#[baby step forward. giant step backwards]

[oddclan-askblog]

Ocean Expedition

Raaf regarded his peer in horror,"You said we were only gonna fish a little."

"We are, we are,"Huemmo gave him a shy smile as he tossed a massive bait bag overboard,"uh we're gonna fish for wale anyway."

"The pack is moving in."Klem stood at the front of the boat, spear in tallon, eyeing a dark set of fins in the distance. They spliced through the churning water with alarming speed headed strait for the boat.

Raaf scrambled for the rope tethering them to certain death. He pulled to no avail, the bait bag was as heavy as he was. Raaf turned to the drone furious,"You told me you found a sardine shawl we could hunt! We're not prepared for large game, Vitur will be furious with me when we get back!"

Huemmo gently nudged him aside and shrugged,"Look it was only a little white lie to get your dad off my back." The drone handed Raaf a bronze trident and a brown robe,"Klem and I have done this a dozen times, it's fun you'll see."

Taking the spear in one talon and throwing the coarse fabric over himself with the other Raaf still felt cold. The cloak did little to take the edge off of the brisk morning air as the sun broke the horizon.

"Get ready." Klemok joined the two of them on the starboard side. He also had a trident though its blade was iron and its oak handle ornately decorated...with sark scales.

Raaf fussed arround with his feathers trying to take his mind off of Huemmo,"Why do drones have to be so frustrating?" He grumbled to himself.

"Being headstrong is good most of the time." Klemok chimed making his older brother jump,"Huem says determination is part of what makes him attractive, perdorming acts of strength show off his bravado and leadership potential...or something like that."

"Huh. Doesnt seem very attractive, Asi and Vitur are both determined but their not reckless about it." Raaf fiddled absentmindedly with his hoop earring,"Vitur is too cautious if anything and Asi doesnt do much besides cook I dont think."

"Ya but their old though, they couldnt wrestle a baby Elum if they wanted."

"Youd be surprised. How many sark have you killed? You both hunt big fish often?" Raaf tapped at the scale, its sharp edge bit into his finger and he yelped.

"Careful, they're sharp."

"No kidding," it was a mild scratch but annoying all the same.

"I've only nabbed the three I got these scales from." The younger mud puffed up with pride," The first one was hard but the other two were pretty easy. This'll be my first time taking on a wale, Huemmo thinks me ready for it." He shrugged.

"I hope you are cause I'm not." Raaf's feathers stood on end as he realized the wales were nearly on top of them. Huemo stepped on the spool of roap and locked both of his massive paws arround the bait line. A shadow slithered from the depths towards the boat. Pink stained fangs long as a mudokon forearm broke the surface entrapping the fishnet. Huemmo lurched forward catching himself against the rim of their boat as he strained to keep the line.

Klem struck first, aiming over the ravinouse fangs, Raaf thought he missed. Until the fish spat the meat out and lurched backwards in pain. It's giant bulbous eye struck through by the iron blade. He took aim to finish the thrashing beast off and released his spear.

Black and white blubber smacked the side of their boat as the wale shoved them away with its tail. Raaf and Klem fell backwards as they were sent spinning away from the pack. Several minutes passed before the vessel steadied out. Raaf pulled himself up into a sitting position and peered unsteadily over the rim. Two Kill'r Wale's were floating lifeless among the still waters, abandoned by their pack. His blade pierced the eye of a small pup, Raaf swore under his breath, it was too young to die. He felt numb as Klemek's cries shattered the stillness of the moment. The bait and line were long gone in the ruddy water. Huemmo nowhere to be found, they had lost their drone.

[nyaagolor]

Thinking about Peony being Penny's dad and wrote a lil thing for it

-

The noise rips Violeta right out of the annals of her history textbook. There’s someone shouting in the main entrance, making any library studying a fool’s errand. Train of thought thrown a good twenty meters off its tracks, Violeta strains her neck to look over the railing, watching a huge older man run up to the front desks in giant strides. His arms swinging as he laughs and jokes, he keeps glancing at some girl trailing awkwardly behind him. She looks like she’s trying to stay far enough back that no one realizes the two are here together– but as he shouts her name over and over, beckoning her forward with booming laughs that practically make the walls shake, it seems as impossible as Violeta regaining her focus. The idea of going back to her textbook long gone, Violeta moves to the railing. Nemona has likewise abandoned the pile of books in front of her, staring wide-eyed at the new visitor. 

“No hay manera…” she says breathlessly. Violeta scrutinizes him further, wondering what it is about this weird guy that has her so enraptured. He’s clearly Galarian from his accent, and looks like knockoff Chairman Rose right down to his horrific sense of fashion. By this point, he’s made it to the front desk, excitedly proclaiming his arrival with a fist pump in the air. 

“You can tell my sweet baby girl that Papa’s FINALLY here!” he shouts as the students all turn to whisper to each other. The girl behind him– another one of his daughters, perhaps– blanches, looking positively mortified.

“DAD,” she hisses, “knock it off! Don’t embarrass her like that, not here!” 

“Aww, Nia, but we came all the way from Galar to see her! Can’t a guy just be excited to see his daughter?” 

Nia just sighs, cupping her head in her hand. Violeta takes a sideways glance at Nemona to try and gauge why she seems so enamored with this stranger and notices that she’s taken to leaning over the railing, eyes alight and smile wider than a yamper in a tennis ball factory. 

“That’s the ex-champ of Galar!” she whisper-shouts as she lightly punches Violeta in the arm. “He’s like, the best steel specialist of all time!” She steps backwards, closing her eyes and clenching her fists as her excitement bubbles over with a flap of her arms. “I just… I– Guau!!” she squeals, and suddenly the guy turns to look at them both, his mouth open in surprise. “Oh, hello there ladies!” he shouts, waving his arms as though his boisterous greeting wasn’t enough to catch the attention of everyone from here to Alfornada. Nia– somehow– loses even more color from her face, suddenly rushing to grab his arm and turn his attention away from them. “By any chance,” he shouts as Nia begs him to shut up, “have either of you seen my sweetheart Pen-pen?”

Nemona yelps loud enough to shatter glass.

[weilongfu]

PaiSky: One of Pai’s racing friends jokes that he should bet Sky on his race. Sky is mortified, and Pai is pissed.

Pai leaned against his bike as several other races continued, his eyes not leaving Sky's form as he watched next to Rain. His covetous gaze was obvious to many and just as many were smart enough to not challenge the rich and adored top racer of P'Pakin for either his attention or the object of said attention.

This group of intelligent individuals did not include Pai's fellow racer, Petch.

"Hey," Petch said as he nudged Pai with his elbow. "Watching the race or watching your boy?"

Pai frowned, but his gaze did not leave Sky's form. "It can be both. Why? Should I not be watching one or the other?"

Petch shrugged. "Well, if it's your boy, of course you gotta admire him. If it's the race, your boy might just be a perk. If it's both..." Pai carefully tilted his head. A smarter person would have realized a line was being crossed. Petch was not that kind of person and so he pressed on. "If it's both, perhaps I can interest you in a wager for our race tonight?"

Sky had turned around to look at Pai and Pai raised an eyebrow and jerked his head. Sky frowned and nodded before walking off. "What kind of wager?"

"Well, maybe you'd be interested in letting some of us see just what's so amazing about your boy..."

Pai's expression turned cold and still as he turned to face Petch. "Oh?"

"Just one night is all I'd ask for. Some of the guys say your boy made you moan like a bitch."

"And you think you can get me to agree to that?"

"It's just a wager," Petch said casually. "You're top racer, it's not like I'd win that easily. Give me a chance to hope, you know?"

Pai finally frowned and glared at Petch in the face. "No. I don't know. And you will definitely never know." Pai began to stalk forward and Petch's self preservation instincts finally realized the situation he'd talked himself into. "My Sky is not something to be wagered or won." Petch walked backwards as Pai pressed forward. "And you are definitely going to learn that the hard way." Petch took one more step backwards into the hands of several men. Upon realizing the men were not Pakin's security crew, Petch paled. "So I heard you wanted to know if Sky could make you moan like a bitch. I'm afraid Sky isn't into that, but my friends here will make sure you're in good hands."

"Wait! Please I didn't-"

"You did." Pai's eyes were dark with fury. "But you won't again. Ever."

Pai watched as his men carried Petch off before Sky leaned into Pai's side. "P'Pai, don't go overboard," Sky cautioned. "P'Pakin will be mad if you take things too far into your own hands."

"My Sky, are you worried about me?" Pai tipped Sky's chin up. "Don't worry, these men will have a bit of fun and hand Petch over to P'Pakin's men. No harm, no foul."

"Who should ever be worried about a giant with as thick a face as yours," Sky said in a huff, but there was no denying the slight shake in Sky's shoulders. Pai immediately put an arm around Sky and pulled him in closer.

"My thick face is good for helping me keep my baby safe, it means I'm not afraid to do whatever I need to to take out the trash." Pai nuzzled the side of Sky's face and Sky rolled his eyes, but Pai could feel his breathing even out. "And I'm never letting anyone you don't want touch you."

"P'Pai..."

"It's true, it's true, Little Pai is the only one you'll ever need."

"You did it. You ruined the mood," Sky announced, but he did not leave Pai's arms. "I am no longer impressed."

"I got something right here that will definitely impress you..."

"UGH!" Sky finally removed himself from Pai's embrace and stomped off back to Rain's side to watch the race, but there was no mistaking the smile on his face.

Pai pat himself on the back mentally and resumed his watching of both the race and Sky, but mentally made a note to glare at everyone else in ten minute intervals just so everyone else would get the correct idea that Sky was off limits.

[unreadpoppy]

Wash My Dreams Away - Chapter 7

Halsin x Gwen (Tav) / Raphael x Gwen (Tav) on the side

Read on AO3

Chapter 6

A/N: Dream sequences are back baby. Also, Raphael is a menace. (also i finally get to use this damn picture)

Gwendolyn was in a garden. The place was illuminated by a few torches, and she could see that the sky was clear, the moon shining bright. Looking down at herself, she wore the same blue gown, with an off the shoulder sweetheart neckline, puffy shoulders and long sleeves. Most of her hair was down, as she felt it brushing on her back. 

Picking up her skirts, she walked around, looking at the different flowers. There were tulips, poppies, and some of her favorites like magnolias and forget-me-nots. In the distance, she noticed a bush of white roses, and walking towards it, she gently picked up one, sighing at the scent. While still holding the flower, she felt something nudging her shoe.  Looking down, Gwendolyn saw a fox. 

“Oh, hello.” She said, crouching down to take a better look at the animal. It looked at her for a moment and then ran away. “Wait!” Gwen shouted, standing up and running after the fox. 

Eventually, she lost sight of it but found herself near a fountain. Raising her skirts, she knelt beside it, looking at her reflection in the water. There were no circles in her eyes, her skin looked refreshed and she wore minimal makeup. She put her hand in the water, watching her reflection. 

She smiled at it, at first, but her face soon fell when the water stilled again and besides her, was Raphael. Taken aback, she looked around and noticed she was alone. He appeared only in the water, next to her own reflection. 

With cherry red skin, four horns and a devilish smile, Raphael’s reflection said “Hello, little butterfly.” He said, curling a lock of her hair around his fingers and bringing it close to his nose, smelling it. “It has been a long time since you were last here.” 

Gwen moved her head away from him. “It’s been a long time since I last slept.” She explained, squinting her eyes. “Although, I have a suspicion you have something to do with that?”

“I have told you all that I know.”  He chuckled. “I have no control over dreams, or sleep, now…” She saw him moving and appearing behind her, his breath tickling the back of her ear. She felt goosebumps as he moved her hair to the side. “If you were troubled after my last visit then… I fail to see how that concerns me, dearest.” Raphael kissed the back of her exposed neck. 

Gwen turned around again, seeing nothing, only the faint sound of his laughter hanging in the air. She groaned “Stop these tricks and show yourself.” 

“As you wish.” She heard him say, and soon, Raphael appeared a few feet from where she sat, one arm bent at the waist, the other spreading out as he bowed. This time, the devil was dressed mostly in red.

Quickly, Gwendolyn stood up as he marched forwards to her, offering an arm. “Walk with me.”  

She raised a brow. “Will you give me answers?”

Raphael shrugged. “You’ll only know if you accompany me.” Gwen sighed, and grabbed his arms, allowing him to lead the way. 

He took her through a different path, and more flowers appeared. Oleanders, nightshades and foxgloves were the few that the tiefling could identify, although she was more focused on where the devil was taking her. It appeared that they had entered a maze of sorts, as she noticed the giant walls of green around them. Gwen gulped and inched closer to him, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. 

Raphael chuckled. “Dreams are quite an interesting thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her brows furrowed at his question. “I would, if you hadn't told me otherwise a few weeks ago. I mean, you were the one that said they were meaningless.” 

“A devil can change his mind, can he not?” He stopped walking and turned to her. “In truth, dreams are a reflection of oneself.” Raphael got closer to her, causing the tiefling to take a step backwards. “They can show parts of our day, relive old memories or glimpses of the future, torment us with our biggest nightmares.” 

Gwendolyn’s back hit one of the walls, feeling her dress get caught in it. She raised her hands to try and pry herself off of it, but she felt vines wrap itself around her wrists, pulling her further into the walls, trapping her there. Gwen’s hands were pinned next to her head, and her heart raced as Raphael stepped closer and closer. 

“But the most important thing is that dreams show us our deepest wishes…our deepest desires.” Raphael whispered, his body inches from hers. 

“You confuse me.” Gwendolyn breathed out. “You brush me aside, tell me that this means nothing. Now you come here, with all this talk of dreams and desires.” She chuckled nervously. “It’s-it’s like you’re trying to charm me or something.” 

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He raised a brow. “I know what you told the druid, about your feelings towards me.” He trailed one long nail from her cheek down to her cleavage, smirking as she shivered. 

“How…how do you know that?”

Raphael smirked, his eyes darkening. “I am the devil, dear. I know everything.” She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks as he momentarily looked down at her lips. “I know how you want to be desired, how you want to be seduced. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll provide just that.” 

Gwen struggled weakly against the vines, but that only made its grip on her wrists tighten. “Raphael…” she whispered. Gwen looked in his eyes, feeling like a fly caught in a spider’s web. 

“Shh… there’s no need to fight.” The devil said, wrapping a loose strand of her hair around his finger, inching closer to her. The more she looked at him, deeper into his trap she fell. “Be honest with yourself.” He whispered in her ear, body pressing close to hers. “Tell me what you want.” 

“I…” Gwendolyn gulped, conflicted. She knew this was wrong, that this whole situation was strange. But would it be too bad to indulge? For once, to give in to what she wanted? Besides, this was just a dream, right? 

“Say it.” He demanded, breath tickling on her ear. 

“I-I want you.” Gwen breathed out. “I want you, Raphael.” 

In an instant, his mouth was on hers, his hands holding her face. When she gasped, he pushed his tongue through. He was dominating and strong, and there was nothing Gwen could do to stop him. 

Like a moth is drawn to a flame, even if it would only burn her in the end, she couldn’t stop herself from being attracted to it - to him, to wanting him, to even…liking him. When he let go, she let out a whine as he smirked. His kiss was like a poison she wanted to drink more of. 

…

Halsin pressed a damp rag to Gwendolyn’s face, trying to help cool her down. After her days long insomnia, she fell into a deep sleep. A full day had passed, and she showed no signs of stirring up and now, she was burning up with a fever. 

Both him and Shadowheart had tried using their healing magic, but nothing worked, and so, the druid resorted to natural means. They had moved her to the tent he shared with Minthara, since it was the biggest one at camp and because he would keep a better eye on her, with his materials nearby. 

It had been Lae’zel’s idea, to keep up with their search for a way to end Ketheric’s invulnerability while Gwen slept. Halsin had agreed, stating that it would have been what she wanted - for the others not to stall because of her.

Halsin had decided to stay behind as well, in an attempt to try and bring his friend back. He had his suspicions that whatever liquid was in that vial was the reason for this, but with no way of contacting the devil, Halsin could only do his best and hope that she would pull through. 

Halsin sat down next to her, noticing the owlbear cub and Scratch curled up by her feet. Just like, they hadn’t left her side. He grabbed one of her shivering hands and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to her knuckles. Still holding it, he murmured a small prayer to the Oak Father, asking for strength. After that, he wiped a strand of her from her forehead, he said “Come back to us, Gwen. We need you.” Halsin paused, and whispered “I need you.” 

[projectbluearcadia]

Epilogue

Diavolo: Ah, ah? Testing. There we are. To our dear students attending the Royal Academy of Diavolo, we have called you together today to make an important announcement.

Students that had been talking to each other in hushed and occasionally loud tones grow quiet. They look up at Diavolo on his podium.

Diavolo: It has come to our attention that many rumors are circulating about the demon that was known as Corde Lia, a vampire from the distinguished Erimav family that offers this academy, as well as myself, their very souls. Their brother, Hter Ric, has since been spreading a false rumor about Lia's confrontation with another student.

Hter: I daresay it wasn't false. My sibling is dead, are they not?

Diavolo raises one hand, and Hter reluctantly backs down.

Diavolo: I am getting to that. We will begin with what is correct. Corde Lia was killed by Annelie Glasgow after a confrontation. However, this confrontation was not instigated by her, nor was this killing intentional. Lia sexually harassed Ms. Glasgow and actively practiced species-related discrimination, despite knowing that Ms. Glasgow is in a committed relationship with our Vice-President, Lucifer.

Diavolo's brows furrow.

Diavolo: As such, Ms. Glasgow will be suspended from all academy activities for one week. I, as prince of the Devildom and as president of the academy, formally apologize to the family of Corde Lia, who grieves for their lost child.

Diavolo: However, I also believe I have made it very clear that I will protect those whose voices otherwise go unheard. There are 5 succubi, including Ms. Glasgow, in this entire academy. The number of incubi is even less. We as the student council, and I personally, not as a prince or a president but as a proud member of the demonic race, beg you not to indulge in familiar assumptions. Thank you.

