Having now posted two whole fics, I thought I’d create a masterlist.
Ratings are next to each title.
PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS
Oberyn Martell
+ Oberyn is Our Greatest Post-Punk Novelist (Explict)
OMC (combination of Fire Meets Gasoline video character and Hope video character)
+ You, Not Appearing (Teen)
Headcanons
+ When You Get a Small Cut (Teen)
If you’re interested in being tagged when I post something, you can comment, reblog, or message me to be added. I’ll also tag fics with the “my writing” tag.
all goofing aside I genuinely don't understand the urge to reimagine Taylor Allison Swift as a secretly queer icon when the pop music scene(TM) is like. literally overflowing with women who actually like women. Gaga and Kesha and Miley and Halsey are right there. Rina Sawayama and Hayley Kiyoko and Rebecca Black and Kehlani and Victoria Monét and Miya Folick if you're willing to get slightly less top 100. Janelle and Demi for them nonbinary takes on liking girls. like what are we doing here. like I'm not even saying you can't enjoy Taylor but why would you hang all your little gay hopes on her.
why have multiple people reblogged this with some horse-assed "um actually most of these people are bi or pan" did I fucking stutter I said they like girls. what is your point. I'm going to kill you.
btw to just clarify for anyone who sees this reblog of this post
op is basically saying something along the lines of "yea ik taylor swift is bi but like. why is she y'all's only lgbtq+ pop icon when there are all these other lgbtq+ people in the pop scene???"
i might have worded this badly but hopefully i got the main point across
op: carrots are not fruits. raspberries and apples and blueberries and pears and lingonberries are fruits. i’m not saying you can’t enjoy carrots but why would you hang all your fruitsalad hopes on it
idiot 1: aren’t raspberries berries?
op: yes that is indeed why it’s on the list of fruit
op: why have multiple people reblogged this with “umm actually most of these are berries”. did i fucking stutter i said they’re fruits. i’m going to kill you
idiot 2: btw just to clarify op is saying “yeah i know carrots are a fruit but there are other fruits too”
op: where in the sweet mary mother of cunt did i say that carrots were a fruit
idiot 3: op is saying that liking carrots for being fruits isn’t a bad thing, but to also know they are not the only fruit
String identified:
a gg a g 't ta t g t ag Ta A t a a ct c t c c(T) . ta g t acta . Gaga a a a a a a gt t. a aaaa a a a cca ac a a a cta ét a a c ' g t gt gt t . a a t a ta g g. at a g . ' t ag ca't Ta t ag a tt ga .
’t a Gaga a?
tat ' t t a
a t gg t t -a " acta t t a a" cg ttt a t g. at t. ' gg t .
a a t t t t t c t a.
t c ca t t
: a a g t a t ct t ag c
t t t ca a t g t t
aca ag tg ag t "a ta t t . 'a' gt+ c t a a t t gt+ t c???"
gt a t a t gt t a t ac
cta t cg a Ta t
ag tat g Ta g gta+ t a a tg, t t a t t .
t ca a t ga t a a.
ca t
a t cg t t' a
ga a t a a ga
t:
: cat a t t. a a a a a a a g a t. ’ t ag ca’t cat t ag a taa t
t : a’t a ?
: tat t’ t t t
: a t gg t t “ acta t t a ”. cg ttt a t’ t. ’ gg t
t : t t t ca ag “a cat a a t t t a t t t”
: t t a t ct a tat cat a t
t : ag tat g cat g t ’t a a tg, t t a t a t t t
:
Closest match: Pyrausta purpuralis genome assembly, chromosome: 22
Common name: Common Purple & Gold
“Regarding setting, the court held that both works taking place in Alaska high schools was not protectable because Alaska is a public place and setting a teen novel in a high school is a common genre convention.”
Resident Evil Miami: Part 10: Not Supposed To Be This Way
Title: Resident Evil: Miami
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Dr. Cait Barrow (female OC)
Summary: Made in the style of a DLC, following a post RE9 Leon backtracking to a very important mission, takes place 2014-2015. Leon is sent to recover a missing, potentially kidnapped doctor, and as he investigates he is lead to the vacation mansion of James Marcus, former Umbrella scientist who went rogue. The Marcus Mansion has all the quirks of a Trevor house and to make matters worse it is in Miami, right by the water, and a hurricane is approaching. Can Leon Kennedy save the doctor, defeat the BOWs, and get the hell out before he's swept away?
Character: Dr. Caitlin Barrow, scientist. Female, early 30s, who was minding her own business when a would-be investor in her research kills her partner, black-bags her head, and she wakes up who the fuck knows where and what the fuck is that.
She's an OC and if you liked the reader-insert Doc from "First, Do No Harm" you'll like this one though she is going to be white and, again, in her 30s when Leon's also in his 30s. He's about 37 by my count, I was going to have her come in around 34-35.
This is the promised "DLC" that I mentioned while writing the Leon x reader fic "First Do No Harm" (which is complete and on the Leon Masterlist)
RATING: R for the series
Warnings: none really? This is Resident Evil so prepare yourselves.
Word Count: 5000 <-- so the problem was that this was getting on towards 10k so I cut it into 2 sections
A/N: Sorry for the delay, we've hit a lot of *things*. Lot of moments. Lot of fucking Inventory, which I feel I'm not balancing as well as I could but I'm doing my best.
The stairs echoed which made Cait nervous, so the conversation slowly quieted, but on the next landing they received a pleasant enough surprise– at least for Leon. Cait wasn’t yet of the opinion that dead bodies so torn apart were inherently good but she did think it was better than the ones that bit at her.
“Personal security—” Leon whistled through his teeth, “Shame to let all that ammo go to waste, help me?”
“Sure?” Cait reached down but tentatively, not quite sure where to go, and Leon smirked.
“Do you take direction?”
“When driving? No. Right now? Please.”
He snorted, “There’s a woman over there and she has work gloves– you’re going to want those. Lots of sharp and gross things, the gloves help.”
Cait looked over and saw the woman, going over and saying, “Pardon me but it looks like you might not be using these….” Once she pulled them on she shivered and muttered, “This is not grave robbing, this is not grave robbing, this is not grave robbing.”
“It might be, but I have a note.” He pointed down, “She has a baton, it’s metal. Better than your bats if you like to swing stuff and it hangs on your belt loops. Easy access.”
“Everyone likes easy access.” Cait clipped the baton to her belt loop, “Ok, now what?”
“See those pouches?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Ammo. Grab as much of it as you can off of them and hand it to me, if you see a gun I want it. Do you know guns?”
“I know Duck Hunt?”
“Shit, I loved Duck Hunt.” Leon rolled his newly set shoulder, “OK, so if you find a gun ask me what to do. Assume all guns are loaded and the safety is off, so assume they are live and dangerous.”
“No problem, I was running on that general assumption anyway.”
First she ran through the four corpses and handed Leon what she considered an egregious number of ammo boxes, “Do you need all these?”
