#Aed mentioned

[vaquinhadecogumelinhos]

Lancelot's tears part 2

Warning: not so small text.

So, those days i got myself thinking "Lancelot crys a lot in the legends. Probably because he was raised only whit women and he didn't grow up whit the pressure of 'real men don't cry' bullshit. It's funny cause in the show he was raised to be a weapon and only by men paladins. It's kind of contradictory... wait hold on-"

Well my mind just give me de awsome information that PERHAPS Lancelot and his cousins, Lionel and Bors, might just had swapped their fates whit each other in the show. Why, do you ask? Let me give you some of those beautiful reasons that almost made me want to drown myself in coffee and medicine.

In the original legends, we know that Lancelot's mother, Elaine, ran away when the castle they lived in set on fire and give young Lancelot to Viviane, the Lady of the Lake or Lady du Lac, which in the show we know as Nimue. And in some other versions he is kidnaped, or more like taken away from his mother's arms, by her. And we all assume his biological mother is dead. While Bors and Lionel are taken by Claudas and his son, and held in captivy for a time (it's not telled how many time exacly), until they kill Claudas' oldest son and ran away whit the help of Claudas' youngest son.

By the time Lionel and Bors had been whit Claudas they were treated like prisioners and had only permision to go to church or be in the surroundings of the castle whit vigilance, and they would be punished for any bad action if i remember correctly. If that's a wrong information then pardon and please correct me.

I strongly belive that Bors is too religious cause of the trumas he passed during this period of the sequence of trumas in his life. The parents death, the kidnap, and the fact that he couldn't leave or go to any place other than the church. And all of this happend when he was young, but not so young as Lancelot.

They don't cry as much as Lancelot does. Probably cause Lancelot was raised whit only women and had much more freedom to cry and expose his feelings, meanwhile, for what i belive, Lionel and Bors had been whit Claudas and i'm pretty sure he has the "swallow the cry, or i'll give you a real reason to cry. Suck it up." kind of guy dealing whit them two.

In the show we see that insted of being raised whit women, Lancelot was raised whit paladins men, worse than that, church man-blood men. NO OFFENSES. And that he probably was kidnaped and treated like an animal or a demon/prisioner. Really similar whit Lionel and Bors don't you think? It gets worse. Cause we see Lancelot suffering and asking the father if he loves him, but we don't see him cry when he totally should in front Carden. Really weird the similarity happend twice, huh?

Lancelot was raised by men, kidnaped, treated very poorly from the very beginning, and doesn't cry in front of his abusers. Exacly what happend to Lionel and Bors in their story.

I think i made my point very clear, and i think you get what i mean.

Ok what the fuck does this have to do whit Lancelot's tears?

Not satisfacted whit giving me a headache from all this comparisons, my mind decided to give me more. Lancelot and his cousins swapped their storys/fates, that means Lionel and Bors scaped and now are living whit an adoptive mother looking for Lancelot. And perhaps Hector also sufferd the same fate, cause both brothers, Lionel and Bors, were kidnaped and kept imprisoned in the legends, then maybe it would make sense if Lancelot and Hector were whit the paladins.

But what about Lancelot being a total cry baby? He can't cry anymore. He'll have to learn how to express his feeling all over again.

My ADHD mind jut gave me the most perfect headcanon were, at first, Carden would not make them supress his feelings cause he knows that if he did, they would break and turn their backs to him sooner or later. But he had to do it. Why? Cause Lancelot is and the others are ashkids, and the ashfolk has a devine cry.

Devine cry. (Let me explain myself, alright? I promisse this can be good.)

As i was creating a reason for the Ashfolk marks in Lancelot's backstory story, i wrote about how Aed, the red, Celtic God of fire, created the ashfolk out the first ashes that fell after the very first fey fire being summoned on earth. Or the second version and particularly my favorite: the ash folk and fey fire were created of Aed's tears when humans murdered one of his creations, his tears burn the earth where it were killed, and so the ashes fell from them. Aed not bearing the suffering, takes the ashes and creates a new form of life, made to sense the danger whit their noses and capable of desgising among the nature. Marking their faces whit tears and as black as the ashes they were made from. Giving them the ability of making fey fire and a cry closer to his own suffering than the humans.

Whit that, the ashfolk were made, and whit them the protectiveness of Aed and the fey fire. The ashfolk had one regular diferential in their cry, they didn't cry very often, cause no one wanted to mess whit Aed new creation after seing him cry and get mad, but one day a person was stupid enough to mess whit of them. And they cried.

"When the humans heard the cry of the young ashkid, they could not describe it other than a beautiful sound that at the same time made their souls break into ten billion pieces. They claimed to hear a cry closer to an angel than to any human."

I thought about making their tears black, but then i trowed it out cause a human, a man-blood, would never call black tears beautiful. So insted, i'm thinking about their tears as something very clear, a transparent but angel-like tear that fall from their eyes like waterfalls. And I'm absolutely pleased whit that.

This would explain why Carden had to supress the ashkids feelings. Cause everytime Lancelot or any other ashkid cried, Father Carden heard about how the paladins cried along whit them until they pass out, and the ones who didn't went to cry in his feet begging him to free the childs.

Because the ashkids cry were so devine, so angel-like, in the sounds and color, even in the way it fell from their eyes, that any human would simply not bear to hear it. And whit that, Carden toke the decision of supressing their feeling, even if he kew it was a bad decision.

Time to imagine the lil scene (lancewain as always.)

[strawberry blonde]

As Guinevere and the raiders has arrived, they brought news whit them, as always, but this day something went diferent. Guinevere come to the healers tent, were Lancelot and Pym worked. She went whit the especific notice for Lancelot, and asked for Gawain's and Nimue's presence because it would be something they would need to hear later. What she didn't expect was that Lancelot would completely burst into tears when he heard the news.

The Red Spear had come whit the news that two ashmans were found by the east-southeast, one whit red hair and the other whit redish-blond hair, both whit green eyes, and the red head had a lion swened in his chest.

When the information left her lips, she heared the most soft and breaking heart sound she had ever heard in her life.

Everyone in the room turned their faces to Lancelot, founding him now leaned against the stone table they examined the pacients, the clearests tears they ever seen rooling down his cheeks as a waterfall, his tear marks seems to get clearer as the tears flowed. His sounds were so quiet, yet so breath taking, so lovely and painful that for a moment, the ones present felt their knees weaken. He looked like an angel crying.

Guinevere had to left before she herself cried, but she didn't know she wanted to cry.

What anyone knew, is that the ashmans in the east-southeast were Lancelot's cousins. Which he didn't saw since he was kidnaped as a kid. And even with all the training and preparation to suppress his feelings, he couldn't hold back his tears hearing the news that they were alive, and on this land. Tears were rolling down his eyes before he could realize it.

Gawain couldn't belive what he was seeing. Lancelot was crying, and he sounded absolutely devide. He looked so broken, yet so beautiful.

His body doesn't seem to move for a moment, but then he readily moves to comfort the crying man, hugging his body slowly and carefully. His heart broke a little more when he felt Lancelot flinch from the hug, because of he wasn't used to that or any form of affection.

Within seconds he feels his friend's facade break and bury his face in the crook of his neck. The almost non-existent sobs seem louder now that they are so close, Lancelot's tears wet the fabric of his shirt, and without even knowing why, Gawain's own tears begin to silently descend.

Apologies

This actually went way bigger than i thought, so if you read it till there, either you are really hiperfixed on the weeping monk, or you just had a fucking time. Either ways, thank you for reading.

Hunted kisses for you ❤️

@lancedoncrimsonwings

[girlcprfan]

This user is a damn pedophile and does not want to accept it, we should all report the account to him

[waywardxrhea]

Heart's Desire - a Spencer Reid one shot

pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 9.58k

When working a serial killer case in Tennessee, you become the bait for a violent unsub whose victims all match your description. When going after the man you collapse and are rushed to the hospital for medical treatment.

a/n: so yes, this is a Reader one shot, but it is super niche so...whoops? this honestly was just a super self-indulgent fic for me to write because i can't say i have ever seen the heart condition i had presented in the media and i really wanted to explore how Spencer may interact with it, so here we are! this is my first time writing for the criminal minds fandom, so shout out to my bestie who helped me out with coming up with case details and smaller plot points that have been incorporated into this little one shot!

content: fluff (oh how i adore the fluff in this one!), multilingual Reader, secret relationship, implied smut (if you squint lol), insecure Reader, Reader fits the victimology, graphic description of canon level violence, Reader is bait for the unsub, protective Spencer, mentions of jealous and possessive Spencer, language, medical emergencies, small medical inaccuracies (no AED on the scene - i had to do it for the drama don't judge), crying Spencer.

(not my gif), CM dividers by @firefly-graphics , EKG dividers by me

“Good morning, beautiful,” you heard Spencer’s sleep ridden voice mumble from behind you as you began to stir awake with the sun that was filtering in through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom. The two of you had just gotten back from a case the day before and you were utterly exhausted. All you wanted to do was sleep in, and although he had bought blackout curtains for this exact reason, the sun still somehow managed to slip through, which you cursed the manufacturer for every time…

You flipped around in his arms to face him and sent a sleepy smile at him before mumbling, “Bonjour mon amour.” 

“Oh so it’s a French morning?” Spencer asked with a quiet chuckle as he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles.

“I was debating between that and Italian, but… French usually gets us to where I would love to spend this free day with you,” you replied with a smirk before leaning up to kiss him.

After a few slow and loving kisses, Spencer pulled away for a brief moment to rest his forehead on yours and say, “You know since we just got back from a case out of state that took so long to solve, the odds of the team getting called back out are significantly lower than if-”

And then your phones started ringing. 

“What were you saying about the odds being low?” you muttered with a sigh as you turned back over in the bed and grabbed your phone off of the nightstand. You heard the automated voice on the other side tell you that there was a case the BAU was requested to work and that your presence was requested as soon as possible. 

As you sighed and closed your eyes briefly while you tried to sink back into the pillow, Spencer noted, “Well I did say the odds were low, not zero…” You couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto your face at the comment as you laughed and lightly hit him in the bare chest with a throw pillow. 

“‘Never tell me the odds,’” you told him as you reluctantly began getting out of bed, sitting up on the edge and stretching to wake up your tired muscles. 

Spencer positioned himself to where his legs were on either side of you and wrapped his arms around your torso before kissing your neck and mumbling, “No matter how many times you quote Han Solo at me, it’s not gonna stop me from telling you the odds of things, you know that right?”

“I know, I know…” you told him with a giggle as you toyed with his hands that were clasped in front of your stomach. “So how far apart do we have to leave again so they aren’t suspicious?” 

“Well your apartment is about a thirty minute commute from the office while mine is twenty depending on traffic, so you'll leave ten minutes after me,” he reminded you as you both began to get up and untangle yourselves from each other. “I have an extra go-bag packed for you in the closet as well as a few outfits so you aren’t wearing the same clothes you came home in yesterday.”

“You’re the best, Spence,” you told him quietly as you both made your way into the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

As you jumped into the shower to take advantage of your extra ten minutes, you thought about your relationship with Spencer. You two had started dating about a year after you joined the BAU and out of fear of getting in trouble, like two teenagers you hid the relationship from your teammates. Your transfer from Homeland Security was prompted when your interrogation and hostage negotiation tactics landed you on the BAU’s radar and you very quickly became fast friends with the whole team. So with the guise of being your usual friendly self, it truthfully hadn’t been too hard to hide the relationship from your friends. And while Spencer was hesitant about hiding a relationship from a group of people like the BAU team, your fear of being let go as the “more inferior” member out of the two of you was what convinced him to keep it a secret. It also prompted him to lecture you on your clear inferiority complex, but that was neither here nor there. 

“I’ll see you there, drive safe,” Spencer told you before kissing your cheek as you wrapped yourself in your towel to dry off while finishing your routine. 

“You too,” you replied, giving him a peck on the lips before he began walking out of the restroom and apartment to head to headquarters. 

When you got to HQ, you yawned as you made a beeline for the break room for some much needed caffeine. When you got inside, you cordially told Spencer and Derek, “Good morning you two,” as you poured your coffee, creamer, and sugar into the mug you always had on your desk. It was your parting gift from your Homeland team that was in the shape of the sun and what prompted your nickname from Derek. 

He laughed as he watched you and Spencer prepare your coffees, telling you, “You know Sunshine, I think with how much creamer you put in that you may have Pretty Boy beat on sugar consumption.”

“Ha ha very funny,” you told him with a playful roll of your eyes as you turned to walk from the break room and into the bullpen. 

As the three of you ambled into the area, Hotch emerged from his office and announced, “Sorry to call you all in so soon after getting back from a case, but this one is something we aren’t taking lightly and needs to be stopped because the unsub is escalating quickly.” So after a quick briefing on what he knew of the case, Hotch told you all to be prepared for wheels up in thirty. 

When the plane landed in Tennessee later that afternoon and you stood up from your perch, you stumbled a bit when you felt your heart give an irregular stutter in your chest. “You okay, kid?” David asked you with concern in his eyes after seeing the brief moment of panic flit across your features. 

“Yeah, fine, just feeling a bit off after that flight I guess,” you replied, taking a deep breath and straightening up which seemed to do the trick as your heart began beating in a regular rhythm once more. 

“You know, I wouldn’t say I blame you if you were a bit anxious,” he told you as you both exited the jet and started making your way to the black SUVs awaiting your arrival. “It isn’t every day we get cases as violent as this one, especially when the victims…”

“All look like me?” you supplied quietly when he trailed off at the end of his sentence. It was true that when you began going over the pertinent files on the flight that all of the unsub’s victims shared many of your physical features, and while that did alarm you, you knew that your team would have your back during this case no matter what. You placed a small smile on your lips as you told him, “I’ll rest easier when this guy’s behind bars.”

“That’s the spirit,” he told you with a warm smile as you loaded into the SUV, your bag at your feet and your case file in your lap as you continued to read over what all the unsub had been up to in the last couple of months. 

After you all got to the local police precinct and got settled in and assigned tasks, you made your way to their break room for another cup of coffee, only to be followed in by Spencer a few moments later. As you both made your drinks, you casually turned so you were leaning on the counter and watching over the office as Spencer asked, “Are you okay?”

“You know, Dave asked me the same thing, I’m starting to think you guys are more worried about me than I am,” you told him, your lips covered by your cup in case anyone you couldn't see was watching. 

“I always worry about you,” Spencer told you softly as he stirred his sugary drink. 

“And I, you, but for now we need to work on getting this guy in cuffs and it won’t happen if either of us get distracted,” you said with a sort of finality in your tone, determined to make sure you conveyed a sense of confidence or else you too may fall victim to worrying about yourself instead of working the case. 

As you walked out to the desk where you were allowed to set up, Penelope ran past you, almost toppling you over as she shouted, “Hotch, I found out how he’s luring the victims!” 

“How?” your unit chief asked as she made his company. The team had barely been here a couple hours and the locals' work was already being combed through and missing clues were being found. 

“Dating apps! On every victim’s phone was a dating app and she had planned a date with a man from there. None of the men’s accounts were the same and none of them had common pictures, but the unsub always used the same lines when chatting the women up!” she told him in a rush as she showed him pages she had printed out while doing her dive into the womens' phones. 

Spencer emerged from the break room with his coffee in hand, saying, “Well based on that knowledge we can assume that dating apps have a significant meaning to him.” 

