#I WAS JUST TUCKING INTO BED WHEN I SAW THIS FROM MOBILE...

[skullreaped]

and now i can use anon to say that i love you!!! you're super rad and i hope that this new year brings you happiness!!!!!

HEY WWAIT HOLD ON NOW

[politemenacephd]

A Winter Stroll

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader (ft. baby Gabriella)

Short AU where you and Miguel take your baby Gabi for a stroll in the park while its cold. Pure romantic fluff.

Word count: 1992

‘Hey, are you sure she’s covered?’

You glanced up and watched your breath turn to smoke in the air, its haze obscuring the face now glancing down at you from above. You watched it dissipate.

Miguel was staring down at you, his gloved hands manically rubbing against each other as he tried to warm them up.

‘Hmm? You mean Gabi?’

You turned from your beloved partner to what you'd been pushing; a clean, padded purple stroller that you’d only just bought, currently carrying the most precious cargo in the world to you both.

Little Gabi peeked out from beneath her coverings, her big brown eyes blinking against the cold. You instinctively bent down to check on her.

‘Hey, baby girl. You okay?’

You’d decided to take a small break and go on a walk in the local park, just something to get Miguel out and about. He was usually so restless but since Gabi was born he’d been nearly bed bound, utterly fixed to her side. His favourite thing was to spoon you beneath the sheets in your shared bed while facing Gabi’s crib, watching the mobile spin as she gurgled and cooed, holding you all in his grip and never letting go. If he had the chance he’d do that until the end of time.

But you insisted he at least get some movement into his day, and so he’d agreed to this short stroll, not realizing just how chilly it still was.

It was the kind of cold you could smell. When you breathed in through the nose it stung just a little, and all you could really scent was the ice on the grass.

Because of this the park was almost empty, spare for one woman and her dog in the distance, and the trees were bare and dark. The sky was empty and blue, like a still ocean in a timeless void. The world had been coated in a kind of dull, muted sheen, a dreamlike dullness.

Everything was still, quiet, sleeping. The grass crunched underfoot, and your shoes made little echoing clacks on the hard pavement when you walked across it. There was no sound but the single chirping of a robin somewhere nearby.

It was serene, to you, but to Miguel it was a little bit terrifying.

‘Gabi’s fine’ you insisted, gently reaching down to show her. She was utterly bundled in blankets and was wearing her oversized little parka onesie in his favourite shade of purple, and the only thing you could see was her little nose and her big eyes. She was blinking slowly, too young to really see but too curious to sleep.

Miguel curled his lip, his brows knotting against his will. ‘Mm- let me, just, check her again, please? Mi tesoro?’

‘Oh Miggy, you—okay, okay. You check her all you want.’

You graciously stepped aside for him to bend over, and he did, though not before giving your cold nose a quick kiss. You giggled at his insistence.

The moment he got close to Gabi his face lit up. Those old, worn, tired lines seemed to melt away in her presence. He looked so much younger.

With her father now in her line of sight Gabi’s eyes suddenly locked on. She focused in on his face and warbled softly.

‘Hola, mi amor’ he whispered. Gabi garbled a little louder in response.

When he smiled his breath condensed around his bared fangs, a soft white mist that highlighted the pearly sheen of his teeth. You saw the little wrinkles by his eyes when he smiled, the sign of a man who was gleefully exhausted.

‘Ah, mi bebita. ¿Tienes frío?’

Gabi gurgled beneath her pile of blankets. She managed to get one tiny fist free but Miguel immediately tucked it back in, though he did pause to admire how small it looked in his own enormous hand. Her little fist barely covered his thumb.

‘Sweetheart, she can’t talk yet’ you gently reminded him. You bent until you were at the same height, gently easing him away from the object of his obsession. His eyes were wide beneath the stray locks of his hair, big and soft and red.

‘I- I know, that, but—’

‘Mhm. You always say you know, and yet, you just keep doing it.’ You couldn’t help but chuckle at him, and despite his awkwardness he smiled back.

‘I just want to be sure she’s okay’ he whispered. With your smile still straining your cheeks you gently bumped your temple against his.

‘I know. But you know I want that too, right?’

‘Of course, mi tesoro! I wasn’t suggesting otherwise.’

‘Mhm. I know, but, consider, that constantly asking if she’s warm enough, it—’

You held out your hand to prompt him, and he begrudgingly shrugged. ‘It- sounds like I don’t trust you to do a good enough job.’

‘There you go. You know you’re very smart, you should be a scientist maybe. Have you thought about that?’

‘Aha, funny. Diablilla.’

You giggled as he gently clacked his fangs on your cheek.

‘You wanna keep going? We can turn back if you really want, in all honesty I don’t want to freak you out’ you said.

Miguel shook his head. ‘No, no, you’re right. She’s fine. You know best, as always.’

‘Oh my god- you big suck up’ you teasingly chided.

‘Mhm. Happily. The most beautiful creature in the world’ he said, his finger lightly brushing your cheek. You snorted in reply.

‘I don’t know about that. My- nose is running into my scarf, and my hair—’

Your list of complaints was stifled as Miguel put a single finger to your lips, smooshing them shut. With his gaze fixed on your's he then gently pulled up his sleeve and wiped your nose clean.

‘Beautiful’ he repeated, without a shadow of doubt or hesitation.

Despite the cold, you felt your body burning up.

‘Alright, you—come on, let’s go’ you said, trying to cover how coy you’d suddenly gotten. Miguel hid his smug smile at having very much already noticed it.

With his fears now quelled you both pulled back and continued walking, with your hands on the stroller and Miguel’s arm around your waist. He squeezed you tight to his side. Your head was squished against his pec beneath his jacket, and the woven material was soft against your cold skin. You relished the feeling.

‘Do you think it’s likely to snow soon?’ Miguel asked as you rounded the corner to the pond. You noticed that a light sheen of ice was covering the water.

‘Mm- if I had to give an educated guess… Probably?’ You hunched both shoulders as you weight the option with both hands.

‘Mm. I can’t wait till she’s older. It’ll be so nice to take her out when she can enjoy the snow’ Miguel said with a dreamy sigh.

‘Oh my god- I’m sorry, did you just said you can’t wait till she’s older?’

Your scoffing drew Miguel’s eyes back to you. He looked surprised. ‘Hm? Yes. Why, is that, strange?’ he asked.

‘For you? The man who almost cried when she didn’t fit into her very first onesie, the one she was put into when she was born? Yeah, it’s strange.’

‘Hey, don’t be mean. That’s different’ he insisted.

‘No, no it's not. You’re going to lament her getting older at every turn.’

‘Well- that's natural, isn't it? She’s just so- small’ he objected, trying his best to seem stoic while clearly whining. You felt his claws coming out as he squeezed you a little closer. ‘She’s my baby.'

‘And she’ll be your baby whether she’s one month old, or one year old, or thirty years old, or- god, eighty years old, you big soppy idiot’ you lightly teased, raising one hand to grab his thickset jaw. You squished his cheeks with your thumb and fingers and shook him until he chuckled.

‘Okay. Okay. Point taken. But I mean it, it’ll be nice to see if she enjoys the snow’ Miguel said.’

‘Oh it’ll be great. I bet she’ll be a real wild card, I think she’ll like snowball fights. She’ll beat our asses some day.’

‘You think so?’

‘Oh I KNOW so, she’s her father’s daughter. A menace.’

‘Menace? No, not my bebita, she’s itty bitty’ Miguel insisted. You just kept giggling.

‘Mm, no, nope, no, menace. Little menace.’

You bent and gently waved your fingers on Gabi’s cheeks as she cooed, a sound that never failed to melt your heart.

‘Menace’ you repeated affectionately. ‘Our little menace.’

For a little while longer you enjoyed the cold in peace and quiet. You were comfortable being quiet with Mig, or by letting your actions speak for you. Every little bump of your head into his bicep, every squeeze of his hand, each time he silently checked if your nose was close and subsequently kissed it. That was all enough.

But as you rounded towards the end of your walk, that silence ended.

‘Hey, I uh—’

Miguel coughed to catch your attention, drawing you to look at him again. He was avoiding your gaze now, which you found a little odd, with his free hand gently rubbing his jaw.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course, beautiful man. You go right ahead.’

You returned to watching the pathway ahead as you waited for Miguel to speak. He coughed a second time to pluck up his courage, a sight that was strange for such an imposing man.

‘Ah- can—can we have another one?’ he whispered.

You almost tripped over your own feet in shock.

‘Ah, shit— sweetheart, are you okay?!’ Miguel moved fast to stabilize you that his claws expanded. You shot him an incredulous look.

‘Mig- Miguel, she is three months old!’ you hissed. ‘What do you mean another one?!’

‘I just meant, you’re- you make such beautiful babies’ he whispered, his voice as low as possible while remaining just as intense as if he’d shouted. You felt your whole body tingle at the unexpected softness.

‘And Gabi looks so lonely, you know, she—’ Miguel was stumbling on his words as you put your hands to your hips. ‘You just- beautiful babies, really, just the most- beautiful. She's so perfect. And she looks lonely.’

‘My god, what a compelling argument’ you said drolly, though you could feel yourself already smiling. ‘I don’t know though, it’s been a while. You might be out of practise for making more.’

You savoured the little spark in his eyes, the gleam of red that brightened his gaze. It was an intrinsic curiosity, a deep-rooted hunger for one specific thing.

‘Mhm. Mhm. Well- I’d, have to prove you otherwise then, wouldn’t I?’ he whispered back. You hated how quickly you melted at his husky voice.

‘You would’ you said, leaning in closer. You held him there, with those narrowed eyes and that eager smile, before bringing him down with a gently clap to the chest. ‘You would, if we didn’t have a literal newborn.’

‘Oh, mi tesoro—’

‘Come on dummy, let’s get home’ you said, your voice firm even though you were still smiling. ‘If she falls asleep when we get in, I might be able to make time for a quick shower. You know, to get warm again.’

The way Miguel arched his neck the moment you said ‘shower’ never failed to amuse you. He certainly looked extra large beneath all that padded clothing.

‘Mm… Okay. Deal.’

To your surprise, Miguel then quickly swooped the stroller out of your hands and began pushing Gabi home, all while cooing at her over the rim.

‘Shh, you’re feeling sleepy, aren’t you bebita? ¿Estás cansada? ¿Si?’

As Miguel resorted to singing lullabies you were forced to jog slightly to catch up with him, your panted breath billowing clouds of smoke around your flustered face.

Sadly, while Miguel did get that shower, you were both too cold to indulge in anything but huddling together like sad penguins, and jealously hogging the water as much as you could.

[tiramisuucakeee]

1. BADGE AND SCRUBS

( crossfire , yang jungwon )

walking quickly through the cold hospital hallway toward the busy main desk, you caught the attention of a frantic nurse. she kept glancing at her stethoscope and the patient through the glass window. "doctor! thank god you're here. the patient just woke up and won’t let anyone check on him. we need you, he keeps pushing the nurses away," she gasped as you nodded and followed her into the room.

the man sat comfortably on the blue hospital bed with his arms crossed, his iv ripped out of one of them. when he saw you enter through his peripheral vision, his expression shifted slightly to a more nicer one. "so they called you."

"they did," you replied with a smile, putting on plastic gloves to dispose of the iv needle in the biological hazards bin. he shrugged at your actions and simply said, "i don't like not moving my arm."

you began your examination, shining a light into his eyes, checking his heartbeat, and assessing his mobility. he seemed surprisingly well for someone who had just undergone brain surgery, but then again, some people reacted differently. and with your level of experience, you had seen all kinds of cases, from the very best outcomes, to the unfortunately bad ones.

"yes, i wouldn’t like not being able to move my arm either," you uttered, stepping back. "i’ll be back later tonight to check on you, but in the meantime, please let the nurses do their jobs, alright?" you raised your brows, tucking your hands into your scrub pockets

he rolled his eyes but muttered his agreement, which made you smile again. "great, i’ll let your family know you’re out of surgery, they’ve been very worried and are still at the hospital," you added.

his family had been nonstop asking every resident and nurse they saw in the lobby if he had woken up, even staying as late in the night to make sure they would be here as soon as he did.

his expression brightened. "they have? well, bring them here! i want to see them," he said, straightening up in bed. this was a sight you couldn’t grow tired of seeing, patients coming out of successful surgeries and being glad to spend the rest of their days alive with their loved ones.

"right away," you replied, nodding slightly as you prepared to leave. passing by the nurse, you leaned in to say, "page me if anything happens. i just got off, but i’ll be nearby." your serious tone underscored the urgency of the situation.

she agreed and bid you goodbye as you headed to the locker room to change. upon arrival, you greeted a few doctors and started preparing for the evening ahead. after a long day filled with surgeries, you were finally free from the hospital, even if it was late at night. some procedures had stretched on for up to five hours, but that was nothing compared to the marathon shifts you’d been in the past.

stepping outside, you walked to your car, parked neatly in your own space, and pulled onto the road. as you drove carefully, you gazed at the dark sky, soon approaching a familiar spot in the city you often visited with your friends of coworkers. the karaoke bar.

opening the door, you were welcomed by the warm ambiance of healthcare and other high-stress workers enjoying their time off here. the owner appreciated this crowd, knowing that those jobs contributed significantly to his business, and plus, he always had either a cop, doctor or firefighter a few feet away in case of an emergency.

you took a seat at the bar and greeted the bartender, who quickly took your order for a sparkling cold water and some chips. you opted for a non-alcoholic drink, knowing you needed to stay alert in case you received a page.

your drink and chips soon arrived, and you thanked the bartender before turning your attention to the karaoke stage, who was occupied like always. a group of friends was enthusiastically singing a song, their voices blending with laughter and cheers from the crowd. the energy in the room was infectious, and you found yourself tapping your foot along to the beat.

then, one of the singers caught your eye, a guy in the middle with charming dimples that deepened with every smile and word. his brown hair remained messy on top of his head, his brown eyes brightening with the colorful lights.

as if sensing your gaze, he glanced over and locked eyes with you, throwing a playful wink your way through the music and laughter.

you shook your head, and smiled back, but thought nothing of it. he continued to sing a few lines of the song, his gaze still locked on you. but just as you were about to raise your glass to cheer at him, your phone rang in your purse.

you glanced at the screen and sighed, knowing you had to answer. “hello?” you said, trying to keep your disappointment at bay.

“doctor l/n, we need you back in about an hour. a patient is being transferred from another hospital, they don’t have a neurosurgeon available,” the nurse informed you, her tone urgent.

you nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “i’ll be there in half, make sure the o.r is ready when i get there, and wake my assisting doctors up,” you replied, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the stage. the lively atmosphere faded into the background as you pushed around your food in the plate.

“they’re not answering the pages doctor, their cellphones are off too, should we get other assisting?” she asked, making you roll your eyes.

“i don’t care if they are not answering, they are still at the hospital, and i know they don’t have any surgeries right now, so go wake them up from the dorms and let them know that if they don’t show up ready by the time i step into that hospital, i’ll personally make sure they never assist anyone in a surgery again,” you spoke, and hung up.

“what is wrong with these people? they can’t just chose not to operate on a patient,” you scoffed, not believing what you heard about them declining the calls. they should be worried and anxious to receive calls, not happy to ignore them.

sometimes you just wished you’d never become a surgeon in first place, it was hard to have the lives of peoples on your hand while you dealt with some incompetent doctors and nurses that thought they could just sit all day, check on a single patient, hand out bandaids and make money. but the feeling of seeing patients healthy after a surgery you performed was something you wouldn’t get anywhere, even if you had to deal with some seriously mad people who believed they were king’s of the worlds with a speciality.

though it was difficult to have time for others than patients in your job, you still managed to have close friends, one who was a pediatrician and another who was in emergencies. two wasn’t much, but it was all you thought you needed.

they didn’t think it though, they were obsessed with the idea of making you go on blind dates and meet guys so you could get a boyfriend and ‘chill out’, but you disliked wasting your time in that, instead, you preferred being out by yourself, and occasionally with them.

you barely had time for yourself, and they thought you’d have time for a guy. though, deep down, you knew they were right about you settling down.

on the other hand, at the opposite side of the bar, the group of friends finally settled down at their table, exhausted from all the singing and jumping around. it had been a wild night filled with laughter, off-key notes, and spontaneous dance moves that left them breathless. despite their serious jobs as special agents, they had a knack for letting loose and embracing the chaos of life.

“sunoo, why are you wasting your life being a crime investigator? you could’ve been a member of a boyband,” jay said, chugging down his drink, the alcohol leaving a slight sting in his dry throat. he leaned back in his chair, eyeing sunoo.

the one he referred to only deadpanned, leaning back in his chair too but with an air of indifference. “sure,” he replied, barely masking his amusement. sunoo shook his head, a playful smirk creeping onto his face as he turned to the other of the trio. “you know, jungwon, i thought you flirted better. i really did. what was that wink you just did to that girl?” he teased, mimicking the exaggerated gesture with a dramatic flair that had him cracking up.

jungwon froze, having been caught off guard, and offered a nervous smile. “oh, it was nothing,” he dismissed, though his eyes darted over to you, who were furiously typing in your phone. the way you focused, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together in concentration, made him momentarily forget the teasing.

