#sorry for the giant gif it was necessary

[peyton-harrow]

@mobscene-starters​ 

Location: Awards Afterparty

Peyton knew that she had drank entirely too much tequila to still be wearing heels when dancing on a table. But common sense had fled and she was having fun. Too much fun. Enough that she definitely did not realize someone had left their purse on the table and she stepped on it and fell.........into someone’s arms. “Wow, I guess you can say that I fell for you,” Peyton said, before dissolving into a fit of giggles at how horrible her joke was. 

[wyattjohnston]

turbulent - nico hischier

summary: a bumpy flight forces two people closer together.

word count: 2,790

note: this is for @dunnerlars as part of the summer fic exchange 2k24. i really hope you like it ash <3 thanks to @offside-the-lines for putting up with me going through the five stages of grief whilst trying to pull this together!

There was an element of strangeness to working on an NHL charter flight; most perplexing, even still, to Bonnie was the sudden way they all stripped out of their suits the second the seatbelt sign was turned off. She understood that sitting in a suit for six hours wasn’t comfortable, and also understood that the toilets were not big enough for giant men to reasonably change—she chose to spend time in the galley while they were doing it, because it was impossible not to stare inappropriately if she was walking the aisles.

“I thought you were joking,” Alice said, returning to the galley wide eyed and keeping the curtain closed with a hard fist against the cabin wall.

Bonnie hummed without turning around. “Everyone does.”

Short of holding her coworkers hostage in the galley, there wasn’t much Bonnie could do beyond warning them about what they’d see if they wandered the plane before she told them to. So, without fail, they all got caught in the aisles as some twenty odd men stood in unison and started to remove their pants.

“I know athletes have no shame in locker rooms,” Alice whispered aggressively, still with a firm grip on the curtain, “but this is a plane. There are people out there! Journalists!”

“This happens every flight,” Bonnie stressed. “Everyone is used to it. Some of the journalists might even be changing, too.”

Alice’s eyes widened, so big that Bonnie had a mild concern that they would come out of her head, and they only returned to normal when the captain’s voice came over the speaker.

“Hello everyone, sorry to interrupt your flight so early on, we have just been made aware of some unexpected weather on route to Los Angeles. We’ll do our best to make any necessary deviations to avoid patches of turbulence without adding too much extra time to the flight. For your own safety, please keep your seatbelts fastened and only move around the cabin if necessary. Thank you.”

Bonnie sighed, her chin dropping to her chest, at the thought of yet another turbulent flight. Alice groaned. It had been an uncommonly turbulent couple of weeks across both of their flights, even in completely different areas and directions—it was the first thing they’d spoken about when they met before getting on the plane.

“I can’t unsee any of that,” Alice said, finally letting go of the curtain.

“I mean, yeah, but there are worse things to have burnt into your brain.”

Alice readily agreed, even took a moment to subtly peak back into the cabin.

Bonnie still vividly remembered the first time she’d witnessed it. She would never forget the eye contact she’d made with the team’s captain before her eyes were drawn to his bare chest, the tattoo on the inside of his bicep—

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m just here to see Bonnie.”

Said chest and said tattoo blazed in Bonnie’s mind, and then she made eye contact with the team’s captain and sighed softly.

“Hi, Nico,” she greeted. “My captain said you were meant to remain seated with your seatbelt on.”

He smiled knowingly, “Good luck with that.”

Alice disappeared back into the cabin when someone pressed the call button and Nico moved out of her way with a practiced ease, even as Bonnie began to organise the food trolley for the first pass through.

“I just wanted to come check on you; you weren’t on the last few flights.”

“Just a sinus infection,” she said, as if it hadn’t written her off for a week and a half. “Didn’t want my eardrums to explode, you know?”

“You’re okay?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on her forearm. Concern radiated off him.

Bonnie covered his hand with her own, smiling softly and saying reassuringly, “I’m all better.”

Nico stayed while Bonnie finished filling the trolley. The flights were the three after the All-Star Break, so he had plenty of stories to tell to keep her occupied. The Swiss boys had headed to Mexico, of which she was jealous. It hadn’t been too cold in Jersey, but the need for sun had been growing and growing since Christmas, and the longing had only gotten more intense after being cooped up in her own apartment.

“Have you been?” Nico asked.

“No,” Bonnie said with a shake of her head. “One of my college friends had a vacation home in Fort Lauderdale so we did Spring Br—shit.”

The trolley rattled, a few trays coming half out of their places, and Bonnie watched helplessly as the last knife and fork fell off the counter.

“What the fuck is going on today?” Nico asked, causing Bonnie's eyes to snap up. He had a hand on each of the high cabinets either side of the galley.

“You should go back to your seat,” Bonnie said, picking up the lost cutlery and dropping into what would become the dirty dishes container. “I’ll be out in a second. Put your seatbelt on.”

Nico nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

Bonnie was friendly with all the players, staff and media on the flight. Most of them were familiar faces, especially halfway through the season, but anybody she didn’t know was introduced to her with a startling amount of enthusiasm from whichever player had taken it upon themselves to do so—normally it was Luke, being egged on by Nate. She always made sure they had the same energy for whoever had been assigned to work with her, whether or not they had ever met before. Alice looked delighted by the attention; Bonnie hoped it was just the energy being contagious.

If they lingered a little longer next to Nico, who politely ignored Alice’s doe eyes, and Jesper, so that they could get his round up of the All-Star Game, that was purely coincidental.

Back in the galley, Alice was poised to ask many questions. Bonnie could feel the curiosity bursting from her, it only becoming more obvious with every passing minute of silence. Every now and then Bonnie was assigned to work with someone who couldn’t quite handle it. Bonnie would never put in any complaints herself for some lowkey fangirling, but she had had a few coworkers who had been asked to never work a team’s charter flight again.

“Say whatever it is you want to say,” Bonnie said after Alice’s eagerness became too much to bear.

“Did they ask for you to be on all their flights?”

“Uh…” Bonnie hesitated, rolling the question around in her mind. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t that “I don’t think so? I think it’s just easier to have someone who knows all the ins and outs. I didn’t think they could request people.”

“The Rangers do it,” Alice said casually, as she pulled out a new tray of water bottles from the fridge, “but I think that’s because she’s sleeping with one of the players.”

Bonnie was nodding, distracted by someone pressing the call button, and responded mindlessly, “Yeah, that’s pretty norm—Wait, what? I didn’t know anything about that!”

“That’s what I heard,” Alice said, looking and sounding suspiciously like Alexis Rose. “Super juicy. They wouldn’t tell me which player which was upsetting.”

“I wouldn’t want to know anyway,” Bonnie said, largely trying to convince herself because, though she would never admit aloud, she was not immune to gossip. “I couldn’t look them in the face again.”

The plane rumbled.

“Fine, I won’t tell you when I find out, but I also won’t tell anybody you’re sleeping with Nico. Promise.”

Bonnie’s neck snapped as she turned to glare at Alice. “Yeah, you better not because I’m not sleeping with Nico.”

“Oh, really? Damn.” Alice pouted. “You so could be, though. Should be.”

The thing about that was that Bonnie knew she could be. Nico had never made it explicitly clear, but nobody else on the team spent any time in the galley with her during flights. Nobody else ever got up and sought her out when they needed something.

Nobody else touched her so effortlessly, so naturally, when in her space without at all being in the way or a burden.

Nobody else ever looked at her like she was the best thing to happen in their day.

Bonnie tried her hardest to hide the small sigh that escaped her lips. She made direct eye contact with Alice as she moved the conversation along.

“How did you even find out about the Rangers thing? This is your first flight.”

Alice, either oblivious to the redirect or just so interested in the gossip that she didn’t mind, rattled on, “They brought me in for orientation and the woman they left me with is chatty.”

Bonnie knew the exact woman being referred to—in fact, she’d been subtly blacklisted from the Devils’ flights at the beginning of that season for some very inappropriate and entirely unsubtle flirting.

Alice was still talking, even as she left the galley with her tray of water bottles and crossed through the curtain, stopping mid-word to change topics and start a conversation with the person sitting directly on the other side.

A brief jolt came over the plane and Bonnie groaned. It was followed by a considerable rattle.

She was second guessing her career choice as her stomach lurched with the plane when Nico, once again, appeared in the galley. His closed-mouth smile was genuine if not a little cautious and it set Bonnie at ease.

Until she felt more turbulence and was met with Nico’s uncertain head tilt.

“You can stay, but you have to sit there,” Bonnie told him, putting a hand on his shoulder to forcibly turn him around to look at the jump seat she was pointing at. “And put your seatbelt on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. When he sat down, he only broke eye contact to find the seatbelt. “What did you do while we were on break?”

The shelves were rattling around her.

“Worked other flights like I normally do when you guys are at home for a while,” Bonnie answered. “I don’t just sit at home and wait for the team to go on a road trip, you know.”

“That… that makes a lot of sense,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the slightest bit red. “I don’t know why I thought you only flew with us.”

“Sometimes I fly with the Knicks, sometimes there’s some commercial flights. You boys are my favourites, though.”

Nico’s sweet smile turned just ever so slightly into a smirk. “I knew we would be.”

“You didn’t even know there were others,” Bonnie said, laughing.

“Yeah, but obviously.”

Bonnie’s eye roll was good natured, her laughter continuing as Nico’s smirk morphed back into its purest, most genuine form.

She kept looking back at him as she continued to work, sometimes to show she was listening and other times just to look. He was often looking back.

Their peacefulness was interrupted by the ding of the seatbelt sign being switched on and the plane’s captain making an announcement.

“Everybody, including cabin crew, the seatbelt sign has been turned on. Please make your way back to your seats immediately and put on your seatbelt; we don’t expect that to be the last patch and we apologise for our lack of notice on that one. If you need emergency assistance, please press the call button and someone will be with you as soon as it is safe.”

The inclusion of the cabin crew set Bonnie on edge, and she was halfway to demanding Nico return to his seat and hunting Alice down to drag her back when the plane shook even more violently than it had the entire life.

Bonnie’s feet momentarily left the floor. She could hear some shouting from the cabin. She could hear luggage bouncing in the nearest overhead lockers. She made eye contact with Nico—all colour was drained from his face.

“Where’s Alice?” Bonnie asked, holding desperately onto the galley counter behind her back. “She needs to be sitting down.”

Nico leant as far as he could, peeking down the aisle, before saying firmly, “She’s in my seat. Come here.”

Bonnie didn’t let go of the counter as she walked, her eyes never leaving the seat opposite Nico, and she was confident she was going to make it before the next bump. She looked back into the aisle when she could, instantly looking to Nico’s normal seat to see Alice expertly calming down some very nervous men, and relaxed knowing that she was safe.

Naturally, the plane started to tremble just a bit harder the very second she was feeling comfortable, and the oh shit had barely left her mouth before the plane dropped again. Her mind filled with all the things that could happen, where her head and the plane would meet, all the things that would inevitably fall on her if she was unable to get off the floor. And then—

“Gopf.”

She was hauled by the arm with an abrupt and unexpected force, all momentum she’d gained coming to a crashing halt when she collided with Nico’s chest and was held firmly in place by his arms wrapped around her.

“This is the worst flight I’ve ever been on.”

“Go on a date with me.”

Bonnie froze in Nico’s arms; no thoughts being given to the next bumpy patch and all thoughts being focused on his words and the way his arms squeezed just a little bit together.

“What?” she asked, breathless. “Nico.”

“I kind of feel like we might be about to die,” he said—it wasn’t totally clear if he was being serious or not, but he was sincere in his tone. “I don’t want that to happen without at least asking.”

She sighed wistfully, swooning closer to him in their already intimate position. Nico’s eyes dropped to Bonnie’s mouth, causing her to bite her lip and turn her head.

“I shouldn’t have asked?” Nico asked cautiously, his arms loosening around her waist. “I’m sorry.”

Bonnie shook her head, and said in a whisper, “You should have. I’m just—I’m working. I wish I wasn’t working.”

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Nico’s small, pleased expression, and revelled in the delight in his voice when he said, mostly to himself, “I’ll ask again when we’re off the plane.”

For her own sanity, and to remain professional whilst working, Bonnie took the slight break in turbulence as an opportunity to move to the empty jump seat on the other side of the galley. Nico’s hands lingered on her waist as she left, and his eyes burnt holes in the side of her head. She was determinedly looking down the aisle, carefully not looking at anybody sitting down.

The turbulence continued, the seatbelt sign remained on, but Bonnie and Alice were free to move around the cabin. Nico went back to his seat when Alice returned, the smile he sent Bonnie had Alice turning to her deviously.

“Are you sure you aren’t fucking him?”

“I would remember.”

Alice prattled on about maybe the sex being so good that it was affecting Bonnie’s memory, not letting up even as they prepared the cabin for landing—both of them steering clear of the cabin as the players stripped down to change back into their suits. It was amazing how much work she could get done whilst her mouth was moving a million miles a minute, seemingly every thought coming out in a stream of consciousness. It may have been about Bonnie, but it was still enough for Bonnie to tune out the exact words and just let it become background noise that distracted her from thinking about whether or not Nico was in fact going to find her once the plane had landed.

As always, the players were the first off of the plane, most of them thanking Bonnie and Alice, whilst others looked a bit too green to speak. Nico was the last of the players to disembark, slightly uncommon but not unheard of. Bonnie had to keep her eyes trained on his face because she knew if she even looked at Alice for a moment the endless talking would restart.

“I, uh, don’t actually know if I can miss the team bus from the airport,” he said, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his voice solemn. “But if I could get your number, we could meet up later? For dinner?”

“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded, blushing. “I’d like that a lot.”

Nico pulled out his phone for Bonnie to enter her number, and, when she was finished, she made accidental eye contact with Alice who had, to Bonnie’s dismay, started to dance in the galley.

[writeroutoftime]

omg HEYY congrats on 3k!! i just followed but i am so excited to be here :) i am currently sick so when i saw the sickfic recs (specifically the "no, you're not fine. you're burning up”) i was like i need this right now actually so if you have time i would love jamie tartt saying that to a sick reader (it would heal me i think) congrats again!!!

a/n: oh my goodness, thank you, lovely! you are so sweet, and I'm glad you're around!! sorry to hear you aren't feeling well, but I hope this fic can offer a small bit of comfort and that you feel better soon!

oOoOo

"Uh, where do you think you're going, love?" Jamie's voice rang out from the kitchen, cup of coffee in his hand and an incredulous look etched on his face.

Shakily, you turned from the door and offered a weary smile. "Morning, Jamie. I'm off to work, where else?" you tried to joke before you descended into a fit of coughs.

Jamie mumbled your name, placed his mug on the counter, and crossed down the entryway until he stood inches away from you. The back of his palm reached out to feel your forehead. "You really think you're fit enough to go to work?"

"Yeah, 'course. I'm fine." you said, leaning into the warmth of his palm to fight off the shivers that had wracked your body all morning.

"No, you're not fine. You're burning up." Jamie countered, his hands on your shoulder, steading your figure.

With a newfound sense of determination, you pushed your boyfriend's hands off and attempted to stand up straight. "It's just a little cold. Now, seriously, I have to get to work."

It took you a moment to gather your work bag and open the door. Before you could, however, Jamie gently gripped your arms and pulled you back into the comfort of your flat. He wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you back to the bedroom.

"Jamie." you tried to protest.

His head titled, puppy dog eyes wider than you'd seen them. "Love, please, give yourself at least a day to rest. Let me take care of you, okay?"

Finally, you conceded and sat down on the bed. Jamie smiled softly and knelt beside the bed. As gently as possible, he pried the shoes from your feet and pressed a gentle kiss to both your knees. Pushing off the ground, he grabbed your comfiest pjs and peeled off your work clothes, guiding your arms and legs into your new outfit.

"Alright, let's get you into bed. How does that sound?" he whispered.

A soft hum came from your lips, and you melted into your sheets the moment you hit the mattress. Jamie made sure the blankets were tucked up around you. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead and whispered promises of returning as soon as he could as your eyes fluttered shut despite any protests.

It could have been minutes or hours later, but when Jamie crept back into your room you shifted awake and moved to sit against the headboard. "Hi, babe." you greeted, voice scratchy from sleep.

"Didn't mean to wake you, but why don't you have some of this tea?" he offered, producing a steamy mug of tea that felt delicious against your palms.

Your heart melted at the way Jamie fussed around the room, and by extension, fussed over you. He fluffed your pillows, brought a book to your bedside table, and made sure you had a small snack to go with your tea for when your appetite return. Never had you felt so cared for - it was a feeling you never wanted to let go."

"Hey, thank you, Jamie." you told him, hoping he knew just how much he meant to you.

At first, Jamie simply shook his head. "No thanks necessary, love. I'll let you rest. Just yell if you need anything, 'kay?"

"Wait, Jamie?" you called out, more like a question. His eyes met yours and you suddenly felt very sheepish. "Would you, uh, stay here and just cuddle with me?"