From her place nearby, JJ spoke up, saying, “Every victim had her left ring finger severed off, maybe his wife cheated on him using one?”

As Derek walked into the room with David hot on his heels, he added, “And turns out they also had their ovaries taken out by the unsub.”

“As well as their cervix glued shut with industrial sealant before their genitals were mutilated,” David supplied, his head shaking as he handed Hotch the ME reports. 

A scoff huffed out of your chest before you mused, “So he feels slighted by his ex wife and has decided that in order to pacify that anger he does what he wishes he could to her to the victims…” 

“Do we know if any of the victims was the ex wife?” Derek asked. 

“Nope, all the victims are single women who have been on dating apps for quite some time and none of them have an active or otherwise marriage license under their name,” Penelope replied. 

“Good work everyone, let’s get to work finding this guy,” Hotch said. “Find out all you can, I want to give this brief before nightfall.”

“Yes sir,” you all replied before once again splitting off into your assigned tasks. 

Right as the sun began to set that evening, Hotch called everyone together and the team began giving the locals the brief on the unsub. Hotch of course began the brief, informing the locals, “The unsub is a caucasian male in his mid thirties to early forties who we believe to have a medical background in surgery and likely just went through a rough divorce." 

You were the next to speak, announcing, “We believe he was cheated on by his ex wife, which is what triggered the break and the murders. The victims all share common features which we assume are also shared by the ex wife.” As you said this, you clicked the remote in your hand and on the board behind you popped up the faces of the victims. 

With the slightest tremor in his voice, Spencer was the next to piggyback, saying, “The victims have all been found with mutilated genitals as well as their left ring finger cut off. The unsub also took the time to use industrial glue to seal the victim’s cervix shut and to cut out her ovaries.”

Derek was next to speak, adding to Spencer’s statement, “The cause of death in all the victims was prolonged blood loss. This tells us that he's performing these rituals while the victim is still alive.”

“He’s tech savvy, enough so that he is able to create difficult to trace profiles on dating apps on which he seduces victims before murdering them,” Penelope said sadly. 

JJ was next, telling the team, “The only evidence that he’s left behind are the bodies in secluded dump locations and as of right now we do not know where the victims are being killed.”

David was the last to speak, rounding out the brief with, “All of this combined leads us to believe that he is a very calculated and dangerous individual who needs to be found before he strikes again.” When he was done, Hotch dismissed everyone to begin their search with this new information. 

“Hey chief?” came a voice from the front of the office a few minutes later. Both the local police chief and Hotch looked up at the young man expectantly before he replied, “There’s been another victim…”

“He’s escalating again…” Hotch mumbled as he ran a hand over his chin. “There was a lot less time between victims. We need to work faster.”

“Yes sir,” everyone replied before attempting to double down on their work. 

As they all began working, the gears in your mind began to spin and when you finally formulated a plan, you approached Hotch and said, “Sir, I think I may have an idea on how to catch him.”

“How?”

“We do a sting. Penelope makes a dating profile for me on one of those apps and we use me as bait,” you told him, never breaking eye contact to convey that you were serious about the idea. “If we can get someone inside then we get our guy as well as possible evidence for half a dozen murders.”

Hotch sighed before saying your name warily. “You know how risky that is.”

“And that risk is something I am willing to take in order to stop this guy. If we don’t do this then there may be another victim tomorrow, maybe two,” you said. Squaring your shoulders, you added, “I agreed to take this job in order to help people. I fit the victimology. This is how I can help.”

A few moments of silence passed as Hotch seemed to weigh his options before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he said, “Fine. I’ll think through the details. I want everyone well rested tonight before we start planning tomorrow. You and Garcia share a room at the hotel so she can start making that profile for you.”

“Yes sir,” you replied with a small smile and a nod before heading off to find Penelope so you two could head to the hotel and begin. 

“So are you on one of these apps normally?” Penelope asked as the two of you sat beside each other on the hotel bed, laptop and phones in hand to create this fake profile for yourself. 

“Me? No, I don’t trust them for this exact reason,” you replied, shuddering as you thought about the poor women who thought they were simply going to meet a new man but paid with their lives and dignity. 

“Oh I see,” Penelope said before instructing you to find a specific type of photo in your camera roll that the unsub may find attractive. “Are you dating at all?”

“Oh, uh, not really,” you said, trying to pace your words so they didn’t seem panicky. “This job takes up a lot of my time and all so it would be hard to find time for a relationship between cases.”

“You have an excellent point, but you can’t let something like that hold you back! You deserve all the happiness in the world!” she told you cheerfully as she continued typing away at the laptop. “What are your interests?”

Smiling inwardly at how the subject turned from your dating life you told her, “Reading, rom coms, coffee, patisseries, art, the occasional drink.” As you thought for a moment, you added, “Ooh, make sure you put ‘not looking for anything serious.’ I think that’s something that may trigger the unsub into choosing my profile.”

“Smart!” she replied before selecting that option on the profile. “We should do this more often! Maybe when this is all said and done we can make you a real one and I can just do a background check of the person before you go on a date!”

You laughed lightly as you told her, “Let’s make sure I survive this case first then we’ll go from there.”

The next morning came and went as the team tried to track the guy to no avail, so right before lunch, Hotch gathered everyone around and announced, “Okay, this unsub is proving hard to find by other methods, so we’ve decided to pull a sting. We can’t just sit around waiting for our surprisingly extensive list of divorced surgeons to make a move.” He motioned to you and Penelope and said, “These two worked on creating a fake dating profile that the unsub may fall for. The plan is to get him alone and our resident interrogator will pull a confession out of him.”

“Wait what?” Spencer asked immediately, his eyes wide. “Is it a good idea to send her in when we know the unsub is escalating?”

“It’s the only lead we can get right now,” Hotch told him. “If we don’t do this tonight then we may risk another woman dying at his hands.”

“Yeah, and it may be her,” Derek said a bit sharply, the idea of sending you into the belly of the beast not sitting right with him either. 

“Not if we’re all on our A-games when it goes down,” David said in an attempt to calm the younger men down. “If you’re so concerned, we can send you into wherever he asks to meet her so we can have eyes on her the entire time." He chuckled before adding, "Derek, not you Spencer, no offense but you do tend to stick out like a sore thumb in certain environments."

“But-” Spencer tried, but was cut off by Hotch. 

“No buts, we’re doing this. Tonight. Garcia, activate the profile.”

“Yes sir,” she replied quietly before opening up her phone and clicking a few buttons. “It’s done.”

“Good.” He turned to you and said your name to get your attention. “Just make sure you reply to any account that may fit the profile. Garcia will run a trace on it to see when it was created since we knew he makes a new account for every victim.”

“Yes sir,” you replied, nodding your head as you pulled out your phone and got to work. While you scrolled through the app and took a seat in one of the secluded offices to eat your lunch, you were startled by another presence entering the room without knocking. “Geez Spence, you scared me!” you scolded him, clutching your chest in a vain attempt to slow your racing heart. 

“And you’re scaring me,” he told you as he shuttered the blinds to prevent any passersby from seeing the two of you in there together. As you sat your phone down on the table, he covered your hand with his and asked sincerely, “Are you okay with this plan?”

You nodded. “It was my idea. We need to get this guy before another innocent woman dies.”

Echoing Derek, he asked, “And what if that turns out to be you?”

You scoffed humorously before deadpanning, “And you really think you’d let that happen?” After he floundered with his words for a few seconds, you kissed him gently before saying, “I trust that if anything goes sideways you’ll be there to save me. You always are. I just need you to trust me and my judgment on this one. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, it’s just-” he tried, but you cut him off with another kiss. 

“Just trust me, love,” you told him once you pulled away again. 

After you said this, your phone pinged with a notification that caught your attention. You picked it up and saw that there was a new message in your dating app’s inbox. “Hey beautiful, you look like you are in need of some company. How about you meet me at Monroe’s tonight and we see where this goes,” Spencer read with disdain in his voice. He cringed before saying, “Please say that’s not what I sounded like flirting with you…”

You laughed, telling him, “No, the poetry you quoted at me was much more romantic than that line.” You placed one more quick kiss to his lips before telling him, “I’m gonna have Penny run this profile and we’ll see if it could be our guy.”

Turns out there was a high chance of it being your guy, seeing as the profile was created just hours before and yours was the only account that he interacted with. So after a chat with Hotch about the plan to get this guy to confess, you got dressed in a little black number and silver heels, finishing your look with the most effortful hair and makeup you had done in a while. When you emerged into the precinct you saw that Spencer was the only one in the immediate area. “Where is everyone?” you asked. 

“Getting the gear ready and briefing the police. I got the distinct honor of greeting you,” he told you with a warm smile as he drank in your appearance. His eyes darted around the room to ensure the two of you were alone before he wrapped you in his arms and kissed the top of your head, mumbling into your hair, “Tu es magnifique.”

“Merci beaucoup,” you replied, feeling a heat rush up your neck and into your cheeks at his words. No matter how long you and Spencer had been together, whenever he flirted with you, especially in any of the different languages you spoke, you still got flustered. 

When Spencer’s arms quickly untangled themselves from your embrace you rightly assumed that the team was emerging into the offices once more. Hotch called out your name before asking, “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied with a nod, smoothing out your dress before joining the team near the door. 

On the way to the bar in the taxi you were assigned to take, Hotch went over the plan once more, detailing to you that Derek was already at the bar to keep an eye on you in case things went sideways, that you are to attempt to get any sort of confession out of the unsub, and if you can get information on where the killings were happening that would be even better. You had a plan in mind to attempt and get inside his head and get him to confess without even realizing it, so as you walked into the bar you feigned confidence as you walked up and sat on a barstool to wait for the unsub to approach you. 

Derek sat across the room behind you to your left, near the door, and his soothing voice came through the in-ear you had, saying, “All right Sunshine, if things go sideways you just say the word and I’m all over this guy.”

“Just trust me,” you told him quietly as you took your first drink from the water glass that the bartender handed you with your drink. 

“I believe I’m supposed to be meeting you here?” came a voice from beside you a few minutes later. 

You turned toward the voice and smiled in greeting. He did fit the profile, strikingly actually. You noticed a tan line on his left ring finger and how his hands were slightly cracked and dry, perhaps from surgical scrubbing at his job. You offered out your hand for him to kiss as well as your name before telling him, “I believe so. And you’re already nearly half a drink behind, so why don’t you catch up, handsome?”

“I think we can make that arrangement,” he said after kissing your knuckles.

"That was smooth, remind me why you're single again?" JJ asked with a quiet laugh through the in-ear.

You kept your facial expression in response to the comment neutral as the unsub ordered his drink from the bartender. When the two of you began talking, the team kept their ends of the coms silent as you worked to get what information you needed from the unsub. 

During the conversation, you almost dragged out what you wanted from him, but he always skirted around it. You knew he was your man though, that was plain as day when he spoke about his ex wife who he told you moved off to California to be with the man she cheated on him with. During the conversation, Penelope informed you quietly that she had found record of the woman as well as IDing the man sitting across from you as Doctor Samuel Costner, who specialized in abdominal surgery.

After another paced drink from you and a couple more for him, he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you, his hands splaying out over the tops of your thighs as he asked, “How about I take you back to my place and show you a good time?”

Bingo. His place. One of the things the team couldn’t figure out was where the unsub lived, otherwise it would have been much easier to locate him and the possible murder site. With this information in mind, you leaned back into his embrace and told him, “I like the sound of that.”

The silence from the team was broken as Spencer’s voice asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“As long as we tail them it should be fine,” you heard JJ tell him. 

“We have his name now though, can’t we just have Garcia dig into where he lives and go from there?” Spencer countered.

“And go in with what suspicion? We need evidence that he’s killing there in order to step onto the property,” JJ replied.

“But this is a controlled scene, if she gets in the car with him we can’t control what happens in there. What if we lose the truck on the backroads? This is too risky, I’m-”

“Reid sit down and trust her,” you heard Hotch scold him, a finality in his voice. “What we need is a location and she’s getting us exactly that. Now sit back and let her work or else I’m pulling you from this case.”

“Yes sir…” Spencer eventually said. 

“Remember the signal,” Derek mumbled as you and the man made your way out of the bar and to his truck. 

A nearly thirty minute drive took you to a farm that had vast amounts of pastures and trails hidden within the woods as well as a large picturesque barn that looked just like they all did in the movies. “So this is where you live huh? It’s beautiful…” you breathed as you looked around, trying to take in any specific details you may need to relay to the team in case they weren’t able to tail you. 

He nodded as he pulled up in front of the barn, putting his hand on your thigh as he said, “Family owned and operated since the 1800s. And while I don’t do much of the labor around here because of work, I am still the proud owner. Maybe you could be too one day.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked in your most alluring voice as you slightly widened the space between your thighs, the gesture making you feel filthy, but if this was how you caught the unsub then so be it. 

The kisses that he gave you started off innocently enough, but soon turned aggressive and you cringed inwardly at the fact that you knew the team was listening to everything from their end of the coms. You didn't even want to think about what was going through Spencer's mind - the man had a reputation of being jealous and possessive sometimes when you two went out and guys flirted with you.

Before you knew it, the unsub was coming over to your side of the truck and opening the door. He pulled you into his arms and asked, “How about we go for a roll in the hay?” You giggled innocently before agreeing, subtly eyeing the black SUVs that had begun to creep onto the outskirts of the property line with their headlights out. They followed you. Good.

So as he took you deeper into the barn and to an area that was lined with tarps that had seen better days, your eyes began scrutinizing every little thing that could be evidence that he had killed those women here. And you found it as you eyed a corner of another tarp that seemed to have dried blood on it. 

Right as you were about to sneak in your code word to the team to signal you had what you needed, you heard Spencer’s distinct voice shouting, “FBI, hands where I can see them!”

“Shit!” the man shouted before jumping off of you and darting away, the large knife you had somehow not noticed before dropping to the ground as he sprinted off. 

“We’ve got a rabbit!” you shouted, tossing off your heels and beginning to run after him. “I’m taking the back exit, someone go around the side!”

“On it!” JJ called as she began running around the other side of the barn to cut him off. 

When you ran out of the door you saw him leave out of, you were met with a wooden fence that he had jammed in the few moments you were distracted. Not wanting to waste any time, you opted to climb the fence, jumping over and landing awkwardly on your feet. When you did, you felt your heart give an irregular stutter in your chest before starting to beat rapidly. As you stood up, you began to get light headed and it felt like cotton filled your ears as you faintly heard a commotion around the corner of the barn. Heat seemed to fill every part of your body and your vision started to tunnel as you gasped for air, stumbling around to try and steady yourself on the side of the barn before your body gave in and collapsed. 

“Stay down!” JJ sternly told the man as she pinned him to the ground and cuffed him. “Samuel Costner, you’re under arrest for the murder of six women.” 

As JJ recited his rights and escorted him to one of the police cruisers that had emerged on the scene, Spencer looked around and asked where you were. “Didn’t she say she was going out the back?” Derek asked. “I didn’t see her come back around…” 

Panic filled Spencer’s body immediately and he began quickly making his way around the barn with Derek hot on his heels. What if Costner got to you in desperation before JJ arrested him? What if you were bleeding out behind the barn? He had to get to you quickly. 