“yeah, nothing,” sunoo snorted, covering his smile with his hand. he leaned closer, clearly enjoying jungwon's nervousness.

“wait, what happened?” jay blinked, clearly lost in the conversation. he glanced between sunoo and jungwon, trying to piece together the unfolding drama. “did he actually try to flirt with someone, or are you just messing with him?” his curiosity was evident, and the playful energy in the room only grew as sunoo leaned in closer, ready to spill the details. jungwon, caught off guard, shot him a pleading look, but it was too late, the moment was too ripe for sunoo to resist, as jungwon had never tried anything like this before.

sunoo started explaining how he saw jungwon trying to flirt with a girl while they sang and even pointed at her in the middle of the song, but jay didn’t believe it.

jungwon just kept looking away, his eyes often traveling back to your figure, and left quickly, as he could not figure out if he’d seen you before or not.

“you need to get her name so we can search her up and see her profile,” jay nodded at his friends, a teasing grin on his face. “we can’t have you dating anyone with criminal records.” he laughed, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

“what? i am not doing that!” jungwon defended himself, a hint of indignation in his voice. “also, she doesn’t look like a criminal,” he added, motioning to you with a slight smile, as if that was all the evidence he needed.

both turned in your direction and were completely taken aback by jungwon’s choice of women. they hadn’t expected you to be so different from what they thought his type was, but in a good way. you had an effortless charm and a vibe that radiated confidence, completely contrasting with the image of the old bar.

sunoo raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “okay, maybe we need to reconsider our assumptions,” he said, nudging jay, who was equally surprised.

“still, i am not going over there to interrogate her,” jungwon sighed. the idea of checking you out felt both ridiculous and oddly appealing. he shifted in his seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and intrigue as he tried to focus on anything but the lingering thought of how to approach you normally.

“well if you aren’t, then i am,” jay declared, standing up and pressing his hands on the table with determination. but just as he started to stride over, sunoo yanked him back down by his jacket. “don’t embarrass yourself, that’s dumb” he said, laughter in his voice.

jay fell back in his chair, grumbling, “i’m not dumb, i’m cautious. now, jungwon,” he started, shifting his focus and getting jungwon’s attention, “you go over there, place a hand on her shoulder, and greet her. then, offer to get her something to drink.” he nodded firmly, as if this was the key to success.

jungwon blinked, confusion etched on his face. “i am not actually going to talk to her, i thought it was a joke,” he laughed nervously, adjusting his loose tie as if it might somehow give him more confidence. the laughter around the table faded for a moment as his friends exchanged knowing glances.

sunoo audibly groaned at jungwon’s comment, standing up and pulling his friend to his feet. “come on, enough of this!” he exclaimed, barely giving jungwon a chance to protest before pushing him away from the table. “you’re overthinking it!”

jungwon stumbled slightly, a mix of surprise and reluctance on his face. “wait, sunoo-” he started, but jungwon was too far away to just back down, plus, it wouldn’t hurt talking to you. if you had a boyfriend, you could just reject him, and if you didn’t, we’ll, he’d have to think of an escape plan.

he cautiously walked through the crowd, each step filled with uncertainty, until he finally reached the bar where you were sitting. as soon as he saw your face up close, jay’s little speech went out the window. the nervousness he’d felt moments ago melted away, replaced by an unexpected sense of ease. maybe he didn’t need an escape plan after all.

truthfully, he wasn’t the best at speaking with women. the only ones he’d really talked to were family and coworkers, all older and married. sometimes he wished for that connection, to feel loved and cared for like he did with others all the time with a job like his. though, it felt complicated, like he was always balancing responsibilities with the desire for something more. this was a chance to be genuine, to take a step toward what he truly wanted.

he mustered up all the courage he had and walked up to you, clearing his throat with a slightly awkward fake cough to get your attention. when you turned to look at him, a hint of surprise in your eyes, he felt his heart race.

"may i sit here?" he asked, mentally cursing himself for sounding like a nervous high schooler asking to join someone at lunch. he felt a flush creeping up his neck as he waited for your response.

instead of giving him a weird look, you smiled warmly. "of course." that simple response made jungwon feel a rush of relief, but the nerves still bubbled inside him, threatening to overwhelm. unsure of what to do next, he fumbled with his words, searching for something clever or interesting to say.

but luckily, you saved the awkwardness that would follow if either of you stayed silent. “so, what’s your name, karaoke guy?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink, a playful glint in your eyes.

jungwon looked down and smiled, letting his dimples poke his cheeks. “yang jungwon, and you?” he asked, looking back up at you, his nervousness slowly fading.

“y/n l/n,” you replied, meeting his gaze with a friendly smile.

“you come to this bar often?” he leaned on his hand, his curiosity piqued. he genuinely wanted to know more about you and what drew you here.

you squinted your eyes at him, pursing your lips playfully. “why? do i look like an alcoholic?” you teased, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. to this, he immediately panicked, stuttering out a response. “no, i never said that! i mean, i come here too, and i’m not an alcoholic!” he laughed shyly, the embarrassment creeping in. he was worried he’d said something completely wrong.

you looked away, a smirk forming. "i do come here often. it’s the only place near the hospital that’s open at night."

“wait, you’re a doctor?” jungwon’s eyes widened, genuine surprise lighting up his face. the realization made him even more intrigued by you. it was great that you were all so captivating, and also probably had a lot of determination.

“doctor l/n to you, head of neurosurgery, one of the best in the country,” you said, a mix of pride and seriousness in your voice. you met his eyes again, noticing how captivated he seemed. "what about you?" you asked.

“i’m kind of working with the police,” jungwon said, still in shock at being in the presence of such an important person. the idea of your worlds intertwining intrigued him, and he couldn’t help but wonder how your paths might cross in more ways than one.

“kind of?” you frowned.

“not kind of, sorry, i am,” he corrected himself. “but, talking about you again, as a doctor, i imagine you have very little time for anything right?” he asked nicely.

"my life is at stake for others' lives," you said, pressing your lips together, suddenly reminded that you had promised to be back at the hospital soon. "listen, jungwon, it was really nice meeting you, but i have to go back-" you started, but he cut you off.

"of course, do you have a ride? i can take you if you’d like," he offered, his concern evident as he inched a bit closer.

you shook your head gently. "i brought my car, and i wouldn’t want to pull you away from your friends." you nodded toward them, who were watching you intently but quickly averted their gazes when they caught your eye.

jungwon chuckled, a soft smile playing on his lips. “it’s okay, they’ll live without me for a bit.” there was a sincerity in his voice that made your heart beat. his relaxed demeanor was infectious, and you found yourself drawn to the genuine warmth he exuded.

he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “honestly, i’d rather be here with you than over there.”.

“really?” you asked. “what’s so special about this conversation?” the playful glint in your eyes encouraged him to say something.

jungwon’s breath caught in his throat for a moment. "well, we’d have to meet again for you to find out," he mustered out a reply, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he looked down at you. something about him made you feel like he was actually interested, but you couldn’t risk it, not now, not when you had a lot of things going on.

“looking forward to it,” you challenged lightly, your voice barely above a whisper, and you leaned back, not realizing the weigh of your words on him.

he helped you down from the tall stool, his hand brushing against yours, sending a thrill through you. "i just mean it. it was great meeting you, y/n."

you met his intense gaze. "thanks, jungwon. you too."

turning to leave, you took a last good look at him before probably not seeing him again after this night, his brown hair slightly toloused, his warm demeanor, and those two dimples that poked his cheeks every time he smiled your way, it made you want to not go back to the hospital ever and stay the whole night talking to him. but that was something that was simply never going to happen, even if you did enjoy being there more than anything.

as you made your way to your sports car, thoughts of yang jungwon flooded your mind, you had just met this man and somehow he had made his presence known to you, and it would be undeniably difficult to make him leave.

BTW: i h8 this chapter and first meetings with a burning passion. somehow i can write fight scenes perfectly fine but not even a good paragraph of first meetings. like, let me cook guys, the other chapters r gonna be good because they alr met and went through the awkward phase. also, pls have mercy on me if i get anything wrong, i am not a doctor nor a cop so i’m just basing this on shows.

EXTRA:

masterlist.

next chapter.

all chapters.

[snakegorl212006]

First encounter: the possessed doll

You wonder if this place truly is magical. At Least magically filling your stomach and magically keeping the house clean. Today was no different. You arrived late at home today. Your boss ,being as demanding as he is, asked you to stay late despite your discomfort but money is money and papers need to meet their deadlines. You opened the door and the familiar smell of food wafted inside the house. After taking off your shoes, you head to the kitchen to see your plate. Food was always different, something the realtor agent told you about. You always assumed a private chef volunteered to cook your meals or maybe your weird boss sent this person just to apologize for his ego,what you like to think. Today, chicken fried rice, (your favorite drink) and some mixed vegetables was served in manageable portions. You chowed down at the meal making sure you thanked the mystical force that blessed you with this delicious meal. You placed the empty plates in the sink as you washed your hands. After, you head to your room and begin to prepare for bed. There laying on your bed were your newly washed nightclothes. Although it freaked you out a little, the realtor agent told you this. It’s probably just the maid again. You grabbed the night clothes and headed to the adjacent bathroom and began your shower/bath. Refresh and clean you’re ready to go to bed when you've forgotten something. Your phone. You remember leaving it in the dining room so you put on your robe and head to the dining room only to see your phone wasn't on the table. Ok… it’s in the kitchen you thought. You turned around to face the kitchen when you saw a man… a tall man stood in the middle of the kitchen facing away from you, washing the dishes. Your blood went cold and your breath became shallow. There’s a man IN YOUR FREAKING KETCHEN. “Your mobile device is on the counter,” the man said. His voice was soothing and calm, unbothered by your reaction. The man paused and turned to face you. His violet eyes softened as he looked at you. “You look exhausted, qīn'ài de” he commented. He grabbed your phone and walked towards you. You wanted to run but you felt frozen. Paralyzed. He placed the phone in your robe pocket and then carried you to your room and placed you on the floor where you buckled and fell backwards to the wall. You tried to make your escape by simply slipping away while he prepared the bed for you only to trip and land on the floor. You looked at your ankles to see a slimy black substance following the inky trail. You see that man who now glared at you “why are you running away from your husband” he asked harshly, in contrast to how sweet he spoke to you before. He dragged you back to him and retreated the inky tentacle from you and back inside his body “right! Silly me I forgot” he smiled as he picked you up and tucked you into bed “you haven’t seen me until now~ that’s ok I’ll forgive you this time.” he adds as he gets up and closed the blinds and closets before returning to your side “I want to have breakfast with you tomorrow, I’ll make your favorite” he beamed as he strokes your hair. “Who…who are you?” you mumbled. He tilted his head then smiled “Xuán. I’m your husband” he stated as he kissed the top of your forehead, a wave of drowsiness washed over you as you began to lose sight “Hànshuǐ mèngxiǎng, wǒ de xīn”

—----English translations—- qīn'ài de = honey Hànshuǐ mèngxiǎng, wǒ de xīn = Sweet dreams,my heart

[violetswritingg]

Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

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2

May, 2010

Oklahoma

They say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and they would be right. And twelve year old Riley St. James was anything if not her father's daughter. She had grown up watching him chase storms, had been in front of the camera for a little more than some of it. The older chasers out there remember her as Rocket. Always causing chaos whenever her dad brought her around, getting under people's feet and just always wanting to be in on the action.

Not much has changed as she got older, if anything, it only got worse. She had been in front of the camera yes but she had been limited to watching from home with her grandma in bed, her Aunt tucked beside her on the couch, holding her hand and both holding their breath to see if Nathan would make it back to them in one piece. Even though most people would find that stressful the St. James family was anything but normal.

"Riley Josephine Thornton-St. James! Get back in this vehicle right now!" Her dad's voice barely carried out the open window of the Warlock, affectionately nicknamed the St. James mobile by the fans. The 'truck' was more of a tank. 3 inches of steel layered on the outside, a lowering capability on the suspension, a steel skirt around the bottom to keep out air flow and x-wing doors, three-foot-long spikes set up to pierce into the ground to anchor them in should a tornado get to close, or they want to get in the eye of it. Not to mention the double paned, double layered three-inch think Plexi-glass windows.

A street legal tank. In other words.

Riley's grin was bright, even though her baby hair was plastered to her face, despite her effort this morning to make sure it was all braided back when they had left the house, clothes soaked, but she had never been happier.

"One sec!" Riley was never one to be too far from her camera in moments like this. The expensive machinery wrapped protectively in its own little rain poncho and was snapping photos as fast as it could.

The storm they had been tracking since this morning had been playing with them all morning, looking like it was going to touch down and then not, moving on and doing it again. They had been trying to intercept but missing every time, it was shifting its travel and wind speed and making it hard to keep up. She saw something though, and her smile got even bigger, "Dad! Look!"

"What are you seeing Riley?!" Her dad, Nathanial St. James, called, leaning as far in her direction as he dared while in control of the car.

"It's gonna touch down! Go go go!" Her free hand slapped the top of the Warlock, clear Plexi-glass under her palm, layered with steel armor and providing the best views of a storm from the safety of inside and flying debris.

"You heard her." Nathan chuckled and shook his head, pressing on the gas and making the next right. On a muddier dirt road now, trying to get in the path of the storm. It didn't take long, Riley started to climb back in reluctantly knowing her dad wouldn't let her stay out there much longer, she was already pushing it as is. But then she noticed the spin of the clouds.

"It's trying dad! Look at the rotation!"

"I see it Nugget! I see it!" They both watched as the storm spun and spun, both holding their breath as the dark clouds descended little by little. Until-

"And we have tornado Gensis!" She screamed and Nathan whooped as it touched down, roaring to life and taking off. Running from them. Riley once again having her camera in her face and snapping away.

"Alrighty! We have a chance here to complete our objective for today here folks and that is getting those telemetry probes into this tornado here and getting a deeper picture of what it's like in the inner vortex of a tornado. We only have a couple sets of this kind of data and with each new set we expand our understanding of these kinds of storms, and when we understand them, we can start trying to figure out how to stop them or disrupt them."

"Why do you have to make everything so boring?!" Riley laughed like a madwoman, only looking away from her view finder for a second to roll her eyes at her dad through the Plexi-glass roof. The older man narrowing his eyes.

"Watch it." Riley just grinned and stuck her tongue out. "Real mature. We could go home ya know?"

"No, we can't. Besides, like you would just leave a chase right after one touches down in front of you." His daughter knew him too well. He chuckled and shook his head. "Are you seeing this dad! It stopped! Slow down!"

Nathan had seen it a second after his daughter, glancing at the video recorder set up beside him, attached to the panel beside the windshield and aimed inside the cabin of the Warlock. People like to see what was happening inside the vehicle too. He knew it was capturing every second and grinned before looking back at the tornado.

"It seems we are witnessing a tornado stand still here folks, what a time to be alive! And what better time than Rocket's first chase! Just a note that this kind of behavior isn't normal for the majority of tornados. It's only been witnessed once before by a friend of mine in last year." Nathan beamed as he started to take his foot off the accelerator. Doing as his daughter asked. Knowing another camera was catching it directly from the view out of the front windshield at the same time. Allowing him to focus on this moment.

The lens caught the proud look bubbling in the father's eyes as he watched his daughter laugh in the rain. Her camera abandoned around her neck as she stuck an arm out, the other securing her inside the car. Her head tilted back as she let out a happy scream. Her mind stuck on how the cold droplets stung her cheeks and made her feel like she had been struck by lightning. Her smile is wide as the sky, feeling the wind pulling at her clothes. Strands of hair getting pulled loose, but she couldn't care less. Skin sticky with humidity that dripped in fat drop along with the rain and small hail pieces that had just started to drop down and sting her skin with every strike.

"It's still not moving. Why is it not moving? It's not going to dissipate, is it?" She yelled over the wind, coming back to the moment. Looking down into the Warlock as much as she could. Her dad's eyes were on the tornado, though, his grin had faded and something settled poorly in Riley's stomach. "No, that's not right, the rotation is still going and – oh shit." She saw the vertices along the storm and her stomach sank. Vertices, to Riley's best understanding, were the streaks of little tornados you see when it's a strong tornado. And she could tell the wind had picked up.

Something dark moved in the corner of her eye and she screamed, dodging something, it was too fast to tell what. But she had a feeling that was a lot closer than her brain was letting her process at this moment, and she could feel the shift in the air.

"Inside. Now!" Riley immediately had her ass in her seat. Harness and seatbelt on and the double layered windows locked up in their storm position. "Good girl, hold on." Her dad reversed.

"No, no, no! Dad the storm is moving north!" Riley pointed to the obvious direction of the tornado, her voice approaching a shrill cry.

"The team already reported it, NWS has it and warning have been issued. We have to get out of here. It's starting to pick up speed." His voice was no-nonsense. Anyone of his team members would nod and follow the orders but not Riley. Because why would his daughter ever listen to him?

"No, we don't! We're still miles out," Throwing her arm to the front, chilled fingers pointing at the distance as if her dad couldn't tell for himself just fine, but she didn't care, she had a point to prove, "Besides, it's still going slow enough right now that we can catch up, get in its path, anchor, launch the probes, and get the data. But only if we go right now! There is nothing in its way, no towns, no nothing. It's the perfect tornado and you know it." She started to rummage around in the back, finding what she was looking for and wrapping a blanket around her.

