on?" Cara felt more beads of sweat forming on her forehead with each question Claire asked. She needed to get away before she said something she shouldn't have.

"I'm fine, I swear. You're just reading too much into things." Cara said, backing away from her friend.

"Cara!" Claire called out, watching Cara hurry across the street. "What the heck is going on," she wondered aloud.

Claire was about to follow her when a hand roughly grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, ready to snap the fingers of the fool who dared grab her in such a manner.

"Miss Redfield, great seeing you." Wesker greeted her, his grip on her shoulder unmoving. Her eyes widened as she recognized the fool being her brother's boss.

"Oh...Captain Wesker. Um...Great presentation." Claire said, trying to shrug out of his hold. He let go, but very slowly. She didn't know why he was interacting with her this long. The most she ever got from Wesker was a nod or asking where Chris went after abandoning his desk for half an hour when he should've been doing paperwork. The answer was tacos she made herself and brought to the station for Chris.

"Thank you. I'm just hoping at least a few students will hold onto my words." Wesker responded, discreetly watching through his shades as Cara disappear from view. He simply couldn't have a foolish Redfield ruining his plans. "So where are you headed off to?"

"Uh... I was just about to head home," she said, pointing her thumb over to her motorcycle.

"Drive home safely. Wouldn't want your brother distracted on the job now, would we?" They both knew Chris would get distracted regardless, but she didn't like his tone when talking about her brother.

"No, of course not," Claire gave him a sweet smile, flapping him the bird behind her back. "Have a nice day, Captain Wesker."

"You as well, Miss Redfield." Wesker walked away, heading across the parking lot to his cruiser before driving off.

With a long sigh, Claire looked back to the direction her friend had run off to, but she was already long gone. Claire groaned, promising herself that she was not about to let this go. She owed Cara to be a good friend and help her sort out whatever she was going through. The next time she saw Cara, they were going to have a very good talk.

-----------------

Cara stood in the parking lot of the laundromat, fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket. The little piece of metal was already bent in two places from her abuse. She was alone, the place had closed down months ago, its owner was an elderly lady who passed away. She had no children to inherit it, and so the place had to shut its doors. It would make sense why Wesker would want to pick her up here. Students had no reason to crowd this property, having a plaza on the other side of the road abundant in fast-food joints and an arcade.

The temperature hadn't changed drastically since the morning. Yet, she found herself shivering in her jacket and hugging it closer to her body. Her eyes kept darting about, dreading the imminent interaction. She hated the waiting, but she didn't want to find out what he had in store for her.

Wesker drove into the parking lot, eyes zeroed in on the pitiful creature shivering alone and looking misplaced. Good thing he was here to 'help her out.' He thoroughly enjoyed how she nearly bolted upon spotting the car. He stopped next to her and waited.

Cara waited for him to emerge from the car or to roll down a window to tell her what he wanted. He did neither of those things, and so she shut her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath and reaching for the door handle of the passenger seat. Still saying nothing, she slid into the seat before shutting the door as hard as she could. Between them, the air freshener swung back and forth with greater momentum charged by the thick atmosphere.

"So nice of you to find the time for me, dearheart. I am flattered."

"Of course, With whom else could I see myself spending time?" she didn't bother asking where they were headed, knowing how far questions seemed to set her back with him.

They pulled up to a simplistic two-story home, its lawn cleanly kempt but lacking any other colorful vegetation. She couldn't help but think it was the end of the road for her when the garage door sealed shut behind them.

Leaving the car, he walked into the house, depositing his keys on a bowl by the door. Cara followed close behind but far enough to dodge an attack, or so she hoped. Walking by the deposited keys, her fingers itched to grab them, make a run for it, but her brain didn't feel like making the deadly mistake so soon into the day or... week. Biting her bottom lip, she followed him into the living room.

Like the outside of the house, the inside lacked color, instead opting for white and shades grey. All in all, it looked like the kind of place that will get very messy if someone were to get murdered in it. But that didn't put her at ease. She still had no idea what he wanted.

Cara's fingers were inches from touching a plain white vase when Wesker finally spoke. "Welcome to my home."

She snatched her hand back so fast, her shoulder almost popped out of its socket. She opened her mouth several times, but nothing came out.

"You...live here?" Finally, she managed to form a few words.

"I do not like repeating myself, but yes, I live here. Stay here. I will be back." Wesker left Cara in the living room, making his way upstairs. Passing several doors, he came across one that streamed a golden light from beneath. Knocking three times, pausing, and then twice more, he waited for the response. He smiled, hearing the sound of four subsequent knocks and a scratching sound. This was their code, a living memory of his army days.

The door opened and smiling up at him was Sherry. He accepted her into his open arms before picking her up. "Your back, uncle Albert."

"Yes, and I brought you a really nice present."

"What is it! ...a puppy?"

"No, try again."

"Is it a dinosaur? A game? A dress? A book? Is it edible?" Sherry filled her bubble with guesses, eyes twinkling. She rubbed her hands together as if the friction could make the surprise appear faster. She had been alone all day and bored out of her mind.

Wesker shook his head at her simple thinking but enjoyed her expressions.

Walking into the living room, Wesker felt Sherry's gasp shake her whole body. "Cara!" the little girl squeaked before jumping out of the older man's grasp. She raced to her babysitter, unable to believe her eyes.

Cara's expression transformed from a scowl to a tender smile upon noticing Sherry, eyes brimming with tears.

The little girl snuggled against Cara, relishing the comforting scent of her friend. Truly, she thought she was in heaven. "Thank you, Uncle Albert! This the greatest surprise ever!" Sherry beamed at her uncle, half her face smushed against Cara's chest.

"And it gets even better. Cara agreed to come play with us every day right after school." Wesker burst Cara's bubble with a rusted pin, killing all hope of escape.

Cara's smile immediately fell. She shot daggers at the older man who merely took a seat on the couch, legs spread wide apart as he rested his arms over the back of the couch.

"Really? I can't believe it! I am so happy. We can do so many things, Cara, not just on Friday nights."

"Y-you can't-" Cara stuttered, struggling against herself to end the happiness of a little girl. To Cara, disappointing Sherry was a terrifying thing, especially if she the very cause of it.

"Why don't you take her to play in your room?" Sherry was already leading Cara before the dirty cop finished his sentence.

"Wait, Sherry. You go on up, and I will um...come to play in a few minutes. I just need to talk to...Uncle Albert for a sec." Cara spat his name.

"Ok!" Sherry said, bouncing on her feet, and ran upstairs. Once the little girl's giggles grew distant, she turned to Wesker who was already watching her with the eyes of a lazy predator. His shades sat in front of him on the coffee table, neatly folded.

Cara couldn't help the tingling shiver as he watched her. She gathered her courage and stood up straight, forcing her nerves down before speaking, "What if I don't want to continue the job?"

Wesker laughed at the ridiculous proposal.

"And break the poor girl's heart? She has consistently asked for you every day, more so than for her own parents. Where is Cara? Is she ok? Can I visit her?"

"Stop using her against me! I don't want to get involved more than I already have with you."

"Sherry experienced horrible things that night, all because of who her parents are. So, if she wants her delicious babysitter back, then she will have her back. Simple." Wesker knew which buttons to press to get her to do exactly what he wanted. The fear factor wasn't everything, and it wouldn't last long. He knew she loved his niece like a little sister, and he will use that to secure a tight collar over her neck.

