#anyway don't mind the long post I'm gonna go write that paper now and then cry again

[adhd-mode-activate]

I'm gonna cry, honestly

in my senior year of college, my grades really slipped, to the point that when grades for my last semester came out, it was clear that with what I had I couldn't graduate. I honestly would've been more surprised if I had been able to graduate

my parents and I talked. a lot. my mom was disappointed, but we talked and we're doing better now. my dad was frustrated, but he also looked at me and told me to read the date on his diploma. and then asked how he could be mad when I did exactly the same thing he did

the assumption was that I would have to take at least one more class in my field of study, which is Biblical Studies, so the options for where I can get a relevant class are...limited

but my dad said to wait. just wait. be patient until I got an email from the registrar saying what I needed.

I got that email today, from the dean of my school. he told me I needed one more credit hour in my department to graduate. and then he said that since I'd done my internship for zero credit hours, if I did the paper evaluating my internship he could bump it up to one credit hour with no extra charge

I think I cried for an hour. I actually get to graduate. I get to spend my money and time saving up for a home and a newer car and buying food for my darling cat.

It's weird, thinking how much that hit me. Freshman me would've been shocked and somewhat horrified that I was so relieved just to graduate. But it feels like the days I wake up and realize that it's not so bad to be alive

I get to graduate

[sempsimps]

lucifer x (fem)overlord reader

uhm so I've never posted anything like this before and tbh idk how its gonna go but the brain rot is too real and i need this out also i should stop writing in class oop- punctuation? never heard of her (sorry if my writing sucks :] )

tags;

NSFW

public

eating out / fingering

bites / small cuts

sexual tension obviously

just a small amount of bondage but its mild

edging if you squint

possessive if you squint (well its pretty clear)

Alastor is kinda a cock block sorry not sorry

it was the week after the extermination and i had been called to a meeting by carmilla and when she sets it we all know that its serious so i had to go and no doubt it was about the most recent events

"i don't want you to go"

ah the authority in his voice would be threatening if he wasn't my husband being the 'the big boss of hell' or whatever silly thing he likes to say but i just smiled and absentmindedly passed him off putting my purse into my skirt pocket if i was looking at him i would of seen the look of mischief in his eyes

"i don't want you to go my love, l-love?"

"uh huh..."

i wasn't paying attention to him as he did the same thing every meeting and so next thing i know i felt his claws on my shirt pulling me down to be face to face

"are you even listing!?"

i smile as i calmly raised my self back up and fixed my shirt

"yes I'm listing to you but we both know i have a reputation to uphold and Carmilla herself asked me to this so its obviously quite important"

i calmly say lucifer wasn't allowed at the meetings as he was the king and had little business in the overlord affairs and i always told him what happens anyway but he was being over protective since he learned Alastor was at these meeting but the devil looked quite disheartened at my comment which made me hurt inside but his smug smile appeared right after it

"I'm coming with you"

"luci you can-"

"they wont even know I'm there"

i looked at him sceptically but shrugged it off as he would do as he pleased oh what a showy dick he was i sighed but i walked out of the mansion before teleporting in front of the elevator up to the meeting i immediately seen Rosie and curtly bowed to her which she responded to in the same manner we both smiled and walked in together i sat to her right at the end of the table my chest right at the table as i preferred to have my arms on the surface soon i seen Alastor walk in and we waved at each other in respect and soon the meeting had started i looked around Carmilla at the head of the table talking of the recent extermination Zestial next her as well as her daughters i didn't know the overlords across of me but they seemed.... nice Velvet at the other head to my right she must be here instead of Vox because of the media fight that happened ha classic Vox always a sore loser and Rosie to my left and Alastor to hers i always admired their bond the meeting droned on for a while becoming background noise my mind wandered to my angel and thinking about what he meant no longer did i have to think as i felt a claw end gently tap my knee i leaned back slightly to see my daring husbands hand at my knee i raised my eyebrow at it face not showing much emotion 'the fuck....so that's what he meant be being here with me and not being seen too ooohh i get it aw cute'

"--- are you okay?"

"mh yeah I'm fine sorry Carmilla continue sorry"

i moved myself back to where i was feeling rather embarrassed now but not because i got called out like that even though that was awful but its the fact i now feel lucifer's hands tease me from under my skirt it was long enough as it reached my shins but it also made pretty good cover for lucifer to roam and tease with his hands i thought his intention was quite cute 'cant go one hour without me I'm flattered but seriously now? here!?' his claws lightly brush against my skin the edge grazing across my thigh leaving a feeling like a paper cut i felt his feather light touches moving closer to my core i reached down with my hand under the table to lightly move his hand away in response i had a light nip at my leg my eyes widen in slight shock at this i knew the king was quite risky when it came to this but this was a little far...... but I'm not completely complaining too much i felt his head push between my legs and i just did the same thing reaching to his face and pushing him away lightly to stop him but i felt his smile as a light kiss was placed to my skin i thought nothing of it and placed both my hands in my lap but that was a mistake i felt a light pressure on my wrists i looked down to see a golden glint around both of my wrists 'that handsome prick' i couldn't believe he would abuse his magic in this way but oh well i guess im in too deep now i felt his sly smile on me and he teased me with his tongue now licking some parts and lapping at others i could only bawl my hands trying to act normal in the meeting 'of fuck has anyone noticed this' i glanced around no one cared at all all to busy doing there own thing or listening to Carmilla, lucifer continued the secrete attack and i let him opening my thighs over so slightly and i held in a squeak of surprise when i felt the end of his claw gently move the fabric of my underwear to the side so he could move his fingers inside of me my breathing got quite heavy and my pupils dilatating as i zone out of my vision and focusing on not making a sound in front of my collages or "friends" lucifer's fingers teased my entrance only lightly slipping in to test me his other hand rubbing circle's on my skin while his head rested comfortably on my thigh enjoying the torment i was in i was so out of trying not to make a noise that when his movements twitched and halted i was back into reality and i quickly knew why as i moved my eyes over to Alastor his gaze lingered down for a split second before he spoke in that stupid radio sound

"--- my dear you all there? you seem distracted"

his voice carried a sinister lint to it sending an uncomfortable chill down my spine

"uh y yeah im alright"

carmilla looked at me and i bowed my head in apology

"sorry"

'fuck did he notice what was going on shit fuck fuck-' i was brought out of my panic nearly jumping out of my skin when i felt a particular harsh bite to my upper thigh clenching fists from the pain my eyes going blurry as i try not making any noise lucifer's possessiveness was showing through and i could feel the slow trickle of blood form from the bite lucifer eagerly lapping it up as an apology 'prick there was no cause' i understood the rivalry but my thoughts were directed to another 180 as i felt his fingers penetrate me slowly before ramping up the speed of them being cautious of the sharp ends but as i was starting to feel pleasure they left but soon replaced with his hot breath and forked tongue doing wonders the small licks driving me insane my legs slightly shaking at the contact he was relentless in eating me for all that i had i finally slipped up letting out a small quite strained sigh i felt lucifer's smile from between my legs 'that sweet sly smug fucker aaaa!' the slightest touch he gave to my clit made my thighs close around his face in shock but he just softly opened them again at this rate i wouldn't last i gave another glance around the room and seen Alastors eyes snap away from me his ear hair thingy twitching 'oh fuck he knows' i didn't have time to think as lucifer's relentless tongue kept at my body i was getting closer and closer to the edge his skilful hands tracing patterns along the bites he placed on my skin edging closer to my core coaxing my body to release my nails digging into my palms i was so close to finishing but everything stopped i freeze at Carmilla's voice

"this meeting is over thank you all for coming to listen to this matter we will meet again next week to discuse the same topic hope to see you all there"

my saviour i really didn't want to cum here of all places 'thank fuck holy shit too many close calls' just as i was about to stand up i felt how shaky my legs were all of the other overlords had already left leaving me behind with-

"my dear are you alright? let me assist you it seems your having trouble"

oh that stupid voice again filled with smugness Alastor wrapped his hand around my arm assisting me with walking out of the room

"oh Alastor you don't have to im fine really-"

"oh nonsense and i insist"

his voice got sinister quickly as he led me out of the room i held in a groan i was so close to finishing that it hurt to move so i excepted my fate as he walked us to an elevator but then my stomach dropped lucifer always waited outside for me and his not so friendly rival was basically hand in hand with me 'oh shit' the elevator moved down and i seen my husband waiting i attempted to loosen Alstors grasp but he held firm and the see through door opened to look at a more than pissed of king looking at Alastor with a death glare

"hello my love how was the meeting"

lucifer was acting as if he wasn't there he was talking through his clenched teeth still looking at Alastor as he asked the radio man let go of my arm and i awkwardly walked over to my husband and as i did i could hear him snarl lowly his hand wrapping around my waist

"cant keep your hands to yourself deer?"

"cant keep your nose out of someone's business? wouldn't want your own trick to backfire"

and with that i grabbed a hold of lucifer teleporting us back to our room before he started somthing on the street...again

i didn't really know how to end that but i hope it was okay this is my first ever fanfic that I've properly written so sorry if it sucks idfk

-semp

[slasher-jaxshitposts]

WARNING: slight vent

This is a psa for all @slasher-jax followers

Hey guys!!! Sorry I've been so inactive 😬😔 I wanna post more, but don't have the energy to do so. I haven't been feeling well rested, I haven't been having inspiration, and my writing has begun to feel less like an escape, and more like something people expect from me. I started writing to escape my own emotions, but now that I have a bit more interaction with my posts, I feel terrible when I don't post something at least three times a week. My dad should be filing the paperwork soon to my mother about visitation rights, so Ive been getting terrible anxiety like that. I've been having a fucked up gut feeling when in my home alone, and my mom keeps telling me it's because of all the horror movies I watch. I'm not quitting writing, I am simply taking a break for a while until my mental stability is in a better place where I can writing without feeling like complete strangers expect me to. I understand most people aren't like that, and that I have no reason to be thinking that way, its just how my mind is. I am going to continue writing, I'm just not going to be posting it for a while until I get over this anxiety and depression. I love all of you guys, and thank you for your understanding. Feel free to continue tagging me in things and stuff, I will reblog them and interact with the posts you tag me in, however I will not be writing for a little while. Also feel free to send in more asks and stuff, I love receiving them and knowing that people do enjoy my writing, however it will take me a little while to write them as I am trying to catch up on some shows, movies, series, or im just trying to slim down my watchlist. I'm gonna start writing on paper first so I'm not staring at screens constantly when writing, it gives me headaches. Anyways, sorry this got so long, just letting y'all known before I disappear off the fucking earth for a little while.

people I think might be interested:

@puppet200 @zeroisreallygood @purpleeggyboi @th3-r4t-48 @im-a-simp898 @aflairforthemelodramaticc @luciluck2046 @caretaleandotherstuff @evry1h8s-me

[loumauve]

For the Character Ask! Right backatcha while I think on your asks, 17 and 18 for Silga and Untalla!

(in reference to this ask meme)

17. Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them

18. What they’d go to see a therapist about

---

gonna drop the entirety of this under a read more bc it's likely to get long with even just the poems (no, I did not leaf through my collection of 15+ poetry books just for this) (also, no songs, sadly, not yet. I'll send you a message on discord tho if I do decide on some in the future)

also, the reason this reply is late is because I wanted to take my time with finding the right songs, but then that never happened because of me losing my mind over Jesse and Emily once again other distractions, so I figured I'd rather get around to it now because I love them and I think about them all the time and I didn't want you to think I was ignoring them

Untalla is a bit hard for me to pin down, so I'm going off vibes here

i never expected death to be my most faithful companion, but she is the only one who will come without having to be asked. - the only one who will never leave (from the princess saves herself in this one by Amanda Lovelace)

This is me, I am the eye of the storm and my heart is a little broken. But if you want me, I'm yours. (from Pillow Thoughts by Courtney Peppernell)

[..] The Grieved - are many - I am told - There is the various Cause - Death - is but one - and comes but once - And only nails the eyes - There's Grief of Want - and Grief of Cold - A sort they call "Despair" - [..] (part of poem 561 from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson by.. well, Emily Dickinson, my eternally beloved)

Silga is a whole load of grief and longing, if I had more hope-filled poetry books I would have tried to find a hopeful one as well. I think that would suit her, but alas

what do we do with all the things we need to say to someone we'll never see again? - maybe that's why i write (from to drink coffee with a ghost by Amanda Lovelace)

I wish that it were easier for me to explain that you won't really get inside my head for a long time even though I want you to crawl inside my mind as badly as I want to curl up with a flashlight inside of yours and read for hours on end [..] (part of Things I Would Like To Tell You but Probably Won't (At least, not for a very long time) from High Wire Darlings by Kalyn RoseAnne Livernois)

[..] The thing about heartbreak is it feels too big for your body. You become cavernous - A walking Mariana Trench. Nobody knows how deep you go because the pressure is heavy enough to fold bodies into paper cranes and naive enough to call this beautiful. [..] (part of Survivor's Guilt from Wrong Side of a Fistfight by Ashe Vernon)

..and THEM because I love them

I was lying beside you and you had this half smile because my hands were drifting down your spine. And you looked at me and I lost track of everything. Because I realised just how badly I want under your skin. (from Pillow Thoughts by Courtney Peppernell)

[..] Do not dote on me Do not say anything about my eyes when we are watching the stars I will know you adore me by the way you remove the space between us before we fall asleep It will be in your eyes even when you didn't mean to tell me [..] (part of Irromantic from High Wire Darlings by Kalyn RoseAnne Livernois)

[..] Find the pocket of your heartbeat where you keep Forgiveness. We will try again tomorrow - I know you've got a bone to pick with tomorrow, but it's coming anyway. [..] You think you've seen every ugly corner of this whole rotten world, but listen: There is an infinite number of things we don't know and, statistically speaking, at least half of them are probably very, very beautiful. (part of Post-Panic Attack from Wrong Side of a Fistfight by Ashe Vernon)

as for therapy.. oof.

how many hours do they have? lol obviously a LOT of grief counselling, trauma processing for both of them. and maybe they can go to couple's therapy together, even if they're not dating, just to figure out how to best communicate and support each other. and maybe figure out what kind of intimacy is the kind they want and can handle. sometimes it can help to have external structure for those kinds of conversations

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

The Betrayer | Chapter Eight: Where We Begin

Oh, you were in for it now.

Pairing: Albert Wesker/F!Reader, Chris Redfield/F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Violence, Blood, Minor Character Death

Notes: Hey guys! I know it's been a full month since I last posted. The holidays were very busy, and I spent the last two weeks trying to write this chapter. It was initially going to be a really massive one (I'm talking roughly 20k words), but I decided to split it in half because it was just taking too long to write it. Also, university starts up again next week for me, so it might be a struggle to finish the second half as soon as I'd like. This just felt like a better option, and I really like how this chapter ends anyway, so I'm happy with it! Hope y'all don't mind having two chapters of flashbacks because I felt it was important to set up Lucky's history in S.T.A.R.S. to drive home just how hard Wesker's betrayal really was for her. Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Masterlist | Previous | Next

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March 15, 1996; R.P.D.

It was a slow day at the station, something you always hated. 

Three of your coworkers in the east office were out with the flu, including your partner, Kevin. That left you trapped at your desk, filling out report after boring report while you waited around, almost hoping for some kind of incident so you could get out onto the street.

No such luck.

Instead, Arthur sidled up to you as you hunched over your paperwork, the officer looking sheepish when you glanced his way. “Hey, would you be a lifesaver and take these reports to the west office? I have a meeting in a few minutes, and I’m already gonna be late as is.”

You groaned as you stretched back in your chair, eyes narrowing as you took in the massive stack of papers in his hands. “Seriously, man?”

He gave you a hopeful smile. “Please? I swear I’ll pay you back.”

You looked down at your desk, considering your own pile of paperwork, and sighed. You did want a break. This was a great chance to stretch your legs.

“Fine, but you owe me a sandwich from Grill 13 for lunch tomorrow, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You stood and begrudgingly took the sizable stack from Arthur’s arms, holding it to your chest as you bid him goodbye and headed for the opposite side of the building. 

You stopped at the ramp that led to the west office entrance, deciding you were going to take the opportunity to make a detour instead of going straight there, the paperwork in your grasp the perfect excuse in case someone asked what you were doing. 

Maybe now you could finally check out the new S.T.A.R.S. office upstairs.

Construction had been ongoing for the last few weeks to outfit the room with whatever the new special forces team needed. It was once the station’s gym, but no one was really upset when they discovered it would be moved to a larger space. In fact, many officers (including yourself) had been complaining for years that the gym was far too small for the ever-growing police department.

From those you knew that snuck a peek of the new and improved room, they had built a private office, set up an entire wall of radio equipment, and–what you were most intrigued by–created their own armory. 