"Riley." His tone was a warning, too bad his daughter took after him.

"Dad please. I'm not scared." Riley pleaded, "The car will protect us. That's what it's here for yeah?" Looking at him with her big blue eyes was enough to kill him, the father simply crumpling. He had taught her well; she knew what to do. He had to trust her.

"If it gets to be too much, you tell me, we turn around. Got it?" He checked in, needing her to know they would still turn around if she needed them too. No arguments, just fleeing the storm he's usually driving into.

"Got it." Riley nodded, her grin stupidly bright, practically vibrating, "Now North."

"You're gonna kill me one of these days kid." Her dad chuckles and shakes his head. Looking to the video recorder, "You heard her guys. Missions still on." He grabs his walkie and gets in contact with the other half of the team coming up around the back of the storm system. Getting a check-in of all systems go.

"Okay, here we go." Riley muttered after a couple more turns and a shift in direction they had managed to catch up. The swirling streams of air were dark and ominous and Riley shifted in her seat, Nathan noticing, Riley grabbed the tablet from the glove box, it wasn't huge, but it was new and she could see the doppler and radar readings on it. She looked to her dad, seeing what was happening and feeling her chest twist in anxiety, but she didn't show it. She trusted the Warlock, she trusted her dad. they would be okay.

"It's not an EF1 anymore dad." Riley informed, looking to the man with a worried downturn to her young eyebrows.

"I know, trust me I know." Nathan grit, white knuckling the steering wheel, his foot still on the gas. "Hold on!" He called as he sped up.

"It's right there dad!" The mam came to a screeching halt, pulling to the shoulder.

"Warlock lowered, Deploy spikes." Nathan spoke into his walkie, Riley reached to the center console and hit the button that did so. The sound of the hydraulics lost in the cacophony of wind and rain. "Rocket loaded," Nathan muttered into the walkie again, his finger hovering the launch button watching the roof, waiting. Riley watched him in awe, looking up at the tornado, wishing she could understand what was happening fully, but she still had a lot to learn.

The Warlock withholds and Riley is shaking. Her head felt like it was about the explode and the roar of the wind was all she could hear along with her dad screaming that the probes were launched and him telling her to hold on. The wind started to pick up more and the car groaned.

"Dad!" Riley's hands were white knuckling over her harness straps.

"It's okay! Just breathe baby girl. Just breathe! You're doing amazing!"

The car started to get pulled and tilt, Riley screamed as they were rolled down the side of the country road, landing upside down in an irrigation ditch as the tornado continued to push them around in the field. The heavy chassis is the only thing keeping them on the ground at this point. Nathan wanted to curse everything. What happened to the light EF1?!

"Hold on! We're caught in the back draft!" Riley grimaced as they were pulled back in reverse and then spit forward. She could feel the weight of the Warlock shifting and so did her dad. Nathan thrown an arm across his daughter's shoulder's to hold her steady as the Warlock was picked up. The tail end of it lifting up first. When they were fully in the air they didn't stick around long in the tornado. Getting tossed after about 10 seconds inside.

All Riley could see was grey, and dark. Debris flying all around them, her pupils blown as her adrenaline spiked and her palms began to sweat. Her throat closed up and she gripped onto her father's arm for dear life. It was over in the blink of an eye, but it felt like an eternity. And next thing she knew she was weightless before feeling the violent jolt. A crash. And then they were rolling. An involuntary scream left her throat and her dad held onto her tighter.

They rolled until, but by some stroke of luck, they rolled right back onto their tires. The tornado moving away from them now, but instead of demanding to follow it Riley was silent. Her chest fluttering with every sharp breath. Blue eyes wide, pupils blown wider as she shook in her seat.

"Riley? Baby? Look at me, are you hurt? Any blood. Hey, hey!" Nathan's matching irises searched his daughter's face as he questioned her. He was a little shook from that, he can't imagine what she's feeling. It was his raised voice and his hands on her face forcing her eyes to meet his that broke her out of her frozen state. Nathan's eyebrows scrunched heavily in the middle of his forehead, his every pore bleeding worry, fear, for his kid. Normal parent things. He could never tell what she was going to do and she did what she always does, send him for a loop, as she started laughing. Throwing her head forward against her dad's chest. Loud cackles leaving her as the adrenaline hits heavy and leaves her system fast now that they weren't in danger and her shoulders shake. Her dad grins a little but is still trying to find any injuries.

"I'm okay dad, I'm okay." She breathed, letting him push back some of her now dried hair, now much frizzier than before but that was the last of her worries, "I promise. But holy shit!"

Nathan was going to scold her but the water in her eyes cut off his harsh tone in his throat, tears were falling down her face as she kept laughing. And his eyes softened, petting her hair gently.

"I'm right here. We're okay. Just breathe for me, okay? Can you do that?" Nathan knew better than most what adrenaline can do to an adult body, but for kids as young as Riley it was something completely different. "Follow me." He mimicked a breathing technique he had learned early on to help him cope with this himself. He still did it after rough chases, or a close call. It helped ground him.

"Did we get the data?" she breathed out and her dad grinned. Grabbing his daughter's chin lightly and moving her head to annoy her. handing her the tablet with his other hand.

"I don't know, why don't you check?" Her dad smiles down at her softly, still keyed up for adrenaline and fighting off his own shakes.

Now that he knew Riley was okay, he got out of the car, leaving her to have fun analyzing, she didn't fully understand all the numbers yet and that was to be expected, she was 12. But she liked to watch them roll in, it meant they had accomplished something.

"Baby," her dad whispered as he opened the driver door up, motioning for Riley to come to him, holding a hand out. She scrambled over the center console and all it's switches and buttons. Her dad laughing at the excitement in her eyes. "There's something I think you'll want to see. Grab the camera."

When she had the camera in her hands and was on her feet in front of him, looking up at him like he hung the stars in the sky, he smiled softly down at his daughter. Brushing some of her hair down before placing his hand on the back of her shoulder and leading her out in the muddy field. Her boots squishing in it with every step. She followed where her dad was pointing and her breath was stolen from her lungs. The hail in the storm causing a bright blue glow among the shelf clouds feeding into the storm. It reminded her of a clear blue lake, perfect.

"Yeah, it is. You knew what you were talking about huh?" Her dad chuckled as Riley startled, not knowing she had said it out loud. Throwing his arm around his daughter's shoulders and pulling her into a brief side hug after she pulled her camera from her face. Both of them enjoying the moment, Riley's smile soft but content, her temple against his shoulder as she leaned into her dad. "If you feel it?" He whispered into her hair

"Chase it!" Riley chirped and giggled, Nathan following suit until they were both hunched over and gasping. Clinging onto another to keep upright. 

It was perfect. It was.

Until it wasn't.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 22 - Prompt: Lazy @jegulus-microfic

December Daily Series - 500 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

James stared at his mobile screen expectantly, watching the three little dots dance. It had been over an hour since he’d given in to a lazy flop onto his bed while Padfoot curled up at his feet. He’d held off texting Sirius until two minutes ago. Twice, Sirius had started to type and stopped. The third time, the dots flickered for ages.

When his phone dinged loudly with a notification, James jumped. It was Peter. He would be arriving late.

He swiped the notification and tossed the phone on the bed. All he’d asked was if they were coming back soon. He really wanted to join them, but he doubted Regulus would agree.

The opening beats of “Never Ever Getting Rid of Me” blared a moment later. James laughed at the change to his ringtone. Sirius set the most obnoxious, clingy songs for his contact because James never bothered to lock it.

“James! Hi!!” Sirius shouted. “We miss you!”

James didn’t realise it was a video call until he saw the dark screen suddenly blur. “Sirius? Why are you yelling?”

“He’s…al-always yelling.” That sounded like Regulus, but it was heavily slurred.

The screen flashed Sirius’s mischievous grin before it faced his brother. Regulus was curled up in the corner of a booth with one arm draped over his head, eyes closed, and forehead against his bicep. His other arm held his knees pulled up to his chest.

“Reggie’s no fun. You should come! You’re loads of fun. Right, Reggie?”

“Mmm.” The hum was noncommittal at best.

James grabbed his trainers. They were both clearly pissed and in no state to walk back unattended. He saw enough decor to identify The Red Lion.

“I’m on my way. Stay put,” he insisted. The order was for Sirius, who had a tendency to wander when pissed, but Padfoot huffed in agreement.

When he reached the pub, James found Sirius first. He was dancing with a pretty redhead who giggled as he twirled her around. James shoved his shoulder as he passed, then searched for Regulus.

He found him in exactly the same position. James slid into the booth and leaned in. “Regulus? Are you alright?”

“Potter?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Regulus slowly lifted his head, then squinted. “I see that.”

“Do you want to go back to the inn? I can walk you,” he offered.

“No.”

“Oh, alright.”

Regulus stared unblinking, then sighed. “Well, you’re here. Might as well make use of you.”

He unfolded from the corner to climb into his lap. Stunned, James steadied him while Regulus tucked his face into James’s neck. He smelled like gin.

“Are you sure-”

A ring-covered hand patted his face blindly.“Shhh…it’s fine. Just st-stop moving and be warm.”

Regulus’s breaths were hot against his skin, but his nose was cold. James hesitated, then cuddled him closer. As his breaths evened out, James rubbed Regulus’s back soothingly.

“Good boy,” Regulus whispered, nuzzling his neck.

James barely contained a cough as he choked on his own spit.

Next Part>>>

[nicholassturnilio]

𝖡𝖾𝖽 𝖢𝗁𝖾𝗆 ~

When you and Matt have chemistry in bed, Inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's song 'Bed Chem', smut

Initially, your relationship with Matt was established through mutual acquaintances and, although your interactions were limited to the occasional brief greeting, you both knew there was something special.

At first, you spoke for a few moments, and your conversation was relatively brief and short. But your friend encouraged you to introduce yourselves and that's when your biggest interactions were on mobile screens. You liked each other's photos on Instagram, and you scrolled the screen, tapping your feet while you looked at him in that photo, you even had a little fun seeing him in that white jacket, you may find that your fingers are more nimble than you remember.

He was there again, in her circle of his friends, who fortunately were also your friends, even from a distance you could feel the sexual tension and you were wondering if he felt the same way, you start to speculate as to whether he was similarly affected. It was a bit silly to think that you both would be a great match in bed, wasn't it?

Their eyes met in a mutual gaze, both reluctant to initiate a conversation. You felt a bit nervous when you saw him approaching. He was looking at you from head to toe, gradually overcoming the initial barriers of pride and reluctance.

Hey.. He says, his voice soft, your attention is immediately drawn to those wide blue eyes, making your legs weaken a little, he must have a big bad... whatever.. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself before turning fully towards you, his blue eyes locked onto your, There's a playful glint in his gaze, but beneath it, there's something more...

Well, look at you, all dressed up like some kind of goddess. He says, his voice low and husky and his eyes roam over your body, appreciating every curve and contour before settling back on your face.

Thanks, you're not so bad yourself. you replies, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. Yor voice comes out as a shy whisper, betraying your true feelings. You bites your lip nervously, wondering if this was really going to happen. Was he really going to make a move on you? Or was you just reading too much into it? Either way, you can't help but hope that he does.

Matt's eyes darken with desire as he sees you bite your lip. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between you both, until they're practically touching. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin.

I know I'm not bad, he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck, but you...you're something else entirely. He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his own burning with intensity.

I've wanted you since the moment I first saw you and I'm done holding back. he confesses, the hints of his Boston accent.. I love It.

Your breath hitches as his fingers trace along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. You looks up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This is really happening. Oh really? And what exactly did you have in mind? You asks, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Matt smirks, his hand moving from your cheek to wrap around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer until there's no space left between Well, I was thinking maybe we could find somewhere a little more private. he whispers against your lips and his other hand slides down to rest on your hip, squeezing gently as he presses himself against you. He can already tell by the way you leaning into him that you wants this just as much as he does.

But if you'd rather talk about it, he teases, we can do that too.

Maybe we could... You starts, trailing off as you loses yourself in his eyes. Find that private spot? Your voice is barely above a whisper, filled with desire and need. You places your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscles underneath his shirt, and pushes herself up onto your toes, pressing her body flush against his.

So now you're in his car. As soon as you both are inside, he pulls your close, his mouth finding yours in a heated kiss. He pours all of his pent-up desire into it, his tongue slipping past your lips to tangle with yours.

His hands roam over your body, exploring every inch of your curves as he kisses you deeply. He can feel you melting into him, your own hands tangling in his hair as you responds eagerly to his touch.

But as much as he wants to take this further right now, he knows they need to slow down. No breaking the kiss, panting softly as he rests his forehead against yours. Let me take you to my house.. please.

You nod, you breathing heavy and uneven as you struggles to catch your breath. The kiss had been intoxicating, leaving you dizzy with desire. You looks up at him, your eyes glazed with lust and a hint of uncertainty.

Your house? You asks, your voice barely a whisper. You bites your lip again, a nervous habit you seems unable to break even in such an intimate situation.

Despite the confusion swirling in your head, you doesn't resist when he leads you out of the car and towards his home. Instead, you follows obediently, your heart racing with anticipation and fear.

Once inside, Matt locks the door behind them and wastes no time in pulling you into his arms once more. His hands explore your body, tracing the outline of your curves as he backs your up against the nearest wall. His lips find yours again, kissing you passionately while one hand slips beneath your shirt to tease at the hem of your skirt. He groans into the kiss, feeling your nipples harden against his palm.

God, you're driving me crazy he growls against your lips before capturing your bottom lip between his teeth and biting gently.

With a swift movement, he lifts you up until you wrapped around his waist, your legs instinctively wrapping around him for support. He carries you upstairs to his bedroom, never breaking eye contact or slowing down their passionate embrace. Without a word, he pulls you into his arms once more, kissing your fiercely as his hands begin to explore your body again. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and slide beneath, caressing the smooth skin of your back.

You moan into the kiss, your own hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. You needs to feel his skin against your, to lose herself in the sensation of his touch. Breaking the kiss, Matt steps back just enough to pull his shirt off over his head, revealing his toned chest and abs. Matt watches you intently as you undoes the last button of his shirt, your fingers trembling slightly. He can see the desire in your eyes, the same desire that mirrors his own. He steps closer again, his hands finding the waistband of your jeans. With deft movements, he unbuttons them and slowly lowers the zipper, his fingers brushing against your skin.

As he peeks down, he can't help but admire how your breasts strain against the fabric of your top. He leans down and captures a nipple through the thin material, sucking it into his mouth. The taste of your sends another surge of arousal through him, making his cock twitch in anticipation. He wants you, he needs you– and he's not going to wait any longer.

Feeling Matt's hot mouth on your sensitive nipple sends jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core. You arches your back, pushing yourself further into his mouth, desperate for more. Your hands move to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you tries to stay standing. Your knees feel weak, like they might buckle at any moment. With a shaky breath, you manages to speak, Please... don't stop.

Matt chuckles low in his throat at your plea, the sound vibrating against your breast. He releases your nipple with a wet pop, looking up at you with a wicked grin. Don't worry baby, I'm nowhere near done with you yet, he promises, his voice rough with desire.

In one swift motion, he grabs the hem of your shirt and tugs it up and over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of your bare breasts, full and perfect. Unable to resist, he cups them in his large hands, kneading the soft flesh as he thumbs your nipples. They harden instantly under his touch, begging for more attention. Leaning down, he captures one in his mouth again, sucking hard as he rolls the other between his fingers.

Matt continues his sensual assault on yours breasts, alternating between licking, sucking, and gently biting your nipples until they're stiff peaks. One hand slides down your stomach, popping the button of your jeans and lowering the zipper. He slips his hand inside, cupping your mound through the damp fabric of your panties. You're already so wet for me, he murmurs approvingly, rubbing your clit in slow circles. I bet you taste divine.

Pulling back, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of both yours jeans and underwear and tugs them down your legs, helping your step out of them. Now fully naked, he takes a moment to admire your beauty, from your full breasts to your curvy hips and long, toned legs. You gasps as Matt teases your pussy through your aoaked panties, the pressure building quickly. You squirms, trying to get closer to his touch, your body aching for more.

Is this okay? You nod, your breath hitching in your throat as you tries to form words. But all that comes out is a whimper of need. Satisfied with your response, Matt hooks his fingers into the sides of yours panties and drags them down yours legs, dropping them to the floor. He steps back to admire you completely nude form, his gaze roaming hungrily over every inch of your exposed skin. So fucking beautiful, he growls appreciatively, his eyes locking onto you dripping slit. I need to taste you now.

Kneeling before you, Matt spreads your thighs wide apart, exposing your glistening folds to his eager gaze. Without hesitation, he leans in and licks a long, slow stripe up your center, savoring your sweet flavor. Matt groans around your clit, loving the way you responds to his touch. He doubles his efforts, flicking his tongue rapidly against your swollen nub while inserting two fingers deep within your slick channel. He curls them upward, hitting that spot inside your that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. His thumb replaces his tongue on your clit, pressing down firmly as he laps at your juices.