His lips split to reveal a giant grin as he bounded to lay in the spot next to you. "Anything for you." he said and wrapped his arms around you. Sleep found you both very easily afterwards.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"forgive me one last time" ft. the monster trio!

headcanons of highschool!au monster trio as your boyfriend begging for forgiveness after fucking shit up :) m.list

luffy:

- "yn" he mumbles, trailing after you in the hallways "stop trailing me" you hiss as you open the locker, shoving the books inside and taking out another "yn" his hands are wrapping around your waist, his neck finding home in the crook of your neck and he's whining again, "please forgive me, pretty please?" - it wasn't even like you got mad often tbh; dating luffy meant he is gonna do stupid shit and you're gonna have to deal with it but there was a limit to stupid shit too - you shove his head away from your neck, "romilda fuckin' asked you, "wanna go watch a movie??" and you said yes. how can you say yes to a date while you have a girlfriend?! do i mean nothing?!" "i didn't know it was a date!!" his hands are wrapping around you tighter, "i thought she was lonely and wanted to hangout with a friend!! you know i wouldn't have said yes otherwise ynnn~" "are you an id-" you huff, "i'm getting late for class, get off" you forgave his dumbassery on the regular but come on, now its insane - yeah you didn't forgive him - not until you came back to keep your books and take new ones for the next period and saw giant "i miss you" and "sorry" glittery stickers plastered onto your locker (did he steal those from a 3rd grader? youre not sure) - you huffed, opening the locker - your jaw went slack - the entire locker was full of your favourites. your favourite candy, the cookies sanji always makes during christmas (how did he get those rn??), your favourite soda and flowers - how did he manage all that in the time span of one period??? - at the side is a note in a scrawly handwriting, "you wanna go watch a movie with me? (asking you for a date, not as a friend who wants to hangout) boyfriend :)" - you ended up forgiving him only after he bought he a bucket of popcorn and kissed you during the end credits of the movie - he also had to buy you dinner from the baratie like a gentleman.

zoro:

- "zo," you huff, "it's like the thousandth time, ofcourse im gonna be fucking mad at you!" "i know" he groans, "i really know, but i'm sorry, please" "no. you can't keep saying you'd show up for my events and then fuckin' disappear like always!" - you're fighting in hushed whispers in the hallway, you didn't wanna cause a scene because you know how bad zoro finds public attention - you know he's busy training, busy with his friends and you know he loves you but a part of you wonders if he simply doesn't actually love you - he constantly fails to show up at your events, he has never outright called you his girlfriend in front of people who weren't his close friends and he has never even held your hand in public because he says pda makes him uncomfortable - you got him but it simply sounds like he's afraid to admit you both are together - "are you not happy with me?" your voice is breaking, crumbling into silent heaves, "do not lo-" "what?" his hands find yours, "no, ofcourse not. baby, i just had another practice and dad (mihawk) called me back home. im sorry, i couldn't say no to him" "i know b-" - he kisses you - in the middle of the fucking hallway, with other people around - he does it. that bastard. - his hands are tucking your hair behind your ear, resting softly on your cheek as he tip you backwards and kisses you till you cannot possibly breath "i love you" he says loud enough so that anybody within earshot could hear, flashing you a small smile his voice comes down to a whisper, "i'm sorry i suck at being a good boyfriend, i will get better okay?" - he follows through on that promise because the next time, he is standing at your event with a tshirt just reading "yn is the coolest" and a small, stupid smile on his face "was the tshirt necessary?" "yes" - ugh i love soft zoro

sanji:

- sanji had a (bad) habit of always backing you up - one might wonder what's bad about that but when he almost beat the shit out of a random guy for saying he didn't like your vibes - "sanji!" you pull him away, eyes widening, "stop it" "but yn" "you cannot keep doing this! you cannot keep fucking putting up a fight against anybody who doesn't like me-" "yes i can" "sanji." - it ended up leading to a fight and you stormed off into the class - you expected sanji to come apologize the very next period or atleast text you or something - but nothing. you didn't see him for the rest of the day. - not until it was 9 pm and all of a sudden, a cheesy pop song was playing outside your window and in your front lawn stood a drenched, blonde guy holding up a boombox and a giant wet, white sheet reading "FORGIVE ME YN IM SORRY PLEASE I LOVE YOU" - first of all why was he drenched? it wasn't even fucking raining - that brings your attention to his two best friends, luffy and zoro holding a hose at him from a distance (luffy is giggling, he's having the time of his life, zoro looks like he hates being alive) - "sanji why are STANDING IN FRONT OF WATER?!" "SO THAT YOU FORGIVE ME, MY LOVE IM SORRY" "YOU'D CATCH A COLD, COME INSIDE IDIOT!!" - well, he did bring a box full of home-made chocolate though, so you cannot be mad at him for long - did this event stop him from being a bit over-bearing? no, not really but eh, that's sanji for ya

a/n: cutesy little headcanon lol thankyou so much @scentisterror for helping me with this <3<3 m.list

[ach-sss-no]

someone asked why i loudly asserted that the stewing rabbits bit of lotr is the opposite book vs. movie and i think it is time to move off of the giant reblog chain i'm making

The Premise: Sam, Frodo and Gollum are all doing the opposite of what they are doing in the book in some fashion or another

(first off: in the movie they abandon the stew and don't eat it. the book takes a lot longer with all of this, and they do in fact eat the stew, and I definitely understand the movie couldn't be as expansive with the pacing but it's just. funny to me. they don't eat the stew vs. they do eat the stew, there's your first opposite)

now. THE SCENE: Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit

(Small disclaimer/disclosure: I referenced the script instead of a movie clip for this, so there may be some nuance missed in visuals or whatever but I don't think it would be enough of a difference to matter and hopefully you will soon see why not)

Frodo

Starting with him because this is simplest.

In the movie, Frodo is just sitting there minding his own business when Gollum dumps dead rabbits in his lap. (Then he doesn't interact with the ensuing conversation at all)

In the book he's asleep when Gollum brings the rabbits and does not participate in the scene. Okay, so he's awake vs. asleep. Easy.

(Also, book Frodo didn't witness the conflict between the other two characters and had no opportunity to intervene, which creates an interesting 'what could have been', but I am digressing. We are only 10% of the way in. buckle up)

Sam

In the movie, Sam is passive and reacting. Gollum dumps dead rabbits in Mr. Frodo's lap oh no what do I guess we'll cook them

In the book, Sam is active and orchestrating events.

Sam decides of his own accord that he wants to address their dwindling supplies:

Sam had been giving earnest thought to food as they marched. Now that the despair of the impassable Gate was behind him, he did not feel so inclined as his master to take no thought for their livelihood beyond the end of their errand; [in case you forgot. Earlier on Sam was like 'we won't have enough food for the way back' and frodo essentially responds with 'the way back. oh you sweet summer child'] and anyway it seemed wiser to him to save the waybread of the Elves for worse times ahead.

Note: This is all very good reasoning by Mr. Samwise and an excellent example of why he's so necessary to the quest! Yes, staying alive is step one.

But Where to get food? In both movie and book Sam is taking advantage of his resources (dead rabbits acquired via gollum), but in the book he's way more proactive about it:

An idea struck him and he turned to Gollum. Gollum had just begun to sneak off on his own, and he was crawling away on all fours through the fern. 'Hi! Gollum!' said Sam. 'Where are you going? Hunting? Well see here, old noser, you don't like our food, and I'd not be sorry for a change myself. Your new motto's always ready to help. Could you find anything fit for a hungry hobbit? ' 'Yes, perhaps, yes,' said Gollum. 'Sméagol always helps, if they asks-- if they asks nicely.' 'Right!' said Sam. 'I does ask. And if that isn't nice enough, I begs.'

In this point in the book Sam has now:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Arrived at a solution to the problem without any outside help or suggestions

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

In the point in the movie Sam has done:

Nothing

I'm not exaggerating. In the movie the scene hasn't started yet.

In both book and movie, rabbits are acquired a little while later. In the book this is a nonevent because Sam requested and expected rabbits. In the movie, the rabbits unexpectedly appear, and Gollum says they are for the hobbits to eat (Sam doesn't even come up with the idea to eat them on his own!)

They are young. They are tender. They are nice. Yes they are! Eat them! Eat them! [He bites and tears into the raw meat.]

GOLLUM SHOWED HIM HOW TO EAT THEM LIKE A MOTHER CAT.

Anyway, in the movie, we just cut to Sam stewing the rabbits after that.

But in the book, Sam isn't done arranging things:

He thought for a bit, while he took out his knife, cleaned and whetted it, and began to dress the rabbits. He was not going to leave Frodo alone asleep even for a few minutes. 'Now, Gollum,' he said, 'I've another job for you. Go and fill these pans with water, and bring 'em back! '

'Sméagol will fetch water, yes,' said Gollum. 'But what does the hobbit want all that water for? He has drunk, he has washed.' 'Never you mind,' said Sam. `If you can't guess, you'll soon find out. And the sooner you fetch the water, the sooner you'll learn. Don't you damage one of my pans, or I'll carve you into mincemeat.'

So now Sam has:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Arrived at a solution to the problem without any outside help or suggestions

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

Lovingly watched Frodo sleep

Collected rabbits after they were provided and begun skinning them

Assigned Gollum to fill his cook-pans

Gollum leaves to do this new errand and Sam starts building a cook fire.

He was just stooping over his fire, shielding it and building it up with heavier wood, when Gollum returned, carrying the pans carefully and grumbling to himself. He set the pans down, and then suddenly saw what Sam was doing. He gave a thin hissing shriek, and seemed to be both frightened and angry. 'Ach! Sss -- no!' he cried. 'No! Silly hobbits, foolish, yes foolish! They mustn't do it!' 'Mustn't do what?' asked Sam in surprise. 'Not make the nassty red tongues,' hissed Gollum. `Fire, fire! It's dangerous, yes it is. It burns, it kills. And it will bring enemies, yes it will.'

Sam has just been given a completely sane and rational reason why a fire is a bad idea (they are in a dangerous area and can't risk attention!) (as well as a reason that is less pertinent- it looks like Gollum is afraid of fire, and he may have sensible reasons to be afraid of fire because it is dangerous, but this is not Sam's problem)

Sam addresses the 'it will bring enemies' thing

'I don't think so,' said Sam. `Don't see why it should, if you don't put wet stuff on it and make a smother. But if it does, it does. I'm going to risk it, anyhow. I'm going to stew these coneys.'

And Sam is like, nah.

Now Gollum gets upset that he's 'ruining good meat' by cooking it

Now Sam de-escalates

Now, now! ' said Sam. 'Each to his own fashion. Our bread chokes you, and raw coney chokes me. If you give me a coney, the coney's mine, see, to cook, if I have a mind. And I have. You needn't watch me. Go and catch another and eat it as you fancy -- somewhere private and out o' my sight. Then you won't see the fire, and I shan't see you, and we'll both be the happier. [He still managed to slip in a 'get out of my sight'] I'll see the fire don't smoke, if that's any comfort to you.'

In the movie he just insults the quality of the meat:

SAM What's to ruin? There's hardly any meat on 'em.

...which I suppose is fair in this alternate universe where the rabbits were just dumped in his lap, unwanted.

Then in the movie they skip to the taters conversation, but in the book, there's more!

Back to the book:

Gollum withdrew grumbling, and crawled into the fern. Sam busied himself with his pans. 'What a hobbit needs with coney,' he said to himself, 'is some herbs and roots, especially taters -- not to mention bread. Herbs we can manage, seemingly.' 'Gollum!' he called softly. 'Third time pays for all. I want some herbs.'

Gollum says no.

'Sméagol'll get into real true hot water, when this water boils, if he don't do as he's asked,' growled Sam. 'Sam'll put his head in it, yes precious. And I'd make him look for turnips and carrots, and taters too, if it was the time o' the year. I'll bet there's all sorts of good things running wild in this country. I'd give a lot for half a dozen taters.'

Now Gollum asks what taters are, gets a cryptic answer, and is offered a kind of food he has just expressed he does not want (cooked food) and again ordered to fetch herbs. Gollum declines.

'You couldn't say no to that.' 'Yes, yes we could. Spoiling nice fish, scorching it. Give me fish now, and keep nassty chips!' 'Oh you're hopeless,' said Sam. 'Go to sleep!'

The movie finally has some of the same words in almost the same place:

SAM PO-TAY-TOES! Boil 'em. Mash 'em. Stick 'em in a stew. Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish…. SM�AGOL [i'm not fixing it blah] [Sticks out his tongue in disgust] Pbbbttt!! [so now he's just devolved into making fart noises] SAM Even you couldn't say no to that. [He takes a sip of the stew] SM�AGOL Oh yes we could! Spoil nice fish... [scrambles up close to Sam] Give it to usss rrraw... and wrrriggling! [That line is not in the book. every time i see it quoted i age a year] [Makes sickeningly happy face.] You keep nasty chips. [Hops away] SAM You're hopeless.

The scene here ends in the movie.

In the movie, Sam has:

Watched rabbits be thrown at Frodo

Started cooking them after being all but commanded to eat them

Had some banter with Gollum

Left the scene without eating his stew

Sam is a passive character who is not orchestrating events, but rather reacting to them. A character being passive is not in and of itself a bad thing. I am only pointing it out because it is different from the book and a big change to this specific character (wanted to mention that because some people really don't like passive characters in general, I think they have a place. Frodo is rather passive in this scene but he obviously has a purpose.)

...In the book, Sam stews the rabbits for an hour and then eats the stew with Frodo

Frodo yawned and stretched. 'You should have been resting Sam,' he said. 'And lighting a fire was dangerous in these parts.

Wow! Was it? I feel like someone mentioned that earlier.

'Gollum! ' Sam called and whistled softly. 'Come on! Still time to change your mind. There's some left, if you want to try stewed coney.' There was no answer. 'Oh well, I suppose he's gone off to find something for himself. We'll finish it,' said Sam. [...] We don't see eye to eye, and he's not pleased with Sam, O no precious, not pleased at all.'

Whyever not?

To sum, book!Sam has:

Decided of his own accord that he has a problem and that he wants to actively solve it

Decided he's going to assign Gollum to the problem (This also demonstrates Sam's interpersonal intelligence. He notices what Gollum's capable of and understands intuitively how it can be turned to something industrious and useful) (Sam has made some missteps in other areas which are in the next section)

Commanded Gollum to go hunt

Collected rabbits after they were provided (according to his request), and began skinning them

Watched Frodo sleep

Assigned Gollum to fill his cook-pans, specifically because he does not want to leave Gollum and Frodo alone together, which is sensible

Threatened to carve Gollum into mincemeat, while holding a knife

Watched Frodo sleep and reflected on his poor health

Skinned the rabbits and put them in stew

Been told a cook fire is a bad idea and declined to stop what he's doing. A character being told to stop doing something & continuing with it anyway is another way for that character to show agency.

Asked Gollum to fetch herbs and potatoes (was refused)

Foraged a few herbs himself

Eaten lovely stew (while lamenting that there are no onions in it, and no bowls to put it in ;_;)

Offered Gollum stew long after (hours after) Gollum got angry and left

...all because Sam initially decided he wanted to acquire and cook food, and then took every necessary step to make that happen of his own accord.

Sam is an active character with high agency.

He is also showing more care for Frodo here (watching him while asleep and fretting over his health, lamenting that he somehow made rabbit stew from nothing by using his resources (which do here include another character- people are also resources!) but he can't put it in a nice bowl for mr. frodo- there's just a lot more here, which is natural because prose is a more detail-rich medium. Not all of this would have fit in the movie and I'm not saying it should have.

Even allowing for time, however, I do think there would have been a way to collapse this scene to the needed time requirement and still have Sam in charge of it instead of Gollum.

The scene finally ends on:

Then he noticed a thin spiral of blue-grey, smoke, plain to see as it caught the sunlight, rising from a thicket above him. With a shock he realized that this was the smoke from his little cooking-fire, which he had neglected to put out.

Did anyone foresee this?

Gollum

In the movie, Gollum is foisting a gift on Frodo and forcing social interaction that he doesn't want.

In the book, Gollum wants to go away somewhere so he can eat and is pressed into reluctant manual labor instead

Gollum is a little different from the other two characters in that his personality and motivations are also completely different here. (Where as Sam at least still has the same goals of looking after Frodo and making food.)

The scene is in Sam's POV so what Gollum is thinking and feeling has to be inferred from his actions/words/tone, but he's not exactly subtle.

The movie scene starts off with Gollum turning up with rabbits. He dumps them in Frodo's lap. He makes a spectacle of himself. He starts mauling the corpses.

The book scene starts off with Gollum trying to slip away somewhere to eat in private.

That's another thing. Gollum doesn't demonstratively bite into things Gollum always slips away somewhere to eat in private. Earlier:

It was actually not long before Gollum returned; but he came so quietly that they did not hear him till he stood before them. His fingers and face were soiled with black mud. He was still chewing and slavering. [He didn't bring food back on purpose. He's still chewing because he only has six teeth.] What he was chewing, they did not ask or like to think. 'Worms or beetles or something slimy out of holes,' thought Sam. 'Brr! The nasty creature; the poor wretch! ' Gollum said nothing to them, until he had drunk deeply and washed himself in the stream. Then he came up to them, licking his lips. 'Better now,' he said.

(Emphasis added.. Imagine you just recruited a serial killer to your D&D-party-in-real-life and he silently turns up covered in mud and won't talk to you. It looks like he's been eating bugs. He won't speak. he won't tell you what he's eating.)

Back to the scene in question: Gollum's leaving. Sam flags him down and asks him to hunt.

'Hi! Gollum!' said Sam. 'Where are you going? Hunting? Well see here, old noser, you don't like our food, and I'd not be sorry for a change myself. Your new motto's always ready to help. Could you find anything fit for a hungry hobbit? '

He asks in an insulting and confrontational way. ('old noser' + 'Your new motto's always ready to help' reeking of suspicion)

To be clear, I'm not criticizing Sam whatsoever for disliking and being suspicious of the known murderer he's traveling with against his will. but the way he talks to Gollum does have consequences.

'Yes, perhaps, yes,' said Gollum. 'Sméagol always helps, if they asks -- if they asks nicely.'

Gollum is reluctant and asks to be treated politely. I don't find this response disproportionate or unreasonable. Consider what would happen if anyone talked to LOTR-era Bilbo Baggins the way Sam just talked to Gollum. The ash would still be falling from the sky.

Anyway Sam's response is to mimic the way he talks.

'Right!' said Sam. 'I does ask. And if that isn't nice enough, I begs.'

Gollum leaves, and is gone a long time. While he's gone, Sam gazes lovingly at Frodo, and - this is not directly relevant but I wanted to note it:

Gollum returned quietly and peered over Sam's shoulder. Looking at Frodo, he shut his eyes and crawled away without a sound. [Seeing that Sam and Frodo are occupied, Gollum slips away without interrupting, which is also a different vibe from 'assaulting Frodo with rabbits while he's just sitting there.'] Sam came to him a moment later and found him chewing something and muttering to himself

Look! There's a character arc happening in the background [but not in the movies] It will reach fruition at Cirith Ungol [in the books]

Anyway, Gollum is chewing on something so he's clearly taken time out to hunt for himself as well (note for context: He's disastrously underweight and has been complaining of hunger).

On the ground beside him lay two small rabbits, which he was beginning to eye greedily. 'Sméagol always helps,' he said. `He has brought rabbits, nice rabbits. But master has gone to sleep, and perhaps Sam wants to sleep. Doesn't want rabbits now? Sméagol tries to help, but he can't catch things all in a minute.'

Gollum has brought rabbits on command, and he's reluctant to hand them over. This is the direct opposite of bringing rabbits of his own accord out of nowhere and forcing them onto somebody.

'Now, Gollum,' he said, 'I've another job for you. Go and fill these pans with water, and bring 'em back! ' 'Sméagol will fetch water, yes,' said Gollum. 'But what does the hobbit want all that water for? He has drunk, he has washed.' 'Never you mind,' said Sam.

That was a reasonable question, asked politely and prefaced by 'yes I'll do it'. There's no call for a 'never you mind' and there's certainly no call for this:

`If you can't guess, you'll soon find out. And the sooner you fetch the water, the sooner you'll learn. Don't you damage one of my pans, or I'll carve you into mincemeat.'

Gollum does the work and is careful with the pans as requested.

He was just stooping over his fire, shielding it and building it up with heavier wood, when Gollum returned, carrying the pans carefully and grumbling to himself.