You made it to the hallway where the office in question was located, meandering down past the locker rooms. You glanced at the vending machines against the wall, wondering idly if you should grab a snack after this little adventure was over.

You reached the door, peering down both ends of the corridor to make sure the coast was clear before you opened it and walked inside. 

You weren’t sure what you expected. It looked exactly like you had been told it did.

The dispatch console was massive and pretty high-tech, though you supposed that would have to be the case for a special tactics force. 

As you swept your gaze over the room, you found yourself to be a little jealous of the computer monitors that sat on every desk, wishing you could type up your reports instead of cramping your fingers with handwriting.

You then laid your eyes on the armory, which was completely empty. You could only imagine the kind of weapons that would be stored there once the team had actually been formed.

Once satisfied with your snooping in the main room, you approached the private office, thinking back to what you learned about the recently instated captain.

Wesker, you believed his name was. 

He was new to the R.P.D., which shocked everyone when he was picked before Marini to be given charge over S.T.A.R.S. 

Gossip claimed that he was a tall, menacing-looking man, his eyes always hidden behind his sunglasses. He never smiled–or so you heard–and spoke with a very snide and commanding voice.

“Maybe he’s a lizard man,” David said as the two of you and Rita chatted in the break room. “They say higher-ups usually are.”

You and Rita shared an amused look at your coworker’s words, who always seemed to have a conspiracy for everything.

“I feel like he’d have to be a little higher up than that for the lizard people to believe it was worth the trouble, dontcha think?” you questioned with a laugh.

“Maybe Irons is the real lizard man,” Rita joked, whispering behind her hand. 

“I’m just saying, the guy seems a little suspicious,” David replied, defensive.

You snorted. “You say that about everyone, Ford.” 

You honestly felt sorry for the guy, considering he hadn’t even officially started working here yet, and already the rumor mill was turning. He probably had to walk a very thin line to maintain respect. 

You were well aware that some of your fellow officers would take the first opportunity to try and knock down any new hires a peg, like some kind of frat hazing.

Bunch of dogs. 

You rolled your eyes at the thought as you sat in the large, plush chair behind the captain’s desk, placing the stack of papers upon the wooden surface rather haphazardly. 

Must be a lot of responsibility to be captain, you mused, kicking your feet up on the desk and leaning back. But man, the perks of getting this chair alone are worth it.

You knew you should get back on task, but it was difficult to push yourself out of the comfortable position.

“I could get used to this,” you said aloud to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment, relaxed.

“I see someone’s made herself at home.” 

You gasped at the deep voice that penetrated through your daydreaming, throwing your legs off the desk and sending the papers sitting on the edge flying to the floor. 

“You scared me!” you exclaimed as you dropped to your knees and started picking up the reports, not even bothering to look at the man standing in the doorway. 

“Well, it’s not every day you find a stranger getting comfortable at your desk,” he admonished as he drew closer.

“Your… desk..?” Your eyes widened before shooting up to the man in front of you, met with your own reflection in his dark shades. “Captain Wesker?”

“How astute,” he replied sardonically as he appraised you. “And you are?”

You turned your attention back to the scattered papers to avoid his piercing gaze that you could feel even through his glasses as you offered him your name.

“You’re a patrol officer, aren’t you? What are you doing up here? Not slacking off, I hope.”

You sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were caught. “Not slacking off, per se. I was asked to bring these reports to the west office and decided to take a little… detour. Wanted to check out the S.T.A.R.S. headquarters before it was in full use, you know?”

He hummed in response and–to your surprise–knelt down across from you to help you in your endeavor, his voice sounding amused as he inquired, “Well, is my personal office to your liking?”

Your eyes snapped back to his face at his teasing, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But that’s not what really held your attention, no.

His shades slid slightly down his nose as he assessed you, revealing the most dazzling pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen, like two sapphires set in stone.

You felt breathless looking at him, really taking in how handsome the man was.

“Cat got your tongue, Officer?” he asked as he passed over the papers in his grasp.

You huffed out a bashful laugh, feeling your cheeks redden as you took the reports from him. “Sorry. To answer your previous question, yes. Probably the most comfortable office chair I’ve ever sat on.”

“Ah, good to know,” he replied as he stood to his full height, adjusting his sunglasses so that they covered those beautiful eyes once more, to your displeasure.

You stood as well, having gathered all the papers. “You haven’t used your desk yet?”

“Hadn’t had the chance, I’m afraid. I technically don’t start until Monday, but I wanted to make sure everything was in working order,” he explained as he stroked a finger over the desk, lifting it to his face to inspect the level of dust that had settled on the relatively new piece of furniture before turning back to face you. 

“I’m so sorry, Captain Wesker. I didn’t even think about–”

He waved his hand dismissively. “No need to fret, my dear, I’m only pleased to hear it’s to your standards.”

If you were flushed before, you must look like a tomato now. The term of endearment made your heart skip a beat. 

You managed to calm yourself down, wondering why you were acting like this, and responded, “Well, I should really get back to work.”

“I won’t stop you,” he said as he moved out of your way, allowing you to exit the small office.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Captain,” you told him earnestly, holding out your hand for him to shake, your other one grasping the stack of reports tightly to avoid any more mishaps.

He took your hand in his larger one, the grip firm, though not crushing. “Likewise.”

You turned to leave but stopped in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder at him with an abashed smile. “You won’t tell my superiors about this, right? I’m sure I’ll get reamed if they knew I was taking the scenic route.”

He folded his arms across his chest and that ghost of a smirk appeared once more. “Your secret is safe with me.” 

You nodded, appreciative, and hurried out of the room, something you hadn’t felt in a long time fluttering in your stomach.

***

May 7, 1996; R.P.D. 

It was unusually cold for a May morning. You rubbed your arms to warm yourself since you didn’t think to grab a jacket before leaving your apartment.

You paused, quirking a brow when you heard Kevin humming to himself beside you as he cheerfully scribbled on a piece of paper.

“I know for a fact that isn’t a report you’re filling out so happily. What is it?” you questioned suspiciously.

“Oh nothing, really,” he replied with a shrug before fixing you with an impish smile you knew far too well. “Just getting around to applying to S.T.A.R.S., is all.” 

“Didn’t you pick up that form like, a month ago?” 

He rolled his eyes. “So what? I’m doing it now. The team is the R.P.D.’s baby anyway. Not like it’s going anywhere.”

“Well, I’m rooting for you to get in, Kev,” you told him, clapping him on the back.

“You could apply too, you know.” 

There it was, the typical Kevin way of not-so-subtly hinting at something he wanted from you without ever straight up saying it. Something that drove you crazy during your relationship. Actually, it still drove you crazy, if you were honest.

You sighed, this being the umpteenth time he’s brought up the two of you joining S.T.A.R.S. together.

Sure, the team piqued your interest, especially all of the new recruits, but you had no real desire to join it yourself. You were pretty happy with your current position. Besides, you cringed every time you thought of your one and only interaction with their esteemed and intimidating captain, where you embarrassed yourself completely. 

“I already told you, Kev, I’m not interested.”

“I know, I know,” he replied as he stood from his chair. “I’m gonna grab a coffee from the break room. Be right back.”

You waved him off, a part of you feeling a little guilty for being so adamantly against applying. Neither of you wanted to separate as partners, but you knew he’d make fun of you if you told him why you weren’t keen on joining the special tactics force.

You were certain your application would be tossed immediately anyway, so why bother?

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and tried to focus on finishing the report that you had started earlier. 

That is, until you felt a presence looming behind you.

You assumed that it was Kevin, turning around in your seat to tell him off for hovering again, but the words died on your tongue when you found yourself staring at Captain Wesker instead.

“Captain? What are you doing here?” you questioned, more than a little confused.

“I’ve come here to make a suggestion,” he replied simply. “You should apply for S.T.A.R.S.”

“I–what?” you asked dumbly.

“I’ve seen your work history here at the R.P.D. You’ve proven yourself to be loyal, competent, and hardworking,” he explained, leaning down slightly to place the application form in front of you before looking at you directly. “Or hardworking until you ‘take a detour’, I should say.”

You’ve never felt so bewildered by someone–or so exposed by their gaze. 

You thought you utterly humiliated yourself in front of him, and yet he was practically offering you a job? He must have looked into you after your first meeting, but you couldn’t fathom what about you would garner the attention.

“Oh, sir, I’m not sure. I’m pretty content with where I’m at right now,” you said, repeating what you’d been telling Kevin for weeks. You were now more conflicted in making this decision, but it felt like the better option. Or the safer one.

His brow twitched ever-so-slightly at your response, but he replied coolly, “The choice is yours but do reconsider. It would be a great opportunity for you. A woman of your caliber will surely bore of your current station before too long.”

With that, the man turned and strode out of the room. 

You sat there for a moment, trying to wrap your brain around the interaction.

“I’m back,” Kevin announced as he plopped into his seat. 

When you didn’t immediately respond, he glanced over, seeing the application sitting on your desk. 

“What the hell is that?” he demanded. “Did you lie to me about not wanting to apply?”

You snapped out of your reverie at the accusation. “I didn’t lie! Captain Wesker gave it to me just now.” 

“As if.” 

You sighed before caving and telling Keven about your first meeting with the captain weeks ago, and what he just said to you a few moments prior.

It seemed your partner finally believed you as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, shit. Are you really not gonna join? He was right when he said it would be a great opportunity, and you apparently made a good impression somehow.”

You looked down at the form, tracing your finger over the S.T.A.R.S. emblem at the top of the first page, considering. 

The biggest reason you didn’t want to apply was your fear that Wesker thought you were a lazy idiot, but the man himself just claimed otherwise.

And you would be lying to yourself if you said the prospect of getting closer to the enigmatic captain didn’t excite you. 

He was just so… mysterious.

It must have been a curse, then, that you always loved a good mystery.

You tapped your nail on the application, feeling suddenly sure of yourself.

���I think I’ve changed my mind.”

***

May 23, 1996; R.P.D.

You stood in front of the door to the S.T.A.R.S. office once more, staring at it instead of just opening it up and entering like you knew you should. 

You had always been riddled with anxiety when it came to big changes like this, but for some reason, this one seemed far more life-altering than most you’ve dealt with in the past.

Shortly after Wesker’s “suggestion”, you and Kevin had filled out your applications to the special tactics team together.

“Good luck, partner,” Kevin said as the two of you went to turn in your forms.

You glanced over to him and he held up his little finger to you, which you wrapped tightly with your own. Something you always did to show solidarity.

“Good luck, Kev,” you responded, hoping for the best, for both of you.

Kevin had been severely disappointed when he discovered that your application had been accepted and his wasn’t. He even spent the rest of the evening nursing a drink and complaining to anyone who was within earshot at J’s Bar.

You felt guilty about it, especially knowing that you only recently changed your mind about joining S.T.A.R.S. And despite Kevin’s constant reassurances that you would remain friends even if you were no longer partners, it did little to quell the heartbreak of knowing the two of you would never go on patrol together again, or sit next to each other at your desks and goof off between half-finished reports. 

The realization of that almost made you rescind your application altogether, to which Kevin hastily told you it would be good for you and that he wasn’t going anywhere if you got the job.

“Who else would beat me at darts?” he had joked, patting your head like a dog.

You sniffled, trying not to let the tears building up in your eyes escape as you laughed. “Everyone this side of town, Ryman. You suck at them.”

The man usually struggled to stay serious, something you once couldn’t stand but now found endearing. However, he managed to give your shoulder a comforting squeeze and said with the most sincere tone you’ve ever heard from him, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Despite knowing you’d miss Kevin as your partner (as well as your other office mates), and the anxiety of such a decision, you were excited.

You’d never escape the grueling paperwork, but the missions would be far more interesting, and you were keen on getting to know the other members of the team. They were the best of the best, and you could learn a thing or two.

Of course, you still had to survive your interview with the captain himself, which somehow made you more nervous than the unsettling one you underwent with Chief Irons when you were fresh-faced from the police academy. You still shivered every time you thought about the old perv and how he had raked his eyes over you like a piece of meat. 

Fortunately, though, the interview went well.

The captain was as cool and collected as you now expected him to be, seeming to listen intently as you answered his questions to the best of your ability. You were confident in your skills, but only being able to see your own reflection in his shades and incapable of deciphering his tone made you sweat. 

“Well,” he said as you answered his final question, “I believe that concludes the interview.” 

You stood up as he did, your hands twiddling in front of you. “So? How’d I do?”

He offered a small smile at that, escorting you to his door. “It would do you well to be more stoic. You have a habit of showing your every emotion on your face.”

You stiffened at that, turning to face him with wide eyes, certain that you screwed yourself out of the job before you even had the chance to work it.

Before he opened the office door, he looked down at you. “You start first thing tomorrow. See you then.”

You had sputtered out a thanks, rushing out of the room and into the hallway so you could catch your breath.

You couldn’t believe it.

You made the team.

Kevin congratulated you when you told him, and he offered to take you out for a couple drinks in celebration. You decided to decline, not wanting to overdo it and show up the first day on the job with a hangover. He rolled his eyes, but he didn’t pester.

You hardly slept that night, rehearsing introductions in hopes you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself (more than you already had).

And now here you were, standing in front of the S.T.A.R.S. office. 

You straightened your spine and the box of your belongings from downstairs that was tucked under your arm before walking into the room.

Your initial plan of action was to meet with the captain, but you could see he was talking to someone in his office. Your attempt to remain self-assured faltered a bit as you stood there uselessly, not sure if you should wait by the door or come back later. 

“Hey, can I help you?” you heard a voice say. 

You turned to find a beautiful young woman walking up to you, her brown hair in a short bob and her blue eyes regarding you with light curiosity.

You introduced yourself by name, offering her your free hand to shake. 

“Oh, you’re the new recruit, aren’t you? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jill Valentine. Come here, I’ll show you your desk.” She released your hand from hers, turning and leading you further into the room. She placed her fingers on a chair that was pushed under a desk that sat in the middle of the office. “You’re here. I’m right behind you.”

You sat the box of your things on the surface of your new space, awkwardly trying to avoid crushing the keyboard in the process. As you looked up from the action, a gaggle of inquisitive men crowded around you. 

“Who are you?” one of them asked, taking in your civilian clothing. You had turned in your old uniform before arriving at the office and had yet to be outfitted for your new one. 

“She’s the new member,” Marini informed them, walking up behind the group. You didn’t know the vice-captain personally, but you knew of him. The surrounding men parted so he could give you a firm handshake. “Welcome to the team. We’re glad to have you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m glad to be here.”

He nodded before leaving, the group converging once more to greet you. You gave out one handshake after another, your new team members leaving to sit at their own desks after introducing themselves.

The two men that remained didn't seem to be in a rush to leave as they considered you.

One of them had a red bandana tied around his head and saluted you with a smile. “Joseph Frost.”

“Forest Speyer,” the other said, sporting a brunet mullet.

“Nice to meet you,” you responded, shaking their hands like the others. 

“It’s great to finally have an actual chick working with us,” Forest added. “Jill doesn’t count.”

“Up yours, Speyer,” The woman retorted with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t mind these two. They’re the resident clowns.”

Joseph reached out to squeeze her nose, making a honking noise as she swatted his hand away.

“In all seriousness, it’s nice to have another woman on the team. Feels like I’m drowning in testosterone everyday,” Jill told you in amused exasperation.

You scoffed in agreement, leaning against your desk and crossing your arms over your chest. “I know what you mean. The department’s a bit of a sausage fest.”

“Hey, sausage is delicious!” Joseph defended.

Forest, who had been leaning on his friend, was quick to wrap his arm around his neck and give him a noogie. “You would know, wouldn’t you, Frost?”

“Okay, wait a minute!” Joseph said, trying to pull Forest off of him. “I didn’t mean it like that, man!” 

You laughed as the friends roughhoused, Jill smiling at you warmly.

“You guys wrestling without me?” another man asked as he approached the four of you. He was tall, muscular, and incredibly handsome, his brown eyes falling on you as Forest let go of Joseph. “You lost, sweetheart? I could escort you to the reception desk. Or better yet, out to dinner.” 

You were stunned by such a bold flirtation, only able to narrow your eyes at the large man. 

“Uh, Chris–” Jill started.

“I’d prefer you didn’t harass the new hire, Redfield,” Captain Wesker interrupted as he seemingly appeared out of thin air, disdain seeping from his tone at his subordinate’s terrible pick-up line. 

“New hire?” the other man questioned before glancing back at you, looking sheepish. “Shit, I’m sorry about that. I’m Chris Redfield, by the way.”

You had heard that name quite a bit since he was recruited a few weeks prior. The receptionists always gossiped about how handsome and charming he was. You weren’t sure if “charming” was the right word for it, now that you finally met him. “Cheeseball” seemed more suitable.

You smiled, feeling forgiving as you shook his hand and gave him your name in turn. “No worries, Redfield. Talk to me like that again, though, and I’ll have to kick your ass.” 