Clapping slowly resounds in scattered areas of the crowd, then spreads to its majority as Lucifer and Annelie step forward from the crowd. Hter is noticeably restraining his anger, begging to tear Annelie to bits.

Diavolo: Lucifer, I now hand things off to you.

Diavolo covers the mic.

Diavolo: And please, seriously, do not threaten anyone else with death while you're speaking. That is not a surprise I want today.

Lucifer: I wasn't going to; rest assured.

Diavolo's hand leaves the mic, and he steps backward to allow Lucifer into the light. Annelie fidgets behind him nervously.

Why am I even here? I'm not going to speak, right?

Lucifer: Diavolo has already covered all student conduct topics that I had wished to address. However, because there still seems to be some kind of misconception regarding my relationship with Annelie Glasgow, let me make it perfectly clear for all of you now.

Lucifer drags Annelie away from the podium, well within view of hostile, neutral and friendly demons. She keeps looking at the crowd uneasily, then at Lucifer.

Annelie: (Softly) What are you doing?

Lucifer gets down on one knee, and a collective, excited gasp from everyone present makes the room feel as if a giant had inhaled. Lucifer pulls out a small, velvet box, popping it open for Annelie to reveal a stunning marquise-cut engagement ring. Several girls in the crowd scream. Annelie gapes stupidly at it like a fish out of water.

Lucifer: Annelie, you came into my life without me even wanting it. I thought you were an impudent girl that just liked stealing my bed. I was foolish. You have the gall to lecture me, insult me, and even baby me. You have the libido that drives me to borderline madness. And, even though your heart is fragile... you placed it in my hands and trusted me with your everything. You made me believe that I could do the same.

Annelie raises her hands to her smiling mouth and starts to cry, trying not to laugh out of joy (and his cheesiness).

Lucifer: You've made my family feel at ease, and for once in my life, the moniker "The Morning Star" seems to feel as if it describes me. So, Annelie... Will you, for the rest of your life, choose to marry me and officially become my wife?

Annelie: Yes. Yes, you silly demon, I love you. Hurry up and put that ring on so I can hug you.

Lucifer chuckles to himself as he slides the ring onto her finger.

Lucifer: Impatient as always, aren't we?

Annelie: Oh stop it and c'mere. Let me kiss you.

The great majority of the crowd loudly cheers, several demons whistling and screaming as Annelie and Lucifer share a long, sweet kiss, enjoying each other's embrace.

Lucifer: I'm never going to lose you again.

Annelie: Likewise. No more cursed grimoires. No more brotherly secrets. No more magic diseases. We'll just have a peaceful life together...

I'll make sure of it.

Sapphire World

The Power I Hold / END

[ thank you for reading! ]

[adoreuoon]

Everything was too loud, Tim wondered how Kon could even begin to function with his super hearings.

(for the fanfic thing)

thank you for the ask!!

send me an ask with the first sentence of a fic and i’ll write the next five!

The screams inside the building under Tim’s feet were growing too loud to ignore. There weren’t many stars out that night either, just the moon.

Tim’s hearing and sight were already struggling, then he started to lose his footing. Harley Quinn’s giant wooden hammer had struck his bo staff’s defense (literally) right in half, and sent it clambering to the rooftop.

“This is so gonna piss off your dad.”

Harley took a step back to get a good swing lined up. She had Tim backed up to the edge of the roof with nothing behind him but a fifty meter drop onto cold, black pavement.

He reached for his grappling hook and shot it up at the next building to his right, but before the line could reach the other rooftop, Harley’s hammer collided with his wrist and send his grapple flying.

Tim waited for Harley to start gloating again before he made his next move. He noticed that her hammer was still in his vicinity, and he knew his masked covered wherever his eyes were pointing. He grabbed his wrist and winced.

“Wah wah,” she mocked, right on cue. Tim grabbed the hammer by its head, shoved it into the ground, and handsprung off of it. The weight of the hammer yanked Harley forward.

Now, he was behind her, and dealt a strong kick to sweep her legs out from under her. She fell to the ground with an ‘oof’ and turned onto her side. She scolded for a moment, then she smiled devilishly up at Tim, which he assumed was part of her clown gimmick.

Then he felt a strong blow to the back of his head that sent him stumbling sideways. He peered over his shoulder and realized two things; one: the Joker had just clocked him in the head with a pistol, and two: that was why Harley smiled.

He scrambled. It was too loud for him to think clearly. The gunfire and the screams and sirens below were cluttering the air. He supposed Kon could probably counter these situations by flying away from them and shooting lasers out of his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be offended by a little help!” he muttered as he held his finger over the communicator in his ear.

“What was that, sport?” the Joker asked. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over all the people dying.”

Tim threw a punch at the man’s jaw and kicked him in the groin. It gave him enough leeway to grab the gun from Joker’s hand and chuck it off of the roof.

“I have to say, you might be the least entertaining boy blunder yet.” He pulled another pistol from under his purple blazer. “But you are definitely the slowest,” he said. In the same breath, he pointed it down, and sent a bullet into Tim’s foot.

Tim shouted and tripped backwards, but before he could hit the ground, he was in Harley’s arms. “Baby bird, you gotta rest that poor foot! Let me help ‘ya.”

Tim couldn’t tell if there was more fire in his foot or in his chest. He elbowed Harley in her side and managed to get his balance back. He grabbed her hammer from its spot on the ground and swung it at the Joker, knocking the wind out of him.

He used the next couple seconds of air to reach out on comms again. “Batman! Spoiler! Do you-“

He was cut off by another hit to his head, this time it was Harley’s fist slamming against his jaw from the side. For the first time that night, he saw stars.

He felt a coldness in his right ear. It sent a shiver down his spine. The next thing he saw was Harley in front of him with his communicator in her hand. Just when he thought this couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Seriously? This is your backup plan?” Harley laughed. She pressed down on the button and held the communicator uncomfortably close to her mouth. “Wah wah, I’m Robin! I’m useless on my own and my parents are probably dead!” She mocked. “Puh-lease.” With a roll of her eyes, she dropped the comm onto the ground and stomped on it. She even dragged her foot from side to side, as if she were putting out a cigarette.

Tim hadn’t been clobbered in the head for a suspicious amount of time. In anticipation, he turned around and ducked. As he’d suspected, Joker was right behind him, ready to swing again. Tim dodged the Joker’s arm and shot back with a powerful uppercut to his slim jaw.

As resilient as Tim had become, he wouldn’t be able to handle attacks coming from both sides for much longer. He was losing blood, likely had a concussion, and there was so. much. noise.

The Joker stomped on Tim’s oozing foot, which made the boy scream and fall backwards, again into Harley’s arms.

“We gotta stop meetin’ like this, kiddo.” She chuckled at her own joke and began walking backwards, ever so slowly. She stopped once her heels touched the egde of the roof.

Joker stepped closer and loomed over Tim as he squirmed. “You’re no fun at all. I hate to have to cut this short but.. I actually don’t hate to at all. At least the other failed abortions were funny.” He grabbed Tim by the fabric that attached his suit to his cape and raised him up, out of Harley’s arms.

Before Tim could reach out and do anything, he was hoisted over the edge. If he did anything to incapacitate the Joker now, it would mean certain death. With a limp right foot, he was in no position to try anything slick. He didn’t dare to look down, but he knew there was nothing underneath his feet for meters. He knew there was nothing between his body and the ground. He knew Batman wasn’t coming to save him.

“Any last words, Wonder Brat?” The Joker grinned.

With the last bit of energy he had, Tim let out the loudest, most ear piercing, gut wrenching scream possible, and pleaded for the only person he knew would never fail him: “CONNER!”

“Conner?” Harley laughed. “Is Conner Batman’s real name or is some white guy comin’ to save you?”

Tim tried to think of something smart to say to keep himself alive longer and raise his chances of Kon coming to bail him out. But there wasn’t time. Joker let go, and Tim fell.

Tim had fallen from high places before countless times, but he was never without his grapple, without batman, without help. He’d never felt his heart plummet the way it did as he flew downward through the air.

Then it stopped. It was sudden. The falling stopped. Tim felt himself breathe again. His eyes were still clenched shut, but he could feel the warm, strong arms that had caught him mid-air. For a brief moment, Tim thought he was dead.

“Hey,” a sweet voice said. Thank God.

Tim let his eyes open back up. Tan skin, blue eyes, and curly hair. Blue. Leather. Tacky hot topic spikes. Sunglasses, even though it was nighttime. Thank God.

“You okay?” Kon asked.

“Yeah.” Tim cleared his throat, trying to get his teary eyes back to normal before they could leak out from under his mask and give him away. “Thanks.”

“You don’t look okay.”

“Yeah, well… can you take me home please? If it’s not too much trouble. I got shot in the foot and I don’t think I’d make it very far on my own.”

Kon’s eyebrows shot up as he peered over to inspect Tim’s foot. “No problemo, dude. Is Batman gonna kill me for being in Gotham though?”

“He’ll get over it,” Tim snickered. He finally let himself look down, now that he knew he was safe. Then, he realized that civilians were starting to notice Superboy holding Robin in the sky. If that were to make the papers, Batman might never get over it. “We should go.”

“Agreed,” Kon said, making the same observation. With Tim tight in his grasp, he took off for the Batcave.

Kon’s superhearing was unbearable near that building, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything as long as Tim was safe.

[mandalhoerian]

NO TIME TO DIE | leon kennedy x oc | 4

pairing: leon s. kennedy x oc word count: 15K~ (again...) warnings: graphic descriptions of gore and the smell. cringy humor. she's coping. u know how it is chapter summary: Claire Redfield joins the party, and Leon has to compromise in allowing both girls to join him in his journey through the zombie-littered station, they have to stick together to survive. Meanwhile, Vera has found her purpose in pursuit of justice for Raccoon City and overcomes her fear through anger. READ ON AO3 ! CH. 5 ☆ NO TIME TO DIE MASTERPOST

Coming up behind Vera and closing the library spade door behind him, a delighted and equally stunned, “Claire?!” left Leon after he saw the reason why Marvin had called them back. He took a couple steps forward, elation emitting from him like sunshine rays, so full of ebullience that it bubbled over. 

Vera’s gaze skipped from him to the newest addition to the group. 

The ponytailed brunette in the red leather jacket with “Made in Heaven” written on the back underneath the winged and horned lady hugging a giant rifle was crouched in front of the sofa Marvin was sprawled on, she turned around to look at the source of the voice, and stood up, smiling charmingly with a hint of awkwardness in there. 

It showed in her face that she was thinking about how the dead rising from the oblivion crisis was pulling all the pretty people in like moths to flame.

Without hesitation, Leon shoved his gun back into its leg holster and jogged up to her, looking between the fatigued, harshly breathing Marvin and her. “I knew you’d make it! Are you okay?”

“You know, doing fine, the same old,” the girl said, sheepish, if there was a door sill, she’d probably put her arm on it and lean in. “Just surviving.”

Leon chuckled, relief written all over his body language, his wide back to Vera was visibly lax despite being concealed by the protective vest. “That’s good.” Snapping awake from some spell he was under, he spun backwards to face Vera, prettily abashed yet happy all the same — the boy within shadowing over his face. “This is Claire, I forgot to say. I came into town with her.” 

Vera was staying behind and observing, not caring all that much about how the two knew each other and letting it be known, before she had to skitter up to Marvin, attention taken away by a particularly harsh jerk and hiss from him. She put a hand on his shoulder, a chill going up her wrist at the cold and moist sensation from the damp material from him rapidly sweating, and gently nudged him backwards. “You need to lay down.”

“I lay down all the damn time,” he grumbled behind gritted teeth, Vera could feel the eyes on them. 

She helped him settle without putting much pressure on the tear in his side, covering him with the white sheet. “And? You’ll continue laying down until we’re finished getting that passageway open.” 

Marvin was displeased, but he’d live. 

Vera heard shuffling right behind her. When she looked back, Leon was offering her something, and the girl named Claire was glancing on with sorrow in her ocean blues, obviously lost and not sure what to do — the slight baby fat on her face pulled on Vera’s heartstrings.

“I’ve got some herbs. Green and red. You said red intensified the effect.” Leon uttered, voice low and reverent as if Marvin was sleeping and it would wake him up.

“Yeah that’s right,” she said, letting him place the herbs in her hands, their fingers brushed. She nodded, grateful. “Appreciate it.” 

He studied his superior, dejection straining his eyebrows. “You’re welcome.” Backing off, he caught Claire’s eyes, and motioned back to the reception desk with Vera’s station with a bob of his head. “We’ll be at the front, come on Claire.”

Claire said, “Okay,” but her worried gaze stalled, hesitating to follow Leon for a short while, then she stopped. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” Marvin asserted, pained but firm. 

He was about to follow it up with some foreshadowing, ominous bullshit like, ‘There’s nothing anyone can do,’ and Vera dismissed that before he could open his mouth, jibing at him. “Yes, yes, we get it, you’ve become a parrot at this point.” She put the herbs right under his nose. “Make better use of your mouth and eat your greens.”

Marvin could set someone on fire if looks had any superpowers, 

Vera didn’t see him sharply shoving her forehead with his fore and middle fingers coming, and she unceremoniously fell on her ass. He hadn’t even hit her or anything. A stupefied daze took over as to how she lost her balance that bad as she held the exact place he’d pushed.

Right behind her, Claire was panicking. “Oh my god.”

“If you disrespect me one more time girl, I swear to Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Marvin began, shakily breathing out. “I will whoop your adult ass in front of everyone .” He held a wave of whimper in, showing Claire and the general direction Leon had disappeared off to. “And make it the only memory they will remember you by.”

Vera gaped at him, face perpetually stuck in that pre-laughter expression, deep down, she was sort of happy that he was this energetic. 

She didn’t know when Claire came to stand right beside her, but being helped off the ground startled her, she almost elbowed the girl right in the nose. Being sneaked up on was something of a hated thing to her, like one of those red pandas that stood up on its back legs and raised paws as if surrendering whenever unexpected danger rolled their way in — looked cute, but really, it was aggression on the red panda’s part, actually striking out with the claws on their front feet. As caricature-easy as Vera was to scare, she wished she could get rid of it, time had only made this reflex worse. 

After her sharp intake of breath, Vera muttered, “Shit, sorry,” to Claire in a voice only she could hear, that got answered by a breathy chortle only. At least she hadn’t dropped the herbs on her way down. She stood up with Claire’s help, dusting her ass and legs off with her free hand. “Damn, Marvin, is it that serious?”

He threw an empty water bottle at her, which she dodged at the last minute. “Get the hell out of my face.”

“You almost hit Claire.”

He hadn’t, the bottle was thrown straight to Vera’s left direction with scary precision and Claire was to her right. He still had it. The wind chimes of once a pipe dream rang in the distance and re-kissed into her weary heart, making room next to the problem solving realist running the place. All the talk about being conscious enough to give his final advice to Vera was bullshit, they agreed together. (Another resident stayed in the shadows and scowled at them, but they didn’t mind. Her name was dubbed the doomsayer and she would forever go ignored, the pipe dream’s music too hypnotizing for that.)

Sitting by his side was more of a dare than going up against an undead. Vera did anyway, trying Marvin. “As payback, you have to eat your greens.”

A toothy grin spread on her face as he did unenthusiastically. Marvin was getting ashier, and in spite of that, the herbs were the only thing sustaining the remaining light of life inside him, a fresh breath of solace in his suffering whenever he was supplied more, it was cruelly palpable. His pain ebbed away each time, sleep wandered within his reach — he needed more to hold on until they got to help, or help got to them. Vera didn’t mind being under fire from him in the slightest, so long as all Marvin did was complain and not actively sabotage their endeavors. She’d take it merrily. 

“That’s nuts,” Claire breathed, seeing as Marvin promptly started treading the path of consciousness and slumber. “Is it marijuana or something?”  

Vera half-expected Leon to come flying at the mention of the word, but he was away, hadn’t checked why they weren’t behind him either. The possibility of him advancing forward on his own wasn’t that slim, it made Vera leave her seat and wend her way to the front desk. 

“I’m not giving my cop dad weed, it’s medicinal herbs native to Arklay mountains, they’re basically magic. You’ll catch on quick, don’t worry,” she made it known back to Claire, who was keeping up with her. This was the second time she had to explain to someone the herbs weren’t what they thought it could be. “Also, what an introduction, right? Feeling like a middle school kid that got embarrassed by her parent in front of her friend.”

“I know the feeling. My brother used to love doing that. Especially in the presence of my guy friends.”

She caught a glimpse of Leon, Heckler & Koch in one hand and what looked to be a high capacity magazine in the other, engrossed in switching his bullets to his newly acquired custom part, a tightly gathered wrinkle between his eyebrows. Her steps slowed down as the restlessness alleviated, just taking in his appearance for a second, it hit her unexpectedly, looking at him from afar. Leon delicately walked the line separating pretty from handsome — he wasn’t rugged or hunky, a tall glass of water to be exact. He was beautiful in an impossible way from no man she’d seen before. Even the buttchin suited him. 

Was it the uniform that made him so attractive? 

Vera wasn’t into that kind of thing, she worked with the police, and not once did it particularly get her attention. But again, she also hadn’t come across a rookie ever since Rebecca Chambers, so had to begrudgingly accept it was Leon and not the uniform, damnit . 

“I’m Claire,” the girl behind her said, and it was ice water cascading from above, followed by a hot ripple of humiliation. Thank goodness Claire wasn’t right by her to witness Vera fucking ogling this man. “Claire Redfield.”

All thoughts draining from her brain, Vera abruptly spinned around. “Redfield? You’re Chris Redfield’s sister?”

Claire lit up. “You know my brother? I came here looking for him.” 

“Like, not personally but, our paths crossed quite a lot. I work here sometimes.”

The clatter of what probably was a gun placed on the desk momentarily disturbed her attention, but Claire’s hopeful distress was more pressing. “Do you know where he is? Is he here?”