When he rounded the corner and saw you collapsed on the ground, he shouted your name before sprinting over and feeling for a pulse. After a few seconds and some quick math, he said, “Her heart rate is 238 and she feels clammy… She’s not bleeding that I can see, but she’s hardly breathing. Derek!”

“On it!” he shouted, pulling out his walkie to dispatch an ambulance to the location. “They said it’ll take about twenty minutes to get here.”

“She might not have twenty minutes!” Spencer snapped as he watched your now frail body and how you were losing color quickly. With a strength that Derek didn’t know he had, Spencer lifted you into his arms and began carrying you to one of the SUVs, telling him, “Get one of the officers to give us an escort, we’re taking her!”

“Oh, got it!” Derek stuttered out before barking orders at an officer and getting into the driver’s seat of the SUV. 

“What’s going on?” JJ asked as she quickly jumped into the passenger seat while Spencer got you and himself into the back seat. 

They took off at a rapid speed, Derek intending on cutting the ride to the hospital in half at least as he pushed the pedal into the floor as far as it would go. 

“I don’t know, her heart is racing though and we found her collapsed,” Spencer told her, his own breath beginning to come in rapidly as he began to panic. 

“Spence, look at me,” JJ told him gently which prompted him to look up at her. “We’re gonna figure it out. She’ll be okay. What do we know?”

As he ran his thumb over your jaw in a way of soothing himself, Spencer rattled off to JJ, “Well obviously she was in a state of stress during the sting, but even a panic attack wouldn’t cause her heart to beat this fast, panic attacks top out at about 200 beats per minute. She’s usually good at controlling her anxiety anyway, especially under pressure like this… He couldn’t have drugged her at the bar because she got all her drinks directly from the bartender and she was cognizant of what she was doing and saying the whole time. As far as I know, at her last doctor’s appointment she was given a clean bill of health…”

“Well not being drugged is good, we can work with that,” JJ reassured him. She checked the map on her phone and said, “We’re almost there, just hang in there.”

When you arrived at the hospital, Spencer carried you in and placed you on the stretcher that was waiting at the triage door. “What happened?” a nurse asked as a doctor walked up while the team began placing EKG leads all over your chest. 

“We’re FBI. We were working a case and she was chasing down a perp. I didn’t see her come back from where she said she was going and I found her like this,” Spencer replied as he began following them while they pushed you into a room, JJ and Derek hot on his heels. 

“Any significant medical history?” she asked as they began plugging the wires into machines which immediately began blaring with alarms. 

As Spencer began rattling off your medical history, two of the nurses escorted JJ and Derek into the hall to clear some space for the medical team. After two nurses got IVs started in your left arm, another came running in with some syringes, vials of medication, and a cart. As they began preparing the medication, the doctor looked toward Spencer and told him, “We’re about to give her a medication that’s going to stop her heart.”

“What?!” he shouted, his eyes wide. 

Calmly the doctor continued, saying, “It’s got a super short half-life so it’ll only be for a few moments and then her heart should go back into a normal rhythm. It’s a very routine drug. She may feel sore afterward but that is to be expected.”

And so a pair of nurses worked together to quickly administer the medication and sure enough for a few moments he watched the monitor as your heart stopped and Spencer could practically feel his own stop too. The tension in his shoulders eased up slightly as your heart returned to a normal 88 beats per minute but then alarms started blaring again within seconds as the EKG suddenly looked like a toddler was scribbling on the monitor. Spencer knew that rhythm from a book he read one time and knew that it was deadly if not treated quickly. In a blind rage, he shouted at the doctor, “You said that medication would help! Look what happened! I want a different doctor on her case right now and-”

“Get him out of here! Geneva get the defibrillation pads on her and deliver 200 joules. If that doesn’t work start CPR!” the doctor called before shouting more orders to the rest of the team, two of which began trying to escort Spencer from the room. 

“You can’t just-!” he shouted in frustration before he felt a hand on his shoulder that squeezed gently. 

“Let them work,” came Derek’s voice from behind him. 

When Spencer wrestled himself out of the nurses’ hold and watched them go back into the room and close the door that now had a blue light above it, both JJ and Derek saw the dangerous look in his eye, but JJ was the one brave enough to ask, “What the hell was that about Spence? You can’t just yell at the doctor like that! He was trying to help!”

“Him trying to help sent her into v-fib and now her heart isn’t working!” he retaliated, running a hand through his messy hair. He tried to hide the tears in his eyes as he turned away and stalked off down the hall, unsure of what to do with himself at the moment. 

“Spence!” JJ called after him, about to follow him, but was stopped when a gentle hand grabbed her forearm. 

“Let him go,” said David as he too watched Spencer’s retreating form. 

JJ sighed in frustration and said, “I just don’t know what’s gotten into him! Why would he yell at them? Yeah I’m worried too but that was a whole other level. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him that mad.”

“Just think about it from his perspective,” David told her vaguely before encouraging the two of them to meet the rest of the team in the waiting room. 

Once the pair of them parted ways, David sighed and took off in the direction he saw Spencer going. When he found him a few hallways over staring out a window into nothingness, David cleared his throat and asked, “How long has this been going on?”

“From the time I found her with her heart beating that fast it’s been twenty-eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds give maybe three minutes from the moment she took off after Costner. It’s been two minutes and forty-eight seconds since that doctor sent her into v-fib and effectively made her heart useless as a pump,” Spencer mumbled.

“That’s not what I meant, kid,” David told him, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips. He leaned his back against the window and said, “I know love when I see it.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, his back straightening as it clicked in his mind what he was implying. 

Now David chuckled as he said, “Don’t lie to me, kid. I see the way you two look at each other. The way you joke around together. You’re relaxed around her.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And between you and me, I’ve seen you two sneak off together when you thought no one was looking.”

Spencer cringed at the last bit, but couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips at the thought of you. “We’ve been together for just over a year,” he said softly, the smile growing wider as he remembered your anniversary a few weeks prior. That smile quickly faltered though when he remembered what was happening in that hospital room a few halls down. 

“She’s going to pull through,” David said gently, his hand landing on Spencer’s back, giving him a gentle pat. 

When he said that, Spencer’s phone started ringing with a call from Hotch, who told him, “She’s stable and resting, they gave her a sedative so she doesn’t overwork herself again. The rest of us need to finish up at the scene. I trust you can get your paperwork done on the jet later. Call with updates please.”

“Yes sir,” Spencer replied, a tinge of hope in his voice at the words. 

“Well?” David asked expectantly when Spencer hung up.

“She’s stable!” he told him, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he exhaled deeply. 

“Then go to her!” David said, a smile on his face. 

“I-I will!” Spencer said, turning to take off toward the room he left you in. Before he could leave the older gentleman’s presence though, he asked, “David?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t tell Hotch.”

“It’s not my secret to tell,” he replied with a nod before he answered his cell, presumably with his own call from their unit chief.

The wait for you to wake up took longer than Spencer would have liked, and by then they already had to move you out of the emergency department and to a cardiac monitoring floor to make room for more emergencies. When your eyes finally fluttered open in the early hours of the morning, you cringed at the bright light coming from the window before orienting yourself to your surroundings. You were in a hospital room that much was clear, and beside you was Spencer, with one hand in yours and the other holding up what looked like a map that you assumed was a medication insert. Only Spencer would be reading up on whatever medications they may have given you for whatever you ended up in here for…

“Spence?” you whispered to get his attention. When his hazel eyes flicked away from the pamphlet and met yours, you could see how they instantly flooded with tears as a smile made its way onto his face. As he gently threw his arms around you, you asked, “What happened?”

“When you ran after the unsub you collapsed and your heart was beating extremely fast. I got you into the SUV and Derek drove you here to get treated,” he replied, his voice muffled by your hair. You could hear this disdain in this voice as he added, “They gave you this medication that stopped your heart and was supposed to put you back into a normal rhythm but it ended up making things worse. You went into an even deadlier heart rhythm and they had to shock you. No CPR thankfully, but the nurses said that if that first shock didn’t get you back they would have had to…” He pulled you impossibly closer as he whispered, “I was so scared. I thought I lost you…”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you attempted to comfort him by rubbing soothing circles into his back. That was a lot to take in, but you hated seeing Spencer so upset and that was your biggest concern at the moment. 

You cleared your throat, but before you could ask what was on your mind, there was a knock at the door and two people came in, a nurse and a doctor of cardiology. The doctor sent you a warm smile and said, “It’s good to see you awake Miss, you gave the ED team a real scare last night!” 

“It was the doctor down there that caused such a fuss…” Spencer muttered, which earned a squeeze of your hand that warned him to be cordial. 

“Yes, that’s actually what I came up here to talk to you two about, er, you Miss.” He glanced down to your hands and didn’t notice a ring, so he asked, “And what’s your relation may I ask? Are you okay with him being here for this?”

“He’s my boyfriend and yes he’s allowed to be here. If I don’t remember something that big brain in there will,” you said, a quiet laugh leaving your lips. 

“Okay, great!” the doctor said as he clapped his hands together. “So when you came in, you were in what we call SVT which they treated with a medication called adenosine since you were unresponsive. It’s a fairly routine drug for emergent SVT conversion. When they gave it to you however, it threw your heart into V-fib which essentially caused your heart muscles to quiver instead of contract. In my years of experience, I’ve only ever seen one condition that would cause that medication to make your heart react like that.” He motioned for the nurse to hand the two of you a piece of paper as he continued, “What I think may be going on is called Wolff Parkinson White Syndrome. It’s a condition in which the conduction system in your heart misfires and sends you into SVT. Luckily enough it’s easily treated with a heart ablation surgery, but you will have to go through the steps of a formal diagnosis before going through with that as this is just a guess. Do you have any questions for me?”

You looked at the doctor for a moment, your eyes wide as you shook your head no, unsure why you did it, but in your state of shock you didn’t know what else to do. You were sure whatever research Spencer does on the condition would answer any of your later questions anyway. Through the ringing in your ears you of course heard Spencer’s muffled voice asking the doctor as many questions as he could think of after reading through the education packet, but you paid no attention as you thought of the implications this might have on your job and life as a whole…

What felt like only a few moments passed in the fog of noise and chaos in your brain before you were gently pulled back to reality by Spencer’s soothing voice as he called out your name to get your attention. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asked when your eyes finally met with his concerned ones. 

“Too much… I don’t wanna think about it right now…” you whispered, a tear slipping from your eye as an array of emotions blasted through your body. He pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back, not pushing the topic further for the moment. 

Wanting a change in subject, you cleared your throat and focused on work, asking, “Did we get him? The unsub?”

As Spencer pulled away and tried to discreetly wipe a tear from his cheek, he laughed incredulously before saying, “All thanks to you.”

“Good. At least he’s put away now,” you said, relaxing as much as you could into the stiff hospital bed. 

Spencer looked at you and shook his head in disbelief as he said, “Only you could be told your heart stopped practically twice and that you may need surgery to fix it and you’re still more concerned about if we caught the unsub or not.” 

“What can I say, I was passionate about putting that one away,” you said, forcing a small smile on your face. 

Spencer for the first time in a while was at a loss of words for what else to say on the subject, so instead he simply whispered, “I love you,” before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss to your lips. 

The two of you quickly broke away from each other when you heard a squeal and something hitting the floor behind Spencer. When you both looked over to identify the sound, you saw your team standing in the room holding various gifts as well as your go-bag and some palatable food for breakfast. “You two! I- We- You-!” Penelope stuttered out as her eyes darted from your face to Spencer’s and back. She quickly crouched down and picked up what turned out to be a pack of makeup removing wipes before asking, “When did this happen?!”

“My man!” Derek said with a sly smile on his face as he went over to clap Spencer on the back.

“I- We can explain!” Spencer said, a bit of desperation in his voice as he watched Hotch place his get well balloon down on the table before walking out of the room. 

Spencer took one look at the returning terrified look on your face before starting to stand up to go after Hotch, but stopped when David placed a hand on his shoulder to stop his movement. “I’ll deal with it in a minute, kid. You stay with her.”

After a few moments of tense silence, you managed to say, “Surprise?” as Spencer once again resumed holding your hand. 

JJ laughed quietly as she sat down on the couch in the room, asking, “Like Garcia said, when did this happen?”

“Just over a year ago,” Spencer replied, squeezing your hand as his smile once again appeared. 

“A year?!” Penelope and JJ asked at the same time, their eyes wide in shock. 

David laughed and shook his head before asking, “And how did anyone else not notice?”

“In my defense, I thought it was an unspoken rule not to profile each other,” JJ mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“It’s not profiling if it’s obvious,” David said with a chuckle. He leaned over and placed a kiss to the top of your head before telling you, “Rest up and get to feeling better, you scared us all.”

“Yes sir,” you replied, huffing out a laugh as you watched him exit the room followed soon after by the rest of the team who gave you their well wishes too. “Well I guess that cat’s out of the bag now…” you whispered, pulling your blanket closer to your body as your anxiety began to creep in. 

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” Spencer reassured you, his eyes flicking up to the heart monitor and noticing that your rate was beginning to climb. He squeezed your hand as he said, “Right now we just need to focus on figuring out if you have that condition the cardiologist mentioned. Dave is talking with Hotch and I’ll talk with him soon too, okay?” 

He gently lifted your chin and mumbled, “Deep breaths, sweetheart…” You simply nodded in response as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe in time with him to calm your racing heart and mind. 

After a few moments, Spencer reached over you and grabbed the pack of makeup wipes and took one out, starting to bring it to your face, which prompted you to ask, “What’re you doing, Spence?”

“I’m helping you take your makeup off,” he replied simply as he began to gently run the wipe over your jawline. “I know you hate when you get acne from your makeup when we're busy with cases…”

“I can do it, love, I’m sure you’ve been up all night and you need rest too,” you told him, gently grabbing his wrist to stop his movement. 

“I don’t mind,” he told you with a small smile on his lips. “This gives me an excuse to admire your beautiful features…”

You could feel yourself blushing as you mumbled, “You’ve had my features memorized intimately since around two months into our relationship.”

“And I’ll never tire of your beauty,” he told you as he coaxed your hand off of his wrist and began gently working the makeup off your face. 

“Je t’aime, Doctor Reid. You always know how to make me feel better,” you whispered a few minutes later when the last makeup wipe was discarded. 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on your lips once more. 

When you were cleared to discharge the next morning, the rest of the BAU had already flown back home. Hotch offered to send the jet back to get the two of you, but knowing that they could be called out on a case, Spencer declined, also citing to him, “People with unstable heart disease and arrhythmias have the risk of deadly episodes while in the air due to the pressure changes within the cabin as well as the lower oxygen levels and higher risk of dehydration, not to mention the added stress both physically and emotionally.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re just renting a car to get back?” Hotch asked and the pair of you could practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose as he asked this. 

“Yes sir,” Spencer replied shortly. “If anything comes up feel free to call. We’ll both get our paperwork done before coming back to the office.”

“Thank you,” he said simply before hanging up. 

Since he hadn’t wanted to leave your side, Spencer hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with Hotch about your relationship and over the phone it was hard to tell what the annoyance in his tone was over… As you began to think about those implications, Spencer glanced over at you before taking your hand in his and saying, “You’re working yourself up again…”

“I’m just scared is all…” you mumbled as the pair of you followed the rental car agent to the car you would be taking back to Virginia. 