“Depends on how many holes you want to put in Greg.” Leon was loading ammo cartridges onto his belt, “Do you know how to use one of these?” He indicated one of the spare handguns on a body.
“Very much no. I would at best be a danger to myself and others and at worst you are a sad casualty of friendly fire.”
Leon pocketed the extra 9mm.
“But you are carrying around the bat and the balls, so you can throw things?”
“Sure?”
“Ok, I’m giving you some of these grenades.”
“And if I wanted a crash course in—”
“Pull pin and throw. If there’s no pin? Push up this handle here–” he pointed to it as he spoke, “and throw.”
“Activate and throw. Throw right away.”
“Yeah. As my one instructor said– you’ll only fuck up with grenades once, so don’t fuck up.”
Cait sucked in a breath, “That’s motivating… do you want the spare handguns?”
“I have one, better off carrying the ammo and keeping space. Hey take a look on that one–” he nudged a guard that was keeled over and Cait noticed the thing in his hand wasn’t a gun, not precisely, and Leon said, “Grab that by the barrel, fingers off the trigger.”
“What is it?”
“Let me get a look….alright, yeah, similar to what I know. This is a taser. You will shoot with this button–” he pointed to it, “and it will launch electrodes. They will usually shoot a few feet but they won’t go over four or five so try to be close when using. When the electrodes attach keep your finger down on the trigger to electrify.”
She nodded, “I can assume I’ll just know when it’s enough?”
“If they stop coming at you it’ll work.” Leon confirmed and then pointed to someone’s belt, “Grab that keycard.”
It was clearly labeled Security Office and he clipped it to his own belt, “We should check it out, usually Ingrid can get in their systems through there. Centralized hubs but ironically low levels of security in the office itself.”
“Well maybe it’s up there?” Cait looked up the last stretch of stairs with some trepidation, “Do, uh, you think…I know we are supposed to get out, and we should, but shouldn’t we see what we can do to contain this? I mean…I doubt everyone had an implant which means the virus they used to mutate my parasite is contagious and it could mean we have layers here.”
“I believe we do everything helpful we can and also continuously move towards the exit. Both things should keep happening until it’s clear we gotta make a choice.” Leon shrugged, “Sorry that isn’t clear but I’ve done it before. It’s worked.”
“I….I want to go home, but I can’t stand this all just staying here.” Cait squared her shoulders a little, “I want to know it’s going to be fixed or…settled or…you know, not spread. So. Count me in.”
That made Leon smile, “Not used to this side of things, are you?”
“No…but if I can help? I want to help.”
“I’m sure you’ll get your chance…let’s go?”
He didn’t want to start moving up the stairs until she was ready but she set her backpack on her shoulders and checked her new supplies, then said, “Yeah let’s…let’s go.”
9mm handgun, customized, Beretta inspired, TESTAROSSA 25/25, Extra ammo: 50
Combat Knife, custom bowie, TAP OUT, 100%
Magnum, custom specs, HOMERUN, 10/10, Extra Ammo: 20
Boot Knife, keyhole grip, LITTLE BUDDY, 100%
Flint for sharpening
Kevlar Vest & Fingerless Gloves
Pump action shotgun, 4/4 Extra Ammo: 12
Keycard to bridge
Sling
Hybrid Plaga Sample: Aguacera strain
Grenades Regular: 6 Sound: 2
Security Office Keycard
Security office key card
9mm handgun, basic security Glock 20/20 Extra Ammo: 50
Inventory (Backpack)
Grenades: Regular 2 Sound 5
Nautical Star Key & staff hall
Baseball bat 100%
Baseball bat 30%
Baseballs (3)
Lab Reports From Aguacera
Taser, charged, (5 shots)
Keychain Mace
Metal Bully Baton
The stairs led to a long ornate hallway with a sign:
DIRECTOR’S OFFICE
FAMILY SUITES
SECURITY OFFICE/SURVEILLANCE CENTER
“Is there a….good choice?”
“Security likely to have goodies, but director’s office…I bet nothing important is in there.” Leon whistled through his teeth.
“Ok…that’s this way?” She pointed down the hall and Leon nodded, letting her take the lead when she wanted so she started feeling more in control. It seemed that since setting his shoulder she was coming back into herself and all he knew was he had certainly had worse rescues.
There were family rooms on the way to the director:
Marcus
Alvarez
Then a door that used to have a sign but didn’t anymore. The Marcus door was quiet, but behind the Alvarez one was a thump-thump-thump. Cait eyed Leon who sighed, taking his arm out of the sling so it could grip his gun, and shook her head, whispering, “Please be careful.”
“I could say the same to you.” He nodded at her bat, “Swing for the fences, ok?”
She nodded, and stepped closer to his hurt arm, as if she could protect him. It made him smirk and he held up three fingers until she saw them, then two, then one, then he kicked in the door.
“GWRAHHH!”
There were security guards in here too. One of them was wielding a metal baton– swinging wildly and Cait found she had to knock it back with the bat. At first she swung gently like she didn’t want to hurt someone, then Leon said, “They won’t go easy on you!”
So she swung so hard she snapped one’s jaw off. It continued to come for her and she swung again and again and again. The bat was taking damage but not so much as the guard. Leon was quicker with it – he had his gun out and hit each in front of him a few times in the head, dropping them like bags of cement. There were three by him, but she had one on the floor now and she smashed its skull until it was only twitching.
Then there was one.
It was a woman, and older. Leon thought he recognized her from the files – Eliana Alvarez. Though, to be fair, she wasn’t looking her best. Her long, curly hair striped with gray was half ripped out and a mechanical and organic device. It had legs that appeared to hug her face, sometimes tapping on it. She had no visible eyes anymore and her mouth was all raw– stripped down to teeth and blood and screams without words.
Her body appeared burned and somewhat recovered but the layers of skin looked boiled like cheap leather. She had on a canvas jacket that said DI and it was ripped and bloodied.
“Leon?” The voice in his ear was small.
“Hunnigan I’m busy meeting Eliana Alvarez.”
“She’s…dead?”
“Not anymore.” He shook his head, “How did she die?”
“Shot in the head. Execution style.”
“Great.” He put his fingers up, tapping the comm.
Eliana’s arms looked striped with layers of muscle– it wasn’t natural but manufactured. The same layers of metal and boiled-leather skin were there. Her skin, what might have been her real skin, was gray and bloodless but the parasite on her tapped its insect-like legs and when it did it appeared like a puppet-master– Eliana’s arms moved.
“I take it you never saw your tech do that?”
“Uh no– what…what the hell is that?”
“Remember the guy who kidnapped you?”
“Yeah?”
“Meet his mom.”
Eliana shrieked and charged the pair– her arm extended supernaturally and she swept it across, sending Cait into the wall.
“CAIT!” Leon’s eyes narrowed, “That’s not very hospitable.”
He took out a grenade and tossed it by her feet, dodging to stay away from the blast, and rolling nearly into a rifle that had been hidden under a half-eaten security guard, “Oh come to papa.”
