#And maybe there's some things I've been refusing to face out of fear that...need to be faced
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I don't know what it is about Neil Gaiman's stories and characters that bring up so many visceral emotions and realizations but Dead Boy Detectives has gripped me in it's skeletal claws.
I'll admit I haven't read the comics--one more thing on my neverending tbr pile--so I came into this show without any preconceptions or foreknowledge of the characters or their histories. And I didn't do any research on the show beforehand a) to avoid spoilers and b) it's Neil Fucking Gaiman what am I gonna do NOT watch!?
Basically, I had no idea what to expect from it. Except that it'd be queer (praise be).
And I gotta tell you, Charles is getting to me. In ways and at depths I never could have expected. And, fuck, it's making me confront some things I didn't realize were affecting me...and some that maybe I did...
Like the anger. Gods, the deep-rooted anger at the injustice and cruelty of the world and the hands you're dealt. The fury of feeling helpless and alone and terrified during the worst experiences of your life. And the self-loathing you feel as you bury that rage for fear of becoming the very monsters that tormented you--unable to express it in even a healthy manner because you can only associate anger with violence. So you bottle it and bury it and hope against hope you can keep it down, but you fear the day you run out of burial ground.
Like the compulsion to act like everything's fine. To mask any negative emotions with a smile and a kind word or a laugh. To never be the reason someone else is in pain. To try so hard to undo the pain done by others. To be the person you needed most who was never there. Maybe you're trying to convince yourself that you're not a monster. Living in constant fear that you really are that monster, and all your goodness and light is a smokescreen to trick truly good people into allowing you to walk amongst them--and that one very bad day they'll all see the truth and your worst fears will be confirmed in their eyes.
Like the almost desperate need to cling to anything or anyone good that comes into your life, because it has happened so rarely and so fleetingly. The fear of taking certain risks with those things and people because any change can be the one that results in losing them. Yet constantly taking risks with yourself and your life (death?), likely boiling down to "If I go first, I don't have to lose them." Because, deep down, you think they could never miss you as much as you'd miss them.
And even specific moments...
Like using the word "rough" to describe abuse, because how else do you reference decades...or in his case, likely at least a decade...of trauma and abuse without upsetting someone? Without letting them know it's still affecting you?
Like equal parts fear and fury welling inside you as you watch something truly horrific happen. Memories wrapping your senses so tightly as that man brutalized his family for no reason. Being both unable to stop it and unable to look away. Desperate to do something about it but completely helpless. Again.
And reliving his trauma, forced to by someone else? Feeling that pain and misery all over again. The heartbreak as friends choose to hurt you for reasons you don't understand. The anguish as your brain tries to protect itself while a parent who's supposed to love you makes you wonder why you exist at all. The terror of being hunted. Not knowing why. Not knowing what you've done to deserve it. Wondering if somehow you do.
And confessing his fear that he's a "bad guy." Wondering if you're really the villain in your story. Fearing that the reason people treated you so cruelly is because they saw the monster within, and thought they could keep it contained and afraid. Fearing that you won't be able to.
And not every day is like this. Not every day has you feeling like you're at the edge of a precipice. Some days are quite good actually, especially if you have even one good person around. But any day could turn out like this.
But you keep on with the smiles and the positive attitude because the monsters can't win. Your monster can't win. And frankly, you don't know how else to deal with it, because no one ever taught you how to. Or maybe you never had the chance to learn. All you know is that it's all you know.
#dead boy detectives#charles rowland#I am so fucked up about this#I was not expecting to see myself in this show especially not at my age#But it's almost like seeing 16 year old me...experiences both different and so alike#And on one level I feel like I've come so far from that angry kid#But on another I think it made me realize that it's not as far as I thought#And maybe there's some things I've been refusing to face out of fear that...need to be faced#Goddamnit Neil#But also thanks...#Sorry to get so heavy#I've been going back and forth on this draft for a while now and I think I just need to release it#cw abuse mention#cw trauma mention#cw self loathing
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IF IT MEANS YOU ✦ AZRIEL
✦ SUMMARY: Love is not afraid of the dark—it reaches for it, soft yet unyielding. Some things are worth breaking for. Some things are worth staying for. Even when the night threatens to consume them whole.
✦ WORD COUNT: 1.0K
✦ WARNINGS: angst is a given, fluff is a bonus; feelings of inadequacy — english is not my first language!
✦ MAY'S RADIO: holiiii, this is my first time writing for mr. azriel mcthottie 😌 i've been dying to write with/for him for a while now, but i was—am—too scared to dive into his world. BUT this is me forcing myself to get a little out of my comfort zone and it wouldn't be me if i didn't bring the angst to the party 🤭
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The night was thick with shadows, the velvety darkness wrapping around them like a cloak. The stars above Velaris flickered behind shifting clouds, casting fleeting silver glows over the rooftops. But Azriel’s expression remained unreadable, the golden light from the streetlamps barely reaching the sharp planes of his face.
His scarred hands were clenched into fists at his sides as he took a measured step back.
“You never should’ve trusted me.” His voice was rough, fractured. “I destroy everything I touch.”
The words sliced through the air, through the fragile space between them, but you didn’t flinch. You stood your ground, heart pounding, refusing to let him disappear into his own darkness again.
“Maybe I’m okay with being destroyed if it means staying with you.”
Azriel sucked in a sharp breath, as if your words had physically struck him. His shadows curled around his shoulders, restless, uncertain. But beneath them, his wings trembled. He was unraveling, torn between pushing you away and pulling you closer.
“You don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice nearly lost to the wind.
“Then make me understand.” You took a step forward, closing the distance. “Show me.”
His throat bobbed, shadows clinging to his skin like ink, but he didn’t move away this time. And when your fingers brushed his, his hand curled around yours—not in destruction, but in something achingly close to surrender.
Azriel’s grip tightened around your hand, calloused fingers rough against your skin. He was holding on, despite everything he had said, despite the war raging inside him.
Azriel exhaled, his forehead still pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. His shadows curled around you both, hesitant yet unwilling to pull away.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he whispered.
You tilted your head, forcing him to look at you. “I know exactly what I’m saying.”
His jaw clenched. “You think you do now, but one day, you’ll see. You’ll wake up and realize I was never meant to be yours. That I was never meant to have this.”
Your heart ached at the quiet devastation in his voice, at the way he said it like he was certain—like he had already accepted losing you before you’d even had the chance to be his.
So you stepped back. Just enough for his hands to slip from your waist, just enough for the night air to stretch between you. His brows furrowed, his hands twitching like they wanted to pull you back, but he forced himself to stay still.
“If that’s what you really believe,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the war raging inside you, “then tell me to leave.”
Azriel’s lips parted, but no sound came out. His wings twitched, shadows curling around his fists.
You waited.
Seconds passed, stretching into eternity.
His throat bobbed, his jaw tight, his hands shaking.
But he never told you to go.
Instead, his voice broke as he whispered, “I can’t.”
And that was all you needed.
So you closed the distance again, pressing your palm over his racing heart. “Then stop trying to push me away.”
Azriel’s breath was ragged, his wings half-spread like he was preparing to bolt—but he didn’t. His hands hovered at his sides, clenched into fists, as if letting himself touch you again might truly make his worst fears come true.
Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to stay steady. “You keep telling me I shouldn’t trust you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “That you destroy everything you touch.”
His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
“So destroy me, then.”
Azriel flinched as if you had struck him. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” You searched his face, looking for any sign that he would stop running. “I meant what I said, Az. Maybe I’m okay with being destroyed if it means staying with you.”
He let out a ragged breath, his wings trembling. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Don’t I?” His heartbeat thundered beneath your touch. “I know you. I know you’d rather tear yourself apart than hurt me. I know you love me.”
Azriel’s entire body locked up, his breath catching. His hands twitched at his sides, as if he wanted to pull you in, to keep you against him, but still, he hesitated.
So you made the choice for him.
You pushed up on your toes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Soft. Gentle. A promise.
“I’m not afraid of your darkness,” you murmured against his skin. “But I think you are.”
Azriel let out a shaky breath, something crumbling in his expression. And then, finally—finally—he let go of whatever was holding him back.
His lips crashed against yours, kissing you like he was afraid you would disappear—like he was afraid he would disappear if he let go. His hands, so hesitant before, now gripped your waist with something close to desperation, fingers pressing into your skin as though anchoring himself to you—like he needed to be sure you were real, that you were his.
Your own hands slid up his chest, over the smooth leather of his fighting leathers, feeling the way his heart thundered beneath your palm. He was warm, solid, real.
When he finally pulled back, his breath was uneven, his eyes darker than before. His wings had curled around the two of you, shielding you from the rest of the world, as if this moment was something sacred.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, voice raw. “How to be this.”
Your fingers traced the scars along his knuckles, grounding him. “Then let’s figure it out together.”
His throat bobbed. “You deserve better.”
“Hmm. Maybe, maybe not,” you teased, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “But I don’t want better. I want you.”
Azriel exhaled sharply, like your words had knocked the air from his lungs. For a long moment, he just looked at you, like he was memorizing every detail, every piece of you that had chosen him despite everything.
Then, something in him shifted. His shadows softened, no longer swirling with unease but settling around you both like a whispered vow.
“I don’t know how to be the person you deserve,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. “But I’ll try.”
And this time, he didn’t let go.
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#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel spymaster#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#azriel fanfic#azriel fic#azriel drabble#acotar drabble#acotar x reader#acotar x you#x reader#( agentstarkid's works )
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extras: | 🐈 | 🐾 | 🐈 | Ao3
Eddie was lowkey disgusted by how his uncle would talk about one of his neighbors. No, he doesn't think it's bad for old people to fall in love or have crushes. But it's weird to know these things about his own uncle.
And it's also sad to watch, because it's been months of Stephanie this, Stephanie that, and nothing came of it, so he felt safe to assume the infatuation was one-sided. So when he tells his uncle he can't go feed her cats that week, he figures it's for the best. And not only because of Wayne's twisted ankle. To his surprise though, he doesn't seem fazed; he just waves his hand and says:
"Yeah, yeah, I know. No climbing the stairs with this thing." He pokes the cast with his crutch. "I've already volunteered you anyway."
Eddie raises his eyebrows because he surely misheard that.
"You did what now?"
"Told Stephanie I'll send you to feed her cats," Wayne says, confirming his fears.
"Why?! She has so many other neighbors!" Eddie points out, gesturing vigorously around the room, implying but meaning the flats surrounding them.
Wayne clicks his tongue at him.
"Would you let in just any of your neighbors into your home? She already trusts me, and I'm vouching for you."
Eddie gapes at him, hating that he's making a valid point. Damned be his old man and his reasonable thinking. He crosses his arms because while it makes sense, it doesn't mean Eddie can't be angry about it.
"When?"
"She's visiting her friend this weekend so she asked for Saturday evening and Sunday morning. And stay with them for a while if possible, so they don't go crazy. Ah, and the plant in the kitchen needs watering."
"Great," Eddie grits through his teeth. He's so delighted at the prospect of spending time with some old lady's cats. The whole place probably stinks of cat piss and he'll definitely kill the plant as soon as he touches it. (It was his only superpower, which is not what he aimed for when his five-year-old had been praying, thanks for nothing, Jesus.) He just hopes he won't have to meet her. Hearing some old hag complain about his clothes, hair, and general adolescence was the last thing he wanted on his weekend off. But, alas...
"She asked you to come over tomorrow so she can show you where everything is."
Eddie groans.

It's a Friday afternoon, he's at his uncle's taking a break from college and work. He should be sharing a beer with the old man, complaining about the coursework, the professors, and other students, not picking him up from the hospital, and running errands while his foot is in a cast. And certainly not meeting up with old stinky spinsters.
To add insult to injury, Miss Stephanie, (which, by the way, is such a typical old hag name) lives two floors higher and the elevator is perpetually broken. Not too high, but high enough for Eddie's anemic lungs to start collapsing.
He stops around the corner to steady his breath, because regardless of his overall attitude, he didn't want to worsen the first impression. He already refused to 'dress like a decent man' and didn't want to wheeze into the lady's face on top of it.
Once his lungs are functioning properly again, he walks into the hallway, looking for number 54 as Wayne instructed. He knocks on the door, hoping he didn't mess it up and is at the right place. What if it was 45?
It must have been because he was told Stephanie Harrington lives alone.
"Uh, sorry, I must have—"
"Are you Eddie?" The woman who opened the door takes him in. At her feet, a tabby cat peers curiously at the new human.
"Uh, yeah? I'm looking for Miss Stephanie?" he offers awkwardly. Maybe that's the friend? Or a sister?
But the woman extends her hand and smiles brightly.
"That would be me, but please call me Steph. I wish I could drill that into Wayne's thick skull." She rolls her eyes fondly.
Her big, gorgeous eyes, framed by thick lashes. She's not an old hag, she could be in her forties at best. She's tall and curvy and her hair looks straight out of a shampoo commercial. She's gorgeous. Eddie shakes her hand in a daze.
"Hi," he croaks as he's ushered inside.
"Come in, come in! I've heard so much about you, it's great to finally see you in person. I must say," she turns around and gives him a quick once-over. "Wayne's stories didn't do you justice."
Did she just check him out?
Eddie clears his throat, suddenly dry like his elbows during winter.
"Uh, same to you."
"Yeah?" She puts her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "What does he say about me?"
"Good things only," Eddie assures her.
"So you're saying I'm a bitch." She squints at him.
"No!" His eyes widen. "What?!"
"Well, if he's saying only good things about me, and you say they don't describe me right..."
Eddie gets the point she's making and quickly shakes his head.
"No, he just made you sound like a crazy old cat lady, and you're..." He waves his hand uselessly. "Not that."
She sighs softly, shoulders sagging a little. It would be easy to miss but Eddie's senses are heightened after his fuck up.
"I kinda am, though," she says with a shrug.
Eddie feels the need to reassure her somehow.
"Well, you're not eighty and your place doesn't smell like cat litter, I think you're fine."
She barks a laugh, it's low and surprised and Eddie's cheeks are red because he's just digging further into the hole he's in, isn't he?
"Good to know the bar is so low."
Eddie groans, tired of doing damage control that's not controlling anything.
"I'm gonna shut up now."
"Please don't." Steph smiles wide and teasingly. "You're a funny one. Just like your uncle told me."
Eddie scoffs. He's going to have a word or two with the old man once he's back.
"Great, this is exactly the impression I was hoping to make."
At his words, the woman eyes him up and down again, and he can feel his cheeks heating up.
"Yeah? Not as the local punk satanist?" she teases, making Eddie bristle.
"Metalhead," he corrects instinctively and immediately winces.
"Ah, my bad. I'm not good at the subcultures thing." She smiles apologetically but it doesn't read well with how clearly amused she is. "Anyway, here's the plant I want you to water tomorrow evening. Just like, half a glass."
Right. Plants. Cats. He came here on a mission.
"Come on, I'll show you my cats."
There's only three of them and they come rushing from all corners of the flat at the rustle of a catnip bag. Eddie never saw high cats so he's glad to have this opportunity now. Stephanie points to the tabby he saw earlier.
"This is Dart, she's not actually mine, but my friend couldn't keep her at the dorms. This is Garfield," she points to the orange cat, making Eddie huff a laugh. She grins. "Yeah, don't tell anyone, but he's my favorite," she whispers, to which Eddie mimics zipping his mouth shut.
Lastly, she points to the black cat rolling on the carpet.
"And this is Arwen."
Eddie frowns.
"Like, The Lord of the Rings Arwen?"
"Yeah," Steph sighs. "Dustin named her. He's the friend I've mentioned. Dart is short for D'Artagnan and I've fought teeth and nail for Garfield not to be called Pippin."
"Pippin is a great name, though," Eddie points out.
"Maybe," she huffs, crossing her arms. "But I wanted one for myself, okay? Not everything has to be about Dustin."
"Is Dustin like, your brother or something?"
"Kinda?" She frowns. "We're not actually related but I babysat him, and then we became friends. He just stuck around, somehow." The words sound angry but her face betrays the fondness she has for her friends.
"That's nice," he offers. "I'm an only child, never met any cousins, and only ever had friends my age."
"Well, good for you. Maybe if I had friends my age I wouldn't be living alone with a bunch of cats."
Eddie frowns.
"Hey, now..."
She cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"I'll show you where the food is."
Eddie's in a daze when he comes back downstairs, only realizing his visit ended when he's standing in his uncle's living room. He's been gone for only half an hour but it feels longer.
"How did it go?" his uncle asks, pulling him out of his reverie.
Edie turns to him and blinks, fighting the cotton around his brain.
"Fine?" he offers. "She's not as old as I expected," he admits bluntly. His uncle snorts.
"What, just because she lives alone with her cats you assumed she's on her deathbed?"
Eddie winces. It's exactly what he did.
"Well, the people in her life weren't kind to her, so now she relies on her pets. Nothing wrong with that." Wayne shrugs.
"What do you mean?" Eddie frowns, curious. Concerned. He goes to the kitchen, not wanting to seem too eager to get an answer, and grabs a beer for himself and his uncle. He opens the junk drawer to find an opener and hears his uncle answer from the adjacent living room space.
"She doesn't say much about it and I never asked, but she's always alone on the holidays. Her friends visit a few days before or after."
Eddie walks back in and hands his uncle the opened bottle.
"Thanks, son."
He nods and settles heavily in an armchair. Focusing his gaze on the label peeling off of his beer, he hums thoughtfully.
"No family?"
"Seems so." Wayne nods solemnly. "I think it was a conflict of lifestyle choices, but I'll be honest, I'm basing it off of rumors and my own assumptions." He scratches his cheek, frowning at the wall. "It's not my place to pry, though I offered to hear her out if she ever felt like needing an ear." He sighs. "I'm just trying to be a good neighbor. Invited her for dinner over Thanksgiving, when you couldn't come. I was surprised she's into basketball," he muses.
Eddie was seeking answers and now was even more confused.
"You invited Miss Stephanie. For a dinner?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Yes. She was alone, I was alone, figured I could at least ask. I'm still surprised she agreed. She declined all my other offers."
"Wow." A teasing smile creeps on his lips against his will. "You've been inviting a lot of women since I moved out?"
