#hopefully *not* an infection or something ffs

[grumpyoldsnake]

Been feeling actively ill whenever I’m even vaguely sleep deprived or tired all this past week, which, uh.

It makes for an unfortunate combo with the current fresh round of hyperfocus. >_>

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Turtles x tattoo artist!reader

Got this idea after I read a Leo x tattoo artist on Wattpad. It was super cute, but as a tattooed person that has started tattooing my friends, I have to tell my fellow ff writers something that will make your tattoo ff more realistic. DON’T EVER REUSE NEEDLES!!!! WEAR GLOVES!!!!! ALSO WHEN YOU PUT ON A STENCIL!!!!!!! Hopefully I saved some turtles from an infected tattoo.

Enjoy!💙❤️💜🧡

Warnings: Needles, pain, tattooing, some of the turtles being cheeky, spelling.

—-----------------------------------------------

Leonardo:

As your last client of the day went out the door with their newest tattoo, you breathed a sigh of relief. The last few ones have been though. Unable to sit still, with a need to look at the tattoo several times while you were working on it, almost causing you to go outside of the lines. Not what you needed. But all the thought of irritation and frustration washed away, when you remembered; your boyfriend was coming to get a tattoo.

Last night, Leonardo had asked you if you would do a tattoo on him. You had obviously said yes, excited to finally tattoo your boyfriend. Leo was by far heavily tattooed, but he did sport a few on his arms, all symbolizing his brothers.

As you locked the front door, flipped the open sign to close and pulled the curtains, you could hear the back door that led to the alley, open and close. It was Leo. You rushed to the back door with a happy skip, and greeted your green boyfriend with a big smile. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and brought his face down to yours for a kiss.

“Hey”, you smiled.

“Hey”, he smiled back before giving you another kiss.

You brought him with you back into the main area of the shop, asking him what he wanted to get tattooed. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pockets and gave it to you. You unfolded it.

A katana. Simple black lines with minor shadowing. You were pretty sure that Leo had drawn this himself.

“Of course”, you chuckled, looking at the paper in your hand. “Where do you want it?”

“Right here”. Leo pointed to the side of his left forearm.

“That could actually be really good”, you said, studying his arm. Leo’s arm was nothing new for you. They had been wrapped around you so many times, that you knew them as well as the back of your own hand. But on the rarest occasions, had you thought about tattoo placements on his arm.

“I think we should size it up. Around… this big”. You measured out his arm, with one finger marking out just above his wrist and just below his elbow.

“Is that because you as a tattoo artist know it would look better, or is it because you as my girlfriend want an excuse to keep tattooing me for as long as possible?”, Leo asked with a smile.

“A little bit of both, I would say”.

“In that case, I think we should do it”.

To say that you were happy was an understatement. All your earlier tiredness and frustration flew out the window, as you went to your desk so you could draw the stencil. Leo followed you, and watched you intently while you drew over the stencil paper, tracing the outlines of his design.

“That’s not how Raph did it”, Leo said with a small chuckled, remembering the time he and his brothers did each other's tattoos, with a tattoo machine Donnie had made.

“How did Raph do it?”, you asked, smiling at the thought of what Leo had told you. Young turtle brothers sitting in the shared bedroom of their old lair, long after Master Splinter had gone to bed, tattooing each other like the young rebellious teenagers they once were.

“He drew it directly on me with a marker”.

“Doesn’t sound very sanetray”, you laughed. “Especially not in a sewer”.

“Nope. That is why I’m going to you from now on”, Leo said as he reached down to kiss your forehead.

With Leo’s stencil finished, you went to work preparing your station one last time that evening. You put on your gloves, wrapped the station in film, prepared the cream, poured the black ink, got your new needles and wrapped your machine for a better grip.

Leo watched you with those eyes that always made you blush, while you disinfected his arm, applied the transfer jell, and then placed the stencil. When you moved back and told Leo to look in the mirror, he didn’t move. Instead he just stared at you with those eyes and that little smile.

“I trust you. It looks good”.

Fighting your flustered face and biting down your lip, you moved Leo into the seat, before stretching his arm and moving it to an angle, so it would be easy for you. With that you started your machine and began doing his lines.

Leo - with his high pain tolerance - didn’t move a muscle, but instead just stared at you as you worked. You could feel his strong gaze on you, trying your hardest to focus on his tattoo in front of you.

You continued working in silence, with nothing but the sound of your tattoo machine being heard. Silence wasn’t new for you and Leo, nor did it make you uncomfortable. The two of you would often enjoy each other’s presence in silence, each doing your own thing, simply finding comfort in being near each other. Like him meditating or sharpening his katana, while you were drawing or reading. Just like right now. Leo admiring you while you were working.

After two hours of tense work on Leo’s arm, you finally finished. With a last whip over his arm, you wrapped it up, making sure it would be protected during the first stages of healing.

“So, what do you think?”, you asked Leo as he assessed the katana on his arm with warm eyes.

“It’s amazing”, he said, smiling bright. “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

“You might have told me a few times”, you said as you started cleaning up.

Leo stood up from his seat and walked to you, before wrapping both arms around you, bringing his face down to yours.

“I love you, my amazing little tattoo”, he said, before letting your lips meet in a sweet kiss. And with that you knew, you would definitely tattoo Leo again.

Raphael:

Under normal circumstances, you would have said no to be doing a tattoo in the sewers. No way that wouldn’t get infected and heal probably. It was a tail made for disaster. But when your brute of a boyfriend asked you as nicely as he did, and promised you cuddles and a foot rub, there was no way you could say no. Especially not when he made those big teddy bear eyes that only you got to see. You just had to say yes.

So there you were in Raphael’s room, in the sewers deep below New York City, setting up a small tattoo station on his nightstand. Raphael stood right behind you fiddling with a football in his hands, watching you unpack your stuff with curiosity. Yes, he did have a tattoo, but one that was made with a machine Donnie had but together, not a real machine. So to see a real one in front of him for the first time, had his attention peaked.

“So”, you asked, checking the battery for your machine. “What were you thinking of?”

“A samurai”, Raph said with a small smile, as he spun the football in his hands.

“You and those damn samurais”, you chuckled and laid out your paper and stencil paper. “I thought that this time around you would like a ninja”.

“Maybe one day, on the other leg”, Raph said with a smug smile. “If this one goes right”.

“Well okay smart guy”, you laughed turning towards him. “Where on your leg do you want it”.

“I was thinking here”. Raphael laid the football on the ground before going to the outside of his right calf, measuring out from his knee to ankle.

“Do you want it to take up the whole side?”

“Of course”, Raph smiled. “It has to match”. He pointed towards the samurai on his shoulder.

“Just as black?”

“You know me baby”, he said, giving you that smug smile.

You bit back a smile, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping up your face. Damn Raphael and his smooth comments.

“Okay, I’ll do a sketch and you tell me what you think about it. If you like it, we can get tattooing”.

“Sounds like one of the best plans I’ve heard in a long time”, Raph said, still smiling like that smug fucker he is. But damn you loved that man.

As you got drawing on the sketch, Raph would walk in and out of his room, grabbing drinks and food from the kitchen, before returning. Every once in a while he would get up from his bed, just to give you a kiss on the cheek, wrap his arms around you, and look at how far you’ve gotten.

Raph loved your finished sketch, stating something along the lines of; “so far, so good”, just to annoy you.

With Raphael laying on his bed, with pants rolled up and wrapped around his knee and slightly turned to the side, you placed the stencil on the side of his muscular side calf. You had to admit, you were proud of your work so far. The artwork flowed with the curve, sway and size of Raph’s calf, showing it off.

As you started the machine and dipped the needle in the ink cup, Raphael got comfortable with his hands behind his back, still with his smug smile plastered on his face.

“Are you ready?”, you asked as you placed your other hand on his leg to spread the skin.

“Born ready”.

And with that statement from your boyfriend, you started working on the lines in his tattoo.

Raphael’s tattoo was big and detailed, which meant a lot of work. But not even 15 minutes into the tattoo, you saw Raph shifting and grimes for a split second, before pressing his eyes shut. Your tough boyfriend was breaking character.

“You okay there, Raphie?”, you asked with a sly smile, dipping the needle in the ink once more before going back in.

“Yup, I’m okay. More than okay actually”, he said, still with his eyes pressed shut.

“I hope so, because you know, the closer I get to your foot and the closer I get to your knee, the more it’ll hurt”.

“Ah fuck”.

“And that’s just the line work. I’ll have to go in afterwards and do filling and shadowing”.

“H- how long do you think all that will take?” Raph’s eyes now open, looking at you with a slight fear in his eyes.

“Well, with a tattoo this size and this detailed, easily four hours”.

“So only three more hours?”

“Raph, baby, we’ve only been going for 15 minutes”.

Raphael groaned loudly, grabbing onto the pillow behind his head. “Fuck me”.

“Later baby”, you laughed. “It won’t be a good idea while you have an open tattoo”.

Raph sighed. “(Y/N), I love you, but sometimes you’re annoying as fuck”.

“I love you too Raphie, and if it helps anything, I too find you annoying sometimes”, you smiled sweetly at him, causing Raph to bite back a smile, the same way he made you do not too long ago.

“And just so you know”, you continued while wiping ink away from Raph’s leg. “You still owe me cuddles and a foot rub afterwards' '.

Raphael exhaled loudly, face scrunching up as the needle went back over his skin. “I really didn’t think this through, did I?”

“Nope, not at all”.

Nevertheless, after four hours and many loud exclamations from Raphael that could be heard all throughout the lair, your boyfriend had gotten himself a new big tattoo. And if you had to be honest, it was pretty hot, and not just because you were the one that made it.

Donatello:

When Donatello had asked for you to tattoo him, you were kind of shocked to say the least. Your sweet, tech nerdy, genius of a boyfriend, who did not have a single tattoo on his beautiful green body, wanted you to tattoo him. You had to blink and ask him to repeat his request.

But Donatello was serious. He wanted a tattoo. He even offered to give you space in his lab, so you could set up a propper station, and that was an offer you just couldn’t refuse.

You had unpacked your station in Donnie’s lab, currently drawing the design Donnie had given you onto transfer paper, while he was taking a closer look at your tattoo machine.

“It’s very different from the one I made”, Donnie noticed, turning it in his three fingered hands. 

“How did you guys even do it back then?”, you asked, eyes still on the drawing.

“Well, I made the machine, and the guys had several designs”, he said, thinking back to the old days in the old lair with a smile. “We all got a turn tattooing Leo”.

You chuckled, finding the thought amusing. Stupid and reckless, but amusing nonetheless.

“Where did you get ink from?”

“A pen. Many pens actually”. He placed your machine on the table, before taking a seat next to you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder, looking at your hand working. “We broke open the pens and poured it into a solo cup”.

“That is really not sanitary”, you laughed, leaning your head to the side, so your temple was pressed against Donnie’s forehead.

“No, it really isn’t”, he laughed, nuzzling his face closer to yours.

“Now Donnie”, you said, nodding towards the drawing in front of you. It was a design of a turtle, somewhat like the one Leo and Mikey shared, but with its own intricate design around it. “What is the meaning behind this, and why do you want it?”

“Well, it is a turtle, so much is obvious”, Donnie said, causing you to nudge him slightly. “And well, it just felt like it was about time. I just finally want a tattoo. And me being the lucky guy that I am, have a tattoo artist as a girlfriend, so it just seemed obvious”.

“Well, that is enough reasoning for me”.

You finished the stencil and put on gloves, getting ready to prep Donnie’s skin with disinfectants.

“The shoulder is one of the easiest places”, you told him, as you smoothed the paper over his shoulder. “Many people experience that the shoulder hurts way less than any other places”.

