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unholyhelbig · 2 months ago

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please please please mary x reader

Title: I Miss the Way Things Used to Be [18+]

[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four] | Main Masterlist

Ship: Female!Reader x Mary (Sinners 2025)

Summary: It's been twenty years since you've fallen out with Mary, the same woman that changed you all that time ago. Though you're not shocked to see her, you miss her more than you're willing to admit.

Dt💕: @luciferdidwhat, @thinking1bee

Warnings: Blood, biting, cannon-typical violence, pet names (Darling, sweet girl, all the fun southern dialects), Grinding/ dry humping (Mary Recieving), slight dom/sub tones, use of good girl, blood drinking, implied death, mentions of murder, funeral, angst, drinking, and horrible grammar, I don't proofread.

[A/n: Alright, I'll admit it, I've got Mary brainrot. I'm going to see the movie again tomorrow night with some friends, and I'll have the keep the secret that I write about this woman to dicking me down! Let me know what you think!]

The café was open later than it used to be in the 40’s. It had taken over the bookstore when physical media went out of fashion, somewhere along the line changing from leather-bound books to something that held the knowledge of the world behind a device that sat heavy on a desk. You prided yourself on staying current- up with the times, but something that would never change was the ache you felt in the pit of your stomach each time you saw the everchanging storefront of Monarch.

They’d kept the name, at least. A homage to the rich history of the city. The apartment you used to share with Kate had been turned into offices in the 80’s when renting on the block had become too steep for anyone but the owners of the brownstone, but the windows stayed the same. The exterior and the floors and the walls were all the same. Built to last.

The light fixtures had been updated to something modern and sleek. Bursts of dark roast filled your lungs and hints of floral white tea curled around you. Music played from a boombox behind the counter. Something soft and languid.

You ordered a black coffee for the simple fact of wanting to feel something warm in your stomach, something human, and settled in a booth by the windows. The edges were frosted from the temperature change. The script against the glass was preserved by the historical society. A woman you’d never had the pleasure of meeting named Lisa had hand-painted it, according to legend.

You breathed in the oaky, spiced scent of the blend. Despite the lack of books in this place, you had to admit that they offered up a good drink. More than that, it opened up a moment of peace in the Mississippi Delta that was always evaded.

The bitter drink never touched your lips. You set it down and slowly opened your eyes to the occupied seat across from you. There was no jolt of anxiety that skyrocketed through you, no, not with this one.

She’d been following you for days. Keeping her distance with her hands deep in her pockets and her head ducked as if you would actually turn around and nail her with a stare. You went about your business because there was nothing else to do.

Instead, you’d leveled her with an unimpressed stare and leaned back into the plush of the booth. The silence tumbled in the empty vacuum of space that rested between you both. Neither wanting to acknowledge how close you were to a treasure of memories just a floor above.

Mary.

She wore a leather jacket like a second skin, open to a black t-shirt that hugged her figure. Her hair was longer, pushed to the side. A dark swath of makeup lined her eyes. She was admittedly stunning. 1990 was treating her well. A little too well for your liking. The moisture was effectively zapped from your mouth.

You’d taken on a clean-cut look yourself. A sweater to combat the cold, or to at least keep up the appearance of such. Something soft and classic and a mix of neutrals that fit you just fine in Boston but made you stand out here. You ached for the cobblestone and the red ivy, and the constant flow of rain. Even in the dead of winter, the heat was too startling here.

“When I heard you were back in town, I thought, there was no way.” She leaned forward, taking your mug from the neutral ground and taking a long, slow sip. Her lips left a red tint behind on the rim. “Because my girl? No, my girl wouldn’t walk the streets of Mississippi without lettin’ me know she was here.”

You swallowed back a groan at her antic, instead clenching your jaw and lifting your eyebrow. She was livid. Despite the calm rasp to her voice, there was anger lingering just beyond the brewing storm.

“But here you are, enjoying a cup of coffee at the Monarch of all places.” She lowered her voice to a hush “Does it bring back memories for you? Make you uncomfortable?”

A long sigh escaped you as you picked up the mug and placed your mouth over the same spot Mary had, enveloping the pink stain with your lips and gulping down the scalding liquid, not pulling your eyes away from hers. An act of defiance that rivaled the warmth in your stomach.

“I’m not here for you. I’m here out of respect for Sammie.”

Her face softened at this, but only for a moment. “Could’ve sent a letter.”

“To whom? His cello player? She stopped responding to me the second she found out I had anything to do with the likes of you and Stack. Doesn’t matter how close Sammie and I became. What happened that night was none of my business and never will be, but it’s hers.”

“The Cello player?”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

She scoffed at you but didn’t correct you in her line of thinking. You saw it in the deep brown of her eyes, wondered if they flickered a deep scarlet now, not the same blinding and kind white that you’d known. As kind as she could be.

The context weighed heavily on you both. Preacher Boy was the last connection to Mary’s life before the sticky taste of blood was all she could remember. A tether that reminded her of the night at the Juke Joint all those years ago. The one person who had made it out with a pulse was about to be bones in the ground with the rest of them.

Your fingers twitched and you moved them to your lap, not figuring yourself strong enough to keep your hands away from hers in an act of learned comfort. It would be so easy to run your thumbs over her calloused knuckles. To hold her flush against you while she mourned the loss of a friend.

Over the scattered years, Mary would take you to see Sammie’s shows. He was a brilliant musician. He was past that, if you were being honest. Listening to him play was like swallowing a warm cup of tea, the bottom of the cup coated in melted hot honey. The first two decades, she’d grasp at your hand and pull you away before he could notice her presence. The third decade, she introduced you.

He was as kind as his lyrics. Even those who only listened to Preacher Boy Sammie sing, felt the waves of his death. A string on the devils fiddle snapped. The flames burned a little less hot, just for one day. Just to mourn the loss.

“I don’t want you here.” Mary said pointedly.

“You’re a real charmer, you know that? Twenty years and you still know how to flirt flawlessly.”

“This isn’t a joke, y/n.”

You took another sip of your coffee, taking in her stance over the rim of the cup. Mary flashed an expression that you’d only seen once before. Mary was scared. It tumbled away the second it appeared but it was there nonetheless. The same as it had been the night you decided you had had enough.

“What’s going on, Mary? Are you in some kinda trouble?”

“Trouble? No.” She shook her head, pursed her lips and averted her stare from your own as if she couldn’t tell a lie straight to your face. “No trouble, angel. Forgive me if I’d rather not see the woman who walked out on me when things got rough.”

“Rough? Mary, you were ripping through people left and right. I still have the newspaper clippings about the Delta Demon. You were out of control.”

“And you were a coward.”

You snapped your jaw shut, adjusting yourself against the vinyl seat. She watched you carefully as you stretched your arm over its length, shifting your ankle to your knee. Mary was deflective, an angry scrunch to her nose, admittedly adorable.

“I might have been a coward, but I made you feel something all the same. Mary, you don’t think that was hard for me?” You swallowed the dryness in your throat, the bitter coat of coffee. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. You gave me life and I had to walk away from the one we created together just to snap you out of it”

She stared at you silently, the low hum of music from behind the counter mixed with a steam exhale of the espresso machine. Both of you were so accustomed to the background grind of noise that constantly surrounded the air.

“Unless I didn’t and you’ve spent the last two decades slaughtering anything with a pulse and forgetting that we had something at all.”

“You’ve grown bold in Boston.” Mary leaned forward, the ghost of a smirk pulling her lips upward. “It’s fucking sexy.”

You weren’t exactly proud of yourself for your next actions, though, you were proud of the Monarch for having a bathroom door that locked not once, but twice. The chain slid into place easily. It was natural, much like the way Mary fit flush against your body.

You pushed her against the bathroom door, mouth hot on her own. It wasn’t a graceful kiss. It was hungry and desperate and tinged with the sour taste of coffee that was way too expensive for what it was. When she let out her first moan, swallowing the sound was a new brand of heaven.

Both of your hands were against her hips, holding her in place with a bruising grip. Mary moved to flip the two of you around, but you held firm, moving back and leveling her with an unimpressed stare. “Still have issues with control, huh?”

She growled deep in her chest “What do you think?”

You scoffed and returned your full attention to her, attaching your lips to her neck as if you were a starved animal. She let out a stuttered breath and tilted her head to the side, allowing you more access. The tips of your fingers grazed the warmth of her thighs, the hem of her jean skirt.

You placed your knee in between both of her legs, feeling the instant heat of her. You’d worked her up, wondered how long it had been since she felt a satisfying touch. She gasped and it bled into a stuttered moan.

“Mm, so sensitive.” You hummed against her skin, letting your fingers slide under her shirt, nails dragging against her toned stomach. “You’re so worked up, baby. So desperate.”

“Shut the hell up,” Mary pressed down to generate more pressure against her core, wasn’t quite satisfied “Stop teasing and fuck me, already.”

The chuckle escaped you naturally and infuriated her more, your other hand grasping her chin and angling it towards you, lips ghosting her own. “If you want to come so badly, why don’t you grind against me and fuck yourself?”

Mary’s hand splayed against your chest and a scoff left her. Though, her flushed cheeks and heavy pants gave her desperation away. You loved this look on her, felt a thrill from being in control. Having her under you after all these years.

“You can’t be serious, babydoll.” She whined, jutting out her lip in a pout. “That’s humiliating.”

“That’s the point.”

Mary swallowed hard, let her head thump against the door, but you felt her grind down all the same, her stuttered breath warming your collarbone. The sensation must have been satisfying enough because she did it again, back and forth, and then again.

Soon, Mary was bracing herself against your shoulders and falling apart on your tensed thigh. You felt her heat, her wetness, soak through the fabric of your pants. She fell forward and tucked her forehead into the small of your neck, breathed you in desperately.

“That’s it, sweetie, take what you want.”

You coaxed her easily, earned a grunt in return as you pressed her hips down, creating more tension. She was trembling now, so close. Her fingers curled into the fabric of your sweater as she picked up the pace, breaths rapid.

“You don’t have to fight it,” You whispered against the flushed color of her cheek. “Let yourself come undone like the desperate little slut that you are.”

