#it's a constant feel of worry for no reason and its been hard to breathe my head hurts i'm nauseous im shaking constantly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkmatilda · 2 months ago

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𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer takes care of you after a serious accident.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: hospital, rehabilitation, neck and brain injury, nud1ty

𝐚/𝐧: this is one of the potential endings of my fanfiction "with the light off" which officialy remains open up to your own interpretation. this version written to comfort all the hearts i've broken <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 11k

Spencer felt embarrassed by how, just an hour after leaving the apartment, he already wanted to call her.

She had already occupied a near-constant presence in the back of his mind, slipping in like a shadow—elusive and playful—darting between his thoughts, flitting from one corner to another whenever he tried, even briefly, to forget about her. But now? After that night they had spent together?

Spencer knew a lot about obsession. He understood the weight of the word and was acutely aware of its gravity. Yet he couldn’t deny it—he was obsessed with her. Physical contact had always been a sensitive yet profoundly significant subject for him. He didn’t allow many people that close.

For him, touch was the ultimate proof of closeness and trust. Intimacy bred attachment. This wasn’t about desire in its rawest form—it was something else… though he wasn’t entirely sure what. He couldn’t define the bond they shared.

He felt bored, detached from the world when she wasn’t in it, and the only thing keeping him tethered to some semblance of normality was the thought—the imagining—that at this very moment, they were breathing the same air.

He was starting to think he might be losing his mind.

He held off on calling her precisely to avoid coming across as a lunatic in her eyes. He managed to restrain himself only once he was at work, where the seriousness of his profession demanded it. In a way, though, he felt lighter. Throughout the day, he was buoyed by the thought of their upcoming meeting, the excitement it brought—and the nerves. That mixture of emotions was enough to make the entire team glance at him with curiosity.

Garcia was handing out case files, her hair recently dyed a vibrant shade of red. Rossi, instead of opening his folder like everyone else, was watching Spencer from across the table, leaning on his elbow.

“Did you win the lottery or something?” he asked, so unexpectedly that Spencer glanced around at the others, unsure who the question was meant for.

When he realized the question was directed at him, he swallowed hard. Morgan’s raised eyebrow seemed to challenge him to a duel.

“Not that I know of. Why?”

“Because you’re practically glowing, sweetheart,” Penelope chimed in with a sly smile. “Don’t think you’re getting away without telling me everything later. I’ll get it out of you, don’t you worry. But for now, let’s get started…”

They immersed themselves in the case, but a few hours later, during a brief moment of downtime, he realized he was looking for an excuse to call her. Was a simple desire to ask what she was up to reason enough?

He wondered if she was still at his apartment. He hoped she was. He knew she’d eventually have to leave to prepare for the shift she was starting later that afternoon, but he couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him about the whole situation with her roommate’s ex-boyfriend.

Realizing he’d been staring at his phone for far too long and that he’d soon need to get back to work, he made a snap decision and called.

But no one answered.

Logically, he reasoned that mornings were probably her time to sleep. Afterward, he tried sending a text message. But by late evening, when he finally returned to his apartment, he was starting to feel genuinely worried.

The question nagged at him: could it have been about the previous night? Maybe he’d done or said something wrong, something that had put her off completely?

Slowly, he walked into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway as his eyes landed on the perfectly made bed. It definitely hadn’t looked like that when he left it.

Then his gaze fell on the slightly ajar safe, and he froze. The combination was incredibly complicated, so he must have left it open when he took out his gun and badge. Besides those items, there was one more thing inside.

He had once again fallen into the trap of keeping Dilaudid close, even though he wasn’t using it. Was it possible she found it, and that’s why she hadn’t reached out?

It wasn’t that he had lied to her about being clean. She had seen how much effort it took for him to talk about it, so she approached the subject with incredible subtlety, never asking directly, but watching him closely, carefully, yet without pressing.

If she had really found it in his safe, she might have felt betrayed. Or maybe she decided she didn’t want to get involved with someone who had such a problem. Perhaps she had seen the whole previous night as one big mistake and then decided to throw him out of her life. Spencer, though it pained him, couldn’t help but feel that he deserved it.

He sat on the bed, crushed by his own thoughts. Something didn’t sit right with the version of events he had imagined. First and foremost, she wasn’t the type of person who would turn him away because of this. Her heart ached to help others; she couldn’t ignore someone else’s troubles. Even if he had hurt her, her immense capacity for understanding would have remained intact. Empathy was imprinted on her, like a deep, unshakable mark.