In your peripheral vision, you could swear you saw a smirk on Wesker’s face at your words. It was gone when you looked his way.

“No need for that. I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise,” Chris replied with a chuckle and a good-natured wink. 

“Glad to see introductions are over,” Wesker said, now fully facing you. “I have a meeting with the chief soon, but you and I have some things to discuss. When I return, I want you to come to my office. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good,” was all he declared before turning and striding out of the room. 

Once the door closed behind him, you pivoted toward your new teammates, whispering, “Is he… usually that standoffish?”

The group nodded in response. 

“He’s a good leader, don’t get me wrong,” Chris told you. “He can be a hardass sometimes, but he’s fair. Just kind of–I don't know–reserved, I guess.”

“Hm,” you responded, staring at the office door in thought.

You wondered if maybe you could get closer to him than the others, though you weren’t sure how to do that. Or even why. Sure, he was handsome, but he was your boss. Nothing good would come from feeding the flames of this little crush you somehow managed to form in the minimal interactions you had with him. 

This was a dangerous game, and you knew you shouldn’t play it.

The image of those blue eyes danced in your mind anyway. 

You sat down at your desk, half listening to your teammates as they talked and joked around, deciding to put away your things while you waited for the captain to return.

When you were finished, you glanced around, freezing when you realized you could see directly into Wesker’s office. The two of you would be able to look right at each other when the blinds were pulled up.

“Was I assigned this desk, do you know?” you asked the others.

“Yeah, Wesker picked it. Why?” Jill questioned.

You felt heat creeping up your neck.

Surely, that wasn’t on purpose, right? It had to be some coincidence that he put you within sight of his office. That, or maybe he was keeping a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t fuck up.

Either way, you felt a thrill of both exhilaration and apprehension run through you all at once, knowing you’d easily be able to sneak a glance at him whenever you wanted.

God, you were so juvenile. 

“No reason,” you lied, trying to get a hold of yourself. 

The job was going to be interesting, to say the least.

***

August 6, 1996; R.P.D.

The days bled into weeks.

The team seemed to accept you into the fold with ease, your experience in the force something they respected despite your lack of the more elite training a majority of them had received during their time in the military. 

That was something that Wesker and Marini would rectify, however, having you spend time with each member of the team to learn their trade. 

They wanted you to be their everyman, someone who could fill any role in case someone was unavailable and their particular expertise was required. But what they needed most was a medic, and that was the first thing you were trained in upon your official induction to S.T.A.R.S.

You had always been a quick study, building up your skills rapidly. You found yourself making fast friendships with your teammates, immediately falling into stride while on missions.

The constant learning, the fighting, the delicious adrenaline of a dangerous assignment well done–it sang in your veins. You had enjoyed your time as a patrol officer and missed working with Kevin and the others, but this team felt like home. 

And even with the guilt you still felt for leaving Kevin behind, your friendship was steadfast like he had promised, telling you he’d just apply again. You managed to convince him to go out bar-hopping with some of the team and it didn't even end in disaster, to your relief. 

If you were content before, you were positively radiant with joy now, feeling more energetic and ready to take on the world than you had in years. 

Even your father, who never really accepted your desire to be on the force despite his military background, could see you were happy and commented on it. He told you he was proud of you, something you’d rarely heard from his mouth. It brought you to tears to hear it.

Maybe this was your calling.

It didn’t help that the captain took note of your aptitude, and although rare, his praise was something you started to yearn for. It was honestly pathetic, you were well aware, but you couldn’t stop the swell of self-satisfaction you felt when he told you how good of a job you were doing.

You’d be lying if you said that his approval wasn’t one of the reasons you tried so hard, but no one had to know. So you let yourself secretly bask in the occasional attention.

You had to admit, though, to your own chagrin, that your crush on your superior was getting a little out of control. The things he did had you going crazy, second-guessing his intentions with every interaction.

It started with him gripping your shoulder ever-so-lightly as he peered over it to check your report progress, which had you stiffening like a board in your seat.

“Good work,” he had said, the words making your heart skip a beat before he moved away like nothing happened. 

And then came the light touches, like a tap against your arm to get your attention, or brushing your fingers with his own as you handed something over to him. 

It was all innocent enough. You could pass it off as incidental, or as your growing desperation for his returning affection making you imagine he could have any real interest in you beyond your position on the team. 

You’d never been good at deciphering signals like that anyway. Kevin had to speak quite plainly for you to realize he liked you as more than a friend.

But then you’d find yourself glancing every so often into Wesker’s office to discover he was already looking at you. You were quick to avert your gaze, but you could still feel the heat of his stare long after your eyes had fallen back to your desk.

It made you wonder.

“We still on for Friday?” Chris asked you, pulling you from your daydreaming.

You smiled as your head fell to the side of your chair to look at the man—who was becoming one of your closest friends in record time—and remembered your plans for the weekend.

He was shocked you had never ridden on a motorcycle before and was adamant he take you on a ride one day. You told him Friday evenings were preferable so that you didn’t have to rush back home to get ready for work the next morning.

You informed him it wasn’t a date, however, and he had rolled his eyes.

“If it was a real date, you’d know,” he said, a mirthful gleam in his gaze.

“I thought you said you’d behave, Redfield,” you teased, smacking his arm at the implication. 

“Well, I have, haven’t I?”

“And you better keep it that way.”

He looked at you expectantly and you could laugh at the expression on his face. He was awfully cute for such a buff guy. Like a teddy bear.

“Sure are,” you replied finally, offering a wink and a finger gun.

“Good, cos there’s this great burger joint I found a few towns over. You’ll love it.” 

“Greasy food and a long drive? You’re speaking my language, Redfield.”

“What can I say? You seem the type.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, laughing.

He shrugged. “Just a woman of simple pleasures, I guess.” 

You scoffed in mock defense. “My pleasures can be plenty extravagant, I’ll have you know.”

“I don’t know, but you can show me.” 

Your mouth dropped at his sheer audacity and he gave you a shit-eating grin. 

You reached over and flicked his nose as hard as you could, making him flinch backward, to your satisfaction. 

“Can you guys stop flirting while I’m trying to work?” Kenneth said from a few desks over. 

“Hey, that’s all on him, okay?” you defended, standing up.

“Where are you going?” Chris asked, brow raised. “I didn’t offend you that badly, did I?”

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist, Redfield. I’m just gonna grab a coffee. Try not to cry too hard when I leave.” 

He shook his head at you, turning back to his desk as you waved, backing out of the office. 

It was a bit quiet today, as several of the S.T.A.R.S. members were on an assignment. 

You’d normally prefer to be out there with them, but goofing off with Chris always made doing paperwork more bearable. You still worried about your other teammates, though, a little tense as you awaited their updates over the radio and hopeful return to the R.P.D. 

You made your way casually to the break room, which was usually uninhabited this time of the morning. You liked it that way, making it easy for you to enjoy a moment of peace as you sipped on your hot beverage in comfortable silence.

You put on a fresh pot, leaning idly against the counter as you waited, wondering what your team was up to at that very moment.

Finally, the coffee was brewed, and you were quick to make up your drink, perching on the counter this time, your legs dangling. You technically weren’t supposed to be sitting there, something Marvin got onto you for several times in the past. But the room was empty, so you didn’t care.

After a couple of minutes, you found your mind wandering back to your captain, something it often did these days. 

You liked to imagine taking off his sunglasses fully to really display his features. You thought about what his hair looked like when it wasn’t slicked back, how it would feel between your fingers. You bit your lip as you envisioned what he looked like under his uniform, what it would be like to run your hands down his taut abs, and then lower.

Your brain started to enter certified gutter territory when the door to the break room suddenly opened, and you were met with an all too familiar figure striding towards you. 

Speak of the devil.

You could feel your cheeks redden as you looked upon Wesker himself, cursing your mind for the dirty thoughts you were just ruminating on seconds ago.

He greeted you coolly as he approached you, pouring himself a cup.

“Captain,” you offered in return. “How was the meeting with the chief?”

He frowned slightly, placing the cup on the countertop, his tone laced with a hint of vitriol, “About as well as usual.”

“That bad, huh?” you tried to joke, unsure of where to go from there.

That always seemed to be the case with the captain. You would attempt to conversate with him, maybe even get to know him, and he would deflect or give the most minimal or cryptic response. 

But sometimes… Sometimes your probing worked and he would open up a little bit.

“Mm,” was his only reply.

Guess today wasn’t one of those days.

You deflated at that, feeling awkward as you took a sip of your drink, looking away from him.

Thinking that was it, you were shocked when he moved closer, standing directly in front of you before leaning forward. 

You short-circuited as his face neared yours, and your breath hitched at the thought of him kissing you right then and there.

Your lips parted as you stared at him, waiting for him to make a move.

Before you knew it, he pulled back, a stirring straw between his fingers.

“Just needed this,” he informed you.

You felt embarrassed at your reaction, but you could have sworn you saw a knowing smirk grace his lips before he grabbed his cup and left the room.

You shook your head, pressing your hand over your heart as you tried to calm it.

But as you jumped off the counter, ready to get back to work, a realization struck you.

He never added sugar or cream. What was there to stir?

This man, you thought, laughing airily to yourself. He’s gonna be the death of me.

***

September 13, 1996; R.P.D.

“You fight like a girl,” Chris taunted as the two of you circled each other, your fists raised and ready to strike.

“Oh, we’re going that route, are we? Trying to piss me off enough to lose my cool?” you replied with a sneer. “Dirty trick, Redfield.” 

You were both drenched in sweat, having been at this for several minutes. 

You were good at fighting, your teen years spent in hallway smackdowns and mixed martial arts classes, plus the police training as an adult. But Chris’s skills far outweighed your own, a big reason why you ever sparred with him to begin with. He always beat you in these matches, though you were getting better every time.

And today you were going to take him down.  

“Not a trick if it’s true.” At that moment he lunged forward, aiming for your stomach.

This was what you were waiting for the whole fight, dodging his punches and kicks and landing smaller but quicker hits between them. He was fast for a big dude, but you were faster. 

You just had to pick the right moment. 

You dropped low as he lurched forward, using his own momentum and catching him off balance.

He fell to the ground face first and you were quick to pounce, straddling his back and holding his arms behind him with all your strength.

You could feel the muscles of his arms flexing in your own as he tried to pull out of your grasp, but at this angle, he had no leverage. 

“Alright, alright. I yield,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked meanly, tilting your head forward.

“I yield and you won. Happy?” he said more loudly, just to appease you.

“Hell yeah!” you shouted, releasing your hold on him.

You pulled out your mouthguard, pumping your gloved fist in the air, the excitement of taking Chris down for the first time making you giddy. 

You leapt to your feet, holding your hand out to help him up. “Wanna go another round, Redfield?” 

“Would if I could,” he said, taking off the velcro straps of one of his gloves with his teeth after removing his own rubber piece from behind his lips.

“Oh, scared I’ll beat you again?” you teased, walloping him in the gut good-naturedly.

He knocked aside your hand as he rolled his eyes. “You know I have to go pick up Claire from the airport. Otherwise, I’d put you in your place.”

“I’m choosing to ignore that last part,” you said, plopping down on the floor for a quick break and ripping off your own gloves. “You two still coming over for dinner tomorrow night? You know, so I can finally meet her?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he told you with a grin, gathering his gear and heading toward the men’s locker room. “Seeya then!” 

“I better!” you called, watching him as he slipped through the door.

You fell onto your back and starfished out on the mat, your exhaustion from the match finally catching up to you. 

A part of you still wanted to go another round, wondering if anyone from your team was still hanging around the precinct. You could even hit up your buddies in the east and west offices. Rita always loved a good fight with you.

“That was impressive,” a deep voice rang out. 

With a jolt, you sat upright, looking wide-eyed at the man walking towards you.

“Captain!” you exclaimed. “You saw that?”

“I did,” he told you. “Chris is one of my best fighters, so that was no easy feat.”

You wanted to accept the full glory of such a compliment, but you had the suspicion that Chris was holding back the whole fight. “I think he took it easy on me, to be honest.” 

“Well, he shouldn’t have underestimated you, then. His mistake.” 

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, only able to offer him a bashful smile, changing the subject in order to hide the way his words affected you, “What brings you to the gym anyway?”

He was still in his S.T.A.R.S. uniform, so clearly he wasn’t already exercising when he happened upon your sparring match with Chris. 

“I usually complete my workouts early in the day, but Chief Irons’s emergency call this morning was quite the disruption to my schedule.”

“Better late than never, I guess.” You let out a shrill giggle that sounded unnatural coming from your mouth, making yourself wince at your own awkwardness.

“Indeed,” he said, scanning the room. “Would you be up for another round? Unlike Chris, I have no intention of going easy on you.” 

Had you imagined the dark lilt in his voice as he spoke those last few words? Something about it made your spine tingle.

You were nervous at the idea of sparring with the captain, though, mainly because you knew he was the best at combat in S.T.A.R.S., even above Chris. And if you were only just now able to take Chris down in a match, knowing full well he didn’t put his all into the fight, you had no chance against Wesker. 

You weren’t exactly leaping at the opportunity to get humiliated by your boss, but the thought of him touching you, even in a violent way, gave you pause in declining his offer.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” you eventually agreed.

“Excellent. I’ll be right back.” He left for a few minutes to change into his athleticwear, something you realized you’d never seen him in until now. The thought drove you a little crazy. You shoved the guard back in your mouth and returned your gloves to your hands in anticipation.

He came back into the room in a well-fitted white t-shirt and black sweatpants. You felt your face heat up as you drank in his appearance and the way the fabric clung to his body. You never thought someone could look so hot in sweats, and yet.

He pulled on his gloves as he joined you on the mat, sunglasses still on his face and no protective piece of rubber in sight.

“Uh, sir, shouldn’t you wear a mouthguard?” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” he assured, nonchalant as he got into position in front of you, “I won’t need it.”

Bewildered by his confidence, you matched his stance, putting up your hands.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

Before you could even blink, he was on you, immediately throwing a punch that sent you staggering back a step. 

You recovered swiftly, able to dodge the next one, though barely.

You were shocked by how lithe and quick on his feet he was, considering his height and the fact he was a decade older than you.

You went for a low blow at his side, hoping to open his guard for a second hit. 

He blocked it with ease before punching you in the gut so hard, it winded you.

“Keep your guard up,” he instructed, giving you the barest of moments to recuperate before he landed his next strike.

You were struggling to find an opening, so you had to desperately dodge and weave in hopes of catching him unawares. You knew you wouldn’t have enough momentum to charge him, as he wouldn’t let you back away far enough. You worried if you tried to kick him, he’d just pull your feet from under you. 

Maybe you could trip him?

That would be your best bet of getting him on the ground.

You narrowly avoided a kick to the chest, realizing now was your chance before he could stand in a more stable position.

You quickly swept your leg out, aiming straight for his ankles.

Before you could finish the movement, however, he was able to grapple you with ease, your world spinning as he flipped you spine-first onto the mat, pinning you there.

You were breathing heavily as you tried to loosen his grip, your frustration mounting at the obvious futility of it.

“Fine, I yield,” you finally admitted, slumping back against the mat in defeat.

Your eyes snapped up when you heard him chuckle above you, the man barely having broken a sweat. 

“You lasted longer than I expected,” he told you as he leaned down, the suggestive smirk on his face crashing you back to the reality that he was on top of you, his face mere inches from your own. 

He hovered for a moment, almost teasingly, before releasing you and standing up.

He pulled off one of his gloves and held his hand out for you to take as he said, “You need to work on predicting your opponent’s next move, my dear.”

“Duly noted,” you replied as you let him help you to your feet, feeling embarrassed by your blunders throughout the whole match. 

But there was something else too. 

The rush you felt as he pinned you down would fuel your fantasies for weeks to come.

He gave you a small smile, stunning you as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, an incredibly tender action considering what had just transpired between you. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

Oh, you were in for it now.

***

November 5, 1996; Raccoon Forest

The day had taken an unexpected turn, one that you couldn’t help but be grateful for.

Just over an hour ago, you had been sitting in the S.T.A.R.S. office, arguing with Forest over which popular rock bands would win in a bar brawl when Wesker and Marini strode into the room, the purpose in their steps indicating one thing and one thing only:

A new mission briefing. 

There had been a robbery at the Johnson National Bank and the eight culprits had scattered to the winds. Intel suggested they had run off to the Raccoon Forest, up near the town of Cedar, but there were a handful of places they had been seen in and around the area. It was decided that a few members of the team (and yourself) would be splitting up into groups to check out the different locations.

And that led to you sitting in the passenger seat of one of the R.P.D.’s unmarked vans, Wesker behind the wheel. 

You were more than a little shocked by his decision to have the two of you go alone on this assignment, the man usually sticking to larger groups or remaining behind in the S.T.A.R.S. office to have a better hold of the situation. This time, he left Marini in charge, to everyone’s bewilderment. It didn’t last long, however, the team immediately jumping into action. 