Mmm... He hums against your pussy, sending vibrations rippling through your entire body. Yours legs tremble uncontrollably, threatening to give out beneath you. You clings tighter to Matt's shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. I'm gonna... You warns breathlessly, feeling an overwhelming urge to cum. But before you can finish speaking, a powerful orgasm rips through your body like lightning strikes across the sky. Your inner walls clench rhythmically around Matt’s fingers as wave after wave of intense pleasure pulses through your veins.

Matt moans deeply as your pussy spasms around his fingers, your release flooding his mouth with your sweet essence. He drinks it down greedily, continuing to lap at you as you rides out the waves of ecstasy. That's it baby, let go for me, he encourages huskily, working you through your climax with skilled strokes of his tongue and fingers. Cum all over my face like a good girl.

Once your shaking subsides somewhat, he slowly withdraws his digits and stands, bringing them to his lips to suck clean. Yours pants heavily, still trembling slightly from the intensity of your orgasm. You watches Matt lick his fingers clean, a look of pure lust burning in your eyes. Without thinking about it too much, you reaches down and wraps your hand around his thick erection, stroking him firmly through his boxers, is big...

Matt lets out a guttural growl at your touch, his eyes rolling back momentarily in bliss. He grabs your wrist gently but firmly, guiding your hand to pump him faster. That's it... just like that, he groans appreciatively. You know exactly how to handle me. His free hand moves to your ass, giving each cheek a firm squeeze before slipping between them to tease your tight hole with his index finger.

Do you want me inside you? he asks huskily, knowing full well what her answer will be. You nods vigorously, biting your lip as Matt's finger presses against your tight opening. Yes, please... You begs shamelessly, no longer able to hold back your desires. Your hand continues to stroke him feverishly, feeling his length throb and swell even larger under your ministrations. You can't wait to feel him stretching your open and filling your completely.

With a low grunt, Matt tears off his boxers, freeing his massive erection. It springs up, hard and ready, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Hold onto the bed, he commands gruffly, he picks you up and puts you down turning you around to face away from him. Grabbing your hips, he lines himself up with your entrance and thrusts forward in one swift motion, burying himself balls-deep inside your with a satisfying snap of his hips.

Fuuuck, you curses loudly, Matt's eyes widening at the incredible sensation of being wrapped in your tight heat. So goddamn tight... you were made for my cock. You screams loudly as Matt buries himself deep within you, the stretch and burn making your head spin. You braces yourself against the bed, gripping the sheets tightly. Fuck Matt.. You chants breathlessly, pushing back against him instinctively. Your walls clench around his throbbing member, massaging it deliciously as he begins to move.

Feeling your walls gripping him so perfectly drives Matt wild with desire. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you with enough force to make the bed creak ominously. So good for me, take It he snarls possessively, setting a punishing pace that has yours bodies slapping together wetly. All yours... Each thrust hits deeper than the last, stretching your further until you feels like you might burst apart from sheer pleasure.

Matt leans over your back, wrapping an arm around your chest to pull your upright against him. This new position allows him to drill even deeper into you, hitting spots that make stars burst behind your closed eyelids. Fuck yeah... take every inch, he grunts roughly, punctuating each word with another powerful thrust. His other hand snakes down, fingers finding your clit once again. He rubs it mercilessly, determined to send your spiraling into another mind-shattering orgasm.

You cries out loudly, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of Matt's relentless pounding and the expert stimulation of your sensitive clit. You can barely form coherent thoughts anymore, let alone words. Oh god! Yes! I'm close... so close! You manages to gasp out between ragged breaths. Cum right on me!

Hearing you desperate plea sends a surge of satisfaction through Matt. His grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, driving himself even harder into your welcoming depths. Matt's grip on your hip tightens as he senses you approaching climax. He pistons into your harder and faster, chasing his own release while driving her towards yours, That's it baby, cum for me, he growls in your ear, nipping at the lobe. You're so good, so perfect.. The way he talks so sweet when he's doing bad things..

Just as you starts to convulse around him, Matt buries himself to the hilt one final time and explodes, painting your insides with his hot seed. Fuckkk... he roars, his entire body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. He tips you over the edge. You convulses around him as you climaxes violently, yours juices coating his shaft slickly while your walls milk him for all they're worth. You got there together, both arriving at the same time.

As their orgasms subside, Matt slowly eases out of your spent body, his softening cock slipping free with a wet pop. He collapses onto the bed beside you, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath. That was... fuck, that was incredible, he murmurs, reaching over to pull your limp form against his side. You're amazing, you know that? He strokes her hair affectionately, already missing the warmth of her skin pressed against his. We should do this again sometime soon...

You lays there, utterly exhausted but content. A blissful smile curves your lips as you turns to look at Matt, hes blue eyes sparkling with satisfaction. Are you free next week? I say playfully, trying to catch my breath, we really are a good match in bed

[chestnuts-secret-lair]

A little death - The neighborhood (Fic)

Donatello/Reader Pairing. Song based. No I did not check it for spelling errors 🥰

"Vacancy was lit, the guests were checking in" 🎶

He texted you around an hour ago, and eventually you saw the hotel he sent you appear in the distance of the fog. Why here? Why in this dingy middle of nowhere place would he call you up and ask you to meet him? After months of being.. nothing, of being gone.You parked the car in the lot, watching as few guests walked into the hotel lobby doors, coats and cloaks and few wearing hoods or wraps around their head, as if they wanted to hide themselves, as if the cold wasn't the only thing they were trying to keep out.

Walking in was just as cold as it was outside, it felt dull and damp the moment your boots made it through the sliding doors. There was a statue in the middle of the lobby, bare with cracks in the stone. An angel, with wings, one tip of her wings cracked off and Webbed by spiders making their nests, her nimble fingers reaching towards the sky as her other hand held up a towel to cover her body, and a cloth placed over her eyes.

"The concierge was cold. The water pipes had mold all over them" 🎶

Walking past the statue, you make it to the front desk with a small line, feeling eyes cascade your frame while you stand. The place had an eerie feel to it, like it was meant to be abandoned, or maybe everybody here was a ghost. You could pick up the faint scent of damp carpet and the crisp smell of icy air, the worst of it was the smell of mold growing fresh on water pipes that are long past their repair. Looking around the lobby, you could even see cracks in walls where the pipes were visible, and the smallest little shiver tingle down your spine. Why did he ask you to meet him here, out of all the places.. why here?

"The room was fit for two. The bed was left in ruins" 🎶

You make your way to the front of the line, brushing past the velvet rope that's peeling off. Old. It looks grim and old. There's a woman sitting on a bench nearby with her head in her hands, there's a couple in red stepping up the spiral staircase with heels clicking on each step, and there's a man behind the glass with a lazy eye, watching you as you offer the ticket on your mobile that Donnie had sent you. He grunts in response, and hands you a key. The key is cold in your grasp, jingling as you take it and tuck it in your jacket pocket.

“Is it always this dark?”

You ask the man, wondering if it's just a slow night that it looks so cave-like in this hotel, but he gives you less of a response and more of an annoyed stare. Long night most likely, you think to yourself as you nod and walk away with a key. You follow up the spiral stairs you had seen the couple go up, imagining the clicking of two red heels and sounds of the whispering around you, making it up to see two large elevator doors. They're metal, but the metal looks like it's rusting.. and 2 buttons on the call panel are missing.

The top floor had been the place he chose to room, which was funny because on the room listings on the headboard, there was only one room bought out on the top floor. You click the button and wait for a ding, walking into the elevator that creaks under your weight the moment you step in, making your heart sink a bit from the worry that it might collapse by the time you're halfway up.. Once the elevator gets going, you can almost picture what Donnie might want from you. He's been gone for a while, left without a text or a call, hells- even a letter would have been nice. The more you watch the number of floors get higher on the bright glowing screen, the more you feel a tingle in your stomach or a cold shiver in your spine. Through the faint smell of wet air and mold, you can pick up the scent of Donnie himself, remembering how long ago it was since you last smelled the cologne sticking to his clothes, with your face pressed up against his shirt, wondering when you'll be able to smell it again.

The loud ding of the elevator snaps you out of your mind in an instant, brushing your fingers through your hair as you step out and try to take a breath, and you would if it weren't for the fact you nearly just stepped on a rat on your way out. Slowly you walk down the hall, a window at the end of the hall showing a small white glow of the sign outside, reading off the name of the hotel with few letters missing, probably fallen off.. the hallway is dark, your footsteps are the only thing you can hear, and the quiet buzz of a flickering light on the ceiling. Everything in this hotel screams at you to turn around, to tell Donnie that if he really wanted to see you then he would come to you instead of.. whatever this stupid place is. You felt like you'd die here, and after everything- you're still mad at him, obviously, but he could have at least told you *anything* about where he was going. You stand at the front of the door that the key you were given opens, the numbers on the door are faded, like they were drawn in some kind of chalk by a child.

"The neighbor was knocking, yeah.." 🎶

When you stop to hold your breath, you can almost hear the soft breaths inside the door. Donnie. It's him, really, inside of this door. The only thing keeping him from you are these old walls with the wallpaper peeling off and this door that you honestly could kick inwards if you didn't have a key. You take the key out of your pocket, the keychain had fallen off, leaving it in its gold linings by itself. You hesitate when you lift your hand to the door where the keyhole is, wondering about every situation that could possibly happen the second you open this door. You roll your tongue in your mouth like a toy, trying to think, to think of anything other than the fact that you want to scream. You want to yell, scream, cry, all at him, because where the fuck has he been for the last few months? And why didn't he tell you?

..With a sharp inhale, you hold your breath, one hand clutching the strap of your bag that's hung on your shoulder, your hand reaching forward and inserting the key into the little keyhole. Two turns is what it took to get the door to open, god damn this place and it's crumbling textures, it would call for a city inspection if it wasnt so far out from the actual city. Slowly the door creaks open, your hand pushing it forward as you walk in and let it shut behind you. A cold brush of wind is blowing against your face from the AC, your boots softly thumping on the floor as you walk forward, and forward, and see him.

"..But no one would let him in.." 🎶

(This is 1) // Next (coming soon)

[borrowedtimeandspace]

A Hard Day's Night

Alien

From this list of g/t prompts

Part 1 of 2. [Part 2]

AU: The Donna Trilogy side story; set during the interlude, 'If I Could Turn Back Time'

Note: Look, I only had Dan Lewis for a day and a half and he is best boy. I just wanted to keep him in my pocket forever! But that's not what we're doing today.

Obviously I'm playing this year's g/t July way more loosey-goosey. This prompt got long enough that I could split it into two parts, and I'm debating whether to post it to IICTBT once both parts are out since it doesn't quite fit there. Idk, let me know what you think. PLUS I have another idea for the Alien prompt that I'm very excited about.

