#anti-virus y/n

[missterious-figure]

Another au... :)

Your whole world is a digital "utopia". Humans can use vr to get there and interact with the digi-people. Each digi-person is a unique, sentient ai.

You are an anti-virus. Your job is to hunt down the cyber pirates, viruses, and glitches that plague your digital world. A very dangerous virus is looming and you are forced to work with two virus pirates. You need them because they know the ins and outs of the digital criminal hot spots where you need to get information. And you promised that you wouldn't delete them if they did. Will you be able to stop the virus before it is released by the mysterious culprit? If you don't your whole world and everyone in it will be corrupted...

Sun is very flamboyant.

[martyrlamb]

✶ when the clock strikes / leon kennedy

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: you’re starting to think a certain agent might be faking his injuries to see you.

tags: sfw, pure fluff, a bit of angst as a treat, love at first sight basically, silly workplace love story, nurse!reader, 1 year post re4r!leon, no use of y/n, extremely mildly passively suggestive, leon takes his shirt off twice (woohoo!), kissing, swearing, leon is awkward as hell, you are too though so it’s okay, description of bruises, cuts and a muscle knot (not detailed), medical talk, slight mention of gore and blood, reader has a backstory, reader has a mother.

note: i blinked and suddenly there were 8k words in my doc idek how that happened. im actually so nervous to post because this is my first one shot ever!! my cherry has been popped… but also apologies if things are kind of all over the place bc im still trying to get the swing of it all. trying to write in the present tense was like being beat over the head repeatedly so im sure theres many grammatical mistakes in that department

word count: 8.5k (got possessed sorry)

Everyone thought you were crazy when you accepted the offer. 

It is crazy—but you aren’t stupid. You knew what you were getting into a long time ago as a nurse; people get hurt, and then you save them. Clockwork.

Years ago, you started studying to be a nurse in some middle of nowhere midwestern school. You remembered the rolling hills and the ungodly heavy blankets of snow that fell during the winter months, the fallen leaves that the snow covered. It was all so peaceful for a while… until the outbreak.

You never saw it coming, no one did, really. At least, you hope no one predicted the atrocities that were about to be witnessed by thousands of innocents without warning.

Gnashing teeth and hands with dried blood that streaked down arms like veins plagued the memory of that point in your life. It was surreal to believe that you got up that morning and made your breakfast like any other day, you slid your shoes on and grabbed your keys, and then your foot hit the front porch and the trajectory of your life changed permanently. 

The virus started as a woman with red-ringed eyes and pallid skin that reflected off of the blinding overhead lights—she looked visibly ill. That’s all that mattered at the time. You were actually the one who situated her and her husband in their room, he smiled at you and thanked you for your time and you scribbled down notes before hanging the clipboard and leaving the room for the doctor. The screeching horror music plays when you get to this part of the memory.

A type of calm before the storm. You hold your breath every time.

A few hours later people started screaming, and someone—something ran out of that room and wrenched its grip on the first person it saw. Blue scrubs dyed a nasty crimson, like crushed raspberries on cloth. The next part is a blur of running, watching your coworkers die, and using your medical expertise to help anyone who needed it. People were hurt. You saved them.

Like you said, clockwork. You try not to think about it too hard.

By the time help came, you had cramped a large handful of survivors—albeit, injured survivors—into a small house that was a mile or two from the hospital. Your quick thinking protected many people that day, and your skills were recognized.

A week prior, you were a simple nursing student who was lucky enough to be placed in a hospital, and by the next Sunday, you were being offered a position as a medic with the Anti-Umbrella Pursuit and Investigation Team. You finished your schooling, you got your specialized training, and now you’re on your way to your first assignment out of the country.

So, granted, maybe you are a little crazy for accepting such a prestigious and dangerous position after your humble beginnings. Your mother never ceases to remind you of this, with what little information you were allowed to tell her.

Iceland? she said, pulling her lips into a line. Are you crazy?

You begin to think that you are now that you stand in front of the base, arms tucked around yourself and teeth chattering as a sergeant points you around like one of his troops. Between the hustle and bustle of agents hurrying around and the amount of civilians sitting beneath the large, brown medical tent, you understand why they needed all the help they could get.

Things in Iceland were bad apparently; Umbrella thought the remote location would protect what little was left of them, and their research, from being exposed. Unfortunately for them, (and fortunately for everyone else) the AUPIT caught wind of what was happening and vowed to put a stop to it. You, freshly out of training, were sent to help with the sudden influx of displaced non-combatants and wounded agents.

Within the hour of the helicopter landing, you settle in and pull your cold weather scrubs on. 

There aren’t many other nurses—only two—and neither of them seem to be very fond of you. The head nurse is older and straight-laced, following procedure, not mingling with you unless she has to. You don’t think you’re ever going to be put on a shift with the other nurse, but they spare you a few ireful glances. It’s  like they could smell the fresh blood, and the scent made them turn their noses.

Nonetheless, you weren’t there to socialize, so you rolled up your sleeves and did your job, trying to ignore the passive aggressive looks being thrown at you from left and right. This kind of mutual ignorance worked for about three days, until you were placed on the night shift… every single night. 

Before you came along, it was determined that the night shift could be manned by one person, as injured civilians were sent to the safehouses by nightfall and nearly all of the agents were either out on work or taking a much needed rest. There was no reason for both nurses to be awake when one could conserve their energy and rest while the other worked. So, most nights you spent alone, sitting by the fire in the back of the tent as you waited for the sun to come up.

One of those nights crept up on you again. You bounce your foot against the ground until your ankle aches, sitting in a lawn chair next to the fire with a wool blanket draped over your shoulders. Nothing chirps in the distance like the environment you’re used to, the only noises that float through the air are the wind rustling bare-armed bushes and your own breathing. There was a rip in the tent whistling, too, but you’d be damned if you let the incessant noise drive you insane. You were scared of the eerie silence for the first few days, but that quickly became replaced by the complete boredom that followed it.

You blow a raspberry as you spin a pen in your ungloved hand, fingers numb and stretched stiff with cold. I’ve ought to ask someone for a book, you thought to yourself, or a new job. You immediately push the second contemplation out of your head like it was something dirty and sat up a little straighter; your annoyance made sense, but this is what you wanted to do with your life. You want to help people in need.

Not that there were many people around.

In the distance, like divine intervention, you hear the crackle of wheels against snow, and a black mini-van rolls to a stop in front of the tent. A scuffle inside ensues for a moment, then the doors open and a man comes hobbling into the shelter with his arm over another man’s shoulder. 

You nearly fall out of your seat with how fast you stand up and stride over to the men, assisting the injured one onto a cot. 

“What happened?” you ask, pushing a cart of equipment to his bedside.

The uninjured one remarks from beside you, “Some snow gave way and he went down this hill with some pretty nasty bushes at the bottom.” His voice is quick and clicky. He looks young.

Clearly, they’re two agents, judging by the leather holsters strapped around their waists and shoulders. You purse your lips and place a lantern on the cart, gently inspecting the injured agent. There’s thorns lodged along the entirety of his left side, looking a bit like a child’s crude attempt at art with toothpicks and styrofoam.

He grunts when you gently lift his arm to check underneath, and you mutter an apology before you turn to the other agent. “I can take this from here.”

The agent nods and spins on his heel, disappearing into the darkness once he stepped out into the open air. 

You turn your attention towards the man in front of you and pull on a pair of gloves, the latex makes a sharp snapping noise when you let go. His intense gaze follows your movements with great intrigue—or suspicion… you couldn’t really tell. You pick up a pair of tweezers and set them on the cart. You also finally got a good look at the wounded agent.

Blue eyes that strike down what little defenses you have and brows that spend their time permanently creased, almost erasing the space between them while he inspects you. His ability to make you feel thoroughly grilled with a simple fixated stare would have made you squirm years prior, but now you merely stare back with your eyebrows lifted. The blonde—possibly light brown haired, the darkness didn’t give much way in the form of colour—man averts his eyes first, as if he is caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive, but that’s not your focus right now.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, flicking on a flashlight to check his pupils. Healthy, good. He squints at you through the beam.

“Like I fell into a thorn bush.”

Looks like someone feels funny. You deadpan at him, unamused with the sarcasm while you try to help. Your expression beckons a better answer and he backpedals.

The man’s head bobs subtly, like a scale in his mind is weighing his thoughts on either side, and then he says, “I’m just fine.”

“Are you dizzy? Nauseous?”

“Fine.”

“Okay,” you reply, blowing out a not-so-inconspicuous huff of annoyed air that swirls above you in the cold. The agent raises his brow at your reaction but doesn’t seem too keen on speaking on it. “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can, but it’s going to be a lot of poking and prodding.”

He lets out another grunt that could have possibly been an Mhm… but you aren’t sure. You hold the tweezers between your fingers and begin to pluck them out, placing them on the metal pan on your cart. Clink, clink, clink. They fall from the tweezers with tiny noises.

To your surprise, he doesn’t writhe or make much noise, only occasional grunts and sighs and Shit’s under his breath when you pull at particularly deep thorns lodged in his arm. 

Even for an agent, his arms are an impressive size, which means a lot more surface area to extract from. Not that you really mind, as you would have helped him either way, but surely you would feel differently if you were in his shoes.

However, the silence is… awkward; sitting there with your face inches from his huge arms—he could definitely feel your breath fan across the surface with how his skin dances with warmth and goosebumps and you do not want the attractive agent to focus on that. So, you break it with a question.

“You weren’t wearing a jacket?” A valid query, all things considered.

He blinks at you like it was obvious. “It came off.”

“Oh,” is all you say until you extract the last thorn from his arm and begin to slide the leather shoulder holster off of him. “I just need to take this off.”

He frowns slightly, and you realize his brows had been furrowed this whole time because that was all his face seemed to know how to do. When his expression changes, you stop.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Taking it off so I can look under your sleeve.”

“Why?”

“You could’ve pulled something and I need to bandage you,” you pause. “Is that okay?”

Maybe you wrongly assumed that he had done this a million times. Don’t get you wrong, you know how resilient agents had to be and how good they were at their jobs, so it isn’t like you thought he got hurt often… But with a short glance into his eyes, you could tell he’s a hardened delegate with years of experience under his belt. Wasn’t he bound to need help occasionally?

The man gives you a slight nod and shrugs off the holster; it falls to the bed with a soft thud from the weight of the knife tucked into the leather. 

His muscles tense under your fingers when you roll the black sleeve over his shoulder. The feathered, pale edge of a bullet scar peeks out from beneath the dark clothing and it makes you wonder how he managed to get it. A mission? Probably. It looks old. You’ve seen scars of all kinds at that point, and each of them held a story that ended in pierced flesh. 

They remind you that they will never not be where they came from—your own scars will never not be where they came from. You shake the thought out like a stubborn rock in your shoe.

“Lucky you, it doesn’t look like you pulled anything in your shoulder,” you comment under your breath.

“If this is luck, I’d like to see what happens when I get unlucky.” For the first time, there’s humor in his tone—so faint you nearly miss it, but it makes you chuckle. When he isn’t huffing out responses, his voice almost sounds kind.

You rotate his shoulder slowly and inspect the length of his side, finding fewer thorns than the amount anchored in his arm. Still, your lips press into a line, pitying the fact that his bare skin will be exposed to the frigid, below-freezing air so you could remove them.

“Well, you should’ve knocked on wood,” you reply, “I’ll need you to take your shirt off so I can get the rest of the thorns out and check your ribs.”

Silently, the man hikes his shirt up and over his ribs for you, snaking his arm out of his sleeve and then laying on his side. 

As he comes down, stretching, he groans. You see his muscles tense under his skin when he inhales, the dips and divots of his torso flex involuntarily when the squall of air nips at his newly exposed skin. The surface holds blossoms of red and deep purple that litter themselves across his ribs like splotches of messy watercolor dripped onto paper. Scarlet scratches bleed pebbles that drip onto the fabric of the cot. 

You suck in through your teeth as you inspect the area. Even without the damage from the thorns, it doesn’t look good.

“Not good?” the agent questions as if he could read your mind. From over his shoulder, he turna his head to look at you.

“Not good. You bruised your ribs, I’d be surprised if one of them wasn’t broken.”

“I didn’t hear a crack.”

“It should be monitored for a day or two, at the very least.”

“I have to get back to work.”

“Look, I understand—“

“I’ll be fine.”

You sigh softly and remove one of your gloves to rub your face in exasperation. Unfortunately, this wasn’t your first rodeo with stubborn patients, so you slide on another glove and begin to pluck at the thorns in his torso. “You won’t be doing much work if you permanently damage them.”

He twists his head away from you again and grunts softly, muttering a short, “Okay.”

How articulate. You guess he doesn’t get paid to talk to people.

“Okay? As in…?”

“As in, fine,” he replies, then pauses for a moment as if to prove a point. “But I’m sure you have better things to do.”

You laugh at this, then stifle it into your elbow so he didn’t think you were laughing at him. He still rolls over a little to look at you, confusion laces his eyes that dart around as they go from your face to the rows of empty cots behind you. Busy? You begin to laugh again.

He can’t be serious, you think as you fan your face. You let your laughter dissipate like it was being dissolved into water. “Sorry… no, you’re right,” you snort, “I was drowning in work before you arrived, agent.”

“I’m sure,” he chirps back, the ghost of a smile haunts his lips.

“I think I can squeeze you in, though. Might have to clear some of my schedule, but… I’ll make it work.”