He set the pans down, and then suddenly saw what Sam was doing.

Gollum discovers that 'Never you mind' meant 'I am going to do something you find dangerous and terrifying' i'm pretty sure this is what he's seeing in his POV

He gave a thin hissing shriek, and seemed to be both frightened and angry. `Ach! Sss -- no!' he cried.

Gollum gets angry.

At this point in the movie, Gollum has:

Dumped rabbits in Frodo's lap

Told him to eat them

Played with the dead animals in front of Frodo

there's a cut to Sam cooking the rabbits- Gollum makes no comment at all on the safety or feasibility of a fire, but gets right up close to it to peer into the cookpot, so he must not be too scared of it.

In the book, Gollum has:

Tried to slip away, presumably to eat, because he's hungry. Or maybe he just wants alone time! Shelob is not in visiting range. He's not being dastardly. Leave him alone

He's been flagged down to do additional work, and interrupted from whatever he wanted to do

Went off somewhere. Caught two rabbits (with his bare hands, I assume??) Also caught at least one other thing, because he's chewing something when he comes back

Came back with rabbits

Left Sam to his tender moment with Frodo and went off for more alone time

Gently floated the idea that perhaps Sam doesn't want these rabbits anymore, surrendered the rabbits when asked

Agreed to another errand that is probably difficult for him to do, after hunting down at least two rabbits Up to this point Gollum has been called 'old noser', had his speech patterns parroted at him in a mocking way, had a polite question refused, and been told he will be 'carved into mincemeat' if he damages the cooking pans (does Gollum even know what a cooking pan is? When was the last time he's seen one? Was he just handed some foreign object and told 'put water in it and don't break it' 'of course! why?' 'stfu') Gollum has a whole long complicated history that would reasonably make him very prone to difficulties with emotional regulation. Severe trauma and centuries of social isolation are involved.

He only just now gets angry, now that he thinks Sam is going to start a forest fire and summon orcs and the first word out of his mouth is a relatively restrained 'Ach!' a word that doesn't even start with an F!

Gollum says fire is harmful and will draw enemy attention. Sam says essentially 'probably not but if it does that's too bad'.

Another bit of context is that Gollum has been presenting himself as the 'wilderness survival guy' and has obvious pride when he's talking about finding his way through the marsh. Sam isn't just being dismissive of Gollum, he's particularly dismissing something Gollum has real knowledge of and takes pride in that has nothing to do with being a corrupted evildoer.

Then Sam says he's going to cook the food.

'Stew the rabbits!' squealed Gollum in dismay. `Spoil beautiful meat Sméagol saved for you, poor hungry Sméagol! What for? What for, silly hobbit? They are young, they are tender, they are nice. Eat them, eat them!' He clawed at the nearest rabbit, already skinned and lying by the fire.

After all of that, we are at 'They are young, they are tender, they are nice. Eat them, eat them!' In the movie, the scene started with this line, apropros of nothing, and it's just. Yelled at Frodo. It's an invitation.

In the book: The same line is a cry of frustration. This isn't a non sequitur, this is a last straw! Gollum is hungry. He's been chronically hungry for a long time. The rabbits are exactly the kind of thing he likes to eat. They must smell amazing to him because now they're skinned. He had to turn them over to Sam after going to the work of hunting them (he didn't have to do this, he could have just not come back, or pretended he didn't find anything- whether or not his motives are pure, and they probably aren't, he's doing what he promised).

In return: Sam told him to do more work, and then started a fire- which Gollum seems to genuinely think is idiotic and puts his own safety at risk because he's stuck with these hobbits for the time being- Sam won't listen to reason and put it out, and to add insult to injury, that meat he insisted on?

HE'S JUST GOING TO RUIN IT

Imagine you were hungry and you brought someone an oreo (also you had to wander around in the woods and find the oreo and then surprise it from behind and break its neck), and that person just! scraped off the cream filling and replaced it with spray cheese! after that person called you a jerk and set a fire in a trash can! Maybe that person loves spray-cheese oreos! Maybe everyone but you loves them! I think you'd still be frustrated! (If you're the person who loves spray cheese oreos, pretend it's something else.)

On my first reading of the book this is where I got that sinking 'I am feeling a mite sympathetic to the horrible murderer that I know is just going to stay evil and die in the end' feeling. Gollum is being dreadfully annoying, but he's been pushed past his ability to self-regulate. It feels like the dynamic of antagonizing someone until they melt down and then criticizing them for melting down (Sam is not intending to do this, and doesn't even seem to notice that's what's happened, but the result is the same.)

Sam smooths things over and lets Gollum leave! until

Until

'Gollum!' he called softly. 'Third time pays for all. I want some herbs.' Gollum's head peeped out of the fern, but his looks were neither helpful nor friendly.

WHYEVER NOT?

'A few bay-leaves, some thyme and sage, will do -- before the water boils,' said Sam. 'No! ' said Gollum. `Sméagol is not pleased. And Sméagol doesn't like smelly leaves. He doesn't eat grasses or roots, no precious, not till he's starving or very sick, poor Sméagol.'

(Gollum was retching at the scent of flowers earlier. He may be annoyingly dramatic but I have no cause to doubt that they really did make him feel ill)

(also, I'm out in the weeds speculating now, but I just noticed Gollum is starting to spout off talking about himself and how he feels after Sam pooh-poohed his fretting about the fire, and it feels like a bid for recognition, did you notice Sam has not been calling him Sméagol? Sam isn't using his real name.)

The response:

'Sméagol'll get into real true hot water, when this water boils, if he don't do as he's asked,' growled Sam.

Gollum is here under duress and is cooperating with a quest that is in every way opposed to his personal interests and survival.

'Sméagol won't go, O no precious, not this time,' hissed Gollum. 'He's frightened, and he's very tired, and this hobbit's not nice, not nice at all. Sméagol won't grub for roots and carrotses and -- taters. What's taters, precious, eh, what's taters?

He hasn't had any rest because he was immediately sent off to hunt. I'll bet he is tired

Gollum is still willing to stop being angry because he saw a shiny new word, let's see how this goes

`Po-ta-toes,' said Sam. 'The Gaffer's delight, and rare good ballast for an empty belly. But you won't find any, so you needn't look. But be good Sméagol and fetch me the herbs, and I'll think better of you

Sam gives a cryptic answer and demands more work. 'I'll think better of you?' Lies! Gollum just did two errands and received nothing but more verbal abuse. Sam did not even thank him. This was where on my first reading I was saying to myself 'oh no Sam is mishandling this really badly and doesn't even notice'

I'll cook you some taters one of these days. I will: fried fish and chips served by S. Gamgee. You couldn't say no to that.' 'Yes, yes we could. Spoiling nice fish, scorching it. Give me fish now, and keep nassty chips! ' 'Oh you're hopeless,' said Sam. 'Go to sleep!'

Gollum doesn't understand what chips are. He just said he doesn't like plants or cooked food. He's tired and hungry and has been ordered around all day. He did everything asked up to now and in return he gets called hopeless.

Sméagol willingly, nonconfrontationally, successfully did two out of the three tasks, and when he refuses a third task after being demeaned and dismissed, he's called hopeless.

So Gollum leaves. That's the end of his involvement in this scene. he didn't hit anyone, bite anyone, or call Sam anything worse than 'not nice', 'silly' and 'foolish' (He does not call Sam a 'stupid fat hobbit', that appears to be a movie invention as well)

In the movies, he threw dead animals at frodo and some of this dialog was said without any of the context. haha funni.

The takeaways from the book version are that Gollum can understand and follow verbal commands and do errands (this is important because Gollum needs to be somewhat sane and lucid in order to satisfyingly be held accountable for his crimes), will cooperate when asked, communicates poorly, has trouble controlling his temper, and may at any time be in physical distress and not show it. (He doesn't give outward signs of fatigue.)

The takeaways from the movie version seem to be that Gollum is hyperactive, doesn't understand facial expressions, and finds cooking to be an alien custom. No one tried to ask him to do anything, so I have no idea whether he can understand requests and do tasks or not. May or may not be lucid.

Can we at least agree that Sam saying 'You're hopeless' after this:

Give it to usss rrraw… and wrrriggling! [Makes sickeningly happy face.]

is a different vibe from Sam saying 'You're hopeless' after hearing this?

'[Sméagol]'s frightened, and he's very tired, and this hobbit's not nice, not nice at all.'

Summary

Why is this scene the opposite?

Frodo has gone from being asleep but serving as an emotional anchor (both Sam and Gollum look at him and have some kind of emotional revelation, although the latter has his in private and we don't ever know what it is, the cad) to being awake but doing nothing and leaving. (He does go and find Faramir when the scene ends, but at that point, we are moving on to the next scene. so I don't count it.) Frodo has gone from affecting events while asleep to having no effect while awake

Sam has gone from being in charge of what's happening to passively reacting to a chaos gremlin

Gollum has gone from following orders until he can't take it anymore and suffering to being a chaos gremlin who does whatever he wants and seemingly having a good time? he's dancing around

The stew goes from eaten to uneaten

The overall purpose of the original scene appears to have been mainly to establish character and relationship dynamics. The movie scene... is doing the same, I suppose, but it's so brief and stripped of context that it almost feels like an homage more than a real scene, like it's there because they couldn't get away with entirely cutting it. And as every character is behaving contrary to what they used to in one form or another, the overall effect is:

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Ask me about the waterfall scene next

[zer0pm]

Imagine being an undercover agent who once infiltrated Umbrella and grew close to Luis Serra. You were forced to separate from him, never telling him why and broke his heart in the process. When you thought that you have finally moved on, you find him again. Tied up in a sack.

“What’s in Spain?”

“My home. A village, to be exact. And remote. The people there could use people like us to help them. No one would be able to find us there. Not even Umbrella. There, we can disappear.”

“…I’m sorry, Luis. I can’t.”

.

“You seem distracted.”

“What?” you blink, immediately biting your tongue after. But it was too late, you were caught red-handed.

“Case in point,” your partner Leon sighs. “So, what is it? What’s on your mind?”

You reply with a frown, “I’m wondering how deep these tunnels go. Must have something important down here for these… villagers to go through the trouble of trying to lock it up inconspicuously.”

It was such a blatant lie, the blond’s stony expression showed that he wasn’t buying it at all. But Leon doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leads on with his gun and flashlight pointing forward in the darkness. You were relieved that he didn’t press further.

But he’s also right. You were distracted and on a mission where a steady, focused mind is imperative at all times. Mulling over the past on things that were best laid forgotten is meaningless and offered no benefit to the task at hand. So why bother even allowing it to weigh so heavily in your thoughts?

Because what are the odds that this is the same place that he mentioned? The one that he wanted to hide away with you within? Given everything you’ve seen so far, with all these monsters roaming about, you sincerely hope not. Surely this is all coincidental and that he is in some other part of Spain.

.

“You mentioned that you grew up in Spain, right? What was it like there?”

“Oh? For once you don’t want to talk about work or whatever ingenius discoveries I’ve made recently? Pero, you actually want to engage in small talk? It must be a sign!”

“Answer the question or I’m requesting a department change.”

“Calma, calma. I only tease. Hmm… The weather can be unforgiving, especially during the rainy season. The people live day-to-day on whatever resources that can grow or be found under the constantly harsh conditions. Sickness often spreads and the treatment is… archaic.”

“This all sounds awful.”

“It wasn’t all bad. Everyone in our small community had someone to support them. I had my grandfather. He helped shape me to be the man I am today. A very handsome man at that, with both brains and brawn. In case, you didn’t notice already.”

“He must be very proud of you.”

“I hope so...”

“You don’t keep in touch?”

“So interested in my life story all of a sudden. And yet I still know so little of yours.”

“What’s there to know? There’s not much to tell.”

“See, that is where you’re wrong, my friend. A key to a great story is time to gather your thoughts. And I wouldn’t mind making time to listen to yours. How does after work sound? There’s an excellent coffee spot around the corner.”

“…You know what? A drink sounds great.”

.

You should have rejected him then and there. The task was only to gather information and find evidence of the production of biochemical weaponry. Forming attachments was not part of the job. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him then, convincing yourself that it was necessary to reinforce your cover. You were seen as just a researcher forging deep interpersonal relationships with your fellow coworker and not at all a spy for the government sent to infiltrate a pharmaceutical giant for secrets that could topple a nation.

No one suspected a thing- not Umbrella, not your handlers, not even him. It worked. But it didn’t make you feel any less guilty about it, especially when you developed real feelings for him and he reciprocated them earnestly and affectionately. At first, you meant to play along with no intention of taking him seriously. The Spanish researcher expressed himself as a man who talks a big game but settles down or folds over for no one. He had a reputation within the labs as a serial flirt after all.

However, the day he casually asked you out, he surprised you. Beneath all the playful, charming remarks and practiced come-hither smirks belied a genuine romantic. He was a man passionate about his work, driven by a real desire to help others. He cared about other people, evident at how intently he listened to you when your shared bits of yourself to him. Granted, much of what you said then was fabricated to uphold your secret identity, but he showed unwavering interest in you and the image you created as if you two were only people in that coffee shop that mattered. After one date came another, then another, then another until you lost count. You fell for him and you fell for him hard. And before you knew it, at his suggestion, the two of you moved in together.

It was a dream. A wonderful dream. You couldn’t remember the last time you lived a normal life, let alone someone to come home to. It was such a domestic feeling. To go wit him to work by day then go home together by night to fall asleep in each other’s arms and do it all over again the following morning. To fall into a routine was strange and something you grew affectionately accustomed to. And it was all because of him. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved. He made you feel normal. But it was only a dream. And all dreams eventually come to an end.

It got to a point where you dug yourself so deep that by the time you had to shed your identity and leave him, it left scars that neither of you would ever recover from.

.

“¿Qué? What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I can’t go to Spain with you.”

“Is it the location? We can go anywhere you want,l, but we have to make sure we hide our tracks from Umbrella-”

“I mean that I can’t go with you. Anywhere. Period.”

“¿Mande? Why.”

“I want to tell you, I really do.”

“…Tú no me quieres.”

“No! Of course I do.”

“Then why? Why can’t you run away with me? I can protect us, you just have to trust-”

“This isn’t about trust.”

“Then tell me what it is!”

“…This isn’t going to work. I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“L-Lo siento, mi corazon. I didn’t meant to shout. We can work through this-”

“Just please remember that what we had was real.”

“¡Amor!”

“Goodbye, Luis.”

.

That was the last time you saw him. You broke his heart, the pieces of yours shattered away with every step that you took away from him. Revisiting those memories all caused a single tear to fall down your cheek.

You have to move on. It’s been long enough. It was all to protect him, you told yourself countless times. In your line of work, attachments just do not (and cannot) stick. And you stuck with that choice without an ounce of regret. You only hope that wherever Luis is now, he’s happy and safe. That alone kept you going.

When you finally broke yourself out of your daze, you found yourself facing a wall. You quietly berated yourself for your absentmindedness again and were grateful for the darkness. Luckily, your fellow agent didn’t notice you or your inner turmoil, something else catching his attention at the end of the tunnel.

“Over here. I found someone.”

Your head snaps towards Leon’s direction, your heartache momentarily dulled and set aside. “Ashley Graham?”

“Don’t know yet,” Leon replies, crouching down. “Here, hold the light.”

You hurry over to the blond’s side, taking the flashlight from him and directing it towards his finding. A large sack, big enough for a person, was flailing about. The sound of muffled struggling reaches your ears. Leon unties the top of the thick cloth before pulling it down. You almost didn’t believe what, or rather, who you were seeing. But your eyes were blown wide in recognition before Leon rips the tape off of their mouth. There was no mistaking those rugged features, that dark hair, and those grey eyes that you fell in love with helplessly so long ago.

It was him. The man that haunted your every thoughts and dreams. The man that dug his way into your heart and made a home there.

Luis Serra Navarro.

“Oh no, not you.”

The man merely gazes back at you, momentarily stunned before chuckling in that husky voice of his that you thought you’d never hear again.

“I’ve missed you too, mi corazon,” he says. His eyes glide over your form lasciviously, uncaring that you (and your partner) can see him staring shamelessly. He looked and smiled at you as if the years spent apart never happened. “Te ves bien.”

You had so many questions.

.

.

.

A/N: Part Two can be found right here~

[familyagrestefanblog]

Though, let me clarify something here: Nathalie is just as guilty in how this turned out, in a couple of things her blame significantly outweighs Marinette's. This is important.

But im right now bothered by Marinette more because while the narrative claims Nathalie is good now, the story has also never shied away from properly acknowledging that she's AT MINIMUM a morally grey character.

Marinette on the other hand is consistently glorified, praised, and martyr-ed for absolutely EVERYTHING she does no matter how much it hurts others and harms the story in the long run as long as they end up smiling at her. Her feelings and validation are put first and it is treated as a fundamental truth that Maribug is the greatest girlboss goddess of all time who is always entitled to support, control, and power because it's HER and she says so and if she doesn't get it she's being bullied and oppressed and must make sure she gets what she wants.

This is not the same, and its what consistently turns Maribug's characters into such a moral threat since the retooling of season 4 that makes her involvement alot worse than the involvement of other characters.

Nathalie absolutely is a major problem in this now forwards, but Marinette's long established entitlement to play god and prioritise her feelings over morality whenever she doesn't like something and just hope for the best is the main problem. And this isn't new.

And no, I don't see how gaslighting Adrien now believing that the 14 years of abuse he experienced weren't real and HE is the problem in everything cause HE got it wrong because MARIBUG lovingly says so and teaches him what to truly feel and think is a loving thing to do (as we see at the very end of season 5, Marinette's lies fucked Adrien UP)

This once again just feels like Marinette doesn't want to have a fucking conversation so she's taking the fucked up route that's nicest to HER if she gets through with it.

So she learned nothing. She's still doing what she claimed to have been sorry for and she's still making herself out to be the most generous and caring goddess over it because she has complex human feelings (like everyone else) and Marinette is so spoiled by the narrative that she still takes that as her being right she's just "misunderstood" and not catered to enough.

This is, as always, what it comes down to. The problem is always the same. Marinette may genuinely start out with good and caring intentions, but her execution always ends up priorizing protecting herself and making sure SHE is okay first and foremost.

The problem is Marinette's goddess framing and that she can't be just wrong about something anymore without a giant fuss being made about it that overshadows the actual victims and stops the necessary steps from being taken to just get over the moral problem because the show refuses to not always have Marinette be validated in some way which muddles the morality.

[sinisterexaggerator]

I'll Put It On Your Tab

Wrecker x Gen! Reader

Warnings: Threats made with a blaster. Violence. Attempted robbery. A broken bone or two. Fluff, and a kiss. "Established" relationship vibes.