'A delicious babysitter.' For some reason, these words stood out to Cara, and she found herself unable to formulate a coherent sentence, feeling the temperature of the room rise rapidly.

"But why does it have to be here? In your house?"

"As much as I support my dear friend William, he can be a little too preoccupied with his work and often becomes disengaged from the outside world. He forgot to call anyone to fix the damages, and so the house has yet to be repaired. Until it's ready, Sherry will stay here, that is unless she chooses to stay indefinitely, which I don't mind at all. It's always too quiet around here."

Seeing no way out of this, Cara begrudgingly walked upstairs, defeat weighing down her steps. Her mood brightened a little while playing with Sherry, but she couldn't put her whole heart into it. Her choice was taken away, and she couldn't live with that. But in the end, she had to be grateful as this was still better than being murdered and stuffed into a dumpster or buried alive.

For now, she will do her best to make Sherry happy. The little girl has been through a lot already.

----------------

Hours later, Cara stood in front of the sink, swirling the cool water in her glass before gulping it down. She was halfway through the water when she felt something warm, soft, and feather-like touch the back of her neck. She spun around to see Wesker walking away, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. She barely registered the icy water spilling on her clothes as she realized what happened. Her stomach weaved knots, pulling them too tight to undo.

Wesker had kissed her neck. And then he just walked away as if nothing happened. This had to be the strangest trick her mind could play on her. Or was it? There was simply no way a man like him will ever be interested in her. Never.

It felt like a terrible joke, and yet, she found her hand touching her neck, a rosy blush making its way.

[just-general-stuff]

Back To Where We Started

So this is it huh? He knew it was bound to happen regardless.

Red painted the white blanket that he laid upon as pain flared from his side. Yet, he didn’t take heed of it. Merely, he gave a sigh of resignation as he felt his body grow colder with each passing second. It wasn’t a question if he would die in the fight against bio-terrorism. It was only a matter of when.

He could have retired, could have just settled down and lived to a ripe old age. Perhaps, he could have watched his dear sister get married and watch her start her own family.

But he didn’t retire. Instead, he chose to honor Piers by continuing to fight in the war against bio-terrorism. But no matter how hard he fought, the war only grew worse. No matter how many bioterrorist organizations he would destroy, many more would rise from its ashes.

But what was worse was that the governments around the world, the very same governments whom swore to work alongside the B.S.A.A. to help them stop all bio-terrorism, would help the very same organizations that threaten to destroy the world.

So long as it benefited them, they could care less. And then when the dealings would come to light, they would pretend and say they have no idea of such dealings.

The same old story told time again and again.

And then Claire died. Killed during an outbreak that occurred in the city she was visiting for a holiday.

She had always come out of those outbreaks alive. She had survived Raccoon City for crying out loud. But he had forgotten that she was only human.

And humans bleed and they die.

In the end, everyone that he loved had all died and left him.

In time, he started to realize that his former Captain was right.

The world was rotten to the core. There was living proof. Those folks he worked with, those whom would smile and promise aid, those were their masks. At the end of the day, they would choose to destroy themselves rather than stop this madness. They would willingly let themselves fall over the cliff all for a small measure of victory against their foes not caring of the consequences of their actions.

The dwindling hope he had was completely extinguished until all that was left of him was a hollow shell of the man that he once was. A jaded man whom hated this very world. But even as he hated the world, he still chose to fight. He didn’t know what else he could do now. He had spent decades of his life in a war that he barely knew what he could do if he chose to stop fighting.

So he left the B.S.A.A to join Blue Umbrella. His reason? Throw himself into the war deeper and make sure to wipe out every single one of them without a damn care of his own life.

Jill had tried to persuade him to stop this crazy mission but he remained adamant on his decision. He even cut all ties he had with Jill, Barry and the B.S.A.A. He didn’t need loose ends in his new life.

He fell deeper and deeper into the darkness where the lines were blurred and where everything was no longer black and white.

He had shot Mia because she was infected. Harsh but it was the only way to stop further infection and spreading of the damn virus even though it broke Ethan.

He didn’t blame the man for shooting him. Hell, he would have shot anyone whom had hurt his sister.

So now here he was. Sprawled on the cold snow inches away from death.

The crack of ice and snow suddenly got his attention and he slowly turned his head to see a person in familiar black clothing walking towards him. The stranger continued to approach him stopping only a few inches away from his side.

“Who…?”

Blinking, his vision slightly clears and much to the brunette’s shock, there looking down at him was Albert Wesker.

“You’re… You’re dead.” Was the Albert Wesker he was seeing right now simply a hallucination that his slowly oxygen-deprived brain cooked up?

“How astute of you to notice that, Chris. But you’ll soon die as well. Mr. Winters got a pretty good hit on you.” The man spoke with a calm tone not once betraying his underlying emotions.

Why does this man, his former Captain, and the one whom he fell for years ago still haunt him? Why couldn’t he just disappear and leave him be? He would have preferred seeing Claire or Piers again.

He probably figured that Wesker was here to gloat of his victory as he bled out in the snow.

“You’ve come to gloat then? Laugh it up then Wesker! Shout out your triumph over me dying at your feet!” Chris yells out, making him cough harshly coating his lips with spatters of blood.

Lowering down onto his haunches, Wesker takes his shades off. Instead of the blazing red eyes that continue to haunt him in his nightmares, Chris was met with the cool blue that he had always found endearing much to his utter shock.

“No. I’m not here to gloat.” The blonde spoke softly.  

This confused Chris. “Then… Then why are you here?”

“I figured that you don’t deserve to die alone out here Chris. Not after all that you’ve done. I may hate you for stopping my plans but even I never wished of you falling deeper into the darkness that I was in when I was still alive. And… I hated watching you spiral out of control more and more.”

“I was supposed to be the one that people fear in the dark. The monster that people would speak of in whispers. You were the hero that everyone looks up to. You’re the one that was supposed to save the goddamn world not let it pull you into its depravity.” Wesker grits out.

“I knew deep down it was only a matter of time before you see the truth. That the world truly is rotten to the core. But did I take pleasure in it? No. No I did not.” The blonde says, reaching a hand out and grasping Chris’s hand tight.

Much to the brunette’s shock, Wesker’s hand was warm. He hadn’t realized how much missed Wesker’s touch but now feeling his hand around his, it brought all the old deep feelings he had for the man to the forefront. Even as the years passed and he still hated the man for what he did, a part of him still loved and missed his former Captain.

Call him an idiot but he wasn’t a liar. Even if he tried to deny it vehemently to himself at first.

“I… I was a fucking fool. I should have known.” Chris whispers.

“Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t know how depraved the world could truly be as much as I do. After all, I grew up in it. I was raised by such depraved people.”

“So now what? I’m going to die, Wesker.”

“…I guess we go back to the beginning.”

“…Back before this whole shitshow?”

“Yes. Perhaps in the afterlife we could have that chance. Or if we are reborn, I would not know. I am a man of science not faith.”

“You believe in such things?” Chris asks, astonished that Wesker would speak of such things. Wesker never struck him as a man who believed in an afterlife let alone reincarnation.

“If this encounter is anything but possible, perhaps it has changed my beliefs slightly.” Wesker says with a soft smile.

‘God, that smile. That damn smile.’ Chris thought as his throat tightened with emotion. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that smile that was only reserved for him back in S.T.A.R.S. until he saw it once more. “I would like that again, Wesker. I just… I just want to live a normal life for the both of us.”