The pleased look that graces your face is involuntary. You find it endearing how worried he is about becoming too much extra work for you and the other nurses, despite the fact that there isn’t any reason to gather that he would and—believe it or not—it’s your job. 

The agent lets out an amused breath through his nose. “Should I be flattered?”

“Oh, of course.”

You place the last of the thorns onto the metal pan and tend to his wounds with gauze and bandages and nimble fingers that have done this hundreds of times before. Sometime along the way his body relaxed—just a little—and you think he fell asleep until he sits up like a puppet that had his strings yanked and puts his shirt on properly.

The sudden movement makes you blink, and he stares at you for a long pause filled with dead air and an expectant look in his eyes. That damn rip in the tent whistles. 

Finally, his eyes flicker down to your badge, then back to your face. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I started here not too long ago,” you inform him honestly, a little embarrassed to admit your newbie title to a seasoned employee of the organization.

He doesn’t say anything else, so you take the reins.

“Well, I think we’re set,” you say, rolling the latex gloves off of your hands. “Let me know if you need anything, Agent…”

You never asked him his name?

“Leon Kennedy,” the agent, now with the name Leon Kennedy pinned to his face, finishes for you. 

His name twirls around your head and makes you dizzy to think about. I should have known, you think to yourself once he bids you farewell to report to his superiors. 

From what little time you spent at the base prior to meeting Leon, you had heard whispers during dinner drift from mouth to ear of the elusive agent. That he was a man of few words (immense understatement, you consider it more socially awkward, but true); that he had half of the base swooning every time he walked by (you don’t want to comment on this); and that he was immensely attractive (that is also true). You have to admit… you see why he had such an air of intrigue around him. To be so quiet after such successes he’s accomplished—people were on the edge of their seats trying to figure him out.

You also had to admit that you weren’t immune to it either. 

During your meals and breaks you found yourself playing Where’s Waldo? with Leon, attempting to catch glimpses of him in his natural state to confirm or deny these claims. Which was impressively difficult for absolutely no reason other than that he did it for his own benefit… the motive for this was lost, and still is, on you.

The few times you did spot him, he had the same clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows. He never stayed in the same place for very long and frequently you only spotted him—or rather, his broad shoulders and white-knuckled fists as they turned corners and disappeared to do whatever he did all day. Important agent things.

Regarding your coworkers… it hadn’t improved much, either. The head nurse, who you later learned was named Winona, loosened up on you a bit—which was practically nothing when both she and the other nurse had been so cold to begin with. However, your determination to help those around you seemed to impress her… most days.

(Peeks of Leon’s ashy blonde hair stolen from cracks in the tent. His fur-lined coat hangs off of his sizable frame, enveloping his arms in the thick fabric—it makes them look even bigger. Not that you care, per say, but—

“You aren’t getting paid to stalk agents,” Winona jeers, jolting you back to Earth from your subject of stolen attention. You swear she smiles at you wryly. “Should’ve tried for one of their jobs if you wanted to do that.”

She turns on her heel and goes over to a trio of injured civilians with her cart, the knot of hair tied taut at the base of her neck stares you in the face. You’re left hot faced and embarrassed for the entirety of the next check-up with your patient.)

The endless night shifts never seem to cease rolling in and you’re afraid it’s begun to catch up on you. By the end of breakfast, when you could finally drag your corpse-like body to your quarters and into your bed, your head drooped comically into your bowl of oatmeal and some of the newer agents had a blast laughing at you. Whatever, assholes.

(You were deeply embarrassed.)

So, you opted for allowing a short nap in here and there during your shift—ten minutes at most—whenever your eyelids began to feel itchy and weighted and you couldn’t help but close them. You really couldn’t. Being sat by the fire with a hot drink made you so warm and the sounds of blowing wind lulled you to sleep in the darkness under the moon.

Truly, a terrible work performance from you, but no one was around to see and surely you’d be awoken by even a hint of an emergency. 

Tonight, you count sheep with your wool blanket tucked up to your chin and your head lolls against your shoulder like it’s about to fall off its hinges. One, two, three. They mock you as they hop into their pasture and curl up into white, fluffy spheres, falling asleep within the warmth of their home. 

From a distance, your ears almost register the sound of footsteps that approach the tent, crushing the crunchy top layer of snow under their feet as they stop in the entrance. It isn’t enough to completely wake you until they clear their throat and say, “Hello?”

Your eyes snap open and you turn your head so fast you think it might go flying across the room. Really smooth of you, considering Leon is the one to get your attention. By the smug look on his face and slight chuckle that wracks his frame, you know he isn’t fooled with your act awake performance.

He stands there, towering and rigid, unlike the night you first met him, with his palm outstretched flat like he’s trying to show the world something. 

“Oh, hey, what do you need?” you reply quickly, standing from your chair as you let your blanket fall off of you.

Leon glances at his hand and then at you. “I, uh, got a papercut.”

“A paper cut,” you repeat, just to make sure you heard him right.

“Yeah.”

You stare at him for a moment, mouth agape as his words register as something he was actually saying to you.

“Well, get comfortable, then. I’ll patch you up.”

In reality, you’re terribly confused about a special forces agent needing first aid for a paper cut, but how could you complain? He needs help and you’re there to offer it. 

The blonde sits on a cot near the fire—not before picking up your blanket from the ground and placing it back on the chair, though—and you situate yourself on a stool facing him. 

You take Leon’s hand in yours gently and inspect the wound. It’s fairly shallow, but placed in the center of the webbed skin between his index finger and thumb. Tough spot. When your digits graze his rough knuckles he inhales sharply and you glance at him due to the sudden motion.

He doesn’t expect a reaction from you because he pauses for a second then asks, “You think I’ll live?”

“I dunno,” you answer, sucking your teeth. “Could be a close call.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know. My condolences.”

“For myself?”

“Uh-huh.” You turn his hand over so his palm faced the sky. “This’ll sting.”

When you disinfect the injury, Leon’s face twitches into itself but he keeps quiet, opting to focus his gaze on your face while you patch him up. You try not to shift under the intensity.

“What made you want to do this?” he queries, his voice cuts through the silence and startles you a bit. Leon looks pleased with himself and you roll your eyes.

“You’ll laugh.”

“Why would I do that?”

“It’s corny.”

Admittedly, it was—the original story as to why you wanted to be a nurse. You’ve had people laugh at it before and you mostly don’t want to repeat history with someone you find rather charming, but something in Leon’s face softens and he shakes his head briefly. 

“Try me,” he challenges.

“Oh, fine.” Like there was a fight put up when you relent, smoothing a bandaid over his cut. “You know those things you’d fill out as a kid? Where it’s like, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Leon nods.

“Every single time, I would write superhero,” you laugh sourly because you got used to other people laughing when you said this, but he listens as if you’re the only sound he’s ever heard. “I’d draw myself with a little cape and all that. Then at a certain age the teachers start telling you, pick a real job, pick something that exists. And, I dunno, I thought: there are real superheroes. They save people every day because they want to.”

“I mean, I always knew I didn’t have all the right assets to be the one rescuing people from burning buildings and punching the bad guys. I wanted to help people when they couldn’t help themselves, you know? I can't carry the weight of the situation—it’s just not in my nature—but I can carry them. That’s why I started doing this, I guess.”

The look he gives you when you finish speaking is indescribable. He gazes deeply into your face like he’s trying to find a new feature he missed the first time. Something akin to pulling apart your mind with his eyes as if it’s clay made for the shaping and a load of a melancholy that’s too heavy for him; like he’s asking you, how do I carry it? Tell me how to carry something like that. 

Your hand still lingers in his, over the bandaid you placed on him; you slide yours so the curves of your thumbs interlock and you grip the hilt of his palm. A hidden embrace.

Leon’s eyes dart toward your hands and he makes no effort to remove you from his grasp, his fingers relax against your wrist. He feels your heartbeat. You feel his. When he looks up again, all he sees are your eyes. 

You don’t know why you went on that anecdote in the first place, not really. Only that you were finished patching him up and wanted—needed—him to linger for a bit longer.

“What about you?” you ask, voice hushed close to nothing.

“I wanted to help people, too.” He sounds uncharacteristic—sheepish? “That’s it… I can’t follow up with something as articulate as you.”

“It matters just as much even if you can’t express it,” you assure him, your head tilts. 

Leon clears his throat and nods, slipping his hand from yours and looking anywhere that isn’t you. You created a shadow in front of his face, back facing the fire, but you can see the subtle dark tinge of his cheeks when he avoids your eyes. He chooses to look at his feet. There he goes, being endearing again, you think.

The harsh edges of his face are lit up with an orange glow, darkness shoots somewhere in between in a soft gradient, and he looks positively ethereal. If you reached out and cupped his face, you know it would be warm to the touch like laundry right out of the dryer. It makes him look all the more delicate and this feels more natural than the pointed looks and pinched expressions he usually wears.

You look back down at his hands. You’re trying to memorize the way they felt against yours (coarse and hot to the touch) and you get the picture of how hopeless you are—even an idiot could see you have a crush on him. 

That doesn’t stop you from protecting your pride and you keep it to yourself. You stand up to put the disinfectant supplies and box of bandaids away without a word. 

Leon stares at his hand like it’s missing a piece.

You have your head buried too deep into the cabinet to think much about that. Screaming at yourself was an understatement for what you’re doing in your head… a better description would be begging the floor to swallow you entirely with one gulp.

Surely, Leon has someone at home. He’s an attractive, intelligent man with an arguably stable job that pays him oodles more than he would ever need; not to mention how well-built he is, but again, for what seems like the millionth time you push this thought to the back of your mind. You could not focus on that.

“Are you okay?” his voice carries from the cot.

You take a moment’s breather and shut the cabinet door. “I’m good. How are your ribs?”

“They’re good.” Leon pauses, then adds. “Thanks.”

The shake of your head comes faster than your words; muscle memory. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“You do a good job.”

“I’m just a medic.”

“A good one.”

As you utter your gratitude for his comment, you hope he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your face from so far away. You weren’t one to get shy from such simple words, but you find your eyes glued to your boots because of his gentle bonniness. Damn you, you curse at him in your head—it held no weight.

The blonde stands from the cot and walks over to you. He bends slightly to catch your eyes in his. “I have to go now, but... yeah. Thank you.”

“Of course, Agent Kennedy.”

“Don’t start using formalities now,” he half-laughs, half-breathes. His face contorts when he stretches back, and his hand came up to massage his right shoulder—you even go to comment on this movement, being a medic and all, but he beats you to it with a smirk. “Stick with Leon.”

And then, in a few strides, he’s gone as fast as he came. 

Your entire body deflates when you let out a guttural sigh. How come every time you watched his back, you were left reeling?

Unfortunately for you, that blasted man had ingrained himself into your head, sitting pretty in your thoughts as snug as a bug in a rug while you tried to do your job, or attempted to focus on anything other than your feelings for him. On the contrary, he returned to clearing out Umbrella facilities for the time being, which meant he was out of the base for days, or even weeks, considering he was one of, if not, the best agent they had. This saved you from the embarrassment of being caught trying to catch glances of him from inside the tent or during meals. 

This, however, did not stop you from daydreaming when work got slow. 

You wondered how someone like Leon behaved domestically, if he was completely different outside of the AUPIT, or if he was still just the sweet, reserved man who needed your aid often. Did he have any pets? What music did he listen to? You guess you’d have to ask him later, but you imagined that the pieces would fall into place and suit him. They’d be so perfectly Leon that when he told you, you would think to yourself, huh, why didn’t I think of that?

The amount of daydreaming you did was not lost on Winona, and occasionally she snapped her fingers in front of your face and grumbled under her breath, “I’ll kill that boy.” With no real threat to her tone. 

Please, you can’t help it. He has arms with the muscle definition of a god and he told you-you were a good medic; you were a goner before you even realized it.

On the other hand, your family never let up with their pleas for you to return home, despite the fact that it simply wasn’t possible unless you had a very good reason for it. Which you didn’t, and you didn’t want to—people just didn’t get it through their heads that, yes, your job was difficult, and yes, patients got on your nerves sometimes, but no, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. This meant more to you than anything else you could fathom. You knew the fear these people felt first-hand, and you knew they needed a saving grace; just like you had.

(“Just come home,” your mother coos into the phone, her voice static-y and chopped from the poor signal. You could imagine her face right now, all worried and exhausted like you’re a child balancing on a wet playground. “There’s a hospital not too far from here… I’m sure they’d take you.

You promptly spend the next hour explaining to her that it isn’t that simple, even if you wanted to, and you remind her every few minutes that you aren’t going to leave, either. You’re happy, all things considered; which is why you make the executive decision to leave out all of the bad parts of your work so far.)

As for the efforts against Umbrella, you hear whispers of successes during dinners and fewer agents appeared at the medical tent’s door in need of assistance than when you arrived. So, you think things are going rather well for your organization. Less tired eyes and solemn faces; the fight wasn’t over, but everyone could rest a little easier with every night that passed. 

And yet, those damned night shifts. You swear Winona and that other medic were scheming against you for no reason other than pure spite, on the basis of simply because they didn’t feel like doing it. It has to be funny to them by now, seeing you half-asleep at breakfast and looking all mussed at dinner because you woke up ten minutes prior. You let them laugh all they wanted because frankly, you began to enjoy the night shifts. The world went to sleep, and you enjoyed some peace and quiet.