"Listen," Wayne takes on his stern voice and it takes all of Eddie's willpower not to cackle. He can see his uncle's mustache twitch. "Stephanie is a lovely lady, but she's way too young for an old man like me. And this old man is too old for romance anyway. Besides—" he cuts himself off like he realized he was saying too much. Which, of course, piques Eddie's curiosity.
"Besides?"
Wayne shrugs.
"I don't think I'd ever be ready for someone like her."
Eddie makes a confused face.
"The fuck does that mean?" he asks, irritated.
"Rumors and speculations, son."
#trying again bc it flopped hard#does tumblr hate the m word or was it something else?#idk anyway heres a repost#steddie#stevie harrington#transfeminine steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#mine#steddie fanfiction#transfem steve harrington#crazy cat lady stevie#Stevierything
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WHEN ARE YOU GONNA WRITE THE MIXTAPE FOR THINK LATER? I WILL BE WAITING BUT WHEN?
LY DIVAAA

꩜summary: lewis sees you at a party. your hair is shorter. other things have changed too.
꩜pairing: lewis hamilton x fem! reader
꩜warnings: drug use!!!! (please be so careful and do not take drugs!), reader is a mess, lewis is scared, they're both in love with each other but won't admit it :)
꩜a/n: hey yall! sorry this has been taking so long, i've been having a bit of writer's block plus some other things going on in my life soooo yeah :) enjoy and thank you for all the love on this series, i love writing it!
When Lewis walked into the party, he was not expecting to see you there, and definitely not looking the way you were looking. Short hair, that was the first thing he noticed. You’d had long hair for as long as he’d known you, and you two went way back. The next was the white dust around your nose. His posture stiffened. LA was notorious for this, but you weren’t. You’d always been the kind of girl who preferred a night in, or a pub crawl with friends. Not some big LA party where everyone knew everyone and pretended they didn’t see them when they sneaked off to bedrooms despite the rings on their fingers, and watched as they ingested more alcohol and substances than the human body should be able to take. He crossed the room in a few strides, and he was in front of you, searching you for any signs of recognition as he wiped your nose.
“Y/n,” he said softly, taking note of your glossy eyes and doped out smile. “Y/n.” he tried again, panic surging through him. He wanted to get you out of here, let you sober up, make you talk about whatever was happening. You’d been MIA for weeks, ignoring his calls and texts and offers to come to a GP. He’d seen pictures, but he knew better than to believe the press and what they were saying about you. He just wanted his best friend back.
You looked up, staring at him like you’d only noticed him, then you smiled. Wide and pretty, and it brought a soft smile to his lips too. “Lew?” you yawned. “You’re here?” You reached up to touch his face, like you needed to prove he was actually there. He let out a nervous breath as he nodded.
“How about we go back home, yeah?” he smiled softly, helping you to your feet. He still couldn’t get over it, the hair, it was so short. Still, he pushed that aside as he helped you into his car, something he couldn’t name pulling at his heart when he saw your glossy blown-out eyes. Maybe it was fear, or care, or maybe even disappointment. He didn’t linger on it, just got into the driver’s seat, and focused on getting you home. The car ride was short but you spent the entire trip babbling nonsense that he just tried to decode. It was difficult, he was only catching words and phrases, but he got so nervous about it that he grabbed the narcan he kept in his glovebox (he had celebrity friends, of course he kept narcan in his car), and held it in his hand, just in case. You tripped as you got out of the car, and he caught you, lifting you up until you got inside and somehow scurried out of his hold.
You stumbled into the bedroom, shedding his jacket, before plopping onto his bed. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the fond smile on his lips as you closed your eyes and relaxed. He shook his head, that sense of fondness hitting him in the chest and spreading. “I’ll grab some water-”
“Stay,” you demanded, and who was he to refuse? He had a bottle beside his bed already, he always did. “Missed you,” you mumbled, reaching a hand out for him to take. He took your hand and held it to his chest as he watched you. How had so much changed? You used to be the girl who would annoy him in the paddock, always finding him at the worst moments and turning them into the best. Yeah, you were a bit younger than him, but still, you two were best friends. You’d always been easy to talk to, for anyone. You walked into any room and lit it up, at least that’s what Lewis thought. Now, this was reality, and he really missed those moments. “Been so bad, Lew,” you admitted, and he saw tiny tears falling from your eyes. It pulled at his heart and he already knew he’d do anything to get you out of whatever hole you were in. “I don't know what to do.” He gulped back the ball of emotion in his throat and hummed.
“What’s happening sweetheart?” he cooed, so gentle, so kind. It just made you cry harder. You don’t deserve it, you told yourself. He sat beside you on the bed, raking a hand through your hair. “Talk to me.”
“I’ve been having selfish thoughts,” you admitted, words slurred as your need for tears subsided, and you just stared. Glossy eyes. “Want you, so bad,” you whispered like you were telling a secret. His heart stopped in his chest as he gulped down a surprised gasp, but still, he stayed closed and listened. “I hate it.”
He hadn’t a clue what to say. You were high and probably wouldn’t remember this tomorrow, but he couldn’t lie and pretend he hadn’t been waiting to hear those words out of your mouth for years. He just hated that they weren’t sober. He hated that he hadn’t seen the signs, taken better care of you, noticed. He looked back down at you, and you were already asleep in his arms, so he just tried to quieten his mind enough to sleep. It took some time, but he eventually fell into a deep sleep, content to have his arms around you.
Your head pounded, your skin felt too tight, and your eyes genuinely couldn’t handle the light. You tried to think back, to remember where you even were, think of who you were with, but nothing came to mind. You recognised the curtains, those long black curtains. You gulped, suddenly a lot more awake. Lewis. The man you’d been dodging for months. The man whose bed you were in right now. You sat up much too quickly and covered your mouth with a hand as you felt the urge to vomit, but swallowed it back down. You weren’t going to vomit in Lewis’s bed.
“You’re awake,” he stated, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face. You pulled the covers up your body like they could shield you from his inevitable wrath, fuck, you hated this. You felt so small, he had all the power in the room because you were the junkie and he was the concerned friend who needed to fix you. You looked down. This is what you had been avoiding. You awaited the infamous question, the one you’d been dreading to hear from his lips for months. The ‘how long have you been using?’ question. The one that cemented that you had a problem. The one that meant rehab and therapy, and trying to fix yourself. “You cut your hair?” He questioned, and your eyes shot up to meet his. He was walking closer, his eyes trained on you.
“Yeah,” you nodded, pushing some of the strands back. “I felt like I needed a change after the break up.” You hadn’t talked about it, not with him. Your ex was the one who got you into everything, everyone in LA knew that. Then he left you, high and dry (literally) to go fuck a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader, and left you behind with a drug addiction and heartbreak. It was always his idea to get high, always his stuff, always him convincing you it was a good idea. You wished you hadn’t listened. You wished you’d just left him first.
“Are you alright?” Lewis asked tentatively, his hand reaching out to brush your shoulder. His eyes were full of concern and love, like they always were. You tried to hold them back, but the tears fell. You shook your head, and it was enough for him to wrap you up in his arms and hold you, whispering the entire time. “I’ve got you.” He promised. You believed it.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered back, face flush with his chest. “I’m so sorry.” You wailed but he hushed you softly, a hand running up and down your back soothingly.
“I’ve got you now,” he cooed. “We’re going to get you help, yeah? I’ll be there the whole time.” He promised, a hand running over your hair and cupping your chin so that you’d look him in the eye and see his commitment. Panic filled your chest at the idea of rehab, at the idea of admitting you had a problem, but the thought of Lewis being there beside you, you guessed that was the best way to do it. “I love you.” he reminded you, but it didn’t sound like all the other times. Either way, you nodded.
“I love you too,” you nodded, your arms wrapping around his neck once again. You could do this. Or at least try to, for Lewis.
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#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton#lh#lh44#lewis#lewis x reader#lewis imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton imagine#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#lewis hamilton x you#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula one#formula 1#f1 fluff
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you don't go to parties | prologue
summary: you and erik had a good arrangement—fuck buddies that didn't breach the line of casual. the only time this whole thing would unravel is if it became more than what it was. and that would never happen, right?
genre: angst, smut, fwb to lovers
pairing: fwb!erik campbell x f!reader
words: 606
note: i have been thinking of making this series for a while now! hopefully it gets me out of the series writing slump I've had since low expectations (i am so sorry, I've written myself into a corner.). I'm planning about 3-5 chapters for this, nothing too crazy! don't hesitate to drop in my asks if you want to talk O wO
Title taken from 5sos - You Don't Go to Parties
Parts: prologue | 1
Erik’s eyes scanned the living room for the fifth time that night. His head was spinning—from far too much alcohol, too much smoke, and too many people. It took so long to convince Julia and Bobby to help host this party, a party that’s now run its course as the clock ticked closer to 5 am.
From his spot on the couch, he saw that the crowd had thinned to a few stragglers. Some passed-out college students and a co-worker from the tattoo parlor who was looking for his vape. Erik was lying stomach-down on the cushions, a bad idea considering he just finished hurling his guts out.
Someone had turned the music down to a hum. Cups and wrappers rustled in the background as one of his siblings cleaned up—probably Bobby. Erik knew he should help out, especially since the whole thing had been his idea. However, he couldn’t push through the fog in his mind. He inched his fingers closer to the carpet, feeling around for his phone. Barely grasping it, he scrolled through his unanswered texts for the past three months.
Suddenly, a weight was on his legs. He grunted, though not making the effort to turn around and see who it was.
“Erik.” It was Julia.
He stayed silent, hating how his siblings saw him like this—like a wounded animal with the blood puddle getting bigger. Julia rubbed his back tentatively. She knew how prickly he could be. He was already so averse to touch even before what happened. It could only get worse now.
“I’m sorry she didn’t come. Maybe…” she trailed off, trying to grasp for an explanation. “Maybe it slipped her mind.”
She looked up, her eyes meeting Bobby’s. He was tying up a filled garbage bag, though his attention was on his older brother. A look of understanding passed between them. Pity, sadness. Julia’s attention snapped back to Erik when she felt his shoulders shudder. She craned her neck, trying to get a better look at his face without seeming so obvious. When she realized that tears had been rolling down Erik’s cheeks, her stomach dropped. He hadn’t even tried to wipe them away—a rare public display of vulnerability. She waved her hands to Bobby, making a crying motion with them.
“Kiki, let’s go up now. You need to rest, okay?” She slid off him, taking one of his arms and hooking it around her shoulder. Bobby went over and did the same with Erik’s other arm.
“It’ll be okay. I’m sure she’ll come around,” Bobby tried to reassure him, except Erik knew that that was a lie.
It was his fault you wouldn’t talk to him. It was he who pushed you away. Clouded by his fear, he ruined the best thing that happened to him before it got taken away, before it could even properly start.
When they finally got him to his bedroom, Erik still refused to talk. Julia had to pull Bobby back, shaking her head at him in defeat. They’d have to leave him alone for now. Pushing him into a corner would only make him retreat further into himself. They took one last look at him before shutting the door and going back down.
Julia made her way to their backyard. A stream of tissue paper fluttered in the wind, covering their swing set. Chairs were toppled over in between littered solo cups. She sighed, already dreading the clean-up. For now, she was preoccupied with something else.
She dialed your number half-heartedly, already expecting the call to be left unanswered. To her surprise, you picked up.
#erik campbell#erik campbell x reader#final destination#final destination 6#final destination: bloodlines#fd: bloodlines#erik campbell smut#erik campbell imagine#richard harmon
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I have some thoughts about the next to normal proshot that I need to share because I have never been less normal about any musical ever and no one I know irl has seen it. Spoilers below if you care about that sort of thing.
The whole plot happens because Diana wants to connect with Natalie! She sees her reaction to Henry and wants to relate to her and feel how she feels, so she dumps her meds and it's only when she acknowledges Natalie in therapy that she really starts making progress. It's also only when Nat tells the truth of their lives that Diana starts to remember it. Natalie really is the driving force of the story.
Gabe corrects Dan on Henry's name! In my mind this means either Diana's subconscious pays more attention than Natalie thinks she does or Dan's guilt extends to how little attention he pays to Natalie.
In I am the One, Gabe only speaks after Dan says "could you leave me" to Diana. Gabe really is Dan's fears in that moment, not Diana's, and it's about what will happen if Di leaves and he is left alone with his grief. The next time we see Gabe around Dan is after the suicide attempt, and he's refusing to hear his fears even when they're screaming beside him. "I've never had to face a world without her by my side". When she does leave him officially that is when he is finally able to acknowledge (and name!) his grief and he is terrified.
The Break is Diana finally taking her mental health into her own hands. She's not just trying to be 'normal' for Dan any more, as his 'normal' is ignoring Gabe. The staging is just amazing, showing how she acknowledges Gabe in a healthy way, instead of relying on him to get her through the day.
The hand touch! When Nat sees her dad (Dan "it's going to be good" Goodman) crying in the dark, Natalie feels a small part of the grief that has been haunting her family. She has always known about Gabe, but she didn't overtly feel the grief of the loss until she sees it in her dad.
The references to weather throughout are crazy, but I don't see people talking about references to the light/night! At the very beginning, Diana is waiting up for Gabe. She says it's the seventh night this week (obviously insomnia due to her manic state) but also because when Gabe was a baby they would stay up all night to make sure he made it through. During the last song, Dan finally acknowledges those nights "night after night, we'd sit and wait for the morning light, but we've waited far too long". Then Diana comes in with "day after day, wishing all our cares away, trying to fight the things we feel but some hurts never heal, some ghosts are never gone" she's again acknowledging that she doesn't need to be normal! And she can live with her illness and her grief in the daylight.
And that's it!! Maybe now that I've put all my thoughts out there I can stop thinking about this musical but unlikely.
#next to normal#gabe goodman#dan goodman#next to normal west end#natalie goodman#diana goodman#thoughts#musical theatre#truly cannot get this musical out of my brain
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Keith would turn to hypnosis or brainwashing to make us love him if he’s fully snapped…?
Could I maybe please request a drabble about that por favor 🥹
Sweet Vacation
CW: kidnapping, brainwashing, fork harassment
Word count: 1345
You ignored the first signs that Keith wasn’t doing well mentally. When he’d turn his back to you at night and sob silently, you’d pretend not to hear it. When he’d spend his evenings staring out the window for hours on end, eyes glazed over, you’d find things to busy yourself with.
It did annoy you when he put a tracker on you. The fight that followed only made things worse. He became constantly paranoid, asking to hear your voice every hour you weren’t home, having breakdowns when you so much as left the room he was in.
There was no doubt that he wouldn’t accept it if you tried to break up with him. You never bothered to start the conversation. You simply packed your things one day, blocked his number and left.
Unfortunately, he’d used more than one tracker.
- - -
You awaken to an unfamiliar hardwood floor, head pounding and limbs stiff. So stiff, in fact, that you aren’t able to move them. Your eyes shoot open as you tug on the ropes tying your limbs to the chair you're sitting in.
The room you’re in is unfamiliar, a lavish living room with wooden walls and a large fireplace. A sweet, mind-numbing fragrance catches your attention. Possibly, the herbs burning in a bowl on the coffee table before you. All the curtains are drawn, so you fail to see anything outside. You can’t remember how or when you got here.
The sound of footsteps approaching brings your attention to the closed door. Keith appears from behind it, looking much more frazzled and unkept than usual. His hair is a bit messy, he’s not wearing the usual concealer under his eyes and his collar is askew.
“My love! You're awake!” He rushes over to you.
“Keith! What the hell did you do to me? Where am I?!”
He shushes you as he caresses your cheek. You want to scream at him, fight against your restraints, yank yourself away from his touch. But for some reason, as soon as those thoughts enter your mind, they fade away.
“Everything's alright, dear. You're safe now. I'm sorry about the ropes, but there was no other way. I'll take them off once they're not needed anymore.”
There is nothing sane in his gaze. His eyes are big and alert and his smile is too wide for comfort.
“Where are we?” you ask, much calmer than you'd like.
“Somewhere where nobody will bother us! Don't worry, it's just the two of us.”
You don't know what he's done to you, but your fear, anger and alarm are all much too mild.
“Oh! I've made you lunch! Let me grab it for you before it gets cold.”
He rushes off through the door, then returns with a plate of food and a fork. The sight and smell of it makes your stomach grumble. For how long were you out?
“I hope you like it! Open wide!” Keith holds some of it out in front of you.
Thoughts of turning away or refusing the food pass through your mind, then leave just as fast. You reluctantly open your mouth.
Even when he's crazy, he manages to make infuriatingly good food. You do not complain about being fed the entire plate. If you want to try to get out of this situation, you'll need the energy anyway.
“You ate everything! Good job!” he praises you cheerfully.
Then, he looks down at the fork in his hand. His eyes flicker between it and your mouth for a moment. Until they eventually settle on you as he brings the fork near his face and licks the part that's been in your mouth. Once his tongue reaches the tips of the tines, he sticks them entirely in his mouth.
You stare at him, dumbfounded. Before you can say anything about it, he sets the fork back on the plate and turns to leave.
“I'll bring you a glass of water! Can't let you get dehydrated!”
What the hell was that? How far gone is he?
You finally get your brain to cooperate and attempt to struggle against your bindings. Unfortunately, they're tight and secure. Looking around, you can't spot anything sharp enough to cut them.
When Keith returns, he's brought back not only your glass of water but also a small satchel. You eye it curiously as he helps you drink.
And once it's done, he sets down the glass and opens up the satchel. It's full of herbs, some of which he places in the bowl with the others. That mind number scent hits you again. Any thought you'd had of escaping is beginning to blur.
As if reading your thoughts, Keith answers. “Just a little something to help you relax! I know you're probably quite stressed.”
He puts the satchel away and picks up a book instead. “How about I read you something? That way you won't be bored!”
You want to say no, you want to reason with him, ask him to let you go, convince him none of this is necessary. But none of it leaves your lips.
“Okay,” you say instead.
- - -
It's been two days since Keith locked you up in this house. He's fed you and kept you hydrated. When he's not been taking care of you, he's been keeping you entertained or simply chatted with you.
Perhaps it's your fault you've ended up this way. You ignored the signs that he wasn't doing well. You weren't a very good partner overall.