Driven by a hunch, he reached for his phone to call her again. That’s when he noticed two missed calls from an unknown number, just fifteen minutes ago.

He pressed the phone to his ear, his brow furrowing in confusion as he heard the first sound on the other end… a sob?

The sound went on and on, and Spencer was too confused to utter a single word.

“Who am I talking to?” he finally asked. Unable to stop himself, he stood up. He didn’t even know what was going on or who he was talking to, but he sprang to his feet anyway. His body compelled him, his insides twisting with unpleasant spasms.

It could just as well have been some stupid prank. The problem was, it wasn’t.

“H-hey, it’s J-Jude,” a voice came from the other end. Female, shaky, and choked with sobs so severe that if he didn’t already know her name, he would never have guessed he was speaking to her roommate. He stopped pacing the room. “I-it was me…I called earlier. S-she doesn’t have any…any family, and I didn’t know…I didn’t know who to inform…I can’t handle this on my own…they just took her away again…”

It wasn’t as if the world suddenly came to a halt. It simply became both sharper and blurrier at the same time. Spencer could see that single, bright strand of hair on the pillow with perfect clarity, yet his own legs seemed out of reach. When he looked down, all he saw was darkness stretching below him. Somehow, he was still breathing.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Later, he couldn’t explain how his voice—those first words—had sounded so composed. “W-who took her… where… and why…?

“I have no fucking idea!” she shouted, followed by a long silence during which Jude took a desperate gasp of air. “I mean, I do, I do know! They just brought her in, but... but suddenly they took her back because there was some kind of…bleeding…”

“...ding?” he blurted out, the first syllable swallowed entirely by his panic.

“No, I don’t want anything to calm me down, I am calm, can’t you tell?” Her voice grew distant, as if she’d pulled the phone away from her mouth. Then it came back, clear and pleading. “Please, come here…”

She hung up. The phone slipped from his hand as if it burned him. In a frenzy, he bent down to grab it, only to drop it again. Finally, he fell to his knees, managing at last to pick it up. As he stood, he felt as though some substance was spreading through his brain—black, toxic, and utterly destructive. Its effects left him barely tethered to reality. He could hear and see, but everything was overlaid with Jude’s words, looping in his mind like printed text on a screen.

The next thirty minutes were a blur.

How could it be logically explained that, in a state of complete detachment from the outside world, he somehow managed to figure out, based on the map of the area imprinted in his memory, which specific hospital she was in? How did his panicked, trembling hands manage to cover that distance by car without causing an accident?

The only thing he knew was that he ended up at the nearest hospital, wearing just a shirt with no outer layer. It was shocking that he even had shoes on.

He should have been looking for the woman who had called him, demanding every bit of information she had. But somehow, instinctively, his eyes searched for someone else—a familiar face. He prayed it was all some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe he was fooling himself, hoping to spot her among the people passing by. A part of him simply refused to accept the possibility that anything could have happened to her.

Nothing had happened.

She was fine.

Her blue eyes were soaking in the surroundings, their gaze carrying that faint sparkle that always appeared at night. Maybe there was even a smile on her lips. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow himself to imagine what might have happened to her. It felt as though the universe itself should be ashamed for ever entertaining the thought of harming her.

"Are you family?" the man at reception asked. Spencer nodded. "I'm sorry, but I can't provide you with any information,"

"Just tell me, is she alive?"

"I can't…"

"Just fucking tell me…"

"They’re operating on her right now," a voice spoke from behind him. Spencer turned and blinked. Only then did he realize he was in a hospital. Before, he’d only had a goal—an urgent need to get there. The surroundings were just beginning to take shape in his mind. He had never seen this woman before, but he guessed it had to be Jude. Her face was swollen from crying, but she seemed less shaken than during their call. She had probably accepted the sedatives. "Again. First, they spent almost four hours working on her neck… they said she was stable, asleep, but then suddenly there was that bleeding… I watched them take her out of the room right in front of me…"

“Did you see her?”

Unexpectedly, she hid her face in her hands.

“I didn’t know who to call. She mentioned you a few times, and I had your number, and I didn’t know what to do…” she began explaining chaotically, as if it mattered at all. “It’s my fault, you know, all of this is my fucking fault…”

They were standing right in front of the receptionist, blocking his access to others who needed help. Spencer snapped back to the moment, pulling her a few steps aside.

“W-what did you say? That they operated on her for four hours?”

“Yes, the first time…”

So, she had been there for at least four hours. Longer, considering the time needed after surgery before visiting a patient. Pain spread across his chest. While he was wondering why she hadn’t answered his calls, coming to various conclusions, she had been fighting for her life?

