WHAT AN EXCELLENT DAY

@xorcists : ❝ You gotta tell me what to do. You gotta help me. ❞ From Birkin to Wesker :)

It's a miracle. Or perhaps it really was all by design. It was becoming that way now that Wesker could hardly tell. When he heard that Umbrella had made a move on William, he expected his colleagues' quick expiration, with a dark, grim feeling spreading throughout his core, perhaps the closest thing he had ever felt to grief.

And yet, remarkably, William had survived, though the chaos that followed had put the final nail in Umbrella's coffin: the T-virus had escaped into the city and spread with terrifying speed, mutating the vast majority of the good citizens into zombies, just as it was engineered to do.

Nevertheless, as soon as he confirmed Williams' survival, he took it upon himself to ensure his safe extraction. Recovery of the G-Virus was the excuse… Sentimentality was the driving factor beneath it all.

He finds him just the way he imagined he would. Hiding in the bowels of the NEST facility, where human life was thin, the T-virus' vast grasp had been eluded for now.

William Birkin — brilliant, frantic, cornered William Birkin — stood before him: A man who had only now discovered that genius did not make one immune to consequences. Raccoon City burned above them, sirens wailing in the streets between an inhuman chorus of the infected, and still, Wesker found the sight before him almost more remarkable than the catastrophe itself. It certainly managed to move him more, anyhow, his mouth curving into something thin and unimpressed, a huff of amusement escaping him as William spoke, frantic and afraid. ❝ What you do is survive. Gather what dignity you have left and use it to help me guide you out of this hell, to the organisation, where your brilliance will be appreciated for the wonder it truly is. ❞

He stepped closer, shattered glass crunching beneath his boots. Somewhere beyond the ruined hallway, something dragged itself wetly across the floor, a problem for later. ❝ Selling G to the Government under Umbrella's nose was an extraordinary lapse in judgment, William. Did you truly imagine Spencer would tolerate it? After Marcus? ❞ His voice laid venom upon the name, contempt for the lesson William had apparently failed to learn.

And yet, despite the chiding, despite the cruel precision of it, Wesker was here. He had severed communications, redirected attention, and burned through favours within the rival organization the moment word reached him that Birkin had not been lost to his own creation. That, more than any reassurance, should have been enough to say he was here to help — he was here with benevolent intentions, despite the fact that he had not contacted William since his "resurrection." But this was hardly the time or place for their reunion. It was hardly the time or place for any argument, any squabble that might have bloomed alive between them with whatever words they could exchange with each other, so he reached a hand to his one, nearly life-long friend. ❝ Come now. We have very little time, and I did not come back here to allow Umbrella to finish what it started. ❞

A   deep   breath   escapes   chapped   lips,   his   eyes   sharpening   on   the   camera   footage   depicting   the   direct   results   of   his   his   neglect.   .   .The   very   ones   he'd   blame   Umbrella   instead   of   admitting   that   HE   lost   control.   The   thought   lingers   like   a   perpetual   pinprick   in   his   side   as   he   grits   his   teeth,   his   irritability   flaring   from   Albert   being   so   direct.   William's   fingers   click   through   the   footage,   his   head   giving   one   angry   sharp   shake   at   the   mention   of   Spencer   before   his   attention   shifts   to   Albert.

❝Forgive   me   for   not   being   more   sentimental   for   pursuing   what   was   in   MY   best   interest.   ❞   William   chides   back   as   venomous   as   it   is   dry.   William   adjusts   his   lab   jacket,   with   a   subtle   tremor,   trying   desperately   to   regain   his   dignity.   ❝   I   would   say   it   is   unbelievable───❞ He   continues   to   pack   away   anything   that   held   significant   value,   ❝   but   it   IS   coming   from   YOU.   You   always   did   have   a   talent   for   saying   things   that   sear   like   a   brand.❞   A   humorless   breath   escapes   him   with   a   subtle   shake   of   his   head.

Tired   eyes   narrow,   ❝───And   Marcus   ?   ❞   A   pause   as   a   briefcase   is   shut   and   locked,   ❝   He   was   a   lesson.   Spencer   ensured   that.   Produce   until   inconvenient,   keep   excelling   until   dangerous,   and   when   you   become   a   liability,   you   get   to   be   buried   like   everyone   before   you.❞   William   reaches   for   another   vial,   more   notes,   rather   frantic   despite   that   familiar   attitude   he   could   never   quite   shake   off.