“Did yours hurt?”, Donnie asked, nodding towards the tattoo on your shoulder. He had looked at it so many times, often wondering how you felt while getting it. It was probably one of the main reasons why he hadn’t gotten a tattoo yet; the fear of it hurting. Especially after he saw the way Mikey and Raph reacted to their tattoos back then.

“Not at all”, you said, peeling the paper back from his skin, leaving back purple lines for you to follow. “I almost fell asleep during mine. Now, take a look in the mirror and tell me what you think”.

Donnie went to the mirror and took a look at his shoulder, before turning to you with a smile.

“It looks great”, he said.

“Then sit down good sir, and let me get started on you”, you said, opening a new needle with your gloved hands.

Donnie sat down like you told him to, and watched as you got the needle ready. You turned on the machine, dipping it into the ink cup while it hummed. You placed your other hand on Donnie’s shoulder, spreading his green scaly skin.

“Remember, you can always tell me if you need a break or if you're getting uncomfortable. Keep your breathing calm and level, and it will save you from a lot of unnecessary stress. And with that in mind, are you ready?”

Donnie nodded with a small smile. “I’m ready”.

You let the needle brace Donatello’s skin, watching for any reaction by your boyfriend, showing any discomfort.

“Okay, that is not as bad as I thought it would be”, he said, turning his head slightly to look at the needle.

“It’s rarely that bad”, you told him, wiping the first line. “Trust me. I still get surprised every time I get tattooed”.

Donnie chuckled, imagining the scene of you in a tattoo shop.

As time went on, and as you were half way through the tattoo, you noticed the first signs of discomfort from your boyfriend.

“Okay, I can feel it now”, he said, grimacing slightly. “It is not bad, but it’s more. I’m not sure how else to describe it”.

“Don’t worry. We’re halfway done”, you said, dipping the needle in the ink cup. “But I will recommend that you take it easy afterwards and get a good night's sleep”.

“I will if you stay and keep me company”.

“Well, you don’t have to ask me twice”, you said, wiping the tattoo down one more time.

It didn’t take long before you finished the tattoo, smearing cream over it before wrapping it up. Donatello seemed slightly shocked by it.

“Are you done already?”, he asked, looking at his new tattoo under the plastic wrap.

“Yeah, it was not a super complicated tattoo”, you laughed, as you started to clean up after yourself. “And you’re really easy to tattoo. That only made it quicker”.

“Well in that case”, he said and stood up, before wrapping his arms around from behind. “Would you like to start that good night’s sleep a little earlier?”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do”, you said, pulling your tall boyfriend down to you for a sweet kiss.

Michelangelo:

Bless your boyfriend and his kind, sweet, beautiful, helpful heart. What he wouldn’t do for you? Nothing. He would do everything and even more if you asked for it, also if you didn’t ask for it. And that was the nature of Mikey. Showing his love for you in spontaneous and caring ways, that not even you had expected. Such as volunteering for you to practice your tattooing, after hearing you talk about how much you wanted to practice.

And that was what led up to you and Mikey sitting on your couch, talking about the best place for you to tattoo him.

“I don’t know, baby”, you said, pressing your fingers against Mikey’s upper stomach. “I’ve never tattooed a plastron before”.

“Don’t worry Angelcakes, it will be fine”, Mikey said with a bright smile. “It will just be right here”, he said, gliding his finger over the top of his stomach, to outline the placement.

“But can a needle even get through that?”, you asked, pressing a little firmer against his plastron. You knew how firm Mikey’s plastron was. You had found yourself being pressed against it so many times, that you had familiarized yourself quite well with it at this point. But the thought of poking a needle through it had never crossed your mind.

“I don’t know. Maybe? There’s truly only one way to find out”.

“But baby, what if I break your plastron instead?”

“It’ll heal. Have you already forgotten this beautiful body as mutagen running in it? I can heal in no time!”

“But”, you said in thought. “Aren’t your shell and plastron also bulletproof?”

“But Angelcakes!”, Mikey pouted. “It could be so sick with a tattoo like that! I would look so good!”

“But you already look good Mikey”, you giggled.

“I know but still”.

You sighed. It was no use trying to argue with him about it. It would take either your needle or his plastron cracking slightly before he would drop the topping, so therefore you finally agreed with your silly turtle of a boyfriend.

“Yes!” Mikey fist pumped the air before giving you a quick kiss. “I knew you couldn’t resist the thought of me with a stomach tattoo!”

You laughed, shaking your head, before going to your room to find your supplies. Mikey already had a very clear idea of what he wanted. He wanted he and his brothers’ birth year of 1999 tattooed over his plastron, in good old gothic lettering. It actually relieved you that he hadn’t chosen anything more detailed. You just wanted to practice, not rival his name sake.

It didn’t take long before you had finished the stencil and placed it on your boyfriend, before telling him to go look at it in the mirror. You couldn’t help but smile, as Mikey started posing in front of the mirror. The 1999 on his plastron, still dark purple from the stencil ink.

“Yup! I like it! Lets go!”, Mikey said, jumping back towards you with a big smile. “I’m ready!”

“You cute goofball”, you laughed, guiding him towards your couch. “Come and lay down”.

Michelangelo did as you told him, and laid down on his shell, with his hands comfortably behind his head, watching with a smile as you sat yourself down. That smile could easily make butterflies erupt in your stomach, and it did so in that very moment, right as you dipped your needle in the ink.

To your surprise, the needle glided over Mikey’s plastron easily. It was almost easier than on real skin, and closer to the fake skin you usually would practice on. You didn’t even had to spread the surface with your other hand. Mikey seemed to enjoy himself.

“Do you feel anything?”, you asked, wiping the tattoo. It stayed pretty well.

“I can feel it, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s a little strange to be honest”.

“Strange or not, I still think you're cute”.

Mikey smiled, hinting at you to come closer. You removed the needle from his plastron and leaned closer to his face, before being met by him in a sweet kiss. You giggled before returning to his plastron to continue his tattoo.

“I am the luckiest man and turtle in this world”, Mikey then said. “I have the hottest girlfriend there is, and she makes some pretty awesome tattoos. I’ll say I got the best of both worlds”.

You giggled, shaking your head one more time, feeling a blush grow on your face. What did you do to deserve this guy?

With Mikey not feeling any pain from his tattoo, and the fact that you didn’t have to spread anything or do much, it didn’t take long before Mikey’s plastron tattoo was finished. You were throwing the used needle out in the kitchen trash can, when suddenly a question popped into your head.

“How long does it take for your plastron to heal?”

“Not long”, Mikey answered, drinking casually from a Capri Sun by your side, poking slightly at the new numbers on his front. “I think it will be healed by tomorrow”.

“So you don’t need any aftercare at all?”, you asked, pulling his hand away from his tattoo.

“Depends”, he started, placing the Capri Sun on the counter, before wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his face closer to yours. “What kind of aftercare are we talking about?”

“Dork”, you laughed.

“Hey, don’t deny what we both know will happen”, he said, getting ever closer to your lips.

“When your tattoo is healed, Mikey”.

“Oh well, would you look at that”, Mikey said, pointing towards his plastron. “I’m already healing”.

After that night, Mikey would definitely be asking for more tattoos from you.

—-------------------------------------------------

I need another tattoo soon…

[queers-gambit]

CHERRY I LOVE YE SO MUCH FUCKIN’ELL !!!!! FFS THAT TOMMY THING YE WROTE IS PURE PERFECTION 😭 I mean, everything you write is perfection! How dare you bless us with such masterpieces?? 🥹💜💜💜💜💜

“The way people get angry for something I cannot dictate - it's like they're the one being vastly inconvenienced!" YES! THIS! This is exactly what I feel sometimes. And the exhaustion you get from just listening to people because you always have to actually concentrate on something other people do subconsciously. Also that one part about people giving the impression of thinking you’re just being dramatic…. YES! This hit home 🥹 Those fuckin twats don’t even know what’s it like to have a disability while also having health issues that have yer body EXHAUSTED and prone to infections because it’s so fuckin weak! Thankfully I have great and understanding friends and family members that actually care and always scold me when I’m not listening to my body. But it’s the work life that’s making it so hard sometimes.

I feel so grateful that you wrote this and I hope your own personal rant helped you blow off some steam about your situation 💜 It sure helped me (and maybe, hopefully others in a similar situation) to feel understood and having someone put into words what I feel sometimes. - beer-io kart anon 👒

me sending you every ounce of my love, sweet one. love me some YOU, love me some Tommy, love me some angst and drama - it was my pleasure to write! come back as many times as you want!

all my love 🖤

[iaintyourbro]

The Unknown Journey Continues

Part 1

I know it's been a while... but I've been going down a rabbit hole with @starlight-samurai regarding time loops, Jenova, Minerva, and more fun. So I figured I'd try to put it into one post to get the insanity out of my head. Everything in here is based on things we've found by either going through more obscure Ultimanias, learning more about Dirge of Cerberus and trying to decipher what the hell Jenova is by putting together various sources - including other Square Enix games - and how they handled freakishly similar scenarios.

Did you know there is a companion mobile game for it that was out on the good old flip phones? Did you know there was an online mode in Dirge of Cerberus only available in Japan, but had story elements that were not in the main game?

The sad part is, there's still so much to go through...

(I've also had various discussions with @ourfinalheaven, Manu, who doesn't have Tumblr, so here is her Twitter. and Somebody's Nightmare (here is her Twitter). So I wanted to tag them here, as it's much more fun to discuss these ideas as a group, since it'll only help you build on and strengthen your own ideas.)

Please be aware, there will be Spoilers for FFVII - Almost all Compilation titles, Xenogears, and NieR Automata throughout this.

So let's go on a journey where we explore what actually already exists in the compilation - including the idea of the whispers and timeloops - how Minerva may play into everything, and what exactly Jenova is capable of doing.

I asked Sesi if he'd ever played any of the NieR games, because he'd said something that made me wonder if they were going to take a similar approach. As a very, very quick high level summary: NieR Automata deals with a time loop type of idea. The androids will be rebooted and repeat the same things over and over again. This is broken when 2B is killed by A2 because she becomes infected with a virus. That being said, you have the option after Ending E to either erase all of your data and end the cycle OR you can try again. The Pods have a discussion, and one asks, "But won't they just do the same thing again?" and the other replies with "Maybe. But it could also be different this time."

Here's Sesi's message back to me when I asked him about this (cleaned up a bit since we were having a casual conversation over Discord):

Maybe I could just guess based comparatively on the Dirge storyline, because that was sort of SE's first flirtation with “robots and androids” since they’re all programmed and locked behind like task managers and shit that can shut them down. The story of the online mode for DoC that came out in Japan, we never got to see it, you’re basically an Android OC and you have to get to “the end of the level” and then essentially die, and a new one takes its place. This keeps happening until Weiss is essentially freed from being able to be task managed by the guys who are suppose to be able to control them and I know from tons of years with Square games that they’re verrrrry bad at differentiating their narratives they tend to just keep “ripping themselves off” so is it anything close to that?

Cuz if so I think I kinda know what you’re saying and yeah, I agree, I think with CC bringing in its poetic symbolism and LOVELESS, and DoC bringing back the cyclic nature of the lore, whispers, premonitions and future visions, proto-Materia and the perversion of this next cycle since the planet can no longer cleanse and protect itself and its will is weakening lesser and lesser to the point where it’s fate is “in a true sense of jeopardy This time essentially it’s all tied in together and sort of played as though it's a fated track; a cycle of events and something has hitched it, thus the whispers manifesting and Sephiroth's higher implied control over his destiny. Of course, even all that is just their new red herring game, but it’s definitely a part of the lore they want to play with, in order to go back and reMAKE the OG with the comp inserted from inception. Also gut punch a lot.

Time Loops

I was somewhat surprised to find out that this concept is NOT new to FFVII's universe. It's discussed in Dirge of Cerberus... probably one of the least played and least understood of the compilation. (Trying to sell a third person shooter with terrible controls to a market of mostly people used to turn-based combat wasn't going to go well.)