You kick your feet up onto a stool and drape a blanket over your legs, book in hand. The soft sounds of Icelandic pop music crackles out of the radio and floats throughout the tent. You mouth the noises of the songs, unsure of the lyrics, but you’ve heard it so often by now, you could recognize the tune from the first few beats. You scat a few of the instruments, tapping your foot along. You don't notice the figure that stopped in the doorframe. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Leon. You shut your book and turn to look at him, embarrassed. “I always feel like I’m coming at a bad time.”

“Never,” you reply with a haste that humbles you further. Worried about his sudden appearance in the medical tent after being gone on agent duties for nearly two weeks, you ask, “Are you okay?”

The corners of his mouth upturn and you barely see a flash of uneven teeth between the slit it creates, cute. This distracts you from how smug his face is. “I think I have a fever.”

“A fever this time?”

“Yep.”

“Make yourself comfortable, Leon.” 

A paper cut, then a fever. You begin to think of his inability to soothe his minor maladies as an excuse to visit the tent. Your stomach flutters at the thought, but you have to make sure… just in case he’d fallen ill out there in the cold. 

You find the thermometer and placed it in his mouth gingerly. It hangs crooked from the corner and he watches you with a certain keenness that makes you smile. After a few minutes, you check his temperature: 98.7. An amused hum escapes your lips without meaning to.

“Dying?” 

“I don’t think you have a fever,” you answer, using the back of your hand to press against his forehead and cheeks. The first cheek is cold, then the left cheek warms under your skin—Leon’s expression falls bashful. “But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were looking for reasons to come see me.”

It’s his turn to hum in thought. “Maybe.”

“You could just come talk to me.”

“You’re on the clock,” the blonde reminds you, grunting. In a swift movement, his hand presses into the curve of his neck and he rotates his right shoulder, face straining.

You see an opening. “That I am. What was that?”

“What?”

“Your shoulder.”

“I was stretching.”

“Does it hurt?”

Leon grumbles a response under his breath, unimpressed that you might have found something you could actually treat him for. You raise your brows. “I’ll take that as a yes. Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

“Agent Kennedy.”

He pretends not to hear you.

“Leon.”

“Fine,” he gripes like a child being forced to get a shot and maneuvers to lay his stomach flat on the cot, his back faces toward the ceiling. He takes off his brown, fur-lined jacket and discards it onto the next cot over. You get a whiff of musk and cinnamon from the breeze it makes.

The shirt that clings to him left nothing to the imagination—a tight, black compression shirt stretches snugly over his muscles. You spread your fingers like fans to warm them up, then begin to run them over his shoulder and along the meat of his back. 

You tsk, full of knots. This man needs a masseuse. You make a mental note to refer him to a good one you knew. 

With the issue at hand, though, you find an impressive knot in his shoulder, which is likely the cause of his discomfort. 

You huff, your work cut out for you. “There’s a big knot in your shoulder, Leon. How are you living like this?”

“I wake up and roll out of bed.”

“I need to get this out.”

Leon turns his head, his cheek presses to the cot. He gives you a look that says nothing short of, are you serious?  You smile as sweetly as you can at him, an attempt to coax him. To your surprise, he averts his gaze fast and relents. The blonde agent sits up and shrugs his shirt off. It’s tossed next to his jacket.

Under the fire light and the dim glow of lanterns that hang in a line down the center of the tent, strings attached to the ceiling, you see the way chills prickle over the surface of his skin. Goosebumps, like rolled carpets being kicked open, unfurl down his arms rapidly and he lays down on his stomach once again. 

Your face burns in the dark—you’d be surprised if you aren’t glowing like one of those lanterns from the amount of heat it exudes.

You use a dollop of skin cream to keep the area relaxed and pliable as you work out the knot with your fingers. You push it in the right direction until you got it in a better spot, then you knead it firmly. It crackles within his body.

“Fuck…” he groans in relief, nestling his head into the fabric of the cot as he sighs. “They teach you massages in nursing school?”

“That might be just a learned from life thing,” you state in total honesty. You wipe the excess lotion from your hands on a rag. 

Curiously, he peers at you from the corner of his eye. “You have someone back home you do that to?”

A laugh falls from your lips, though your face feels even hotter than before (if that is even possible). “No—not at all.”

Leon lets out a pleasant hum and sit up from the cot. Good, he says without saying it. 

He snatches his shirt and tugs it over his head; you pretend to make yourself busy so you have somewhere other to look than at him. You hear him sigh with great reprieve as he rolls his shoulder back and forth, it must’ve felt like a freshly oiled hinge.

He comes up behind you, his shoulder skims the back of your neck when he peers down at what you were doing on the counter. Which is a whole lot of nothing; moving cotton swabs from one container to the other, counting how many rolls of gauze you had left for the hundredth time. Mindless hand ministrations to distract you from the heart that pounds in your chest.

“Is this what you do all night?” he questions, mildly amused.

“Sometimes.”

“Must be glad I showed up.”

“Something like that,” you tease, glancing up at him with a coy smile.

You watch his withstraint break a little inside of him. He inhales sharply, losing the words you said somewhere between your eyes and your lips—he couldn’t focus with your faces so close to each other and neither could you. Leon reaches for the hand that rested on the other side of you and drags you in between him and the counter, twirling you to face him. Then he pauses and appears lost, like he doesn’t know which way is left and right.

Maybe he doesn’t know what to do, you think. You don’t really know either, so you go on about what you do know.

“You should probably use kinesiology tape on your shoulder,” you comment, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of all of your limbs. His eyes don’t leave your lips. You’d be a liar if you say yours left his.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

The man’s body heat radiates off of him and it’s magnetic, pulling you closer, away from the bitter cold. Your breath hitches. His hand hovers over the curve of your neck, then it decides to rest on the side of your jaw, thumb pressed against your flushed cheek. You remember the texture of his warm palm, coarse and calloused from years of wear.

You try to memorize every fine line and crease that scuffs your face as he beckons you to close the gap with the slight tilt of his head. I’d make a terrible agent, my resilience is slim to none, you theorize when your body moves before your mind does. His mouth hovers over yours, his breath traces your cupid’s bow. You close the distance enough that your lips graze each other until someone clears their throat from a few feet away.

Winona stands like a judgmental statue, thin brows raise expectantly. You, and Leon, jump away from each other. It rocks the counter with a loud clatter that echoes. 

“Agent Kennedy,” she acknowledges him first as a sign of respect. He nods back awkwardly. “You two look like you’re  enjoying yourselves.”

Neither of you talk for a moment and you find  yourself desperate to create any word that could explain what that was. Leon’s eyes dart around the room.

Finally, something solid comes to your tongue. “I’m sorry.”

And then she laughs in both of your faces. Her hand waves like it’s fanning your words away from getting inhaled. You and Leon glance at each other, brows knit in honest confusion.

“Kids,” she exhales. “Stop distracting my medic, Kennedy.”

Then he speaks, but it sounds more like a nervous cough. “Yes, ma’am.”

Winona shoos him with a gesture of her wrinkled hand and he musters a sheepish, apologetic smile for you as he hurries away from the tent. You don’t make much of an effort to move as you prepare your ego for the chew out it’s about to receive.

“And you. Try to keep the fraternization out of the tent.” With that, she continues past you to search through some files, snickering to herself and shaking her head.

You aren’t about to push your luck. You get to keep your job and ego intact, and that’s enough for you. So, you whisper a quiet, “Yes, ma’am.” And go on with your day.

The encounter with Leon left you feverish and all tingly in every limb whenever it crossed your mind over the following days. You saw him out and about around the base, and during meals he offered you frail waves that faded in a breath. 

Truth was, you’re too afraid of rejection to ask him about that night—go figure. Maybe you’re a cliche. Maybe you’re both cliches. Who cares? Well, you do, and you thought the ruffled, pink-tinted expressions on Leon’s face whenever you crossed paths meant that he did, too, but neither of you made a move to approach the other. You questioned if you would rather be told that his only plans for you was a short work fling with no strings attached, or if he felt the connection that you did. A terrible predicament, really, and soon your desire for a straight answer outweighed the fear of hearing something you didn’t like. 

When you went to find him in the meal tent, sitting alone in one of the back corners, he wasn’t there. Okay. You waited, then decided to check the nooks and crannies of the base where you knew he hung around, and nothing. Leon vanished into thin air the moment you gathered enough courage to speak to him. Somehow you thought he read your mind and planned for this to happen, just to be able to tease you without being present. But that was simply ridiculous. He had to go to work, just like you had to do yours.

A week went by, then two; no sign of Leon’s reappearance cropped up and you began to worry you wouldn’t get the chance to speak to him at all. The only reminder that soothed you was the fact that you knew the organization was on the home stretch for completely wiping Umbrella’s power in Iceland. This reassured you for many reasons. Mainly, that you’d be able to sleep in your bed again at a proper time that didn’t leave you exhausted; but you also found comfort in the idea of finally getting a word with the blonde agent that clung to your brain like a disease once everything was over. 

Of course, you had fleeting thoughts that he died and you’d forever be left wondering about what could have been. But, that was just ridiculous—he’s Leon Kennedy, the agent that saved the president’s daughter from certain death. So, you chalked it up to your anxiety being built up as doubt about the succession of the mission began to be put to an end. That yes, you would all return home soon, and no nothing terrible and tragic would happen just as you were about to win.

Eventually, you all received the verdict of the mission. Success. The sun shone through the clouds brighter that day, in ribbons of gold that elevated all of your senses to something dreamlike. Another catastrophe prevented. More people saved—clockwork. To say you were pleased with the conclusion of your first ever out of country operation would be an understatement; you were ecstatic. 

Still, you find yourself fretting over that thing with Leon as you help pack up the equipment in the medical tent.

Winona, who has grown increasingly engrossed in your love life, gives you a knowing look when your lips tug downward and you send a pointed glance toward the entrance of the tent for the tenth time in the last hour. She tsks and shakes her head. It gains your attention. 

“Just talk to him,” she insists, shoving a couple boxes of bandaids into the case. She’s unimpressed with your antics and just wants you to get a move on. 

You sigh and preen your hair like he’ll walk in at any moment. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Hopeless,” she grumbles in response. “Hopeless. If you won’t do something about it, stop looking at the door like a kicked dog and help me.” Winona retreats further into the tent and you succumb enough to follow her.

You must glower the whole time because she won’t stop sending you dirty looks while she tapes the cardboard boxes with a tape gun. Her movements are threatening. You try to fix your expression when the line of spokes reflects off of the bright horizon outside the tent as it slices the tape.

After the innards of the tent are packed into a dozen or so boxes, you’re the person left to pick them up one by one and drop them off with the rest of the cargo that needs to be shipped. Your back is sore from the sorry excuses of beds you have and your arms ache from hours of cramming things. Kicking snow with each shuffled step, you heave out a lengthy sigh and pause to breathe. There’s a reason I’m not an agent.

“Need a hand?” Leon asks from behind you. You’re wondering how he’s always sneaking up on you.

Still, you nod and can’t help but be relieved. “Please.”

Like it’s filled with air, he takes the box from your hands and cocks a barely-there grin at your awed expression. Smug and content, he marches ahead with you in tow. You don’t really know what to say to him, if anything at all. 

You walk alongside him for the first time in the daylight, and you take in his features now that they aren’t muddled in the darkened firelight or blurred by distance. He’s chiseled, sunken cheeks and high cheekbones with that intense look on in his eyes—but there’s something else—boyish, is what you think. Soft jaw. Moles and freckles litter themselves across his face. 

Leon is beautiful and you would like to kiss him right now.

He stops at the drop off point, places the box next to the others and turns to you. Suddenly, he looks nervous and you feel some resolve escape your mind. He’s about to ask you something. He opens his mouth, rosy lips parting and you break—you pull him behind a tall stack of boxes and kiss him.

The collar of his jacket is clutched between your fingers in a moment and your lips are on his; the fur tickles your skin. His lips are chapped and cold but you create warmth within him, you could be a summer’s day in this frigid air. His hands come to your waist, then your hips and his fingertips make indents when he holds you tight like this was always supposed to happen. When you part, you’re both breathless.

He searches for his words again, the question he was going to ask. “Would you—dinner? On me.”

You hum in faux thought and peck him on the lips again, then again, and a third time for good measure. He smiles into the last one.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t start that by saying you stubbed your toe and needed my help.”

Leon chuckles. “I thought about it.”

He pulls you in again, tongue grazing your bottom lip. You lean in further, desperate for connection until you both go slipping like baby deer. The thin layer of snow on the ground left everything icy. He tumbles into some supplies and you land on top of him. You’re both laughing into each other’s mouths. You’re both happy.

You chime together, like clockwork.

[thatsafuckeduptale]

First post is here! Please note y/n and Flowey aren't actually involved in the general "Clover gets stuck in the pizzaplex" thing and are entirely optional depending on how you wanna view it. If Clover survives the pizzaplex they get adopted by y/n (blah blah legal adoption shit), if they die they just kinda. Well they're dead.

Please note I do not condone or support Scott Cawthon and his opinions or politics. Anybody who tries to argue with me or say I support him will be blocked.

Scattered thoughts about the AU in the read more below, they won't be organized very well sorry.

*When clover gets stuck in the Pizzaplex the first boss they have to deal with is Martlet. They kite her around before getting her to ram into a fuse box causing her systems to restart and the anti virus to work again.

*Clover is a big fan of the Wild West area of the pizzaplex and thinks North Star is super cool. So they ask Martlet to help them get there because in this childs brain of COURSE the Sheriff would know what to do and how to help!