You, though? You were dazed. Giddy, even.

You came into work everyday just hoping you’d have another moment alone with him like some blushing schoolgirl, happy as a clam to be given any opportunity.

Over the last few weeks, he had continued his maddening gestures of light touches and shared glances (which seemed to be a constant these days, to your delight), and you had sparred several times since that very first match. 

He always managed to pin you to the ground, no matter how much you’d been improving, and despite your competitive nature making you want to win just once, you couldn’t help but relish the physical contact combat training with him brought. You still enjoyed and learned a lot from your matches with Chris, but Wesker was the better teacher. Maybe that was the infatuation talking, though.

And now you were sitting alone with him, heading towards a cabin in the woods.

It would almost be romantic if you took the armed robbers out of the equation.

The relatively long drive was quite tense, however, and you tried desperately multiple times to ease it with mindless smalltalk. The captain was very clearly uninterested in that. 

And so the last stretch of the trip was completely silent, save for the occasional chatter of your team over the radio.

You spent most of the ride staring out at the passing trees, picking at your cuticles as you were oft to do. 

“You should stop doing that.” 

You startled at Wesker’s voice in the quiet vehicle, whipping your head around to face him. He glanced at you only for a moment before putting his attention back on the road ahead.

“Nervous habit,” you mumbled, feeling like a scolded child.

He didn’t respond, but you continued to look at him anyway. 

You admired the slope of his nose, his strong jawline, and the way he seemed to be made of only hard lines and sharp edges. How someone so cold could set you ablaze was beyond you.

Maybe you just wanted what you couldn’t have.

He half-turned back to you, meeting your gaze with a slight quirk of his brow. “Yes?”

“Nothing!” you said a little too quickly, embarrassed you had been caught outright ogling him in such close quarters. 

He let out a faint snicker, and when you peered over at him, you saw the smug smile that graced his lips. You were expeditious in returning your eyes to the window, not wanting him to see the heat blooming in your face.

Did he have any inkling as to what he did to you? How he affected you so severely, it must have changed the wiring of your brain? 

He had to know, right? At least somewhat? The way he’d tease you or smirk at you had to mean something. 

He’s still my boss, you reminded yourself. It wouldn’t matter if he knew. It wouldn’t matter if he felt even a fraction of the same way. Nothing good would come of it.

You knew that.

Still, you thought of sapphires. 

You remained facing away from him until he pulled down a dirt road and parked the van between some trees, giving you ample cover from prying eyes. 

You sat up straight, unbuckling your seatbelt as you turned to him for instruction, knowing when to set aside your feelings for the sake of the job.

The plan was simple enough: the two of you would circle the perimeter before advancing in on the cabin. If there was any indication that more than at least two of the perps were present, you would return to the van and call for backup. Otherwise, you could proceed with searching the small building and possibly make an arrest.

The captain informed the team of your whereabouts and of the plan, a couple of them already through with their inspections, finding nothing. He told them to remain on standby while you and the others conducted your own search. 

“Stay close to me,” Wesker warned as the two of you readied your guns, carefully making your way to the clearing where the old wooden cabin sat.

You and the captain checked the surrounding area, noting there weren’t any vehicles present, though the tire tracks in the dirt just outside the building were fresh.

There were no lights on inside the cabin as you approached the door, waiting for Wesker’s orders. He had you pick the lock, which you did with relative ease, before he went in ahead of you, gun first. 

The place was a mess, beer bottles and other garbage littering every surface. It smelled of mildew and sweat, which made you crumple your nose in disgust as you shuffled silently through the tiny rooms.

You followed Wesker as he entered the final space–a bedroom–and ripped the closet door open to find it empty, save for a stack of shoe boxes in the corner.

“All clear at the cabin,” he said, both to you and the radio. “We’re going to search the place more thoroughly. Tell me if anything changes on your end. Over.” 

You heard a chorus of “copy that” as you lowered your gun, feeling more relaxed as you began looking for either the stolen money or clues to the thieves’ current whereabouts.

“This place looks like it’s been abandoned a while,” you mused, taking in the state of the seventies-style furniture and the building itself. 

It was all covered in a thick layer of gray dust, except for what had been kicked up or swept away by the fugitives staying here–the dark wood of the floors, walls, and ceiling cracking and rotting in some places.

“Many of the cabins out here were built nearly a hundred years ago, mostly inhabited by hunters and trappers,” Wesker told you as he scanned his surroundings, ever calculating. “When Umbrella made their home in Arklay county and the population grew, a lot of the properties were bought up and remodeled.”

“I wonder why this place was abandoned, then.”

Wesker shrugged. “More people started moving into the city.”

“Good ole urbanization, huh?” you joked, offering him a grin. “I wish I had the money to buy a place like this. Would be nice to have a little vacation home. Always loved the forest here.”

“Though I believe I could thrive anywhere,” he replied with a sniff, “I much prefer the city.”

You laughed. “Fair enough. I do like to visit the more rural areas, but you can take all my city conveniences from my cold, dead hands.”

You heard him huff out a chuckle in response, something that always made you weak in the knees to hear it–to know he found you amusing. What you would give to hear a real, unrestrained, honest to god belly laugh from him, though. You wondered if he was capable of such a thing. You couldn’t even imagine a sound like that coming from someone so poised and put-together.

“Well, would you look at this,” Wesker remarked, drawing you back to reality. When you turned to him, he had fallen to one knee, prying open a floorboard in the dining room. “Appears I’ve discovered their stash.”

You rushed over to him, peeking over his shoulder to see rows and rows of stacked bills, shoved into a compartment built under the floor.

“How did you even find this?” you questioned in shock. You were pretty observant, but something like this never would have crossed your mind, least of all how to access it.

“The mountains were a safer place to store alcohol during the prohibition. Some of these old cabins had secret compartments and rooms installed to hide their contraband,” he explained before pointing at the loose piece of wood held aloft in his hand. “And I noticed these fingerprints in the dust along the edges.”

“My very own Sherlock Holmes,” you said, awestruck. “I could really learn a thing or two from you, huh, Detective?”

“Elementary, my dear Watson.”

You stared openmouthed at him for a moment before bursting into a laugh, not expecting him to play along. 

He looked up and your heart stopped as he smiled at you. Teeth and all. You couldn’t recall having ever witnessed such a genuine expression on his face, the realization filling you with an unprecedented warmth.

Before you could fully appreciate this momentous occasion, you heard a creak from behind you in the kitchen. You both snapped your attention to the direction of the noise, pulling your guns from their holsters.

Wesker stood, holding a finger to his lips as the two of you crept forward into the room. You looked around, checking the pantry, fridge, and the inside of every cabinet, but there was nothing amiss.

You took a steadying breath. “Must’ve been the house settling.”

Wesker nodded and you moved away from him, ready to make your way out of the cramped space as you returned your weapon to your belt.

You were nearing the entrance to the kitchen when Wesker suddenly called out, “Wait–”

His voice was cut off by the crash that sounded beside you.

A door hidden in the wall flung open, two men barreling out of the space behind it and right towards you.

You let out a yelp as one of them took you tumbling to the ground, too fast and too close to have pulled out your gun in time to prevent it.

The man was huge, heavier than even Chris as he bore down his whole weight on top of you.

You kneed him in the groin as he tried to hold down your arms, the pain making him falter. 

You managed to flip him onto his back, pulling your gun out once more as he struggled against you. He stopped when he saw the barrel pointed directly at his face.   

You flinched when you heard a shot ring out, the sound of a body hitting the floor making you jerk your head around to make sure that your captain was the one still standing.

You realized your error too late when the man below you grabbed for your gun while you were distracted.

You had the chance to shoot, knowing that if he managed to yank it from your grasp, he’d blow your brains out in a heartbeat. 

But you had never killed anyone–never wanted to kill anyone. 

You knew a violence stirred within you. It was the reason you even ended up here in the first place. But murder? Even in self-defense, even justified, you were terrified of pulling the trigger. 

This was something you could never come back from.  

And so you made another grave mistake.

You hesitated.

Although your grip on the firearm was secure and he couldn’t tug it out of your hands, he used his strength over you to twist the barrel away from him and towards you instead.

You fought to regain control as he shoved it closer and closer to your face.

With nothing left to do, you pushed down hard, the firearm pointed sideways, to your relief.

But the pressure of the action forced your finger against the trigger, the gun going off between you.

You both reeled back from the noise, your would-be killer loosening his hold just enough for you to rip your handgun away from him. 

But before you could even rack the slide and point it towards the man once again, another shot was fired. 

You felt the man below you go limp and you sat there, stunned, as you watched the blood pour out of the hole in his head, collecting in a pool on the dirty kitchen tiles.

Hands trembling from the adrenaline, you stood up, taking in the bodies of the two robbers that laid before you, splashes of dark red now decorating the wall and floor. 

“Thank you, Captain,” you said, eyeing the carnage with barely repressed nausea. “That was too close.” 

You heard a hiss of pain behind you and you spun on your heels, finding Wesker with a snarl on his face as he held his hand to the side of his neck.

“Captain..?” you questioned, voice filled with concern as you stepped towards him.

That’s when you saw it–the crimson rivulets that ran down his wrist, staining the blue of his shirt.

You panicked, rushing forward. “Oh my god, you’re bleeding!”

You reached out to him, quickly pulling away his hand to assess the damage. It was a small, open wound. Thankfully, it wasn’t deep, and no major arteries had been afflicted.

He was clearly grazed by a bullet if the hole in the cabinet behind his head was any indication. 

But when had he been shot? 

He must have seen you trying to replay the scene in your head, counting the gunshots you recalled hearing, when he spoke with a low voice. 

“You hesitated.”

That was right. Your gun had gone off, facing away from both you and the perp. 

It had hit him.

You stopped breathing when it registered in your brain, the sickening awareness of the fact that it was the bullet from your gun that had injured him–that had nearly killed him–making your heart sink into your gut.

“Oh god. Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I can’t–'' He placed a firm, grounding hold on your arm with his free hand and you took a sharp breath in. You had to get it together. Your guilt could wait until he stopped bleeding, at least. “Come on, my medkit’s in the van.”

The two of you rushed outside and to the vehicle in question. You opened the back of it, having him sit on the edge of the cargo space as you scrounged in your kit for supplies.

You got to work on the wound, Wesker explaining the situation over the radio, requesting assistance from Chief Irons to handle the stolen money and the corpse clean-up. You were grateful he didn’t mention your almost fatal misstep, simply telling the chief that he had been injured.

Once that was handled and you finished covering the gash on his neck, you gently pressed your fingers to it, your eyes finally filling with tears now that he was all patched up.

Normally, you’d be over the moon to be this close to him–to be touching him–but not like this. It was tainted by your error in judgment. By your inability to do what had to be done. 

“I should have taken the shot,” you whispered with a quivering voice full of shame and regret, incapable of looking at him.

You felt him grip your wrist and your watery gaze traveled to his visage, his mouth in a tight line, whatever emotion could be shown in his eyes hidden behind his shades.

“You should have,” he agreed, “but you didn’t.”

You felt a sob catch in your throat. 

“And I should have noticed the hidden door sooner. But I didn’t. Nothing to be done about it now.”

You gaped at how blase he was being. You would rather him be angry with you than whatever this was. You deserved his vitriol right now. Not this calm acceptance.

“Captain, you were hurt because of me!” you cried, your fingers digging into his shirt as your tears spilled down your cheeks. “You nearly died!”

Your breath hitched as he brought his unbloodied hand to cup your face, his thumb wiping away the droplets falling in its path. 

“So did you,” he responded, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’m willing to take a bullet if it means sparing you.”

You could feel your heart swelling in your chest, unable to tamp down the affection that threatened to erupt from that locked-up place inside of you, where you had been hiding your growing feelings for your dear captain.

And, without a single sensible thought left to stop you, you surged forward and kissed him.

His lips were soft, and you could almost laugh at yourself for being shocked by such a revelation. He might’ve looked like he was made of marble, but his skin was pliant as any man’s. You had built him up so much in your head, you sometimes forgot that he was human too.

He tensed and you pulled back instantly, panic rising with the thought that you had gone off the deep end this time.

First, you nearly killed your boss, and then you kissed him? All within roughly fifteen minutes? 

Surely, there was a record for something like that.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten–”

Before you could even finish your sentence, however, he tugged you towards him once more, kissing you so hard it made your toes curl inside of your boots.

When he released you, you were dazed, the feel and taste of his mouth so consuming, you were sure you’d be dreaming about it for weeks to come.

You wanted to say something–to tell him how long you had wanted to do that for–but the words died on your tongue at the sound of a vehicle fast approaching.

You sighed as you stepped away from him to create some distance, not wanting to expose whatever it was that had just passed between you.

You heard Chris and Jill calling out and you yelled back, alerting them to your location in the brush beside the road.

Before they could arrive, though, Wesker grabbed you by the jaw and pulled you into one final, searing kiss.

You had felt fire before–it was in your nature to chase whatever flame compelled you–but this? 

This was wild. Untamed. An inferno to boil your blood and burn up every shred of common sense you had left.

There was no way to contain it anymore. No way to put it out.

All you could do now was ignite.

--------------------

Masterlist | Previous | Next

[katie-the-bug]

Left Behind 2: Electric Boogaloo

Tribulation Force, the sequel to Left Behind, is a long book in which nothing happens and nothing continues to happen for chapters on end. If half of this book and half of the last book were cut and the remains were merged into a single book the plot would not suffer. Unlike the last book, which merely made no sense, the choices made in this book are actively frustrating and I have strong words about it. This post is gonna be as long as I can make it. I'm not sorry.

Anyways, for those of you just tuning in, our cast includes:

The Tribulation Force, a core group of post-Rapture Christians whose mission is...unclear:

Rayford Steele, pilot based in Chicago, born-again Christian, father to a Raptured son, husband to a Raptured wife.

Chloe Steele, Rayford's college-aged daughter and only surviving non-Raptured family.

Buck Williams, allegedly the greatest reporter in the world, banished to Chicago for his journalistic failures, also a born-again Christian. He works for "Global Weekly."

Bruce Barnes, the group's pastor and mentor whose lukewarm Christianity and subsequent failure to get Raptured is harped on again and again.

The villains:

Nicolae Carpathia, the most powerful, popular, and charming man in the world and the God-King Secretary-General of the United Nations. Also the Antichrist.

Hattie Durham, formerly a flight attendant and the object of Rayford's illicit desires, now Nicolae's personal assistant and girlfriend.

Chaim Rosenzweig, an Israeli scientist and a friend to both Buck and Nicolae, neither of whom are going to tell him that he's working for the Antichrist.

Without further ado - the first half of the book:

Chapter 1 more or less starts off with Buck arguing with his new manager, one Verna Zee, whom Buck's narration calls a "wanna-be boss who couldn't write her way out of a paper bag." Her crimes are numerous and terrible: taking charge of the Chicago office of the Global Weekly after her superior vanished, refusing to let Buck barge into her office without an appointment, and refusing to feed Buck's massive ego when he claims his journalistic talent is being wasted. Buck's clearly in the wrong here, but Verna is a woman telling a man what to do, so in the authors' minds, she's despicable.

Meanwhile, Rayford's colleagues have resorted to begging him not to proselytize on the job. I seriously doubt that the authors were aiming to set both of their protagonists up as classical assholes, but they've done an excellent job regardless.

Chapter 2 reveals that Nicolae, who is employed by the UN, is working with various religious leaders to create a one-world-religion. I don't know much about the United Nations, but I really don't think inventing new religions is part of their job.

The characters discuss with great anticipation the upcoming peace treaty between the UN and Israel. Israel is a member of the UN, and while there's some talk about how Israel will license its magic fertilizer in exchange for being defended after it disarms itself, it could have licensed the fertilizer already and everyone else is disarming anyway, this makes no sense. But the authors think Israel needs to make a deal with the Antichrist, and so it goes.

Bruce says that, once Israel signs the treaty, "the clock starts ticking" - the seven-year Tribulation will begin, bringing with it human suffering beyond anything seen in history and ultimately the destruction of the world as we know it. This means that if the treaty can be delayed or canceled, so too can the end of the world. The heroes of a better story would use this knowledge to try and save the world. The protagonists of this one don't even think about it.

Chloe wonders whether she should go back to college, knowing that the end of days is nigh, and Bruce cuts in with, "You can go to college right here," "here" being the church. While Chloe won't need the kind of education that could get her a job, she could still go to school for useful skills that will help her and the new Christian community survive the Tribulation, and I think that if she were a male character, this would be the angle the story would take. As it is, Bruce's response carries the all-too-common undertone that the only education a woman needs is religious.