❝   I   never   once   thought   Spencer   to   be   merciful.   I   misjudged   because   I   thought   he   was   practical.❞   His   lips   pull   taut,   ❝ There   IS   a   difference.   .   .and   apparently,   I   was   WRONG.   ❞   It   almost   physically   hurts   to   admit   it   as   he   finally   looks   to   Albert   once   more,   ❝.   .   .and   need   I   remind   you   that   it   was   YOU   who   came   back.   ❞   he   bites   like   a   cornered   animal,   a   hand   moving   through   his   hair   before   pausing,   his   mind   considering   Annette,   and   Sherry   with   a   unintentional   thought.

❝   You   were   supposed   to   be   dead.   ❞   The   words   carry   less   venom,   still   tense,   but   for   the   moment   the   unexpected   thought   of   his   wife   and   daughter   is   brushed   under   a   rug,   ❝.   .   .and   unless   you   crawled   out   of   your   grave   to   lecture   me.   .   .❞   He   moves,   holding   the   briefcase   out   in   expectation,   looking   over   the   other   man   before   offering   a   tired   sigh   with   the   faintest   hint   of   a   smirk.

❝   .   .   .How'd   you   manage   anyway   ?   ❞   he   questions   faintly   with   the   slow   narrowing   of   his   eyes,   ❝   I   mean.   .   .the   estate.   .   .   ❞   He   trails   off,   shaking   his   head,   almost   annoyed   that   he   decided   to   ask.   ❝   It   isn't   relevant.   Forget   it.   .   .   just.   .   .Lets   go.   ❞   It's   the   best   course   of   action   he   decides   with   a   faint   nod,   trying   to   move   fast   to   avoid   the   sentiment   thoughts   clawing   at   the   back   of   his   psyche.

Annette   would   be   fine.   She's   capable.   .   .and   Sherry,   well,   she   wasn't   there.   He   had   to   protect   'G'.   Annette   would   understand,   she'd   encouraged   his   dedication   in   the   past,   and   she   knew   that   his   work   came   first   so.   .   .why,   does   he   feel   guilty   ?

𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒; 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖘 & 𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖘 (pt.1)

change pronouns, tenses and other details as deemed necessary. & please specify muse when sending to a mumu.

THE DEAD ARE ... WHISPERING

“They’re  whispering  again…  its...  softer  this  time,  like  they  don’t  want  me  to  know  what  they’re  saying.”

“I  see  them  standing  by  the  fence  every  night.  They  don’t  move.  They  just  watch.”

“The  dead  follow  us  ───  not  to  hurt  us,  just  to  remember  what  being  alive  felt  like.”

“Don’t  tell  me  they’re  gone.  I  can  still  feel  their  breath  on  my  neck.”

“Sometimes  the  wind  says  my  name  in  their  voice.”

“I  heard  them  laugh  behind  me,  but  when  I  turned  around…  no  one  was  there.”

“They  never  look  angry.  Just  lost.  Like  they’re  waiting  for  me  to  join  them.”

“Their  reflection  appears  in  mirrors  that  aren’t  mine.”

“They  only  visit  when  the  world  goes  quiet  ───  as  if  the  noise  keeps  them  away.”

“If  ghosts  are  real,  maybe  heaven’s  just  too  full.”

TALKING TO THE SHADOWS, DO THEY TALK BACK?

“I  talk  to  them  because  silence  is  worse.”

“They  answer  sometimes.  But  not  with  words  ───  with  coldness.”

“I  told  the  ghost  of  my  mother  I  was  sorry.  She  smiled  and  disappeared.”

“It  asked  me  if  it  still  hurts.  I  said  yes,  and  a  voice  said  'good'.”

“You'll  think  I’m  crazy,  but  it  told  me  where  to  find  the  medicine.  And  it  was  there.”

“Every  time  I  try  to  forget  them,  they  remind  me.”

“I  saw  [Name]'s  ghost  walking  the  road.  Same  clothes,  same  limp  ── but  just…  empty,  empty  eyes.”

