Kyoukasuigetsu



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    After a lifetime of fighting bioterrorism and surviving the Requiem incident, DSO Agent Leon S. Kennedy closes his eyes, expecting his usual nightmare: Racoon City, September 29, 1998. The night he marched into a living nightmare. The night he failed to make a difference.

    But when the blood on his boots is warm, and the gun smoke burns his throat, the merciful detachment of the dream shatters. This is no memory. Leon is twenty-one again, trapped in his unconditioned rookie body, but armed with the lethal muscle memory, the deep scars, and the crushing survivor's guilt of a veteran operator.

    Raccoon City is falling all over again. But this time, Leon isn't a terrified rookie just trying to survive the night. He's a man on a desperate mission to rewrite history, and God help any B.O.W. that gets in his way.

    This time, it has to be different.

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    24 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "Let me get this straight", Heisenberg said with an incredulous look over his tinted glasses. "You douse yourself in some herbed booze and figure that's what's healing you?"
    "It is", Ethan sneered. "Always has worked."
    "No shit. I ask again, Ethan Winters…"

    The Lord kicked his chair back and watched him wriggle on the floor.

    "What the fuck are you?"
    --
    In which Ethan gets killed early in the factory, and Heisenberg is delighted to have another freak to hang out with.

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    21 Jun 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    This fic is so Prototype coded but also its so much more that than. Rip my heart out and call it healing, this fic is so good.

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    Every screen in the room blazed with the same breaking news feed. An alien voice had just asked for him by name on live television.

    “Mr. Grace?” little Jamal whispered from the front row, eyes huge behind his glasses. “Is that really you they’re talking about? Like, you you?”

    Ryland’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. His heart slammed against his ribs like it wanted to escape and hide under the desk with the class hamster. He was just Mr. Grace. The guy who drew cartoon planets on the board, who stayed late helping kids glue together messy dioramas of the solar system, who once spent an entire lunch period comforting a sobbing girl because her goldfish had “gone to the great fishbowl in the sky.” He graded spelling tests on vocabulary words like photosynthesis and asteroid. Aliens did not know his name. Aliens did not ask for science teachers.

    The marker slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.

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    17 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 97

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    The legend tells of a time when humans were whole spherical beings with four arms, four legs, and two faces. Fearing their power, God split them in half. From that act was born a lifelong yearning for the missing half: a soulmate.

    The Symposium - Plato

    Or, Zhou Mingrui and Grisha Adam are two soulmates seperated across space and time. Against all odds, they still find each other.

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    14 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 70

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    A doll is weakest at the joints, the articulation points, that allow freedom of movement. One can break apart these points easily with the right force. The four limbs can separate from the torso and each limb can be further taken apart again twice more... Then there's the head, easily broken away with a twisted pop.

    This coincides with the major weak points of an average mortal mans body. Points to exploit for successfully complete dismemberment.

    Though unlike the average mortal man. A doll can be strung back together with the rightful care taken, the right technique.

    Perhaps the same could be said for a Broken God?

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    14 Jun 2026