On top of it, we didn't even get all of it, since online mode was never released outside of Japan, and the Dirge of Cerberus Lost Episode was on Amp'd Mobile and Verizon flip phones back in 2006. Were you around for the cell phones in 2006? I had the ones on the list, and how somebody could play a game on those blows my mind.

Square has a tendency to reuse themes from their other titles. Probably one of the most blatant is the similarities between Xenogears and Final Fantasy VII. They were both being developed at the same time and a lot of ideas that didn't make it into FFVII ended up in Xenogears.

NieR

So how does this work? In NieR (both Replicant and Automata), you play the same path multiple times. Each time, it's slightly different depending on what side quests you did your first and second playthrough, but there's also other subtle differences throughout the story. In Automata, you get to play as 2B your first playthrough and 9S for your second. They follow the same path, but you get it from his perspective the second time and it reveals a bit more of what is going on. However, even with some slight differences, the main plot points stay the same and the ending result it also the same.

Then on your third playthrough, you wake up in the Bunker, and you're getting ready to go on a new mission. This time, though, 2B is killed and shit hits the fan. Things get crazy, you play as a new character: A2. In the end, pretty much everyone "dies", but you can choose to "reboot" and try again. You also can say you are done and let them all rest and delete your save data (the game gives you the option for both Automata and Replicant, and with Replicant, it actually leads to a new ending).

The striking thing for me is... There are certain events that will always happen, no matter what.

Fixed Points in Time

It's been years since I've watched Doctor Who, but there was something that stuck with me, and that was the fixed points in time. You can read about all of them here, but here's the basics:

Now, of course Doctor Who goes into this with much more detail and it's a recurring theme. However, as you read through that page, you'll probably find many aspects that have been used in various JRPGs that you've played. And Doctor Who most likely pulled some of the idea from classic Science Fiction novels. Each story puts its own spin on it.

How does this relate to FFVII Remake? Well, when they say that the major plot points will stay the same, it reminds me of this. No matter what, Cloud must fall into the Sector 5 Church, the Sector 7 Plate must be dropped, Aerith and Zack both must die, and Meteor has to be summoned, to name a few. So, with a time loop, those things would still have to take place in order to prevent a complete collapse of reality (at least in how Doctor Who uses it).

Therefore, the Whispers are ensuring that the Will of the Planet is followed.

One of the major themes in FFVII is that of loss. People die and they do not come back. Yes, other FF games do allow this to happen (FFX, FFXIII, FFXV), but VII is not those games. It was written with that idea in mind, that once a person dies, they, just like in real life, are dead and cannot be brought back.

I've previously written that I think they'll make us believe we are able to change fate, but we will eventually be slammed with the reality that we can't. That is because the planet has determined that certain events are fixed points.

Xenogears

Xenogears takes a bit of a different approach to the loop idea. Instead of repeating the same time period over and over, it has the characters reincarnated, and the same outcome happens each time: Elly dies. However, each time it's different. After all, they're in various time periods, in some cases thousands of years apart.

In all of the lives of Fei (who will have a different name in each time period) and Elly (who is always Elly/Elhaym), Elly will end up dying trying to protect Fei and the others. In one life, she is a religious figure at a totally not Catholic church, in another she's the wife of a scientist who was working to create children from nanomachines due to mass infertility issues. But she is ALWAYS with Fei, even if his name changes.

In her Mother Elhaym time, this is when Lacan (Fei) finally snaps. Though he's not fully aware of his past lives, he becomes aware, the anger consumes him, and he becomes Grahf. Fei is then reborn into the time period you play the game in.

There's a lot to unpack with this, so I won't go into it. Grahf wants to destroy God (Deus) because he thinks if he does, then it'll stop the suffering (his suffering).

If you do want to read more about Grahf, you can do so here, but it probably won't make much sense unless you've played Xenogears up to that point... Since it's much later in the game that this is all explained.

Lacan's desire was to stop the cycle of Elly always sacrificing herself for his sake. Though Grahf is not a perfect existence - he's not fully "The Contact", he sacrifices himself in order to let Fei move forward, and hopefully stop the cycle, by destroying the Deus system. (Elly also tries to sacrifice herself here, but Fei goes after her and stops her.)

Now, some people may think I'm saying that Cloud or somebody is going to do this in order to save Aerith or Zack (or his village or mom), but in FFVII if they do the loop method, I don't think Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and the others are aware of it. Most likely, it's only 'Sephiroth' and Aerith who are aware of it.

How this Could Be used for Final Fantasy VII

I'm stressing could because there's so many different possibilities on how they use this (if they are using this), so please, don't take this as fact. This is based on speculation based on what we know.

A time loop is a great way to explain away the differences in the story that we've seen: Biggs being alive, Wedge living for longer than he should have, etc. Since these are not major plot changes, they can simply say that this time it'll be slightly different... but your fixed points (major plot points) will remain the same.

It's a way to pull in some of the more obscure themes from Dirge of Cerberus and also play with the LOVELESS lore.

It could all simply be a big red herring and it's really just a remake of OG, but with the compilation tied together nicely... since it works much better when it's combined and not in 50 different games, books, movies, etc.

I don't think it's a "sequel" per say, not in the way I generally perceive a sequel. It's more of a loop of the same thing. The question is, when is the loop started and what will cause it to end? When will the planet (if it even is the planet) determine that it's good enough to begin moving forward?

JENOVA, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Minerva - Oh My!

Let's be real... Genesis isn't exactly the most popular character in the FFVII Compilation... but what if they make him one of the most important to the story? //Ducks as various fruits and vegetable are thrown in my direction//

I think what Genesis is probably most known for is his love of LOVELESS. He has the entire thing memorized and randomly says lines from it throughout Crisis Core. LOVELESS lore is still something I'm trying to grasp, so I am not going to comment much on it. Once I understand it more, I'll update this.

...And then this happens. The secret ending for Dirge of Cerberus, where Genesis picks up Weiss. Weiss, who has now been introduced along with Nero in FFVII INTERmission and is an optional ridiculously hard boss in the Shinra battle simulator in chapter 17 of the main story. There is some lore associated with the battle sim - so if you don't plan on beating it or you just can't, you can look up the pre-battle and post-battle cut scenes on YouTube. They're very short, but interesting. (I beat this asshole last night - it's a hell of a fight.)

....To Be Continued because apparently Tumblr won't allow more than 10 images per post now.... Next will be more on JENOVA and Sephiroth along with Minerva.

[comfy-whumpee]

TGIF

Weekends weren’t meant to be work days, but it wasn’t really work, was it?

 Cat didn’t have to know.

 “Thank God it’s Friday!” she sang, way too loud for the small space, and the guy jerked awake, fresh blood catching the light as his head snapped back and his mouth curled into a snarl. She grinned at him.

“Fuck off!” he snapped at her once he found his voice. “Fuck off with this shit, fuck you, let me go!”

 “Neeee-yope,” she said, smiling wider as disgust crossed his expression. She pulled brass knuckles from her overalls front pocket and slid them on.

 He finally noticed what she was doing, and he swore again. “Get your fucking hands off me, don’t fucking touch me.”

 “Brad, Brad, chill out. I’m gonna do whatever the fuck I want to you, okay?”

 “You can’t just – what the hell are you talking about?”

 She punched him. His face cracked under the metal around her fingers and he choked out in pain.

 “One!” she laughed. “What was it, fourteen – fourteen weeks, you held him captive? D’you think fourteen hits?”

 He spat, took a breath. Her hand slammed into his jaw. Something else gave. “Two!”

 Again he tried to speak. Probably to say something else disgusting. He choked on blood, and spat again, and a white bullet pinged against the floor amongst the red.

 She backhanded him for the third, enjoying the snap of her arm and the way his head flew sideways before he swung back on the chains, groaning breathlessly at the pull on his strung-up shoulders. She didn’t knock another tooth loose this time.

 “Three.”

 Each hit slams the metal into his face – and she aims, always, at the face. The jagged little edges she scratched into them cut deeply into him.

 “We’re doin’ it the old-fashioned way,” she sings, beaming as he stops trying to talk and starts trying only to breathe. “Four!”

 People like him thought they could get away with anything. Thought they could pick up some guy they didn’t know and just go to town. They hadn’t learned, like Lindsey had, that the real strategy was to pick your targets.

 “Five!”

 She wouldn’t have cared, really, but he shouldn’t have tried to move in on her turf. She owned that chatroom. It was her baby. He could come in with his shitty dumb questions about blades if he wanted, but the second he dropped his little hints about using them on people, she’d figured out his game.

 “Six!”

 She’d persuaded Cat to track him down. Catfished him, gotten enough details to dig up his real identity, and turned it around on him. All she’d had to do was promise she wasn’t gonna keep him. And she wasn’t!

 “Seven.”

 It was just a visit. She’d take the chain back when she was done. She’d leave him alive, probably. He’d think twice before slithering into someone else’s space again and trying to turn normal knife lovers into accessories to his crimes.

 “Eight. Oh, that hurt, didn’t it?”

 His face was a pulp. Bruised, bleeding, swelling across his cheeks, he was a mess.

 Okay, so maybe the knuckledusters hadn’t been a good idea, but it was fun. He did have some distinctive marks that would hopefully scar. But who was she kidding? She was a knife girl through and through.

 She pulled up his shirt and began to carve.

 “Nine. We’re gonna do five of these, alright? Chest, back, shoulders, forehead.”

 “Ff,” he tried, “ff-hk. Forehead?”

 “Yeah!” She was already finishing off the first. “Look, I know you’re trying to keep your little hobby quiet, but if you like torturin’ folks, let them know. People should let their colours fly, right? Don’t hide who you are and all that?”

 He was still glaring at her. The knife drove through the skin of his shoulder, blood waterfalling off it. She was cutting deep. Number nine knife, long as her hand, a ceramic blade tapering to a razor point. She went all the way down.

 “No more words, eh?”

 Second shoulder. He huffed ragged breaths.

 She pushed his head forwards to do his back, as big as she could fit. She made no effort to be gentle.

 “My wife would be so pissed if she knew I was doing this.”

 The wound glistened, huge and lurid. She giggled as she prodded it with the hilt of the knife and he almost screamed. Every time he inhaled his ribcage expanded and the cracks widened briefly. Cat would spray that with something, make sure it got infected, so it would really scar.

 Last one, last one. She didn’t have it in her to stroke his hair back, smile at him, say something cutesy as she hurt him. She fisted his hair, grinned sharply, and pressed the knife’s tip against his skull.

 “When this is all healed up it’ll look so deliberate,” she tells him, as she draws the pale blade through his equally pale skin. “Hella fucked up, but deliberate.”

 There was almost a whimper in his throat as she turned the angle.

 “I’d tell you to stay away from people, but I think they’ll all stay away from you, won’t they?”

 There’s no anger left. His tough-guy act is all gone. She finishes carving the last word, slaps him hard enough to make him dazed, and unravels the chains.

 “But stay out of my circles, okay?”

  He falls to the floor like a sack of trash, and she leaves him there, sobbing into a pool of his own blood.

[lastbluetardis]

Family of Six (3/14)

After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU.

This chapter: all ages, 4500 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 33, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 5, Twins: 9 days

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

Chapters will be posted every other week — next update: August 6th

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14

The second week home with the babies did not go nearly as smoothly as the first—this was primarily due to the fact that all four children got sick. Exactly one week after James and Rose brought the twins home, they received a call from Sianin’s school in the early afternoon, asking them to come pick her up. When James arrived at the school’s infirmary, he found his daughter lying lethargically on a cot, her face pale except for the pink spots on her cheeks.

“Hiya, darling,” he whispered, crouching beside her. He smoothed her hair away from her face, letting the backs of his fingers linger at her forehead. She was burning up. “I hear you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m really sleepy,” Sianin mumbled, barely keeping her eyes open.