962 words

Notes: I decided to write a series of "goodbye" ficlets where the reader takes / removes something from each of CF99 as they part ways, however this one deviated a little bit from that path. In this case, the story is left open-ended.

For you, @allsystemsblue. I know you love Wreck. :D

Crosshair || Echo || Hunter || Tech

---

“I don’t want any trouble,” you pleaded, hands held high above your shoulders with arms bent at the elbows. The masked man before you held his blaster level with your abdomen, making a motion for you to fill his sack with all your credits.

“Everything,” he growled. “Put it in the bag.”

Trembling, you rushed to comply, your hard-earned money being forfeit to this brute who was sure to kill you if you did not obey his brusque command.

Your business was Mantell Mix in Ord Mantell City; you barely made ends meet as a simple street vendor. You had a few faithful customers, some more so than others, but otherwise you lived day-to-day off cartons sold. He was sure to clean you out; you would have to eat your product or starve until tomorrow, though the alternative was death.

You supposed you might just count your blessings and be thankful should he keep his word and spare you.

“Hurry up!” he barked; you jumped despite yourself, dropping your remaining profits on the ground for them to scatter at his feet. You gasped, afraid for any repercussions, immediately falling to your knees before him to quickly gather what you could to placate the increasingly impatient man.

“Karkin’ imbecile!” he hissed, pushing you backward by the heel of his boot. You fell onto your rump, staring up with horrified, wide eyes as he took aim at the space between them, tears threatening to fall as your heart crashed wildly behind your ribs.

“I’m sorry—” you began, tilting your head farther, fear expelled to be replaced with elation as your knight in not-so-shining armor loomed above your attacker, massive arms folded across the broad expanse of his chest.

“Is this guy bothering you?” Wrecker asked, almost comically so. He could not help himself, loving to make an entrance, no matter how dire the situation, it seemed.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, scurrying back on the palms of your hands before you attempted to stand. In that same moment, the perp and his half-filled sack of money swung around, Wrecker squeezing the barrel of his blaster so tightly, that he crushed it under the pressure of his fist.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” the clone demanded beneath his bucket, though this man was nowhere near the height of your darling hero. You watched with bated breath, your would-be robber struggling in vain within his grasp, his mutilated weapon tumbling awkwardly from his grip.

The sack of money had been abandoned, your assailant of the mind he would need both hands to ward off this towering giant who had made it his job to protect you. Though you thought to retrieve what was yours, you did not move a single muscle, watching the scene unfold as you silently thanked your lucky stars.

“Piss off!” the thug seethed, a flurry of motions catching your attention; something glinted in the streetlight above your humble cart.

“Wrecker!” you cried out, a hidden blade unsheathed. He appreciated your warning, but it was not necessary.

A twist and then a crack. The knife was just as easily discarded. The man screamed, though his cry of pain was momentary. Wrecker’s plastoid helmet had met with his skull, knocking him flat in the dirt with a resounding thud.

As soon as he was down for the count, you endeavored to wrap yourself around him; you hugged your rescuer as tightly as you could, though your arms would not even begin to enclose the entirety of his waist.

“Thank you,” you breathed, gazing up. Wrecker chortled nervously, rubbing the back of his head absentmindedly, even though his gear was in the way.

“Aww, it wasn’t nothing.” He shyly brushed away your gratitude. Wrecker always felt that way with you – shy -  though he was not sure what it meant.

You reached; you wanted to see his handsome face. He was beautiful to you, regardless of his many scars.

Wrecker obliged, craning his neck so that you might remove his helmet and set it off to the side. He smiled down at you, a twinkle sparkling in the umber depths of his good eye.

For a moment, he seemed proud. “I sure showed him!” he announced happily.

“You did,” you assured him kindly, unable to help yourself as you traced the raised lines spidering across his skin. You repaid his smile with one of your own, turning to rummage through your cart.

“I have something for you,” you said, withdrawing a fresh carton of his favorite treat. You took a piece between your fingers and offered it to him. He hesitated, finally bending down to gingerly take the small kernel between his teeth.

“Mmm,” he hummed, politely chewing with his mouth closed.  You offered another, this time replacing it with a press of your lips to his when he least expected.

Wrecker���s eyes rounded to saucers before he gradually relaxed, the surprisingly gentle man taking up either side of your face in the curves of his palms. His fingers came to rest just beneath your ears, the rebel clone using this opportunity to draw you in.

“This is better than Mantell Mix,” he mumbled against you; you tried to suppress a laugh, having meant to deepen your connection.

Instead, you grinned, opening eyes that had been shut so that you could lovingly regard him. You returned your hand to his face, cradling his jaw. “I owe you my life,” you whispered.

You thought you saw a hint of a blush as he stumbled to reply. "Uhhh- I'll settle for that," he bashfully requested.

You could barely contain your glee as you rose up on your tiptoes to kiss him one more time. "I'll put it on your tab,” you quipped playfully.

[rachetmath]

Can We Stop

(You know what I'll say my peace. This may be the last RWBY hate and Jaune defense I'm doing. I will talk about James, Pyrrha, and Summer later on. So I'm sorry. And to let you know I'm guilty of this too.)

Jaune: What is y'alls beef with me?

Rwbyfan: what?

Jaune: Why do you hate me so much?

Rwby fan: Because you steal screen from the main characters.

Jaune: For real? Okay, sorry but what about Harriet? Winter. Robyn. Or Qrow. 

RWBY fan: … … ..

Jaune: And since we are talking about time what has any of the main characters, you so believe to be, accomplished during said screen time they had?

RWBY fan: They accomplished plenty.

Jaune: *sigh and leave*

RWBY fan: Yeah, take your waste of screen time out of here. Pyrrha should have lived instead of you.

Me: *appeared* What up bitch?

RWBY fan: The hell? What are you doing?

Me: I'm here for that claim. Rep your set. What have any of your main characters accomplished with the amount of screen time they're given?

RWBY fan: Why is this important? 

Me: Because you keep saying the same stupid shit and I am tired of it. So explain?

RWBY fan: Well Ruby evacuated the people of Mantle. That was supposed to be Jaune’s job.

Me: Okay.

RWBY fan: Weiss finally took down her father and saved her people.

Me: Mm-hmm.

RWBY fan: Blake stopped Adam and the White Fang. Not only that her and Yang got the Happy huntresses on their side.

Me: Yeah.

RWBY fan: Yang finally finds her mother. Overcomes her fear with Adam. Got the relic scoring a victory for our heroes. And she has a girlfriend.

Me: okay so did Ruby master her silver eyes?

RWBY: Um, that's not the -

Me: No. Nope, that is important to learn because you know Salem exists. Speaking of Salem, can Ruby’s eyes even work on her?

RWBY fan: That is irrelevant. 

Me: Bet, so when Salem arrived in Atlas what was she doing?

RWBY fan: She was protecting Penny and Nora.

Me: So while Jaune was on the battlefield trying to get Oscar back Ruby was sitting on her ass. 

RWBY fan: Hey she-

Me: What about her mom? Did she discover anything about her?

RWBY fan: Only that she met Salem and-

Me: Died?

RWBY fan: Um Ruby-

Me: Ruby theorized. She only knows part of the story. Raven does.

RWBY fan: Still she- 

Me: People fell off the bridge. Penny is dead. Those people including Jaune’s teammates would have died if Jaune didn't stab Penny to save them. So technically he did his job and succeeded. While Ruby's plan, Amity Arena, fell apart.

RWBY fan: Um

Me: Alright, Weiss. Look, I said it before she screwed her family. She did nothing for her people. I mean come on she destroyed her home with nothing to show for it. 

RWBY fan: I mean she's gotten better.

Me: Yeah and less mature. Winter has an army to command and people who need her. Whitley has to run what little is left of his family business while Weiss gets to be with her friends and have fun—contributing nothing.

RWBY fan:...

Me: And I said before volume 6 that Weiss should have gone home. Go to Ironwood. Fill him in on her friend's situation and have him make an exception to bring them to Atlas. Instead, Weiss steals from Atlas military agents, destroys Atlas property, and endangers thousands to avoid her father. 

RWBY fan: … But Jaune-

Me: Yeah, he made the plan but it’s crazy everyone agreed to it. More importantly, he didn’t even lead the operation. Ruby did. And guess what it still somehow worked despite the people getting involved. But can I  please say that the way Cordovan conducted herself was insane. Like, was a giant robot really necessary?

Rwby fan: … … 

Me: Blake repeated the same mistakes that led her to become the person she was back in volumes 1-5.  She faced no consequences for her choices. Her parents, friends, and teammates welcomed her back with open arms. No one called her on it. Just Sun.

RWBY fan: Well she promised Yang she wouldn’t run away again.

Me: Fine, but does that change the fact that she told Robyn everything going off the deep end which like volume 2 got people either hurt or killed? And insane damage to a bridge or a whole city block.  Not to mention once they were caught they drove Ironwood off the deep end.

RWBY fan: Oh come on Ratchet. He was already there.

Me: I will talk about James and his bull shit later but come on you have to admit they were dirty for that. Especially Yang. 

RWBY fan: Now Yang-

Me: Yang was given a relic which she then gave to Ozpin. Then Ruby took it. Ruby almost lost it. Ruby then gave it to Oscar, knowing damn well he couldn’t fight yet. Then he lost it to Neo. And though she asked about it she never bothered trying to reclaim it or mention it ever again. Especially when they were in enemy territory. 

Rwby fan: Okay but that's not her fault.

Me: … … …  *breaths* Okay but here’s the thing, Yang called Ruby out on lying to James, who mind you gave her an arm. She debated on it with Ruby. But all of a sudden Blake thought of telling Robyn the truth and Yang was completely on board with it. No speech. No lecture. She was completely down with telling a stranger, someone she doesn’t even know instead of James.

RWBY fan: … …. 

Me: Isn’t that hypocritical? How is she going to judge Ruby, her leader, when she was the one who made a bad call? Never mind how come she can judge the Ace-ops for following orders when she allowed everyone else to bark orders at her? Especially the girl who was a terrorist once and still left her along with her sister to head back to Atlas. So much for keeping a promise.

Rwby: That was different.

Me: Again Blake was never called out on her bull crap. Yang might as well be a simp at this point because not only does she do as Blake tells her but she prioritizes Blake over her own sister. She is more down bad than Pyrrha.

RWBY fan: … …  Wow.

 Me: Overall team RWBY hasn’t done squat but makes things worse. And the fact that the people of Remnant find them to be heroes makes me wish Salem killed them all.

Rwby fan: … …. …. … 

Me: Now get ready because this will get crazy. Jaune hasn’t repeated any of his damn mistakes. 

Rwby fan: …

Me: When Oscar got kidnapped Jaune took the f***** opportunity to go get him. Though Oscar saved himself that doesn’t change the fact he charged through a warzone to save his friend. Something he damn straight couldn’t do when it came to Pyrrha. Then his team went up against a headmaster. And won. 

Rwby fan: Team Rwby beat the Ace op though.

Me: How powerful were the Ace-ops?

Rwby fan: That-

Me: That is very important. Round one, the Ace-ops just sneaked them. There was no struggle. They fought a different-skinned Grimm that Jaune managed to help beat. With no weapon in hand. In fact, they fought the same kinds of Grimm as our heroes. What makes them so powerful?

Rwby fan: … Um.

Me: And yeah team RWBY won but second round they lost and got trapped. Not to mention the Ace-ops weren’t even fighting them but each other. Arguing back and forth over orders,  they all agreed to follow.

Rwby fan: Oh.

Me: Then Jaune… Jaune managed to hoe Cinder out of the maiden powers. By killing Penny, he made sure Cinder didn’t get what she wanted. Unlike Beacon, where she shot Amber because Jaune wasn't watching the damn door. His one job.

Rwby fan: But Cinder got the relic.

Me: Who’s fault is that? Because I recall Penny was ordered to run. Not his fault. Not to mention Jaune was the reason Team RWBY GOT TO THE TREE.

Rwby fan: See you Jaune fans are the same. You keep dick riding-

Me: Stop. Look, I’m a Jaune fan. At first, I didn’t like him. But in later volumes, the man earned my sympathy and my respect. All I and probably a lot of Jaune fans want is for this man to be happy. So we have him finally pipe a girl, we just want him to be happy and loved and to move on from Pyrrha. When we have him strong and dependable we want this man to be happy and be a hero. We don’t want him to have all that trauma. Why do you think we were happy when Ruby was getting a taste?

RWBY fan: ….

Me: I'm just saying can we stop? “Jaune is a self-insert” Oc shipping exists. Come on. Don't act like none of you insert yourselves into these characters from time to time. It's okay. “He takes up screen time” We have completion videos of every character on screen. You will see the difference. “He takes the focus away from the story” Then how about team RWBY be interesting characters then. 

RWBY fan: *sad*

Me: Anyways let’s change the subject. Who’s this?

RWBY fan: The curious cat.

Me: No. He’s the Curious Diddy Cat.

Rwby fan: How?

Me: I mean he loved Alyx. Then Ruby. And in real life she’s eighteen, but in canon or in the show she’s a

Rwby fan: A?

Me: A.

Rwby fan: A-MINOR!

Me: Oh yeah.

Not Like Us By Kendrick Lamar

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Bet with the Devil (NSFW)

Lucifer Morningstar (The Sandman) x fem!Reader

NSFW 18+- MINORS WHO INTERACT CAN AND WILL BE BLOCKED.

Summary: Following Dream's narrow escape from Lucifer, chaos breaks lose in heaven. At least for the Archangels like yourself, the lowest ranking angels in heaven. With few options left, Michael appoints you to run an errand down to hell wherefore you are to deliver a message from God himself. What could go wrong? (Angels are all genderless according to official lore, both Lucifer and reader present with female anatomy).

Warnings: Sexual content (cunnilingus, fingering, the works), roughish, blood kink-adjacent sex

Word Count: 7.2k words (Oh my GOD I'm sorry).

It was a simple mission. That's what you'd been told. Michael was preoccupied, and to send such a small errand with Raphael, Aziraphale, or even Gabriel would be insulting. God had better uses for them. As a lowly Archangel, you were cut out for small errands. They weren't usually to Hell. Sure, you were protected, and had all the necessary authority to visit Hell without needing to call in, but still.

"Deliver a message to Lucifer Morningstar," Michael ordered. "It bears the official crucifix, if demons give you trouble, bare it and command them to obey in the name of the Almighty," he explained, glancing down, a bored expression on their face.

"Yes Michael, I understand," you sheepishly replied.

"One more thing, Y/N," Michael said, extending the scroll outward. "This is your first time interacting with the Prince of Lies, correct?"

You nodded, taking the scroll from Michael, tucking it inside your robes for safekeeping.

"In that case, always remember, Lucifer Morningstar was the best of us before the fall," Michael solemnly declared, "They are still the most beautiful and charismatic angel to exist. Listen not to their lies,"

"I understand, thank you Michael,"

They smiled in response, patting you on the back. As the gates of heaven open, multitudes of angels pour out, flying every which way. Michael gestures for you to follow them, and you both take to the air, flying away from the horde of angels sent down to Earth. Taking his mighty sword, Michael cuts a portal through empty space, motioning you forward. Clutching at the rosary around your wrist, you dive headfirst into the flaming pit below you.

<-*~~~~~~~~~~~~~*->

Your feet hit the stone floor with a jolt. Distant screams and wails fill the air, the acrid smell of sulfur causing you to wrinkle your nose. The devastation of Hell is truly complete, after all, the malevolence of the Almighty knows no bounds. A demon shrieks as you make your presence known, skittering around a corner before you can even make your visit known. Silence enters the chambers, and you slowly pace around the strange coliseum-like structure. Pits of fire surround you, dancing vengefully. Turning your eyes upward, you utter a short prayer to the Almighty, requesting strength. This is the only connection you have with him, he cannot see you here, only direct messages can be sent.

Giant columns bear the weight of this strange place, irreverent carvings dotting the surfaces randomly. It's grotesque, and feels incomplete in a way that irks you. Taking in every detail of your surroundings, you're slow to recognize the hulking figure mere steps from you.

"My, my," they whispered, "You must be... An angel," They smirk.

The most beautiful divinity you've laid eyes upon regards you with utter amusement, vibrant red robes glittering in the faint light. Golden-white curls decorate their head, and the serenest blue eyes you've ever seen flicker over your features with playful interest.

"Lucifer Morningstar," you gasped, flexing your wings in surprise. "I didn't think it would be this easy to reach you,"

This comment seemed to amuse them more, and they chuckled, gliding over to a basin of fire. You watch as they slowly reach in, fingers fluttering ever so slightly before scooping out a handful of vibrant vermillion and coral flames.

"Who else but me would greet a rogue angel?" they chuckle, watching the flames glide over their fingers.

"I assure you, I come on official business," you promised. "I act as a messenger on behalf of the Almighty,"

This peaks their interest, their wings flexing ever so slightly. Dropping the fire back into the basic, they take a few steps forward, large frame bearing over you ever so slightly.

"And what kind of irrelevant message could this be?" Lucifer sneered.

The situation was a bit comical. A lowly Archangel cast off on a mission to relay the ruler of Hell a lazy rebuke, Heaven's equivalent of a slap on the wrist. From Lucifer's point of view, this could only be seen as insulting.

"Morningstar, I apologize for the unintentional injury my presence has caused. Aziraphale, Raphael, Gabriel and Michael were all preoccupied," you assured.

Lucifer chuckled, gazing down at you with a patronizing smile.

"No, don't apologize. I am charmed that heaven has sent you to bear this urgent message,"

You're taken aback by Lucifer's charm. Their comments are meant to be insulting, yet they carry an elegance to them. Lucifer watches you intently, reveling in how small you seem beneath them. You're oh so timid and shy, a nameless Archangel sent on a meaningless mission. It's cute how accommodating you are, how nervous they make you.

Shaking your head, you flutter your wings, attempting to regain whatever miniscule leverage you have.

"It appears you've angered the Almighty with your exchange with the Endless. I have been sent here to remind you that there are certain rules regarding exchanges between them, and that under no circumstances are they to be taken as trophies,"

Lucifer groaned aloud. "Please, these are just rules. The Endless are divine powers, they come and go as they please, and make decisions as their free-will permits,"

"I assure you that these rules exist to ensure balance. You cannot do whatever you desire without consequences,"

Lucifer laughs at this, turning toward you with a look of utter disbelief on their face.

"Oh, sweet one, aren't you tired of all these rules," they purred, reaching forward to gently caress your wings.

