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just your resident smol b(ara) | @makarakaja | ko-fi.com/hihazuki

[favdaff]

Thunderbolt waltz

[effemira]

coworkers/friends with benefits but both parties are so in love yet so oblivious it hurts

[gompgoomp]

theylmake me so so sick

[cocofetti]

Some of y’all act like basic manners, general human decency, and kindness to others is SO MUCH emotional labor. I don’t like that shit.

[m0untainslut]

this age of thinking you don’t owe anyone anything in the name of “protecting your energy” there are many other ways of protecting ur energy without being a total ass to others. yall. do better.

[the-hanged-man-ao3]

Hey I’m Grey and I’m primarily a Resident Evil author/artist. Most of what I post is Chreon, but I’m a multi shipper so you will also be seeing some Metaltango and Aeon from me. For art I tend to enjoy creating light hearted and silly stuff, but for writing I generally focus on darker themes such as depression, alcoholism, emotional dependency, unhealthy relationship dynamics, body horror and so on.

I love music a lot with Metal/Rock/Alternative being the primary genres I listen to. Sleep Token is my favorite band right now and their music is a big emotion/tone inspiration for my current writing. Shinedown and Beartooth are my other big two. I play a moderate amount of video games and read from time to time.

I’m really new to tumblr from xitter so I’m still getting my bearings, thank you for your patience.

[somnicordia]

4 5

by TheHangedMan

XVI. America Burning

[[ chreon, aeon, past! chrisker, metaltango, rated e, 16/45, 8k]]

There were a hundred different protests that rose up and died in the back of Claire’s throat. Chris had trained her— she’d proven herself to be more than ‘a kid barely out of highschool’! She balled up her fists and squared her shoulders, staring down Jill like it might have been an even fight. “Please… Claire.” Chris cut in, the rage having seeped out of his voice. “I’m not keeping you out of this to spite you.” “Then why are you?” Claire spun, feeling hot, angry tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. God, she hated that her gut instinct was to cry when things went wrong. This was not going to make her seem as strong as she needed them to think she was.

“You guys are leaving tomorrow?” Claire stood, taking another drink of her beer before placing down on a coaster.

“Yeah. We’re following a trail of weapons dealers that might be in possession of the T-Veronica virus from Rockfort. If we can find them, their trail might lead back to—“ Suddenly, Chris halted in his tracks, eyes open and fixed on the ceiling.

Wesker.

Claire hadn’t been there for their fight, but she had seen the facility collapse in on itself. When Chris had told her he knew without a doubt that Wesker had survived— that he’d become something less than human— it had been hard to believe, but she’d had no other choice. Her brother wouldn’t lie about something like that.

Besides, he was haunted by it.

Claire could see it eating at him. It wasn’t quite an obsession, but it was nearing it. The new workout routine and the bulking were a product of it. He’d probably put on ten pounds of pure muscle since Antarctica and there was no sign of stopping there. Since he quit smoking, he smelled more like protein powder than cigarette smoke.

“It’s fine. Confidential information and all that. I get it.” Claire opened the fridge door as she verbally closed another. The small, but colorful, cake was in her hand, withdrawn from the nearly empty fridge. All these little things were connected. Wesker’s name wasn’t the only one that was becoming difficult for her brother to speak.

“Yeah, sorry.” Even from where she stood in the kitchen, she could see Chris fidgeting.

Her eyes focused on him and slowly it became clear that he was looking for something. Broad hands patted at the fabric of his pants, checking the back and then the sides. Abruptly, his hand sank into the right hand side pocket, fingers curling around his target. Then the hand withdrew and opened, fingers blooming out like flower petals.

There, cradled gingerly in his cupped hand, held as if it were fragile as glass, was a single small, brass bullet. Already smashed, like it had been fired once before.

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[somnicordia]

hosted the chreon server's very first drawpile!! we were brought together by our love of old man yaoi... it was a blast to be drawing with so many talented artists!!

[somnicordia]

day 4 & 5: really want to kiss you / missing you, always

[diobrandass]

I feel like people don't acknowledge the rollercoaster turbulence of feelings that Chris Redfield must experience. Yeah, technically RE6 kinda gave a half assed view into his trauma, but aside from that, particularly within the fanbase, he's never really left the big macho stereotype that he's typically assigned to. He's actually an incredibly interesting character behind the action scenes and it's why I loved the scene in DI, where his lips tremble as he listens to Claire almost die next to him. Chris has culminated more than a lifetime of horrific trauma and it's made him into a reluctant (fear-based) but extremely empathetic person. We get tidbits of this through his interactions with Piers, Jill and Leon but it's wholly ignored on a large scale. He's got so much to pick apart and analyse as a typical male action hero, who is actually extremely vulnerable and continuously chooses ethics and love! But it's unappreciated and not talked about and it drives me crazy. Imagine what he could represent through unpacking toxic masculinity. Think about the potential he would have if fans just... paid attention to the things written between the lines! He could be incredible.