Rayford and Chloe discuss Chloe's interest in Buck, and she remarks that "it wouldn't have been appropriate for her to ask him out by myself." Chloe, you are twenty. And he's thirty, but that's a problem for another day.

At the beginning of Chapter 3, Bruce says, of Hattie's employment, "I don't imagine [Nicolae] chose her for her clerical skills." Every time Hattie comes up or appears in the story, somebody, either the writer or the characters, goes out of their way to insult her. No wonder she likes Nicolae; he probably treats her better than the authors do.

Throughout these first few chapters there's a subplot where neither Buck nor Chloe know what to do about their mutual attraction to each other, and they keep talking about it to everyone but each other and getting absolutely nowhere, saying and thinking the same things over and over while what little plot there is drags on and on. Just a reminder that just because a book is 400 pages long doesn't mean it has any substance.

"Don't involve me in this if it's going to get silly." <- Me to myself before staring this series. If only I had listened.

Buck finally finishes the piece on the Rapture that he was writing for most of the last book, "deciding it might be the best work he had ever done." We see none of it, so Buck's writing credentials remain a myth.

Chapter 3 also takes a few pages to mock Catholics - or, rather, the authors' ideas about how Catholics talk and act - because obviously unity in the Body of Christ is a tool of the devil.

In a sermon about the coming catastrophes, Bruce says "Horrible as these judgements will be, I urge you to see them as final warnings from a loving God who is not willing that any should perish." This after they've just discussed how the first set of judgements will kill a quarter of Earth's surviving population. That does not sound like God being unwilling to kill people. That doesn't even sound like reluctance. God is going to kill a quarter of the Earth's population, knowing that most of them are not True Christians and thus damned, to make an example of them to everyone else. We haven't really gotten into the Tribulation yet, so I haven't talked about it much, but I think we'll find that the God of Left Behind is the most destructive force in the series.

Either Bruce or the authors think that the plural of "millennium" is "millenniums." For shame!

At the beginning of Chapter 4, Bruce preaches about the Antichrist. He knows exactly who the Antichrist is and what he's planning. He does not feel it necessary to share this information with his congregation, answering questions vaguely, even when they concern Nicolae directly. Why does he do this? If I had to guess, he's protecting himself at the expense of his congregation's souls.

Incidentally, I just realized that "Nicolae Carpathia" has the same stress pattern as "Alexander Hamilton" and if I have to live with that knowledge, so do you.

Earlier in the story, Buck had asked a female colleague to drop some things off at his house on her way to pick up her fiancé, at the same time as he had asked Chloe to come over before he changed his plans without telling her. Now, due to coincidence and poor wording, Chloe thinks he's engaged to another woman. Evidently the authors thought that their romantic subplot wasn't stupid enough.

Continuing in the series' grand tradition of characters talking endlessly about every event chapters before it happens, Chaim informs Buck that his buddy, rabbi Tsion Ben-Judah, will be giving a televised presentation on "prophecies relating to Messiah so we Jews will recognize him when he comes." Buck thinks to himself that "a legitimate study of messianic prophecies could lead only to Jesus." This idea, which the authors present as legitimate, that Christians as a whole understand Judaism better than the Jewish people as a whole is ridiculously anti-Semitic - as is the idea that the Jewish people will ignorantly make a deal with the Devil to usher in the end times. Yes, the authors love Israel because of they role it plays in their end-of-the-world fantasy, but they have no respect for Judaism or Jewish people.

Bruce says in Chapter 8 that, "I'll grieve and mourn my wife for a long time, as if she were dead." We return to the idea that people who were Raptured somehow do not qualify as dead, and it occurs to me: from a different perspective, this could make for a really interesting psychological horror premise. "A man loses his family in a mysterious disaster, and he becomes convinced that they are not dead, but have been taken somewhere else. It soon becomes clear that he will do anything to join them..."

I'm running out of letters, so I'm gonna have to end this post right here. Expect more momentarily. Thanks for reading!

[bad4amficideas]

Bat!Reader Childhood HCs

I'm posting random drafts. incomplete. And so. English with translator. I suppect this maybe even double posted. Uhm. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Note: English is not my language, so I hope you will be understanding of any flaws you find.

🦇Look. You wanted the robins (you already called them all robins even if there was more bats than birds) to become such. You wanted Dick, Tim and Duke with their parents alive and well. To Jason, Stephanie and Harper with the best family circumstances they could muster. Barbara, Luke, Carrie being carefree in their lives, Cassandra adopted in a happy place, maybe with Steph who was not her best friend in the comics for nothing. You wish you could have helped Kate (you were working on Helena and Azrael but were working in his legal name in this moment). Mother of God, you wanted to kill Batman for what it cost you to track down all these people, and even so you know you were missing people but you did pretty well and hell, you were working on it as you could.

Spoilers: Duke, Carrie, Harper, Helena, Azrael (Jean Paul & Michael), Luke Fox, and his predecessor Zavimbe. Batwoman's partner, all "saved" (because I don't know them well enough to write about them and part because the Joker died, the rage is over). Most of them now works or gonna work for WE or the GCPD (it's getting competent) anyway.

🦇But. You walked through your home, looking at empty rooms and fantasized about which one would be filling with each batfam. With how they would be in the mornings, growling, sticking their heads out or snorting at each other.

🦇 Having managed to get Alfred, your father in many ways, to move to a room closer to yours; (and you didn't know the peace of mind that gave you until he did it) a part of you longed for more.

🦇As Y/N Wayne you have a special relationship with Oswald since in your childhood circle he was the one who least infantilized you and you could go with him to do silly things and perhaps some "little savagery"

🦇This is important because with your onset of poison resistance your overall status and appearance as a child was always, regardless of your build, "fragile" looking, and most people tended to overprotect you. Someone from the Gotham paper even turned "Wayne's Treasure" into "Wayne's Gem" into "Wayne's Diamond" (more accurate than they think, hard, but brittle).

🦇Even Roman and Thomas were careful not to go too far in their abuse so people wouldn't say anything to them, which is what started the “they do that to you because they like you"- crap. It also doesn't help that you cousin (who was in her own traumatic moment) was one punch away from letting both of their noses loose. Like, minefield.

🦇Bats met Harvey Dent in high school. And Bats it's very surprised how easy it's to surround oneself with vips (villains-in-progress) in their city. In this AU, Harvey met "the gang" at Gotham Academy for a scholarship since he comes from a middle-class background here. So, to him find the golden child of Gotham being kind and humble and always treating him as an equal and taking his ideas into account. That touches the ego of any adolescent.

🦇Not that Bats didn't know a lot of other people, but Harvey was the only one who put up with the bullshit and bullying of Bats "friends" (putting him further on the road to district attorney ironically). Bats is sure they recognized the names of some Batman's love interests, or at least one female journalist, but they couldn't get close enough to find out.

🦇Their -Harvey's- friendship quickly gelled. Both idealists with similar political positions and true desire to do good for Gotham. A breath of fresh air for Bats, surrounded by two cynicals and a girl in a conflicting phase. Despite the fate that hung at the end of the Dent line Bats couldn't help but think how good it would be to have someone like Dent on their side, especially with the owls swarming and all the normal villains that would have to be put forever behind bars first, if they wanted to even think about the ones in colored costumes.

🦇Anyway, shortly after that year/s there was a disconnect with the world as Bats was abducted by the League of Assassins and then trained for 2 years until they was 18 when they ran away, comes back to Gotham and became Bats (and almost at the same time the tragedy of the circus happened but you're still catching up and you don't know that)

🦇I just realized, mathematically, I've made Dick a terrifying murderous prodigy. Fear, enemies of the Court, now the rhyme is legitimately scary.

🦇Continuing with LoA, Reader, you were there for two years and apart from apparently they trying getting you married and being a worthy possible successor, you left –run away- without having a clue what those people wanted with you. Problem. that's exactly what they wanted, the same thing they wanted in another world with Batman, you weren't going to get anything else no matter how much you snoop, but you refused to assimilate that idea, because “why me?” (If you wanna know, among others, they had noticed your private training and how you had been moving to "take Gotham" and other key points on the planet, as if it were your chessboard)

🦇At that time you really didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Or whether to be deeply indignant. This SURE didn't happen to Batman. Wasn't he volunteer to train in the League? Or after 18 anyway? You were already mixing things by stress. Or maybe were the multiverses in your head. What the hell were they doing kidnapping you to train you and shit about weddings? Okay, a couple thing happened to Bruce, but, You were a teenager. What was the word, grooming? Didn't these people have better things to do, like take over the world? to kill people? Also, what's the point of wanting a successor, IF YOU'RE FUCKING IMMORTAL, let's explain.

🦇And then. After you come back, you, Reader, have a lot of people to catch up with and a lot, LOT of explaining to do. And the damn entry into high society and active involvement in Wayne business... But hey, no one appreciates that you escaped from a cult group of super assassins ninjas who btw were still discussing who will you marry when you left. In order not to let women inherit, they are very progressive in everything else.

🦇 At least Alfred believes you. At least you can tell him the truth. On the other hand, it's the truth, imagine if he didn't believe you, having spent two years with a family that has been grooming you at the same time that training you to kill in 50 forms with a spoon. And luckily the batcave was almost set up, you only needed the suit and put together a coherent story of your two years of disappearance (because there is no way you will go through the high school for the third time, being that the League had homeschooled you those years, again). Oh, but some villains were teachers in college. And maybe that could delay your entry into the world of work. Maybe that was worth the try?

🦇The worst is that. Two years and your careful planning went almost all to the fret. Your straps, broken. Dent, thank God, is an attorney and there is nothing unusual about him. But the other two according to the intel you're starting to gather go already for Hush and Black Mask and have the underworld criminal city terrified, Oswald has some dirty things going, you know nothing about Kate but your guess is in the Military Academy, you will inquire, all doctors of their specialties are loaded in their guns (as who says) and, dammit two years and you weren't even in vacations! not fair!

🦇 Aggg, all hurry up and running now. Luckily you had years of planning, but you were afraid of making a mistake. And as soon as you got dressed, the clown would appear because that’s how Murphy works. Some things had been sped up, some had changed, you should start tracking all the robins for their safety...

🦇And you would throw some money and ideas at the Justice League and have them manage without you. They had a forensic and a demigoddess of war and truth, by all deities, they would manage.

Moar spoilers: Villains who did not pass the look of Bats or have been permanently "secured" in Gotham before do actual -big- damage: Falcone, Maroni, Zucco, Professor Pyg, Man-Bat (Ally, it never get to go through that crap), Jeremiah Arkham (diagnosed by out burn before it out of hands), King Tut (who the hell is this??), Clayface, Calendar Man, Condiment King, Deacon Blackfire, Dollmaker, Flamingo, James Gordon Jr., Jane Doe, King Snake (Bane did this), Prometheus (Green arrow doing), Sewer King (no kids in Jason watch), Solomon Grundy. And not just kill anyone who recreates in the pain of others.

🦇: Damn it, I'm one (1) Bat. I'm. NOT. Batman.

[thousand-winters]

Hey pal, I hope you're doing well and that the weather is nice over there! 💖

For the ao3 writer wrapped 3, 6, 18, 20, and 29!

Hey there! Thank you 💕 The weather is so cold, haha, but I suppose good enough, I'm just more of a warm weather creature, ngl.

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

You'll only get halfway. It was a long shot that something like this would actually happen in the show haha, and ultimately I'm happy with how it ended but I still really love this concept and I think I did a nice job with it! Also terribly proud of the title, that one I was like "I know no one will ask, so I'm going to explain it anyway because otherwise I'll explode" ahahaha.

6. Favorite title you used.

Children of dust and ashes. I have a vision there, the name and lyrics of the song it comes from fit SO well for that fandom and the particular idea. It was connecting so nicely in my brain, sadly I don't think anyone in that fandom is interested and it bummed me out so it's just there now but oh, well.

That or Precious cargo, bleeding heart. Listen, listen, I have a vision there too, I always have a vision for my titles haha. Most of them come from songs too, so this one actually has another part that's not actually there because it didn't feel overall relevant. In my mind, and for the vibe of this fic in particular, it goes like: "precious cargo" is Darius, "bleeding heart" is Asphalia/his palisman, "paper tiger" is Eberwolf and "posioned dart" is the mentor. Thoughts were had when I picked that one.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Alador freakin' Blight.

Part of the problem is probably that there are inconsistencies with him in the writing of the show itself but oh, how I struggled with him anyway haha. In the end I'm pleased with how he came out though I'm not 100% sure that I got him right. Good enough for all the blood and tears.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

I'm gonna assume posted, but the answer is different if we're talking wips.

I don't tend to reread my fics often, lowkey only if I share them with someone because I want to see them through their eyes as they could read it. But the one I've reread the most is probably The stars too, they tell of spring returning, mostly because it's a multichapter, so sometimes I need to check some details I included or I want to see if I'm keeping the same tone I started with.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

I have the memory of a goldfish, but from what I can remember, I'm partial to this one:

But the Force won't listen. It didn't when his men turned their blasters on their own, it didn't when his student, his kid, was shot without mercy, it didn't when his people were massacred and the survivors forced to flee. This girl and him are reliques of a past era. They're all alone in a galaxy that wants them dead. Nobody is listening. Maybe he can still try.

Thanks for the ask, friend!!! 💖

From this ask game.

[maeve-is-annoying-about-books]

Live Read Thread: House of Leaves

What I know and Foreword:

I only first heard of this book because of that one video about the really impressive DOOM wad. It was mentioned a few times offhand and then some pictures of the page layouts were put up and I was intrigued. But like a week later it slipped from my mind, until a friend who's a literature fan told me she had been reading it due to a totally unrelated incident. At that same time my partner had just seen the video I had and also encouraged me to give it a look, so I went down to the bookstore my next chance.

All I knew going into it was that it was a spooky book with inventive formatting, I really thought it'd be just that, but I'm five chapters in and it brought me here to record my thoughts without disturbing the other poor dears in my life. So without further ado I'll start posting my thoughts chapter by chapter, starting with what I've read so far.

Ugh, get that clinical analysis tone outta your blog, Maeve.

The foreword here by Johnny Truant is the most enticing warning to a book I think I've read. He's an absolute trainwreck of a man who just started to get something arguably good in his life when this old man just drops his House of Leaves on him. Like I know it's too early to have a title drop pun but what else do you call this complete mess of papers and napkins Zampanò has?

Anyway, it's this long and rambling piece about how curiosity devolved into obsession, and how strange things have been costing Johnny here his sleep. Strange marks on Zampanò's floor, the endless random stuff arranged around him, his curious habit of writing a book on filmography when he is very blind. And of course, Johnny's paroxysms of panic around this life work. It's almost... trite? Trite, like he's saying "oh it's a spooky book with a spooky monster oh it's gonna getcha if you read it!" I swear I nearly put it down.

Then these last few passages hit differently. And suddenly I wasn't looking at Johnny the loser drifter, suddenly I was painfully inside this man's soul. This like... fear or change in him that's so fundamentally different from his usual griping self. It was all at this line that I got pulled back in:

"You might try then, as I did, to find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again. Only no sky can blind you now. Even with all that iridescent magic up there, your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trace the constellations. You'll only care about the darkness and you'll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you're some kind of indispensable, universe-appointed sentinel., as if just by looking you could actually keep it all at bay."

Reading this at one o'clock at night in an empty, dark house wasn't so great for my mental state. This passage and the ones leading directly too it are just so... drawing, so latently terrifying in a way I don't know if I can describe. And this nebulous sort of fear of... Of what, the dark? The expanse? Nothingness? Nonexistence? played me like a damned cello. I think my spine hit a high C and I knew I had to read the book. I know exactly how it's going to ruin me and it's so different from getting jumpscared in another slasher movie.

So, let's take a look. What's the worst that could happen?

[tianaluxtalks]

I told myself that I have to get back to journaling and didn't really know where to start...should I write physically with pen and paper or should I write in my Google docs like I used to in the past...but finally after a talk with God, here I am. On Tumblr. The OG journal pad I used to used back in the day. (LOL) Anyways, I told God that I wanted to be able to monetize the things I do using this new Mac that I bought so through sitting down and writing on this website, hopefully the thoughts will come and I will be able to build an online community that will appreciate the words I have to share. (Patreon maybe?) Who knows, but I'm just here getting it all out and seeing where it takes me. I hope to make this a daily, if not, an every other day habit so that I can form some sort of discipline in getting out whatever is on my mind. I used to be in therapy and no longer go, but I remember before them telling me the importance of writing and journaling so I'm do it....Here we go!