He was a continent away, sniffing out the trail of Umbrella, as they were a Europe-based corporation before, Jill had filled her in about it one day, as they sat back to back in two different button-tufted red booths in a bustling, dimly lit diner at rush hour to make it difficult for them to be monitored by whomever Irons and Umbrella had put on Jill’s tail, exchanging notes sneakily. Vera was in disguise as a plain old secretary, looked to be wearing headphones and listening to her CD Walkman, drinking filter coffee with milk — normal filter coffee for nothing new, and milk filter coffee to signify she had news — as she kept busy reading a book and taking notes, and Jill was eating a whole meal. She had told Jill about the G-Virus, and Jill had replied with what had happened to Chris. 

She seemed to believe Chris had cracked under the merciless monitoring and the restricting choking grip Irons had on every surviving STARS member, and used that opportunity to continue his investigation, but Vera wholeheartedly believed Chris’ supposed explosion of anger was to get himself suspended so he could leave the city, it had to be a setup. 

Either way, he was lucky to have gotten out of Raccoon City at the perfect time. 

“He’s on vacation,” Vera told Claire, carefully and as neutral as possible. “Europe, I heard. He didn’t tell you?”

Claire’s eyes were darting around, her head lowered, either scanning her memory or trying to make sense of this. She shook her head, lethargic and confused. “No. No, he didn’t. That’s why I’m here, he hasn’t contacted me in a long while.” Sighing and blinking at a great rate, Claire said, “But this is a good thing, thank god Chris isn’t here to go through this.”

The sheer self-consciousness Vera had over her facial expression got her imagining little creaking sounds each one made. The irony of that. 

The remnants of  STARS that had been backed into a corner in the mansion up in the Arklay mountains  had come back different, haunted and paranoid, a husk of themselves; she wondered if Claire would be able to recognize her brother after hearing his voice over the phone, under the obvious reasons why he hadn’t reached out to her, maybe Chris also thought Claire would know something was wrong on the spot. 

Vera was truly understanding just what they had gone through only now. Claire had no idea what was happening, what had already happened, and what kind of imprisonment without bars had followed. The survivors of that incident were left to wait with an invisible executioner’s ax just above their necks, not only were they in danger, but their loved ones were wide open as the one supple, unarmored weak point of a dragon.   

It was understandable Chris wanted to keep her away from this, Vera respected his decision, it wasn’t her answer to give Claire — and frankly, what went on between the siblings was none of her business, she would keep her mouth shut.  

Cracking the solemn rainclouds over the two girl’s heads, Leon spoke up, the modification of his gun now complete. “You said you didn’t work here.”

Claire and Vera shared a look, and went up to where he was, right in front of the desk. She tried to remember the conversation, holding her chin and tapping her fingers on her lips in contemplation. “I said that?” 

“Yeah, when I asked how you knew me—”

“I didn’t particularly confirm or deny I didn’t work here.”

That baffled the blond, he shifted on his feet. “But you said—”

“I didn’t say anything affirmative about not working here.”

All the negative forms were basically meant to attack him. Leon blew out a loud huff, the fake annoyance was adorable. “You’re blurring the line.”

Vera pressed her lips together not to let a smug, conceited, silly smile take over her face. She was halfway triumphant, scanning Leon up and down and letting her gaze linger. “I’m all about blurred lines.” 

He didn’t get it. Of course he didn't, looking at her with a crinkled brow only. Cute.

Claire chipped in after that, thankfully not letting it become uncomfortable. “So, what do you do, exactly?” She then raised her hands defensively, like she just put her foot in her mouth. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I also didn’t get your name, and…”

“It’s fine, this dude got in our way, blame him,” Vera extended a hand to her after rolling her eyes at Leon. He gave a look back that said ‘what’d I do?’ “Vera Kaplan. Private investigator, don’t have a card with me to give you right now, unfortunately. Pleasure to meet you.”

She could hear the click sound in Leon’s head as realization spread on his expression. “Huh.” 

“Claire Redfield, but you already know that,” the brunette said, her small smile clumsy as she shook Vera’s hand. “Sadly I don’t have any fancy titles yet, I’m still a student.”

No way, that’s why she had endearing, a bit plump cheeks?  “You’re a minor?” 

“I’m nineteen.”

“You’re just a baby,” Vera declared, earning a judging, raised eyebrow from Claire. “Holy shit, what are you doing traveling here on your own?”

Claire stood her ground with casual conviction, dour, obviously not liking being perceived as that. “I can hold my own, I promise.”

Chris would one hundred percent lose his shit if he was informed his baby sister dove head first into a city-wide outbreak (if the world was lucky enough, it was limited to Raccoon City only) when all he wanted to do was keep her blissfully ignorant to it. 

“And how old are you? You don’t look old enough to be lecturing me about that.”

“I’ll have you know I’m twenty-one, okay? Also you and I are not the same, I’m two years older, and employed. When you came here from where , with your barely adult self with what money?” Claire was about to protest, but Vera cut her off. “Doesn’t matter, road trip. Apparently on your own.”

Arms crossed, Leon leaned in as if he was telling Vera a secret, the air around him was of a disappointed father. “On a bike.”

“On a bike? Scandalous, missy!”

In reality, it was impressive. Claire looked absolutely fantastic in that biker jacket and now hearing she rode a bike as well only made her even cooler that it hurt Vera’s ego. 

“Ha-ha,” Claire didn’t seem to be exactly enjoying being ganged-up on. But alas, it was the fate of the youngest ones down under the food chain. “Why does everybody think I’m going to get in trouble?”

“You’re a Redfield, I can tell.” Vera sent a wink her way, circling around her to go behind the desk. “Your brother is famous for that here, guess it runs in the family.” 

“Yeah, he’s, um, how to put it,” Claire deliberated on what to say as Leon watched Vera look over the Toughbook, most likely attempting to discern what it was she was on about. “Not exactly… compatible with authority, I guess?”

“He’s shit at obeying orders, follows his nose, is immovable as a mountain?” She laughed, clicking away on the touchpad. “You can say it, don’t worry. I’m sure your brother won’t hear you all the way from Europe.”

 “You’d be surprised,” Claire said, putting her hands on the counter and tilting forward to see as well. “What are you doing by the way? Are you on the internet?” She was excited and hopeful, an icebound hook that plunged into Vera’s heart that relentlessly pulled. “Reaching out for help?”

The only help that had reached Vera this far was Leon, apart from two soldiers from Umbrella’s own task force itself who were only there to get a doctor out. No other help would be arriving. Vera was set on this, deep, deep down. 

She had a slithering suspicion why the people of this city had been left to their own devices and it would inflict the cruelest, most merciless, irreversible blight on someone’s humanity the second she decided to share the poison. 

As much as she hated to admit it, a possible answer to a prayer sent above was more concrete than being rescued. 

“Unfortunately, all connections are out, we’re on our own here,“ Vera said, eyes half-lidded with the world-heavy implication it held, the light emitted from the screen were needles obscuring her vision and she wiped that away, shook the uneasiness off. In the corner of her peripheral, Claire's optimism wilted away, a bouquet of flowers thrown in trash.  

Don't think, she repeated, Thinking slows you down, slow gets you killed. 

She followed that up with, "I'm pulling out the map of the second floor. Spade key goes to the waiting room." Glancing up at Leon, who had been silent for a while, she showed Claire as if she's introducing her on a stage. “Now, do you want to do the honors, Leon, or should I give the crash course?” 

They ended up collaborating to paint the whole picture to Claire: the only way out is the passageway underneath the goddess statue, it'll open when they find the three medallions corresponding to the slots in the puzzle on its plate, Marvin isn't doing all too well and needs medicinal herbs scattered around the station to hang in there until they clear the way. It's straightforward really, but it overwhelmed Claire, she had just gotten here, and she craned her head to look at the speaker like she was following a ping pong ball, gears turning in her head loud and fast.

She's a smart girl, though, caught on quickly. "This is a MacGuffin hunt," she said. "It sounds ridiculous on paper. I mean, how did they even build this without anyone remembering or knowing? Why so many puzzles?"

Vera thought so too, but according to her findings, this connected to the underground system Umbrella had been digging over the years like a whole ant colony spreading out, and it made complete sense when you put Irons into the equation, it's all part of a mechanism that falls into place. Raccoon City was an organism unaware of the parasite spreading inside it. "You'll hurt yourself if you try to make sense of it." 

"We just have to focus on getting out," Leon joined her, firmly raising his hands up to his waist level and down to get his point across while speaking. "It must be confusing, I know. To be honest, none of us here have any answers."

That was a creative way to stab Vera right in the heart, spit got stuck in her windpipe and she sneakily cleared her throat to get her airways to work again. 

What these two needed was to get away from this hellhole, not to be hit by exposition, she told herself, it would take ages to explain. Eventually , she would give them the truth, but not now, this wasn't the time. 

She wasn’t particularly hiding anything, not even intent on keeping it away from them, and hell, the whole city had a right to know that it was Umbrella that had done this. 

She really wasn’t… It was the fear. Again. 

The potential question that would follow was unconsciously holding Vera back, the reason why she was inadvertently running away from everyone in the station at the beginning. The fucking shame. Why didn’t you do anything?    

No excuse could ever be enough. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to put you in the spotlight. This is all so bizarre, I mean," Claire shook her arm in the direction of the Toughbook in front of Vera, frustrated. "Gosh, we don't know what's going on, we don't have a way of knowing what's going on — if the internet was still up, we could have a way of knowing what's going on, and the people all around the world would, too."

"Rest easy knowing that I tried to fix it. Everything's busted," Vera said. The subject was circling back to questioning the root of this disaster, and it got her all tensed up underneath the unnaturally nonchalant exterior. 

"They have to be aware of what's going down in Raccoon City," Claire kept theorizing, contemplating, coming up with scenarios Vera wasn't interested in exploring. "They have to. This isn't just a local pandemic, it's — it's the zombie apocalypse. I don't get it, the city was all... And no presence of the army... This isn't even new, right?" She asked Vera, and the girl blinked in affirmation, not contributing to the conversation at all. 

The announcement ringing around the city in all streets, bouncing back from the skyscrapers and creeping into the forgotten, dark alleyways played in Vera's mind like a record: Attention all citizens. Due to the citywide outbreak, you are advised to take shelter at the Raccoon City police station. Free food and medical supplies will be provided to everyone in need...

She remembered how the TV made it sound, like a normal pandemic, looping ad after ad advising people to admit themselves to the hospital if they ever displayed horrifying symptoms too comical to be real: ravenous appetite, skin necrosis, blood congestion, the most normal could be considered clouding of consciousness and increased aggressiveness. 

The general consensus spread by mainstream news channels was that it was a strain of rabies, and there was no need to panic. In the now ransacked press room, Irons had given a press conference about how there was no need to involve the National Guard, and Raccoon City Police Department had it fully under control, speaking like he was the mayor, his natural charisma had dissolved the worries of every reporter around him, reassured smiles and restored hopes filling the room. 

Umbrella was trying to keep it under the wraps, and now, probably the United States itself was, as well. 

Raccoon City was fucked, it was on its own, being eaten alive from the inside out, there was no gentler way of putting it. 

"We're all alone here, Claire, nobody's coming to help." Vera's eyes and shoulders were drooping as if sleepiness was about to overcome her, but it was simply exhaustion, and what she was trying to imply dawned on Claire too, the girl's eyebrows pinching upwards together. 

Vera had long ago given up on waiting for help to come, this was a harsh reminder. 

It was easy to forget, Leon had made it so the moment he entered the picture with the incredibly captivating comfort of protection he provided. What a weird feeling it was to rely completely on someone as easy as this, Vera had wanted to, as humiliating as accepting it was, she had just wanted to let go, more than willing to assume Leon was ready to take it all and he was safe and he would make it safe.    

And he said, "We've got each other," soft and determined — the promised safety. A small puff of amusement came out of her nose. He sure was reassuring. An unexpected painkiller salve on a burn wound that she had been craving. "We can get out of here together."

"I'm sure we can," Claire nodded, still bothered about something, her voice climbing up in anger the more she spoke. "It just doesn't sit well with me that we have no choice but to survive alone. I didn't hear anything about Raccoon City before I arrived here, how the hell can they hide something like this? It's inhumane." 

Claire's rage resonated with Vera, what burnt away into embers and ashes caught on fire again, blood lava in her veins, the air she breathed, hot. 

No, it's not fair, it's not fair at all. To say it’s not fair is the least fair thing to say. All the people who rotted away, terrified and alone, gone or walking the earth as nothing but mouths watering for flesh now, either too lucky to have stayed dead or trapped in cages of exposed bone and falling flesh, just to be abandoned — what justice could set things right, did it even exist? 

Would any water offered like a sacrifice to a god ever quench the hellfire instead of flaring it up? If there was a heaven, it deserved to be burned down by the victims who'd been felled to this violation against humanity, it deserved to be brought down into hell they were living in  Raccoon City by the residents of it for staying deaf to the agony of the undeservingly damned, because despite the atrocities taking place in this city, the world was continuing to turn like nothing was happening. 

People all around this country were allowed the luxury of blissful ignorance. 

The answer simultaneously came to her as she remarked, "Wish we had a way of airing this live to spite whoever's trying to hide it, huh," like it was a passing conversation about how bad the weather is, no special tone, no indication of any underlying proposition. 

What it did was lighting a bulb in Vera's mind and another at the end of the road she thought was dark and endless. An electric shock of a chill surged through her body, and her heart came back to life like she'd just run a marathon, her jaw slackening. 

Keywords: spite, airing it, whoever's trying to hide it. Of course. Of course. If Vera was good at something, it was finding a way to do the opposite of what somebody wanted. 

They didn't want this out there, so Vera would make it so that everybody fucking found out. 

That had to be her purpose, it had to be her saving grace — and maybe it would be her swan song in the end, but that didn’t matter for now. 

She felt the phantom of Marvin sitting slumped on the box next to the metal desk, but couldn’t look back; her once strong, proud, and kind dad, now defeated and tired, but still thinking of her before himself. The echoes of his whisper were ice burns in her lungs. “Don’t go running around sticking your nose in dangerous places. Not again. Stay out of the shithole Umbrella has dug themselves in… Leave that to Redfield and the others… Stay safe. Forget about all this. Start a new life.”

No, she answered. Cowardice is over. 

“You did all you could,” Marvin insisted, spending all his remaining energy to beg her, a different man than the most stubborn goat he used to be, just to look out for her wellbeing — suffering himself, but still only thinking of her .  “You did your best, Vera.”

She hadn’t done enough , and that was about to change. For Raccoon City. For Marvin.  

Don’t think, thinking slows you down, slow gets you killed. 

Just move. 

Her hands were aware of what she should do more than her head or heart could. This was it from the start. She would feel it in her hands whenever instinct kicked in, fingers wiggled and her palms sweated — either itching to do something or make something. Vera was brain over brawn, but always thought it resided within her palms. Head was someone else, heart was another. She was the hands, and so she would move things, move people .  Get things done. Her hands had always made the improbable into reality, they crafted, they unmade — and now they would wrap around the neck of the haven of the clueless. 

The glint in her silver leer was akin to that of a reflecting light at the edge of a knife. All those responsible and all who turned away from those responsible, everyone , they all deserved to burn. And Vera would set her hands on fire for her redemption to move the flame along, be the match to spark a new circle of hell for the special wretched folk. 

It was about damn time. 

"I don't like the way you're looking," Leon interrupted her inner catharsis, apprehensive as he was concerned. 

A lazy, up-to-no-good Cheshire cat grin spread on her lips at that. 

After sitting down to clean both of their handguns and polishing them for good measure, she fought tooth and nail with Leon over joining him on the rest of the journey for the remaining medallion, and considering Claire, another civilian in his eyes, was on Vera's side and not accepting having to stay put, it was two against one. Well, two against two, when Marvin also supported Leon about the girls staying back. Claire wasn't having any of that, displaying a strong allergic reaction to being treated as she couldn't handle herself. More firepower for Vera, to be honest. 

It was an easy win when Vera had brought up how he was a walking, talking paradox, they were supposed to work together for survival but he insisted on doing things alone under the guise of protecting them. Leon didn't like being faced with the contradiction, and it felt terrible to put such a bothered expression on his face. 

Vera knew he did it all with good intentions and had no malicious bone in his body, but she was done taking it as an excuse to stay bubbled up in her comfort zone, done taking advantage of the well-meaning good deeds of him. He needed protection just as any other person in this literal state of emergency and she had little to no regard for his duties as a cop, he was a person to her — he was Leon , deserved shielding as any other person did, and she would protect him to the best of her abilities just as he selflessly protected her. 

Vera, not voicing her inner struggles of course,  had told them why she wanted to tag along. To document this disaster because clearly nobody was in the position to, for the sake of making their voices heard — she would get this all down so nobody could refute it and claim the citizens were caught in mass hysteria due to a case of rabies gone wild. Because they would. Umbrella's legal team somehow being able to save the day aside, that's exactly what the government would do to maintain stability in the country. 

Vera gave zero fucks about the wellbeing and the peace of mind of anybody, let them go insane for all she cared, they would remember Raccoon City, nobody would be able to forget it with this and declare it hadn't happened. 

Her primary objective was to grab one of the newly acquired Ricoh digital cameras from the darkroom that old-school officers had shelved as they were fond of their film rolls, and take videos along with pictures — the collection back at home she used for her job would provide better quality, but Marvin, naturally, had had no consideration for something insignificant such as a camera in the middle of a citywide emergency. 

Depending on how many external memory cards were available, the amount of photos and videos she took would change as well because she didn't want the outputs to be low in quality; higher quality took more space, and these models used four AA batteries to go, she hoped there wasn't any lack of them. Vera would have to be meticulous in handling and coordinating this. 

The more pressing problem, according to Leon, was Vera not being armed, only possessing a shovel to protect herself if things ever got chaotic, an alternate option had popped up in her head but she wasn't about to take away Marvin's last lifeline  for selfish reasons, thankful that borrowing his gun wasn't brought up at all. Though, it was back to helplessness all the same in the end. 

This made her a whole passenger princess, being dead weight he had to drag around was additional burden on Leon's shoulders and now Vera was on the same wavelength about getting that keycard to the shotgun so she could have something — or they could get to the STARS office to raid the armory, whichever would work. She had no business putting Leon and Claire in danger because of her. 