He pulled back the gun to check the ammo– six shots in the chamber and a box of ammo on the guard. He aimed at Eliana’s head and BOOM– one shot in the parasite. The thing itself seemed to scream and it turned to lunge at him so he ran, trying to keep its focus on him. He aimed and got two more shots off on the parasite, chipping a good portion of it away but it charged him before he could get another. He rolled and one of his holster straps got grabbed by the tentacled arm of the monster.
“Hands off bitch!” Cait threw a grenade and for a second worried that she had done it wrong, but then it exploded and the monster was thrown off balance, dropping Leon. He took out his shotgun as the thing turned on Cait.
“Hey! I thought we had something—” He fired off four rounds, all to the thing’s head, and the mechanical parasite was blown off and the body fell, “Some people send such mixed signals.”
Cait walked over a little, “Is it…uh…?”
“Oh yeah.” Leon nudged it with his boot. Cait walked over to the remains of the parasite and sighed.
“Too damaged, I can’t really tell anything from it….I wonder if she had notes. I mean, probably not from her after but…did you say she was dead before they implanted?”
“I take it that was not in the original design?”
“Most decidedly not.” Cait threw the pieces on the floor, “That was never part of my design.”
“Does that look different to you?” He knelt down to study it and as he did hissed when his shoulder moved wrong and she turned, fixed him with doctor eyes and silently guided his arm into the sling.
“I mean that doesn’t look like my design. I meant parasite like a metaphor, I don’t have some closet insect fetish.” She looked around, “Maybe there’s clues here?”
They poked around and Leon saw a drawer stuck open. When he jerked it the rest of the way, a journal was inside and he sucked in a breath, “I know this symbol…” he held it up, “this is called Las Plagas.”
“The plague?” Cait came over, “What is it?”
“I was sent in dark conditions to Spain a few years back. Ashley Graham had been kidnapped.”
Cait’s eyes widened, “That didn’t make the news…”
“Helps when daddy’s the President.” Leon handed Cait the book, “This group had discovered these bugs– real bugs– that burrowed into people and turned them into zombies. They weren’t mindless– one centralized person could control the crowds. After I found Ashley and we cleared our systems we terminated the island and its research centers. I thought it was gone until I saw it years later…exported to the Slav Republic. Sold as bioweapons to guerillas.” He tapped the book in Cait’s hands, “This woman, she was leading a research team there. I met one of the guys who left, he was helping me before they…they got to him. He said it all went to shit. They didn’t think this was the research they were doing, they didn’t realize this is what it would do, and he wanted to stop it.”
Cait sucked in a breath, “Sounds familiar.”
“Here– does it make any sense to you?”
Cait opened the journal and perused it, “I don’t read Spanish, but the math is math…I can make out some of the equations.”
She was reading intently and then tapped a section, “I wrote the first half of this, but the second? This is different. See, when I was planning this the device would go on the back of the neck so it could access the cerebral cortex. The other option was a direct implantation to the head which…” She eyed the corpse, “looks like they tried it under…more extreme conditions. If half the brain is gone, I guess nobody can protest such a dangerous surgery. I didn’t want to mess with the brain, I just wanted something that could inform the brain to do something different. Chemical signals, hormonal shifts, all designed to get the body to produce its own solutions. More melatonin before bed, more endorphins when you’re depressed, more antibodies when you’re sick…” She trapped again on the equation, “here, this thing, it’s a variable, something I don’t know. It’s got a code like it’s organic, which…you said bug? Like…bug bug?” Leon nodded, “Well…could be this is where they tried to hybridize that part. But the rest? The…the other virus components?” She gestured widely at the book, “I imagine more of this would say. Can we load this to your–your lady in the ear?”
Leon tapped in, “Hunnigan? How long did you say you took Spanish in college?”
“Long enough to also hire a professional translator. What do you have?”
“Eliana Alvarez’s research journal? Possibly from her visit to Spain?”
“And you have the ability to scan it for me?”
Cait turned the book to the front cover and held it in the best light they had while Leon got out his camera. Page by page Cait held the book and flipped to the next bit as Leon nodded her on until they had done the whole thing. Ingrid chirped, “Translations are processing. Thanks for not blowing it up.”
Cait cocked an eyebrow at Leon, “Do you blow a lot of things up?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes you mean to, sometimes you just…get a rocket launcher and it goes wrong.”
Cait laughed a little and Hunnigan made a little “Hmm” sound and said, “Alright kids, you two stay safe and make good choices. I’ll let you know what my translators find as soon as they find it and remember– storm’s still coming.”
Cait tried to store the book but when she had no room Leon produced a simple lighter, “Here– we have the copies, now let’s make sure nobody else gets that.”
Cait took the lighter and brought the book to the fireplace in the room, putting it in and setting it on fire, lighting it three times just to be sure it took. She was quiet as she did it, crouched low to watch it burn to ash, and Leon put a hand on her shoulder, “You ok?”
“Your friend, the one that they…they got to. Did he…did he get to know that you stopped them?”
Leon thought about it– in his mind’s eye he saw Luis, cigarette in his mouth, down in a basement and probably never buried, “He trusted that I would.”
“That’s good.” Cait nodded, “And you’ll do it again?”
“Until the bench me.”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes, “This isn’t what it was supposed to be. They took something that…that I really loved. Something I believed in. And they made it a nightmare. This is just…it’s not right, and it’s not supposed to be here.”
Leon ran his thumb over the line of her shoulder as comfortingly as he could, “Let’s see what else is here and then? Let’s make sure nobody else gets it.”
She took a slow breath in and out, then stood up, “Yeah let’s see what else is here.”
The hall was empty and the next room was labeled MARCUS. Leon put his ear against the door and shook it, “I don’t hear anything, but that doesn’t always mean something good.”
He had one gun in his hand and again Cait had the bat in hers, staying close to his left, and he noted it. Ingrid took care of him, but he struggled to see other people who did. He was the one doing the caring in most circumstances. He saved Ashley’s life – she sent a Christmas card, donated money to the Chicago PD retirement fund, and for his birthday had him sent a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle. It was kind and showed some appreciation, but after Spain he’d been pulled from active duty for a month as they quarantined him and ran tests. The adrenaline wore off within seventy-two hours and that’s when he felt like he’d been hit by a truck– bruises everywhere, body sore, barely able to bend and get his pants on so he was mildly relieved that he lived alone and just let himself live in the exact same sweats for four days until moving was easier.
I’m not a kid anymore.
Not that anyone took care of him since Raccoon City. He’d showed up there and boom– it was different. There was no going back to the before.
Cait didn’t know him, but she was looking out for him and it was an impulse that endeared her to him. He was always going to save her, but it was his pleasure, now, to make sure she was truly ok.
He held up three fingers and waited for her to acknowledge them with a nod, then two, then he kicked in Marcus’ door– the same pattern as before but the inside was different. This room was empty but while Cait put her bat down fast Leon took a minute and ritually cleared it– corners, the attached bathroom, and even peeked behind the floor length curtains.
