#residentevilremake

[anabelreinaart]

Luis Sera, from Resident Evil 4 Remake.

[3dways]

Resident Evil Remake: arrowhead/golden arrow video presentation

[lindsayfrazerdraws]

[xxsynthetic-ecstasyxx]

"When I awoke...hatred became my master."

[invincible-heaven]

Oh HELL no

[ninakaina]

give me your bad grief thoughts of the day :}

canonically artemy calls rubin his best friend but grief calls artemy his best friend and that’s just embarrassing for everyone except rubin

[emmy024]

That afternoon he decided to put his memory to work and looked back at the past. The weeks went by extremely fast in his opinion. It appeared yesterday when he heard the good news. It seemed like yesterday when they communicated the great news to their friends and made the little baby shower. It appeared yesterday when the whole team was preparing to leave. However, the reality was different: all this already happened several weeks ago. No one saw it coming. Not even the signs. Nothing. How did it happen? A traitor on the team? Did they take them as bait just to test abominations with them? If they had told him earlier, he would have burst out laughing; still, everything was true: everything happened. How weird, huh? There was no euphoria for "the little new member"? Did no one have an appointment that cannot be postponed? A procedure with the doctor? The exhaustive training with the pleasant Kendo? Not anymore, never again. Sometimes realizing the truth would throw everything to the ground. He felt nauseous as he gulped down some coffee; he found it lukewarm and without strength, like the spirit in his house. In his life. He fell asleep on the glories of being a future father; all that took its toll on him. He precisely noticed weeks ago when he returned to his residence after breaking his spouse's heart. At the damned police station, after returning home with the sun high in the summer sky, it was there that he notified her of the sad reality.

That perfect morning, bright and clear, he saw the woman of his life crumble. He was responsible. Someone had to tell him, lift the veil that all her dearest friends died. Was Chris Redfield going to report it? The same jerk who threatened to just throw it to her? Tactless? No: it was his duty as a man and husband. It was his way of protecting her and his unborn daughter. From that wretched day she stayed away from him. Touching her was part of a wild dream, where her gorgeous light golden hair danced in the wind. The Emmy who for so many years helped and cared for disappeared, supplanting her by a taciturn liar who secretly cried in the room of his future heir. In a way he longed for that old eternal dream. Professing love and being a recipient of affection. Feel her perfume when he embraces her, kiss her delicate lips when matters were going well or badly; feel her body tremble in response to his frantic love. Brad missed what it was, refusing to accept that everything changed on July 23rd. Something cruel hung over his shoulders that day: guilt over his fear. He left without looking back as the flashback took him back to the wicked accident, sitting in that military transport, plowing through the inhospitable Iraqi roads to his next target. Could he prevent it? No, not even the best therapist would have erased the imprint of post-traumatic stress; neither did he pass it on through the war. The woman of his life entered the living room with teary eyes, lips stained with chocolate cookies. Cravings… He turned off the damn meaningless tv. He softly called her name, with the affection that she always identified with him; She pretended to get away from the encounter, but he was faster than her and wrapped his arms around her. Emily always hated to be perceived as a whiny individual. Her spouse knew why, although at that very moment he would admit her to being small and defenseless; as long as he felt her presence, she would consent to anything. He gently took her arms and tried to face her beautiful, youthful face. Emily resisted vigorously. He begged her to look back at him. May she grant him the favor of being judged by his powerful celestial icy eyes. Emmy begged to be let go. He knew it: she was again navigating her deepest memories and reached the point of no return; she heard the voices of the past, recalling the scenes where she felt real happiness. She fell apart like a house of cards. She let him see it, but she flatly denied it; Emily Vickers was always characterized by being stubborn. Poor girl awaiting birth. She would arrive in a dangerous world, with despicable people seeking to harm them to demand retaliation. Brad was scared. Brad wished he could be much stronger than he was. He longed to be someone like his late friends, or worse yet: like the annoying Chris or the clever Jill. He kissed and then embraced his special other half in his arms. That specially made little doll, unbreakable and at the same time terribly fragile. "I miss them so much, Brad! They took the best I had from me; I am no longer anyone. " He wanted to tell her that she was the universe concentrated in a single soul. He stroked his limp hair gently, as if never in his life had experienced such sensory pleasure. However, they could not afford to collapse. What would they say about that? "We'll do what we can, honey." He rubbed her arms lovingly, trying to infuse her with the nonexistent courage inside him. “We are going to try, even if life goes away while trying, okay?” He saw her encouragement to start an argument; anything lately ignited the enormous rage that boiled inside her. Only one thing was able to appease that beast. Then he lowered himself to one knee on the ground; he kissed the bulging belly with unusual desperation as he swore a solemn promise. Never, ever would he allow the two women in his life to be hurt. He would pay with his life if necessary.

[fictional-men-enthusiast]

I forgot how hot Leon Kennedy is in RE2, damn.

Not only hot, but nice, too.