Also I'm on the Epic the Musical hype train and I had to really stop myself from titling this 'Pride is a Damsel in Distress'... I'm fine

~~~

“Thanks again for the hand, Dan,” said Wilma as she set the last pallet of donated goods on top of the stack. “As always.”

Dan Lewis gave a small shrug and a smile. “Y'know me, happy to help.”

Wilma only just began removing cans of soup from the stack when her mobile's ringtone blared. With a grumble she shifted everything into one arm to fish the phone from her pocket. Her face immediately fell.

“Of all times…” she sighed, then sent an apologetic look Dan's way. “Mind if I…?”

“Take it,” Dan waved her off and took the cans from her. If it was who he thought it was on the other end of that call, he reckoned it might take her a while. “I'll get this sorted, no worries. Take your time.”

Letting him unburden her, Wilma hurried to step outside. “Glad to have you back,” she called over her shoulder as she lifted the phone to her ear and turned the corner.

Dan stood there for the briefest moment of reflection. It hadn't been long at all since, as far as most were concerned, he'd returned from his stint traveling. He couldn't exactly tell anyone where he'd been traveling, of course. Even after all the madness of the Flux, there weren't many people on Earth who would remotely understand life with the Doctor.

Now it was just a matter of adjusting to living life day to day back in the 21st century. Falling back into old habits like volunteering at the food bank gave Dan a sense of normalcy that didn't feel mind-numbingly mundane. He was still helping people, making a difference in their lives. So long as he could see them smile and know they wouldn't go to bed hungry, that was enough.

While he went about stocking the shelves, something skittered by in the corner of his eye. 

Whatever he'd caught a glimpse of was small but fast, and probably would have gone overlooked by anyone else. Living a dangerous lifestyle throughout time and space even for a short time had heightened Dan's senses for these things, but as he glanced around the storeroom, he couldn't spot any further signs of movement.

Dan decided to leave it for now. It didn't exactly feel like a threatening presence just yet, and he could keep an eye on his back just in case.

He'd just started stocking donated pasta on a higher shelf when a clatter behind him made him jump. He whirled around to find a few cans of soup rolling across the floor after what seemed to be a spontaneous spill from a low shelf. 

What got Dan's feet moving faster than usual was the other sound he could swear he heard in time with the crash– a faint but pained voice.

Dan hurried to kneel next to the mess, shaking his head when he noticed some volunteer before him thought it would be a bright idea to stack the cans on their side in a pyramid one shelf up from the floor. No wonder they'd gone rolling.

He was about to start reorienting them, but paused at the sight of something tucked slightly under one of the cans that remained on the shelf, near the base of the former pyramid. It seemed at first to be a tiny bundle of dark cloth, until Dan looked closer and saw part of it moving ever so slightly up and down. Like it was breathing, quite quickly.

Before he thought better of it, Dan reached out a hand to brush back some of the fabric.

The little bundle flinched, and Dan jerked his hand back with a choked, startled sound. Some of the cloth fell away as the thing twisted to face him, revealing it wasn't an it after all. Seemed to be a he.

Dan and this tiny figure stared at one another with wide eyes for a moment, the latter with what seemed to the former like little pinpricks of cobalt blue. Now that he had the context of what he was looking at, the wee fellow looked human-like, only he was small enough to fit in Dan's hand.

The bloke had a darker complexion than Dan's fair one, and short copper-red hair that he'd kept hidden under a hood before. His chin had a bit of scruff in a similar color, though Dan noticed a patch or two that were turning white. Among all the questions flooding Dan's head, he briefly wondered if he and this little person were of similar age.

That all went away as he took in the rest of the teeny figure, and found that one of his legs was jammed under the can.

Dan’s hand moved in again the second he saw that, pausing only when he saw the little fella recoil and raise an arm in defense. He tried not to let his heart sink to realize just how frightening he was.

“S’okay,” Dan whispered in a way he hoped was reassuring. “Not gonna hurt ya. Let's just get you outta there.”

The tiny man frowned but didn't seem swayed. Dan went ahead anyway, moving slowly so as not to startle him again. With one hand he held the other cans in place to keep them from rolling about again, and with the other he lifted the one pinning the poor man's leg.

With the weight lifted, the man wasted no time rolling away and jumping to his feet, but he gave another pained grunt and stumbled away to lean on an upright-standing can. Dan put down the one in his hand and made sure it kept the rest in place before he removed his hands just as slowly.

“Alright?” Dan asked, watching with concern as the man slid himself down to sit. He got a sharp side-eye in reply before the man focused on examining his leg. Biting back a wince to watch him tenderly prod at his ankle and shin, he added, “I could fetch a first aid kit if you're hurt–”

“I'm fine!”

The little man seemed almost as surprised by his sharp response as Dan was, and they ended up in another short staredown. When Dan seemed to back down without further argument, the man huffed and mumbled, “I will be fine…”

Dan was quickly distracted from the observation that the little fella didn't sound Scouse and the curious thought of how far he'd come to get to Liverpool, when the man drew up his trouser leg for a proper look at the state of his ankle. Bruises dark enough for even Dan to plainly see mottled the lower half of his leg, and the deeper parts were a little swollen. 

Then he blinked when he thought he saw the bruises were getting smaller. Sure enough, he watched the edges slowly turn purplish, then yellow, and then return to light brown much more quickly than Dan had ever seen a bruise heal.

“Are you one of them aliens, like?” Dan blurted before he could think twice about it.

He found himself once again locked in a wide cobalt-blue stare as the little head whipped around. Dan couldn't tell if he was defensive or simply surprised by the question.

“I…what?”

Dan gave a shrug. “Wouldn't be the first I met. Couple a’ my mates were aliens! And if ya want, I could put you in touch with someone who's worked with em a lot, if you're stuck here and need any help gettin’ home–”

“I'm not a bloody alien, man!” he snapped, shutting Dan right up. “And I don't need your help!”

“Alright, mate, easy now,” said Dan, putting up his hands in surrender. “Only a suggestion…”

He saw the man tense up to see his hands, so Dan put them down. Miniscule shoulders released the slightest bit of tension as he went back to tending to his ankle.

Dan noticed the swelling hadn't gone down much near the joint, nor had the bruises lightened yet. “How long does, er, that usually take?” he asked tentatively.

This time he was ignored. The man sharply shoved his trouser leg back down to cover his ankle, and he set about carefully laying it out in front of himself.

[malboraslihan]

serendipity. the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

mobile vers.

trigger warnings and disclaimer: the verse will mostly surround the death of a close friend as well as many triggering themes such as depression, illness and such. please beware of that before applying/reading the plot.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 

           july 2016 marks the graduation of claudia madeira and her friends. the group of teenagers was known around the small town of harbor springs for their constant loud celebrations, rebellious ideas and even more, for having dreams that became too big for the city limits. it was a known fact, by their parents and anyone who could hear them daydreaming at the coffee shop, that they would leave town eventually. or at the very least, they would try to. so when the time came, the night after graduation, they followed their own paths and promised to never forget the memories they created in that small magical town from connecticut. 

            seven years later, things haven’t been good, for anyone. those who left, somehow ended up sucked back into town; by a relative who became ill, after losing their perfect job one day, after a break up completely broke them down.. the reasons are endless. and, of course, there are always those who never managed to escape, whose dreams were tucked into under their bed and plans stayed as just that, plans. 

            mrs. dolevan said it best, the town shifted the day the last one of them stepped foot into town. something was in the air, things weren’t working as well as they once did anymore. the town had grown old, there was no big group of teenagers running around and celebrating the life they were about to have. most kids had ended up finishing high school in the neighboring town, which made their parents move down there eventually. harbor springs was now a ghost town. with only the memories and echoes, family they left behind and childhood rooms that still held pictures of people they haven’t seen in years. 

            and claudia, of course. holding the promise she made to never leave harbor springs, and hiding the truth of her autoimmune disease from her best friends as they toasted to the last night together. she held the fort and kept their memory alive. and then, she saw each and every single one of them crawl back into town. 

              the doctors said it was bound to happen any day, the gossipers said she couldn’t handle another day of living with the fact they had all failed.

summary: a skeleton discord group verse based on the life of teenagers that were born in a very small town called harbor springs and grew up close experiencing traumatic things together but promised to get out of town (or at least try) once they graduated high school. seven years later, they’re all back to town for different reasons and one week after the last one of them arrives, claudia madeira, class president and their valedictorian, passes away from unknown reasons, causing them all to sit in a room together for her funeral. check out the pinterest board.

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

1. your usual rp etiquette: no god modding, try to interact and plot with everyone. please, no ooc drama and if there’s any issues contact me or leesh privately so we can handle it directly.

2. muns and fcs must be over 21, the age range for muses is 25-27. no problematic fcs, the usual banned: no dead fcs, minors, people who have stated before they don’t want to be used in rps, all that jazz. i also reserve the right to deny any fc that makes me or anyone else uncomfortable.

3. please don’t join if you’re not planning on being active. i understand school, college, work and all that can get in the way and that this is only a hobby but in order for a group to work people must be present at least once or twice in the day or a few hours a week.

4. this won’t be first come first serve, each mun can apply for ONE MUSE. i know there’s no way i can know for sure so this is basically based on trust and a suggestion but i’d love if we could bring new/undeveloped muses to the verse. the plot is heavy on development and in character building to i feel muses that haven’t been completely fleshed yet would benefit more from this setting. 

𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐒

the allegiant.  the black sheep. considered the disgrace of a family or group. the insurgent. rebels, stirs up conflict, goes against the norms. the facade. someone who hides behind a mask. the connard. the fallen angel. someone who fell from a high point in their life. the lothario. / the vixen. the luminary. the leader the icarian. spontaneous and adventurous; a free spirit. the pristine. pure, innocent, unspoiled, uncorrupted.

(you can find inspo posts for each label on the pinterest board.)

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

if they left town: ( faceclaim, age, gender, pronouns ) can you honestly believe FIRST LAST NAME is back in town? they’re probably around AGE IN LETTERS now and i think they became a OCCUPATION. god, it was only a few years ago they were screaming about how they would PLANS ONCE THEY LEFT TOWN, right? i don’t know what changed but i heard some rumors that REASON THEY CAME BACK. either way, we should all be glad we got our local LABEL back on our streets, who knows what they’ll do next. ( alias, url, tmz, age )

if they stayed in town: ( faceclaim, age, gender, pronouns ) can you honestly believe FIRST LAST NAME never left town? they’re probably around AGE IN LETTERS now and i think they became a OCCUPATION. god, it was only a few years ago they were screaming about how they would PLANS ONCE THEY LEFT TOWN, right? i don’t know what changed but i heard some rumors that REASON WHY THEY DIDN’T LEAVE. either way, we should all be glad we got our local LABEL on our streets, who knows what they’ll do next. ( alias, url, tmz, age )

the app can be sent through my submit and while it’s not mandatory, i’d love if you could attach a pinterest board or a small paragraph about your muse or how they relate to their label. nothing fancy, no need to write a full on bio, just a bit more info if possible! 

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍

the allegiant: omar apollo (barbie) the black sheep: steph mandich (adri) the insurgent: nico haraga (amanda) the facade: rish shah (jana) the connard: sophie thatcher (ron) the fallen angel: teresa seco (lina) the vixen: jamilla strand (leesh) the luminary: drew starkey (bee) the icarian: ange jose (marie) the pristine: sabrina carpenter (ivy) 

+ camila morrone (kate) and michael cimino (dj)

[aggressivelyaverage21]

Hear, my son, your father's instruction, and forsake not your mother's teaching,

Beatrice gets some much-needed rest. Shannon's having a hard time with the events of the day. Mary steps up and gets her cuddle on. It's soft, okay? I don't really know what else to say about it-- Enjoy.

Shannon wasn’t all that surprised when she didn’t see Beatrice at dinner. Lilith wasn’t either really. Concerned, yes. Surprised, no. Beatrice was private, at best— self-isolating, at worst. Shannon hadn’t thought to go get her for dinner, and maybe she should have, but as she opened the young sister’s door with Mary not far behind her all those worries were put aside rather quickly. 

Beatrice was flat on her back, blankets tucked up tight around her though her hand was poking from the side to rest on the mattress right next to a thawed ice pack. Her face was relaxed like Shannon hadn’t seen on the girl who somehow seemed to have a pinched brow even in her sleep. 

“Do we wake her?” Mary whispered against the shell of Shannon’s ear, stepping closer so they are both just inside the frame of Beatrice’s door. Though initially the closeness was a bit unintentional, she hadn’t expected Shannon to pause. Apparently the surprise of finding Beatrice deep in rest shocked Shannon to stillness, but now Mary could use the closeness to her advantage– wrapping a loose arm around Shannon’s hips to catch her balance. 

“I don’t know.” Shannon shook her head leaning back slightly against Mary. They weren’t alone, but Beatrice was asleep and no one else was here. Besides, Shannon didn’t really care if Beatrice saw their closeness. She wasn’t ashamed about it. The way it soothed her worry was almost as much as seeing Beatrice not in the throes of a nightmare or anxious over a variety of happenings at the OCS. “She looks so young like this.” 

“She is young.” Mary rocks them sideways just a bit as she nuzzles her cheek against the side of Shanon’s neck, her chin resting on her shoulder even though it required her to bounce up on her tip-toes to do it. “Let’s let her rest, Shan. She could probably use it.” 

Just as the decision was made, Beatrice stirred. She looked around almost wildly as her vision came more into focus from sleep. Two figures near her door stepped apart as her focus fell on them. Beatrice’s jaw stretched wide in a long exhale as she sat up, recognizing Shannon and Mary. “Shannon?” Beatrice questioned to make sure she wasn’t seeing anything as she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes. “Mary?”

“Hey” Shannon kept her voice soft, just hardly above a whisper, as she stepped further into Beatrice’s room. “We just brought you some food. You can go back to sleep.” It was then that Beatrice’s eyes darted to clock on her bedside table. If it wasn’t a little sad it would have been funny how wide her eyes flashed when she saw what time it was. 

Not only had Mother Superion seen it fit to tear her down for hours, not only had her reaction to that required Lilith to step in but Mary and Shannon as well. Now she’d missed a meal. Which meant she’d missed evening prayer and their teams usual late afternoon training session that was usually reserved for some form of mobility. 

Beatrice was nearly tripping over herself as she moved to toss the covers back over her legs and launch from the bed, like there was anything else to do, like rushing now would make up for any of the things she’d already missed. 

It wouldn’t. 

Not that any sort of logic was prevailing in Beatrice’s still half-asleep brain. 

“Relax,” Shannon prompted, stepping closer to Beatrice’s bed. “You’re not in trouble. You get the day after an evaluation like that. You’re not in trouble, Beatrice.” Shannon took the time to reiterate when Beatrice didn’t, in fact, relax after her first attempt at reassurance. If it weren’t sometimes so sad, Shannon would find more amusement in the irony of her chosen nickname for the girl– though if you ask her or Mary, it’s part of why the nickname fit so well. 

“Evaluation?” Beatrice asked as she let out a cautious breath settling a little against her headboard at Shannon’s request. 

What evaluation? She had passed the trials hadn’t she? She was going on missions with Shannon’s team. Shannon had promised the last one was her last probationary assignment– she would be getting her battle habit soon, and her first real, full assignment hopefully not long after that. What on earth could she have been being evaluated for? 

Your place in the order.

It splashed over Beatrice like a bucket of ice water down her spine. But they had all told her she had a place in the order… was that not—

KEEP READING

[milfmorrowind]

I'm the One Who Burned Us Down (Meet Me in the Afterglow)

@tes-summer-fest August 19th: free day!

ao3 link

Even days after the battle, the air was still thick with smoke. Countless fires had sprung up around the Imperial City, either as the result of a daedra's magic or from something as mundane as a dropped torch, and much of the guards' energy was being spent dousing the flames. And the fires were just the beginning. Hundreds of civilians had been injured or killed, entire towns had been laid to waste, and the counts and countesses had lost many a good soldier when the armies of Mehrunes Dagon stormed Cyrodiil in their full force. And then there was the small problem of living in an empire with no emperor.

All that, and Sille somehow managed to keep herself together as she hurriedly picked her way through the rubble. She was a priestess, a healer, and her talents were needed. The injured could not heal themselves, after all. For the first time since she had arrived in the heart of the empire over a year ago, she wore the light blue overdress and woven belt that signified her devotion to the temple of Kyne. The amulet she'd been presented with as a young girl, which had been carefully tucked underneath her armor to avoid damage for so many months, was now worn proudly on the outside of her clothing. It was an impractical outfit given the circumstances, and she knew it, but Sille had found that it helped stabilize her, if only a little. At this point she was far more concerned with mobility and comfort than she was with getting shot full of arrows, and her dress served her better in that regard than her armor.

And she would need that mobility today, she could already tell. She had been roused by a very harried though apologetic courier around four (strange, wasn't it, knowing the exact time?) who said that she was urgently needed. The Elder Council had "graciously allowed" tents to be constructed in the center of the city where both the citizens whose homes had been damaged by the battle and the injured could be housed and cared for. As the dark sky on the horizon began to show the smallest tint of blue, Sille could only assume it was the latter which required her immediate attention.

"Sille!" called a voice from one of the healing tents. It was Baurus, holding a lantern as he pushed open the flap of a tent. "Thank Talos you're here. Come with me, you'll want to see this."

Sille followed him into the tent, rolling up her sleeves. She was immediately hit by a wave of moans and fetid air, and it took everything in her not to gag. She'd butchered enough game to have shed her reservations about corpses long ago, but looking at the rows of beds where her fellow men lay dying was an entirely different beast. She was a proficient healer, to be certain, but she was not accustomed to seeing so much injury and death at once. She averted her eyes and tried to ignore her rising shame as she followed Baurus deeper into the tent. They reached a sheet stretched across the walkway as a sort of divider, and Baurus pulled it aside to allow the pair of them to slip through.

Behind the makeshift curtain lay a different scene. There were far fewer beds here, and they were largely empty. Sille's first reaction was anger- how could anyone allow so many  beds to remain empty when people were being treated on the streets?- but it melted away when Baurus beckoned her towards one of the few occupied beds.

The bed was surrounded by five or six mages, bent over and engaged in intense conversation. Sille recognized Julienne Fanis from the Mages' guild, who smiled when she saw her approach.

"Sille! What brings you here?" she asked. Despite her cheerful tone, the circles under her eyes led Sille to suspect she hadn't slept much lately.

"Truthfully, I'm not certain," Sille replied, and glanced at Baurus. The Blade cleared his throat.

"Apologies," he said sheepishly. "In my haste to get you here, I may have forgotten to tell the messenger the reason for summoning you. Since yesterday morning we've had a number of civilians come to us with... unusual symptoms. I was hoping you might be able to help us determine the cause."