“Nothing.” He confirmed and in that time Cait had wandered through the room. Tidy but old. Cobwebs had collected in much of it but there was a path on the carpet that was more used than the rest, and it led to a desk. She was looking at it. The room was fairly barren– the desk, a monstrous four poster bed with canopy, a fireplace, an ornate armchair, and a painting of James Marcus and Eliana Alvarez that was easily six feet tall.
Cait’s hands ran over the surface of the wood and her brow was furrowed. Leon studied her, “Spidey sense tingling?”
“Yeah…just feels like there’s something—” She found a pressure switch under a carved emblem and when her finger brushed it a hidden panel popped out of the desk and presented a VHS tape to her, “-- here.” She turned it over in her hands, “Analog, very cool…so where do you go?”
Leon was eyeing the painting and Cait noticed– his body shifted, arms crossed, hip cocked, and he was looking at it hard, so she elbowed him gently, “Spidey-sense?”
“You could say…” He eyed the portrait and then saw a chair by the fireplace. He tried to move it but it was weighted, so he tried pulling it and it shifted on a track. The track aimed to the left so Leon pulled it there and it brought the chair directly in front of the portrait. When it clicked into place a screen descended over the portrait and a slot opened on the wall that was the perfect size for a VHS. Leon smirked at Cait, “Teamwork. Makes the dream work.”
She walked over and put the VHS in the wall and Leon gestured for her to sit in the chair.
The screen came to life and it was James Marcus.
“I am Doctor James Marcus and being of sound mind do record this as my last will and testament.” The doctor walked into the frame and sat at the same desk, but it had been turned to put his back to the window, “Years ago I helped co-found the Umbrella Corporation. I believed in bettering humanity, I believed that our research would hold the key, and I believed I was not alone in that endeavor. Viruses. The world should see them the way I do. I was not prepared for the change in my co-founders. Spencer, Ashford, and I had been aligned for years, I thought, but as my virus research began to truly emerge as the beginning of something else, something new, they did not see me as a partner. No, I became their competition. They wanted what I made, but they didn’t want me to be in charge of it. I was a cog in the wheel of their production. If they only knew how well I understood this, I surely would not live to see tomorrow. I don’t imagine I am a perfect actor, so I think they will eventually discover or they will imagine my genius is generic and can be handed to anyone. So, knowing that my noncompliance is my death warrant, I am secreting all this away. I have, here, on the island, another life and another chance. It started on an excursion to get more samples for the Progenitor, but it became more. I met someone who understood my feelings of being a meaningless cog when I was so much more. Eliana truly opened my eyes– Spencer and Ashford wanted to make money. Control the world. Become tyrants. I suppose when I saw the plans for my T virus I shouldn’t have been shocked by that. Money can’t be their aim– it’s petty and crass, sways lesser men to do things they know are not right. Eliana has something more– belief. With her connections my virus can do something…something more. They can trace anything I’ve made at Umbrella and as much as Wesker is a success I see him, too, falling to vanity. He is so assured of his own personal superiority that he has lost the plot. So I am here, with Eliana, with our son, Raul, and we– we will bring true equality. These governments and armies that believe themselves so powerful because they can outspend one another? I will give my virus to their competition just to prove how petty their little toys are. May the world of these small men be torn down, and in its stead my virus will shape a new world order. I doubt I will live to see it. As it is– this island, and all associated with it, goes to my son, Raul, and I hope he feels as strongly as I do about how to go forward.”
The video ended and Cait shivered, “He’s creepy.”
“He is. His work is too.” Leon shook his head, putting a hand on Cait’s shoulder, “You ok?”
“What is the T virus?” She mused, “I mean I know what I saw in the BSAA room, I know what Greg was working with from what they let me read, but I’ve never seen these things….”
“It’s…Raccoon City.” Leon’s hand flinched on her shoulder and he tried to hide it by pulling it back to his own hip, “I’m no scientist. I was just a dumb kid who showed up to work late and got lucky. But it was contagious– Umbrella owned that city, seemed like they were experimenting on people, samples went wide. True zombies– mindless, violent, hungry. Contagious. They bit? People died. People didn’t always die fast, they turned. Then there were these other things…this…this he was eight feet-nine feet tall, gray, strong like a brick wall, and had a serious hard on for chasing me down. Marked me as a trespasser or something. Put me through walls. Nearly broke my neck. You’d hit him? He took it. You damaged him? He just regenerated. Cut off his arm? New horrible arm– like our friend, back in the other room. Regrown but…not normal. And hard, I really…I didn’t think I was making it out. A rocket launcher dropp–”
“A rocket launcher?!”
“You can laugh, but without it? You’d be getting yourself out.” He rolled his sore shoulder and Cait stood up, watching him, making sure it was reflexive and not the injury getting worse, “T virus was so bad they bombed that city to keep it contained. It wasn’t the only thing in there either– G virus, and that they got samples of. Well…I guess all of this–” He gestured, “means that even though they bombed it? It didn’t work. It got out anyway.”
His voice was sad and low when he said it and Cait rubbed his arm, “That’s terrible. They would do all of that and when it got out of hand just boom. And even then? Even then…” Her brow tightened and she swallowed, “How did you get out?”
“Honestly? I think that was just dumb luck.” He looked up, “And then it made me special, so they trained me. Now? This is all I can do.”
“You can probably do anything you want.”
“I am good at pointing and shooting.” He smirked, “I can’t do all the research stuff. Find clues? Sure. Put it together? Well, they’ve outsmarted me before.”
“It’s not smarts, it’s heart.” Cait took a breath, gesturing to the screen, “Medicine is not supposed to be like this. This is not how…I study viruses. This is not how it is for all of us. He’s some megalomaniac who happens to be a genius, and it becomes everyone’s problem instead of everyone’s solution. It’s supposed to be about helping. Doing no harm. That’s the promise we make…I don’t understand how people like him get this far.”
“Makes money.” Leon grunted.
“That’s shitty.”
“It is.” He agreed and nodded to the door, “Let’s keep going.”
He opened the door for Cait and waited, making sure she got out and putting his hand behind her back as she got out, and then they left the mad mind of James Marcus behind.
Case
9mm handgun, customized, Beretta inspired, TESTAROSSA 25/25 Extra ammo: 70
Combat Knife, custom bowie, TAP OUT, 100%
Magnum, custom specs, HOMERUN 10/10 Extra Ammo: 30
Boot Knife, keyhole grip, LITTLE BUDDY, 100%
Flint for sharpening
Kevlar Vest & Fingerless Gloves
Pump action shotgun Modified muzzle 6/6 Extra ammo: 30
Keycard to bridge
Sling
Hybrid Plaga Sample: Aguacera strain
Grenades Regular: 6 Sound: 2
Rifle with scope 10/10 Extra Ammo: 30
Inventory (Backpack)
Grenades: Regular 2 Sound 5
Kevlar
Baseball bat 100%
Baseball bat 50%
Baseballs (3)
Lab Reports From Aguacera
Flare gun, 5 flares
Keychain Mace
Metal Bully Baton
The last door was broken, scratched up, but not locked. Inside it was the most lived in– the bed was unmade, there was a half-drunk glass of water. A mirror. A closet of suits.