“I know. I’m gonna take you home and get you in to bed,” he said.

He planted a kiss to a rosy cheek, then stood. After signing a form, he walked back to his child and lifted her into his arms. She tucked her face into his chest and was nearly asleep by the time James deposited her into her car seat. She was completely out when they arrived home.

Rose greeted him when he walked through the front door with their daughter.

“How is she?” she asked, pressing her fingertips all across Sianin’s face.

“Very fatigued,” he answered. “I’m gonna go put her down.”

“You don’t think it’s the flu, do you?” Rose asked, her forehead crinkling with concern. “She had the shot for it. And it’s the end of flu season.”

“I don’t know, Rose,” he sighed.

“Daddy?” Sianin blinked blearily up at them.

“We’re home,” he announced. “I was just about to get you into bed.”

“Will you lay with me?” she asked, nuzzling her hot face into his neck.

“Sure thing,” he answered.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Rose asked.

“My head hurts,” Sianin replied, turning her head to peek at her mother. “And my cheeks hurt.”

Rose gently pressed down on Sianin’s sinuses. “Here?”

Sianin nodded, then sniffed. “My nose is getting stuffy.”

“I’ll give you some medicine to help unstuff it,” James promised.

He then moved down the hall and crawled into his and Rose’s bed with Sianin, and stayed there until it was time to pick Ainsley up from school.

By that night, Sianin had a full-blown fever and completely clogged nostrils. Her fever stabilized then broke by the next morning, but the rest of her symptoms remained the same. James and Rose concluded it was nothing more than a bad cold and sinus infection; nevertheless, they continued to monitor her closely.

Unfortunately, she’d managed to infect her older sister. Ainsley awoke with a sore throat, clogged nose, and the beginnings of a fever, prompting them to keep her home as well. The day didn’t get any better when the twins began showing signs of illness, too. They were both being fussy, but when their normally-quiet breathing morphed to raspy pants, James and Rose knew that their youngest children had succumbed to whenever infection Sianin and Ainsley had.

If they thought it was difficult watching their elder children struggle with a severe cold, it was nothing compared to the agony of watching their newborns struggle with one. James lived in a perpetual state of anxiety, worrying whether or not his babies could breathe okay or if their temperature was too high. He and Rose were glued to the internet, Googling their babies’ symptoms; they also placed several calls to their pediatrician to ensure everything was okay and were ready to take them to the hospital at a moment’s notice.

James barely slept, and he knew Rose wasn’t faring any better. They awoke at the slightest cough, sneeze, or hitch in their babies’ breath. They’d adjusted the bassinets to be at a slight incline to hopefully help their sinuses drain.

But their draining sinuses upset their fragile little bellies, and more than once, James and Rose found themselves cleaning up a new puddle of baby vomit.

“Da-aaad,” Ainsley called from the living room one morning. “Hannah and Maddie puked all over themselves.”

James took the pan of frying eggs off the burner, then walked into the living room. Both babies were, indeed, lying in a puddle of their own sick. They were on their stomachs, so there was no fear of them choking, but he picked them up and wiped their mouths, just to be certain.

“I’m gonna go finish the eggs real quick, then I’ll come and clean them up,” James said, setting the babies down on a clean patch of blanket.

“Want me to change them?” Ainsley asked.

“No, no, I’ll do it,” James said. “Besides, your breakfast is nearly done.”

“Mum lets me help,” she grumbled.

James bit back a sigh. “All right. Get them naked. But if at any moment, you think something’s wrong or if you’re having trouble getting their clothes off, give me a shout. Promise me, Ainsley.”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise,” she said. 

James went into the kitchen to finish breakfast, half-focusing on the eggs, half-listening for a shout from Ainsley, and half-asleep from the all-nighter he and Rose had pulled. He made quick work of scrambling the eggs and putting bread in the toaster, then he went to the fridge and poured a glass of orange juice for Ainsley and Sianin.

As though he’d summoned them, Ainsley and Sianin trotted into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

“Did Mum give you your meds this morning?” he asked.

They shook their heads, and he went to the cabinet. He paused, then asked, “Er… did I?”

That earned him a giggle from both daughters, and again, they shook their heads. He nodded and pulled the liquid cold medicine down from the top shelf. He poured out their dosages and stood guard as they swallowed it down with a grimace.

“Are Maddie and Hannah nice and naked?” he asked.

“Yep,” Ainsley answered.

“I got them new outfits to wear,” Sianin interjected.

“Thank you for your big help,” he praised.

He then plated their eggs and toast before going to the living room. Both babies were in only their nappies, a bit of residual vomit streaked across their necks and chins. He talked to them quietly as he cleaned them up and got them tucked away in their new onesies. He then balled up the vomited-on blanket and took it to the laundry room, putting it and a few towels into the washer.

When he returned to the living room, both babies were staring alertly up at the ceiling. He bent down to pick up one of his daughters. “Right. Now my sweet little…” James’s body went numb as he looked down at the baby in his arms. Hannah? Or Maddie? Shit. “Hey, Ains… Can you come here for a sec?”

He heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, then Ainsley appeared in the living room.

“Yeah?”

“Where were Hannah and Maddie when you stripped them?”

“Um. I think Hannah was to the left and Maddie to the right,” Ainsley said, cocking her head to the side.

“You think, or you know?” he snapped, his voice coming out harsher than he intended it in his building panic. He didn’t remember where the baby in his arms had been lying, so even if Ainsley was remembering correctly, that wasn’t helpful for him.

Ainsley’s face fell at his tone.

“I don’t remember,” she said quietly, dropping her gaze to her feet.

James caught himself before he could say something else. This wasn’t Ainsley’s fault.

He set the baby down on the floor next to her twin, then crouched in front of Ainsley.

“It’s okay,” he said. He cradled her cheeks in his hands and made her look at him. “I’m very sorry for getting short with you. I’m really tired is all, but that’s not an excuse. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I’m sorry.”

Ainsley nodded, then asked, “How are we going to figure out who’s who?”

James shrugged. “I’ll figure something out. I am rather clever after all. Go back to your breakfast.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then ushered her to the kitchen. He turned to his two newborns and sank to his bum as he looked between the babies. His eyes traced their chubby pink cheeks and wispy brown hair and murky blue eyes, straining to find a difference or hoping for a spark of recognition.

“All right, my darlings,” he said, absently bouncing their little feet with his fingertips. “You’re only eleven days old. How detrimental could it possibly be if I accidentally mislabel you? Of course, the best case scenario is that you’re not identical—which, at the moment, I would be shocked if you’re not—and we can go to the doctor and have them run another DNA test to let us know who is who. They should have your DNA on file somewhere, right?

“Other best case scenario: I pick correctly, and you continue your wonderful little lives as Hannah Brianne and Madeline Emily Tyler-McCrimmon.

“But honestly, the worst case scenario is that you still continue your wonderful little lives as Hannah Brianne and Madeline Emily Tyler-McCrimmon without ever knowing you were anything but who you are. Seriously. You’ll never know that you were, for eleven days, called by the opposite name. What could be the harm? I’ll make up something to tell Ainsley, and we’ll keep it a secret from Mummy. No harm, no foul, eh?”

“What are we keeping a secret from Mummy?”

James squeaked and snapped his head towards the sound of his wife’s voice. Rose was leaning against the wall at the entrance of the living room.

“Er… I don’t suppose you could pretend like you didn’t hear that sentence?” James asked sheepishly.

“Nope,” she replied, popping the ‘p’. “Come on. Spill. What secret are you and our twins colluding about to keep from me?”

James sighed and returned his attention to the twins. One of them was sucking on her fingers, while the other had snot running down her cheek. He picked up the snotty one and swiped her face with a tissue, much to her annoyance. She let out a loud, squawking wail. After a moment of cuddles and kisses, she calmed down, and James set her on the blanket.

“What’s the matter, love?” Rose asked, sitting on the floor next to him.

“Oh, not much. Just that I’m an awful father,” he lamented.

Rose frowned. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”

“Oh, you will when you’ve heard what I’ve done,” he said. He steeled himself for her reaction before he admitted, “I don’t know which twin is which.”

There was a beat of silence before Rose broke into a round of giggles.

“I’m serious, Rose!” he said, upset that she was amused by his anxiety. “I don’t know who is who!”

The hysteria in his voice sobered her. She reached out and hugged his arm, then she touched the baby nearest to her. “Maddie.” She pointed to the one closer to him. “Hannah.”

“How the hell did you know that?” he demanded, feeling both relieved and miffed at the same time.

Rose shrugged. “I just… do. And you do too.”

“I clearly bloody well don’t,” he snapped.

“James, you’re sleep deprived and got stuck in your own head,” she said soothingly, massaging her fingers through his hair for emphasis. “I have no doubt that if you would’ve calmed down a little bit, you eventually would’ve gotten them right.” She pecked a kiss to his cheek then whispered, “And you know what… they’re eleven days old. I don’t think it would have mattered if we accidentally fucked it up and switched them.”

James breathed out a chuckle through his nose, then rested his head on top of hers. “That was the secret we were going to keep from you. I was going to pick randomly which baby had which name and I’d resolved to never ever mention that maybe I’d gotten it wrong.”

Rose’s resulting laughter was interrupted by the phone ringing in the kitchen.

“Mum, Dad, phone!” Ainsley called unnecessarily.

“Yep, we hear it, love,” Rose said, pushing herself to her feet. She turned back to James and helped him up too. “You all right?”

James nodded and looked down at the babies. Now that Rose had pointed it out, of course—of course—the baby on the left was Hannah and the one on the right was Maddie. It seemed so obvious now. And yet…

“I feel like a rubbish dad for getting my own children confused with each other,” he said, watching more snot roll down Hannah’s upper lip and cheek.

“You’re not,” Rose assured him. “I promise.”

She lifted onto her toes and brushed a kiss to his stubbled jaw before going into the kitchen to take the phone call. James, meanwhile, bent down and picked Hannah up. He rubbed yet another tissue across her poor nose, which was beginning to chap and turn red from all the abuse it had been suffering over the last few days.

She squealed and arched her head away from his touch as best as her limp little body could.

“Daddy’s just helping,” he soothed. He cursed when his tissue-covered thumb snagged on a huge wad of crusted mucus, ripping it out of her nose. She screamed and began heaving great big sobs. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry. Daddy’s so, so sorry.”

He kept repeating his apology into her ear as he cradled her close, bouncing as he walked around the living room. When she still hadn’t quieted five minutes later, Rose stepped up to him and held out her arms.

“She might be hungry,” she said. “She probably puked everything up.”

James nodded and jutted his chin to the living room. Once Rose sat down on the couch and unzipped her cardigan, he handed the baby to her. It took a few tries, but Hannah finally latched on and suckled lazily.

“Who was on the phone?” James asked, going over to where Maddie was half-asleep. She made a few noises when he picked her up, but she quieted almost instantly. He sat down beside Rose and watched the rhythmic motions of Hannah’s jaw as she nursed.

“Elizabeth,” Rose replied. “Serendipitously, the DNA results came in. Hannah and Maddie are indeed identical twins.”

“No shit,” he grumbled to Rose’s amusement.

Rose knocked her knee into his, then reclined against him.

“Are you feeling all right?” he asked. “We’re surrounded by four snotty, feverish kids. It’s only a matter of time ‘til we get infected.”

“I’m okay, I think,” she said. “Though I am utterly exhausted—part of me wishes Ainsley and Sianin could go to school so I could nap more easily.”

“They’ll probably sleep for most of the day,” he said, hoping that were true.

Rose hummed noncommittally. Then she said, “Oh, crap. The girls and I are supposed to have a hair appointment tomorrow. But I dunno if I want to take them out anywhere when they’re ill.”

“Gimme your phone, I’ll cancel it,” he said. “Want me to reschedule for next weekend? No, wait, that’s Sianin’s birthday. Er… the following weekend then? Unless you want a mid-week evening appointment?”