"I'll see what I can do," Sille said. "What symptoms are they exhibiting?"

"See for yourself," Baurus said grimly, and gestured towards the bed.

Sille held her breath as she approached the cot. The Breton lying on it was barely conscious, moving only occasionally and always with a moan of pain. By his head stood Julienne, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a damp cloth. Unfortunately, his apparent fever was not the extent of his illness. His arms, neck, and torso were dotted with angry crimson boils, each surrounded by a ring of inflammation. The largest of the boils seemed to weeping a clear fluid.

Sille knelt. "Did he say when this began?"

"The night before last," someone said from the end of the cot. Sille looked up and recognised her as Marz, the healer from the chapel in Bravil. "He's our most recent arrival, but all the others seem to have started experiencing their symptoms around the same time."

"Are they all from the Imperial City?"

"Yes, though I wouldn't think much of it. They all live in different districts. The only pattern we've been able to determine is that each one of them came into close contact with a daedroth the day before the boils appeared... but that could be said for hundreds within the city."

Sille furrowed her brow. Boils were not an uncommon condition, and were typically easy to treat, unless they were caused by an underlying condition. The man's fever would suggest that that was the case. Without any way of knowing what disease may have caused the condition, they would have to guess at treatments.

"What have you tried so far?" Sille asked.

"Every poultice, tincture, and serum I know," Julienne sighed. "Or most of them, anyway. I can numb the pain, or reduce the inflammation, but I just can't seem to heal the boils. Even draining them doesn't work– they come back with a vengeance."

"We were hoping you may have seen something similar on your travels, Sille," Baurus added from behind.

She repressed a sigh. Baurus was a good man and friend, but he still didn't seem to understand what she actually did . In his head, it seemed, she was a wandering healer, rugged adventurer, and sage rolled into one. Maybe there was a kernel of truth to that, but at her heart she was a priestess, and one of Kyne, at that. Her practices were hardly even recognized in Cyrodiil-- which probably contributed to the confusion. Her knowledge of herbalism wasn't due to extensive training as a healer, it was an act of devotion. She sought to understand Kyne's gifts to the world, and to share them with others.

Regardless, Sille owed it to the sick to do her best. She leaned forward and touched gently around one of the boils on the man's arm. The skin was hot to the touch, as if a fire burned beneath. With a furrowed brow, she felt around the pustule. The heat grew more intense closer to the wound itself, as would be expected, but it did not completely fade further away. All of the man's skin was warm. Sille bit her lip. She was certain she had never learned about this particular condition, and yet it felt familiar.

"Baurus," she said suddenly. "Has there been word from Kvatch?"

"Not much. They are still rebuilding, but it's slow going. It seems they were spared a repeat invasion, at least. Why do you ask?"

Sille stood. "I have seen this before, but only once. After the gate there was closed, I spoke to some of the survivors. One of them had boils just like these, though not so far progressed. It must be a daedric infection of some kind." She dusted her hands off on her dress and turned to Baurus. "There was a healer there. Oleta. She was caring for the wounded and may know of a cure."

He nodded. "I'll have her sent for at once."

A horn blared outside. Sille's blood ran cold. Without a second thought, she gathered up her skirts and ran for the entrance of the tent. It wasn't until she found herself reaching to her back that she remembered she hadn't brought her bow with her. Cursing under her breath, she drew her dagger and brought a frost spell to her fingertips.

She burst through tent flaps, Baurus at her heels, and stopped dead in her tracks. Instead of the horde of daedra she'd been expecting, she was face to face with a host of armored legionnaires. She blinked, not quite understanding what she was seeing.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Baurus muttered under his breath.

Of course. Chancellor Ocato had told her that the Legion was being recalled-- this must have been one of the first garrisons to return. They were all over the square, setting up tents, building fires, talking to city guards and civilians. Nearby, a terrified looking soldier clutching a horn was being berated by a superior who looked to be thrice his age.

The older soldier– probably a general, if looks were anything to go by– turned around and started, seemingly noticing Sille, Baurus, and the large healing tent behind them for the first time. He strode over to them with obvious purpose.

"Ah," he said. "And who might you be?"

"Baurus, sir. Of the Blades." Baurus gestured beside him. "And this is Sille, Priestess of Kyne and a friend to the Blades."

"I see. And you are in charge of this... operation here?" the general said with a vague gesture towards the tent.

"Indirectly, sir. We've constructed a number of temporary shelters throughout the city. This is one of our healing tents. For details, you'll want to speak to the Grandmaster, Jauffre. You'll likely find him in the council chambers."

"Well, it seems you've done a good enough job on your own. The name's Vitellius, by the way." General Vitellius looked around him. "That being said, you could probably use some help, eh? You two!" he barked at a pair of nearby soldiers. "Over here!"

The pair, a Nord woman and Dunmer man, trudged over. Vitellius clapped the Dunmer on the soldier.

"You've got two of my finest soldiers right here– and captains, no less." He turned to the soldiers. "This fine man and woman have been running this healing tent here. Until further notice, you'll be assisting them. Find out what they need, what supplies are running low, and see that they get it. If anyone gives you trouble, you bring it straight to me, you hear? Now, I'll need you to get a sense of just how many injuries..."

Sille barely heard Vitellius. She was too busy staring at the woman he had called over. She was a bit taller than her, her hair and eyes lighter. And she was staring right back at her with an unmistakably scarred eye.

"Signy?" Sille finally managed to whisper.

The general paused his ramblings. "You know this woman, soldier?"

"Yes, sir," the woman said slowly. "She's my sister."

The general cracked a wide smile. "Isn't that lovely?" he said jovially. "A nice little family reunion. Tidras, you go with our Blade friend here. I'll leave you two alone to catch up."

With that, the small group around them dispersed and the two women were left alone. Sille rubbed her fingers together. Signy's hands were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"How are you?" Sille finally said awkwardly.

"Fine." Signy looked at her accusingly. "What are you doing in Cyrodiil?"

"It's a long story." Sille glanced over her shoulder. "I should probably get back to the tents. Many are wounded, and–"

"No," Signy interrupted. "I want to know."

Sille sighed. She had learned long ago that there was no use arguing with her sister when she'd set her mind on something. She led them over to a bench that had miraculously survived the invasion and sat. She slung her waterskin from her shoulder and offered it to Signy, who declined it with a shake of the head. Sille took a drink and began.

"Shortly after I arrived at the Eldergleam Sanctuary, I began to experience strange visions. I thought they were just dreams at first, but I soon began seeing things while I was conscious, as well. They were... disturbing. It always began peacefully, with a calm forest glade, but within moments the glade would explode into fire, and what I would later learn to be and Oblivion Gate." Sille hugged herself. "Over the years, the visions grew more intense and frequent, until I could hardly bear it. Mother Isolde tried everything she could to ease the experience, but nothing worked. Finally, she told me of the wayshrine of Kynareth in Cyrodiil. She encouraged me to travel to the shrine and pray to Kyne for guidance."

Before she knew it, Sille was laying out the entire story. She'd only meant to tell Signy what had brought her to the Imperial City, but the story seemed to tumble from her lips of its own volition. Her arrest, the Emperor's death, Martin, the Gates, all of it. It occurred to her that her sister did not really need to hear this, but by Kyne did she need to just tell someone about the past months.

When she finished, she realized that Signy was staring at her with raised eyebrows. She folded her hands in her lap, self-conscious.

"You were with the emperor when he died?" she asked.

"Yes," Sille responded. "Both of them, actually."

Signy smiled at that, and almost laughed. Sille realized just how long it had been since she'd seen her sister happy.

"But that's enough about me," she said quickly. "How have you been?"

The smile slipped off Signy's face, and Sille instantly regretted asking. "Fine." She looked away.

Sille rubbed her fingers together. She'd been hoping to keep the conversation going a little longer than this. "Where have you been posted?"

Signy turned back to her. "Hammerfell." That was a start. "They like to send you away from home to avoid conflict with friends and family, but usually not too far. They don't want you somewhere where you don't know the customs. But they needed people in Hammerfell, so when they learned my father was a Redguard they decided to ship me off there."

"Have you seen any of his family?" Sille had only been to Hammerfell once, when she was very young. She remembered very little of her father's homeland and family, and was certain Signy had remembered even less.

"I met one of his aunts. I never had the chance to see anyone else." The unspoken part was that she hadn't sought any of them out. Sille had known about Aunt Naifa; her parents had received a letter from her after her short visit with Signy. Naifa had noted that Signy seemed uninterested in meeting the rest of the family, even when offered.

"I've had a letter from Mother," Sille offered. "Father's taken on an apprentice."

Signy's lips pressed into a thin line. "He always wanted me to inherit the forge."

He did. "You still could, in time. When was the last time you visited them?"

Signy's hands curled into tight fists. "I haven't."

Sille blinked. "You haven't been to see them at all? Signy, it's been four years. You really should--"

"Do not tell me what I should or shouldn't do," her sister said sharply. "I have enough of that. Believe me, they want nothing to do with me."

Sille's heart sank. "I'm sure that's not true."

"It is," Signy said angrily. She stood and stared down at Sille. "I do not expect you to understand. You are everything they ever wanted you to be, while I am nothing but a disappointment to them. When you left for the sanctuary, they were sad to see you go, but they allowed it because they believed it was what you were meant for. When I said I wished to join the Legion, they told me I was making the greatest mistake of my life."

Sille stood as well. "They said that to you."

Signy nodded. "In so many words."

Sille studied her sister's face. It stared back at with accusing eyes, burning with an anger that had been there for far too long. Or maybe the accusation was Sille's own imagination, she thought as her eyes ran over the scar across Signy's eye. Without thinking, she reached out a hand and touched her cheek.

Signy flinched at the touch, but did not pull away. Sille's thumb stroked her sister's scar. "I've never told you how sorry I am," she murmured.

"Yes, you have. A hundred times over," Signy said, not meeting her eyes.

"Maybe so. But all I've ever told you is how sorry I am that you were hurt, not that it was my doing." She brought her other hand to Signy's face. "I never should have brought you to the woods that day. We were supposed to stay within sight of the house, but I wanted to go. I knew you couldn't climb like I could, but I led you into the trees anyway."

"That was a long time ago," Signy said, but Sille continued.

"I knew it was my fault that you were injured. I was supposed to protect you, and yet I put you in harm's way. I knew I bore the guilt, but I didn't know how to address it, so I buried it deep." She took her sister's hands in hers. "I am sorry, Signy."

Signy finally looked her in the eye. "I should not have blamed you for so long," she whispered. "It was an accident. You were just as much a child as I was."

Sille winced. "I don't need your forgiveness, Signy. I know the fault is mine."

"I know you don't," Signy said. She squeezed Sille's hands. "But you have it regardless."

Sille smiled. Signy smiled back. Deep in her chest, she had a strange feeling that something once lost had been found.

"How long do you plan to stay in Cyrodiil?" Signy asked. "It's been over a year since Uriel Septim died. I have to imagine you're missed at the sanctuary."

Sille sighed. "Truth be told, I'd hoped to be back months ago. Circumstances, regrettably, have compelled me to stay. I'm needed here. As it stands, I can't see myself leaving until things have stabilized in the Imperial City, at least."

"Well, there's some good news in that, at least." Signy cracked a smile. "I'll be here."

"And after?" Sille heard herself ask. She shouldn't hope for more, but she couldn't help herself.

Signy stilled. "It sounds like Vitellius plans to keep us here for some time. But after that... I must go where they send me, Sille."

"Surely you're entitled to some leave, though, after all this time. Would you–" Sille squeezed her sister's hands. "Would you consider returning with me to Skyrim?"

Signy hesitated. "I... I shall have to think on it."

Sille smiled. That was more than she could ever have dreamed of. "I should return to the tent," she said. "I'm sure Baurus is wondering where I've been. Will you join me?"

Signy smiled back. "Of course."

[nightcall99]

Dreams from 29.10.23

Dream 1: I've arrived via plane to my holiday destination, Bali, and then travel straight to my hotel accommodation from the airport. I had organised for some food to be delivered via room service via a mobile app but when I reach my hotel room, it is not there. I try to re-order it using the telephone but it still doesn't come. Then I go to the reception desk to order it again and am assured it will happen. I let the delivery person with their room service cart enter my room to set the foot down on the table, but after they've already left, I realise there's nothing there. But then when I get a closer look I realise that my room is filled with food and it's piled everywhere, I just didn't see any of it. The food is in various types of plastic packaging and then put in plastic bags and has been placed all over, such as on the shelves, near my luggage, under my bed etc. It's giving me the major ick. None of it is the food I ordered, much less want. I'm about to do away with all of it and cook myself something from scratch when I see a salad sub sandwich tucked away at the bottom of a pile and resign myself to eating that. I don't really want it, but it'll do since I don't really want to put in any effort into making something. As I'm eating the sandwich, I realise it's not vegetarian and has chicken in it. The taste and texture of it is very distinct and I stop myself from thinking too much about how it's just been sitting at room temperature for god knows how long and just keep eating it. It's very unsatisfying.

Dream 2: I arrived at work (a different shop to the one I usually am at) and when I get there KS is standing there waiting for me for some reason. I've been avoiding her months so i just kind of grumbled a 'hello', and she got really passive aggressive and said 'that's all you're going to say to me?'. I checked myself and tried to be a bit nicer to her and that tiny change in my attitude made her much more agreeable towards me.

Dream 3: I was getting ready for work in the morning and it was getting later and later, I was starting to cut it really close. Each time I looked at the clock, the minutes ticked closer to 9am, like 8:51, 8:52 etc. but I wasn't panicking, I just kept getting ready at my own pace. When I finished and looked at the time it turned out I still had enough time to get to work comfortably (I only live 1km from work), as if time had actually gone backwards a little, like now it was around 8:40.

Dream 4: I was standing in line somewhere to get food and I saw one of my mother's friends waiting on my left-hand side, so I said hi to her. I realised that one of mother's other friends, was on my right, but I assumed this lady didn't see me so I didn't say anything. Later on, this woman told me that she was really upset that I hadn't acknowledged her, to the point where she had felt really emotional and might have cried. I apologised and tried my best to tell a convincing lie in Vietnamese, how I did not see her because I didn't have my glasses on etc. This seemed to make her feel better.

Dream 5: I was staying in a hotel that was at the base of a tall, multi-storied building. There were different things going on, on each level, all creating a general atmosphere of hustle and bustle. The businesses operating on each floor are all cramped tightly together, and doing their best to utilise every little bit of space available. I am peering up at the topmost floor, where there is a Chinese restaurant running on the terrace. Patrons are being shown their seats by a host, and I see there are still empty seats able to accommodate more people as they appear.

[titanicfreija]

Thomas led the way, letting Sunny focus on Freija and letting Freija be hurt as they traveled through the Garden of Esila. Their goal was the confluence, but they didn't reach it.

"Cousin, you are wounded," observed a Techeun. Both guardians jumped and turned with their guns in hand, seeing the priestess for the first time. They walked past where she stood in meditation, and didn't notice until she spoke.

"You know anything about it?" Thomas asked. "We don't."

"Her... Spirit is wounded," clarified the Techeun. "We may be able to help, but it may take more of us. The spilled blight is quite potent."

"Yeah?" Freija asked, stepping in front of Thomas. "You need us to find them? I would trade some real important shit to get this to stop. Or just ease up."

The Techeun nodded. "I will await you in the Confluence."

~

"I guess I forget you guys can get hurt."

"What?"

Thomas chuckled. "I'm joking. I do, but it's a joke, forget that Titans aren't actually indestructible."

Freija scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course we're not. We die just like you. I die all the time, I died hundreds of times just last week."

"I know. That's kinda what I mean. You died hundreds of times but still keep going. You kept going until you got really actually hurt. And kept on after that. Even you thought you could run it off."

"I thought it was just lingering pain."

"See? Even you thought you were indestructible."

Freija gestured rudely at Thomas before they stepped off a ledge together, landing neatly in front of one of the Techeuns to escort.

"Cousin, your planar self burns!" she gasped, putting her hands to her mouth.

"I have never felt so Awoken," Freija mumbled to Sunny. The Techeun seemed to like Sunny's shell, too, smiling when the ghost 'hopped' into view. "Can you come with us and help fix it? It's painful, and the first one said we would need more than one to help."

~

The collected Techeuns were Li Sho, Mirena, and Vyrin. Vyrin apparently knew the priestess that named Freija, and was pleased at the coincidence. They chose a ritual floor on a high peak of the outside observatories in the Spine of Keres, so that Thomas could keep an eye out easily.

The ritual felt... Weird.

First, they did have to remove a layer of plate in the way. Second, she had to remain very still for longer than she normally did. Third, Awoken magic felt different from Light and Dark and gave Freija a sense of being swaddled lovingly and squeezed at the same time.

They didn't go into the ascendent plane, but instead they shared a vial of Queensfoil Tincture. Freija, upon drinking it, saw what they did. Like black plasma seething, the black flames wreathed her entire forearm. The skin beneath shone as Light apparently collected like swelling to a wound, but not far enough off to prevent what looked like lesions in the blue flesh.

"The Fire collected densely enough to stabilize itself," explained the priestess at Freija's head, Vyrin. "It is trying to feed on the limb, but it is not strong enough."

"If left untreated, it would die on its own," assured the one on the left, Li Sho. "Much more slowly."

"As one extinguishes a flame, so we shall smother this one," finished Mirena.

Freija closed her eyes so she wouldn't panic, but she still wanted to flail when she left the ground. The power pressed up from beneath as it pinned her into place, like being tucked into bed too tight and then sat on.

"Unfold your arms, lay them at your sides." Vyrin's voice already echoed with a new dimension, and Li Sho's had the same distance in it when she added, "As symmetrically as you can."

Freija tried, meeting no resistance as she obeyed. She didn't like the irony of feeling held down while freely mobile.

"This may hurt," warned Mirena.

It did.

The three Techeuns stood in their triangle around Freija and held their hands together, moving them apart as the magic expanded between their palms. The shine directed itself over the guardian and toward the magic of the other two, stretching into a golden triangle floating between them.

The fire on Freija's arm amplified and she resisted pulling away, but couldn't hold back her cry of pain. The Taken flame flattened as if pressed by a sleeve, getting smaller and closer, compressing the flames against her skin. She screamed before she bit it back down and tears streamed from her eyes as the fire fought back. As if it knew its end approached, the flame brightened, shining blindingly. Freija cried out again as the last tongue of flame petered out, pressed into nothingness against the silver skin.

Slowly, the guardian descended to the ground and curled up around her wounded limb.

"That technically falls under a curse, right? That's why it wasn't damage that the ghost could heal?" Thomas asked. "An external effect?"

"Yes," agreed Li Sho. "The Taken Flame condensed enough to stay. The damage would have been worse, taking place more slowly but for much longer. You will bear a mark of it in the Ascendent Realm."