“The  ghosts  don’t  lie...  they  don’t  need  to.”

“They  know  things  the  living  could never know.”

“Sometimes  I  think  they’re  protecting  us  from  something  worse.”

MEMORIES OF THE PAST

“They  only  come  to  me  when  I  sleep  ──  like  my  guilt  becomes  their  face.”

“The  ghost  didn’t  scare  me;  it  forgave  me.  That’s  what  terrified  me  most.”

“Every  face  I  couldn't  save  follows  me  in  the  dark.”

“I  asked  them  what  they  wanted...  they  just  pointed  at  me.”

“Its  voice  sounded  tired…  like  they  were  done  haunting  me,  but  I  wasn’t  done  being  haunted.”

“They  never  say  why  they  stay.  Maybe  I’m  the  reason.”

“Each  time  I  close  my  eyes,  I  see  another  one  I  left  behind.”

“The  dead  never  forget  who  you  were  when  they  died.”

“They  keep  replaying  the  moment,  over  and  over,  like  they  need  me  to  see  it  too.”

“I  used  to  be  scared  of  the  ghosts.  Now  I'm  scared  when  they  stop  showing  up.”

IT'S A COLD SPOT, WHERE THE VEIL GROWS THIN

“It’s  getting  harder  to  tell  who’s  alive  anymore.”

“They  appear  during  the  storms  ──  and  the  lightning  makes  them  visible.  Watch.”

“I  watched  her/him/them  fade  with  the  sunrise,  but  she/he/they'll  be  back  when  it  rains.”

“Every  fog  that  rolls  in  brings  new  faces  from  the  other  side.”

“He  touched  my  hand,  and  I  felt  my  pulse  stop  for  a  heartbeat.”

“The  children  see  them  first.  They  always  do.”

“I  saw  my  reflection  blink  when  I  didn’t.”

“There’s  a  woman  who  hums  near  the  riverbank.  No  one  else  hears  her.”

“The  air  feels  different  where  they're here  ──  it's  like  breathing  someone  else’s  sorrow,  someone  else's  pain.”

“I  think  the  veil’s  thinning;  we  need  to  be  careful.”

@xorcists – Father Kastner said: "What circle of Dante’s Inferno did you crawl out of?"

❝  Heaven.  .  .Huh.  ❞  Father  Kastner  tilts  his  head  as  he  narrows  his  eyes,  his  hands  resting  on  his  hips  as  he  stands  before  the  altar  of  the  small  Northern  Carolina's  church.  Despite  the  lingering  TENSION  he  laughs,  ❝  That's  mighty  convenient.  Ain't  it  ?  ❞  His  voice  is  smooth,  unbothered,  perhaps  even  a  bit  amused  by  the  declaration.  ❝  I  mean.  .  .Ya  gotta  see  it  from  my  perspective───Folks  wanderin'  through  Church  doors  in  the  dead  of  night  ain't  normally  HOLY,  so,  you'll  forgive  my  doubt.  It's  gonna  take  a  bit  more  than  THAT to  convince  me  of  your  claims.  ❞

just freckles.

bare skin.

i’m not going anywhere, john.

the words should have been simple. they were not. his eyes lifted back to hers slowly, searching her face with a kind of intensity that made the silence heavier than it needed to be. he looked for the lie first. of course he did. the crack in her voice. the wrong flicker in her eyes. the subtle tension of someone saying what they thought he wanted to hear because it was safer than telling him the truth. but she looked sincere. that was almost worse.

“you say that now,” he replied at last, voice quieter than expected. “people always say things like that when it feels important.” a pause followed. his gaze flicked briefly toward the windows, toward the soft glow of the setting sun bleeding gold across the glass. it made the room look warmer than it felt. prettier. almost peaceful in the way expensive rooms were designed to appear peaceful, regardless of what happened inside them. “they say they understand. they say they’re not leaving. they say they chose it.”

john studied her for another long moment, taking in the softness of her face, the freckles, the quiet steadiness in her eyes. he wanted to believe it. that was the humiliating part. some part of him, small and starved and pathetic enough to disgust him, wanted to take the words exactly as she offered them. no trick. no performance. no hidden exit.

just stay.

his fingers curled around hers at last. careful, despite himself.