Leaning in, Wesker plants a soft kiss on Chris’s forehead. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The pain by now was long gone and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He just wanted to close them and finally sleep. He was tired of fighting, tired of it all.  

“I’m so tired, Albert.” Chris murmurs tiredly.  

“Just sleep, Christopher. When you wake up, I’ll still be here. Just sleep.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

And with that Chris was able to relax and let Death claim him.

As he watches the brunette close his eyes and breathe out his last, Wesker gently tugs on Chris’s limp hand and from the cooling corpse emerged Christopher. But it wasn’t the haggard, jaded brunette that Wesker watched die before him. No, it was the young, hopeful man that Chris once was.

No longer was there pain in his eyes nor cold steeliness. No longer did darkness swirl in those brown orbs but instead his eyes twinkled with joy, hope and an innocence that once was lost.

“Back to where we started?” Chris asks returning Wesker’s smile with his own.

“Yes. Back to where we started.” He replies and the two head off, slowly disappearing into the snowy night together hand in hand.  

[eyesforjade]

Underestimate — Jill Valentine X Carlos Oliveira [Resident Evil 1 and 3]

Summary:

underestimate

verb

1.

direct transitive

not giving due esteem, value or appreciation to; not having a lot of consideration; disdain.

"s. someone's intelligence"

2.

direct transitive

miscalculate, for less.

"s. the demand for a given commodity"

OR

Five times a man underestimated Jill Valentine, and one time one didn't.

Author’s Note: Hey there, this was an idea I had while I was listening to “Boys Will Be Boys” from Dua Lipa. The result made me really happy, and was something I really liked writing, although, I’m very insecure about it, because, I translated to english, but english is not my mother language, hey, I’m Brazilian, just as Carlos in my future AU’s. Well, stay tunned for my other works, and I hope you guys really like this.

Word count: 3841 words.

 Warning: Maybe for my bad english, but besides this, there’s some points where the character’s lines are sexist, and there’s also scenes of shooting in the characters.

Also available on ao3

Δ

i. dick valentine

Jill vaguely remembers having a day with her father, even though he wasn't training her skills. She was a smart girl, and she knew very well what her father did for living, and even though she didn't think it was right, it was the only thing she had, knowing that her mother would never return to her life, especially because of her father.

Dick Valentine has always been very hard, he wanted his daughter to follow in his footsteps, because he knew how much capable she was. But all the pressure to learn drove Jill crazy, and often missed the things she did. At the time, Jill never understood, but now older, she understands that he underestimated her many times, so that she was better at what she did.

And that's why when he saw the opportunity for Jill to join the S.T.A.R.S., it was when he started getting heavier. Days and nights in the clear, a lot of pressure, Jill worked hard that year, got a lot of injuries in the process, but it was from that she managed to achieve more things, Jill learned to live and it was all thanks to him.

But she never denied that it was a heavy childhood. The training was intense, but it taught her things she never forgot, like that day in her teens, when Dick trained her on how to deftly break into a home. “Only fools accept the obvious and go no further; use your brain, Jilly”. That same day, they had a fight, and Jill will never forget her.

 — You can do it, Jilly. — He said that on average at least 30 times a day, and Jill was tired of hearing that, dropping the lockpick gear, she turns irritated to her father.

— If I can do it, why do you keep demeaning me?! — Jill always thinks about what she will say, and that day she was just tired.

— Because I want you to be better! — Hearing that from him, at that moment, was something that ended the training for him. He stood up, dropping her in front of the lock. — Better than me. — Jill spent the rest of the day trying to perfect her skills, she didn't want her father to have to talk to her like that. Never.

 Δ ii. brian irons

 It was another normal morning at R.P.D., everything was very calm. All corridors were with as little noise as possible, except for the whispers about the special ceremony that the S.T.A.R.S. were organizing. The captain of Alpha team, Albert Wesker was organizing a shooting competition between the two S.T.A.R.S. teams for training, and it was obvious that for incentives, he had a huge trophy for the winner, second and third place medals, and medals of participation for the other places.

As the event was entirely focused on S.T.A.R.S., they organized on their own, and participated, while the other policemen watched and cheered for whom they preferred. The event would take place outside, at the entrance to the west wing, there the two teams were divided and being led by their respective captains, Wesker and Marini. Enrico ordered his team to make sure that all weapons were good and ready for the competition, while Wesker, ordered his team to assemble the entire structure of the competition, and as a perfectionist, he wanted everything perfect.

When the lack of duct tape to stick the targets is over, Wesker sends Jill Valentine to get more. It was a simple task, which he had forgotten to do and he says to Jill, that he had left some boxes of tape on his desk in the office, she does not complain when she receives the task, she just turns to smile at Rebecca Chambers of Bravo, and go looking for it quickly. She was already close to the office, just another corridor, entering the door to her left, she immediately smelled the coffee that the office always carried.

With a smile on her face, Jill begins to approach the door to Wesker's small office, listening to the door she entered close. Albert was right when he said that the box of tapes would be on his desk, Valentine takes four tapes, thinking it was too much, but it was better to be left than missing, heading for the exit, when her hand holds the handle, she hears some voices outside, voices that were speaking about her, Jill grips the knob tightly, not turning it.

— Seriously, a little girl like her? — She soon recognizes the voice, Brian Irons, the chief of police, Jill takes a deep breath, being as quiet as possible, did not want them to know she was there. — Is that what you're rooting for?

— I think she has a lot of potential, Irons. — It's impossible not to recognize Marvin Branagh's voice, he almost never talks to her, but it was nice to know that he thought she had potential.

— If we were placing a bet, you would lose. — Jill is silent, trying to hold the hurt that burned in her chest. — She won't even come in third, I don't know why Albert admitted her to Alpha... — Valentine remains silent, hearing the voices fading due to the distance. She swallows hard, trying to get it out of her head, leaving the office as soon as possible, heading back to the west entrance.

 Jill could say that the shooting competition was one of the worst disasters of her life. She wasn't at all motivated after hearing Irons say that, and she blamed herself a lot for letting it take over during the competition. Be in line with the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. waiting to receive his participation medal, it was one of his worst nightmares.

He was in the middle of Barry and Joseph. Barry had stayed in fourth place, while Joseph secured himself in sixth, Jill knew that fifth place was a good position, but the words of that filthy man, circled her head, while she practically stared at the floor. She had seen Irons whisper among some policemen, making them laugh, and that discouraged her even more. Chris had won the trophy, and she couldn't be happier for it, but she also really wanted to get out of there.

That day, Jill learned her lesson. She would never let any man say anything bad about her, ever again. She left R.P.D. without speaking to anyone, whispering: "your happiness is worth more than winning a stupid competition".

 Δ iii. barry burton

 Walking around the mansion had a bizarre mix of feelings. Jill liked quiet places, and the empty mansion by itself was a perfect place for her, except that almost every corridor had a new surprise waiting for her, zombies, crows, and the insecurity of opening a door, and finding one more. STARS member dead.

Jill had a lot on her mind, and the new area of ​​the mansion made her unsure about things. She had just put a cylinder inside the machine that would make the underground elevator work, the four buttons lit a red light. Pushing the buttons, even in the most obvious order, hadn't worked, and Jill becomes impatient when she sees the cylinder come out again. Examining the cylinder, she can see that it had a sequence of numbers, but that the two parts did not meet.