*North Star genuinely does his best to help Clover but eventually gets attacked by another animatronic that messes up his system. He tries to kill Clover but with Martlet's help they both end up resetting his systems back to default.

*Guardner watches over the Pizzaplex's greenhouse area (Its my au and I want the pizzaplex to be as unhinged as the Mall of America so fuck you if you hate it I think its neat). Gaurdner isn't infected with the virus and just wants Clover dead because they accidentally broke a flower stem and she is SO TIRED of kids NOT RESPECTING THE RULES. They are banned from the Greenhouse forever (but not really let her calm down and she'll reverse it).

*The Feisty Four are now the bandits for the wild west area! Moray was originally from one of Foxy's attractions but was repurposed. Ed is the boss bandit with the other three basically acting as background characters for hijinks. The kids who visit the Wild West area of the pizzaplex are considered the Sheriff's deputies.

*Axis is a staff bot and he is very stubborn when it comes to his job. Yes he will still fall in love with a trash heap tho. Let my guy live a little damn.

*Y/n primarily works on the Wild West area bots and is constantly getting on North Star's case about his wires getting messed up. North Star constantly deals with scolding from y/n and barbs from Flowey.

*Y/n takes Flowey with them almost everywhere in the pizzaplex. He tends to swear at others so they decided it was safer if they could just carry him around and take him away from people.

*North Star was ECSTATIC to learn his favorite mechanic adopted his favorite Deputy. He constantly begs to be able to babysit Clover.

*North Star has a prior companionship to Sun and Moon, as they were all formerly theater bots. North Star however got the better end of the deal as he still gets to act in front of others.

*Martlet constantly sneaks food to Chica when nobody is looking. They're besties.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Insurgency: Foe Is Friend

Summary: A totalitarian regime reigns over a South American country in which the virus is being distributed to its citizens at the pretense of a “cure.” Leon was sent to retrieve a sample of the virus mutation when he stumbled upon a group of anti-government activists whose main goal is to overthrow their government. Will Leon help the cause or will he fall down with the government as well?

Warning: Mentions of mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Slow burn. Age gap (Leon is 38 and reader is 21+). Reader is female. Contains smut. Unprotected sex. Consensual sex.

Word count: 3,574

A/N: there’s a smut scene in this one hehe

[part one][part two][part three][part four][part five][part six][part seven][part eight][bonus]

“The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future," - Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance

When the battle was over, Leon tried to find you. Other insurgents also began to question your whereabouts. No one had seen you or heard from you ever since the storming happened.

And all they could think about was the same thing that happened to Yarina.

It was cruel. To know that your leaders were bound to die by the hands of the greedy and yet they still kept fighting. The insurgents didn’t give up and neither did Leon. He promise he’d help and he always stuck to his promises.

-

It was daytime when the screen tower turned on to broadcast live footage. All citizens of Pruye, including the Insurgents, began to watch it as they thought it was going to be another message from the president.

However, that was not the case. The insurgents all gasped and murmured around themselves as clips of y/n and other insurgents were forced in a kneeling position on a stage with soldiers behind each one of them, guns pointed at the back of their heads.

Leon was walking through the base when his eyes fell on a tv up on the wall. His jaw fell down and he felt his heart stop for a minute at the sight of her in the same shoes as Yarina.

-

You know you should feel scared right now, you were at death’s doorstep. But somehow, you didn’t feel anything. You were numb- devoid of emotions. The only thing in your brain right now was finding a way to escape.

There were about 10 people lined up and you were the 8th person, on the far right end of the stage. The first person got shot. The sound echoing through the area as the other insurgents gasped and cried. But no one begged for mercy. Some prayed to be reunited with dead family members and others prayed for their families to remain alive and healthy. Their words imprinted on your brain and it only increased your impulsivity.

You needed to do something quick.

Things began to climax as the second person got shot. Their body falling forward with a thud as the third soldier prepared his gun.

You closed your eyes and began to take deep breaths, all while trying to drown out the sounds of the gunshots getting closer to your position.

And soon enough, the person next to you fell dead on the floor. The soldier behind you curled his finger in the trigger but right before he could pull it, you quickly and swiftly turned around with speed and swiped your leg under him, causing him to fall. The soldier fell down and dropped his gun to the floor, the other soldiers quickly raised their guns at you and began to shoot- which they failed to aim.

You got up and quickly ran down the stage and towards the forest. The soldiers didn’t stop shooting behind you and a few bullets hit you. But you still managed to run away. The soldiers stopped shooting, as per order of the president, and she figured you’d just bleed to death in the forest with the help of no one.

“Kill the rest quickly,” she ordered as she walked back inside the tower. Two soldiers killed the last two insurgents, ending the day live broadcast.

-

Leon, as well as the others, saw the way you managed to escape. Some cheered and some grew worried. But Leon? Leon didn’t register the way his feet began to move towards the gate of the base- ready to find you in the forest. He didn’t want to lose someone else and he’d stay up all day trying to find you.

And so he ran. He ran further into the forest, straining his hearing and squinting his eyes just to help him find you faster.

Eventually, he saw a figure run past him in the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he knew it was you, so he followed behind you.

-

You had made it to a cave. Slowing down, you reached the entrance and went inside. You needed to sit down to treat your wounds. Just as you sat down against the wall, you heard a voice from just a few feet away.

“Y/n!” It was Leon’s voice. He quickly ran inside the cave and crouched down next to you. His eyes scanned over your body and he immediately saw some blood pooling on your clothes.

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” he joked quietly. You couldn’t reply as the pain was so unbearable, the adrenaline worn off and it felt as if you’ve been ran over 50 times by an 18-wheeler.

Leon quickly applied pressure on the wound on your arm, “This is going to hurt.”

He pulled out some medical supplies from the pockets of his cargo pants. One thing he learned from his field of work was that having too much medicine didn’t hurt anyone. He applied some antiseptic on your wound after pulling out the small bullet from your injury. You were lucky it didn’t penetrate all the way.

You screamed in pain and he had to hold you down by pressing a hand on your thigh, “Don’t move.”

Tears pricked at your lash line as you nodded. Biting your bottom to try and stifle your pained sobs and screams. It hurt like a bitch- or at least you thought so.

After the antiseptic, he began to wrap your arm with some gauze. Making sure it was too tight as he didn’t want to cut your circulation.

Your breathing softened as the pain subsided. That numb feeling came back as memories began to wash up again in your mind. Memories from the first event- Franco’s death- to this moment. You almost died today but you succeeded in avoiding death this time. You knew your luck was running thin but that didn’t stop you from feeling like doing more.

Leon saw that look on your face- a look he once had when he first became a cop. He knew it all too well and it scared him.

“Everyone was worried about you… when they saw you on that stage,” he began in a murmur as his gaze focused on wrapping your arm.

“People were starting to lose their spirit if they saw their second leader die,” he pulled on the gauze- not out of malice, of course. You winced and looked at him, “But I didn’t. I don’t give up that easily…”

He chuckled at your statement and looked at you, “I don’t doubt that.”

A moment of silence overtook the two of you as he brought his focus back on your injury. He’d never admit it, but he also felt a twinge of hopelessness at the thought of losing you.

“Leon,” you called out softly. He looked at you and hummed slowly in response.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?”

“Everything,” your shoulders shrugged slightly as you looked away in deep thought, “I know you’re only helping us because of whatever personal reason you have, but still, thank you.”

Your voice was soft and quiet. He couldn’t help but feel… soft. His whole demeanor changed and he looked at you with gentle eyes.

“I’m just doing what needs to be done,” his eyes shifted back to your arm as he tied a knot on the gauze.

“Still… thank you,” you whispered. You really were grateful for him. It was bittersweet, if you think about the big picture. You would’ve loved to have met him under different circumstances but the universe doesn’t always play in our favor.

Leon was a sweet guy underneath all that sarcasm and dark humor. Sure, he masks his true emotions but he had his moments where he was just so emotionally raw- where he was human. He wasn’t heartless, at the contrary, he felt for everyone.

It took you this fine moment to realize just what type of person he really is. He’s a guy who’s had a hard life. And now your life got hard too. Trauma bond is a real blessing in disguise. You two understood each other without ever having to say a word.

The look in his eyes when he stared at you said enough. His eyes screamed “I’m here for you” “it’s going to be okay”

And that was enough for you to finally let out your emotions in front of him. Your vision blurred as tears streamed down your cheeks. He wasn’t judging you for crying, he understood why. Hell, he’d cry too if all of this happened to him as well.

And that’s the beauty in its raw form. He slowly brought his hands to your cheek to wipe the tears of your face.

You were feeling so many things and he could understand what they were. Even if he didn’t experience the same thing, he went through similar things. Only this time, he wished he had someone who would’ve taken care of him the way he was taking care of you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried on his shoulder. He gently wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close to him as you cried.

It wasn’t fair living in such situations where the government murders people for wanting a better life. It felt unfair and heinous.

You cried as you remembered all the deaths of people who fought beside you. It was all too painful and you were glad he was there for you. Only god knows how much longer you can grip to sanity.

-

You slowly let go of him and pulled back. He didn’t fight or forced you stay close to him, he knew you needed space and he would be more than glad to give it to you.

“Sorry,” you whispered. He shook his head and wiped the last remaining tears from your face.

“Don’t be sorry. Ever.” His voice was soft and almost a whisper. He was being sincere and kind- a contrast to his appearance.

You nodded and looked into his eyes deeply. His eyes were a piercing foggy blue that could only be described in endless terms and words- not enough.

“When I saw that you had fought and ran away…” Leon started in a whisper, “I knew you’d be okay. Everyone else was worried but I knew you’d find yourself alive…”

“Y/n… you wield great strength and I don’t even think you realize how important it is to me that you’re still alive,” he whispered as he took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze as your fingers interlocked with his.

His words made you feel something inside- loved. Love was something that you didn’t often feel all this time and yet he managed to pull at your heartstrings. Part of you didn’t want to get attached to him because you feared you’d put him in danger.

But he’s Leon. He’s been fighting all his life, what wrong could it do if both of you just dived into your heart’s desires?

You brought your hands to his sides of his face and brought him close for a kiss. His lips were warm- a little chapped but you didn’t mind. It was a soft kiss, one that spoke a thousand words.

He took hold of your waist and brought you closer to him to kiss you back, this time a bit more passionately. His hands roamed your waist up and down as he slowly pulled you off the wall and laid you down on the ground of the cave. The cold stone hitting your back as he climbed on top of you, right in between your legs.

His lips moved down to your neck, his stubble brushing up against the softness of your skin as he began to suck hard.

His hands traveled to your hips and he gripped them down as your hands wrapped around his head, fingers digging into his scalp as you moaned from him finding that sweet spot between your clavicle and crook of your neck.

His hands traveled under your shirt and gently caressed over your bra, as if he was scared of taking things further with you. He pulled back and looked you dead in the eyes, his pupils dilated to the point where the blue of his iris disappeared.

“Do you want this?” He whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed out and nodded.

That was all he needed before he gently pulled his shirt off and then helped you with yours. He gave you a look when you tried to move your arm, “Let me. Just relax and let me take care of you,” he caressed your cheek before leaning down to kiss your lips gently.

He gently and slowly pulled your shirt above your head and tossed it to the side, away with his shirt. He stared down at your bra in awe and almost hungrily. He leaned back down on your neck to give you more hickies as his hands reached your back to unclasp your bra.

With delicacy, he pulled down the straps down your arms and gently took it off of you completely. Your breasts completely exposed to him. As he continued sucking your neck like it was his last dinner, his hands traveled up to your breasts and he began to squish the fat of them. His thumbs grazing ever so slightly on your hardened nipples, eliciting a gasp and whine from your lips.

He smirked against your neck as he moved down to suck your right breast while his hand played with the other. He didn’t bite it- not yet at least. Instead he just swirled his tongue hue around your nipple and gave your left breast a teasing squeeze, just to hear more sounds come out of you.

This man was dedicated to making you feel good. He started kissing down your stomach to just right above the waistband of your pants. He crawled back up to your face and kissed you, inserting his tongue inside your mouth as his hands unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down to your ankles. He took them off and threw them someplace he already forgot.

His hands traveled to your clothed pussy, his index finger already finding that wet spot in your panties. He pressed down, causing you to moan against his lips. Once again, he smirked and pushed the slit of your panties aside as he inserted his middle finger.

He groaned as he felt the tightness of your walls pulsate around his finger. And how could he say no to that feeling? So, Leon being a gentleman, he inserted his ring finger inside and began to thrust his two fingers in and out of you.

You moaned and gripped on his shoulder blades, opening your mouth but only strained moans escaping and echoing throughout the cave. His fingers were long and stretched you out. You felt the strain of his erection against his pants graze your inner thigh and it only made you grow more wet.

His wrist was beginning to cramp but he didn’t care, he knew you were close by the way your walls Swede beginning to close in and out on his fingers.

But Leon’s a fucking bastard.

Right before you could reach your orgasm, that little fucker pulled his fingers out of you. You whined in disappointment and mild disbelief as he denied you of your orgasm. But to your surprise, as you looked over at him, you saw that he was beginning to take off his belt and pull his pants down.

You also were no saint given the fact that you basically eye fucked his hard-on.

But he didn’t care- maybe a little bit. He smirked and pulled his underwear down, letting you ogle and salivate as his cock sprung out. Pre-cum leaking as the veins throbbed ever so slightly. Boy, he was beyond hard.