Shuddering ever so slightly, you jerk away from their grasp. Your cheeks flushed, heat tingling from the edges of your feathers to your shoulders. Touching wings was a gesture made by only the closest companions, thus cheeky gestures such the Morningstar's were considered taboo. Sensitivity and honor played a role in this custom, the former more pertinent in high society. It seemed only necessary that the prince of demons would be so callous with gestures such as this, making your mission all the more difficult.

"Perhaps you've forgotten decorum between angels, but I certainly have not," you spat, flexing your wings with vicious intent.

"Oh, how easily you heavenly messengers are to anger," they insipidly grinned.

Turning their fingers ever so slightly, a robust gold ring flickered delicately in the dim light. Chasing your gaze upward, Lucifer regarded you with a bemused expression, silently begging you to take the bait. Your nostrils flared ever so slightly as you breathed in deeply, gently moving to take a rosary bead between your fingers. Lucifer glanced down at your wrist where you had woven the object on to your body, and you watched with unguarded glee as their features twisted into a macabre look of disgust.

"It is not my place to engage in such childish games with you, Lucifer Morningstar," you preened, "I simply bear a formal censure from the Almighty. You may choose to read it yourself, or I can read it for you,"

You reached inside your robes to remove the scroll, the threadbare cloth soft from years of use. Heaven had no need of trivial things such as luxury. Heaven was the highest honor, thus even the merest of rags would glorify God. It was this state of self-righteous thought led to the consequence of indifference. A rough grasp on your palm broke you from your thoughts as harsh winter winds break through the mildness of fall. Eyes so blue, so deep that they could be compared to the serenest of water bored into yours with such wrath that could only belong to God's most scorned child.

"Bear that spiteful scroll in my presence and I will send it back to God with your wings as postage!" Morningstar snarled.

"Unhand me, fiendish vermin!" you insulted, "In the name of Almighty God you will release me!"

"Oh you poor foolish child," they growled, "You are in my realm, he has no authority here, and neither do you!"

Both you and Lucifer fought for purchase, their grip on your wrist made dually claustrophobic by the vice grip they held on the crux between your neck and shoulder. Instinct instructed you to drop the scroll, to break free from their grasp and fly to heaven. Your message would be delivered, yes, and you would be safe. Tossing the scroll as far from you as possible, Lucifer was momentarily distracted, thus giving you a window by which to escape. Shrugging away their arms was the final step to freedom, feet sturdy on the ground and wings flared, you took a step, grinding the soles of your feet into the slippery ground, you slipped. The sandals upon your feet, threadbare and devoid of traction slipped upon the lip of stone, and you slipped.

Time grew slower, arms braced parallel to the floor, to catch the weight of your body and your hulking wings. Freedom was certainly lost now, injury closing upon your tail like a wolf pack upon a doe. Wind rustled through your robes, bare skin exposed to the air currents; a product of your scuffle with the devil. Your eyes closed as the ground grew closer, that was until two arms encircled your waist.

"Ahh!" you gasped.

Red velvet-encased arms held you close to Lucifer's chest, your wings pinned outward. You were relieved, yes. But this was the devil you were dealing with.

"My, my, clumsy and naïve," they tutted, breath tickling the shell of your ear, "What an unfortunately appetizing combination,"

Your heart raced in your chest, blood flushing your cheeks, dizziness and nausea weakening your already vulnerable state. Your robes sagged open, bearing clammy skin to the cold air, and to Lucifer's vulturous gaze.

"Out of one-liners?"

"Out of breath," you replied, reaching upward to close your robes.

"No, no, keep them like that," Morningstar whispered, swatting away your hands. "I like the view,"

An obscene amount of cleavage was exposed, an expanse of skin from your collarbones to your sternum barely covered by the thin layers of your clothing. Whether it was their probing stares or their flirtatious regard of your disenfranchised state was irrelevant, the rapid beating of your chest made known your nervous state all too well.

"Come, sit with me," they inclined, "I am capable of civility,"

It wasn't an invitation as their tone suggested, rather an introduction of their intended course. With as much grace as one could muster given the partnership of a flustered, clumsy and hopelessly confused angel, Lucifer pulled you away into a deeper corridor, away from the green marble pillars and strange pictures. No faces greeted you down this strange passageway, no sound reached you. It was eerie how empty this grand structure was.

"Stop will you," Lucifer groaned, holding you still upon a landing. "You are impossible to lead, I'd have greater success with a three-legged lamb,"

"It would help if I knew where I was going," you glowered.

They scoffed, disregarding your pleas. Obstinate and self-assured, this was the devil’s main flaw. But you had flaws too now you realized. Greed perhaps? No. Not yet at least, you had nothing that you simply could not get enough of, perhaps you were greedy for air? But I suppose if you needed it, like needed it every moment of every day, it would not be greed? Maybe you were selfish. But how could you be selfish? You did not want, aside from the wants granted from above. Perhaps you were too meek, although the Lord said that the kingdom of heaven would be theirs.

“Quite a lot of thoughts in that big head, I wouldn’t want you to get too focused and misplace your step,”

Shaking your head in annoyance, you disregard Lucifer’s warning. Your thoughts were your own. They should mind theirs.

“How can your thoughts be your own if everything is dictated to you,” Morningstar pressed.

“If you would mind your tongue,” you seethed.

“Oh alright then, if you’re so inclined to your thoughts allow me to stay in them,” Lucifer’s voice rippled through your head.

The jolt of their voice in your head did more than catch you off guard, you found your step slipping, flimsy sandals sliding over the damp steps. With little more than a sigh, the prince of free will reached around to grab you by your waist, once again suspending you mid air.

“What did I just say?” Lucifer mocked, overly dramatic as they pulled you up, lips pursed for dramatic effect.

“What the fuck are we talking for?” you growled.

“Oh?” Lucifer smirked.

“I have no time to talk, I was supposed to return to my post by now, and I don’t have room for your games. Make your point, seated or otherwise,”

Lucifer’s expression hardened, abruptly dragging you toward and open room. The room itself was a lounge, a precipice-like opening above the fires of hell. With a flick of their wrist all doors and windows clanged shut, sealing you in a room with the Morningstar.

“Be seated,” they sighed, gesturing to a point on a couch.

You hesitantly obeyed, sinking into the softest surface you’d ever touched. It felt sinfully good, you thought, smirking to yourself. Maybe relaying messages to Morningstar didn’t need to feel so heavy.

“That’s right, relax yourself,” they purred, looking down at you bemused.

“Well, what did you want to talk about?” you half-heartedly pressed.

“I didn’t come here to talk, did you?” Lucifer crooned.

“Well, how else would you convince me to abandon my heavenly post and join your ghastly forces?”

Lucifer rolled their eyes. Inching over you ever slowly until at last, at long last, you could see just how deep those blue eyes were. All the rage, all the anger one could ever imagine welled up in those deep hues of blue and grey, irises dilating until all light from their eyes seemed to fade. How could their gaze be so hateful, were you that vile?

“Yes,” they sneered, lunging toward you viscerally.

The force they used to grasp at you sent the couch hurtling backward, leaving your skull to collide with the stone ground. Pain bloomed in the back of your head, and you gasped in agony. Pain met pain as Lucifer, commander of the legions of hell, sunk their teeth into the crook of your neck.

“Oh God,” you gasped.

“He’s not here,” they glared, lips lightly glistening with your blood.

“Why are you doing this?” you gasped.

“Because I know you, I’ve been in your head, I know how you lose yourself in my eyes, and I know just how flustered you’ll get when I do this,” they snarled, their fingers burying themselves into the flesh of your trapezius, knotted from the constant strain of your wings upon the muscles.

“Please!” you moaned, wings twitching uncontrollably. “I thought you were going to convince me to be here, this doesn’t feel-“

A long stripe up your neck silenced all that was left of your plea. It felt cool, luxurious and soothing. Fingers ran up your neck, burying into your hair, gently massaging the place where you’d hit your head. Pain bloomed into pleasure, and the rage-filled gaze of your captor turned bemusedly wanting.

“The head injury is atonement for the head ache your sudden appearance has given me,” they smirked, “The abuse of your back for the knife heaven has sent you to stab in mine, and the bite,” they chuckled, “Well the bite is just for fun,”

Morningstar glowed above you, light from the ornate chandelier creating a halo of soft light around their angelic features. They really were the most beautiful angel ever created.

“Yes little angel, look all you want,”

Gently, ever so languidly, Lucifer moved your robes to the side, baring your breasts to the chill of the room. Their gaze glides over the peaks and valleys of your form, smiling in delight as you blush.

“Tempting, so tempting,” they whisper, dragging a finger down your sternum.

Your breathing grows ragged, a desire you’ve never felt blooming in your lower abdomen. Instinct calls, and you flex your thighs, shifting your position, trying to find release from the uncomfortable clenching in your cunt.

“Poor little angel,” Lucifer drawls, running fingers through your tangled hair. “How desperately you want,”

It’s meant to be condescending, this statement. It’s not your fault, you think. Your innocence, the lack of experience, it’s not your burden to bear. If you’d been given the opportunity, if you’d ever had the chance to engage in, to learn this strange dance of limbs and ragged, animalistic desire, well, you would have.

Lucifer rolls their eyes at your inner monologue. It’s rather cute, how you justify your naïveté. But it’s boring, a waste of thought. Thought is the killer of want, to think long enough is to ruin any chance of acting instinctually, to chain the animalistic mind, ruining any chance of sin. Lucifer doesn’t much care for the act of sex, it’s carnal, sometimes entertaining, but this, getting an angel to sin? Oh my. What a lovely thought.

“Stop thinking little angel, stop worrying,” they whisper, pressing the softest of kisses on your ear. “The body knows, the mind doubts,”

Their words, the breath on your ear, it’s all too stimulating. You reach around their shoulders, pulling yourself into the warmth of their body. Your head aches from the trauma of the stone, and little prickles of pain bloom in your neck. You want comfort now, you want patient pleasure.

“Good,” Lucifer croons, pulling you upward, carrying you like a child.

They smell spicy, like a blend of pepper and cardamom, maybe even frankincense. Their robes stink of sulfur, but their skin smells of incense, perfumed oils and smoke. You pull away the awful smelling robes from their neck, burying your nose in the smell of their skin. Never before have you wished for fresh air, for the rustle of wind on your wings, the cool of a mountain breeze.

Yes. A voice whispers. This is what you must cling to, this is what you must remember.

Lucifer hisses, a sharp rebuttal, laced with mirth. You’re thrown, landing on a bed of satin and silk, but the sudden motion causes you to shriek, and you land at an odd angle, your wing’s twisting painfully. If Morningstar had been furious before, they were murderous now.

“I told you,” they shout, “Not to think!”

You shuffle away from them, backing yourself into the headboard, away from the rage of the demon in front of you.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean to?” Lucifer mocks. “I don’t care what you meant to do, you will not think, you will not ponder, you will only feel,”

Lucifer smiles down at you, canines bared in a saccharine smile. They flare their wings, dark onyx against the flickering red and yellow light. The anger, the flat out hatred, it’s gone. Golden curls illuminated by candlelight, soft pale skin defined by shadow, silky robes in luxurious tones, it’s all sensuality and elegance.

“Beautiful, sweet angel,” they lull, “Come here,”

Soft fingertips trace over your lips, your chin, your cheek. Gentleness and warmth dips into the contours of your skin. Comforting, merciful touches. The likes of which you have never felt.

“Yes, that’s right,” Lucifer praises, “Just feel,”

Their hands slide lower, running over your shoulders, your collarbones, the raw skin where they bit you. They grow closer, breath tickling the tiny hairs on your face. Lucifer’s lips wet with spit, eyes dilated in the low light. You desperately want to run your hands through their hair, to muss up their curls, ruin the delicate spirals. Their lips on your neck, on your cheeks, on your own.

I want, I want, I want, I want.

"Yes, good little angel," they whisper, "What pretty little feelings those are,"

"Can I?" you whisper. "Can I have these things?"

"Yes, yes you may," Lucifer smirks.

Wrapping yourself in their embrace, your robes sliding down your shoulders, baring your chest to them, your stomach, the top of your mons pubis, all of these things lay bare, vulnerability in it's most simple form.

"Beautiful, uncorrupted angel," Lucifer groans, "Bare yourself onto me, let me see you as the Father has made you,"

They pull your robe down, fully baring you to the candlelight. You shiver, the air here is stagnant, but devoid of heat. It's that of a cave, murky and claustrophobic. You're desperate for air, you feel like you might faint, you feel dizzy, like you might faint, like you might-

"-Shh, feel me, don't feel fear," they direct, pulling your naked form into their skin, toward the smell of incense and perfumed lotion.

You inhale, pulling down the red silk that smells of misery and rotten things, down off their shoulders, down their arms, down to sit on the bed, down onto the floor. I want, I want, I want.

"Yes," they smirk, "Want," they echo.

A burning ache fills your lower abdomen, an uncomfortable pulsing that only seems to worsen to pulse and clench, and you ache to be rid of it. Lucifer smiles, a knowing, pitying smile. Their skin glows in the dim room, and you try not to blush at the sight of their bare skin. You fail, and your embarrassment becomes funny to them.

“Sweet little baby, so young, so naive, how desperately would you like to be with me?” Lucifer preens, your lips inches apart.

“I-,” you stutter, almost ready to commit to them, to sin against God, to deny your creator, but then you want. Not for their touch, but for the sun on your face, and you shut your eyes tightly, breath growing heavy.

I can’t lose this bet, I can’t want too much. I can’t lose, can’t lose, can’t lose.

“Shh,” they whisper, gently pressing their lips against yours.

Fire blooms in your abdomen, hot aching fire, and it burns and flares and pulses at a rate that feels sinful. Their lips mound against yours, and you bury your hands in their curls, feeling the soft hairs between your fingers. Lucifer gasps in your mouth, letting out a low groan, smirking between passionate kisses.

Their hands snake down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You continue to kiss them, to inhale the soft gasps as you tease them with your caresses. Lucifer continues to lightly hum into your mouth, running their hands up and down your body, pinching slightly, running their short nails up and down your back.

“Please,” you whisper, “You must try harder than that,”

A low chuckle bounces off the walls, and you look into their eyes once more, to find them filled with mirth.

“I’m not trying,” they smirk.

Lucifer’s hands swiftly move from your lower back to your butt, firmly grasping the soft flesh. They pull you up and toward them, pulling you into them, breasts pressed up against theirs. You can feel the soft pebbles of their nipples rubbing against yours, the softness of their stomach, the hairs of their pubis tickling your thighs. But most importantly, they can feel you, the heat that comes off your skin, the softness of your thighs, the slight sweat that coats your body.

Morningstar presses a few kisses to your neck and shoulders, one hand tracing back up to your upper back, the other still massaging and pulling the flesh of your buttocks and inner thigh. It’s odd how close they feel. Their breath seems to come on all sides of you, the pull of their chest, the softness of their gentle hums of approval in their ear, it all contradicts the needy grip they have on your body, the way they pinch, and pull and suck.

Lucifer had moved to kiss and abuse the flesh of your shoulder, running their tongue up the soft welts left by their earlier bites. A hand continues to sneak up your back, and you gasp softly as it caresses the soft span of your wings. Their touch is featherlight at first, gently rubbing and feeling the tips of your wings.

“So soft,” they whisper. “Oh?” they smirk, an eyebrow quirking.

You feel then finger a particularly sore feather, encased in keratin, you’d had trouble removing the casing and you’d given up.

“I can help with that,”

Lucifer gently pinches away the casing, gently smoothing the feather. It feels heavenly, the itching sensation finally falling away.

“Thank you,” you whisper, letting your head fall onto their shoulder.

“Anything for you, little angel,” they smirk.

“Let me return the favor,” you ask, gently rubbing the crook of their wings.

Lucifer lets out a loud gasp, groaning at the gentle sensation of your hands on their wings. They hang their head, leaning backward, exposing their breasts. You continue to massage the sensitive muscles of their wings, sore from the sheer mass of skin and bone. The sight of their nipples is arousing, how they peak and stand fully erect.

“May I?” you ask.

“Please,” they groan, twitching and grinding their pelvis into the expanse of your lower stomach.

The approval is all you need, and you begin to slowly kiss a path up their sternum, pressing light kisses to the underside of their breasts. Lucifer shifts their hips, attempting to grind themselves against the soft expanse of your thighs. They grunt and groan softly, digging their fingers into the soft flesh of your shoulders, causing you to gasp and wince.

“More,” they beg, “Give me more,”

Their cunt makes contact with your thigh, silky wetness sliding against your thigh. They gasp and moan, pulling your face closer toward their nipple. Taking the cue, you gently kiss up from the bottom of their breast, open-mouthed, finally circling their sensitive nipples with your wet tongue.

“Please,” they drawl, grinding themselves against your thigh.

Experimentally clenching your thigh, you watch as Lucifer continues to quiver and twitch, their wings fluttering erratically. The continuous massaging of their wings seems to bring them closer to agony, but regardless of your fear that you are hurting them, they continue to grind and gasp and plead for your clenched thigh, your exploration of their wings, the assault of your mouth on the chest.

“Oh little angel,” they sigh, leaning into your continued ministrations of your mouth, the way you circle their nipple. “You are too sweet, hurt me a little,”

You look up at them in shock. Hurt them? Wasn’t that the opposite of what they wanted.

“Bite me a little, pinch me, be greedy,” they smirk.

The dance of limbs begins once more, but you’re cautious. Lucifer gently croons above you, looking at you with curiosity.

“Just try it, please little angel, just try,” they whisper, pushing your mouth into their breast insistently.

Lucifer gently pushes themselves into you, and you clench your thigh, gasping in surprise when they twitch and moan in response.

“Good, good little angel,” they praise, running their hands up and down your back, kissing the top for your head between the motions of their hips.

Their reaction emboldens you, probes curiously at the clenching sensation in your cunt, making it worse. The small twitches of their wings grow softer, as if they’re becoming accustomed to the light touches. Gently, ever so gently, you apply more pressure to the crux of their wings, rubbing the tips of your nails against the soft leathery flesh of their wings. Morningstar gasps in shock, grinding against your thigh with increased desperation.

“Yes, yes, more,” they gasp.

The caresses of your nails turn to intense grasping, pinching lightly at the skin, squeezing the joints of cartilage and skin. Lucifer rolls their head, emphatically moaning and sighing. Their skin is flush with sweat, pink and covered in goose flesh. They let their head hang, using your body for support, intermittently gasping and groaning. Morningstar’s hair is a tangled mess of blonde frizz, the perfect curls that halo their head are soaked with sweat, the product of your unnatural coupling.

"More," they growl, shoving your face into their breast.

Perhaps they want you to go faster? The gentle caresses of your tongue turn into soft suckles, and to your surprise Lucifer exerts more pressure on your scalp. You cry out in pain, trying to pull away from the pinpricking sensation of their tugs on your scalp. It hurts, it stings, and you try to twist away, making it worse.