Rotating the top, she discovers the sequence. “IV II III I”, with a smile on her face, Jill puts the cylinder back in the machine, pressing the buttons in the same sequence, glad it worked. The sound of the elevator, which was held by very visible chains, reaches the floor she was on, and she walks to him, analyzing the buttons on the panel, she hears the sound of the door she entered opening, and soon recognizes the voice that called her name.

 — Barry?! Thank god you're safe. — She leaves the elevator, approaching the older man.

— You too, Jill. — He starts looking everywhere, like every other time that Jill had found him. — A noise I heard brought me down here, but... — He enters the elevator, Valentine followed him, watching his movements. — I didn't expect to find a place like this. Have any idea as to what might be at the bottom? — Barry asks, while Jill continues to analyze the panel.

— There's only one way to find out. — She says confidently, pressing the button. It didn't take long for the elevator to reach the bottom, they weren't sure what was there, but they heard a strange noise. Barry pulls out his gun, looking around intently.

— What the hell is that sound? — Jill starts to analyze the place, the caves under the mansion were certainly huge, it would take a while to check all that. — It could be a person. — What Barry said next made Jill question Burton's character. — Jill, go check it out. We have had enough surprises for one day. I’ll stay here, and secure our escape route in case something happens. — Valentine was totally against the idea of ​​spliting up, she thought if they were together, maybe they could find Wesker and Redfield faster, but she also didn't complain when Barry sent her to check, she was part of the S.T.A.R.S., she didn't have to refuse to do something. It was her job.

 Entering a door near the elevator. Jill had to face a woman, or what was left of one, her body had become monstrous, and now she couldn't even distinguish the woman's monster anymore. Valentine couldn't help but be sad, everyone in the mansion was a person, and they were alive before that.

Facing her, Jill discovered it was her making the noises. Knowing this, she had to go back to Barry, and maybe, that would mean they could walk through the caves together. When she got back to where the elevator was, her heart sank, Barry went up with the elevator, leaving her right there. She was sad, angry, and that only motivated her to continue, and get out of there, why did Barry act strange?

The next time they meet, Barry looks surprised to see her. His look was one of despair, fear, he seemed much more nervous than the other times they met. Jill had been through many things since that meeting in the caves, had returned to the mansion, and placed the emblems at the back of the stairs. Seeing Barry again, made Jill unsure, about trusting him again.

When she found him, he was touching a stone structure, it looked like a coffin. He was holding his gun, and as she started approching, he turned to her, placing the gun behind his back, as if he was trying to hide it. He acted as if she hadn't seen it.

 — Jill! Are you alive! — Jill approaches him, in silence, watching his movements, Burton looked really nervous. — I was worried, because I thought you were ... — “Dead? After you left me there?” Jill thought, anger was all she felt, Barry had underestimated her.

With a quick movement, Barry points the gun at Jill. Reacting fast, Jill manages to execute a maneuver, disarming him, Barry was distracted, in other situations, he would never have let him be disarmed, Jill holds the gun, pointing at him, she was tired, and couldn’t believe he had aimed the weapon at her.

 — Start talking! — She says, her anger increased more, every time she thought about everything that was happening. And then, she decided, no matter what, she would come out of that nightmare alive.

 Δ iv. albert wesker

 The mansion incident was something that would forever be remembered in the memory of the five S.T.A.R.S. survivors. Being inside that office, which was once lively and cheerful, left them really agitated and insecure.

The mansion had been blown up. Probably to prevent them from having concrete evidence of Umbrella's guilt about all of this. They only had some evidence, files, that they had taken from the mansion. Much of it was brought in by Chris and Rebecca, who lead with the mansion's things together, Jill carried some she found during her time there, Barry, while having to side with Wesker, contributed some too.

But there is one that Jill will never forget to read. She took it from Albert's body, after Tyrant killed him, it was a pocket diary, which he was updating while they were trying to survive in the mansion. About Redfield, he said that Chris was already suspicious, and it would be a long time before he found out the truth. About Burton, he had written that he was the weakest link, because he had family, and he could use that against Barry. About Vickers, well, it was just him thanking the fact that he was a coward, because he didn't have to get his hands dirty to lure us to the mansion.

About anyone from Bravo, there wasn't much, just that he imagined they were already dead by then. But about Jill ... He had written that she was a skinny, good detective, and had already left R.P.D. suspicious of him, but for him, she would be an easy target, and it would be the first one he would kill if she got in his way.

Jill didn't want to count this as a victory. It was not the time, especially after so many casualties. But she had survived, and he hadn't, and it shows how much she wasn’t an easy target, Valentine was sure it wasn't done with Wesker, and she was going to take Umbrella down now.

 Δ v. nicholai ginovaef

 During the outbreak of the virus in the city, Jill obtained refuge and support from a man named Carlos Oliveira. It wasn't much, but it was a start, even though Valentine didn't know how far her confidence should go, since in less than 10 minutes, she found out that Oliveira was with Umbrella, or almost.

Umbrella had sent a platoon to save the survivors from the outbreak. Jill met the U.B.C.S. platoon captain, and even though she didn't want to trust them, she wanted to help civilians as much as they did. So, following Carlos' requests, Jill was on her way to the subway substation.

Going there, she passed a garage in a car repair shop. Where she found a man... A soldier, dressed in clothes similar to those of the U.B.C.S. injured, without thinking twice, Jill approaches him, who was propped up in the car. His injuries didn’t appear to have been made by zombies. Jill experienced zombie bites, and that one definitely wasn't one. The injuries were more like a melee attack from someone alive.

 — You’re U.B.C.S.? — She begins to analyze her injuries, while the man looks desperately at her.

— Yeah. C-careful, careful. — Jill gets lost in her thoughts, it definitely didn't seem like a bite, who could have done that to him? — Come on, don't look at me like that, alright? I'm not infected!

— Okay, let’s take care... — Suddenly, the soldier starts to say “no” quickly, and all Jill could do was see the gunshot directly through his head, leaving Valentine slightly scared. She gets up, looking at the bald-haired man, dressed in a U.B.C.S. uniform, looking at the body of the soldier he had killed. — What the fuck!

— He was infected. — His accent was strong, similar to Mikhail's, Jill looks at him in disbelief, unable to believe what the man had just done.

— He MIGHT have been infected! — The man laughs, turning his back on Valentine, it was surreal, Jill followed him with her eyes.

— Are all S.T.A.R.S. this soft? — He laughs, starting to walk, he walked fast, as if he wanted to get out of here fast, Jill takes his step following the same. — No wonder so many of you are dead.

— And what are you? — Jill confronts, the same stops walking, he had started up the stairs, and to look at her. — U.B.C.S.? Killing your own people? — He goes down a step, approaching Jill's face, as if he was trying to intimidate her, Valentine doesn't give in, she looks at the man with the same intensity, no man would intimidate her.

— He would have turned. — He smiles sideways, making fun of her, Jill feels her fists clench in a tight grip, he had no mercy, he seemed to follow his own rules, even if Commander Victor was in charge of the U.B.C.S. — Where's your sense of self-preservation? — He laughs dry, and goes back up the stairs. — Go back to the subway station. We don’t need a bleeding heart like you getting in the way.

 Jill is left alone again, she was sure that this would not be the last time she would meet him, but she realized that she would have to be careful around him, because she wouldn’t die in Raccoon City.

 Δ vi. carlos oliveira  

When Jill arrived at the helipad, she saw Carlos lying on the ground near the helicopter, she imagined the worst. She had stayed behind, to put an end to the tyrant who pursued her during her stay in Raccoon City, and asked Carlos to go after Nicholai and the vaccine, see Carlos' fallen body, made her think the worst.

