#overheard in raccoon city

[ladyantiheroine]

Wesker: Engage your enemy! Ada: On it! Ada, slips a ring on Leon’s finger: Will you ma- Wesker: NOT LIKE THAT!

[so-mordor-itis]

Eye on You

“give peace a chance, let the fear you have fall away, i’ve got my eye on you. say yes to heaven, say yes to me.

if you go, I’ll stay.. you come back, I’ll be right here. like a barge at sea, in the storm I stay clear, cause I’ve got my mind on you”

I told you I'd write a drabble but uhhhhh this ain't no drabble- @unhealthy-leon-brainrot

1998.

Leon loved differently back then. He loved in a way a 21 year old man freshly graduated from college could. He was giddy whenever the person in his interest would smile at him, would give him any time of day. His hands would become clammy, and his heart would race as if he were still a teenager. Sometimes, he truly felt like one at heart. That his soul was trapped in that time period, and it wouldn't ever leave.

It's why when he met you for the first time, and when you smiled at him as if nothing could go wrong, his face burned, and his heart almost burst right then and there. You were a brilliant flame, and he felt like a small candle stick awaiting to be lit.

He asked you out in a sputter of words, hating himself immediately after listening to them tumble. Leon didn't want his nervousness to show. He had been practicing for weeks in front of bathroom mirrors and sometimes in the Officer's Academy shower, hoping nobody overheard him. He wanted it to be perfect because that's what you deserved.

You giggled, and somehow, his heart both fluttered and sank. Your eyes glittered with an emotion that made him slightly hopeful. "You want to take me out on a date?"

"Yeah," he replied, all too quickly. "If you'd like to that is--only if you'd like to." He wished he could stop himself from talking, but he couldn't.

You smiled at him, and dammit there went the last of his coherent thoughts. "You know what? Sure. I don't have anything interesting going on." You laughed again, looking away shyly. "I can't say no when you're looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Leon asked, though he fully knew what you were talking about.

"Like I'm the only thing on your mind," you responded. You were fidgeting with your shirt, and Leon wanted nothing more than to grab your hands and hold them.

You weren't incorrect, either. You were on his mind a frightening amount. This affection for you was a buzz in the back of his mind, a throb in his chest.

You still said yes.

"So it's a date?"

"Yes, it's a date."

He swore he grinned from ear to ear, and he saw you return it.

--

The day he was supposed to pick you up, he never did. You were more worried than disappointed. Leon didn't seem like the type of guy you ask you out, gazing at you as if you created the sky and the stars, and then drop you like a hat. Despite the bitter part of you wanting to think he ditched you, the rational part knew better.

He called you hours later, apologetic and broken. "I'm so sorry. Something... something came up."

"Forget the date," you quickly muttered, surprised at how swift the words left your mouth. "Are you okay?"

He was silent for a bit. "Not really."

"Where are you? I'm coming to you."

"No, wait," Leon called your name almost in a plea. "I don't want you to drag yourself into this."

You weren't backing down without a little bit of a fight. "Leon, please."

He paused before stating he was in a hospital outside of Raccoon City.

--

Leon knew he loved you after that. He never admitted to himself until he was sure, but he couldn't prevent that innocent crush from growing into something more powerful.

You became a firework, blazing in his lonely, starless sky. You had always been.

2004.

He liked to believe he still loved the same. Wanted to love the same as he did all those years ago. His heart pounding and his palms becoming clammy, blue eyes full of innocent love.

He knew he didn't.

Leon was reserved now, awkward with his affection, hesitant with his touches yet still craved it. He hated that you had to watch him develop--no, perhaps devolve was the better word here--this trauma response. This training, this work, it all collapsed on top of him, and sometimes he felt as if it would eventually crush him.

Yet, some part of you still saw his old self. That stupid, lovesick boy who craved your attention the way a puppy would a scrap of food. You still gave him love, still kissed his scars, still told him sweet nothings when he broke down crying because the pressure was too much.

He once asked you if you were okay with all of this still, okay with him. You gave him your usual smile, the one that made him weak and touched that lovesick boy deep down. "You're stuck with me, Leon. I gave myself to you the day you asked me out. I'm staying. No matter what happens, I'm here."

He kissed you hard that day. Harder than he ever had. Placing a promise against your lips that he would always come back to you. No matter what.

--

You often wondered what he would do without you. If he would crash and burn the moment you turned around, if the night terrors would claw at his throat and suffocate him.

It was hard, watching him suffer mentally when all you could do was give him words of affirmation. Reassure him that the nightmares weren't real and that you were truly there with him and not bloodied up and dead.

Those moments made the good ones feel like precious gifts. Not just for you, but also for him. You carried them in your heart and held on to those when the bad days would storm over his head.

You remembered one of those good days so clearly, so vividly it never failed to make you smile. One day, while looking over some files, Leon had fallen asleep. His glasses--the ones he usually only used whenever he was reading important work files--were scrunched against his face, pushing up against the bridge of his nose. You remembered walking into his office, snickering a little at the sight. You sighed, shaking your head. "What am I going to do with you?"

You approached him quietly, as if the smallest movement would ruin his peaceful slumber. You grabbed the rims of his glasses carefully, pulling them off his face so he'd be more comfortable. As you did, you caught a feel of his soft locks and couldn't help but lightly smooth between your fingers. You took note of his facial features; his cheekbones were more rigid, and the shadows of his eyes were sunken in. His hair was even a bit darker, looking dirtier blond than it had when you first met. Still handsome, that would never change.

The urge to kiss his forehead had you twitching, but you didn’t want to disturb him. Especially since he had probably been staring at documented words for who knows how long.

You moved to quietly nudge yourself away before his sleepy voice mumbled. "Gonna go so soon?"

You blinked, looking down to see his eyes were now open. Still hazy from his rest. You practically beamed at him. "Didn't wanna wake you."

Leon sat up, stretching a little before putting his glasses back on. "Guess I must've passed out. These reports practically put me to sleep. I can't believe this is part of what they pay me for."

You attempted to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the document, but he placed them flat on the table when he caught you.

Leon snickered. "Classified. Sorry, baby."

You pouted a little. "Can't I help my boyfriend out a little?"

He stood up and stretched more, popping his back. "Not if it means you getting in trouble by seeing the reports. I'd also get in trouble, and we definitely wouldn't want that."

"Man, and here I thought I'd be able to see the famous missions Leon Kennedy goes on," you teased.

Leon just rolled his eyes as if you two had had this discussion before. You have. You just like to see him smile. Distract him as much as you could.

"Become an agent, then we'll talk." He took off his glasses and put them back on his desk. He placed his gaze upon you, and you could feel the adoration in his eyes. He still looked at you as if you had created the sky, the moon, the stars. As if you were his sun and he orbited around you and only you. You would never get over it.

Leon mimicked the action you were doing earlier and parted your hair from your cheeks so he could kiss your forehead.

His work phone rang loud, interrupting the moment. Leon sighed and kissed you quickly against the lips before the obligation to his duty forced him to go answer it.

"Kennedy. Yes, sir."

You observed his body language as he discussed with his superior. His shoulders went rigid, his eyes focused as if he were already on the field. He was prepared for whatever they were about to tell him because he had to be.

He hung up after a minute of giving affirming hums and a variety of yeses. Leon plopped his phone on the documentations and gave you an apologetic look.

"Don't worry about it." You shook your head. You knew what he was about to say. He didn't even need to tell you anything out loud. His eyes told the whole story.

"I really don't deserve you," he mumbled. "Makes me wonder how you do it."

"Because I love you." You said simply. "I'm here to stay, remember?"

--

|Tags:|

@seraphiism , @uhlunaro , @izuniias , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @leonskillshot , @airanke , @muffimtv , @justonemore-fic , @mandalhoerian , @tosuckmyweenis , @boundinparchment

[porcelainseashore]

Coffee & Secrets (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

Author's Note: The biggest heartfelt thank you to my friends @alibellerosetta and Cameron who beta’d this fic + all those who reached out and supported me in DMs! ❤️ P.S. There may be spoilers for Coffee Talk ahead, so read at your own discretion.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: Arrival

September 30, 1998. It was heavy rain and howling winds, but your shop was still open, like a beacon of light in the darkness. A flash of lightning and a high beam panned across the window. The rumbling sound of an engine came to a halt. 

Could that be your first customer of the day?

Your question was answered when a young, red-haired woman in a matching leather jacket burst through the front door, triggering the welcome chime that signaled a new arrival. She was drenched like a drowned rat, helmet tucked under her arm as she made her way over to the counter tentatively, her eyes darting back and forth at the empty space before her.

“Hey, uh, you’re open, right?”

“Of course.” Your smile was genial and bright, but not scorching—mellow like the midnight sun in a starless sky. “What would you like, miss?”

She relaxed a little, her shoulders loosening as she placed her helmet on the counter until it appeared as if she remembered something. Looking back, her gaze followed the trail of dirty puddles she had left in her wake. Water pooled from her soaked boots as she gave you a sheepish grin. “Um, sorry.”

You waved it off with a laugh. “Apologize when you can control the weather.” Grabbing a couple of tea towels from the nearby rack, you handed it to her. “Here, why don’t you dry off while I fix you something to warm up with?”

She thanked you profusely as you got to work, concocting up a special blend of frothy hot chocolate with milk, honey, rosewater, and a touch of cinnamon. The pattering of rain from the outside complemented the chill lo-fi soundtrack you had put on in the background.

Sliding the glass over the surface of the table, you placed it in front of her. “Your Turkish Delight, miss.”

“Claire,” she offered. “Just call me Claire.” 

As she brought the steamy drink to her lips, her eyes widened, like something had caught her by surprise.

“Mmm, wow,” she sputtered. “This is—”

“Good?”

“Really good!” she corrected, as she gulped the rest down enthusiastically.

At that moment, the door chime tinkled again, and another stranger strolled in, attempting to brush away the droplets from his clothes in vain. Running a hand through his slick blonde bangs, his piercing blue eyes fell upon the two of you like a deer in the headlights.

“Uh, um…” he stammered, only to shake his head in response at his own fumbling as he cleared his throat to try again. “Do you mind if—”

But you were already there, holding out another towel before he could even blink.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” The corners of his mouth curled into a shy smile as he took the towel from your hands gratefully.

“You better leave her a good tip!” Claire hollered from where she sat as he chuckled and raised his hands in mock resignation.

“And what can I get you, mister?”

“Leon.”

“Hmm?”

He stuck out his hand, greeting you with an air of innocence and genuineness. “I’m Leon.”

You shook hands and introduced yourself before he would reveal his order. “Just a coffee, nothing fancy.”

“Coming right up,” you called out over your shoulder, a knowing look cast across your face.

As you prepared a pot of black filter coffee, you overheard your two customers exchanging a few words.

“You from Raccoon City?”

“Nah, I’m just here for a few days to visit my brother. Lemme guess, you’re not from around here either?”

“Not really, well, not yet. I mean, I was supposed to start my first day at the RPD—”

“Wait, today? Have you seen the time?”

“I know, I know… I got delayed. Add the insane weather and I’m still trying to work out the directions on this map.”

“Well, rookie, you’re in luck. My brother’s part of S.T.A.R.S., so I could lead you to the station when the weather clears up a little.”

“Rookie? Really?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

Pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a cup, you served it to Leon, who had just accepted Claire’s offer, despite his slight hesitation. “Your nothing fancy coffee.”

He snickered, locking eyes with you for a split second before taking a sip. Tension eased from his brows as he closed them shut, sighing blissfully into the cup. “It’s—”

“Really good?” Claire suggested, finishing his sentence from him.

He nodded and pursed his lips, finishing the rest of the drink in a couple of mouthfuls. Gesturing towards Claire’s empty glass, he stated, “I’ll get hers too.”

As he fished out a couple of crumpled bills, you stopped him, instinctively placing your hand over his when he tried to slip them over. His eyes flickered at your touch, but he did not pull away, waiting patiently for your response.

“On the house,” you clarified.

“What? No,” Claire protested as she motioned to the empty seats around her. “How’s your shop gonna survive like this?”

“I’ll manage,” you shrugged before peering out through one of the side windows. “Seems like the rain’s lightened up.”

“We’ll be back,” Leon promised, his gaze stoic and sincere, as he dragged the chair out under him, preparing to leave. Claire did the same.

As the door chime tinkled for the final time that evening, he paused abruptly, popping his head back in to ask, “When are you open?”

At this, you let out a smile. “Only at night.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[ellieslaces]

𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: rookie!leon x fem stars agent!reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: a collection of headcannons in which rookie cop leon has a crush on the reader, who’s a s.t.a.r.s agent

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: harsh language; make-out sessions; flirty reader; mostly wholesome content; canon divergent

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i was inspired by @darling-i-read-it when i saw the post abt Leon having a crush on a STARS agent and oml i haven’t stopped thinking about it so here i am yet again

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star

• Leon had just started his position as a rookie cop at the Raccoon City PD and he’s always given the worst little tasks and assignments

• one day though - about four days into his first week - he passes the STARS office on his way with boxes to the storage room and almost drops them all

• he sees without a doubt the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in the STARS office, laughing at something the guy beside her said

• he has to pull himself together and take the boxes to storage room, his little heart hammering so fast the whole time

• Leon finally being introduced to you and the rest of the STARS team the next week when he’s instructed to take some paperwork to the STARS office

• he fell in love immediately when you walked to him, smiling widely, and taking the papers while introducing yourself

• he can hardly keep himself together as you walk him around the STARS office and introduce each agent to him

• he falls even harder when you scold each one, telling them all to be nice to him because he’s new

• after that, Leon always finds himself gravitating toward you any chance he gets — in the copy room, the kitchen, the shooting range

• you thinking he took a liking to you because you were one of the only ones who didn’t give him a hard time and to be honest, you didn’t really mind. he was sweet and totally lovable

• Leon honestly found it so insane how you were an absolute menace around the station

• like you would go around the office and flirt with a few officers to get them to do a task for you that you really didn’t want to do in the first place

• of course it always worked and they were all suckers for you

• and if he thought you were a menace on a daily bases, oh he was so surprised at how bold you were at holiday parties

• you would dance to the music in the most inappropriate ways possible for a work party

• and for some reason, it made him like you even more

• he also loved how you’d wear headphones with a walkman on your belt, and sing along, and dance to the music while you made copies or just walked around the station

• his crush on you was so bad, like next level bad

• in fact, you didn’t pick up on his crush on you at all. it was Jill who did. she never said a word of course, but she could just tell

• Leon always felt a little jealousy when he saw you talking to another agent, like Chris

• he knew you were out of his league, but he couldn’t help the hot jealousy in his chest as he would watch you laugh at something Chris said

• of course, he didn’t know that you’d rejected Chris when you first started working there and he asked you out a few times

• oh but Jill does. she loves to tease him for it, always reminding him of how you brutally shot him down

• and the teasing quickly becomes a problem when Leon walks by the STARS office one day and overhears Jill’s teasing

• of course, all Leon’s lovesick little brain processes are the words Chris, crush, and your name

• he doesn’t talk to you for two weeks. he ignores your jokes, your teases, your playful flirting (which he never ignores)

• until you finally get it out of him two weeks later in the shooting range

• he stammers and tells you he overheard Jill talking about you and Chris, and he likes you but it’s okay because he knows you don’t feel the same way, and you and Chris would be good together

• and you almost break then “oh, Leon, i don’t like Chris. Jill just likes to tease him because i rejected him when i started working here”

• Leon is obviously stunned “oh, uh, you don’t? sorry, i shouldn’t have said all that now i feel bad and -”

• “no, Leon. don’t feel bad. i actually kinda like you too you know…” you smiled sheepishly — which is pretty rare for you to be nervous

• Leon’s eyes widening to an unnatural size as he grins “you do? really? i didn’t think you’d like me i’m just a rookie.”