Mary tensed against you, muffling her moan in the fabric of your shirt. You could feel the drool, the slick on your leg. She’d looped her arms around your midsection and held you close, closer than she had in years. You worked her through her high, even as she slowed her movements to a stop and breathed through her release.

She swallowed the dryness in her throat, nose cold against your pulse point and hands gripping you as if you were the only thing keeping her steady. If she weren’t so close, you wouldn’t have caught her words. “I don’t want you here.”

“No, you want me inside of you.” You shot back quickly, a flash of anger washing through you despite the fact that you didn’t want her to let you go. She made no move to. “Don’t get snarky because I made you work for something.”

She pushed her head against the door, a fucked-out expression on her face. “I work for plenty. You know how hard it is to keep my patience around you?”

“Mm, I don’t, but you can tell me.”

Mary let out a frustrated grumble and shoved you off her, pulling the bunched-up fabric of her skirt back down before crossing to the mirror to check her makeup. It had smudged from the tears that streaked her cheeks, left charcoal lines behind. You were thankful that the reflective surfaces were nothing but a myth.

“Fucking infuriating.” She dragged her finger against the pigment at the corner of her lip. “Eternity has made you a brat.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the obnoxious puke green tiles. “Listen, I wasn’t lying when I said I was only here for Sammie. Stack called, asked if I would attend a memorial. I’d regret it if I didn’t.”

Mary’s eyes met your own in the reflection. Instead of disdain, there was sadness. A certain level of affection that rushed straight to your gut, reminded you of the old Mary. The Mary that was tangled up in the moonlight just upstairs, all limbs and love.

“Alright,” she murmured, “alright, I know. I just… didn’t want something like this to happen.”

“Some things are inevitable.”

She turned and faced you, her palms resting against the granite of the countertop. Hair fell into her stormy eyes. They were captivating, beautiful in a way that was inhuman, just as she had made you under her own volition all those years ago.

“Even if we’re stuck in one place, one age, one lifetime, the world moves around us just the same. Maybe it’s better to be forgotten.”

She let out an uneasy breath, white-knuckled the ledge. Her eyes still glowered darkly at you, but there was a softer, quieter edge to it. “How do you mean?”

Your body moved forward on your own volition, out of habit and not because you’d thought anything through. Most times, with Mary, you stopped thinking and let the energy edge through your veins instead. The pull made you hook your fingers into her belt loops and pull her against you. Mary didn’t resist. She melted against you instead, peered down with a petulant frown.

“Legacy is subjective, Mar.” you traced a finger against her jaw, so tender that she nuzzled against the inside of your wrist, the same routine that brought you to where you are now ghosted her breath against your pulse point. “The detective that’s after the Delta Demon will pass his hat to the next the second he retires, if you’re lucky. And the next.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? You worry so much about what people will remember of you. Of the mark you left behind when someone is right in front of you who would never dare forget.”

There was a tense silence between the both of you that seemed to drag on for a few seconds, or perhaps it was eternity. Her breath was hot on your lips. You could see the gold specks that pockmarked her iris’s, and it made you ache for the memory of the memory that was the sun.

A rushed knock at the door pulled the two of you apart, Mary’s discontented stare enough to burn a hole through the wood. You could hear the nervous heartbeat of the employee on the other side. She didn’t’ have to say anything for you to know that you’d spent much too long in here to be conspicuous.

But, then again, nothing about Mary ever was.

Time moved at an even pace when eternity was filled with routine. It had been easy enough to secure a job teaching night school, easier still to find a rhythm in teaching the basics to students who were searching for their GED’s, worn by the day and sleep mussed enough to listen without fail.

You leaned against the edge of the desk at the front of the small lecture hall, eyes languidly following along as one of the students read aloud through the dense paragraphs of the Grapes of Wrath.

Though you’d read John Stienbecks novel time and time again, and had assigned countless essays and subsequent tests to follow the content, you always found your mind drifting to the actual time in history. The sharp sting of dust in your eyes, and the heavy taste of dirt on your tongue. It had been easier to find a meal. Too easy, perhaps. The time pulled listlessly at your withering soul.

You’d glanced up when the door creaked open at the back of the room. It was silent, not stealing the focus of any of your students as one wrapped up a page and the other took over seamlessly, the timbre of their voice rusted with exhaustion and boredom.

She slipped into the seat at the very back, shrouded by a cloud of darkness. It was impossible for you not to clock everything in any room you stepped in. You were built like a predator, designed to hunt and kill and swallow people whole. Of course, Mary’s scent filled your lungs as easily, steeled them with longing all the same.

The rest of the class went by in a steady lull of reading, but you hardly paid attention. Not with dark eyes blinking at you behind shaded features. You swore you could catch the flash of something animalistic there, a flash of silver in her petit stare.

“Right, that’s enough for tonight.” You cleared your throat, prying yourself away from the desk and setting your worn copy down, the pages bent with love. “Make sure you come in on Thursday with chapter twenty read and analyzed. You know my office hours if you have any questions.”

You waved them off lazily, and they were more than ready to file out. Mary got a few stinted looks, but nothing of suspicion, nothing that weighed heavily on them the way that it rested on your own shoulders. Her mere presence, just three months after you’d fucked her against the door of the Monarch, was enough to root you in your place.

“Livin’ it wasn’t enough?” Her accent sounded out of place, but smooth and beautiful all the same. Mary stood, bundled in a coat thicker than you’d ever seen her in before. But, you supposed she was much out of her element. “You had to teach it too.”

“It’s in the curriculum. People never cease to be fascinated by suffering.”

The irony was not lost on you, and by the flat look in Mary’s eyes, you figured she picked up on the same thing you did. The way the two of you gravitated towards one another despite the agony you both endured.

Her proximity alone made your stomach hot, goosebumps rising on your skin. You hadn’t seen her since Sammie’s funeral, only two weeks before. It was nothing compared to the twenty years that passed prior, but somehow, the ache ran deeper and rougher than before.

“What are you doing here, Mar?”

You went to your desk and started straightening paper that didn’t need to be straightened. Filed them away in a bag that was made of leather that carried a certain old and oiled smell. She allowed the desk to be a buffer, pressed her perfectly manicured fingers against it and watched you carefully.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said.” She paused, swallowed whatever dryness was in her throat. “it’s easy to forget yourself when you’ve lived for as long as I have. The nights, they blend together into a numbness that… that I was fighting hard to break. And killing, killing gave me that rush.”

You peered up at her. This was the first ounce of honesty you’d gotten out of her in a long time. A rush of warmth that came with words like I love you, you’re all I’ve ever needed, we have eternity together. Something you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Something only your sire could provide. Mary stuttered a breath as if she felt it too.

“It was scary for you, wasn’t it?”

“Watching you spiral? Of course. You were the only love I had ever known, and you were slipping every day. What scared me more than anything is that I was ready to fall with you, Mary.” Your voice cracked, you covered it by clearing your throat, squeezing the bridge of your nose before meeting her steady stare, glossy with emotion. “I didn’t leave because I cared for you any less. I left because if I didn’t, we’d both be drenched in blood.”

Mary opened her mouth, closed it and opened it again before she thought better of it. The two of you stared at one another in an electrically charged heat. Even under the fluorescent lights of the classroom, she was stunning. A dangerous trap for you to fall directly into.

Finally, she spoke. “It woke me up, believing that I had disgusted you enough for you to leave. Stack had stayed, because Stack always stays but he wasn’t quiet about how much I’d fucked up by losin’ you. Pushing you away.”

She’d found your hand over the surface of the table, fingers a burst of comfort against your own. Out of reflex and desperation, you squeezed back, wanted to destroy the barrier that separated you, but held steady and strong.

“I knew you were too good for me the second I walked into your bar, and I still couldn’t stop myself. Even though I knew it was unfair to you, to pull you from the life you’d built for yourself. I needed to have you and then… shit, then I ruined it all and left you in my wake.”

You laughed sadly, pulling her hand up to your lips and laying a tender kiss to the base of her palm. “Believe it or not, Mary. My life does not hinder on your own. My happiness however, would improve greatly if I didn’t have to return home to an empty apartment and a dog that I think only tolerates me.”

“Are you asking me to stick around?”

“Maybe for a little while.” You gave her an easy smile. “If you’re up for it, that is.”

The smile that Mary wore was stunning. It bloomed across her features in a way that reminded you of spring rain, of what you remembered a day stretched on the lakeshore with the sun beating against your skin would feel like. Everything special you cherished from being human, and everything eternal you desired from being anything but.

Her lips were against your own, a tender kiss that was intimate in it’s delicacy. Her fingers traced your jaw, touching you as if you were glass. Fragile in the way that she’d made you. She tasted slightly of metal and citrus. But more than anything, she tasted of home.

#Mary Sinners #Mary Sinners x reader #Mary Sinners x female Reader #Sinners 2025 #Sinners movie #Sinners fanfiction #Sinners #hailee steinfeld #hailee steinfeld x reader

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empyrealoasis · 5 months ago

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Shifting 101: A Complete Beginner’s Guide🐚🫧

This guide will break down everything you need to know about shifting: what it is, how it works, the methods, the science behind it, and practical tips for success.

Scripts to use for beginners: World Building Guide Character Design Guide

What Is Shifting?

Shifting is the process of moving your consciousness to a different reality, whether it’s fictional, parallel, or entirely of your creation. It’s not your imagination—it’s about fully experiencing another reality.

Here's a summary of what it might feel like:

Physical Sensations

Vibrations or Tingling: Many report feeling their body vibrating or tingling, especially during the transition phase.

Weightlessness: A sensation of floating or being disconnected from the physical body.

Pressure Changes: Some describe feeling a "sinking" sensation, or a light pressure on their chest or body.

Warmth or Coolness: A shift in body temperature, often feeling either unusually warm or cool.

Mental and Emotional States

Calmness or Euphoria: A deep sense of peace, happiness, or excitement as they approach the desired reality.

Heightened Awareness: A sharper or more vivid sense of surroundings, even if they are imagined.

Detachment from the Current Reality: A feeling of being "pulled away" from where they currently are, mentally and emotionally.

Clarity: A sudden understanding or awareness of the desired reality, as if it's "right there."

