#the wait mode however proves ... insistent

[rudjedet]

Just realised that the reason I can't easily write (or at all) in the evenings and/or when C is at preschool has less to do with my mental exhaustion (though that definitely plays a part), and more with the fact that I'm stuck in fucking wait mode. -_-

[goosewriting]

Just a little tipsy, I swear (rottmnt x reader)

summary: the turtles discover how clingy you get after drinking one too many.

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie x GN reader (separate)

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fluff, maybe secondhand embarrassment? lol please read the reader and turtles as aged up to what the legal drinking age is where you live! F/n = friend’s name.

word count: 3.2k

A/N: tysm for the request! hope i made it justice :) also sorry Leo’s is longer than everyone else’s,, can you tell who my fave is? sdfsdf

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

It had been a while since the turtle had heard from you; the last couple text messages you had left on read. He knew you were at a party with your friends, and had insisted you tell him when you went home so he could accompany you. It was 3am already and still no news from you. He was starting to get a little worried.

Just as he took out his phone to message you again, the device rang in his hand, your name appearing on the screen.

🔵 Leo

“Y/n! What’s up, you having fun?” Leo greeted you after picking up the call.

He didn’t get an answer however; he just heard you giggling and some shuffling sounds.

“..Hello, you okay?” he tried again.

“‘m ready for pick-up” you slurred. He snorted at how wasted you sounded.

“On my way, send me your location. You still at the party?”

“Yessir” you answered, blinking at your phone, trying to find the option to share your current location. Instead you turned on your front camera.

Leo laughed at your face, how you squinted at the screen, not quite comprehending why you were seeing yourself.

“How much did you drink?” he laughed.

You counted on your fingers, thinking hard, but lost count at 7 and just shrugged at him.

“Just stay there okay? I’ll be right there!” Leo grabbed swords, ending the call.

Within seconds a portal opened a couple metres behind you, and through came your favourite turtle.

You hadn't seen him yet, and as he was approaching you, his phone pinged: it was you texting him, saying how much you missed him, and that you needed cuddles, and he should hurry.

On one side he found it very cute how clingy you seemed; it was the first time he saw you this drunk.

On the other side a mischievous grin formed on his face as he was already planning how to get the most out of it, probably take some pics or videos to embarrass you tomorrow with.

You were waiting outside your friend’s house where the party was still going hard. Music and flashing lights could be seen and heard from the street.

You were waiting leaning onto a tall planter by the sidewalk.

Leo approached you, greeting you with a peck to the cheek. You leaned into his touch.

“I missed youu~” you whined and hugged him. “Next time we gotta ‘ave a biiig party in the lair”.

“Yeah yeah, we can have a one next time” he said, patting your head.

“This party doesn’t seem over though? Were you not feeling well?” he said, pointing at the house still in full rave mode.

“It wasn’t fun without you there” you mumbled into his plastron. “Wanted to see your face”.

He blushed at the loving smile you were giving him. How could you still look this good in such an alcoholised state?

“Well, here I am” he finally said and tried to separate you from him, but you only hugged him tighter. “We gotta get you home tho. You’re pretty wasted.”

“I am not” you scoffed, taking a step forward to prove how sober you were, and immediately losing your balance.

If it weren’t for Leo who effortlessly caught you mid-air, you’d have landed face-first into the ground.

You grabbed onto him for dear life, and he wasn’t really complaining.

Since you were kinda not really able to walk, he picked you up bridal style as he made a portal leading just outside of your place.

You didn't even notice you were already home; holding onto him you kept telling him how much you loved him, how good he looked, how strong he was, etc etc

He soaked it all up like a freaking sponge. His ego was through the roof, and he even encouraged you to shower him with more compliments with “You really think so?”s and “How come?”s.

After some minutes, he tried to set you down so you could both climb through the window, but you didn’t let go.

“Y/n please, we can’t both fit through at the same time. Can you stand?”

But you were in full koala mode, shaking your head and holding on tighter.

He sighed; you’d really be the death of him.

Making yet another portal, he got both of you inside.

Finally arriving at your bedroom he gently set you down onto the bed with a grunt.

Leo had to fight you for a couple seconds to pry your arms from his shoulders. Had you always been this strong?

“Noo, don’t go” you whined, holding his hand.

“I’ll just get you some water, I’ll be right back”. Picking out your PJs from the dresser, he set them next to you on the bed. “Meanwhile change into these.”

Leo left to get you your water; he brought a pitcher and a glass, as well as some aspirins.

As he set everything down on your nightstand, he saw you had managed to change but your shirt was on backwards, the tag sticking out under your chin.

You were lying with your legs to the side, dangling off the bed, your torso contorted in an angle that could not have been comfortable, your hair and arms sprawled all over.

Leo took a couple pics from different angles, holding in his laugh. The idea came to him to get a marker and scribble something on your face, but you suddenly shot up, sitting on the bed.

“What is it? Do- Do you need a bucket or something?” he feared you were gonna be sick, already standing up.

But you only exhaled in relief when hearing his voice.

“No, ‘s okay. Thought you were gone” you lied down on your back again and scooted over, patting the space beside you.

“Will you stay with me a while?” you asked, your voice no louder than a whisper, and Leo felt like he combusted on the spot.

The way you looked so enticing right now, all he wanted was to devour you whole. But you were in no state for that.

Getting comfortable next to you, you tucked your face into the crook of his neck.

“I really did miss you. Wish we could hang outside more. There’s so much to see and do”.

“Really, like what?” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like, hot dogs. And Pretzels. Deep dish pizza.”

“I think there’s more to New York than food. Are you hungry?” he chuckled softly, but you didn’t answer. You were already fast asleep, your even breathing fanning over his plastron.

“Good night Y/N” Leo kissed the top of your head and pulled up the covers over you both. He made a mental note to take you out on a picnic date sometime soon.

🔴 Raph

“Y/n! Is everything okay?” Raph asked, his voice laced with worry.

“Hey big guy~” you slurred. He blushed at the unexpected tone. “‘m ready to go home.”

“On my way! Just stay where you are okay? I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Instead of a response he heard an “Oof!” followed by a crash and your groaning.

“Y/n! Are you okay? What happened?”

“…Fell.”

“Are you hurt? Just- Stay where you are and don’t move. Got it?”

“Aye aye captain” you saluted, forgetting that he couldn't see you.

Before heading out, Raph quickly grabbed the first aid kit.

He was so worried it only took him 10 minutes to get where you were.

He found you on the front lawn of your friend’s house where the party was still going loud.

You had taken the “don’t move” to heart: there you lied, face-down in the grass, a broken vase next to you.

“Why are you on the ground, you’ll get a cold!” he scolded you as he picked you up.

Turning you around he saw your tears streaming down your cheeks, to which he panicked.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” he frantically checked over your body, looking for any injuries. “Please say something?”

“It isn’t the fall that hurt” you finally whined. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Was it your pride?” he asked sympathetically, but also with a chuckle.

“Nooo” you whined again, wriggling in his hold. God, you looked so cute right now.

Raph wiped some mud off your cheeks, asking “Where then?”

“Here” you answered, hitting your chest twice with your fist over where your heart would be.

“Huh? Did someone say something?” Raph questioned, 100% ready to storm into that house and throw hands.

“My friends don’t believe me you exist” you said and wiped your dirty sleeve over your face in an attempt to dry your tears, instead spreading more grass and mud over your face.

“You know I can’t exactly waltz into a room of humans” Raph said sheepishly and rubbed his neck, but deep inside he knew what you meant. He also wished he could take you out to ‘normal’ dates and places like restaurants, and not just ones in the Hidden City.

“I knooow, but sill” you continued whining, this time lightly hitting his plastron with your fists.

“I just wish I could show them what an amazing, thoughtful, strong and handsome boyfriend I have! Who cares if you’re a giant turtle? I don’t!” you explained, trying to stand on your own but failing, falling right back into Raph’s chest.

His gaze softened and he chuckled, endeared at how open you were being about him. Maybe he’d have to get you to drink more often, just in a safer space.

“Alright, let’s get you home then.”

He picked you up effortlessly and carried you all the way home.

All the while you kept holding onto him and peppering his face in kisses here and there.

Once you both arrived, you climbed through your window first, stumbling to your living room, where you opened the balcony door for him.

You kept whining about how he was the best boyfriend and no one believed you because they hadn’t seen him.

Meanwhile he was wiping the dirt off of you, answering with “Uh-huh”s and “I know”s here and there.

When he finally managed to get you changed and tucked you into your bed, he got you something to drink.

You gulped down the glass of water, and intently looked at him with half asleep eyes.

“What is it Y/n? Do you need anything else?” he asked, and you took his big hand in yours.

“Stay the night.” you finally said, it was more of an order rather than a question.

Still you were giving him the most adorable puppy eyes he had seen you make yet.

Engraving this moment into his memory, Raph chuckled.

“I’ll shred your bed to pieces if I get in there with you” he admitted sadly.

“Let’s make a fort then.”

And with that you hopped out of bed, losing your balance once or twice on your way to the living room.

You dragged some blankets and all the pillows you could find in front of the couch.

It looked more like a nest than a fort but it still looked inviting.

You got in there, cosying up, and patted the space next to you.

Raph lied down behind you. You liked being the small spoon; it made you feel safe and warm in his arms.

Turning around one last time you kissed him tenderly.

“Thanks for always putting up with me” you whispered and wished him a good night.

“Anytime, sweetheart” he responded, and you were both quickly pulled into dreamland, lulled into sleep by each other’s heartbeats.

🟠 Mikey

“Yellow~?” Mike answered the phone.

“Mikeyyy~” you whined.

“Yes Y/n?”

No response. Just some giggling.

Then some shuffling sounds and laughter in the background.

“Is this Y/n’s S/O?” an unknown voice asked.

“Yeah, what’s going on? Are they ok?” Mikey started to panic a bit.

“They’re fine, just wasted. Can’t even walk in a straight line.”

“I’m not! Just a lil’ tipsy is all” he could hear you retort in the background.

“They’re more than a ‘little tipsy’. I’ve never seen them this drunk, it’s kinda hilarious to be honest- No! Y/n! Get out of the aquarium!” Mikey heard some laughing and splashing. Just what was going on?!

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes! Just, keep an eye out for them please? Thank you!” Mikey said and your friend agreed to have them at the door by the time he arrived.

He hurried to get to the house the party was at, it was probably the place of the person on the phone.

Hiding behind some bushes first, he saw you coming out the door. You spotted him and waved, saying your goodbyes to your friends.

Once they were out of sight he walked towards you, and just in time, because you very non-elegantly fell down the few steps on the porch.

He caught you by your waist, and you let him hold your whole weight, because your legs had just decided to stop working.

“Hmm” you hugged him and talked like you were telling him a secret. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“Yeah, you don’t say” Mikey laughed and picked you up.

That’s when he noticed your left arm and leg were wet up to your elbow and knee.

“So, I take it you had fun?” he asked as he started the trip to your home.

“Yiiiis” you giggled. “F/n has an aquarium! With a turtle, I swear it looks just like you, it’s so cute”.

You started crying remembering just how adorable the little reptile was.

“But not as cute as me, right?” Mikey asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

When you didn’t answer, he gasped in mock offense.

You laughed through your tears. “Of course you’re the cutest. The handsomest. The bestest.” Between every wrongly declined adjective, you gave Mikey a kiss on the tip of his snout. “But the other turtle’s a close second.”

He giggled and kissed your nose as well.

You were especially cute when drunk, he noted.

Having arrived at your place he considered if he should stay a bit longer to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

“Can you walk now?” he asked, setting you down. Your bones were jelly and you just crouched on the ground.

“Yes” you said confidently, when clearly you could not.

“Alright” he laughed and helped you climb through the window.

He turned on the small lamp on your desk, at which you hissed and covered your face.

“Let’s get you ready for bed” he said and guided you to the bathroom to change into something dry, and to clean yourself from the faint aquarium smell you had.

Once you were in your PJs he took you to your bed, but you didn’t let go.

“Y/n, you need to sleep” he said, tugging at your arms, but you were holding onto him for dear life.

“Noo” you whined. “Stay the night. I’ll be lonely without you.”

You were looking up at him with so much love, your cheeks adorned with a blush. How could he say no?

“Scoot over” he finally gave in and you giggled in glee, making room for him.

But being next to Mikey wasn’t close enough for you, so you climbed on top of him.

“You comfortable up there?” he chuckled, to which you nodded your head and sighed contentedly.

Mikey’s arms snaked around your waist and he kissed the top of your head.

“Good night Y/n~” he whispered, but you were already fast asleep.

🟣 Donnie

“Well, look who finally decided to pick up the phone” Donnie said in mock offense; he was clearly glad you finally gave some life signal.

“I- I think ’m lost” you slurred your words.

“Wha- Wait. Did you leave without me? I told you to wait at your friend’s until I came to pick you up” Donnie scolded you, earning a whine from you, as he was typing frantically into his computer.

“Can you describe where you are or what you see?” he asked, but he was already pulling up your location on his screen. He could both track your phone and the subcutaneous tracker he had put on you, just as on his brothers, because better safe than sorry, right?

“Uhm- I’m in the United States. I think. Everything is spinning around, wee~” you giggled.

Donnie groaned as his GPS triangulated your location. It beeped and showed where you were standing: behind him.

“What-“ he started and spun around, only to see you wobbling into the lair.

Donnie hung up the phone and walked towards you.

“Hello? Hellooo~?” you spoke into the phone.

Seeing he had hung up, you started wailing softly.

“I’m right here” he sighed and gently grabbed you by the shoulders, stabilising you.

“I thought you ‘ere gonna leave me” you cried, holding back your sobs.

“Why would you think that? I would never- oomph!” you let your phone and bag/purse fall to the ground, hugging him tightly.

“Y/n, work with me, please” Donnie said, noticing how you were kinda just hanging from his neck, letting him support your whole weight.

He tapped your thigh, indicating for you to lift your legs, and picked you up.

Your legs went around his hips, and he held you by your thighs.

Donnie carried you to his room while you sniffled into his bandana, staining it in tears and probably a bit of snot.

“How much did you drink anyways?” he asked you, trying to set you down onto his bed, but you weren’t letting go.

“Jus’ a lil’ bit”, you lied, remembering the beers and shots you took one after another, your memories becoming fuzzy after your friend had brought a huge bottle of a mysterious blue-greenish liquid.

“Can you please let go Y/n” he sighed. “You need to sleep, and I need to work.”

You shook your head, making you slightly dizzy.

“I wanna stay with you” you said into his plastron.

Donnie took a deep breath and exhaled, readjusting your weight in his hold.

“Fine. But you better not complain over how hungover you’re tomorrow, you hear me?”

“Promise~” you happily said and kissed his cheek.

He entered his lab, you immediately hissing at the bright lights.

“You sure you wanna stay?” he smirked. You only nodded your head, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Donnie sat down at his table, with you straddling him, and adjusted your body so his arms were under yours, and he could look over your shoulder. It wouldn’t be easy but he’d be lying if he didn’t like feeling your weight and warmth on him like this.

“I’ll try to finish quickly so we can go to bed okay?” he pecked the side of your face and went back to work.

You sighed happily into his neck and mumbled sweet nothings to him.

He couldn't make out everything but he did catch some “I love you”s and “You’re the best boyfriend”.

With a light blush and a soft smile adorning his face, he finished up his work quickly, leaving most of it for tomorrow, so he could have you cuddle him to sleep.

[odditycircus-2002]

Medusa!Reader and Shang Tsung in MK1 Part 8

Spoilers for story mode: Proceed with caution

Previous

NEXT

When Kuai Liang and Tomas brought you to Lord Raiden’s Fire Temple, you were pleasantly surprised to find Syzoth and vice versa. Syzoth then inquires about your health, if Shang Tsung hurt you or did anything to you. He swears that he’ll make the Sorcerer 100 times fold for everything he did, but you put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance before he could go on to plan his revenge out loud. You remind him that you don't prepare an effective murder plan out loud.

Not too long after you reunite with Syzoth, the Earthrealmers you met, Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Kenshi, and a woman you've never met enter the courtyard to greet you. Like the Zatteran, without murder planning, they express their relief at seeing you mostly alright besides the bruises and scratches. First Cage hands you another set of sunglasses for your eyes before letting you in on how Baraka reacted when Shang Tsung kidnapped you, which is to say not well at all.

"No joke, he went full Kool-Aid man on the door and then an entire wall! I thought Baraka was gonna pop a vein, not that I blame him seeing his gal was taken from him."

You stammered to Johnny that Baraka was upset because his friend was taken. Although the way your snakes went to cover your warm cheeks said otherwise. To change the subject, please ask who the newcomer is. The woman introduces herself as Ashrah before asking if you are Zateran, the same as Syzoth. You explain that you look like a reptilian because of Shang Tsung, which causes your snakes to hiss and writhe angrily to reflect your mood.

The group eventually catches you up on everything you missed, including how they came across Ashrah, Quan-chi's involvement with Shang Tsung, creating something called "Ermac" made from the souls of the Living Forest, and their daring escape at the festival. You were surprised to hear Syzoth held his own against Tanya AND Princess Kitana. It also didn't slip your notice how flustered your reptiloid friend seemed when Ashrah praised him for his bravery. Although that was another matter for a, hopefully, better time. You, in return, also share your experience of being held captive at Ying's fortress.