• “whether you’re a rookie or a trained professional, i like you. you’re really sweet and i know you’d treat me really well.”

• after that, you two start dating

• which is so fucking weird because a lot of the guys in the station — STARS and non-STARS — have been hitting on you and Jill since like the dawn of time

• it’s a little tense for Leon for a little while because a few other guys are even resentful you fell for a rookie and not them

• but of course Leon won’t say a word to them, so when he’s not around you put them in their place and tell them to leave him alone or you’ll fuck them up

• they are all obviously a little scared so they listen and start being nice - or as nice to a rookie as possible- to him again

• Leon always being so nervous and worrisome when you go in assignment

• seriously, he’ll worry himself to a point where he can’t sleep and he’ll nod off at his desk during the day

• when you finally get back, he always tells you how much he missed you and how worried he was and how he never wants you to leave him again

• but of course you always go on assignments. it’s a cruel cycle really

• you realize you were right — Leon did treat you so well. like a fucking princess honestly

• you believe you were so lucky that day when the lieutenant forced him to take paper work up to the STARS office

• Leon being literally the sweetest and best boyfriend you ever had and always making sure you’re okay and happy and safe

• but how could you not be happy? Leon is literally perfect to you and you couldn’t be happier with anyone else

how you can support Palestine! 🇵🇸

[mychoombatheroomba]

Weakest Links

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 35

You aren't the only one left broken after the test, as Leon soon learns.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

Leon felt numb as he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in that room. 

All he knew was that he wished he could have been there for you tonight. He wanted to stay with you. He wished so desperately that he could have been with you for longer, because the last thing you needed right now was to be alone. He’d only spent a few minutes with you before you’d asked him to leave you be. 

“I’ll be fine. Just go.”

You’d told him that, and it hadn’t been the command that had stung, but the strain in your voice. The ice creeping back in that made a winter’s morning of your words. 

He blinked his heavy eyelids and clenched his fists, feeling so utterly defeated. Defeated because there was nothing he could do to help you, no way to take back the blow and no way to fix what had been broken. 

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to find Reed and Hellman and . . . and what? What could he do? Rage at them? Tear into them the way Krauser had? 

Krauser. The man who’d been so cruel in his training thus far, but not like this. Who’d so often said that you needed to be ready for anything. Who’d not told the rest of the squad about Raccoon City and the bioweapons that destroyed it because he’d been ordered to be silent. 

Krauser, who had looked fully prepared to kill Reed the moment he arrived. Who had carried you so carefully from that abandoned prison. 

Krauser. 

That was who Leon set out in search of, ignoring the exhaustion in his bones, the aching of his bruises as he walked. 

He could hear the Major’s guttural voice as he crept forward, and the cooler voices of Reed and Hellman interspersed between bouts of scathing anger. Leon tucked himself against the wall as he listened, because he needed to know why. Why you and the rest had been made to suffer like that, and what it meant now that these men were here. A test, Krauser had said. 

And it was what he continued to growl as Leon overheard the words spoken around the corner. 

“. . . if that would be easier-”

“No.” Krauser. His voice was just as angry as before but strained. Like he was backed into a corner and had resigned that he couldn’t fight his way out. “They’re my men. It’s my responsibility.” 

Leon’s brows pinched together at what he was hearing, his gaze fixed on the floor at his feet as he listened. 

Reed’s voice - one that sent Leon’s chest tightening in anger - came next. The fear that Leon had seen in him back in the other room seemed to be gone, because his voice was back to that apathetic drawl. “And the Sergeant?” 

Leon looked up, because there was only one Sergeant they could be talking about. 

And his rage only flared as Reed went on. “With injuries like that-”

“Choose your next words very carefully,” Krauser warned, and Leon tensed at the utter ferocity in his tone. He couldn’t see the Major from where he hid around the corner, but he could feel the anger even from there. 

Reed seemed to heed the words, and there was a pause before he spoke again. “I only meant that training with that injury will be impossible. Not until it heals.” 

“An injury you are responsible for.”

It took everything not for Leon to speak up. To reveal himself and tell these bastards that you were stronger than they knew. That even the injuries they’d inflicted on you wouldn’t stop you. But Krauser, for the second time today, defended you where Leon wasn’t able to.

“I’m already giving up too many men for the sake of your bullshit. It will heal.” 

“I hope it does heal,” Hellman said, and again he sounded genuine, just as he had back in the main room of the infirmary. As if he hadn’t led the torture of fifteen people. As if what he’d done was forgivable. “We will need every able body we can get.”

“Then let the rest stay,” Krauser said, and again Leon felt something in him sink. “They can be trained-”

“You know we can’t risk that. Not with the information they’re going to be given. Not when they’re going to be pitted against an enemy that doesn’t care about rules of engagement or human ethics of any kind. If they broke for us, they will break under that pressure too.”

“You fucking tortured them for three fucking days. You don’t throw someone into a knife fight with no training and expect them to do well.”

Three days? They’d been in there for three days?

Reed scoffed. “An interesting stance to take, given your own training methods thus far.” 

“I’m trying to prepare them-”

“Major,” Hellman interrupted again, his voice just as calm and collected, “we have our orders. All of us. Whether we agree with them or not. You agreed to this.” 

A beat of silence in which Leon felt his fury sharpen. He’d agreed. Krauser had fucking agreed- 

“Not everyone who broke,” Krauser said after a moment, a plea disguised as a command. “Keep the ones who held out until the end at least. Soto and Kennedy.” 

Leon froze, eyes wide. Soto and Kennedy. Valeria and him. She’d broken too. Like him. And now Krauser was trying to convince these men to let them stay. To keep training to fight nightmares.

Was he afraid of being included in those sent home? Yes, he supposed he was. There wasn’t much for him to go back to, anyway. This had been the alternative to prison. The penance for knowing too much, for uncovering secrets buried beneath a now-ruined city. Become useful or become silent, that had been the choice. So, if Reed and Hellman were making Krauser send people home - the ones who’d failed . . . had that time in an abandoned prison just been a prelude to a life spent behind bars?

Were you going to be left alone again? 

“It’s a risk, Major-” 

“Then take it. Kennedy already knows all the shit you’re going to be telling them anyway and Soto is one of my best. She can learn. They both can.” 

“Soto gave up information about her squad,” Reed declared. “And Kennedy withheld information from federal investigators following Raccoon City. You want weak links to stay?” 

“I want you to let me worry about my own men. Soto is a good soldier. She’ll be a valuable asset. And Kennedy has more experience dealing with Umbrella than anyone here. You said we need as many men as we can spare.” Desperation, when it came to Jack Krauser, seemed to take the form of tension. Words strained to the breaking point. Leon didn’t know what to think as he heard the Major defending him and Valeria.

Nor did he know what to think when he heard Hellman sigh. “Fine.” 

One word, and Leon’s future in STRATCOM was secured, for better or worse. 

“I’ll offer again, if you’d rather we tell them . . .”

“I said I’d do it.” Leon had spent the last few months hearing Krauser’s voice. It had always been self-assured. Steadfast. Now, as Leon listened to it, he sounded defeated. “In the morning. They deserve their rest tonight.”

“As you wish,” Hellman said. “We’ll get settled in then.” 

Krauser just grunted in response. 

“We’ll meet tomorrow to discuss next steps.”

“Fine.”

Another moment of silence. 

“Major,” Hellman went on, “I’m sorry. Truly.” 

“Apologize to my men, not to me.” 

Another beat before Hellman bid Krauser a goodnight. Footsteps heading away from Leon. Two sets. The sound of a door opening. More silence and then-

“Fuck.” Krauser swore. 

Leon didn’t wait long enough to hear anything else, retreating back to the main room of the infirmary. He’d come in search of a fight, he supposed, but hearing the utter defeat in the Major’s voice, he found that will silenced. 

⧫⧫⧫

Leon had never imagined that the bare-bones barracks would be a welcome sight, but as the squad filed in that night, he found himself almost relieved to be back. Almost, because one person was missing. One bed wouldn’t be filled tonight . . . and likely not for many nights to come. 

The doc wanted to keep an eye on you, so Krauser had agreed that it was best for you to stay in the infirmary. For how long, Leon wasn’t sure. 

You’d been smiling when you left Fort Benning but now . . . 

Then again, so many of you had been smiling, and those smiles had died slow deaths behind bars, drowned and beaten away. 

And still, those weren’t the worst pains that had been suffered. Leon could see that much in his squad’s eyes as everyone settled in for the night. Krauser had tried to get everyone to eat some food on the doc’s advice. Leon, despite the starvation that had set in behind those bars after three days, had barely any appetite. 

How could he eat, when it was clear that this had all happened because Krauser had kept his word. He’d tried to get clearance the proper way to tell his men what happened in Raccoon City, just as Leon had asked him to. How could he eat with the knowledge of that settled on his shoulders? How could he force food down when he’d come so close to yet another change in his life? What would have happened if Krauser hadn’t gotten Hellman to let him stay? He’d been so quick to dismiss the thought of being discharged before but now, when faced with the real threat of it . . .

But it didn’t matter. He and Valeria had been spared that. 

Valeria, who had not eaten until Krauser ordered her to. Who had sat at that table, staring blankly into the food in front of her, looking up when she felt Leon’s eyes on her and then quickly looking away. Seeing her like that . . . even after three days of little food or sleep and too much pain, Leon was worried for her. What had they done to her to make her so empty now?

She gave up information about her squad. What information? What had she told them? 

Leon didn’t know. But the two of them didn’t eat much. The food was never any good, anyway, so their trays remained mostly untouched.

The same was true of most everyone else, and it felt like the tables in the mess hall were surrounded by ghosts more than people. That didn’t change now, as Leon and the others changed from their bloodied, dirty clothes. How many of them would be told tomorrow morning that their time here was at an end? That all their hard work, all their dedication and service would mean nothing? Leon slipped a fresh shirt on, his hands shaking, his mind well past fraying and set to unraveling instead.

He’d suffered worse. He had to remind himself of that. 

Keep it together. 

You get to stay. You’re not the one in pain. You’re not the one lying alone in a hospital bed. You’re not the one that will be stuck there for who knows how long- 

“How’s Sarge?” 

Alenko couldn’t have known the question would just further crack Leon’s resolve. He meant well in asking it. He cared enough to do it, even if the worry in his voice was beaten out by utter fatigue. Still, it made Leon frown because you were not fine, though you’d assured him otherwise. He knew that for damn sure. 

So, he just shook his head. “Hurting,” he answered simply, the word digging its hooks into him, barely assuaged by the words you’d spoken to him as he left the infirmary. 

“Leon,” you’d called after him. “It’s not your fault.” 

Didn’t change much, in Leon’s eyes. 

Alenko nodded, sitting on his bunk, the one next to Leon’s and shaking his head. “Why the fuck would they do that?” he wondered aloud, running a hand over his face. 

And then, finally, it was Valeria who spoke. For the first time since you’d all been freed. For the first time in a long while. “Because they knew you’re friends,” she murmured, like the words pained her, and Leon felt something drop in his gut. 

“Soto gave up information about her squad.”

Just as at dinner, Valeria wasn’t able to meet Leon’s eyes and that only made that feeling of dread worsen. 

“Valeria,” he breathed, and she clenched her jaw. 

“I told them,” she forced out, her bruised face drawn into an empty expression. Leon, in the meantime, couldn’t hide his expression of horror, the stab of betrayal in his gut. Familiar, that feeling. The difference was that Valeria was bad at hiding her guilt. “They asked about you two, so I told them you were friends.” She shook her head, no doubt feeling the weight of the rest of the squad listening in, Alejandro and Shinoda and Williams and all the rest staring at her in shock. Maybe that was what made her finally look towards Leon. “I didn’t think they’d . . .” 

His bottom lip trembled, his body giving him one last surge of energy. “Why?” he demanded, overcome with fear because if she’d told them anything else . . . if they knew-

Valeria met his eyes, though, and Leon was met with a side of her he never thought he’d see. He stilled as he saw her eyes shining, even as she tried to fight the tears back. “Because they had a letter from my mom, and they said they’d let me read it if I answered them.” Leon winced, not just for the sheer pain in Valeria’s voice but for the fact that they’d almost broken him in the same way. The letter from Sherry, the promise of knowing that she was okay . . . “I guess she’s sick. That’s what they led with and-” she cut herself off, shaking her head. Her voice wavered as she spoke again. “I’m sorry. Okay? I had to know she was okay.” 

Williams was at her side in an instant, wrapping an arm around the other woman’s shoulders. Or trying to. Valeria pushed her away, and Williams just bit her lip but ultimately let her have space. 

Leon could only stare. What else was there to do? Could he condemn Valeria for what he understood? Maybe, but when he’d come so close to answering their questions, to giving up Claire . . . he’d broken when the person he cared for most, the person he’d loved, had been in pain. 

How could he judge Valeria for that? 

“It . . .” he looked down, feeling like the world was spinning around him. “It’s okay.” How could he ask if she’d told them everything? How could he find out without letting everyone else in the barracks know what was between you and him? 