Leon had covered the entire first floor of the west wing, made sure any zombie he came across would stay down, and sealed any broken window he could, obsessively thorough if you will — he'd called it perimeter check; but Vera, literally sandwiched between him at point and Claire at her six, was glad for the completionist approach he had, the journey from the west office to the darkroom had taken less than three minutes with no bumps on the road except for the nauseating scenery of gore and blood hidden beneath the blanket of lightless rooms and occasionally lightning-lit dark corridors. 

Things you couldn’t see, you smelled . Vera could close her eyes or turn her head away if she didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t block the putrid, heavy odor of decay and over-spoiled meat out, hanging in the air like thick humidity would in the summer, it stuck to her skin and violated the back of her nose, made her see little shooting stars in her vision out of the reflex of her body wanting to throw up. Getting used to that was never a possibility, even when she had lived with it faintly lingering around the places assessed safe. 

She wasn’t alone in the sheer disgust shivering in her body, Claire had gagged the moment the smell in the west office had hit her, she was definitely stronger than Vera to control the contents of her stomach — all things considered, had her shit together better too, only a sharp intake of breath and a low curse each time she could discern something, but didn't lose herself like Vera had back then. 

Leon and Claire were frustratingly competent, and it was Vera that reacted normally to the world burning down around her, she was sure of it.  

The darkroom was a stark contrast to what laid outside of it, looking like a parallel universe where nothing had gone wrong and it was just a plain, old, boringly barren room save for a metal desk right in the middle of it hosting a typewriter with several files scattered on the surface, what looked to be an evidence locker facing the roller chair in front of it, and tall and narrow highschool type lockers for the benefit of personal uses of the officers directly to the right when entering from the door. The actual darkroom used for the development of photos was just ahead. The cameras she needed had to be stored in the evidence locker.

“We can rest here a bit if you both want to.” Leon checked the typewriter, running his fingertips over the paper still in place, and the sentence that was left incomplete. “The east side is uncharted territory and full of zombies, I don’t know how crowded it is but I know it’s going to be bad. Maybe you would like to, I don’t know, catch your breath before we go out there.” He looked at Vera, whose back was turned to him as she was going through the drawers of the locker in a heated manner. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

She finally found what she was looking for. A Ricoh RDC 300 — a pretty, silvery pink, in fact, shiny and clean as if it was bought yesterday. Perfect. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’ll be careful not to get in your way.” 

Vera took a peek at him while she turned the slim and rectangular camera around in her hand. Leon looked half-offended, and half-gloomy at something, she wasn’t sure what. “That’s not what I meant.”

Vera shrugged. “But it’s about that, isn’t it? You’re too nice not to say it, but I know. I’ll be out of the way, in my corner,” she made a walking gesture with her fingers, “Recording my stuff away, and when I get that Lightning Hawk or the shotgun, I’ll pay you back, pinky promise.” 

She was too far away to hook their pinkies, but she held her left one up anyway and wiggled it, a smile twitched at the ends of Leon’s lips, but it was but a weak spark in the cold, and he looked down bashfully. 

“She’ll be safe, we’ll cover her.” One of the locker doors Claire closed made an ear-scratching squeak, worse than nails on chalkboard to Vera, and she grimaced, her face almost folding in on itself. 

Leon hummed, eyes downcast, looking over a random document for some reason like it could be any use to fight the undead, spirits still low. Not knowing what else to say, Vera went back to her own business. Checked the batteries, all in place. Checked for batteries in the drawers, an unopened eight pack of them. Good. Memory cards? Five of them in total. Alright, she could do this. Thank hell’s bells for the officers for being this old school to not have used anything they stocked up on. 

“I’m glad this is a police station and this stuff is just laying about, imagine being stranded with no resources.” Claire was done looking through the other lockers, holding up a Maximum Standard brand box of 9mm parabellum handgun bullets. While reloading her revolver type small five-shot SLS60, she inquired. “Now what? What are we doing?”

“First things first,” Leon put the note down, tapping on it repeatedly with nervous energy. “We have to decide how we’re getting to that statue.” He was directly addressing Claire, she didn’t know what they were working with, and her vote would be the tie-breaker. “The final medallion is basically in something of a makeshift prison on the third floor, all locked away. There is a base for C4 planted on the bars already, we can blow it up. Or we can find something to pry the bars open for one person to slip through.”

“Claire also has to know,” Vera raised her eyebrows all the way to her hairline that they disappeared under her short bangs. “There are monsters here other than the zombies — think of it as overgrown mutated hellhounds — skinless —- blind and rely on sound only. They also have humongous claws and their tongue works like a frog’s. I know, ” she tilted her head and nodded to acknowledge the horror on Claire’s face. “They are much more deadly. An explosion will lure all of them.”

Claire shook her head, taking a second to recover from the unbelievable nature of the information she’d just been spoon-fed. “Then it should be our last resort.” 

“I know a bolt cutter is lying around somewhere.” Vera said to herself, forcing her memory. “I don’t remember where they took it, but it has to be out there. If you haven’t found it already Leon, then it’s definitely around the east wing.” 

Leon didn’t look hopeful. “If it’s a small one, I don’t think—”

“It’s big, like, I can’t carry it on my own big. I see you’re doubting me, but this is what we’ll do, we won’t use it to snap the iron away.” She drew invisible lines in the air and held her index and middle fingers out, pressed flush together, and shoved them between the hypothetical bars, palm facing up, and started opening her fingers, like how a scissor would. “Two of us will hold each handle and we’ll crank as much as we can. I know those things are damaged from the previous explosions already, they’ll give out.”

Leon was more interested in Claire, who had her arms crossed and was covering her face. “Why are you laughing?”

Claire tried so hard to keep it cool. “No, I’m sorry, carry on.”

“I’m missing something here.”

“No,” The younger one coughed to conceal a fit of laughter. “No, it’s fine.”

Vera gave her a knowing look. “Oh, kiddo. Laughing at that , really?”

“Come on, not the kiddo—” Vera was self-satisfied and Claire scoffed at that. “And hey, you’re not entirely innocent here, there’s no way you didn’t say those things like that on purpose.”

Leon looked like he was ready to whine ‘I need an adult’ in about a minute. “ Great , now there’s two of them.”

Vera shook the camera and pointed it at him. “Which means, you are the odd one out.” She clapped her hands like she was calling for a butler just outside the room. “Now, if we’re clear, I would love to continue the previous conversation about lickers before I further forget details.” Taking off her black backpack, she laid it on the desk and began rummaging through it. "Before you guys got here, me and the officers were working on a little project to deal with the problem. When it was for sure that the comms would stay unfixable, I had to rework it to help us survive so at least we had something, the transmitters weren't working so I took it apart.” Her hands held something up like it was her baby. “Made this."

Claire got closer to the metal desk like she had a hard time seeing what it was. "An... An mp3 player?"

"A modified mp3 player," Vera corrected. It was obviously a rather thick thing, two pieces having been wrapped together with vinyl black electrical tape. "What this does is allow me to stream music from any electronic device with a speaker in this place, powered up that is, of course. Works with radio waves. They're limited I know, but it's something."

She could see Claire wanted to take it and play around with it. "That sounds impossible, what the actual hell?"

"I dropped out of engineering school, I know my shit."

"That sounds like we should not be trusting you with this."

“Hey, kiddos who haven’t even chosen a major yet shouldn’t be talking.” 

“How did you even kno—”

"You'll come to see how special I am, eventually. He did." 

Vera leaned her head toward Leon, and he decided that was his turn to talk. "Yeah, real special. I could have used this knowledge before, y'know?"

“Valid question.” Not a question at all, not even a rhetorical one, only an underlying inquiry. Vera clicked her tongue against her teeth, sucking the air in. “I had given up at that point, so it didn’t even cross my mind. My brain got a reminder of it because I, in nature, am selfish and only get to work when it’s about me, so…” Her hands opened to the sides. “Do with that what you will.” 

It bothered her to no end Leon was looking at her that tenderly, like she had read him a poem of her own creation straight from her soul instead of simply being playfully mean. 

“So, uh.” She ignored him, tightness in her chest. “For it to work better, I suggest we fix the power to the east wing. Or the range is limited to the STARS office only I’m afraid.”

“One fuse was missing from the box on the wall, that’s why I had to crawl underneath,” Leon added. “You mean that, right?”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” Claire repeated, more to herself than anybody else, raising one finger for each objective. “Getting missing bolt cutters, some keycard for a locked shotgun, valve for a busted pipe blocking the way to an office, and now the fuse. Which one do we prioritize?”

Leon huffed with primordial fatigue, like he was a retired old race horse that had been put into race one more time against his will.  “Whichever one we stumble on first.”

This was the second time now. Stumbling on the thing he was searching for right after voicing his need for it, Leon wasn’t sure if it was his or Vera's luck. 

The keycard to the weapons locker room was found randomly lying around on a coffee table in an art room of all places, quite literally thrown at their faces as a blessing at the beginning of their descent into the east wing. Circling back to get the shotgun, then, would be lifting a massive weight from his chest. Now Vera didn’t have to be completely defenseless against zombies anymore —

— is what he was thinking, and Vera, stopping filming everything, had gone and quite literally lifted a zombie off him when he'd fallen down, shoving the wooden handle of her shovel between the thing's teeth and making it bite down on the wood instead of Leon's shoulder, the position reminiscent of a dog carrying a branch.

Leon, sprawled on the ground and propped up on his forearms, watched in awe, his jaw slack.

The choked sounds of the zombie snarling and gurgling and crunching of the handle at it harshly biting down scratched his ears, blending into the sounds of Claire's cracked and high-pitched, yet powerful scream-cursing at two other zombies closing in to get the fuck away from her and shooting. 

Vera did say, they will overwhelm you, and you don't want to be alone when it happens. Leon thought he knew what she'd meant by that, and also reckoned he'd manage to slip by and run, convinced in his heart he was better than letting that kind of thing happen. 

They were ambushed leaving the art room and things had fallen into chaos scarily quick to Leon's liking.

He had let his guard down too much. Got too confident. Because Vera had had his back until now, and always informed him of the precinct — he'd given all his weight to lean on her unconsciously. God, this was humiliating . Leon was supposed to be better than this. and yet somehow created the illusion that he was so methodical and in control this far. Fuck, he would have been gone by now if he didn't have Claire and Vera with him. He was bit, it was over in the span of a blink if Vera hadn't hugged a zombie from behind and did what she did. 

The survivalist kicked him in the stomach, left in his mouth the taste of the permanent gunpowder on his father’s hands. Claire's gun has five shots, one more and she has to fall back to reload, get it together, Leon thought, knocking the initial shock out of himself with concentration and springing back on his feet, bracing Matilda to shoot the thing Vera pushed sideways. He faltered and cringed when she swung the shovel down with all her might, smacking it in the head good, causing a loud clang to echo in the hallway with the metal end. He was surprised the zombie's head didn't fall off from how strong the impact was.

Leon finished it off, nodding appreciatively to Vera, he couldn’t see her face from how wild and tangled her hair was because of the struggle, but she somehow saw him doing that and nodded back as well. 

Claire used her last shot.

He was in front of her in a flash, shielding the girl fumbling with the revolver, a couple cartridges fell to the ground as she missed the slots. Leon didn’t waste time getting rid of the remaining zombie in two bullets directly into the noggin, expression tight in focus. The high capacity magazine worked wonders not letting his ammo run out when he had to fire back to back, reload time meant life and death in his situation. 

And then silence fell, broken in by heavy breathing from the three survivors, Leon had Matilda up and aimed still, following the corridor up and down to check if there are any other threats, and Claire crouched to pick up the fallen cartridges, and some of them were under the zombie that fell over, and she pushed the body off with a sound of disgust. 

Vera gave her back to the wall directly next to the art room door and sagged, hands on her knees. "That was a workout."

And a heart attack to Leon. 

"You're good, though." Claire arose, stashing the ones she picked up to the pouch at the back of her belt, dusting off her hands against her jeans afterwards. "Who thought a shovel would work that well?" 

Taking the camera out and taking a few photos, "Not Leon, obviously," Vera joked, and the name got his attention, he stopped looking at the door with the glowing exit sign above it. 

“ Shovel me impressed,” Leon  called, hearing Claire audibly groan at that, and once he was sure they were alone, he walked back, giving both girls a look-over, they didn't seem harmed. "You two okay?"

“Still in one piece,” Claire said, eyes dead at him from the previous joke. Hm. She didn’t like them as much, huh. 

Vera was examining the teeth mark and the splinters on the shovel, distasteful. "Can we get the shotgun already?" 

Leon voiced his thoughts on it for the first time. “You sure you’ll be able to use it?” He’s afraid of getting some kind of backlash for it, but for their survival, it had to be said. “I was thinking of giving Matilda to you and taking it myself. Don’t take it the wrong way, I know you have gun training, as a detective you must have carried a pistol with you — but it’s still not a shotgun.” 

Vera pressed her thick lips together and Leon tensed, thinking it was to hold something back — she appeared formidable when her face was neutral and all signs of friendliness pulled back from her face, it’s the shape of her eyes with the whites underneath the irises and how her eyebrows arch above them that gave her that natural razor-edged look, he’s never noticed it before, but even the smallest frowns made her look grim. “Okay,” she agrees gingerly. “Nothing to do about that, right? Logic is logic.” 

An uncomfortable itch settled out of reach in his chest. This girl had argued with him over the littlest things in the past hours, it didn’t feel good to have her give it up this easily. “Not gonna be a shotgun supremacist? It doesn’t deserve to be abandoned like that.” 

Claire eyed them in confusion, but recognition had sparked up Vera’s expression, and that was enough for him. It made her laugh in the end, the sound persevering against the carnage surrounding them lifting his mood up regardless. 

She pushed her body off the wall, straightening her back, akin to a stretching cat. “I did shoot my shot .”

“No,” Claire’s face twisted in distaste, fed up, she revolved around them to open the door to the waiting room, not stopping for them to follow. “I’m not listening to this corniness. Absolutely not. We are leaving.”

“She just doesn’t get us,” Vera bumped her shoulder to him, cordial, and spoke as if they were sharing a private conversation. “Kids these days.”

“I heard that!”

Leon adapted well and fast, but the change of face to dark and gloomy corridors to the well-lit space of the safety deposit room attacked his senses, the overhead lights were harsh with their potent white accent that washed the walls in an unappealing brightness that bounced back and stabbed his vision, accompanied by the unpleasant buzzing sound that radiated. Several weapon lockers lined each end of the wall, forming a spine to spine section in the middle of the room (he raided) before meeting a grating screen in the back that separated heavier firearms from the rest of the room.

That’s where his shotgun was. Leon’s hands were itching to get a hold of it, and he almost hugged it close when the keycard unlocked the box with a cheery beep. It smelled wonderful, polished and untouched. His shotgun. To think that the happiness of finding hip pouches to carry more could ever be topped. 

What should he name it? 

Leon was so invested that he didn’t notice Vera equipping herself with a shoulder holster next to him, only snapping out of it when she said, “Having a marriage ceremony in your head or something?”

He wanted to shoot something back at that, but the words died in his tongue as he finally detected the black leather framing her shoulders and the harness connecting it across her chest, a bit lower than her clavicles. It strangely looked too good on her, contrasted with the pink of her shoulderless skin-tight turtleneck, sending restless energy to his limbs. 

“Eyes up.”

Huh?

One raised eyebrow from her sent Leon going beet red in the span of a few seconds, about to overheat in the RPD riot uniform. 

The next minutes were a clumsy mess of him handing Matilda to her and mumbling irrelevancies about how she needs to take good care of her and how Matilda is the first gun he bought with his own money to avoid the fact that he was leering at her chest in broad daylight — right to Vera’s face, might he add. He was looking at the holster, but, shit, still. Why did the strap have to be horizontally above—

Stop. 

Why was Claire all the way over the other corner of the room anyway?  

Finally, he said an overdue, “Thank you,” to Vera, attempting to cough the little knot of embarrassment coiling around his Adam’s apple. “For what you did back there. With the, uh… With the shovel, choking the thing and all that.”

Leon knew what it took her to fight like that, he recalled crystal clear how she subtly relaxed every time he reassured, or, rejected her half-baked attempts to help him, she was scared as any other person could get. That’s why Leon admired how resolve and purpose had gifted Vera a certain tenacity, like liquid metal finishing the solidification process. 

To be saved this way by a person who overcame her fear, for him, — to feel protected , when he is the one who should be doing it disappointed and angered Leon towards himself. But the child in him was moved to tears, he hasn’t received shielding like that, ever, other than the officer who saved and overlooked his foster care system process. It made everything worse. There was no time for this kind of thing.  

She swayed her torso left and right, clasping her hands at her waist, a mischievous child at the eve of trick or treat. “So, what’s my reward for saving your life?”

He blinked, sweeped away from negative thoughts, befuddled, and managed to give a blundering smile. “Gratitude from the depths of my heart?”

Vera laughed at him, as she did often without him understanding the reason most of the time, and said, “You’re cute.” 

She tapped his arm as she passed him by, sending shivers to the surrounding area in ripples, walking away to find Claire, he could hear their distant talking, but the place she’s touched was burning despite the clothing material, and he was pretty sure the wires in his brain had gotten rearranged by the woody, sweetish-honeyed, vivid-spicy tone of her breath he caught a whiff off again and he was feverish for absolutely no reason now.

It took a helicopter crashing into the building to get him to stop thinking about it. 

They heard it first, the all-too familiar sound of the rotor blade beating against the air and Leon instantly thought back to the radio of the mangled police officer the very first time he ventured into the building. 

“This is 73-Bird—for rescue. —heading east—River. Touchdown at RPD—minutes.”

This was no military, but yes, someone who could fly them away was coming. 

Claire, Vera and he glanced at each other with the same dazed, questioning way— all three couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it’s good to be true. And it proved to be that way, as well, the sound got closer, closer , more alarming, spiraling frenzied like a fly caught between the curtain and the window, and Leon’s instincts took over, his hands shot forward to catch Claire and Vera by their arms to have a hold on both of them, and pulled them down with him on the ground to for collision, just as the ground below them almost gave out with the impact of being hit. It’s as if RPD was a toy house and the child playing with it was shaking it. The crash stole his hearing away for a little while, and ringing in the ears followed, yet he checked if the girls were fine. Stunned and shaken, yes, they’ll live, he decided. 