“you don’t get to say that and then change your mind,” he said.

the words came low. almost too calm. not quite a threat. not quite a plea. something worse, perhaps, because it sat somewhere between the two and wore both faces badly. his gaze held hers, unblinking.

“not after saying it like that.”

a beat passed. then the corner of his mouth lifted faintly, though there was little humour in it. only the familiar attempt to cover something exposed before it could be named.

“because i will remember.” the grip of his hand remained gentle, but firmer now, as if he were testing the shape of the promise by holding onto the person who had made it. “every word... so if you’re lying to me…”

he stopped there, not finishing the thought. perhaps because he did not need to. perhaps because finishing it would make the ugliness too obvious, and for once he did not seem eager to ruin the softness entirely.

instead, john exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes briefly dropping back to their hands.

Prism stood before him like a patron saint of peace, her shoulders relaxing as she listens to him speak. Not once does her expression fall from the calmness she had been offering, instead something solemn in it bleeds for HIM. Her brows pulling together with empathy as her lips pull into a strained line. She manages a silent nod, her hand resting over his lifting to cup his cheek (the other remaining beneath his, never once loosening it's hold nor breaking it ).

❝ I cannot promise you forever, because forever isn't something I'm capable of giving. . .but while we are both here, you'll have me, whatever we become to one another. I wouldn't dream of making your burden any heavier, sweetheart. You've already been through so much.❞ In her admissions, she never once named any of the things she suspected, only that she KNEW things were at minimum destructively emotionally for him.

❝ I'm a believer in fate.❞ A soft breath, a glimpse of shyness, ❝ and I'd be lying if I said that I don't find purpose at your side, that I'm here because of Vought. ❞ A pause, her head shaking. ❝ It's because of you, John.❞ Her thumb softly brushes against his cheek as she takes a breath from nose.

❝ Credit should be given when it's due, and God knows you've deserved it for so long. Not from the fans, not. . .from something menial, but from someone who isn't terrified to look into your eyes and tell you that they are willing to walk beside you, and believe in your dreams. You deserve to see them through after everything they've taken from you, even if I don't know the shapes missing.❞

A shift, the hand on his cheek moving as she takes the final step closer, giving him a moment to step back should he wish, but if he doesn't, her arms moving to wrap around him, holding him tenderly as her ear rests against his chest, listening to his heart as he eyes close with a shakey breath. . .and not once does she try to hide that from him. Rather, when her eyes open and the tears have surfaced, she smiles faintly as her eyes look back up to him.

❝ I apologize at the dramatics. . .❞ A soft breath of amusement, an attempt to alleviate the weight between them. ❝. . .I'm a crier───at least I'm not a ugly one.❞ Another attempt with a heavier huff, her smile pulling another inch, ❝ If. . .you ever want me to understand. . .You tell me. I'd be able to see it all, but I will never ask for that part of you. . .and I'd never take it forcefully. ❞ Her telepathy was powerful enough she could dig around if she wanted, but she made promises to herself long ago, that she'd never do it unless it was a necessity. ❝ Perhaps. . .once day, I'll show you my past too. If that's something that you'd want.❞

@xorcists liked for a starter ( for ada )

❝ I care for no one but the offspring of your mind. Run from the one who comes to find you ❝

How strange must it be for her to be standing before him, he who looked like someone she had known, worked with. For him to know more about her than could be comfortable. Not that he should care about such mundane things.

The years had aged Ada───the once immaculate hair dusted with ribbons of white, her eyes carrying more weight than any person should. Her posture is immaculate, focused, as she holds the grapple gun tight in hand, just w a i t i n g for the clone of her former employer to make a move.

❝ Funny. From where I'm standing, you're following the same path HE did. ❞ Her hand holding the grapple gun shifts slightly as she shrugs a shoulder. ❝ Not that I care. It's what I expected. ❞ A breath of amusement escapes, as her gaze narrows much like a serpent, ❝ You interrupted my retirement, and I'd like to know why. ❞ It's not so much a question as it is a demand.

I’m finding it difficult to find memes for nonverbal characters ( be they mute, or just not fond of talking ) so I thought I’d make a few!