She runs over to him, crouching down to try to feel a pulse in his neck. She soon hears footsteps approaching him, and she sees Nicholai, who kicks her, without being able to react quickly. She recovers quickly, trying to pull the gun, but she is soon disarmed by another kick from the man. He had the vaccine in hand, and a gun pointed at her.

 — You’re not going to stop me. — He shakes the vaccine in his hand. — Promised you this, didn't I? — He throws the vaccine at her side, and Jill tries to reach it, only to see it being shot by Nicholai.

— Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? — She looks at Nicholai, who had a sarcastic smile on his face.

— Don’t know. Don’t care. — He shrugs. — My client ordered me to reduce Umbrella to rubble. — When the robotic voice announces that the missile is only 10 minutes away from reaching the city, Valentine's heart is racing. Nicholai smiles, looking the same. — Ah, the missile has launched. And this is my cue to leave. — Jill was still on the ground, she hadn't gotten up, afraid the man would rush over and shoot, but she knew he would probably kill her now. — Goodbye, Miss Valentine. A shame you didn't listen to me when you had the chance.

 She feels safe when she sees that Carlos' body was no longer in the same place. She was happy, happy that he hadn't died, but afraid that he was fighting Nicholai now, trying to disarm him. Despite the shock, Jill turns her attention, and reaches for the weapon she had lost earlier. Aiming at Nicholai, who was now surrendered by Carlos, Jill takes a deep breath, looking at Carlos.

 — Jill! Shoot him! — Hearing Carlos say that, made Jill insecure, she knew she wouldn't be able to shoot Nicholai without hitting Carlos.

— I can’t! I'll hit you! — It was an idiotic moment for this, and Jill knew it, but at that time, she remembered Iron’s comment on the day of the competition, and how much it affected her, if she couldn't hit the targets there, how could she hit him without hitting Carlos?

— Shoot! You have to! There's no other way! — Jill tries to aim with all precision, her shaking hands didn't help at all. — I trust you. — That was more than an incentive for her to pull the trigger, hitting Nicholai in the chest, making him fall to the ground, and consequently, Carlos too.

— Carlos! — Jill approaches him, lowering, part of her worry leaves her, when she sees the smile on his face.

— Hey, I told you I couldn't leave you in a Carlos-less world. — Jill smiles at him, happy that he was alive. — That would just be too cruel. — Jill extends her arm, lifting Carlos. — What about him? — Carlos asks about Nicholai, getting into the helicopter to start him.

— Why’d you do it? — Jill asks next to Nicholai, the man smiles, holding his chest.

— There's a price tag for everything. Even letting the world burn. — Jill looks at him with disgust, tired of all this.

— Who are you working for? — She hears the helicopter engines, she knew Carlos was waiting for her.

— I'll tell you if you get me out of here. I'll pay you whatever you want. — Valentine smiles, looking at the helicopter, walking to it. — You’re a fool. You’re a fool! — Nicholai kept saying, looking at Jill close to the helicopter. — If I die, you’ll never find out the truth.

— I don't mind a little detective work. — She climbs into the helicopter, closing the door, sitting down, feeling the helicopter start to take off. Her gaze lands on Carlos, and she can't help but smile, she was finally where she wanted to be.

  Δ bonus  

B.S.A.A. organized a huge event, with all the team members, to honor some people. Jill hated this type of event, but it always came because Chris insisted that it was good to rest after all the B.S.A.A. missions, but she knew that she only came to make fun of people's behavior with Carlos.

Carlos and Jill stayed together after Raccoon City. They were together, dating, for a long time. Carlos loved it when Jill made a joke about these events, and to Jill it seemed kind of forced when he insisted that they come to that specific event. Jill knew she never won awards, they always came for the food and the joke, and sometimes, they would come to Carlos receive his awards.

Redfield had contacted Carlos, convincing him to bring Jill. The reason was simple, the only honorees of the night were the former members of S.T.A.R.S. for all the service they did and still do, Oliveira was happy to bring Jill, he loved seeing her smile with the jokes they made, and she looked beautiful in those chic dresses.

Jill always accompanied him when he received awards, and he was more than happy to be able to accompany her on this one. He knew he would be up front, seeing her on stage, and applauding her, Jill was an extraordinary woman, and Carlos couldn't be more proud.

When they called her name it was a shock. Jill had been very happy when they called the name of Barry, Chris and Rebecca, applauded them with a huge smile on their face, but didn’t expected when she heard her name, she looked at Carlos, with a weak smile, and he opened a huge smile, standing up to hug her. Following her as she headed towards the stage, joining Barry and Rebecca, while Chris gave a short speech.

And Carlos was there. At the front, cheering her with a smile on her face, Jill cried when Chris's speech spoke about her, she laughed and hid her face in Barry's jacket, ashamed, but Carlos, Carlos thought she was beautiful.

[xaori]

Five questions for writers

I was tagged by the amazing @defaultjane I couldn’t provide a cool mug, but I can provide this lol

1.  Do you have a favorite character to write? Who and why? Yes. Claire Redfield. I think I feel somehow related to her because we are both big messes. We try and fail, try again (fail again), over and over. She saved a girl one night but left her with… ugh… Leon Kennedy (we know how that ended if Capcom doesn’t ruin their own canon). She went to Europe to find her brother and ended up on an island and needed to be rescued herself (FAIL!). She and her coworkers were abducted to another island and most of them died and she tried to kill the big baddie but the big baddie committed suicide in front of her eyes (OOOPS!). Yeah, my life isn’t that tragic, but that’s basically me. A bunch of good intentions and bad choices with worse outcome -shrugs-

2.  Do you have a favorite trope to write? Or one you want to write?

No, but one thing I accidentally slide into my works repeatedly is Claire drowning her sorrows in alcohol and having sex with her best friend/her brother’s coworker/her brother’s coworker again. It happens too often, but it just works lol

3.  Share your favorite description you’ve written?

Desc… wha?

I’ll just pick a random part from Family Portrait because it’s what my screen currently shows, lol

Her throat was sore from screaming his name when she finally found her brother standing on top of the cliff next to the mansion, glaring down into the abyss that had swallowed both his archenemy and the love of his life. He wasn't moving, bravely resisting the cold European breeze that whistled over the treetops and made them swing softly in the light of the setting sun. If you blinked too quickly, for a moment, you could have believed that he was going to jump after them as well, but Claire knew that he wouldn't just give up on life and leave her alone in the world. Not after all he had done to keep her safe.

4.  Share your favorite dialogue you’ve written?

I have so many, but as I’m currently working on Family Portrait, I’ll pick this one between Jill and Claire. Short summary: 1997, Claire, with some bad romantic feelings for her brother, has been seeing Wesker secretly because […] and one night she comes home late and finds Jill in her kitchen (she has been living with the Redfields because her apartment block burnt down).

 When she turned into the kitchen, something shattered to the ground.

"Claire, oh. I'm sorry." It was Jill who was standing there in the darkness of the night, with tousled hair and an oversized pajama shirt — Chris' shirt, as Claire didn't fail to notice. The woman pressed her palm onto her chest as she panted at the redhead. "I didn't hear you come down the..." She stopped speaking and looked at Claire. "Stairs." She frowned. "Did you go out?"