Valeria must have known his worries. Of course she would. “I didn’t tell them anything else,” she promised. She wasn’t talking just about the rest of the squad, he knew, but the secret she’d kept for him and for you. As Leon looked up at her, he found no reason to doubt her. “I keep my promises.” 

He believed her. It settled his nerves, albeit slightly. “Okay,” he nodded. 

The rest of the evening was spent in silence. Sleep came to him quickly when he lay his head down but was taken just as fast by the memories of screams from behind iron bars. A man pleading for help only to have his head crushed behind a gloved hand, his screams twisting and morphing until it wasn’t that man anymore. 

It was you. 

The sound of the man’s bones breaking became indistinguishable from your own. You were screaming and Leon could do nothing about it, reaching for you through the bars of his cell, unable to stop it. 

He awoke from the dream with a jolt, his damaged body protesting as he sat up in his cot. The room was dark, but with the light streaming in through the windows he could make out the shapes of his comrades as he looked around. Normally, he would look for you and even now, he felt his eyes go towards your bunk only to find it empty as expected. What he did see, though, just one bed over, was enough to make his heart ache. Williams’ bunk was beside yours, and the lamplight highlighted a muscled arm reaching out towards the opposite side. 

And a pair of hands joined together in the space between the two beds. 

If either Williams or Valeria were awake, Leon couldn’t tell. Either way, they held onto each other in the dark, and Leon smiled at the sight. 

A smile that turned bitter, because all he wanted in that moment was to be able to do the same with you. 

⧫⧫⧫

You didn’t really remember falling asleep, only that you were alone when you did. 

You didn’t stay that way. You were never alone in your dreams. Your comrades came to you, just as they always did. 

Dead faces, dead eyes. 

So many dead. 

So much pain. Pain as you felt ice in your throat that turned to water in your lungs. Frenzied fingers trying to rip you apart that turned to fists crashing into your face. A blow with a gloved hand coiling back and then connecting with your ribs . . . and a knife coming away dripping red, leaving broken flesh and bone behind it. 

That was all it took for you to wake, and that pain stayed with you as your ribs protested your movements. 

Broken.

They were broken. 

Were you broken too? 

“Knew you wouldn’t be asleep long.” You hadn’t expected to have company out of the dream. You hadn’t expected Major Krauser’s harsh voice to greet you when you woke. As it was, you blinked, your lips parting as you tried to push yourself up - tried not to cry out as you moved. 

Focus on something else. 

The sunlight coming in through the windows. 

The red of Krauser’s beret. 

The movement of the doc from the Major’s side to your own. 

He helped you sit up, murmuring for you to take it easy, kid. 

There were a few moments then, where the Doc checked in on you, helped guide you carefully back down on the bed, where you were reminded of a day not so long ago, and not so dissimilar to this one. A day where you’d awoken in a hospital bed with broken ribs and Major Krauser standing vigil over you. 

That first time, though, he’d looked happy to see you awake at last. Now . . . now he just looked tired. 

“Here,” the Doc tried to hand you some pills and a glass of water. Painkillers.

You shook your head. Pushed them away. “I’m fine.”

There was only a debate for a second or two before Krauser’s gruff voice interrupted. “Don’t be stupid,” he said, his arms crossed over his chest, looking into your eyes with worry. “Take the damn meds.” 

It wasn’t a request. So, you found yourself downing the water the Doc handed to you to wash the pills down. When you lay back down, you were struck with a feeling, one you had hoped never to experience again. 

Weakness. 

You hated Krauser’s concerned gaze, and you hated the thoughts that you imagined were lurking just behind that stare. Thoughts of how your injury would set you back. How you couldn’t fight, couldn’t train . . . because that was all you could think of, too. Even after Leon’s attempt at comfort last night. Comfort wasn’t what the Major would offer you now, though. You felt sure enough of that. Even more so when, after a moment, he shifted his weight and looked up at the other man in the room. 

“Give us a minute, Doc,” he murmured, and the grizzled medic just looked back at him with a nod. He left the room, and Krauser watched him go. The Major’s mouth was pressed into a frown, and he met your eyes with some effort. “How you holding up?” he asked. 

If you were feeling better, you might have given him a look. You might have made a little joke about how you were feeling just peachy. 

As it was, though, you just clenched your jaw. “I’m fine, sir.” 

Krauser’s brow lowered, but he didn’t contradict you. Didn’t tell you to stop bullshitting him. He just looked at you for a while longer before he growled, shaking his head and stepping off to the side. “Son of a bitch,” he hissed out, his fury poorly contained.

You wanted to tell him that his frustrations weren’t helping you, but you knew damn well this wasn’t just about you. 

“How is everyone else, sir?” you asked. No one else had been sent to join you last night, so you assumed that there were no serious injuries. Just you. That didn’t mean that everyone was alright, though. 

Krauser all but confirmed that with his eyes before he answered. “Tired,” he admitted. “Same as you.” 

Except not. 

Not the same, because you were stuck here. You were going to be stuck in the med bay while everyone else-

You’d already beaten that thought to death. No sense in carrying on with it. 

But still . . .

“Did you know?” you asked, your voice quiet. You looked up at him, and you hoped so sincerely that his answer lined up with the image you had of the Major in your mind. You hoped that all the times you defended his harsh methods to Leon weren’t about to be thrown back in your face. “Did you know they were going to do this?” 

Krauser’s answer was immediate. 

“No,” he shook his head, meeting your eyes. “No, I didn’t know. We came looking for you all when you missed the rendezvous. Found the Humvees abandoned. I thought it was Umbrella at first, but no. Just that bastard Hellman.” You’d had the privilege of seeing the Major lower his guard before. It had been in a hospital then, as now. It let you know that the regret in his voice was genuine. 

It was enough for you. 

“Okay. And Reed?” you asked, remembering the agent’s name. The man who’d broken your ribs for a second time. 

The man you, at present, most wanted to kill. Maybe because, in your dream, his face had morphed into an even more impassive mask, one with red lenses over the eyes. 

If Krauser’s tone was any sign, dead was about all he wanted Reed to be, too. It seemed neither of you would be getting what you wanted, though. “He and Hellman will be staying on base with us.” You’d never heard the Major quite so bitter as he spoke the next few words. Part of you had expected that, though. It was just the sort of cruelty you’d come to expect from the universe. “They’re going to be training you all, the fuckers.” 

“And you?” you found yourself asking, eyes wide because you didn’t want Krauser cast to the sidelines. Whatever complicated feelings you had about the Major right now, you were sure of that. 

Krauser’s face softened at your worry, and he shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. Just have to split the time between my shit and theirs. Orders from upstairs. Those were the terms.” 

“Terms?” you blinked but realized what the negotiation had been about.

“Yeah,” Krauser nodded, giving a bitter smile. “I got them to agree to hand over everything about Raccoon City, Finland, all of it. Everything they have on Umbrella and their bioweapons. They just needed to make sure they could ‘trust everyone getting the information’.” He shook his head, silently telling you that he thought the concept was bullshit. Or maybe it was the information itself. Maybe his frustrations were with more than just Reed and Hellman. Maybe the system as a whole. And maybe . . . “So they’ll know. The ones left, anyway. You can thank your rookie for that.” 

Even now, even with how much pain you were in, with all your worries pressing you into that hospital bed, you shook your head, finding it in you to defend Leon. “This isn’t his fault,” you said, your voice strong. Stronger than it had been in days, because you knew Leon should share none of the blame for this. 

Krauser’s eyes darkened and for a moment you thought he was going to fight you on it. So, you held his stare, trying to meet his conviction as best you could. Lying down was never a good way to put up a defense, but you did what you could.

And in the end, Krauser exhaled and nodded. “You’re right,” he said, but something in him had shifted. You could see it. “But that doesn’t change the fact that four of your squad will be sent home today.” 

Your eyes widened. Four. Four of you, no doubt those who had failed the “test”. 

“They wanted you gone, too,” he went on, and you felt your heart still, your blood chill. “You’re staying but . . . the calls on that aren’t mine to make anymore. They think someone isn’t a good fit, they send a note upstairs, you get reassigned. So you need to do everything you can to make them think you’ll be an asset if you want to stay, you understand? If you can’t train physically with the rest, you pay attention to what they teach you with all that spy shit. You learn everything you can, and you show them you need to be here.” 

You nodded, his words stoking something in you that you hadn’t been able to do for yourself. Fire. Determination. You knew he was right, and the thought of focusing on whatever those bastards had to teach you was better than the thought of sitting in a room for six weeks, letting your mind plague you. 

Krauser’s words were the spark. 

You didn’t feel better, you didn’t feel good, but you had a goal. You had something you could do, and that was almost enough for you to set aside the fact that you’d been dealt such a setback. 

You nodded, light returning to your eyes.

“I will.”

Krauser pursed his lips, and a slight shift in his expression was all the warning you were given. 

“You need to stop screwing around with the rookie, too.” 

Just a few words and that rekindled light died. 

You stared at Krauser dumbly, your mind stalling like a bullet had just gone through you and your body hadn’t quite realized it yet. 

“What?” 

Krauser didn’t look impressed by your confusion. “I’m not blind and you’re not subtle. Either of you.” 

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck-

“Reed and Hellman aren’t blind either,” Krauser went on, his eyes never leaving yours. “If they catch the two of you sneaking around, there will be consequences, and I’m losing enough men as it is.” 

You just continued to stare, feeling that old fear seeping back into you. He knew. Krauser knew. But the way he was looking at you . . . you couldn’t place the emotion on his face, even knowing him as well as you did. 

“I know that’s not what you wanna hear right now, but if you want to stay, if you want to take this fight to Umbrella, you can’t do it outside of STRATCOM and you can’t afford distractions.” 

If there was much of anything in your stomach, you might have felt like being sick because your secret was out. If it ever was a secret to begin with. You shouldn’t have been so stupid. You shouldn’t have done anything, you shouldn’t have given in to that need. Everything would have been easier that way, neither of you risking anything more than your lives. No risk of trouble . . .

But why hadn’t there been trouble? 

You looked up at Krauser after a moment, your new revelation pushing past the fear. “How long have you known?” 

Krauser, despite the disappointment you could discern in him, was still proving otherwise hard to read. He’d never looked at you like that before. Not that you could remember. “Since after assessments,” he admitted, and again you felt your stomach drop. So, that day when you and Leon thought you’d narrowly avoided a premature ending to things, he’d known. He’d known all this time and yet . . .

“Why didn’t you report it?” 

Krauser looked at you then, with that same strange expression. One you couldn’t really assign a name to. When he answered, his words were muted. Forced. “You think I wasn’t young and stupid, once? I know what it’s like to want that.” 

Was he . . .

“You’re going to fight shit the world’s never seen before,” he went on, and you could scarcely believe this was Jack Krauser you were talking to. “So long as it didn’t impact your judgment or your service, I don’t care who you’re fucking. You wanted to screw around with the pretty boy?” he spat the nickname bitterly, not with the same teasing affection you would use. “Fine. But these men will not share that opinion with me, I can guarantee you that.” 

Your throat felt constricted, your brow tied in knots. He . . . he was right. He was right but god, you didn’t want him to be. You couldn’t let Leon just slip through your fingers. 

But you may need to. 

“Don’t be stupid because it feels good,” Krauser advised, his words still quiet. “The earlier you learn that lesson, the better.” 

Again, you were silent, because that was all you could be. You looked away from the Major. The man who’d saved your life, who you respected more than any other man alive. The man who kept his gaze on you, just as unknowable. Just as strange. He knew there was nothing else to say, just as you did. 

“Get some rest,” he said, just as he had the night before. 

Then he was gone, leaving you to feel more alone than you’d been in a long time. 

⧫⧫⧫

Andersen. Shinoda. Lawson. Osborn. 

Those were the four that Krauser called to speak with the next day. The four that had broken. The four that would be gone, come tomorrow. 

They weren’t people that Leon was close with. Not really. But he’d trained with them. Lived with them. Learned from them. And because Reed and Hellman deemed it so, they would be sent back to wherever they came from. Leon watched them go, knowing full well what would happen to them. What could have happened to him. Had they been spared, in the long run? They would never have to know the horrors that awaited the rest of them. Was it better to have broken? 

No. Not for him. Not for you. 

So he held his head up as Hellman stepped in front of the squad - what remained of it. Eleven where there had been fifteen. “The Major and I agreed that you be given today to rest and recuperate,” he said, and Leon’s eyes hardened at the mere sound of his voice, and his body tensed. Like it was bracing for what was to come. “Tomorrow, we will begin.” 

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Chapter Index

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Been very busy this week (and also brainrotting over Dune Part 2, cause damn). Writing vibes for this one were "Major Crimes" by HEALTH, "So Far" by Ólafur Arnalds, "In Between" by James Marriott and "Heal" by Loreen (special shoutout to my lovely readers for the last two as recommendations!)

[susie-dreemurr]

Fuga Impossível: A story summary for The Gringos

I’ve been seeing people (mostly non-BR) get confused over Cellbit and Tazercraft’s references to their old prison break series, Fuga Impossível, (Impossible Escape) which is canon to their character in QSMP. As they discuss it in some story parts, including Cell’s recent letter to the boys, I thought that it’d be helpful to do a little summary! This is basically the Tazercraft wiki page for the “enredo” (plot) but translated and with a few differences.

Plot summary, from beginning to end, below:

Pac and Mike planned to infiltrate a museum in a big city to steal a valuable diamond, the plan being Mike's. However, almost at the end of the mission, the police end up finding and arresting them, and Pac and Mike are taken to the police station, where they are questioned by Detective Marrone, who makes them give themselves up and sends the two to sleep in prison. Upon waking up, Pac discovers that Mike has knocked out a guard, so the two decide to escape via a helicopter, but are caught by Marrone. Not even the efforts of Pac and Mike's lawyer, trying to clear them of the charges, reversed the situation; Pac and Mike end up being taken to the great prison of Alcatraz.

Arriving there, they are introduced to the prison director, Davi, and see the prisoner J.V trying to escape, but he is quickly recaptured and taken to the cell, which is next to Pac and Mike. The three end up becoming friends, and later, while staying overnight, they meet Cell (Cellbit), another prisoner (so called by the cell phone he carries) with many contacts, who offers them money and protection. It is noted however, that J.V distrusts Cell due to his dangerous and violent ways.