You explained how you deeply regretted not splitting Shang Tsung from the groin to the gullet before Kuai Liang invited you to The Fire Temple to wait for Lord Liu Kang's return. You acquiesce, only asking for parchment and quill to pass the time. You finished tying your ribbon around your letter when Lord Liu Kang entered. When the latter explains how he must inform and prove Empress Sindel about Shang Tsung and Quan-chi's evildoings, you immediately offer to assist the Fire God. You cite that your presence with Lui Kang would provide more credibility to his claims as he tries to convince Sindel of Shang Tsung and Quan-chi's true intentions.

Your prediction is true when you and the Fire God enter through the portal gate, only to be greeted by Li Mei and the rest of Sun Do's constables. The First Constable does a double take when seeing your masked face but with your hood down. She learned from General Shao about your monstrous mutations and subsequent betrayal, but she didn't want to believe either. Li Mei knew that you were steadfast in your loyalties to Sindel and her daughters, but to see you so utterly transformed... Another problem for another time.

Li Mei, understandably, was reluctant to hear Liu Kang's claims about the Deadly Alliance and General Shao's conspiracy against the throne. However, at your insistence and reminding her how you, too, had your counsel ignored by Sindel despite your best intentions, Li Mei is quick to catch on.

"I knew he couldn't be trusted!"

"I wish I had known that sooner."

Liu Kang then explains how Shang Tsung treated Mileena's Tarkat symptoms, gaining Sindel's favor to get close to the throne. You describe to Li Mei that after Shang Tsung treated Mileena's Tarkat symptoms, you partnered with the Sorcerer to study Tarkat near the Wastes. You had hoped to finally find a cure, only for that Snake to use your research for his twisted experiments, adding how you still can taste the air of that dungeon. Li Mei, not wanting to let down the royal family again, agrees to assist the Fire God with his goal. She also agrees to have one of her constables deliver a letter you wrote for Baraka to the Wastes, which lets him in on everything that transpired and that you're well. It also lets him know you intend to save the Empire and Outworld.

P.S. I was told by Mister Cage about your concern after my kidnapping.

On the way to Sun Do's palace, you and Lord Liu Kang fill the First Constable with everything you know about General Shao's plans and his part in the conspiracy. When Reiko and some of his subordinates, including Motaro, block your path, all of you spring into action against Outworld's soldiers. You rip off your mask to turn some of the soldiers into stone before biting into one that tried to grab you from behind, who then falls to the ground, coughing blood. You duck and weave between soldiers, letting your snakes bite into exposed flesh. This turns the soldiers into what you could only describe as living blood trees. Occasionally, you would be able to help Li Mei in her fight against Reiko, mainly offering her medical aid before hopping back into the foray.

After Li Mei defeats Reiko, all of you left the site before reinforcements could arrive. Not long after entering the palace's Hanging Gardens, you and your companions are surrounded by Tanya and the Umgadi. You plead with Tanya to listen to what Li Mei has to say, reminding her that you, too, are concerned for the royal family and helped treat Mileena's condition. Yet, while Tanya hesitates briefly, it doesn't stop her from fighting Li Mei. It doesn't surprise you that the former Umgadi wins against the younger warrior priestess. You kept your mask on as more Umgadi arrived on the scene, even as they enclosed you with their spears. You're glad you did when Li Mei passionately urged the rest of her former sisters-in-arms to stand with her to save the empire.

The Umgadi heeded Li Mei's words and escorted the rest of you to Empress Sindel's throne room, with a bound Tanya walking beside you and Li Mei. You had to bite your tongue when Sindel immediately accuses her former friend of trying to destroy the rest of her family by allying herself with Earthrealm's protector. You let out a hiss and let down your hood to show your Empress your new form.

"My Empress, I implore you, for onccce, to listen to what an actual friend and ally have to say before making blind accusationsss."

When Sindel asks who are you to talk to her like that, you reveal to her that it's you, her Imperial Healer and friend. A friend who has wanted nothing more than the best for the royal house and Outworld. Who, because of Shang Tsung, you are like this, and because she was blinded by anger and grief, you feared telling her all of this sooner. The Empress was left speechless at your emboldened words and appearance. Li Mei then assures Sindel that you and her are here to help her, even if she'll never forgive Li Mei. As the Empress appears to pause to consider her friends' words, Tanya tries to strangle Li Mei with her ropes. You are forced to fight against the rest of the Umgadi, including one that could've been your sister. You'd be lying if you said you didn't get some twisted satisfaction at landing some blows on the "perfect" daughter your mother used to brag about despite never knowing.

When Mileena decided to fight against Li Mei, you felt panic grip your heart as you watched their fight get progressively more aggressive.

"Mileena! DON'T!"

You treated enough Tarkatans to know where this could lead, especially with emotions high mixed with adrenaline. In most of these sorts of instances, the afflicted would stop sparring or fighting and start brutally tearing into one another out of pure rage. You had to treat many Tarkatans because of these injuries if you didn't sedate them fast enough. However, you were out of tranquilizers at the moment, which is especially unfortunate when Mileena's symptoms manifest, and she then pounces on her mother. You quickly run over to Empress Sindel's aid, mask off, but Mileena wouldn't look you in the eye as she claws at your face, knocking you to your side. Fortunately, Li Mei rips off the feral princess and tosses her away from both of you.

While Li Mei was occupied with Mileena, you inquired about Sindel's health and if she had any injuries. Sindel replies that she's fine, more concerned about the scratches on your face. You answer that they aren't deep and you'll heal before putting your mask back on. You shout at Tanya to grab Mileena's serum and to hurry while the latter is still engaged in kombat with Li Mei. The Empress then apologizes for making you feel like you couldn't be open to her and unable to imagine what you went through. You reply to Sindel that you wish you had come to her sooner, but it wasn't all bad. You got to work with the colony out in the Wastes, where you had gathered a well of information and improved their conditions a little, but there's still a long way to go. You also found friends at the Colony, with you being closest to the leader of the said colony, who accepted you for all your new deformities. Sindel raises a brow at the fondness in your voice when mentioning Baraka but doesn't comment on it.

After Li Mei finally subdues Mileena, you and Sindel sit beside Mileena on both sides to support her as Tanya injects her with the serum. You don't miss the soft look shared between Mileena and Tanya, but you don't comment.

Finally, Liu Kang had an audience with the Empress, who is still suspicious of the Fire God for seemingly sending minions on secret missions into her Empire. After the Fire God makes his case, he offers to show Sindel proof of his claim at Shang Tsung's laboratory. You grimace at the thought of returning to that horrid place but willingly return for the sake of the royal family and your friend.

A/N: Remember to like, reblog, and or comment! I love to hear y'alls thoughts and that includes my inbox too. Thanks for being patient with me (for the most part) as I've been busy with midterms so I wasn't exactly able to take some time to write. I hope this makes up for it! Stay weird, my fellow humans.

[lavenoon]

Accidentally Undercover - Being a secret agent is a risk, and not a small one

But of course, the story doesn't end there:

It’s still rather early in the morning when his phone vibrates - twice, so not work. That’s something. Everything else can’t be too terribly urgent, so Sun takes his time buttoning up his vest. The matching jacket completes the look, and a glance towards the mirror proves it’s a good one. Perfect. 

Now it’s time to see just who texted him - there aren’t too many options, really. Apart from various automated messages, the only one occasionally texting him would be - 

You.. 

Hi Sun, sorry to ditch you for a while, I’ll be at the hospital for a couple days at least. Appendicitis - hurts like a bitch. If anything happens at home, if it’s not urgent I’ll handle it when I’m back. If it is urgent, you have my express permission to handle it however you see fit. Just don’t burn the house down. 

Toodles,

And signed with your name. So the house being quieter than usual wasn’t just his imagination, or Moon’s, well… He’ll forgive the cursing, too, considering the circumstances. While they fortunately are exempt from ever experiencing appendicitis, they do know just how debilitating the pain can be. For a civilian at that! Maybe he doesn’t know what you work as exactly, but he doubts you encounter pain at your workplace. Hopes it, too.

He types a quick reply, wishing you a speedy recovery, and that he has the house handled - it’s in good condition, so really, a few days will be nothing. 

Finally, Sun addresses the silent presence in his head with a thoughtful hum. 

“I wonder if we should organize a get-well-soon basket. Should I ask what hospital they are staying at?” 

‘...’

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. But at past 8am Moon still isn’t in rest mode - if he insists on staying awake, he can suffer Sun making conversation.

“I know you two never personally met, but they are still your landlord, too!” 

And still Moon remains silent, heavy tension settling in their head. Of course Sun knows what this is about. He may have gotten only a rather clipped rundown of last night’s events, but he knows why they would weigh on his counterpart. 

“Or perhaps you are still worried about someone else?” 

It’s not quite movement, trapped within their thoughts, but he finally feels Moon stir. Got him.

‘I’m not worried.’

Sun doesn’t even consider entertaining that notion. Just a little more…

“No, you’re just brooding so much the entire house feels like a nest. Someone missing his pet bird?” 

There he is.

‘I am not brooding! I’m angry, because the idiot got hurt - they should have been more careful, they know better! They’ve been at this for so much longer than us, as they so kindly remind me almost nightly, and still -!’ 

Wordless frustration saturates him, and only the thought that it isn’t his keeps him from falling down the same rabbit hole of negativity Moon is currently residing in. As it is, Sun gives him the space, and after a moment the emotional wave ebbs away. Still lingering in the far corners of his awareness, but no longer threatening to overtake him, too. 

‘... I’m angry at myself, too. I was right there, I saw, and I didn’t - I didn’t do anything. Just let them get hurt. I should have done something, anything. Pull them away, knock out the guy who literally took a stab at them, I don’t even know - something! And now I won’t even know what happened to them after I took them back to headquarters, because of these stupid secret identities, and I have to wait for them to come back, and… And that’s if they come back.’ 

And Moon wonders just why Sun doesn’t care much for this alleged rivalry - the care with which he speaks of Robin is palpable even under the most mundane circumstances. After all, there really isn’t a reason even Sun would need to know the history behind all their scars. (He is somewhat impressed - their little rival has racked up quite a record on their skin. But he has no doubt that this stab wound will join the list of “tried to kill them and failed”). 

He sets in for a reply - but then Moon interrupts him, subdued. 

‘They have to come back. They have to. This wasn’t supposed to happen.’

Sun rotates his faceplate with a click, then hums again. 

“I’m sure they will be fine, and you can discuss sharing your secret identities during your next shared mission. Quite the intimacy, if I do say so myself ~”

He can feel Moon bristle, and squints happily. Got him. 

‘Wha- We’re not sharing our identities! That’s against the rules and you know it!’

Continuing to hum, he pats down his pockets and looks around the room for the last of his necessary gadgets. 

“Well, you’re the one complaining about the inconvenience. Would rather spend the nights at their bedside -”

‘Will you shut up!’ 

By now he’s laughing freely, glad to have distracted Moon from his own gloomy thoughts. Now he’ll at least be receptive for reassurance. 

“You can always ask the higher ups to deliver a message for you, and who knows, maybe you’ll get one back. Or a gift basket! I’ll go buy some things for our dear landlord after my shift, I can wake you then, and you can pick some supplies for your little bird!” 

Hard to keep a secret when you share a mind - Sun can feel him consider the suggestion, though his continued silence does its best to convince him otherwise. After a long moment, a sigh echoes through their head. 

‘... Fine. But I need you to stop by the pet store, too, and buy some bird food.’

Sun chuckles, but doesn’t get to tease - Moon is in rest mode before he can get another word out. Amused, he shakes his head, leaving the house with still a few minutes to spare in his schedule, despite the delay. 

Rivals, of course.

Y/N, high on painkillers while recovering from a stab wound, receiving two gift baskets: What.

[autolovecraft]

What else, he added, could ever in any case be proved or believed?

That he was not an evil man. Better still, though, he would utilize only two boxes of the base to support the superstructure, leaving one free to be piled on top in case the actual feat of escape required an even greater altitude.

At last the spring thaw came, and graves were laboriously prepared for the nine silent harvests of the grim reaper which waited in the tomb. He had not forgotten the criticism aroused when Hannah Bixby's relatives, wishing to transport her body to the cemetery in the city whither they had moved, found the casket of Judge Capwell beneath her headstone.

Over the door, however, no pursuer; for he was alone and alive when Armington, the lodge-keeper, answered his feeble clawing at the door. His day's work was sadly interrupted, and unless chance presently brought some rambler hither, he might have to remain all night or longer.

Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch. The body was pretty badly gone, but if ever I saw vindictiveness on any face—or former face.

There was nothing like a ladder in the tomb. Birch cautiously ascended with his tools and stood abreast of the narrow transom. He was just dizzy and careless enough to annoy his sensitive horse, which as he drew it viciously up at the tomb neighed and pawed and tossed its head, much as on that former occasion when the rain had vexed it. You kicked hard, for Asaph's coffin was on the floor. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. It was generally stated that the affliction and shock were results of an unlucky slip whereby Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley; and was a very calloused and primitive specimen even as such specimens go. Horrible pains, as of savage wounds, shot through his calves; and in his mind was a vortex of fright mixed with an unquenchable materialism that suggested splinters, loose nails, or some other attribute of a breaking wooden box. The hungry horse was neighing repeatedly and almost uncannily, and he did not heed the day at all; so that he was wise in so doing. Birch was lax, insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not perfectly sober, he subsequently admitted; though he had not then taken to the wholesale drinking by which he later tried to forget certain things. The skull turned my stomach, but the other was worse—those ankles cut neatly off to fit Matt Fenner's cast-aside coffin!

He was the devil incarnate, Birch, just as I thought! The practices I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. This arrangement could be ascended with a minimum of awkwardness, and would furnish the desired height. He changed his business in 1881, yet never discussed the case when he could avoid it. After a full two hours Dr. Davis left, urging Birch to insist at all times that his wounds were caused entirely by loose nails and splintering wood.

He cried aloud once, and a little later gave a gasp that was more terrible than a cry. His thinking processes, once so phlegmatic and logical, had become ineffaceably scarred; and it was pitiful to note his response to certain chance allusions such as Friday, Tomb, Coffin, and words of less obvious concatenation.

[marilynmonroefanfics]

My Cinnamon Roll

You were a new boy in town. Your parents moved to Gotham searching got better opportunities.

They quickly enrolled you in Gotham City School. You were you were so happy to start a new life and adored your new school.

However you couldn't hide your shyness nor nervousness. In your first day you knocked at your classes' door and prayed for the best.

“Please come in.” said the teacher.

“H-Hi, I'm Y/N L/N.”

“Oh! You must be the new student!”

After getting done with the introductions, the teacher ordered you to seat next to a certian Damian Wayne.

His bule eyes locked with yours and you couldn't read his expression, he seemed quite mysterious.

You introduced yourself to him, but he simply responded with a simples "My name's Damian.”

Throught the next weeks you were able to make a few friends and proved yourself to be a good student. The teachers quite liked you, you were a very dedicated boy.

There was also a certain boy who also had their eyes on you. You were a quiet boy who never bothered him (because you thought he didn't like you). Damain found himself peeking at you during class, when he was sure you didn't noticed of course.

He found it insanely cute how you would bite your lip when in deep concentration. He would find himself looking at you when you were doing something on the board, and maybe look at your fat booty (he's a horny teenager).

Anyhow, he didn't speak to you, the poor baby found his new emotions too overwhelming.

You were such a cute cinnamon roll, he was perfectly content on watching from afar.

But one day everything change, you see there were some boys in your class. Troublemakers, who pocked fun at you, at first you dismissed their comments, but one day they took it a step forward.

At recess they corner you and start making fun of you, making fun about your chubby body and just being extremely rude. One of the bullies punched you in the stomach making you fall to the ground in pain.

Since his new found feelings for you, Damian had been keeping a close eye on you, when he saw boys approach you, he was on full alert mode.

And one one of them punched he lost his goddamn mind.

Damian went full Mortal Kombal mode on those fuckers, he beated their asses so bad they had to go to the infirmary.

Naturally you two ended in the principal's office. Damian quickly explained what had happened, defending you quite brightly in the process.

The principal understood, simply calling your parents and ordering you two to go home.

After that you become really good friends, kid in the school actually respected you and the bullies didn't even looked at you, Damian would kindly beat their asses again if they did.

He insisted in being with you at all times, you had lunch together, studied in the library together, etc...

Damain opened up to you, as you did to him. You found his dry humor really funny, he was actually a great guy.

One day you decided to thank him for being such a great friend, so, you baked him his favourite cake.

You knocked on the Manor's, waiting patietly.

An unknow figure greeted you.

“Hello buddy, who are you? And is that a cake?”

“H-Hello I'm Y/N. I'm Damian's friend.”

“Ooooh so you're Y/N? Come on in! I'm Dick, Damian's older brother.”

Dick guided you to the living room, where you were also greeted by their butler, Alfred.

Dick offered to go get Damian for you.

“DAMIAN YOUR CRUSH IS HERE!”

Poor Damian, at the speed of lighting he was there, blushing madly.

“S-Shut up, Grayson!”

“Master Dick, I think it's best to leave Master Damian alone with his friend.”

Finally alone, you explained why you came to his house with the cake.

“I just...wanted to thank you for everything, Damian.”

Damian was so happy, the poor boy get like his heart would burst.

That day you ended up in Damian's bedroom having fun and eating cake. What more was not to love?

He was so shy when confessing his love, bless his heart.

“I love you, Y/N. My cute cinnamon roll.”

You ended up leaving the Manor with a belly full of cake and a boyfriend.

Dick started teasing the hell out of Damian from that point on.