The initial anger over Jill wearing Chris' pajamas was soon blown away, leaving her stuttering all kinds of nonsense, busy thinking of a good excuse she could tell Valentine. Kelly, maybe. Yes, she could have been studying with Kelly until —her eyes darted to the kitchen clock— 1 am.

"Were you with a boy?" Jill smirked smugly at her before she bent down to remove the shards of the glass she'd dropped. When she got up, she seemed to reconsider and frowned a bit. "Or a girl?"

Claire sucked in a breath and shook her head eagerly.

"I..." She sighed. "A boy." What a weird word for a creepy S.T.A.R.S. Captain in his late thirties. Claire licked her lips and narrowed her eyes at Jill, asking for complicity. "Don't tell Chris, please."

The older woman chuckled.

"I won't. You're old enough." She quirked an eyebrow and pouted a bit. "But I assume you're using protection, aren't you?"

Claire coughed up a little. That conversation was not only getting displeasing, it was ridiculous as well. She was a grown-up; there was no need to give her the sex talk. Just to finish off the subject as soon as possible, she nodded, eye-rolling, and put on a smile.

"Yes, we are."

Jill kept smiling at her and shrugged.

"Sorry," she muttered as she looked down. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I don't have any family and I always wanted to have a sister to talk to."

Claire blinked at the brunette and felt a little sorry for her. Chris had told her that Jill's father, the only family she had, was in jail. She had never known what it meant to be a sibling and she was, strictly considering it, alone in the world. Claire forced a smile and shook her head.

"It's okay," she said and leaned onto the counter. "Just, please, promise that Chris won't find out. He wouldn't approve."

Jill stretched her little finger out.

"I pinky swear."

Claire giggled slyly and hooked her finger into Jill's, sealing their deal.

"Thank you."

5.  A scene you haven’t written, but want to?

I change the question: A scene you regret not having written? Because I have a lot of upcoming scenes I still want to write but admitting that here would mean spoilers lol However, I missed adding a huge Claire-Piers smut scene to A Third Chance thinking that I would get the chance to do another one later, but I recently changed the whole plot and planning and now there’s no room for more smut and it makes me really sad T_T

I can already hear her say  I hate it, thanks, but I tag @irithyll-writes anyway <3

[fatalfanfiction]

The Wedding - Thor/Loki smut ficlet

The Wedding

Summary: Thor is invited to Midgard to keep the Avengers from falling apart at Vision and Wanda's wedding. Loki agrees to come along for varying reasons.

Note:  First time Thor and Loki so be kind. This was the love child of two different ficlets being shoved together to create a semblance of a story. I have to eventually branch away from Wesker and Chris, right?

Arriving to Midgard was the beginning of what was going to be a very harrowing experience, Loki was absolutely convinced. The black haired trickster was adorned in a slick black suit as he appeared in front of Doctor Strange's sanctuary. Thor was beside him, casual jeans and jacket doing little to blend him in.

"Who is marrying, exactly?" Loki asked brushing off invisible dust from his impeccably perfect jacket.

"Vision and Wanda," Thor answered, "As I've told you every other time you have asked."

"And yet, I still find myself lost on who they are," Loki retorted.

"Thor," Tony said as the doors of the sanctum opened revealing Doctor Strange as well.

"Stark," Thor nodded before ascending the stairs.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Strange muttered as the group entered.

"I quite agree," Loki shot and the two shared a glare.

"You two are to be staying here for the next three or so days. The only way I managed to persuade the gracious doctor into this was to have you two swear you would not leave your room until the wedding and you are to leave the following day. Deal?" Tony asked.

"Understood," Thor smiled and Tony clapped him on the shoulder.

"Food can be found in your room—"

"Forgive me but I believe the two of you are mistaken if you believe we are staying in a singular room together," Loki chimed.

Strange ignored him.

"—where there is also an adjoining bath. Don't wander and you—" he turned to Loki, "—No serious spell casting. I have you on high alert and any detection that you are doing something sinister will have me stopping you."

"Right," Loki muttered before eyeing Thor, "Why am I here?"

"We have asked that very same question," Tony responded.

The interaction ended shortly thereafter Tony explained they would have a car waiting for them at noon the following day for the wedding. Their presence at the wedding was requested as insurance that the two would not be bothered on the special day—Well, Thor's presence was.

"You agreed, Brother," Thor sighed once the duo were in their room.

Loki unbuttoned his jacket and sat on the bed. The room itself wasn't awful but three days where he couldn't leave, couldn't cast, and was stuck with Thor. The last one wasn't awful as the two had been practically inseparable but neither would admit to that.

Actually, Thor might.

"Don't remind me," Loki grumbled.

Thor had never shared this information with his friends out of fear of their lost respect but he could not stand to be alone. When he was alone, his thoughts became alive with guilt. His thoughts were no longer his but the monster that lurked within his conscious reminding him of the damage he has done everywhere he has gone. True, he had done his very best to contain whatever evil being that came along but the amount of casualties truly weighed on him.

"How many times do I have to save the realms before I get a break? A break that does not come with loss…" Thor trailed off and Loki scoffed.

Thor and Loki were sitting in the room that was offered to them upon their arrival. Tony casually mentioned something about a disagreement and assured Steve would call and explain later. Luckily, the 'room' turned out to be a series of rooms with a single bedroom and it looked out onto the streets of New York.

And there was plenty of alcohol for the two, supplied by Tony.

So, here Thor was—pacing about his room while Loki lounged on the bed, legs crossed in the air and a glass of wine in hand. The two had decided to stay in their human clothes for now but Thor knew Loki grew tired of them just as he did.

"Thor, do you believe in Gods?" Loki asked after a long period of silence.

Thor scoffed and looked at the man he once called brother with disbelief.

"What kind of question is that? You know gods to be true, Loki. We are among them," Thor responded.

"Demigods, really," Loki muttered before sitting up and exchanging glances with the blond, "However, I mean of the popular religions among Midgard—their god… Any religion at all, really. Do you believe in them?"

"Whatever the game, Loki, I tire of it," Thor sighed and turned on his heel to make his way to the open window.

The room itself was large but simple. It had three separate rooms besides the bedroom—the living room, kitchen, and bathroom. It overlooked New York's crowded region and was not nearly as quiet as Loki would have wanted.

"It is a rather sincere question, Thor," Loki stated though the words left his lips playfully and Thor sighed once again.

"I'll play, then," the blond responded though did not turn from the open window, "It doesn't matter what I believe. Midgardians must rely on something more than themselves to get the times of struggle and strife. Perhaps it is their upbringing or personal struggles but most of them cannot see they are their own higher power. Even we are known to them as gods but are we truly? We have expanded lives and abilities but truly are we different? Even we fade," Thor hummed after a time of silence to show he had finished speaking.

"There is a difference, you know," Loki stated. Thor twisted his neck to look at Loki before he continued, "We're simply better."

Thor laughed as he knew this to be one of Loki's jokes. Loki smirked and returned to his horizontal position, sipping away and allowing the alcohol to flow through his powered veins.

"What are you going to say to Rogers?" Loki asked absentmindedly as he played with a small strand of energy above him, weaving it around and letting it follow his hand while he spoke.

"I haven't a clue," Thor sighed and rested his forehead to the window, "Ideas are welcome."

"How about 'I am the powerful and ever handsome Thor and I have far more important things to do than fix your lowly Midgard squabbles'?" Loki answered in a deep, almost booming, voice.

"That was a horrible impersonation of me—" Thor began.

"Though, accurate," Loki smirked to himself and brought his glass to his lips, finishing his second glass of wine for the night.