Once you were both in the car after Spencer inspected it for cleanliness, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, reiterating to you, “We’re going to figure it out. David said he thinks Hotch will come around, and if you’re worried about your heart, we’ve already got your appointment scheduled for when we get back home. Whatever happens we’ll take it on together like we always do.”

“Thank you, Spence,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes once more. You felt like you had done more than enough crying in the past few days, even though there had been more than one occasion when Spencer had rattled off some facts about crying being a great form of stress relief. 

Walking into headquarters a few days later, you tugged at your shirt uncomfortably as you and Spencer stepped into the elevator together. You had been to the doctor the day before and they had attached you to a 24-hour heart monitor that they would use to aid in your diagnosis, and you’d be lying if you said all the wires didn’t cause you to be filled with an overwhelming feeling of insecurity. 

Taking note of your shifting, Spencer asked quietly, “Would you like to wear my jacket?”

“And give Hotch another reason to let me go?” you rebutted, your voice breaking at the end. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Spencer reassured you as the doors to the elevator opened and you two walked out and toward the BAU offices. 

It definitely felt that way though when the first thing you heard when emerging into the bullpen was Hotch calling both of your last names and saying, “You two, my office.”

Feeling like two teenagers caught in the act, when Spencer closed the door behind him, he immediately started rambling. “Hotch, please I can explain, we-”

“I don’t need an explanation, I need you to sign these forms,” your unit chief said, handing the both of you a packet of papers that you began reading even though the papers shook with the tremors in your hands. 

“If you just give me a second to-” Spencer tried again as he took the packet but didn’t so much as glance at it. 

“Sign the papers,” Hotch said, ignoring Spencer’s pleas for him to listen. 

“But-”

“Spence, read it,” you said a few moments later after you had read the summary of the form on the front page of the packet. 

At your words, Spencer finally looked down at the packet in his hands and within moments had it read, his mouth opening a little in shock as he asked Hotch, “Wait…you’re not mad?”

“Oh I’m mad. I’m mad that you two would keep such a secret from us, not only because I thought we functioned as a family here, but also because of how much your relationship played a role in that Tennessee case," Hotch told him sternly. "Seeing as even I never noticed before now and up until that case, it has never interfered with your work, I asked around and came up with some forms that should appease the higher-ups if for some reason this relationship were to get out to other teams.”

“So if we sign these forms then we’re both allowed to stay on the team as long as it doesn’t interfere with our work?” Spencer asked, slightly breathlessly. 

“Correct,” Hotch replied, the corners of his mouth almost tugging up into a smile. “We can’t afford to lose either one of you from this team.”

“Well that’s a relief…” you mumbled as you grabbed a pen out of the cup sitting on his desk and signed the paper in the appropriate places. 

“No more secrets, okay?” Hotch asked sternly as he eyed the two of you, pointing his own pen at each of you in turn. 

“No more secrets,” you both agreed, giggles flying out of both of your mouths as you looked at each other after saying the same phrase. 

“So when’s the wedding?” Derek asked with a chuckle as the two of you emerged from the office once everything was filed away. 

“Once we get her heart situation figured out because I know she’ll want to go to Europe for the honeymoon,” Spencer replied as he pulled you close and placed a kiss on your forehead. The statement made your heart leap in your chest and you began to think of excuses to tell the cardiologist about what caused that reading on the monitor. 

So with your job at the BAU still secure, you took a seat at your desk across from Spencer’s and sipped at the decaf coffee JJ had bought for the break room, completely grateful for the team, but even more so for Spencer. You weren’t sure how you would navigate this crazy and unpredictable life without him.

[dalishious]

Help the family of a martyred Palestinian journalist

Do you remember the martyred journalist, Ayat Khadoura?

(Original video from Ayat's instragram)

(Another video from Ayat you may remember seeing)

Her sister Ghadeer, and Ghadeer's children, who are still surviving in Ghazzah, need our help!

As of posting this, the GoFundMe has only reached €1,875 donations in the last couple of months; and that is to feed five people when a kilo if rice is upwards of $20. Last time my girlfriend @yetanotherlesbianonthiswebsite, one of Ghadeer's sisters, spoke to her, she said that it was never enough, and that they were experiencing extreme hunger. The situation is so serious that the number of donations coming in corresponds to being barely able to afford soap, of which one bottle has shot up to $50.

Ghadeer often writes my girlfriend about how tired she is, how scared she is about hearing the bombs fall. Recently, a school in which many people had taken refuge in Deir El-Balah mere blocks away from her was bombed by occupation forces. Can you imagine the pain of a family who cannot bury its sisters, brothers, aunts, and uncles, because their bodies are in pieces beneath rubble? Can you imagine how it feels to have more murdered siblings than living ones? Can you imagine the pain of a mother who hears their children scream? Can you imagine the pain of a family who sees the once young and happy girl become nothing but skin and bones? And yet, no genocide can last forever, and we desperately need your help to get them through this.

For anyone wondering, the GoFundMe is directly linked on Ayat's Instagram account, administrated in memoriam by Yasmin, one of the sisters, who is also the organizer of the fundraiser. (Yasmin is directly mentioned in the shared video from WaPo, as proof.)

I am asking everyone who sees this to PLEASE SHARE and also, if you can, PLEASE DONATE! Every little bit helps when it is a matter of life and safety on the line.

A few family photos are below.

Martyred siblings, Ayat, Ayoub, Suad, Alaa, and Adam, as well as Ghadeer's martyred grandparents:

Two of Ghadeer's children, Fida and Aed:

Despite everything, they shared the little food they had with a furry visitor:

[yinmndragon]

A while back I've been made aware by a fellow tumblr user(I'm so sorry I don't remember who) that in Hades II Odysseus has "a weakness for women" and has had many affairs during his journey home AND is divorced with Penelope.

And I just wanted to say... WHAT THE FUCK SUPERGIANT GAMES I was so happy with what you did with the story of Achilles and Patroclus, Orpheus and Eurydice as well. Why did you have to fuck up so bad. And also he's romanceble apparently???

Like what the hell

Odysseus is one of very few greek mythology men who's been loyal to his lover. It would've been so nice if in Hades II it was talked about how Odysseus was very much s/aed and used by those in power. We need more male s/a representation especially when it's women doing the s/aing

I will be playing Hades II anyway for I already own it however I will not be doing ANYTHING romantic with Odysseus if I can help it. I would be very happy if we could get Penelope in Hades II and be able to reunite them as we could with the previously mentioned couples

And I just wanted to say

Supergiant games

Do better

[tangocardiaca]

You are one of the most popular student in high school. You are a star of drama club. You hold the title of "The School's Prince". Can it be even better? Can you be even more popular? Can your popularity in high school skyrocket even more? The answer is: Yes. 18 years old Yuu Kashima, the star of high school drama club was offered to appear in one of the most popular morning shows in Japan. The topic of segment she was scheduled to appear on was focusing on cardiac health and first aid. Yuu Kashima was in studio lying on medical couch. She was hooked to an EKG machine, that was reading her heart rhythm, while doctor was being interviewed by tv host. But that is not all. When it was time to present first aid, two AED pads were attached to Yuu's chest. She acted like she was defibrillated, rising her chest. She really liked it. Not to mention, that Kashima's fans skipped classes and they were in the audience. They were charmed by Kashima's beauty. Yuu Kashima's popularity skyrocketed beyond limits. She was praised by students, especially female ones, who wanted to do roleplays with her.

[aceofwhump]

Broadchurch - Alec Hardy Whump Fanfics

Heart and Lungs by orphan_account Summary: Set between S02E05 and S02E06. While Ellie is at his house working on the Sandbrook case, Hardy passes out and falls in the river. Ellie rescues him and is determined to get him warm again. Whumps/TWs: near drowning, heart condition, heart attack, shower to get warm, water trauma/ptsd, caretaking, worried Ellie,

a habit takes twenty-one days to build and two years to fester by PUNK_MENACE Summary: Ellie finds Alec on the floor of his kitchen one morning. She's worried it's his heart again but when he wakes up, she realizes he hasn't been eating or sleeping properly, and it's been going on for a while. It's time for Alec to really start healing. Whumps/TWs: exhaustion, malnutrition, not taking care of oneself, collapsing, passing out, emotional whump

Deep Wide Ocean by orphan_account Summary: Post S2 AU. Claire Ripley revives the accusations of rape and abuse she made against Hardy, leading to the arrest of both Hardy and Miller. As the detectives race to clear their names, things are complicated by the revelation of new secrets and the return of Joe Miller. Whumps/TWs: rape mention, accused of rape, arrested, nightmares, ptsd, emotional whump, crying, heart condition, panic attacks, poisoned, collapsing, hospital,

Understanding of the Dark by everythingmurky Summary: Hardy becomes the focus of Joe Miller's revenge after he's forced to leave Broadchurch. Tipped off by his daughter, Ellie works to find him before it's too late. Part 1 of Valley of the Shadow Whumps/TWs: non con touching, rape/implied rape/sexual assault, kidnapped, tied up, strung up, pacemaker/heart condition, hospital, rescue, recovery, nightmares

Losing the Light by everythingmurky Summary: After being the target of Joe Miller's revenge, Hardy stayed in Broadchurch and resumed his duties as detective inspector just before a serial rapist attacked another victim. An alternate telling of season three, following the events of Understanding of the Dark. Part 2 of Valley of the Shadow Whumps/TWs: sexual assault/rape/rape recovery, trauma, nightmares, collapsing, hospital, heart condition, not taking care of oneself, intubation, worry, heart attack, non con touching,

Down By The River by nannyogg123 for Hazelmist Summary: Have you ever wondered how Alec Hardy’s and Ellie Miller’s lives would have gone, if the pendant would never have been lost? Fate still brings them together in this AU story, united in seeking justice for those who can’t speak for themselves. A slightly different take on the story we are all familiar with (eventual Alec/Ellie). Whumps/TWs: AU/alternate meeting, heart condition, exhaustion, sick, passing out, hospital, collapsing, past trauma, heart attack, aed usage, he's basically a walking mess the whole fic and it's amazing

A Million Holes Poked In The Soul - Part One by nannyogg123 Summary: This is Part One of the story - Alec Hardy's weeks leading up to the Sandbrook case... Where Alec is planning on taking his daughter to a wedding, but life gets in the way. (AU as we don't know much about life before Sandbrook) Part Two will focus on the Sandbrook case and how it rips Alec Hardy's life apart. There is no Ellie Miller in his life yet, but there is Daisy...Part 1 of A Million Holes Poked In The Soul and is a prequel of sorts to Down By The River Whumps/TWs: AU, heart condition, lightheaded, dizzy, passing out, hospital, heart attack, nightmares, emotional whump/angst,

A Million Holes Poked In The Soul - Part Two by nannyogg123 Summary: This is the story of the Sandbrook case and how it will rip Alec Hardy's life apart. It's a direct continuation of "A Million Holes Poked In The Soul – Part One", and we will meet familiar OCs. So, reading Part One is recommended to put certain things in context, but you can chose not to. A brief synopsis is provided. It may all be AU. Naturally there are spoilers for both seasons. Part 2 of A Million Holes Poked In The Soul Whumps/TWs: This is insanely whumpy and so good. Lots of scenes related to his increasingly worse heart condition, emotional whump and angst, hospital stays, passing out, nearly dying, and more.

A Million Holes Poked In The Soul - Part Three by nannyogg123 Summary: This is the conclusion of “A Million Holes Poked In The Soul”. It’s the final part that deals with the Sandbrook case aftermath and leads up to Alec Hardy coming to Broadchurch. Reading Part One & Two is strongly recommended as this story is a direct continuation. Part 3 of A Million Holes Poked In The Soul Whumps/TWs: Pretty much the same as part 2

the light fails and the fog rolls in by Anonymous Summary: Of course it's Miller who finds him crying on the office floor. Whumps/TWs: emotional whump, crying, tears, comfort,

Wrong Moves by marshmallowfluffiness Summary: Alec decided to stay in Broadchurch and got his job back, and his daughter's life is in danger. An unexpected and highly unliked character returns and it's up to the people to defend themselves. Can the people of Broadchurch take another emotional blow? Can Ellie and Alec survive this? Whumps/TWs: kidnapped, waterboarded, torture, beaten, left to die, hospital, nearly killed, coma, nightmares, strangled,caring broadchurch members, caught in an explosion, character death, severe depression, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, major character death, unhappy ending

Her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me by SubwayToHellAndBack Summary: Breathe. He can’t stand watching Miller be so much better at this than him. He doesn’t know how to help and keeps asking Trish the wrong questions. Even though they are the only questions he knows how to ask right now. He can’t tell her what he would like to tell her. So, he keeps on asking these bloody, insensitive questions and letting Miller do all the comforting and talking with that stupid soft voice she’s got. He’s mostly just concentrating on trying to breathe and keeping a calm exterior. It's been working quite well so far if he says so himself. It is making him seem a little grumpier than he would like to be at the moment but it's fine, it’s nothing Miller’s not used to from him by now. She’ll get over it even if she looks at him with this sort of motherly disappointed look. Breathe. Or. A season three rewrite in which Alec deals (tries to avoid) with some past trauma of his and when Ellie finds out about it she's there to help him with it and they become closer than ever. Whumps/TWs: rape, panic attack, past trauma

Alt. Day 28 - Sensory Overload by biscuits_and_whiskey Summary: There’s a reason Hardy hides in his office. Why he generally abstains from prolonged socialization. Why he only has Ellie as a friend. Because generally? People are a lot. And massive social gatherings are not his forte. Whumps/TWs: social anxiety, sensory overload,

Garbage Bins and Denial by twelvehotairballoons Summary: Alec Hardy did not take sick days. Except for when he did, apparently, and Ellie was not about to let him take it all alone. Whumps/TWs: sick, nauseous, emeto/vomiting, caretaking

Broken/Break by InSpaceYoghurt Summary: Hardy was going to murder the person who lost their booking. He had specifically called in and asked for two SEPARATE beds. He would have asked for separate ROOMS if he could afford it. And for good reason, too. The last thing he needed was for his colleague // only friend to find him crying, alone, sitting on the bathroom floor. Whumps/TWs: nightmare, heart condition, caretaking

Save Me by Ilovecastiel18 Summary: Post-series. Hardy almost drowns during a case. Ellie has to calm him down. Hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff. One-Shot. Whumps/TWs: near drowning, panic attack, caretaking/comfort,

Never Again by Rosencrantz95 Summary: In which Alec gets hurt while pursuing a suspect, but he’s fine, really. At least he thinks so. Nothing can be wrong with him because he’s had that damn surgery! He’s fine now! Nothing can be wrong with him. He can’t go back to the worst year (what was almost the LAST year) of his life. He can’t do it. Never again. Whumps/TWs: hit in the chest and goes down hard, heart condition, lightheaded, exhaustion, chest pain, emeto/vomiting, collapsing, passing out, Ellie whump, surgery, Daisy is kidnapped, choked,

Kinsley Road by biscuits_and_whiskey Summary: Broadchurch is dealing with a street gang problem. Hardy and Miller have arrested the leader of a local gang, the Kinsley Road Boys. The gang, in turn, retaliates by targeting Hardy. Whumps/TWs: badly beaten, nearly killed,

Petrol Burns by biscuits_and_whiskey Summary: Alec has been kidnapped; Ellie and Katie are on the trail of his kidnapper and discover the terrifying fate he'd planned for Hardy. Whumps/TWs: kidnapped, captivity, emotional whump, tied up, gagged, beaten, rescue, crying, hugging