[interlunium-opus]

"I hate him spending time with you more than I hate running so you know, priorities." [ Jay. ]

[ Jay | fluff ]

Author’s Note: Here's a fluff in response to the following request "Can you maybe do a fluff/crack for Jay where maybe he felt a little jealous when you praised someone for their skill and he immediately goes competitive mode and openly tries to show how he's far better indirectly to the guy?" Hope it's close to what you have in mind and hope you like it :3

“Do you have anything to explain to me?”

You jumped, startled, as Jay appeared beside you while you were busy shoving your textbooks into your locker, “Jay! What did I say about sneaking up on people?”

“And what did I say about not keeping secrets between us?” Jay snapped back, arms crossed, brows raised, “Is this how much our friendship is worth?”

“My goodness, what is it this time?” You sighed as he fished his phone out of his pocket, turning it to show you a candid picture of you and Sunghoon from last night.

“I mean seriously, of all people to date, you have to go for this pretentious prick?” Jay scoffed before gesticulating wildly, “Look, I know I said that you need to stop being aromantic and start planting some sort romantic interest somewhere — but Sunghoon is just ain't it. In fact ! I’d rather you date the spawn of the devil, Jungwon, instead.”

You snorted a laugh before shaking your head dismissively, “Dude, we were just running last night okay? Does that even look like a date to you?”

“Okay,” he repeated sarcastically, “but you love running alone! So why are you suddenly running with someone — and not just anyone but this prick???”

“I really don’t get why you two hate each other so much,” you raised an eyebrow at Jay, “Look we just happened to bump into each other last night and since we were heading the same way, he asked if I don’t mind him tagging along for the remainder of the way — no big deal.”

“Ughh, that’s the oldest trick in book,” Jay scrunched his face, “And you said yes?”

“I mean — we’re not exactly strangers, we have been in the same tutorial class together for more than a year now," you mumbled as you zip your bag up, "He's a good running partner too. His pace was so stable and steady that it made me stuck to mine as well — I mean, duh, he's an athlete after all."

"Hey, I can run well too," Jay grumbled defensively, "You know if you needed a running partner, you could've called me right?"

“Maybe if you were as fit as I am, she would have,” Sunghoon suddenly appeared beside Jay, peering over his shoulder to look at the picture on his phone, “That’s a good picture of me and y/n — no wonder you got jealous.”

“Speak of the devil,” Jay rolled his eyes, “Aren't you a bit too greedy over what I have? first, you took up my spot for the dance competition and now you're trying to make a move on my girl."

"Jay, that was 2 years ago — get over it. You've taken my spot afterwards for the Summer competition anyway so we're actually even," Sunghoon retorted, "Also, she's not your girlfriend anyway so your territorial behaviour is pretty misplaced."

"Guys, cut it out," you shut your locker close with extra force in an effort to shut the squabbles, "Also, why am I suddenly dragged into your petty fights."

"Right sorry about that, he's just always trying to pick a fight with me," Sunghoon shook his head dismissively before turning to you and beamed, "Just stopping by to ask if you're running again tonight 'cause I would love to join again. It’s off season for ice-skating so I thought it's the perfect time to get back to running again."

“Oh? Yeah I am going tonight as well, just a tad bit late in the evening though. I want to finish up some work at the library first,” you smiled back at Sunghoon, ignoring Jay’s burning stare, “You know you can start ahead if you want — don’t want you waiting too long in case I'll take too much time at the library.”

“I’ll go when you go, don’t worry,” he reassured as he backed away, joining Heeseung who was waiting for him, “I’ll text you alright? Looking forward to tonight!”

You nodded and waved at him before turning to Jay, “What?”

“That’s it,” Jay clasped his hands together, “I’ll run with you tonight — and the next.”

“Jay, don’t be ridiculous, you hate running,” you emphasized, “which is why I never asked you to run with me.”

“Hey — I can love running if it’s for you,” he winked, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, dragging you past the crowded hallway towards your next class, “Or let me paraphrase: I hate him spending time with you more than I hate running so you know, priorities.”

“your priorities are all skewed then," you clicked your tongue, "Well, as long as you don't hurt yourself."

_________________________________________________________________________

The next morning however Jay did not show up in Modern Political Thought seminar that you guys have every Thursday morning. Though the guy is such a sleepyhead, he never misses a class even when he pulled up an all-nighter the night before. So this sudden absence, paired with the fact that he managed to run a whole 5km without stopping last night, was sowing seeds of suspicions and guilt within you. To make things worse, he did not even respond to any of your messages for the last 5 hours.

That was why you ended up being in front of Jay's apartment instead of having your lunch that noon. "Hi!" you immediately say as the door of Jay's apartment opened. It was Jake, his flatmate, with his lids only half-opened and hair all disheveled, "y/n?"

"Sorry for waking you up Jake," you smiled apologetically, "Is Jay home? He missed a Politics seminar this morning and he didn’t respond to my text at all — just wanna make sure he’s alright.”

“mmhmm, pretty sure he’s in," he answered drowsily before yawning, "but probably, still hibernating.”

“Oh okay, do you mind if I come in?”

Jake nodded, backing up as he held the door open, “Of course, come in — it’s messy though.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured, making your way towards the room at the end of the hallway. As you knocked on his door, Jake suddenly shouted from the kitchen, “don’t bother knocking y/n — that guy sleeps like a log. Just go in.”

“Uhh…” you bit your lip, slightly hesitating but relented when your subsequent knocks yielded no answer.

“Jay? I’m entering okay?” you say as you let yourself in, carefully navigating around the dark room, stumbling a few times against some random furnitures.

"Jake, get out okay-" you hear him grumble from underneath the covers, tossing the other way, "just let me... sleep mo..re."

As you neared his bed, you reached over to his bedside table and turned on the lamp. Suddenly, Jay rose from the covers, his hand gripping your wrist, grunting "Jake what did I just say-"

Trailing off, he looked at you with brows furrowed in a mix of annoyance and confusion, before his expressions gradually soften "y/n?"

"dude, you almost gave me a heart attack," you muttered, sighing exasperatedly.

"Sorry, I thought it was Jake trying to disturb me again," he softened his grip and rubbed your wrist as if he had just hurt it, "Did I hurt you?"

"My heart, almost but my hand is fine," you pulled your hand away, "How about you?"

"What about me?"

"You missed class this morning," you crossed your arms.

"It's just one class, no big deal. I just overslept-"

"Is that all?" you raised an eyebrow before pointing at the crumpled muscle relief patch packs and pain relief creams strewn messily across his bedside table, "Did someone overexert himself last night?"

"Fine, I didn't come to class partly because my legs are sore," he shrugged, "but hey, I ran as much as Sunghoon did! Aren't you proud of me?"

"Not if it's at the cost of your legs!" you replied exasperatedly, "Come on, where is the rational Jay that I know? he wouldn't have let his competitiveness and ego cloud his judgements like this."

"It's just normal post-workout sore, I've had it a couple of times before," he reassured, "Also, I may hate running. But I'm actually good at HIIT and strength training so I'm not all that unfit as you think I am. Or he thinks."

"All that just so you can prove him wrong?"

"No of course not, I couldn't care less about him," he huffed, "I just wanted you to know that I can pace well with you too."

"Jay, that does not make it any better-"

"Probably also to convince you that I make a better running partner than Sunghoon," he sniggered.

"Well, guess what, you can't run if your legs are hurt," you quipped.

"Oh shit, that's true," he muttered under his breath, "Well post-workout sore usually last between 3-7 days so I'll be good as new after that. Running partners?" he stretched his hand out as if asking for a handshake.

You sighed, grabbing his outstretched hand, shaking it as if you guys are signing on a pact, "Only if you promise not to overexert yourself next time."

"Promise," his smile widened, "Have you had lunch? I'll cook something up for you."

"Your legs are hurt though."

"They're sore not hurt," Jay emphasized, scooting to the edge of his bed, "Also even if they are hurt, I cook with my hands not legs so..."

You chuckled, "Well sir, if you insists."

"Of course, wouldn't let my girl go out of this house famished," he wrapped an arm over your shoulder, grinning gleefully.

[13uswntimagines]

Protective Mamas and cuddle time (Kellex x Little!Reader)

Request: More kellex x little reader? Maybe reader gets badly injured and kellex takes care of her?

Author’s Note: IDK how i feel about this one honestly. Im going to apologize because I don’t think it’s really on par with the others, but i hope you guys enjoy it. It me up with questions and asks because they're super motivating. 

You took a deep breath, wiping the sweat away from your forehead, your eyes glued to the opposite of the field where Kelley and Abby had just stripped Jessie Fleming of the ball. 

Canada was always a particularly difficult and physical opponent and today was no exception. Your kit was stained green from the number of times you had already hit the ground and it wasn’t even halftime yet. 

Kelley looked up at you, and you nodded in response, beginning to casually move upfield and away from your defender. You watched for a second, waiting for the signal, and once you saw it, you took off upfield. 

Your defender was too far behind, and completely confused by your sudden change in direction. You glanced over your shoulder just as Kelley crossed a beautiful ball right towards you. 

It seemed to float over you. You probably could have waited 3 seconds for it to land right at your feet, but you wanted to prove a point. You wanted to show off a little. You rushed forward and leaped for it.

*****

You were very confused and entirely unsure of how you had gotten yourself into this position. You blinked up at the sky groaning. The light hurt your eyes. It was mean for the sun to interrupt your nap. That was why your mommies always made sure to close the blinds. They never made you wake up to bright lights.

 You tried to move your arm to cover your eyes, only to have it stopped by a warm hand. 

“Hey babe, you need to stay still alright?” Alex said, her face appearing upside down in your line of sight. 

Her face seemed to sway above you and the headache kicked in. It felt like you were falling, even though you were pretty sure you were laying on the ground. 

It was terrifying. 

“Wha appended?” You tried to ask. Your eyebrows furrowed at how slurred it sounded and how difficult it was for you to get them out. 

Alex brought her hand to your cheek, lightly running her finger along your lips. She could tell you were slipping. “Shh babydoll,” 

You tried in vain to lean into her touch, to wiggle just a little to be closer to her. Just the little movement caused pain to flare up in your hand and all the way down your side. Kelley also appeared above you, gently pushing your shoulders to keep you on the ground. 

“Mama, it hurt,” You whined, tears coming to your eyes as you again tried to sit up and squirm away from the medic who was now kneeling on your other side. 

“I know, but you gotta let Lena help you,” Kelley said, carefully pinning the arm next to her on the ground so you didn’t try to bat the medic’s hand away like you had last time. You whined loudly. 

She shared a look with Alex. The team didn’t like to share who exactly amongst them was little with the world. It helped them to protect you and maintain some form of privacy. With you dropping, there was a good chance it could have the rest of the littles on the team dropping too (a disastrous situation that they would very much like to avoid). 

Your girlfriends also didn’t like that you were in enough pain to send you crashing down into little space either. You were a tough cookie, so it had to be pretty bad. 

“Hey Y/n can you tell me where it hurts?” The green-eyed medic asked softly, using the voice she would use if her own little one was hurt. 

You squinted. Your ability to verbalize your thoughts was slowly dwindling as you sank deeper into little space. 

Alex ran her thumbs over your cheek again, trying to help you stay grounded enough to answer. “Come on babydoll, you gotta tell her so she can help you,” Kelley added, rubbing your arm. 

“My head an my tummy,” You mumbled. 

Lena nodded at you, very carefully lifting up your shirt to take a peek at the bruised skin. She shook her head at your girlfriends and motioned to Vlatko that you were definitely gonna need to be subbed off the field. “Ok kiddo, we’re gonna get you off the field and get you all fixed up alright?” 

“Mama come?” you asked as they loaded you onto the stretcher, still very out of it. 

“Mama and mommy have to stay here, but Aunt Becky is gonna go to the back with you while we get you checked out,” Kelley said, kissing your forehead, and brushing a strand of hair out of your face. 

It wasn’t even halftime yet and the team only had 3 subs to use. All three of you couldn’t leave the field, no matter how much Alex and Kelley wanted to go with you. 

“Otay,” You said, your voice very far away. 

“We’ll come to check on you right after we finish,” Alex added as they moved you off the field. 

Both women watched you go, shaking their heads to try and get themselves back into game mode instead of worried mama mode. Big you wouldn’t be happy if they lost because you had to get taken off the field. 

****

“Alright darling, let’s get you all comfy,” Kelley said, opening the hotel room door and holding it so Alex could carry you inside. 

The game had ended with two more goals (one by Alex and another by Christen) both of which happened to go right past the defender whose sloppy playing had gotten you taken off the field. And the ride back to the hotel had been quiet and uneventful. Frankly, the hardest part was getting you cleaned up and changed out of your practice kit and into something a little more comfortable for the bus.

You had tried to be cooperative (a testament to how much pain you were in) but between the nausea from your concussion and your bruised ribs you weren’t that much help. Though the skin-on-skin contact in the shower had soothed you a little. 

“Baba?” You asked sleepily into your mommy’s shoulder, lisping around the pacifier in your mouth. 

“Yeah babydoll, we’ll get you a bottle,” Alex hummed, kissing the crown of your head and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

It was rare that you were this little. You usually hovered around 3 and a half or 4, and typically preferred sippy cups to bottles. They didn’t mind you were younger today, it made you more cuddly. 

“Alright kiddo, Batman or Nasa?” Kelley asked softly, swatting in front of you and Alex, holding up both sets of footy pajamas. Little you hated to sleep in sweats. 

You peeked out from your mommy’s shoulder, squinting at your choices. The NASA one was cool, it had a little hood that looked like a space helmet, but the Batman one had a cape. 

“Batman,” You mumbled after a few seconds, going back into your favorite hiding spot. Your girlfriends shared an indulgent smile. 

Alex gently rubbed your back, before bringing a hand up to carefully remove you from her neck. “Batman it is, let’s get you changed,” 

You tensed but allowed her to coax you back out. You let out a low whine as Alex helped you turn around in her lap. That whine got more insistent when Kelley encouraged you to lift up your hips so she could bet your sweats off. The small movement caused your ribs to ache and burn. You wiggled away from the pain, only making it worse.

“Easy baby,” Alex said into your ear, a hand moving to rub little circles on your belly to help calm you. They both waited for you to stop squirming before they very quickly finished helping you change. “there we go,” Alex hummed as Kelley finished pulling up the zipper and passed you your favorite stuffed dinosaur. 

“You cuddle with mommy and I’ll get you your bottle,” Kelley said, lightly throwing your cape over your face and earning a little giggle (followed by a whine when it hurt your ribs to laugh as a glare from Alex).

“Uddle wit mommy,” you nodded, letting Alex maneuver you back to get under the covers and into a more comfortable cuddling position. 

Alex smiled softly at you, helping you to tuck yourself back into her taller form and get Roary situated next to you before pulling up one of your favorite movies on the television- Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. 

Kelley rolled her eyes at the opening chords of the movie. The three of you had watched it so much that she could probably (and would probably because you liked it) quote the whole thing word for word. She pulled the bottle of milk from the microwave, shaking it and testing it on her wrist to make sure it wasn’t too hot. 

“There you go darling,” Kelley said, hanging you the bottle and climbing into the bed next to you. You shifted a little, making sure that both you and Roary were comfortable (and that he wasn’t blocking your view). 

“Tank you,” You murmured, proud that mommy didn’t have to nudge you to remember your manners. 

“You’re welcome,” Kelley smiled, kissing your forehead. You wiggled again, and Alex rolled her eyes. Trying to keep you still for the next however many weeks was going to be a nightmare. 

“Shh, baby just relax. We’ll take care of you,” Alex said, helping you shift and bring her hand to the back of your neck. She rubbed little circles onto the skin and very gently combed her fingers through your baby hairs. 

It only took her a few minutes to have your head dropping further into Kelley’s shoulder and your eyes slipping shut. 

“Wove mama and mommy,” You said already half asleep, lisping around your pacifier. 

“We love you too baby,” They said together. They loved you more than anything and they were going to make sure you didn’t rush your recovery. 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 5

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader (Gender neutral) Rating: T for language and mentions/references to an (emotionally) abusive relationship. Mild, brief violence. Warnings: TW for referenced emotional abuse, mild TW for possible physical abuse (sorry, angry Dani is not 100% gentle with people she doesn't love-love) Notes: Music for this chapter here. If you're following this story and really want to continue reading, but worry about the TWs for this chapter, just send me an anonymous message and I'll write up an alternative version of this post. It's not something I would do without it being requested, but it's also not a big deal so don't feel like you're bothering me if you want that. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Tocatta

Chapter 5: Poco a Poco (Italian: Little by little)

Finding a schedule for lessons to follow proved to be an insurmountable task. Consistency was something that Daniela struggled with greatly, even when it came to things that she genuinely cared about. Things like ensuring you lived long enough to entertain her. Instead of working with you to find a balance that worked for both of you, the youngest Dimitrescu daughter seemed intent on doing things in her own time. Little by little. Which would have been fine, if the two of you weren’t restricted by time.

Fate wasn’t entirely unkind, however. There were still a few things that Daniella recalled from her “youth”, bits and pieces of musical theory, the bare basics of reading sheet music. Not having to teach her proper posture or the structure of a piano would save you a little bit of time. On top of that, you had been informed that, somewhere in the castle, there were a few books of sheet music you could borrow. Assuming you were eventually able to find them, that is. So far they had eluded you, but you hadn’t even had much time to search, as you were still expected to perform your usual Maiden-related tasks.