This morning he made you heart shaped pancakes with strawberries. It was kind of cute.
Perhaps you don't need to escape, perhaps he will snap back to reality and release you himself. The two of you aren't good for each other.
- - -
Four days have passed since Keith brought you here. He untied you from the chair but kept your wrist handcuffed to his to make sure you don't run away.
It's a pretty nice vacation home. Apparently you're in the mountains. The view from the balcony is stunning. Although it gave you a bit of a fright when you woke up here four days ago, it isn't so bad.
Keith still insists that you let him prepare meals, despite you being able to help now. You can't believe you treated him so coldly before. When he discovered you had bruises on your wrists from the rope, he cried and kissed them better.
At night, when you get ready for bed, he asks if he can cuddle you. If you say no, he keeps his distance. When you do give him permission, he holds you tight and whispers that he loves you. He smells sweet, a bit like burnt herbs.
- - -
It's been a week since the start of your little vacation. You took a walk through the forest this morning, hand in hand with your beloved boyfriend. He told you about the plants that grow here and which ones are safe to eat. He's so smart!
When you got back, you made lunch together. He’s been a bit down and anxious the past few days, but today he was in good spirits. Though he still won't tell you where he got the new perfume he's been wearing. It's so sweet, it makes you want to hold him close constantly.
Now that it's evening, you're both sitting on the couch, cuddling as you watch TV. Keith holds you against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. You feel safe here.
“I love you,” you murmur.
He stiffens at once. Thinking there must be something wrong, you pull away to look at him. A mixture of shock and joy battles on his features.
“I love you too!” Tears are spilling from his eyes.
You laugh and cup his face, holding it still so you can kiss away his tears. Your boyfriend is so sentimental. His hand brushes over your chin, silently asking you to lean down. His lips quiver against yours, soft and uncertain. You press in lovingly.
Even the taste of his lips is sweet.
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I've never posted any sort of analysis anything, especially for Link Click, but this just kept rattling around in my brain and I needed to get it out somehow.
SPOILERS FOR LINK CLICK BRIDON ARC / YINGDU CHAPTER EPISODE 4
I've heard multiple people hypothesizing (before Episode 4 came out) that Cheng Xiaoshi receives his power from someone else (maybe his dad, maybe the strange blonde woman, who knows), but I'm starting to believe that he had his power from the very beginning.
Which, yeah duh, he uses it in Episode 4 and it was pretty obvious that it was his first time diving. He was scared and had no idea what to do.
However, Lu Guang has two very telling reactions during this time.
The first is apprehension. This is paired with his thought: 'That means what comes next is...' Lu Guang has been a bundle of nerves this entire trip, but this feels different. All this time he's been trying to protect Cheng Xiaoshi from getting hurt (diverting them away from going with Liu Xiao in the airport, and then full-on slapping Vein's hand away when he reached for him), while still trying to remain true to the original timeline. This feels like something that he knows will hurt Cheng Xiaoshi that he can't avoid.
Which, we also already know about. If he's trying to remain faithful to the original timeline, then First Cheng Xiaoshi would have probably gone looking for a picture of the fire (and almost certainly would have picked that same picture of the fire as well). And Lu Guang’s apprehension leading up to it means that he knows that it's vital, but that it will hurt Cheng Xiaoshi all the same.
This leads into Lu Guang’s hands.
The only other time I've seen Lu Guang clasp his hands like that is in Episode 5, while (as Chen Xiao) Cheng Xiaoshi is crying his eyes out under the dying body of his host's mother.
In that episode, Lu Guang tried to get Cheng Xiaoshi to leave the photo as soon as the requests were fulfilled. He knew the pain that Cheng Xiaoshi would go through if he stayed and tried to persuade Cheng Xiaoshi to leave as soon as he could. But, Cheng Xiaoshi inevitably found out and refused to leave, living through the awful tragedy while Lu Guang listened to it all from the present. He can't do anything but hold his own hand (possibly imagining that it's Cheng Xiaoshi’s?) and try to comfort Cheng Xiaoshi with words.
In the Bridon Arc episode, it seems he's already mentally preparing himself for Cheng Xiaoshi’s first dive, already holding his own hand and getting ready to hear Cheng Xiaoshi’s pain.
Lu Guang has been keeping meticulous notes this entire arc, and yet there are still things that are catching him off guard.
The news interrupting Cheng Xiaoshi asking about Lu Guang's power.
Xia Fei's poster changing in the airport.
Meeting Liu Xiao.
The fork in the road taking them into a dead end, which leads to Vein's appearance.
Presumably: Lu Guang passing out
So the ending of this timeline is uncertain. Variables are happening that didn't occur before (and probably only adding to Lu Guang’s stress, trying to keep them all straight).
Back to Cheng Xiaoshi’s first dive. Lu Guang knew that it was coming and that it would be painful. But he didn't expect it to happen the way that it did.
My theory is that Lu Guang was intending on doing some sort of 'divination' that led into them clapping and him guiding Cheng Xiaoshi around the fire. However, Cheng Xiaoshi clapped his own hand, which sent him into the photo alone, making this another one of those events that are different from the first timeline.
6. Cheng Xiaoshi entering the photo of the fire by himself instead of with Lu Guang.
This is revealed through the second telling reaction that we get from Lu Guang.
That isn't just shock or surprise. It's fear and abject horror. He knows what Cheng Xiaoshi is facing and that he's facing it alone. He can only imagine how scared he must be.
All Lu Guang can do is wait, unknowing, until Cheng Xiaoshi comes back. And then, he has to try to pick up the broken pieces of Cheng Xiaoshi and put him back together.
Ultimately, this scene was supposed to be when Cheng Xiaoshi discovered his powers (possibly even believing that Lu Guang gave them to him), but it happened in the worst way possible.
#link click#shiguang daili ren#shiguang dailiren#shiguang#bridon arc#bridon spoilers#bridon chapter#yingdu chapter#link click yingdu#yingdu arc#yingdu spoilers#cheng xiaoshi#lu guang
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Unveiling love
Hii, I hope you enjoy this one-shot about Lando with the trope brother's teammate :)
Have you ever gotten drunk on someone's presence? That intoxicating feeling when you can't stop laughing, and a smirk refuses to leave your blushing face. For you, that someone was Lando Norris. As your eyes meet across the crowded room, you quickly avoid his gaze, hoping to hide the feelings that have simmered since the first moment you saw him.
You met Lando when he became your brother Carlos’s teammate at McLaren. Fresh out of high school and eager to follow Carlos through his F1 journey, you hadn't expected to catch feelings for Lando. Carlos noticed your growing affection and made you promise never to date one of the drivers. So, despite your heart's wishes, Lando remained just a crush. Little did you know, Lando noticed you far more than you thought.
Even though Lando was engaged in conversation with other guests, his mind was fixated on you. From the moment he first saw you with your shy smile and curious eyes, trailing after Carlos, he was captivated. But as Carlos's sister, you were off-limits. Maybe it was the confidence of finally winning a race or the magic of the night, but he decided he couldn't hold back any longer and followed you outside.
The cool breeze caressing your skin was a poor substitute for the warmth you wished came from Lando. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't hear the balcony door open or the footsteps approaching. "Enjoying your night so far?" Lando's voice startled you. "Uh, yeah, I just needed some fresh air," you answered, feeling the blush rise on your cheeks, hoping it was hidden by the darkness.
"So, what were you thinking about that it was so important you didn't hear me walk in?" Lando asked, stepping closer, his presence enveloping you.
"And why should I reveal my thoughts to you?" you replied, trying to hide the fact that you were thinking about him.
"A truth for a truth?" Lando offered. "Okay, I was actually thinking about someone, someone who has been on my mind for a long time, but I don't think he and I would ever have a chance," you confessed.
"Well, whoever it is would be a fool to turn you down. You're extremely funny, smart, and always treat people nicely. Not to mention, you're gorgeous," Lando stated passionately.
"You’re just saying that to be nice," you whispered, avoiding his gaze again, trying not to get your hopes up.
"Y/N, never for once think I would lie to you," Lando said, his hand gently cupping your cheek.
The tension in the air was palpable. "It's your turn to answer my question. What did you come out to the balcony for?" you asked, trying to understand his motives.
Lando stayed silent for a moment, looking into your eyes before answering, "To do this."
Before you could process his words, Lando pulled you into a passionate kiss, pressing you against the balcony railing. His presence clouded your mind, and the only thing you could do was pull him closer and kiss him back until you both were breathless.
As you both took gulps of air, staring at each other, the question of what this meant hung between you. Lando was the first to break the silence, interlacing his hands with yours. "Look, Y/N, I've known I wanted to be with you since the moment you walked into my life. I've been afraid of hurting you or our relationship with Carlos, but I'm tired of not loving you openly for fear of what others may think or say."
"Lando, no one has ever had my heart and love, not like you," you confessed, a smile so big it hurt.
With the night sky as your witness, you both knew this was the beginning of something beautiful, a love story ready to unfold.
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Are you mine? - Chapter thirteen: "I've never known a normal day in my entire life"
Summary: Spencer's mother moves in with her son and wife. This is exactly when things start going south for the Reids. Word count: 9.750 Warning: Sad Spencer, violence, sadness, angst. A/N: My poor babies... at least Spencer isn't alone during these sad times.
Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist
Previous chapter | Next chapter
(Y/N)'s point of view
After Hotch's departure and everything that it meant, I really wasn't at my best. It took me a few days to get into the right mental state again. I was scared the entire time, honestly. I kissed my babies every morning before dropping them at daycare, thinking anything could happen to them while we were at work. And Spencer knew it. The way he looked at me, he was worried, I could tell. But he wasn't saying anything. He wasn't dealing with it. He was waiting, I guess. Waiting for anything to happen, and force us to deal with what was happening around us.
And work, of course, didn't help at all. A few weeks after Prentiss' arrival as our new Unit Chief, Mr. Scratch targeted our team, again. That time, he kidnaped and tortured Tara's brother, Gabriel, while brainwashing and drugging a poor guy called Desmond Holt, and convinced him he was Gabriel.
It was one of the hardest cases we had to deal with in the last months, 'cos that guy didn't know he wasn't Gabriel, he was sure he was Tara's brother. And he knew everything about them. Even their secret handshake. I couldn't even begin to think what Mr. Scratch had done to Gabriel to get all that information. It was everything I had been afraid of in the recent weeks, starting from the second Prentiss said:
- "I've placed protective details on Hayden and Joy, Sofia and the babies, and Will and the boys. We need to assume that Mr. Scratch is targeting this entire team."
I refused to make eye contact with Spencer that minute, though I could feel him watching me. I knew our workline was dangerous, and things could get serious from one minute to the other. I just didn't need a reminder. So I did what I do best. I focused on work and refused to think of anything else until the case was solved.
Ironically, I became Tara's rock during the investigation. I remained by her side, or at the other side of the mirror while she interrogated Desmond. I repeated countless times how everything was going to get better. That we were going to find her brother Gabriel safe. I stayed with her father and buried any fear I had about my family's safety 'cause it was the right thing to do at work.
But I was getting fed up with what Scratch was doing to our team. He was making me feel a fear I didn't know before, and he was pushing us, playing with us, and getting away with it every single fucking time. That's why, when we got ready to catch him and bring Gabriel back safely, all I kept thinking was killing that son of a bitch.
- "Please, chipmunk, be safe."- Spencer whispered as he checked on my bulletproof vest, the same way he did every time we were out on a mission.
- "You too, Batsy."
- "Always."- he replied and kissed the tip of my nose. I made sure his vest was secured as well and looked at him.
- "You are making dinner tonight, by the way."- I reminded him, just to get out of my head for a moment.
- "So we are eating take-out tonight"- he joked under his breath as the rest of the team gathered outside the elevator.
- "Healthy and balanced dinner for Raven. I'm expecting veggies, protein... Maybe some fruit."- but it wasn't the time or the place to be sweet. We had to focus. The elevator's door opened and we all got in but Tara. She had a short and emotive conversation with her father before stepping. As soon as the doors closed and we started descending, Emily said:
- "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting tired of losing to this rat-faced son of a bitch."- I turned to her and nodded, biting my lips not to curse, 'cos I knew Tara was going through hell, and we had to keep our shit together. - "He's not gonna take anyone else away from us, not on my watch. Am I clear?"
- "Yes boss."- I replied and Prentiss nodded at us.
- "Let's get to work."
Like every cliché unsub we had tracked, Mr. Scratch hid Gabriel in a warehouse. Who would have known they'd pick such an original location? We got there with a SWAT team, ready to deal with whatever trap that mother fucker had set for us. Spencer found out as soon as we cleared the perimeter where the controller of the main trap was. He just needed to figure out how to dismantle it, which did in a matter of minutes and we were lucky to bring Gabriel back safe and sound. However, we didn't get even close to catching Mr. Scratch, and my fears became stronger. That mother fucker was out there, and he knew who we were, our weaknesses, and how to get to us.
- "Mommy, can we go to the park?"- Raven asked me when we picked her up from my mom's that evening. We made it out early, and I wanted to enjoy every single second of the day with our babies.
- "Of course!"- I replied as Spencer secured her in her chair in the car, and I did the same with baby Vinny.
- "And then we could grab some ice cream."- my husband suggested.- "And maybe a new book to read before bed."
- "Yes!!"- our daughter has always been excited when it comes to a trip to the bookstore. She is very much like her dad, and I love that.
- "Are you available for dinner sometime this week?"- I read Frank's text as I sat behind the wheel, and Spencer looked at me almost scared.
- "Please don't tell me we have a case."
- "No, Frank wants to meet for dinner this week."
- "That'd be nice."- Spencer's answer surprised me. I don't know why I thought he wouldn't be in the mood to meet with the guys considering the stress we were under. - "We could use a fun evening with our friends."- which was true.
- "I love Uncle Frany!"- Raven yelled from the back seat, making me chuckle. Call me crazy, but knowing my daughter and my best friend had a close godfather/goddaughter relationship had always made me happy. Those are the sweet, beautiful things in life I didn't want anyone ruining. Never.
Spencer's point of view
I tried to keep my wife calm and happy. I kissed her and told her I loved her as many times as I could every day without transgressing any PDA rules at work. I cooked dinner three times a week, did every one of my chores, played and read bedtime stories to my children, went grocery shopping, and made love to my wife looking into her eyes and telling her how much I loved her. But work didn't help, and neither did reality. Life was getting harder, messy, and more challenging, no matter how hard I tried to make it all perfect.
Over a month after putting my mother into a new facility in Houston, Texas, to be part of an experimental group of investigation that had incredible research and promised to stop and basically heal patients with Alzheimer's, I got a call that ended my mental peace and brought me back to reality.
We were working on a case in Yakima, Washington. I was all alone in the police station, staring at the board with the information of the victims, waiting for (Y/N) to come back with Rossi from the field, where they were talking with the parents of the unsub's first victim. We were making progress, but we were against the clock, as usual. My head was going a hundred miles an hour, trying to think of ways to locate the unsub, until my phone rang. It was my mom.
- "Hi, Mom. I was gonna call you a little bit later. How are you..."
- "Spencer! You have to help me!"
- "What?"
- "They are missing! Someone took them!"- my mother's voice was frantic, almost hyperventilating.
- "Who's missing?"- I narrowed my eyes, trying to imagine who could be taken from a clinic, and how.
- "Pat and Grace! I haven't seen them in days! I need your team to help me find them!"
. "No, Mom. Pat and Grace live in Las Vegas. You're in Houston, at the Anderson clinic. We moved there last month, remember?"- I could feel my heart breaking as my mother spoke those words. She was having an episode. She was absolutely lost.
- "In... in Texas? I'm living in Texas?"- her confusion was palpable, as well as my defeat. She wasn't getting any better. If anything, she was worse.
- "Yeah, in Texas."
- "Oh... I'm sorry Spencer. I'm... not feeling very well, my head... maybe I should lay down for a while."
- "Absolutely. A nap sounds like a really great idea. Why don't you get a little bit of rest and I'm gonna call you back later, ok?"
- "Yes... how are the kids? Raven is going to school already?"
- "They are great, mom. I'll tell you everything later, ok? Just get some rest. I love you."
- "I love you too, honey."
I stared at the phone after I hung up, thinking - overthinking sound about right- about all the calls I had had with my mom in the last month. Until that second, I was sure she was doing better, but clearly, she wasn't. The complete opposite, in fact: my mother was having an episode and she sounded as lost as possible.
- "Is everything all right?"- JJ walked into the room holding two cups of coffee. I kept staring at the phone in my hands as she moved closer to me and gave me one of the cups.
- "It's my mom."- I confessed and placed the phone back in my pocket.- "She was confused. There she was and she was convinced that her friends had been kidnapped. She wanted us to investigate."
- "Spence, I'm sorry."- she whispered and stared at me with honest sadness.
- "This was my biggest fear, you know, about getting her into the clinical trial. I think she's getting a placebo."- it wasn't something I would talk about much at the moment, but right there, I just needed to get that off my chest 'cos it was shocking, and it hurt like a stab in the heart.
- "But you said she was getting better."- JJ moved even closer and kept her eyes on mine.
- "She was. Or I... I was... I don't know, I was fooling myself into thinking that. Maybe I wanted to believe it so much that I was experiencing the placebo effect, too."- I rambled thinking I had been a fool.
- "Is there anything I can do?"
- "I don't know."- I sighed and felt JJ wrapping her arm around me. So I hugged her back and felt like a failure. No matter what I did, I just couldn't help my mom.
- "I'm so sorry, Spence."
- "Hell...o."- (Y/N) opened the door and stared at us hugging. Rossi walked along with her and raised both eyebrows. JJ let me go and stared at my wife in panic like she caught us doing something awful, I don't know why.
- "Everything ok?"- David asked and I shook my head.
- "I just..."- I opened my mouth and kept my eyes on my wife, who looked like she needed an explanation. - "I just got a call from my mom, she was having an episode."
- "What? Seriously?"- (Y/N) seemed as affected as I was by the news.
- "Could you... excuse us for a second?"- I moved to her and held her hand as I walked her out of the room, to a more private place. Rossi and JJ nodded and didn't say a thing, but JJ smiled at me sadly when I looked at her before I closed the door behind my back.