Rubble falling and the rustle of dust flying around ebbed in, and Vera took off unexpectedly, he called after her, pulse quickening, but she didn't stop and rounded the corner. The curse he sputtered was panicked. 

Claire and he moved to go after her, but the girl opened the door to the exit to step out in the rain, to get a better look at the crash site, he supposed. He didn’t move away too much to have both of them in his field of vision. Vera, one hand covering her mouth in shock, stood where her knees looked like they were about to give out any second at the end of the corridor rounding another one, and Claire held tight on to the railing of the stairs going down, flashlight directed to the crashed helicopter.   

“Someone’s in there,” Claire yelled at them. “We need to pull him out!”

Leon knew the guy is dead, the way he’s slumped over, shoulders not rising and falling to indicate any breathing — Claire didn’t see it, but he did. There’s no way anyone would make it out of that kind of crash alive. 

As if it’s on cue, everything caught on fire, the orange glow washed over Vera as she took a couple steps backwards. Leon’s heart dropped to his stomach, he stretched an arm out to her to beckon Vera back to their side. “Vera, it’s going to explode any minute, come here!” 

“Hold on,” she said, taking the camera out and flipping the screen up, fingers shaking as she pressed a button, not a fan of what she was doing in the slightest. “Let me get this on footage…”

“Don’t get too close, it’s dangerous,” Leon warned. 

Vera didn’t take much, and jogged back to step out outside just beside Claire to film it from another angle. “I don’t know how war photographers do this,” she lamented, and Leon understood then, not being able to save the pilot and now having to film the metal cage on fire containing his corpse was eating at her. “I feel like shit.”

“You can stop any time, you know?” Claire reached out gently. 

“I don’t have the luxury to stop,” Vera sighed, snapping the camera shut, the rain on her doubled the melancholy dripping from her voice, but she was stern with herself. Claire put a hand on her shoulder and patted understandingly, and Vera’s face turned down to look down at the sight. 

Leon only saw her profile from where he was standing, she was bitter, but at least Claire was sharing it with her. They all stood in silence, paying respects to the passed pilot. 

There’s one thing, though. What made the helicopter spiral out of control was Chinese water drop torture to Leon’s brain — he couldn’t have been infected and the possibility that it was hit is a whole other can of worms, it’s all a giant hand squeezing Leon from his ribcage and not allowing him to breathe to the full capacity. Leon sensed a threat, but couldn’t explain why. 

He had to forget about it for now, because Claire dangled half her body down the railing. “Is that the bolt cutters we are searching for?”

Vera leaned to find what Claire’s looking at, the tops of her turtleneck a darker pink already because of the rain. “Oh shit, it is. Who left it lying around on a barrel?” 

She attempted to skip down the stairs but Leon caught her from the elbow, gently pulling her behind his back, the ends of his fingers not covered by the glove warmed up — he’d done that without thinking and panicked that he moved Vera like that, he could have just told her to stop and that she shouldn’t rush into places and that he was point, damn it. She also had Matilda now, he needed to trust her more. 

Leon’s face heated up, but he didn't want to dwell on it, taking the W-870 out (he was stuck between Wendy and Willa for the name), going down ahead of her with steady steps carefully — observing and listening. She asked who could have left it there and it had given him the idea that a zombie might be waiting for them, concealed by the stairs. 

He was right. Snarling and hissing became audible the more he descended, but there was also metal furiously clanging against metal. The zombie had been handcuffed to the railing, a final attempt by the officer it used to be, no doubt. Leon puts it out of his misery, and gives the two the signal to come down.  

Vera was also right, the bolt cutter was bulky and nearly half her height. While she could barely lift it, Claire took it with no difficulty, cutting the chains around the door’s handle  — they at long last had secured the way out of here, maybe he was ahead of himself when they didn’t have the medallion yet but Leon now believed they really could pry open the bars with this and get to the statue. 

It’s done. 

They circled back to the place where Officer Edward got teared in two, and a wave of nausea went up Leon’s esophagus at remembering all the blood and the sheer mass of bowels, and the odor, god, the odor.  

“We should go back from where we came,” Vera interrupted the fight in Leon to let the stomach acid stay in its place. “The shutter at the end of this road is closed, remember?”

Leon needed to smell some mint or chew gum or something, his insides were feeling like they were moving the more he remembered Officer Edward. He forced himself to think—something else. “I, uh…” He swallowed, but there was no spit in his mouth, it all evaporated. “There was another door around this level we could open with the bolt cutters.”

Vera trailed the path to where he was looking with her own eyes. Her face fell. “Ah,” she mumbled. 

Claire didn’t let them fall into awkward silence, as they had guests, she aimed her revolver and started firing at the little group of zombies that were slowly heading toward them. “Heads up, guys.”

Vera had her camera ready before Matilda, and filmed a little tidbit first as Leon also joined the fight. When she was done and satisfied, she took Matilda out. “Finally I get to test this pretty girl. Let’s see how sharp you are.” 

Leon was a classic weaver stance user, that was the most common way the police used a handgun, and he also used the Harries technique to go along with it as well. Vera opted for one-handed shooting, and did something he hadn’t really seen before —  curling her non-shooting hand into a fist and bringing it up to her body with the palm facing her, the arm to her hip level, and holding it close to the chest, exactly like the classic karate punch. She knew what she was doing. One-handed shooting was something that was mastered after having basic training. 

She was a good shot as well, it shouldn’t have been this surprising to Leon, the girl was something of a gunsmith, and her father was a policeman — if she hadn’t picked it up herself Lt. Branagh must have taught her. And with her added to the firepower, they’d cleared out the zombies pretty quickly, all things considered.

“This is supposed to be the east office,” Vera said. 

Claire got rid of the chains once more. “They must have shut it down like this for a reason.”

Leon cocked the shotgun. “I’m hearing zombies inside, get ready. ”

He didn’t expect Claire kicking the door open. Leon was hoping for a sneakier approach such as simply twisting the knob, as one did when entering a room, but Claire obviously thought differently. The sound woke otherwise dead and harmless looking zombies. Leon didn’t think this was planned and calculated by Claire, but it was the right move nevertheless, they got rid of them pretty fast. The shotgun was incredibly effective, one shot was enough to put one down for good. 

Upon exploration, they found the large capacity fuse to be used on the shutter at the end of the hallway to gain access to the main hall, and the valve handle to stop the steam in the men's locker room that would allow them a way into the west side of the place. Additionally, he’d helped himself to a flash grenade and hooked it to his Sam Browne, while Vera was more interested in a green herb and some gunpowder. 

She got a bit moody, stuffing the things she got in her backpack. “This is going too smoothly and I’m worried now.”

“You’re gonna jinx it,” Claire hushed her.

 

She jinxed it. 

In hindsight, Leon should have been suspicious about the lack of activity from the infamous lickers Vera couldn’t stop talking about. In her own words, they were monsters compared to the zombie mainstream. 

She’d even built a whole mechanism around these things — wonder when that had become customary to Leon and not some insane work of wonder that should have blown his mine just as it did Claire’s? Molding himself to fit in the best shape for survival had taken away his sense of normalcy, the questioning of the weird , he got used to anything uncannily pronto. Claire did that enough to fill his shoes at the moment, and Leon kept the wanting to cross the bridge when he got there mindset moving for their sake. He hadn’t forgotten about the lickers, but wasn’t hyperfocused on it either, there were other immediate objectives that required his priority. 

It went down like this: 

Things were smooth sailing after clearing out the east office, Leon wanted to cover the whole ground because if they were to open the shutter, Lt. Branagh would be out in the open to any zombie coming from the east side, so they had done that instead of avoiding zombies for the sake of not wasting any ammo. 

One pitch stop to drop the herbs they had gathered for Lt Branagh later, it was time to make for the STARS office and stock on all the gear they could before they got the hell out of the station for good, they would be carrying the lieutenant around and moving a lot slower to accommodate him — it was essential to keep moving to not be caught by zombies, so more firepower had to fill in for the lack of speed. 

The valve had fit perfectly to close the steam off, easy to crank, too. The sitting dead body on the built-in bench right in front of them when they passed the blown wall to the women’s locker room slumped onwards and fell, but wasn’t a zombie. 

Things started going south the moment they stepped into the west hallway of the second floor. Leon was immediately attacked with the whistling and whooshing of a strong wind accompanied by the persistent pitter pattering of rain — a window was shattered, and shattered was an understatement , it was nearly gone, made more sinister by the end of the corridor obscured by shadows. Something was wrong. The hair at the back of Leon’s neck stood up as a series of chills went down his spine. His immediate train of thought made a sharp turn to, “What did that?” 

He motioned for the girls to stand behind him, brow crinkled with distress, unusually quiet about it. If one of them asked why, he didn’t have any reason other than something being off. 

He scanned the area posthaste, the door opened to a little foyer before the corridor started directly continuing ahead to the right. To his left in the bottom corner were a lot of stacked furniture varying from barrels to chairs and a platform ladder, and a little crevice formed between them and the coffee machine next to it. The automat didn’t exactly fit to the corner, because a coffee table took space directly flush to the leather couch of the other wall, but still, a person could stand in the small cranny left available in the curve. 

The couch in the corridor had some 12-gauge shotgun shells and he got them slowly, cocking the barrel open and reloading the weapon. Vera came up to him while Claire checked out the coffee machine, but he tapped his lips with an index finger, wordlessly telling her to stay quiet, eyebrows hanging low on his face. She, thankfully, got the hint, and shook her head as if to ask what’s wrong, and with the help of the light of his flashlight bouncing off the wall, he could see the concerned glimmer in her silver eyes.  

He heard tapping. They both did. 

It sounded like a dog with untrimmed nails walking on a laminate floor, except, the direction was off , it came from above. 

Leon, ever so slowly, lifted his flashlight up — it revealed something stuck to the ceiling. At first glance, a fleshy blob. 

He didn’t get to reconsider as the thing screeched; shrill, inhuman, feral. 

Vera’s exhale stuttered and his body thought faster than his brain did, hooking an arm around her neck and cupping a hand on her mouth before it could transform into an audible hiccup, that way, she was pulled flush against the nook that formed between the side of his body and his arm, one would think they were giving each other half-hugs to pose for a picture. 

Her shaky warm breath was on the exposed part of his fingers and tickled his skin, but Leon couldn’t check on her. He was frozen in place as an overly thick lasso looking limb shot out from it, and grabbed the body lying directly before the broken window. Then the crunching came. Worse than a dog eating bones. 

— and the squish of something wet and soft and gummy, followed by liquid pouring on the ground with each bite. 

What the fuck. What the fuck. 

Vera wasn’t exaggerating. She wasn’t exaggerating at all. This thing had the form of a humanoid, but not the appearance — flayed off skin, exposed skeleton and glistening bloodied muscles straight from an anatomy class, the whole brain exposed with no sign of scalp anywhere with pulsating veins all around… And the mouth, all protruding, ravening sharp fangs, all fangs , munching on skin and bones as if it was buttered toast. It clung to the ceiling with all fours like a bat would, four skeletal claws nailed into the concrete, not one predator in the wild had anything of the sort, it was something out of a horror movie. 

And it was too close. 

He looked at Claire, she was a deer in the headlights in front of the machine, the flashlight on the thing had made it visible to her as well. Leon, yet again, brought an index finger to his lips, miming her to move to the little crevice between the coffee table and the automat, overly exaggerating his lip movement to spell, “Slowly.”

She did without sound, her revolver was out and ready, her back to the corner, unblinking wide eyes not leaving the licker even for one second. 

Leon tried to even and quiet his breathing, and not let the shaking get the better of him. Good, good . Now to back off with Vera. 

His thumb tapped her on the cheek to get her attention, and he dropped it off her face when she met his eyes to point at the alcove between the stacked furniture and the coffee machine. He had her move behind him, his back to her front as they synchronized their steps to retreat —

— Further and further… 

As the licker moved with them, too, stalking closer to them, trilling and moving its head around. 

His fingertips found the smooth handle of the shotgun strapped to his back, gripping it but not taking it out yet, afraid the tiniest rustle would get that thing’s attention. Every little creak instantaneously was a thousand times louder to his ears — like he was the licker now, time crawling to a slow-down as the possibilities unfurled just before his eyes.

He stopped in his tracks the moment heard the crinkle of Vera’s backpack pushing against the wall, but still his back was pressing against Vera wary and guarding enough for her breathing to fan the back of his neck like he could somehow make her disappear. His heart beat furiously, blood racing to the tips of his fingers in hot waves that caused everything else to pulse, including the corners of his vision.

Vera’s breathing got more shallow and rapid as the licker closed in on them, he was sensing some movement from her behind him and— and if it reached its tongue out, it would be able to brush the top of Leon’s head when —

Killing Time by Metallica?

Rock music had begun to blast with the strength of a thousand suns somewhere around the corridor… The STARS office! 

It was so loud that the licker’s scream didn’t even reach his ears as it scrambled towards the source of the music, away from them at last, but he did hear Vera whisper, “Oh thank fuck.” 

Leon stiffened when her falling head collided with the naked skin of his nape, the hair on her brow tickling him. She had literally melted against him, oh god. 

Warm air from her panting got under his uniform, and glided straight down his bare back, sending pleasant surges of goosebumps all over his heating body. He couldn’t control the treacherous shudder, and the change of his heart’s pace, getting appalled at himself right after, what kind of person would feel that certain way when seconds ago they were about to—

That thought slipped from his hands like a balloon taking off when Vera sharply pulled back from him upon noticing Leon doing that, and said, “Shit, sorry.” 

The husky, low, yet feminine voice right behind his ear didn’t help. Not in the slightest. 

But Claire did. She snapped him out of it, scream-whispering, “What the fuck do we do,” but it wasn’t enough to overcome the intensity of the rock music and call the licker back to them, fortunately.

He took a couple steps forward to give Vera (himself) more room to breathe, he was on fire right now because of the threat of the licker , not for anything else, he told himself — assured so. “I’m gonna shoot that son of a bitch down.”

The accumulated energy had to go somewhere. 

Vera gripped the mp3 player tighter. “Leon, those things are tough—”

“Their brains are right in the open, yeah, it may be tough for someone who doesn’t know where to aim, but I got this.” He finally pulled the W-870 out. “I also have a shotgun.”

A couple stressful moments of frenzy once discovering that thing to be a jumper later, powered up by Killing Time to oddly gas him up, Leon had it over with, proving his hypothesis about the exposed brains to be right with no injury coming out of the fight. It was a good thing he’d told both of them to stay behind, because with the rate that licker trashed around to land a hit on him, one of them was bound to become collateral damage and he did not want to think about that — firing a shotgun in a narrow space was also an immediate no with crowding around him. 

Vera was just around the corner filming the whole thing, and the tingling at his nape didn’t fade away the whole time, but  at last, the STARS office.

Leon had to admit this place was the most pleasant one to be in compared to everywhere else, at least nobody had died and reanimated here. The navy blue walls and the classic wood wainscoting were clean and remarkably shiny, the trophies and pinboards adorning every wall were neat and tidy; though moving boxes, scattered papers all around the back-to-back wooden work desks and out of place cream rolling chairs made it seem like a whole hurricane had passed through the room — it just wasn’t the zombie kind. 

The office had four workstations, two of which were split desks that could accommodate two persons each, for a total of six desks. What seemed to be the captain's desk also was tucked away within a tiny private office to the left as they entered through the door. The armory, housing a variety of superior weaponry compared to the security deposit room, was positioned on the left side of the office, while dispatch radio equipment was located on the right side. It clearly had been tampered with and panels were left open with a toolbox lying around on the ground, making it clear this was Vera’s doing as her statement was that she had been working on getting the comms up and running before.

“Oh my god,” Claire pushed through, making a beeline for something that had gotten her attention. “That belongs to Chris!”

She was referring to the brown version of the same Made in Heaven leather jacket of hers hanging from the wall directly under some trophies, one of them reading “Marksman Contest Winner: Chris Redfield”. Rushing there and shoving the chairs away, she gripped the shoulders and the hems of it lovingly, and accidentally kicked the electric guitar leaning away from the wall. 

Hearing the sound it made, Vera teases Claire from the computer desk she’d immediately made herself home in. “Careful with that! Man, kids these days.”

Leon was busy looking over the desks and getting little tidbits about the people they belonged to, he raised his head to smile at Claire scoffing at that. 

He asked, “What are you up to?” 

“Getting this armory open,” she responded absentmindedly, clacking away at the keyboard. Some loading bars and code at the half of the screen showed up and flowed down, but he didn't really understand any of it. Hacker too? Literally who was this girl? “Normally this requires a USB dongle key exclusive to STARS members only, but we can’t be bothered to start a manhunt for that. I’m brute forcing my way in. It’s gonna take a sec, so make yourselves comfortable.” 

Claire already had, Leon assumed she’d found her brother’s desk and it was why she had taken a seat on the chair and looked through the drawers and the computer. 

Leon didn’t let the question stay inside to crawl around like a worm later. “How do you have such a variety of skills?” 

“I was a restless kid,” was her explanation, with the flattest tone ever. “Wanted to do a lot, interested in a lot, got bored too quickly so moved a lot. My dad indulged me.”

“That can’t be it.”

“I also am a genius, so that helped.”

Claire thought she was kidding, so she laughed at it — Vera had told them she dropped out of college after all, but Leon was ready to believe what she was saying, there was no other explanation for the things he’d seen she was capable of. “Genius how?”

“Finished K-19 at around twelve kinda genius.” Vera began to count, swaying left to right with each bullet point while she still worked on cracking the armory open. “Took an apprenticeship on gunsmithing for shits and giggles kinda genius. Entered Raccoon City University at fifteen kinda genius. Used to make robots kinda genius—”

Eyes wide as plates, he coughed. “Okay, I get it.”

He sort of had that figured out, but damn. How had he come across Inspector Gadget over here in the entire city during the zombie apocalypse? 