During the Shift

Hypnagogic Imagery: Seeing flashes of light, shapes, or scenes from the desired reality as if in a vivid dream.

Auditory Changes: Hearing voices, sounds, or music associated with the desired reality.

Rapid Heartbeat: Some report their heart racing, which may be a mix of excitement and physiological response.

After the Shift

Being grounded in the Desired Reality: Feeling completely present and immersed in the new environment, often indistinguishable from waking life.

Memories: Retaining memories of the current reality but experiencing them as distant or unimportant compared to the new reality.

Familiarity: Even if the shifted reality is new, it may feel intuitively familiar, like returning to a place you've always known.

Why Do People Shift?

To live out their dream life or be in a fictional world.

Escape stress or explore alternate possibilities.

To experience new perspectives and adventures.

For self growth (mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually)

How Does Shifting Work?

Shifting focuses on aligning your consciousness with another reality. It may sound mystical, but scientific concepts can explain how it might work:

1. The Role of the Subconscious

Your subconscious mind doesn’t differentiate between imagination and reality—it processes everything you believe as truth. By visualizing and affirming your DR, you’re "rewriting" your mind to accept it as your "true" reality.

2. Brainwaves and Conscious States

Shifting works best when your brain is in certain states:

Alpha: Relaxed but awake, like when you daydream.

Theta: The in-between state of sleep and wakefulness—perfect for accessing your subconscious.

Delta: Deep sleep. Some people shift directly through their dreams.

3. The Quantum Perspective

The Many-Worlds Theory in quantum physics suggests infinite versions of reality exist. Shifting aligns your awareness with a different version of yourself, allowing you to live in that reality.

How to Shift: The Basics

1. Preparation

Create Your DR Script:

Where you’ll be.

Who you’ll meet.

Rules (e.g., “Time stops in my OR while I’m in my DR”).

Safe words (to return to your OR).

Set the Scene: Find a quiet, comfortable place where you won’t be disturbed.

2. Choose a Method

There are many methods to help guide your mind into the void or DR. Here are some popular ones:

The Raven Method: Lie in a starfish position, count to 100, and affirm things like, "I am in my DR." Visualize your DR as vividly as possible.

The Pillow Method: Write your script and place it under your pillow. Visualize your DR as you fall asleep.

The Void Method: Enter a deeply relaxed state, focus on the darkness behind your eyelids, and affirm that you’re in the void (a blank state of pure awareness where you can shift instantly).

3. Let Go and Trust the Process

The most important part of shifting is letting go of resistance. Don’t force the experience—relax and allow it to happen naturally.

Signs You’re Close to Shifting

You might experience these signs as you approach your DR:

Tingling sensations or vibrations.

Feeling weightless or heavy.

Hearing sounds from your DR.

Seeing flashes of light or imagery.

Common Challenges and Solutions

1. I Can’t Relax

Try meditating before starting or doing a body scan (mentally relaxing each part of your body).

2. I Overthink Too Much

Focus on affirmations or play calming music to distract your logical mind.

3. Nothing Happens

This is untrue as this is an assumption. However, it may take a few tries before you get the hang of it

The Science Behind Shifting

While shifting isn’t officially recognized by science, many related phenomena align with psychological and neurological concepts:

Hypnagogia and Hypnopompia: These are the states between wakefulness and sleep, where vivid imagery and sensations occur. They’re key moments for accessing your subconscious.

Lucid Dreaming: Like shifting, lucid dreaming involves awareness and control within a dream. Many people shift through lucid dreaming techniques.

Visualization and Neuroplasticity: Studies show that imagining something activates the same brain areas as doing it. With repetition, you "train" your brain to accept your DR as real.

The Placebo Effect: Your beliefs shape your experience. If you fully believe you’ve shifted, your brain will accept it as true. Can be achieved with the Law of Assumption.

Myths About Shifting

You Can Get Stuck: This is impossible. Your subconscious will always bring you back to your OR when needed.

It’s Dangerous: Shifting is as safe as sleeping or meditating. Unless you decide to shift to a Zombie Apocalypse then duhh.

You Need a Perfect Script/Concept: Having scripts and a good self-concept helps, but they’re not required. Your intention is enough.

Tips for Success

Stay consistent: Shifting gets easier with practice.

Believe in yourself: Doubts can create mental blocks.

Use reminders: Read your script daily to reinforce your DR.

Be patient: Everyone’s journey is different.

P.S. At the end of the day, all you need is yourself. Only you can make you shift. It is not necessary to have a script/method because it's you who's going to make it work. So, do what feels comfortable for you and what works for you. Don't let others tell you otherwise.

#empyrealoasis #shifting community #shiftblr #reality shifting #shifting #shifting consciousness #shifting blog #anti shifters dni #desired reality #4d reality #voidblr #void state #permashifting #respawning #pure consciousness #void

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cursedcatvibes · 1 year ago

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SWEET BELIEFS

re2r!zombie leon x survivor reader

word count: 7.2k

summary: Leon turns into a zombie and has to learn to navigate how to live as one, while doing this he comes across you and your group of survivors. What will he do when he eats your now dead boyfriend's brains and falls head over heels in love with you enough to make you become like him?

tags/warnings: 18+ only please. I don’t want any controversy, minors DNI. Smut, Angst? Fluff for a paragraph or two. Descriptions of blood and gore. This could technically be considered a bit of Necrophilia? Implied suicide. Pain kink, Leon kinda takes a few bites out of reader. Slight non-con. Mentions of breeding but it doesn’t happen. AFAB reader, I tried to keep it as gn as possible.

A/N: hii so like i am absolutely awkward when it comes to writing smut to be honest, like it’s a bunch of thoughts that have to go into positions and the dialogue. i’m still a little unsure how to work tumblr and i feel so old. I took very very heavy inspo from warm bodies, one of my personal favorite movies. (I pulled up the script and everything so if you've seen the movie and are like hey.. word for word, bar for bar, YOURE NOT WRONG)

Songs I listened to while writing (just so you can picture some scenes with what songs I was feeling):

Sweet Beliefs - Cyann and Ben

Yamaha - Delta Spirit

Midnight City -M83

Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen

happy reading!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Leon was a determined man; he could do mainly anything he set his mind to if he tried, and he did. He would do everything in his power possible to stop the spread of this virus, well, he tried anyway. He knew that he couldn’t do much to begin with, but he always had a small sliver of hope that he could. Stupidly he braved his way forward after the car exploded, promising Claire to meet at the police station. How naive. Is the two words he uses as he thinks back to that same day.

He held his Matilda gun in both hands as he made his way towards the front gate of the R.P.D. He grunted audibly as he shut the gate and then proceeded to lock it. He turned around to face the front of the building in partial awe, a bitter expression souring his face. This is where he was meant to work, to protect and serve the people and yet he never got a chance to properly even start to accomplish that task.

With a heavy sigh Leon stepped into the building and looked around the main lobby, taking note of the shudder to his right that had a large warning with blood splattered on the floor, he grimaced and walked up to the small computer on the front desk, watching the cameras to see some guy flailing around a small notebook with the promise of a way out inside of it.

Leon typed away on the computer to find out which room the guy was in and felt his heart sink a bit when he realized it was being blocked off by that same shudder he had saw earlier which was definitely not ideal but if he wanted to help get a cure he had to first escape with as many survivors as possible, so he inhaled sharply and opened the shudder by a lever with shaky hands, his grip on his gun tightening.

The shudder only opened enough for him to crawl under, so he pulled his flashlight out and crawled under while shining the light around, biting his bottom lip anxiously as he stood up from the floor and made his way to the room where the guy was, which unfortunately was behind another shudder.

Leon holstered his gun quickly and manually forced the shudder open enough to pull the other officer out from, but unfortunately he was too late because the zombies had caught up to the guy on the other side and all the pulling from both ends along with the pressure of the shudder on the guys pelvic area ended up splitting him into two, leaving Leon with the upper half and the zombie with the delicious bottom half.

He immediately felt sick, just staring at the blood and organs leaking out from the guy's poor body. Yet he forced himself to look away once he grabbed the small notebook from the guy's dead hand. He gasped softly when he saw that he needed to collect three medallions from different statutes and put them into the main statue in the lobby to unlock a secret path.

Leon quickly pocketed the notebook and stood up, silently disappointed in himself for not saving the guy and making a quiet promise he would find a cure and try to save everyone else. He turned towards the door he entered, only for the door to swing open and a zombie to come barreling through, without hesitation Leon shot the zombie in the head and darted off, his main goal? Get back to the damn shudder that led him to this damn area in the first place.

As he ran, he bumped into two zombies, he panicked and shot one in the head and kicked the other one in the stomach to stagger back enough to fall on the floor. Leon heard a window break and started running towards the shudder, he could see the main lobby light peeking out from beneath the small sliver.

He got down on his hands and knees and started to force the shudder open, fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins. Yet he couldn’t get it open much with just his hands so he pushed his upper body through it and placed his palms flat on the floor, forcing it open enough with his back, almost crying with relief as he crawled through.

That relief was short lived as his leg was grabbed from the earlier zombie and before Leon could try and either shoot it or attempt to squirm away he felt this horrible pain shoot through his leg. A loud scream erupting from his lungs, he scrambled for his gun and shot the zombie, standing up quickly to force the shudder shut. He whimpered in pain as he limped over to the medical beds in the main lobby.

He could see the blood seeping through his pant leg and when he rolled the fabric up, he almost vomited at the sight of his flesh missing. Apparently while he was crawling and squirming it caused his pant leg to bunch up a bit to expose skin and a bit of his pants fabric was missing from where he was bit. All the hopes of saving everyone and being the help people needed went down the drain. He’d seen enough zombie movies to know he was going to turn within a few hours and this whole thing was pointless and stupid.

He glanced down at his gun, breathing heavily as he brought it up to his temple. “I won’t become those... Things.” He whispered to no one but himself, tears welling up in his eyes, but he was too chicken shit to kill himself. He burst out into tears and laid back onto the bed, sniffling softly to himself. He failed. For the first time in his life, he failed to protect someone.

That was the last thing he remembered as a human as his eyes got droopy, fluttering shut every once in a while, before finally shutting, taking his last breath.