[somnicordia]

4 5

by TheHangedMan

XIII. Addicted To Pain

[[ chreon, aeon, past! chrisker, metaltango, rated e, 13/25, 8k ]]

“Are you not afraid to die?”

The question came from nowhere, harder than the punch in the gut he’d gotten earlier that night. No emotion was laced with the words, nor did his body language give anything away, but it was enough without that.

Leon inhaled, contemplating his answer. No matter how he thought about it, it would be unsatisfactory.

“No.”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking. I want to reorganize your division— place you directly under my command.” A big smile stretched across his lips. “I don’t think the previous administration was aggressive enough in squashing the bio weapon threat. It’s festered for far too long.”

“What would that mean for us?” Leon furrowed his brows.

“Nothing just yet.” President Graham replied simply. “The changes will take place over the coming years. We’ll probably relocate you. I’ll get you your own office, maybe a secretary. I’d rather have you all close.”

Again, Leon’s life would be uprooted, not that he much enjoyed the one he had now. Still, this was more turmoil, more uncertainty. What other choice did he have but to accept it?

“If that’s what you think is best, sir.” Leon gave his half hearted approval.

“There will be more opportunities for work abroad. It’ll be exciting, I’m certain.” Graham assured him, not noticing the reluctance behind Leon’s words. “You’ve come very highly recommended. I’ve heard you’re a man who gets results.”

What choice did Leon have but to deliver?

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[somnicordia]

feeling very soft after death island... among other things...

[somnicordia]

4 5

by TheHangedMan

X. Rain

XI. Take Me Back to Eden

[[ chreon, rated m, 11/25 ]]

Right as he was about to pass Chris, however, a firm hand grabbed onto his bicep. Leon faltered. "Chris?" "Just," Chris' eyes were scrunched shut, almost like he was injured. When he opened them again, they glistened. "Just stay safe, alright?" Something ached deep within, a stinging throb he couldn't explain. As Leon opened his mouth to say something, anything, the train groaned and shuddered again, physically jolting them apart. "Don't worry," Leon rasped. "I'll be back before you know it."

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[somnicordia]

ready for july 4th 🫡

[somnicordia]

4 5

by TheHangedMan

VIII. Every Lie

[[ chreon, aeon/past!chrisker, rated m, 8/25, 10k ]]

When Ada spoke, there was no hint of regret nor animosity. Her voice was even, clinical. Even if the words themselves were lies, truth rang out in the manner in which Ada spoke them. She didn’t begrudge her situation or her lot in life. “Okay.” Claire’s response fell flat, mind too busy trying to decode the unsettling feeling Ada’s words always left her with. Ada’s eyes focused on Claire, studying her like a hawk would a rodent.

“When’s the last time you slept?”

Chris jerked his head up, awoken from his daze. His eyes were bloodshot as they regarded Claire. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are.” She crossed her arms. “Walk with me.”

There it was, the sideways glance backwards— the way Chris’ shoulders sagged when he looked at Leon.

“He’ll be fine for ten minutes. Annette’s watching him.”

It took more convincing, but finally Chris was on his feet trailing after Claire as she stepped out of the room. Ada remained in the waiting room, giving them the smallest of looks as they passed her by, but she said nothing even as they left her behind. Claire wanted to be out of earshot of everyone, but her especially.

“What’s going on with you?” Claire’s footsteps came to a halt just outside of the facility, thirty paces away from the monorail that had brought them there. It was reminiscent of the last time they’d talked, just the two of them. The situation had changed since then.

A cigarette was back in Chris’ hand, his fingers searching for a lighter Claire already knew he didn’t have. When he came up short, the cigarette was returned to his pants pocket. He was tired. “Nothing.”

“You’re not accomplishing anything by losing sleep over this. I can watch him if you’re worried about Annette or Ada—“ Claire felt her volume rising steadily, cut short only by the wave of Chris’ hand.

“I’m not worried about them doing anything.” His eyelids hung heavy and his five o’clock shadow was coming in dark on his dirt splattered face.

“Then what?”

“I’m afraid he’s going to take a turn for the worse when I’m not there.” He wouldn’t look at her.