I watched this video of my younger self today taking about Eating Your Fruit on my YT Channel (TIANALUXTALKS) and it really just inspired me. It's like sometimes you just have to remind yourself who tf you are sometimes and it just made me think about the things I was really into. I used to be so health conscious and into my health (& mental) and I really wanna get back to that. I want to be able to be a reflection of the positive thoughts I have roaming in my head. And I also want to leave behind physical proof, evidence, and trails of the things I said I wanna do so I can go back and see how far I've come. Not only that, but today I had this talk with a friend about how I wanna start a vlog and she thought it was a really good idea but little do she know I already have one...My other friend also reminded me to go check it out because they said they checked my link tree. Mind you, I haven't been on my link tree in I don't know how long! LOL. So It's like wow, I have all these ingredients to make a cake, but I'm being so stubborn and acting lost as if I'm not a professional baker ...if that makes sense. lmao. But anyway, I want to use all these tools I have to manifest something new and creative in my life. I have many different influences and people I can emulate, but really I want whatever I have in my mind, thoughts, and soul to come out to be an original work of art.

I have so many different outlets I wanna do.

Firstly, I wanna go back to making videos on my Youtube. Once I decide my niche for what I'm going to talk about on my channel when I relaunch it, I want to eventually turn those post into a Patreon subscriptions for those who want to pay for deeper content. I already have my IG page set up for the inner BTS content I want to share that correlates with my YT channel. I have notes on my phone about how to market things, creating reels, shorts, going live, etc so once I come up with scripts and ideas of what I wanna talk about, it will all get posted. I'm gonna use Chat GPT and astrology to really figure out what's really going to get things going because I'm that type of girly so yeah.

I already have this brand that I'm sticking to which is TIANALUX, & then everything that comes after that will be the branches under that. So TIANALUXART is one, TIANALUXTALKS is another etc. I'm gonna change the picture of TIANALUXTALKS to that same picture I use on my main IG page. I'm going to create a new introduction with reggae/dancehall mashup song with my picture and my art to be my new intro video for Youtube. (I'll work on that tonight)

(SB: I think I'm gonna take a break from posting on @tianalux OR just post my travels and when it comes to marketing use that page to carry over interested people etc.)

I need to start promoting myself and getting into groups on FB as well to find likeminded individuals to support what I have going on.

What else, what else...

Hmmm, I'm stop here for now & come back!

[vorpalquickblade]

Soooo, I'm really bad about posting updates for MY writing, mostly because long periods between updates are a combination of me not being in a writing mood/not feeling Nephilim Witch (the only fic I'm currently posting) at the moment and then loosing track of how long its been and in those cases there's just... not a whole lot to say? I don't try to make excuses, the long periods between updates are almost always totally on me, and even when its something like me getting busy with IRL stuff it tends not to cross my mind to update here, and I honestly don't know if any of my fanfic readers will see this because of that, but who knows.

Anyway, mostly the long update wait on Nephilim Witch is due to the fact my brain lost interest in SAO completely for a while, so I really wasn't feeling Nephilim Witch or getting any inspiration for it. I'm posting THIS because while I intend to put the above part of this paragraph in my author's notes, when I was thinking about writing and updating recently I realized I was liable to mention that while the rest of it was totally on me, a bit over month of it wasn't, and then I'd want to explain and then I'd end up telling a summary of the story and rambling and end up with a long ass author's note that an unknown percentage of my readers wouldn't care about since it's about personal stuff and would just add a bunch in the author's note and bog it down.

Anyway! For a solid month of the time between the last time I updated and now, I was actually sick as fuck, admitted to the hospital, and then recovering at home. The short version is that I ended up with lesions in my brain, frontal lobe to be exact, and was in the hospital for 2 weeks then recovering at home. Never actually DID find out what was going on exactly since there was some errors and shit about lack of hearing back about test results after I got discharged and sending my reference to the wrong place for follow up appointments which never seemed to get cleared up. Buuut, my discharge papers called me "young woman with abnormal MRI suggesting ADEM" and I looked up ADEM as used in medical terminology and found that from my understanding it's basically when your body gets a viral or bacterial infection (or even rarely occurring when you get vacation shots) and the body flips the fuck out and overreacts like a drama queen, and since other then my recovery period I've been totally fine in the MONTHS since the hospital gave me treatment, while I'll be the first to tell you I'm NOT a doctor in any way shape or form, I'm gonna go out a limb and say they were right.

But MAN, was that a ride and a half in the hospital, of which me telling my dad that I think I needed to go to was a red flag all on its own since there's a long standing joke in my dads side of the family that if a member of his family is going to the hospital of their own volition that you KNOW shits serious. Case in point, no joke, my dad once tried to insist to his girlfriend that he was FINE and get up off the couch to go to work and literally passed out on his feet, and only didn't smash his head on the coffee table because she was strong enough to catch him and managed to get him to fall onto the couch instead of forward. When they got to the hospital, during check in they put one of those sensors on his finger to check oxygen levels, and the lady checking him in glanced over at the results after getting a few pieces of information, frowned and messed with it a moment, went back to getting information, checked again and changed it to another finger and just stared at the readout for a few moments before going "Nope! We can get you checked in later! You're going back NOW!" and unfortunately my family is stubborn enough in the "oh it's FINE its likely nothing serious, I'll get over it soon." way that it wasn't really... out of character for my family.

Anyway, when I went to the hospital, I was so out of it that when my sister visited my parents, who were almost glued to my bedside out of a worry big enough to get my mom to basically drop everything and come down from Washington (the state, not the capital, I live in Oregon, hence coming DOWN) to tell her that, no, the hospital had NOT given me any medication that was making me super loopy and out of it, that was just part of whatever was wrong with me at the time.

Not kidding about it being a RIDE at the hospital. No joke or exaggeration, I had 11 blood tests, a CT scan, 4 MRIs, and a SPINAL TAP, without even taking into account the normal stuff like an EKG or urine test. Hell, at one point they were seriously concerned I might have brain cancer and were telling me that while they were waiting for a few more test results, unless something changed, they were gonna drill into my head the next day so as to get a biopsy sample to see if it WAS cancer. The only reason it ended up NOT happening was because, as my dad put it, the neurologist I had came down the hall damn near skipping, and informed him that the results from my spinal tap had shown a certain kind of cell, that I'm absolutely spacing the name of right now, that's in the brain and spinal fluid and all of the ones in my spinal tap were healthy and doing their job and the chances of them being like that AND me having brain cancer while theoretically possible were astronomical enough that they'd canceled by brain biopsy, which is cool, since they didn't have to drill into my head.

So. Yeah. Anyway! I'm totally fine now, and that DID eat up over a month of my time, and it would be unreasonable as all hell to blame that month at least on me, though again, most of the period between updates is totally on me, either due to just not being in the mood to write, period, or my brain just not having any inspiration for Nephilim Witch in particular. Which is why even though it's the ONLY story I'm posting right now, I technically have 10 planned multi-chapter fics that range from having only part of the first chapter down so I have the premise on hand as well as a starting point if I feel up for that one in particular to.... um.... eight completed chapters and the beginning of the ninth making over 84,500 words in the fic proper... and another 16,000 of later scenes/notes...

But yeah, it took me WAY to long to get the most recent chapter out, I'm well aware of that, and mostly that was on me due to lack of writing inspiration, bring in the mood for it in general, or for Nephilim Witch in particular, but a solid month of that was NOT my fault.

[lost-inthedream]

SF9 Christmas with their own family

requested by @inseongsfoxybae

Characters: Husband! sf9 + female reader (though other than the word mother there is nothing that restricts the gender of the reader) + their children💟

c/n = your child's name

Author's note: Merry early Christmas you all. I wanted to post it before December 24th so it can warm you already.

There is no reference to weather because, you know, different people celebrate Christmas all around the world.

Even though the imagines are short, I wrote them with love.

There is pure fluffy right under the cut

Youngbin:

He starts with his favorite Christmas activities pretty early. Both because he is eager to enjoy such a season with his family as well as because he wants you all to relish it to the fullest together.

Once you and he have some time you go shopping without thinking twice. You do not have a very tight list of items to take home for the decoration. Anyways Binnie has already mentioned Christmas-themed clothes to dress your little sunshine with as you count the days to go until Christmas. You two make sure to show your kid the advent calendar every morning, they are still learning the numbers. "Look, we're almost there!"

Inseong:

You know he is in his Christmas mood when he wakes you up with songs of the season. That together with his bright smile surely means he is possessed by the Christmas spirit.

Your child is still a baby but Seongie can imagine them getting older and looking at the pages of a beautiful family album. Of course, you find an average-sized present under the Christmas tree, wrapped with candy-colored paper and having your child's name written on it. A brand new, special album to fulfill with the current and the numerous Christmas photos you all will celebrate together.

Jaeyoon:

Jae gets all about decoration. Your child's eyes glittering to capture everything is his favorite part. Your husband wants Christmas signs everywhere inside and out of your house. You catch him asking for your baby's opinions so many times. It is really enjoyable to you because sometimes Jaeyoon does change his mind thanks to the way that little being looks at him. "I got it, C/N. I'm gonna place it here instead."

Once you all are done, you sit to admire your nice job and rest. Your child does not take long to drift off on his lap and you jest "look, they're more exhausted than us!" Jaeyoon strokes their round cheek and voices softly "of course they are"

Dawon:

As soon as your child can understand stories and gets fascinated by Santa and Christmas myths, Dawon sits with them to write a proper letter (in his own words). "Don't you think we should say we're sending warm hugs? It's really cold there on the north pole".

Of course, your child is as energetic as your husband, thus your little one makes mistakes numerous times throughout December, such as breaking glasses or kicking a ball at your neighbor's flowers. So they get truly worried that they will be on the list of naughty children. You and Dawon always make sure to reassure them nevertheless "Honey, I know you've got a precious heart"

Zuho:

Ju has just slipped a Santa hat your on your child head, now both you and your husband admire as that smiley little being caresses the white fur around it. You are not only looking actually, your cellphone is in hand to record the happy scene unrolling in front of you.

Your baby cannot walk yet so it was easy to settle them on the couch next to a bunch of Christmas items. You are done filming so Juho gets on his knees to take perfect pictures. Your little girl/boy loses interest in the red hat and directs it to something else, which is the plushie wearing a Santa set that Juho's parents have sent. "Your grandparents will love these pictures!"

Rowoon:

Your husband gets back home and you can see he is in a rush when he quickly lays a peck on your lips. "Hold on Seokwoo. what's happening?" He then holds back and looks into your eyes with kindness. "I'm sorry. I just passed by the park downtown and they already decorated it for Christmas. C/N will love to see it". You immediately forgive him but not without joking. "I see. But what about me?"

In no time you all are inside the car on your way to the park and your child keeps asking his dad to say how big the Christmas tree is. "Don't you wanna see with your own eyes, bunny??"

Yoo Taeyang:

The majority of cookies you prepared together in the morning are shaped like pines and snowflakes. However, your husband made a few hearts while you and your kid worked together. "Why hearts?" your child asks without a clue. "Because I love you and mommy, boo"

When it is time to eat your sweet masterpieces, you all sit together and your little one has fun feeding mommy and daddy. A lovely Christmas animation is playing on TV but sometimes you do not pay much attention because your kid has something important to say. They are precious!!

Hwiyoung:

Youngkyun loves to lie down and cuddle with you and your sunshine child to watch Christmas movies or read stories. The fact that Children believe in magic without any doubt gets him smiling like an idiot. You all have a hard time putting your child to sleep on Christmas Eve "I wanna see Santa's reindeers"

"What about Santa himself?" your husband chuckles rubbing their belly covered by a blanket. After a while, you and Hwiyoung are staring at your asleep child with fond eyes, too amazed to get up and bring the present to under the tree.

Chani:

Waking up on Christmas day gets the love of your life in a lazy yet cheerful mood. Your baby was complaining in their own language inside their crib and Chani rescued them so you can be all together in bed. You smile at the sight of the two most precious people in your life wearing matching Christmas pajamas. Then you remember you are wearing one too.

"I thought they were hungry but I guess they just missed us" Chani deduces almost whispering. His voice is still failing to say anything. He carefully lies the baby between both of you and watches them snuggle onto you.

---

Taglist: @key201303 @petitebakers

[devildomimagines]

Solomon: Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, so I'm borrowing your guys' router for a bit. Hope you don't mind.

How do bros react?

I'm not gonna lie, I laughed when this came in. I took this as Solomon hanging around the HOL but as I was writing I realized you might have meant Solomon taking the router so I put that in Levi’s part.

Belphegor

He probably wouldn’t notice at first.

Rudely awakened, in his opinion, by an explosion below his room in the attic.

He was going to go back to sleep but when he smelled the lingering smoke, he figured he should check it out.

Yawning, he opens the door and finds Solomon fanning a cauldron while reading through his tablet.

“Belphegor! Did I wake you? I’m sorry, there was an unexpected reaction.”

Always one to get right to the point, Belphie asks, “Why are you here?”

“MC said I could come over. Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall’s router, so I’m borrowing your guys’ for a bit. Hope you don’t mind.”

Belphie furrowed his brow and answered, “No, just keep it down or move somewhere else.” Ultimately he didn’t care as long as his naps wouldn’t be interrupted.

Beelzebub

Beel was on the way out of the kitchen and passed Solomon sitting on the couch in the common room.

He was a few steps from passing the room completely when the sight of Solomon finally registered. He took a few steps back.

Solomon giggled as Beel came back into view. “Hello~”

Beel popped a chip in his mouth as he replied, “Hi Solomon, no offense but what are you doing here?”

“No offense taken, Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall’s router, so I’m borrowing your internet for a bit. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Ah. I don’t mind.” Then a thought popped up, “Does Lucifer know you’re here?”

“MC invited me so I assumed they asked permission.”

Beel nodded, “Probably. See you.” He then headed towards his room to get ready for a run. He also doesn’t really care.

Asmodeus

“Solomon!?” Asmo gasps, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming over!?”

Solomon sighed, “If I told you then I wouldn’t get any work done.”

“Work?” Asmo walked over and rubbed Solomon’s shoulders. Asmo scanned the papers spread over the dining room table and the website pulled up on Solomon’s laptop.

“Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, so I'm borrowing your guys' router for a bit. Hope you don't mind.”

“Of course not! You’re always welcome!” Asmo smiled warmly at his pact partner.

Solomon couldn’t help smiling back, “Do you want to join us? MC should be back shortly with some snacks.”

“How can I say no to my two favorite humans?” Asmo giggled, “I’ll go grab my school bag.”

Satan

Irritation flared as he came across someone sitting in his favorite chair in the HOL’s library.

The flash of white hair had him seeing red, he was ready to rip Mammon out of the chair with force if needed.

When he stomped around to be face to face with the wrongdoer, he was taken back, “S-Solomon?”

“Oh hi Satan! Doing some reading?” Solomon gestured to the book in the blond’s hand.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he wrangled in his wrath but he couldn’t stop his next statement’s bite, “What are you doing in our library?”

“Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, so I'm borrowing your guys' router a bit for research on this project. Hope you don't mind.”

Satan nodded, “That’s fine.” He resigned himself to his second favorite chair, “Simeon sure does have a penchant for breaking technology in unexplainable ways.”

“Right?” Solomon laughed and the two settled into an amiable silence.

Leviathan

30 minutes to release, Levi reminded himself. One of his favorite animes was premiering their season and series finale and he was binge watching the show to be ready. He had it timed perfectly, he’d wrap up 5 minutes before, get some water and snacks and settle in.

At 20 minutes, his TV and computer both went black. He freaked out and when they both booted up with an interrupted connection error he stormed from his room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Levi yelled with a pointed finger as he found Solomon packing up the router.

“Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, so I'm borrowing your guys' router for a bit. Hope you don't mind.”

“I absolutely do mind!” Levi ripped the router from the bag and started plugging it back in. As it reestablished the connection, he looked at the time, 10 minutes!

“Well what am I supposed to do, MC said I could use it for a bit?” Solomon looked to Levi for answers.

Hating to cross MC and also running out of time Levi said, “I don’t know, just work on the project here? I need the internet for the release of the season finale that’s dropping…” another glance at the time, “in 5 minutes! Whatever you do, don’t unplug that router or I’ll come hunt you down.” Levi made a gesture that he was watching the sorcerer and then bolted from the room.

Mammon

He wasn’t doing anything important, just scrolling through Devilgram when the video wouldn’t load. Weird, he thought, refreshed and now his whole timeline wouldn’t load. His D.D.D. was still connected to the internet so he figured Levi was playing around with too many devices.

He pushed himself up out of bed to give the third born a piece of his mind.

On his way to Levi’s room, he found Solomon posted up in the common room. He had his laptop and tablet on the table with paperwork scattered around. It looked like he was taking a break by looking at his D.D.D. just as Mammon had been.

“So it was you, sucking up all the internet,” Mammon accosted.

Solomon jumped, he looked embarrassed to have been caught on his phone, “Hello Mammon. Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router, MC said I could borrow your guys' router for a bit. Hope you don't mind.”

Mammon wanted to tell Solomon to get lost but if MC had given the ok... Mammon felt conflicted and when Solomon smiled, he knew he was right where the wizard wanted him.