“I promised Sianin we’d make it a girls’ day out,” Rose answered, digging her phone out of her pocket. “Better try for the weekend after next. Thanks, love.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, making a kissy face at her before he called Rose’s preferred hairdresser and moved the appointment.

The entire family spent the day napping and generally lazing about the house. Ainsley and Sianin had no energy and the twins were uncomfortable and fussy. The sounds of their near-constant whimpering and wailing drove Sianin to tears—“They’re so loud and I’m so tired!”—so James and Rose traded off spending time with their sick babies in the living room and their sick bigger babies in their bedroom.

James made a mental note to strip his and Rose’s sheets that weekend as he lay with Ainsley and Sianin, each of them coughing and sneezing all over him and the bed. (He tried to ignore the tickle in the back of his throat… it was just early allergies, is all.) Ainsley’s and Sianin’s hot cheeks were pressed to his chest as they cuddled into his side, and he wrapped his arms around them, hugging them tight and wishing he could magic their illnesses away. 

He joined his children in a nap that did wonders for his sleep-deprivation headache. When he awoke, he saw he’d been sleeping for over three hours.

Bugger, he thought to himself, especially when he realized Ainsley and Sianin were no longer beside him. He rubbed his fingertips across his sleep-crusted eyes and stumbled into the living room, where blissful silence greeted him.

Ainsley and Sianin were snuggled up together on the couch, a blanket strewn across them. Rose sat in the rocking reclining chair, the twins curled to her chest. Her eyes were glazed and she looked like she was about to nod off.

Rose glanced over at him as he approached and gave him a weary smile.

“Feel better?” she asked, tilting her face up to accept his swift peck.

“Loads,” he replied. “You could have woken me sooner. I feel bad I left you alone for so long.”

“We were fine,” she said, then she looked down at the twins. “Weren’t we, girls? Haven’t you been so good for Mummy this afternoon?”

He brushed the backs of his fingers across both babies’ foreheads. They didn’t seem as hot anymore, but their little chests were still rapidly rising and falling as they strained to breathe.

“I hate this,” he murmured.

He didn’t remember ever having this much concern for his sick children before. Then again, he couldn’t remember one of his children getting sick this young. They weren’t even two weeks old yet; their immune system was still pathetically fragile, and with every cough and sneeze and cry of their delicate bodies, his heart broke.

“I know, love,” Rose said.

“Do you need a break?” he asked. “Want to go lie down?”

“Would you mind?” she asked.

“Yep, I definitely mind you getting a bit of rest after I took a three-hour nap in the sanctuary of our bedroom.”

“Smartarse,” she said fondly.

“Give me a minute to wee and get a snack,” he said.

When he returned, he took the twins from Rose and shooed her off down the hallway.

Finally by the weekend, the prognosis wasn’t as bleak. Sianin and Ainsley were more or less better, minus some lingering sniffles and exhaustion. The twins’ breathing had also returned to normal, and now they were just snotting all over themselves as their sinuses continued to drain.

After an exhausting morning of cleaning up yet another vomiting spell by the twins, James settled with both babies on the couch while Rose, Sianin, and Ainsley played the kids’ edition of Monopoly. 

“Can we watch a film?” Ainsley asked when the game was over.

“Sure,” James mumbled, half-asleep. “Pick something out.”

“Daddy, I wanna cuddle,” Sianin announced.

“Daddy’s cuddling with the babies,” Rose said. 

“No, no,” James said, slowly wriggling himself to the center cushion. “I don’t have any arms, but if you don’t mind being the point person with snuggling…”

He let the sentence dangle, and Sianin’s face lit up. She clambered onto the couch and pressed herself into James’s side, wrapping her arms around his middle as far as they could go without squishing a baby.

A moment later, Ainsley came to his other side and lay down with her cheek pillowed on his thighs.

“Everyone comfy?” he asked as Rose draped blankets around both eldest children.

“Mhm.”

Ainsley was already half-asleep, but Sianin was flipping through Netflix for something to watch. She eventually settled on an animated film they’d seen dozens of times. He could probably quote it in his sleep. At least he could use this time to rest and not think about anything.

He was proud of himself that he managed to make it twenty minutes into the movie before he felt himself begin to doze off. Rather than fight it, he secured his grip on the twins and let his head fall back. After days of caring for four sick children, James’s exhaustion caught up with him. His mind went utterly, blissfully blank as he joined his daughters in a late morning nap.

He was groggy and disoriented when he awoke some time later, but the moment he realized the warm weight of two babies was gone from his arms, he jolted upright. Before his panic could choke him, he saw both babies facing him from the safety of their cots.

“Thank God,” he muttered, having had visions of Hannah and Maddie on the floor, face-down, with their necks cocked at awkward angles.

Ainsley and Sianin were still tucked beside him, but now that his arms weren’t full of the twins, they’d more completely wrapped themselves around him. Sianin was half-straddling his lap, her head tucked in the crook of his neck and a knee hovering precariously over his groin. That was the first thing he shifted away from him, not only to save his bits from being squashed, but also because he was in desperate need of the loo and her leg pressed into his lower abdomen uncomfortably.

Sianin stirred when he scooted her to the side.

“Hey, darling,” he whispered as she blinked up at him in confusion. “You can keep sleeping, but Daddy needs to get up.”

She grunted unintelligibly and rolled away from him, resting her head on the armrest.

Ainsley’s cheek was pillowed on his thigh, and she’d reached up and was hugging his knees. He unwrapped her arm from his legs, then slowly shuffled out from under her head. He guided it onto the couch cushion, folding up a blanket to support her neck. She sighed and hugged her blanket around her shoulders, tucking her face into the soft fabric.

Despite his screaming bladder, James leaned down and pressed a kiss apiece to Ainsley’s temple, then Sianin’s, overwhelmed by how much he loved his kids.

Once he’d relieved himself, he moved to the kitchen for something to nibble and found Rose sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop and camera. She was bowed over a steaming mug, a tissue mangled in her hands.

“Rose?” he asked, setting his hands on her shoulders.

She started and glanced up at him. Her eyes were red and puffy. His heart fell.

“What’s wrong, love?” He pulled up a chair beside her and sank into it as he reached out and rested his hand on her thigh.

“Nothing,” she croaked, a trembling smile crossing her lips. “Postpartum hormones, y’know.”

He frowned. 

“Honestly,” she insisted. Then she turned away from him and pressed a few buttons on her computer. “Look at this.”

She pivoted the laptop towards him, and his breath caught in his throat. Rose must have photographed him with the girls as they napped on him. She’d forever frozen this moment in time, the stillness of having four of his favorite humans in his arms or pressed up next to him, all of them sleeping peacefully.

His throat tightened; he wanted to live forever in this photo.

“When we were trying to get pregnant, my mind would always show me visions of you holding all of our kids,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “I wanted that so badly.”

“Me too,” he croaked, remembering back to that desperate yearning that had overtaken his entire body.

“But those pictures my mind conjured up were so weak compared to the real thing,” Rose continued.

“Well, probably because you imagined only three kids,” he drawled, earning him a pinch on the side. Sobering, he admitted, “I thought I knew how this would feel. I thought I knew how utterly in love I would be. But God, this is so intense. Don’t get me wrong—I was overwhelmed when Ainsley and Sianin were born. But somehow the birth of Hannah and Maddie has exponentially increased how much I love them, too. And you, Rose.”

“I’m so happy, James,” she said, covering his hand with hers. “I’m so happy.”

She looked it, too. Despite the difficulties of these past few days and the exhaustion that painted dark smudges beneath her eyes, she hadn’t lost the radiance of joy that becoming a mum again had given to her.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and scooted his chair as close to hers as he could. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him.

“I saw those visions too,” he murmured. “When we were trying… I saw you pregnant, and nursing, and helping Ainsley and Sianin hold our baby, and crouching beside a wobbly toddler who was trying to learn to walk. I saw it all.” He let out a shuddering breath, acknowledging the heartbreak he and Rose had gone through, but then replacing it with the happiness now coursing through his veins. “It was all worth it though, yeah? If we could do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Me too,” she replied. “Though I do regret the pain we both went through and caused each other. Truly. If there was one thing I could redo, it’d be that. But Hannah and Maddie are so worth it. And I think we’re better for it, y’know? We’re stronger. Our love is stronger. I thought our communication had been great before, but now…” She let out a huge breath. “Now it’s incredible, James. We’re incredible.”

“We are, aren’t we?” he preened. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and pressed a series of kisses to it. “I’m so in love with you, Rose. I’m glad you’re my soulmate, my wife, and the mother of my kids.”

She gave him a tight squeeze but said nothing.

“What other photos did you take?” James asked, hovering his fingers over the laptop. “May I?”

Rose nodded. “‘Course.”

He pressed down on the arrow keypad and browsed the pictures Rose had imported.

“We really do make beautiful babies together,” James said, his chest puffing out as he gazed at his daughters’ faces.

“It helps that half their gene pool is from the most attractive man in the world,” Rose said, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

James blew out a breath. “Pfft. You’re the most attractive woman in the world, so that means both halves of their gene pool were comprised of the two most attractive people in the world. It was destiny it was, for them to be the most beautiful children in the world.”

Rose laughed, and James’s heart throbbed. He loved his family. He loved them more than he could possibly describe. He loved them more than his own life, a thousand times over.

“Maybe we’re a tad biased,” Rose said, a grin still splitting her face.

“Nah,” James said flippantly. “No parents are ever biased when it comes to their own kids.”

“Right,” Rose drawled.

He giggled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head and continued browsing the photographs on Rose’s computer. 

They sat together in the kitchen, basking in the silence of the house that they knew wouldn’t last, content to simply hold each other in a rare moment of stillness.

If you’ve made it to the end, consider leaving a comment or reblogging? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

[lassluna]

Let the Stars Remind You (4/?)

“It’s ok Papa, you don’t have to worry. We can trust her, she’s just like me,” She says holding his hand. “She can hear the stars. She’s just like me.” she repeats, a look of wonder on her face, pure belief in what she’s saying. Killian looks down at her. His little girl, his Starfish, and isn’t sure. He still isn’t sure if rescuing Emma Swan is the best thing he’s ever done, or their undoing.

AN: I've literally been trying to post this all day, but between real life, and internet it's been a struggle. The next chapter is practically done, so hopefully that should be up relatively soon.

FF Ao3

“Your leg looks better.” He says casually, her leg across his lap, bandage removed. The wound is still red and messy, but he can see clear sign of healing.

“No infection, which is a miracle.” He continues. It really is lucky since he wasn’t exactly supplied with antibiotics in his first aid kit. Emma shrugs, arms crossed and turned slightly away from him.

“Must be the salt water.” She reasons. From what Killian can tell, it’ll definitely need more time before she can put much weight on it without pain, but it definitely looks better than he expected, it had only been about two days since Emma had gotten the injury.  She pulls her leg away, grabbing the bandages off the table and making a clear indication that she does not require his help with the next part.

“Must be.” He agrees. He’s trying to catch a glance from her, a look, anything. He wants anything to indicate to him what the hell last night meant. It’s not unusual for him to be confused by Emma Swan, but for once he wants to figure out exactly what this is between them. Killian wants to understand exactly what’s been drawing him towards her so strongly.

(He wants to know if she feels it to.)

However, this time it appears that she is the one trying to avoid him, or at least as well as one can being forced to share a home as small as his.

It makes him wonder if he read the situation earlier all wrong. Perhaps he made her uncomfortable, thinking she wanted something when that wasn’t her intention. He hopes he didn’t ruin everything.

He gets up from his seat on the couch rather quickly. If she hadn’t wanted their almost kiss to occur, then Killian thinks it’s best to just get out of her space as quickly as possible.

But he also can’t help but remember the way she said his name, the way she’d moved closer too.