When he awoke, he gasped as he rose up, clenching his hand over his heart, taking no note of the fact his heart was no longer beating anymore. He glanced down at his hands and saw they were paler than usual, he figured it must’ve been a nightmare or maybe he was immune. Otherwise, how did he survive a whole zombie bite?

He got off the bed and grabbed his gun once more he was able to find a sharp object to use to pry open a door, he carefully stalked through the West Office, pulling his lips into a thin line as he tried to be as quiet as possible but when he stepped onto an empty plastic bottle his head shot up towards the two zombies in the room that roused up from their sleep. Leon fumbled for his gun getting ready to shoot because he was not about to be bitten or eaten alive, only for the zombie sleeping at the police desk to shush him. “Sleeping... Shush.” The zombie grumbled tiredly before going back to sleep.

Leon’s jaw dropped in awe, why hadn’t they attacked? Why could he understand them now?! All the scenarios ran through his head at once and he could only land on one possible one. With a panicked look on his face, he rushed out and sprinted up to the second-floor bathroom, the zombies lingering in the hallway ignoring him, grunting and groaning out broken English to each other.

He threw the bathroom door open and walked towards the mirror, finally looking at himself. It finally made sense to him now. It only took one look at himself to clearly see that he too was now a zombie, a hideous creature like the rest of them. Yet he didn’t look busted and beaten up, all his facial features were still intact and none of his skin started rotting, although some joints of his were stiff, assuming the rigor mortis set in for him if he were to be an actual dead corpse, but he wasn't.

His reality came crashing down on himself and he couldn’t even cry, dead things don’t have emotions anymore.

Upon watching the news for a few days, months, years? He wasn’t sure anymore, everyday blended into one and after a while he stopped caring, he was dead now. He made a few zombie friends, those…people? Helped him adjust to the new life he was forced into fairly quickly. Almost like a family, every zombie was family, it didn't matter if you weren’t related or what you looked like, if you were a walking corpse you qualified as family.

But if you were human, you were considered bad, an enemy, a meal. He learned that humans managed to build a wall to keep zombies out while they tried to start civilization anew, hoping to repopulate. Though some rebellious teens often snuck out beyond the walls and became a meal or turned into a zombie, or people ransacked through old buildings in hopes of coming across supplies, fortunately for zombies they could sense humans by smell from miles away, just most were lazy and didn’t want to die a whole second time for a worthless meal, unless the humans were in groups.

Just like your group.

Out ransacking a place for medicine for some members of your community that fell ill and just extra medicine just in general. Leon was rather hungry as he walked with his usual horde of zombies towards the building you and your friends were in. He was quite happy because it smelled delicious. (Having grown accustomed to eating humans at this point.)

It didn’t take long for the horde to break down the door to the room you were in before they started attacking, gun fire ringing through the air, yet if it wasn’t a headshot, it didn’t matter much. Leon made eye contact with you when a zombie in front of him got shot in the head. Once he locked his eyes with you, he was smitten, he hadn’t felt like this since the day he arrived in the city. He felt… determined. He was absolutely fascinated with you enough to spare your life from being taken by him, he watched your beautiful eyes widen before sliding away behind a counter to hide.

The moment was short lived as some annoying guy shot him, Leon growled and pounced on the guy, ripping him to shreds within seconds, eating the yummy brains he got through hard work, blood all over his mouth, hands, and clothes. As he chewed on some of the guys' brains, he indulged in the memories he got from them, for some reason if you consumed the brains of a human you get to see, experience, and feel all their past memories stored in that part of the brain.

Yet as he silently ate the brain’s he started seeing you in this guys’ memories, your sweet laugh, the soft and tender kisses between you both, even when you guys had sex. Leon’s eyes snapped open at the last part, gasping softly at the stirring in his loins. It wasn’t strong, no. But it was very faint, and for a moment he felt human again.

It didn’t take a miracle for Leon to figure out he ate your boyfriend, he gulped down the brains in his mouth and pocketed the rest, all while chaos ensued around him, people dying, gunfire, stabbing, crying, shouting. None of it mattered. He could feel the amount of love your boyfriend had for your coursing through his veins as he crawled over to you.

He saw the look of horror on your face as he spotted you, slowly crawling over to you because your gun had jammed, and you ran out of stuff to defend yourself with. He sat right in front of you and watched as you leaned back with a scared and disgusted look on your face. He frowned slightly and leaned closer, placing his bloodied hand on your cheek, making sure to smear you in your now dead boyfriend's blood.

In a hoarse and cracked voice Leon then spoke up. “S-Safe... Now.” He stuttered out, it had been a while since he had to use that word that he almost forgot it. He wanted to keep you safe, he now claimed you. It didn’t take long for the other zombies to grab the brains and other pieces of human body parts before they got ready to leave, sniffing around to make sure they couldn’t smell any more alive humans.

He carefully took your hand and placed his bloodied finger over your lips. “Shh... Come.” He muttered softly, it hit him that he hadn’t spoken in full sentences or English in a while now, zombies understood each other by just grunting or groaning, they did speak in broken English sometimes.

“What?” You whispered in confusion as he helped you up and walked you alongside the pack of zombies. He held onto you tightly with an expressionless face, guiding you along with the group all the way back to the police station, very determined to keep you as his own. He took you to a small space that no one really lingered at. Luckily, he had claimed this space, so no other zombies dared to go back there out of respect for when Leon wanted to be alone. The other zombies didn’t suspect you either, to them; if you smelled like you belonged then they thought you were one of them, plus they’re brainless idiots too, who is gonna know the difference if they don’t have the intelligence to figure it out.

Leon stared at you with uncertainty in his eyes, wondering if it was really the best idea to bring you back here of all places. What he did know was that he was super happy to even have a human in his vicinity, even if well you did attempt to kill him.

“This is... home...” Leon said softly, crouching down in front of you on the floor, trying to figure out how to explain he wasn't going to eat you. He pointed at you and then himself, chomping his teeth a few times. Cringing internally when you looked even more horrified, so he repeated the motion once more. “Not... eat.” He mouthed quietly with a soft expression in his eyes.

“Keep you safe.” He stated firmly, his eyes darting away from your gaze awkwardly. He got up and searched the room for some canned goods he had stored away when he first turned into a zombie. Eating humans disgusted him and he really didn’t wanna try to figure it out, so he tried to eat normal food, but that was never no use. He always spat it out with a disgusted look on his face, it tasted horrible.

He found a large can of fruits, smiling happily as he brought it over to you with a knife. You shakily took both items from his hands, being extremely cautious around him still because you were still unsure. Plus, it’s not like he looked like a model, you were sure that if he wasn’t covered in blood and didn’t have a few pieces of his cheek missing he would be close to a model.

He was cute in a sense, like a dog almost. But you didn’t trust him, not yet at least. Zombies were the things you were warned about. With a reluctant sigh you stabbed the knife into the top of the can and ended up prying it open. You glanced up at him as you used your fingers as a spoon, catching his eyes dart away nervously.

You pulled your lips into a thin line before letting out a small chuckle. “I guess you’re not all that bad, Mr. Zombie.” You snorted, watching Leon sit down in front of you. He scratched gently under his chin, a habit he never grew out of even when he was undead. He also learned that if he scratched too hard then his skin would fall off.

Which is why it looks like a cat scratched the side of his cheek; it would’ve been a cool scar if it healed. But he was dead... So, nothing could scar... Or heal.

“My name...” He murmured, trying to think back on what his name actually was. It had been so long since he actually heard his name or even said his name that he forgot what it was. You on the other hand perked up a little bit. “You have a name?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter. He nodded and tried to think back on it. “L...” He elongated the first letter of his name because that’s the only thing that came to what little mind he had left.

“Leonard? Lachlan? Landon? Leroy? Lawrence?” You started listing off different names that started with an L that came to mind, hoping one would stick but he just kind of shook his head before blinking a few times. “Familiar.” He narrowed his eyes before shaking his head, he almost had it but just as soon as he thought he did he lost his train of thought.

You sighed and ran your clean-Ish hand through your hair, eyes roaming over his body before you saw what looked to be an imprint of a wallet in his pocket. Your eyes widened slightly, and Leon noticed your gaze at his pants. He got excited for a moment, thinking you were checking him out or trying to look at his dick. He would gladly show you if you wanted!

He watched with excitement as you moved your hand out to his crotch area, he wasn’t sure if he was prepared! What if you didn’t like what you saw? Could he even have sex? So many questions racked his brain, each making him more excited than the last. Until... Your hand swerved to the left of his pants, aiming for his pocket as you tapped the stiff object. His face dropped in disappointment, but what was he thinking? Why would you even want to think about such an ugly hideous monster in such an intimate way? “Can I?” You nudged your head towards his pocket, and he nodded in slight defeat.

You took out the wallet and flipped it open, looking at his ID. If you thought he was partially cute before, he was definitely cute now. You had to hide the blush that was threatening to sprout on your cheeks, quickly shaking it off. You redirected your attention where it was supposed to be aimed at. His name.

“Huh. Leon Scott Kennedy.” You murmured aloud, watching Leon perk up with excitement as his name came back to his brain. “Yes! My name...Leon!” He pointed at himself happily again. He nodded and gently took the wallet from your hands.

His eyes settled on the ID photo, and he felt a small wave of sadness wash over him, it wasn’t even his fault he turned but he supposed he turned in the least painful way possible, the most unscathed too. Some people had their limbs pulled off their body and some people had been halfway eaten alive because the damn zombie wanted their organs and not the brain.

Yet he felt this was the closest he had come to crying ever since he turned into a zombie. He had tried everything he could do in his power to cry, and none of it worked at all. It mostly just damped his mood.

But even now he could not get that tear he so desperately wanted to fall from his eye. He shut his wallet and stuffed it into his pants pocket again, looking away from you awkwardly. He was going to say something until he watched you look out the window with your own longing look.

He wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how, plus he definitely didn’t want to be called or considered creepy. So, he turned around and pulled out some of the stashed away brains in his jacket pocket, he popped a big piece into his mouth like it was gum. He was able to divulge in a few new memories that your boyfriend had.