But the thing that got their attention first was the two lickers that were sleeping by the fireplace.
Cait put a hand over her mouth. The door being open meant that they hadn’t made noise coming in but she froze and Leon stepped in front of her, watching the way his weight hit the floorboards. One hand reached around to keep her calm, and the other took out his Magnum and aimed. He took a steady breath.
BAM BAM BAM BAM
Four shots– two bodies. She waited two whole seconds to make sure they were dead and nothing else came out before letting go of the breath she was holding and Leon patted her arm, “Guard dogs sleeping on the job.”
“How do they just…do that?”
“I haven’t seen them take commands since…” He shook his head, “The Slav. It’s too much to say, but I don’t like it.”
She walked over and touched one of them with her shoe, “What, exactly, are they? Dogs?”
“No, they also had dogs…at least in Raccoon City. Spain had wolves.”
“Wolves?” Cait shook her head at him, “This is so not my world. I like labs. Labs and computer simulations. Charts. Data sets.”
He smirked, “I like cop movies.”
“I mean I like those too.” She rubbed her eyes, “Is this…is this Raul’s room?”
It was then she opened the closet and it had lab coats, suits, tactical gear, swimwear. It had a few sound grenades on a dresser and Leon pocketed those. It had a key card: Director’s Office. He held it up, “Well this’ll be useful…unless you see something else you want?”
“You want some shorts?”
He snorted, “I do not have the legs for it.”
“I don’t imagine that’s true.” She laughed a little and they looked at the door. She drew in a breath, “I mean I’d kill for a shower, but it doesn’t feel like the right time. Let’s…let’s get home, yeah?”
He nodded at her, “Let’s do that.”
A/N: Inventory will get an overhaul next round, I lost track for a bit. Had several edit points.
Not Beta Read. We edit 6 months later at 2am.
Resident Evil regulars, I'm new here! I don't know your tags well, help a girl out and RB please. I see several RE communities but have no idea who takes fanfiction-- help a girl out.
So I updated with speed like I was being stalked by Mr. X and have done nearly 100k on Leon in a month. I don't know. There are other stories on the Leon Masterlist (it's linked up top)
First, Do No Harm (complete) Leon x Reader (slowburn, wife)
Safe Haven: Leon finds a baby on a job and someone's gotta raise it (also an x reader)
Tags (from the new list) Let me know if you want to be added! @indiegirlunited @spadesjadesfiction @harriedandharassed @avidreader73 @itsrubberbisquit @amneris21 @iceclaw101 @thelion-sroar @ferns-fics @tintinn16 @vabeachazn @brandyllyn @felteppsers @missladym1981 @stealyourblorbos @felteppsters @mostclevermiss @elegantduckturtle @100percentlazybonez @aliwritesfic-main @modiddys-blog @qardasngan @julesandgems @devilslittlehelper @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @superunkn0wn @thiskingdomwillendure @deo-data @anfervaldez @ionlypartiallyslay @sunshine-angel08 @ladylothlorien @ayamenimthiriel @sleepilysworld @midiplier @leonphumes @kl0ng5ki3 @possibly--possessed @kashasenpai
I loved Duck Hunt, too! I was crap at it, though, so I probably shouldn't be trusted with a gun either.
Let's pour one out for our lost boyfriend Luis. Still plot relevant after all these years!
Raul experimented on his own mother? I mean, I get the desperation after she was killed, but...he just kept her around even after it didn't really work? I'm curious how much of that was grief and how much of that was just...data collection.
“Do you blow a lot of things up?” Yes, yes he does, Cait. I can't even bring myself to watch that YouTube video that calculates how much money Leon has cost the US government over the years. I'd rather just imagine the DSO's accounting department constantly wringing their hands and their director suggesting that maybe let some other DSO agent handle a mission...please like any other agent.
I LOVE all the small touches between these two! Obviously not intended as anything romantic (yet), but it's so telling that Leon is already noticing how Cait is reciprocating his caring for her in a way that he isn't used to. I also love that this doesn't mean Leon is either pulling away or escalating: he's just noticing and enjoying the caring.
And good on Cait for not letting Leon be too self-deprecating. I mean, think of all of the weird puzzles that he has had to solve over the years just to open a door!
If I had $14 million dollars lying around, I'd consider buying myself a guard licker. Very interesting that they were asleep, though. You'd think if you had guard lickers, you'd want them to actually guard things. I wonder if this was intentional on Raul's part or if he was just too busy to remember them. Sigh...if only I had enough money to not worry about losing my $14 million dollar guard licker.
Wait! I think if we just rearrange things in the inventory we can fit the shorts!
Summary: Leon Kennedy is on a job. Just a job. Yes, there's zombies. But sometimes, when you know your work, very little surprises you. Especially when you've been at this over a decade. So he was not expecting much from this job-- which is why the Firehouse's unusually large zombie hoarde made him curious. What were the trying to get at? Why was it blinking and...warm? Leon discovers a Safe Haven box with a newborn baby boy in it and demands Ingrid get a doctor on the comms...now. Despite the less than ideal conditions he can't help but feel attached to the orphan he pulled out of hell...the same way he had been as a baby.
RATING: PG 13 overall, R in some spaces. This is not as horror-forward as the others.
Warnings: none really? This is Resident Evil so prepare yourselves for SOME RE style horror but this is overwhelmingly a fluff piece
Word Count: 4000
A/N: You guys love fluffy domestic Leon so much, I was worried you would all think this was silly. There's not much BIG drama in here. There's going to be a bit, but mostly this is soft hours.
Author Masterlist -- Leon Kennedy Masterlist
Your townhouse, at 6am this morning, had not expected any of this activity today. There was a package waiting for you– you’d ordered a new drying rack. Nothing exciting. Your old one was just a bit wobbly and it bothered you so last night you’d looked through far too many drying racks and settled on one.
That was supposed to be your evening.
When you got to your place the baby was crying and you fussed with your keys, getting the door, putting the baby inside the house, rushing back to the car for a pack of diapers and some wipes and hoping that was the immediate problem.
You took him out of the carrier and laid a blanket on the floor– at least your floor was clean. You usually vacuumed every other day so there was minimal dirt and you didn’t have a pet so there was nothing here to worry about.
But you had exactly zero inkling this morning that there would be a baby here tonight or that the most attractive agent in the DSO would be en route with take out. You’d vacuumed but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember if there were dishes in the sink or an overflowing bathroom garbage can or if you’d left things air-drying on the line you had in your laundry closet.