“Whatever! I’m heading out anyway,” Mammon grumbled and decided to head to a casino, he deserved to blow off some steam.

Lucifer

Lucifer sighed, how did I end up like this? He looked up from his office chair at Solomon typing away on his laptop.

Originally MC asked if Solomon could come over to finish his essay. He hadn’t minded as long as MC was with him, not totally trusting the sorcerer to keep his nose out of the secrets of the House of Lamentation.

Solomon had come over earlier than MC had mentioned, “Simeon broke the Purgatory Hall's router. I hope you don't mind that I’m early but I have other assignments that I need to get done.”

MC wasn’t back yet so Lucifer led him inside and to his office, offering it was a good quiet spot to focus until MC returned. The unsaid added benefit that he could keep Solomon under his watchful eye.

The next time Lucifer looked up, he caught Solomon’s gaze. He narrowed his eyes, “Were you watching me?”

“Maybe,” Solomon shrugged, “Were you watching me?”

Lucifer sighed again as he thought, when was MC going to be back?

[multifandom-girlie]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓

Imagine: “Could I request a Daniel Gillies smut like they are both at the comic con(they are both in the originals) and he is teasing her while he answers a question ? Or makes fun with Joseph and he says some dirty things.” Requested by @elijahspersonalwifeyyy .

Pairing: Daniel Gillies x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words:

Edited: Yes

A/N: I apologise @elijahspersonalwifeyyy for the incredibly long wait. I’ve had this lined up to post but with coursework and writing so much at the same time, it’s made it difficult but I refuse to quit. I’m not a quitter. I’m also not a person to announce a hiatus. Either way, hope you enjoyed ! There is a lot to read I know but we needed a build up and this is one of my favourite comic cons ever, I wanted to do the before hand scenes either way so. Don’t forget to check out my new story “On The Way” !

All of us at the current moment in time were stood backstage waiting to be called on. I couldn't tell you how irritated I was when I went on after Joseph and then Daniel followed. They were both irritating enough to me together anyway but they were in a particularly annoying mood today and I was not prepared for it.

“The man who will break your heart and then rip it out and then probably eat it. Joseph Morgan.”

The whole audience cheered as he walked on and he waved quite casually as he did. 

“The women who brings all men to there knees but still can't find anything better to do than drink wine. Y/N Y/L/N”

I giggled as I walked out and I saw the audience screaming and Joseph giving me a mischievous look.

“The brother with a suit for every occasion. Daniel Gillies as Elijah.”

He walked out, threw me a quick smirk and blew a kiss to the audience as they screamed. He pulled his chair out and smiled at everyone.

“Nice jacket.”

“Yeah. Give it up for this jacket ! Huh ? Out of a suit and into a smoking hot jacket.”

“I know right, the one time he's not wearing a suit.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift from Y/N.”

“Aw that’s super sweet Y/N.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift for our anniversary.”

“Really ? How many years ?”

“Seven.”

“and very sweet.”

He called the rest of our costars out and we continued on with the panel.

After the host had started the panel with a question for Julie and Michael, it was now a group question for me, Joseph and Phoebe.

“Uh now going to the show, we've seen Klaus and Lily and Klaus and Hayley kind of trying the uh co-parenting thing and it did not really go so well as we all saw. How is Klaus going to be as a parent now that Hayley isn't around and Lily and Elijah have reconciled ?”

As soon as the question was asked, we all turned to Joseph.

“Uh you know, before he alienated his whole family by toasting Elijah's girlfriend, sleeping with his wife and and and cursing the women he thought he was in love with um Klaus survived under this sort of umbrella of Elijah's protection and forgiveness I suppose and so Elijah was always a voice of reason and Hayley was always there to battle it out with him. So, I would say badly. He's gonna do badly as a single parent you know and I think he knows he's kinda messing it up but he's trying. At least he's trying. You gotta give him that. Even if he's warping the minds of his two daughters, one before she's even uttered a syllable and the other before she get's old enough to realise that Klaus and Lily aren't actually together you know like she’s thought for years.”

“Geez. So uh how are are Lily, Elijah and Klaus going to tell her ? Who's going to be the one that does it or will they all do it together ?”

I decided to answer this questions, being more involved with the story line of my children.

“I think that Lily will have to be the one to tell her and whilst doing so will definitely have to be quite cautious when telling Sofia, you know not only because she's only 7 years old but also because she’s thought of Elijah as her Uncle her whole life- and although that hasn't changed it's still going to be difficult since this latest revelation is that, her Uncle Elijah that she adores oh so much is now also 'mommy's boyfriend' or in more formal terms her step-dad. So I think she's going to be confused and it might be quite difficult for her at first but I think she’s mature for her age and that she will understand quite quickly that, Mommy and Daddy aren't together and that despite realizing that her mom was married to her uncle I think she will quickly appreciate the fact we told her because of her understanding personality. “

Daniel quickly leaned forward and spoke before the host could ask another question.

“The moral of the story is, don't sleep with your husband's brother. Especially when not using protection and then deciding to get back together with your husband before trying to force him to sign the divorce papers.”

The whole room suddenly echoed with loud laughter and I couldn't stop giggling myself despite being offended for my character. I hit his arm playfully. He grinned at me and rested his hand on my leg as the room calmed down and he slouched back in his chair a little.

“Very true. So, I mean he can always just compel a few dozen nannies but he does have Elijah there to help him co-parent you know not just with Sofia but with Hope. I'm thinking like shared schedules, late night feedings...Whose doing what ?”

“It’s like we both wake up and the baby is crying and it's like, are you going to get her or am I ? Alright, I'll get her.”

“Yeah no it's gonna be me. I'm gonna do the graveyard shift, I know that all to well. But we gotta remember too, Lily and Freya are going to be doing a large share of the work.”

“Oh yeah, they can do it. There you go.”

I giggled and hit Joseph in the shoulder for the comment.

“Sexist.”

“No, come on. Lily's already been through this twice she knows’ what she's doing and Freya's Switzerland at this moment in time, I think for both of us to be in there...I’m gonna stop talking.”

We all chuckled at Daniel's comment.

                                               *

“Now we're going to go to audience questions in just a little bit but first I wanted to do something fun. I know it's not the holiday's and I know we don't have a big ass bonfire in front of us but I thought it would be quite fun if everybody kinda thinks about a wish for their character for the future, just throw it in the imaginary bonfire.”

“Well, I'm a human....so I just want to stay alive.”

“Good answer.”

“Oh I forgot you weren't a character.”

“I have wishes for everybody but I don't have a character.”

“I do wish for Julie that Supernatural Judge Judy becomes her next spin off and Exploding Ovaries is the title of Daniel Gillies' next memoir. 

“A wish for Hayley would be that Hope can live a normal, happy existence. I think would be what she would want the most.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Thank you. That's it, I'm done.”

“Uh, I think for Elijah...I mean other than wishing that his girlfriend's wouldn't be incinerated or his wife doesn't sleep with his brother again...”

I giggled at Daniel's comment, despite his comment towards my character and spoke with Joseph, simultaneously. 

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm not letting that one go easily. So, uh...I would wish for him. Oh man. I wish for him, I’m actually wishing for something dark, like I sort of would wish for...a great division between the brothers before reconciliation.”

“So that's how it's going to be.”

“So, my wish for Lily is um...to finally find that bloody fertility spell that she's been looking for, for centuries. So that her and Elijah can have children of their own which they want more than anything and move somewhere outside of New Orleans in a nice family home, away from the drama.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Uh, I wish everyone would just do what Klaus says because he's always right. He knows what he's doing. It's for the greater good. Come on. Get on board with his plans. Everything will be alright in the end. Not everyone will be alright in the end but everything will be alright in the end. Right ?”

“Um, I wish Marcel would cross over. No.”

“I wish for more of your cleavage.”

I couldn't help but laugh a little when he says comments like that. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I knew the double meaning behind it. Daniel has not taken his eyes away from my chest today. That's what breast feeding does to you, I suppose. When Daniel picked my outfit this morning, I was glad. I was going to wear some leather pants and a red blouse with some heels but he somehow convinced me to wear a dress. God was I glad, I actually listened to him. It was hot in San Diego summer heat and I underestimated a little when I decided on leather pants. 

“Yeah. We gonna get some dollar bills. Let's see some ones. Tryna make some money out here. Somebody, put on some Usher. Slow jam. Uh yeah...”

“I have a twenty. What can we get for a twenty ?”

“Break it up. Break it up.”

“Make it into ones and let's make it rain.”

“If I throw loose change at you, can I make it hail ?”

“Alright, moving on. Next subject.”

“Um, Davina is a witch and I think it would be really cool if she could fly. So, whether it's a broomstick or something else...I still think it would be really cool.”

“That’s a good one. Um, mines pretty selfish. I hate shaving, so I wish we could work something in so Vincent could have like a huge beard.”

“I changed my mind, I want superpowers as well. Three one foot long, retractable adamantine claws from each hand please.”

”Why is the camera on me ? I wanna fly. I wanna see these guys fly. I want them charging up walls and...we don’t have the budget for that. I wanna see more vampirey stuff. Why am I wishing again ? I exhausted my wish.”

“You guys can make as many wishes as you want. This is your made up tradition.”

“It’s raining wishes on you.”

“Raining for your wishes.”

“God this is embarrassing.”

“T it up.”

“T what up ?”

“What do your need for a rain of wishes ?”

“What happens when it rains ?”

“An umbrella.”

“What ?”

“An umbrella, sweetheart.”

He closed his eye in frustration and dropped his upper half into my lap, whilst we all laughed at his slow mind.

“Oh shit. Umbrella. So sorry, so sorry.”

“The rain, the umbrella...”

“Dropping hints. Awesome, alright well let’s turn it over to some audience questions.”

                                               *

“Hi, my name is Julia and first I'd like to say, I love you all. Especially Joseph Morgan and Danielle Campbell.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t worry, I love you Daniel.”

He squeezes my thigh and leans in to kiss my head. Before deciding to move his arm around my shoulders and hugging me into his side. I rested my hand on his thigh as I hugged him back.

“I love you too, beautiful.”

I blushed and smiled, whilst the audience all awed. Which prompted the red in my cheeks to darken. I sat back up straight and he returned his hand back my thigh, yet this time a little higher up and whilst stroking the fabric of my dress up my thigh.

“My question is for the whole cast and it is, if you were able to play another role...who would you wanna play ?”

“On our show ? Or just in general ?”

“Yeah. On The Originals.”

“I..I think I would choose Hayley. The Hyrbid female. She's a pretty cool character. Your welcome.”

“Um, I would play...Klaus. Mind you probably better but...”

“I don't wanna play anybody else, I wanna play Elijah.”

“I would play, Elijah....purely because it would be an absolute blessing to wake up that hot everyday and he's a pretty awesome character.”

He smirked at me and moved his hand further up my leg, his fingers now resting at the hem of my white lace thong. I gulped a little but held my composure. It seemed hat every time I complimented him, he got further up my leg and closer to my core. Like a game...and I was more than happy to play.

“If...If I had to absolutely play someone else uh, I would play Oliver because I just think he needs to be brought back to the show...and uh #saveollie. Bring him back !”

“Uh, I would play Elijah because I think I look damn good in a suit.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Buttoned up to the naval.”

“There we go. I know it's distracting for you, my body.”

“I cannot concentrate. I refuse to continue.”

“Um, I would play Genevieve. I thought she was a really cool character. She was a lot of fun to work with.”

“I see some Genevieve fans in the house, awesome.”

“Um, yeah I think I might choose Elijah too. I think uh, it's a really cool character that Daniel has created.”

“They both quietly believe they can bring more to the role, is what they’re saying. Not quietly, they're saying it to an audience of like three thousand.”

“Only because of what you've done with it Daniel.”

                                            *

“Hi Guys, wow that's loud. I'm so sorry, my name's Marissa. First, I want to say Daniel I watched saving hope and your death killed me. I'm so sorry that you died.”

“Yeah, tell me about it ! I was gutted.”

He squeezed my thigh a little more and started making circles with his finger on the spot closed to my core.

“Oh my goodness.”

Yeah, oh my goodness indeed. He really knew how to make a woman feel good, without hardly doing anything...quite literally.

“Um, so my question is for Julie and Michael. Um, I was wondering...there’s so much violence on the show and so much adult stuff and I was wondering if the network or the studio has ever told you, 'No you can't do that’ ?”

We all started laughing in reply to the questions.

“Oh, we have a story about that don't we...Leah.”

“I don't wanna tell the story again.”

“There's things that we did that couldn't be shown.”

“So here's the thing about broadcast television is that, apparently you can decapitate someone, you can drive a knife into a vampires skull, you can rip out their heart, you can shove a pencil up their nose, you can stab them a million times with glass but when stimulating a sex scene...if there's any movement at all that one would define as thrusting...”

“No thrusting. Pull back on the thrusting.”

“A motion that originates from the hip.”

Charles decided to get up and share a demonstration of thrusting and everyone on stage started laughing and the audience started to scream. Daniel gripped my thigh a little harder, due to jealously. I didn't have to ask him what the reason was, I already knew. At the best of times, he was not a jealous person. He loves and trusts me and Charles a lot and he knows nothing would happen but when he's horny and in need of some attention...he does get jealous. Understandably so, I know because we both do. His pinky finger then started to stroke me, through the lace of my pants.   

“It’s difficult because I don't actually remember thrusting being in the script. That was something the actors chose.”

“It was a creative choice. I mean, look at Charles...you would do the same thing. Also, let's not forget the originators of this little problem.”

The audience stayed silent, indicating that they weren't sure how to react to her last sentence. I leaned into Daniel and rested my forehead against his bicep in retaliation to Leah's comment. I couldn't stop giggling, despite the finger rubbing against my wet thong and the blush rising on my cheeks. Daniel was using his other hand to pinch his forehead, whilst chuckling.

“Come on guys, explain it.”

“So, what happened was we were doing the flashback sex scene of Elijah and Lily's wedding night. Daniel got a bit too excited and started to thrust a little and I tried hiding it by opening my legs a bit more.As I did, my underwear snapped because it wasn't as flexible as I thought. So, I had to pay a fine for showing too much skin because the sheets had come off of me a little and we hadn't realised. Not that it was much it was just a little side boob, still.”

“So, it wasn't the thrusting ?”

“No, ironically it wasn't.”

“Let me tell you. There was some excellent, simulated thrusting in those scenes. That was cut, per broadcast standards. While, I think in the same episode seventeen people got brutally massacred. It is what it is.”

“Some of the best thrusting. I hope it makes the special features.”

“Charles called Leah, for some extra rehearsal before hand.”

                                           *

“Hi I'm uh Skylar. Um, I know that between you there has been a myriad of different supernatural creatures. Uh, Phoebe...I think you've been a werewolf, a witch and a mermaid. Uh, in really life...What would you wanna be ?”

“Well, I would say witches because witches don't have to turn on a full moon and they don't have to be like plagued by vampire...the demon’s of vampires. They can just have all the power and really cute outfits...and if I can look more like Danielle Campbell. I'll take it.”

“H20 rocks!”

“Thank you ! Well actually I-Im gonna say a mermaid then. Like, life is better under the sea and I think I would be a mermaid.”

“I don't know-"

“Merman ?”

“Merman. No, I...um. I'm pretty pervy...so I'd say like invisibility.”

“Um, so I'm not pervy at all unlike Daniel. I do think that Heretics are soooo cool though. Like, they can do magic and they are vampires but still have all those human capabilities...like procreation. So, yeah a heretic.”

His hand stopped stroking me through the lace of my panties suddenly and I instantaneously felt a cold gush of air race up my well-shaved legs and punching me in my core. I felt the frayed edges of my lace tickling my upper thigh, where they shouldn't be. Hinting that my favourite pair of thongs had been snapped. I turned to Daniel and narrowed my eyes at him whilst he just continued the panel, like nothing happened. His hand when back to it’s original position resting on my thigh, clearly in punishment for making a comment about his pervy answer. 

“Nah, I'm happy where I am. You know, Hyrbid. Definitely not, invisibility. When I joined the show, I thought I was only gonna be a vampire so I was thrilled when I was a werewolf-vampire. I'm sticking to my guns.”

“I like being the token human. I'm just gonna like stay there. Create more mermen.”

“Season three, season of the mermen.”

“The next spin-off.”

“That would be so cool, let me be a mermaid. I would kill it .”

Joseph put his arm on the back of my chair, looking at me after I made my wish known to be a mermaid.

“You better not cum in the water.”

The entirety of the room ruptured into fits of laughter. Even Daniel, who had now moved his hand closer to my core again. Letting his fingers stroke my entrance. Meanwhile, I continued laughing...ignoring the feeling of my husband’s gentle and sensual touch. 

“I’m blushing.”

                                            *

“Hi, I'm Katie. If you were to go to Comic Con, on the floor. Is there anyone you would dress up as ?”