Pac, Mike and J.V start making their prison break plan; they intended to use a pickaxe stolen by Pac and Mike in the mining area, swapping it for a plastic one made by J.V, and escaping through the toilet pipe. Unknowingly for them, Cell overheard everything that was said and tells Pac and Mike not to trust J.V. It turns out that Cell then sends the police officer Felps to search the cell of the two for the pickaxe, but he does not find it. Cell then confronts them, saying that he wants to run too; Pac, Mike and J.V reluctantly agree.

They set the escape date for the next day, but on the same day, J.V, who was in solitary confinement, escapes, and makes a hole in Pac and Mike's cell, with the intention of starting the escape before and thus avoiding Cell. When J.V tries to plug the hole he made, Cell surprises him, stabs him and, after getting them to show him the location, betrays Pac and Mike, fleeing alone in the minecarts (later it would be seen that Cell was caught by the guards). At J.V's funeral, Mike finds a letter, where Jv says he suspects Cell, and tells them to look for his companion Guaxinim (Racoon), a very sneaky prisoner. They speak with Raccoon, who agrees to join them. Pac, Mike and Raccoon go to Cell's solitary cell, but discover that he has already been released. They then decide to go to Cell's cell to steal his cell phone. Arriving there, they try to steal the cell phone, but Cell finds them. However, Raccoon discovers that the cell phone has no signal, and Cell threatens to kill them if they tell anyone.

Pac and Mike decide to use the money (given by Cell when they entered the prison) to pay a prison gang to scare Cell. However, the gang they paid off (Rayquaza) was actually Cell's own gang. Pac, Mike, and Raccoon decide to tell Guard Felps about Cell's cell phone not having a signal, but Cell kills Felps and steals his gun. Then there is a gang fight between Rayquaza and a rival Cell gang, and the other prisoners take the opportunity to make a rebellion. Pac, Mike and Raccoon take advantage of the situation to escape and Raccoon reveals that J.V took advantage of his escapes to build a raft for them to flee and would take Raccoon along in exchange for protection. They find the raft, but Cell (who overheard the three's conversation) surprises them, making them take him.

The four leave Alcatraz Island, but the raft that Jv designed starts to sink because it was only designed for three people. Pac, Mike, Raccoon and Cell then decide to stop on an island. Raccoon was an engineer, so he was assigned the role of repairing the raft and discovers that even if he fixes it, it will still only hold three people. With that, Cell, who has a gun, lets the 3 decide which of them will die. Raccoon later checks his gun and discovers that it only has one bullet — Raccoon then starts to repair the raft, but everyone is starving (except Cell who had gotten some apples from a tree and Raccoon), and Pac and Mike believe Cell would be feeding Raccoon just because he knows how to fix the raft. Suddenly, a police helicopter appears; the group manages to hide the raft in a nearby cave without being seen, and a short time later the helicopter leaves the island. Meanwhile, Cell manipulates Pac, Mike, and Raccoon into thinking they are betraying each other. Mike, who took Cell's knife, stabs Pac, but Raccoon appears and the situation is cleared up. With the three of them knowing this, they trick Cell into thinking that Pac and Raccoon wanted to sacrifice Mike. The three go to a cave to make the plan, but Cell discovers the lie and presses the button at the entrance to the cave, thinking of locking the three there, but the button locked Cell himself in a trap. Cell threatens to kill them with the gun, but Raccoon tells him to keep the bullet for himself. Pac, Mike, and Raccoon exit through a hole behind the cave, abandoning Cell. On the way to the raft, they hear a shot fired by Cell (it is not known if he committed suicide). Finally, Pac, Mike and Raccoon leave the island on the raft, making an impossible escape

[jacklucian2000]

Leon Kennedy x Luis Serra

Serennedy smut ♡

Luis was trapped within the bars of his confines. His eyes glazed over the other scientists who, much like him, were trapped here to die. If it was only death that waited for him. But it wasn't. He overheard his prison guards talking, he always did. He was deaf in their eyes and incapable of understanding their speech. They planned to torture him first. He had two things they wanted; a crystalized piece of a parasite he was working on and a cure to the disease they were spreading. If he could, just could, save his friends then maybe he could forgive himself for letting his hometown fall to ruin. For his home to burn, for his family to die, to let Raccoon City die, to help Umbrella strive, to kill his heart. A heart only beats when it's connected to the veins of its home. He could've saved them but he fell to snares of evil. He felt so betrayed and used. The way they made him feel so special on that assignment, he felt guilty to wish for more of it. He had no one to blame but himself for falling for such a destructive cult. He prayed to his god to be forgiven, to be granted a second chance, and thus Ada was sent to him. He would again devote his life to god, even if it ended in a chair or a moldy cell. His thoughts froze as footsteps approached his door. He didn't know what to expect but he was scared. These barbaric Neanderthals didn't stop at chains or whips, they continued to iron chairs, heated metal, empulgueras, y más. He backed away from the door and then shouted.

"Luis?" A familiar voice spoke.

"¡¿Qué?!" Él lloró, "¡¿No podrían tus trabajadores imbéciles darme una celda de mierda limpia?!"

"Leon?!" Luis lost control and began to cry. "Los cultistas iban a atarme y azotarme, quemarme y romperme los dedos." Leon was dumbfounded.

"Oh well, the cultists will be dying... soon. Any updates? In English please." He improvised. He knew Spanish just not whatever Luis was saying.

"Excuse me but a teacher from Mexico taught me English so I'm sorry if her bad Spanish transmitted to me." Leon looked aside. He learned about American racism but he never considered Spanish speakers being racist.

"Well? What's your status on the cure?"

"In progress..." Luis felt guilty for it being so late, "I am waiting for someone. So it might be a while."

"I'm waiting for someone too." Luis perked up.

"Who?"

"I sent Ashley run an errand."

"While sick?" Luis snarled.

"She can handle herself surprisingly well."

"I see... Well, I maybe have twenty minutes until my... accomplish arrives, so I have nothing to do but wait until the guards come."

"If there are any more." Leon sarcastically responded. Their dead bodies littered the front of the dark room. Leon shone his flashlight.

"Then that leaves us to wait for Ashley."

"For probably twenty minutes too."

"Yes..." Luis looked away. "We could try to pass time."

"In a maybe touchy way?" Luis folded at Leon's words.

"Yes." He let out. He straddled Leon and began to kiss him while swaying back and forth. He felt Leon's arousal harden. His mouth was too occupied for words. His hands reached down but Leon caught them and then flipped their positions. Luis lay helplessly under Leon, their kiss now broken.

"Let's make it quick. Pull down your pants. We'll do doggy position." Luis obeyed. He didn't want to be caught in such a compromising position. Leon pulled out his cock and Luis looked back to watch it slowly fold out. Luis's ass was in the air, his body weight on his forearms and knees. He felt a strong hand on his upper back forcing him down. He grunted intentionally to strike arousal in Leon. He could hear his heavy breath. Leon pulled out a water pouch. the water poured out onto his fingers not effectively lubing them. His hands lost moisture quickly but after the first few minutes, Luis was wet enough to enter. Leon pressed the tip slowly entering. Luis moaned lowly. Even if he was faking his moans the pressure on his throat let out aroused huffs. Leon quickened his pace. He poured water on his cock as it slid in and out. The cantine fell to the ground and Leon hunched over to kiss Luis's neck, his hands searched around underneath his jacket and shirt. His fingers pinched and caressed Luis's nipples. His cock rubbed against Luis's prostate. It was like an itch being scratched but a kind that sent vibrations through your stomach. Luis panted and moaned as Leon's hard-on hit against his prostate. Luis felt him reach a climax that was strong enough to shake his legs. As they shook he released semen below on the floor. Leon kept hitting it, Luis was frozen in a moment of ecstasy until Leon pulled out. He slapped his ass then pulled his pants back. Luis smiled with a pout. He dressed back up and then fell into Leon's arms.

"You're very good."

"I'd enjoy it more if we weren't so pressed on time."

"I feel the same." Luis sighed. Only if it wasn't their last time with their bodies intertwined.

[forgotten-retrouvaille]

🔄 +STARS

She received the offer , a few years ago , but hadn't entirely chosen to take it up. Maybe another time , she would have considered it - but she'd just gotten started in Delta , and didn't particularly want to leave so soon . Plus , she'd found some sort of family among the other few soldiers in her unit, and even some outside of it - Krauser was one good example.

Jill's grown quite notorious around the units - the only woman that Delta Force employed , and one of the very few that even got the honour of completing their training . She was much younger than most of her fellow soldiers - but she hadn't let that stop her , and she was well known for her capability , her marksmanship and her extraordinary skills when it came to infiltration , breaking and entering , and E.O.D. Any unit was lucky to have her join them for a mission, and she always did what she could for them .

They're the first to get called . She isn't surprised - being one of the most skilled special forces in the world , trained for sensitive missions just like this one , things like this were bound to get their assignments . What does surprise her though, is that she gets put onto the strike team - with her age, she hadn't been expected to be assigned , but she had. Something about a biohazardous situation in some town in the Midwest - Raccoon City , or something like that . The whole national government is in a state of panic , she'd overheard the calls while rushing to gear up , throwing on her usual protective wear and firearms , grabbing her E.O.D kits and lockpick sets .

It's not long before she's on the helicopter with the rest of the strike team and they're clearing out of Fort Liberty - it was going to be a long flight , but she busies herself with checking her gear over . Not many of the soldiers are talking on their way there , but one playfully nudges her shoulder , giving her a small nod . She returns it , but her mind is focused on where she's going .

They touch down under cover of night , she's handed what she's been told is an experimental weapon , a railgun developed by the U.S military a long while ago . Sword of Paracelsus, is what she's told , and she straps it onto her back with a nod.

Then it's swirling rotor blades and quietly spoken orders and they're off at a brisk pace - they had no need for the yelling orders of the Army , all of them always worked like clockwork and didn't need anyone to tell them when and where. It isn't long before they enter through the subway tunnels of the city - it's dead quiet , way too quiet for her liking. Her rifle is held tight in her hands , she glances around expecting anything she can . There's this feeling that unsettles her deep in her bones and she can't place it , but it's soon dismissed .

Their orders are to reach Dr. Birkin's facility . The building that juts out ahead after a few hours of exploration definitely doesn't look like a scientific institution . Tall , industrial and littered with garbage and unnamed debris , this isn't where they're meant to be. Their directions had been falsified , and Jill's the first to catch the helicopter lights blinking above them, and she just barely yells out a warning before boots hit the ground and she's stumbling back , her eyes widening as she stares at whatever had just dropped down .

Ashen skin , thick , leather coat , there was something so horrifically human about these five eight foot tall monsters that she can't shake off . They're advancing on her team , and she raises her rifle to her shoupder and lets loose a barrage of bullets that all hit her mark , but the most they do is slow a few down .

Her squadron captain is the first to die .

He's thrown against a post , and she can hear his spine crack. One of the monsters subsequently stomps down on the rest of him ; and that was that .

Jill had felt fear before , but it was nothing like this . Her pulse was racing , her heart was beating and she's tossing her rifle aside and rushing to pull one of her wounded friends out of combat and back into the subway , she presses a button on her earpiece and she's calling for extraction but all she hears is static .

A strong fist and she's thrown backward . She can taste blood in her mouth and she's dizzy , but she can't die here . Jill reaches back towards her for the railgun on her back - she wasn't going to lie down and play dead for whatever these were . She places it dowm in front of her , draws in a sharp breath and fires , her eyes closing for a moment . Again and again, she can hear the cries of her soldiers as they're lost to her , she's breathing hard and all she can do is hope that this will kill them .

The dust clears , she's holding a hand to her side where she's been impaled with some rusty metal spike from all the shit the railgun displaced with every fire , and there are several smoking holes in the incineration plant . The Tyrants are either collapsed , dead on the ground or nowhere to be seen , and her chest tightens as she limps over to the bodies of what used to be her squadmates .

She knows this , the loss that came with this career . But she can't stop herself from the heartbreak nontheless , and she can barely get the words out through gritted teeth and bloodied hands to call for extraction for one . She's already becoming delirious from blood loss , and she knows she isn't in a state to reach that facility , and they aren't able to evacuate the dead here . Jill's swaying on her feet , and it takes everything in her to take the dogtags from her fallen squadmates , wrap them tightly around her hand , and turn away in order to limp her way to the extraction point they soon designate .

She needs medical attention , and badly , but on the way - she sets her mouth and presses a tongue to the roof of it because otherwise , she'll grieve , and she can't do that here.

[silverghcst]

❝ leave it alone. you are out of your depth. ❞  

Prompt - @iknowwhataradiois

The cracks within Raccoon City were already beginning to appear, paper thin and yet sharp all the same. A looming threat hanging above the clouds, threatening to thunder and shatter the glass. Everyone had just about cleared out for the night, Leon one of the only exceptions, finishing up some last minute reports before running to deliver them to the chief. Except, the chief was preoccupied, voices carrying down the stairwell he had been climbing. Heated shouts bounced off of wood walls and high vaulted ceilings. Umbrella, the Arklay Mountains, suspension, wrapped up in neat little bows, tying a question to each end.  

Firm intent to sweep all of it under the rug, to never have the public hear a word of it. Take time off. It sends his mind reeling. Leon, even with his brand new badge and uniform, the rookie in training, had his eyes rudely opened to how amiss the police station had become. There’s the slam of a door, hurried steps clicking against marble, and he sees her, one of the S.T.A.R.S officers, Jill Valentine.  

He had to be fast to catch up to her, even faster to explain himself, only to be told to stay out of it. He was out of his depth. And she was right, with only having a week of experience to his name. A wolf in sheep’s clothing was implied to lurk within the herd. Appearing more as a shepherd, as the guiding light for the city, the cure for the disease. If what he overheard was the truth, how could he ever hope to fight against that?  

But it just wasn’t in him to leave it alone.

“I can’t do that. I’m not going to just walk away and pretend I didn’t hear anything,” Staying firm, not backing down from the clear warning, from an officer who knew more than him, “I didn’t mean to pry, but I heard enough of your conversation with the chief. If you could even call it that. It... Struck me the wrong way, of how dismissive he was of your case.” 

There was more to this story, something much bigger than the both of them waiting to strike from the shadows. Eyes dart around the near empty station, suddenly all too aware of anyone who could be listening, as his voice lowers considerably for her ears alone. 

“I want to know what the hell is going on around here, why he shut you down like that, why the incident in the Arklay Mountains is being buried.” 

“I just... I just want to help.” 

[freewillacquired]

Eight had been lucky to stumble upon a rat nest, even if the rats were... less than desirable. But food was still food, and they were not about to give up their find of fresh meat, as meager morsels as those rats were. It would tide them over for a little while, at least, while they continued to scavenge what else they could find, and that was enough for them.