You swallowed hard and looked at him as he aligned the tip of his head to your entrance. With a slow pace, and I’m talking real slow, he began to penetrate and enter you. It hurt, obviously, but it felt good. Maybe you were a masochist or maybe it was just him and his giant dick. Who knows.

What you did know was that as soon as his pelvis made contact with your clit, you hadn’t realized how deep he actually was inside you. He began to roll his hips into you, the action causing the tip to his your cervix. You ought to be careful because bruising a cervix could be very painful.

But you didn’t care- not when Leon’s moans and grunts escaped his throat. He gripped your hips and propped you up slightly to thrust into you better. His knees were hurting against the stone floor but that was the last thing on his mind. Right now, he just wanted to fuck.

As he thrusted right into you, he watched in awe as he saw your tits bounce. He could get used to this. As his kept his hips at a normal pace, he fondled your breast with his big hands.

The sound of his balls clapping against you made it seem like something straight out of a pornographic film. Only this time, it was real. Not like those fake actors with the fake orgasms- no. This was different, you were different.

He groaned as he felt your walls tighten around him and he tried to maintain his pace knowing you were so close to cumming. He read somewhere that when women were close to their orgasm, that they don’t speed up or slow down. Unlike men, women like to keep the same pace since it helps them reach their orgasm.

And that’s exactly what he did, as he whispered things like “good girl” or “god you’re taking me so well” he heard all your moans and whimpers as you finally came on his dick.

But that didn’t stop Leon. He knew you’d feel overstimulated but he wanted to be selfish and reach his orgasm too. So he went faster and rougher. His mind going blank as the only thing his body wanted was to cum.

Cum. Cum. Cum. Cum.

Like a damn dog, he thrusted into you with brute force. His hands gripped your hips until the skin turned white. His cock penetrating your cunt as he watched you arched your back, rolling your head back and closing your eyes.

How he wished he could take a picture of you in this position. But he knew he couldn’t. Instead, he took mental note of your curves and every single detail of your body- your moles, stretch marks, etc. He wanted to remember everything.

It was like 30 seconds until he finally reached his orgasm. He wasn’t a prick and he didn’t wish to impregnate you, so he pulled out and shot his cum on your stomach and breasts. The sight was much more alluring and he felt his cock twitch.

Both of you were panting after such an intense sex. Probably the best one either of you had ever had. He slowly helped you up and tried to fix your hair as best as he could. He saw the way your eyes were beginning to droop from the exhaustion and he felt some sort of guilt for being a little too rough.

You gently leaned your head against him as he began to clean you up with a piece of cloth he had with his other medical supplies.

Always be prepared. He thought.

He helped you get dressed up first as he knew you probably just wanted to sleep. And he wasn’t against that idea so he let you be while he put on his clothes.

It was getting dark and while you slept, he decided to build a fire inside the cave to provide warmth for the two of you. He saw you sleeping peacefully on the floor without his jacket draped over you.

It may not show but he really did care about you. You managed to bring down his walls and he was a bit frightened. But after almost seeing you die, he’d rather let his emotions and feelings be known to you.

He laid down behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist as he brought you closer to his chest. He bestowed his back on the back of your head and inhaled your scent. It was intoxicating and he almost felt like he was in heaven.

Yeah you smelled like sweat but he liked that smell. He would probably be called weird if he said he liked the way your sweat smelled so he kept that secret to himself.

His eyes began to close slowly as his mind drifted off to dreamland. And soon enough, both of you were sleeping in a cave cuddling each other.

The moon shined bright tonight and the warmth of the fire brought you two a piece of comfort. Almost making you forget about the entire political war going on.

Almost.

-

“She’s alive,” the president’s assistant said.

The president let you go simply because she thought you’d die in the forest. What she wasn’t prepared was for that American to chase after you and help you. She was enraged and was out for the kill.

“Release the test subjects. Let’s see who stays alive in the end after I show them what we’ve been working on,” president Mendez said right before she stormed off her office.

[bitwynn]

so i was talking with my friend abt like-- genshin lore and it got to the subject of forbidden knowledge and stuff

and she used this analogy of it being a computer virus or a corrupted file that cant be processed properly

which then made me think "ahaha yes SAGAU IDEA--"

so what if... the forbidden knowledge was the fact that the world is a game/simulation? and since the world of genshin is a computer program, it wasnt built to handle the realization of the nature of its existence and like-- processed it as eleazar, and "forbidden knowledge" and its other effects on the world

eleazar is the system like-- turning it into the safest thing the program can handle and leaving it to the gods (rukk and desh) to try and fully put a stop to it like anti-virus-- the program is only running the world, not the beings and people in it, so itd make sense for them to stop it since when the world is ending and you can do something about it, youd probably do something about it--

since rukk and desh were gods and therefore much "closer" to the games code/programming (closer in the sense that they were much more directly tied/connected to it-- esp rukkha because of irminsul), they were able to handle the realization in a sense-- like... they knew that they werent "real" in some sense and knew that this knowledge is slowly killing them and their deaths to the knowledge that "they werent real" is inevitable and that-- in a way, the eleazar is one of the safest ways for people to handle the knowledge-- that even the world is protecting them from the ruin of it

i imagine the way the two gods processed the information was like-- thru the "corruptive qualities of forbidden knowledge" and in fragmented parts. its why i said that they only knew that they werent "real" and not that they knew that theyre a video game world-- kind of in the same vein of practically every harbinger going "the sky is fake let me tell you about it" (proceeds to not tell you about it) (dottore i love you but im still mad about it)

but if the "forbidden knowledge" is knowledge about how youre not real because youre a video game and youre not supposed to be self aware of it, how then can the harbingers handle that information without going mad or constantly dying of eleazar? i mean-- in the both the manga and in the game its pretty explicitly said that like, dottore fully stopped colleis eleazar and practically cured her of it.

so... you know how they manage to keep altered information in the form of stories in scaramouches archon quest? i think a similar case happened here-- an allegorical story about people living in a fake reality, be it a dream or a story or something, was made to preserve this information. and since it wasnt the pure unadulterated truth about the nature of this worlds existence anymore, the program could handle it and keep anyone from reading it suffering the negative effects of forbidden knowledge

pierro probably did it tbh-- in the archon quest, it was said that the events of khaenriah and the events leading to the deaths of king deshret and rukkhadevata are similar, if not exactly the same.

so how can we then tie this into SAGAU? are you still with me? did you completely forget that this is about me bullshitting the games lore so much to fit this really specific genre of genshin fandom stuff so you can make content about it? have you forgotten i write SAGAU fics? ...honestly i cant blame you for that last one if you did, i havent been writing SAGAU fic in a WHILE LMAO

ANYWAYS--

the concept of "forbidden knowledge" being used in SAGAU is really interesting which is why im writing abt it in the first place lmao-- and the concept is uber fun so this is just me helping you fit this into your own fics and fanworks

since the "forbidden knowledge" is literally just like "youre a computer program and youre not supposed to know that", y/n would DEFINITELY be able to handle it without the adverse effects. and i know that y/n is basically the equivalent of a mary sue at this point and it physically hurted me when i started writing y/n fics but-- if you think abt it, it makes sense

i am trying so hard rn to like-- not turn this into a discussion about mary sues-- just watch OSPs video on the subject and youre golden lmao

it makes sense for y/n to be able to handle it because number one: y/n is literally us. y/n is not lines of code in a program. y/n is never supposed to end up inside a program or software, and is DEFINITELY SUPER AWARE OF THE FACT THAT GENSHIN IS NOT REAL.

y/n is a human, or at least was a human before they got isekaied or whatever plot thing you decide to do to put y/n in the genshi world. y/n is human, not programming and can definitely handle the thought of "youre not real, youre a game". (lmao it could also really make for some good introspection and/or angst moments where they could philosophize about themselves now that theyre in the game, and the nature of pataphysics and all that fun stuff lmao)

i feel like-- you could also use this as like, a sort of leverage thing? to prove that you are who you say you are and, if this is impostor au, you could use it to your advantage as well in more aggressive ways-- not just as a "prove that youre the one above us all" situation but as a sort of self defence thing-- like when scara and dottore were both talking about the sky being fake thing

obviously youd be immune to eleazar and the madness of the forbidden knowledge caps and the other adverse effects-- BUT you could also inflict those things to the people and the world around you. while other characters like the fatui and the gods could say "youre fake, the world isnt real", they wont inflict the bad stuff since its like they heard the info from a friend of a friend of a friend-- the knowledge has been filtered and purified and fragmented so much that it wont do anything-- its not the full unadulterated truth

but when y/n says it, thats when it inflicts the adverse effects. its the difference between knowing something happened because you were there when it happened and witnessed it, and knowing something happened because you heard it happen from a friend who found out thru the internet. y/n fully knows the truth and intricacies of that statement on so many different levels than the characters can comprehend which is why they can do that.

i feel like it could depend with the volume and amount of people that heard-- like, if you scream it and a whole crowd hears you, the ones closest to you suffer the worst cases of eleazar ever recorded or EVEN DIE, and the severity just decreases the further it gets away from you. itd also be an instant withering zone or become something like the mud from the chasm

i also wanna say that you can "control" the spread in a way but like-- i dont see a way of making that happen tbh. if youre reading this and are getting inspo, go wild babes-- i believe in you, but i personally dont believe that y/n can control it. using the "computer virus" analogy, youd probably have to go into the essence of Teyvat itself to "delete that information" similarly to irminsul but different in the sense of like-- irminsul only put it in the recycle bin but youre going in the recycle bin, selecting all instances and deleting it. maybe you can bullshit it via leylines and abyss mage drops since they carry around leyline branches but i personally think that you just spew out forbidden knowledge, and have to go to irminsul itself to delete it

but yeah! thats my thoughs on Forbidden Knowledge in SAGAU and how it could fit into the world of the AU! making this actually like-- inspired me a bit to write again lmao-- theres just like, so many cool ass concepts in genshin that i dont see in this AU (probably because i havent been there in a while ;vjklldxfg) and i really hope you guys get inspired too :))

[moon-m4n]

Sun and moon fic idea

Y/n is a 3rd Ai added to sun and moon's head. They are a learning Ai made to organize the dca's code. They are an anti virus, support, and teaching Ai. They have no control over the body. They learn to love sun and moon and eventually get their own body.(end game idea) sun hates y/n cuz he can hardly handle moon and now he can't even have silent in the light. Moon is grateful for them due to him being cleaned of the virus and being able to learn new ways to take care of the kids. He unfortunate treats them like a siri.

I need to write this out to figure out more. Oh no I have created a brain worm.

[strawbubbysugar]

I, for one, would like a little more conflict. Mostly concerning the Vanny virus/glitch/bug. It doesn't need to take center stage, but I find it a little anti-climatic for the danger Y/N is in to be so subdued. I know that others have not been safe from the wrath of the DCA, but I feel like Y/N should be a little bit more danger.

I’m seein a lot of this sentiment so ok! :) sorry to everyone who voted for the sleepover to go as planned hehe

[unity-relay-catching-station-a]

{SYSTEM DATA}

{SYSTEM ONLINE} ... ... {LOGIN: *********} {PASSWORD: ************} {...} {WELCOME USER [ERROR] } /run system.status ... {GENERATOR A: ONLINE} {GENERATOR B: ONLINE} {GENERATOR C: OFFLINE} ... /detect infection.amethyst_all.on-world ... {RELAY-CATCHING-STATION A: 0%} {RELAY-CATCHING-STATION B: 50%} {RELAY-CATCHING-STATION C: 74%} {RELAY-STATION A: DISCONNECTED} {RELAY-STATION B: 0%} {RELAY-STATION C: DESTORYED} {BOUNCING-STATION A: DESTROYED} {BOUNCING-STATION B: 68%} {BOUNCING-STATION C: DISCONNECTED} {UNITY HQ: 100%} ... /activate-code-LEWC {ACTIVATION CODE: muffinRIP-bff} {CODE ACCEPTED} {CONFIRM Y/N} /Y ... {RELAY-CATCHING-STATION B&C: DESTROYED} {BOUNCING-STATION B: DESTORYED} {..} {...} {UNITY HQ COULD NOT BE DESTORYED} {INFECTION IN CONTROL OF WHOLE HQ} /disconnect.unityhq_all.everywhere {PASSKEY: ********} {PASSKEY ACCEPTED} {ARE YOU SURE? THIS WILL DISCONNECT HQ FROM EVERY ON AND OFF WORLD SYSTEM AND AREA, SHUTTING DOWN PORTALS AND SYSTEMS RELIANT ON HQ} {CONTINUE Y/N} /Y {...} {UNITY HQ DISCONNECTED FROM NETWORK, SYSTEMS, WIRES, ECT} ... /activate.anti-virus {ANTI-VIRUS ONLINE} /autosend.relay-archives >location:archive-automated-system >folder:[C:\Users\storyteller\Archives\RCS A] {PASSKEY: ********} {COMMAND EXCEPTED} /rename.user {...} {NEW NAME?: StoryTeller/UARU 70} {USER CHANGED} /style.purple&black {SYSTEM/FACILITY STYLE SET} /link.bot.uaru70 {...} {PLEASE PLUGIN LINKCABLE} {LINKCABLE DETECTED} {LINKING} {...} {SYSTEM LINKED} {BOT WILL NOW BE ABLE TO INTERACT WITH TERMINAL ANYWHERE} /reactivate.weapons-systems {SYSTEMS ONLINE} /detect.lifeforms ... {NO LIFE WITHIN FACILITY, OTHER THAN USER} /activate.facility.ai-01 {FACILITY IS NOT EQUIPED WITH AI} /close.terminal /sleep.background-systems {...} {BACKGROUND SYSTEMS OFFLINE} {CLOSING TERMINAL}

[inksquish]

Mxes x Reader part 8 Digital secrets!