She was too good to be real, what the hell?

Leon really had spent all of the luck he would have in his life for this very encounter: — Vera would fix the combat knife whenever it was at the brink of breaking, watch his back for enemies using the security cameras, had the maintenance of Matilda going until she had joined him and Claire for the journey but even then she was handling the making of ammo with gunpowder that the other two didn’t have it down quite yet — and now bypassing a security system because she didn’t want to go look for a key? 

He was having a hard time accepting a person like this could exist and he couldn’t hide it from seeping out to his exterior, though it was more of a baffled admiration than anything. 

“And, açıl susam açıl.” There was a particularly strong keystroke that elicited a beep from the armory, the grated door sliding open. She spinned in the chair to face them, legs crossed and hands meeting each other in devious pride under her chin, striking a villain pose. “Can hack my way through kinda genius.” She stared Claire down, who had slowly risen out of the chair in disbelief, and gestured to the opened area with a hospitable hand. “Ladies first.”

Ladies first, huh, so much for the chivalry. 

Because they had started to bicker in the shake of a lamb’s tail over the 24-round capacity .380 ACP submachine gun and the Lightning Hawk, a 7-round capacity .50 AE MAG like two girls fighting over a guy in one of those cheesy soap operas. 

Leon wasn’t even given a choice as he apparently had the shotgun and should be content with that. 

In the end, Vera had ended up with the Lightning Hawk, because the magnum used rare MAG ammo, which she knew how to make with gunpowder, and the submachine gun used standard cartridges that would be more useful in Claire’s hands as — the only setback about the magnum, Vera said, was that it was too loud and had a lengthy focus time, mumbling something about how a gun shop had the perfect suppressor for it and how sweet it would be to go get that.  

She tried to return Matilda back to him, but he let her keep it, advising to conserve the magnum in case another one of those lickers popped up somewhere, Leon was pretty sure it was more effective and powerful than the shotgun and would one-shot them on the spot. 

He got a clove as thanks in return for that, another mystery solved as to why she smelled nice, and before he could dwell on it, they were moving again, this time, for the final destination. 

The question "What happened here?" from Claire, after seeing the demolished state of the west storage room got Vera wound tighter than wire past its breaking point, posture an iron rod as she stalked behind them, a drag in her steps transitioning into fast and on the border of stomping, it doesn't escape Leon. It appeared like he's not paying any attention, but really, his eye was on her. That thing about Vera blatantly avoiding the subject and lying after instigating she knew exactly what happened resurfaced from the back rooms he'd temporarily forced it into. 

Something about the way she gripped the handle of the bolt cutter with Claire whilst Leon grabbed the other screamed she wanted to take it and bash it everywhere she could, facial features so controlled that it was on the verge of breaking to reveal something. A layer here was invisible to them, no, they were prohibited from entry. 

For what reason, Leon could only imagine, but not even the success of prying the bars open when it was an incredible victory could get her to express genuine happiness, she was somewhere else distant, dissociating as Claire had exclaimed a vindictively excited, "Yes!", throwing the bolt cutter away as if it was a mic drop. Only a shadow of a smile presented itself on Vera, but it was still short-lived, instead, she separated from her backpack and slipped in to reach the other side, not even sparing a brief look at the scattered bodies to her right, glowering at the statue instead. 

"Notebook?" 

Leon handed what she wanted to her, unfortunately the space was too small for him to force his way through, Claire and Vera did fit, though. He was stuck gripping the bars like a prisoner longing for the outside while they were obscured by the gigantic woman statue, only the ticking sound of the puzzle turning was audible, but compared to the other ones, something similar to a door's rusty hinges was there.

Someone was frantically flipping through the puzzle, and it was Vera. The flashlight was being moved around. "Fucking hell, everything's so dirty, I can't see shit. Do you think that's the girl?"

"I only know the middle one is definitely the bow and arrow, see this poking out here?"

"Yeah, that's fixed, then. Good eye, kiddo. I'm gonna go ahead and assume this is the head and hope for the best." A tongue clicking by Vera. "Nobody thought to clean this up? That ass is a fan of these statues, why'd he leave this one unattended?"

Leon perked up. She meant Chief Irons — had referred to him as an art fanatic before. 

"Who?" 

"The chief," she said, not hiding it. "He's obsessed with his art collection, you'd think he would send someone to keep this one clean. Look at the state of it."

"Yeah, with all this gunk... I don't know, I'm totally lost on the serpent."

"Serpent?" She let out a scandalized gasp. "Fancy word. Smart for a kid."

Claire laughed light-heartedly. "Can you stop with that?"

Leon was feeling left out here.

"Maybe when you're in your thirties. And that's a strong maybe." 

"Hey, uh," He called in the end. "What's taking so long?

"The puzzle's all rusted so we can't really see the symbols," Claire explained. 

In Vera's sigh existed the inconsolable anger fit of a child. "Process of elimination it is."

Lt. Branagh was — he wasn’t awake. No movement. 

He used to be restless, twitching and groaning, hissing with the pain of his injury, not able to fall asleep and only drifting off into a torturous cycle of half-consciousness thanks to whatever the herbs were doing. The sight of him motionless dropped into his stomach, leaden and tight, every muscle in his body tensing up like overly tuned violin strings. His automatic reaction was to seek Vera, whom he couldn’t even witness the reaction of, he’d frozen up while she had run ahead to get to her father’s side. 

Claire, making it so Vera couldn’t hear, trailed off into a wobbly, “Is he—”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, hands fisted at his sides, not able to avert his eyes from the sight of how despairing and urgent Vera was calling for the man to wake up, hands all over his shoulders, torso and body, checking for anything. “Let’s get this open.”

“Leave it to me,” Claire affirmed, taking the final medallion from him hurriedly. “Go check on them, she’s panicking.”

“Got it.”

He was sicker — much, much sicker, the color of his complexion was nearly all ashen, and the blood had blackened into a darker color to suggest the injury was probably arterial, but Leon couldn't fathom how, as the place he was harmed wasn't near any major arteries. A horrible, terrible, omination filled his lungs with water, a possibility so destructive that even considering it was something his brain was protecting him from by shutting that down immediately. 

Still, no matter. He was still breathing, he was alive. Leon wasn’t about to abandon this man to die and he certainly wasn’t going to leave a daughter fatherless. He would carry the lieutenant on his back all the way outside the city if he had to. 

Leon refused this portrait of tragedy, he wasn’t going to let down the people he was to protect. 

Grinding and scraping rising from the friction between stone and metal rose from where Claire had gone, and Leon momentarily glanced behind to see the goddess statue's platform rolling down and away, unveiling an elegant iron gate and darkness beyond where only heavy specks of dust danced around. 

“I’m waking him,” Vera swallowed thickly, her hand on Lt. Branagh’s shoulder, a pleading shine to her eyes that she probably wasn’t aware was there. She looked so small in that moment, not at all the confident young woman she was moments ago, crouched between the crate and the couch. “We gotta go.”

The gentle approach wasn’t working from what Leon had seen. Had he lost that much blood? 

So he puffed out his chest and stepped forward to reach out and shake him awake, voice loud and determined. “Lieutenant Branagh! Marvin! It’s time to go!”

The strength and speed which the man shot out from his place of rest, and the snarl he hissed caused both of them to recoil back — the growl, that growl, Leon knew. 

He knew , but he couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be.  

“Hey, Marvin…” He raised his hands like he was approaching a feral animal, Vera was still very much in shock. “We need to get you to help right now.”

Lt. Branagh’s glassy, unseeing eyes found Vera — scared and startled, what he saw snapped him out of whatever he was going through, it truly woke him up, and Leon thought the man was about to collapse any minute, panting ragged and shaky, full on whimpering in agony.

“Dad,” Vera exhaled, touching his knee, and the lieutenant flinched away, slumping sideways and away. “Dad,” she tried again, trying not to let the hurt into her voice, but her face told otherwise, Lt. Branagh couldn’t see because he wasn’t looking, but Leon could. “We got the passageway open, let’s get going, c’mon.”

That weak voice did some shit to him that hurt Leon on a physical level; he had to clench his eyes shut as if a hit was coming his way and inhaled deeply — get it together, he ordered himself. 

A sudden shift in his demeanor happened and the snakes of anxiety that something bad was going to happen spread under Leon’s skin. This was a big whiplash. “Fine.” It was torture to see him pry himself off the couch, refusing to be helped when Vera reached out. “Lead the way.” 

Vera also didn’t understand, but wanted to hold him anyway. “Okay… Hold on to me—”

He snatched his arm away from her, looking forward directly at something, hawk-focused, features twisted grim. “Let the goddamn way, go.”

Claire, watching everything without withholding the pity, looked away and went down the stairs, guided by her flashlight, when she knew for sure all of them were following her. When Leon looked down to see how the mechanism had been reworked to open up, he noticed the three medallions were on the three steps each, leading to the stairs going underground; they looked like normal fancy decorations from this angle.  

Claire’s own flashlight had revealed a small bunker with a table and a strange replica of the police station on it. And when she took the final step down, motion-sensor yellow tinted lights flared above, filling the space with a soft, welcoming brightness. Deeming it to be safe, Leon also descended the stairs, but only one pair of footsteps followed.

Only one pair of footsteps. 

Stone and metal grinding shook the walls around them, and he whirled behind to see before the platform of the goddess mechanism boxed them in that Lt. Branagh had taken out all the medallions—

and that he was still in the station, separating himself from them. 

The guttural shout Vera let out before she lunged for the now wall-covered door would haunt him for the rest of his days.

tagging: @ocappreciationtag @shadowsofrose

[maddys-nerd-blog]

Here’s another snippet for you guys to read!! For context ( and spoilers for earlier in the story ) this happens right after Katie and the group escape from the Same As it Never Was universe, but the cost of their escape was SAINW Michelangelo sacrificing his life to the Shredder once the resistance falls to give them the chance to get away. Katie’s not used to taking care of the mutants at this point. This is also where Mutant Mayhem Donnie gets introduced!!

Earth 2003

Somewhere in the back of a vacated art studio on the south side of New York, crackling rippled through the air like a stone skipping across a still pond. Blue streaks cut through the fabric of time like a knife in butter, uncontrolled by the threads of magic that tried to sustain its strength when it expanded into a gaping blue vortex that opened its maw to spit out its travelers.

Rushing into the fresh air, Katie led Mondo through the portal, pistol still in hand, clutching him close as though anything would rip him from her grasp. She staggered into the threshold with a wheeze, eyes darting back and forth to gauge what was going on. Looking down at Mondo she noted he was shaking terribly at her side, holding tight to her arm and not too keen on letting go.

Leo leapt through next, sword sparking along the blade, reflecting the terror in his face as he fell to his knees without a sound. Not far behind came Raph, falling backwards, flailing his arms for purchase to grab onto anything to prevent him from slipping through. The moment he hit the floor he attempted to surge for the portal once more. “MIKEY!”

The portal snapped shut in his face as if to spite him, leaving the group with nothing but a bitter sense of failure and mourning over the loss of a companion. A brother.

Family.

For an hour nobody moved from where they stayed frozen, catching their breath, fighting to remain stable in the fleeting moments of quiet before they buckled under the pressure. But, as all things did, the silence caved to the raging storm that brewed under the surface.

And that storm exploded out of Raph.

Reeling towards her the box turtle seethed with anger, his hands shaking at his sides. “WHY!?” He yelled at the top of his lungs loud enough to be heard from a mile away. “WHY DID WE LEAVE HIM?! HE NEEDED OUR HELP!”

Katie grit her teeth, repressing the urge to break down. “I was doing what he wanted me to do.”

“Which was what?!” Raph shot back. “Abandon him?! Let th’ Shredder kill him?! They had him trapped! If we were still there he’d have a chance!”

“He told me to take you out of that shitshow!” Katie barked, letting Mondo go to properly address the turtle. “It was either stay and die, or run and fight another day! You think he wanted you to leap head first into the jaws of a monster?!”

“It ain’t th’ first time I’ve fought him! We took down our Shredder!”

“Are you forgetting the giant mech suit he was wearing!? All those Karai bots?! He killed April! He killed thousands of resistance fighters with one hand! Is that what you wanted?!”

“I woulda rather died out there fighting th’ Foot and bringing them down then watching my baby brother die. No matter what timeline, dimension, time loop I’m stuck in!” Raph took a daring step forward, his resentment showing no bounds as it seemed from his being like a dangerous aura. “If you woulda stayed and fought instead of running like a COWARD—“

“COWARD?!” Katie finally reached the end of her rope, snapping back at the teen. “How dare you!? It was Michelangelo’s final wish that I got YOU and the rest of us out of there before we ended up skewered! I’m a coward for saving you?! I’m a coward for taking care of you, feeding you, providing you with as much comfort as I could offer while I’m STUCK IN A SCREWED UP VERSION OF BILL AND TED’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE?!” She raised her voice as her emotions caught up to her at last, six months of bottled frustration boiling over. “I’M IN THE SAME BOAT AS YOU! ALL I EVER DID WAS LOOK OUT FOR YOU! YOU THINK I WANTED TO LEAVE HIM BEHIND?!”

“It sure as hell feels like it!“ Raph bit back with a snarl, vitriolic. “You were fast enough to ditch him! You could have saved him! You could have gone back, found another way! You gave the Shredder what he wanted! You kept telling me that family is th’ most important thing to you but when it’s my brother, you don’t care?! I WISH YOU NEVER CAME INTO MY LIFE! I WISH YOU DIED INSTEAD OF MIKEY!”

“RAPH!” Leo finally yelled, horrified by the comment. Mondo gasped, frantically looking back and forth between the two as though they were going to have a screaming match any moment if anyone broke the tension.

Jaw hanging open with absolute shock, Katie’s eyes blew wide open, utterly appalled by the accusations. The words were ripped right out of her, leaving her speechless from the terrible barrage of hateful statements. Taking an uneasy step back away from the furious hothead she brought a hand to her chest to temper the racing pain of her heart.

She was hurt. “You kidding me…?” She couldn’t help but muster.

Raph went quiet. He still seethed, breathing heavy, brown irises glistening ruefully, yet there was a brief flicker behind them that suggested remorse. But he stood his ground regardless, unwilling to bend beneath the guilt that no doubt trampled his conscious.

Nobody dared to speak. No one moved. Katie clutched at her badge as though to ground herself against the shaking of her body. A numb chill took hold of her bones, settling over her like boulders stacked upon the tallest mountains pressing down deep into her core. Some small part of her spoke through the guilt; He’s just angry. He’s taking it out on you. He doesn’t mean it. He’s still young and learning. But there was power in his words. Laying out how badly he wished his brother was still alive, had wanted it to be reversed to save the life of the other. She understood why he’d think such a thing… it didn’t ache any less.

If Michelangelo had lived and she died… he wouldn’t care. None of them would. Why would they? She was a stranger to them still. Someone who didn’t understand their plight the way their counterparts did. Michelangelo would have protected them better, taken care of them, trained them when she couldn’t.

Then the darker thoughts entered her skull with a vengeance— It should have been you.

“Mom…?” Mondo piped from beside her in the smallest voice he had. He sounded timid. “Are you okay…?”

Her lungs ached. Her fingers twitched, craving a smoke. She needed air.

Turning on her heel, Katie snatched her bag up from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder. Startled, Mondo croaked, “Mom, where are you going?!”

“Away.” She bit through grit teeth, tempering the festering emotions that threatened to spill over.

“Wait!” Leo sprang to his feet, trying to give chase. “Where?! You-you aren’t walking out on us, are you?!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she did.” Raph’s scalding words burned on her back. “Like a coward!”

“RAPH SHUT UP!” Leo shouted at the eldest among the group of mutants. “It wasn’t her fault—“

“No.” Katie cut the red eared slider off. Her grip on the badge tightened to the point of cutting into her callouses. “He’s right. I left him behind. I couldn’t save him even when I promised I would look out for you. I’m not your mom. I’m not your family. All I’ve done is fuck everything up.”

As she started for the double doors of the studio, a hand grasped hers, rooting the detective in place to halt. “Kat. Please.” Leo pleaded, a quiver to his voice unlike the cheerful trickster facade he put up all the time. He sounded close to tears. “We-we don’t have anyone else. Don’t…” swallowing what sounded like a whimper, the boy begged. “Don’t leave us behind.”

Katie bit down into her bottom lip to hold back the agony that rocked her soul hearing his plea. The poor thing had seen unspoken horrors to last a lifetime for someone so young. Being split from his own brothers, his family, for so long was starting to take a toll on him like it had with her. She was reminded of the fact of the matter…

She was all they had.

Unless she could magically whip up a teleportation devise to send these kids home, she was the only thing standing between them and danger.

And she couldn’t leave now.

Her head dropped low, hair shading her emerald eyes from sight to avoid looking weak. Without looking back she slipped the bag off her shoulder with ease, handing it to Leo. “… just gimme an hour.” She tucked her hands into her jacket with a sigh. “I need some air. I’ll be back.”

Refusing to meet their gaze she slipped out of the studio and into the frigid cold of autumn rain that cloaked the city in a veil of mist. This wasn’t her New York. This wasn’t her home. It was bleak and depressing and drab. Yet another pale imitation of what would be far from her grasp until this nightmare was over with. If this was the universe’s version of a sick joke, she wasn’t laughing. She’d stopped laughing a long time ago, and quite frankly, she was at the end of her line. Some part of her wished she could wake up from this ordeal, just a pinch on her arm and poof! There would be no bounty hunters or crazed alien murderers with a kink for revenge. No mutant kids trained in ninjutsu. No more unnecessary heartache or risk of death around every corner. All she wanted was to be back in her own world where everything made sense.

But it would never be that easy.

Maybe she was stuck here. Never able to escape this life… never see her sister or niece again…

Katie raised her head upward to greet the stormy sky with moist eyes, unshed tears finally mingling in thin trails with the downpour. “Goddamn it.” She scrubbed her face furiously to get rid of the stubborn tears. All this time on the run and suddenly now she was crying?