They were scarfing down their catches when they heard the sound of something large approaching, and Eight spun around with a crocodilian-like hiss - their jaws snapping together as they stood protectively over a couple more rats. They stayed on all fours, not quite ready to reveal their full height just yet, and their broad tail swung behind them with another hiss as the large, humanoid figure came around the corner. Their mind torn between fleeing as quickly as they could to avoid serious injury, and staying to protect their catches. They knew it wasn't worth the risk, yet...

No. They would not leave so easily, but they would see what he did first.

With a guttural snarl, Eight snapped their jaws together again as a warning as they crouched over the rats, but didn't budge from their spot. Their head turned slightly so they could watch with their one good eye to see what the big fellow decided to do. Because, for the hell around them, he seemed different from the other monsters that stalked the streets.

(( @ofmonstrs - since I changed Eight's info, idk if you still want to say they and Matt knew each other before Matt became Nem? InGen could've teamed up with Umbrella for one thing or another and Eight could've been stuck in Raccoon City when all hell broke loose, so either they could've helped Matt try to escape before they were separated in the mansion like we originally planned, or maybe Matt learned of them while being experimented on himself?))

@ofmonstrs | { Hmm... yeah, we can go with them trying to help Matt before the whole Raccoon City deal but then they were separated. And then hey, why not, he also overheard some stuff about them while in the laboratory. Because that would help him connect the two dots, heh. }

Nemesis was just trying to get the hell out of there. The city was going to hell, and Umbrella planned to nuke it soon, if the still-ticking military orders on his visual overlay were any indication. Raccoon City was doomed, and as much as he wanted to help its residents, most of them were dead - or undead - by now anyway. Those few who weren't, certainly weren't looking to him for help at all.

The streets were empty where he was now. Well, sort of. Despite the devastation of having been turned into a mutated mess, there were certain advantages to it. The virus within him gave him different senses of things. When there were healthy, living humans about. When there were infected ones. When there were undead ones. When there was a huge dinosaur dining on a nest of rats right in front of hi-

Wait, what?

Nemesis stopped dead in his tracks. Is that really a freaking dinosaur?! But as his retinal implant went to work identifying the creature before him, he came to a realization. He paused to read the information from Umbrella as it came up on his visual overlay.

ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴛᴇsᴛ sᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛ HT-8-3-1 sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍʙɪɴᴀɴᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏʀᴀᴘᴛᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀssɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ 6 ʙɪᴏ-ᴏʀɢᴀɴɪᴄ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ ᴀғғɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ɪɴɢᴇɴ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴀssᴇᴛ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴀʀᴍᴇᴅ [ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴʀʏ] ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ: ʜɪɢʜ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴏɴ sɪɢʜᴛ

Yeah, that's not going to happen, Nemesis thought regarding the orders being handed down by Umbrella. You don't control me anymore. Not only that, but he wasn't sure he'd win in a fight against that sort of creature. Maybe he wouldn't have to, though, because he knew this creature... if only they still remembered him...

"Eight...?" he tried, standing as non-threateningly as he could manage and waiting to see if they might remember him or at least acknowledge. Well, no, they wouldn't remember him. Not looking like this. But maybe... did he smell at all the same? The virus might have caused his scent to change, but surely there was still some of his original scent as a human mixed in?

[ladyantiheroine]

Leon, while staring at Ada’s extensive criminal record: Ada Wong has never done anything wrong in her life ever.

[ineffabildaddy]

part 2 is up now!

You disappeared, darling. I thought you might. At the club in London, I overheard rumours. Of a man who was sometimes a woman, or a woman who was sometimes a man, with curls of crimson and the tongue of a serpent. An eternal bachelor, a willing spinster, equal parts cold-blooded and dulcet, always earthy and never a whore. I knew it must be you, dearest. I scuttled over cobbled streets, perambulated pond-adorned squares. Pulled muscles in my neck peering down sunless alleyways. All I found was a city-wide aching for you, the severity of which still did not begin to touch the tugging gravity of my own yearning. That, and a practically illegible letter, abandoned, free of its envelope, on a bench in St. James's Park, the final paragraph of which read: Red-haired gentleman made off with the winnings. I believe she he fled south-west. I cannot, I must not, follow.

read more on ao3!

@foolishlovers @bowtiepastabitch @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @tangerine-ginger @greenthena @and-his-hands-were-24-crows @amagnificentobsession @iammyownproblematicfave @ineffable-rohese @cottagecore-raccoon @crowleyholmes @createserenity @queer-reader-07 @nimbusalba @adverbian @ingenio-ira @idliketobeatree @eybefioro @dontbotheraziraphale @lolalu16 @marika-misc @ineffable-rohese @captainblou @eybefioro

pls lmk if u want to be added or removed from my taglist!

take me as your wife (E, 1.9k) by ineffabildaddy

You reached for my glass to pour me some wine, and in doing so, brushed my hand for a half-second with your ring finger. Only, it was not the back of my palm that you brushed, but my sloping knuckles; this is when I knew that it was the cut of my jaw you really wanted to touch, that you had chosen to indicate you wanted it with the finger used by many to display the glinting vow of marriage. You poured, and I watched, and the tranquil waters of your eyes stilled their rippling before me, and you were swiftly and silently taking me as your wife. At long last and yet far too soon, only for tonight and yet once and for all, in a century which was at once so impatiently modern and so soothingly traditional.

Or: In the 1750s, Crowley stumbles upon Aziraphale at a country inn, away from the hustle and bustle and the prying eyes of London town. The most romantic of afternoons ensues.

cover art by the gorgeous @portraitofalonelydyke, the person to whom this work is dedicated. taglist under cut!

tagging (no pressure to read!): @celestialcrowley@foolishlovers @bowtiepastabitch @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @tangerine-ginger @greenthena @and-his-hands-were-24-crows @amagnificentobsession @iammyownproblematicfave @ineffable-rohese @cottagecore-raccoon @crowleyholmes @createserenity @queer-reader-07

[bnhxx]

A little something that’s been kept up in my drafts for wayy too long now! I this post on @hex-touchstarved and I was like, this!! I’m running with this one and then promptly lost all motivation to continue it nnsdjkfjkf

Character: Leon S Kennedy (Resident Evil, Dead by Daylight)

Ship: Leon S Kennedy x Reader

Genre: Suggestive themes, but not too spicy!! 18+, minors DNI

Warnings: Not too much about from the suggestive themes, a bit of humiliation? It goes both ways tho 😳

Something was wrong. Most of the time, this would hardly come as a surprise; you were stuck in an endless torture realm. But today your fear wasn't placed in the next killer you were facing off in trials.

It was the way you woke up from your....less than pure dream with a certain raccoon city police rookie, only to a hear rustling that was far too noisy for the occasional crow. The type of rustling that you hear right before a fellow survivor crawls over to help you finish a gen. To help you heal from your dying state in a precarious position... Someone was there? You let out a groan as you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind-surely you weren't too loud, were you? God, imagine if you'd called his name out loud.... Best to clean up and find the survivor yourself before your thoughts continued to make that blush on your face deepen.

You peeled out from the makeshift camp area over to the dim light of the fire. You were betting that if anyone heard you, which you were definitely sure by now that someone did, their reaction would say a lot if you locked eyes with them in particular. Jesus, you really couldn’t catch a break here, could you?

As your eyes scanned to faces around the campfire, you recognised a couple of missing faces-Ace, David, Nea and Yui were missing from the group- the next trial must have happened right after the last.

Jake also wasn't present-God, does that mean it was Jake who overheard your little dream? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Jake is silent as a mouse crawling around the forest. If he did overhear you, you'd probably never hear anything from it again from him-but the thought of his disappointed glances made you slink back into yourself a bit.

"Oh, there you are! We were just sharing tips by the fire while you were gone," Kate's voice called you from your investigation.

You took a seat in between Kate and Claudette. Claudette offered you a kind smile, and nodded to the conversation at the fire.

"That new pair Leon and Jill just got back from their trial a while back," Your back stiffened at the mention of Leon's name. Again, your eyes glazed over the survivors frantically- a few gave you a nod, most were busy sharing tips to notice you, and Leon, the man who had all but occupied your dreams last night-

Leon was smirking at you.

You inwardly cursed at your luck. They said Leon had just returned, maybe....No, they returned a while ago. The only reason you'd left the campsite to go to your tent and take care of some...stress management was because you knew the man that had been the cause of your sexual frustration was in trial. You must have fell asleep some time after, and then.... Good God, it really was Leon who caught you, wasn’t it? And if his smug ass face was anything to go by, he didn’t mind it one bit. 

"Everything alright there? Leon went to check and see if you had gone far, but you were just asleep," Claudette's soft voice pulled you from your frantic thoughts, and you managed to compose yourself and turn to give the healer a smile.

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm still waking up from that good dream, I guess," You turned to look to Leon directly as you said it, raising an eyebrow when his cheeks reddened and he averted your intense gaze. Claudette, sensing the tension between you and the rookie, offered you a nervous chuckle. You turned back to her and continued to speak to clear the awkward tension that had settled between the three of you.

"I suppose it was about time I woke up, though. How did the last trial go?" Relieved, Claudette gave a soft sigh. Having caught on to Claudettes discomfort, Kate began to fill you in on the last trial.

Maybe you should be more embarrassed about this, but...if only Leon didn't react the way he did, maybe your reactions would've been different. So the rookie wants to dish it but can't take it? Such a blushing schoolboy. It made you want to see how much of your teasing he’d stand. He’d have a good idea of it depending on how long he was listening into your frisky little dream.

Well. Maybe making him keep his mouth shut wouldn't be so much of a hassle for you after all. A familiar voiced perked up from Leon's side of the campfire.

"Actually, maybe now that your here you can teach Leon that handy perk of yours," Jill was, in fact, walking up to your little group at this moment, said rookie in tow. He looked a bit like a puppy being told off behind her, now that you think about it.

You nodded to them both. If Jill was giving you an opportunity to talk out your mortifying experience out with Leon, you were ready. Hell, maybe you didn't even have to be worried about it. He was biting his lip now, but straightened himself with a cool expression as you caught his gaze again. Good. You’d managed to brush your embarrassment off well enough to face him, you think. You weren't harming anyone with a simple dream- it was his fault for deciding to be a peeping tom.

"Sure thing!" Jill smiled, and brought you closer to pat your back. As she did, she whispered just loud enough for you to hear.

"He's been bugging me about you since we got here, you know," You blinked as you pulled back, and Jill took your seat. Oh? This was news. You held back a satisfied smirk, and cleared your throat. You turned to meet Leon's wry smile.

"Lets get going, yeah? I'll need some space to demonstrate this one," He nods his face still slightly flushed, and gestures for you to take the lead.

You can still feel Jill's smug grin burning into your back even as the two of you moved away from the chatter of the campfire.

------

"You're a quick learner, Leon," he gives a sheepish smile, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.

"What can I say? I have a damn fine teacher," You chuckle, at as your laughter slowly dies down there is an inexplicable weight in the forest. Leon clears his throat, and when you look back at him he's wearing that same smirk he wore at the campfire. He takes a step closer to you, and you feel your spine straighten. You have to stop yourself from taking a step back.

"You know, it's inappropriate to be having those kinds of dreams about your students. Calling their name out like that...you might have to give me some extra classes if that’s how your planning these lessons out," You let out an audible breath to silence the curses your dying to let out. God, you even called out his name?! Suddenly the patterns embedded into your shoes look a whole lot more interesting.

A part of you kind of still hoped it wasn't him who caught you uttering his name in the heat of your dream, that it was just some noisy bird rustling around near your tent. You couldn't help but blush- he'd at least had the dignity to call you out alone. He’d taken this moment of boldness to walk up closer to your figure- when you looked back up, he was right in front of you. His eyes held a light mirth, and that shit eating grin was plastered so pretty on his face- you kind of wanted to kiss him right then and there, embarrassment aside- surely that would shut him up-

"I can keep a secret, y'know. For a price,"

Ooh, he's been such a tease, acting all cocky and daring to make you feel uncomfortable for having a wet dream about him. Who did he think you were, some horny flustered teenager?

No. You were owning up to it, here and now. Playing on this whole fawn act was getting boring quick. With a raised eyebrow and sly grin, you closed the distance between the two of you. You let out a triumphant hum as you heard his breath hitch. Gently, you guided his chin closer to your lips and kissed him. He let out a yelp, but kissed you back so eagerly it was like he was the one who'd been fantasizing about this in his dreams.

You parted with him and he frowned at the innocent smile you gave him in return. You snaked your hands up to his hair, giving it a soft tug as Leon relented with a groan. Gently craning his neck to the side, you kissed his skin gently at his neck.

"This wasn't quite what I had in-oh!" You bit down, gently sucking on his neck. The complaint must’ve died on Leon's tongue, because all that was left was the cute, soft whimpers you’d heard in your dreams. Much better. A hickey ought to shut him up for now. After kissing the now reddened mark on his neck, you pulled back with a grin.

"Its what I had in mind. In fact-why don't we skip to those-extra classes-and I show you exactly what we did in my dream? Since I know-you're more than just a voyeur," You suggested in between kisses.

"Uh-yeah!- I-I mean, yeah, sure..." He managed to stammer out in between your kisses to his chin, neck, collarbones. So cute.

If the flustered blush and soft whines were anything to go by, you'd say you did a pretty good job of shutting him up.

[mandalhoerian]

NO TIME TO DIE | leon kennedy x oc | 1

pairing: leon s. kennedy x oc word count: 6K~ warnings: graphic descriptions of gore and violence, mentions of type-1 diabetes, negative thoughts, slight mention of suicide, its resident evil you get it chapter summary: A private investigator who digs graves instead of information almost gets shot in the head by a rookie cop who was ordered to stay away from the city, and somehow it's salvation. READ ON AO3 ! CH. 2 ☆ NO TIME TO DIE MASTERPOST

The last quarter of September in Raccoon City brought as a present the purifying smell of rain blessing the soil, Vera knew its name — petrichor, the kind neighbor lady Sarah Lakin who grew vegetables in her own apartment calls it as such, and Vera had no reason to doubt; her hands always smelled fresh and earthy with a permanent thin line of rich black soil underneath her nails, the taste of the dishes she brought over for monthly neighborhood get-togethers could be found absolutely nowhere else. All-organic is the name of the spell she said she cast as Vera was busy stuffing her mouth with peach cobbler, and her kind eyes sparkled with that magic she was talking about too. The eleven year old Vera was fascinated with the knowledge (and the peaches, before she had to be forced to take her insulin, that is). 