Neutral

☝️ Tap my muse on the shoulder

👉 Point to something for my muse to see

🤙 Bump into my muse

😊 Sit down next to my muse

🤨 Sit down across from my muse

📓 Push/Slide [an object] across a table to my muse

✍️ Pass my muse a note

🙄 Roll their eyes at my muse

🚪 Tap on a table/door/wall/chair to get my muse’s attention without speaking

Aggressive

🐺 Growl at my muse

😬 Snarl/show teeth at my muse

😠 Death Glare at my muse

🙌 Push/Shove my muse

👊 Punch my muse

👖 Kick my muse in the shin

👠 Stomp on my muse’s foot

😵 Knee my muse in the gut

💀 Knee my muse in the groin

🔪 Point a weapon at my muse

🖕 Flip my muse the bird/a similar gesture

👔 Roughly pull my muse down by the collar

💢 Bang on a door/wall/table to get my muse’s attention- angrily

Angst

👩‍⚕️ Put pressure on my muse’s wound

🌡 Push my muse down to give them medical attention

🥣 Bring my muse soup/medicine when they are sick

🤢 Hold my muse’s hair back/Rub my muse’s back while they are sick/throwing up

👐 Hold my muse when they are badly wounded/dying

👁 Wake my muse up during a nightmare

🐱 Hold my muse after a nightmare

😭 Hold my muse when they are crying

😢Touch my muse’s shoulder while they are crying in secret

💧 Wipe away my muse’s tears

💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment

⛈ Find my muse after some kind of trauma

Soft

👕 Tug on my muse’s sleeve/shirt/skirt

🐈 Lean against my muse’s side

🤝 Hold my muse’s hand

🤗 Pull my muse into a hug

🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s shoulder/knee

🐶 Nuzzle my muse with their nose [specify a location]

✋ Touch the back of my muse’s hand

🤝 Reach for my muse’s hand to hold it

👗 Fix/Straighten my muse’s clothes

😴 Stand by the bed to see if my muse will let you under the covers with them

🛌 Crawl under the covers with my muse

🥪 Set a plate/tray/bowl of food down for my muse

😚 Kiss my muse on the cheek

Playful

🌸 Put a flower in my muse’s hair

✨ Playfully shove my muse’s shoulder

💃 Pull my muse onto a dance floor/up to dance

🤞 Come up beside them and tap the shoulder opposite where they’re standing

😈 Jump out of the shadows to scare/startle my muse

😛 Stick their tongue out at my muse

😱 Make a silly face at my muse

🤭 Tickle my muse

👃 Poke my muse’s nose

💪 Pick my muse up

Sensual/Sexual

💘 Pull my muse in for a rough kiss

💕 Pull my muse in for a tender kiss

💞 Pull my muse in for a messy/desperate kiss

💖 Lean in to give my muse a sweet/chaste kiss

❤️ Lean in to give my muse a tender kiss

🔥 Pull my muse down by the collar/by their clothes - in a sexy way

😉 Pull my muse in by the hips

😲 Smack my muse’s butt

💋 Kiss my muse’s neck

👌 Push my muse down and give them a massage

👙 Pull [an article of clothing] off my muse

👀 Push my muse down on the bed

sentence  starters  meant  for  famous  characters,  for  characters  who  live  in  the  limelight.  some  for  famous  senders,  famous  receivers,  &  both!

they  only  love  the  version  of  you  they  built.

everyone  wants  a  piece  of  you.

do  you  ever  wish  you  could  be  anonymous  again?

if  that  photo  leaks,  we’re  both  done.

they'll  turn  on  me  the  second  i  mess  up

are  you  always  this  charming  or  just  on  red  carpets?

if  i  stop  shining,  will  they  stop  looking  at  me?

fake  smiles  are  muscle  memory  for  me.

this  isn't  real  life  for  most  people,  you  know.

do  you  even  know  who  you  are  without  the  fans?

being  iconic  is  a  full  time  job!

want  to  hide  out  here  for  a  minute?

you  think  this  business  has  room  for  people  like  me?

you  stop  being  a  person  the  second  your  name  becomes  a  headline.

we're  trending.  again.  what  did  you  even  do?