His eyebrows scrunched up as he could see your dad happily welcoming your boyfriend into the family, having a serious conversation while also celebrating your dead mom's anniversary. Then the memory faded out until he came back to reality because you had started talking to him.

“I want to go home, Leon.” You stated firmly, your gaze still peering out the window for a bit longer before turning around to stare at him. “It’s n-not safe...” He warned you once more that going outside was not a good idea at all and you were stubborn and set on leaving.

You sighed rather heavily and rubbed your face as you tried to figure how to explain it to him because he was quite literally not the brightest tool in the shed, and it wasn’t even on purpose either. “I get that.” You paused before continuing. “And look… I know that you ‘saved’ my life. And I'm grateful for that. But you walked me into this place. So, I know that you can walk me out again.” You narrowed your eyes at him as you waited for his response, you had a solid argument through and through. Leon knew that but didn’t want to let you go.

His poor brain scrambled for an answer, he didn’t wanna lose you. “H…h… have to wait. They… They’ll notice.” He blurted out as best as he could manage. You weren’t the happiest person on the planet with that answer, but it was better than staying with him permanently.

“How long?” You questioned, sitting down in front of him as he kept his eyes trained on you. “F.. f.. few days. Th.. they’ll forget. You’ll be o-kay.” Leon tried to reassure you and he sounded quite serious about this.

You nodded with a firm tight-lipped expression. “Fine. A few days it is then.” You responded quite tiredly. Leon was a bit eager that you bought into his lie, why wouldn’t you? No one else could sway you to believe otherwise since he was a zombie and you believed he knew everything about every zombie in this post-apocalyptic world.

The next few days consisted of the both of you doing fun things to relieve your boredom, he showed you his fun little trinkets and items he collected during his time as a zombie just so he could feel a little human again and you in turn showed him the fun things humans still did that he forgot about.

But all good things must come to an end when he got distracted roaming around outside the safe place, he took you to find some more food and perhaps a better blanket, it was a big police station, something had to be there. But when he arrived back a while later with the objects, he was shocked to find you missing when he deliberately only went out while you were napping or sleeping so he didn’t have to stress about you running away.

He pursed his lips into a pout before he heard you scream, he immediately dropped the stuff in his hands and rushed off towards the direction of the scream, finding you surrounded by zombies. He panicked and grabbed a fire extinguisher, whacking the other zombies in the head in order to protect you while you stepped out the way to avoid being attacked or injured in some way possible.

When he was sure he killed the other zombies, he dropped the fire extinguisher and huffed softly, wiping the blood away from his face and hands onto his already bloody clothes. Leon snapped his head up towards your direction with a frown on his face. “You said a few days. It's been a few days, Leon.” You demanded answers, you were feeling restless after all. “I have to go home; I have a family. A family that's on the other side of that giant wall that keeps creatures like you out of it.” You tried your best to explain it to him, but he didn’t want to hear the nonsense. He wanted you.

He took your hand in his own cold and stiff one, tilting his head at you fondly. “S... stay t-together.” He smiled as best as he could manage while guiding you to the parking garage. “We leave.” He tapped his wallet again and then took you over to a hoodless red car that had the keys still in the ignition.

Leon wanted to drive but he wasn’t very sure in his abilities and as if you read his mind you spoke up. “I'll drive.” You exclaimed cheerfully, hopping into the driver’s seat while he got into the passengers. He took the parking garage keycard out from his wallet that he often used to go out and explore carefree and handed it to you, which you gladly accepted.

It had been a few hours since you and Leon left the police station, a clear destination in mind for you. That same wall you referenced earlier. You could’ve gotten there before midnight, but it had started raining and the heater in the car crapped out. “Dammit it, I’m freezing...” You grumbled in slight frustration, but Leon wasn’t cold at all. Corpses don’t get cold, which is an added bonus sometimes.

You glanced around and realized you were in a neighborhood close to home, well not super close but close enough to finish driving the rest of the way there.

“Full disclosure, I am exhausted beyond, and I want to warm up before I catch hypothermia. I’m not a corpse you know.” You teased, smiling a bit as you informed Leon of what was about to happen. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up.

You were still a little uneasy around him, but he was growing on you. You pulled over into a random driveway and hopped out the car, shivering as the cold wind paired with the rain blew harshly against your skin. Leon followed right behind you, albeit a bit slow but he still followed along.

As you approached the door you silently hoped it was unlocked, because who the hell would lock their door after being evacuated in a zombie apocalypse?

Unfortunately, it was locked, and you seriously considered busting the door down, you took a step back but stayed beneath the awning of the front porch, rubbing your hands up and down your upper arms to warm yourself while searching for a window that wasn’t boarded up to break into.

Leon on the other hand was confused why you didn’t just open the door considering he got there a little after you did. “What's... wrong?” He questioned, staring at you with his usual cute look of curiosity.

Your eyes darted back towards his own and you purse your lips tightly as you explained that the door was locked. “It’s locked, I can’t get in it and I’m searching for a window-” Before you could even finish your sentence Leon slammed into the front door and it swung open. You were stunned. Could he always do that? If so, why hadn’t zombies come in bigger hordes to storm the wall keeping the rest of humanity alive.

Leon turned towards you when he opened (broke) the door for the two of you, but mainly you. It’s like he was expecting some praise for helping you out. He was a good zombie after all!

With a small smile on your face, you patted his head. “Thanks Lee.” You crooned, the nickname easily slipping past your lips as both of you sauntered inside the house while Leon closed the door behind the both of you once inside.

You desperately rubbed your hands together for a shred of warmth, Leon took note of this and frowned. He wanted to help you warm up but how? His brain (what was left due to deterioration) searched for an answer and came up with one possibility but didn’t know if you were going to want to do that. After all, he was let down earlier with the whole wallet situation.

“Let’s go upstairs, I’m dying to get out of these clothes and under a blanket.” You emphasized your point by tugging on your soaked shirt. Leon being Leon let his eyes roam over your body, admiring the way it clung to your skin before noticing you were walking away towards the stairs. “O-Okay.” He murmured, tailing after you like a puppy.

Once you reached upstairs you asked Leon to make sure no other zombies were in any of the rooms, you survived this far. No way in hell were you going to die in such a pathetic way. It's the first rule of the apocalypse, be cautious and also know your route to escape if you do encounter a zombie. You can thank Zombieland for that warning, it did amuse you in some odd way.

Watching some guy who was surviving a zombie apocalypse thinking it would never happen but never say never. It felt like some sick joke that sometimes didn’t feel real until you encountered a zombie, then it felt a little too real.

Speaking of zombies, here comes the cutie who waddled back with a shake of his head. “No zombie!” He exclaimed, pointing to a room at the end of the hall. "Bed.” He said simply, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you inside the room. You didn’t protest it at all, hell you would sleep on a rooftop if it provided you with good enough shelter along with a decent bed at this rate.

After a quick check of the mattress to discover it hadn’t rotted much, and a bedsheet was over it so it added a decent layer of protection as well, you sat on the edge of the bed while Leon sat on the floor like usual, wanting to make sure you were comfortable.

“I’m gonna get undressed. Don’t look.” You ordered firmly, hoping he would understand. You smiled when he nodded and turned your back to him while he turned his head away long enough for you to see he did before he turned right back towards you.

Leon wasn’t an idiot; he knew very well what he was doing. He was once human too after all, plus he would feel stupid if he let this rare moment slip away from his grasp, it had been too long since he saw actual decent tits and ass, most of the other zombies who were women were all rotting and very unappealing to him. He’s sure you would look so beautiful if you looked like him.

You on the other hand were completely oblivious to Leon’s plan or the fact he was ogling you like you were his next most delicious meal, and in a way... You kind of were.

Nonetheless you stripped down to just a bra and panties before curling back into the bed and under the blanket, shivering quietly while hugging your legs for warmth still. It was so silent between the both of you. So silent you could hear your teeth chattering echo throughout the room.

Leon sat on the floor awkwardly, wondering what to do with his newfound feelings. You never banished him from the bed, nor were you shying away from him when he touched you recently. Maybe this time he could get what he wanted from you, right? He would have to eventually.

A very confident Leon rose up from the floor, you watching with furrowed brows in confusion. Was he going to leave the room? But to your surprise he curled up in bed with you, his cold dead hands sliding around your waist to cuddle you from behind, you instantly stiffened up from multiple things, the fact he was cold, and his hands were resting on your belly and the fact he was so close to you like this. But after a few moments you relaxed and leaned back into his touch.

Leon felt like he was over the moon when you reacted positively at his touch, he could smell your scent, your musk and if he had a consistent blood flow, he was sure it would’ve all rushed down to his penis. Luckily for him he could make his body stiffen up in places or even all over in general. Lord knows how many times he escaped second death by doing this neat party trick when humans tried killing the groups of zombies he was in. He never left unscathed though and caught a bullet in his shoulder once. But it never bothered him because he didn’t feel it. It did piss him off though.

He was so tempted to take a small bite of your sweet supple flesh; he had been suppressing his desires for so long now it was becoming unbearable. “Such a temptress...” He thought to himself, rubbing his hand up and down your waist gently, easing you up to his touch in small doses.

You were feeling pretty sleepy but a part of you was getting a little turned on, you hadn’t had sex in a while even while your boyfriend was alive so any touch from a male was enough to set you off, even if unfortunately, that male was a zombie. But it was different somehow, he was gentle. Plus, he was cute so that definitely didn’t hurt either.

You guess the only plus of the whole situation was the fact Leon wasn’t breathing super loud in your ear like a fat pig. That’s what your now dead ex(?) boyfriend did, and it was a major turn off because it sounded like he was dying every time he was moaning or even came.

Not a word was spoken between the two of you as Leon’s hand drifted lower to cup your inner thigh, the two of you looking down at his hand on your body. He whimpered softly at the warmth between your thighs. “M-May I?” He pleaded; he can’t remember the last time he was this nervous. Oh wait, yes he can. The first time he met you and a few hours earlier when you pulled that little stunt of disappearing on him. He thought he lost you forever.

Not this time.

Not ever again.

You gulped quietly and looked over your shoulder at him nodding slightly, breathing out a soft yes.