He... had been at work, moving around, talking to others, living, while all of this was happening? He felt as if... as if he had betrayed her. It was absurd, even he knew that. Despite the state he was in—tragic, to be precise—he understood just how absurd that thought was. But he couldn’t stop the guilt and shame that washed over him every time he tried to imagine her on the operating table while he had been completely unaware of her condition.

“I need to sit down," Jude muttered, and after a moment, they found themselves on narrow chairs lined along the hospital walls. Spencer barely managed to force his knees to bend, his body to settle into the seat.

He was only beginning to adjust to the foreign gravity that was pressing down on him.

In his head, there was only one thought, one resolution, one desire. The only thing that could save him from losing his mind in this waiting room.

"I need to see her."

"We have to wait," Jude replied, pressing her hand to her forehead. More tears appeared in her eyes. She wasn’t just terrified, she was completely falling apart. "We... we once gave each other permission to access information about our health. You know, in case of an accident. The doctors told me everything. A neck sprain. A concussion. Two broken ribs and a broken forearm." Although her speech had been unclear earlier, when she listed the injuries, she sounded like a movie announcer.

Spencer quickly realized that these words must have been echoing in her head since they were first told to her. The same thing had been happening to him. Each word was like a blow delivered with full force, and his extensive medical knowledge wasn’t helping him avoid panic. He was too aware of the danger and too aware of the suffering her poor body must have endured.

They both squeezed their eyes shut tightly. Spencer felt as though his temples might explode. Waiting. Was there anything worse in the world than waiting? Being stuck in ignorance, teetering between uncertainty, relief, and utter despair? Feeling all of it at once?

"How did this even happen?" he asked the woman sitting next to him.

He was sure he already knew the answer to that question. She didn’t even need to say it. It was enough to see how she dropped her gaze, heavy with pain, and how tightly her jaw clenched.

“She... fell down the stairs.”

Spencer wanted to scoff at the understatement. The real version of events couldn’t pass Jude’s lips, but in some way, he considered that a blessing. If Jude had openly admitted that she had been pushed, he might have crumbled under the weight of the fury flooding him. But for now, his anger didn’t matter. Only the passing time did.

He felt as if he hadn’t taken a single breath since leaving his apartment. Leaning his head back in his seat, he endured what felt like two whole days, then glanced at his watch only to realize that exactly forty-seven seconds had passed.

Time—a relative concept. In physics and in human perception. Einstein had proven it, and so had that particular moment.

He started to fear that he might never leave the waiting room. Memories and emotions began to blur together. He formed a theory: that he had been trapped there for quite some time—weeks, perhaps. Back when another loved one had been on the operating table, and he’d been losing his mind in much the same way.

Could it be that, under the strain of this torturous waiting, he’d lost his sanity? That his brain, desperate for relief, had simply imagined everything that followed? The trip to the library that night, finding himself at her door, the string lights on the Christmas tree, the Venus flytrap, the bar, opening the door that night and seeing her on the stairwell—at once flushed from a night spent at the club and chilled from the December air?

And now that illusion had simply shattered, like a fragment of broken glass. He was back in the waiting room again, waiting, hurting too much—and yet feeling as though he had no right to. His pain was nothing compared to what she was going through. He should be doing something, anything, to make himself useful, to not succumb to the weight of his own helplessness.

When the doctor finally approached them, Spencer almost knocked over his chair in his haste to stand. The doctor, however, focused solely on Jude as he delivered the update, leaving Spencer questioning whether he even existed.

“We managed to stop the bleeding. That’s the good news,” he began, his dark eyes unreadable—at once cool and concerned, with the practiced composure characteristic of people in his profession.

“Thank God,” Jude whispered, rubbing her chest as if trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart.

Spencer, on the other hand, felt no relief. Not even a sliver.

"‘That’s good news,’" he repeated the doctor’s words, drawing the man’s gaze to him. ‘But… but is there something bad?’

That brief moment before the doctor answered felt longer than nearly the past two hours of waiting.

“Due to suspected brain swelling, we had to induce a coma.’

“What?’ Jude mouthed silently. “How… how could she be in a coma? Why? Was that necessary?’

“They needed to reduce the intracranial pressure,’ Spencer replied, the words spilling from his mouth without him even realizing he was speaking. ‘The coma prevents further damage and minimizes the brain’s oxygen consumption. But will she… how long will she…?’