( Warning: Alot of hotness! )

Vanessa and Steve were working all night with a new antivirus while Gregory got a new toy for Christmas. "Gregory what's wrong" Glam freddy said while he saw the boy's sad look. "It's my fault... I should've warned Y/n about Mxes but Y/n is caught by the virus" Gregory said so he started crying. "Don't worry we'll save Y/n from this... i promise" the glamrock bear said. Y/n made a message for Vanessa and gregory by using the bunny nodes while Mxes is sleeping. "I hope this help or I'll be trapped here" Y/N said so you send the bunny message to vanessa's computer. Glitchtrap grabs your hips so he smiles at you with a heated look. "Hello Y/n... You stay up with something...? How cute~!" Glitch bunny said so he squeezes your breasts that earn a moan from you. "Since you don't let out the Mimic... I'm going to keep you..Y/n" Glitchy said while he rubs your nipples with his finger tips. You tried not to moan but the glitch bunny's fingers is on your underwear now. "....G-Glitchy... I-l'll....' you almost about to wet your underwear but you saw the Mxes smiles then he does the same,

"Oh~ We're going to breed again... Y/n..." Mxes said with a smirk so he made you lay down and gave you a hickies.

( In the Real world)

Vanessa saw a text so she opens it and read it, "Y/n" Vanessa said with surprise so she bit her bottom lip. It says " Vanessa I'm here but I been caught by Glitchtrap & Mxes... I have an idea to get rid of Glitchtrap or the virus will spread..! You have to get the secret anti virus file i got." Vanessa hits the table with her fist so she knows what you mean about the file then Steve puts a hand on Vanessa and sights.

"Shit... this file works we may lose Y/n..." Steve takes off his glasses and cleans them with a towel but he frowns. "I can't get them now since there's a virus..." Steve sights but he has an idea, The old man looks for his card. "I know a friend but he's going to help us with this~" Steve said proudly, Vanessa stares awkward at the old man dancing. Gregroy listens so he hugs Steve then Steve pushes him away. "Road trips!!" said Gregory while he dancing with Steve too.

[missterious-figure]

(Still deciding on a name for her, so her image will be a placeholder)

She startled at the sound of a bellow, and she crouched lower in the tall grass. She's been following this herd for a good month now, and knew they would start moving soon. She sighed, looking down at the dandelions she held in her hands. She slowly backed up into the forest, shoving the dandelions in her mouth and eating them as she made her departure.

She decided she'll come back the next day, as she knew their general migration path and knew where to find them.

She also needed to leave now because her scent was quite close to Moon's patrol route, so she had to leave now and hope the scent faded before Moon came back from bringing that young fawn over to Sun.

It wouldn't do to be discovered, she would hate to have to go somewhere else and be lonely again. At least here, she can pretend she's part of a group that doesn't care that she's a freak.

As she retracted in the woods, she noticed Eclipse. He had made his way to the back of the herd, closest to the forest. He seemed to be doing a final check to make sure everyone was around. He would nod his head to anyone who greeted him. His arms were folded behind his back. Eclipse's red, orange, and black fur looked beautiful in the sunlight.

Eclipse suddenly stopped. It looked like he couldn't find something. Or someone. Turning to the forest, Eclipse started heading her way.

[crowsandmurder]

Leon Scott Kennedy

LEON KENNEDY TAGS

Leon ✖ (Aesthetics)

Leon ✖ (Thoughts)

Leon ✖ (Character Development)

Leon ✖ (Crack)

Leon ✖ (Headcanons)

Leon ✖ (Photos)

Leon ✖ (Starter Call)

VERSES:

R A C C O O N C I T Y

This verse is a really loose verse, that bases the time that Leon started, at the Raccoon City Police Department and all the trouble that happened there. This will be massively expanded on, but for now, it's a small starting point.

G O V E R N M E N T A G E N T

This verse is a backbone for Leon's huge career as a government agent, special agent, working with STRATCOM, DSO, his dealings with Umbrella, all the problems he had to deal with along the way, especially what happened when he had to rescue Ashley, but many other things. A lot can fall under this.

BIOGRAPHY:

Leon Scott Kennedy had a troubling childhood, losing his own parents, due to their connection in crime. He only survived because of a police officer. This is what led him to become a police officer. He requested his first assignment be being sent to Raccoon City, because of the bizarre murders happening, and he dealt with more than a rookie officer should have to, while there. Not long after the incident, he was recruited by STRATCOM. He quickly went from a rookie to an expert special agent, who was proficient in weapons and close quarters combat.

As a STRATCOM agent, he dealt with many things, especially related to many different versions of the virus, that was introduced in Raccoon City. A really different version of it was introduced when he was sent to rescue the President's daughter and was infected with the Las Plagas. It was far from his only difficult assignment, but it was a pivotal one.

There were many other things that Leon found himself caught up in, as a result of what happened in Raccoon or the Plagas. Umbrella also played a larged part in trying to undo what Leon and allies, enemies, and those who were sometimes both were trying to accomplish.

After STRATCOM, he became a DSO again, but he still is a government agent and trouble still seems to find him, way more than he would like.

"Leon Scott Kennedy is an American of Italian descent currently employed as a federal agent by the Division of Security Operations (D.S.O.), a counter-terrorism agency with direct Presidential oversight. Kennedy is a known survivor of the 1998 Raccoon City Destruction Incident, then as a police officer. Following his escape, he was offered a job in a US.STRATCOM team devoted to anti-B.O.W. combat, and served it until 2011 in repeated operations around the world."(x)

(This is meant to be left vague for plotting reasons. Leon is now added, as a primary muse.)

[antis-hell]

how about you give us some silly system facts of your own??

-🦷

*cackles in about to expose everyone in sys*

Me(anti)

-I'm 168 years old (although my body is jacks so I'm physically around 28) and I do age (I'm turning 169 in June)

-I'm 5'6" and I've always been 5'6" (the body that I live in always either shrinks or grows to that size after a while)

-I'm technically a succubus, but I say virus or demon cus it sounds cooler

-I do have a tail it's pretty much a stereotypical demon tail(thin black with a little arrow on the end) and it shows up whenever it wants really

Yancy

-hes 32 I think

-and he's only a but taller than me I think (imma guess 5'7" or 8" although he's a lot broader so he looks taller)

-actually dances a lot more than he sings

-he has memories of writing both space is cool and the last goodbye during the time that the captain/y/n was away in space

-his hairs a bit longer than it was in source and its ALWAYS messy cus he runs his hands through it a lot

Darky

-hes ageless (though he has memories of the earth's creation)

-hes 5'9" normally or 6' if he's trying to intimidate you

-was our sources stand in for the demon of wrath (and did use the name Satan untill I gave him the nickname darky)

-im pretty sure I've said this before, but he's colour blind and sees everything in shades of grey expect for red

-although he hardly ever actually has his jacket on when fronting he still has a habit of tugging and the collar bit (I think it's called a lapel or something) or adjusting his tie even if it isn't there

And some random ones(cus why not)

-willford is 6'4" making him the second tallest humanoid (second only to mumza who's 8'9") and the tallest ego(he also doesn't have any Korean features like any of the other Mark egos have)

-you can normally tell who was fronting the previous day by how much hair gell/make-up they used

-there is some vague polycule that's throughout the system connecting everyone in a relationship (with the exception of Ray and Stevie)

-most of us either know or want to learn how to draw, although we do all have different styles

-we are, unfortunately, a programmed system, although only a handful of us remember anything about it was like

-Anti💚🗡

[nyanbinary-zack-foster]

Howdy, I'm sal

Welcome to my page, where I put all the stuff I want because this is a lawless wasteland.

Jokes aside I do art, post about my interests, memes etc.

You can call me Sal, Zack, Kris, Vinny, any of those names are chill. My pronouns are they/them, nya/Nyan and vi/vir (based on "virus" to be clear)

I'm greyaroace bi polyam, and i identify as agender/catgender/demongender.

I'm also demonkin and catkin. So there's that?

I'm a selfshipper, I ship myself with N (pokemon), Nagito (Danganronpa) and Asmo (obey me). Doubles are chill with me lol

I like horror rpg maker games, anime, pokemon, vocaloid, roguelikes, virtual pet games... I like games.

My kinlist (doubles also ok) includes Zack Foster (angels of death), Henry (fire emblem), Hajime Hinata (Danganronpa), Noel Levine (witch's heart), Kris Dreemurr (deltarune), Alphys (Undertale), Catnap (poppy playtime don't laugh man), Leafeon (pokemon), Cyndaquil (pokemon), Futaba Sakura (persona 5) and Joker (persona 5). Might be forgetting a few.

I tend to be forgetful AF so be patient with me.

Uhhh

DNI

In no particular order just as I think of em.

Homophobes/transphobes/queerphobes/etc

Proshippers (personal discomfort)

Z*ckr*y shippers

Zionists

Fans of The Coffin of Andy and Leyley

Anti-otherkin/xenogenders/neopronouns

Uhhh that's all for now. Congrats on reaching the end. I'm writing this while I have a headache. Have a picture

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Insurgency: Long Live The Queen

Summary: A totalitarian regime reigns over a South American country in which the virus is being distributed to its citizens at the pretense of a “cure.” Leon was sent to retrieve a sample of the virus mutation when he stumbled upon a group of anti-government activists whose main goal is to overthrow their government. Will Leon help the cause or will he fall down with the government as well?

Warning: Mentions of mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Slow burn. Age gap (Leon is 38 and reader is 21+). Reader is female.

Word count: 5,105

A/N: how we feeling about this so far? :3

[part one][part two][part three][part four][part five][part six][part seven][part eight][bonus]

“The whole question here is: Am I a monster, or a victim myself?” - Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment.

Leon was put into a room after you guys reached La Sénte. He was given food and water as well as a bed for him.

What a nice welcome, he thought.

You were currently in a meeting room with Yarina and other Insurgents.

“The president is on to us. She knows we’ve been the ones targeting her military. From now on, we’ll be facing death head on. This is no time for hesitations. We must act or die,” Yarina stated as she looked down at the papers scattered on the table.

“Yarina, we can’t risk losing people. We will be outnumbered if we want to go to the city states-“

“Enough,” Yarina slams her fists on the table, “We cannot sit back and watch as President Mendez treats our lives as rag dolls. Yes, there’s a chance we will die but I’d rather die fighting than die a coward.”

Silence overtook the room, the atmosphere was tense and heavy. Ever since the President had broadcasted the message of public executions, everyone’s been at edge. Including you.

“Why don’t we use the American?” One of the insurgents spoke up, he seemed to be the secretary of Yarina. “How do we use him exactly?” She asked.

“A life for a life. We send a message to President Mendez demanding that she freed all the captured civilians. In return, we’ll give him to her-“

“A swap,” you interjected. “It won’t work-“ you turned to look at Yarina, “Listen, those soldiers- they’re nothing like the ones we’ve seen. San Bandero is protected by tanks and endless troops. We’ll die the second we step foot there.”

Yarina hums and brought a hand to her chin as she thought hard.

“We’ll split up,” she pointed to the map, “Half of the available Insurgents will storm right into the city with our bomb artillery. I’m talking tanks and rocket launchers. The other half will go underground and perform an evacuation for the remaining citizens who are unharmed. I want this to be quick and efficient. We have no room for mistakes. Prioritize the children.”

Everyone nodded and began to scurry out of the meeting room to prepare for battle. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a second?”

You stopped walking and walked back towards her.

“I heard about what you did for Josue, that was really heroic of your part,” she said quietly.

“It was nothing, really,” you muttered back with a short nod.

Yarina chuckled and patted your back, “Humble too. You never fail to surprise me.”

She cleared her throat before continuing, “Listen, I didn’t just held you back to talk about your accomplishments.”

You could only nod slowly in silence, “I actually wanted to let you know that if I were to die tonight… I want you as our leader.”

Your eyes widened at her statement and you felt your throat run dry, “Yarina… don’t say that. How are you sure you’re-“

“Y/n. There is no guarantee that I’ll make it alive after the mission. The President is on to us and once she finds out that I’m the leader, she’ll kill me.”

You could only stare at her in silence. What she said was true. If President Mendez were to find out that Yarina was the leader of the rebelling group then she’ll most definitely die.

“Okay,” you nodded and agreed quietly, “I’ll do my best to be a good leader.”

Yarina smiled softly and squeezed your arm, “Good, now let’s get this mission over with.”

-

Leon heard the sounds of footsteps through the halls.

They must be making their next move, he thought.

He wondered how exactly everything started. Getting captured by a group of people who want to overthrow the government wasn’t really on his to-do list. But alas here he was.

The food was way better than other times he’s been to other missions. He had to give you guys credit for having edible bread and good chicken.

-

You were put into the group of Insurgents who will storm right into the city. Currently, you seating in a car with other members. Weapons in hands and boxes full of explosives ready to be used.

As you were driven there, the sun began to set. You’ve gotten used to fighting in the dark. It was better since the soldiers’ helmets didn’t really allow them to see at night. This was your advantage.