You changed the baby and he was still crying, so you left him on the floor and took a minute to haul more of his things in using the diaper bag that was poorly packed and still had a tag on it. You didn’t really know Sherry Birkin, but she had put the baby in a Mickey Mouse onesie and the diaper bag was Winnie the Pooh themed and seemed horrifically over-decorated for a baby bag– you’d had probably picked up utilitarian black. Still, it was cute, it was big, she had stuffed diapers and wipes and pacifiers and bottles all in it. She had gotten him a raccoon blanket teether– you’d not seen them in action but they were at the stores. Just a stuffed head on a baby-safe teething blanket. He was too small to really care about things like that but you put it next to his head as you shushed, “Shh, shh, let me get one of the bottles out, wait a minute…if you’re so impatient it won’t be warm.”
Someone knocked on the door and you just shouted, “It’s open!”
“What if I was a masked assailant, huh?” Leon came in with two big bags of take out and took in the situation, “At least I’m at the right place. Do you need a hand?”
“I got him, just— food on the table or the counter, I’m really sorry I have no memory of how clean I left the place.” You finally got a bottle and were picking up the baby and getting him into the right position.
“Better than mine! They once confused it with the model and showed it to like eight different prospective tenants before they realized they’d switched the apartment numbers. Only comment was they hadn’t taken the garbage out and it was starting to smell.”
“Take it you aren’t ever in it long?” You felt easier now, the bottle had taken the baby’s whole interest and he was sucking away happily.
“I just…I look at the stuff. I don’t know where to put it. I leave it in boxes, then I’m working and it just feels like a bad cycle.” He shrugged, “Uh, do you like bowls or plates– your hands are full. Tell me where it is and I can set you up. I didn’t know what you liked so I got a lot of stuff, don’t be shy.”
“You eat, I have him. If you finish maybe you can take him while I eat?”
Leon already had noodles in his mouth, “Sounds good.”
He was looking around the townhouse and trying to make small talk between his mouthfuls, and he suddenly found he was starving so he was demolishing a fair bit of the food, “Nice place. When did you move?”
“Uh, to D.C.? I guess about six years ago. Before that I was a pediatric ICU lead in Chicago before that. I went to school and did rotations at Johns Hopkins. So lots of moving.”
“How do you like D.C.?”
“It’s ok. Bit busy but I can’t justify moving somewhere quieter and taking the longer commute right now. It’s, uh, just me. So. Why the fuss, right?”
Leon nodded at the baby, “I mean now it’s you and, uh, what’re we calling him?”
“Fosters don’t name them.”
“Why?”
“That’s for adopters. Fosters are caretakers, but they aren’t parents.”
Leon was puzzling that and shoving an entire spring roll in his mouth. The baby was nearly done with his bottle but he still looked hungry, you were eyeing the next little one you had and wondering if you should already be increasing his food.
“So what is he? Like legally?”
“John Doe.”
“No. Like an unidentified body?”
“I mean technically he is one. Just has a pulse.”
Leon walked over and covered one of the baby’s ears with his free hand, “Don’t listen to her, bud. She doesn’t mean that.”
“I mean…I kinda do.” You shrugged, “I don’t…I mean. I get it. We don’t want to call him Baby but John Doe feels cold. And a bit body in the morgue adjacent, even if it is technically the right answer.”
“I mean, I don’t really want to…John Doe.” Leon shivered, “Makes me think something’s wrong with him.”
“J.D.?” You offered and said, “Could be John Doe, could be Jack Daniels, could be a lot of things.”
“J.D.” Leon sampled it in his mouth and then chomped on a dumpling, “I like it, works for now. What do you think bud?”
The baby was asleep and you chuckled, “Well it’s not a condemnation at least.”
Even though he was sleeping you put him over your shoulder and started the burping process as Leon shoveled a few more mouthfuls in and offered his hands, “Here, I’ll take him for this.”
You put the baby on his shoulder then reached for a blanket, “Hang on, put this under him. He might spit up.”
“Peed on me today too. You aren’t related to my old boot camp officer, are you J.D.?”
“I should get the cri–”
“Eat. You’ve gotta be starving, you’ve been on your feet all day.” Leon encouraged you and you gestured to him.
“I mean you were in and out of multiple states and a zombie infection, aren’t you tired?”
“Oh it’ll hit me. Like a ton of bricks. Still a bit off from that though, the adrenaline takes a while to wear off.” He nodded to your food, “Eat. Few things I believe in but eating while the food is hot is one of them.”
You nodded, “Thank you…really. For everything. This…this has got to be the craziest day I’ve ever had.”
“Top three for me.” He agreed.
You were chewing and watching him, but his face was blank and open. He wasn’t guarded, he was gently swinging himself back and forth, rocking the baby with his whole body.
“What are the others?” You nearly whispered it, afraid it was an overstep, but Leon looked at your face and smiled.
“Uh, well, Raccoon City, definitely. But I would say this one is nicer. Lot nicer than that. Zombies in both places and all but the outcomes…I like this outcome better.” Leon rubbed the baby’s back– as much for himself right then as for the baby– and sighed, “And uh, this thing in Spain.”
“Spain?”
“Spain was a whole thing.” Leon shook his head, “But I was on this job. Was it a job that I particularly liked? No. I was alone, it was stealth, it was annoying, it was hard. It managed, somehow, to put me through my paces in ways I just…didn’t expect. And then it was over, or it seemed like it was over. And someone…someone had a chance to come with me. They didn’t. I dunno…one of those things that you don’t forget about in a hurry. They turned and left me there, still on the job, still hurt, still in danger, and sometimes what comes after that doesn’t matter. In that moment they let me down.”
He was avoiding something. Details were being covered there, like a wound that had a delicate scab, and he was clearly not into poking at it. You could understand that and you just nodded, “So in your wider zombie experience this is really the best possible outcome?”
“I mean…” The baby whined and moved around, making Leon freeze and look at you with concern but you nodded at him.
“Gas– keep rubbing his back.”
“You really know babies.”
“I liked working in the infant ward. I mean…he’s a healthy baby. I worked with sick babies. This? This is a good outcome, you know? Like I’ve seen very sick babies. He’s alone, he doesn’t have people, but he’s healthy.”
“He’s alive.” Leon added, “You asked about outcomes? I…Alive is a good outcome. It’s a really good outcome.”
“I understand that.” You nodded, “Different, I’m sure, but I get that – alive is a really good outcome.”
“How did you handle that?” He shook his head, “Sick kids?”
“It’s hard, but sometimes when work is hard and you can do it, you do it because plenty of people feel they can’t.” You squinted, “Wait, did that make sense? It’s the part of the day where sometimes I think I make more sense than I do.”
“No that made perfect sense.” Leon rubbed the baby’s back until a massive belch emerged– so loud Leon jumped and went, “Jesus Christ…and that’s normal?”
“Wait until the poops start.”
“What’s the issue with the poops?”
“Do you like mustard?”
“On hotdogs, sure.”
“It’ll change that for you.”