The last time she saw Sarah, the woman's fingers were coated with blood, her usual neatly trimmed nails torn and gnawed on — nauseating smell of long-forgotten meat in a broken freezer oozed from her instead of the green freshness,  her eyes milky and glazed over. All-organic products, in the end, did near to nothing for her flesh falling apart, unable to stick to her bones anymore. 

The irony of her being vegan was not lost on the girl. She’d returned from death with the same primal hunger for raw meat as the others. Deep past the horrors of the apocalypse and dead men walking, somewhere beyond the point of acceptance and apathy, it was morbidly wrong to see the woman’s own principles twisted like this as if it was hell’s own punishment itself. Vera grimly wondered where she was searching for a bite of human flesh right now. If she’s lucky, someone would have come along to put her out of her misery already. 

The poor bastards she is trying to bury in the middle of a downpour are fortunate in that sense, if she dared to look at it from a half-full glass sort of perspective, at least. Marvin told her to close her heart to it and not think about how she knew every single person in the police station she opens a grave for, so she was trying to.  

Unfortunately, she remembered. The names of all the poor souls she had to bury were etched into her soul.

Vera supposed she was desensitized to everything by now, the only scary truth remaining to her was how fast she ended up adapting to survive in such an extreme situation and lost her empathy in the process. Her body didn’t want to wail and cry anymore, so it had turned that part in her off completely, as easy as turning the lights off. She was on autopilot, (unfeeling, insensitive, a hole in her very being in the shape of a grave where her heart is supposed to beat), having accepted there’s not much she could do for anyone other than fulfill the final duty to their mortal remains. Handling the role of the gravedigger allowed more room for other officers to do their jobs, so she gladly had taken it. (To the bitter end.)

It’s haunting now that she felt absolutely nothing, it didn’t even seem real what she was doing right now. The man she all but had kicked in the hole, Jonathan Alberta, is a drunken father of two who regretted not being there emotionally for his children back in the day, she’d overheard when he was over at her old house with Marvin at dead of night one day, sobbing to his coworker about wanting to undo his mistakes, to undo how he treated them in the past. She had listened to him being such a proud dad about their achievements, his only humble complaint was wishing he’d been there in the commemorative photos, too, with big congratulatory bouquets in hand and their favorite chocolates (April loved Kit-Kat Senses, and Archie, Cadbury’s Fuse) in full cartons as the prologue to the presents he wanted to give them.. 

He had wandered off in delirium chasing his supposed children the last he was sane, despite the fever and the infected wound, nobody could stop him from going off on his own, an elephant straying off its herd to die quietly.  

When he came back, it had taken two bullets to the noggin to put him to rest. Around the time that happened, Vera hadn’t given up on running around the station in order to fix the comm equipment until the last moment, she wasn’t there to witness the carnage. It had broken her just the same, though. Marvin was of the same opinion it was for the better she didn’t see him that way. 

Sweet was how she remembered Jonathan. He gave Vera the best candies in moderate amounts just so she could at least have a taste, knowing she felt bad about not being able to eat to her heart’s content because of her diabetes — one out of ten times leading to an insulin shot afterwards but man was it worth it. He was the best door to trick or treat. Best customer for girl scout cookies, too. They say this was his way of coping since his wife used to lock the pantry to keep the children out so they didn’t eat unnecessarily and barely allowed them snacks, he kept a stash with him just in case but could never stand up to her, only left with searching for the lowest calorie alternatives so she wouldn’t throw a fit.  

To his very last moments as human, he had supplied the young survivors who’d taken refuge in the police station with sweets from his secret stash that not even members of the S.T.A.R.S. could find the location of in a traditional game they called The Heist. Jonathan's only objective during those moments was bringing out his fatherly side to cheer them up and keep the spirits high, he wasn't merely a police officer, he was a father to those who needed comfort.   

The sweetest man ever. He just wanted to survive to get back to his family and not live in regret until the day he died.  

Vera looked down at his covered body, hollow inside. The rot momentarily faded into a candied whiff, but it was blown over immediately. 

Don’t think. Thinking slows you down. Slow gets you killed.

She tuned out the distant sounds of metal rattled by the unending effort from the undead, it was white noise at this point, and gathered her focus. The most troublesome right now was how heavy the earth was, half-mud already. The shovel got stuck and didn’t move an inch. Her arms ached and burned from digging, she hadn't closed the grave even halfway yet. Bodies wrapped with white cloth and secured with ropes were waiting to receive proper respect post-mortem, littered around like toys around the west courtyard. It weighed on her chest that she couldn’t work faster and they had to lie around, alone and downtrodden in death. 

Vera slipped in the mud and almost fell to her knees. The fishnets would do nothing to protect her skin from getting cuts and they didn’t even know if this thing also spread from blood contact. Marvin’s voice in her head lectured her in that tone about how it was almost November and why weren’t her winter clothes out yet? 

She would have dressed more appropriately for the zombie apocalypse had she known this was coming, in her defense, no calendar for these kinds of significant days were released by the ye olde Umbrella. At least it was black jean shorts instead of skirts she liked so much to wear, and a baby pink turtleneck cold shoulder top. It could have been worse. They’d given her a black raincoat and a standard cotton blanket for the night to go along and that had been enough.

The chunky knee-high patent leather boots kept sinking in the mud the more it rained and they weren’t heeled, even with that Vera first and foremost had to struggle with her footing before having a go at shoveling. By far, this was the closest she came to crying because the damned soil just didn’t want to work with her—

Vera let out a frustrated yell and stabbed the shovel down, and at that very moment, the loud clang of the front gate being slammed crashed into the silence. Her clammy hand, sweaty or just wet from the rain, she didn’t know, closed around the stick of her shovel in dread, the short fingerless fishnet gloves were soaked all the way through either way and stuck to the cracked wood's splinters, she could swear her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

If by some blind luck the undead had barreled their way through, there was no barricade between the cemetery area and the entrance, Vera would have to slam them away with the shovel to run past and get to safety. No use in fighting them with the intention to kill, she couldn’t, anyway. Her mind was already calculating the scenarios as she stood still as a tree, ready to spring to action as soon as she decided on what course to take. 

The silhouette of a man strode forward from the gate toward the doors to the station; he didn’t stumble, no drag to his walk, only flighty panic. No other followed him in, so the only explanation was the guy shutting it behind him. 

Another survivor. Finally, a fucking a human. 

(An intrusive thought: Wonder how long until I bury this one too.)

Disgusted, she waved off the poisonous gas swirling above her head, took a couple steps forward and raised her hand to wave to him. “He—”

A loud bang echoed in the courtyard. 

Vera froze as if she were a paused recording, not understanding what had transpired for a couple seconds.  

Huh?

The fucker had shot at her. 

And thankfully, missed. 

A smooth and youthful voice rang out, it had a stifled tremble to it. “Stop, I’ll shoot!” 

What kind of bullshit—

“You already did, asshole!” She all but screamed, still spooked about almost getting gunned down, the stress and fear radiated from the sentence. 

There was a considerable amount of distance between them and the horrible guttural noises of the undead, but Vera did hear him say, “Oh my god,” to shakily and quietly, it'd left him in a weak whistle evaporating into the November cold, immediately after he started jogging to her in alarm. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just thought you were — like them, I, I didn’t think. Shit, holy shit, are you okay? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, fuck. Oh my god.” 

Surprisingly considerate of him after the shit he pulled. 

It was kinda funny hearing someone ramble while running. Especially because it happened right after she almost got shot. Her brain had to be fried, she actually started chuckling just as the man — young man, he sounded boyish— hit the brakes right in front of her with no reaction at all to the scenery, which she thought was because he didn’t quite pay attention to from the shock of nearly killing a civilian. 

But hell, it was someone living, breathing, alive. How wonderful it was to be talking to someone new, and that they weren’t alone, it wasn’t just her, Elliot and David and Marvin and oh, it got hope bubbling in her chest and warmth back into her limbs. This guy could play target with her anytime if it meant he stayed by their side, helped them get things moving, and stayed perfectly unharmed until the end. 

That got her genuinely grinning. To think she was just about to angry-cry a minute ago. “I’m good. No holes, no grazes. I’m still standing. Thank god your aim sucked ass, right?” Vera unlodged the shovel from the mud, making it fly a bit before catching it. “Think you scared this one out of its wits, though.” 

“You sure? It could be adrenaline talking.” In the dimly lit courtyard, she could barely see the details of him, but he was looking up and down at her, hands hovering over her arms, not sure if he could touch her or not. Polite, huh. “It’s too dark, I can’t see. How about we get inside and I take a good look at you?”

Vera agreed with the guy’s idea to go inside, she had to show him around — show what was left, it would be great to have another mind to join the brainstorming about how to get the hell out of here soon, so she walked ahead and he followed after her, it was oddly reminiscent of a puppy. “Believe me, I would have gone down immediately if that bullet nicked me slightly.”

Behind her, he cursed under his breath, stifled and angry. “I’m really sorry, those things out there, it was insane, and I thought—”

Vera snorted. “Don’t worry about it, I understand.” They finished climbing the steps to RPD’s door, and she stopped and turned to him with her fingers over the handle. “The next time you have to shoot me, though, don’t miss. For your own sake.”

In that moment, she could make out some of his features obscured by shadows, he had unbelievably pigmented blue eyes that had widened upon her implication — he looked just as he sounded, gentle. “I’m not— you’re not— I wouldn’t—”

“Relax,” Vera jokingly pretended to hit his chest, but her hand didn’t touch the guy at all. He deflated with a long exhale. “I wouldn’t do that to you, random guy. I’d take myself out first before turning into one of these.”

With that, he simultaneously choked as Vera opened the doors to the police station. The sooner he got used to it, the better. Vera had found humor in a time like this horrified and angered people, but it also eased them and calmed their nerves even though they tried to hide it behind offended responses. If she succeeded in making him feel a bit better, then it was a win for her.

“Jesus,” he sighed. “Don’t say things like that.”

“What, you’d rather I eat you?” Vera immediately ran over to the front desk to scrub the mud off her shiny boots, shook her raincoat off and draped it over the mahogany. Her trusty shovel leaned over the desk as well, it didn’t matter mud was dirtying the place, not anymore.  “You must like people being all over you. Naughty.”

He basically sputtered. “I do not—”

Either he spoke in chopped, unfinished sentences or it was Vera’s own tendency to cut people off in the middle of what they were saying.

She finally looked back to point at him and her breath got fished right out of her mouth the moment she saw him with all his glory bathed in golden light. Her finger waved at him. “Hm, didn’t expect that.” 

Dude was ethereal. How the hell did he have such defined and sharp features with a killer jawline, yet looked so youthful and soft? It was a sin that he was dressed for a trip to the church with these looks. His blond hair, parted from the side, looked it’d be so smooth to the touch, he had to be conditioning that, could say he was modeling for some agency and she would believe him — Vera hadn’t seen any man this pretty before. The couple zits on his face did no work in blemishing the beauty, it only meant that he was in his late teens or early twenties, he had that naïve aura to him.

It randomly dawned on her that he had made it from the fully infected city to the police station, on his own, with no injury nor scratches. He was just soaked from the rain, and a little bit disturbed was all — Vera remembered the shame of shaking like a leaf caught in a storm for hours after barely getting away with her life from one undead, screaming her voice off until Marvin got her out of there into RPD and just cried as the situation escalated from bad to all hell breaking loose. Everyone and their mothers were just the same, all things considered. What cloth was this guy cut from?

She couldn’t imagine him making his way through the literal apocalypse, too young, eyes too innocently clear and big, no frown or stress lines, he was simply squeaky clean. Men rougher than him hadn’t been able to make it, consumed by the hoard of the dead, and all this guy had was a single gun. Was he simply that fast? Too good at stress and panic management? Right off the bat he appeared benign and incompetent at anything related to violence, too cloud soft and golden dawn.  

“I don’t appreciate these kinds of jokes,” he said, getting her attention back. So he had taken what she said as a quip and not Vera being stunned at his looks. It was for the better, of course. The secondary surprise was being scolded by a guy she’d just met. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I’ll make sure of that. You’re safe with me, I’ll get you out of here.”

Hah, that sounded cheesy as hell. Thank you, I guess, random guy, not like the entire population turned into monsters or anything trying to do just that. 

“Well, aren’t you the hero Bonnie Tyler was looking for,” Vera gave him a half-hearted smile, slowly walked up to him under his observant, anxious gaze, and offered her hand. “Vera Kaplan, wish we could have met under better circumstances.”

“I have to agree with you there,” he nodded, giving her a firm handshake, his palm was surprisingly warm when he had just stepped off the cold weather outside. “I’m Leon—”

Vera had to gasp. “You’re Skennedy?” 

Leon blinked. “Who?”

She let go of his hand. “The rookie!” 

Vera had taken to calling him that after she was asked to assign him his personalized email and couldn’t understand what kind of surname Skennedy was supposed to be. Apparently the font in the file was too small and the blanks between the letters were minimized so much that she didn’t see the dot coming after the ‘S’. Marvin made fun of her endlessly after she made the mistake of asking him. Miss genius can’t read, he’d laughed, literally folded too, in fact. 

“Uh, it’s S. Kennedy, actually.” Ah great, he had a perfect smile, too. “How do you know me? You work here?”

“No, my dad. . .” 

The welcome sign they hung in the west office flashed in her mind, cheery and celebratory against the bloodbath underneath. Leon's now deceased co-workers had worked so hard to get it to stick and not fall off. Marvin’s excitement to have youngblood in the force crept up to the surface, spoken in passing conversation over lunch at Jackie’s, he had a particular pride that this new rookie was top of the graduates in his police academy and chose to ride over here instead of any big city — according to the report, he could have applied anywhere and would be welcome with open arms. Something about boys like him being eager to obey orders and so desperately wanting to prove themselves that they’d work extra hard, Marvin explained. It had to be the Arklay ‘murders’ that pulled him in, a moth to a flame. An unsolved mystery was a newly discovered undisturbed gemstone mines to people like him, Vera thought, and once upon a time, her as well.  

WELCOME LEON.

One hell of a welcome party, this was.

She cleared her throat. “He’s the lieutenant here, you’ll get introduced soon.” Vera paused, looking around. Marvin would have come over as soon as they entered but she hadn’t noticed the absence from being too occupied with Leon. “Speaking of which, where is he? He's been gone for a while...” 