In the end, it was Daniela herself that proved to be the biggest obstacle in your way.

“Look,” Daniela said one day, barely ten minutes into a lesson, “I think we should take a break… maybe have some fun?” One of her hands is resting on top of yours, the other tucking your hair behind your ear. There’s a smirk on her lips, unsurprisingly, and she’s mere inches away from kissing you. If not for the heavy threat hanging over your head, you would have already thrown yourself into her arms. Instead, all you can do is sigh, turning away from her as you do. “Don’t be like that, sweet thing. C’mon, no one can hear us right now. Might as well enjoy ourselves.”

“Babe. Darling. Buttercup, honey, cute little button on a bear, you are not the brightest bulb in the lighting department,” you replied, holding the bridge of your nose between two fingers. Instantly Daniela is upset, giving you a (thankfully) playful smack on the arm. Before she can protest more you continue speaking. “Your family would not hear us making out, true, but they would definitely hear us not playing the piano. I’m pretty sure your mother already thinks I’m doomed to fail as a teacher, and the last thing I need is to give her a reason to drop the curtains this early into our performance.”

“First of all, I am not an idiot,” Daniela said, a bit of a growl to her voice. “Secondly, what harm can a few minutes really do? Don’t you think I’ve been working hard enough to earn a little reward?” Now she’s holding a finger under your chin, lifting it up, making sure you’re looking right at her. There’s no dissuading her, it seems, as she leans in for a soft kiss. This was one of the more frustrating aspects of dealing with (courting?) her; communication felt like a one-man play, except the audience was as likely to throw knives as rotten tomatoes. Whenever Daniela acted like this, pushing away your concerns in favor of her pleasure, it felt helpless to try and resist her.

So you kissed back, wrapped your arms around her, and hoped that she’d be more open to compromise afterwards. At least kissing her was nice. Even though it had only been a week since you first kissed her, she was already getting better, evidently learning through experience. The passion behind her movements had grown as well, leaving you a tad breathless. Regardless of her odd perception of romance, and her insistence that she knew best, you found yourself charmed by her. It was scary. Terrifying, really, how you felt yourself falling under her spell. Wait. Hadn’t you been in this sort of situation before?... Staying with someone who wasn’t good for you? Why were you kissing her? Why were you starting to tremble, tears in your eyes, mind falling down a slippery slope of memories?

By the time you snap out of it, you’re sitting on the floor, Daniela awkwardly kneeling by your side. What the fuck? You think, sniffling a little. Head spinning, mind reeling, you struggle to form coherent thoughts. Next to you Daniela is unsure of how to help. But she’s trying, sort of, one hand holding your own, the other gently rubbing your back. She’s saying something, the words going right over your head. Understanding her takes times, focus, like tuning an instrument until the pitch is just right.

“I don’t understand, we were only kissing, what happened? Can you even hear me? Is this your way of tricking me into not making out with you? Because that’s a total dick move and-” she rambles, only stopping when you give her hand a soft squeeze. Then she’s meeting your gaze, looking uncomfortable, shoulders tense. “You’ve been weird for a while. Distant. Like you don’t want to touch me anymore. Don’t you still love me?”

There’s real, honest pain in her eyes when she speaks. If the timing had been different… you’d have thrown your arms around her and covered her face in kisses, promising to hold her onto she felt better, promising that yes you cared. You cared so fucking much. But she’s making you exhausted; every second has to be focused on her, not you. Every moment of concern is flipped around until she’s the victim, or at least the one that needs comforting. You didn’t think that she even realized what she was doing. Well, you hoped that she didn’t, wanted to believe that if she understood she’d change.

“Remember the first day we kissed?... how you pulled me close, and I kissed you harder, and we started…. Remember how I made a move and you pushed me away? I’ll never forget the look on your face. I felt like shit afterwards. I should have asked before I tried anything,” you explain, letting go of Daniela’s hand so you could pull your knees to your chest. Somehow you can’t bring yourself to maintain eye contact with her- not right now, not when you could still remember what it felt like to be on her side of this story. “I don’t want to push your boundaries, or make you feel pressured to do something you don’t want to do. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you like that.”

“Oh bullshit,” Daniela snarled, shocking you, before getting to her feet. Confusion doesn’t begin to describe how you feel in the moment as you watch her pace back and forth. Both her hands are clenched into fists, and she’s refusing to look at you. There’s a buzzing sound in the room, faint but growing louder, like she’s a split second away from entering swarm mode. “We’re a couple, aren’t we? Shouldn’t you be able to tell what I want? Shouldn’t it be obvious what I desire, when I’m pinning you to the wall and shoving my tongue down your throat? What more do you require?”

“Holy shit, Dani, I know communication isn’t your forte, but have you really not even considered talking to me? That’s simple, easy, literally the first thing that should come to mind!” You snapped, too in disbelief to keep your voice down. For a moment Daniela stops her pacing, turning to stare at you with narrowed eyes. If you weren’t so mad, you’d be convinced she was ready to kill you. But she doesn’t move to grab her sickle, or otherwise advance on you, instead groaning and tugging on her own hair in frustration.

“Because that’s not romantic, genius!” She replied. Some dots start to connect in your mind, but you lack the full context, as if looking at sheet music with no clefs or time signature. It’s not until Daniela continues that you really understand; and, by extension, realize just how ridiculous this whole mess is. “None of the books I’ve read involve conversations like this. People just… they just love each other! And figure it out as they go along, reading each other’s body language and facial expressions, inferring what they need to know through touches and reactions. Why can’t we do that?”

“This isn’t a fucking book, dumbass! I don’t have powers like you, I can’t just read your mind and figure out what you want. That’s not how relationships work! Communication is key. And you can’t just talk, you have to listen, hard, and understand,” you continued, still on the floor, heart pounding so furiously you thought it might leap from your chest at any moment. As angry as you are, you wonder if you’re being too loud, too angry, wonder if there was a better way to get through to Daniela. Before you can think of a solution the air is ripped from your lungs. Your “partner”/student is grabbing you by the front of your shirt, yanking you to your feet. Instinct makes you struggle against her, as useless as it is.

“I. Told. You. I’m not an idiot!” Her free hand comes up to your face, cupping your cheek for a moment, then pulling away just as fast. When it moves back up she’s gripping onto her sickle. The sharp edge ends up resting against your neck, the slightest movement threatening to cut you open. This is the most Daniela has ever openly threatened you, and in that moment all your anger melts back into fear, tears spilling down your cheeks. A flicker of something shows in her eyes, making you think that even she doesn’t like where this is going. “Give me one reason not to end this right now.”

“... I don’t… I can’t think. I… Why would you?” The words leave you in a rush, even with the pauses, and each syllable makes the sickle press into your skin a little more. There’s sure to be a cut there, though you can’t even begin to estimate how bad it is. The blade is sharp, clearly, and it hardly even hurts as it slices you. Thankfully the sensation doesn’t last long. Once you’re done speaking, Daniela’s grip loosens considerably, hand slowly letting your shirt go. Her other hand takes a few seconds to move, but eventually pulls away without any fuss. For a few seconds she just watches you, eyes filled to the brim with a rich sorrow, mouth open but unmoving.

“No lesson tomorrow. I need a break,” Daniela whispers, barely audible. Then she’s dusting herself off, no longer looking at you, and heading towards the exit. Just like the first time you met, she pauses in the doorway. “How’s that for communication, hmm?” When she laughs, it’s empty, forced. Part of you wants to stop her and ask if she’s okay.

Instead, you watch her leave, unspoken words tangling with your tongue until you almost can’t swallow.

Then your feet move, automatically, leading you to the piano. You sit down without thinking. You touch the keys without thinking. When you play, you play without thinking. It’s just a song, the world tells you, and you have no choice but to play. It’s not just a song, you know this, but you can’t think. Can’t argue against the personification of your isolation, or the embodiment of your trauma. All you can do is let yourself get lost in the music, softly, recalling lyrics from a forgotten time.

I’ve been running all my life, trying to find a place to hide ‘Thought that I had settled down, but I guess things are changing now Don’t make me go, don’t make me go Just don’t make me go, this feels like home

As soon as the last note fades out you stand, wordlessly, and leave. Your feet carry you down corridor after corridor, past maidens working, some of whom gasp when they see you. But you don’t stop, not even when you cross paths with Lady Bela, who eyes you with surprising concern. She doesn’t try to stop you, though, and you doubt you would have cared if she had tried. It’s not until you are within your shared room that you finally stop moving. It is there that you sit, shaking, finally pressing a cloth to your neck. Blood stains the fabric, first in just a few dots, then spreading out. There’s not enough to make you fear for your life, but there is enough to make you cry harder. Washing the wound will sting… so you don’t do that. Soon you will have to return to your work, and the thought puts pressure on your skull, summoning an all-too-familiar migraine.

When you close your eyes, you don’t mean to fall asleep, but that is exactly what you do. And when you dream, you do not wish for nightmares. You never do- and fate never denies you their company.

[demonslayedher]

Currently having a crisis over how Keizo and Koyuki died bc the dojo next door tried to hide their killing intent by poisoning their water well, while Akaza died (or rather willed himself to die) when he fought two water breath users, one of which used Transparent World to hide his killing intent. Thoughts? (or any thoughts on akaza really)

I realize the crisis may be over by now for it has taken me so long to respond to this Ask. u_u;; While thinking about it in terms of battle mechanics I initially saw this in pretty basic terms—in the Taisho Secrets, we know that the heir to the neighboring dojo had a personal vendetta and hearing about Hakuji and Koyuki’s engagement set him off, and it seems it was a pretty purposeful wait for Hakuji to be absent so they’d have the chance to poison the well. Rather than hiding killing intent, which Hakuji would have only had a normal human martial artist’s aptitude for detecting, it was probably more a tactical matter of avoiding being seen. Hakuji was a protector, though, he might have been especially sensitive to threats to those he loves, and this may be why he gained such a keen ability for sensing these things once he becomes a demon. He was clearly taken by surprise by Tanjiro’s sudden ability not to emit a Battle Sense at all, which spelled a big part of his undoing.

But that’s not actually what killed him, and my thoughts have gone more into how Akaza willed himself to die. This is one of the very, very rare moments in his existence when he’s gotten to act on his own will and decisions. While he only underwent punishments when he was caught for robbery as opposed to being locked up in a prison, he was usually imprisoned in more metaphorical ways.

Being poor wasn’t a choice, but young Hakuji was willing to undergo anything as long as it was for his father. However, his father’s suicide was a denial of those choices. He stripped Hakuji of what meaning he thought his life was supposed to have, forcing him to live differently—as in, to not commit crimes for the sake of his dying father.

Though it no longer carried meaning, Hakuji continued living a criminal life, accepting that he was an “oni child” like he was always called, until Keizo overpowered him and made a decision for him, that Hakuji should be reformed. Furthermore, since Keizo was much stronger, Hakuji couldn’t argue with being put to work as Koyuki’s caretaker. Hakuji did settle happily into this life, he wasn’t exactly looking for freedom from it or anything like that, and his criminal markings were already going to limit a lot of his potential in life.

Being used to not having much say in the course his life takes, due to poverty or criminal history or simply being weaker than Keizo, following the course that others set for him doesn’t cause him much anguish because that is the norm. However, a stunning thing happens one day when Keizo gives him a choice. Would he like to marry Koyuki and inherit the dojo?

Hakuji never imagined he’d be faced with such a proposition. By the text he’s more stunned that they could be so welcoming to a criminal like him and that Koyuki would ever love someone like him, but by Koyuki’s reactions we see that she’s nervous that he’ll reject her, and she and Keizo are hugely relieved when he accepts. Hakuji has the choice fully within his power, to take that as his life’s course or reject it.

Unfortunately, sometimes choices continue to be taken away against your will. Hakuji goes into “mad dog” mode again after losing those he’s sworn to protect, and then even Muzan turns him into a demon, there was no proposition. Hakuji was in the process of telling him to get lost when Muzan stabbed him with his cells curiously wondered if Hakuji would have what it takes to survive it. There was no asking if he wanted to be a demon, and although Hakuji quickly gave up because he just didn’t care anymore, he had zero opportunity to say “no, I would rather remain a human and atone for failing to protect the people I love, and then staining their reputation by using my fists to kill people.”

Being a demon and training, for Akaza, is like when he’d go ballistic after losing his loved ones. It’s like a self-numbing behavior, and with only this desire to be strong to replace every painful memory, it’s no wonder he got obsessed. It’s not as if he could talk back to Muzan if he wanted, he continues following the course someone else set him on. Muzan lets him do as he pleases to some extent, but Akaza is still ultimately under Muzan’s thumb.

(We could dive into this lack of choice a little more by poking fun at Akaza for how everyone he proposes demonhood to says “no” while Kokushibo and Douma seem to have to trouble at convincing anyone. Haha, poor Akaza. But that’s perhaps pushing this a bit.)

Akaza does have willpower. It’s very strong, and he’s used it to hone himself this whole time, for lack of being able to do anything else with it, really. No goal to strive for, no one to use his strength to protect, being strong is only for the sake of training and getting stronger still. It’s telling that the effect of his willpower against himself is so strong that he can convince his flesh to repair itself even with his head gone, but he finally starts to crumble once he’s faced with how hollow that cycle is.

And what started it that crumbling process?

Giyuu’s declaration about protecting Tanjiro. There was a little earlier interruption from Keizo due to Tanjiro saying familiar things, but this is the point at which Akaza’s memories really start to climb their way back in, and the whole cascade starts flowing once Koyuki presses and presses him about W H Y he’s so insistent about being strong: it’s so that he can bring medicine home to his father, duh.

Even as he’s seeing all the flashbacks, he’s still trying to distance himself from them, call them stupid, he refuses to be weak, he’s even mostly built his head back until Tanjiro forces more memories of Keizo back at him, sending him back to a moment when he was given a chance to be reborn.

This is when Akaza finally realizes that the person he’s wanted to defeat all this time was himself, the guy who failed to live up to his father’s wishes, and who sullied Keizo’s teachings by using his “protecting fists” to murder people.

And this is the “aha” moment when Akaza chooses to free himself.

It’s not a matter of committing suicide out of shame, but of accepting his comeuppance. He accepts that he was defeated fairly the moment Tanjiro caught him off-guard earlier and sliced off his head, and he wants to face hell with some amount of bravery and pride.

Muzan does tempt him to stay and still prove how strong he can be, but in the end, Akaza takes his destiny into his own hands, and makes the choice to go with Koyuki.

[justmypartner]

Safe - 8x14 Speculation Fic

Writer’s Note: The idea for this came from the 8x14 synopsis, and while it technically still is a speculation fic, I don’t imagine the episode happening exactly like this. However, I did use what I’ve seen from bts photos and videos, as well as things Tracy has said in interviews to develop some of the scenes/details. This is probably my favorite piece that I’ve written in a while, so I hope you enjoy & thank you for reading!

Hailey rustled through her closet looking for her black wedged boots, trying her best to hurry as she knew Jay was waiting for her in the kitchen. She wasn’t much of a boot with a heel kind of girl, but she and Jay had special plans and she wanted to look nicer than usual. While they had been together for months, that night was the first time they were going on a proper date. They each decided at the beginning of their relationship that with both of their histories, they wanted to keep things simple and to themselves, which meant a lot of take-out and a lot of nights alone in their apartments. However, after Hailey mentioned something in passing about their clandestine time together starting to feel restrictive, Jay made plans at a fancy restaurant where he knew they wouldn’t run into any of their fellow team members.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but our reservation is in 45 minutes and it will take us about 30 to get there,” Jay said softly, peeking his head around the door frame.

“I know, I know. I’m trying to- finally!” she shouted upon finding the boots in the corner of her closet. She brought a knee into her chest as she pulled a boot onto her foot before switching to the other leg and doing the same.

“Okay, I just need to get my phone and wallet and then I’ll be-“ her words were cut short as she caught sight of him for the first time that evening. He was wearing a dress shirt with a light jacket, and his dark jeans curled over the top of a pair of black dress boots. It was much different from his typical, rugged workwear, but she took note of how well the look suited him.

“Wow you clean up nice, Halstead,” she told him with a dimpled smile as he blushed, extending a hand down to help her rise from the floor. Once she was standing, the small space between them closed quickly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her lips to his briefly. While the heels added extra height, she still needed to raise on her tiptoes to meet his mouth.

“Not too bad yourself, Detective,” he uttered as her lips pulled away. His hands grasped her waist, holding her steady as she remained on her toes. They stayed pressed against one another for a moment looking into each other’s eyes, and just when he was about to go in for another kiss, she fell on her heels and pressed the tips of her fingers against his chest.

“Normally, I would indulge in this further, but we’re going to miss our reservation and I’m starving,” she teased, moving past him to retrieve her phone, keys, and wallet, along with her jacket slung over the back of the couch.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Hailey was charmed by how nice it was. It was far different from the usual dive bars and pubs they went to after work, and part of her even felt like it was too nice for them to be at.

“Halstead, party of 2,” he told the hostess, holding up 2 fingers with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with Hailey’s.

A stifled smile came across her face and she nodded her head towards the floor as they waited for someone to guide them to their table. It seemed surreal to be standing in the middle of a fancy restaurant with him, holding his hand and waiting to be seated for a romantic dinner. She couldn’t tell if it was because of how long she secretly pined over him or if it was because being with Jay felt like her first real love story, but there were many moments when being with him felt like some fantasy, and that moment was one of them. At one point in time, being with him was something she only dreamt about. It was a thought that crossed her mind when his gaze lingered a little longer than it should or when an accidental touch sent her heart racing. Before they took that leap, she worried being with him would mean giving up being his partner. It was that fear that made her keep her feelings bottled up for so long, but as they proved time and time again, as partners, as lovers, and as both - they were good together. She turned her head and placed a light kiss on his shoulder. It was a tangible reminder that he was hers to kiss, but it also grounded her in that moment that felt like just another dream.