Leon was happy, he felt a warmth within himself in his chest area, well maybe if he had a beating heart it would feel way better, but he can’t get greedy now. Not after he worked this hard to get to this moment.

It had been a while since he had sex, things with his ex-girlfriend weren’t so great before he came to Raccoon city. He silently apologized if he was a bit rusty. Though as soon as his hand slipped beneath your panties, and he heard your soft gasp when his fingertip brushed against your clit it's like all his knowledge on how to please a woman came back to him.

He tightened his grip on your waist with one hand while the other dipped down to collect the slick leaking from your hole, using it as lubricant to swipe at your clit as best as he could, hoping to pleasure you. He figured he was doing a good job when you pressed your face into the pillow to muffle a moan.

That wouldn’t do at all!

Leon removed his hands from you and sat up, pouting a bit as his ego inflated from the soft whine of confusion left you. “I wanna..” He paused and looked down into your eyes. “So pretty...” He thought to himself.

“Sound.” He pointed at your mouth; it took a second for it to click but once it did you nodded. “Right, yes. Sorry.” You blushed at his comment, for a zombie he seemed sure of exactly what he wanted. Even if he wasn’t good at it verbally.

Leon smiled and climbed on top of you, running his knuckle against your cheekbone with a delighted expression. You nuzzled against the gesture, a small part of you was calling yourself a freak for even enjoying this and the bigger part was you telling that other part to shut the fuck up.

Your hands came up to cup his face, being mindful of the piece of flesh missing from his cheek, he appreciated the gesture, but he couldn’t care less if you touched the wound. He rested his weight on his forearms to grind his cock against the wet spot on the gusset of your panties. A soft moan left your lips and if you weren’t so scared of getting bit you would’ve kissed him, but you didn’t want to tease him and him end up biting you.

You were so eager and desperate though that you yourself disregarded foreplay because you were definitely wet enough. You helped Leon strip down to nothing, admiring his toned body, ghosting your fingertip over the bullet wound too. He was embarrassed and shied away from your wandering eyes.

“You’re so handsome, Leon.” You confessed, watching his eyes go wide with his head snapping back towards you with a hint of vulnerability beneath them. “Really?” He tilted his head at you while you discarded your bra and panties somewhere in the room.

When you met his eyes, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, nodding while dragging your fingers through his soft but slightly matted hair, trying to ignore the fact you might’ve tugged a bit too hard that some strands actually fell out. It was just another reminder that you were literally about to have sex with a whole zombie.

Leon cleared his throat as best as he could while positioning himself between your legs to rub his cockhead between your folds. Low moans escaped both of you before he slowly pushed himself past the tight muscle that relaxed with ease. Leon swore he was in heaven, that he died for a second time and that heaven was you.

So warm and wet. Is literally all he could think of.

You on the other hand couldn’t get over how good it was, but that lingering guilt still bubbled at the back of your mind. You shoved those thoughts down and wrapped your arms behind his neck tugging him closer towards your body.

Slowly he started to thrust into you, he tried to be gentle, but each thrust was hard and rough. Punched out gasps and moans filling the room each time his hips met yours. “D-Do you like...?” He asked quietly, burying his face into your neck, holding his desire to bite you at bay. He had to remind himself it wasn’t a good moment. But seeing your bouncing tits and flesh so close to his face was his breaking point.

“Y-yes... I love it–AHH!” You screamed at the end of your remark, feeling tears well up in your eyes at the pain of being bit.

Leon cursed himself for doing it, but he could only hold his primal desires at bay for so long. “What the fuck did you do! G-Get off of me!” You shrieked, trying to fight away from his grasp but he was much stronger than you. Immediately pinning your wrists down to the mattress with one hand, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.

“I'm s-sorry!” He apologized profusely but his hips never slowed down. “Accident...” He whimpered coyly as you kept struggling.

You felt like an idiot, who in their right mind would trust a zombie after all? You. You did and now you were reaping the consequences.

As much as you hated to admit it, the blood loss and the blood around Leon’s mouth was making you dizzy with pleasure. It didn’t take long for your struggling to cease; you knew you would ‘die’ from blood loss but the adrenaline in your body was fighting while blood gushed out from the bite on your neck.

Leon let go of your wrists shakily to test if you would harm him but when you didn’t and you just laid there looking up at him with a hazy look in your eyes, he felt like he was on top of the world. In one swift movement he put your ankles over his shoulders, putting you into a mating press damn near with how feral he was fucking you.

The lewd squelching sound of your pussy was enough to send him over the edge, but he can’t cum, he lost that ability the day he died. He was upset he didn’t meet you earlier, he’s so sure that you would look so perfect with his child in your belly.

“You’re going to be just like me...” Leon hummed, concern brewing in your belly when he started getting easier to understand. Was this really it? You weakly protested against the idea when his thumb pressed against your clit to get you to have one final orgasm.

He tilted his head to the side to lick up your calf all the way up to your ankle, suckling on the area he wanted to bite. Without much thought he sank his teeth in your leg, right where he was bit. What was more romantic than having matching bite marks?

You jolted from the pain mixed with pleasure, weakly crying out Leon’s name. “L-Leon... Stop it...” You pawed at his back as your back arched off the bed, feeling the life slowly draining out your body the faster your heart pumped out blood from such a stimulating touch, your body temperature lowering to almost eerily match his own.

He could feel your gummy walls squeezing the non-existent life out his cock and he threw his head back in pleasure, groaning loudly as he doubled down on his efforts, he could tell you were close.

He wasn’t wrong though, you were so close to reaching your sweet release, the bedsheet and mattress soaked with your bodily fluids. Blood and your arousal forever staining the sheets. “P-Please my Goddess...” He squeaked out, leaning down to lick at your neck, lapping up the blood oozing out.

Your body was getting weaker and weaker, eyes fluttering shut longer than they were open as you slowly died beneath him, yet right before you took your last final breaths as a human you came violently around his cock, feeling utterly spent and satisfied as you drifted into an unconscious state.

Leon sat up straight, staring down at your lifeless body with a small amount of concern. He had never turned someone into a zombie before, so he wasn’t sure if he actually killed you or not. He pulled his cock out of your hole, admiring the creamy white ring around the base of it.

He ran his fingertips over the bite mark on your leg, sighing in content, his eyes drifting up your body to admire your glistening folds. He glanced around nervously before leaning down to lap at your cunt, moaning softly at the taste. "Gosh..." He could definitely eat you up.

He whimpered in frustration when you didn't stir awake after a few hours (minutes), placing small kisses on your belly with a pout, wrapping his arms around your waist while he laid on top of you, covering your naked bodies with the blanket.

He kept your hand outside the blanket, staring intensely at it.

“Please move. Please move.” He thought anxiously, finally after what felt like eternity, he saw your fingers twitch and he felt relieved. He smiled fondly at the sight, kissing your sternum with a dopey grin.

You were going to be with him for eternity. <3

#leon kennedy #resident evil #re2 leon #leon kennedy fanfic #zombie!leon #smut #dead dove do not eat #tw sui implied #character death #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x you #writing ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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the-most-humble-blog · 4 days ago

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<div style="white-space:pre-wrap"> <meta hobbit-aggression="underestimated"> <script> ARCHIVE_TAG="HOBBIT_WAR_PROTOCOL::OPERATION_FOURTH_BREAKFAST" EFFECT: size-based myth realignment, small-man combat reverence, fantasy fandom inversion TRIGGER_WARNING="dark humor, Tolkien disrespect correction, mythic supremacy, micro warrior worship" </script>

🛐 SHOUT OUT TO THE HOBBITS, YO

Definitive Edition (You asked for it. You got it.)

===

You think Hobbits were just cute?

Just background filler?

Just middle-earthy comic relief?

No.

Hobbits were the unsanctioned, untraceable, unkillable black-ops death units of Middle Earth. They didn’t flex. They didn’t brag. They didn’t even need boots.

They just showed up where legends got slaughtered and survived anyway.

🧠 Let’s Be Blunt:

If these dudes got sent after you? It wouldn’t matter if you were hiding in Putin’s panic room, in the secret compartment behind the third bookshelf, wearing a Kevlar onesie, praying to whatever gods you had left—

They would still find your stupid body draped over the tub like a jackass.

🩸 HOW I KNOW?

They ripped the most expensive piece of jewelry straight off a literal immortal super-zombie (Gollum) —who, mind you— was spitting some of the coldest nihilistic bars in literary history off the dome, in the dark, while dying of radiation poisoning, and still trying to kill them anyway.

🔥 Plus:

They bodied haters at every turn.

They carried the seduction equivalent of Satan’s engagement ring around their necks without folding.

Never wore shoes — because soft ground and sharp rocks weren’t real enough threats to register.

Didn’t even want your girl — because they had a real one waiting back home, making second breakfasts and setting tables for men who don’t break under temptation.

🛡️ And just for bonus brutality?

They didn't just topple armies. They didn’t just smoke an earthbound demon and his cultists.

They made it back in time for fourth breakfast.

🍞 But Let’s Go Deeper:

They weren’t warriors by trade.

No legendary bloodlines. No superpowers. No prophecy padding.

They were amateur gardeners with anxiety disorders.

And they still walked into Mordor.

Barefoot.

With backpacks full of bread and trauma.

No GPS. No backup. No support.

Just vibes. And a suicidal belief in goodness.

Let that sink in.

🧠 Here’s the Hardest Bar Nobody Talks About:

The literal President of Earth (Aragorn — son of Arathorn, King of Men, crown-wearer, sword-lord) the biggest swinging dick in all of human history did not puff his chest at them. Did not treat them like subjects. Did not treat them like side characters.

He kneeled.

He fucking trembled, knelt, and demanded that anyone who even thought about disrespecting them drop to their knees in submission and shame. Right there. In front of the goddamn world.

🩸 TL;DR

Hobbits were quiet Apex Predators.

Hobbits were Super-Delta-Navy-SEAL-Green-Berets of spiritual warfare.

Hobbits weren’t just survivors.

Hobbits were the grim reapers of the impossible.

And they did it:

With no boots.

With no ego.

With no TikTok motivational speeches.

While still making it home in time for fourth fucking breakfast.

🍄 But There’s More:

You thought Frodo cracked?

No.