Searching for her pack of smokes to distract herself from the anxiety in her system Katie started walking down the street, aimless. The familiar craving of nicotine surged through shaky fingers in hopes it would stave off the worst of her grief—

Violet streaks of lightening shocked the gray skyline, startling her to a jolt. Snapping her gaze towards the sky she watched with a dropped jaw as the all-too distinct sensation of magic tingled her skin from her shoulders to her toes. Her hair whipped around her head as the wind started picking up in speed. Soaring on the coattails of the streak of light was a free falling figure flailing in the air, reaching, dropping hard and fast into the night with no warning. Katie watched on with silent shock as the unknown figure fell into a shop with an all too audible crash landing.

Her heart thudded, skipping a beat. Could it be…?!

“Michelangelo!” With no time to waste she broke into a sprint, racing into the rainfall to find the turtle. She had no clue how he’d found a way to get out of that shitshow, but he was one tough sonovabitch.

Maybe she wouldn’t be too late this time.

***************

Whatever Katie was expecting to find, this certainly wasn’t it.

She’d run three blocks to reach the destination of the lightening stream reaching its end, some busted down barbershop that had seen better days. The mystical energy was potent here. It was a mess inside, the door having been bashed open as though someone had used a battering ram to break in. The front window had been long since crackled, some sections caved in, glass scattering the floor amongst a sea of litter and cleaning supplies. Seating stations of reclined leather were torn with holes, cushions ripped apart, the mirrors baring spiderweb-esc damage across the reflective surface. It was in the crackled image of the mirrors that she spotted a mystery figure cloaked in shadow.

Katie’s heart started to pound harder. “Mike?” She dared, one hand slowly hovering over the holster of her handgun just in case it was Karai.

The figure shuffled in the dark, groaning in pain. Katie held her breath as the movement picked up— whoever this was had woken up. She opened her mouth to call out—

“Dad…?”

And the wind was sucker punched right out of her. Words died on the tip of her tongue. Her stomach tied itself in knots.

A kid. Another kid?!

Katie immediately reached for her flashlight. She clicked it on, shining a light in the direction of the voice… only to be met with shock.

The bright light cut through the barbershop, putting a spotlight on its target, which was another mutant. Another turtle. He was scrawny, a string bean, his shell too big for his frame. He couldn’t have been much taller than Mondo. A purple bandana masked his eyes. The poor boy was frighteningly young— she had to guess fourteen, given the sound of his voice and how small he was. What concerned Katie the most was his injuries— the kid looked as if he’d been used as a punching bag. Black eye, cuts and gashes littering lime green skin, blotchy sores marked around his arms as though he’d been violently manhandled. A staff was broken in half nearby.

His eyes blinked in the presence of a flashlight beaming in his face, his arm raised to shade them. But the more he adjusted to his surroundings, the quicker he started to realize she was standing five feet away.

And his face morphed into one of pure fear.

“Dad…?!” He called out, looking around from where he lay. His breathing escalated faster, panting, struggling to stay calm. “Dad! DAD!” He tried to scramble to his feet but he yelped in agony, hands grabbing his right leg and collapsing. The child moaned with immense anguish from the pain.

Katie started moving towards him, her heart twisting at the sight unfolding before her eyes. “It’s okay! It’s okay, I’m not—“

“Stay back!” The boy cried with panic, crawling away from the woman in blind terror. His shell hit the wall and he soon realized he was cornered, trapped with nowhere to run. Katie became aware of the long trail of red that smeared the tiles under his leg and couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of a gnarly set of slashes taking up the majority of his thigh, cutting deep enough to slice the sensitive muscle tissue and render him unable to stand or put weight on it. It was as if someone had taken a pitchfork and raked it through his skin… who, or what, did this to him?

Frantic eyes danced around the shop, searching for someone. He started shouting again. “YOU GUYS?! LEO! RAPH! APRIL! MIKEY! Where are you?!”

Katie’s breath hitched in her throat. Another version of a brother lost in a world he didn’t know…

Dear God, she couldn’t help but think. What am I gonna do?

After a few minutes of helpless yelling it dawned on him that he was alone. The small turtle shrank beneath her stare, petrified. He raised his hands as though to shield his face from a round of pummeling. Wide eyes began to brim with tears that started to stain his mask, pitched whimpers escaping through chattering teeth. Did he think she was going to…?

Her heart melted at the pitiful sight. Lowering herself to kneel her voice dropped into a gentle whisper, trying to keep him calm. “Oh honey,” she murmured sympathetically, setting the flashlight on the floor. “What happened to you?”

The turtle blinked, a long stream of tears trickling down his round face. He squinted, using one hand to scrub at his eyes, hiccuping. Could he not see?

Her attention fell to a pair of wide, square shaped glasses fallen to the wayside. Wordless she went to retrieve them— giving them a once over to make sure the frames weren’t broken— before she returned them to the boy. “These are yours?”

Purple turtle kid was frozen; he looked at his glasses, lifting his gaze to her with a level of distrust she couldn’t help but wince at. What happened to this poor baby?

“It’s okay.” She crouched at arm’s reach, keeping a safe distance between them to show she meant no harm whilst still offering the spectacles. “Just breathe. You’re gonna be alright.”

Wide, watery eyes blinked upwards to squint at her, lips quivering. He cowered in a tiny ball, hugging his knees close to a plastron covered in thick scratches. Hesitation locked his limbs down to prevent him from moving, too terrified of her to do much of anything. Katie frowned, heart breaking, struggling to think of an idea to coax this boy to talk. Emerald eyes flicked over to the broken staff, only now taking notice of the stickers that were plastered all over it. With careful precision she realized what they were.

Anime was an awkward topic— Lilium was a fan of the stuff, she’d seen brief snippets of one show with magical girls and yammering cats fighting evil on the family television on nights when she came home late. She had no idea what it was, but she understood the basics of its Japanese origin. But there was a connection there. She could work with that.

“Those stickers,” she gestured to the staff with his glasses, offering a kind grin. “What shows are they from? Don’t think I’ve seen them before.”

It was fleeting, but she spotted the smallest trace of calm start to appear. If one hadn’t caught the signs they’d gone unnoticed— the ridges of his eyes softened significantly, muscles in his shoulders relaxed, the grip on his legs loosened. Purple masked eyes raised to meet hers once more. Sniffling, he replied. “I-it’s from an anime… it’s called Jujutsu Kaisen.”

There we go, she sighed with relief. Lowering herself to sit cross legged to get to his level, she still offered his glasses. “Oh yeah? Sounds cool! What’s it about?”

He began to open up; the boy began to smile, if only by a margin, at ease with the familiar topic. “It’s about… demon hunters. They fight all kinds of monsters.”

Katie chuckled, amused. “That doesn’t sound bad! My niece watches stuff like that too— the anime thing. Only she watches this older one, I dunno what it’s called. Talking cats? Blonde witches with magic wands?”

“Sailor Moon?!” Instantly all tension was sucked right out of him, eyes brightening with excitement. “I love that one!” He went to sit up, but yelped with pain as his hands went to grab at his bleeding leg, hissing through clenched teeth.

“Hey hey hey, easy hon,” Katie scooted over, handing him his glasses. “That looks nasty. Any idea what did this?”

Purple fixed his glasses back on, blinking a few times to adjust his eyesight, squinting to better gaze up at her. His face dropped with awe. “You’re… not scared of me?”

“No. Of course not.” She opened the lapel of her jacket to reveal her badge. “My name is Katie. I’m a detective. I’m in the same boat as you. We’re both a long way from home.” Gentle in tone, she continued. “Can I get your name?”

The turtle swallowed, timidly shifting his eyes downward to stare at a random tile on the floor. “… Donatello.”

What is with the Renaissance theme in these turtles? She couldn’t help but wonder, instead giving him a warm grin to provide comfort. “That’s a cool name. Wish my parents were that creative.” She motioned to his gruesome wound. “Can I get a look at that? I gotta make sure that’s not gonna get infected. Can’t having you fainting on me.”

Donatello hesitated, frowning deeply, appearing troubled. “Are you… gonna take me to a lab?” He asked, paling. “So I can get milked?!”

… what the fuck?

“Okay NO, no, what?!” Katie couldn’t help but sputter with shock, nearly retching at the thought. “Milked?! What kind of backwards dimension are you from?! Why would I take you to a lab?! You’re a kid! Who hurt you?!”

Donatello shrank where he sat, head sinking into his shell so only his wide eyes poked out. “… this lady named Cynthia… a couple hours ago… she…” Terror struck his features as he shuddered. “She wanted our blood but the only way she could get it was to milk it out in a machine.”

Her eyes widened. What kind of depraved sickos could hurt these babies?! “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna take you to a lab. I’m not gonna hurt you in any way.” She reached out carefully to settle a kind hand upon his shell. This made the turtle poke his head back out, teary eyed but listening. “All I wanna do is help you. I understand completely if you’re scared of me. Or if you don’t trust me. But right now you’re bleeding out and if we don’t put pressure on this you’re gonna get anemic or blood clots.” Her gentle tone was reassuring but firm. “So I have to ask: Do you want my help?”

Donatello sniffed, using a fraying wristband to swipe away at the tears still streaking down his rounded face. Seeing such a young soul being pushed to this extreme, with barbaric wounds that could only be explained as sadistic in nature… it wrenched the knife deeper into her chest. So many questions were racing around her head on what kind of monster had dared to harm this poor child.

Donatello fidgeted with his hands, a shivering breath escaping him. But, reluctantly, he lifted a pair of exhausted eyes upward to meet her face.

And he nodded.

Hope you guys like this one!!! More on the way hopefully soon!! 😁

@queen-with-the-quill @tending-the-hearth @figuringitoutasigoalong @lameboobah

[ladysunamireads]

And Today, We Meet Again

And today, we meet again by Jea123

Luz grabbed the book. “I am sorry, there has been some kind of mistake”. She took a couple of big steps backwards. The place was unfamiliar but at-least it was open. “I will just go now and…” She trailed off and started sprinting. She could feel the Lady chasing her. There were some…interesting stalls in front of her but she kept her pace. It was only when a giant metal box on wheels came chasing towards her that she stopped. She stood still as her eyes widened in horror

Someone pulled her by the collar. Luz regained focus and noticed that it was the same pale lady. All composure left her body. Her legs trembled and she kneeled down. Putting her hands forward, she all but started crying. “I am sorry! If you wanna eat me then just do it quickly!” she begged.

“Eat you? Why would I want to eat a possible customer? Never had one with such pointy ears, but eh, sellers can't be choosers.”

“What?”

OR

Luz is a witch whose greatest desire is to be a hero for people of another world. What better way to fulfill said desire then by skipping camp and exploring the human world along with a bunch of criminals?

Nothing could go horribly wrong, right?

Words: 1615, Chapters: 1/20, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of And like a broken circle, we meet again

Fandoms: The Owl House (Cartoon)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, Other

Characters: Eda Clawthorne, King, Camila Noceda, Amity Blight, Willow Park, Luz Noceda, Gus Porter

Relationships: Eda Clawthorne & Luz Noceda, King & Luz Noceda, Eda Clawthorne & King, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Luz Noceda & Willow Park & Gus Porter

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, almost anything you can say about the first season and it's in here baby, this is like a cocktail of confusion and heart, But mostly confusion

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44507560

[fyrenyx]

"Our entire life is made up of choices,

What we decide,

The action we take,

The attitude we display,

All represent the steps of life.

Sometimes we take two steps forward

And one-step back.

Some of us take baby steps,

Some of us take giant steps.

But the secret is not to let that

One step back turn into a failure.

Learn from backward steps,

And keep on stepping forward,

In this dance Called Life!"

Written by Catherine Pulsifer

Painting by Emily Kell

[johanine]

Jo’s Diary- Murloc Encounter

Hello shiny, glittery beautiful diary! You are crisp and clean and ready to get DESTROYED by stickers and gel pens! Eeee! I wanted to start documenting big moments in my life, so today I decided I would recall the memory of Murglgles before it gets too fuzzy! --- Today was the first day of training with The Cast Company! I’m still not sure how I got here, one minute I was cleaning up Hidden Delights booth at the job faire, the next minute I was handed a waiver from a murloc named Theadore. I’ll tell ya, that Sal guy was a real salesman! AND sailsman heehee! Anywhoo, the training was ROUGH! Almost as rough as the time I fell off my pink bicycle and into a pond before I knew how to swim. But that time I wasn’t entirely in fear for my life. Today was the first time I was genuinely concerned about my life. Theadore was a very nice young murloc, but his family is NOT! When I arrived in Dalaran for the event, I was greeted by an assortment of kneecaps and bloodthirsty, ravenous murlocs! Some had daggers and knives and improvised weapons! Others had fists! MASSIVE BALLS OF RAGE AND ANGER! Some were nice though. The other members of the Company were able to dismiss the murderlocs with a swift kick or scolding, but they did not respond well to my ferocity. I tried really hard to deal with the problem myself, it’s embarrassing enough to have to ask for a step stool everywhere, I didn’t want my new friends to think I’m a baby. So I grinned and bared it and cooked up a super duper humdinger of a revenge plan. After the event, I sprang into action. You see, I followed the murlocs back to their murloc fortress. I moved real quiet through the brush, imitating the gait and shadowy step of Ranek (he’s one of the cool people that lead the Company! He’s also an investigator and kind of sneaky sometimes). I must’ve done a dazzling job, the murlocs had NO IDEA that I was hot on their fishy trails! Except I accidentally followed a nice murloc home to his residence and got attacked by a giant creature. It resembled a pug, it smelled like a pug, it woofed like a pug, but I know what a pug looks like. That was a BEAR! Luckily at that point, I was close to the murloc fortress, I could determine it by the cries of MURGLGLGLGL in the distance. I followed the sound and peeked into their habitat. What I saw still haunts me. There were some murlocs having a tea party, some murlocs sharpening their KNIVES, there were corpses of stuffies and dolls everywhere! I almost high tailed it out of there but I was so close to my goal! I located their den sleeping area and snuck over to it. The stupid creatures were too busy being horrible to notice! I carefully extracted several glitter bombs from my bag, and that’s when I noticed one nest was occupied. In the corner off by itself was a tiny nest with one egg in it. I could hear Evil Jo whispering to me, “Kick it. It’s abandoned anyways.” I snickered at Evil Jo and thought she had a fantastic idea! I giggled and marched toward my victim. Good Jo kicked in and reminded me that I should be nice and considerate to the murderlocs. But the Light giveth and the Light taketh away, right? I decided to do some taking away. They had already nearly taken away my pigtails! I paced around the nest, looking for the absolute bestest angle to launch my assault. I firmly planted both my feet on the ground and visualized me kicking the egg and it erupting into a gazillion shards of nothingness, then teleporting as fast as I could back to Stormwind. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I opened my eyes and swung my leg back as far as I could, then gained as much yeeting force as possible and swung forwards towards the egg. My left leg went clear over the egg and my right leg swung out from under me. I fell backwards and konked my head on the hard packed dirt and went lights out. I don’t know how long I laid on the ground, but when I came to I was still alive. Four fingers on each hand, two hands, two feet, ten toes. I was in good shape! The murlocs were still murderlocing and I got up to make a hasty exit from my botched evil plan. A mental note was made to maybe disregard Evil Jo in the future. That’s when I realized The Egg was gone. The nest was empty with no sign of the egg. I wasn’t too terribly invested in The Egg and still had priority one of making a quick exit. I picked up my bag and got the fel out of there! Er, tried to. I picked up my bag and noticed it felt a little heavier than before, and MOVING! A grey murloc poked his teeny tiny baby head out of the opening. It had bits of shell on it’s head and cookie crumbs on it’s mouth. I let out a shrill AAAHHH!! and the murloc let out an alarmed MURGLGLGL! raising both of their tiny murloc handsies in fright! This alerted the murder of murlocs (I’ve decided a group of murlocs is called a murder) and they began running towards me! I hastily ported as quick as I could, murloc bag in tow. I escaped and landed back in my apartment with my new friend. They seemed content to hide out in my bag, provided the cookie stash was regularly replenished. Murglgles has proven to be low maintenance and easygoing, probably because they did not have time to be corrupted by the Murderlocs. They were also able to intercede on my behalf to let the Murderlocs know that I am not a threat, toy, doll, or cursed statue. I am very thankful for their diligence in controlling their murdermates. I have since made friends with most of the murlocs and enjoy working with them!  ~Jo There is a bite mark at the bottom of the paper denoting Murglgles’ signature. _____ Thanks to Dixis Fizzpump for the Murglgles Origin Story idea!

[allegxry]

Of course they would regewy bringing in up, but their resolve had been made. There was no good in keeping things between them, even if it ended with Elijah disliking them. The professor sat back, not wanting to be physically pushed so their body moved before fingers could touch them, putting a hit of distance between them. Legs were tugged under them as they knelt, a comfortable, familiar position to them. There was a painful sinking of their heart they ignored, knowing that this might be the end of it all. "I answered like I would answer anyone, untruthful. If I did say, I would be announced clinically insane."

Fingers reached for their discarded shirt to slip back into, buttons left unbuttoned as they wanted to keep their eyes focused on the man. "I didn't realize it would stay on your mind. No one ever pays attention to it." It's not like they had always revealed themselves in sich detail to past lovers, but with Elijah it felt like they simply couldn't hide it, even if he would end up angry or hurt, both would be understandable. The twilight reference was ironic, whether Elijah realized or not. With a long breath taken in, they faltered. "I was born August 1, 845." Elijah would either call them crazy and cast them out or- what else would he do? Laugh?

He watched their shirt cover their chest, eyes casted down to how they were sitting before looking at them again, he sat back though. Thumbs rubbing over the finger under it, a means for some control over something or just to not break his own skin by digging a nail into the webbing of his finger and thumb. The usual go to since clenching his jaw any harder would crack a tooth. He stayed quiet, all the way through hearing their actual birthdate - much, much older than Elijah even tried to guess. It did make his stomach turn, biting over his bottom lip with a shake of his head. “So… you’re usually able to lie to those you say feel like home then. But that sort of leads into the question of am I just anyone or is home just the line you’ve perfected? I’m sure you haven’t spent thousands of fucking years alone, right? Realized mortals can’t exactly handle it all up here…” his hands slightly animated when he spoke now, motioning to his temple this time and then pushing hands back through his hair, “Makes it a bit easier for whatever the fuck you actually are and whatever abilities you have…” because no immortal being came without power.