It made her antsy when he disappeared without telling Vera where he was going. Her automatic action to that had transformed overtime into checking the security cameras to track him down, and that’s what she did now, circling the reception desk and hunching over the Toughbook to look over the tabs one by one, her heart picking up its pace. The undead and some abomination the other officers lost many of their own to were sensitive to noise, as they learned from painful consequences, it could be deadly to page him at any moment without making sure the precinct was safe first.

With Leon hovering over her shoulder and watching Vera expertly navigate the layout, instead, they found Elliot, running away from one undead, and her eyes followed the man while Leon sucked in a surprised breath. “We have to get him out of there.”

“Wait,” she whispered, it had no correlation to directly affecting Elliot’s situation, but it was out of reflex. “I’m looking for—”

“David! Marvin!” Elliot’s frantic, static-surrounded voice came through, he was looking directly at the security camera and showing them his notebook. “You there!? Vera was right! I found a way out! It’s in here! Send reinforcements! East Hallway!” 

“Shit, he did it?” Vera mumbled, all muscles locking in place at seeing the undead basically throwing himself over the officer. For one moment, there was nothing but the freezing thought he was bitten, but he managed to push it off and rain bullets on it before getting away, seemingly unscarred. 

“Hey,” Leon called to her, taking out a Heckler & Koch out of its holster carefully. “I gotta find that guy. You stay here and stay safe, alright?”

Fear jumped to her throat, but she pushed it down. Vera couldn’t handle facing the undead, partly because of the primal fight or flight instinct locking her down the place, she wasn’t equipped to control that part, and definitely not trained enough physically, just knowing the basics of handling a gun. The other part of the reason and what rendered her useless even with a gun was simply the fact they were people she knew — those souls being stuck in an eternal cage of diseased rot plagued her constantly, Vera couldn’t bear to hurt any of those innocents, she ran instead. She had to run. Cowardice was a disease. 

But at the same time, she couldn’t live with herself if Leon went by himself and got devoured too, Vera couldn't let him be fucking eaten alive and turn into one of those things, there was nobody else left, this was it. She had to suck it up for his sake, it was time she woman up already. “I could come with, you don’t know what’s waiting for you out there, better not stay separated.”

First flickers of stern determination flickered in him. “Absolutely not, I’m not putting a civilian in danger.”

Vera’s spine straightened in response to that, little hairs in the back of her neck standing up, and she looked him dead in the eye — she was a tall girl, and Leon was only two inches taller at best. If there was something she hated more than Umbrella in the world, it was authority, someone obnoxiously giving orders, trying to get her to do what they wanted. “What are you going to do if I tag along, arrest me, Officer?”

His expression soured, but professionalism took over. “You’re taking this the wrong way. I’m trying to protect you, I have to decide on what’s the best course of action here. If I can minimize the damage done, I will do so.”

“How am I taking it the wrong way? I’m not any safer here, and you don’t know shit about what went down in this hellhole. If you thought outside was bad, imagine what being locked up with these things is like, there is no escape, how are you going to watch your back on your own if you’re cornered? And trust me, you’re going to get cornered and overwhelmed. You’re not ready for this.” She emphasized the last sentence. “You need all the help you can get.”

“With all due respect, ma’am—”

Vera made a disgusted sound at the honorific. “Ah, c’mon—”

“You don’t know my capabilities and you certainly don’t know me.” He was not budging, stubborn for a man who looked as harmless as him. “I’ll be okay, my safety is not the concern here. What I’m responsible for, is you, and I cannot put you at risk. Let me do my job.”

Vera had fight in her still. “We have to stick together to survive, what job? There is no job anymore. No station to be a cop for—”

“We are wasting time here.”

“Because you’re being stubborn about it!”

“I’m also thinking about your father, did you not say he wasn’t here?”

Vera shut up at that, suddenly realizing that Marvin was still absent. 

“See?” Leon said, annoyingly not uptight at being right, but filled with concern, stupid sweet. “You have to wait for him here, if he comes back and you’re not here or just outside, he’ll go looking for you.”

That was an easy win, no arguing with that. “Fuck, fine,” Vera grumbled, “Take this then.” She opened the storage chest right next to the Toughbook’s stand and took out two walkie-talkies she’d been working out to minimize the output sound. “I’ll cover you from over here and tell you if anything’s coming your way.”

A small smile graced Leon’s lips, he inspected the walkie-talkie Vera put right in his palm, intrigued by the pink color, and looking over the buttons. “Alright, I can work with that.”

“Fasten it to your pocket here, it’ll get in the way of shooting.”

He nodded, getting into focus. It suited him, defined the sharper features better. “East hallway, right?”

“It’s right here,” Vera took him by the elbow, and showed him a route in the map of the first floor she opened, drawing a line with her finger over the monitor. “This is the east hallway, now I don’t remember which areas are locked because they had to shut the entire wing down, it was overrun by the undead at one point… I don’t know where he could be heading to but I’ll tell you if I see him. Until then, you just follow the hallway without getting distracted. And be fucking careful.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Leon got to moving with quick steps, rolling his shoulders in nervous anticipation.

Vera smirked. “It’s the other way.”

His steps stuttered as he made a sharp left, making a beeline at the shutter door with the “KEEP OUT” sign on it. 

She had to tease as he cranked the lever, standing behind him. His neck had gotten redder. “You sure you’ll be okay without me?”

“Positive,” Leon said, eyes fixated on how the door refused to open further and the glistening pool of blood smeared all over the floor. 

“I’m feeling bad about the snow white sneakers.”

Leon huffed, crawling inside from the small opening, voice strained with the effort and the repulsion of basically rolling over in semi-dried blood. “Be glad you’re not coming with me, then!”

“Don’t get blood on my walkie-talkies, I just made them!” She whisper-shouted at him, Leon was getting up, having finished his messy venture to the other side. Vera heard his low chuckle. “I’m going now, okay? I’ll be watching your back.”

His voice echoed. Nice acoustics, she mused. “I feel better already.” 

Vera basically ran over to the Toughbook, but her ears did pick up Leon saying, “You got this,” to himself. It was endearing as much as it was irritating, she could have escorted him. But Marvin. Goddamnit. 

Innocent assumption, she threw the mental ball in her head. No gunshots, no overactive shuffling, Marvin wasn’t discovered by the undead, he has to be around and safe, no movement in the cameras mean a good thing.

She watched Leon’s figure illuminated by his flashlight move ever-so-slowly and carefully on the screen, brows furrowed. Sinister assumption, they got him while she was digging outside and he’s collapsed somewhere in the station. 

She would have heard it. Marvin would have used his gun nonetheless. 

He was okay the last time they talked through the radio as she bitterly escorted the UBCS soldiers to the supposed Nathaniel Bard — he wasn’t there as she’d told the nicer guy, Carlos, and his buddy Tyrell had the audacity to mansplain to her the opposite as if she wouldn’t know about the poor people who took shelter here. The only thing holding Vera’s hostility at bay was Jill’s instincts on people and the rational part of her brain keeping it simple, Jill had decided to trust Carlos, so Vera dubbed him the clueless good guy in her head, she didn’t hold it against him that their intel had been clearly falsified. Marvin and she kept in contact after those guys left and she safely got back to the main hall, but by then, he wasn’t around, and the only decision to not marinate in her own acidic mind was to keep working on the graves in the front — the rest of it was history. 

The Marvin inside of her spoke out once more. Don’t think. Thinking slows you down. Slow gets you killed.

Leon finally decided to speak to her. “You see anything?” It had to be nerve wracking going through the gory remains of the slaughter alone, Vera just knew he wanted to speak instead of being submerged in his own frantic thoughts. This was why she insisted on going with him. Nobody could ever be ready for that. 

“Just dead bodies ahead, no strange movement. It’s fine, I got you.” 

The “Thank you,” came from the bottom of his heart. She couldn’t bear to tease him and flaunt the ‘I told you so’s when he sounded half-terrified, half-self-assured like that. Had he been less prettier and less adorable, her reactions would be different. There was something about Leon that spoke to her nurturing side, it was the legacy of her orphanage days, she assumed. 

Vera looked through the cameras once again. “No sign of Elliot. What hole did he crawl into?”

 Loud rustling, a clunk and a shaky breath. 

“I see that you’re in the press room. He’s not there.”

“I know, just looking for anything useful. No harm in being thorough.” Technically, not true. “And hey,” He made a disgruntled noise. “Just found bullets….”

On a dead body. 

To think this was Leon’s very first day as a cop. He had to be a different breed for keeping it together, no really, what was wrong with him? No special training existed in any police academy for any of this. Maybe, it was because of her. From the very limited time she knew him, it was clear that he was dutiful and earnest, Leon could have been trying to not lose his shit for Vera’s sake. Which was admirable in hindsight, he wasn’t a whole psychopath like Irons to be actually enjoying this. 

“Keep it moving,” she told him. “You don’t want to linger on what you see for too long. Don’t be too much in your head about it.”

“I can’t help it,” Leon appeared in the hallway’s feed again. “All of these poor people… They did nothing to deserve this fate.”

She scowled, her shoulders slouching. “I know.” Her tongue clicked against the back of her teeth. “Hey Leon, um, you might want to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see.”

He tensed. “Zombies?”

“No. A bloodbath.”

He must have already stumbled on it, Vera heard the hiccup of horror. “Jesus…”

The walkie-talkie picked up the sound of another person’s screaming. “—pen up! Hurry!” Vera put the device flush into her ear out of instinct despite the fact it’d do nothing. “—goddamn door!”

And he was out of her sight by disappearing into the watchman’s room, it was a blindspot. Vera impatiently began to fiddle with the keyboard. “Leon, what’s happening?”

He didn’t answer her, whomever he was talking to, the response was meant for them. “I’ll get you out!”

Her heart scrunched and thudded against her ribcage painfully. Please don’t be Marvin, hell, please don’t be him. It was horrible to think that, to be exposed about how she’d gladly let it be Elliot instead of her father. She had turned into a monster, and it was way worse than the man-eating undead kind. “Is it Elliot? Leon?” 

The skirmish continued as she stood there, eyes wide as saucers, only able to listen to the screams and left with her wild imagination to picture what could be happening. “—lease! Help me!”

It was Elliot. She hated that it relaxed her even the miniscule amount, bile raised from her empty stomach. 

Leon was agitated and unnerved. “Gimme your hand! I got you. Gimme your other hand!”

Vera leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, resting her face between her forearms in exhaustion and pulled on her hair from the roots. They were going to lose Elliot, too. “Shit.” 

The loudness of blood curdling cries turned all the noise into static and she couldn’t make out what Leon was saying, or doing. All feeling escaped her limbs, prickling needles of numbness quickly spreading through her body. Vera was of no use, practically listening to a man dying, and an innocent rookie who just got here witnessing this outright. 

The quiet afterwards sunk in, the calm before the storm hovering around the space between them, and false peace before a predator struck. The quality of sound was back, Leon sounded seconds away from vomiting. “Oh my god… Jesus Christ…”

Vera knew then that Elliot was gone. How was she going to explain this to Marvin? He was slipping from her fingers with each person she lost to the gaping blackhole of this disease, the shine of his eyes had went out the moment there weren't any civilians left to protect. Vera wished he'd blame her, be angry at her, anything to draw out some semblance of life in him and spark the hope that she would get him out of here for sure, out of spite to Umbrella if not some heroic, noble (lost) cause to protect and shield others. She was so afraid he'd just give up and let himself be taken away in grief. 

“Leon, are you okay?” She sniffled, rubbing at her dry, tired eyes. “I can’t see you.”

“I’m okay.” There was regret in that sentence, a resentment that he was okay. It didn’t settle well with Vera, but she understood where he was coming from. 

A loud noise boomed directly next to Vera’s ear, and she nearly flung the walkie-talkie away. 

“Shit!” 

Gunshots came from the right side of the building, Leon was raining impeccably planned bullets on something and it was controlled on his side, Vera had seen enough panicked and disoriented, frantic shooting from trained cops in the time she spent locked up in this station. There was no way this professionalism came from a rookie.  

She didn’t surmise if he was this much of an expert at how to handle these things, he’d also know that the noise was an invitation to every fucking undead sprawled around in the precinct, Vera had to warn him, she was looking at a lot of movement in the shadows, squinting at the screen and gripping the walkie-talkie like her last line of life. “Leon, get back here, immediately! The noise is drawing in all the undead around you. Don’t try to fight all of them, they’ll surround you like a forest fire, just run!”

“On it!” His labored breathing and the fast progress of the light coming from his flashlight told her he was booking it back to the main hall. “Jesus! They’re everywhere!”

“Don’t look, just go, go go go!” Adrenaline was kicking for her too, she ran towards the shutter, a rock from a slingshot, but at the last minute, darted towards her shovel and went back after getting it. “I see your light, you’re almost here!”

Thank fuck he stared crawling back in and she held his arm to pull him, but some other force stopped her efforts. An undead had latched onto Leon’s leg. He let out a yelp. “Come on! Goddammit!”

No, hell, no, Vera couldn’t afford to lose another person, it didn’t matter if they just met, she couldn’t see another human suffer an ending such as this! She pulled with all her might when out of nowhere, another hand joined her, and Leon was finally ripped away from the source. 

She stumbled backwards and in front of her was the reliable back of her father. Vera could physically melt in that moment from all the weight that was lifted from her shoulders. He was here. Unharmed. Smashing an undead’s skull with the shutter door like it was a walk in the park for him.

Vera closed her eyes and pressed the heel of her hands on her eyes to hide how much they were trembling, and slid down the wooden rails, stabilizing her breathing. 

“Got it!” Marvin said. “You’re safe…” His usual warning and foreboding voice now made Vera happy. “For now.”

“Thanks…”

“Marvin Branagh.”

“Leon Kennedy,” he panted, desperate and disturbed down to the core from whatever had gone down in the watchman’s room. Her heart was being squeezed. “There was another officer… I-I couldn‘t… I couldn’t…”

“I’m sure you did what you could, Leon,” Marvin said, tone wobbly, and Vera lowered her elbows to her knees, blinking a couple times to get back to her senses and calming her heart palpitations. “Don’t beat yourself up about things that aren’t in your control.”

Vera couldn’t stop herself from laughing in a self-deprecating manner, and was about to talk back.

About to. 

Before she saw the bloodied and battered up state her father was in. 

Vera swore she almost went into hypoglycemia from how her vision blacked out the moment her eyes landed on him. 