- "What happened? What did she say?"- my wife asked and sat on a desk in the bullpen of the police station. I stood close to her, staring at my hands, and biting my lips, trying not to cry.
- "She thought her friends were taken hostage. She didn't know where she was, she thought it was Las Vegas. I hadn't heard her so lost in months..."
- "Honey..."- my wife wrapped her arms around my waistline and moved me closer to her body. I rested my head on hers and simply sighed. - "You should put an eye on her."
- "I know..."
- "Maybe you could bring her home. Take care of her until we decide what to do next."
- "We have a baby and a toddler. You are under enough stress, I could never..."- (Y/N)'s eyes stopped me from saying another word. She moved and looked at me with such love and care I nearly cry
- "Remember when I said "In sickness and health" while getting married? It didn't just mean your health, but our family as well."
- "Technically, you didn't say that. We wrote our own votes, and you quoted Emily Bronte."- I argued and made her roll her eyes.- "I don't wanna put you through something that I know won't be easy, chipmunk."
- "We are not together just when things are easy, we are stronger when life gets shitty."- my wife whispered and lodged a small kiss on my lips.
- "What did I do to deserve you?"- the question wasn't meant to be said out loud, I just asked myself the same thing at least once every day.
- "You deserve all the good things that happen to you, Spencer."- (Y/N) replied and caressed my cheek as she stood in front of me. - "Now let's work and we'll talk to Prentiss when the case is solved."
We were lucky to wrap up the case in a few hours, so as we flew back home, I made two cups of coffee and walked to our Unit Chief to do the unthinkable.
- "Coffee?"- my voice shook as I stood by her seat and handed her a cup.
- "Oh, you are a lifesaver."- Prentiss replied with a warm smile and I sat in front of her, rearranging the words in my head in the process. And, of course, she noticed.- "What's going on?"
- "I need to take some time off."- my voice was soft as I went straight to the point. I wanted to explain to her what had happened with my mother while she was gone, but at the same time, I didn't want to share more than what I had to with her.
- "Ok. When?"
- "As soon as we get back."- my reply surprised her, her jaw dropped and she kept blinking, processing what I was saying. - "I normally wouldn't do this, especially with everything we have going on and the new agent, but it's my mom. I don't think the clinical trials are helping her."
- "Spence, I'm so sorry."- Em whispered and her hand found mine as she tried to comfort me.
- "I need to see for myself what's happening in Houston, and, you know, talk to the doctors, try to figure out what's next."
- "As you should. Did you talk to (Y/N) about this?"
- "Yes."
- "Are you going alone?"
- "Yes, she has to stay with the kids, and help the team."- Prentiss nodded. I think she could read on my face and gesture how I didn't want my wife to carry the burden of my mother's disease.
- "Listen, we'll be fine. And we'll support (Y/N) with the kids. You take as long as you need."
- "Thank you."- it was the only thing I seemed to be able to say.
- "I have one condition. I need you to check in every day, no matter what. I need to know you're ok."
- "It's understood."- tears filled my eyes and threatened to fall as I fought to keep them at bay. I didn't want to cry in front of Emily, or in front of anyone. I just wanted to get home and put an eye on my mother.
(Y/N) knew I was keeping things to myself. That's why that night, after our babies were in bed, she wrapped her arms and legs around me as we lay on our bed and I immediately buried my head on her chest.
- "You are not alone, Spencer. I love you."- she whispered and kept running her fingers through my hair very slowly.- "Please, let me in."
- "I'm just worried about my mom."- I whispered and bit my tongue.
- "Remember last time something really bad happened and we thought Emily was dead?"- oh no.- "You tried to be the man you thought I needed, kept all your emotions to yourself, and ended up getting Dilaudid behind my back."
- "Chipmunk, I'm not getting Dilaudid."
- "I know, I know. I'm just saying... I don't want you to think you have to be strong for me. I just want you to share how you feel, the way I tell you when life is too shitty for me."- I stayed quiet, all I could hear was the beat of her heart against my ear as she held me close. I knew I had to let my wife in, but I was still very scared she was going to think I was weakling.
- "I don't want to overwhelm you."- that was the best I could do.
- "Give it a try."- she replied.- "I'm with the FBI. I've seen shit."- she replied and I chuckled for a second. She kept me close to her, making me feel like she was able to keep me together. - "We were best friends for many years before we became a couple, and back then you used to tell me everything. Don't hold yourself back now. I'm here to help you, to love you, no matter what."
Those were the words that broke me. I could feel my walls going down as the tears started falling from my eyes.
- "I don't... I don't know how to fix this."- I finally confessed and simply sobbed in my wife's arms, not knowing what else to say, or do. I had no idea what to do with my life, with everything. What was the use of being so smart if I couldn't help the ones I loved? It was so frustrating and unfair.
- "It's ok, honey bunny."- my wife kissed my forehead and wrapped her arms tighter around me.- "Just let it all out."
I don't know how long I cried in my wife's arms. A part of me felt it was embarrassing, but honestly, it actually made me feel better. I did as she asked and let it all out. All the tears and all the fears.
- "It's just so unfair."- I whispered once I had calmed down a little. (Y/N) had her arms locked around my body and I hid in her neck. - "She already has a mental disease, why did she have to get a second one? Life has been hard enough for her! Now I have to sit here and just watch all of our memories together fade away forever."
- "I'm so sorry, honey."- my wife kissed my face and held me tighter.- "I'm so sorry this had to happen to you."
- "And it's just worse knowing it could be my fate as well."- I confessed and felt like crying again.- "I mean, it's in my genes, like schizophrenia, and we would never know until I start showing the first signs. Or I could have passed it to our babies... and one day they'd..."
- "Shhh, don't go there, honey. Don't. There is nothing we can do about it, not about you, or about our kids. It is what it is and we can't change it."
- "But this is not what you deserve!"- I whined and started sobbing again.- "This is not what I wanted to give you."
- "But I wanted you. All of you. Not just the good part. The hot doctor with all the answers. I wanted this other side too." - I didn't know what to say, so I just sighed and cried as she held me.
- "I wish..."- I whispered after a few seconds.- "Things were easier."
- "We can't complain."- she replied and I could almost hear her sweet smile as she spoke softly.- "So far, we've had fun. We've been healthy, we have smart babies, we've got the chance to travel. We have friends who love and support us. We just need to get a bigger place and we would be peachy."- I chuckled between tears at that last remark.
- "You really wanna move?"
- "Don't act all innocent, we've talked about this before."
- "I know..."- I replied and moved from her neck to look her in the eyes.- "I still have to make peace with the idea of leaving this apartment. But I know we will have to do it eventually"- and she just nodded.
- "We don't have to figure it out all tonight, honey bunny."- and she kissed the tip of my nose. - "How about you try to get some sleep now? You have an early flight tomorrow."- I nodded and sighed as she cuddled me underneath the covers of our bed.
- "I love you so much, ma cherie."
- "I love you more, honey bunny. Thank you for trusting me. I will always be here to help you. No matter what. You don't have to carry any burden on your own."
And as hard as it is for me to realize, she was right. I wasn't alone.
(Y/N)'s point of view
Spencer's departure to Houston wasn't easy. We both knew what he was going to face during that trip, and it was clearly something for longer than just a weekend. Mom helped with the kids, as she usually did, plus Garcia and Emily were my rocks. They took care of the little things I didn't have much time for, like packing my own lunch, helping me clean and even changing a few diapers.
- "I'm not sure this is why you moved from London"- I said to Prentiss one morning she showed up earlier to give me a hand getting the kids ready.
- "I mean, changing baby clothes with vomit wasn't on this year's bingo card, but I'm not complaining."- Em replied as she held Vincent in her arms after finally getting him dressed and we walked to the kitchen.
- "I'm sorry."
- "(Y/N), please. I love to help. It's extra time we get together, and I feel like I've missed so much in the last few years."- Prentiss kissed Vincent's cheek a few times and added- "Garcia kept me updated with the news, but it's not the same as watching your kids grow up. I mean... you and Spencer have two kids already! I feel like it was yesterday you two were in denial of your feelings and we had to push you to face them."
- "Those were the days."- I said as Raven ran into the kitchen holding her bag and opened her arms to me.
- "Up mama!!"
- "Are you ready for school, Birdy?"
- "Yes!"
- "Let's make sure I packed all of your favorite snacks then, and we'll be ready to go."
- "When is dada coming back?"- Raven asked as she wrapped her arms around my neck and rested her head on my chest, completely melted.
- "He will come back very soon, birdy. We should call him tonight and make sure he knows how much we miss him."- I kissed the top of her head, and added some more apple slices with peanut butter in her lunch bag.
- "Can we ask him to read us a bedtime story tonight?"- Raven asked innocently, as she stayed in my arms.
- "Sure! Now let's go to the car before we are too late."
Emily helped me load the car, lunches, kids, and my go bag, which I knew wasn't going to be of any use while Spencer was out of town. I was staying in Quantico, helping from my desk until my husband was back from Texas.
- "See you in a while at the BAU."- my friend said with a big grin after waving goodbye to my kids. - "I have to help Stephen with some paperwork. He is still getting used to this new position."
- "Bye Em, thank you"
Stephen Walker had joined the team the day Spencer left for Houston. He had been transferred from the Behaviour Analysis Program, the BAP. He was charming, with over 20 years of experience working for the Bureau, and a friend of both Prentiss and Rossi. They were thrilled to have him, especially if we considered we were one agent down and I couldn't join them on the field.
Besides, he helped through a very shitty time in the BAU: Rossi's birthday. The man hated that date, and each year we tiptoed around it. That year was even worse considering Tommy Yates, the serial killer he had a deal with on his birthday, was out on the loose. He was supposed to give Rossi the name and location of one victim every day on that date every year, ergo why Papa Pasta hated that date so much. Yates had killed over 40 victims that we knew, but he claimed it had been over 100. I think Rossi felt guilty not to get more names and give peace to the families of so many missing girls. That year, Yates started killing again around Rossi's birthday, and instead of going back to jail, he ended up dead in David's backyard.
I'm sure Rossi will never enjoy his birthday. He will always think of the lives he couldn't save. I get that feeling. No matter how many lives we actually save.
- "Chipmunk, I don't know if I can do this"- Spencer whispered at the other side of the line. He had been gone for two weeks and we were both exhausted. I was lying on our bed, Raven was asleep, softly snoring next to me and Vicent was in my arms as I breastfed him one more time.
- "Why don't you bring her here?"- I suggested one more time. I had told him to do that at least five times since he was away, but he always refused.
- "I told you, it would be too much work."
- "We can handle it! She is my family too and I wanna help."
- "I know, ma cheriè but..."
- "But what?"- Spencer sighed at the other side of the line, clearly trying to gather the right words to explain his mind.
- "I don't think it's fair."- he finally whispered, and that was not what I was expecting to hear.
- "Fair?"
- "Yes..."
- "Life isn't fair, Spencer. You know that."
- "But having to take care of my mother it's not what... it's not the life I wanna give you."- it was a little heartbreaking hearing that. No matter what I did, Spencer still couldn't understand I was there for him, through sickness and health.
- "So you think we are just taking care of your mother?"- I asked him and chuckled.- "Spencer Walter Reid, one day my mom will be sick and old and we will have to take care of her as well, and probably my father too, 'cos Phoenix would never be that kind of son."
- "I am not sure it's the same thing, chipmunk."
- "Hey! My parents could have an awful old age!"- I joked and I could almost hear him smiling as he said
- "It's not a competition, baby"
- "I know it's not! I'm just trying to make you understand this is not a one-way. It's not just me helping you with your mother, we are a team, and we tackle these issues together. Today it's Diana, tomorrow Sofia, who knows!"
- "What about the babies?"
- "What about them?"- I whispered and looked at them. Raven was still asleep, hugging the stuffed unicorn Mikey had gotten her and Vincent was slowly falling asleep against my breast.
- "Having my mom around would make things harder for us and for them as well."
- "We can manage. We are a team. We handle far worse things at work daily. And we can hire a caretaker for your mom. That way she wouldn't be alone while we are out."- there was silence on the line for a few seconds. Spencer was most likely trying to think of all the scenarios that could happen. Until he finally whispered.
- "You are not gonna let this go, are you?"
- "I'm never going to stop fighting to help you, especially when you are being stubborn."- I smiled and bit my lip thinking I just wanted to have him back home as soon as possible so I could hug him and kiss him.
- "I love you, Mrs. Reid."
- "I love you too, Mr. Reid."
Spencer came back on a Thursday. He and Diana took a cab home while I was at work. I got some groceries to make dinner and picked up the kids from my mother's. We turned Vinny's nursery into a guest bedroom for Diana, considering our baby wasn't using it at the moment. We were going to be cramped, but maybe it was the way I could finally convince Spencer to move into a bigger place. A house outside town, where our kids would ride their bikes and play with their friends like I had done growing up.
- "Dada!!"- Raven ran to Spencer as soon as I opened the front door, carrying Vincent and the groceries with me.
- "Birdy! Look at you!"- he held her in his arms and lifted her from the ground, kissing her cheeks and wrapping his arms around her. - "I missed you, Raven."
- "Missed you too, dada"
- "Guess you were just asking for you."- Spencer rushed to me and grabbed the baby carrier with baby Vinny in it from my hands and kissed my lips, still carrying Raven in his arms. He was literally holding his entire family at the same time.
- "Welcome home."- I whispered and hummed against his lips as I felt him smile.
- "Where is my beautiful granddaughter?"- Diana's voice took us back to reality. Raven nearly jumped from Spencer's arms and ran to Diana.
- "Memaw!!"
- "Raven Marie Reid, when did you get so tall? You are the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen!"- I smiled as I looked at the sweet scene in front of me. Diana kissed our daughter's cheek and turned to me with one bright smile that slowly turned into a frown.
- "I'm so happy to see you again Diana."- I said with a big smile before I noticed how bad things were going.
- "Whose baby is that?"- she pointed at Vincent with harsh eyes.- "Did you have another baby and never told me? Why are you excluding me?"
- "Mom, mom"- Spencer took a step closer to Diana and softly moved Raven out of the way.- "This is Vincent Spencer Reid, our baby. You've met him before. We actually went on a trip together."
- "Don't try to play me for a fool, Spencer. I had never seen that baby before!"- I moved my arm and grabbed Raven's hand as she looked at the scene unfolding in front of her in pure confusion.
- "Come on Birdy, memaw is tired from the trip. Let's go to your room and play for a while before we make dinner."- she didn't question me, which I will always be thankful for. I walked with her and Vinny and left Spencer alone with his mother, to help her clear her head. If it was even possible.
That brief moment was the first approach to how difficult the following weeks were going to get.
Spencer's point of view
Dealing with my mother was harder than I imagined. And I had imagined the worst. The first night she didn't recognize Vincent and for a solid hour, she argued I had been lying and keeping her in the dark about my family 'cos I was ashamed of her. Ashamed as the time I had put her away in the mental facility when I was eighteen.
And it didn't get easier from there.
While I was away, (Y/N) interviewed some caretakers and selected three. The first one I hired lasted one morning and left before I could even leave the house to get some groceries. She claimed my mother was impossible, and that she couldn't help her. It didn't matter how much I begged and promised she would be good, that poor woman stormed out of the apartment and never looked back.
The second one lasted two days. I was hopeful and even decided to return to work. That morning, Mom looked great. The caretaker arrived and we left to drop the kids at daycare and then drove to work. Me and my wife felt hopeful things were going to work out. We were trying our best, of course, things had to go well.
- "I'm gonna get you a nice cup of coffee."- (Y/N) said as soon as she left her things on her desk, right in front of mine. - "I missed having you here."
- "Trust me, I missed the sight from my desk the most."- I held her hand and stole a small peck from her lips before she walked to the kitchenette, smiling and blushing. I followed her with my eyes for a few seconds before I started unpacking my bag.
- "Hey! Welcome back!"- JJ's voice took me from my task. She sounded happy to see me as I turned around and gave her a bone-crushing hug.
- "I missed you so much!"- I said with a big smile and then turned to her companion. - "You must be Walker"
- "It's great to finally meet you"- he said with a warm smile- "Your wife and the team talk so much about you, Dr. Reid."
- "Please, just call me Spencer. And it's great to finally meet you too, I've heard nothing but wonderful things from you. (Y/N) told me how much of a great addition to the team you've been."- I turned to look at my wife, who was still in the kitchenette, now talking with Anderson.
- "Speaking of wonderful things, how is your mom doing?"
- "She is ok, you know. We have good days and bad days."
- "So, are you still going to Houston to visit her on the weekends?"- but before I could explain there was no need for me to do that anymore, 'cos she was living with us, my cell phone rang.
- "Excuse me"- I said to JJ as I quickly picked up.- "Dr. Reid here."
- "Dr Reid, I need you to come back home! Your mother flooded the entire apartment!"
- "What?"
- "She keeps saying I'm spying on you, and she is locked in the bathroom!"
- "All right, stay there. I'll be right..."
- "Please hurry!"
- "I'm on my way, ok? Thanks."- I didn't even turn to JJ or Stephen, I just mumbled "Sorry, guys, I have to go," as I ran to my wife and grabbed her arm.- "There's an emergency and I have to go home."
- "What happened?"- her eyes were wide opened in a second, alarmed
- "Mom flooded the apartment. The caretaker called me."
- "I'm coming with you!"- but before she could start walking to her desk to grab her thighs, I held her hand and stopped her.
- "No, chipmunk. I'll take care of this.
- "Shit! Take the car!"- she ran to her purse and brought me the keys.- "And if anyone asks, I'll tell them a pipe broke in our apartment, ok?"- I nodded as I felt her hands on my face and her lips on mine, for a short second.
- "Love you."
- "Me too"- she whispered and smiled as I started running again, making my way back home.
The entire place was a disaster. I had to talk with our downstairs neighbors and compromise on paying for any flood damage in their place. The caretaker quit, arguing my mom had threatened to kill her. And my mother had a crisis. I don't think I had ever seen her act that way. She wasn't herself anymore. Clearly, no med was helping her.
- "Is she gone?"- Mom rushed out of the room, almost hyperventilating.
- "Mom, what did you say to her?"