Seventeen Suits and a Beacon by RuntotheForest Summary: Ellie and Alec find themselves in a dangerous and seemingly impossible situation. How will they get out of it? Part 1 of Forged in Fire Whumps/TWs: shot, bleeding out, can't get to medical treatment, field medicine

The Grief That Does Not Speak by RuntotheForest Summary: Ellie and Alec deal with physical and emotional fallout from their harrowing day (as described in "Seventeen Suits and A Beacon") Part 2 of Forged in Fire Whumps/TWs: recovery, injury recovery, emeto/vomiting, emotional whump, bleeding, passing out, pain, nightmares, fever, hospital

The Trouble With Normal by RuntotheForest Summary: After the events described in the previous two installments in the series, Alec and Ellie attempt to ease their way into a 'normal' life and relationship, but various issues arise that seem to make 'normal' more challenging than it needs to be. Part 3 of Forged in Fire Whumps/TWs: injury recovery, physical therapy, pain, drugged, non con cuddling, passing out, sick, nightmares, fever

A Shoulder to Lean On by RuntotheForest Summary: When Alec and Ellie head out to make an arrest, things don't go as planned. Whumps/TWs: hit by a car, shoulder injury, pacemaker, injury recover, concussion, sick, dizziness, emeto/vomiting, caretaking,

Pacemaker series by TheBasilRathbone Summary: Alternate First Meeting - If Hardy had never taken the job in Broadchurch in the first place. 7 part series Whumps/TWs: heart condition

Late night in the police station by fan_fics_are_life Summary: Alec ignores his headache and ends up passing out on Ellie. Whumps/TWs: headache, pain, passing out, caretaking

Open Water by biscuits_and_whiskey Summary: Post-S3 For Ellie Miller, life can only be normal for so long. When a figure from her past reappears and takes D.I. Hardy, Ellie struggles dealing with fears both past and present. D.I. Hardy, meanwhile, struggles to survive when his fear is leveraged against him. Whumps/TWs: kidnapped, torture, tied up, starvation, hallucinations, drowning/near drowning as a torture technique, fear, whipping, rescue,

The shift by keyrousse Summary: Alec gets hurt as a consequence of his last case. Ellie has to help him during his recovery and discovers a new side of him in the process. Whumps/TWs: hit by a car, attempted murder, hospital, broken bones, traumatic amnesia, inujry recovery,

Stopgap by sunbeamruins Summary: A slight season 2 AU picking up between the events of episodes 3 and 4 where Lee uses his break in to Hardy's house for more nefarious purposes, and the fall out from said actions. Whumps/TWs: Graphic depictions of rape, rape recovery,

Friends and foes by marlowe78 Summary: Even as he realized where he was – in a field, wet and wobbly and confused, about ten miles out of Broadchurch – he knew that something very, very not good had happened. Because the last thing he clearly remembered was picking up his daughter from school. Whumps/TWs: traumatic amnesia, kidnapped, casefic, noncon touching, strong language, drugged,

Stained Red by Ellezaria Summary: Alec gets in the way of a bullet aimed for Ellie and Ellie is not pleased. Whumps/TWs: shot

Cold Case by shambling Summary: A man has been reported missing, and its all routine; Alec goes off to talk to his boss and Ellie stays behind to direct resources. But things are never that simple. Whumps/TWs: knocked out, locked in a freezer, hypothermia

There Is One Consolation In Being Sick; And That Is The Possibility That You May Recover To A Better State Than You Were Ever In Before by Lord_What_Fools_These_Mortals_Be Summary: When Hardy doesn't turn up to work one day, Ellie goes round to his house to investigate. She finds a very sick, or in his words "completely fine" Hardy, and takes it upon herself to care for him, even if that means force-feeding him chicken soup. Whumps/TWs: sick, emeto/vomiting, caretaking,

Five Times Alec Hardy Was Inconvenienced by His Pacemaker (And One Time He Wasn’t) by GnomeIgnominious Summary: Ellie notices a lot about Alec in the year following his pacemaker surgery. He goes through a very subtle personality change, as though the Dorset weather is finally eroding him into something a little more happy. It's not without its teething problems, though Whumps/TWs: pacemaker, heart condition

She Hates Him, She's Sure of It. At Least, She Was Sure of It. by WhumpTown Summary: "No more broken heart." Episodes come far and few between, nightmares send him into wheezing fits but they don't nearly kill him anymore. One episode, one he can't even remember, ruins everything they'd fought for. He finds himself on the table again but this time, it's not nearly the same. Whumps/TWs: struggling to breathe, pacemaker, heart condition, surgery, collapsing, defibrillation, recovery,

[turtletaubwrites]

Lynna Life Update! (good shit)

Passed my background checks. Big Brother either didn’t find my smut, or they’re totally chill about all of us heathens, and our imaginary polycules 😏🥰😅

(Below the cut content warnings: discussion of big stress but with relief, brief mention of my mental health disorders, work stress/drama, brief mention of medical visits required for new job, the stress of responsibilities and concerns for clients support needs)

Last week was absolutely wild.

I asked for 3 weeks before my start date so I could get set up before alerting the old job (in case the old one retaliated like they did to other managers that called them out). I put in my two weeks on Friday, then spent the entire weekend in a panic about the conditional requirements for the new job offer.

My OCD, and PTSD were acting up like crazy, no thoughts but the worst possible scenarios. Main concern was references since that company was the only related position I’ve ever held, and before that I was self employed or bartending. I was terrified that these people I gave everything to for five years would be petty (like I’ve seen them be for the past year) (especially since they are fucked without me, this county has literally no one else to manage it).

In one week while working with clients full time, I passed multiple background checks + fingerprinting, got the in person CPR/AED/First Aid certification, got another round of flu and covid shots, passed my physical (isn’t it just so crazy that companies aren’t allowed to discriminate against employees with disabilities when hiring, but if people share their disabilities during their work physical they often don’t get the job? And if they’re caught lying during the hiring process the companies are legally protected when they fire them for those same disabilities that they wouldn’t have gotten hired for 🤔🤷‍♀️ so totally weird right, what’s up with that?), got my tb test started, and supplied all of the necessary documents.

All I have left are the references.

… and I still haven’t heard back from the boss.

But the hiring manager called today and I explained (lightly, lol) my concerns with the previous company, and she said I don’t need to use him, and I don’t even need related or recent references. I still don’t have a lot since I was there for so long, but I’ve got a list to call this week.

Now it’s just the chaos of helping my clients who will have no support when I leave in two weeks.

I’ve only written 2.5 scenes of my outlined draft for chapter 35 😭😭 I’m hoping I can write more this week now that I’m not in full blown panic mode, but I have so much to do to get my clients set up before I leave.

There’s just not enough time to help them with all of their needs, but I’m hoping to leave a roadmap for them and whoever their next support might be.

I’m trying not to feel guilty. I’m trying to figure out a way to tell them to get a different fucking program, but unfortunately I’ll still be interacting with the same government agency they report to at the old company, so I don’t want to be unprofessional.

I’m in mega stress, chronic mama bear, overly responsible brain mode, and my head is spinning.

But y’all…

I’m finally feeling happy and confident that I got that job again after a week of panic.

It’s exactly the job I wanted, it fits every stipulation, and it’s even better! I want to start right this second. The hiring manager even asked if I want to start next week, but I need to support my clients.

I also need to eat some food now though, holy crap. I can’t believe I did all of that in 7 days. Bonkers.

Two more weeks!! Anyone got some tasteful/affordable recommendations for office attire? Lol, I’ll be dressing like Numbers Girl in her boring life soon 😅

Can’t wait to catch a breath and catch up with y’all 😭🥰

~Lynna 💜✨

[soupbabe]

Hey there! I was hoping to request how the Hewitts (Monty, Hoyt, Luda, and Tommy) react to Thomas' s/o saving their lives after a medical emergency, like a heart attack or seizure or something. Maybe the reader was a nurse/doctor before coming down to texas and it being pretty early on in Thomas and the reader's relationship, saving their lives kind of cements them as part of the family. male reader, if you don't mind

The Hewitt Family reacting to Thomas's Male! Doctor! S/o

I love love loved this prompt!! My mind was scattered so I hope you're alright with headcanons 😅 this is def more Hoyt and Monty focussed so I hope you don't mind

Tagging: @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @devil-doll13

Warnings: not a lot, just like some aspects of homophobia mentioned for like 2 bullet points

- I think you were a saving grace to this family, truly

- we've all seen them play doctor at home and it never ends well

- Especially for Monty

- But you weren't kept around for your medical advice, you were spared because you thought Thomas was handsome

- I think Luda Mae might've been the only one to welcome you so quickly, just because you mattered so much to Thomas

- He was so nervous about it, especially since Hoyt and Monty have been less than kind about you and him

- Their lack of respect definitely stems from some level of homophobia- they definitely view gay men as people who are inherently less masculine and therefore have to prove themselves in order to stick around

- How they treat you is dependent on your worth and work as a man and what you can serve to them

- Though I think everything changes once Hoyt suffers a heart attack

- The Hewitts were all in disarray- it was very sudden and they didn't know what to do (not to mention Hoyt would've been still agitated about the whole thing and how people were acting)

- Until you came in, took control of the situation, and mentioned you were a doctor

- It was all a matter of luck honestly- you were lucky to have a bottle of aspirin in your bag when you first arrived and an AED put in at the old police station

- You had to stay with Hoyt, Monty, and Luda Mae while Thomas ran out and get it

- While your boyfriend was away, you were dealing with making sure Hoyt stays conscious, listening to Monty telling you to hurry up and reminding you to not call 911, and explaining to Luda what was happening

- It was all very hectic and you handled it like a champ tbh

- Afterwards was a very tense couple of days

- I think Hoyt does have a little bit of appreciation of what you've done, he's a tiny tiny miniscule bit of honorable in that regard

- Definitely solidified your place in the family no matter what happens between you and Thomas

- Hoyt and Monty still poke fun and ridicule you from time to time, but it's a lot less harsh

- They recognize the effort you put in to the family and taking care of everyone

- Hell any man is respectable if you willingly volunteer to change Monty's old ass bandages

[hongmingoo]

Breaking Down

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x reader

Synopsis: Wonwoo didn’t hear the last part for your dying breath to him, only hearing up to “I’m sorry, Wonwoo” and began to swirl into the depths of self-loathing. The story of the people you left behind. 

Spin-off of Untitled,

Inspired by: Breaking Down by Ailee | Doom at Your Service | Hi Bye, Mama!

Word count: 3.4+k

Warnings: MINORS DNI | Major character death, critical ilness, heavy angst, very slight mention of suicide, mental illness, self loathe, hurt, grieving, depression, ghost!reader. Let me know if i miss anything.

a/n: I just wrote this story in one go, a product of my overwhelmed feelings poured into writing. It might not be as good and there might be grammatical errors and typos too but please pardon me anyways. Please enjoy, and do reblog and like this story to support me 🙂<3

You gasped, at the sight before you. 

Wonwoo was breaking down, crumbling into himself. He was tearing himself apart, shredding every last bit hope that held his person together with his own bare hands. He wouldn’t listen to anything anyone says, wouldn’t let anyone come near him. He shut himself from the world, diving head first into deepest pit of misery known to man. And it was because of you. 

“I love you, Wonwoo. My love…” you breathed but he didn’t hear you. Tears are blurring your vision as you watched the scene unfolding before you– Wonwoo clutching your lifeless body tightly in his arms as he sobbed his heart out on your chest, desperately trying to find your heartbeat.  Your brother burst through the door, with a bunch of nurses and doctors in tow. 

“AED. Intubation.” he called out to one of the residents. A nurse pushed through with a cart equipped with the machine, charging it as she placed all the pads needed onto your body. She held out the paddles for Joshua to take but he gulped. He looked over to his wife, who finished intubating you, and nodded. Joshua stepped back, letting his wife take over the process as his hands trembled in fear. He collected Wonwoo in his arms, rubbing circles on his back as he watched the painful process of reviving you. 

“Come on, Y/n. Come back to us” Iris croaked as she pumped at your chest while the machine are being charged and placing paddle for shock. 

It has been 30 solid minutes, the resident at head of the bed was getting tired of pumping oxygen into your airways with no response. His posture began to falter that the airbag slipped from his grip.

“Pull yourself together!” Iris barked, hands still pumping at your chest. 

“Enough” Joshua called out, the residents and nurses stopped immediately at their Head of Department’s order but Iris does not relent.

“What are you doing? Move your hands!” she argued, voice breaking. 

“Iris. Enough. You’re hurting my sister” Joshua warned, his voice firm and demanding. Iris turned to argue her points but the words died on her tongue immediately. His eyes are hard but filled with pain. Clear droplets are lining his waterlines glazing his dark brown orbs. Wonwoo broke free from his grasp, tugging at his collar roughly. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!! REVIVE HER!! ARE YOU GIVING UP ON HER?? SHE’S YOUR SISTER!! MY WIFE!!” he screamed, shaking the older man, desperation clear in his voice. 

“I’m never giving up on her. But i won’t hurt my baby sister anymore, Wonwoo. She doesn’t deserve to be in pain anymore” Joshua replied, his voice surprisingly calm. Wonwoo opened and his closes his mouth, unable to utter any words out. He knew his brother was right, you have been in pain for so long. You doesn’t deserve to suffer anymore but he can’t just let you go. Not when he made you cry until the end of your breath, not when you apologized to him for something that wasn’t your fault. Not when he’s sure you hated him. 

“No… No… Y/n… She apologized to me. Her last words were ‘I’m sorry, Wonwoo’. She cried and apologized to me, when she did nothing wrong. How am I supposed to live with that?! How can I apologize to her if she leave me like this?” he rambled, looking back and forth between your body and Joshua. Silently praying that he’ll agree to save you again, to bring you back so that he won’t wallow in regret. 

“Patient name, Hong Y/n. Age 36. Time of death, 0415am, December 30th 20xx” Joshua announced, staring at his wrist watch to avoid the gaze lingering upon him. Wonwoo fell down to his knees, before he began yelling and screaming from the news. The doctors tried their hardest to hold him back, but he was tall and big, the tallest among them. It took 5 of them to hold him as he fought back, trying to reach for you. 

“Give him the sedative” he heard in the back of his mind, eyes never leaving you even as his vision blurry from his own tears. 

“Wonwoo-hyung” he heard this time, saw a vision of Mingyu rushing to him as his vision fades and he blacked out. 

You stood there, invisible to everyone’s eyes as the chaos ensues in the midst of the cold and quiet atmosphere of the hospital. You watched Wonwoo broke down, Iris trying her hardest to hold back her tears as she worked on you. And you watched Joshua swallow his tears and pain– trying to be the mature adult here, acting as the responsible guardian that he is.

But you could see it in his eyes, the pain, disappointment, loneliness and most importantly, sadness. It was his 43th birthday today, you promised to give him a scarf that you’ve trying your hardest to knit, celebrate his birthday together with a cup of warm latte and croffle on the rooftop of the hospital today, while you guys plan what to do for your birthday on the 7th of January. It has been your sibling tradition for years since your mom passed away. You both always made time for each other despite your busy schedules to spend these two days with just each other.