"Just bite me, for God's sake," they mock.

You dig your fingernails into the skin of their back, clenching your thighs in pain. They groan and gasp, taking shaky breaths. Clenching your jaw ever so slightly, you take the tip of their nipple in your mouth, gentle running your teeth over it.

"Ohhh," they groan, writhing and whimpering in your grasp.

The sensations seem to be painful, and you would stop, if not for the hunger that boils in your lower abdomen, that clenching sensation that flares up every time they make a certain low hum in their throat, when they twitch just right, when their knee barely brushes the tender area of your inner thigh. Lucifer looks glorious above you, and the more you rock into their motions, the slower and more intense the grasps on their leathery wings, the harder you bite and suck at their breasts, oh, how beautiful they look.

"Oh, angel, sweet perfect angel," they keen, erratically thrusting themselves into you, into your mouth and the motions of your hands. "You've done a wonderful, a perfect- Oh!"

Lucifer's compliments are cut off by a strange surge of shaking, gasping and moaning, and you watch wide-eyed as they throw their head back, wailing at the ceiling in agony-filled bliss. Eventually the subtle rocking motion of their hips still, and they go limp in your arms. The great Lucifer Morningstar, God's most perfect angel, limp in your arms, panting heavily, slick with sweat, and, other things.

"Did that hurt?" you whisper, confused by the whole ordeal.

"In only the best ways," Morningstar replies, looking down at you with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes. "Would you like to experience it?"

Lucifer seems genuine, caressing your face softly, and for a moment you feel wanted. You'd never been allowed to want, or to be wanted by someone else. As a vessel of God, of the Holy Trinity, it was your duty to serve, to never be served, but in this moment, you could be wanted, you could experience the feeling of being desired so explicitly. Would it be worth giving your soul up?

"It is," Lucifer smiles. "It is worth that and much more,"

There isn't a hint of treachery in their eyes, just the usual twinkle of mirth. Perhaps you want to believe them, perhaps that's why you kiss them so desperately.

Lucifer tastes like red wine and brimstone; it's like licking wine off of a stone wall. You like it, that much is clear. They just indulge you, messily biting and licking your lips, your tongue, running theirs on your teeth. Making out has never been clean, at least not when you're this desperate, this wanting.

"Pretty angel, so pretty," they croon, running their hands up and down your back.

"It won't hurt, you promise?" you ask, a little shaken by the ordeal Lucifer themself had experienced.

They chuckle, a soft, pitying chuckle, as if you've missed something clearly critical to the entire deal.

"It must hurt, otherwise it is simply no fun," they giggle, gently bringing you in for another kiss.

Their hands slide over your body, running over the ridges of your spine, the soft curves of your stomach, your thighs. Hunger pools in your body, and you cling desperately to them, seeking release from this terrible want that continues to build inside of you.

"You poor, suffering creature," they smirk. "Do you want me to make it better?"

"Yes, please," you gasp, barely thinking about your answer.

Lucifer laughs wickedly, pushing your shoulders into the bed, leaning over you with barely concealed lust. Their eyes seem to burn with animalistic hunger, and you wonder if it hurts to want that much. Lucifer doesn't respond to this thought, rather out of character to their previous actions. The stream of thoughts is quickly driven out of your mind when they press a series of hungry kisses to your neck, suckling and biting with merciless intensity.

"You taste like virtue," they groan. "It's so refreshing, I wish I could bottle it," they confess between kisses.

Their hot breath on your neck feels like fire on top of a violent sunburn, it just builds in intensity with prolonged exposure. Morningstar grasps your hips, squeezing and massaging the tender flesh, as if toying with clay. It's near painful, it'll leave bruises, that much is certain.

"I'm supposed to like this?" you wonder aloud.

"Not necessarily, but you'll like this,"

Lucifer drops their mouth to your breast, licking and suckling slowly at a nipple, and you watch as they take the soft bud in between their lips, making direct eye contact with you as they do so. The sensation of their mouth on your breast feels like agony, and you clench and squirm underneath their grip, the teasing pulses of that odd place intensifying astronomically. It causes you to gasp and groan erratically, as if experiencing some kind of forbidden torment, the worst kind. Lucifer moans in response to a particularly vocal keen, rewarding you with a soft bite to your nipple. The sensation is overwhelming, you jerk your hips upward, seeking relief from the hotness that extends from your cunt.

Lucifer firmly pins your hips down, humming softly as you continue to wriggle and gasp underneath them. Regardless of how desperately you desire them, how awfully the sensation burns, Lucifer does not quicken their pace, riling you up further, as if to prove how awful this sensation of wanting can be. Regardless of your silent and occasionally verbal pleas, the lord of evil continues to smirk as they toy with your breasts, biting lightly at the underside, as if to say "Mine", and in a way, they are claiming you.

"That feels, good," you admit, running your hands through Lucifer's messy golden hair. You hope it's what they want to hear, what will convince them to hurry the process.

They hum in response dropping a few kisses in between your sternum. Their movements are slower now, methodical. They follow the slope of your stomach, gingerly kissing the soft indents of your ribs, the softness of your stomach, reveling in the pureness of your form. It's not enough, and the pulsing sensation that grows in your cunt feels terribly strong now, and you whimper wantonly as their mouth grows closer.

"Oh, so needy," they sneer. "How lovely,"

Lucifer gently pries your thighs opening, groaning lightly at the sight of your wet cunt, the proof of their persuasiveness. It's odd how they look at it, you don't see anything particularly intriguing with the unused organ, rather all of your torment seems to be linked to the spot, and you desperately wish it to end. Morningstar gently leans towards the mound of flesh and hair, blowing lightly, directly on your clit. The sensation is torturous, and you twitch and shake despairingly at the awfulness of the assault. They laugh in response, keeping your thighs spread, letting your most intimate areas remain open for the world to see.

"Please, please, I need it," you beg, unsure of what you desire so desperately.

"You do? How unfortunate," they drawl, blowing cool air on that sensitive bud once more.

You arch your back, digging your hands into the sheets. A hand comes from your hips to your stomach, shoving you back into the bed. The point is clear: Stay put.

Hands gently squeeze and caress your thighs and ass, a hot mouth suckling and biting at your inner thighs. You glance down to see the golden haired deity paying homage to the cradle of your sex, smirking in a most peculiar way as they get closer and closer to where you so desperately need them.

“If I gave in right away, it wouldn’t be as good,” Lucifer explains. “The more I rile you up, the better this will all be,”

Their explanation is perfectly efficient, but you find no comfort in you. The closer their mouth gets to your core, the closer their hot tongue inches toward that aching, needy place between your thighs, the worse it gets for you.

“Please,” you beg uselessly. “I want to feel what it’s like,”

Morningstar hums in response, rolling their eyes at you. By now their command is clear, you will be patient and you will be complicit to their pace. When their mouth finally rests atop your mind pubis, a trickle of wetness has run a path down from your opening to the lowest crevices of your genitals, and you feel your cunt pulse erratically.

“What a pretty little sight,” Lucifer sighs contentedly.

Making sinful eye-contact with you, they extend their tongue, running a strip up from your entrance to your clitoris, and the feeling is so hot, so consuming that you shriek in relief. Lucifer continues this motion a few more times, each stroke slower than the first.

“Please, please,” you beg, “I want it,”

“You want what?” they croon.

To put it into words feels too lecherous, and you plead with them through your eyes, imploring them to understand your desperation.

“I don’t know what you want until you tell me,” they smirk, playing dumb.

Taking a few shaky breaths, you open your mouth, visualizing the actions you wish them to take.

“I want your tongue,” you whisper.

“Where? How? In what ways?” Lucifer murmurs, resting their head on your thigh, toying with the tiny hairs there.

“I want it on my, my clitoris,” you blush, “I want it in a steady rhythm, but other than that I don’t know what will….” you trail off.

In truth you don’t know what will feel good, you haven’t experimented, not even a little bit.

“Oh little angel,” they purr, “If you want me to just take the lead all you had to do was ask,” they sigh, returning their mouth to your clit.

The pace they set is torturous, tongue drawing acutely decisive patterns over the tiny nub, causing all kinds of pleasurable sensations to erupt from your body. You feel a continuous clenching and releasing sensation in your lower abdomen, in your core, and it continues to build and broil, sustained by the soft hums and groans of Lucifer’s mouth into your clit.

“Oh my God,” you wail, the prayer decidedly unheard in this domain.

Lucifer detaches themselves from their clit, biting your inner thigh forcefully. The shock of the sudden movement causes you to squeal in pain, and you try to twist away from their movements.

“Never, ever, speak his name here,” Lucifer rasps, “You will only praise me, you will only beg me,”

Two fingers enter you forcefully, tearing the soft tissue of your hymen, effectively severing your virginal state. The action delivers two kinds of pain. The first is a searing agony that bleeds through your labia, hot and throbbing. The other torture stems in your soul, a certain blackness marring your sinless state.

“No!” you cry out.

You would be changed now, forever marked by the devil. It would not be noticed, not be detected by the other angels, but the Almighty? He would know.

The circumstances of your changed state and the pressing weight of pending damnation weigh on you, nearly swallowing you in fear and pain, but that pain is erased when a pair of hot, wet lips descend on your core.

The feeling is blissful in comparison to the sting of your labia, and you quickly descend into the feeling of pleasure once more, but a stone weighs on your chest, and in between your gasps and moans, a few tears fall from your cheeks.

“There, there,” Lucifer soothes between their movements, “It won’t be so bad, I promise you’ll like this,”

The two fingers that lie in your entrance slowly pump in and out, and the sensation stings and burns a little in contrast to the raging coil that contracts and releases in your lower abdomen. In between strokes, Lucifer gently croons and hums into your clit, freehand drawing circles on your hip.

Their fingers hit a particularly sweet spot in your core, and you buck into their face, gasping and groaning as that coil unexpectedly tightens, pulsing and growing like waves of an incoming tide. Between your fevered breaths and moans of bittersweet pleasure, Lucifer continues to burn holes into your body with their gaze, forcing you to acknowledge them and what they are doing to you.

“Lucifer,” you gasp, “This feels so good,”

They smirk into you, curving their fingers in and out of you in a strange fashion that pulls you closer to heaven; the heaven of the flesh. The coil in your abdomen, the tower of arousal and bliss topples over, and you feel waves of bliss hit you as you climax.

“Good angel, good job,” Lucifer preens, holding you in their arms as you descend from your high.

Their touch is almost comforting, the soft kisses on your collarbones and neck are almost affectionate.

“That wasn’t a fair bet,” you whimper, beginning to cry. “You took my virginity, I’m blemished in the eyes of the Lord,”

“No, no, no,” Lucifer chuckles. “You asked me to, you asked me to take control,”

You blink in confusion, running back the few exchanged words in the moments leading up to the tearing of your hymen, the penetration.

“I said I wanted your tongue, I didn’t say-”

“-You didn’t tell me no, you silence following my assertion to take the lead was your answer, and that answer was yes,” Lucifer wearily sighs.

It dawns on you, you’ve been damned, and as soon as you return to the Almighty it will become official. You are an angel only in title.

“I should have never come here,” you lament uselessly.

“Oh don’t play victim, you were following orders, and by disobeying then you would have been damned,” Lucifer wearily explains, rolling over to lay you in their chest.

You’re worthless now, you have no value, no prospects, absolutely nothing to look forward to. You’ll be doomed to walk the earth until you are summoned by God, and at that point you will be officially cast out from heaven, forced back into the arms of the person who had managed to woo you into defiance of the lord.

“I hate you,” you gasp.

Lucifer pauses, momentarily taken aback by the statement.

“Wrath?” they chuckle, “So soon too, oh my,” they sigh, toying with the rapidly darkening feathers of your wings.

“You are the second prettiest angel I’ve laid eyes upon,” they muse.

When you look up at them again, you don’t see a lie in their face, rather a simple contemplation of your positioning. Their face is soft and silky, skin smoother than that of a baby. Their lips are pursed in thought, begging to be kissed. You’re done asking for things from the devil, so when you kiss them, it’s not Lucifer who tastes of sin; it’s you.

A/N: Six weeks, a trip across an ocean to Uni and a dehabilitating sinus infection later…… I’m free to write my other fics!!!!!!

Tagging: @hecatescrystaldagger @the-fuck-do-i-know

[blingblong55]

Playing Pretend- König

Based on a request:

Hi i’m new to request but i want to request if you can do a reader x konig being parents for a day. They were assigned to do a silly task but it becomes a disaster. Thank you and i love your posts!! -🧸🎀

F!Reader, fluff,

A/N: I have no idea how to write a healthy family dynamic....sorry. Will be a quick one...

The past few months have been a blur since you entered KorTac. From solo missions to team missions to now this, playing pretend with your friend and teammate König. Connell, the name of the infant you and he had to take care of to pass as a family to gather intel. It was nerve-wracking, the infant cried and at times you and König planned on aborting the mission.

The first night was stressful, Connell slept through the night well, but you and König didn't know how to trust yourselves with the infant as it slept. König, slept 3 hours and you the other three. From almost midnight to 5 in the morning you both took turns sleeping. Three days into the mission to gather intel, you had created a schedule. From 11 at night to 2 in the morning he slept, from 2 to 5 am you slept, he'd give you more time to sleep and in the time he was awake he'd wake Connell up, make breakfast and then he would wake you up.

It was around 0530 when you woke up, Connell was running around, giggling as König chased him around the house you three pretend to have. "Dada! No!" Connell giggled as König finally caught him and started to tickle him. They were in the living room, trying to keep their laughter down because they thought you were asleep. Before the mission, Connell was told your names were Dada and Mummy. You two weren't too excited about this but whatever helped the mission. König stopped laughing once he saw you leaning on the doorway, It was rare to see your teammates especially him being so, domestic and father-like to the infant. You had seen him kill men in the field with such little effort.

2 months passed and you had gathered the intel necessary for the team. You three went back to base and said your goodbyes, König would be deployed to Asia, Connell would be sent to an orphanage in Ireland and you'd be stuck in base. When what was a dream ended, and you were all alone in your room at 3 a.m., you thought of the fun nights you had with König and Connell.

It was 1 a.m. when Connell woke you guys up. "Dada...I can't sleep.." his tiny voice and his tiny touches on König, woke him up. By then you two had gotten used to Connell and slept all through the night.

He and Connell were in the kitchen, drinking milk from the carton, König said something that made Connell giggle. "Oh dada, you are funny." Connell of the counter, looking up at the giant man. "Conny, you can't tell mummy about this okay?" Connell nods. It brings you warmth, a feeling of longing in your chest at this site. It was adorable how much König had bonded with the infant.

Four months later, König appears at your door, flowers in hand, "Liebling, I can't keep doing this, pretending you aren't who I want to be with." So he had been thinking of you, good to know. For days you two spent talking about the past four months, getting to know the other on more personal levels.

~6 Years later~

He was in the kitchen, with small giggles and light footsteps that ran from the heavier ones. You were in your shared bedroom, cat in arms as you stood up from the bed. As you approached, you saw the image you longed for years ago. Conny sitting on the countertop, König holding your newborn as he and Conny drank milk from the carton. He wanted you to rest, so he took the children out of the room so you could watch a show and relax.

"Mummy!" Conny smiles as he sees his mother. You and König wanted him to be a part of your family. You walked to Conny and kissed the top of his head. "Hey, I wanted you to rest." König's voice was soft. KorTac found Conny was still in the orphanage, they pulled some strings and hours later, he was brought in by Declan. You and he started a family by playing pretend, playing house...and now you get to have a life away from wars and guns.

You and him retired 1 year into having Connell as your child. He got a job as an instructor at the police academy, he became a housewife, and at times you too would give classes at the academy.

A/N: I literally have no clue if this makes sense...I might edit it later

[gatitties]

Can I request for a strawhat x Muslim female reader? Specifically Shia :)if you don’t know what it’s do some research! IT’s currently 4am idek what am I doing :,)

Have a nice day/night/afternoon! :D

─Strawhats x muslim!fem!reader

─Summary: some headcanons of the strawhats with you being a muslim, nothing more, nothing less

─Warnings: none

Oh, it's fine! I'm sorry if this was too general or if there are stereotypes, despite my search I still don't know much about the culture, I'm sorry for that 😓, if there's anything I need to correct or change, let me know!

─ Luffy probably doesn't fully understand your traditions, since this boy doesn't believe in anything other than giant flying spaghetti as his only god and only because it's food, but he has no problems, you're super cool, whether it's because of your powers, strength or personality! It's the only thing you need.

─ The rest simply don't care about your beliefs, if they are different or the same as theirs, it's fine for them, it's no problem.

─ Robin is surely the most interested in your traditions, holidays… she always listens to you so interested in the history of your religion that she makes you spend entire nights sharing curiosities and stories.

─ Nami will hit Zoro and Sanji because when they fight they are very loud and they usually do it at the least opportune moment, that is, when you want to do your prayers.

─ Sanji bought a book especially about typical food from your area so that you could taste the dishes that you liked the most, he will ask you for help to know if he is doing it right or if the flavor is right.

─ Zoro will probably ask you to teach him bad words in your language so he can cause some chaos when he gets lost on some random island.

─ On the other hand, Ussopp will ask you to teach him some of your native language just out of curiosity, plus this way you could have a method of communicating without others knowing what you are up to, although Robin will surely understand it since she asked you before.

─ Nami loves your hijab and she will leave you some money (interest-free) to buy more in different colors so you can change your style, she will also try to create different 'hairstyles' with the fabric.

─ Although it's usually Franky who changes your hairstyle, since he is used to doing it with his hair, it's an easy job for him, master any style you want, just tell him what you want and you will have a nice hairstyle made of soft fabric in question of minutes.

─ Chopper is more attentive to you during Ramadan because he thinks that you will faint from not eating anything during the day, poor Chopper does not know that you are completely used to it and it is something normal for you.

─ Long time without listening to typical melodies or songs from your house? No problem, sing or hum a couple of notes and Brook will be playing that same music for you, it'll just cost you a punch after he asks about your underwear, nothing out of the ordinary with this guy…

─ It may not be exactly the same as praying, but Jinbe will invite you to meditate with him, usually you do it after you finish your midday prayer to let your thoughts flow.

─ They try not to bother you during Āshūrā since according to what you told Robin about your history, for your people it was a day of mourning, a day to commemorate a painful death, so everything remained much calmer during that day.

─ If someone looks at you badly, whether because of your appearance or your beliefs, they will make others respect you by throwing punches if necessary.