- "She was trying to get information from me. Kept asking questions!"- the way mom slammed our front door and stood against it, like stopping anyone from entering the place (though I knew no one was trying to do it) was... not the worst that happened that day.
- "Of course she was. She's supposed to!"- it was ten in the morning, and I was already losing my patience.
- "I told you to be careful about the people you bring into this house. There are spies everywhere!"- I sighed as I stood in front of her, trying to calm myself down.
- "She's not a spy. She was here to help you."
- "Shh! She might still be out there listening."- she whispered, nearly in tears. She was worse than dealing with my kids, and she was my mother. I had to take several deep breaths to stop me from yelling- "Don't ever let her come back in here again, please. Promise me!"
- "I will promise you that because she is never coming back! She walked out!"- and even though I tried, I ended up screaming anyway, 'cos after a few days, my mom was already driving me crazy.
- "Good. Because we can only trust each other now. Nobody else. Just you and me."
I stared at my mother as she opened the door and peeked out to the hall, to make sure no one was there, spying on us. I already knew delusions may occur in middle- to late-stage Alzheimer's. Confusion and memory loss can contribute to these untrue beliefs, but one thing is knowing the theory and another very different is dealing with your mother in that state.
(Y/N) and I had talked about what to do in that kind of situation. How to handle a crisis. I knew I didn't have to take offense. I had to listen to and try to understand Mom's reality. Never argue or try to convince her. Instead, I had to acknowledge her opinions. But at that minute, all I could think of was "What am I putting my children and my wife through?"
Saying that things were going to be harder than I thought was an understatement. Apparently, I had been in the dark about how bad things were getting for her Alzheimer's... or I had been in denial for a very long time. The second option was more likely the correct answer, though I didn't want to recognize it.
But as they say, denial is not only a river in Egypt. Back then I was sure I could help cure my mother's disease one way or another. I just needed to put my mind to it. I had already gone to the extreme with this thought. Bringing my mother home, going behind my wife's back, and traveling to Mexico with my personal passport instead of my FBI documents to get her some alternative medicine. I was all over the place, and it was showing.
Mom went to her room and I continued cleaning the water mess in our living room. Some of my books were ruined, and some of the kid's toys were all wet. It was overall, a massive chaos I didn't want my wife to witness. And yet, I knew keeping it from her was way worse.
- "Hey honey. How are things going back home?"- (Y/N)'s sweet voice on the other side of the line made me relax my shoulder muscles immediately, almost in relief.
- "It's..."- I looked around and sighed- "It's bad."
- "How bad?"
- "Andrea, the caretaker, quit as soon as I got here."
- "At least she waited for you to get there."- my wife whispered, trying to make me smile, I think.
- "She was the third to leave us in a week."
- "We just haven't found the right one."
- "Stop being so positive, please."
- "What do you want me to say, honey? "Take your mom back to Hustoun?" No way! We are doing all we can to help her! We knew this wasn't going to be easy, and she is just settling in."- my wife paused and sighed.- "Shit, JJ heard me."
- "Where are you?"
- "On the jet. We are going to Tampa."
- "Oh shit, we've got a case."- I rubbed my hand against my face, thinking I was failing the team and my family at the same time.
- "We do."
- "Ok, can I be on speaker during the briefing?"
- "Turn on the computer, I'll have you patch in on video call with Garcia."
- "Thank you, ma cherie."
- "I miss you."- she whispered and my lips curled up in a tiny smile as soon as I heard her.
- "Me more."- I replied in a lower voice and took a deep breath.
- "Me most. But right now, by the way, JJ is looking at me, I'm guessing I have to explain to the team what is going on back home."
- "Ok chipmunk. I'll be here, waiting for the briefing. Love you."
- "Love you too. Take good care of Diana."
As soon as I picked down the phone, the anxiety kicked in again. That whole day, my entire body didn't seem to relax. I was on edge. My mother stepped from one emotion to another. Each time I talked to her, I didn't know who I was going to deal with. Before I took the call from work for the briefing, she reappeared in the living room and apologized for making that mess.
- "Your books are ruined. And the kid's toys too.."
- "It's ok."
- "No it's not. That's not the grandma I wanted to be for them." - she sighed, holding Raven's soaking teddy in her hands. It broke my heart 'cause I knew she hadn't done it on purpose.
- "You want to maybe lie down for a little while and get some rest?
- "Yes, that's a good idea, honey. I need rest."
But an hour later, when she came back from her nap she was absolutely lost and angry. She didn't recognize her own scrapbook. The one she started in high school. Her eyes were fearful and angry, and her hands kept shaking. She knew who I was, but didn't trust me completely. It was so painful I did the only thing I could think of.
- "It's time for your medicine."- and by medicine, I meant the experimental drugs I had gotten in Mexico behind my wife's back from a doctor I met in Houston, named Nadine Ramos.
- "No. No. It tastes terrible. What if it's poison?"- Mom started arguing right away, and I had to hold both her hands to try to calm her down.
- "Mom, it's not poison. Remember when you first started taking it in Texas? It helped. You felt so good that we were able to go on that trip to San Antonio."- she just stared at me, with a blank expression on her face. I used my softest voice, to try and help her calm down.- "It's not poison. Just wait right here."- I added and walked quickly to my and (Y/N)'s room. I had hidden the bottles in a sock in my drawer, which was clearly a sign I was doing something wrong by keeping it a secret. I added three drops to a glass of orange juice and gave it to her. Mom just stared at me, suspicious. Like I would poison her.
- "Are you going to stand there and watch me?"- she asked seriously
- "Yes."- I replied and smiled at her, 'cos there was a part of it all that was funny. My grown-up mother acted exactly like my four-year-old daughter would. She drank the whole glass, looking disgusted by it, and then opened her mouth to show me she had swallowed it all.
- "You don't have to do that."- I almost chuckled as she did, but then, she broke my heart.
- "Of course I do. I have to do whatever you want."- and just like that, she locked herself in her room again.
While she was away working on a case, (Y/N) called the agency and managed to get another caretaker to come home for an interview with me for the position. Of course, my mother was a complete disaster around her, threw a tantrum and left, slamming the door behind her back as she left me talking on my own.
Luckily, nurse Cassie Cambel was an angel, and decided to take the position and help us with my mother despite the awful first impression mom made. She was aware of how challenging things were and didn't hesitate. She even said she would get someone to take the night shifts. She gave me hope. I called my wife as soon as she was gone and gave her the good news. Then worked the case for a while and talked to the team, because no matter what was happening at home, we were still trying to catch a serial killer.
And it was all good for a good hour until I realized there was something odd going on, Mom had been quiet for too long. That's always a bad sign with the kids, and I figured it was also a bad sign with my mother.
When I finally found her, locked in our ensuite bathroom, she was throwing the medicine I had struggled to get in Mexico for her.
- "Mom, don't do that! Don't do that! Stop that!"- I nearly jumped and tried to take the bottles from her hands, but the liquid was mostly gone.
- "Leave me alone! Stop, stop! Give it back to me! Ohh!"- Mom was yelling and fighting as if her life was in danger. I fought to stop her, but it was useless. We ended up fighting for them on the bathroom floor. I didn't want to hurt her, but she kept holding onto those glass bottles and screaming. She finally gave up but stood up and ran to the door, trying to escape our apartment. I followed her and stopped her by the door. I grabbed her waist and then her wrist, trying to make some sense of what was happening.
- "Mom! Why did you do that? Why?!"
- "I hate that stuff! And I hate you!"- she yelled with so much anger that if I didn't know how sick she was, I would have been brokenhearted.
- "Do you have any idea what I went through to get that medicine, Mom?"- I yelled at her with the same amount of anger for a second, but I did my best to gather myself and try to talk to her in a softer tone. - "It can't be replaced. Do you realize that?"
- "Good! I want to go back home!"- she yelled as tears of desperation started falling from her eyes
- "This is home!"
- "No, it isn't! I want to go back to where I was before!"- she pleaded, like a little girl
- "You said you hated Houston!"- I screamed, frustrated by the entire conversation.
- "No, I want to go back to where I was before before! Before!"- she let go of my hands aggressively and slapped me right on the cheek. She stared at me with such anger, that I knew she wasn't herself. Still, it hurt. She raised her hand to hit me again and I stayed still, not arguing, not fighting back. Leaving my cheek right there, so she could hit me one more time, and all the times she'd like.
Some things never change. Especially the bad ones, I guess. When I was a kid, I had grown used to her episodes. How she sometimes hurt me. I knew she didn't mean to, so I never held any hard feelings against her. But it was a painful flashback of my childhood. One I didn't want my kids to grow up with.
During our fight, I managed to save one tiny bottle of medicine. One wasn't going to help much, which meant I had to get more. I didn't know if that medicine was actually helping her. I didn't know what could. The fact was, I was desperate and I would have done anything to help bring my mother back to herself.
If that had happened a few years earlier, when I was still single, still living on my own, I would have flown to Mexico in the blink of an eye, no questions asked. But at that moment, "anything" had some limits. And those limits came with my wife and my two kids. I had to think carefully about what I was going to do next. 'Cos I couldn't hurt them.
My phone buzzed on the table and I sighed. We were still working on a case, and I had to focus. But I was wronged. It wasn't case-related. It was JJ.
- "I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to."- I read those words and replied "Thank you" text and stared at her words on the screen for a little while. I knew things hadn't been easy in the last few years, but it felt so good to have a friend like JJ and a family in the BAU. At least we weren't alone. I knew my wife was with them and they were going to support and comfort her. Us. They got our backs.
- "Well, that was just what I needed."- my mother's voice took me from my thoughts. She walked out of the hall and smiled at me. I looked at her, confused from the dining room table, where I was trying to get some work done.
- "Uhmm..."
- "My nap. It really did the trick."- she explained and gasped, standing next to a couch. - "Oh, my goodness. My scrapbook. Oh, I've been keeping this since I don't know when. I have no idea how it got here.
I just stared at her in silence. She seemed to be herself. She knew who I was, and where she was and even got excited to see her old scrapbook. Was it the medicine? Was it the nap? What made that change?
- "Ohh, honey. What did you do to your face? It's all red."- and she had no recall of what had happened
- "Probably bumped into something."- I used the same old excuse I always used when she noticed any bruises on me growing up.
- "Oh, you need to be more careful. It's really awful."- she carefully touched my face as she sweetly smiled, and stood in front of me, holding her scrapbook close.
- "I will."- I whispered
- "You know, you always were so clumsy. Smart as a whip. But I used to call you Crash. You were always bumping into things."- mom told me the story of how I hid how much she hurt me from her, and walked to the closest couch. I stared at her, trying to understand why this was happening to her, and how I could stop it. What was the use of being so smart if I couldn't help my own mother?
- "Honey, what is this?"- she asked after a few minutes in silence.
- "Oh, it's a ticket stub."- I said as I sat next to her on the sofa arm
- "What is that?"
- "A ticket stub? When you go to a concert or a movie you get a ticket so they'll let you in. (Y/N) has a large collection with all the ticket stubs of the shows she has been to."
- "Maybe I could help her make a scrapbook with those."- Mom suggested and smiled at me- "She is so sweet, letting me stay here with you and the kids."
- "I'm sure she'd like that."- I replied and kissed the top of her head. She turned the page and kept staring at her memories.
- "You saw Elvis in concert?"- I asked her, surprised. That sounded like a good story I had never heard.
- "I don't know. I did many things when I was young."- she simply replied. - "Who is he?"
- "Elvis Presley."- I explained, disappointed that her memory was failing again. - "He's a very famous rock and roll singer."- all her memories were fading and I couldn't stop it even if I tried. What a failure of a genius son.
- "Ah! Oh, my gosh!"- she got incredibly excited all of a sudden and pointed at the cutting of a tightrope walker with something glued to it. - "I'd almost forgotten about this!"
- "What is that?"- her excitement made me smile, I hadn't seen my mother that happy the entire day.
- "When you were a little boy, I took you to the circus, and after that, all you could talk about was that you wanted to be a tightrope walker when you grew up."- that story didn't ring any bell in my head.
- "I thought I wanted to be a magician."
- "You did. That was later. This was first."
- "Really? I don't remember that at all."- was she making it up? Was it real? I wanted to think she knew exactly what she was talking about.
- "Oh, no wonder. You were no more than 3 or 4!"
- "What's on its head?"- I asked her, pointing at the scrap. And she just laughed.
- "It's you!"
- "That's me?"- I moved to take a closer look, and yes, it was a tiny picture of me, glued to the clipping.
- "Yes. You glued that on there yourself."
- "Why did I do that?"
- "Well, here."- Mom grabbed my hand and showed me my wrist. - "See this little scar right there on your wrist? That's from when you fell when you were trying to balance on our backyard fence. You were so determined to make it the whole way. And I'll never forget looking out the kitchen window, watching you out there as you were trying to make a balancing pole from a broomstick. Calculating how long it should be and making adjustments. My little budding genius."
Mom caressed my arm as she told me that story, and it warmed my heart hearing her telling it in so much detail as she could actually see me. And the fact she had said the words "I'll never forget" as if it was some kind of promise. Like she could decide which memories she could keep and which ones to let go.
- "Did I ever make it?"- I asked her, I needed to know more about that story.
- "No. And you were heartbroken. You see, the problem was, you were so smart, you were so brilliant, you really believed that you could solve anything if you just put your brain into it. But that tightrope... No, you just couldn't figure that out. But you were meant for bigger things, Spencer. Now, how do you tell that to a 4-year-old boy?"
How could I tell that to my 35-year-old self? There are things I can't figure out, no matter how smart. Maybe I should have made my peace with that thought earlier.
Later that night, I brought my mom a cup of tea when she was already in bed. And she didn't know who I was. I didn't know how I was going to do it. Help her and keep my own mental sanity in the process. How much should I tell my wife? She was going to find out anyway, no questions asked. I shouldn't keep her in the dark, life had shown me that had always been the wrong path to follow.
I don't know what time it was when I felt (Y/N)'s hand on my arm. I had fallen asleep on a rocking chair close to the bed and had tied one end of a scarf on mom's wrist and the other to mine, so I would know if she moved. My wife smiled at me and leaned in to kiss my cheek.
- "Welcome home."- I whispered and caressed her cheek. - "I missed you."
- "Me too, hon..."- she hummed and kissed me one more time. - "Wanna have a cup of tea and tell me about your day?"
- "Why don't you get some rest first? You are just getting home..."- I whispered and untied the scarf from my wrist to walk her out of the room. - "Where are the kids?"
- "I asked my mom to take care of them for the night. I was coming late and I didn't want to take them out in the middle of the night."
- "That was a good choice."
- "So, how was your day? And be honest."- my wife stood in front of me and I just sighed.
- "It was... challenging."
- "You can give me the real version, Spencer Walter Reid, I can take it."- (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she stood in front of me, in the middle of the hall. I tried to find the right words to explain to my wife about my day. But as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I broke down into tears and fell into her arms.
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#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#criminal minds#babymetaldoll writes#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#criminal mind fix it#Spencer Reid needs a hug
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Smallest Drop - Part 3
Summary: Tav knew she was falling for him in some ways but she didn't realise just how bad it had become until she got shot in the leg while killing a vampire hunter for him.
Meanwhile, Astarion really doesn't understand Tav and her strange solutions to problems and ignoring it really isn't working well.
I've already planned a part 4 because I'm addicted. Tav is not mentioned by name.
Content Warnings: She/Her Tav
Word Count: 3k words
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
Though she tried her utmost to appreciate every environment they explored (if only because she would otherwise go crazy), she couldn’t find much she liked about the swamp. Not even with its sweetened flowers, warm sunlight, and strange sheep.
She was almost a thousand percent sure those were polymorphed humans but she refused to worry about them yet. Whatever had created them surely would reveal itself and for now, she focused on the bigger problem before her.
A monster hunter standing before her with a friendly smile on his face and a laugh echoing across the swamp as though he hadn’t threated one of her companions.
He may not know what he’d done but it put her on edge regardless.
She made sure not to look at Astarion, a subliminal concern in her. She refused to give too much attention in case it drew his gaze over to those glinting red eyes or faded but very obvious scars nestled against pale skin.
Instead, she stepped forward and demanded all the attention she could with a loud voice and a smile. “Sounds awfully boring,” she said. “To hunt one creature for so long and not make any progress. Hardly even a challenge or thrill to just slowly camp somewhere and wait.”
The hunter chuckled and she seethed. “The first thing you learn in my line of work is never underestimate your opponent. This spawn has been eluding me for quite some time.”
She tried to keep her expression neutral but struggled. Even in her best moods, she couldn’t hide what she thought and the anxiety in her chest was stronger than ever. Maybe he would think the worry in her face showcased a fear of the creature rather than of him.
“Only a spawn?” she asked. “Pity. Not like it’s a real vampire. There’s little glory to be had in such a hunt.”
He frowned at the accusation in her tone and raised an eyebrow, perhaps confused by the hostility in her voice.
Before he could answer though, Astarion drawled, “I don’t know. I’m sure a vampire spawn could still rip your throat out if he felt like it.”
She couldn’t help a slight smile. Though perhaps not happy, he didn’t sound nervous which meant they fight should be easy. Lae’zel, bored as she was, never complained about further bloodshed and undoubtedly this hunter had no experience facing a gith sword.
Her own bloodthirstiness surprised her. Rarely did she feel the desire to spill blood quite as intensely as she did now and no guilt followed. This man dared to threaten somebody she cared for and she immediately moved to murder.
She really needed to be careful of the strange hold Astarion had on her.
“He is right, unfortunately. They’re only weak when compared to their masters. During the day we have the advantage but when night falls, you will not find a more dangerous quarry.”
She pretended to wince. “Awful for somebody like you to hunt something so fierce when you appear barely able to fight one of these sheep. Should I not worry about one of these spawn creeping up on you when you least expect it?”
The hunter appeared thoroughly offended and Lae’zel snorted in what she had started to learn may be a laugh.
“Well, we’ve stayed alive so far so perhaps we can focus on that.” Astarion reminded her of a cat playing with a mouse. But the cat also hovered far away from the potential battle, uncertain.
“It’ll be safer for you to keep patrols at night,” the hunter warned. “Just in case it tries anything.”
“I don’t think I will.”