[barakittens517]

PT. X: The End

Summary: In which the lost has, at long last, been found.

Words: 2,237

Warnings: n/a

Pairing: Morpheus x gender neutral reader

Notes: holy shit we finally made it :') massive shoutout to anyone that made it this far! hopefully i'll be posting a *refined* version of this on AO3 soon. mucho mucho love to all of you <3

Tag List: @ponyboys-sunsets @i-am-not-a-raccoon-anymore @memento-mora @freedomsofdream

The way back to the Dreaming is silent. Morpheus heads straight for the library, leaving you in the throne room alone. It’s quiet- too quiet. You wait a moment before sneaking in after him. The dream lord doesn’t notice as you duck behind one of the bookshelves, tiptoe-ing quietly towards Lucienne’s desk. 

This is the second time you’ve eavesdropped on Morpheus. You have a quiet moment of reflection for the fact that you have never overheard good news. 

No matter. Once you figure out how the hell to get back to the waking world, you’ll never have to worry about Morpheus or Lucienne or anyone ever again. 

“Ezra may have been a dead end,” Morpheus admits. “The Corinthian is gone, so what power would he have here?” 

Lucienne tilts her head towards his coat pockets. “My lord, he’s not entirely gone.” 

Morpheus pulls the tiny skull from his pocket, holding it at a distance like some scene from Shakespeare. “You cannot be serious.” 

Lucienne nods. “It is the last of him. If you destroy it, you’ll be destroying everything he had an influence on. Including them.” 

“Not all of them,” Morpheus corrects her. You had been taken from the Dreaming, unfinished. You shudder at the thought of being reduced back to what you were. At this rate, you’d be better off destroyed entirely. 

“I think you should speak with them first, my lord. Whatever choice you make will directly affect them, permanently.” 

“I think…”

You miss the rest of their conversation in favor of putting yourself as far from the dream lord as possible. To exist is one thing, but to make him choose between The Corinthian and you?

The answer is obvious. 

You know the dream lord is proud of his creations, and assume destroying The Corinthian was something akin to an unforgivable act. It had been hard enough, watching him crumble to dust in the auditorium. 

There was at least hope, with The Corinthian, that he could be made again- better, stronger, even kinder perhaps. 

But with you? You, with such a cruel joke of purpose, and you’d spent over a hundred years being quite the opposite of a perfect partner. What use is there in starting now? 

You follow the cobblestone path outside of the castle, walking as far as your feet will take you. You take the time to bargain with your conscience- dying is the best you could wish for. It will hurt, but it will be temporary. 

And Morpheus will be better off with someone new. A completely different blueprint, a brand-new dream that will never have known life as a weapon.  

Gods, what a nightmare. You had to give The Corinthian credit, if only a little. You never imagined your purpose being so world-changing. Say you had destroyed Dream of the Endless? What would have happened then? 

You’re so caught up in thought that you don’t even hear Morpheus calling after you. The city is far behind you, and looking down you find yourself standing in a field dotted with pink carnations. 

Fiddler’s Green. 

“Ellis!” Morpheus calls again, and he’s next to you in an instant. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Getting one last good view in, I guess.” 

Morpheus sighs. “It does not have to be the last.” 

“It does. It does, ‘cause I’ll be damned if I make you pick between me and him,” you snap. “It’s not fair.” 

You sit with a huff down in the carnations, folding your knees to your chest. Another magnificent sun is setting over the hills again. 

Morpheus quietly sits next to you, watching as you pluck the nearest carnations to bits. 

After a few minutes, you stop and sit still. “Can I see the book again?” you ask. 

Morpheus pulls the hardcover book from his coat and hands it over. You leaf through the pages once more, looking for your rough draft.

You had hoped to see what you were meant to become- one last look before the end. And there you are, unfinished. The lilies in the column still make your stomach turn. 

Morpheus watches you carefully, quietly. The sunset has cast a rose-gold hue onto everything, and he’s struck by how beautiful you look. His own creation. 

The moment is ruined by the sound of tearing paper. You’re careful to avoid ripping out the other pages, but it isn’t right to have your failed existence in a book of proud accomplishments. 

“There,” you say, handing the book back to Morpheus. He’s speechless. “Now you can start over, right?” 

You’re overwhelmed by a sense of freedom, and of the end. This is it for you, and you should be allowed such an act of bravery. 

“Ellis, that’s not-”

“Start over,” you interrupt. “I’m serious. Make somebody perfect from the start. And maybe don’t leave ‘em unfinished for too long.” 

It’s a joke, but it still stings. If Morpheus had never left, who's to say you wouldn’t have had the perfect life? 

The skull in Morpheus’ pocket feels like it’s burning a hole through his coat. There is so much he wants to say, and so little a chance that you would even listen. You’ve already made up your mind. 

He pulls the trinket out anyways, watching your jaw drop in recognition. Frustrated, you play it off like another joke. “You could even make him your partner.” 

“I want you.” 

The words hang in the air between you, tinged with an endless yearning. Your heart flutters at the thought of what might have been. 

“I can’t stay like this,” you say quietly. 

“Then don’t,” Morpheus replies. His grip tightens on the skull, and a large crack appears to split above the jaw. 

You reach for his arm, panicking when he squeezes even harder. “Dream, cut it out. You’re scaring me.” 

“I do not mean to scare you. This is not a difficult choice for me, Ellis.”

“And what, I don’t get a say in it?”

“You do not have to stay here. But at least let me do this for you.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, releasing your grip on his arm. You sit in silence for a moment, preparing yourself for the worst. “Will it hurt?” you ask. 

He looks at the last piece of the Corinthian for a moment, and the dozens of pressure cracks spider-webbing around the cranium. Before he can answer, you reach for his hand again. 

“I don’t care.” 

You squeeze as hard as you can, and within moments the little skull is crushed to bits of sand. For a moment, nothing happens. You can hear Morpheus holding his breath, waiting. Hoping. Praying, even. 

A faint tingling sensation, like pins and needles, begins prickling up your arms. You look down to see the bones of your forearm revealed, the skin of your hands wisped away to skeletal fingers. Without a mirror, you can only assume the rest of your visage has been reduced to what it was before Ezra Lillin came into your life. 

Empty eye sockets. Flesh stretched taut over your skull. Your left arm is missing in its entirety. For once, you’re afraid to look at the dream lord- not because of what you can do, but because of what you are. 

“Ellis,” you hear him breathe out, finally. 

“Hi.” You’re embarrassed, shockingly, to return to your previous form. You refuse to look away from your hands, refuse to finally meet the eye of the dream lord. 

Morpheus is speechless. Seeing you now is like a hundred years had never passed. Here you are, his soulmate, exactly as he had left you. The rare view of a second chance.

The silence is deafening, for a moment. Morpheus breaks it with a simple question, one you had never once considered. 

“What would you like to be?” he asks. 

Yours, I want to be yours, please- “What am I supposed to be?” your voice is foreign once again, raspy and new. 

Morpheus motions to the shreds of paper in front of you. “I would not know. I never… never got any farther than that,” he answers. 

“That’s okay.” You’re quick to reassure him. “I… I don’t mind. Will it bother you? If I look the same?” 

You could almost swear you hear him breathe a sigh of relief at the thought. “Not at all.” 

He takes the sand from his coat pocket and carefully pours it into his hands, working quickly to form the missing pieces. A sweet breeze floats through Fiddler’s Green, and the sand blows with it, materializing the flesh that covers your bones. You watch in amazement, and within moments you’re almost complete. 

Just missing the eyes. 

“The most important part,” Morpheus comments, and for a moment you’re drawn back to Ezra’s shop, to the Corinthian. He had said the exact same sentiment, albeit for wildly different reasons. 

The dream lord looks around for a moment before picking two morning glories from the path from the field. Carefully, he holds the flowers out to you.

“What do you think?” he asks. 

“Are they going to be purple?” you ask. 

Morpheus laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “Would you prefer a different color?” 

You shake your head. Internally, you’re ecstatic. “No, they’re perfect.” 

Morpheus nods. He pinches the rest of the sand into the center of the two blooms, balancing them carefully in one palm. “Alright,” he says, “Tilt your head back.” 

You lean back on both arms, looking up to the sunrise setting over Fiddler’s Green. “Like this?” you ask, looking over slightly. 

Morpheus nods, brushing the loose strands of hair away from your face. “Just like that,” he repeats quietly. 

Gently, he places the flowers on each of your empty eye sockets. You would be irritated by the feeling if you weren’t so focused on the dream lord being so close to you. You’re certain he hears the breath hitch in your throat as he leans over. 

He places a hand over your eyes, and for a moment, the world goes black. You’re briefly struck with the thought of something going wrong. 

“I c-can’t see,” you stutter, panicking, and Morpheus takes his hand away, reaching for yours. He gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Still black. 

“Ellis,” you hear him say with a laugh, “You have to open your eyes.”

You turn to him, eyes closed. “That’s it?” you ask incredulously. 

“That’s it.”

You reach for both of his hands, holding them in front of you. His palms are warm and rough. 

“Are you looking at me?” you ask. 

“Ellis,” he says, “Look at me.”

And you do. 

His irises are whirlpools of inky black, dotted with the same galaxies you’ve seen in the night sky of the Dreaming. You still get lost in them, but for once there are no flashes of sin, of regret, or despair. 

Just the god of dreams, looking back at you so lovingly that without a second thought you lean forward, crashing your lips against his. He reaches gently to cup your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

You’re struck with the overwhelming sensation that this is where you are meant to be. You tug his collar to pull him closer, wishing it never had to end.

After a moment, he pulls away slowly, both of you breathless. The nervous butterflies in your stomach are going absolutely haywire, and you can’t help smiling like an idiot. Morpheus has an almost identical look, and if Fiddler’s Green could speak, he would tell you both how absolutely, dumbfoundingly lovestruck you look.

He settles for cultivating the red and yellow daisies that bloom in a small patch between you and the dream lord.   

“Would you like to see them?” Morpheus asks, fabricating a small pocket mirror out of thin air. 

You nod. He clicks the mirror open and hands it to you, watching as you take a deep breath to steel yourself from visibly reacting. 

The morning glories have transformed into deep violet irises, with flecks of a lighter lavender. The edges are ringed in a pale gray. You watch yourself tear up at the sight, at how beautiful they are. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, closing the mirror as a tear spills down your cheek. Morpheus hesitates for only a moment before brushing it away gently with his thumb. 

“Anything,” he answers, just as quiet, “for you.” 

You’re overcome with a flood of emotion, an outpouring of love and gratitude and fucking relief.

You’re not a weapon anymore. 

You won’t hurt anyone, not even Morpheus. 

Especially Morpheus. 

You wrap your arms around his neck in an embrace, almost falling into his lap when he sits back. You settle in sideways, your head tucked into his chest. He keeps an arm around your waist, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“You are welcome to return to the waking world,” he offers quietly. “Although you will always have a place here, with me.”

You ponder for a moment, what it would be like to have a normal life on the planet. For over a century, it had been the only thing you had wished for, more than anything. 

But you know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, this is where you belong. Where you have always belonged, close enough to hear your soulmate’s heartbeat. 

“What if I want to stay?” you ask. 

Morpheus pulls you even closer, pressing his lips gently to the top of your head.

“Then stay.”

<3

[oculusxcaro]

Khare never buys sugar since she has no need of it at home. When Rorschach started dropping by, she brought back a box of sugar cubes from the diner and left them in the kitchen for him to help himself to whenever he visited. Since then a box of Froot Loops and various other foodstuffs in packets and boxes has appeared for him to try. She's desperate for you to eat more than just beans and sugar cubes, Rorschach. You're like a malnourished raccoon that's stubbornly fixated on eating just one type of food for fuck's sake.

One night when Khare was out at work, you just KNOW Rorschach was absolutely in the apartment when the landlord came snooping around. Instead of finding stuff to steal, the landlord got the absolute SHIT beaten out of him. To this day, the landlord doesn't remember what happened - only that he woke up from a medically-induced coma after 'taking a nasty tumble' down his own poorly-constructed stairs. What's that? Foul play? No, Rorschach totally wasn't waiting for him to show up. Accidents happen. 😇

When Khare gets a little more comfortable about his antihero life, you can bet she's helping Rorschach out however best she can. Feeding back information she's overheard from the GCPD? Writing down interesting information she's picked up from suspicious customers? Walter may stand out but hardly anybody pays attention to waitresses meaning Rorschach has more than one pair of ears around the city. Very handy finding who's in who's pockets and deducing facts about crimes he's investigating.

Sometimes Rorschach likes to send Khare cryptic messages (or jokes) to make sure she's alert and paying attention. No, he's not being a bully but it is a little funny seeing her reactions. It's also a good way for him to test her cognitive functions to, you know, make sure they're not deteriorating.

👫?

Send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

Contrary to Walter, it's Rorschach that took Khare some getting used to? She met him before without the mask but his brusque manner of speech soon made her more at ease around him just like she does around Walter. She also finds his mask fascinating, how the patterns shift and morph in tones of perfect black and white. She soon picks up on Rorschach's mood, not by asking him what's wrong but by observing his mask, how rapidly it changes and which patterns make themselves present.

Absolutely does little things for each other! Whenever Walter trudges into the diner with nasty cuts or broken fingers, Khare will offer antiseptic and bandages if only to keep infection at bay. In return, Walter checks out the routes she uses going to and from home to ensure nobody's waiting to pounce on unsuspecting passerbys. He's gotten rid of at least one serial attacker whose body was later found floating in the sewers by Killer Croc. Khare doesn't know about this and Walter is perfectly content to keep it that way.

Knows each others secrets yet keeps their lips sealed. Walter found out about Khare's condition at precisely the same time Khare found out he was Rorschach, the hero jumping in to prevent her getting bundled into a car by a group of thugs. Rorschach fought them off but sustained a head injury during the incident while Khare received minimal injuries during the struggle. She hid his hat, mask and coat from the GCPD, claiming it was Walter who had stopped her from getting kidnapped by the group. He noticed the eyes glinting in the darkness, his suspicions confirmed upon noticing her injuries were long gone when he came to retrieve his belongings later that day.

Do these two talk shit about the government? You better believe they do. I bet these two could talk about conspiracies all day long, a sentiment which is not helped when Khare tells Walter what she knows about Prometheus and her experiences at their hands. Rorschach somehow becomes even more violent towards kidnappers. Khare might even help him out, holding them down with a smile while he brutally extracts important information.