He was hurt about being lied to but there was no emotional process, everything came out hostile and in anger. His go to to survive. “Why the fuck even bother?” His voice raising, barely giving any time for Michizane to say a word, “I’ll be dead in about 50 years, so what was your big fucking plan here, Michi? Just thought in wouldn’t notice you not aging? Or maybe it was never me who you had to worry about leaving…” getting to his feet, eyes dark as he looked at them, a bit of disgust as the pieces started to fall together. It wasn’t just the lie but that certainly is what broke the damn. Being with someone immortal was a sick and selfish joke on their part, it’s not as if Elijah would be with them when he was in his fifty’s or sixty’s and Michi still looked like they do now - and then the rest of his years he would get to be hurt and angry, it’s why Being alone always suited him better. “All of you immortal being are just selfish fucks underneath it all..” Elijah knows he’s never mentioned them being anything more but a label didn’t make or break someone being in his life - it’s just how Elijah kept his distance, and for good reason.

[bunjywunjy]

O knowledgeable Bunjamus, a question has occurred to me and I have not known peace since. Okay, so, you know how kangaroos and such have pouches that open towards their heads so as to not drop their babies, and opossums and such have pouches that open towards their tails so as to not get caught on things as they quadruped on by? Well and good, but what was the evolutionary step between these? How did we go from one to the other? Or did they, against all odds, evolve separately from a proto-marsupial? Please help, marsupial pouches are ruining my life.

pouches were a feature inherited from the very first marsupials, who spread them across the globe, and different species adapted them to full different needs after that!

and turns out there were a LOT of needs, because marsupial pouches come in more flavors than jus two- there are forwards-pouches, backwards-pouches, slit-pouches, and the monito del monte doesn't even have a pouch at all, just a furless indentation!

think of it like bird beaks- all marsupials share the same basic trait, but it's undergone so many different adaptations in different species that it can look VERY different from one end of the family tree to the other, and the relationships between different species with similar pouches may be as close as you expect!

marsupials are all in agreement, though- any kind of pouch is better than having to tote a giant baby around for nine whole months of your life.

and, I mean. are they wrong?

[supremedinosaur]

ooo, you’re in trouble

WandaNat x Mutant!Reader

Warning: none, just fluff

Word count: 1000

Summary: Bruce and Tony test the limits of the reader’s powers. Set in a world where no one died.

---

“You have the ability to absorb any solid matter and cover your entire body with it,” Bruce said in awe. Bruce circled your stature, taking in your form covered gold-titanium, the same metal as Tony’s suits.

“Matter absorption and weapon creation,” you corrected as you created a sledgehammer out of the palm of your hand.

“Do you experience any negative repercussions because of them?” He asked as he was writing something down on his clipboard.

“My appetite increases to obscene levels after use and I have to consume the metals to create weapons,” you informed as you summoned the metallic coating to leave your body.

“So, you’re like Kevin 11 meets a Titan,” Tony said with his thinking posture.

“Peter?” You asked surprised he knew those references.

“Peter,” he confirmed. “Hey, I have an idea, want to test your powers against the suit and green giant?”

“Yes, I’m in,” you agreed almost too quickly.

“I don’t know about this, guys,” Bruce said apprehensively scratching his head.

“Don’t tell me Mr. Jolly Green Giant is afraid of losing,” you teased smirking.

“Okay, let’s go, but we have to be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he said leading the way out with the ground slightly shaking from his giant steps.

“Yes, mom,” you and Tony groaned at the same time following him out.

“Oh, fuuucck,” you groaned as Hulk Bruce threw you at the wall and the force of your metallic body made a ‘you’ shaped indent in the wall. Your body wasn’t harmed in the slightest, but the wind was still kicked out of your lungs after the action. You dramatically fell forward, face planting into the ground and pounded your fist.

“What is going on in here?” You heard Steve say.

“My life flashing before my eyes on multiple occasions,” you replied flopping over on your back.

“Oh, come on he didn’t even throw you that hard, right Bruce?” Tony said nudging Bruce’s side.

“That seemed like it was too hard Tony. Y/N, are you okay?” Bruce asked concern clearly written on his face.

Rising to your feet you soon felt the adamantium flood your body. All it took was Hulk’s skin to come into contact with your skin long enough for you to absorb it. You felt immensely denser than the material you previously absorbed. You jumped to your toes and felt the ground shake at the action as your body became enveloped in green.

“Oh no,” Bruce said realizing what was going to happen next.

“What’s the matter, Brucie? Cat got your tongue?” You asked with an evil smile breaking across your face. You suddenly charged toward the men as Tony flew away and Bruce froze in fear. You planted one foot firmly on the ground and kicked your dominant foot up towards his jaw. The ball of your foot kissing his jaw and sending him backwards faster than you could blink, into Tony’s fleeing body, and finally into the titanium wall of the training facility. “I think we can call it even now boys,” you grinned cracking your knuckles.

In the distance, you could just barely hear Bruce groan and fall face forward just moments ago, revealing a just as lifeless and audible Iron Man falling on top of him.

Suddenly, you heard the door open revealing two pensive women you both know and love.

“Y/NN,” Natasha warned with her arms crossed.

In that moment, you felt your soul exit your body. In a feeble attempt to flee you pushed Steve towards them as a decoy and ran away. This was when Wanda used her powers to grab you and float you towards them.

“Ooo, you’re in trouble,” Clint said with a whistle, poking his head out from a random vent he was hiding in. You shot him and unappreciative glare and turned your attention back to the girls.

“Mes bébés, je suis désolé (my babies, I’m sorry),” you pleaded hopelessly as you weren’t permitted to move your body.

“No, Y/N. We told you not to hurt our teammates,” Wanda said firmly as she set you back down in front of them.

“But they did it to me first,” you said stomping your foot like a child, draining your body of the vibranium coating.

“Look at you and look at them,” Natasha said gesturing to you and to them. You, of course, did not even have a scratch on you, but Bruce was clearly passed out cold and Tony’s suit did not seem to be in good standing condition.

“They’re… alive,” you trailed off with a cringe.

“Come on, you’re going to time out,” Wanda said trying to hold in her laugh as Nat dragged you along by your ear. You helplessly trudged along wincing in pain.

Once you got to your shared room, Wanda open the door and Natasha pushed you onto the couch. When you landed in the center of the couch you crossed your arms and pouted. Natasha uncrossed your arm and hopped on, cuddling into you with your arm around her. Suddenly, you grew confused as Wanda did the same thing on your other side.

“Wait, I’m not in trouble?” You asked carefully.

“No, what are you, five?” Natasha chuckled turning the tv.

“We saw the whole thing, anyway, it was payback,” Wanda said intertwining your fingers and giving you a peck on the lips.

“Then, why did you guys make a whole show of it?” You asked with your brows furrowed. You crossed your legs and rest your feet on the ottoman, sinking deeper into the couch.

“It was funny,” Natasha smirked giving you a short and sweet kiss, patting your cheek.

“And… we wanted you to watch scary movies with us,” Wanda said just as Natasha turned on ‘Halloween.’

“Aww, gorgeous girls needed me to protect them,” you cooed, pulling them impossibly closer into you.

“No,” Natasha grumbled but used your hand to cover you’re her eyes when a jump scare was about to happen. Wanda hid her face in your neck and felt a loving warmth spread within you, at the action. In that moment, felt so rightfully loved and needed. When the jump scares finally happened, you laughed at how predictable it was and teased them both. They both pouted but you quickly got rid of them with some kisses.

[countrymusiclover]

17 - You're From The Park!

Part 18

Hybrid Trainer

@bigbendyhorns @abaker74 @foundationsretail

"Y/n...easy girl. Easy, I've got ya." He reassured me resting a hand to my scaled forehead. "Mommy, daddy!" Jewels voice is the one I stayed locked on in this moment of relief.

Jewel ran forward as fast as her short legs could carry her flinging her arms around her father's neck. He dropped on his knees wrapping her in a warm hug kissing her forehead. Maisie runs towards me where I quickly turned back to my human form tackling her in a hug crying happily. "You came to get me!" She gasped burying her face into my chest. Breaking the hug I cup her face in my hands still crying heavily. "Of course we did Maisie. You might not have my blood but you - you will always be my child." Instantly I felt strong arms of my husband and little ones of my other daughter wrapped around Maisie and I. Resting my head on top of my head on Jewel I kissed her forehead until the three strangers stepped up. Breaking our family hug I raised a brow as one man wearing dark glasses with dark grey hair. "I'm sorry did you just transform from being a - a dinosaur?"

Tucking some loose hair behind my ear I straightened my back glancing to the other man beside him. He has light white hair and dark blue eyes. Owen shifted beside me completely suprised at the man before him. "You're - You're Alan Grant. You're really him.." Alan stepped up extending his hand out to my husband and they shake hands. "Yes I am...you've got some tough girls there. But uh - You're a raptor?" Nodding my head yes Claire hugged the woman with light blonde hair. Walking over to them the woman suddenly takes my hands in hers awe struck by me I suppose. "This is crazy. I'm honestly suprised Alan isn't freaking out about this. I mean how did something like this happen?" Slumping my shoulders I smiling looking in Claire's direction as I explained the whole thing.

"Basically the short version is yes I am half human and half velociraptor. The lab - um Dr. Wu created me on the island of Jurassic World. I can transform of my own free will. Um - actually if you have any questions that would make this easier." Rubbing the back of my neck I'm not exactly sure how to explain all this. I never expected that I would have to explain my life to anyone. "I have a question. Are you going to kill us?" The guy with dark glasses raised his right hand causing the woman to scold him. "Ian!" He raised his hands in the air as a show of surrender right before I heard Jewel scream transforming into her raptor form clinging to my body. "Jesus. There's a little hybrid too!" Ian jumped backwards a little until we all heard a growl coming through the trees.

Owen and Alan moved in front of our group of people as a form of protection. Maisie stands on the other side of me almost gripping my other arm. Claire is still beside Ellie and Ian. With the pilot lady on the other side of my husband. Hanging my mouth opened I felt the ground move when the giant dinosaur took a few steps forward through the trees. For a moment I thought it was rexy but it seems bigger than she is. My eyes locked onto the giant dinosaur with Owen and Alan both whispering under their breath. "Don't move." Ellie asked keeping her voice low like the boys. "What is that?" Ian and I shared a glance when Alan replied to her question. "The biggest carnovor the world has ever seen...why do they always have to go bigger." The dinosaur roared coming towards us. Owen grabbed my hand dragging all of us behind the flipped over truck. "Owen..." I whispered feeling the baby kicking where his hand had fallen on my stomach. "Ssssh baby...it's gonna be okay." The dinosaur and I locked eyes before it roared through the trees focusing on us.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[bellsanthia579]

Orc x Reader Pt-3 (Kirga)

      Kirgas’ house sat on a little hill just inside the forest. Its front yard was covered in a green vine that stretched up the path onto the house. It was quaint, and that's what you liked about it. Kirga walked up the flower lined steps and opened the door with a creak. He had to duck a fair amount just to make it in the door. 

     The house was just as cute on the inside. Small vases held flowers and candles were lit in the kitchen. It reminded you of when your dad wasn’t sick. He always went out of his way to make the house a home. Candles, flowers, curtains, and table linens, whatever he could find, he would use. “Can I give you a tour?” You were torn from your thoughts by a familiar voice.

     He started with the lower floor of the house. On it was the kitchen, the living room, and a small room off to the side. Kirga gave you a huge smile and grabbed you by the hand. “This way there is something I would like to show you.” He took you through the kitchen into the little room. In it was a pile of blankets on the floor, next to this a bookshelf filled to the brim with all of your favorite books. On the opposite wall, a table filled with art supplies for all your creative needs. “Do you like it?” You looked in awe at the room in front of you.

“I love it!” He took your hand once more, bringing his other one up to brush the side of your cheek. 

“I heard from your father that you would like a room like this, just for yourself.”

“It must have cost a fortune.”

“Ay lovely, But I would spend 2,000,000 fortunes if it means you’re happy. Whatever you want, I will go to the ends of the earth to get it for you.”  

     He took you back out into the kitchen, then upstairs. He held a hand on the small of your back as you climbed the stairs. Once upstairs you walked Down a small hallway with a tall ceiling. Kirga made the hallway seem like that of a dollhouse. His shoulders were just an inch away from either wall.  He walked past a room on the left of the hall, a bit confused, you followed him anyway. 

     You attempted to pay the room no mind, but like a vice it called out from behind you. You took a step back to sneak a peek, you cracked the door open. Of what you could see; Inside the room was a large bed, a dresser, and a small chest in the corner. You felt a hand on your shoulder, you gazed up at the giant man who towered over you. He gave you a smirk. "Don't worry , we'll spend plenty of time there later." Your cheeks felt as though they were on fire. He had never been so forward with you. "Come on, there are two rooms left." He took you by the shoulder in his grasp, nearly suffocated by the show of affection.

     The last rooms he showed you were the bathroom and a guest room. " If you'd like, in the future, we could make this a nursery." Your breath hitched at his words. You began to imagine what it would be like to start a family with him. What would it be like to cuddle up with Kirga and a newborn? What would be like to have his hands cover my swollen stomach? Having him so intent on protecting me and my unborn baby. Would I really want that?

     You began to descend back down the stairs, Kirga right behind you, but you were so caught up in your thoughts that you weren't paying attention. You skipped a step and began to fall forward. With a sharp tug on your dress by Kirga you fell backwards into his chest. He worked his arms around your chest and kissed the side of your neck. "Careful princess. You wouldn't want to hurt yourself, now, would ya? Especially not before I show you what I made for you."

     He showed you downstairs. You walked out a small door just beside your nest room. A magnificent smell filled your nose when you opened the door. Butterflies danced with each other through the air, small frogs croaked, and the wind whipped your hair, you had ventured into a small garden. The garden was filled with all your favorite flowers. Not one spot was without some beauty. Kirga led you to the center of it, there was a bench. " Wait here."

     A few moments later he returned with a cup in hand. In the cup was your favorite tea. "Thank you Kirga." You sat in silence next to him, just admiring his handiwork. You finished your tea, set the cup on the table next to you, and rested your head on Kirga's shoulder. The sun had begun to kiss the horizon. Slowly you drifted off to sleep.

     When you awoke you were upstairs in bed. Kirga sat at the vanity, redoing his braids. He turned around sharply at his realization of you being awake. "Good morning, beautiful." You sat up, surrounded by the softest blankets you had ever felt in your life. They were amazing! You softly played with the furs, while Kirga watched you. " Do you like them? I made them from a bear. I killed it with my bare hands."

"I'm impressed!"

"Good. I'm glad." He walked over to you, leaning down to give you a kiss on the head. As he leaned down you grabbed him by the tusks and planted a kiss right on his lips. He moaned slightly against your touch. 

“Do you like that Kirga?” He pulled away and gave you a passionate smile. You brought your gaze down, met with a straining bulge in his pants. You let go of your hand and traced it down the side of his body, soft and sensual. You let your hand rest on his thick thigh. He took your chin in his fingers and brought you into another kiss. As Kirga looked down upon your face he saw the definition of beauty, a goddess. 

     You let your other hand slide down to Kirgas lower back. Hesitating slightly you let your other hand move closer to the bulge in his pants. Just as you began to stroke his cock through his pants, he grabbed your hand. A wave of worry went through your head. Did I offend him?  “Let me.” He put his hand on your chest and gently pushed you down. You gave him a nod, and he continued. He placed his free hand in between your thighs. “Spread your legs for me, love.”

     He pressed on your clit through your dress. You lowered your hand down on his, as you moaned out his name. He pushed your dress out of the way. “Oh you’re so wet for me.” He rubbed his head up and down your wet slit, leaving you breathless underneath him, desperately clinging to him for some grounding. You were overstimulated, yet wanted more. You wanted everything he could give you, plus some.  

     Kirga stopped caressing you just long enough to slip your dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but a shift. You sat up, leaning your body on his, you untied his pants. They slid down with little resistance, his dick became exposed. A dark blush wormed onto your face. You were overcome by your emotions. Everything you felt in this moment felt amplified, and you wanted everyone to know it. 

      You laid back down on the bed below Kirga, setting your legs atop his forearms. He placed kisses all along your body as he lined himself up with you. He reached down and slipped one finger into you. Pumping it in and out. You writhed underneath him. With ease he Slid another one in, scissoring them, in and out. He slowly pulled them out, leaving you feeling empty, and licking your juices from his fingers. 

      He began to rub himself gently along your folds, making sure to get enough slick that he could slip right in without hurting you.``Are you ready?” You nodded vigorously, only wanting to feel him at his most intimate level. “Lift your hips for me, beautiful.” 

     He slowly coaxed himself inside of you, making sure to be slow, in fear of hurting you. He was big, and you were amazed to realize that he had fully sheathed himself inside of you. His hands clenched at your sides. He was holding back, you could tell. His face was scrunchy as if in agony. “M-move, Please.” You asked, voice barely making sound. He began to pull out slowly, too slow. In an effort to make him more comfortable you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling yourself towards him. He moaned at your sudden movement.

     He had begun to thrust faster now, with your hands grasped tightly to the sheets you threw your head back, and you let out a breathy moan. He began to slow back down. “Careful Y/n, I don’t wanna cum so quickly.” Despite his words he picked up the pace again, this time faster than before. He angled himself so that every time he would ease into you, he would hit that bundle of nerves that sent shivers up your spine. You began to feel a coil tighten inside of you, and with each thrust it got tighter and tighter. With one final thrust it snapped, sending your body into a shaking mess. Your body clenched and tightened around Kirgas cock, pushing him to cum as well. The room was filled with loud moans, telling the whole world of your love. 

      Kirga collapsed onto the bed beside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled you into a tight embrace. You could still feel the high you felt just seconds ago as the chemicals flooded your system. You began to feel tired as you lay there, tightly in his arms. You slowly drifted off, knowing that  you were loved.