He imagined it; only possible explanation.

“Water’s ready.” Alice calls out. Killian almost forgot about dinner. He’d set the water to boil hoping to make something quick and easy with the second to last jar of sauce he had. He uses the task to settle his confusion, to focus his unsettled mind. Killian feels like a bloody teenager again, trying to figure out if the girl likes him.

Liam would be teasing him relentlessly if he was here. He’d be saying his typical, “A man who doesn’t fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets” nonsense.

“Papa, water’s overflowing.” Alice says calmly, watching as Killian stares off into space once more. She’s right of course; the bubbling water starts to overflow out of the top of the pot. He removes the top, letting the steam release.

He’s going to burn the bloody lighthouse down if he doesn’t get Emma Swan out of his bloody head.

“Need some help?” Emma asks.

“No.” He says quickly. “Just- stay off that leg, dinner will be ready shortly.” He doesn’t need more distractions right about now.

“Are you ok Papa?” Alice asks just as he finishes; bowls of pasta are placed at the table “You seem distracted.”

He smiles at his insightful daughter, ruffling her blonde curls.

“Just thinking Alice.” He assures her. “I’m going to go help Emma and then we can eat.”

Alice looks unconvinced.

“I’m fine.” Emma says when he does go to help her. She half limps half jumps towards the kitchen table. He lets her, just remaining at her side in case she does need assistance. “I don’t need help.” She nearly snaps, finally arriving at her destination.

He sighs in irritation. He really messed something up.

“Are you two fighting again?” Alice asks.

Both their heads snap towards her. Emma shakes her head as he answers. “No Al, it’s nothing” He says. “Let’s just eat dinner already.”

Alice rolls her eyes, huffing as she sits. “You can tell me Papa, I’m not a child.”

He snickers, nearly seven years old and already grown up. Killian can’t imagine what he will do when she reaches her teenage years.

He won’t have to worry about her running off with some boy if they’re still here hiding in the woods…

              “You’re always going to be my little Starfish Alice.” He assures her. She huffs again, turning away from him, eating her food in silence.

Now Alice is ignoring him. He’s doing absolutely splendid in the female department today.

//

              The dishes are put away in record time, and in complete silence.

              It’s unnerving if he was being honest, his little chatter bug usually can’t do the silent treatment for more than a couple of minutes. But that’s usually when it’s just him.

              Today she has Emma to talk to and the return of the Stars. What does she need her mean Papa for then? Right now she was getting a new game from her closet for her and Emma to play until bedtime.

              Killian knows he’s being silly, but parenting is hard.

It was moments like these that Killian wished Eloise wasn’t a total monster. He’d like to ask someone else what they thought about things right about now. He’d like a co-parent to do this with, a woman to teach Alice how to grow up a confident independent woman, understand her in all the ways he can’t. Killian tries his best, tries to make her happy and self-reliant, let her do things for herself, but always trying to be there for her no matter what.

He’s probably doing it all wrong.

“Are you ok?” Emma asks, breaking him through his thoughts. “You’ve been scrubbing that bowl so hard I think you’re going to break it.” She explains. Killian looks down at the item; he’d completely forgotten it was even there.

“I thought you were ignoring me.” He mutters under his breath, he tries not to sound bitter but he fails miserably. He rinses the bowl. He’s honestly surprised that Emma broke before Alice.

“I thought I’d give you a break,” She says casually. “Since you’re thinking so loudly, come on tell me what’s up.”

He dries the bowl. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.” He replies automatically. Emma raises a brow, reading him instantly. “I don’t want to get into it right now, maybe after you finish playing chutes and ladders with Alice.” He says. “I’ll try to think quieter thoughts.”

He really just hopes she’ll forget about it.

Killian glances upstairs, and doesn’t see Alice peeking back, nor hear her feet pounding against the floorboards. He knows Alice is ignoring him, but his daughter is quiet, too quiet. It concerns him.

“Killian…” Emma says trailing off.

“Hold on, I should check on her.” He says, moving towards the stairs.

“Killian, I’m really just trying to help.” He shakes his head. He’s not avoiding the conversation, not this time. He’s getting a bad feeling in his gut and it’s only growing by the second. He can usually see a bit of her room from this position. He doesn’t see his daughter.

“Alice!” He calls. Nothing, not a peep, not a single sound indicating she heard him. And he knew for a fact she could hear him. He slowly goes up the stairs. “Alice?” He asks again.

Bloody hell. He curses. The room is empty, and the window is open. “Bloody hell.” He says out loud this time, he doesn’t believe it. He looks in her closet, under her bed, through her pile of laundry, anywhere she would hide just to get a rise out of him.

But she doesn’t do things like that, do things to get a rise out of him, sure they disagree, but Alice knows better.

“This isn’t funny Alice.” He says sternly worry leaking into his voice.

She’s gone.

“Bloody hell.” He says again, wasting no time, running down the stairs and towards the door. Only one thought filling his head.

Find Alice.

“Killian what happened?” Emma calls, stopping him momentarily before he leaves the lighthouse.

He hesitates only briefly. Killian needs to leave, he needs to find her before the panic sets in, before his mind starts to conjure horrible scenarios for how this ends.

“Alice is gone, I think she snuck out.” He explains in a rush. “I need to go find her, it’s going to be dark soon and I need to go find her.” He hears Emma gasp in surprise.

“What can I do?” She asks, determination in her eyes. “I’d offer to go look but…” She gestures to her leg. He nods in understanding. He suddenly gets an idea.

He goes to his room, rummaging through one of the boxes where he keeps emergency supplies. It takes barely a minute for him to find what he’s looking for. He tosses one at Emma once he returns to the living room.

“A walkie talkie?” She says looking at the device in her hand.

“For emergencies.” He replies. “If she gets back while I’m out looking just call me back.” He explains. “Tell her everything is alright, that I’m not mad, that…” He trails off. He doesn’t know and suddenly feels the panic welling up in his gut.

But Emma seems to get the idea, she smiles kindly at him, her gaze steadying him “It’s going to be ok Killian, you’ll find her or she’ll find you.” Emma says. It fills him with a sense of warmth and belief in her words. “That’s what family does.”

Without another word he ventures out into the forest, listing off Alice’s favorite places in his head.

//

She’s not at the beach, or her bunny shed, or at either of the places they occasionally run into wild deer or that field that once had fireflies. The traps are all undisturbed, which means she either avoided them or didn’t pass the parameter he’d set.

(He can see the sky getting steadily darker)

Killian checks the cliffs he’d made Alice swear never to go near, and the area of that really tall oak that Alice always wants to climb, but Killian always says is too dangerous. Eventually he runs out of places, so he starts rechecking them, looking for any clue, any sign that Alice had been there.

There had been no word from Emma.

(The sun is setting and all he can think about are the animals that come out at night, the dangerous ones, the vicious ones he’s only seen on documentaries.)

Alice had been missing for hours now, and he had no bloody idea where she is.

He started to swear and pray to whoever was out there that he’d do anything if he got his daughter back if she was safe and returned to him unharmed. She was only 6 years old, turning seven soon. She shouldn’t be alone in the woods so long, anything could happen.

(Could this have all been avoided if he’d stayed in Seattle? If he’d dealt with all of this the proper way? Sure it would have taken longer, but then she wouldn’t be lost in the woods right now…)

Killian didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to her. She was his entire world.

And then, like a gift from God himself, the walkie-talkie buzzed to life.

“Killian? Are you there?”

He fumbled for it, nearly dropping the device before gripping it tightly.

“I’m here.” He replies. Please. Please. Please.

“I have someone here who wants to talk to you.” She says softly. He damn near cries out in relief. He tries to keep his voice level as he responds into the walkie, already turning around on his way home.

“Alice?” He says. “Is that you love?” He walks as fast as he can, clutching the little device to his chest.

“I’m sorry Papa.” Alice replies, her voice shaking, he can tell she’s near tears if not already crying. “Please come home. Please Papa. Please.”

He breaks into a run.

“It’s alright Starfish. I’m on my way.” He says breathlessly. “It’s going to be alright.” He can hear his daughter whimper, and the distinct sound of Emma cooing softly to her, sweet words of reassurance.

“See? I told you he’s not mad.” He hears Emma say.  “We’ll be here when you get here Killian.”

//

He barely remembers the rest of the run home; all he remembers is practically slamming open the door, seeing his daughter curled up in a blanket with Emma.

“Alice.” He breathes, out of breath. She picks up her head and looks at him. Her eyes are tear stained, but the second she meets his eyes, she breaks down into tears once more.

“Papa.” She says in a watery sob. He’s by her side in minutes, rocking her back and forth as his daughter cries. “I’m sorry.” She keeps saying at various intervals. He shushes her, soothing her as best he can. He doesn’t understand why she ran off, why she was like this now.

But he just patiently held her waiting for her to calm. She does eventually, calmly settling against him.

“Are you ok Alice? Are you hurt?” He asks. He doesn’t notice any visible markings, but he keeps looking anyway. Alice shakes her head. “What happened Al? You know you can’t run off like that.” He responds, gently he doesn’t want to make her cry again, but she needs to know what she did was wrong.

“I didn’t mean to honest, but I-the Stars and…” she trails off, voice quieting to a whisper. “I think I’m having one of my bad days Papa.” She tells him.

He nods. “I know sweetie. It’ll be alright.” He tells her. “You’re home and safe and that’s all that matters.”

Alice nods into his chest. “Do you think we can play a little chess?” She asks in a small voice. “It helps sometimes.” He knows, he remembers.

“So I boiled some water…” Emma says. It surprises him, he hugs Alice close as he turns around to see her sitting in a chair, the kettle on the stove near boiling. “But I have no idea where you keep mugs, let alone teabags…” He smiles gratefully at her. Killian knows tea and chess, two of her favorite things will definitely calm Alice down.

“Thanks Swan.” He says. “How about it Alice? Would you like some tea?” He asks. Alice doesn’t jump at the opportunity like she usually does, but Killian does see her blue eyes sparkle.

They spend the rest of evening each with a cup of tea and trading off between chess and checkers (for Emma’s sake) he even brought out a few marmalade sandwiches.

//

Killian tucks her in a little earlier than usual, but she’s already exhausted so he decides she needs her rest. He reads to her two stories instead of one and decides to stay right there with her until she falls asleep.

He stays a little bit after just to be sure, just until he hears her deep snores she always makes, watches as she twists and turns and eventually spread her limbs out to the point of covering the entire bed.

When he knows he can put off leaving her side no further he retreats downstairs with a silent promise to check up on her once more before he goes to bed.

(The panic he felt over not knowing where his daughter was had yet to subside, first his nightmare and then this, Killian doesn’t think he’s ever going to sleep again.)

But Emma’s downstairs, a calm sense of warmth on her face, she looks relieved and comfortable. He wishes he could feel as relaxed as she looks.

“Did she go to sleep alright?” Emma asks. Killian nods.

“I could barely tear myself away from her side.” He admitted. “I can’t believe she disappeared like that. I’ve never been so terrified in my life.”

(He has been, but the situation had been all too similar)

Emma nods in agreement. “Are you going to punish her?” She asks.

Killian had thought about it, and decided against it. “She seemed to have punished herself enough over it.” He recalls. “I don’t see a need to add to it.” Another nod from Emma.

“You know she’s just pushing your limits.” Emma says, she panics slightly and then rephrases. “I mean that’s what I used to do.” He raises a brow.

“You ran away at 6 years old?” He asks.

Emma shrugs. “From foster homes.” She clarifies. “I never had anyone out looking for me.” She says casually. “She’s lucky to have you.” He doesn’t really believe that. He knows that she’d be better off with someone better than him, a set of two parents without his baggage and issues. Better parents wouldn’t have her living isolated from the world in a lighthouse.

But this was the hand they’d been dealt.