"We are a team, Loki. I cannot sit idle or turn my back," Thor took a step back and walked out of the room to where the liquor cabinet was.

"I mean, you could," Loki countered loudly.

Thor entered the room with another wine bottle and filled Loki's cup before setting it beside the bed on the table and tending to his own glass which was very obviously some sort of strong beer since Loki turned his nose to the lingering smell.

"I am not so selfish that I could," Thor threw back casually.

"I'm selfish?" Loki laughed dryly and took a drink gracefully out of spite.

"Did I say that?" Thor chuckled and sat on the large chair in the corner of the room.

"I would never have accompanied you if I were selfish. I could have easily used the break away from you to do whatever I liked, really. I offered to come and this is the thanks I get," Loki muttered bitterly and Thor smiled warmly.

"Why did you offer to come?" Thor asked.

"I already told you," Loki snapped, the magic string in the air vanishing as he sat up, "I know they are taking advantage of you. I simply believe you should be devoting more time to Asgard. You are to be king, Thor, and yet you run off to Midgard over some Earthly disagreement and a simple soul binding."

"I know when you are lying, Loki. Lest we forget you care very little for our home. That doesn't mean you are wrong," Thor shrugged.

"My dislike for Asgard does not extend to you, Thor," Loki countered.

"Not anymore," Thor added.

Loki smirked, "Not anymore."

They both took a drink and allowed the silence between them. Thor could distantly hear people going about their evenings through the open window and before long, Loki was pouring himself another glass and Thor was out of the room to fill his own. Upon returning, Loki was standing at the window, back turned to the doorway and his Asgard clothing returned.

"You don't like to travel alone. I hear the trouble you experience in your sleep and I know I'm one of the few you confide in. Besides, I was rather worried you would encounter a certain old girlfriend," Loki explained quietly.

"I thank you for accompanying me," Thor responded with a smile.

"No, you thank me by accusations and inquiries," Loki corrected with a scoff.

"That is also true," Thor agreed and allowed his glamor to fall as well.

"When are you expected to hear back from Stark?" Loki asked, tripping one of the passerby couples with a wave of his hand and quietly snickering when the two landed hard on the sidewalk.

"Perhaps tomorrow. He will contact me once I am fully aware of the situation," Thor shrugged and began to remove bits of his armor.

"And how, exactly, is he to know your knowledge of the situation if you don't make that known?" Loki asked slowly, turning his head to Thor, watching the blond remove his cape.

"He has quite the team. He will know by tomorrow morning, I assure you," Thor grinned.

Loki hummed in response but continued to watch Thor undress, eyes glazing over his now bare torso. Thor's back was to Loki as he folded the cloth and set it to the side, now only in loose trousers. He absentmindedly tied his hair back after toeing off his boots, as well. Loki watched each movement with intent until Thor's head turned towards him, mouth open ready to speak, though Loki turned away.

"I didn't expect to stay for more than several hours," Thor said.

"You were aware of the wedding, yes?" Loki asked tauntingly.

"Loki," Thor groaned with a playful pout.

Loki rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers lazily. With a loud crash, a medium sized wardrobe appeared in the corner of the room behind Loki. Thor grinned and Loki felt the man smile at him.

"I haven't a clue why you look so happy. You are lugging the damn thing home," Loki smirked and turned just to see Thor laugh.

Thor opened the wardrobe and placed his armor inside. Within the intricate wooden cabinet were clothes for both men and various bath soaps and oils.

"Much appreciated, Brother," Thor stated and closed it.

Loki rolled his eyes and his gaze turned back to the window, though, out of annoyance than anything. He silently sipped from his wine and ignored Thor approaching him from behind. The blonde's strong arms were wrapped around Loki's mid and Thor's front was pressed flush against Loki's back. Lips were to Loki's ear and Thor's words whispered quietly;

"Are you going to change?"

Loki, who had jumped at the sudden contact, nodded and placed his wine on the window sill. Thor released him and Loki was soon walking across the room and stripping his own armor and leather simultaneously. Loki's underclothes were all that remained; a long sleeved black tunic and tight, thin, black trousers.

Loki felt Thor's eyes on him while he finished putting away his clothing, though, he ignored it. Instead, Loki returned to retrieve his glass and shut the window. He leaned back and could feel the cool glass pressed against his thin tunic. He sighed and looked towards Thor, taking another drink.

"I'm sorry," Thor said sadly from the chair he now resided.

"Whatever for?" Loki asked nonchalantly.

"I'm aware you don't—" Thor began.

Loki was in no mood.

"I don't what, Thor? Enjoy your incessant need to remind me of the lie I lived? Or, perhaps, I would assume you knowing of our nightly activities, you would cease to consider me a brother and yet here you are?"

"Yes, either one," Thor responded though his sad grin was not met well.

"We have had this exact conversation countless times," Loki hissed.

Loki's right hand, which held his precious wine, was shaking and threatening to destroy the glass. Thor has seen it happen more times than he can count—Loki's anger appeared differently than his own. Thor's anger could bring a storm, as rare as it was, but Loki's anger could crumble building so a simple glass was surely doomed.

And Thor did not want another encounter with Strange.

"Yes, we have spoken about this previously but—" Thor began.

Again, Loki was in no mood and the glass hummed quietly in the trickster's hand.

"Then why bother discussing it again, Thor?" Loki asked.

"We are brothers in battle, in life, and, yes, in bed," Thor explained and stepped towards Loki who didn't step away showing he was listening as Thor continued, "We are inseparable, Loki. I may continue to call you brother simply because we are one in all things."

Loki crossed his arms and sighed before finishing off his wine and setting the empty glass on the window sill yet again. He didn't speak for a moment and Thor smiled at him with his goofy grin. Loki rolled his eyes and pushed the blond playfully when Thor stepped closer.

"I don't enjoy—"

The phone ringing cut Loki off and the trickster sighed once again.

Thor shot Loki an apologetic smile before rushing to the front room where the ringing resided. Loki quietly took his now empty wine glass and followed gracefully.

The god of thunder had the receiver pressed to his ear and his back to Loki. The trickster listened intently as he opened another bottle of wine and poured the liquid into his glass. His eyes kept glued to Thor's bare back as the wine glass was raised to his lips.

"I know very little of the situation. I understand there are some feelings of betrayal," Thor spoke quietly and Loki gazed on. Several moments went by before Thor spoke again, "Perhaps, but we are surely stronger together. And I believe Wanda and Vision would want—" Thor was most definitely cut off and Loki snickered quietly.

The trickster sauntered towards Thor, bare feet silent on carpet as the blond was approached from behind. Carefully, Loki released his wine glass, letting it hover in the air beside him, and tugged Thor's trousers from the back.

"Y-Yes, of course. But surely Stark would not have you detained on such a day," Thor answered as he turned his body to answer Loki.

Loki was no sooner dropping to his knees and in a swift movement even Thor missed, the blonde's trousers were at his ankles and his half hard cock was being engulfed by Loki. Humming around the throbbing member, Loki looked up at Thor as a request for attention that the blond had to fight hard to ignore—yet, he did not push the brunet away.

"I understand but it has been quite some time and perhaps if I talk to him for you, I can guarantee your freedom," Thor offered into the receiver, his eyes hypnotized by Loki's head bobbing away between his legs.