As you neared the city entry, everyone jumped out of the car and proceeded to blend in with the trees and bushes that surrounded the area.

Hiding behind a bush, you kept watch as the person next to you took out their rocket launcher and shot the city.

Multiple bombs were set off, each hitting a different thing. Buildings, tanks, soldiers- anything they can shoot. The ground shook and insurgents ran out of their hiding spot and began to attack the confused soldiers.

Your weapon ready in your hand, you shot the soldiers in front of you. You managed a few headshots. It was good that you had improved your skills ever since this whole thing started, it was good you were becoming alive.

-

As the insurgents in the sewer system began to drive the citizens of San Bandero out, they felt the ground shook. They needed to get out of there quickly before the roads collapsed on top of them.

“Madam President, there’s an attack in San Bandero. A group of rebels are shooting out soldiers and bombing out buildings. Do you want-“

“No,” the President cut the assistant off. She was angry, more angry than anyone has ever seen her. She stood up and walked towards the window to see. And sure enough, fire and smoke came out of San Bandero.

“Find their leader and bring them to me. I will end this once and for all,” the President said as she walked away from the window and back to her desk.

-

You and Yarina were fighting back to back as the soldiers tried to pounce at you both.

“Fuck! I’m out,” Yarina exclaimed as she tried to shoot with her gun but no bullets came out.

You took Yarina by the arm and dragged her into a collapsed building, giving both of you enough time to reload your weapons.

Yarina was busy reloading her gun as you kept watch, “Yarina…” your eyes widened as you stared at the TV on the tower. Yarina grew confused and then looked out towards the TV as well.

It was a video footage of the sewers- the citizens walking while the insurgents helped them out.

“Citizens of Pruye, let this be a reminder that traitorous acts do not go unpunished. Everyone in relation to rebellion will face consequences,” the President spoke.

Suddenly, a bomb fell down from a plane and into the roads. You and Yarina took cover behind a fallen piece of debris. The ground shook tremendously as heat and light took over.

You couldn’t hear anything for a good minute, only the constant ringing. You peeked at the scene and saw that the bomb had fallen right on top of the people evacuating. Your eyes trailed towards the TV and couldn’t help but let out a soft sob.

Children, women, men and insurgents lying dead on the floor. No trace of life after the explosion. Smoke and ashes filled the air and your hearing got back.

You heard Yarina scream and turned your head over your shoulder to find Yarina being taken away by two soldiers, “¡¡Come mierdas- todos ustedes!!”

You were about to start running towards her but another soldier lunged at you, pinning you the ground. You gripped their wrist and tried to not let them stab with the knife they had in their hands. With as much energy you could muster, you harshly threw the soldier off of you and shot them in the head with your gun.

You looked back at where Yarina was last seen but she was gone. Panic and anxiety coursed through you. You didn’t want to think about it. But you knew Yarina was going to die.

-

It’s been three hours since Yarina got captured. The remnants of San Bandero were the only thing that remained of what was once a lively city. Now it was just debris and dead bodies all around.

Some insurgents were being treated for their wounds and others were patrolling the streets. You were sitting down the sidewalk as you contemplated what to do.

It wasn’t until the TV on the tower turned on and President Mendez spoke,

“Citizens of Pruye, with every heartbreak comes good news. Although a city of ours has been destroyed, we too, have something that is worth destroying for those who oppose me.”

The camera pans to Yarina kneeling down before a soldier who has a gun pointed at her forehead. Her hands were tied behind her back as she had a piece of cloth around her mouth, gagging her.

“Yarina…” you whispered as you stood up and stared at the screen.

“Let this be a lesson for all. You cannot win a helpless fight,” the President continued.

The soldier hooked his finger around the trigger all while Yarina maintained eye contact with him. She didn’t fear death, she wasn’t scared in that moment. Yarina is a smart person, she’s known all along that by starting this rebellion she’d face her ultimate death. Not once did she flinch nor did she beg for mercy.

She took a deep breath and let her body fall to the ground after the soldier pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrating her skull, sucking the life out of her. A poodle of blood surrounded her head as she died with her eyes opened.

Gasps and screams were heard from the other insurgents around you. You, yourself, felt anger. Anger at yourself, anger at the government, anger at the whole world. But beneath all that anger, was a girl who feared and cried. She was hurt- you were hurt. And nothing is this world could do anything to settle the turmoil inside you.

-

Leon was brought to the meeting room right after everyone reached base. News of Yarina’s death reached everyone, including him.

You stood at the center of the table, the proclaimed new leader. Your whole demeanor changed, you were serious and angry. Your eyes held a pain that only Leon could guess and relate to, because he also knew what it felt like to lose people right in front of your eyes.

He didn’t say anything and allowed the insurgents to pull him in front of the table.

“Change of plans,” you started as you began to motion for everyone around the table, including Leon. He raised a brow but obliged.

“Everyone knows San Jolonia has medical supplies and weapons we can use. If we are going to fight Mendez, we must be ready,” your brows were pinched together and your tone was serious and a little terrifying to some.

“But San Jolonia has been abandoned. The President ordered for people to leave the city,” one of the insurgents said. You nodded, “I know, hence why I need to take this opening and take as much as we can- guns, medicine, food, clothes. I won’t let anything go to waste.”

“Wait… you’ll go by yourself? Y/n I don’t think that’s safe, you saw what happened to-“

“I know,” you mumbled and stared down at the map in the center of the table, “San Jolonia is abandoned. Plus, the American is coming with me.”

The insurgent’s eyes widened and Leon only stared at you with mild shock.

“Y/n- you can’t trust him. What if he-“

“If I wanted to kill her, I would’ve done so already,” Leon interjected. He stared at you and you stared back, the tension high.

“I saw what happened to one of your people,” Leon continued just a little bit softer. The atmosphere turned solemn and some insurgents looked away as he began to talk about Yarina.

Leon sighed, “I want to help.”

You furrowed your brows and narrowed your eyes in skepticism, “Why?”

“Because no one should deal with this type of control. You are fighting against a dictator and you’ll need all the help you can get…” he exhaled and looked away briefly, “I’ve seen people die in front of me as well. Feeling helpless and unable to do anything to save everyone… it’s a shitty feeling.”

Your face fell and you nodded slowly, he looked back at you from across the table, “Let me join you. If there’s anyway I can help, I’ll take it. No more innocent lives need to die.”

He was right, in a way. If you want to bring down the government, you’ll need help. And Leon was an American soldier. They’re known to be ruthless and strong. It would a great asset to have him.

“Okay,” you nodded, “untie him.”

An insurgent went behind Leon and untied his hands. He massaged his wrists and then looked at you.

“You and I are leaving tonight, do not be late,” it was the last thing you told him before you left the room.

-

You waited for Leon at the gate, it was dark outside. The night breeze flowing gently through the trees and grass. Leon approached you as he was checking his gun.

"You ready?" you asked him before opening the gate. He nodded at you, "Yeah, let's get this over with."

Since it was nighttime, you decided not to use a vehicle. It was dangerous already if the soldiers were to notice a vehicle roaming around, then they'd most likely shoot you. So, you settled on foot.

As you and Leon walked through the forest, he couldn't help but make small talk with you.

"So..." he started quietly as he pushed some branches out of his face.

"So?" you mumbled as you led the way, "Whatever you want to say, just say it."

He hummed and chuckled faintly behind you, "Aren't you the nice one..." He shook his head and walked beside you.

"Listen, I don't doubt your skills or anything..."

"But?" You raised a brow as you glanced at him before looking back at the forest.

"But don't you think you should... take a break? I mean- a lot has happened to you and not taking the time to process what just happened can cause you to-"

You stopped and turned to face him, "I didn't ask for a therapist. I'm fine- we need to push forward."

He sighed and watched as you walked ahead of him. He sighed and followed behind you.

-

You both reached the outskirts of San Jolonia, abandoned and ruined. Must've been President Mendez's doing.

"Don't stray off too far," you said as you walked towards the entrance of the city state, "I don't you to get lost so just keep close."

Leon nodded and silently walked behind you. It was completely silent, except for the sound of your footsteps. The night was cold and the air was soft. You walked towards an abandoned pharmacy and began to stuff your bag with as many things as possible. Leon stood behind you, keeping watch in case something were to come out.

There was a strange peace between the two of you. Like as if both of you already knew what the other thought. When you're involved in a battle, it can help bring people together.

And Leon couldn't help but feel sympathy for you. You were young, too young to be in something like this. Sure, wanting to fight for your freedom is a noble cause. But he also understands the pain that comes with it. He's conflicted. He wants to help in two ways- wants to fight alongside you but he also wants to avoid a war. But you seem set on the idea of war and there's nothing in his power that can change that.

You weren't dumb, you knew Leon thought this. It was written in his face. The man had a great sense of justice and only cared for the lives of the unfortunate. If you had to guess, you'd say he probably feels a lot of guilt. A guilt that kept on piling up as the years went by.

"We should camp out, it's getting late," You broke the silence and walked towards another abandoned building.

One of its walls was collapsed while parts of the ceiling were missing. You stepped inside the ruined building and began to set up a fire. Leon was too far behind, he walked slowly as his eyes looked around. It wasn’t everyday that he would get pulled into events like this.

After you started a fire, you sat in front of it and began to pull out some food you brought, “Hungry?”

Leon looked at you and shook his head no, “I’m good, thanks.” He went over to sit next to you as you shrugged, “Suit yourself,” you muttered under your breath before you took a bite out of a piece of bread.

Leon stared at the fire in silence. He was aware of the occasional glances you’d throw him but he hasn’t said anything, yet.

You sighed and looked back at the fire, remaining in silence once again.

“Why are you here?” You mumbled and looked at him.

“You told me to come-“

“That wasn’t what I meant,” you cut him off. “What made you come to this place?”

He looked back down at you before shrugging faintly and looking back at the fire, “Got sent here. Wasn’t really my choice.”

His voice was quiet and the light from the fire highlighted his features. You never actually sat down to get a good look at him but now that were, you couldn’t help but think hoe handsome he was. His foggy blue eyes piercing down at the flames as his dark fringe fell down the sides of his face. His stubble had been growing for a while- maybe even before he got sent here.

You exhaled softly and looked back at the fire, “So you were forced…”

He nodded, “Yep. I mean, it’s also partly my fault in a way. I work for the government and I get these… missions. Shits crazy when life hits you with the consequences of your actions, don’t you think?”

“I guess…” you mumbled and looked down at the bread in your hands, “So, you’re like a personal soldier or something?”

Leon chuckled and looked at you for a brief moment, “You’ve been watching way too many American movies.”

This time, you smiled softly and looked back at him, “What can I say? You Americans are the leaders of entertainment.”

That caused him to smile back, “Good point…” he exhaled softly before looking back at the fire, “But no. I’m not a personal soldier or whatever. I’m just an agent. I work in the defense department, lots of fighting.”

You hummed quietly and looked back at the fire in silence for a moment before speaking up in a cautious tone, “Was it your dream to become an agent?”

Leon felt his body freeze at that question. He blinked slowly as his expression fell slightly and then looked at you with a pained expression, “No, it’s not.”

Your own expression mimicked his as he continued, “I wanted to be a cop. Like the ones in Brooklyn 99 or Chicago P.D. But after…” he quickly trailed off, deciding whether or not he could tell you about Raccoon City.

“After?” You asked,

“After Raccoon City,” he replied quietly.

You were aware of what happened in Raccoon City. It made global news how the U.S. nuked it’s own people. But no one knew as much as Leon and you could tell that it left him with a big weight on his shoulders.

“When I escaped Raccoon City, my whole life changed… I was no longer the 21 year old rookie cop,” his gaze trailed on, no long focusing on the fire. Right now, he was somewhere else.

“I met this girl, when the whole Raccoon City thing started, she was like 10 or 11- and I couldn’t help but feel… anger. Not at her, obviously, but at everyone else. Children died that day, sisters… brothers… everyone died and I couldn’t save them,” he inhaled sharply,

“It felt like everyone moved on and I’m still stuck in that same fucking time-loop…” he looked down at you, “Not a day goes by where I don’t dream about it. About everything.”

You stared back at him and watched as his eyes told the story. His raw emotions emanated from within, “To this day, I still see them. Every figure and shadow of what remained of that goddamn city. The guilt to not have been able to help… it hurts more than anything in the world.”

He turned to look back at the fire in silence. You’ve never seen someone so hurt. Although it took you by the surprise, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. All those years that went by and he’s still in the same place.

“Is that why you’re helping us? Because you don’t want to feel guilt?” You asked quietly.

He nodded, “If I can help… I wouldn’t let the opportunity pass by. I’ll take hold of whatever chance I get to save people.”

You stared at him for a moment in silence. It was very noble of him basically risking his life for people- dangerous but very noble.

"You know," you started quietly, "I didn't even know how to fight before.. all of this even started." Leon raised his brow at you and then chuckled. He shook his head and stared back at you, "I can tell. When we first fought, you had so many openings."

You rolled your eyes at him and then looked back at orange flames, "Give me a break. I was just some random girl working in a canteen... before chaos took place," memories of when the soldiers first came with their tanks filled your mind. You sat there in silence before finally saying something. If he basically trauma dumped on you then why shouldn't you as well?

"My brother died from a soldier," you mumbled softly as you fiddled with the bread, "He was out with his friends one night and some soldiers came up to him. They tried to arrest him but he resisted and eventually... he got shot."