That man was psychically tortured by the Eye of a 9000-year-old ghost fascist every night for months.

He still walked through volcanic hell for you.

He still held that ring like a live grenade and said:

"I'll take it, though I do not know the way."

🧠 THAT'S A BAR.

That’s a man.

Meanwhile, you get anxious about group chats.

You'd fold at a DMV appointment.

They climbed Mount Doom on a diet of lembas and hallucinations, while you cancel plans if your Uber takes more than 5 minutes.

🚫 Let’s talk Sam:

Samwise Gamgee, the only man in literary canon who:

Cooked, cleaned, and carried emotional weight for a broken billionaire heir

Fought spiders the size of SUVs

Got zero credit

Still kept showing up

And when Frodo collapsed?

He didn’t say “I can’t.”

He said:

“I can’t carry it for you… but I can carry you.”

💀 That line has ended bloodlines. That line has fertilized ovaries. That line got Elrond’s daughter wet in the next realm.

👑 LEGEND BEHAVIOR.

🌋 They walked straight into the devil’s bedroom, rang the doorbell, and spat in his eye socket.

And when it was over?

They didn’t ask for medals.

They didn’t make a podcast.

They didn’t sell rings on Etsy.

They went the fuck home.

🌾 Planted potatoes.

🧺 Married their sweethearts.

🥘 Took care of their village.

And that, my friends, is a level of masculinity the internet can’t even simulate.

Because it wasn’t performative.

It wasn’t flashy.

It was real.

🧠 And Let’s Be Honest:

If Frodo and Sam had Instagram, they would’ve posted ONE photo of the Shire and vanished.

No thirst traps.

No trauma threads.

Just vibes, green hills, and the unspoken flex of having SAVED. THE. WORLD.

💣 Meanwhile…

Legolas got highlights.

Aragorn needed therapy.

Boromir went full cokehead.

Gimli never moisturized.

Gandalf ghosted everyone post-victory.

And yet the Hobbits?

Kept the receipts. Held the line.

Taught their kids songs about Mordor and still smiled.

🥂 Raise your glass again.

To the mythic midgets of mayhem.

To the barefoot barbarians.

To the spiritually bulletproof men who walked into hell, barefoot, and walked out legends.

🛐 SHOUT OUT TO THE HOBBITS, YO.

🧠 Read more scrolltrap war poetry, cadence-based fandom corrections, and Blacksite Hobbit Doctrine at: 👉 https://linktr.ee/ObeyMyCadence 🛡️ Literary warfare. Platform correction. Mythic survival psychology. 🚪 Warning: This post causes fandom disillusionment, Tolkien re-reading, and spiritual side effects.

📊 SCROLLTRAP COMBAT STATS 📊

Shoes worn by Frodo: 0

Rings resisted: 1

Overlords dethroned: several

Times Sam gave up: never

Times Aragorn bowed: once

Breakfasts per day: minimum 4

Podcast appearances: 0

Emotional damage survived: infinite

Number of people who could do the same: maybe three, and one of them is dead

Reblog if you know strength isn’t loud. It just survives everything.

</div>

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stra-tek · 10 months ago

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Klingon D7/K'tinga Battlecruiser continuity DEEP DIVE!

Where it all began in TOS, designed by W. Matt Jeffries. The name D7 was an on-set in-joke between Shatner and Nimoy which stuck.

When Star Trek rebooted it's Klingons for The Motion Picture, they added tons of surface detail to the Klingon Battlecruiser too. The name "K'tinga" was given in the TMP blueprint pack (although the model was called "Koro class") and it stuck. This was considered the Klingons' equivalent to the refitted Enterprise seen in the movie.

Deep Space Nine's "Trials and Tribble-ations" crossed DS9 over with TOS' "The Trouble With Tribbles", and the DS9 VFX crew built all-new physical models for visual effects - and Greg Jein chose to add a green tint and K'tinga-style surface detail to the TOS D7 battlecruiser, making us all wonder if they were really meant to be the same ship type all along.

Voyager's "Prophecy" would show us a Klingon "D7" battlecruiser in the Delta Quadrant. Although called a D7 in the script, the CG model is clearly based upon the TMP K'tinga, with the extra hull detailing.

Doug Drexler designed this ⬆️D4 Battlecruiser for Star Trek: Enterprise's "Unexpected" as a predecessor for the ship seen in TOS. But The Powers That Be decided the ship didn't have enough windows (yes, really) and requested the D7/K'tinga CG model from Voyager be used instead⬇️ putting it's first appearance 150 years earlier in 2151.

For the TOS Remastered HD TOS project, the original look for the Klingon D7 Battlecruiser was retained, albeit in a somewhat low-poly PS2-ish form

The Klingon Warbird, seen during the Kobayashi Maru sequence of the 2009 reboot movie (and more so in the deleted scenes, surrounding the damaged Narada before Nero's imprisonment at Rura Penthe), was literally the TMP K'tinga with extra stuff bolted on and smaller windows implying an upscaling to match the enormous Starfleet ships in the Kelvin universe.

The Pike-era novel Children of Kings would reconcile the huge Klingon Warbird by saying it was a larger version of the Battlecruiser (of course, Klingons are no strangers to upscaling their Bird of Prey) and most feared ship in the Klingon fleet

Fast forward to 2017. Star Trek: Discovery has rebooted the look of the Klingons again and this time their ships as well, ten years prior to TOS. And in "Choose Your Pain" this ship ⬆️ (called Sech-class in behind-the-scenes art) is called a D7. But then fast-forward to season 2, when 5 concurrent series' of Trekspam were planned out, tying more closely into previous canon and Discovery backpedaled somewhat on it's unique designs - and a "new" D7 battlecruiser (a more modest updating of the Klingon D7/K'Tinga design, upscaled like the Kelvinverse version to match the bigger Discovery/Strange New Worlds ships) was planned as a unified design to united the 24 Klingon great houses, ignoring ENT: "Unexpected" and Disco's own "Choose Your Pain":

So yeah, the D7 class may or may not be the same as the K'tinga class, and it appeared "first" in 2151 and again in 2257.

#star trek #deep dive #klingons #starship design #star trek tos #ds9 #voyager #star trek aos #kelvin timeline #star trek discovery #strange new worlds

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arliganzey · 20 days ago

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Delta Squad Week Day 1: Dinner

For the @deltasquadweek event, I'm kicking off day 1 with a squad gossip session. Enjoy. <3

Title: What Should We Drink To? Rating/Warnings: M (alcohol consumption) Word Count: 2.5k Special Guest Appearance: Bardan Jusik Summary: Delta Squad's hunt for rogue Kaminoan scientist Ko Sai has led them to Tropix Resort, a fabricated luxury beach resort on the planet Dorumaa. General Bardan Jusik has tasked Delta with an important mission: eat dinner at the resort restaurant. Read it on AO3

===

Tropix Resort, Dorumaa System, 479 Days After the Battle of Geonosis

“Real swell of General Jusik to take us out to dinner for all the trouble,” Scorch said, scrolling the holomenu. He couldn’t understand half of what was on it.

“I don’t get it,” Sev grumbled. “We didn’t do anything.”

Boss sat uncomfortably in the middle of the semi-circle booth with his arms folded, the squad seated on either side of him. Earlier that afternoon, General Jusik dropped a bag of civvy clothes in front of them and told them to get dressed and have dinner ‘on him’.

“It reeks of bribery,” Boss said.

“You’re the one that agreed to it. I’m blaming you if we get court martialed,” Scorch said, still scrolling the menu.

“By who?” Fixer asked. “Sergeant Vau? Zey? We’re trapped in some spy games we aren’t supposed to know are even happening.”

“I bet this goes straight to the Chancellor. It’ll be the gallows for us,” Sev muttered.

A lovely Twi’lek server approached the table. Every staff member at the Tropix Resort was a beautiful, Rutian Twi’lek. They were so blindingly pretty that it became difficult to notice after a while, like staring into the sun.

“Hello, gentlemen,” she said smoothly. “Are you…” Her gaze paused on Sev and Scorch whose facial scars were most obvious to a civilian. Being a fabricated luxury resort employee who dealt mostly with venture capitalists, bankers, and wealthy heiresses, she seemed momentarily thrown off from the script.

Boss, Fixer, and Sev stared back at her with equally disrupted thoughts, as this was the first time any of them had been directly addressed by one of the women working here. Scorch smiled.

“Hi,” said Scorch, looking for her nametag. “Aleena. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. Thank you for asking,” Aleena said, her bright blue eyes blinking until her thoughts reset. Four men who looked like mercenaries on “vacation” probably meant trouble. She smiled back at him, nervous.

Scorch turned on the charm, leaning on the table and grinning up at her. “Can we have a pitcher of Hurricane Punch?”

“Yes, of course. What flavor?”

“Muja fruit.”

“Frozen or on the rocks?”

Scorch did not hesitate. “Frozen. Please.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

“We’d like to do the sushi boat,” Fixer announced.

“The what?” Sev asked.

“Sushi boat,” Fixer repeated for his brother, pointing to the menu holoimage in front of Scorch.

“That is a great choice,” said Aleena.

“Better make it two,” Boss said.

The whole squad looked at him. Aleena became perplexed once more. “Two… sushi boats?” she repeated.

“Yes, please. We’re pretty hungry.”

Aleena did not make a habit out of arguing with guests. Based on the advertised image alone, one sushi boat seemed to be enough for at least six people.

“Of course, sir,” she said finally. “It may take a while to prepare,” she said carefully. “Is that… all right?”

“Not a problem,” said Boss.

“Can we get an order of cheese sticks? Please,” said Sev.

The server’s lekku shivered at the sound of Sev’s voice. “Yes, an order of cheese sticks. Anything else?”

“Nuna wings,” Scorch chimed in. “‘Volcano style’,” he added in a deep, intense whisper as required by the holomenu font which was doused in flames.

“I’d like the chopped vegetables and dip sampler too, please,” said Fixer.

Aleena recorded the orders, the tips of her lekku still quivering a bit. “Very well, gentlemen. Will that be all?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yes, thank you,” Boss said before Scorch could order a second plate of ‘volcano-style’ wings that nobody but him would eat.