He tried to be friendly and helpful but now he simply frowned. She almost felt bad for turning rude and abrasive, noticed how her response made him a little more uncomfortable but not enough to reach for a weapon. Her hand however drifted closer to her blade.
Morals said she should provide him a false lead and send him on a wild chase far away from her party.
Her brain said he may be a threat. If he doubled back or found out about her deception, he could sneak into their camp and take Astarion before she noticed.
And her heart told her if she let him go, Astarion wouldn’t relax again. He may not even stay in the area if he thought the hunter lurked nearby – too jumpy and flighty to stick around their group.
Her morals would need to keep quiet until she dealt with this.
“Maybe we should take him up on his recommendation,” Astarion suggested. “Or deal with this threat now.”
“Take him out before he hurts anybody,” she said and it was an agreement.
The hunter waved his hands quickly. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend hunting a vampire spawn if you have no experience. You may be a strong fighter but I doubt you’d be able to challenge one.”
“I wasn’t speaking about Astarion,” she said. “If he wanted me dead, he’s had ample opportunities so far.”
Astarion hummed, almost chuckling. “You’re not wrong. It’s lucky that you’ve proven yourself far more useful alive.”
The hunter’s gaze slowly drifted between her and Astarion and her grip tightened on her blade. “That’s impossible,” he said as he reached for his crossbow. “There’s no way you’re –“
She stepped forward and slipped the blade free. Steel sunk deep into flesh and he choked out a garbled, surprised sound as his throat split open. Disgusting.
Blood sprouted from his neck and down his chest as he fell backwards, eyes wide with shock. But she had been too confident and she didn’t notice how he’d managed to get his crossbow out; how he pulled the trigger even as the last of the dark red pulsed from his throat.
The bolt stabbed directly through her thigh. It drove straight through the leather and pierced the flesh beneath even as the others drew their weapons to assist in a battle she’d already won.
She collapsed to one knee as his body thumped against the ground with a few ragged gasps. This was scarcely her first time being shot by a crossbow bolt but something must have coated the weapon. Poison or enchantment, she didn’t know but the pain and the weakness spread fast through her body and her blade fell onto the soft grass below.
“Are you alright?” Wyll arrived at her side first, concerned.
“I’m fine,” she reassured him through gritted teeth. “He’s dead right?”
“From what I could see,” Astarion said with a dramatic sigh. “Well, that’s a pity. I wanted to kill him myself.”
She ignored him and put a bit of pressure on the site of the injury. Her muscles burned fiercely as she decided to leave the bolt in for now. Rather not pull it out when she didn’t know what clung to it.
She slowly stood and blood pulsed down her leg in thick rivers. It slicked the area between her armour and left awful, sticky trails.
No visiting the strange old woman it would appear. She refused to explore a swamp when her leg felt like this.
She stepped forward and hissed in pain, just about collapsing once more if it hadn’t been for Wyll’s support on her back. Definitely something strange about this one.
“We do have spare health potions,” he said as he looked at the bolt. “But this has some magic on it. We should get back to the camp to make sure it isn’t going to deal any long-term damage.”
“I like that idea,” she admitted with a strained and uncomfortable laugh. “It’s a little sore.”
Over the past few days, she’d had many close calls with many weapons but this wooziness… she hated it. The air around her swam as she limped her way along the ridiculously long road back to their camp, reassuring her companions with soft words which held no purchase. Even they could see the way the energy drained from her body with each step.
She accepted only the occasional of assistance from Wyll and tried to make it appear as though the injury didn’t bother her.
Honestly, it had been her fault entirely. She should have noticed the crossbow and been more aware of when he pulled it free. Anger clouded her vision then and still did as they walked back.
The audacity of such a man who dared to threaten her friends… he agitated her even now when he lay on the floor, destined to be anything more than food for the various animals in the area.
Astarion didn’t return her occasional glances nor did he offer help.
She hoped he hadn’t become upset at her actions. Though he may have wanted to kill the hunter himself, she had seen an opportunity and taken it before anybody got hurt.
Well, aside from her.
The enchantment on the bold got removed swiftly but her body needed time to recover and the evening passed uncomfortably. Every muscle burned and her breaths came in soft, quick succession. She tried to keep her complaints quiet and not bother any companions. She had the antidote; she had a bandage. Now all she had to do was wait.
And wait.
The night’s hours stretched long as she lay in her tent. She prayed for sleep to find her but the ache in her bones and the burning pain refused to allow her an opportunity forward.
The footsteps distracted her from her twisting and turning. For somebody so akin to sneaking around, Astarion had stopped doing it after he’d given her a heart attack and she ended up headbutting him. He’d complained non-stop over it for at least an hour but now he didn’t sneak around anymore.
He stepped through the entrance of her tent, his hair haloed in moonlight. The night suited him as well as the day did. He looked practically ethereal as he drifted into her tent, every bit the predator she’d been warned about.
“Well, don’t you look like an absolute mess.”
She rolled her eyes and tilted her head away from him. “And it’s all because of you.”
“Me? It’s hardly my fault the man had a poisoned crossbow. You could have dodged it, you know. I’ve seen you twist your way out of worse hits than that.”
Almost always because of luck but she wouldn’t tell him as much. Instead, she offered him a small smile and tried to stop the tremble in her limbs. At least the pain felt lighter than before.
“Aren’t you meant to be cured or whatever by now?” he asked.
“Shadowheart said it’ll heal up by the morning at latest. I just have to last until then.” Exhausted of lying down, she pulled herself up into a sitting position, leaning against her travelling chest with her legs stretched out. “I’m surprised you came to visit. Are you worried?”
He put his hand to his heart and smiled. “You wound me. Of course, I’m worried. It’s not every day I find somebody dedicated enough to slice a man’s throat in my name.”
“The others would have done the same to keep you safe.”
“Nonsense. I wouldn’t trust any of them with catching a spider.”
She laughed. Though he complained, they were growing on him and she didn’t even need to prompt him to join their impromptu gatherings anymore.
“They like you.”
He ignored her comment and instead spoke of something else. “I believe my old master sent the hunter. He wants me back under his thumb, as I expected. This won’t be the only person he sends and not all will go down so easily.”
“I won’t get distracted next time then,” she laughed.
“Distracted?”
She gestured at him, knowing better than to voice the protectiveness for what it was. She didn’t understand it much either. “I’ve always told you how pretty you are. Now look what those sharp eyes have done. I couldn’t stop looking at them.”
She could play his game too. Offer him compliments and flattery instead of truth when he felt vulnerable.
“You can’t distract me with compliments,” he scoffed.
“Oh, I absolutely can.”
If she had the energy to do so, she would have continued but the wound pulsed in pain and she turned her attention to it, pressing against the soft skin to try and make it stop. The red bandage twisted her stomach into knots but it had stopped bleeding after a while.
Astarion appeared close to her unexpectedly, close enough to kiss with the smallest smirk on his face.
“You must try to stop yourself from getting hurt like this,” he said, trailing the faintest brush over her thigh. “It’s a waste of perfectly good blood. I almost couldn’t contain myself when I saw it running over your skin.”
She tried to laugh but it came out more exhausted than anything. “I’ll try but I make you no promises. My blood isn’t only yours.”
“Not yet. Perhaps the next time you give me the opportunity, I’ll drain it all so you can’t waste it.”
She tilted her head to the side to bear her throat, an exhausted but teasing smile in place. “I did say you could feed off me this morning, right? You’re welcome to take a bite now if you’re hungry.”
He appeared to not be able to tell if she joked or not. She smiled to tell him she was. Even if she had the blood to spare right now (and honestly, she didn’t), she doubted Astarion planned on feeding from her when he already felt as though he owed her some strange debt.
She’d noticed that about him. He only propositioned her when he felt as though he had to give her something in exchange.
It made her concerned.
He scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me enough. I can smell that rancid poison in your veins and it’s awful.”
She groaned and rolled her head back. “I hate this. It’s worse than that stupid apple I ate when we first entered the swamp and just as awful as when the goblin managed to sink its axe into my arm the other day. I thought I caught something from that at least.”
He chuckled. “Well, whatever magic was, it was likely intended for me so it probably won’t kill you.”
“If it’s going to kill me, I’d like it to get it over with. This pain is horrific.”
She expected him to leave soon but she took the opportunity to tap the spot beside her, asking him to sit down. What better company could she ask for? Elves didn’t sleep and despite pretending, Astarion certainly never allowed himself to meditate for very long at all.
“You’re very demanding, aren’t you?” Regardless, he took a seat and they lapsed into silence, punctuated only by her soft and somewhat shaky breaths.
She wanted to ask about the hunter. Wanted to know more about his old master and why he would be so desperate to claim a spawn back. Vampires could create as many spawn as they wanted to and he didn’t need to keep one at all times. It felt like a great deal of energy.
But as the silence stretched out, only one really bothered her enough to make her speak.
“Are you alright?”
“Obviously,” he laughed. “I’m not the one who got shot, was I?”
“No but I wouldn’t want to know a hunter is after me. I don’t want you to feel like you’re unsafe here.”
His smile turned bitter and unhappy as he answered that, his mouth twisted into a scowl. “Safe? Nowhere’s going to be safe as long as Cazador remains alive. The reach of a vampire lord goes far beyond what you may think.”
She may be a little light-headed for a proper conversation but she kept conscious, if unable to stop herself from leaning against his side. He was so cool. It felt amazing against the feverish nature of her skin and she wanted to hug him so badly.
“If he tries anything, I’ll make sure he doesn’t take you.”
He frowned at her and shifted his weight, not quite moving away from her but also not wholly embracing it. She hoped he would move away if he felt uncomfortable, as he did to a few of her other casual touches.
“You’re greatly misunderstanding the power he wields,” Astarion warned, his voice soft. “It would never be as simple as what we’ve seen so far. If he wanted to, he could stroll into this camp and whisk me away before you even noticed what had happened.”
Her solutions were a little scattered so she went for the easy one, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together before she could think about it.
“There,” she murmured. “If he tried to take you away now, I’ll notice immediately.”
Astarion’s muscles turned strangely tense and he made a small coughing sound, muttering something about how she would lose a hand then. She didn’t really hear it. Sleep crept up on her fast with the relaxing touch of his cool body and she lowered her head to his shoulder, eyes drifting closed.
When she woke in the morning, she lay alone in her tent beneath almost every blanket she owned and feeling brilliantly better. The pain faded and she felt ready to take on a hag.
Which incidentally is what they ended up doing. She spent the longest time afterwards wondering if she’d dreamed the previous night or not, distracted enough to nearly spill a bottle of unknown potion all over Gale. After a multitude of apologies, they made their way out and if Astarion’s hand brushed against the back of hers for a second, she didn’t mention it further.
Taglist: @venus-wrts @stephmundo @cassiopeia-adaar @escapistoftherealworld @scarletrosesposts @mavix
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Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @potterheadquinn
"If y'all don't stop messing with him, I'm going to be the one losing my shit, now stop!"
I'm so irritated at Noah and Nick for messing with Jolly again for the umpteenth time this week. It's been hell having to deal with all their crazy shenanigans on top of having a head cold that has sucked the ever loving life out of me, and I normally never yell, but right now, my head is about to explode.
"Noah, you're supposed to be the responsible one!" "Says who?" Noah cries beneath a smile so big even I can't resist grinning. "Says you!"
Nick knocks into Noah, trying to catch Bryan's water bottle throw that ultimately fails, and falls halfway to the floor.
"Dude!" "Sorry," Nick laughs, distracting Noah from your conversation.
I roll your eyes and stomp my foot in irritation, walking off to find a place to cool down.
"It's really okay, y/n. It's not that big of a deal." I sigh, knowing he was going to come out and say that very thing. "It is to me," I reply crossly. "I know, and that's why I love you."
My body stiffens at those three words. I love you. Best friends forever, you're the one who's got my back, I trust you with my life kind of love, right? Jolly's large hand presses against the middle of my back, instantly calming my nerves. I take a deep breath and try to relax, realizing that I'm allowing my anxiety to get the best of me.
"You okay?" I turn and face Jolly, meeting his wide chest first before looking up. "You look like shit." "Wow! Tell me how you really feel, Jolly, dang!" He pulls me against his chest, wrapping his long arms around me, and instantly, I feel better. "You look like beautiful shit," correcting himself. Throwing my arms around his waist, I laugh into his chest, covered by his black band merch hoodie; the same one I slept in last night. "You should wash that hoodie. It smells like me." "Why do you think I'm wearing it?" My eyes narrow as I stare up at him "You like smelling like me?" "I like smelling you." "Dude?"
Jolly squints, realizing what he just said and how weird it sounded. I resist the urge to laugh but fail, pushing away from him and out of his embrace. "You such a weirdo," I chuckle, shoving him playfully. "Yeah, maybe, but that's why I'm your best friend, right? Because you like the weirdos?" leaning down and kissing my forehead. I snicker. "If that's what helps you sleep at night." "Hey, now!"
Jolly picks me up, and I squeal as he swings me around, putting me down after a few rounds. "I'm gonna go back to the hotel and shower, then lay down. I'll see you later." I go to leave, pulling my hand out of Jolly's, but he holds on a little longer, refusing to let go. "Uh, I kinda need my hand, Jolly." He grins and lets go, but there's a flash of something that sweeps across his eyes that I've seen before, just never towards me, and it sends my mind into overdrive of overthinking. "Get some rest, sweets. We have a sold-out show tonight, and I'm gonna need you," he says with a half smile.
I catch a ride with Bryan back to the hotel and think of nothing but Jolly's odd behavior. That weird look I saw in his eyes has my head in a tangled mess. It was something never meant for me. I was his best friend. Not his love interest.

The next two days are hell. My cold worsens, the next venue we go has no water, Nick somehow manages to lose his box of guitar picks, and Matt has food poisoning. We somehow manage through it, and by the end of the show, all of us are spent. I just about collapse into Jolly's arms once his guitar is off and he's wiped himself down, freeing himself from sweat.
"There, now you can pass out," he offers, holding out his arms to me. I fall completely into him, wishing I really could just pass out and sleep for days. "You're really warm, sweets," Jolly tells me, the concern thick in his tone. He feels my forehead and groans. "Y/N, you've got a fever." "I know," I say quietly, as he picks me up, and I throw my arms around his neck and bury my face into his damp hair. He smells of the stage, his shampoo, and a light woodsy scent. Holding me securely close to him, Jolly starts walking, and I'm too out of it to ask, let alone care where we're going, which I assume is the bus.
"Is she alright?" I hear Folio ask in passing. "She's burning up. I'm taking her to the bus." Moments later, I feel myself being lowered into my bunk and the tugging of my leggings coming off. I moan in protest, unsure of what's happening. "Relax, y/n it's just me. I need to lower your fever," Jolly informs me. My body eases, and I let him do what he's trying to do to help me feel better. Once he's satisfied after removing my hoodie, Jolly lays me back down, tucking the blankets tightly around me. "I'll be back with some water, medicine, and a cool towel, baby," he says softly, kissing my forehead. I cry the moment he leaves, not just because I don't feel good, but because of how much Jolly loves taking care of me and how much I love that he does. I fall into a deep sleep and don't wake up until late the following day.

Two weeks into the tour, and things are going a lot better. Six shows in with only one messed up one gives us all hope that the next ten will be just as good. Matt suggested opening "meet and greets" back up just for this tour to see how things would go with it, and unsurprisingly, they all sold out within the first thirty minutes of ticket sales. Because my boss likes to torture me, Matt volunteered me to be the line greeter and usher in each VIP that lined up for their group photo, which wouldn't have been so bad if I actually liked people. But I don't. And Matthew knows it. I look over at him and see him smiling, and all I want to do is give him the middle finger right now, but I don't. Instead, he puts two fingers together to form a heart and holds out for me to see, grinning. "I hate you", I mouth at him, and he laughs. I smile too and shake my head, letting the next person go through. I look over at Jolly and give him a smile, and he and Noah together give me a posed laugh with a thumbs up.
"You both are such dorks," yell over to them. "Maybe, but at least we're fun, dorks," Noah jokes. "Yeah, y/n, we could be dull boring dorks who are mean," Jolly chimes in. "Definitely in another life," I agree.
After the meet and greet, I'm on my way to the bathroom before the show and turn the corner, only to find Jolly standing in the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the wall with his back towards me. I'm about to say something when he leans in, and that's when I realize he's kissing someone. I move to the right a little and see a shorter than me blond in heeled boots, leggings, and a Bad Omens crop top, kissing my best friend. My heart stops. My eyes swell up with tears. I can't think straight. What the fuck is happening? I turn around quickly and run, hearing Jolly calling after me as I wipe the tears away.

"Why are you freaking out?" "I don't know! I don't know why I reacted the way I did and ran off Nick! I mean, it's not like the two of us are together! Jolly's not my boyfriend. He's my best friend!" "Most people think you are together though" he says casually, slipping his stage jacket on. "What? Really?" "Yeah. At least the crew does." "Why? Jolly and I don't do anything to make people think that we're together! What the hell!" "What are you talking about, y/n? When you're together, you and Jolly can't keep your hands off each other!" "Not true!" pausing briefly to think and few instances come to mind. "No? What about last week in the pool at the hotel we were staying at?" "What about it?" Nick frowns. "Really? The picking you up, the whispers, the giggles, the hand holding. If you hadn't gone back to the room with Matt I would've sworn the two of you had spent the night together." I roll my eyes. Nick doesn't know anything. "Well we didn't. Jolly and I flirt with each other, sure but it's not like it means anything." "Yeah, okay, whatever. If the two of you aren't together, then just let it go. Let him kiss or sleep with whoever he wants to." "Wait, what? Sleep with?" Nicholas gives me the most annoyed look. "I'm not saying they're sleeping together, or that he's sleeping with anyone! Shit, y/n, relax, that's all I'm saying," he says, resting his hands on my shoulders.
Scowling at Nick, I drop down onto the couch, folding my arms over my chest. The thoughts running through my head are on a never ending loop and I can feel the panic starting to rise. The door swings open, and Noah and Jolly both walk into the green room hyped and ready to go. One glance at my friend, and my heart skips a beat, but all I can see is him locking lips with a little miss-heeled boot girl in the hallway. Jolly knows something is wrong, given the expression on his face and he makes the attempt to say something, but before he can I look away quickly and stand up. Walking past both of them without a second glance, I head out to find Matt, finding him where he should be.