The words barely came out of your mouth. It was painful to rethink about all of the deaths that happened, but Leon knew that. He understands the pain.

"I'm sorry about your brother," he mumbled. You swatted your hand in the air before looking back at him, "He wasn't the only one I lost. I lost my two friends from my job... we got bombed and one of them got squashed by a building and the other... bled to death..."

Leon remained silent as he listened to you. He may not have been there when all of that happened, but he knew the pain.

A dry chuckle escaped your lips, "And now Yarina is dead, and I became the leader of her group... I feel like life is mocking me. It's like, 'Hey! You lost your friends but don't worry! You'll lose more people'... These types of battles don't go well- i know that. But a part of me wishes that i should've just left. Left for America for a better future... Instead, I'm stuck here leading a rebellion." You took a bite out the bread and got quiet. Leon was just watching you, reading you. He could tell you were in a lot of pain, more pain than you believe.

He sighed and looked back at the fire, "Life's been shitty to the both of us, huh?"

The ends of your lips curled up slightly as you nodded, "Pretty much."

"You look young... life can get better for you, trust me," he mumbled softly.

"I don't feel young. Does it ever actually get better?" you asked as you turned your head to look at him.

He looked back at you and shook his head, "No, it doesn't... but you learn to live with it."

"I don't want to live with it... I want to forget everything ever even happened. I want to live a normal life..."

Leon looked at you with sad eyes, "But that's not the case, is it? You can dream all you want but the hard truth will always drag you back to reality... and it's a reality you must live in."

You stared into his eyes for a moment in silence as he stared back at you. The atmosphere was complicated. One minute you were cautious of him and then the next you express your inner emotions to him. And now the tension was high. For what? You don't know but you could swear you saw his eyes drift down to your lips.

It's not like you were a virgin, you had your own experiences. But yet, you felt something starting to build inside you and you could almost see it in him as well. Feelings were growing when they shouldn't be.

Your eyes drifted down to his and you leaned a little closer. But your subconscious mind pulled you back. You turned your head away, "We shouldn't..." you whispered.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes lingering on your lips, "Says who?"

"This is wrong. It feels wrong... I mean, we're in the middle of an incoming war. Is it even okay?"

Leon brought his hand to your cheek and gently forced you to look back at him, "You're not killing anybody. It's okay," he whispered as his thumb caressed your cheek.

You swallowed and allowed him to gently pull you towards him. You closed your eyes and felt his breath on your face as he brought you two together.

His lips landed on yours in a soft kiss. Lips so soft and tender despite the environment. He kissed you gently and brought you closer as you rested your hands on his shoulders. His free hand traveling to your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. You gasped softly against his lips and he took the opportunity to bring his tongue inside your mouth. His tongue entangled itself with your tongue. It felt so intimate yet so calm. He was kissing you as if he didn't want to hurt you. You've been hurt far too much already but this kiss felt like a band-aid on top of your scars.

He pulled apart to catch his breath, eyes opening to look at your face. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were already staring at his. He brushed some hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear. There was a moment of silence as the two of you just sat there staring at each other.

"Rest," he whispered, "We still have a lot of things to do tomorrow."

You nodded slowly and laid down on your side, giving your back to Leon. You closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Leon watched as you fell asleep, he took off his jacket and laid it on top of you. So many thoughts lingered in Leon's mind but he also had questions about your previous conversation.

He knew death was inevitable but seeing everyone- including you- fight with so much resolve made him believe that you had the opportunity to do something he couldn't.

To save people.

He wasn't jealous or mad, rather, he felt a sense of guilt. He didn't want to see you die. Leon wanted to see you and the rest of your people overthrow the government. He beg the heavens above to let you live just a little bit longer if it meant seeing you free this country.

He'd plead to whoever.

-

An announcement alarm went off and the TV from the tower turned on. Flashing images of people lined up, kneeling down with bags over their heads, with soldiers behind them pointing their guns at their heads.

You woke up as stared at the screen, which Leon did was well. The two of you watched as the soldiers began to shoot the people one by one. Their bodies falling limp against the floor and letting the blood pool around them.

Your heart felt heavy and you tried to move but couldn't. You were frozen in place.

"We've captured more traitors who must pay the price for their treason," President Mendez said.

You felt anger. Some were children.

In a fit of anger, you took your gun and dashed out of the ruined building you were in. Leon followed behind you, "Wait- where are you going?"

You ignored him and kept walking. He ran behind you and pulled your arm to stop you, "Y/n..."

Eyes welling up with tears of anger, you looked at him with so much anger, "Those were kids. And she's killing them like pieces in a game. I need to do something-" you harshly pulled your arm away from him and ran towards the tower. Leon quickly caught up to you and hooked his arm around your waist. He hoisted you up in the air and you thrashed in his hold.

You cried. Sobbed and screamed in anger. The once silent abandoned city was now filled with your angry screams.

"Let me go!" You struggled against him, but he didn't move. He knew you were going through a meltdown, and it wasn't safe for you to act in a fit of anger.

"I said let me go!!... let me go," your head fell forward as he slowly put you down on the floor. You clung to him as you cried loudly. You were so angry and hurt. This was the last straw for you.

It was heartbreaking, really. There was nothing you could do except watch as these innocent people died. President Mendez won this battle but you vowed to yourself that you'll win this war.

War.

You declared war.

-

Both you and Leon walked back to base. Something changed in you as you walked through the halls and towards the meeting room.

You slammed your fists on the table, "Send a message to the president," you started with anger on your tone and face.

"Tell her that tomorrow morning, we will start a war. And we will win this war."

The other insurgents looked at you and then at Leon who stood behind you. They all stood still and you only got more angry.

"I said- send her a fucking message that says we declare war on her. Now."

[starlitfunkster]

Some horror AU for Inanimate Insanity. I have more designs, but right now they are mere ideas.

Hide and Seek are animatronics that were abandoned and then possessed by the spirits of Apple + Marshmallow (Hide), and Cherries (Seek). Seek's supposed to be fire damaged.

And uh... M̶̧̞̬̻̺̦̩̬͇͈͔͆͐̏̐͌̐̽̽̈̓̇̇͜ͅͅẢ̷̢̜̱͎̥̘̙͙̩͎̟͖̱̲̰̲̱͔̗͒̈́͒͒̕͝͝Ļ̵̧̤̭̗̣͉̈́͊̔̅͆̎̈̇͗̿͂̈̕͠͝ͅͅẂ̴̧̨͖̺̼̘͓̘̝̲͖̙͎̟̹͌̃̅͂͆̑̎̿͋̑̕͜͠A̸̡̺͉͖͓̬̻͉̫̞̗̼̠̩̪͐̎͗̈́͌̏͗́̔̏̑̏̚͝ͅR̵̭̯̳̻̯̳̯͙̥͂̈̄̉̂̀͋͠͝͠Ḙ̵̛͈͎͓̻̃̓̔ is an entity that corrupts the Virtual Objects, which are where Test Tube, Lightbulb, Paintbrush and Fan are. They are virtual, and there's virtual discontent.

Cabby was making prototype robot bodies for her fellow scientists that were mutilated, and M̶̧̞̬̻̺̦̩̬͇͈͔͆͐̏̐͌̐̽̽̈̓̇̇͜ͅͅẢ̷̢̜̱͎̥̘̙͙̩͎̟͖̱̲̰̲̱͔̗͒̈́͒͒̕͝͝Ļ̵̧̤̭̗̣͉̈́͊̔̅͆̎̈̇͗̿͂̈̕͠͝ͅͅẂ̴̧̨͖̺̼̘͓̘̝̲͖̙͎̟̹͌̃̅͂͆̑̎̿͋̑̕͜͠A̸̡̺͉͖͓̬̻͉̫̞̗̼̠̩̪͐̎͗̈́͌̏͗́̔̏̑̏̚͝ͅR̵̭̯̳̻̯̳̯͙̥͂̈̄̉̂̀͋͠͝͠Ḙ̵̛͈͎͓̻̃̓̔ can possess them to make them kill the player (aka [Y/N])!

Super fnaf vibes, which is intentional. I made these ideas because I found another II Horror AU and I was like: But what if I turned this into a FNAF style game?

Hide and Seek are the only animatronics that roam around the building. I guess in read more is how they would work? They are supposed to be in like.. a part 2 to the main story, being Nights 6 - 10.

Hide - An animatronic Apple with it's partner's head stabbed into it's skull. True to their name, they hide in the shadows and are hard to see. If they enter the Virtual Lab, you must hide under the desk. Or else they will find and kill you. Thank god they have a noise cue, or else it'd be impossible to know if they have entered the V. Lab. Seek - An animatronic pair of maraschino cherries that are burnt and their right and left eye respectively have melted together. Their stem is also just as burnt. If you hear loud footsteps rapidly approaching the office, shut off the power and hide. Make sure there is no Virtual Discontent before doing so. Virtual Objects (Virtu-Bulb, Virtu-Brush, Vitru-Tube, Vitru-Fan) - Before the anti-virus was installed to keep MALWARE away from them, they were virtual recreations of Lightbulb, Paintbrush, Test Tube and Fan, the survivors of the incident (or so the Player thinks). The Malware versions of them are just robotic husks meant to resemble them, with MALWARE hopping between them like a Rotom. The actual virtual's are very nice, and are just trying to help. Provided you give them attention from time to time. MALWARE - A malicious entity contained inside the robotic body meant to house the spirit of Bow. Only started to move around in its body after the anti-virus was installed in the virtual program. If she enters the room, zap her. That's the only way to make her go away. She dies after Night 10, with the spirit of Bow being peaceful and non-aggressive to the player.

[grompf3]

De l'eau de javel pour soigner une mycose vaginale ?... Et c'est même pas le pire !

L'ordre des médecins des Îles Baléares a exclu la Dre Nadiya Popel, surnommée la "Dre Eau-de-Javel" ("Doctora Lejía").

Cette expulsion de la part de l'ordre des médecins des Baléares, qui équivaut à une interdiction d'exercer n'est que le dernier épisode d'une longue saga.

Le dioxyde de chlore c'est un composé utilisé dans l'eau de javel (en gros), très prisé de certains charlatans qui en ont fait une sorte de panacée. La Dr N Popel en était fan, d'où son surnom de "Dra Lejía" ("Dre Eau-de-Javel").

Il y a 2 ans, les autorités sanitaires des Îles Baléares avaient prononcé contre elle une suspension de 4 ans. Elle travaillait alors dans un hôpital public et elle s'était distinguée, entre autres, pour ses propos antivax.

Elle avait recouru et, dans l'attente d'un jugement sur le fond, un tribunal avait ordonné sa réadmission en tant qu'employée de l'hôpital (juin 2022). Sauf qu'à l'époque, déjà, elle avait été sanctionnée par la section locale de l'Ordre des Médecins. Ce qui l'empêchait en théorie d'exercer.

Pire, la Dre N Popel affirmait souffrir d'une pathologie faciale qui l'empêchait de porter un masque. Donc elle refusait de porter un masque.

Pour travailler en tant que toubib dans un hosto, je le rappelle.

Du coup, elle a été affectée à des tâches administratives.

Tâches administratives ou pas, elle était de nouveau officiellement toubib. Donc, elle pouvait prescrire...

Et du coup, il s'est avéré qu'elle prescrivait généreusement toutes sortes de remèdes, disons, douteux. Se servant des réseaux sociaux, elle recommandait, et prescrivait, de l'Ivermectine pour soigner le Covid.

Et pas que ça.

L'hôpital ayant dû, toujours en attente d'un jugement de fond, la réintégrer pleinement, elle a pu s'en donner à cœur joie.

C'est donc ainsi qu'une femme s'est pointé dans un hôpital public sur l'Île de Minorque pour une mycose vaginale et elle en est repartie avec une prescription de dioxyde de chlore (à commander sur internet).

La patiente s'est adressée ensuite à un médecin privé qui lui a fortement déconseillé d'ingérer la substance en question. Elle a ensuite dénoncé l'affaire aux autorités sanitaires.

Il y a eu récemment une enquête d'une télévision espagnole qui ont montré comment la "Dre Eau-de-Javel", organisait des conférences dans des arrières-salles de bistrot

Au menu, des discours antivax...

"Quand nous sommes petites, à 13 ou 14 ans, on nous vaccine contre la rubéole pour que, lorsque nous sommes enceintes, nous n'attrapions pas la rubéole et que notre enfant ne naisse pas malformé, mais ce qu'ils font, c'est introduire les cellules d'un virus cultivé, qui produit le cancer du sein".

...Mais aussi la promotion de remèdes charlatanesques (notamment contre le cancer...). Elle se livrait à des prescriptions et même à des démonstrations d'administration de son traitement miracle favori (le fameux dioxyde de chlore).

Donc voilà.

Que du grand classique.

Le dioxyde de chlore comme panacée. L'ivermectine contre le Covid. Refus de porter le maque en milieu hospitalier. Effets secondaires apocalyptiques attribués aux vaccins (et pas qu'aux vaccins anti-covid).

Vous ne vous étonnerez pas si je vous dis que notre Dre Eau-de-Javel est très appréciée chez les "chercheurs de vérité"... Elle était notamment apparue dans "The Big Reset Movie", une espèce de version espagnole de "Hold Up" (aux côtés de X Azalbert, Ch Perronne, J-D Michel, L Montagnier et d'autres personnages du même genre, connus d'un côté ou de l'autre des Pyrénées pour leur amour du charlatanisme et des théories conspis).