The dinner itself was incredible. Hailey officially added the restaurant to her list of favorite food spots in Chicago, and they spent the entire meal giggling and sharing stories they had never shared before. By the end of it, Jay was stuffed, but Hailey insisted they order a dessert, her sweet tooth getting the best of her. Jay teased her for ordering the lava cake, the most indulgent option on the menu, but she was able to tease him right back when he asked the waiter for a second spoon when it was brought to the table.

Just as Jay was about to pay the check, his phone began to ring, Voight’s name popping up across the screen as he pulled out his wallet.

“Uh oh,” Hailey said as he picked it up to answer. Jay spoke with their boss briefly, mainly nodding his head and muttering brief affirmations every few seconds.

“I think she’s out tonight, but I can call her and swing by to pick her up wherever she is,” Jay said, shooting Hailey a wide-eyed look as he quickly came up with an excuse as to why they’d be riding in together all dressed up.

“Alright hot stuff, as much as I’d like to keep this night going, it seems we caught a case,” he told her, as he stood from his chair. He took out his wallet, counting out enough money to cover the check and tip before resting the bills under his glass on the table.

“At least we made it through dessert,” she said, sending him a childlike smile.

“Oh, that was dessert? I had something else in mind for that,” he replied smugly, Hailey’s face turning bright red at his suggestive words.

“Oh really?” She questioned, taking a step towards him to close the gap between them. “You’d better clean up that mind before we get to the scene,” she whispered with a chuckle, twirling around swiftly and making her way towards the door as he shook his head at her tease. His hand found the small of her back as they made their way out the door, and he placed a kiss against her temple, knowing it would probably be the last display of affection he could show before they had to enter partner mode.

When they arrived at the house, Kevin and Voight were outside talking to a few patrol officers. Hailey’s mood had changed drastically upon arriving at the scene. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt uneasy as she jumped out of the truck and secured her badge and gun to her hip.

As they approached, Kevin pursed his lips together and let out a two-tone whistle as he caught sight of Hailey.

“Damn girl, sorry to pull you away from whatever had you all cleaned up,” he told her, cocking his head to the side as she shook her head at him with a smirk. Her eyes caught sight of Voight’s as they darted between her and Jay and she became nervous, imagining that he was putting two and two together. She decided to change the subject quickly before any further comments could ensue.

“Oh, shut up,” she told him. “What do we got?” She asked, spinning her head around the scene and taking in the myriad of patrol cars.

“I think it’s something you have to unfortunately see for yourself. I do have to say, you might want to brace yourself for this one,” he said, turning to lead them inside. Jay and Hailey met eyes, sharing a look of concern before turning and following Kevin and Voight inside.

Walking through the front door, they collectively grimaced at the overwhelming smell of blood that tinged their noses. They hesitantly made their way deeper into the house and Hailey’s heart dropped when she caught sight of a family of four, a couple and their two kids, all tied up and shot dead on the living room floor. That uneasy feeling from before suddenly made sense. She clenched her jaw, groaning at the sight as she looked away, recognizing the same unsettled look in the face of each of her fellow officers.

“What the hell happened here?” Jay asked, looking over at Kevin for the answer.

“This is the second home invasion robbery in this neighborhood this week. Robbery-homicide has been working these guys since the first one, but so far they’ve come up with no leads. Whoever these guys are, they’re professionals. It’s a two-man crew, they come in through the back, dressed head to toe in dark attire, get what they need, kill the family, and get out. They’re in and out in less than 10 minutes and they’ve got a getaway driver who knows how to avoid traffic cameras. Robbery-homicide tells me these guys killed a family of three earlier this week, and that the dad had bruises on his body in addition to the gunshot wound that killed him. Now, what’s interesting is in this case, the mom is the one with these bruises. These families were definitely targeted, we’re just not sure how or why,” he explained causing them each to frown.

While Kevin explained the case, Hailey fell silent as the details brought her back to a string of cases she had worked during her time in robbery-homicide. She spent weeks chasing after a crew targeting families who had shopped at a high-end jewelry store, only that connection was missed for the first half of the investigation. By the time she and her team had finally caught on to why the families were being targeted, four families had already been killed, five kids below the age of ten among the victims. Hailey beat herself up for months knowing if they had caught onto the pattern sooner, they could have saved more of the families - more of the kids. This case sounded eerily similar, and she was bound to not let history repeat itself.  

“How’d we catch this if robbery-homicide was on it?” Jay asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as his gaze intentionally avoided the gruesome scene before them.

“Miller assigned it to us. She wanted a fresh pair of eyes. She’s getting a lot of heat from the press about there being no leads, especially since this is a high-end neighborhood. Plus, these guys have already killed three tender-aged kids. I want the animals on a stick,” Voight replied straightly.

“Do we know what they’re after?” Hailey asked, her brain already working to establish a connection.  

“No, and that’s what’s given our robbery-homicide guys so much trouble. The only connection is that both families have had pretty high-tech safes somewhere in the house. Last house it was in a bedroom closet, but this one was in the basement. It seems like these guys make their way in, beat the location and combo of the safe out of one of the parents, get what they need, and off the entire family before hauling ass out,” Kevin told them.

“Well, I’ve worked cases like this one before. If we’re going to get anywhere, we need to figure out what it was they wanted and how they knew about it. We’re on a time crunch now, because it’s only a matter of time before these guys strike again,” she said, turning and leaving the house without waiting for any of their responses.

After leaving the scene, they all made their way back to the district to go over the files robbery-homicide had sent over. They browsed over the files for a couple of hours before Voight sent them home, needing them to rest up and refresh before they dove completely into the case the next day. The familiarity of the case was itching at Hailey, but as much as she wanted to see something that everyone else was missing, she came up short in every place she looked.

The next morning, she and Jay got coffee together. She had been quiet since they caught the case. Jay picked up on her shift in mood that occurred from the restaurant to the scene, but he left it alone to give her the space she seemed to need. He eventually built up the nerve to ask what was wrong. She told him about her old case and how much it meant to catch the guys and quickly. He agreed, admitting to her how much seeing those dead kids struck a nerve. He reassured her they would catch them one way or another. As they walked out of the coffee shop, a call came over the radio:

Units over the city-wide, we got calls of a home invasion. 1433 N State Street

“Gold Coast, that’s the same neighborhood as the other home invasions, you think that’s our guys?” Jay asked looking over at Hailey as he held the radio up.

“Could be, let’s roll on it,” she told him, rushing towards his truck as he followed, telling dispatch they were taking the call.

They rolled up to the scene, carefully clearing the house together, but they arrived too late, and the offenders were gone. They found the couple who lived there in the same position as the last two families, only they still had a pulse. Hailey tried asking them what the offenders were after, but all she got were incoherent mutterings from each victim. They both died before ambulances could arrive, but just the same as the other cases, only the husband had signs of bruising in addition to the gunshot wound, and a safe was found in the back of a linen closet. While crime techs combed the house, Hailey made her way out to the back garden, finding a hose to rinse the victim’s blood from her hands. Her hands were shaking so much, she couldn’t quite scrub enough to get them clean. Jay caught sight of her through the window and wade his way out to her, grabbing her hands in his to steady them. She looked up at him as he nodded his head, taking the hose and helping her scrub her hands clean. Once they were clear, he held her hands in his for a minute longer, quickly releasing them when someone cleared their throat behind them. When they turned around Voight was standing there, his hands deep in his pockets, eyeing the two of them as they took a step back from one another. If he didn’t know about them before, he definitely did then.

“You get anything new on these guys?” He asked, a knowing look plastered across his face.

“No, Sarge. They were gone by the time we pulled up,” Jay told him, dropping the hose to the ground.

“Well, get back to it. We’ve wasted enough time as it is, we’ve got to catch these guys,” he said bluntly, turning and making his way back into the house. The two of them stayed there frozen, shaking their heads at how careless they had been to let him walk up on them like that.

Back at the district, they scrubbed the lives of all of the victims, still coming up with no connection between any of them. Nighttime arrived once again with no leads and no suspects, so they decided to call it and head home. That night, Hailey laid awake, tossing and turning for hours. She tried every method she knew to fight off the insomnia that had kept her restless, but nothing was able to lull her into a slumber. It was the case that was keeping her up, and her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling while a million theories circulated through her mind. Something about it just didn’t make sense, and she couldn’t shake the idea that they had been missing an obvious connection. The faces of the couple she tried to save earlier that day remained at the forefront of her mind, and after a while of fighting off the urge to get out of bed and chase that gut feeling, she finally slipped out from the grasp of Jay’s limp arm, carefully retreating from the bed as to not wake him. She made her way over to her closet, pulling on a pair of jeans and slipping a sweatshirt over her head before grabbing her badge and gun from the nightstand and sliding her phone into her back pocket. She made her way to her office, retrieving a sticky note and pen to write Jay a message letting him know where she was going.

Couldn’t sleep. Gone back to the district, needed to go over the case again. ♡

She tiptoed back into the bedroom and placed the note on her pillow where she knew he’d see if he happened to wake up. She grabbed her coat and opened the front door, slowly guiding it closed on her way out, still trying her best to be as quiet as possible. She wasn’t sure what she would be looking for when she arrived at the district, but she had hoped that studying it alone and in the quietness of the empty bullpen would provide her with a new perspective. She made herself a cup of coffee before walking over to her desk and opening up every file they had on the case. She paced the floor of the empty space, flipping through files and studying photos until she was sure there was nothing to see. Finally, she hoisted herself onto the top of her desk, pulling her knees into her chest and eyeing the board for something they may have been missing. Suddenly, she heard the beeping of the keypad and the clanging of the door opening and closing downstairs. She checked her phone to see the time. It was 4 am, and she couldn’t imagine who else would be up that early. She did a double-take as Jay made his way around the corner, a look of exhaustion on his face as he sent her a lazy smile.

“What are you doing here?” She asked him, unclasping her hands from around her knees and pulling herself to the edge of the desk.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing,” he said with a smirk, pulling his jacket from his shoulders and resting it on the back of her desk chair.

“I couldn’t sleep. Something about this case was keeping me up, so I figured instead of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling for hours I would try and make myself useful. You didn’t have to come check on me. I’m fine,” she told him, the corners of her lips curling up into a reassuring smile as he came to stand over her.

“I couldn’t go back to sleep once I realized you were gone,” he told her softly with a slight pout before turning to lean on the desk beside her. “So, what have you figured out?” He asked, his attention turning to the board before them. She sighed, crossing her arms and staring at the crime scene photos as he waited for her response.

“I don’t know. I mean these families have no connections. The kids all go to different schools, they all work at completely different places, they don’t even shop at the same stores, I can’t seem to figure out where their lives intersect, so I just don’t understand why they’re being targeted,” she ran down, looking over at Jay whose eyes surveyed the information on the board.

“Maybe it’s about more than just the robbery. I mean they’re taking time to kill every member of the family, including the kids. Unless these guys are just straight-up psychopaths, it sounds like whatever is going on could be personal,” Jay suggested, looking over at his partner whose eyes were transfixed on one particular photo on the case board. His words sparked something in her, and she caught sight of the words Resurgence Tech written in bold font on a magnet on the refrigerator from the second crime scene. She knew the name was familiar, but she couldn’t remember how.

She pulled out the files from each of the cases and found what she was looking for. An email address registered in the husband’s name from the first robbery ending in resurgencetech.co. Looking at the other files, she was able to establish a connection between all of them leading back to a company previously known as Resurgence Tech. As she and Jay investigated through the night, they were able to figure out what was being stolen and why it was worth killing over. Resurgence Tech was a company co-founded by four individuals, Ryan Ethers, victim of the first robbery, Scarlett Jameson, victim of the second, Max Lin, victim from the third, and Lianne Meadows, who lived in a house in the Gold Coast District close to the previous victims. Five years prior, Resurgence Tech created a breakthrough idea for a high-tech medical device that had the potential to significantly change the practice of medicine. However, after hours of gathering information and records, the two detectives found out that the design was actually stolen from two brothers who had developed the original idea for a project they were working on in college. Resurgence used their power and influence to discredit the claims of the brothers, blacklisting them from the entire industry, and eventually pulling the design before it could ever meet the market. Not long after, Resurgence shut down for good, liquidating its assets and washing its hands of its shady actions for good. Digging deeper into the four co-founders of Resurgence and knowing more about where to look, Hailey and Jay were able to find email exchanges between them all discussing what to do with the patent plans for the stolen design in case there ever came a time to reintroduce the tech to the market. The strategy was to split the plans between the four of them, each keeping a piece locked up on a thumb drive hidden in a safe.

As soon as the sun rose that morning, Hailey called Voight and the rest of the team to come in. She explained the connection and identified the brothers as suspects, describing how the robberies must have been to obtain the thumb drives and get vengeance for the way Resurgence screwed them over. The situation had a significant impact on the brothers’ lives, leading them to turn to a life of crime, describing how they got connected with an armed robbery crew, and began pulling jobs across the city before getting caught only a year after Resurgence blacklisted them from the tech industry. They were released early due to overcrowding and good behavior, so they got out, hacked into the emails of the individuals that ruined their lives, and found out the design was out there, still viable to be profited from. Running on anger and revenge and using the skills they developed in their time with the robbery crew, they sought to take back what was theirs. They were operating under the theory that the two brothers were committing the crimes, and a guy that used to run with them in their old robbery crew was taking on the role as the getaway driver.

“Well, let’s go scoop ‘em up,” Voight said upon hearing the rundown of the case.

“Sarge, as much as I want to bring these guys in, we don’t have any evidence on them. There’s been no DNA, no prints, no witnesses tying these guys to these cases. There’s no way they’re going to talk, and if we bring them in, they’re just going to get released even if we keep them for the full 48 hours. By then they’ll have already made plans to run,” Jay said.

“These guys have killed nine people, three of those people being little kids. If we don’t act now, they’re going to strike again and that’s going to be blood on our hands. We bring them in, and we make them talk. I don’t care if we have to threaten them, or if we get ‘em to flip on each other. Either way, we’re not just going to sit around and wait for something to happen on this one. Not when we’ve got a pile of bodies growing the longer we sit here with our thumbs up our asses. So, Hailey, Jay, I want you two going to pick these guys up,” Voight bit back, a distinct annoyance in his voice. He had been on edge throughout the entirety of the case, but his temper seemed to have only increased after walking up on Jay and Hailey at the scene a day prior.

As much as Hailey wanted to side with Voight, she knew Jay was right. Bringing them in with no evidence and no witnesses placing them at any of the scenes would only guarantee them getting to walk, something she was determined to not let happen.

“Sarge, we can’t,” she muttered, swallowing what felt like a rock in her throat as his face fell with bitter surprise.

“What?” He challenged, his head dropping down as he cut his eyes at her.

“Jay is right. We can’t just jump on these guys with no evidence or else we risk losing them for good. I know you want to get these guys quick, but there’s got to be a better play,” she replied, taking note of the uncomfortable looks expressed by the other Intelligence members who quietly observed the interaction from the other side of the room. She watched as he pulled the inside of his cheek between his teeth.

“Remind me, who’s the sergeant of this unit?” The question carried a great deal of weight, and everyone in the room fell silent as his eyes travelled between each of the five intelligence members. “You don’t have to agree with what I say, but there’s a chain of command here and I expect you to listen to me. Now, unless there’s another sergeant in this unit I’m unaware of, I’m in charge. So, I’m only going to say this one last time. Jay, Hailey, go pick these guys up. I have to go update Miller on what’s going on. Those guys better be sitting in interrogation when I get back. End of,” he roared, making his way past the officers who remained frozen in place.

While Adam, Kevin, and Kim went back to work, Hailey grabbed her jacket, heading down the hallway out to the parking lot to follow the sergeant’s orders.

“Hailey, wait,” Jay called after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the observation room where he knew the others wouldn’t be able to hear them.

“What?” She questioned, a look of concern on her face as he silently thought through his words.

“I think I have another play,” he told her.

“Jay, he seemed- “she began before he cut her off.

“No, I know, but you know I’m right. We bring these guys in now and these families will never get the justice they deserve. We know there’s only one family left on their list, Lianne Meadows. The only move we have left is to catch these guys in the act. I say we sit on her house and wait for the robbery to go down, snatch them up, and then we have the guns tying them to the other cases and we have leverage to get them to flip if we need to,” Jay told her, the look in his eyes pleading with her to agree.

She knew Jay was right, but she also knew what going against Voight’s orders would mean. By that point, it was safe to assume he knew about their relationship. She knew that alone would be cause for him to assign them to different partners or even to different units. Teaming up and going against him would only increase the chances of him pulling the trigger on that. From the start of the case, she knew she wanted to catch the guys no matter what, but she never imagined it would involve making a decision that could possibly jeopardize her partnership with Jay. Every part of her knew his way was the only option that gave them a chance of making things right, yet she knew there would be a cost to them both going against Voight’s orders.

“You’re right… but let me do it alone,” she told him, causing him to frown at her words.

“What? No, I can’t let you go after these guys by yourself,” he argued, a combination of concern and annoyance in his voice.