Aleena bowed her head and left.

“We are so going to jail for taking a bribe,” Scorch said.

“Supermax for sure,” Sev said.

“At least we won’t be hungry.” Fixer took out his datapad and started tinkering.

Boss took a deep breath in an attempt to relax. Tomorrow would start the work of excavating the site of what might have been Ko Sai’s secret lab, which was now buried underwater in an apparent explosion. The squad could have started hours ago. But General Jusik didn’t seem to be in a rush, even with his boss General Zey breathing down his neck and pressure from the Chancellor himself about the urgency of recovering the Kaminoan scientist.

None of it added up.

“Do you think Omega squad makes this a regular thing?” Boss asked, thinking out loud now. “They’re tight with Jusik. I reckon he takes them out to dinner for a job well done.”

“Kal’buir takes all his boys to the drive-thru for kids meals,” Scorch said. “I bet they got the toys to prove it.”

Fixer snickered, and even Boss grinned.

“Think he takes Bard’ika too?” Sev asked. He might as well join in.

“For sure,” said Scorch. “Bard’ika’s got the most toys of them all. Who’d have thought Skirata would have a jetii favorite? Ordo must be horribly jealous.”

“Ordo likes Bard’ika too,” Fixer said.

“What’s not to like?” Sev said. “He’s smart and cunning all while looking like an innocent schoolboy. Zey doesn’t even suspect he’s practically one of Skirata’s private army.”

Boss stared at Sev. His conjecture, which was meant to be a joke, started to sink in. Even Fixer put his datapad down.

“You don’t think…” Fixer said.

“All those private com calls,” Scorch said.

“Could be a girlfriend,” Boss tried with no certainty at all.

Sev and Scorch made noises that almost resembled giggling.

“Jusik has been talking to Skirata about this mission. That has to be it,” Fixer said, lowering his voice.

“And we were specifically ordered by Zey not to tell Skirata about hunting down Ko Sai,” Scorch said.

“That’s treason,” Sev hissed.

“Shut up,” Boss snapped. “It’s none of our business.”

“What if we can’t find Ko Sai?” Sev asked, gripping the edge of the table like he was about to get up at a moment’s notice.

A droid rolled up to the table and caused the squad to snap to attention so it didn’t look like they were whispering secrets. Sitting up ramrod straight and ceasing all conversation only made them look even more conspiratorial. The droid paid no mind, dropping off four cocktail glasses and a pitcher of ombre pink-orange-yellow alcoholic slushie. It rolled away.

Scorch started pouring the drinks. “Then Sarge kills us before the Chancellor can. You think the old chakaar would let a pruny politician have us killed by firing squad? No, he’ll do it himself.”

“They wouldn’t waste the ammunition on a firing squad,” Fixer cut in.

“We’ll get sent out of an airlock,” said Sev.

“Stop,” Boss ordered. “Nobody’s getting executed. We never even had this conversation. Is that understood?”

“Yessir,” the other three chorused.

The Twi’lek server returned with the appetizers and placed them down on the table. “Can I get you gentlemen anything else right now?”

“Not right now. Thanks, Aleena,” Scorch told her, flashing another smile.

“All right.” She smiled back and left.

When Scorch looked back at the squad, they were all glaring at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Fixer said, and went back to his datapad while nibbling at his plate of vegetables and dips.

Boss dragged a hand over his face before taking a drink of frozen punch.

Before long, a second pitcher of slushie punch was ordered, and one sushi boat arrived. The squad agreed the chef was calling their bluff — see if they can make it through one boat before they bother with another.

Well, they’d never had to feed four very hungry commandos.

Delta squad dug in. The table was silent except for a few mutterings of can I try that?, was it spicy?, pass the hot sauce, but otherwise the commandos’ mouths were occupied with sushi roll after sushi roll.

When Aleena came back to check on them, half the boat was gone. She said nothing, simply staring in awe as the spectacle of four men inhaling dozens of rolls of sushi. It captivated (and kind of disgusted?) her.

“Uhm,” she said after a moment when nobody noticed her. “How is the sushi boat?”

“Wonderful.” Boss delicately patted his mouth with a napkin and smiled at her. “We’ll need that second boat.”

“And shots,” Scorch said.

“What?” Fixer asked with audible disdain.

“A round of rum shots,” Scorch clarified with a beaming smile.

“Okay,” Aleena said, smiling back at Scorch even though Fixer was staring at him like he might hit him. “Four shots…?”

“Four shots,” Fixer grumbled, not wanting to argue while the pretty Twi’lek was watching. Aleena put in the order and left the table.

Sev hadn’t looked up from his plate throughout the exchange.

A few minutes later, the droid delivered the shots and Scorch handed them over to his brothers. “What are we drinking to?”

Boss shrugged, holding up his shot glass. “General Jusik.”

“To General Jusik, may he find manda or whatever it is he’s looking for.”

They raised their glasses and drank.

Scorch nearly choked on the burning liquid as he brought the glass down to reveal a skinny blonde man with a scraggly beard standing in front of their table. Had he heard? He definitely heard.

Jusik seemed unbothered. Well, not any more bothered than he had been all day.

“Looks like you’ve managed to find something to eat for dinner,” he said with a mild smile and indicating the picked over sushi boat.

“Want some, sir?” Sev asked.

General Jusik, weariness under his eyes, nodded and sat down. He still looked like a ticking time bomb that might break down and yell or cry.

Boss wordlessly put a few sushi rolls on a plate and handed it to Scorch to hand to Jusik. Then he looked expectantly at Scorch to do… something about the general. He looked downright morose.

“Try the punch, sir.” Scorch passed a glass to him and poured. Jusik took it and sipped. They’d all shared stories and drinks before and after the Triple Zero mission, and there was something a bit nostalgic about it, although the absence of Skirata, the Nulls, and Omega made it a lot less festive. So did the news of Fi’s injury—the last they’d heard from Omega, he was not responding to stimuli.

“It’s good,” Jusik said in an effort to perk up. “Thanks. What’s in it?”

“No idea, sir. Some kind of alcohol.” Scorch grinned.

Jusik shrugged and drank a little faster.

“It’s rum.” Fixer went back to his datapad, less casually tinkering and now looking like he needed to be working on something.

Boss ordered a third pitcher and decided to venture straight into uncharted territory. “Sir, any news of Fi?”

“No. Nothing new.” Jusik went from looking slightly stable to definitely about to cry.

“He’s in good hands.” Boss did not sound convinced. “Head injuries happen. The medics know what they’re doing.”

Sev finished his glass. “‘Nother round of shots,” he croaked at the server droid as it passed by.

Nobody expected Jusik to protest or scold them for the amount of alcohol circulating around the table, and he didn’t.

“It’s best not to think about it,” Scorch said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

That roused Jusik enough to look at him, his eyes wide and a bit wild. “That’s not true. We’ve been sent out here on a fool’s errand, when I could be helping Fi.”

The squad froze. So did Jusik.

“Say again, sir?” Boss said.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. We’ll sort it tomorrow.” Jusik shrank into the booth, looking like he regretted sitting down with them.

Scorch felt… bad for him, but more than that, annoyed that the general knew something the squad didn’t, and probably should. He could tell the synapses fired for the rest of the squad too. Jusik was lying to them, but it was hard to stay mad. The way the general cared like no one else in command did…

Jusik was, above all else, infallibly likable.

“With all due respect to General Zey,” Jusik said carefully, “you should be tasked with something more important than a man hunt. It’s a waste of your skills. But General Zey thinks you’re capable of accomplishing anything, for what that’s worth. It’s why he wanted you on the job.”

The squad went back to eating, but more like picking at their food, in an attempt to get Jusik to do the same. He seemed stretched to his limit, which said a lot for a Jedi.

They couldn’t stay mad at him. Even if Jusik was playing spy games, the squad knew Vau was aware, and Vau wouldn’t let anything happen to them if things went sideways. Jusik was trying to assure them Zey wouldn’t give them any trouble, either, but they were all less sure of that.

“Aw, the general really likes us,” Sev said cloyingly.

“Aw, shucks,” Scorch said.

“Warms the heart.” Fixer glanced over at Jusik, unsure if the banter would make him lighten up. He always seemed so eager to impress, to feel included, to do things right. Well, this was how Delta handled everything, so he could either keep up or shut it out.

“Yeah…” Jusik sensed the teasing and smiled again. “I’m not just saying that.”

“We know,” Boss said. “We don’t want to let him down. Or you.” Mostly you.

Jusik nodded, and the shots arrived, which he took upon himself to distribute. It was almost apologetic.

“What are we drinking to?” Scorch asked.

They all looked at Jusik. It was his lot as the commanding officer at the table to make the toast.

“To Fi,” Jusik said quietly.

The commandos raised their glasses, nobody looking directly at each other, afraid that they’d see their own fear reflected in their brothers’ eyes.

“To Fi,” Delta squad chorused, and everyone drank.

It became apparent that 1700 was an early hour for dinner. As the evening progressed, the restaurant filled up, and so did the bar. When the second sushi boat was demolished, and a fourth pitcher of slushie completed, Delta squad and Bardan Jusik faced the imminent next step, which was to go back to the transport to finish planning the mission.

A mission no one seemed to have any hope of completing.

“I wanted to see the aquarium by the bar,” Jusik said suddenly.

“Yeah. Looks nice,” Sev mumbled.

The commandos’ enhanced metabolisms made the copious amounts of alcohol consumed seem like nothing more than a couple of drinks. Admittedly, they managed to feel a small buzz, but not enough to impede their judgment. Only enough for them to realize the mission was a lost cause, and like Jusik said, they’d sort it in the morning.

If Vau knew, he’d kill them. But Vau wasn’t here. He was probably part of the reason why the whole thing went to osik.

Jusik paid at the control panel next to their table and motioned for them to follow him to the bar.

“Guess that’s an order,” Boss said.

Scorch slid out of the booth, followed by Boss, Fixer, and Sev. “We love following orders. Let’s go.”

#deltasquadweek #delta squad #clone commando boss #clone commando scorch #clone commando sev #clone commando fixer #republic commando #true colors #republic commando true colors #fixer #boss #sev #scorch #bardan jusik

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