"I can see it now," Freija agreed, looking with shimmering eyes. "Can you, Thomas?"

"Yeah. You have a scar, now, this plane and Ascendent. Neat trick. Looks like... You know how arc leaves those jagged lines it goes through? Like that, only smoke shaped in black. Looks like your normal ripples only being still and the wrong color."

"Pain will likely continue for some time, but will eventually stop," promised Mirena. "Fading between resurgences may occur for several years. We do not know what happens to guardians under these circumstances. History has known our sisters to lose parts of themselves to this magic, before we mastered the will to travel between realms."

Freija studied her arm and Sunny nudged Freija's head before tucking into her collar. The ball shape made it harder to relax but it fit into more crevices.

"Not your fault," Freija assured Sunny. "I decided to go. I decided to fight. I decided to stay. I had my goal." She grinned. "And I even achieved it."

"Will you be angry if I swap back to my old ones sometimes? I got rid of the Symphonic and the other wonky shaped one, but the Dreaming City and Dawning ones are staying. Oh, and neon."

Freija pretended to groan with exasperation before both giggled together.

"I suppose you were going to get cursed eventually," Thomas observed dryly, watching the Techeuns discuss what they had witnessed in the spell. "You've probably spent as much time in the Ascendent Realm as not since you woke up."

"Is that not normal?"

"No," he laughed. "No, that's new. Mara only let us know she was here in the last fifty years, the ascendent plane was a mystery until Oryx was defeated, and even then, only those invested in the Awoken, most of whom are Awoken, have been there much at all. You've had more of that Queensfoil Tincture in the last month than I have in this entire lifetime."

Freija nodded slowly, turning her arm to study the edges. "Yeah."

"Yeah. Things are not as they were. In your lifetime alone, everything has changed a lot. Mine is a complete turnaround. Three's done loops around mine." He cleared his throat. "But yeah, most of us elders don't feel too tight with the queen. I don't like her, personally, I don't like the aloof thing and I don't like the way the Techeun stuff works. I know she can't help that, she's a queen and stuff, gotta hold the posture." He snorted. "And I hate posturing. No envy for that position."

Freija nodded again, but she was distracted with her left arm as the tincture wore off and she could see it in the real. Thomas described it pretty well. "I get it. Whole, untouchable thing. She likes us, though. Guardians. Pretty sure she thinks we're stupid, but she thinks everyone is stupid, 'cos next to her, they tend to be."

Thomas snorted.

"You probably don't like that either," Freija teased, finally turning her study away from her scar and getting to her feet. "We won't see it under the armor. I can wear sleeves, if it'll help." She petted between Sunny's new ears with a fingertip. "I don't want you to feel bad."

"Why would I feel bad? My guardian worked hard to do something just for me. Knowing what it is helps, because I felt like I failed you when I couldn't figure out what was wrong. But everyone has smiled at me, and you look so proud every time I come out, I can tell it was worth it."

Freija swayed proudly.

~

~

🎶Bullshitting the magic canon lore again🎶

First Hall

First Hall 2

Centurion

Centurion 2

Infinity

Failure

Last stage

Victory

Hard time (med)

Something wrong (med)

Forced Healing (med) <-

Admiring (short)

Showing the Chatter Club (short)

Showing Caiatl (short)

Last one (short)

[shybunnie20]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Bff!Robin Buckley

★My Masterlist

Summary: Your relationship with Eddie isn't what it used to be. Things take a turn for the worse and he faces the fragility of life when you're left at death's doorstep.

Author's Note: This is the longest one shot I've written so far. I worked on this for two months, so please let me know if you enjoy it! Be sure to reblog, follow, and show some love ♡

Author's Note Cont.: Established relationship. AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Predominantly angst but has fluffy moments. Bittersweet ending! PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: Descriptions of physical trauma (of the reader). Heartache, arguing, Eddie being a crybaby, includes swearing.

tags: @protecteddiemunson4vr

Initially, you were on the fence about moving in with Eddie, it was his childhood home after all. You were worried about imposing and it’s nerve-wracking to officially combine your life with someone else’s.

Wayne assured you that he was happy to leave the trailer to the two of you so that you and Eddie could pursue your lives together. You were considered a part of his family and he knew you’d take good care of his nephew; he expected Eddie to look after you just the same.

Once you had agreed to make the transition, Eddie had to learn to accommodate your needs in the confined space he’d previously shared with his uncle.

You folded your arms and took in the cluttered bedroom. “Can we please take some of these posters down?”

Eddie feigned annoyance with a throaty groan, but beneath it, he was eager to appease you. “Fine, but the Corroded Coffin banner stays up.” With a devilish smile, he pulled you into his embrace.

The unnecessarily secure hug caused a strained giggle to escape you. “Eddieee! That’s too tight!”

He chuckled amusedly and loosened his grip. After nestling his nose into your hair, he hummed with contentment. “This is your castle now, princess.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and sighed. “Someday I’m gonna get you a big house with a yard and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make it happen.”

You smiled and buried your face into his neck. “My home is wherever you are. If we grow old together in this tin can then so be it.”

That was well over a year ago and things are far from how they were. The air, once saccharine, has a sour aftertaste that has failed to melt away as you’d hoped.

Eddie is making every effort to juggle his responsibilities. He plays twice a week at The Hideout with his band, which means frequent late-night practice sessions. Despite being a Hawkins High alumnus, he remains the Hellfire Club Dungeon Master. In addition, he works extended shifts at the auto shop. More often than not, they need all hands on deck, being that it’s the only one in town.

Due to his demanding schedule, you don’t see him much anymore. There’s always something that he has to tend to. By telling yourself that his absence isn’t personal, you’re unknowingly making excuses for your boyfriend’s inability to make time for you.

Each day, Eddie wakes up at the crack of dawn to get ready for work. If you’re lucky, he’ll place a brief kiss on your forehead while you’re tucked under the shabby blankets; not even awake to savor the gesture of waning affection. Most nights, you’re exactly where he saw you last. Fast asleep and worn out from your own job and keeping the mobile home tidy.

The lack of physical intimacy has Eddie feeling rather unsatisfied. On a few occasions, he slipped into bed beside you and his hands searched your body in the dark. It was low to be copping a feel but his self-restraint had been whittled down from exhaustion. You’d pushed his hand away and mumbled in semi-cognizant disinterest. Left rejected and frustrated, Eddie’s hurt feelings have brought on a distant shift in his demeanor. His internal thunder matches the rumble of your own.

At this rate, you’re merely coexisting with one another. Hardly so, given that he’s rarely home. You’ve been nothing but patient and supportive of his copious passions. Truly, you’re glad that Eddie has these things in his life that make him feel fulfilled, you just wish that you were still one of them.

There’s a good chance that communicating will resolve the strain, but you can’t bring yourself to speak up. It’s pathetic to beg for his undivided attention. Thinking that you could tough it out, you’ve broken your own heart by waiting for him to realize how lonesome you’ve been.

Instead of counting sheep, you lay and wonder if it's fate that the two of you have grown apart. Regardless of kismet interpretations, it’s debilitating to continue a masquerade of pretending that this isn’t torturous. You’ve killed a part of yourself to keep this love afloat with no lifeboats in sight.

This relationship is more than its worst moments but you’ve exhausted the idea that this is simply a rough patch. A day where anything changes for the better remains a pipe dream.

You’ve bid farewell to the little moments that once meant so much. Light years ago, Eddie couldn’t bear to have you out of his arms for more than a few minutes. He'd wrap his arms around your waist and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you washed dishes at the kitchen sink. He would pull you closer by the belt loops of your jeans to kiss you with fervor after just a few short hours apart. At the time, hours felt like an eternity.

It stings, feeling that you’re not missed. Or at least not missed enough for him to make an effort to be home more. You’ve stopped looking for reasons to stay because he hasn’t given you any. But for the sake of it, you give him one last chance.

Eddie pinky promised he’d be home for dinner tonight. With renewed optimism, you whip up his favorite comfort foods. It feels odd to be cooking after countless weeks of takeout leftovers. You’ve gotten so used to gnawing on cold pizza that eating has lost its significance.

After swiping on a little makeup, you slip into an outfit that’s a step up from your usual sweatpants and t-shirt. The uneasy feeling in your gut bears a striking similarity to how you felt the night of your first date with Eddie. The inexplicable desire to impress him is undeniable. Maybe if you look pretty enough, he’ll remember that you still exist. Ultimately, how the evening goes will determine where you belong. Whether it be in his life or elsewhere. You’re sincerely coveting the former.

Eddie swore on being home by six sharp. Even so, the steam rising off of the hand-cooked meal dissipates as it grows cold. You take a final glance at your watch and concede defeat at the forty-five-minute mark of his tardiness. As much as you hate to admit it, you should’ve known better than to trust that he’d show.

Time has always had a way of throwing it all in your face, but it never fails to wreck you. Just like the days that led to this one, the sun came up and went down. You can’t discern whether it’s what Eddie did or didn’t do. If it was the lack of effort or the intentional cold shoulder. At the end of the day, all of the love is still there but it serves no purpose now.

The chair creaks as you get to your feet. You step into the kitchen and refill your drinking glass at the sink, promptly gulping down the milk-tinted water as a placeholder for the meal you didn’t have. Your skull acts as a cauldron for the boiling hurt and it bubbles to a feverish froth. Before you can stop yourself, you chuck the glass down onto the worn linoleum and jagged shards scatter across the floor. Along with it, you fall to pieces. Your back slams against the cupboard as you slide down until your tailbone meets the floor.

At fifteen minutes to ten, the trailer door slams closed with a thud. Eddie toes off his grimy work boots and notices the romantic setting for two, the plates entirely untouched. It’s immediately evident to him that you went out of your way to put together a special evening that is well past expired.

Eddie’s gaze then finds the broken glass. He inhales sharply and concern coats his lungs. He heads down the hall toward the light emitting from the bedroom and calls out. “My bad for being late, I was-” Eddie reaches the doorway and his sentence drops off when he sees you haphazardly shoving clothes into a duffel bag. “What’re you doing?” He asks, his voice sewn tightly with puzzlement.

Mutely tugging open the top drawer of the dresser, you grab a fistful of socks and underwear and tuck it into the bag. Eddie used to be able to finish your sentences, but tonight you’ll be finishing his. You’re already anticipating the bullshit justifications that you’ve heard time and time again.

Eddie becomes frustrated with being blatantly ignored. When you shift to step past him, he blocks the doorway by extending his arm. “I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” You look into his hardened eyes, your own marbled with inflamed crimson veins. “But there’s no way I’m staying here.”

There’s a throbbing in his ribcage at the sight of how visibly saddened you are. Finally being confronted with the consequences of his actions, Eddie swallows hard. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Your icy stare falters with the release of a shaky exhale. “I'm done waiting around for you.” Eddie’s expression only adds insult to injury, the fucking nerve of him to play dumb right now.

He throws his head back and scoffs, “Give me a break, I didn’t mean to be late! I was the only one closing tonight.”

Unconvinced, you mutter, “Uh huh,” while ducking beneath his blockading limb.

Eddie scoffs louder this time. “Okay, I see how it is. You think I’m lying.”

You don’t care if he’s telling the truth or not. Even with all of the space that’s amassed between the two of you, there’s no room for honesty. Eddie continues to prod while you rummage through the bathroom drawers gathering necessities.

The beat of your heart thumps wildly in your ears. All the while, your bones have caught a fever, and the fire in your chest spreads, charring your throat as the flames continue to climb. The blistering smoke irritates the backs of your eyes, causing tears to reform and your nose to run.

Eddie makes a sound of artificial amusement and it reverberates off of the shallow walls as he follows you to the living room. “Convincing performance, babe. You’re really sellin’ it, but you can put the bag down now, alright? I get it. I learned my lesson.”

While putting on your shoes you swallow a whimper. Your backbone is coming apart at the seams, but you refuse to express how distraught you truly are.

Folding his arms across his chest, Eddie continues. “Are you seriously making this big of a deal over one missed dinner?”

You stand and take a step toward him, accusingly pressing your pointer finger to his chest. Applying enough pressure that your nail leaves an indentation. “If you think this is because of one dinner, you’re fucking delusional.”

The hinges on the front door squeal as you push it open and walk outside. For far too long all you’d wanted was him, but now being in the same room is unbearable.

Eddie treads on your heels, descending the concrete steps out into the ill-lit trailer park. “Can you not be so overdramatic for once in your life? This is ridiculous. C’mon, let’s just go back inside and talk it out.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You growl while jamming the keys into the door of your car and tossing the duffel bag onto the passenger seat. It’s not improbable that if he begged you right now, you’d give in. Part of you is relieved that he isn’t on his knees because you’d never be able to walk away otherwise. Without sparing another glance in his direction, you reverse and steer out of the trailer park.

Cemented in place, Eddie’s socked feet press into the rocky gravel. The lights from the neighboring mobile homes flare like lasers as tears deluge his vision. The utter disbelief that you’re leaving him causes a surge of nausea to churn in his abdomen. What the hell just happened?

As luck would have it, Robin answers when you ring her doorbell. “Hey! Oh- you look like shit.”

Your shoulders slump with the bow of your head, feeling just as shitty as you look. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Errr, sorry. Come on in.” Robin insists, stepping aside for you to enter her home.

The two of you plop down on her living room couch and share a short-lived silence before unpacking the evening’s sequence of events. To the best of her ability, Robin digests your nonsensical blubbering about how you didn’t want to ask Eddie to give up the things he loved.

Half a box of tissues later, you’ve calmed some. “I feel like such a fucking idiot.” You sniffle and fiddle with a loose thread on your sleeve. “Y’know, I can’t even remember the last time we showered together. He treats me like a roommate. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he isn’t in love with me anymore.”

Robin frowns. “I don’t blame you. I’m sorry that you’re going through this.” She takes your hand in hers and squeezes it reassuringly.

Shortly after you’d left Forest Hills, Eddie did the same. He figured taking a joy ride down the streets of Hawkins could help clear his conscience. With heavy metal crackling from the stereo, he drives down the sparsely illuminated avenues. In an attempt to escape from his bleeding reality, he focuses on the beat of the music; tapping the steering wheel with his sterling silver-adorned digits.

This is the worst fight you and Eddie have ever had. Sure, there have been trivial arguments over him leaving water on the bathroom floor after taking a shower. Not to mention, Eddie was particularly explosive about you misplacing his belongings while cleaning the trailer. However, it has never gotten heated to the extent that either of you stormed off.

As much as you appreciate Robin’s hospitality, you feel that you’ve overstayed your welcome. Especially since she has to work in the morning. On your way out, you hug her firmly to convey your gratitude. “Thanks for being such a good friend, Robin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Robin rests her arms on the car door as you settle behind the wheel. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

With a nod, you force a grin as a semblance of emotional stability. “I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, but still. At least let me know when you get to the motel.” With a sympathetic expression, Robin pushes the door closed and watches as you back out of the driveway. 

Truthfully you would rather stay at Robin’s place than at a crusty motel, but you can’t bring yourself to burden her with your hardships. The radio hisses with a channel teasing to stick. A faint melody fades in and out of the static as you concentratedly twist the tuning dial to find the sweet spot. While preoccupied, you fail to notice that you’re driving through a four-way intersection.

Glass rains down like hail when the driver’s side door is struck. The echo of skidding tires halts as your vehicle comes to a complete stop, the passenger side crushed inward by the thick trunk of a tree. The other driver stumbles out into the street, disorientated by whiplash. They frantically shout for help and flag down a car that pulls up to the intersection.

It’s not long before the accident is encircled by emergency responders. Dismal gray columns of smoke lift into the air as the engine’s inferno heats the mangled steel frame that cages your scathed body.

Meanwhile, Eddie ventures to decompress at the private spot he used to frequent with his trusty lighter and a single lazily rolled joint. As he turns the corner of Highland and Chestnut, he’s taken aback by the twirling red and blue streams of light.

The firemen work skillfully to free you from the burning structure. Secured by your seatbelt, you’re slumped forward in your seat; your chin digging into your clavicle. The blaze roaring just inches away caresses you, leaving fiery kisses across your skin. Even so, the warmth gradually drains from your complexion as you begin to sink into the earth to lie forever. Death coaxes you with its enticingly bitter embrace and you're lured beyond control.

Eddie’s van slows as he drives past the scene. The catastrophic sight is unsettling but he can’t take his eyes off of the sparks from the jaws of life that cut the driver’s side door from the frame. It’s far too dark to make out what models of cars are involved.

By the looks of it, there’s a slim chance that whoever is being pulled from the vehicle will survive. There’s a morbid sense of comfort in knowing that he’s not the only one having an awful night. More than anything, he’s glad it’s not him who got into an accident.

Lakeside with the doors wide open, Eddie lies in the back of his van. He drags an ample hit from the joint, striving to cloud away the image of the ecstatic look you gave him when he’d assured you that he would be home on time. Eddie hasn’t seen you that excited in longer than he can remember. He wonders how this evening would’ve gone if he’d kept his word.

The argument replays, and it’s the frailty in your voice that’s penetrating deep into his memory. Eddie convinces himself that it was just a bad fight because that’s what couples do. You’ll come back in a day or so, you’ll hug and make up, and your lives will go back to normal.

Except that‘s exactly what got him into this situation. Things cannot go back to how they were, he has to do better. You deserve to be prioritized and he realizes that now.

Rattling fills the ambulance as it speeds over fragmented pavement caused by the most recent blackberry winter. Strapped on the gurney, you lie motionless. Catatonic, in essence, you're wading in and out of consciousness. Even though your eyes are practically swollen shut, you can see. Though, it’s like looking out of a frosted window. A pearlescent film alters the clarity and runs red due to the blood trickling down from the gash in your eyebrow.

The gurney wheels wobble as you’re rushed down the corridors of the hospital, lungs struggling for air as the bag valve mask offers little assistance to your labored breathing. Under the knife, the surgeons struggle to contain the internal bleeding and operate tirelessly to keep you alive.

After smoking himself as numb as physically possible, Eddie glances at his watch which indicates that it’s half past midnight. He zones out during the drive home and focuses on the painted white dashes that repeatedly disappear under his van. Once he stumbles back into the trailer, it feels exceptionally vacant and the silence is deafening.

Be that as it may, he’s bone-weary from the weed and the strenuous shift at work. Ultimately, he decides he’ll go to bed and deal with his emotions tomorrow. It’s probably for the best since he tends to make poor choices when he’s overtired.

Eddie shucks off the layers of denim and leaves them in a jumbled pile on the floor. His high has broken sooner than he preferred, which makes it difficult to doze off. For a while he tosses and turns on his side of the bed, respecting that the other side still belongs to you.