The first thought that came to mind was pleasing Daniel. If I said him there was no doubt he'd give in. The problem was, was it a risk I was willing to take...at a comic Con in front of three thousand fans and some of my closest friends.

“Daniel Gillies.”

Every one repeated my answer and whilst doing so I was discovering that I was unequivocally correct with my thought process. Sure enough, Daniel plunged his fingers straight into my entrance leaving me to deal with the resounding squeal that ripped from my throat. Causing Daniel to laugh at me, influencing Joseph to join in.

                                            *

The final question had just been answered by Daniel and I was leaning my head into Daniel's shoulder to help with controlling the moans erupting inside me. The warmth in my stomach has just appeared as quickly as it vanished again, Daniel had stopped and chuckled at my irritated expression. Nevertheless, I got up and shoved my now broken thongs in Daniel's jacket pocket and waved at the fans with a bright smile on my face as we all walked off. We had just got out of the fan's eyesight when a hand delivered a hard slap to my barely covered assume cheek as this dress was so short. I span around and grabbed his wrist before dragging him further backstage, behind a screen next to the dressing rooms.

“What do you think your doing ? Playing around like that during a panel and then not even letting me finish ?!”

I didn't even let him reply as I dragged his face down towards mine and kissed him lustfully. His hands wandered down to my waist and clutched the already tight fabric tighter around me. The other unoccupied hand drove down to my ass and clutched it, allowing the skirt to rise up. Exposing the bare skin of my cheek. I used one of my hands to undo his zipper before pulling his dick out and stroking it. Clearly, he was eager because before I knew it. I was pressed up against the wall, sticking my tongue down his throat and moving myself up and down on his already hard cock. What we hadn't realised that the screen had moved, as Daniel had knocked it with his foot when walking to the wall. He pulled away and smirked at me.

“You told me we wouldn't have public sex after last time.”

“This is the last time Mr Gillies, I'm promising you.”

We smiled at eachother and kept going against the wall. His tip caused some tension when arriving to a depth he hadn’t before but it was a pleasurable one most definitely. The lips of my pussy enveloped his tip and he ran it through my drenched folds before deciding to plunge into me once again. I was about to scream and he knew I wasn’t good at being quiet when he fucks me so good. I clung onto him hoping it would relieve tha ache he’d created by filling me so good. He sat down on a chair that was sat in a chair of the little area backstage. Sitting down, allowed his thrusts to speed up rapidly and his face to rest in between my smooth and nearly covered beasts. He bit my hardened buds through my dress and caused a shive of please to shoot down to my core and promoting me to burst.

I then decided to let go and couldn’t help but let out a gratifying scream for him. I was coming down from my high and the screen pulled back. A man that looked about 40, eyed us disgusted and told us to move it.

“Well atleast I won the deal ?”

“Remember the deal we had ? If I was right about is having sex in public again no matter how much you denied that we wouldn’t. Your were very adamant.#

*

MASTERLIST

[kerie-prince]

the memory of you pt. 1

Gilderoy Lockhart x Healer!reader

requested: (anon) Omg thank you! If you want to write any kind of Lockhart scenario that suggests NSFW stuff then I'd totally be cool with whatever you come up with 😊 thanks again so much! ❤️

warnings: none

summary: After helping Gilderoy deal with his memory loss and get him out of St. Mungo's, you couldn't help but fall for his charm once more when he finds you on the streets of London.

a/n: I THOUGHT I QUEUED THIS 💀 i sat here at work thinking 'damn, no one liked my post? k 😭' anyways, i'm gonna break this into two parts before it gets too long lmao. bold italics are flashbacks

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

You worked with a certain celebrity for quite a while now. He was brought in one day without knowing who he was, where he came from, and how he ended up in a weird cave. His residence at St. Mungo’s where you worked lasted for a while. Other Healers declared that there was no way to recover his memory, but he didn’t seem to mind. Gilderoy was perfectly content with being happy and healthy even if he didn't know what was going on.

He was so sweet. Never gave you or any of your colleagues any trouble. He took his potions with ease, didn't make a fuss when bringing him from one room to another, and held conversations as normal. His family would visit him on occasion and it pained you to watch him not know them. But overall, he was happy.

After two years at St. Mungos, Gilderoy was let go considering that even though his memories were gone, he had enough mental stability to be out in public. Gilderoy had to go to a private academy to re-learn magic basics in adult classes. You remember the night before he left.

“So nice to start my life tomorrow,” Gilderoy had his signature smile on. He ate his dinner on his own without the help of Healers.

“Your life has already started, you just don't remember is all,” you corrected. You were preparing his bed for the last time. Since it's his last night, you were able to grab an extra pillow for him to be comfortable.

“Yes, but tomorrow I'll start a life I can remember. I'll make new memories.” Gilderoy stood up from his small table and walk to his hospital bed. He always loved the way you prepared his bed. How you fluffed the pillow, folded the blankets back neatly, and made sure the bed was warm. It wasn't special treatment as you did it for all patients, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Good night, Miss Y/L/N,” he said.

“Good night, Mr. Lockhart,” you replied.

Two years later, you're still working at St. Mungos. You've seen patients come and go since then. None quite as cooperative as Gilderoy, but they weren't all bad either.

The London streets were busy as usual today. It was slightly cloudy, but luckily it wasn't raining. And thank Merlin because you didn't have an umbrella with you. Cabs were driving right past you as you stood by the sidewalk trying to catch one. Once one stopped in front of you and you were about to climb in, another hand also grabbed for the handle. “Miss Y/L/N?”

Gilderoy stood next to you, eyes gleaming and wore his charming smile. He looked as happy as he always did. “Mr. Lockhart, hello.” It was a pleasant run in, and you'd love to chat but you had to be at work soon. It seemed that he noticed your uniform as well. “Oh, go ahead. I'll call for another one.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lockhart.” You opened the door but before you could close it, Gilderoy said one last thing. “I hope to see you again!” He waved at you as you left and kept at it until you were out of sight.

His wish was granted three months later; he was walking around the same street for probably the 4th time that week. He wasn't ashamed to admit that after that day he ran into you, he wanted to see you again. You were with a couple of friends at a pub one night celebrating a proper weekend off. Gilderoy followed you in, a bit of people that recognized him stopped him to say ‘hi’ but of course, he doesn't know them. They were fans of his before the memory loss. They took a few pictures and he went walking after you. You were seen sitting at a bar table by yourself waiting for your friends to come back from the restroom.

Gilderoy walked up to you slowly, “Hello, Miss Y/L/N.” You recognized him and by pure habit, you gave him your work smile and voice, “Good evening, Mr. Lockhart.”

“Please, call me Gilderoy,” he requested.

“Gilderoy,” you reached your hand out to shake his, “you can call me Y/N.” His smile changed, not one that you've seen in magazines and papers, but a more humble one. His cheeks became a bit rosy and he looked like he was flustered. “So, how have you been?” he asked. You took a quick sip of the water that was on the table before continuing the conversation, “I’ve been good! Just been working all the time. How about you? I bet so many great things have been going with you?”

“Not really. Since I didn't know much about my life before I was admitted in, I didn't know where to start. So I lived with my mother for a while, but now I’m on my own.” Seeing Gilderoy be so humble was a sight to see. A once self-centered, proud man has turned into a sweet, kind one. You almost wanted to thank whoever did this to him, not knowing it was actually Gilderoy who had accidentally done this to myself. “Well, are you working right now?” you asked him.

“No, I don’t really have anything to offer,” he looked down.

“That’s not true, you…” you stopped to think about what it was that Gilderoy could do. And unfortunately, it wasn't much. When word had gone out that he had actually stolen credit for all the things he had claimed to have done, people wondered if he was good at anything.

Gilderoy laughed at your blank expression. You felt bad. “Well, I’m sure you’re good at something.” You patted his shoulder gently across the table. Your friends came back from the restroom after what felt like twenty minutes. “Oh! It’s Gilderoy Lockhart, so nice to meet you,” each of them shook his hand. “What brings you here?”

Suddenly, he was embarrassed to say that he was spending weeks trying to find you. “Oh, I was just around. I walked inside and recognized Y/N. Thought I’d say hello,” he felt a bit nervous at that moment. “Well I best be going. I don't want to intrude. Have a good evening.” Gilderoy was about to leave until one of your friends called out for him, “No, stay! I’m sure Y/N would love to catch up with you, isn't that right?” You weren't sure if it would be appropriate to hang out with a former patient. Sure, it’s been a couple years since then, but you've never had any patients become even acquaintances, let alone friends. But the look in Gilderoy’s eyes that were basically begging you to say ‘yes’ hit something in you. “If you’re not doing anything else tonight, I'm sure we would like your company tonight.”

Gilderoy was funnier than he seemed to be. Being one of the Healers that worked with him for nearly four years, you never knew about this. He was telling the story of the first time he had used the levitation spell during his adult classes and he accidentally made his professor levitate and not the inanimate object on the table. Slightly tipsy, you and your friends laughed so hard trying to picture the situation. Gilderoy said he panicked and when he tried to let him down, the professor fell from ten feet in the air on his head and passed out. Luckily, he wasn't kicked out to the class but it was certainly something the professor never let him live down.

By the end of the night, your friends had gotten plastered and left for home. You were fine; your tipsy state was gone. You made sure your friends were set in the cab and told the cabbie their addresses. Gilderoy stood behind you and watched as you took care of your friends. It was different than when you worked, but it brought back memories when you took care of him.

When the cab drove off, you turned to look at the blond man. “Well, it was great seeing you, Mr. Lock– Gilderoy,” you quickly corrected yourself. You nodded and started walking down the street before he called for you again. “W-would you like to take a walk?” You thought about it, the same thought from earlier. But you've already shared a few drinks with him, so a walk wouldn't hurt. The sky was clear and although the stars were faint, there were a couple large ones that you could point out. You walked in silence for a couple minutes until you spoke up, “The weather’s nice.” He nodded quietly. It wasn't odd for him, but it was for you. It was odd to see him not as talkative as he used to be. You supposed that when you have your memories wiped, your personality could be affected as well. But he was still somewhat himself when he was a patient, so this change must have happened in the past two years. You hoped that nothing bad happened in that time.

It was getting later and later, but something about Gilderoy was different and you liked being around this sort of new him. He’s more inviting compared to how he was when he was a celebrity. The feeling of it being weird with him outside of work was gone, and something else started. You wanted to get to know him as a person again.

You checked the time on your wristwatch and decided that you should head home eventually. “It was nice seeing you tonight. I hope to see you again,” you grinned. His eyes lit up as he looked at you, “I would love that. Maybe we can have tea sometime?”

“I’d like that. Goodnight, Gilderoy.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He signaled a cab for you and like he did the last time, he waved until he couldn't see you anymore.

—

requests open!

[ye4gerismarchives]

the bachelorette chp 5, part 2: connie’s proposal

an: hey yall 😛 i'll be posting another q&a before the final elimination chapter comes out. the day after that, i will close the poll, so make good choices! if you wanna change your mind, do it NOW! if you haven't voted, NOW is your chance😁 also, once again, i had to add an extended part to the connie family chapter because the full thing did not upload :( if the extended part helps you change your mind on connie, let me know! also, i really like this chapter because i could properly write a beach story! i went to a beach last week for the very first time and now i won't sound stupid when writing (and i'll never beat around the bush again!) link at the bottom!

tags: fem, black reader

tag list: @taybird

Unlike Jean, Connie did give you an idea of where you were going. He told you to bring some sandals and a light outfit and "not to worry about swimming because I know you don't want to mess up your hair- or makeup". There was a high chance you would be going to the beach where you had your first solo date. It was also the first time you talked about Connie being your husband. He said something about being "wise" about your decision. Now that you think about it, there was a pattern of Connie trying to avoid the fact that you two would have to be in love. You wondered if he'd bring that up again while proposing to you. You wouldn't want to say no to Connie if he did that but the whole friend zone thing is a BIG turnoff (y'all's words, not mine 😉)

But there was a positive side to this maybe? You already knew Connie and he had a higher advantage than Jean. You wouldn't even have to think about building a connection with him because you already had one. But the problem was love. You knew would enter a relationship with Jean, y'all would be lovey-dovey BUT you would need to build a friendship too.

Damn, this was hard. But this would all be over soon. You'd get a big wedding and if you didn't like Connie or Jean, you could move on. It's not like you're signing papers at the televised ceremony.

But anyways 😭 let's starts Connie's date. No time for analysis!

Connie had texted you that he was outside. You grabbed your purse and left the mansion. When you got outside, Connie was leaning on his car, being handsome and all.

"Hey," you greet him. You hold your arms out, hoping for a hug or even a kiss. Connie steps forward leans towards you but his head goes to the side and he's hugging you. Would this guy wait till the possible engagement before getting romantic with you or would the rest of your marriage be like this?

Connie pulls away. "I'm really excited," he says. You want to yell at him right now but the day just started. Maybe he was doing all this to lead you on and make sure you want to fight for him. To be real, this was getting tiring. Connie better be doing something big!

"I'm really excited to see what you have in store for me as well," you reply. Other than seeing Connie's next moves or his proposal, you were excited about the food. You knew Connie could cook, it was in his genes and he did cook for you multiple times throughout the show. As Connie opens the passenger seat for you, you begin to ask him what was on the menu today.

"Well, I've noticed how nauseous you get when under the pressure, so I made egg sandwiches and I packed juices and water. I hope that's alright. When we get engaged, I'll make you a big meal. I promise," Connie says before closing your door.

You thought it was sweet that Connie took note of that. When he got into the driver's seat, you gave him a small smile before opening your mouth. "Thank you, Connie. I really appreciate the fact that you thought about that."

Connie starts the car and begins the drive to the venue. There wasn't much talking done, probably because you would bring up the whole friendship thing. You wanted to get that settled but you also wanted to see what Connie has planned. These two dates weren't just about you saying yes or no but it was a way to see how much Jean and Connie wanted you. If there were problems in the past, they would try and fix them now.

Minutes later you were at the beach (you were right😁). Connie found parking and got out of the car to get the food. You got out on your own. It was weird not having someone rush to your side to open your door. Connie met you on your side of the car and offered you his hand. You can't remember him doing that before (if he has, forgive me yall🧍🏾‍♀️). But his hands felt nice, so you couldn't complain.

The same table from your solo date remained there. "Hey, Connie, just for you, I'll get in the water," you suddenly say. "Huh?! Really?!" he explains. 'Gosh, what a kid,' you think. "You just made this better, y/n! Thank you!" Connie continues. "Just my feet though. I didn't come here to get baptized or anything."

Connie places the picnic basket with all the little things he packed for you. He then proceeds to pull a chair out for you. When you sit, he pulls out one egg sandwich for you. "Juice or water?" Connie asks. "Um, (juice/water)," you reply. He places the drink of your choice in front of you and finally sits down. Connie sets up his food and is ready to dig in until he notices that you haven't touched any of your food.

"Hey...is everything alright? You feel sick?"

You shake your head. "Connie, we need to talk."

Connie sits up slowly. "What's up?"

You liked that Connie was able to see that something was up. This would be useful if you got married.

"How long are you going to friendzone me?"

Connie chokes in his spit. "What?"

"I mean sure we've been lovey-dovey but I still don't feel that romantic connection. If I do say yes to you, I expect us to start acting like a couple. I want you to be my husband, not my friend."

Connie is silent for a minute and then he opens his mouth. "But people who are friends-"

"Oh, shut up. You can be my friend but I want a husband! Please, stop bringing up those statistics and love me!"

You never thought you would be throwing a mini tantrum over a man. Is this who we are? Is this what we represent?

"Come with me," Connie says. You're hesitant to get up until he offers his hand to you. You take it and he pulls you up from the chair.

Connie slowly leads you down the water and you start to freak out mentally. Was he going to drown for telling him off? Connie wasn't that crazy right?

As you walked, you felt yourself slipping out of your shoes. The sand didn't hesitate to fill in the gaps of your toes and tickle your feet. The further you went, the deeper you were. Connie was just walking like it was nothing. You reached the water and Connie came to a stop. For a moment, he stared out into the ocean. You just stared at your feet. The waves pushed the water on your feet causing you to sink more into the sand. This was the world. You were on the edge. You weren't going to live for long, so you had to make the best of it.

"y/n, I hear your cries for love and I'm willing to give it to you. Marry me. I'll work on myself and you'll work on yourself. I promise you, I'll do anything to grow old with you."

Connie’s ring didn’t come in a box. He just pulled it out from his pocket. It was a diamond covered band with a halo shaped sapphire right in the middle.

damn, wonder who y’all gonna choose🤒 LINK

if you’re curious about how these rings look like, here:

connie (left) jean (right , however, his doesn’t match the description i wrote😒)

also, sorry for the white hand. i took a buzzfeed quiz