[gogotti]

Bloodhound x reader nsfw, similar to the caustic fic w orgasm denial I LOVE YOUR WORK PLS

This took forever and I'm so sorry, but life hit me with the "let's change the subject" bat, and I lost interest in Apex for a hot ass minute. but anyways

BLOODHOUND/READER - NSFW

Warnings: none really but the fic includes NSFW, orgasm denial, gender-neutral reader, no mention of Bloodhound's genitals, (which is also what made this fic take so long cause it took me forever to realize I could just do that.)

You looked over at Bloodhound as you stepped outside, a mischievous grin coming to your face almost immediately. They had been training all day, which wasn't uncommon, and you coming out to join them wasn't unusual either. You enjoyed watching them practice. It allowed you to stare at their muscles, which gave you plenty of material for those long seasons they were away busy with the games. Normally, you would sit by and watch, but with how well they'd been doing in the games, you figured it was time for a well-deserved break. You sat on a stump nearby and watched as Hound released their last arrow from the Bocek, landing what you counted to be their 4th bullseye. You smiled and spoke up, watching that red tint from their eyes slowly fade as they registered your voice.

“You should teach me to be as well off with a bow as you are.”

They walked over, touching your forehead with their mask as a kiss, and grabbed another bow they had prepared and handed it to you. Their eyes squinted slightly, meaning they were smiling at you behind the mask. “I would be honored, Elska.”

You stood and walked with them to the small patch of off-colored grass and huffed at it. Hound noticed and spoke, “I will get to placing the stone on this spot soon enough. For now, we practice.” You laughed, “Don't you think you need a break? You stand in this spot so much that the grass isn't green anymore.” They shook their head, and you already knew what they were going to say, so you simply sighed, feigning defeat for your request.

They positioned themselves behind you and you pressed yourself as close to their chest as possible, hearing a sudden inhale from them in response. You knew that showing interest in their training and hobbies made them very happy, so you already had a bit of a headstart, but you had a trick up your sleeve and you couldn't help but smirk at the thought of their excitement when you showed it off.

Thankfully Hound didn't notice as they continued positioning you in proper archery form, answering each question you asked, even if some had self-explanatory answers. You made sure to drag on the explanation part so you could let your plan slowly unfold, and you acted innocent when they would stop explaining to take a breath because your subtle grinding against them was doing much more than you originally anticipated.

When they had finally explained everything they thought necessary, you were allowed to shoot your first arrow. You pretended to struggle a bit before releasing arrow after arrow, each landing smack-dab in the center. You turned, a giant smile on your face as you watched Hound’s eyes flick from you to the target and back. You knew they were feeling something now as they stuttered a bit before letting out a breathy, “Wow, Elska.”

They stood frozen in their spot as you approached them, letting the bow gently rest on the ground. You place your hands on their chest and smile at them, “So, I think we should take a break. I am exhausted after all that training.”

They didn't respond, instead, they let you guide them to the stump you were sitting on earlier and stood in front of you. You leaned up and kissed their mask once, then moved down to their neck, kissing and nipping at all of the skin there. You let your hand trail downward and into their pants, letting them grind down onto your palm and you smiled at the muffled huffs coming from their mask.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?

They let out a muffled, “Mhm”, and you smiled, leaning away from their neck to see their face for a moment. You were glad that you did because as soon as you made eye contact with them you watched their eyes roll to the back of their head and their body twitch toward you. You watched as they started to grind down harder, eventually grabbing onto you and pulling you closer.

They whined, “Please, Elska…”, and they looked at you desperately. You knew they were close, but you weren't ready for this to end yet, especially since it just started. You didn't realize how pent-up they had been, so your previous grinding had done much, much more than you had thought. You slowly began to pull your hand away as they got closer to cumming and they quickly caught on, grabbing your hand and holding it in their strong grip.

“Elska, I need this please.” They continued to grind down onto your hand, but you kept pulling away. You were worried that they were gonna cum before you had your fun, so you forcefully pulled your hand away, watching Hound go limp with defeat. Hound practically growled at the lack of contact and slowly turned it into a whine because of the denial. They looked up at you, and you knew they had tears in their eyes, so you kissed the top of their head.

“I wanna have fun too Houndy, but I promise you'll get to cum once I have. Okay?”

You smiled at them, and they couldn't do anything but mumble an “Okay..” and follow you into the cabin you shared.

[vii-is-free]

Odd Questions

Summary: Sequel to Chapter Seven. Late at night, Ominis and MC find Sebastian returning to the common room. Something is...off.

Who knew those pale blue eyes could burn with such a fury. Well…Sebastian knew, first of all.

"THAT was the book you were reading in the Restricted Section!?" Ominis shouted. "You're lucky I didn't realize that at the time, or so help me, Sebastian..."

"Ominis, enough." Leona groaned.

"The merpeople wouldn't have been able to find your body!"

Sebastian chuckled, and glanced at his friend. "Sorry. Ominis."

Tik…tik…tik…

Ominis laid in bed, wide awake, fingers interlaced and resting on his chest. His eyes were wide open staring at the ceiling right above him, though they betrayed their usefulness. It was no matter, as his other five senses were incredibly sharp, and he was as attuned to his environment as any of his dorm mates. Perhaps too much.

Tik…tik…tik…

Normally the ticking of the Slytherin Hall's grandfather clock served as a white noise, a necessary part of his goodnight rest. But tonight it was just a nuisance. 

Tik…tik…tik….

Each sound of the needle moving one second more was like a hammer slamming against his skull. Each strike caused his nerves to flare up, u leashing a scurry of thoughts, all reminding him of something he did not want to think about. 

Tik…tik…tik…

Ding!

It was one in the morning. And Sebastian was still not back. 

Ominis let out a soft sigh, reaching under the pillow for his wand. He stood up and quietly shuffled to his dresser as not to disturb his roommates. He set down the wand and quickly switched out of his nightclothes. When he finished tying his silk green tie, Ominis turned towards the sink, dipping his hand into the water and using his palm to brush back his hair. 

He wasn’t going to let anyone see him a mess, not even in the dead of night. Ominis had too much to prove.

After he dried his hands with the hanging towel on the side, he reached toward the dresser where he left his wand. On the way out, he grabbed his robe. 

——-

Ominis leaned against his usual resting spot, head against the window. He closed his eyes, letting the ambiance of the lake soothe him. It helped him forget, even for a moment, the reality of the situation. He didn’t have to think about his best friend’s seemingly unstoppable descent into madness. He could concern himself the swirling of small currents caused by a nearby school of fish. The intermittent force of water pressing against the glass as the giant squid swam by.

He chuckled to himself. No mermaids this time. 

Faint footsteps, too soft to be Sebastian’s, caught his attention, and he raised his head a bit. Ominis surmised one of the Slytherin girls was approaching him…not in the stomping manner that cued Imelda’s enterance, nor the sliding of soles across the carpet like Grace. Did he know…

Then it hit him, and he gave a chuckle.

A sleepless night, a moment of serendipity.

Ominis rested his head back against the glass as Leona approached him. He tried to keep the cheerful demeanor he held the first night they met. However, with each passing day, the burdensome hope that everything would be okay even without Anne, as well all those promises Sebastian threw at him like a heavy rope, were slipping form his fingers.

Just what the hell was Sebastian doing?

“Hello, Ominis," said Leona, "It's Leona, the new fifth year."

Ominis nodded. "Good evening or...night. Couldn't sleep either?"

'No," said Leona, "Too much on my mind."

"I'm sure..." he said, "Hogwarts is overwhelming enough, I cant imagine being thrown into this place as a fifth year."

Even without the stress of Sebastian's antics, year five was induated with the pressure of trials such as OWLs, Professor Sharps foul militance, and flying. Yes, flying. While he was exempt from actually mounting the broom, Madame Kogawa insisted that he show up to class and take the didatic exams. He frowned at the thought. Freaking moonmind.

“Is…everything alright?” Leona said, striking a daggar though the heart of his intrusive thoughts. He paused for a moment, then straightened his posture.

"Do you mind walking with me?" Ominis said, "I need to clear my head."

"Of course," Leona said, "Where should I…”

"To my right, if you don't mind."

Once he felt her presence near his right arm, Ominis took his wand and held it out before him. He slowly scanned the room, in case someone had a brilliant idea to move the furniture. Then, he began to walk, Leona keeping step next to him.

"This might be an odd question,” Leona asked, “but...is your wand sentient?"

"In a way," Ominis said, "But it doesn't perform spells for me, like some think. That is all my own doing. It only acts independently when my life is at stake.”

He must have been in a better mood than he realized, for any other student asking him such things would have been dismissed. But, for once, Ominis didn’t want to be alone in that moment. The stillness of the hall, other than the ticking clock, disturbed him. Plus, was nice to have someone other than Sebastian in his ear. He smiled. He didn’t mind the sound of her voice at all. “Any other odd questions? I'm welcome to answer them."

"Actually..." Leona looked up, racking her mind. So many questions. She stopped at the site of an apple floating in front of her. She looked at Ominis, who suddenly had one in his hand.

"Hungry?"

"Erm, yes actually." A smile caught her as she took the offering. After fighting for scraps in St. Agnes all her life, Leona would always be astounded by the sheer number of snacks laid about the castle. "You heard my stomach?"

"No, just mine," Ominis said cheekily, "You were saying?"

“Well…” Leona pondered for a moment when the serpents on the bannister caught her eye. "What is the significance of the snake imagery around us?" She then took a bite, waiting for his answer.

"Hm, well,” Ominis said, “I'm sure you noticed that each house has a kinship of sorts with a certain animal. In the case of ours,” Ominis took a bite of his apple, taking the opportunity to mull on his words. After finishing, he continued, “Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes. I suppose he forged a connection with them. Perhaps he had more snakes as friends than people.”

“Hm. I wonder what snakes talk about.” Leona said before taking another bite. 

"They’re terrible gossips." 

“Hmph?” Her mouth was still full. 

“I mean-that’s my...erm…assumption.” Ominis shoved the apple back in his mouth.

The sound of a loud sigh caught his ear. Ominis pointed his wand in that direction, surmising that a figure had just thrown themself onto one of the sofas near the fireplace. He paid little mind at first, assuming it was an exhausted senior. He had heard N.E.W.T.’s were especially frightful this year.

It was Leona's worried voice that startled him.

"Sebastian?" Leona said, "Are you alright?!"

Sebastian?!

They both hurried to the fireplace. Ominis could hear the deep exhales escaping Sebastian’s chest, and his brow furrowed. Was he crying? Was he upset about Anne? Or...

"Ugh" Leona said, disgusted, “Why are you covered in sweat?"

"Heh, sorry," Sebastian said, his voice shaky, "I thought I would try a hand at Imelda's trial at the arena, and failed miserably."

Ominis frowned. “I thought you were working on your mandrake parchment in the library."

"Ah well," Sebastian said, rather shortly, "I needed a break."

Ominis pointed his wand in Sebastian's face. "Are you lying to me?!”

"What--no!" Sebastian smacked his hand away. "Take a walk, Ominis!"

Ominis clenched his jaw, shoving his wand back in his pocket. He turned towards the fireplace as Sebastian rose to his feet and stormed off. "Why don’t you take a walk...to the showers! You're fouling up the common room!"

Sebastian muttered something as left. Ominis took his seat on the chair facing the fire, placing his head in his hands. He heard the other chair creak a bit as Leona sat down.

"That was..." Leona said, stunned, "Quite unlike him." Ominis let the silence settle in between them as he gathered his thoughts. Leona noticed. “Would you like to talk about it?” Ominis let a deep exhale.

"Sebastian’s not doing well,” Ominis said, “and he's geting worse at hiding it. His sister...is terribly ill. It's our first year at Hogwarts without her, and it’s been difficult, to say the least."

"He mentioned something about her," Leona said, "But I didn't press. That's awful."

Ominis nodded. "He's getting rather irritated with me, but I can't help it. I'm afraid that he’s...looking towards dark magic as a means to cure her."

“You mean...the type of magic they don't teach at Hogwarts?"

Ominis scoffed. Sebastian obviously introduced this to her. "There's a reason Hogwarts doesn't teach the dark arts.” He set his unfinished apple down at the side table. “That type of magic doesn't heal, or create. It only destroys. I've told him time and time again but..."

Ominis sighed again and shook his head before resting his forehead back in his hands.

"Forgive my ignorance," said Leona, "I don't have much experience with…any of this."

"Well, I do,” Ominis said with a stern voice, “And I can tell you this...” he looked back up, gaze directed towards her. “There are two types of wizards that are attracted to to the dark arts. Those who are weak…and those who are desperate."

Sebastian will do anything to find a cure for Anne. But at what cost? Ominis was terrified to find out.

"The weak and the desperate..." Leona echoed his words as she finished her apple.

Ominis picked his back up from the table and finished it quickly. As mich as Sebastian ruined his appetite, he hated wasting food. His mind began to spin as his mouth stayed full. He wanted to tell Leona not to misunderstand him. That Sebastian wasn't weak by any means. But he would do anything to heal Anne.

He was desperate.

Ominis was tired of defending him at this point. Especially if Sebastian was going to act like a petulant child. He stood up, tossing the apple dore into the fire, and made his decision. “But enough about him. It’s not worth ruminating over.”

He’s so tiresome.

"Hm," Leona said. "In that case…if that’s alright with you...I do have a few more odd questions."

Ominis didn’t expect his spirits to lift so fast, nor did he expect the smile on his face to return. He was grateful the impression outside the undercroft didn’t sour her towards him. He took her up on the offer as his appetite returned. “Still hungry?”

Leona stood up, and said with a smile of her own. “I am.”

“Come, I’ll show you how to sneak into the Hogwarts kitchens.”

[lynzishell]

I'm sorry I am late to the party- work has been crazy busy so I haven't been around that much. That's my excuse for being late to wish you a 🌟HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! I hope you had a lovely time!! I love reading about your sims and all the heart you put into your them. You shine through them, with your kindness, warmth, charm, and wit!

You deserve all good things! Wishing you another amazing orbit around the sun! I'm so glad we "met"! ❤️

Ahh no sorries necessary my beloved Igs!!!! Thank you so so much for the birthday wishes and your kind words 🥹💖 You never cease to brighten my day and make me smile and I am SOOOO grateful to have "met" you too!!! I cannot get enough of your characters and their stories! They always feel so deep and meaningful, and with a layer of humor that always has me giggling along the way. Sending giant hugs your way! I hope that you get a break from work and get the time/space to do something you enjoy because you deserve all the good things tooooo!!!! 💖💖💖

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: Didn't have time to re-read this chapter today, so sorry if it sucks. But Ada is in it, so that's a plus. Anyways, enjoy.

TW: violence, language, ummm typical Resident Evil stuff, ect. I didn't re-read so sorry. By this point, most of you should know I suck at TW's. My apologies.

September 29, 1998-

Chapter 9:

"That's what you're wearing under that coat? And I thought the shoes were bad." You said in disbelief.

She had taken her trench coat off to cover Leon with it. She was wearing a pretty red dress that clung to her figure with spaghetti straps holding it up. It was gorgeous. But so impractical that it confused you on how she was just walking around and killing zombies in that.

"What? Do I look bad?" She asked sarcastically.

"You know very well you don't look bad. I was just surprised. Aren't you uncomfortable?" You asked.

"Not really. It's hot down here. If anything, you should be uncomfortable." She motioned toward your hoodie.

She was right. It was weirdly hot down here. But you didn't want to take off your hoodie. Bloodstains be damned. This hoodie has been your protection against zombie bites. You really don't want to leave any flesh bare at the moment.

"Yeah, I am. Thanks for noticing. Can we go now?"

"Hang on, I have to call in and update H.Q." she told you. 

You waved her off and stood to the side, pretending not to hear the one sided conversation.

"I'm right outside of the facility, in pursuit of Annette …. If it's not on her. It must be in the NEST…. I have someone that can lead me to it." She briefly glanced at you, before looking away.

"Once it's in hand, I'll call for extraction." She finished, putting the radio away.

"Ready?" She asked. You glanced at Leon before nodding. "You can run, Annette. But you can't hide." She muttered.

"Alright. So doors a bust. But a vent leading toward the NEST is this way." You said, glancing at your map.

"After you." Ada said.

You both make it to the vent and you tilted your head in thought. How do you get past the giant fan?

"Any ideas on how to get in there?" You asked her.

"I may have one." Ada said as she grabbed a gadget from her purse thing wrapped around her left shoulder. Holster? It held her gun too.

She aimed and held the button, making the fan spin faster and faster, until it exploded and broke, giving us room to get through it. You gapped in disbelief. Who makes this stuff?

"Candy from a baby." Ada said smugly.

"Huh. I want one." You joked.

"In your dreams." She smirked, tucking it back in her holster and climbing up the ladder.

You climbed up after her and the two of you made your way through the long-winding tunnel.

"So, the plan is to get to Annette, see if she has the G-virus, and if she doesn't, go search the labs?" You asked.

Ada nodded. "She would have moved any virus sample left over the week. Which means it's best to get her to tell us directly so we wouldn't have to search the whole lab. But we will if necessary."

"Okay, but what is the FBI going to use the G-virus for?" 

"Evidence."

"Couldn't you just take pictures of the underground lab that we are currently standing in? Or take the files? Or look at the city above us and see all the zombies walking around? Is that not enough?" 

"It's more complicated than that." Ada snapped, done with that conversation.

The more you think about the things Ada had said, the more it doesn't make sense. Why would the FBI specifically need the G-virus? Why not any of the others? Plus, wouldn't the files laying around the entire lab be enough evidence to take down Umbrella? The emails exchanged between employees? Were you just overthinking it?

You and Ada reached the end of the vent. She used her device to make the fan spin and explode. Once the exit was clear, you climbed down. Neither of you knew exactly where to find Annette, so you just continued to make your way deeper into the NEST toward the lab. You were carefully avoiding zombies here and there as you went. 

You'll see what you encounter first. The lab or Annette.

As you finished that thought, you paused in a hallway when you saw the Tyrant standing there, coming out of nowhere, and slowly marching toward you both. 

"How the hell did it survive?" You asked as you and Ada quickly ducked and ran around the creature, continuing in the direction you were heading before.

"I'm not sure. Let's just keep going, but at a much faster pace." Ada said.

So that's what you did. Running through the maze of vents and halls, deeper and deeper into the NEST.

You and Ada went through a doorway and onto a catwalk. You ran across the catwalk and made it to a small elevator that would take you up a floor to the next catwalk. As you went down the catwalk, you saw Annette in another room through a glass window that was likely used for observations of some kind.

"Got you now." Ada said, both running through the door to the direction that Annette was just seen. "Always been good at running, Annette. I'll give you that."

Ada must know more about Annette Birkin than you did. It sounded like they had interacted in the past. You wondered what happened in those moments that garnered such hatred between the two. 