"What's wrong with you?" He takes one look at me and reads me like a book. I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose to keep myself from crying and allowing the panic to overtake me. Matt stands up and comes over, rubbing his hands up and down the sides of my arms. "Hey, it's okay, just breathe, y/n," he says calmly. "Deep breaths. Everything's okay." I try to do what he says, but it's hard at first. Eventually the pain in my chest subsides and I can take a full, deep breath. "You good?" Matt asks, bending his knees to look at me. "I think so," I nod, once he releases me.
He's hesitant to return to the computer, but does so once I reassure him I'm fine. I take another deep breath, wipe my face, and move closer to watch Matt work. I'm in the process of learning his skill, but know I'll never come close to being as good as him.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks without looking away from the screen. "Yes, but not really." Matt chuckles. "I feel that." "Have you heard anything going around about me and Jolly?" "You mean like if you two are together?" I sigh. Shit. "Yeah." "All the time. Crew gossip a lot and run their mouths about shit they have no clue about. I'm one hundred percent sure they're the reason for most of the drama and rumors that get started about this bad. Not the fans." "That wouldn't surprise me," I grin softly.
Matt finally looks up and over at me. "Y/N, look, you and Jolly know the truth. If the two of you are friends, then great. If you're more than friends, that's great, too. If you're only friends with benefits, then, well... that's your business." My eyes widen slightly, making Matt grin. "What I'm saying is who the fuck cares what other people are saying. Let them talk. The two of you know the truth and really that's all that matters." I give Matt a tight-lipped smile and slightly nod, knowing full well he's right. "But I will say this, if Jolly being with someone bothers you so much then you should tell him. But if you do, you have to give him a reason why." "But what if I'm too scared to?" Matt shrugs. "Then you'll just have to let him move on." I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. Turning to leave, Matt stops me.
"Just so you know, y/n, I've seen the way that guy looks at you." "And how's that?" I look back at Matt whose face is more serious than I've ever seen it. "Like you're the one who put all of the stars in the sky."

"Y/N, I'm going over Noah's room. I'll be back in a bit. Do you need anything?" "No, I'm good, thanks."
The hotel room door closes, giving me permission to let go of what I've been holding in all day; the hurt, the frustration, the anger and confusion. I cry so hard for so long that time blurs, and I forget that the hot water in the shower is even running until the bathroom is foggy, the mirror is clouded over, and my clothes are damp. I'm a mess, and I don't care. As I get into the shower, the hotel room door closes. Matt must have forgotten something, otherwise that was a very quick trip to Noah's room. There's a knock on the bathroom door. I sigh, thankful that Matt can be sweet when he's concerned, but irritated just the same.
"Matt, I'm still good! I'm just showering!" "I'm not Matt." My eyes widen. That's Jolly's voice. I haven't talked to Jolly since before the thing in the hallway happened. "Can I come in?" Every instinct is screaming now, but it's a "yes" that comes out of my mouth. The door opens and closes, and I fight the urge to pull the shower curtain back.
"Is everything okay?" I ask, scared to think that Jolly's mad at me for walking up on him in the hallway earlier. That's probably what this is about. "You tell me?" Jolly's words, his tone hit me square in the chest and I feel that sinking feeling in my stomach. "Look, Jolly, I'm sorry about earlier, okay," I blurt out, rinsing the soap out of my hair. "I didn't mean to walk up on you and, uh... whatever it was you and that girl were doing. It was an accident."
There's only silence once I turn the water off and for a moment, I think Jolly's left. He really does hate me then and I'm starting to believe I’ve ruined our friendship for good. Pulling the curtain back I gasp, both hands flying to my mouth to keep me from screaming. Jolly didn't leave. He's leaning against the sink, dark hair falling over his shoulders, arms crossed over his chest, staring at me as his eyes, deep in erotic hunger, trail up and down my naked body that's soaked and dripping with water.
"Jolly," I say softly,"unable to take my eyes off him.
Jolly's dark orbs rake up and down my body and the excitement he's feeling for me, for my body is clearly noticeable in the front of his jeans. He takes a towel off the bar and comes towards me, opening it and draping it over my shoulders. His eyes are level with my throat but fall to my small bare breasts and his tongue darts out quickly between his lips.
"Jolly, look at me," I order him and slowly he raises his eyes. All I can see is a thousand mixed emotions. "When are you going to understand that other girls don't exist for me anymore? Huh? There's only you, y/n. It's only ever been and will only ever be you."
A wave of unfamiliar heat for my best friend crashes through me, ripping away every defense I'd built over the years. Jolly's scent, his body heat, engulfs me like a tidal wave, unraveling every bit of my self control. His long fingers touch my neck and gently slide down to my collarbone, dragging across my neckline to my other collarbone and up the other side of my neck where his hand wraps around the back of it, holding me in place. Jolly's chest is heaving a little harder, a sign he's fighting his self control.
"You destroy me, y/n," he tells me quietly, almost gasping. "I want you. I want all of you. I want you inside and out, aching for me like I've been aching for you for so long."
His words are like honey dripping off the comb and right onto my heart. My breath hitches in the back of my throat as the towel falls off my shoulders and Jolly steps into the shower with me, pushing me back against the wall. His large, towering body looms over me, almost like a protective covering.
"It's never really been a secret. I've tried my best not to hide it completely from you and pretend I wanted anything more or less than you."
As I think about what Jolly is saying, I realize he’s right. All the times he could have gone out with other girls, or with the guys he's always chosen me. Why didn't I see it before? Then I think back to last week in the pool, the night Nick mentioned earlier. Jolly made it so obvious, Nick was right, but I was too blind and stupid to see it.
"You, you said you wanted friendship, Jolly..." "Yeah, I did, I mean I still do, I want to be your friend, y/n," he nods. "I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with, though. The one you chose to take into your bed, into your private world and keep trapped in your head until I consume every nerve, every cell of your being."
My knees are about to buckle from shaking so hard. I grab Jolly's arms for support and he parts my thighs with his knee, bracing it against the wall and holding me in place.
"I want to be your guy, y/n. I want to belong to you and nobody else. I wanna wake up to you every morning, tracing the shape of your lips and the curves of your body, learning every move and touch that will have it shivering and coming undone."
I hold on to his shirt as his hands trail over my face and down my neck, down the sides of my arms and over my hips until they reach my bottom and he tugs me towards him. I gasp, whimpering as the tortured expression of pure want and desire seeps into every crevice of his beautiful face.
I expect the kiss that comes. It was right there between us, waiting patiently and hungrily all this time, for the right moment, the right opportunity. What I didn't expect was the way it feels. Jolly tilts my chin, and lays his lips to mine, kissing me softly and slowly, igniting every spark inside me that I've ever had, blurring everything around us. I hold onto his wrists to keep from falling, grasping onto the sensual sensation, the one I've fought for too long, that comes roaring to life inside me. The moment I feel my arousal drip down the inside of my thigh, my lips part with a slight gasp. Jolly, with a grow of pure need, kisses me again, this time harder and deeper.
"I love you, y/n," Jolly confesses. My eyes are closed so tight, lost in the moment and the feeling that I let the words spill right out of my mouth without even thinking twice. "I love you, too, Jolly." He pulls away. "Open those pretty eyes and look at me," he tells me. I do and he smiles, tears caught in the deep corners of his warm brown eyes. "Say it again." I grin, finally reaching up to touch his face in a way that only a lover can. "I love you."
Jolly crashes his lips to mine, sliding his tongue inside my mouth as I open for him. His lazy swirl against mine has me melting against him as I sink so far into the kiss that he has to hold me up. Throwing my arms around his neck and rising up on my toes, Jolly picks me up and easily carries me out of the bathroom, our mouths still fused together, and over to one of the beds, laying me down gently.
I'm on full display for him to see. Not one piece of me is covered yet I feel no shame, no awkwardness, no fear. Love is pouring out of him, every touch of his is soft and caring, every look and motion full of gentleness and the promise of forever. Quickly stripping, Jolly stands above me, completely naked for the first time ever and the pride I feel at knowing this perfect man has loved me just as much, if not more, than I have loved him all these years makes my heart swell so much that I start to cry.
"Awe, baby, I haven't even touched you yet and you're already a wreck," Jolly chuckles, parting my legs and nestling himself between them. His mouth meets mine again, soft at first, then more intense, more urgent as my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling it back out of his face.
"I really do love you, y/n. I have for a really long time, I was just afraid you didn't feel the same as me." "I didn't at first," I say, honestly. "But then, lately, I don't know, things started changing, and when I saw you kissing that girl in the hallway, every ounce of possessive jealousy reared up in me and I knew then how much I really wanted you to be mine; to be yours."
"That kiss wasn't supposed to happen, honestly. I don't know what came over me. When I saw you, my heart stopped and I knew I fucked up. Then when you ran and avoided me the rest of the day and all through the show, I thought my heart was going to die. The thought of never having you, of losing our friendship to a stupid mistake made me realize I had to tell you the truth. I fucking love you, baby. Only you. I want you, I want us, I want everything in between for the rest of my life."
I grab Jolly's around the neck and pull him down to me, capturing his lips and kissing him with every ounce of fire and passion in me. Gathering me in his arms and holding me, we manage to roll until I'm sitting on top of him, straddling his waist. His hard erection is a mere inch or two from my wet, throbbing sex, and I'm yearning for him hard, like an animal in heat.
"You want this, baby? You want me inside you?" Jolly asks, his fingers sinking deep in the flesh of my hips. I nod, too overwhelmed with emotion to speak. My hands are pressed firmly on his chest as I wiggle around to align our bodies just right. "Tell me you want me, y/n. I need to hear you say it," Jolly begs. I smile, reaching down and grabbing his thick cock with my hand. He groans, squeezing my hips so hard, I know there'll be bruises tomorrow. "I want you inside me, Jolly. Now, later, tomorrow, next month, next year, and whatever else falls in between and after. My body belongs to you, now, so come claim it and make it yours."
I sink down on his cock, loving the way his back arches the lower I go and his mouth falls open, breathing small groans and sighs. "Oh god, oh fuck, y/n," Jolly whimpers, finally looking up at me. "Your pussy is so fucking tight. I've never felt something so good in my life."
Throwing my head back, I slowly begin riding him, keeping my hands planted on his chest as my hips move back and forth. Jolly bottoms out and I feel him fully inside me, swearing the tip of his cock is hitting my cervix with each thrust. I clench my jaw and bite the inside of my cheeks to stop myself from screaming his name, as his hands grip my waist, guiding me back and forth, over his cock until I'm a gasping, panting mess. We kiss each other until kissing isn't enough, and Jolly flips me over onto my knees climbing behind me. He pushes me down and pulls my bottom up higher, lining his cock up with my sex and slamming into me. This time I do scream, pulling a deep feral growl from Jolly's chest. His chest presses against my back as he lifts me up, wrapping his arms beneath my breasts as he continues penetrating my body from behind.
"Jolly, you feel so good inside me," I moan, gripping his arm that's holding me up. "I need to see," Jolly says, releasing me and pushing me back down into the mattress, hiking my ass up higher. His thumb circles my clit a few times and it brings the wanting feeling to cum to its peak. Running his hand up my back, he slaps my bottom lightly before rubbing his tip against my entrance and slowly pushing himself inside me.
"Holy fuck, baby, I wish you could see this," he groans, placing both hands on my ass and as he moves in and out, slowly. "It's beautiful, watching me become a part of you. I could fuck you like this for hours," he pants, picking up his pace. Moments later the only sound surrounding us is the slapping of our skin together as Jolly's pace continues. My whimpers turn into moans, that turn into slight screams as the pressure in my abdomen grows and the feeling of like I'm going to explode internally builds faster and faster.
"Jolly, I'm not going to last much longer. Oh god, baby," I cry, squeezing the bed sheets. His fingers circle my clit again and it's the very stimulant I need to bring me to the edge. "Yes, right there, Jolly, please don't stop, f-fuck, I'm cumming," I moan over an over until I cum with a sharp cry and my body shudders around him. Jolly follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside me until we're both spent and gasping for air.
We hold on to each other until our breaths are even and we're fully relaxed. Jolly turns and pulls me into him, kissing the skin of my shoulder, and spooning into me perfectly. I grip his arm that's wrapped tightly around my waist, and instantly fall asleep beneath the protection of my best friend and the promise of a forever love from my lover.
#bad omens#bad omens cult#bad omens band#jolly karlsson#jolly karlsson fanfiction#joakim jolly karlsson#joakim karlsson#bad omens fanfiction
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The Window Theory
This is kind of a two-parter, and a bit long and circular, but it all connects, so just bear with me 😁
So, I just finished my 42598302621827732263435th re-watch of S2E6. When Beez says, "I just found something more important than taking sides," and she & Gabe join hands, Zira touches Crowley's arm. Ya know, this touch:
Look at Zira's face. I think, maybe- just MAYBE- Zira finally realizes that this is what Crowley's been talking about every time he's said, "our side." He reaches out to Crowley, but because he can't actually speak at that moment, it's his way of saying, "Oh my god. I get it now. I completely understand." And if you watch a bit longer, when Crowley walks away to take Nina & Maggie out of the shop, he keeps reaching for Crowley (couldn't find a GIF of it, but it's there). Almost like he's saying, "oh, oh yes, we are going to have a VERY good talk when this is all wrapped up."
There's also an element of "we're not the only ones," and "maybe, if the Supreme Archangel of Heaven can fall for the Grand Duke of Hell, this isn't as bad as I've been telling myself it is." If Gabelzebub haven't been- smote? smited? smitten- by God or devoured by Satan for falling in love (and not being coy or secretive about it), maybe Zira is FINALLY ready to actually be with Crowley, in the open, and without fear.
But we all know what happened after that.
Yes, Metatron is a bastard. But (and this is just a bit of a theory here) in telling Zira that he (Metatron) knew about the "de facto partnership" with Crowley, and then later about the Second Coming, he gave the whole game away**. Zira thought that Heaven wasn't watching all that closely. And maybe they weren't, right up until the two of them thwarted the Nopocalypse, but looked into the records and found out what they'd been up to for millennia. What Zira knows now is that not only are they aware of it, they are fully prepared to use it as a threat against him, but more so against Crowley. At that moment, however, that's all he knows. Metatron didn't mention the plans for the Second Coming until after The Kiss™. So after accepting Metatron's offer and desperately trying to convince Crowley to come with him and failing, but before the Jesus 2.0 bomb, Zira is visibly shaken (I mean, I would be too if I had just accepted that I COULD be with the love of my life, then got kissed like THAT by them, only to be broken up with right after they told me that they felt we'd been together all along). He didn't have a plan to protect Crowley. He didn’t think he needed one because he was so sure that his offer to go to Heaven would be accepted. He figured it was a given, knowing & understanding now that Crowley wanted to be with him, and part of the reinstatement of Crowley as an angel would facilitate that.
Now that Crowley has refused, Zira doesn't know what to do. He didn't have a backup plan. And he still, at that point, doesn't really know what Metatron needs him for. It's why he hesitates to leave at first. For the first time since The Arrangement, he doesn’t have a partner. He's alone, trying to figure things out, trying to find some way, ANY way, to make this work. He keeps looking out the window, ostensibly at Crowley, but... did you notice that we're never actually shown WHAT he's looking at? I have a feeling we'll find out in S3 what it is, but for now, he's flustered, anxious, and of course still reeling from what had just happened. He looks out the window a second time, and just, like... suddenly snaps out of it. We can tell, as the audience, that there's a lot of game face happening here, because we know Zira: we know his mannerisms, his moods, his reactions to certain things. And we also know he's smart. But I digress.
Something occurs to him (or he sees something out the window), which is why he suddenly feigns detachment and goes with Metatron. The wheels start to churn, but only insofar as it has to do with protecting Crowley. When the Second Coming plans for Supreme Archangel Aziraphale are dropped, everything changes. EVERYTHING. He suddenly realizes that the whole purpose of the offer, and the chance to take Crowley with him, was a trap. Metatron knew Crowley would refuse, and having made the threat, he knew Zira wouldn’t refuse. Zira understands the offer’s true purpose was to separate them so that they couldn't prevent another apocalypse. So now, not only is Crowley's life at risk, but Earth is once again under the threat of annihilation, and he doesn't have the one person he's always been able to rely on to help him prevent it. He goes with Metatron because he knows it's the only thing he can do to protect Earth AND his beloved.
That one last look at Crowley... I don't know, maybe something had passed between them through the window that we don't yet know about. Maybe Zira just had a sudden realization that had nothing to do with what he was looking at (perhaps the bullet catch mentioned below**?). Whatever the case, hearing about Armagedd-it's-back-on was a seismic shift in his attitude. You can see it in his demeanor: he’s no longer flustered, no longer searching for answers, no longer anxious about what happens next. In short, SHIT JUST GOT REAL. Because of this, Zira has to once again think fast, but keep Crowley in the dark, and get to work. That ride up in the elevator was spent hatching the most clever, most ingenious, dare I say the most devilish plan the Universe has ever seen. He is really and truly on OUR side now, the side that he & Crowley had been on for millennia, the side he was no longer pretending to NOT be on, the side that he finally stepped into with perfect love and perfect trust. With no way to tell Crowley about the Second Coming and therefore what he was planning, it seems like he chose Heaven over love. But he didn't. He did choose Crowley, but he also chose Earth, and in reality, he chose "us." It's just going to have to wait.