i'd  give  it  all  up  if  you  asked  me  to.

you  bought  out  the  entire  cafe?

your  manager  said  this  could  ruin  you.

this  is  for  press.  don't  make  this  to  be  something  it's  not.

is  this  really  what  you  wanted  when  you  said  you  wanted  to  be  seen?

i  liked  you  better  before  we  both  had  pr  teams.

you're  the  only  one  who  talks  to  me  like  i'm  real.

nobody  claps  when  i'm  crying  in  my  trailer.

don't  confuse  charisma  for  confidence.

you  deserve  every  second  of  this.

three  awards  in  one  night?  try  not  to  gloat.

we  are  one  bad  decision  away  from  being  tomorrow's  headline.

i  want  you,  not  some  picture  on  my  magazine.

this  face  launched  brands  and  ruined  careers.

they  worship  the  shine,  not  what's  beneath.

sometimes  i  think  i  was  built  to  be  looked  at,  not  known.

sure,  i  can  sign  your  shirt.

say  you  didn't  just  roast  me  in  your  fucking  acceptance  speech.

i  got  three  hours  of  sleep  and  sparkly  highlighter.  let's  go.

let  them  stare.  i'd  stare  at  me,  too.

you  light  up  the  entire  room.

careful,  i  might  start  a  fan  club  just  to  embarrass  you.

it's  okay  if  you  need  five  minutes  to  be  a  real  human  being.

you're  one  of  my  favorite  people,  famous  or  not.

if  this  dress  gets  me  on  some  "worst-dressed"  list,  i  blame  you.

i  miss  when  we  used  to  party  without  photographers.

you  realize  you're  the  most  famous  person  here,  right?

@xorcists asked: "Don’t make me regret this." From Prism <3

›       TENSION   LINER   PROMPTS     / accepting

john’s expression softened at the words, though there was something almost too careful about the way it happened. like watching a knife lower itself slowly and asking to be mistaken for mercy.

his gaze lingered on them for a moment longer than necessary, reading the hesitation in their face with the same quiet attention he gave to most things he intended to use later. fear. doubt. stubbornness dressed up as caution. all perfectly human. all perfectly predictable.

“regret this? come on,” he said softly, the smile returning with just enough warmth to almost feel convincing. “you make it sound like i’m trying to trick you. i’m not.”

the lie sat between them cleanly, polished enough to pass as sincerity if they wanted badly enough to believe it and people usually did. john took one slow step closer, not enough to be threatening. not openly. just close enough to make the space between them feel like something he had chosen rather than something they still controlled.

“i’m giving you a chance,” he continued, voice dropping into something gentler. “that’s all.” his eyes stayed fixed on theirs, bright and steady and almost kind in the worst possible way. “you don’t have to regret being smart.”

another pause. the smile sharpened by the smallest degree.

A pensive expression finds itself on her face as her baby blues look up at him, a soft sigh of disappointment escaping her lips as she looks down with a faint shake. Her slender manicured hands move to her center, the softness she normally kept locked up is offered to the blonde before her as she stands in a dressing robe. She's smaller without her boots, her face without makeup allowing her freckles on her cheeks to show and she looks human. Not ethereal, not perfect───human.

❝. . .Oh, John. . .❞ Her voice softens as her eyes lift back to find his, ❝ I desperately want to believe that───I do.❞ Her voice is apologetic despite HIS lie, a single step closer, the white silk swaying as her hands lift to gently take one of his hands, squeezing softly should he allow the physical touch.

❝ I'm choosing not be offended by the lie that I have a choice.❞ Her smile forces subtly, ❝ I already know I don't. . .but I've also never asked you for one. I'm not the type to waste time. If i'm here, I'm choosing to be. I don't expect you to just. . .believe that, but I'm saying it because it's important to me that you hear it. Not from Ashley, or the others. From me.❞ She speaks with a soft voice that lacks distance, her eyes breaking to the setting sun scenery provided from large spotless windows as she squeezes his hands once more. ❝ You don't need to do any of that. If it takes time for you to believe me, so be it. . .but I'm not going anywhere, John.❞ A confirmation spoken as a whisper as she slowly looks back up to meet his gaze, that faint smile easing to something more heartfelt and genuine.