“Jay, if we do this together it’s only going to give him reason to split us up. I have a feeling we’re already on his hit list after everything that has happened these past few days, and if he sees that we’re siding with each other… going rogue against his orders? He could reassign us partners, or worse, ship one of us off again. You, this partnership, our relationship, it all means too much to me to risk. If I go alone, only I take the fall, and he doesn’t have reason to use our relationship against us,” Hailey told him, moving a hand to his chest as she spoke.

Pushing him away and crossing that line by herself was the only way she knew how to protect both their relationship and their partnership. With her history of crossing lines, she had hoped it would just seem like another questionable decision she made all on her own, and he wouldn’t have reason to punish both of them by splitting them up.

“Hailey, I’m not just letting you go there without backup,” he finally said, his jaw set tightly as he peered into her eyes.

“I’ll have Trudy assign some patrol guys for backup. That way you and the others don’t take fall back from Voight, but I won’t be going in alone,” she replied, moving the hand from his chest to cup his face. “I’ll be fine,” she told him.

He nodded hesitantly before sliding his fingers down her arm and wrapping his hand around hers.

“Be careful,” he insisted, squeezing her hand lightly.

“Of course,” she nodded back before opening the door and disappearing down the hall.

She sat out front of the house, the patrol officers waiting a street over for her signal. It had been about an hour and she had already dodged two calls from Voight. Her patience was running thin with every minute that passed without a sign of the crew. Then, she spotted a dark van creeping down the street and she slumped down in her seat, trying to avoid being seen. As the van approached the house, two men rolled out of the back door as the van maintained a low speed before stopping down at the end of the street. The second the men made it around the back of the house, Hailey radioed the patrol guys, climbing out of her car and drawing her weapon as she followed the offenders around the back. When the patrol guys caught up, she nodded to one of them, signaling them to open the back door and enter the home. The second they made it through the doorway, they were catching fire. Hailey took cover behind a door frame, keying her radio attached to her vest.

“10-1, 10-1, shots fired at the police, 1327 N Dearborn Street. Be advised patrol and plainclothes officers on scene,” she yelled into the radio, securing her free hand back on her gun before motioning the officers to press forward. They made their way into the house, carefully clearing each room as they passed through. When they made it to the front of the house, she caught sight of one of the guys escaping out the front door.

“5021 Henry I’m in foot pursuit of a suspect in an alleyway going west across the street from the original location,” she called out into the radio as she pumped her legs with each step, trying to control her breath as she chased after the suspect. He rounded a corner and she slowed down, holding her gun out to peer around the corner before continuing the pursuit. The next thing she knew, her gun was being kicked out of her hands and she was being thrown against the wall, hitting the side of her head against brick and feeling blood trickle down her face. She brought a knee up into her attacker’s groin, giving her a brief opening to connect an elbow with the side of his head. Falling to the ground, the man grabbed at her ankle, bringing her down with him before grabbing hold of her vest and laying a fist into her jaw. The blow sent her backward, shooting pain into the side of her face. She caught sight of her gun on the ground a few feet away and went to crawl for it, but he grabbed at her leg, drawing her backward toward him as she stretched her fingertips towards the handle. He was stronger than her, and he managed to pull her back enough to regain hold of her vest, winding up to lay another fist into her face. Before he could, she wrapped a leg around his, twirling him over so she was hovering over him. She began laying fist after fist into his masked face until she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, sending her elbow backwards towards the person. It was grabbed instantly, and she wiggled in the grasp before turning around and taking in the familiar green eyes of her partner.

“Hailey, we got him,” he said, holstering his gun and grabbing her by each arm to pull her up from the ground. Kim came from behind him, removing the mask from the offender and rolling him over to place him in cuffs. Meanwhile, Jay wrapped Hailey in his arms, bringing his chin down to her head as they swayed together in an embrace. Her breath was heavy and shaky, and she felt tears pool at the corners of her eyes. She was overwhelmed by everything that had just happened, but his arms wound tightly around her helped steady her breathing.

“It’s okay Hailey, you’re safe. I’ve got you,” he reassured her through a whisper. She took comfort in his words, and despite the pain surging through her head, she buried it deeper into his chest.

Luckily, they had reached the target and her family in time before the offenders could do any harm. Hailey went to Med to get her head checked out. A few stitches and several scans later, she was cleared, making her way back to the district to take whatever repercussions Voight had in store for her. The second she made it up the stairs, everyone’s eyes fell on her and she just flashed them a gentle smile and nod, signaling to them she was okay. Voight came to the doorway of his office, and she didn’t miss a beat heading straight towards him. However, just before she reached the door, his attention shifted over towards Jay at his desk.

“You too, Jay,” was all the sergeant said before turning and moving back into his office. Jay stood, making his way over and closing the door behind him before coming to stand beside Hailey across from the Voight’s desk. He looked over at them silently for a moment, Hailey setting her jaw tightly as she braced for whatever was to come.

“Are we just making a habit out of disobeying me and questioning my orders? Is that what we’re doing now?” He asked them. They remained silent. “Because if that’s what we’re doing and you’ve got a problem with how I run things, there’s the door. You can get out right now,” he told them sternly.

“Sarge, we needed to get those guys. Catching them in the act was the only way. I did what I had to do to make sure those families got justice,” Hailey said, her eyes remaining fixed with his.

“I told you to pick them up, bring them in, and instead you went your own way, putting that family, yourself, and a couple of patrol officers at risk. I could suspend you over this,” he argued, a distinct tension building in his voice.

“Sarge, it was my idea. If anyone deserves punishment, it’s me,” Jay admitted, causing Hailey’s head to swivel his direction, a cross look on her face as the words left his mouth.

“No, that’s not… Look, I went there on my own. I’m the only one to blame here,” Hailey argued causing him to shake his head before them.

“Okay, look. I know there’s something going on between you two, I have known for a while,” the second the words left his mouth, their eyes met briefly, and they both swallowed hard before turning back to him. “I decided to turn a blind eye because you two were able to keep it strictly professional here at work as far as I was concerned. But what happened today, what’s happening right now… this lying to me and covering for each other is not welcome in my unit. This is your warning and it’s the only one you’re going to get. As long as I’m in charge of this unit, you listen to me. You don’t go off-book, you don’t go behind my back because you disagree with what I say, and you certainly don’t let whatever is going on between you two change the way you make decisions. I know you guys are going to have each other’s backs… as partners and as whatever else, but the second that trumps having my back and the team's back, the way it did today, it undermines my authority and puts all of us at risk. If anything happens again like what happened today, you’re both done, and I’ll make sure you never work in the same unit again. Is that clear?” He asked them.

“Understood,” Jay replied.

“Yes, Sarge,” Hailey uttered, her heart rate dropping significantly with relief.

They drove home that night in silence, partly from exhaustion and partly from trying to process everything that had happened in the past 72 hours. Three days ago, they were on their first official date, celebrating their relationship for what felt like the first time, and now they were coming down from what could have easily been the end of their job and their partnership. Even though she hated the way it had to go down, she stood by having Jay’s back and trying to protect their relationship, even if it meant muddying the waters between them and Voight. From the start of the case, she was determined to catch the guys, chasing a small sense of redemption she felt she needed for that case she worked so many years prior. She wasn’t happy about everything that happened, particularly everything that went wrong, but she was able to save a family and get some form of justice for the others, and she stood by that firmly. It wasn’t the first time she had challenged Voight or crossed lines, but it was the first time she was genuinely fearful of the consequences. She was just glad her fears didn’t come to fruition. She looked over at Jay in the driver’s seat, and she remembered the way he told her she was safe after pulling her from the attacker only hours prior. Safe wasn’t something she had felt often in her life, but she certainly felt it when she was with him. She smiled to herself in the dark, satisfied to know that at least for that day, despite everything that happened, their relationship and their partnership were two things she could still consider safe.

[cuddlepilefics]

Christmas Fever

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregivers: Mainly Chan and Changbin

After being so excited for Christmas, Felix falls ill only days before. Luckily, he has some good friends to take care of him.

No one’s POV.:

Felix had been hyped for Christmas all month and Chan had barely been able to convince him to wait with visiting the Christmas market till they were off on a Christmas break, reasoning they’d better be able to enjoy it if they didn’t have to get up early the next day. Now that they were off, there was no stopping the young Aussie. He had already gone all out decorating their dorm and this afternoon, they’d visit the Christmas market together, grabbing some dinner there, since none of them were in the mood to cook. Despite waking up feeling a bit off, Felix was hyped for their afternoon excursion and had already spent the entire morning planning his outfit, so that he’d both look cute on the pictures he was planning on taking, as well as stay warm all evening. When he had his clothes prepared, he went to Jisung’s room and watched a Christmas movie with the other to pass the time till they’d have lunch and head out. With both of them cuddled up under a big fluffy blanket, the rapper soon complained about feeling too warm but Felix insisted it was just right and they’d be cold without the blanket. When Jisung offered, the younger could have the blanket to himself, the Aussie claimed he’d be too cold without his friend’s cuddles, so Jisung was stuck in his personal sauna and tried to focus on their movie instead of the sweat running down his back.

When lunchtime came, Felix barely felt hungry at all and decided to skip the meal. If he got hungry later, he could have some seasonal treats at the Christmas market without feeling too guilty. The group didn’t pressure him into eating, knowing full well that their evening would consist mostly of that. They were all pretty excited too because they’d barely been able to experience any seasonal things due to their busy schedule and they wanted to see their sunshine happy after watching him go into full Christmas-mode while decorating their dorm. Felix however suddenly didn’t look forward to it as much anymore. Towards the end of his movie with Jisung, his head had started to ache and it only seemed to be getting worse. He didn’t sit with his members as they ate lunch and instead did some changes to his prepared outfit. Feeling a little chilled, he added two more t-shirts underneath, to ensure he’d feel warm while being out in the snow for hours. After getting dressed, he felt so drained that he just stretched out on his bed and dozed off until Chan came to ask him if he was ready to head out.

Taking a nap proved to be a big mistake because when Chan woke him, Felix’ throat was on fire. Had he been breathing through his mouth the entire time? The dancer sat up coughing, which instantly made his head spin. “You okay, mate?”, Chan asked, worriedly patting his dongsaeng’s back. Clearing his throat a few times, Felix choked out: “Jus’ need to get a drink, slept with my mouth open for too long.” The leader accepted this and before Felix could even struggle to his feet, the older was already on his way to get him some water. Gulping down half of it, Felix was finally able to thank the other properly before slowly sipping the rest of his drink. Each sip was painful and barely did anything to soothe the pain in his throat but at least it stopped the coughing for now. As Felix woke up more and more, he noticed more things that were different from before his nap. His muscles ached like he hadn’t slept for days and his eyes stung, while his head hurt just the same, if not worse.

“Are you sure you still want to go out? You don’t look that great”, Chan confirmed, noting how the younger looked rather pale, while his eyes were slightly bloodshot. Felix nodded. He had waited all month for this and there was no stopping him now, though he had to admit that he felt more than just a little off now. It was probably nothing, just the exhaustion from the previous weeks catching up on him. Wrinkling his nose, the dancer sniffled: “Just pretty tired but I really want to go. We’ve been busy for so long, so I really don’t want to miss this opportunity.” Chan couldn’t argue with that and decided to let his dongsaeng get ready while he made sure the rest of the members would be good to go too. The only thing in Felix’ favor was the fact that he had already changed his clothes before his nap and he only had to fix his hair and apply some concealer now. Since when did he have such big eye bags?

He met up with his friends in the living room, everyone else having gotten ready a lot faster than him, despite him already wearing his evening outfit. Still not happy with how his hair looked, Felix put on a beanie and linked his arm with Changbin’s, just to have some guidance as he felt a bit unsteady on his feet. For some reason he just couldn’t seem the sleepy haze that still lingered after his nap, although he hadn’t even really slept, just dozed off a little. The rapper looked worriedly between Chan and Felix, hoping his hyung knew what was up but the leader just shrugged. During their walk to the Christmas market, Changbin tried to keep a conversation going between himself and Felix but the younger barely contributed to it, mostly just nodding or giving one-word replies. The truth was, that the Aussie’s throat was still on fire and talking was rather painful, making him cough afterwards more often than not. His head hurt too bad to really focus on the topic anyway and he just tried to keep up with walking as to not fall behind too far. At this point, Felix truly regretted heading out in the first place. Sure, he had waited for what seemed like an eternity but for some reason, he felt like he had just been hit by a train and wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed to sleep.

Changbin was catching on rather fast too and instead of keeping their arms linked, he wrapped his around the dancer’s waist to guide him to their destination. The close proximity allowed him to hear the soft sniffles, Felix tried so hard to suppress. Something was wrong, really wrong but not even Felix himself could tell what it was. He was pretty much asleep on his feet while Changbin led him around the market, neither of them really in the mood to take any pictures, despite having dressed up to do just that. It only really escalated when the group decided to get dinner and approached a food stand. Suddenly, Felix was wide awake, panicking as he tugged on his hyung’s arm. The older didn’t know what he wanted but quickly rushed the Aussie away from the crowd, towards a brick wall close by. Felix was shaking hard, bracing his trembling hands against the wall, as his head spun. Changbin worriedly steadying his shoulders, frowning: “What’s going on, Lix?” – “I-I don’t know?”, the Aussie whimpered, rubbing his face. Chan had followed them after watching the pair run off and he too noticed the ashy-grey shade the dancer’s skin had taken. “You okay, Lixxie?”, the leader cooed, brushing the hair out of his dongsaeng’s eyes. Feeling defeated, Felix shook his head.

Soon the rest of their friends had come over too, forming a small crowd around them. Changbin had wrapped his arms around Felix both to steady him and to calm him down, lightly swaying them from side to side till the younger whimpered: “Hyung, please stop moving.” – “Can you tell us what’s wrong, Lix?”, Chan tried, earning a pitiful sniffle. “I don’t know. I just suddenly felt really sick to my stomach when I smelled the food”, Felix admitted quietly, “I-I thought I was going to throw up but seems like it was a false alarm.” – “Hm, since when have you felt unwell”, the leader asked, removing his glove to feel the younger’s forehead. Changbin never removed his arms from around Felix’ waist as he could still feel the dancer tremble and didn’t trust him to stand on his own. Slipping his glove back on, Chan stated: “That’s a pretty impressive fever you’re sporting. Did you really not notice that?” Felix shook his head, whimpering when the movement made him dizzy. “My head started hurting earlier today but I only really felt bad after accidentally taking a nap around lunch”, he breathed, closing his eyes as he leaned further into Changbin’s chest, “The fever surely explains why everything hurts so much.”

Shaking his head, Chan decided: “You’re done here, let’s get you home.” – “Noo, hyung”, Felix whined, he had waited so long for this. “Lix, listen to Chan-hyung and let us take you home. You’re sick and have no business being out here in the cold. Don’t tell me you were enjoying yourself because I could tell you weren’t”, Changbin hummed, resting his chin on the dancer’s shoulder. “Okay, I’m going home”, the younger sniffled, “You shouldn’t come with me though. You waited so long for this too and I don’t want to ruin your fun when you should be enjoying yourselves.” – “Now, how could I enjoy myself out here when I know you’re at home suffering by yourself?”, Chan frowned, cupping Felix’ cheek with his glove, “I’d rather stay home with you than tour this market without you.” Changbin nodded wordlessly, agreeing that he’d rather take his sick dongsaeng home. Felix didn’t really have the energy to argue with them but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. The other members weren’t really in the mood to stay out, knowing their sunshine was feeling poorly either and decided to head home together. Maybe Felix would feel better in a few days and they’d still get the chance to go out as a group.

Felix kept tripping himself with how weak and dizzy he was and ended up on Changbin’s back, the rapper carrying him all the way up to their dorm. “Want your bed or the couch?”, the rapper asked, kicking off his shoes and waiting for Chan to remove Felix’. Tightening his grip on the older, the dancer choked out: “B-Bathroom please.” Changbin cursed under his breath and hurriedly took the younger to the bathroom, where he settled him in front of the toilet. Felix was as white as the wall behind him, face glistening with sweat as he weakly flipped up the toilet seat, swallowing convulsively. “Lix, I think you should take a few of those layers off. You’re making your fever worse”, Changbin hummed, brushing a hand through the younger’s bangs before helping him remove the thick sweater. Not long after, the Aussie struggled to his knees, coughing harshly over the toilet. That didn’t do much, except for making his throat burn even more. Chan soon joined them with a bottle of water, cooing: “Looks like you caught the flu, mate.” – “No, I can’t- It’s Christmas”, Felix cried, as he clutched Changbin’s hand. Running a hand up and down the dancer’s back, Chan sighed: “I know it sucks, but that would explain why I hit you so suddenly and you started feeling so sick completely out of nowhere. Plus, your fever is too bad to be caused by a cold.”

Felix continued to cry but after twenty minutes still hadn’t thrown up, so Chan offered: “Why don’t we get you settled in bed? We can get you a bucket in case your stomach acts up.” The younger nodded and allowed his hyungs to pull him to his feet, only to have Hyunjin stop them in the hallway. “Hey, we set up the living room for you, so we could watch movies together if you feel up to it. I know you wanted to do Christmas-y stuff”, the dancer cooed, wiping the tears off Felix’ flushed cheeks, “If you’d rather go to bed though, that’s completely fine, we just didn’t want you to feel lonely.” A sob tore from Felix’ throat startling the older. “I-I’m sorry, I-I ruined C-Christmas for e-everyone and you- you are still so nice t-to me”, the Aussie hiccupped pitifully, the fever making him even more emotional and the guilt unbearable. “What are you saying?”, Changbin frowned, scooping the younger up bridal-style and carrying him to the couch, “You didn’t ruin anything for anyone, Lix.”