“You broke your promise. You’d have to stand on your hands for 1 minute straight now” he mumbled under his breath, as if he knew you’re there, right next to him all the time. 

“You can all go. I’ll finish up here. Mingyu, please bring Wonwoo to the next room so that Iris can check on him. The rest are dismissed. Thank you for your hard work” Joshua said, as he bowed deeply to his staffs. They all stepped out of the room, leaving him behind the closed door reluctantly. Iris and Mingyu lingered in front of the front door, hesitant to take the next step. But they knew Joshua needed the time alone. It wasn’t until they heard Joshua’s painful wail that they bawled their eyes too. The man was still bowing towards the door, as he let out the sobs that he held back an hour ago into the empty space of the cold ward room. He then walked to the bed and took a seat at the edge, caressing your pale face with his knuckles gently. 

“You’re still warm. My baby…” he sobbed, choking on his own tears.

“Shua…” you cried, sitting behind him, resting your head on his back, arms wrapping around his torso. 

“Why did you take her away too early, mom? I wasn’t ready to let go of her yet. I feel like I haven't taken care of her enough. I wasn’t a good brother to her. I haven’t done enough for her” he paused, taking a deep breath to calm himself. 

“But I'm sure you want to spend time with her more now, since you too didn’t get to spend enough time with her before. I hope that you’ll be happy together. I’ll send Y/n off properly, so please take care of her again, omma. I love you both so much” he exhaled his shaky breath, trying to manage a proper smile, but he wasn’t able to hide the pain he’s feeling right at the moment. So, joshua allowed himself to breakdown, bawling his eyes out, as hugged his sister’s lifeless body tight. 

“You’re the best brother I could ever ask for, Shua. I love you so much and I’m sorry for leaving you behind”

Wonwoo woke up two days later, for the funeral. To be honest, he didn’t have the slightest energy to carry himself around, let alone arrange the  funeral and visitation. He let Mingyu dragged him to the bathroom to wash him and dress him, tidying his hair, applying chapstick to his cracked lips. He let the younger fed him water, any sort of food he can bring himself to chew, only to vomit them all out mere minutes later. He let himself be walked to the funeral hall, where he saw the portrait of you smiling so brightly, sitting at the center of the of the parlor surrounded by white chrysanthemums. The younger gently sat him down on the cushions to the side so he could lean on the wall. 

Joshua came, wrapping the same band that he’s wearing for chief mourners around his right arm. 

“Just stay here, with her. I’ll handle everything, okay?” he asked, staring into Wonwoo’s lifeless orbs who stared back at him blankly. He squeezed the younger’s shoulders for encouragement before moving away to greet guests and handled everything that needs to be done. He doesn’t care. He can’t. How could he?   

He lost you. He lost the light that shines his being, his meaningless life. And losing you meant losing his life too. He felt like it was his fault, that you suffered, till the end of your breath, that you cried for him and you apologized to him instead of saying you love him. 

Why did you apologize? You didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t your fault that you got sick. You didn’t ask to fall ill. You never did. Even in the worst moment, you were still smiling at him. You still hug him, assured him, that everything will be okay eventually. But because he cried, he begged you not to leave him. He begged, pleaded and asked for mercy that you’d stay with him just a day longer, an hour, a minute, a second longer as your life wilted away.

He had wept in your arms when you were in absolute pain, that you apologized to him for leaving him behind as your last breath. He kind of thought that he deserves this. This is his punishment for being so selfish, for forcing to to go through all all those painful therapies that worn out your fragile body day by day. He doesn’t deserve you.

 He let everyone stares at him as he cried yet again, staring into the walls of the hall with empty eyes. He let those who mocked him be for being so irresponsible on his own wife’s funeral. He let those judgemental stares pierced through his soul, because there’s nothing he could think of other than you’re not being with him anymore. He let those nasty whispers ran through his mind when people scoffed at him for being pathetic. He let his mom hug him and cried for him when he didn’t respond to her calls. He let Iris took away your son to comfort him when the three year old boy cried for his dad. 

But you were there, right in front of him, as he stared up at your portrait when everyone already left. You have been there from the very beginning, watching him, staying with him. He just couldn’t hear or see you. It breaks your heart to see him like this. He gave up on his life. Your Wonwoo, who was the optimistic being, the thoughtful and caring Wonwoo, let himself be eaten alive by guilt. 

“Baby, please don’t cry… please stop blaming yourself…” you plead, only for it to fall on deaf ears. 

You didn’t leave him after that too, continued to stay by him even after he went home. Wonwoo locked himself in your bedroom as soon as he reached home, reaching for the last hoodie you wore and hug it close to his chest as he tried to fall asleep. He let his parents take your son back to Changwon, didn’t promise them he’d come visit, won’t say he’ll be okay by himself. Just let them leave, without a word. 

Wonwoo didn’t eat, for like 2 months, only surviving with water. He didn’t touch the food Mingyu cooked for him even after the guy practically moved in with him uninvited to care for him. Joshua came by too, every two days two check in on him, buying groceries for him every weekend and even went to Changwon to visit his nephew. But Wonwoo still didn’t budge from his bed. He didn’t wash nor clean himself. Didn’t go to work either, luckily Seungcheol understood and let him on unpaid leave for a year. But he silently paid for his commitments and gave money for his son’s needs to his parents in Changwon. They silently agreed among their group of friends to support Wonwoo with everything he would need until he can stand on his feet again, no matter how long it would take. 

Your husband let himself suffer, torturing himself by not taking the nutrients his body needs. But he didn’t try to inflict injury upon himself either, only letting life fades away just like that. It wasn’t a good thing, but you’re glad that he didn’t try to take away his life drastically. 

In the third month, Soonyoung forces a piece of kimbap into his mouth, begging him to eat, pleading and crying on his knees because he could’t bare to see his best friend like a zombie anymore. 

“Wonjunnie misses his appa, Wonwoo-yah. Please come back” he sobbed, wrapping his arms around his friend’s thin shoulders. Wonwoo let his tears fall yet again, but he’s too tired to say anything. He couldn’t bring himself to. 

It wasn’t until a year, that he’s able to walk out of the house again. But not without help, of course. Mingyu would help him walk, while Soonyoung drives him around. He visited your resting place for the first time, sitting next to your mom’s. It was filled with photos of you, during youth, wedding photo, pregnancy photo and everything memorial about you. He choked up again, telling you how he misses you so much. 

Soonyoung then drove them back to his parents home, to reconnect with his son. It brought tears to his eyes yet again, to be reminded of how much the boy resembles his mother. His eyes, nose and cheeks. The way he talks, his way of expressing himself, all of it reminds Wonwoo of you.

“I’m sorry, my Wonjun. I don’t have any strength to take care of you right now. I can’t be a good father for you in my state right now. I don’t want to hurt you. I promise I'll come for you as soon as I’m ready. Please know that I love you very very very much, my son. I’m so sorry, my Wonjun” he sobbed, hugging his son’s tiny body in his weak arms. The boy pulled away to stare into his eyes, his tiny hand reaching up to wipe the tears away from his father’s eyes. 

“I’ll pray that mama will take away all of your pain, papa. Please don’t cry” he pouted, eyes beginning to water too. Wonwoo pulled his son into his embrace again, tighter this time, crying his heart out. The boy doesn’t have to know that his mother had cried in her last moments. He also doesn’t have to know that his mother might have hated his father. 

“Your time is almost up, Y/n. You have to leave” a voice called out. You turned around from staring at Wonwoo to lock eyes with the person behind you. Rather than a person, he’s a deity. 

“How can I leave when he’s still like that?”

“Your five years are almost up. You have to go”

“Tell me how to reach him first. I can’t leave him like this. He’s blaming himself. He thought that I hated him!” you argued. 

“There’s nothing I can do. He won’t let anyone help him. He has no hope anymore in him”

“Then give him hope, Jeonghan! You’re a deity! For fucks sake!” you screamed, irritated at the long haired man. You were more desperate than irritated actually. You have been trying to connect with Wonwoo, get into his subconsciousness for almost five years to free him of his guilt. But he won’t let you in. he had lost all hope in him. Wonwoo is broken.

And your time is running out. If you don’t leave until your five years are up, you’ll be mindless evil spirit. Bounded to this world forever, and harming people. You might even harm your beloved ones. You'd hate that.

“What hope should I give? You knew nothing worked for him” Jeonghan sighed.

“Anything! A new woman? So that he forgets me” you gritted, frustrated at yourself. Jeonghan eyed you.

“Would you actually want that?”

“I’d do anything to save him” you exhaled. You knew it wouldn’t work. Jeonghan tried it before. Introducing someone new to Wonwoo but it only ended up offending him and Joshua. They thought he was inconsiderate of them and didn’t respect the bond they have with you. But you can’t hover around Wonjun either because he’s a child and still so vulnerable to attacks. You need someone to coax Wonwoo to open up his heart, which he locked away for the longest time, so you could slip inside and let him know how you actually feel.

To your relief, that person was Joshua, your brother, your ever saviour. He had cried after a long time, begging your husband to talk to him, to them, because they can’t see him like that anymore.

Maybe it was Jeonghan who told him about the dire situation you are in now, or maybe it was his instinct because Joshua has always been observant of you. You have been hovering over him long enough for him to catch up on supernatural feels. He wasn’t the one to believe that sorts of things, but if it was a chance to save his brother, to pull Wonwoo back to himself, he was willing to do everything that it takes. 

Finally, after years of trying, you slipped into Wonwoo’s subconsciousness. You saw him sitting in the dark corner alone, and lonely. 

“Wonwoo, baby?” you called out. His head whipped to your direction immediately upon hearin the voice he missed the most. 

“Y/n” he broke down, running into your arms and you gladly receives him, kissing his face that you missed dearly. You kissed him on his hair as he cried his heart out, telling you how much he misses you. That he wished he'd died with you too. You let him weep for who knows how long, until he can breathe properly again.

“I love you so, so, so much Wonwoo my love. There isn’t a moment of time that I didn’t. Please don’t be in pain anymore. Please live happily with our Wonjunnie. And please keep me in your memory always. I’ll always be here for you. I love you. I love you so much, my love” you say, staring into his glassy eyes.

You knew you can’t stay there for long, you’re not a deity. Wonwoo is bound to wake up again. And you wouldn’t want anything more than that. You’ve said what you needed to. You saw that the frowns on his brows has faded a bit from your assurance. The dark, and gloomy place has begin to fill with colours. The chains of his heart has been broken and the guilt he felt is slowly vanishing. Your job is done and you need to go. With a deep breath, you let Wonwoo go, staring at his handsome face as you backed away– towards Jeonghan who was waiting for you. 

“I love you, Jeon Wonwoo” you say one last time before vanishing. 

Wonwoo’s eyes shot open, seeing he's passed out at Joshua's couch as usual. The windows are open a bit to let the cool air in. And for the first time in a while, he can breathe properly. The heavy feelings confining his chest have dissipated and he believed that it's your doing. 

"I love you, Y/n. Thank you for staying with me"

And that night, Wonwoo realized that you might not be there with him physically, but you'll always be there in his heart and mind. 

-Fin-

[girlcprfan]

the pedophile wanting to apologize saying that I defamed him so that he would give me CPR videos and the worst thing is the people who believe him hahahaha, those same people are just as sick as him for enjoying watching a scene of a girl with a bare chest receiving CPR and By the way, where does it say in the conversation that I asked for videos?

[greatandquestionablecontent]

Whumptober Day 3 - Set Up For Failure

Lexan's POV

Major character death TW

It was amazing how calm I was, or it would have been if I’d actually done anything. Instead I just stood there and watched it all, feeling nothing and doing nothing. It was like watching a documentary, but the only thing the narrator had to say in between the audio was, “He was already dead.”

Sparkplug and Livia took turns doing CPR, their teamwork smooth and perfect. They matched each other’s pace like gears fitting together, one did rescue breaths while the other pumped Aubrey’s nonresponsive chest. North brought an AED Sparkplug cut his shirt and binder away, muttering, "Sorry, bud," as she did.

“Clear!”

He was already dead.

“Clear!”

He was already dead.

The ambulance didn’t arrive for another forty minutes. I brought everyone water and heard my voice insist they drink some. North lit a cigarette. Sparkplug started crying, and I brought her a tissue when it was Livia’s turn on compressions, and we didn’t mention it, and after a bit she stopped crying, and the whole time CPR kept going. I felt that beat ticking in my brain. Ha ha ha ha stayin’ alive.

He was already dead.

[sixhours]

Chapter 6 - The Ghosts of Babylon

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut and violence Series tags: Joel Miller x You, Joel Miller x Reader, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, LGBTQ+ characters, y/n is bi/pan, y/n is ~45, violence, pregnancy, abortion, medical trauma, emotional trauma, panic attacks, sex work, suicide, smut, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, romance, no use of y/n, reader has longish hair, Joel can lift you, smallish age gap (~11 years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

You’re tending to a patroller’s sprained finger in the back of the clinic when you hear a commotion from the waiting area, panicked yelling. The flashback takes you the way it usually does, sudden and violent, stealing your breath, your heart a pounding rush in your ears.

You’re standing in a hallway full of gurneys, watching Joanna’s jerky, painful crawl toward you as you try desperately to kick her away. Your white sneakers slip and slide on fresh pools of blood as your girlfriend reaches and grabs for your ankle, her grip cold and burning up at the same time.

Jo.

You swallow hard, coming to. You’re not at the hospital, you’re in Jackson.

Not now. Not now, can’t do that now.

“Handle this,” you snap at the watching nurse, hoping she doesn’t hear the tremor in your voice.

“Lemme go! No! I need her !” The voice is high and plaintive, young and scared.

“Ellie?”

You step through the waiting room doors to see the girl struggling with a male nurse, desperate and flailing. Her eyes lock on yours, filling with relief.

“Joel…his heart…” the girl starts, then bursts into tears.

Shit.

You grab the portable defibrillator and the med kit you keep by the door, following the girl out of the clinic. “I’m going, it’s at the end of Rancher Street, send backup,” you tell the nurse behind you.

The door to the house is wide open when Ellie and you crash into the living room. Joel is sitting back to the wall of the kitchen island, clutching at his left shoulder with a grimace, conscious, but his skin is sickly gray and shining with sweat.

You’re on your knees next to him, feeling for a pulse, ripping the buttons off his flannel armor with practiced ease. His exposed chest heaves in fast, gasping breaths. “Joel? Can you talk?”

He gives a nod but doesn’t speak, eyes shining with fear.

“Did you take anything?” you ask. He shakes his head once.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Ellie’s wavering voice interrupts, and you turn, having momentarily forgotten she was there. 

“Ellie, I need you to go get your uncle,” you say, thinking fast. “Can you do that?”

“Uncle…you mean Tommy?”

“Yes. Hurry.”

She runs off and you turn back to Joel. You can’t work with her standing over you, and if you need to use the AED, you don’t want her to see it.

“Sure you didn’t take anything? Pills? Been drinking?”

“Don’t drink,” he gasps out. “My shoulder–”

“Family history of heart attacks? High blood pressure, anything like that?”

“Dunno,” he grits his teeth. “Parents died…early…”

You pull a stethoscope from your go bag, fitting the earpieces and pressing the pad just above his sternum, listening for the telltale signs of arrhythmia. His heartbeat is fast but regular, galloping in his chest.

“Breathe,” you say. “Deep breaths.”