Claire felt her heart drop into her stomach. This was familiar. The days of lost sleep, the painfully familiar thrum of machines. Chris’ tired, quiet grieving.

“He’s not Dad.” It felt like a knife to say as much out loud.

“I— I know. He’s going to get better.” Chris’ hand dragged over his face as if trying to wipe away his expression. He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply like he was blowing out smoke.

The emotions passed over Chris’ face like rippling waves. There one moment, gone the next, replaced by something fresh but equally as damning. Here he was, her big stubborn older brother, trying and failing to keep everything to himself.

“You like him.”

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[somnicordia]

"I'm going to regret this."

[somnicordia]

4 5

by TheHangedMan

VII. Atlantic

Fire. The world was on fire. He watched with glassy eyes as the flames engulfed yet another of the humanoid plant undead, catching the blaze like a tinderbox. The chemical flamethrower worked like a charm on them, steam and smoke in equal measure rising from the charred remains of their corpses. They had been terrifying at first, rising continually no matter how many bullets he and Chris loaded into them. But now the only scary thing about them was the thought of running out of fuel for the flamethrower. Leon could feel the heat cascading off of the creature as its final death throes filled the air. It was familiar. How old had he been? Six? No, Seven.

The other man’s lips thinned to a line, his eyes studying Leon silently. “What are you looking for?”

He knew. He already knew.

Leon felt his arms go slack. He averted his gaze to the ground. If Chris already knew then why was he asking? To watch Leon squirm?

Metal clinked heavily in Chris’ hand, the gun almost appearing small in Chris’ grip. In the palm of his other hand, a single 45 caliber bullet rested. Metal, gunpowder, death. It was nothing and it was everything.

“What is this?” The tone in Chris’ voice spoke volumes more than the question itself.

“It’s nothi—“

“It’s not nothing.” Chris cut in, frown deepening. “You won’t use the gun, you’ll hardly even look at it. There’s only one bullet inside. I have more, but you won’t use them.” The volume in Chris’ voice was rising, anger leaking into the words. “This gun could have been the difference between life and death with that Licker if I hadn’t been fast enough. Is this some sort of revenge thing?”

“No.” Leon jumped to defend himself, turning his gaze up just enough to look at Chris’ chin. He still couldn’t meet the man’s eye.

“Then what?” Chris’ grip closed around the bullet, a tremor running through his fist. “What’s more important than being alive?”

A weight settled like lead on Leon’s chest, his mouth hanging open pathetically as he searched for the words to delay this inevitable conversation again. He came up short.

“I killed Lieutenant Branagh with that gun.”

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[somnicordia]

4 5

by TheHangedMan

VI. Greatness or Death

[[ chreon, 6/18, rated M, side aeon ]]

She’d kissed him. On the rail car, in front of everyone. The warmth was in his cheeks. The taste of her sweet like honey, still lingering on his lips. It had been chaste and yet, he was weightless. Even the ache in his shoulder felt like it was receding. “I think Ada likes me.” Chris said nothing.

Shoulder to shoulder they walked, most undead already cleared out of the hallways they’d previously traversed. There was no need to exercise the same degree of caution. Just the two of them and Leon’s desperate attempts to redirect the conversation.

“I still have car payments left on my Jeep. I hope she’s okay. What do you think the chances are of me going back to get her before they light this place up?” A pained smile inched its way onto his face.

Something grim slipped its way onto Chris’ expression. “Hopefully that’s no time soon.”

It was always something else. The world really was going to end before any of them got to live through the year 2000. “Yeah, I still haven’t gotten that Ducati yet. Need to live long enough to save for one.”

“Didn’t take you for a motorcycle type of guy.” Chris raised an eyebrow, interest sparking. “Guess I could imagine you on one.”

Warmth bloomed in Leon’s gut and an easy smile took shape on his face. “I have to admit, I don’t know a lot about them. But maybe Claire could help point me in the right direction if we keep in contact after this.”

“You think she wouldn’t? You must not have heard the way my sister talked about you.” Chris let out a deep laugh that bordered on just a little too loud. It was a nice sound, though, and Leon found he didn’t really care if the undead a few rooms over heard it too. “Besides, we've been through too much together already. Once we get Jill out of here, let me introduce you to what’s left of S.T.A.R.S.”

Leon didn’t miss the way Chris’ voice tripped over the words.

“It’ll be all backyard cookouts and cold beer.” The good natured sarcasm dripped off his tongue. “Are you any good with a grill, Redfield?”

“I’ve been told I make a mean hot dog. What about you? Any hobbies?” Chris’ body turned towards him more fully, pulling closer to him.

It should not have made Leon feel the way that he did.

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