Thor's free hand rested on the back of Loki's head, lightly gripping the long threads and biting back a moan as Loki took the erection into his throat. Loki choked quietly and pulled back, green eyes meeting blue as his tongue played with the tip. Thor licked his lips and exhaled into the phone.

"I am here to ensure there are no issues," Thor stated and shut his eyes, nodding to himself, "Yes, by Tony."

Loki took this time to lightly cup the blonde's balls and lick from base to tip, tongue catching every drop of precum escaping Thor. Smirking as he could hear the struggling voice of the man above him, Loki took the blond in his mouth once against and moaned louder now, causing Thor to hide the speaker of the receiver and cast a glare at the brunet.

Loki truly enjoyed these games.

"Do not worry, Rogers, I am here to prevent exactly that. This is to be a peaceful joining as they deserve it and I'm sure Stark agrees," Thor said, his deep voice deepening as his desire grew.

There was a long pause as he strained to listen to the other line and focus on Loki's lips simultaneously. Loki's left hand had been rubbing his own erection through his pants since he started his toying and he smirked at Thor. Loki's tongue began to glide down Thor's hard member to lick his balls, instead, hand in his hair tightening at the action.

"Yes, of course, no trouble. Wanda will be happy, surely," Thor half growled into the phone.

Thor didn't even bother saying goodbye before he slammed the receiver down and pulled Loki up by his hair. Lips were on lips as Thor quickly led them to the bedroom.

"Cunt or cock?" Loki asked playfully as he was backed into the bed, the back of his legs hitting the mattress before causing him to fall gracefully into the sheets.

"Cock," Thor answered gruffly.

It wasn't until later in the evening when Loki emerged from being thoroughly fucked in the bedroom that his eyes landed on the camera sitting in the upper corner above the kitchen then another in the living area. Loki smirked and snapped his finger, both black spheres falling from their place and crashing to the floor.

"What was that?" Thor called from the adjacent room.

Loki hummed and returned with the wine, as he had set out for. The smirk had not vanished and he climbed back into bed, bottle in hand and silk robes falling from his bare shoulders.

"Nothing, brother," Loki assured and shared a light kiss with the man.

"I know when you lie, Loki," Thor warned and Loki straddled him in response.

"If your friends discovered us, what would your thoughts be?" Loki asked playfully.

"Another of your games?" Thor asked.

Loki shrugged casually and Thor sighed.

"I have no interest in keeping us hidden. If truth comes to fruition then so be it," Thor answered and Loki nodded slowly.

"You may have some interesting conversations tomorrow. Particularly with Strange," Loki smirked and Thor eyed him carefully before sighing.

"Oh, what have you done this time, brother?" Thor asked.

"As shocking as it may be, Thor, nothing," Loki answered and chuckled dryly before adding, "This time, of course."

"Of course," Thor sighed before accepting Loki's kiss.

[aion-rsa]

Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City Post-Credit Scene Explained

https://ift.tt/3DPqImQ

It seems like a happy ending: Chris, Claire, Jill, and Leon have all made it out of the Spencer Mansion just as it comes crashing down above them. A few miles away, the evil Umbrella Corporation has managed to contain the zombie outbreak, meaning today won’t be the end of the world.

But what about tomorrow? Well, that’ll be up to our heroes, who likely will have a thing or two to say after their nightmarish ordeal inside the secret Umbrella lab that infected the people of Raccoon City with the T-virus.

While it might be a little too early to think so far ahead, Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City clearly has a plan in place for a potential sequel. In fact, it’s made abundantly clear where director Johannes Roberts and Sony Pictures want to go next in the movie’s post-credit scene, which longtime fans of the franchise won’t want to miss.

The scene opens by revealing that, true to the source material, the treacherous Albert Wesker (Tom Hopper) somehow survived his death at the Spencer Mansion. If you remember, he was shot before he could hurt Sherry Birkin (Holly De Barros) and escape with the G-virus. But here he is on a hospital bed, breathing once again. What’s happening?

The camera quickly cuts to a second person in the scene, and it all becomes very clear. The person who has saved Wesker is none other than super spy Ada Wong, played by Lily Gao (The Expanse), revealing that she was the former STARS agent’s secret employer. The scene ends with Ada handing Wesker his signature sunglasses so that he can put them on for the very first time.

If there’s ever a sequel, it’s clear these will be the two antagonists that Chris, Claire, Leon, and Jill will have to deal with. In the meantime, here’s a refresher regarding who Ada Wong is and what’s next for Wesker based on his history in the video games.

Who Is Ada Wong?

How could you adapt the plot of Resident Evil 2 without including Ada Wong? That was the question on many fans’ minds when she wasn’t announced as part of the reboot’s cast. But Sony was just hiding Lily Gao’s cameo for fans (and to set up the sequel, of course).

Historically, Ada appears in any games featuring Leon S. Kennedy, showing up as both an arch-rival but also as an anti-hero and even somewhat of a romantic interest (although Claire will always be first in Leon’s heart). Ada has no clear allegiance throughout the series and seems to follow her own indecipherable agenda, often double-crossing and even triple-crossing others to get what she really wants. Basically, you can’t trust her.

Ultimately, her goal in most of the games she appears in is to acquire samples of whatever virus or parasite is currently plaguing the characters in the story. In Resident Evil 2, she’s trying to steal a sample of the G-virus, while in Resident Evil 4 she wants a sample of Las Plagas. The point is that she generally always bests Leon, no matter how hard he tries to stop her. It’ll be very interesting to watch that dynamic on screen if a sequel happens.

Read more

Games

Resident Evil Village: Why Ethan Winters Is the Worst RE Protagonist

By Matthew Byrd

Games

15 Best Resident Evil Bosses and Monsters Ranked

By Aaron Potter

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

What’s Next for Albert Wesker?

While the Wesker of the video games is an evil Umbrella agent from the very start, a brilliant researcher helping the corporation create these dangerous viruses, Tom Hopper’s Wesker isn’t quite so bad. He’s not really in on what Umbrella is doing — and doesn’t even know Ada Wong is his client. He just wants to make some extra dough, even if it means endangering his STARS comrades in the process.

Well, by the end of the post-credit scene, we get a slightly more fully-formed evil Wesker who has clearly been injected with some new kind of virus keeping him alive. In the games, Wesker was injected with a prototype virus by Umbrella which gave him superhuman strength and made him very hard to kill (until Chris Redfield finally dropped him into a volcano in Resident Evil 5).

Unlike Williams Birkin’s gruesome transformation with the G-virus, the physical effects of the P-virus are much more subtle. While Wesker maintains his human form (with many enhanced abilities), the virus causes a mutation of his pupils, turning them red and cat-like. In the movie, when Wesker asks Ada what’s happened to his eyes, he’s likely referring to this mutation. It’s why he dons sunglasses for most of the video game series.

So, now that Wesker has completed his transformation, what’s next? Well, likely an induction into whatever secret organization Ada is working for. In the games, after the events at the Spencer Mansion, Wesker begins working for Umbrella’s major rival, which is simply referred to as “The Organization.” Years after the destruction of Raccoon City, Wesker would spend his time serving the agenda of this mystery developer of bio-weapons until it was eventually swallowed up by another evil pharmaceutical company called Tricell. Ever the company man, that Wesker.

If we get to see Wesker in a movie sequel, it’s possible he and Ada will be working for the Organization, adding a second evil faction that our heroes must stop from destroying the planet. That means poor Leon is definitely about to get owned.

Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City is out in theaters now.

The post Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City Post-Credit Scene Explained appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3xjbF2a