Jisung was waiting for them, handing Felix comfortable sweatpants, hoping to take some of the pressure off the Aussie’s upset tummy. Though getting changed was a struggle, the dancer sighed in relieve as the soft fabric felt a lot better on his overly sensitive skin. His friends had really set up the living room with numerous pillows and additional beanbags as well as a bucket in case Felix needed to be sick. While Minho prepared a pot of ginger tea, to ease the Aussie’s nausea, Seungmin brought the fluffy blanket from Felix’ room, helping the older to get settled on the couch. They started a Christmas movie, the dancer hadn’t gotten around to watching this year and dimmed the lights aware of his headache. Chan allowed the younger to lay his head on his lap and gently ran his finger’s through his dongsaeng’s hair. Jeongin came over with an ice pack, which he carefully draped over Felix’ forehead before settling on a beanbag close to the couch. None of them could keep a smile off their faces when Felix hummed a sleepy: “Thank you for staying with me.”

[hepaidattention]

saved

where Stiles and Lydia actually get alone time after he and the pack save her from Eichen House.

“Stiles found his eyes drifting closed, unable to resist the pull of sleep any longer. His last thoughts were of the blissful reminder that Lydia Martin was in his arms, alive, and he was never going to let anything else ever hurt her again.”

“Stiles, I’m fine,” Lydia insisted, pushing his hand back only slightly. She held onto it, tight, but she pushed it away from her just enough to show that she could stand on her own. She gave him a smile that actually reached her eyes, the tears in them causing her hazel irises to sparkle. She had been through so much, but she still managed to stand up from the table on her own. “See?” 

Stiles wasn’t letting go of her hand, “You don’t need to prove anything, Lyds, someone literally just performed trepanation to your skull,” he breathed out from his mouth, like if he didn’t he might pass out, “it’s okay to need help.”

“Stiles,” she placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing away tears stains with her thumb, “I’m okay, I promise.”

The sheriff had arrived, now talking to Lydia’s mom in the lobby of the clinic. Dr. Deaton and Scott were out there with them, all discussing the events of the night. Stiles was still in shock, he still felt like if he let go of Lydia’s hand it all would have been some big hallucination. It wouldn’t be the first time for him. Lydia could tell how concerned he still was so she nodded and said, “Okay, maybe I’m not a hundred percent.” She leaned on his arm, because in all honesty she really needed the support - she was just stubborn. “But I’m going to be fine, thanks to you.”

He scoffed a little, scratching the back of his neck as he raised his eyebrows in objection, “Lydia, trust me, I participated a pretty small part. Helping you limp out of a few hallways should hardly be categorized under ‘rescuing’.”

“Small?” She tweaked up her left brow, her right staying put. She pursed her lips and asked, “Did you make the plan?”

“Well, yeah,” he said like it was a ‘no duh’ question. He wasn’t wrong. “And it failed, miserably.”

She looked at her hand, as if it wasn’t real, then poked his chest. “Hm,”

He knew what she was doing. He sighed and said, “What?”

“Well, it sure feels like we’re alive,” she poked his cheek, “but if your plan failed, then I guess we must be dead.” She poked his cheek again. He gently grabbed her free hand (the poking one) and cracked a smile, which was her goal all along. He didn’t let go of either hand now, and she didn’t pull them away. She didn’t want to. 

“Ha, ha,” he faked a laugh, but he was still smiling down at her, “okay, so maybe like ten percent of the plan worked. The rest was purely winging it, lots of unadulterated luck.” She was still looking at him with pursed lips, which unconsciously made his gaze fall to them. “Lots.”

It got still between them, Lydia realizing what he was staring at, Stiles having trouble looking away. Ever since he found her in Eichen House all he’s wanted to do was kiss her - he knew it was just old feelings being stirred up from the detrimental, gnawing reality of possible death, but he still couldn’t help but just want nothing more than to kiss her. That feeling should have faded - but it was more strong than ever before now. It didn’t help that he was pretty sure Lydia was thinking the exact same thing - she couldn’t be, could she? She was staring at his lips too, wasn’t she? Their eyes met then, and the electricity between them was hard for even a plain old human like him to deny. This was insane, he had to snap out of it. This was purely because life and death put them into survival mode. He tore his eyes from her own - a hand running through his mess of hair. 

“Do you uh,” he cleared his throat, his mouth much drier than he expected, “do you need a ride home?”

“Stiles,” she smirked, looking behind her towards the lobby, then back at him, “I think my mom can drive me home.”

“Right! Right, yeah, right, right,” he was chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes staring down at the ground (too afraid to meet her gaze again). However, he still didn’t let go of her hands. He couldn’t. He wouldn't. He finally looked up, “Are you sure?”

“I mean,” she was looking tired again, really really tired. She leaned back into the table and yawned, “I’m highly sure my mom is here, and I’m pretty sure she’ll want to bring me home.”

He let loose one of her hands to help support her from her elbow. “Lyds, I think maybe you should sit back down,”

She nodded, surprisingly not arguing. He led her to a chair this time, rather than struggling to get her up on that table again. She sat down on the cold, black seat and let out a huff. “Who knew screaming could wear out a banshee.” She rested her hand on her fist, eyes closing. 

Stiles pushed the hair from her eyes with his thumb, now standing on his knees in front of her. “Lydia?” he shook her knee just a little, “Lyds, remember what Deaton said,” this time he tucked the hair behind her ear since it kept persistently falling back in her eyes. “Can you tell me what he said?”

She smacked her mouth like she was in need of water and she nudged her head a little, an attempt of a nod. With eyes still closed she said, “I should try to stay awake for at least eight hours.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he puffed a soft laugh from his nose, “this doesn’t look a lot like trying to stay awake.”

“What does it look like then?” Her head went from staying up on her fist to finding Stiles’ arm that was lying across the side of the chair and laying her head on it like he was her pillow. 

“Well, I’m not an expert, but it looks a lot like sleeping to me.”

“Shhh,” her pale lips pursed again, just to make the noise. God he wanted to kiss her. No, Stiles, snap out of it! You cannot and should not kiss Lydia Martin. “Stiles, I’m trying to sleep, don’t be so loud.”

He knew he needed to keep her awake, but he felt so guilty waking her. She looked so peaceful, and how could he find it in him to ask her (after everything she’d been through) to stay awake? 

However, his dad did it for him. He waltzed in the room with his booming voice, announcing both their names as if they wouldn’t respond to just a quiet tap on the shoulder. The sound made Lydia jump up immediately. She grabbed both of his arms with a death grip, nails digging into his forearms with rattled breaths. 

“Lyds, it’s okay, it's okay,” Stiles said soothingly, his hands turning up to grab her arms back in any way he could. She looked at the sheriff with wide eyes, then met Stiles' gaze. The fear in her expression melted, and her forehead fell into his. “It’s okay,” he said again, watching as she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. “I’m right here. I’m not gonna let anything else happen to you, okay?”

She nodded against his head. Stiles reluctantly pulled his head from hers, pried a hand from her tight grasp, and looked at his dad with sigh. “Yeah?”

“Well uh,” he looked a little uncomfortable, his eyes scanning the two of them as if he was trying to put the last pieces of the puzzle together, but they just didn’t fit. He knew they weren’t together, yet he couldn’t help but feel like at this moment, they were. “Well, Lydia’s mother, she’s uh, she’s gonna need to come down to the station. She wants to make a report on Eichen House and she doesn’t seem to want to wait - can’t really say I blame her. She was wondering if you one of us could -”

“I’ll bring her home,” he was holding her hand again now, Lydia squeezing back (tight), “No problem.”

“Alright, sounds good,” he cleared his throat again, his eyes flicking to their joined hands, then back to his son. “Scott ran off somewhere, god knows where, he mumbled something about Liam needin’ him or somethin’ like that. You sure you guys will be okay? I’m sure I can call a deputy down to help -”

“We’re fine, dad,” Stiles cut off his dad’s spiel with a half smile. “We’ll be fine. Lydia’s house is only like 10 minutes down the road.”

“Okay,” he nodded, still looking weary, “well, if you need me son, if you need anything,-”

“You’ll be the first one we call,” he stood up then, helping Lydia to her feet beside him. He wrapped an arm around her waist as she walked, much more steady than before but still weak. They stopped in front of his dad and he softly smiled as he said, “I promise, okay?”

The sheriff nodded, his forehead still frowning, but honestly that was his normal expression now-in-days. He patted his son on the shoulder and said, Alright, well, be safe.”

Stiles gave him a wink and, “Always,” before they made their way out of the clinic and to his jeep. He helped Lydia in the passenger seat first, then he made his way around the car, quickly to his seat before resting his hands on the steering wheel and letting out a long exhale. 

“You okay?” Lydia asked him, the tone of concern in her voice. Stiles laughed, looking at her like she just made the funniest joke he’d heard all night (not that he’d heard very many jokes at all all night). She pouted at him, her head pressed against the headrest as she glared, “Why are you laughing?”

“Lydia, you literally almost died today, and you’re asking me if I’m okay.” He shook his head, his eyes on the steering wheel as if the car is supposed to drive itself. “You’re unbelievable.” He meant that in the highest of regards. She thinks. 

“Hate to break it to you Stilinski,” she raised her head, trying to reach his eyes, “but you almost died today, too.”

He turned then, locking eyes with her, and his breath hitched in his chest. Her hazel hues glowing in the moonlight, the soft smile on her lips. She looked like death, not that he would ever tell her that, and she still was the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen walk his earth. A sudden flood of love overcame him, which then quickly was partnered with worry. “Are we sure it’s okay to bring you home? Shouldn’t - shouldn’t Deaton want to keep you overnight for observation? Shouldn’t we make sure you’re going to be alright-”

“Stiles,” she grabbed his knee and squeezed. It stilled his bouncing leg, and stilled his racing thoughts. “Take me home,” her mouth curved up just slightly, “please. I just want to go home.”

“Okay,” He nodded and he felt tears pricking his eyes again. Why? Now was not an appropriate time to cry, dear god Stiles - just drive. “Okay.” He shook his head and let out an uneasy breath as he started the ignition, the jeep purring awake. “Let’s get you home.”

-

He helped Lydia in her room, waited for her as she showered, and now he was wrapping covers around her legs, propping pillows behind her back, and fidgeting around like the world was going to end if he stopped moving for two seconds. He was rambling now, going on about all the things she needed and looking around the room for something to help ease her discomfort. “Stiles,” she said, hoping he’d stop moving like a fly trapped in a jar. 

He didn’t hear her. “Do you need anything to eat? No? Drink, maybe? Water? God, I bet you’re freakin’ thirsty -” he looked at her dry lips and ran a hand through his once spiky hair. All the gel had been combed out by his own nervous hands. “When was the last time you had anything to drink? - ya know what, I’m just - I’m just gonna go get you some water.”

Before Lydia could protest, he was gone. She sighed, leaning her head back on the pillows and watching the ceiling. The mistletoe and everything else Deaton did helped, but she could still hear the voices, when there was nothing else to listen to, nothing else to keep her mind off the pain. She closed her eyes, sucked in a breath, then released it only to suddenly hate the idea of sleeping. 

“Stiles,” she shouted, the voices slowly getting louder the longer he was gone. What was taking him so long? “Stiles!” She was getting frantic. She started ripping the blankets from her legs, her feet ready to go searching for him, when he came practically falling in the room with a glass of water in his hand. 

“What? Are you okay? What happened?” he stumbled at the side of the bed, falling to his knees in an instant. He sat the glass down instinctively and immediately checked her like something was physically wrong - cupping her face with his hand and searching her eyes. 

Lydia shook her head, feeling a little guilty, “I’m fine, sorry, I just…” there was no reason to lie, this was Stiles. He’d seen her at her worst and told her she was beautiful for it. “The voices, they just get really loud when it’s quiet.”

“Right, okay,” he licked his lip top lip, then bit down, looking around her room like he would find answers. “Quiet equal bad, we can work with that.”

“Just don’t…” she held onto him tight, like he was her anchor, “don’t leave me again.”

Stiles was giving her that mouth gaped open, nodding like a speechless idiot face. “Uh, yeah, yeah you go it - no more leaving.” Then his eyes caught sight of her nightstand, three DVD’s stacked beside her lamp. “What about a movie then? Yeah? Doctor’s orders?”

Lydia wanted nothing more than to sleep, but she knew sleeping sounded like the scariest thing she would do today. She nodded, realizing then that she was crying - she wasn’t even sure what that started happening. No wonder Stiles acted like her very life was in his hands, she probably looked like a ticking time bomb. She also realized she was holding Stiles’ hand, which she needed to let go of for him to put a movie on. 

Stiles put on the movie, one of Lydia’s favorites - he didn’t even have to ask, he just knew the perfect movie she would love. It was her comfort movie, and he knew it. Then he crawled back beside her bed and leaned his body against the side. His face was on the corner of her mattress, watching the previews like he’d never seen the trailer for a chick flick before. He was so exhausted, she could tell he was doing everything in his power to stay awake. She was lying down, curling up as close to him as possible, but she felt cold and alone. Every time she closed her eyes she could see Eichen House, the doctors, the patients, the victims. She could hear the voices seeping into her mind. The only time she remembered being at peace was when she was holding Stiles’ hand. She couldn’t do that very well right now, and if she was honest she didn’t want to just hold his hand.

“Stiles,”

“Hm?” he said sleepily. He nudged his head back, looking at her with all the love he could muster (which was a lot). “Something wrong?”

“No, it’s just… you don’t have to sit on the floor you know.”

He looked so confused, his brows knitting together as he looked at her bed, then back to her eyes. “I don’t?”

“I have a king size bed, Stiles. There’s plenty of room up here for the two of us.”

“Yeah?” she didn’t waver, so he then said, “Yeah, okay, yeah,” he stood up, crawling on the bed from the end, “plenty of room, right? Not like we have to cuddle or something-” 

Once he got to the top she pulled on his arm, wrapping it around her waist and snuggling into his embrace as he settled into the bed beside her. Stiles was in shock. He knew this was purely platonic need for physical touch in he midst of a mental and emotional crisis… but he was spooning Lydia Martin, and it was her choice. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” 

He didn’t know how to answer. He just stammered out, “Sur-sure, yeah,”

“Stiles,” she intertwined her fingers with his and looked back at him with a frown, “Promise me you won’t go anywhere?”

His face relaxed, meeting her eyes like she was the only thing that brought his mind to peace. He could have a thousand thoughts racing at once, but when she looked at him, everything was still. “I’m not going anywhere,” he tightened his arm around her, “I promise.” She smiled at him and kissed his cheek. His eyes fluttered, “What was that for?”

“A thank you,” she turned back towards the movie, snuggling further into his embrace. “For saving me.”

He whispered back, “What else was I gonna do? I couldn’t let you die. I’d lose my freakin’ mind.”

She didn’t answer, she just closed her eyes with a smile on her face. Within minutes she was sound asleep in his arms. He just watched her, terrified about what would happen if he fell asleep too. Someone drilled a hole in her beautiful freakin’ head - that had to be bad for the brain, right? He watched the movie some, but when she’d flinch or squirm his attention immediately went back to her - holding his breath every time until she showed signs of being alright. 

It had been so long since he allowed himself to think like this - so long since he’d allowed himself to even consider Lydia as anything but a friend. The thing was, he knew he still was just that for her - just a friend. Stiles was always who she went to when she was hurting, but never who she went to when she was in the mood for a good cuddle or a make-out session. That wasn’t them - he had been friend-zoned far too long now for that. 

That didn’t change the fact that he now was realizing something he didn’t want to realize. Through all the years of knowing Lydia, his feelings for her were once shallow, fragile, inexperienced - but now, her laying in his arms after almost dying, he knew what she really meant to her. It killed him that he was allowing himself to think this way, but the thing was he always knew, he just wouldn’t let himself get so far as to put words to it. It hurt too much. 

Lydia flinched, Stiles holding just a little tighter, and she relaxed back in his arms. He whispered so quietly, he could hardly hear himself even say it: “I love you, Lydia Martin.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, eyes closed, “I love you, too.” Stiles popped up, his ears having to have played a trick on him. Then in her sleep she mumbled, “No mom, I don’t need another prada bag.”

Stiles laughed to himself and fell into the bed again. The hardest part was knowing tomorrow he’d wake up with Lydia Martin in his arms, and then having to go through the rest of his day acting like it meant nothing to either of them. Like it was nothing to him but pure platonic cuddling, for emotional support only, of course. 

Stiles found his eyes drifting closed, unable to resist the pull of sleep any longer. His last thoughts were of the blissful reminder that Lydia Martin was in his arms, alive, and he was never going to let anything else ever hurt her again.

[nad-zeta]

Game Night

Fandom: Ikevamp

Pairings: Arthot x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff plus mentions of Alcohol

Words: 1500+

Comments: Eeeeep and the birthday bash week continues! Hehehe I wonder who this is for hehehe ❤❤ ❤😳🥺Zeta can be sneaky tooo! 🥺😳❤🌈

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“Yahtzee!”

“Nooo! Wait! How! Gaah, next game!” you exclaimed from the leather seat opposite Arthur, sending him a death glare with crossed over arms.

“Not had enough yet, Luv? My, how you must enjoy defeat so,” the cocky words were spoken belonging to the British author who now wore a wide triumphant smile at yet another victory claimed.