He listens to the sounds that he’d forgotten about. The crickets outside the window chirping like an off-tempo symphony, the buzzing of the outdated refrigerator in the kitchen, and dogs barking off in the distance. All of the sounds blend to create a foreign cradlesong, lulling him into the twilight of his mind. Your steady breathing is the lullaby he longs for. Shortly after his restless adjusting, exhaustion overtakes him.

Post-operation, the humming machine beside you controls respiration as you lie in the hospital bed. The cocktail of painkillers in your system has buried you into the bottomless oblivion of unconsciousness. Cessation of internal bleeding is a miracle in itself, but being put in a medically induced coma isn’t exactly a triumph.

Due to having broken ribs, the expansion of your chest is feeble. In order to ensure that you remain stable, the medical staff keeps a close eye.

The sun has long since climbed the horizon. Eddie sleeps well past noon due to his body taking the time it required to achieve a relatively homeostatic state. Last night, he was supposed to have an intimate dinner, make love to you, and wake up with you wrapped in his arms. Instead, he was tormented by the fact that not only failed you but his uncle as well. He was raised better than to take your love for granted.

Eddie finds his hands searching for the comfort of your warmth, only to be met with chilled bedsheets. Given that you didn’t come home, he’s quick to remember the unsteadiness he saw in your eyes. Eddie caught a glimpse of the exposed nerve that was worn down to the point of you giving up on him, and he hates himself for it.

He feels vexed that you didn’t express how you’d been feeling. Regardless, he should’ve known damn well that he was running the risk of losing you. Eddie has to figure out where you wound up and think of a way to make things right. One thing is for sure, Eddie refuses to go a single day without you.

After getting out of bed, he pulls on a questionably clean outfit plucked from a heap on the floor. Hell, it passes the sniff test. Correctly assuming that you went to Robin’s after the fight, Eddie snags his keys off of the kitchen counter and sets out to locate you.

When he arrives at Robin’s place, he’s met with an empty driveway. A tinge of worry casts a shadow but Eddie fights off the pessimistic thoughts that pelt him like an air raid. Without stopping, he drives to Family Video. Eddie suspects that Robin is at work if her car isn’t at home, but that leaves your car unaccounted for.

Distracted by the cyclone of desperation stirring powerfully within him, Eddie nearly trips when he hops out of his van. He strides through the double doors and leans his forearms against the front counter.

Robin appears from the back room having been beckoned by the door chime. She stops in her tracks and a bewildered expression forms on her freckled face.

“What’s that look for?” Eddie asks regarding her strong reaction to his presence.

“Uh- nothing.” She resumes her path to the counter and sits in front of the computer. Her fingers clack away on the keyboard to log returns into the system.

Eddie rubs the back of his neck and shifts his focus to a scuff on the surface of the countertop. “I think it’s safe to assume you’re already aware of what went down.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “She stayed with you last night, right?” If Eddie knows anything about you, it's how much you confide in your best friend. It’s a fair assumption, given that’s precisely where you went.

“No, she didn’t,” Robin says snappily, baffled by how inappropriately relaxed he’s acting right now. What is he even doing here?

Eddie’s brows furrow and he raises his head to look at her. “What do you mean no? Where’d she go then?”

Robin stops typing to look at him. “Wh- Do you not know?” When she learned of your incapacitation, she thought that surely Eddie had already found out.

His posture goes rigid as he straightens from his leaning position. That’s not a sentence that ever leads to promising news.

Swiveling on the stool, Robin cocks her head in disbelief at the lost look on Eddie’s face. “She’s in the ICU.”

Blood rushes to Eddie's head and his ears begin to ring like a pipe bomb just went off in the video store. “What? Where’d you get that idea?”

“I guess she had me listed as her emergency contact, I got the call this morning.”

Eddie shouts vehemently, “And you didn’t think to tell me that?!”

Robin raises her hands defensively. “I thought you knew!”

Already having spun around, Eddie dashes through the doors and hops back into his van. Going twenty miles per hour over the legal limit, he speeds down the drabby roads of Hawkins. Luckily he finds an open parking spot in the crowded lot of the hospital.

Following the wall directory that indicates where the intensive care unit is located, Eddie runs faster than he thought he was capable of. He conquers the lengthy stairwells thanks to the adrenaline pumping through his veins. His eyes scan his surroundings while he blindly navigates the polished hallways.

Eddie fails to heed the “medical personnel only” sign and barges into the unit. A voice calls out for security and addresses his intrusion. “Young man, you can’t go in there!”

Frantically inspecting the area, he spots your name listed on a board. The sharp pang in his side from being out of shape isn’t phasing him in the slightest. When Eddie passes the threshold to the room you’re in, his heart is gouged from his chest; ripped clean from the cavity at the sight before him.

Wrapped in bloodied gauze, your complexion is hellishly bruised with raisin and rust-colored burns. The array of discolored hues makes you look like a well-loved doll that’s been drawn on with a permanent marker.

All Eddie can muster is an exasperated “Oh, sweetheart...” with a wobbly lower lip as tears well in his eyes. He reaches for your hand, but just as his fingertips are about to graze yours, he’s yanked backward by a security guard.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Eddie wails. "Let me go!” His composure disintegrates as he tries to free himself from the guard’s unrelenting grip. The resistance only lasts a few seconds before Eddie’s muscles give out and he’s dragged away.

Astonishingly, Eddie respects the stern warning he receives. He knows that if he impedes, it’ll make things worse for you. He’s done enough damage as is.

In the third-floor waiting room, Eddie settles into the chair in the far corner. Sitting near the window would provide him with vitamin D, which would help him feel a little brighter, but he intentionally avoids it. He won’t allow himself to feel the glow of the sun when you’re clinging to life by the skin of your teeth.

The room is no larger than fifteen by eleven feet and has a sterile atmosphere that makes Eddie feel rather uneasy. The adrenaline dwindles from his system, allowing him to drift off while resting in the firm armchair. Understandably, considering he didn’t sleep well last night without you beside him.

Over the course of the day, the respiratory analysts run tests to determine whether you can be weaned off of the ventilator but you’re still unable to breathe unassisted.

“Mr. Munson?” A tall, older male doctor asks flatly.

Eddie stirs, his frizzy curls flying as he shakes away the drowsiness weighing on his eyelids. “Yeah, yes. That’s me.” He rubs his eyes with his fists and sits up. “How’s she doing, is she alright?”

“Well, the acute agonal respiration has…”

Eddie stares blankly as the medical jargon goes in one ear and out the other. It sounds like an entirely different language, he has no fucking clue what the doctor is talking about. Eddie is trying his best to comprehend the complex terminology.

“...a coma has been induced to allow her a better chance at healing. With that, we’re hoping to see a reduction in brain swelling. Though I do regret to inform you that the likelihood of her waking is a matter of if, not when.’

It feels like the roof is crashing down on Eddie, thrusting him through the layers of the earth until he reaches the molten outer core. Grief eats away at his sweat-slick skin, causing a loss of feeling in his fingertips as if the blood in his veins slows to a crawl.

“...If she does rouse, there’s a likelihood that she’ll experience anterograde amnesia.”

Eddie scoots to the edge of his seat and runs his palms roughly down his face. “Amnesia? Does that mean she won’t remember me?” He gulps sorely and his eyes form a glassy sheen at the notion of everything that the two of you shared being lost forever. He doesn’t even want to imagine what his life would be like without you.

The doctor opens and closes his hand as if to catch Eddie’s concern as it floats through the air. “No, no. She shouldn’t have difficulty with memory retrieval. Consolidation is what may be impacted. Only temporarily, we hope.”

With a disheartened “thank you” from Eddie, the doctor excuses himself. The strength that had kept Eddie’s tears at bay dwindles and he slumps back into the chair, sobbing noisily. He sinks his top teeth into his knuckles in an attempt to muffle the whimpers that tumble from his lips. What is he supposed to do now? Is he going to start praying to a god he doesn’t believe in?

With his optimism beyond pulverized, Eddie is overcome with the fear of losing you. How could he have let something like this happen? While managing the chaos of the present, Eddie lost sight of his future. You.

To say he’s regretful would be a substantial understatement. As Eddie realizes that you were in the burning car that he��d driven past, he feels like he’s going to be sick. The sensation is so strong that he keeps a small trash can nearby just in case. 

Beyond the thick panes of glass, the setting sun brushes the horizon and leaves the sky a flushed pink. Eddie attempts to talk some sense into himself. As difficult as it is, he takes on the responsibility of notifying your friends and family by phone call. Of the many, one call goes out to Robin.

As soon as she’s able, Robin arrives to provide Eddie with the emotional support he desperately needs. Few words are exchanged as Eddie drifts in and out of crying fits. She sits beside him and strokes his back reassuringly while he hiccups and coughs.

Robin hasn’t witnessed Eddie this perturbed before. It’s evident to her how sincerely in love he continues to be with you even though he neglected to express that when it mattered most.

A twister of bleak thoughts rips through Eddie’s mind, turning his mental state to rubble. It’s hard to process each emotion individually when they’re all equally loud. At this point, all he can think about is the little things that he may never get to do again. One particular memory stands out from the rest.

In the moments after Eddie made love to you for the first time, you laid in his bed on your stomach; naked, drowsy, and utterly satisfied. You looked ethereal to him. Eddie traced the contour of your spine with the tips of his fingers while you slept. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear to admire your sleepily blissed-out expression. Thereupon, Eddie knew that you were the most important aspect of his life and that wouldn’t change.

As much as she'd like to, Robin can't stay all night. After sacrificing her evening to console him, she has to go home. Which leaves Eddie by his lonesome once again. It’s a rough night but somehow he manages to catch some shut eye.

Come morning, the staff still won’t allow Eddie to visit you. He rings Robin and Wayne to update them when he receives the slightest bit of information. There’s no regression in your condition, but that offers little relief.

In the following days, Eddie camps out in the waiting room. Forfeiting his comfort for the sake of being there for you. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he wasn’t there in the event that you needed him. After four days drag by, you’re finally capable of breathing without the assistance of the mechanical ventilator.

“Mr. Munson, would you like to see her now?” A nurse asks.

Eddie’s eyes widen with the desperate nod of his head. “Fucking finally.” He murmurs to himself.

Now that you’re no longer in critical condition, you’ve been situated in a room outside of the ICU. The nurse leads Eddie to the room and he hesitates outside the doorway. Up until now, he wanted to see you more than anything. But now that he can, he’s petrified. Taking the deepest breath he’s ever taken, he enters.

The blunt discomfort in his ribs is alleviated by how pretty you look. You’ve been cleaned up, which makes you appear less mangled than you did when he saw you last. Eddie's movement resembles a shuffle and his eyes switch between your face and his dirty sneakers. As if trying not to startle you, he carefully pulls up a seat at your bedside to absorb his new reality.

The steady beep of the heart rate monitor brings consolation because it reminds him that you are in fact still alive. Your unmoving hand is gently taken into his trembling palm. Eddie handles it delicately, knowing how fragile you must be.

He contemplates in silence, unsure if you would even be able to hear him if he did talk. Surely, you must be in there somewhere. In a circumstance like this, what would be the right thing for him to say?

The pad of Eddie’s thumb strokes your knuckles with a featherlight touch and his burnt caramel irises are downcast in chagrin. He can’t bring himself to look at you for very long, feeling that he doesn’t deserve to because he hurt you.

With his gaze remaining fixed downward, his other senses heighten in the hopes of detecting a subtle twitch or quiver. Any kind of indication that you know he’s there and that he promises to be by your side for as long as he lives.

Your motionlessness is killing him, but you look agonizingly peaceful. Beneath the plum-colored bruises, stitches, and scabs, you’re still the beautiful girl he treasures. Eddie whispers, “my sweet angel,” as he places a kiss on the back of your hand.

The tears that run astray trickle down his cheeks, each salty droplet holding a memory. Eddie isn’t ready for you to become a real angel. If you do, he’ll spend the rest of his life searching for white feathers and shapes in the clouds. Eddie will endlessly scour for signs that you’re watching over him.

Thirty minutes pass before he finally garners the courage to speak. “I don’t really know where to start, this feels kinda silly. But first and foremost, I owe you an apology.” Eddie tries to swallow the stale air that's making his throat feel brittle. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I know that probably doesn’t mean shit. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself, so I don’t expect you to.”

With his free hand, Eddie wipes his cheeks with the hem of his shirt. “If I’m being honest, I’m fucking terrified that you aren’t gonna wake up. I miss you so god damn much. I can’t imagine how tired you are, and if you wanna let go… It’s okay.”

Eddie can feel pressure building behind his eyes as the tears threaten to fall faster. He blinks them away and tries to stay focused. “But I want you to stay, baby. I’m not done being selfish yet, I need you to come back to me. Please come back. I promise I'll treat you better this time.”

It feels like he’s on a bullet train, the outside world soaring by at lightning speed while the hospital room is eerily stationary. “I swear to god, I’ll never make you feel alone like that again. No more broken promises either.” Eddie hooks his pinky finger with yours, solidifying his word.

There’s a knock at the door and Eddie peers over his shoulder. A nurse enters with a full rally bag and a roll of bandages. "You'll need to step out for a moment."

Eddie is unwilling to leave your side, but he knows he shouldn’t interfere. When he rises from his seat, he gives your hand a brief kiss. Eddie glances behind him before leaving and thinks as if saying to you, “I’ll be right back, princess. Don’t be scared.”

As the nurse is refreshing your bandages, Eddie wanders until he happens upon the gift shop. He purchases a wimpy bouquet with the pocket change he has on him. When he’s allowed to return to your room, he places the vase on the utility cart beside the bed. Even though you’re unable to see them, Eddie tells himself that you like them.

From thereon, Eddie never leaves your side. He doesn’t care about the awful nicotine withdrawal or how much he misses his mattress, there’s not a chance in hell that he’s going to be separated from you longer than absolutely necessary. Your hand never leaves his for as long as he's sitting at your bedside.

The staff takes pity on him and brings him ham and cheese sandwiches. Eddie struggles to eat one-handed but he makes it work. He wonders if you’re hungry, considering you’re surviving off of IV mixtures. He misses eating junk food with you and licking the cheese dust off of your fingers on movie nights.

Eddie’s sanity gradually slips due to being confined to the small room, but having visitors is keeping him relatively sane. Over the remainder of the week, the atmosphere vibrantly evolves. The gifts from Wayne, the Hellfire Club members, and your family bring a spiritedness similar to that of a blooming field of spring flowers. Themed balloons, greeting cards, and assorted floral arrangements line the windowsill.

Robin buys you a stuffed monkey that she names Bananas and it stays tucked under your arm. She stops in every other day, usually bringing Eddie clean clothes from home. Robin keeps you company while he takes brisk showers in the private bathroom. She even brings nail polish and paints your fingernails your favorite color.

Eddie wishes you could see how incredibly loved you are. In part, he's glad that you’re not awake because you don’t have to bear the damage your body has endured.

His thoughts continue to consume him. Eddie incessantly scolds himself for having ruined the best thing that's ever happened to him. He feels wholly responsible for you being in this state. If he hadn’t fucked up, there wouldn’t have been a fight, and you wouldn’t have left.

Eddie is slouched in the same uncomfortable chair that he’s been glued to for two weeks. He’s currently zoned out while mindlessly drawing shapes on your wrist. His eyes are fixed on the western program playing on the outdated television across the room. Eddie is pulled back to reality by the twitch of your fingers in his grasp.

His heart leaps in his chest and his eyes switch to where his hand is joined with yours. Eddie holds his breath, sits up straight, and stares intensely. He’s convinced that he’s just imagining things until there’s another twitch. And another.

Eddie’s eyes dart between your hand and your face, whispering “C’mon, baby. You can do it.”

Your eyelashes flutter as your lids steadily retract, though they don’t open very much. It’s like the storm is dispersing and the sky is pulling itself together as you come to.

Eddie is elated, to say the least. He tries to stay calm because the last thing he wants is for you to be frightened.

“There’s my girl,” He says softly while stroking your arm. Tears of pure joy roll off his cheeks. “Hi, sweetheart.” Eddie sniffles, “I really missed you.”

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[starg1rlie]

sigh.

this was probably the fiftieth sigh that zhongli had let out. he's been trying for the past fifteen minutes to feed his daughter, and it has only ended in successful failure. zhongli could already feel a migraine coming on, and it wasn't even afternoon yet.

"come now, ju, you must eat," zhongli murmured gently, already scooping out another spoonful of sunsettia mush (he personally had mashed the sunsettias himself, after checking its ripeness, of course. he only wanted to feed the very best fruits to his daughter, after all), making incomprehnsible noises as he wiggled the spoon to his daughter's pouty lips.

"no!" she flailed her arms out and smacked the spoon away from her, giggling in glee when the mush splattered against zhongli's face, even going so far as to clap her hands together happily. he heaved yet another sigh and dug into his pocket for one of his handkerchiefs, dabbing at his face before folding it neatly and tucking it away under his vest. he'd long shed his dress jacket to avoid any sunsettia stains (those were terrible to wash out and he was incredibly fond of this specific jacket), and he'd had to roll his sleeves up to avoid any other messes.

"嬰兒, please, you're torturing me. you must eat. your mother would most likely strangle me if she were ever to find out i'd let you starve." his chest tightened at the mention of his significant other; the pain was still fresh. it'd only been two months now, what else could he have expected?

ju gurbled, sticking two fingers into her mouth, suckling on them curiously. she'd only been a tiny infant around the time you passed away, so she prorbably had no idea who zhongli was even talking about. perhaps it was better this way. eventually, though, he'd have to tell her the truth about her mother, even if it grieved him.

"eat. it's good for you. i promise. just finish this bowl and i'll tell you a story," zhongli promised, tentatively raising the silver spoon back to ju's lips, his eyes closed in expectation of another spoonful of sunsettia mush being flung at him.

he waited. nothing happened.

cracking an eye open, zhongli watched as ju cooed softly, "chewing" through the mush and swallowing. he let out a relieved sigh, and continued to feed her spoonful by spoonful till the wooden bowl was empty, and ju was already nodding off. she had the habit of becoming drowsy whenever she ate, and in his personal opnion, he found it quite adorable. it also made him a bit sad; you used to be the exact same way, and zhongli would end up tucking you into bed like a little child.

"爸爸愛你，你知道嗎?"zhongli whispered against ju's ear, wrapping his arms around her tiny body and picking her up, tucking her into the crook of his arm. "mommy loved you too. so, so, much." zhongli poked ju in her stomach, which she gurgled at happily. "would you like to take a nap, ju?" he inquired softly, already treking up the stairs to his bedroom, peering down at her warm honey-gold eyes. people say she looked more like him than you, but he knew better. ju's personality and yours were one in the same, no matter how people saw it.

he lay ju down into her crib, ducking his head down to avoid tangling his hair through the dragon mobile that hung over it (you'd crafted it yourself, with some help of course, mainly because you were obsessed with zhongli's dragon form), letting his warm, calloused hands remain around ju's waist for a tiny bit longer before letting the fabric of her clothes slide past his fingers. "good-night, ju," he whispered against her forehead, pressing a chaste kiss against her temple before closing the curtains to block out the sun's rays.

"bye-bye," ju mumbled, wiggling her fingers at zhongli through the crib as he retreated.

"bye-bye," zhongli repeated, quietly shutting the door behind him.