He shakes his head but does as he’s told, slowing his breath down. His face begins to regain its color with each exhale.

You sit back on your heels, pulling the stethoscope down. “You might have had a small one…but I don’t think you’re having a heart attack right now.”

He looks up at you, confused.

“I want to get you back to the clinic for an EKG so we can be sure.”

“No–”

“Not an option,” you cut him off. “If not for you, then for Ellie. She’s scared as hell and needs to know you’re going to be okay.”

At the mention of his daughter, he’s suddenly recalcitrant, scowling but nodding.

You pause, thinking. “Have you had panic attacks before, Miller?”

He meets your eyes in a silent glare as if to say, who hasn’t?

“This was different. Shoulder’s been givin’ me grief, my whole arm went numb. It’s never been like that.”

“May I take a look at your arm?”

He looks like he’s going to refuse, but then reneges, stiffly moving to pull down his left sleeve in an attempt to slide it off. The movement is enough to make him cry out in pain.

“Easy, easy. Let me.”

You slide the sleeve off his arm, running up the smooth, warm muscle of his bicep and around to his back, examining his body in a way you’ve never been allowed before.

“Fuck,” he snaps when you press into the meat of his shoulder, flinching and hissing in pain.

“Aha. Ever had a rotator cuff injury?”

He shakes his head, grimacing as you probe the tender area and the muscles and tendons around it.

“Well, Miller, I think that’s what you have here. Could be just a strain, could be a tear, hard to know for sure without proper imaging.”

“That all?”

“You’re not young,” you say. “You lift something the wrong way, twist yourself into a tight space, pinch a nerve…even a few rounds of particularly athletic sex can do damage at your age.”

At your age.

“Like, say…up against a wall,” you continue, lips quirking in a distinctly unprofessional smirk.

The look in his eyes says he either wants to throttle you or rip your clothes off and take you right here on the floor. You know the line between the two is razor-thin.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond because there’s a flurry of activity at the door. Ellie has returned with Tommy, and the backup you requested is right behind them. Thankfully it doesn’t look like you’re going to need it.

“Think you can walk, Miller? Or do we need the stretcher?”

~*~

The neighborhood asshole is surprisingly pliant as you apply the sticky pads and wires to his torso. You get to see the scar on his abdomen– not a bite , you decide–and this time he doesn’t flinch when you touch it in passing.

Ellie stays by his side as you wait for the machine to take a reading, biting her cuticles and watching him like he might evaporate into dust if she takes her eyes off him for a second.

The protector becomes the protected.

The girl’s eyes drift to the scar on his abdomen, and you don’t read curiosity in her gaze, only memory, something painful and deep. His hand reaches for hers and holds it tight, and you have to turn away. The exchange lasts mere seconds but leaves you feeling like an intruder.

Well, you are.

The EKG is clear, as you suspected it would be, and you return with the good news. You lean against the door frame of the exam room, suddenly bone-tired.

“I think we should do an echo to be safe, but it doesn’t have to be tonight. I’m going to give you a brace for your shoulder. You need to wear it,” you say to Joel, emphasizing each word. “If you don’t keep it stable, it could tear. And no lifting. Nothing…athletic.”

His eyes bore into yours as you give him a tiny, knowing smile.

Ellie looks relieved enough to cry, but she doesn’t, just punches Joel on his good arm. “Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that, man.”

“Go home and get some rest,” you say softly.

They head out, her tucked under his arm, and you could swear you hear him whisper an apology as they leave.

~*~

You find him at your office when you return from a house call the next day, waiting in a folding chair outside the door.

“Miller?”

He jumps up when he sees you walking toward him, hands shoved into his pockets. You notice the subtle wince and the careful way he holds his left shoulder as he stands.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine,” he says. “Can we talk? Maybe somewhere…private?”

You arch an eyebrow.

“Not for that,” he ducks his head, a flush in his cheeks.

“Alright, come in.”

He follows you inside the converted supply closet where you stay when you have a rare free moment. There’s a shelf running along the back wall, a set of filing cabinets, two chairs, a desk, and a cot behind it. 

“You want coffee?” You edge around him to get to your desk, gesturing to the folding chair in front of it. 

“Sure.”

You measure out the water for the electric kettle and set it to boil, then spoon precious coffee crystals into two mugs.

“Instant?” He wrinkles his nose.

“Desperate times…desperate measures…and the times are always desperate.”

The kettle froths and beeps. You pour the boiling water into the mugs and slide one across the desk.

“Damn,” he grimaces, taking a sip. “That’s worse than the sludge at the mess hall.”

“It’s better with cream.”

He looks at the mug, looks at you, then back at the mug. “Doubt it.”

“I suppose you can do better?”

“Wouldn’t be hard to,” he mutters, but he takes another sip anyway.

“So, are you wearing the brace?”

He reaches over and tugs at the edge of his collar, pulling it aside to reveal the beige elastic band across his neck and left shoulder. “Ellie threatened to break the other arm if I didn’t.”

“That sounds about right,” you smile. “And…any chest pain? Shortness of breath?”

He shakes his head. “It was…what you said. Panic attack.”

“Do you have those often?”

He takes a deep breath but doesn’t answer.

“I have them, too,” you say, the confession tumbling out before you can stop it. “I guess we’ve all seen some shit we can’t un-see.”

“More than you know,” he whispers.

The pause stretches into silence.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he says finally. “For pulling a gun on you…when El was sick.”

You nearly choke on your drink. You have to feign a coughing fit while he looks on with an expression of mild confusion.

“An apology? From Joel Miller? Be still, my heart,” you say when you can finally speak.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Laugh it up. But I mean it. I appreciate you looking out for her…and me.” 

You gasp, putting a hand to your chest in mock surprise. “An apology and a thank-you? Careful, Miller, you’re going soft.”

He smirks at this, finishes the dregs of his coffee, and pushes the mug back to you.

“Holy shit. Was that a smile ? Is it my fucking birthday or something?”

“Shuddup.”

You lower your voice to a rasp, leaning in. “And here I thought you just wanted to bend me over the desk.” 

His face falls, and he looks so deeply uncomfortable that you almost regret saying it. “Yeah, about that. We can’t…I can’t…do that anymore.”

“There are other positions that won’t put pressure on your shoulder–”

“It’s not about…my arm,” he says, then clears his throat. “The new joist will be up tomorrow. Tommy said he’d swing by and help me fit it in. We can’t finish it up pretty, there’s no drywall, but at least the pipes won’t freeze up again. Then we’re done. No more, uh… payment necessary.”

“Ah…I see,” you say softly. “Then I guess…it’s been nice doing business with you, Miller.”

He nods, licking his lips. After a long moment, he stands to leave, hands on his hips, looking like he wants to say something else.

When he doesn’t, you look down at your desk, pretending to focus on your paperwork. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Take care of that shoulder. And I want you back here for an ECG next week.”

~*~

That night, you return to your little green house and climb the stairs to the attic to check the radio. There’s a new broadcast from FEDRA on the recorder; something about transmission disruptions along the network due to the events in Kansas City, letting you know it might be a while before you hear anything else.

You’ve been thinking about Joel since he left your office, having broken off your little arrangement. You knew the contracting work wouldn’t last forever, and you got the sense Joel was ashamed of your trysts–he fucked you like he couldn’t wait to get away from you–so it’s not a surprise, exactly, but it changes the nature of the job.

But more importantly, Ellie requested you at the clinic and was even ready to fight off another nurse to get to you. She trusts you, and Joel…well, you don’t think he’s going to be a problem now. He seems to have softened, the health scare bringing out some tender underbelly of humanity in him. Yes, you decide, this has been a positive development all around.

You pull the chain to turn off the overhead bulb and climb down from the attic. At this rate, you could be back in Boston before the snow flies.

You’re surprised to find the thought isn’t exactly a comfort.

[finalgirlkateausten]

“he's very worried” for tk please!!! maybe the “he” is carlos but honestly do what u want with it 🩷

tysm for sharing this prompt list w me and for sending this prompt, i have missed my LS blorbos so muchhh. definitely a short drabble bc i am still new to writing EDs specifically, so here's a little snapshot from some vibes in my head 🩷 tw for mentions of drug use and weight loss

"Carlos thinks you're using again," Nancy says, because they're doing truck checks at five am, too hyped up to sleep but too exhausted to think, and she can't come up with any other way to start this conversation. "He's very worried."

TK's whole body jerks as he looks up at her. "Wh-what?"

She shrugs, looking away from the eye contact. "You just... don't seem like yourself, I dunno. And you've lost a lot of weight."

At that, TK gives a tired half-smile. "You think so?" He runs a hand over his chest, and the motion draws her attention to just how loosely the Austin EMS t-shirt hangs over his frame.

"Not in a good way," Nancy clarifies, wincing at how harshly the words come out. "In a, 'dude, are you sure you're not shooting up after shift' way."

"Don't worry, Nance," TK assures her, a frown tugging at his lips. "No drugs, promise. Just a good all-natural detox." The AED beeps obnoxiously as he turns it on to check the battery.

"Well, that's good to hear," she says, even though her stomach is twisting uncomfortably. It almost makes her feel worse to think that TK's current state is on purpose. "Maybe you should, y'know, talk to Carlos about the, uh, detox." She stares intently at their OB kit, hoping she's not coming across as suspicious. "It might make him feel better. I bet both of you could stand to get stuff off your chest." She peeks over her shoulder at him.

"Oh, nah, we're fine," TK dismisses. "We're great, actually. What's the code for the drug box?"

"Shit, I forget." Nancy stands to go find the captain, and their bubble is burst.

Whatever's going on with TK, she's not gonna find out all of it right now.

[leiawritesstories]

PART THREE: MARCH (PART I)

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: swearing, friendly teasing, science mumbo jumbo, mentions of police, mentions of illegal activities, mentions of Cairn, Rowaelin being very attracted to each other, so much scheming

Enjoy!

A/N: Part 2 will be posted for Rowaelin Month day 16 ;)

Masterlist

Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin had been sitting in her car waiting for twenty-three minutes and eighteen seconds. 

Granted, she had a book to keep her company, and she knew her darling cousin was not renowned for his punctuality, but over twenty minutes? That was long enough to ditch a first date. But they were family, and she hardly ever got to see him outside of their monthly lunches, so she turned another page in her novel and allowed the delay. 

Ten seconds later, her phone vibrated. 

>>I’m here. Bet you’ve already finished your food, sorry. The text was punctuated with a grimacing emoji. 

<<Still outside, thought I’d be the bigger person and wait for you to dig yourself out of your mad scientist cave

A middle finger emoji was the response. 

Smirking, Aelin got out of her car, locked it behind her, and strolled up to the tall blonde guy waiting in front of the restaurant, linking her arm through his. “There’s no need to be vulgar, Aedy.” 

Aedion Ashryver snorted and pulled his cousin into a hug. “Hello must not be part of your vocabulary anymore, Miss CEO.” 

“Nope!” Aelin winked. “Business empires aren’t built on platitudes.” 

“You’re as impossible as ever.” He held the door open for her. 

“I’m hungry, too.” She patted his arm in thanks. “And you are late.” She smiled at the hostess. “Hi, party of two for Ashryver?” 

As they followed the hostess to a booth, Aedion poked Aelin in the side. “I really am sorry, work just…it got away from me. I didn’t realize the time until it was already ten after.” 

She slid into her side of the booth and chuckled. “You’re such a mad scientist, Aedy.” 

“Stop calling me that,” he grumbled. 

“Never.” She flashed him an angelically innocent smile. 

Their server returned a few minutes later to take their orders, and because it was later in the afternoon, the food was served quickly. Aelin sighed almost indecently as she bit into her sandwich, causing Aedion to roll his eyes. 

“Really, Ae? Right in front of my fish tacos?” 

“You made me wait almost twenty-five minutes, and I barely had breakfast,” she returned. Elegantly, she wiped her mouth and took a bite of the side salad. 

Aedion raised his blonde brows in dramatic shock. “Am I tripping, or did my darling cousin voluntarily order something green and leafy?” 

“Shut up,” Aelin shot back, gesturing at him with her fork. “I like salad.” 

“Mhmm, you keep telling yourself that,” he drawled, not convinced in the slightest. “And pigs can fly.” 

“If you put them on an airplane, they can.” 

He sputtered a laugh. “Gods, I’ve missed you.” 

Her mirthful grin softened into a genuine smile. “I’ve missed you too, Aed. You spend way too much time locked up in that lab of yours.” She wiggled her brows suggestively. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were doing something rather unsanitary.” 

“You’re the worst,” he grumbled, a faint trace of pink staining his cheeks. 

Aelin nearly dropped her fork. “Aedion Ashryver!” she whisper-shouted. “Are you getting railed in your lab?!” 

“No!” he hissed. “What the hell?” 

“It was a fair question, Mr. I’m-Definitely-Not-Blushing.” 

“I keep forgetting that you’re so observant,” he mumbled. “No, Aelin, I’m not getting anything at my lab, except annoyed.” 

“Hey, I’m a scientist too,” she teased. “And that’s too bad. Where’s your naughty reward for all your hours of hard work?” 

“My reward is my fat paycheck,” he smirked. 

She snorted. “Yeah, I bet working with Orynth PD does pay pretty nicely.” 

His expression sombered. “Speaking of Orynth PD…” 

“Do you have an update for me?” She sipped her water, mentally preparing herself for potential bad news. 

“Yeah.” Aedion dragged his hand through his messy half-bun, tugging the hair tie free and idly weaving it around his fingers. “You remember when I told you PD had brought me a piece of evidence they’d found at the explosion site?” Aelin nodded. “Well, I’ve run every fucking test I can think of on it, and I’m still nowhere. Even particle analysis came up inconclusive. It’s…fuck, I’m about ready to chart it as ‘alien substance’ and tell PD it’s fuckin’ useless as evidence because there is no existing material even remotely close to it.” He huffed, exasperated but at the same time drawn to a problem he hadn’t yet solved. 

“How long have you been running tests?” 

“Since the end of January.” He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “It’s March 9th, and gods, I haven’t got anything.” 

Aelin pushed the last few leaves of her salad around on the plate, suddenly not hungry despite having half a sandwich left. “Um…” 

He snapped his eyes to hers, the concentrated steel of his stare eerily similar to Gavriel’s commander face. “Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, what do you know about this fabric?” He pulled a small plastic bag from his sleeve. Inside the bag was a tiny scrap of black, tightly woven material that resembled layers and layers of fine, interlocking mesh, so closely stacked that they appeared almost seamless. 

She inhaled, held the breath for exactly six seconds, exhaled, and met her cousin’s gaze head-on. “It’s mine.” 

He swore under his breath. “What is it?” 

“I…I can’t tell you that,” she whispered. Before he could demand why, she held up her hands in defense. “Because it’s in development, Aedion. There’s a very small quantity in existence, and only I have full access to it. This right here–” she indicated the scrap–“must have already been weakened, because all previous tests have pointed at the material being incredibly difficult to damage.” 

“So…only you know what the material is?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you know that it’s currently in PD hands? That I’ll be arrested if it ‘goes missing?’” 

“Yes.” She twisted the slender silver ring around her right middle finger, a visible sign of her nervousness. “I’m not asking you to return it.” 

“Then what are you asking?” 

Aelin pressed her lips into a thin, worried line. “I would ask you to give it back to me, but I won’t go that far.” 