“I honestly have no idea what I’m doing.” He admits. “I didn’t have the best parents growing up.” Killian sees Emma’s eyes watching him, expression unreadable. She lets him continue, so he does.

“Our mother died when I was little, our father was a drunk after that, disappear most days, forget about us entirely when he wasn’t yelling and blaming us for her death.” Emma nods in understanding.

“My brother practically raised me, he was the only role model I ever had and even then…” He trails off. “I never felt good enough, I always fell just short of him; I was second best to my older brother’s better ways.” He doesn’t want Alice to feel like that, the bar placed too far for her to ever reach.

“You’re doing a good job Killian, I can tell, I-“ She hesitates. “I ran away from my foster home and stole a car when I was seventeen.” She practically blurts out. “My now ex-boyfriend was living in it at the time, he stole it too.” Her smile turns sad. “It was a yellow Volkswagen bug, I loved that car. We lived out of it for a while…but I never had anyone running after me, no one came to find me”

She looks sad at the memory, before looking back at Killian, determination in her gaze. “But Alice has you, you know what the first thing she said when she came through that door?” He shakes his head. “She asked for you. She wanted you there, to comfort her, to tell her it was going to be ok. You’re a good Dad Killian. Give yourself a little credit.”

He smiles at that. He smiles at the feeling of someone telling him what he was doing was enough.

He smiles at Emma and silently hopes that maybe when this was all over Emma could just stay.

Tagging: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @branlovesouat @celestial-fire-writer @therooksshiningknight @kmomof4

[iamanhonestmess]

When Darkness Falls, Haylijah fanfiction

Link to the story on FF in case you missed the first few chapters or want to read ahead (reviews are always appreciated); https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12125374/1/When-Darkness-Falls

Chapter 4 - Late Night Bonding

Pitch black met Hayley's eyes when she opened them again. It seemed that she had fallen asleep sometime during her and Freya's Parks and Recreation binge watch and surprisingly she'd stayed asleep for many hours. But now she was awake and she didn't feel tired anymore.

Sitting up, Hayley glanced around the room, noticing the clock on Freya's bedside table. It was the only source of light filling the room. The clocks bright red letters revealed that it was 4:11 in the morning. If she wanted to, Haley could get at least five more hours of sleep. Letting herself fall back onto the bed, Hayley closed her eyes and proceeded to toss and turn for about 20 minutes before giving up on getting back to sleep.

Frustrated at not being able to fall back to sleep, Hayley sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up too fast and found herself standing on wobbly feet. Spreading her arms out, Hayley managed to balance herself. Slowly and carefully, she made herself over to where she was sure the bedroom door was. She missed it by a few inches and accidentally banged her head into the wall with a loud thud.

"Damn!" she cursed, rubbing her temple as she backed away from the wall.

She should've let her eyes adjust before she tried to find her way out of the room. Her head was now paying the price for her not doing that. Hayley turned around, half expecting Freya to have heard the noise and woken up. She could make out her shape on the bed thanks to the bedside table clock, Freya didn't seem to have moved or be moving at all.

Turning back around, Hayley made sure to find the actual door this time. She made it out of the room without another accidental head banging. Hayley made a quick beeline for the bathroom once she was out in the dimly lit hallway. Any light was better than the dark at that moment. The last thing Hayley needed was another head banging.

After using the bathroom, Hayley quietly wandered the halls as she tried to tire herself out enough so she'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep. She was stuck, confined in-between the walls of the compound currently. It wasn't like she had anything else to do other than sleep the days away until she could finally go home again. Hayley was anxiously awaiting for the day that would happen.

Realizing that walking around wasn't helping tire her out any, Hayley decided to go back to bed and hopefully will herself back to sleep. She was halfway back to Freya's room when she passed the study and noticed the door open just a crack; light was peaking through revealing that someone was in there. Hayley thought about it for a moment, looking from the study door down the hall to Freya's bedroom door and then back to the study door. She decided trying to force herself to sleep was no longer what she wanted to do.

Hayley walked to the study door and slowly pushed it open, pausing momentarily when the door let out a small squeal in protest. She sighed, pushing the door open enough for her to enter. There was no reason to try to be stealthy anymore after the noise that the door made. A small smile formed on her lips as she made her way into the study to find Elijah sitting in one of the chairs, a book laying open in his lap.

"Hey," Hayley said slightly taken aback by how girly her voice sounded in that moment. "Would you mind some company?"

Elijah smiled at her. "Of course," he replied, motioning to the couch that was placed diagonally from the chair he was in.

Hayley returned his smile and went further into the room.

"Your head is bleeding again," Elijah observed as Hayley took a few steps closer to him.

Hayley couldn't help but chuckle when he pointed it out. She hadn't realized she had busted her head open again. But she also wasn't surprised that she had. The impact of her head against the wall had been rather hard...hard enough to give her a headache.

Elijah's brows furrowed in confusion. "What is funny about that?"

"I ran into the wall earlier and I think that might've busted my wound open again," Hayley explained, her laughter having died down.

"Ah," Elijah responded as if he was a scientist who had just made a new discovery. "That was what that noise was then."

They both got a laugh out of that.

"I'm surprised Freya didn't wake up from the noise my head banging against the wall made," Hayley mused, walking around the room and taking in everything as she had done the day before.

"She is surprisingly quite a sound sleeper given the fact that she's the only one in a compound full of vampires that actually needs to sleep and has a regular sleeping schedule," Elijah pointed out.

"I can tell," Hayley agreed, nodding her head a little which caused little droplets of blood to slide down her forehead and face. "A light sleeper would've woken up if that noise happened in their room."

Hayley wiped at the blood on her face without thinking, getting it all over her hands and accidentally on her shirt when she unintentionally swiped her bloody hand across her stomach.

Elijah watched her carefully. "Are you sure you don't want me to help you heal that?" he asked her, preparing himself to stand up if need be.

"Yes, I am sure," Hayley responded in an assuring tone of voice, turning her entire body to look at him. "Besides, I barely know you," she added as an afterthought. "Why would I drink the blood of someone I barely know?"

Hayley would have been lying if she said she wasn't the least bit tempted to take him up on his offer. But then she remembered why she declined the first time around. The circumstances were not the most ideal. Hayley trusted Elijah slightly - for reasons currently unknown - at this point, but she didn't trust him enough yet to drink his blood; not even if it would help ease the pain of her bleeding and aching head.

"After all, I am not a vampire," Hayley joked.

Elijah chuckled. "That you truly aren't," he concurred, pulling out a handkerchief from his suit pocket. "At least use this to help stop your wound from bleeding more and keep it from getting infected."

Hayley reached out and took it from him. "Thank you." She smiled at him.

"How come you're up at this hour?" Elijah asked curiously as he closed the book in his lap and placed it on the table across from him.

Hayley shrugged her shoulders. "I could not get back to sleep," she answered truthfully. "I guess I am a little insomniatic due to being homesick."

"I am doing my best to get you back to your own life as soon as possible," Elijah assured her. "I promise you that."

"For a very strange and unknown reason, I believe what you say," Hayley said, crossing the room and sitting down on the other side of the couch. "A part of me is telling me not to believe you due to the current situation. But then another part of me is telling me that you haven't exactly given me a reason not to believe you so far."

"Which side are you siding with now?" Elijah questioned, staring intently at her as he awaited her answer.

Hayley shot him a sly smirk and replied, "You tell me."

Playing along, Elijah smirked back. "Considering you're sitting here talking to me while you can't sleep, I will guess the latter."

Hayley laughed. "You are correct, kind sir," she said jokingly, dabbing at her head with the handkerchief that he'd given her.

"I assume that my sister has some kind of medicine you can use on your wound to keep it from getting infected." Elijah sat up straighter in his chair as he spoke.

A mischievous smile took form on Hayley's lips. "You mention that now after you've already offered me your blood twice," she said, biting her lower lip softly. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you did that on purpose." Hayley laughed. "Trying to get me to drink your blood? Is that some weird vampire pick up line or action type thing?"

The abrupt speechlessness of Elijah revealed to Hayley that her teasing wasn't something he had expected from her. She didn't blame him. They'd only known each other for a little under two days or so now, he didn't know much about her and her personality yet. A part of her felt sorry for him because sometimes she couldn't even control how she acted. Often times she'd do or say things without realizing until after the fact.

They sat in silence for a short period of time before Elijah cleared his throat and promptly ended it.

"Here, let me," Elijah told her as he leaned forward, reaching out to grab the handkerchief from Hayley.

Their hands brushed against each others in the process, sending a surprise shockwave straight through Hayley. She immediately let go of the handkerchief just as Elijah grabbed hold of it. That had been completely unexpected. If Elijah had felt it, too, he did not let on that he had. Hayley didn't chance mentioning it since she wasn't even sure what it was or what it had meant. Therefore, Elijah had not said anything so she let it go.

It was Hayley's turn to be speechless for a few moments.

"Is there any chance of me getting a toothbrush and some toothpaste?" Hayley asked when she found her voice again, changing the subject to something completely different. "I can only imagine how bad my breath is right now after a few days of not brushing."

A chuckle tore from Elijah's throat at her words as he lightly dabbed the handkerchief against the wound on Hayley's forehead. "I am sure we can arrange something when daylight arrives."

"Would I be crossing a line by asking if there's any way of getting my current toothbrush and toothpaste?" she dared to ask, looking hopefully at him.

Elijah gave her the same look from the day before that more or less conveyed, "Are you serious?"

Hayley shrugged her shoulders. "It was worth a shot." She sighed. "How long will it be until I get to go home?"

"If I knew, I would tell you," Elijah answered honestly. "It all depends on how negotiations go."

Hayley slumped back against the couch with a frustrated sigh. "I miss my bed and clean clothes and my toothbrush and toothpaste and just everything." She winced at the sound of her voice; it was whiny and so not her. "I guess the saying you don't know what you've got until it's gone is true."

Elijah raised an eyebrow at her last choice words.

Rolling her eyes slightly, Hayley chuckled briefly before she replied, "I mean, I know it's not gone for good but it doesn't stop me from feeling that way." She crossed her arms over her chest and repositioned herself so that she was laying on her back on the couch, one leg hanging off the side and the other stretched out over the armrest.

"What are you reading?" she asked when she got tired of throwing herself a pity party, looking towards him and eyeing the book in his lap.

"An old book," he answered. "One that you probably have never heard of."

He was probably right; though that major possibility did nothing to stop Hayley from still challenging him to try her with her eyes.

He accepted her silent challenge and proceeded to tell her the title of the book, give her a brief synopsis of what it was about (when she asked him), the name of the author, and the century that the book came from.

"Alright, so you were right about that one," Hayley admitted defeat after a short while. "I don't recall the public school system teaching about books from that far back," she added as an afterthought. "Although, to be honest I didn't really pay attention in school anyways. I spent more time skipping than actually learning." She laughed at the thought. "I'm sharing more about myself than I should...probably boring you right now."

Elijah shook his head. "You're not boring me," he assured her, smiling brightly at her. "Considering the book I'm reading, I would have thought I'm the one boring you."

Hayley laughed softly. "I guess we're both full of surprises tonight then because you're not boring me either. Even despite the fact that under any other circumstances I would've already thrown that book out the window because it would've frustrated me to no end," she told him. "There's just something about you telling me about it that makes it interesting."

What was with her talkativeness and truth bombs all of a sudden? Usually she didn't talk this much to anyone, even her friends and family. There was no doubt at all in Hayley's mind that Elijah was different than any of the other people she'd met or knew. She could not place her finger on it, though. It was frustrating her to no end to not be able to pin point was the difference was. How was it that he opened her up more than anyone else ever could without even trying to?

"Would you read some of it to me?" Hayley asked, glancing at him.

With an expression of surprise evident on his face, Elijah waited a moment before finally mustering up a reply. "As you wish."