**If you wanna go really deep with this, the whole reason for the bullet catch episode was to mirror Furfur’s threat with the Metatron’s, and Furfur also revealed the plan too soon (I think there’s also another reason for this episode, details below). Like a bad Bond villain, they were too cocky. In 1941, Zira was able to think fast, palm the photo, and protect him & Crowley. But note that he didn’t tell Crowley what he was doing (there was neither time nor opportunity); Crowley only found out after the fact, when they were having dinner later. Zira protected "us" even then because only hours before, he realized that he loved Crowley and (I'm pretty sure) that Crowley loved him back. At the time, however, he didn't think anything could come of it. But that touch in the bookshop... that's when he knew. So when Metatron made the offer, there was no need to protect anything because he thought Crowley would come back to Heaven. Since that went down like a lead balloon, Zira is left helpless & scrambling. Then that look out the window... I think Zira remembered the bullet catch. That silent "trust me." The “aim for my mouth then shoot past my ear.” The diversion tactic. Again, until the Second Coming plans are revealed, Zira only plans to find a way to protect Crowley in secret. When the stakes rise, Zira ups his game. THAT’S the reason for the changing looks on his face on the elevator ride. THAT’s what the smile is about. He’s doing the calculations, setting up the illusion, perfecting the con. And just like the magic act he & Crowley pulled when they saved Job’s children, just like when Crowley seemed to be the random volunteer to pull the trigger, Zira knows his partner will be there to help him pull it off one more time. Even if it means leaving him, leaving him in the dark once again.
#good omens#ineffable#aziraphale#crowley#aziraphale x crowley#good omens season 3#good omens season 2#go s 3#go s 2#good omens theory#good omens analysis#aziracrow
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Concept: evil katniss body double is rescued from the capitol with hijacked Peeta. Evil!Katniss meets real Katniss
loooooooooove this concept. love. thanks for sending this in, this is a great idea!!!!!!
I stare through the glass. I can feel Plutarch breathing down my neck behind me and I know he wants me to say something- so I refuse to say anything.
The person in there. The body, hunched over, cuffed to the bed, dressed in a hospital gown- it is not me. But it is.
I brace my jaw, only just realizing I have been grinding my teeth for the past minute and it hurts. I'm mesmerized by her. Her tangled black hair falls over her face just the way mine does, just the way I hate. Her fingernails are short and cracked. So are mine. I've been biting them raw since I got here. Her eyes, gray like mine- wait, no, they're more brown. So she's not exactly identical. But she's close.
I'm jolted out of my reverie by a hand on my shoulder. I know before even turning around that it's Haymitch, and he is not who I want to talk to right now. I want to talk to Peeta. I need to talk to Peeta.
"Pretty good likeness," is all Haymitch says. I glare at him.
"I want to see Peeta."
"You can't," he says, for the third time since the rescue team got back an hour ago. "We have no idea what Snow did to him. Thanks to Capitol Katniss, here," he throws a hand up to my double behind the glass window, "we know there's a strong chance he's been involved in some hijacking."
I turn all the way to him. "What's that?"
"Something we've been working out for a while now. It's a method of torture Snow likes to use- turning people's memories against them using tracker jacker venom to target their fear systems," Plutarch says. I forgot he was here.
What does that mean? Peeta was tortured? Brainwashed? Mind-controlled? And what does that have to do with her?
Plutarch answers before I can ask. "We think they might have used this Katniss to manipulate Peeta, to rewire his memories to see you as....something else."
"What?" I ask, looking from Plutarch to Haymitch. "Like, convince him that I don't l- that I hate him?"
Plutarch looks at Haymitch. Haymitch sighs.
"To convince him to see you as a threat. An enemy," he says.
An enemy. So this is how Peeta will see me now. Exactly what I saw him as in the beginning of our first Games. The irony is not lost on me. Of course, Snow knew it wouldn't be.
"I want to talk to her."
"I don't think-" Plutarch begins.
"Let her." Haymitch's expression is steely and strange. I wonder if he's ever heard of something like this before and has a bit of sympathy for me, or if he just has the opposite of my best interest at heart.
Plutarch watches both of us carefully for a minute. My face is probably mirroring Haymitch's, stoic and more serious about this than I've been about anything recently.
"Fine," he sighs. "But she's staying cuffed to that bed."
_____
The mechanical, hissing sound of the door locking shut behind me almost makes me jump. But I do not lose my focus on the girl in front of me.
Capitol Katniss, as Haymitch so staunchly put it, is sitting on the bed. As promised, she remains cuffed, but she is sitting up, facing me and meeting my eyes. I hate eye contact, but I'm maintaining it.
"Who are you." The words come out hoarse and my mouth is full of spit. Not as intimidating as I had hoped.
Her expression is unchanging. "Katniss Everdeen," is all she says.
"No, you're not," I say. "You're created by the Capitol. Snow made you. You're not me."
She just tilts her chin up at me. "How do you know you're not the one he made?"
And with this, she has a point. Snow has made me. He has shaped me, created a version of me that I never thought would exist. I have been a tribute, a victor, a wife, a mother, a deranged teenage girl, a leader of revolution. All of these things have been against my will. Maybe Capitol Katniss and I are not so different. But I know that's not what she means.
"You think I'm a mutt?" I ask.
"Can't rule it out."
This shakes me more than I want it to.
"What did you do to Peeta."
She does not tear her eyes away from me, this double of mine. She really can't be me, I think. She is undisturbed by any of this. They got the rasp in her voice right, though.
"I did what had to be done. I showed him the truth.
"What truth? That I'm the enemy? That I'll hurt him?" I blurt out.
"Do you think I'm wrong?" she asks.
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Because I don't think she's wrong.
From the very beginning, I have only brought danger to Peeta. I have only made his life miserable. I have endangered him in the arena. I have been unclear and uncertain about where we stand romantically. I have forced him to pretend to marry me. When I swore to protect him in the Games, he ended up a tortured captive of the Capitol. Every horrible thing that has happened to Peeta has been because of me.
I feel dizzy, and I can feel my breathing starting to get more shallow.
"I don't want to hurt him," is all I can say.
Fake Katniss leans forward. Unnerved. Powerful. Stronger than I ever will be.
"Katniss Everdeen. You are the reason he is here, and you will be the reason he dies. You are the biggest threat that has ever existed to Peeta Mellark," she says.
And with that, I am spiraling, banging on the door to be let out, tumbling outside, running, sobbing into the arms of Haymitch. I am weak. And she is right.
#my poor baby she has enough to deal with#just kidding this was super fun to write#katniss everdeen#the hunger games#thg#mockingjay#peeta mellark#hijacked peeta#hijacked!katniss#haymitch abernathy#sunrise on the reaping#everlark#katniss x peeta#birdy writes little things
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Jealousy | P.P
Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Pansy Parkinson
WC: 1k+
Warnings/Notes: Mild language, kissing, angst, threats…
Summary: Unsure if Pansy likes you, you turn to a Gryffindor in hopes to see if Pansy gets jealous or not.
"Hey, guys." Pansy says, taking a seat with the guys.
She tries to subtly look around for you, but the guys noticed and chuckled. Her cheeks flush red, a scowl working its way on her face. Despite feeling embarrassed, she refused to show these blokes she calls her friends, that she was embarrassed for being caught.
"Looking for y/n/n?" Mattheo teases.
"I still wish I could understand your infatuation with our sister. We are bloody triplets, there is nothing about her infatuating." Tom mutters.
"Hey! That isn't true and you best retract that statement or I'll hex you! There are loads of things that I find infatuating about her." Pansy scolds, her eyes burning with anger.
"Alright, alright, get your panties out of a twist, Parkinson. I'll choose to let that slide this time, but in the future, show some respect or I'll show you why you should fear me." Tom says.
"You bloody bloke, no one fears you." You scoff, sliding in between your brothers.
"That is not true! I'm the one who reminds everyone of our father! I have similar traits to him!" He snaps, his face growing red.
"Right, and that's why his dooming downfall is in the horizon. Until he can ask his most competent and truly cruel child, his doom will be there. Do you know why? Because he's arrogant, sloppy, and cocky. He isn't the leader we need for this war. And if you wish to go run your mouth to him, please do. There is a reason he fears me as well." You say, unfazed.
"Y/n/n, shhh." Mattheo scolds.
"Father doesn't fear you. You're the only daughter, so he's gentle with you." Tom scoffs.
"No. I'm his only child powerful enough to defeat him and he knows that. I remind him too much of our mother, the one we are barred of speaking of in his presence because she was far more powerful and cruel than our father. She is the real leader and he has since made her a stone statue in our home. He'll continue to strive to bend me to his perfect little minion or I'll end up just like mother." You snap harshly.
Tom quiets, trying to reign his temper in. Deep down he knew. He knew you were the most powerful heir of your guys' father. You possessed your guys' mothers cunningness, intelligence, ambition, bravery, and magic. No one had seen anything like your mother's magical abilities, and you were lucky to carry it on.
"Why were you so late this morning?" Theodore asks.
"Oh, it was nothing." You say, a small smile on your lips.
Pansy frowns, noticing it and she studies you as her stomach begins to twist and flip with worries. You were staring at the Gryffindor table and she followed your eyes to Hermione Granger. The rest of the table noticed Pansy's look of surprise and hurt, so they followed her gaze.
"You like Granger?" Mattheo hisses.
"Father will kill you and her. She's a mudblood." Tom scolds.
You roll your eyes, standing as you move to sit with Hermione. She starts to talk with you, the two of your laughing and flirting. Pansy pushed her food away, watching with something she wasn't quite familiar with.
"Figuratively, green doesn't suit you." Tom mutters.
"I've been dropping fucking hints for months, and she goes to her? A mudblood, but even worse—a Gryffindor? What is it she has that I don't?" She snaps.
"Maybe courage to talk to the people she likes rather than dropping almost nonexistent hints." Mattheo suggests.
Pansy glowers at him, enough to make him grumble an apology as the guys try to calm Pansy and suggest way to get your attention with more obvious hints.
"Do you think it's working?" You ask.
"Oh, for sure. She can't stop staring. She looks real upset though." Harry says.
"And pissed." Ron says through a mouthful of food.
"Phase two?" Hermione asks.
"Phase two." You confirm.
The guys shush as they notice Pansy's jaw clench, her green eyes narrowing. They follow her gaze to where you were leaving with Hermione, the two of you holding hands.
"Well shit...I truly wasn't expecting that." Mattheo mutters.
"Something seems off." Tom murmurs, his eyes zoned in on the hand holding.
"Oh shush, you know nothing of relationships you, bloke." Mattheo snickers.
"And you do? You just sleep with the entire female population." Tom snaps back.
Throughout the day, Pansy couldn't keep her eyes off you. The foreign feeling continued to burn in her stomach and chest, a sour taste in her mouth as she watched the two of you flirt. You paid no mind to Pansy—you practically shunned her. On a normal day, you couldn’t get enough of Pansy. You were hooked to her every word, following her lips that would curve to a smile or smirk, and your eyes were constantly on hers.
She was losing her control, so it was no surprise when you were dragged off to a broom closet.
She murmurs "lumos" her wand admitting a bright light that she sat on a shelf before focusing on your face.
"What the hell Pansy? Hermione and I were going to go on a walk." You snap.
"What the hell? What the hell!? Don't you get snappy with me. Watching you with Granger all day has made my blood boil, love! The amount of times I've thought about hexing her or beating her to a bloody pulp should be concerning. Her hands on you...the quiet giggles and shared smiles—bloody hell! I've had it. That should be me! I fucking like you, yet you didn't seem to notice as your with bloody Granger." She snaps, her face flushed red with anger.
You were surprised, not quite expecting that reaction. You expected a reaction for sure, but you weren't prepared for this. No, Pansy Parkinson was angry beyond words and her jealously stained her green.
"I like you too, Pansy...I just wasn't sure. Hermione agreed to help me get a rise out of you—because then it'd confirm whether you liked me too." You admit softly.
She stared at you with a blankness that made you uneasy. She lets a sigh out as a tired look, yet a relieved one washes over her face.
"Well that makes me feel fucking loads better...I still might hex Granger for touching you though." She murmurs, her eyes focused on your lips.
It was silent for several beats, the air becoming thick with desire and tension. It wasn't long before Pansy and you were leaning in, sharing a soft kiss that slowly grew hungrier and more ravishing. She pushes you back against a shelf, her tongue shoving its way past your lips as she trails a hand up your thigh.
"Fuck, I like you a lot, love." She whispers, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.
"I like you a lot too." You murmur, your cheeks flushed red with need.
#harry potter universe#masterlist#slytherin#hp fandom#angst#slytherin x reader#pansy parkinson x reader#pansy parkinson#pansy parkinson x you#fluff#jealousy#slytherin reader
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Okay, I'm actually obsessed with your 'jayvik works for silko au'. I like that Viktor is the face of their work, the confident one that everyone knows (and fears, as they should). Also, I imagine Jayce like he looked in THAT council room scene in e8s2 (he looks SO hot in those dark clothes and the beard, damn (and I'm ace so that's saying something, lol)). Just slightly longer hair maybe.
I think Jayce would be in denial for a few years about the true situation he's in, regarding not just Viktor and their power dynamics, but their work and Silko and the situation in Zaun in general. But then he would have a epiphany about it and then slowly realizes stuff and accepts it surprising well. By the end of the time skip he's completely on board with what he's doing (though in the same way Viktor is, and the two conspire together).
You said we can ask for more of the au so, if I may maybe request a tender moment between the two? Like their love confession or them getting together. Just Viktor being vournelable with Jayce and it's the firs time ever he is with someone since like really early childhood. And he's freaking out internally about it but just wants to so badly.
Or the scene where Vi and Cait meet them (mainly Jayce) post timeskip (does it happen the same time Vi and Jinx meet for the fist time? Or is it different). I just kind of want to see Caits reaction to Jayce being alive and the whole, he's working for the kingpin, making weapons and is married to an infamous henchman/silkos inventor/the Herald/whatever Viktor is. I think it would be hilarious.
What's your Ao3? Would you consider posting this au there?
First of: I'm SO glad people like this au because it's been on my mind ever since the show barely came out!! This + crow queen + the meadow au are the very first ones I developed for Arcane and I've been slowly going insane over them. Hehehe. I do have to preface this by saying: when originally created, it was done with *League* lore in mind. I've had to tweak and adjust things for them to make sense with some of the newer backstory + revelations. Which is one of the main reasons as to why I've only posted it as ideas/snippets. I don't even want to get into the logistics of how Piltover would evolve without the hexgates (since their creators are buried deep in the underground and refuse to work with anyone in the council) or what the presence of not only one, but now *two* apparent heirs for Silco could entail. It's a very nice idea that I love, but it's nowhere near as fleshed out as it needs to be for me to write a fic :((
One of the main reasons I enjoy it is the subversion of their power dynamic! In this one, is Viktor who has to step out and defend Jayce when needed (there's actually a scene very similar to the last EP of S1, where Viktor has to cement Jayce's standing as his *partner* (meaning, equal, so please stop trying to kill him or undermining him) in front of Zaun's chembarons. Though Jayce eventually ends up earning his own name and reputation! I've actually got a small scene for that in the works, but basically people's perspective of him goes: that's herald's new boytoy (is he going to last?) > that's herald's new lap dog (is he trying to steal sevika's spot?) > He is to Viktor what Sevika is to Silco + they fuck > that's herald's new apprentice (is he good enough for the title) to, finally > He Defender (or smth idk not quite sure of his Zaun Tittle yet), Herald's partner, Jinx's second favorite. Jayce has to fight tooth and nail for his spot at Silco's chain of command, but once he has it no one dares question him. People fear provoking them both because of The Herald's vindictive vein as much as they are terrified of The Defender's (I'm between that and warden really) senseless rage. However, Zaunites do start going to Jayce for help, since he is the kinder and more approachable out of the bunch. Silco lets Jayce run around fixing houses and "playing hero" because it's actually gaining them a lot of sympathy and making more people slowly rally behind his ideals.
I've also given silco a bit more of a political incline. There is a draft of Jayce and Viktor convincing Silco to start a small public school, but it's still a "maybe", since there's the whole child labor aspect and allat.
And, yeah. Jayce is completely in denial for almost a year. He's lost everything he's ever known, was faced with the crude reality that piltover will, can and has turned its back against one of their own. He's bitter and humiliated, after all, Jayce does have a bit of an ego in the og show and everything that transcends here hurts him. Also, Viktor and Silco are both spewing shit about Piltover in his ear every single day (not without reason lol). But you are generally right with that analysis!! When he does have the final breakdown, he bounces back fast as hell. He becomes really codependent with Viktor and Jinx in those times, then gets better and better at accepting the cards he's been dealt.
I'm still debating about the plot point of Viktor and Jayce conspiring to take over Silco's place and *actually* do something for Zaun. In this au we would have: them trying to win over Sevika, secretive plotting, them do their best to properly mold Jinx so she will eventually rebel (or, in case Silco is taken out by that point, she can step in and allow them a place at her side)
Also I'm SO glad S2 gave me a proper image for visualizing Zaunite Jayce. I was screaming at my computer when I realized that all my dreams had been answered. I'm debating giving him streaks of color or something. Idk yet.
I WILL write that as soon as I'm out of finals lol. I also have one of Viktor's efforts to convince everyone of Jayce being treated as his equal and the way they meet. It's all a bit convoluted.
Some things I'm not quite if I should change yet;
Originally, Singed cut off Viktor's leg and gave him a prosthetic, framing this as "getting rid of the bad parts". This would eventually evolve into the whole cyborg-viktor we see in the games. There was also a very homoerotic situation where he got Jayce to cut off his hand when the wrist stopped answering properly. Idk sorry I've a lot of weird kinks in store for them.
This also meant Viktor giving Jayce modifications. One thing that im definitely keeping is that he gives Jayce sharper canines + possibly adds a "venom" mechanism so he can better defend himself. They experiment on each other as a way to show love okay. Also Jayce gets a piercing. Idk where how or why but I need this man pierced. Maybe him and Viktor get matching ones like Alternate Ekko and Alternate Powder. Gold and Silver little bands. Why not.
There was a whole thing about Viktor just kinda going ham and trying to add body mods to their already shimmered soldiers.
Et cetera
Edit: I want to clarify that I understand that sevika is loyal to ideas, not people. She is loyal to Silco because he is the best bet they have at the moment, and then to Jinx for the same reason (yes she definitely cares for jinx but u get the idea). Still, they would have to work REALLY hard to convince this woman to put her life on the line to betray the biggest mob boss around. She does stand by them and their ideas a lot of times, wanting Zaun's betterment as much as they do.
#jayvik#i also still need to name this au#I'm travelling home for the weekend foegive my possible mistakes#this ride ia veey bumpy#Jayce talis#Viktor arcane#jayvik au#I love people asking me stuff it's so fun#shimmering progress au
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