“So…” 

“So…you can give it back to PD. Don’t explain it, though; just tell them whatever science-speak you nerds use to say ‘it’s too convoluted to figure out.’”  

“Says the woman with a PhD in chemical engineering.” 

 “At least I can have normal conversations.” 

“That’s what you think, young one.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, reassuring her. “I’ll tell PD  that the stuff is made of a wildly tangled structure that might take years to unravel, and I know they don’t have that kind of time frame. I’ll tell them it’s an entirely foreign substance.” He flashed her a private little grin. “We’ll see how many knots that ties them into, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Her lips quirked up. “I really don’t deserve you, Aed.” 

“Bullshit.” He nudged her plate back towards her. “Who else would buy you chocolate hazelnut cake as an apology for being twenty-five minutes late to lunch?” 

“My favorite!” she exclaimed. “Does that mean we’re going to the bakery?” 

“Of course it does.” He waved the server over, paid the check, and even carried Aelin’s box of leftovers for her as they left the restaurant. They walked about a block down the street to the charmingly rustic building that housed Aelin’s favorite bakery, where Aedion bought a massive slice of chocolate hazelnut cake, as promised. 

She sighed happily as she tasted the decadent dessert. “This is incredible. Bury me with a box of chocolate hazelnut cake, okay?” 

“Cake won’t make it to the afterlife,” Aedion deadpanned. 

She smacked his arm. “We’ll see who’s laughing in the afterlife when I pull my whole box of cake out of the hellfire.” 

“Hellfire,” he murmured, blowing out a long sigh. “If only that shit didn’t exist.” 

She put away her cake, tucked both the bakery box and her restaurant box into the bakery bag, and linked her arm through his, leading them down to walk along the riverside path. “It’s one dangerous fucking explosive, for sure.” 

“I’m pretty damn certain that’s what was used in the Wilkins lot explosion,” he admitted. “Hellfire. I’d know its chemical scent anywhere.” 

“Yeah, it’s a unique one.” She shrugged. “What? I keep up with the research.” 

“Naturally.” He chewed on his lower lip, working through what he wanted to tell her. “Something about it feels…wrong, though, and I don’t know how to describe it. I know it’s hellfire because the scent matches, but what the site looks like…” He trailed off. 

“Is it different?” she inquired. “Less damaged? More damaged? Is there…” A tight, controlled breath. “Something worse about it?” 

“Something worse.” Emotion–fear–flashed through his eyes. “Aelin, I’m about to tell you classified information. Promise me you’ll keep it to yourself.” 

She pressed her palm to his. “I swear it.” 

He braced himself, as if the information could collapse him. “The scorch marks left at the scene indicate both the burn pattern and rapidity, as you probably know.” She nodded. “Well, the marks at the Wilkins lot indicate a pace nearly twice as rapid as hellfire is known to have.” 

Aelin gasped. “That’s…fuck.” 

Aedion jerked his head in a tight nod. “Yeah.” 

Nearly twice as rapid. Her mind reeled with recognition. The hellfire used to blow up the Wilkins lot back in January–the hellfire that her team had developed, that she had planted and detonated–burned nearly twice as fast as known hellfire did. 

She’d accidentally created a compound that could incinerate a solid steel building in a matter of seconds. 

“Hey.” Aedion’s voice yanked her out of her whirling thoughts. “It’s possible there was another substance involved, something that caused a freak reaction. With the damage done, though, it may not be possible to detect the presence of any other substances.” He fiddled with the strap of his watch. “Hellfire just…it shouldn’t react this way, and I don’t know what the hell to make of it.” 

“Or what the hell you’re going to tell PD about it,” she added. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I can’t put them off forever, Ae.”

“Give them as much truth as you can, Aed.” Though quiet, her voice didn’t waver. 

They’d nearly reached the lot where their cars were parked, and Aedion accompanied Aelin to her car, his protective tendencies in full force as always. “Are you certain?” 

“Yes.” She squeezed his hands. “Don’t…don’t incriminate yourself, of course, and that might mean not mentioning me or my involvement. But be honest, as much as possible. Tell PD what you know about the fabric. Tell them your theory about the hellfire.” 

He pulled her into a crushing hug. “Thank you,” he whispered, the words stealing whatever was left of her breath after his embrace stole the rest. 

“Thank you,” she whispered back, “for not losing your shit at me.” 

He chuckled softly. “I’d rather not risk the wrath of Orynth’s most ruthless CEO.” 

She flashed him a half-grin as she climbed into her car. “Bye, Aeds. See you next month?” 

“See you next month.” 

She waved at him in the rearview mirror as she drove off. 

~

“Good morning, Ms. Galathynius.” Ansel fell into step next to Aelin as she crossed the lobby. Judging from her formal address, she was in full lawyer mode. “Are you ready?” 

“Always.” Aelin adjusted her loose hold on her work tote. “Tell me one time where I’ve gone into an important meeting completely unprepared; I’ll bet you can’t.” 

The attorney scoffed. “Last Tuesday, the day after you took a half day off to make your cousin buy you cake, you walked into a negotiation with the Cortlands without having done a speck of research.” 

“And I secured precisely the terms I needed to secure,” Aelin smirked. “That cake was my preemptive reward.”

“Mhmm, bet that’s what you tell yourself at night when you’re awake worrying over the possibility of one misspelled word in that contract.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you remember too much?” 

“Do you think I listen to that crap?” Ansel’s grin was as wicked as her boss’s. 

Aelin laughed. “This is why you’re my lawyer, Briarcliff.” She parted ways with her attorney as Ansel entered her own office. “I’ll call you if needed.” 

“You better.” The redhead nudged her in the side. “Now go get your big bad CEO office all ready for the investigator.” 

Aelin snickered and headed up to her office, where she moved her disorganized stacks of paperwork and notes to an empty drawer in her file cabinet and tidied up her desktop. She had a certain green-eyed special forces lieutenant to impress, after all. Best not to show a man who’d grown up in the military the chaos that her office typically was–it would probably give him heart failure. She pointed a small remote control at the walls of windows, raising all the blinds to let in the early-spring sunlight. 

At precisely eleven-fourteen, her desk phone rang. 

“Lieutenant Whitethorn is here, ma’am.” Her assistant’s voice was perfectly calm, as if she was announcing any other ordinary visitor. 

“Send him in.” 

The mahogany door swung smoothly opening, allowing Lieutenant Rowan Whitethorn to stroll into her office, casual confidence rolling off his six-foot-three frame. 

“Lieutenant,” Aelin greeted him, rising from her desk to meet him halfway across the expansive space. “So good to see you again. You look much more comfortable in your everyday clothes.” That was the mildest possible version of the truth. His collared black shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up and expertly fitted black slacks–just formal enough for a meeting, just casual enough for comfort–paired with the badge affixed to his sleeve and the faint outline of a bulletproof vest beneath his shirt made Aelin want to forget about the meeting and climb that man like a tree. 

He cracked a hint of a grin. “Tuxedos aren’t exactly my favorite attire, for sure.” His warm hand closed around hers, his handshake firm and confident. “Thank you for scheduling this meeting with so little notice.” 

She dipped her head. “It’s the least I can do, Rowan. I know how important this…issue is.” Rather than lead him towards her desk, she moved back towards the door. “Shall we chat somewhere less imposing? I’d like to think that we’re past all the unnecessary formality.” Since we kissed and everything. 

“I’d like that.” His presence was a solid, steady warmth behind her as he followed her to a small conference room just down the hall. 

“This is probably my favorite meeting room,” she admitted as she held open the door for him. “It’s essentially the office library, but almost nobody ever uses it.” 

He swept a thorough gaze over the dark oak bookshelves lining the walls, the soft yellow lighting in place of the standard office brightness, the plush maroon velvet chairs, and the single table off to the left, and cracked a full smile. “This is lovely.” 

“I used to study here when I had to come to the office after school,” she said, taking a seat in one of the armchairs and motioning for him to do the same. “My parents worked unpredictable hours, and I couldn’t take myself home until I had a car.” 

“Did you go to school close to here?” Rowan inquired, not missing the chance to slip into investigator mode. 

“Yes, I went to Orynth Prep with the rest of the rich kids. It’s about a seven-minute walk away.” 

His lips twitched. “A prep school minutes away from the downtown business sector. How clever of them to be so close to the money.” 

She muffled a snort. “Well, the lovely students needed the right volunteer hours on their transcripts, after all.” 

“Wonder if that’s helped them once they graduate from Harvard Business School,” he murmured, half to himself. “I don’t mean to shift directions so quickly, Aelin, but I am here on official business.” He cleared his throat. “Are you aware that there have been fourteen rather brutal homicides committed over the past seven months here in Orynth?” 

“I am aware. The news has been…eager to remind us.” She grimaced slightly. “I’ll never understand the journalistic fascination with gruesome crimes.” 

He nodded. “Are you also aware that the most recent victim was discovered at a warehouse that your company owns?” 

Aelin pressed her fingertips to her mouth, her eyes widening in shock. “Wh-which one?” 

“This property.” He passed her a photograph of the warehouse where Cairn’s body had been dumped. The shot was taken after PD had cleaned up the scene. 

She examined the photo, nibbling at her lower lip. “I see.” 

“You sound unsurprised.” Damn, the man was perceptive.

Aelin chose her next words very, very carefully. “I’m aware that some of my properties, particularly the ones in the shipping district, are rather sketchy, so I’m not completely blown off my feet to learn that this warehouse is now officially a crime scene.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please know that you have my full cooperation with your investigative efforts on my property.” 

“Thank you.” Unexpectedly, Rowan reached out and laid his free hand over hers. “I’ll do everything I can to make our stay on your property short.” He offered her a crooked smile and glanced back down at his notepad. “You have an advanced degree in chemistry, correct? It’s public information, I promise I didn’t use my police access to sneak into any info.” 

“I do.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I have my PhD in chemical engineering. Still enjoy running an experiment at the Gal Inc labs every once in a while.” She chuckled. “My chief engineer is kind enough to let me make my messes.” 

He wrote something down in his notes. “What can you tell me about the compound known as hellfire?” 

She whistled softly. “If you’ll forgive my language, it’s one hell of an explosive.” That said, she shifted to her scientist voice. “Hellfire is highly volatile and extremely sensitive, not to mention astronomically expensive to produce. Its key components are stable nitroglycerin and PETN; it also contains smaller quantities of some very rare, very finicky liquid chemicals. From what I know, it is most commonly detonated using highly concentrated acid to trigger the explosion, and the heat produced during the explosion ensures that none of the compound is left inactive.” She shuddered. “It’s frightening, even to us scientists.” 

“It certainly is.” He propped his chin on one fist. “You know about the catastrophic explosion of this past January, yes?” 

“Yes.” Twist the rings, Galathynius. She fiddled with one of her rings. 

“We have reason to believe that hellfire was the substance detonated during that event.” 

“Gods,” she breathed, horror coating her faint voice. “That…oh gods.” 

“Hey.” He broke free of his impersonal investigator persona for a moment and placed one hand on her shoulder, lifting her fallen chin with the other. “The good news is that no people were present. The lot was completely destroyed, but there is nothing to suggest any lives lost.” His thumb rubbed her shoulder, comforting. “Somehow, the catastrophe was contained to that single lot, structures only.” 

“It’s still horrifying,” she murmured. “Rowan, hellfire is so volatile, and it burns until it’s run out of fuel or until a sufficiently powerful extinguisher has been applied.” Her breath hitched. “The thought of…of someone dying…I’d be a terrible excuse for a human being if I said that didn’t break my heart.” 

“I know.” He clasped her hands, lending her his solid strength. “The things I’ve seen in my career…I know.” 

She breathed deeply and steeled her spine, putting her CEO face back on. “Ask me more questions–anything to keep me from spiraling.” 

He nodded, understanding what she meant. “Do you know of Cairn Wilkins?” 

Ire flashed across her elegant features. “I’m acquainted with that particular scumbag, yes.” 

“Scumbag?” His brows rose in curiosity; clearly, he hadn’t been expecting her vitriol. 

Tone it the fuck down, Galathynius! “Cairn Wilkins is a drug dealer, smuggler, and pathetic excuse for a man.” 

“Was.” 

“Was?” 

“He, ah…he’s dead.” 

“I’d have thought the media would have jumped on that story,” Aelin mused. “Hmm. Well, then, Wilkins was a pathetic excuse for a human being.” She blew out a controlled exhale. “I don’t say this lightly, Rowan. I was acquainted with Cairn, and he gave me every flavor of bad impression each time we crossed paths.” 

“How so?” Rowan’s pen tapped against his notepad. 

“He had a tendency to pop up in dark corners, stand too close, leer, and make other unacceptable gestures and behaviors while in public. As a businessman, he frequently made evening deliveries himself, which is unusual behavior for the owner of a company that purportedly delivers only to hospitals and pharmacies. Also, he was mysteriously absent from his office two days a week, every week, and his staff would only say that he was ‘away.’ The average CEO does not have recurrent absences, and if they are absent, their staff has more complete information on where they are.” She took a calming breath. “I am not the only businessperson who suspected Cairn of having, um, illicit connections. But…” She stopped. 

“But what, Aelin?” Rowan prompted. Intrigue was written all over his face–he was completely invested in the information she was sharing. Most of it was true. 

“But…he mentioned a partnership or two that I didn’t recognize, so I asked a colleague of mine to do some research. A quick internet search revealed that the companies Cairn had mentioned did not exist, and my colleague’s research indicated that those ‘companies’ were, in fact, drug fronts.” Eyes trained on Rowan’s deeply concentrating face, she named the false companies. 

He froze mid-writing, his chiseled jaw falling ajar in utter disbelief. “What?” 

“That information convinced me that Cairn had ties to the drug trade,” she continued, as if she were discussing an ordinary business transaction. “Perhaps my initial summary of him as a drug dealer and smuggler was too harsh, but my assessment of him as a paltry excuse for a man was not.” 

“Indeed.” Rowan finally stopped writing, lifted his head, and met her gaze. “So you were not friendly with Wilkins?” 

“I was not,” Aelin confirmed. 

He nodded and closed his notepad. “That’s all of my questions, then. Thank you for your time and your willingness to work with us, Aelin.” 

“It’s the least I can do.” Rising, she shook his hand, their joined hands lingering for longer than strictly necessary. “Please call me or my office if you need anything else.” 

“I will.” 

After escorting Rowan back to the elevator, Aelin returned to her office, sat down heavily in her chair, and dropped her face into her hands with a heaving sigh. Gods. That had been more of an ordeal than she’d anticipated. The fact that it was Rowan Whitethorn alone with her was enough to kick her pulse up a few notches, and the details she’d learned from him–and he from her–had her mind spinning with the possibilities. 

She’d seen the look on his face when she’d talked about Cairn, though. The intrigue that ran deeper than pure investigative speculation. It was precisely why she’d readily offered what she knew about that disgusting spawn of hell. 

Perhaps that was the nudge he needed to do some…deeper digging. The kind that involved breaking into a building late at night to snoop through computers, business records, and paperwork.

Aelin picked up her desk phone and punched Elide’s call button. “Ells?” 

Her second-in-command answered almost instantly. “What do you need, Ae?” 

“Disarm the external security protocols for the next few days. I’ve got a feeling we’re about to have a midnight visitor.”

~~~

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