Leon looked confused but it made you laugh a little and you finished your food, “If you’re good with him I should work on the crib–”
“Yeah, yeah, he and I are old pals, aren’t we J.D.?” Leon looked around at your apartment and he was conscious of the fact that his looked pared down and barren in contrast. Definitely a bachelor pad, “I’m not…intruding, am I? Because I’m happy to help but I don’t want to overstep–”
“No it’s fine, I was…” You rubbed a hand over your face hoping it hid the embarrassment and the stutter, “I was going to say the same thing. If I’m keeping you, please, you’ve been really helpful. And let me know what I owe you for dinner–”
“Hey, you have my baby boy here, dinner seems like the least I can do.” Leon followed you into the other room where the crib box was looming, “Here I’ll carry this wherever you want it, just say the word.”
“Um…ok the word is I don’t think my bedroom is particularly clean but my spare room is just an office and –”
“I promise you that you can’t be dirtier than me.” He shifted the baby and the blanket to you and picked up the crib box like it was made of cardboard, “I live alone. I have fish. The fish have yet to help clean.”
“This way then–”
You definitely felt a sting of embarrassment bringing this particularly handsome specimen of man into your room. The bed wasn’t made but you were able to pull the comforter flat enough and told him to put the box on the side by the window, “I sleep on that side.”
Leon thought that was odd– you’d mentioned that you lived alone, “Used to sharing?” You seemed to get embarrassed and he quickly tried to recover the ground, “Sorry– I open my mouth and stupid comes out, especially at the end of the day.”
“No it’s fine…I’m divorced.”
“Sorry–”
“It’s fine, I probably shouldn’t still be…you know. Stung. It’s been a little while. I just…creature of habit, I guess.”
He made a mental note to run that whole thing by Rebecca who would be able to give him better notes on how to handle it.
“It’s ok to not be over someone even if it seems pretty obvious to all involved that you should. That’s something I know a lot about.” His voice was so soft and smooth that you actually felt it reversing your nerves. It felt like he understood that statement, like he understood that feeling, like he might also be the type to struggle with surrendering your partner’s side of the bed.
You definitely felt like he was something of a companion in that breed of suffering– someone had broken this man’s heart and he was slow to repair that damage. This man with the body of an athlete and the face of a model and a mission completion record that had men in the building sweating over him. You didn’t understand a lot of that– it wasn’t your side of things. You understood though that as assets went Leon was considered one of the DSO’s most important. He was the top of his field. He had destroyed several outbreak sites with the potential for global spread and he had done so with the equivalent of Boy Scout skills and a Nerf gun– said many of the nurses who spent more time salivating over it.
You just knew that he was good at what he did, and you also knew he’d always been kind to you (granted– today you had spent more total time with him than in all previous encounters). You also knew that on that mission he had saved a baby he could’ve walked from.
“Thanks, that’s…that’s really kind of you. Sometimes I feel like I’m being a bit of a baby about it.” You handed him back the baby and said, “Here, let me get to the crib. He’s tired, you’re tired, I’m tired and I haven’t had as much sleep deprivation as I’m about to have since residency.”
“I’m pretty good with sleep deprivation. Most of the time on missions you don’t sleep until it’s over, unless you’re unconscious.” Leon looked at the baby, “How bad can it be?”
You emptied the box of its parts and looked at him, “Three hours is lucky, an hour and a half is unlucky. Rinse and repeat for the next few months.”
“What happens in a few months?”
“The next big hormonal shift in his body which presses reset on things like circadian rhythms so at 3 months, 6 months, 9 months, and a year you get these big changes to sleep cycle.”
Leon blinked, “For a full year?”
“Bet your missions don’t go on that long?”
“Three days, five if we’re having trouble.” He admitted, “Shi–shoot. That’s…and you’re planning on doing this solo?”
“Well not much of a choice.” You referenced the room with your hands.
“How did you get into, what’s this called? Fostering? Did you get into it because of the hospital you used to work at?”
“No, but the hospital gave me the idea. We had babies from the system come in, often causing a rotation in foster parent and guardian which created a lapse in care. That was a massive pain in the ass. People would say sure we want to foster and sometimes they didn’t realize that could mean getting a baby who was weaning off of heroin.”
Leon’s eyes went wide, “They leave them? But…”
“Yeah.” You felt sharp, “Because they’re crying a lot, they don’t calm down like J.D., and they struggle with food, and they often have other conditions. Most fosters are saints. They take in kids for unpredictable amounts of time. They give so much to it. Some people start by suggesting they’d like to help and it becomes clear they only want to help with easy kids. Most kids in the system aren’t easy, and it’s because they’re in the system. I just…even if Richtner hadn’t said something? I’d have tried to make sure he went to a house. The time in between? The shelters? They’re overcrowded, underfunded…certainly with a baby it can cause them to have long periods where nobody is changing them or holding them and…I mean look at him. Like any baby he just needs to be held, feel safe, feel clean, feel fed. They aren’t complex, but that doesn’t mean this is easy.”
“So you really just wanted to help? Signed up to make sure the kids weren’t alone?”
“Well technically as their doctor it wouldn’t have been allowed– conflict of interests. I…I was having trouble in my marriage. My husband was really big on having kids. Really big. And we just had trouble and I thought fostering would really help? But it wound up being something that made him angry. He didn’t want other people’s kids in his house, he wanted his own, and he was just…frustrated.” You threw the parts of the crib down for a moment.
“Jackass.” Leon spat without thinking. He looked genuinely mad, “I…I got taken in. I don’t…I don’t know if that’s in my work medical file. Or if you’d…but yeah.”
“Really?”
“Really, though I don’t know that my dad– uh, my…well, Bill.” Leon shook his head, “My parents died. For a long time that’s just how Bill left it. Bill was a cop, he was called to the scene of a potential crime, and he got there and it was a real crime and they were dead and he was securing the house and found me in my room, I’d slept through it. I was three. He said they offered to take me to a shelter but apparently he’d done enough work in Chicago at that point that he was well aware of shelters and told them that he was just taking me. Though you’re making it sound like maybe that was…this side of legal. He had a spare room and his wife had died of cancer earlier in the year so he just…sorta kept me. For the next fifteen years. He never cared I was someone else’s he…that’s my dad.”
You looked at him with real interest, “Really?”
“Yeah, I mean…I could never walk away from this little guy, not until I knew he was safe. Because someone did that for me once, and it made all the difference.”
You had a really soft look on your face and nodded, “I’m glad you think so…no wonder you offered to help.”
“Dad always said it would’ve been easier with another pair of hands, but he was never going to replace Connie, his wife. She sounded really nice.” He shifted J.D.’s position a little and nodded to the crib parts, “How’s it going down there?”
If the carseat directions tested you, the crib directions would’ve been fit to send you to the looney bin.
“This is fucking ridiculous.”
“What’s the difference between this and a–” Leon walked to the door to look at the other box in the living room that Sherry had made him buy, “pack and play?”
“I assume something sensible but I gotta be honest? He’s tired? I’m not really caring about the difference if he has somewhere to sleep. Pack and plays take no effort to set up.”