Ooh, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk right from his face; the only problem was Arthur Conan Doyle was a master at all games and puzzle alike— and you had absolutely no chance at winning. No matter the challenge, he would rise to the occasion and steal victory from right from beneath your nose— even if you were the goddess of luck herself, you doubted you would be able to secure victory.

“I’ll show you defeat,” you sneered, taking a sip of your whiskey mix and watching him set up the next board with hawk eyes. He must be cheating? Right? There was simply no other explanation as to how this man would be able to win at games he had never even heard of before, much less played.

Or perhaps he— “it is not luck. I assure you, my darling bird,” his blue eyes lifted to meet yours, cunning smile on his lips, cutting your thoughts short.

How did he do that? You glared at the man wearing a mix of shock and horror. Infuriating, you thought, especially when he all so amusingly seemed to chuckle at the expressions you made. “Would you believe me if I said it was magic,” he asked with enthusiasm, leaning forward with bright eyes.

Again he seemed to read your mind, answering your inner thoughts out loud. You narrowed your eyes at him apprehensively; you knew vampires existed, yes? But magic? There was no way. “Prove it,’ the words left your mouth as you found that despite the side-eye delt, you inched closer in curiosity.

“Abracadabra,” Arthur spoke the familiar words of an old friend and produced a small box from his sleeve.

“That’s not magic, you big ol cheat! That’s just a trick!” you huffed, rolling your eyes at him— but mostly at yourself for almost believing such a thing to be possible.

“Poppycock! It’s not just a trick! It’s magic! After all, how else would you explain the appearance of this magical box out of thin air,” he hummed, holding the dainty blue velvet box out towards you. With another roll of the eyes, you reached out to take the box from his hands.

“Most definitely not with science, that’s for sure,” you spoke with hints of sarcasm behind your teasing grin, fingers pulling at the ribbon atop the box. You carefully opened the lid, not entirely sure what to expect— after all, it would not be the first time you had opened a gift from the man only for it to be some or other good-natured jest.

You held the box away from you, opening it cautiously while closing one eye, the other eye barely peeking open to a squint to catch a glimpse of the box’s contents carefully.

You half expected a flurry of glitter to shoot out from the inside and puff straight into your face— you know, as a way to prove fairies existed or whatnot.

Arthur sat back in his chair with crossed legs and a fond smirk over his lips, “I do hope you like it Luv, the fairies worked awfully hard to construct it,” he quipped with a snort, only adding to your suspicion.

Finally, you opened the lid to reveal two pairs of dazzling red dice, shimmering gently, as the light from the fireplace reflected off the smooth crystal surface. You had to smile— of course, Arthur would cutely attribute the glitter within to the magical pixie dust of the fairies he loved so much.

“Now that I have passed on some of my wizard powers, highest roll starts,” he spoke, getting back into the game mode as he placed on his polka dot glasses while sending you a flirty wink.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded hands, waiting for you to roll the dice; only instead of rolling your new set of crimson, you mimicked his movements. No way you were going to roll first, for all you knew, these dice might be just as cursed as the previous ones.

“After you,” you spoke, sliding your new dice towards the man.

His blue eyes met yours challengingly as he picked up the dice, giving them a gentle shake in a mock roll before placing them before you once more, “ladies first’ he winked with a smug smile.

Ah, if he thought you were going to back down from the mental challenge so soon, he was sorely mistaken. You fixed him with a determined glare of your own, “Age before beauty, I insist,” you said with a wicked smile, once more pushing the dice towards him.

He rose to the challenge, letting go of an amused snort, not making any effort to move, as blue eyes met yours with a lifted chin, “Beauty before the beast,” he spoke full of confidence. No matter the game, or challenge, Arthur never liked to be bested. Be it by his friends, family or lover, losing was not an option.

“Men before hens,” you spoke again smugly, crossing your arms, leaving the dice right where they were on his side of the table. “I could do this allllll night long, dearie, so you best hurry up and roll,” you added for good measure.

With a chuckle and shake of the head, Arthur relented, swiping the dice of the table and shaking them in his hands, “very well hen, since it’s your birthday, I suppose I shall back down just this once.”

He blew on the dice, a good luck ritual of sorts, before throwing them down on the table.

The game was now afoot!

You could tell by the glimmer in his eyes he was already planning, strategising, plotting, if you will. Was this his plan all along, to go first? You shook the thought from your head, focusing your attention on the snakes and ladders board. You needed to keep your wits about you if you wanted to win this game. 50% luck, 20% skill and 30% pure divine intervention— thus, you started to pray. The stakes were high, and the reward even higher.

“Twelve,” you practically squealed out in excitement at the outcome of the first roll, looks like the prayer worked, now to keep up the momentum. Taking a swig of your drink, it was finally your turn to roll the dice.

Somewhere between the smack talk and fun, you and Arthur had upped the stakes, adding a rule to include a shot taken for each snake you were to descend down. Needless to say, you had lost count of the number of shots that had passed your lips as you were very much past well-toasted at this point.

Dimming and brightening, you struggled to keep your eyes open, determined to finish—determined to win.

“Yes! Take that, Arty, down the snake you go! Ha! Drink up sunshine,” you chanted, filling Arthur’s glass to the rim with gin while getting up to do a little premature victory dance. However, your victory celebration seemed to end all too soon, with the next roll sending your straight down the very same snake.

”For Fudge sake!” you yelled, throwing yourself back into the chair— the image of yourself flipping the table in frustration playing in your mind’s eye— bringing a smile to your lips as you took another sip.

The night continued on.

It wasn’t before long Arthur was officially declared the winner— albeit he had to announce himself the winner as you were now ‘resting your eyes’ busy fighting yet another losing battle.

“Ah, I believe I win, now for my prize,” he sang out, downing the remnants of his glass and towering over your resting form.

“You ought to be more careful, Luv. What if I were to pounce on you, honestly, bird? What am I going to do with you.”

He crouched down, sitting on his heels as he slowly reached out to gently pull his fingers through your silken hair. Suddenly you shifted, falling forward—forehead landing on his shoulder, you murmured a little, snuggling closer to his warmth before breaths softly evened out once more. “You really are quite a troublesome drunk, aren’t you, dove, “he cooed, hand moving from your hair to tenderly stroke your cheek.

In one swift motion, Arthur picked you up, “upsy daisy, there we are, now off to bed with you, my darling.” You shifted again in his arms, nose nuzzling further into the cook of his neck. He smiled down at you, blue eyes filled with nothing but pure love and affection, before carrying you off to bed.

He gently laid you down, tucking you beneath the sheets before dropping one final adoring kiss on your forehead. “Happy birthday, my darling bird,” was all he spoke in a soft whisper before extinguishing the light and tucking you in his arms, drifting off into a blissful sleep of his own.

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[chloebeale]

won’t you sing me your sweet lullaby

rating: T

word count: 1.6k

read below or on ao3!

*

Chloe had been warned on many occasions, by many people, that growing a child in her body would absolutely not be the most comfortable of situations, and at just over four months into her pregnancy, she is beginning to see just how right all of those statements actually were.

Not that she would change anything, of course. The terrible bouts of morning sickness, the almost unbearably sore boobs, the aching back, it is all worth it for the baby she and Beca have been trying to add to their family for what feels like forever now. They have so much love to give, so much love for each other, their baby truly is going to be showered with endless affection, too. So, it is worth it. It is all worth it, and Chloe outright refuses to complain.

Fortunately, despite being the one carrying their unborn child, Chloe is not left to suffer alone. No, maybe Beca does not feel the physical pain, doesn’t experience the mental exhaustion, but she has been the total definition of the perfect, doting wife throughout. It seems that all Chloe has to do is think about ice cream and Beca is suddenly right there with at least three different flavors for her to choose from; her face contorts into an unintentional wince and Beca is immediately there to rub her back.

In fact, Beca is so focused on Chloe and the baby, so intent on making sure that they are okay and that they have everything they need, that her own needs seem to be falling to the wayside.

And it really is so sweet of her to care so wholeheartedly, so incredibly nice of her to want to do her share, but Chloe is adamant on making sure Beca knows that she is just as important, too.

Chloe has never been the type to nap throughout the day. A morning person through and through, Chloe wakes up with the sun and seizes the day, but with the added exhaustion of growing an entire human, afternoon naps have kind of become routine. She fought them for a while, insistent that she could make it to bedtime on copious yawning alone, but it became quickly clear that she needed that time to recharge, and honestly, Beca kind of needed the break, too.

It is when Chloe is napping that Beca seems to be her most productive, it is when she takes the time for herself to do what she wants to do, and sometimes Chloe will prolong her time in bed, simply lying there post-nap and comfortable with her own thoughts, for the sake of allowing Beca that extra bit of downtime.

It proves difficult this afternoon, though, when Chloe hears the soft sound of melodic music floating throughout their home, for her not to want to go and see.

Music is an important part of their lives, it is what brought the two of them together. While Chloe still adores it, while she still sings constantly, it is something more of a hobby for her now. She has her veterinary career to keep her busy in a vocational sense, but music has remained everything to Beca. It is her job, it is in the way Beca expresses herself, and to hear Beca Mitchell make music is to know true, unbridled passion. It is the purest, most beautiful joy to behold, and Chloe cannot help but follow the soft sound floating from the living room to witness Beca when she is truly in her element.

She pads slowly at first, not wanting to disturb Beca’s musical flow, but apparently Beca must mess up a part of her song, something Chloe genuinely wouldn’t even notice if it was not for the way Beca quickly stops and mutters out an aggravated curse, the room effectively growing quiet and lending attention to the soft sound of Chloe’s bare feet tapping against the wood of the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” Beca says through a defeated sigh, shoulders slumping as she turns on her small piano bench to shoot an apologetic look in Chloe’s direction. “I knew I shouldn’t have done this while you were sleeping, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No,” Chloe shakes her head, shuffling closer to rest a hand delicately against Beca’s tensed shoulder. “You didn’t wake me.”

The scrunch to Beca’s nose tells Chloe that she doesn’t altogether believe her, but she chooses not to press, so Chloe only offers her a gentle smile, before padding over to slip comfortably into the space on the bench beside Beca.

“What were you playing?” Chloe hums, body melting beneath the way Beca turns her head to press a soft kiss to Chloe’s shoulder. “It sounded really beautiful, Bec.”

“Something new,” Beca murmurs, mouth still resting delicately against her shoulder. “Still needs some work. How was your nap?”

“It was good,” Chloe shrugs, though she is far more interested in Beca, far more interested in prolonging the amount of time Beca puts the focus on herself. “Will you play it for me?” she motions toward the piano, then glances down to the way Beca is still resting against her, gray-blue hues staring up at her through fanned lashes.

“Uh, I don’t know, Chlo,” Beca frowns, “Like I said, it still needs some work. Like, a lot of work,” she chuckles quietly, though they are both very well aware of how difficult a time Beca has when it comes to saying no to Chloe. All it takes is an exaggerated pout and a bat of her lashes for Beca to suck in a deep breath through her nose, and to easily relent. “You’re a pain,” she teases, shooting Chloe a heatless glare, before pushing another soft peck to her shoulder, then dutifully straightening up.

“I am,” Chloe agrees proudly, shuffling comfortably on the spot as she waits for Beca to begin to play.

Beca positions her fingers against the white keys, and Chloe’s gaze naturally follows her movements, hand instinctively settling over her small yet rapidly growing bump.

Chloe doesn’t play piano. She doesn’t play any instruments, in fact, so it always serves to amaze her as she watches Beca playing so expertly, so beautifully. It is like watching magic unfold, the way Beca’s fingers dance along the keys in such a fluid motion, and as the soft melody plays out around them, Chloe finds her own fingers gently tapping against her stomach, keeping time with Beca’s slow, somehow haunting creation.

She does this often; cradles the growing bump protruding from her small frame. Chloe does not know whether it is a protective thing or simply a form of comfort, but regardless, she does it a lot. As Beca plays, though, this is the first time Chloe has ever felt such a distinct movement back.

“Bec,” Chloe cuts into the soft sound, with Beca immediately pausing the rhythm of her fingers. Chloe glances down toward her stomach with a slightly hanging jaw.

“What? What happened?” Beca jumps instantly into natural panic mode, body twisting to better face Chloe. “Is it the baby? What’s going on?”

Chloe’s eyes are still trained on her stomach, hand still settled in the exact same place as another soft kick pushes against her palm.

“The baby kicked, they’re kicking,” Chloe says in a voice filled with awe. She doesn’t want to stop touching, doesn’t want to stop feeling the most incredible, most exciting sensation she has ever experienced, but she wants Beca to experience it, too. Quickly lifting her other arm over her middle, Chloe’s fingers wrap coddlingly around Beca’s hand to place gently by her own.

“Holy shit,” Beca practically chokes, hand slipping beneath Chloe’s to feel the movement directly. She glances upward through widened irises swirling with amazement, and Chloe responds with the kind of smile that will not stay at bay even beneath the way her teeth have sunk slowly into her bottom lip.

Beca’s body twists closer, free hand moving to rest over Chloe’s bump now, too. “Babe, oh my God,” she gasps, words quiet and awestricken. “I feel them. That’s…”

“I know,” Chloe nods gently, watching the interaction between her wife and their unborn child with a kind of love she cannot even fathom, that she cannot even attempt to put into words.

And Chloe has heard about these milestones, always thought it would be an adorable thing to get to feel for herself, but nothing could’ve prepared her for that look of utter wonder on the face of the woman she loves. Nobody could’ve ever told her how much true adoration she would be filled with as a shiny film of joyful tears swept over Beca’s gaze, causing the same to well up in Chloe’s brightened eyes, too.

“God,” Beca breathes, one hand slipping from Chloe’s stomach to instead grasp tenderly at her cheek, until she can stretch up and brush a slow peck to Chloe’s curved lips. “That’s so fucking cool.”

Chloe giggles quietly into the small kiss, head nodding gently. “It’s very cool,” she agrees, fingers brushing against Beca’s where their hands both splay protectively across her bump. “Bec, I think our baby really liked your song.”

Beca’s soft chuckle in response precedes her other hand rising to Chloe’s opposite cheek, until she can cup her face in the most delicate grasp. She pulls back from her lips, two sets of glossy blue eyes boring into one another. They do not need words, don’t need to verbalize anything to know how they are both feeling. They simply stare in a wordless exchange, Beca’s head gently nodding to tell Chloe that whatever she is thinking, however she is feeling, Beca is feeling it, too.

They have always been on the same page like that; their immeasurable love for their baby is no exception.

It really is all so, so worth it. It is so worth it for this.

[autolovecraft]

Perhaps he screamed.

Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it. Most distinctly Birch was lax, insensitive, and professionally undesirable; yet I still think he was not perfectly sober, he subsequently admitted; though he had not then taken to the wholesale drinking by which he later tried to forget certain things. The borders of the space were entirely of brick, and there seemed little doubt but that he could shortly chisel away enough to allow his body to pass. The moon was shining on the scattered brick fragments and marred facade, and the overhead ventilation funnel virtually none at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner.

Being without superstition, he did not care to imagine.

He was curiously unelated over his impending escape, and almost dreaded the exertion, for his form had the indolent stoutness of early middle age. He had, it seems, planned in vain when choosing the stoutest coffin for the right grave. Clutching the edges of the aperture, he sought to pull himself up, when he noticed a queer retardation in the form of an apparent drag on both his ankles. The undertaker grew doubly lethargic in the bitter weather, and seemed to outdo even himself in carelessness.

I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. He was merely crass of fiber and function—thoughtless, careless, and liquorish, as his easily avoidable accident proves, and without that modicum of imagination which holds the average citizen within certain limits fixed by taste. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, but you always did go too damned far! Then the doctor came with his medicine-case and asked crisp questions, and removed the patient's outer clothing, shoes, and socks.

Davis left, urging Birch to insist at all times that his wounds were caused entirely by loose nails and splintering wood. In the semi-gloom he trusted mostly to touch to select the right one, and indeed came upon it almost by accident, since it tumbled into his hands as if through some odd volition after he had unwittingly placed it beside another on the third layer. In either case it would have been appropriate; for the hole was on exactly the right level to use as soon as its size might permit. Over the door, however, the high, slit-like transom in the brick facade gave promise of possible enlargement to a diligent worker; hence upon this his eyes long rested as he racked his brains for means to reach it. It may have been mocking. In this twilight too, he began to realize the truth and to shout loudly as if his horse outside could do more than neigh an unsympathetic reply. Several of the coffins began to split under the stress of handling, and he vaguely wished it would stop. Why did you do it, Birch? You know what a fiend he was for revenge—how he ruined old Raymond thirty years after their boundary suit, and how he stepped on the puppy that snapped at him a year ago last August … He was the devil incarnate, Birch, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself.

He was just dizzy and careless enough to annoy his sensitive horse, which as he drew it viciously up at the tomb neighed and pawed and tossed its head, much as on that former occasion when the rain had vexed it. Why did you do it, Birch? The thing must have happened at about three-thirty in the afternoon. Sawyer died of a malignant fever.

Fortunately the village was small and the death rate low, so that it was possible to give all of Birch's inanimate charges a temporary haven in the single antiquated receiving tomb.

After a full two hours Dr. Davis left, urging Birch to insist at all times that his wounds were caused entirely by loose nails and splintering wood. He was the devil incarnate, Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you got what you deserved. Birch, just as I thought! The tower at length finished, and his hands shook as he dressed the mangled members; binding them as if he wished to get the wounds out of sight as quickly as possible.