Ada began using her fancy hacking gadget to unlock the door when you heard the familiar stomps of the Tyrant. You really hated those things with a burning passion.

"Ugh." You huffed.

"Persistent bastard, aren't you?" Ada snarked.

She quickly switches something around with her gadget and pulls the lever, finally getting the door to open. Just in time as the Tyrant was right behind you. 

You ducked into the room quickly, avoiding a hit from the Tyrant. You don't see Annette. 

"Try to avoid him while I get this vent opened." Ada explained.

"Sounds like a plan." You agreed.

Ada quickly got the fan to come off, but the vent didn't fully open. You huffed and slid through the gaps and Ada followed soon after as the Tyrant went to grab her. You landed on your feet, but fumbled and tripped as you lost your balance, making you land roughly on your bruised and scraped knees that haven't really had the chance to heal the last few days..

"Fuck!" You huffed as you slowly pushed yourself to your feet. "That was close."

"Yeah. I don't think we're in the clear." Ada said, glancing over your figure as she saw you wince in pain. She raised a brow in silent question, but you just waved her off. You'll survive.

You both ran down the hall and up a set of stairs toward the direction you think Annette had gone. You approached a locked sliding door that you realized you needed a pass to get through. 

You glanced at Ada. "That thing wouldn't happen to work on this door, would it?"

"Sadly, no. Let's look around."

Looking around, you came across a room with something shining at the bottom. Could be useful.

"Hey, maybe this is something." You said as you walked down the slanted floor to grab the item from the floor. It was a pass on a wristband.

"That's exactly what we needed. Good job." Ada praised. You couldn't help but smile slightly as you handed her the pass. Feeling slightly awkward, you looked at your surroundings and away from Ada.

The room was slanted, like it was on a hill. Charred remains lie on the floor. And- Oh. Wait.

"This is the furnace room." You deadpanned. This was a trap.

"Looks like it." Ada hummed, realizing what you had. 

"We should-" you motioned to the exit.

"Yeah." Ada nodded in agreement. You both began to make your way out, but the large metal doors to your exit slid down quickly, locking you in. A metal slot slid open, showing Annette's face.

"Bravo. Gonna burn us alive now?" Ada deadpanned.

"You'll never get your filthy hands on the G." Annette said. Her eyes moved to you. "And you. Just passing through?" She asked sarcastically.

You shrugged sheepishly and huffed an uncomfortable laugh. "Well, uh, things changed."

"You want the G too? Or did she trick you into working with her? She's good at that." Annette said.

"I'm not the only one after it. You realize that." Ada said, changing the subject.

"Then you won't die alone." Annette said, she looked at you. "You shouldn't have decided to work with her." She told you as she shut the metal slot, the furnace was activated seconds later.

Ada quickly began to do her thing with the device as the room got hotter and hotter in the span of seconds as fire burned at your feet.

"Hey, Ada? I don't mean to rush you but I don't really feel like being burned alive at the moment." You nervously said.

"Almost there." Ada reassured, sweat began to form on the both of you. The heat felt a hundred times more intense thanks to your thick hoodie that was meant for the cold and bitter air above ground.

She finally got the door to explode and you both quickly ran out of the room. You turned back and saw the furnace room had stopped working. Good riddance.

"That bitch knows what she's doing." Ada admitted.

We walked to the door that needed a pass, and it immediately opened.

"Visitor clearance confirmed. Your ID is authorized until OCTOBER FIRST. Please return before this date." A computer voice said.

"Not gonna happen." Ada said. You finally took off your jacket revealing your dark purple t-shirt, and discarded it. It was covered in blood and mud stains anyways. It was time to let it go.

"Finally gave up on it?" Ada asked as you both ran down the hall.

"It was too far gone. There was no saving it. Plus, it's really hot here."

Once again you appeared on another catwalk and ran in the direction you thought Annette went. The large room seemed to be some kind of indoor junk yard. You both paused when a spot light turned on a ways away in front of you.

"Enough, with this cat a mouse game." Ada demanded, glancing over to the window of the control room where Annette stood. She was as tired of this bullshit as you were.

"The game is over. You lost." Annette said.

"Tell me, is your husband still alive? Or did you kill him? So you could take credit for G." Ada asked.

"Interesting theory. What, did she not tell you?" Annette asked, pointing to you as she began pressing buttons and activating something. "Your new friend was there. Didn't she mention it?"

You looked around nervously as mechanisms began to hum to life. Maybe you should move.

"You don't cooperate, I'll get a sample from the NEST." Ada said simply.

"Over my dead body." Annette snarled, activating a lever.

You quickly jumped to the ledge just outside of the path of the giant, metallic claw that was swept across the catwalk. Ada wasn't as lucky in avoiding it as you were. She grasped at the safety bars, attempting to prevent her fall, but the bars fell apart from the damage to the catwalk the claw had caused.

You gasped as she fell with a scream and ran to the edge of the catwalk. You looked down the debris filled room to see a glimmer of red. You heard her yell in pain.

 Yay. She's not dead.

"Ada? You okay?" You shouted.

"Uh, no!" She yelled back. You sighed as you began to look for a ways down.

"Hang on, I'll find a way down." You told her as you glanced at the control room. Annette was still there.

"She's not who you think she is. You know that right?" Annette asked you.

"Maybe. But I'm not just gonna leave her there." You said as you made your way to a ladder leading down towards the metallic junk.

"It won't matter in the end. You'll both die before ever leaving NEST." Annette said, making you pause at the ladder.

"What makes you say that?" You questioned hesitantly, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

"William." Annette simply said as she walked off. You heard a distant, loud, roar and a shiver ran down your spine. Right. William.

"Fucking shit. I forgot about him." You muttered as you climbed down the ladder. You have been lucky enough not to cross paths with the mutated William. You suppose your luck would run out soon.

You reached the floor and set off to the direction Ada was laying. You walked around a pile of debris and saw Ada laying on the ground. A piece of sharp metal was lodged into her leg.

"Oh. Yeah, I can see how you're not okay." You said as you kneeled beside her and took your bag off to grab the first aid kit.

"Yeah? What gave it away?" Ada snarked.

"Hmm, well the scream of pain kinda rang some alarm bells. But hey. It could have been worse. You could have been impaled by that." You said, pointing to the large piece of metal not too far from where she landed. Big enough to impale her torso.

Ada shivered when she followed your pointed finger. "Yeah. This I prefer." She sat up, careful not to disturb her injury.

"Me too. I've been traumatized enough, thank you." You said, reaching into the med kit to grab the gauze, bandages, and medical tape. "Do we disinfect the wound when we pull that out?" You weren't sure how to treat stab wounds.

"Yes. I don't want an infection." She grabbed the kit and looked through what you had. "This will do." She handed you the bottle of disinfectant from the kit. "Here, I can bandage myself up. You can pull the shrapnel out."

"C- can we switch jobs?" You asked, not really wanting to hurt her.

"I can't pull it out. And I can't walk like this." Ada sighed.

You hesitated, hand drawing closer to the shrapnel. "I don't really want to hurt you." 

"You killed a man not that long ago. You can pull out some shrapnel." She deadpanned.

You flinched, but tried to ignore the comment. "Yeah, well, he was an asshole. Which you are kind of being right now. But you're in pain, so I'll allow it." You weakly joked, hand hovering over the metal.

"Thanks." She snorted.

"Just this once though." You said as you quickly pulled the metal out of her leg.

"Bitch!" Ada yelled in pain, irritated with the lack of warning. You tried not to laugh. It wasn't funny. She's in pain. 

Eh, it was kind of funny.

"I deserve that." You said as you grabbed the bottle of disinfectant and bandages from her.

"You do. I can patch myself up." Ada said grumpily, grunting in pain every now and then. She moved to take the bandage away but you slapped her wrist away.

"Just stay still and shut up." You demanded.

"Wow. You have wonderful bedside manners." She sarcastically stated.

"Yeah, and my parents wanted me to be a doctor." You laughed. You? A doctor? Yeah right.

Ada actually chuckled at the thought. "I haven't even known you a day and even I know that you would have been a terrible doctor."

"I fully agree. But, look at how well I just patched you up." You grinned, proud of your work.

Ada examined the wound. "Well, I'm not bleeding out. So good job, Y/n." 

"Careful. You almost sounded grateful. It will ruin your badass FBI persona." 

"You're right, we can't have that." Ada snarked back.

You changed your position from sitting on your knees to sitting with your legs crossed in front of you. Ada sat across from you.

"So, want to try walking around? Or do you want to wait for Leon to inevitably show up. He's probably already up and looking for us." You said.

Ada thought for a moment. "Let's wait for him. We're gonna need his help with finding the G." 

"Alright. You're the boss." You shrugged.

"Oh, am I now?" She asked.

"Well you know more about this covert mission stuff than I do."

"I don't know, you seemed to have held your own before I even got here. You got into the NEST before I did. Even got past Annette…" She complimented before trailing off. "And you know what happened to her husband, William?" Ada asked curiously.

You sighed and nodded. "Trying to butter me up for information? All you have to do is ask, Ada."

"Alright. What happened? Did you see?"

"Unfortunately. He was cornered by some men in combat gear. They were after the G, which seems to be the common theme for the past few days…" Your voice faded as your thoughts overcame your mind. 

"And?" Ada urged.

"And he decided that, rather than let them get away with it and die from his gunshot wounds, he should inject himself with the G-virus instead. So, we might encounter a mutated William Birkin while down here. Have that to look forward to." You weakly stated as you fiddled with a piece of metal, eyes gazing into the distance.

"So he caused this outbreak? Not Annette?" 

"From what I've seen. Yes. William did start this. Although Annette clearly had a part in it too. My guess is that the men in combat gear didn't get too far. Must have somehow spread in the chaos." 

"Hmm. Possibly. Thank you. For telling me." Ada said.

"You'd find out one way or another. Not that it matters much to your mission."

"No. But it is nice to know. I like to get to know everything I can. So I won't go in blind." Ada told you.

"That makes sense. I did the same thing before coming here. I was still unprepared. Nearly got lost because I didn't snag a map."

"How did you get out?"

"Annette, actually. She helped me out."

"She just, let you go? That doesn't sound like her."

"Well I obviously didn't tell her that I was investigating Umbrella and stealing information to show everyone how sketchy the company is. I think she had more important things to deal with than some girl that one of the scientists snuck in."

Ada goes to respond, but is interrupted by a familiar voice. "Ada? Y/n? Where are you?"

"Over here!" Ada yelled.

Leon came running around the corner. "There you two are. I was getting worried there for a sec." 

"We were waiting for you, slow poke." You teased.

Leon huffed a laugh. "What happened?" He asked, gesturing to the wound on Ada's leg.

"I fell." Ada deadpanned.

"More like you got thrown off the platform, but yeah." You muttered. She threw you a half-hearted glare and you raised your hands in mock surrender.

"So, what now?" Leon asked.

"Get yourself out of here. While you still can." Ada said. 

You raised a brow. She made you wait for him, claiming that he could help with finding the G-virus, and now she wants him to leave. What? What's her play here?

"I'm not just gonna leave you. Not like this." Leon told her.

"You don't understand. The situation is worse than I thought." Ada said, almost helplessly. 

Pathetically. 

She was not like this just moments ago. What's her play- Oh. She knows Leon's type. The knight in shining armor. She wants to use that to her advantage. She knows he won't leave her. Funny, you almost forgot that this was the same person who would have left you for dead in that cell if you weren't useful to her mission. You shouldn't have been so surprised. You shouldn't have let your guard down. You were an idiot.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily. You protected me. Now it's my turn." Leon said. You stood and crossed your arms, watching the scene from a distance.

"Didn't realize we were keeping score." Ada joked, referencing earlier. Leon helped her up.

"Grab my shoulder." Leon said.

"Don't push it rookie." Ada defended, slapping his hand away.

"Okay. Just trying to help." Leon said.

"You wanna help? We have to get to the NEST."

"NEST?"

"Umbrella's lab, remember? Right beneath us. That's where the virus samples are. You up for this?"

"Think I can fit it in my schedule."

You sighed and groaned loudly. "Alright, I've seen enough. Let's go love birds. Watch your step, Ada." You turned to walk ahead to the exit.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Leon asked, following behind you and a limping Ada.

"I've been in this situation for a week now, Leon. I want to get this shit show over with and get the hell out of here. And I can only do that after I uphold my end of the bargain." You said, leading them toward the direction of the cable car.

"Even though we failed to save your friends?" Leon questioned. You paused in your step and shut your eyes in frustration.

"Why do you both keep bringing them up? How am I supposed to move on when you're just reminding me of my dead friends every five minutes. Stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours." You snapped. They just kept prying, and you were over it.

"Woah, okay. I shouldn't have brought them up. I am sorry, though, about your friends." Leon said, face looking like a kicked puppy once more. How are you supposed to be angry at him when he looked at you like that? Damn your soft heart.

"Sure you are. You didn't know them. To the both of you, they're just two more faces of the thousands of dead that you've already forgotten. So please, focus on this mission so we can all go our separate ways when it's over. And hopefully never see each other again." You told them. 

You were over it. Over the fake sympathies and Umbrella and this entire city. You're tired. You didn't want to do this anymore.

"The cable car will take us further down to NEST. This wristband is our ticket to ride." Ada gestured to her wrist, breaking the silence.

"Nice. Where'd you get that?" Leon asked.

"Y/n found it."

"You're welcome." You said dryly.

"Anyway, we're almost there." Ada told him as she limped after you.

You walked through a door and held it open, Ada and Leon walked through. Or in Ada's case, limped.

She folds over in pain. "Ugh, this damn leg."

"Let me carry you." Leon insisted.

She shook her head. "No. That'd only make me feel worse. How's the shoulder?"

"Worse than it looks." He brushed off.

"What a pair. Both got one foot in the grave." Ada snarked.

You finally made it to the cable car door. "Here we are." You said.

Ada limped forward and used the wrist band to unlock the door.  It unlocked and you walked in, immediately going to sit on one of the benches, not bothering to even try and figure out how to work the cable car. Ada sat on a bench further down the cable car, which was slanted and had stairs for some reason. Interesting design choice.

"This may be a one way ride. So be prepared, you two." Ada warned.

"Not like I have a choice. Unless you're giving me the option to leave too?" You asked for across the car.

Ada shook her head. "We'll need you, Y/n. You know where to find the G. Or, at least, where to start."

Oh, so Leon got a choice and you don't? You doubted she needed you. You really did. So why was she keeping you here? What could you possibly add to the mission?

Leon started the cable car and it began its descent further into the NEST. 

"This tram is bound for NEST. Do not exit until the final destination." A computer voice said.

"You know what I was thinking? I can't wait for the FBI to raid Umbrella headquarters and take those bastards to justice." Leon said. 

Yeah, if only.

"I agree… But to be clear, you're not working in official capacity. This is a federal case. Once we get the G-virus, I'm back on my own." Ada told him.

Leon seemed a bit annoyed by this and turned around to look away. You couldn't really tell what he was thinking.

"Hey, Leon. Trust me?" Ada asked.

He walked up the stairs toward her. "You trust me?"

Ada huffed a laugh. "Honestly… If I didn't you'd probably be dead."

"Right." Leon scoffed.

"What about you, Y/n?" She asked, taking your attention from looking out the windows.

"What about me?" You asked, not really paying attention to the conversation.

"Do you trust me? Trust us?" Ada repeated.

You looked at her and Leon, pausing for a moment, before shaking your head. "No."

"No?" Leon questioned, confused and curious.

"No." You repeated. "I barely know you both. We've been together for five, maybe six hours. I don't trust that easily. Especially strangers." 

"Smart. I don't blame you for that. But for this to work, I need you to trust us. Trust me." Ada tried.

You hummed. "Yeah, well, I'll try not to ruin your plans. How about that?" 

You could meet in the middle and work together, but trust? That's a stretch. It's a lot to ask for. You've been disappointed and betrayed by those you've trusted before. In return you've always been careful when it comes to that. Hell, it took a couple weeks before you even fully trusted Ben. Especially when he started dating Katherine. 

A pang in your heart. No. Don't think about them. Survive now, grieve later. 

"Why don't you trust us? We've saved your life." Leon said.

"Yes. And I thank you for that. But in case you've forgotten, which I haven't, you also threatened to leave me for dead in that cell with Ben's body if I didn't cooperate. Not exactly a good first impression."

Ada nodded in reluctant understanding. "Look, I thought I might need yours and Y/n's help… and I was right. If you both can secure the G-virus I can make sure what happened in Raccoon City never happens again."

Leon sits next to her. "Ada. You said it yourself. It's a federal case. I don't have the authority-"

"Look at me." Ada interrupted. Leon went silent and she huffed. "I'm a liability now. If I'm gonna finish this case, you both are the last hope I've got."

Ah, so that was her plan. Make us do her dirty work.

Leon looked conflicted. "I'm not just gonna leave you here. What if you're attacked? What if you need help-"

Ada kisses Leon. She kisses him. For a good few seconds. You grimaced and turned to look out the windows, never a fan of PDA. 

Didn't they just meet each other? Must be another manipulation tactic. Kiss the man to shut him up and get him to listen.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I gotta see this through. And I want to see you again." She placed a hand on his thigh. "I got plenty to live for. Trust me." 

Is that flirting? Is she flirting?

Really fucking awkward. Oh wow, look at that. The building structure is amazing. You could give Umbrella a point for cool underground labs. That leaves them at -99. 

"Now arriving at NEST." The computer voice said.

"Go. Please. We don't have much time. You're gonna need this." She took off the wrist band and gave it to Leon.

"Okay." Leon said, ready to be the hero. "You coming, Y/n?" Leon asked you. 

You glanced at Ada and saw her look at you pleadingly. You rolled your eyes and walked over to her.

"Fine. I'll do your dirty work for you, seeing as you're incapable at the moment. But after this, I don't want to see you ever again. I don't really appreciate being manipulated." You said quietly, so Leon wouldn't hear from the doorway.

"I haven't been manipulating you-" Ada started.

"You have. And Leon too. You know it." You shrugged. "It's fine. I'll get you your G-virus. I just better not find out it has landed in the wrong hands because of you. I really don't want a repeat of Raccoon City, Ada. I don't want to have a part in that again. You can understand that, can you?" You questioned.

"I understand. You can trust me, Y/n." Ada said. 

You looked her in the eye and studied her face. You were conflicted. It was odd. Every single part of you wanted to trust her, but you knew you couldn't. That you shouldn't.

"We'll see. Stay safe, Ada." You said as you turned and walked away from her.

"I'm counting on you both." Ada said.

"I know." Leon responded. You just went out, not wanting to stay there anymore.

Time to go get the G-virus.