Leon offered you the baby, “I’m good with my hands…let me take a swing at it.”
You took the baby, “I really really appreciate i–”
“Please. My pleasure. Really. No trouble at all.”
It felt like it could be trouble.
This wasn’t easy, and it was entirely optional.
But maybe that’s the part that made it the right thing to do. You held the baby and he started fussing. You got him changed, gave him a bottle, and watched as Leon put the crib together piece by piece. When it was done he said, “Does he need sheets?”
“I think they’re in the bag but for now– just take the blanket off me and—” As Leon moved to take the blanket J.D. moved his head to the side and simply let loose a stream of vomit that was wet and felt like too much for a baby to have in him. It was, you knew, perfectly normal, but Leon’s face screwed up in horror.
“Oh man!”
“Yeah– yeah I told you. Vomit. They can’t process gas, vomit is one of the many fun side effects…” You stayed still for a minute and said, “Ok he doesn’t seem like he’s waking up from it–”
“Is that normal?”
“Did you never wake up in your own puke in college?”
“I went to the Police Academy instead of college…so no.”
“Oh.” You shrugged, “Well yes, he’s fine. He doesn’t have to wake up as long as he’s breathing and he is. But grab a clean blanket from the bag and put it down on the crib mattress.”
When Leon had it done you said, “Ok, this is the tricky part…babies who are sleeping well on someone’s body might not be as happy in a crib. I’m going to put him down, if he fusses can you just put a hand on his back and see if that helps? Because I’m going to want to change this shirt–”
“And take a shower? It’s in your hair.”
“Yeah and go get this out of my hair.” You confirmed, “Is that ok? Are you alright to watch him? I can be quick.”
“Yeah no problem….ok on the count of three?” Leon joked.
J.D. did start stirring and crying when you put him down but Leon put a hand on him, pulling the crib against an armchair in your room so he could sit with his arm hanging over the edge.
“I got him, go shower.”
True to your word you hurried in the shower but your hair had caught more of the vomit than you wished and the smell of it– chunky rotten milk – was absolutely disgusting so you not only washed it twice but when you came out you spent a moment considering just how to keep it out of the baby’s way. If you were fifteen minutes you’d have been shocked but when you came out in fresh clothes and stepped into your room both J.D. and Leon were sound asleep– J.D. in his crib, and Leon sitting in your chair with one hand on the baby and the other propping up his head.
You wondered if you should wake him but you remembered logic from the nurses you’d worked with– sleep when it’s quiet, because it will get loud.
So you laid on top of your sheets, ready to get up, and closed your eyes. You thought that given a man you barely knew was in your house that you’d sleep poorly but you weren’t tempted to wake him. You found that babies were a better judge of character than dogs and you’d never seen a baby rest easily on the chest of a person with a bad heart. More than once you and the nurses had predicted a divorce or a parent that decided they actually didn’t want to parent anymore. Babies sensed bad intentions and the fact that J.D. had slept against Leon with kevlar in-between them counted with you, so Leon had to have an extra aura of comfort to make a baby sleep against metal. If that baby could sleep against him, you could sleep with him in the room, safe in the knowledge that nothing could get you– to nebulous bad guy would wheedle in here while Leon was waiting– and maybe that was part of his plan, though you weren’t sure falling asleep on your couch had been a plan so much as a happy accident.
It was fine, though, really, and you weren’t one to easily adjust to change.
So your head hit the pillow and you were out— not for long, but you were out for now.
A/N: Also-- it will be made clearer later but J.D. is not white-- I think of him as Latino. Not only will Leon be raising a baby that is not his, but it doesn't remotely look like him and he couldn't care less, that's his boy.
Not Beta Read. We edit 6 months later at 2am.
Resident Evil regulars, I'm new here! I don't know your tags well, help a girl out and RB please. I see several RE communities but have no idea who takes fanfiction-- help a girl out.
So I updated with speed like I was being stalked by Mr. X and have done nearly 100k on Leon in a month. I don't know. There are other stories on the Leon Masterlist (it's linked up top)
First, Do No Harm (complete) Leon x Reader (slowburn, wife)
Resident Evil Miami: A DLC style fic where Leon meets his wife (an OC but very reader adjacent)
Tags (from the new list) Let me know if you want to be added! @indiegirlunited @spadesjadesfiction @harriedandharassed @avidreader73 @itsrubberbisquit @amneris21 @iceclaw101 @thelion-sroar @ferns-fics @tintinn16 @vabeachazn @brandyllyn @felteppsers @missladym1981 @stealyourblorbos @felteppsters @mostclevermiss @elegantduckturtle @100percentlazybonez @aliwritesfic-main @modiddys-blog @qardasngan @julesandgems @devilslittlehelper @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @superunkn0wn @thiskingdomwillendure @deo-data @anfervaldez @ionlypartiallyslay @sunshine-angel08 @ladylothlorien @ayamenimthiriel @sleepilysworld @midiplier @leonphumes @kl0ng5ki3 @possibly--possessed @kashasenpai
Ah, ye olde pack-n-play, how I sort of miss you lol. But wow have you really captured how it feels to have a newborn that you technically know how to care for but also don't know how to care for because all babies are different and they refuse to provide their own instruction manual. I feel that exhaustion in my bones.
I love how well they are working together now too! I know I've mentioned before how Leon is really good at team-ups (one of my favorite parts of Death Island was the immediate way he and Jill were able to work together without even having to talk things through), and I'm so pleased to see that this extends beyond bioterrorism incidents to caring for newborn babies. It feels very in character for him to just automatically apply his skills to any situation, even if it's very far from what his training actually covered. On a separate note, I have some IKEA furniture that I need Leon to assemble.....
Also, I LOVE the easy way they are both sharing somewhat difficult parts of their own history with each other. It's coming up naturally in the course of their conversation, and neither of them are shying away from it. It's also cool that they both arrived at similar places with regards to why they are caring for J.D. but from different paths.
Are YOU gonna let THE GOVERNMENT tell YOU what YOUR GENDER is? That doesn't sound like Life Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness to me! PROTECT your individual FREEDOMS and call your senator: we want the GOVERNMENT to stay OUT OF OUR PANTS! GENDER FREEDOM NOW!
Two men in your neighborhood are married... to EACH OTHER? Congratulate them for exercising their AMERICAN RIGHT to follow the footsteps of our FOUNDING FATHERS! They've got a fully AMERICAN spirit of FREEDOM and REBELLION! GOD BLESS THE USA.
Your coworker has a different RELIGION from yours? Well, that's just INTERESTING and you should talk about it on your UNION-APPROVED LUNCH BREAK. The UNITED STATES OF AMERICA was FOUNDED on Freedom of Religion and ANYONE should be allowed to seek the AMERICAN DREAM!
You think someone might be in this GREAT country ILLEGALLY? NO YOU DON'T! No one is in this country illegally! The minute anyone steps on our SOVEREIGN SOIL they're your FELLOW AMERICAN and where they come from is NO ONES BUSINESS.