It was Hayley's turn to be surprised by something that he said. His response was a quote from her favorite movie ever. She wasn't much of a fan of romantic movies, but The Princess Bride was an exception; it was a classic. Hayley wondered if Elijah was aware of the double meaning of what he'd said. She didn't take him for someone that watched even a single movie in his lifetime.

"I'm sure he doesn't know what he said," Hayley thought to herself, confused by the sudden feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Not wanting to spend too much time in her head to read too much into the feeling, Hayley smiled at Elijah and urged him to read to her. She settled comfortably back on the couch as he began reading to her. As she listened to the calm and soothing sound of his voice, Hayley felt a wave of contentment wash over her. Her eyes grew too heavy to keep open and gently fluttered shut.

~WhenDarknessFalls~

The next time Hayley opened her eyes, she was met with light rays from the bright morning sun peaking through the curtains. Sitting up, she looked around and found out that she was back in Rebekah's room. She must've fallen asleep on the couch earlier and Elijah brought her here. The sudden realization that to bring her to the room Elijah had to carry her had Hayley's mind spinning. He'd held her in his arms and she wasn't awake to witness it...what was with her luck as of late? Better yet, why was she bummed out that she hadn't been awake when Elijah carried her to the room? What was he unintentionally doing to her?

Before she could ponder on about it any longer, the delicious scent of food made its way to her nose. Her stomach growled and insisted she get up and follow the scent of food. Getting out of bed, Hayley wandered out of the room and down the long hallway. She followed the scent all the way down to the courtyard where she found Freya sitting and eating at one of the tables.

"Is that McDonalds?" Hayley asked, her mouth watering at the sight of the table full of food.

Freya turned towards her with a grin on her face. "I like to splurge sometimes." She laughed, gesturing towards the buffet of food in front of her. "Dig in."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Hayley smiled and rushed to the table, sitting down and wasting no time to start eating anything she could get her hands on. "I know fast food isn't good for me, but why does it have to be so freaking delicious?!"

"The best tasting is usually always the worst when it comes to food," Freya answered, shrugging nonchalantly.

Hayley nodded, agreeing. "Yep, we were pretty much doomed from the start where food is concerned," she said as she practically shoveled fries dipped in Barbecue Sauce into her mouth. "The way the past day or so has been going, I'd say this seems less and less like a hostage situation than it is."

"This is not at all a hostage situation," Freya replied, shaking her head.

Staring at her, Hayley said, "Keeping me here against my will counts as a hostage situation."

"Not exactly," Freya argued. "You seem to be liking it here just fine."

Opening her mouth to respond to Freya, Hayley barely got a word out before a voice came from the top of the stairs behind her.

"After you're finished eating, we are going to take a little trip."

Hayley turned around in her chair to look just as Elijah came down the stairs and made his way over to her.

"Where to?" Hayley asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You'll have to wait and find out," he answered, a hint of mischief apparent in his eyes.

Rolling her eyes, Hayley turned back to face the table. "That is mean." She feigned hurt by him not telling her where they were going.

"I don't like surprises," Hayley announced with a fake pout playing on her lips.

"You can trust me when I say that you'll like this one."

"Wait a second...I thought that I can't leave here," Hayley stated suddenly, wondering how it was possible when she was supposedly spelled to not be able to leave the premises.

Elijah nodded. "Not by yourself."

Hayley tilted her head as she looked at him curiously. "But with you I can?"

Elijah nodded again. "The spell Freya cast is only for you," he told her. "You can pass through the barrier as long as you're touching someone who isn't affected by the spell."

Hayley turned to look at Freya when she cleared her throat.

"Klaus does not know about that part," she told her. "I wasn't completely on board with his plan and I made sure there was a way to get around what he wanted me to do." She smiled. "I told you I was sorry for doing the spell in the first place, and right here and now is your proof."

Hayley smiled back at her. "Um, thank you, I guess."

"We're not all completely blinded by our love for our sister to make such rash decisions against another person who shouldn't be in the middle of everything," Freya admitted.

The sudden reminder of Rebekah had Hayley's guilt rushing back to her. More and more, she was regretting her part in all of this. The closer she became to both Freya and Elijah, the more she was afraid of the truth coming out sometime in the near future. If they ever found out the truth about the situation that they were all in...Hayley didn't even want to think about what would happen then. She could only imagine it; the thought of what could possibly happen then was enough to scare her damn near senseless.

[almondbiscotti]

WFH Day 5: 13 April 2020

7.00am – Woken up by alarm. SERIOUSLY I NEED TO TURN MY DAMN ALARMS OFF.

7.40am – Wake up proper. Scroll scroll social media. Tik Tok is a disease and I’ve been infected.

7.41am – Housemate tells me he got a call from MOH contact tracer asking him if he is Chatusomethingsomething son of Manu something. Clearly wrong number. Also, these contact tracers call early!

7.42am – Housemate also tells me there’s a COVID-19 cluster at Black Tap at MBS. We were at Black Tap on 27 March. REGRET. I AM FILLED WITH REGRET. Don’t care so much about myself but worry about having possibly infected my Mom. Housemate also went to see his parents for dinner in the last 2 weeks. Hopefully MOH doesn’t call me ☹ I’ve been good, I swear.

8.26am – Dept folks check in at dept group chat.  Seriously these people are early.

8.27am – Check in on dept chat group.

8.30am – TIK TOK IS A DIESEASE I SWEAR

8.47am – Roll outta bed.

8.48am – HELLO PLANT BABIES GROW GROW GROW 😊

8.50am – Realise I left my blazer in office. AHHHH need it cos I’m conducting recruitment interviews later!

8.51am – Housemate lets me try on his jacket. Jesus I look like a hobo it’s way too big for me. But looks okay enough on camera I guess.

8.52am - Housemate asks for Dalgona Coffee. I happily obliged. It’s fun to whisk whisk whisk and see the liquid turn into foam 😊

9.03am – My tummy feels odd. WHY?! I HAVEN’T EVEN DRANK MY COFFEE.

9.04am – Jesus Christ who is ringing my doorbell?! Are my Taobao deliveries finally here? AHHH HOLD IN MY BOWEL MOVEMENT!

9.05am – Oh, it’s NEA officer doing house inspection for mosquitos

9.06am – Tell NEA dude to wait cos I need to put on a bra. He checks neighbour’s house first.

9.07am – Housemate hurriedly clears water from the saucers underneath our plants. Don’t think it’s an offence but looks bad because I just watered the plants. I SWEAR I’M NOT BREEDING MOSQUITOES! Those things evaporate by mid-day.

9.12am – NEA officer inspects house. He’s really very polite and non-intruding. 😊 and quick!

9.14am – NEA officer just tells us to be mindful regarding our plants. He totally knows what we did heh.

9.15am – Bowel movement finally. I had to hold it in while the NEA officer did his check.

9.27am – WORK WORK WORK. Send email, reply work texts, prep to-do list for the day.

9.45am – Appalled by my block’s whatsapp group chat. Somebody is upset that our Management Office person didn’t inform us of today’s NEA spot check. IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A SURPRISE SPOT CHECK IF YOU’RE TOLD ABOUT IT HOW IS IT SURPRISE GEEZ.

9.46am – Tell Housemate about it. Find out got people kena fined for telling family member about spot check beforehand.

9.50am – CANNOT GET OVER THE AMOUNT OF STUPID. Not like the NEA officer is demanding entry at your door -_- And surprise checks help protect us against dengue. If I get dengue from these jokers God so help me I will stab somebody. We’re already a dengue hotspot FFS.  

10.00am – Text in the group chat telling my neighbours our MO isn’t supposed to tell us beforehand about the checks since it’s a SURPRISE check. NOBODY REPLIES ME. HAHA. SUCKER.

10.11am – Dalgona coffee is delicious.

10.12am – WORK WORK WORK WORK

10.50am – YOU SEE YOU SEE THESE FUCKERS ON THE BLOCK GROUPCHAT CHANGE TOPIC. Now say yah many mosquitoes recently, got fucking bee even. -_- Cheeeeeeeebye. Just now complain got check now say is good to have check? I flip prata also neh flip so fast.

11.24am – Argh, disgusted by how messy my desktop looks. Clean it up up up up.

11.33am – Much better. 😊 Maybe I should clear my work laptop desktop too.

11.34am – Jesus that is a train wreck. Maybe some other time.

11.58am – TIME TO MAKE LUNCH! Housemate has to leave at 130pm for his distancing ambassador thing so needa make lunch for him quickly!

12.00pm – Decide to reheat soup made last night and add in some pork for housemate. Steamed salmon and enoki mushroom for me! Housemate doesn’t like salmon. Insists that salmon tried to kill him because he once got a horrible salmon fish bone stuck in his throat and it required a trip to ED and an ENT specialist to get it out. Dramatic. But I suppose it is quite traumatic. The fish bone was hella big. I was there when it happened. Truth. 

12.01pm – CHOP CHOP CHOP COOK COOK COOK. I really use a lot of garlic in my cooking. I LOVE GARLIC. And chilli from my apartment garden. 😊

12.20pm – LUNCH IS READY! Was quick and easy.

12.21pm – Housemate needs to shower. So I eat first. Lunch is good! 😊

12.22pm – I watch an American YouTuber as I eat. It’s a 10 tips to keep productive while on quarantine video. Didn’t learn anything new but her voice is soothing and nice to have on in the background as I eat.

12.33pm – Done with lunch! Also realise I might have smeared a little too much chilli essence on my fingers while cutting the chillis earlier. Some parts of my fingers sting ☹

12.35pm – Nomnom on some potato chips for some delicious salty savoury goodness. YUM!

12.45pm – Need to prepare for interviews later at 2pm!!! Okay I shall shower.

1.00pm – Lordy lord it feels good to shower.

1.05pm – Okay, I need to zeng my face. Can’t remember the last time I put make up on. Jesus my concealer is really dry.

1.15pm - Okay, face zenged. Bra on. Work-ish top on. PJ shorts below because no one can tell when you’re on a VC. 😊

1.17pm – Tried on housemate’s blazer. Rearrange table a little to ensure laptop camera doesn’t capture any weird things during my video interviews.

1.20pm – Turn on the aircon cos blazer is REALLLLLLY hot.

1.30pm – OKAY I AM ALL READY FOR THIS.

1.40pm - Housemate leaves for duty to the nation. BYE HOUSEMATE BE SAFE! 

1.43pm - Housemate returns. He forgot his car keys.

2.00pm – HELLO FELLOW INTERVIEWERS.

2.30pm – First candidate!

2.36pm – SHIT IT IS RAINING THE WINDOW IN MY BEDROOM IS OPEN FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

2.40pm – Realise there is no way I can stealthily leave the room to close my bedroom window. ☹

2.57pm – It stops raining. Praise be but I’m sure my bedroom floor is wet.

2.59pm – Interview ends. I sprint to the bedroom to close the window and clean up wet floor. Phew, thankfully not very bad.

3.04pm – Next candidate!

5.45pm – Interviews and post interview huddle ends! PHEW I AM POOPED!

6.09pm – check out on dept chat group for the day. I AM DONE WITH WORK I TELL YOU I AM DONE. Interviews really take it out of you.

And there ends WFH day 5? Day 5!

[sunset-wishes-upon-hill]

How are you feeling now? (Hopefully your better I wanted to ask about your Gotham/batman story is dr crane gonna use his toxic fumes on Anne,and if he does will she maybe let something slip about her origin.

Mmmh., I’m still alive. I got ear infection and it’s horrible, thank you for asking :) don’t know about anyone else but I love it when people ask how I’m feeling, it’s a good conversation starter as I start telling you my life story haha! I hope you’re doing alright as well!

 Yes, Dr Crane will use his toxic on Anne and she will slip up under influence. 

Also, I would like to tell you that I’ll be updating the new chapter tomorrow on FF :) I think you’d be a bit surprised.