“Only for a few days,’ the doctor assured him, understanding the question he couldn’t quite form. “As long as there are no further complications or additional bleeding. But I can reassure you for now: there’s no indication of that. Her condition seems stable. She was… incredibly lucky. It was a serious accident—a miracle, a sheer miracle—that she didn’t break her spine.’"

For a moment, he couldn’t utter a single word, his throat still tight, and the relief never came. He knew he wouldn’t feel it until he saw her, fully conscious and awake. Until that happened, he would grimace every time he heard the word miracle.

"When will I be able to see her?" he asked, surprisingly calm and composed. The question was so important to him that his voice didn’t tremble even once. In fact, it was the only thing that mattered right now.

"You’ll need to wait a few hours before visiting. We have to make sure there’s no risk of a sudden deterioration in her condition. Also, only authorized individuals can visit her."

The last part of the doctor’s statement felt almost like a slap in the face.

"How many hours?" he pressed, impatience creeping into his voice. "Two? Four? Six?"

"Please, calm down," the doctor asked, making a gesture with his hand.

“Eight?”

His voice grew increasingly sharp, desperately demanding an answer. The doctor opened his mouth to respond, but Jude interrupted with a question.

"As an authorized person, can I, on behalf of the patient, allow him to visit?" she asked, catching Spencer’s gaze for a brief moment before quickly turning away. "She would want this, I know it."

The doctor shook his head in refusal, providing them with a few more details about the surgery before turning to leave. Spencer watched him leave, something in him wavering between a sigh and a snort. So they wouldn’t even let him visit her? He understood the hospital procedures and rules perfectly well, but when it came to his own case, he hated them with all his heart. They wouldn’t allow him to see someone who meant so much to him, simply because they weren’t bound by blood or a ring on his finger. A ring on his finger… maybe he should lie and say they were engaged? Although, would it really make any difference in the eyes of the hospital staff?

Before the loose fragments in his mind began to form a plan, he noticed that Jude was staring at him. She had sat down again, pressing her back tightly against the chair's backrest. She hadn’t cried for a while now; a certain relief had settled on her face when she heard the surgery had been successful, but then the old devastation returned, stronger than ever before.

"I won’t be able to visit her," she said, her voice hollow. "Not even while she’s unconscious. And when she wakes up, look her in the eyes. Tell me, how could I do that after everything? After all of this was my fault?"

Spencer turned away and walked off.

He knew that if he didn’t, something inside him would break. He couldn’t stop the anger he felt toward Jude. From what he knew, she had repeatedly refused to report her ex-boyfriend to the police, perhaps more or less aware of the danger he posed. She had the right to do so, theoretically. But that didn’t change the fact that someone else had suffered because of her foolish decision.

In his eyes she deserved the guilt she felt.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he found a place far from her, far from anyone, where he spent the next few hours, hardly moving. Sometimes he observed the relatives of other patients in the hospital, also broken, but he had some selfish feeling that even they wouldn’t understand what he felt. He placed himself on some distant, elite orbit of suffering and felt almost embarrassed by it.

Pain always makes sure that a person feels as lonely and misunderstood as possible in it. That is when it has the most power over them.

He kept away from the windows, the darkness outside, slowly losing its intensity, putting him into a state of shock and contemplation. Maybe time was a relative concept, but that didn’t change the fact that it existed. Somewhere far away, there was light beyond this waiting room.

For some time now, he had been occupied with a certain task. He was aware of the hours passing and how, with them, his desperation grew. He felt he would go mad if he didn’t see her. The designated time during which the patient should be ensured complete rest after surgery had ended, yet he knew they wouldn’t let him in to see her. But he had a brain for a reason, right?"

He found the room where everything that mattered to him at that moment was. A young doctor was just leaving.

"Excuse me, ma'am,” he approached her politely, trying to appear calm, though his appearance and trembling hands clearly suggested otherwise. “I need to visit this patient.”

“Are you a relative?”

“No, actually…” He knew this was a desperate move and resorting to a lie, but he didn’t care. What was morality in his situation? Just a word. He reached for the badge he had with him and cleared his throat. “I’m with the FBI. I’ve been assigned to see this particular patient; it’s a matter that cannot be delayed."

Believe it or not, but people often lost their minds at the mere mention of the FBI. Spencer suspected that such a young doctor might have some gaps in experience and not know what procedures were in place in such a situation.

The surprised woman took a half step back.

“But she’s in a coma…” she said uncertainly, turning toward the room. “Are you sure it’s this patient?”

“Absolutely. And as I said, there’s no time to waste.”

He didn’t put his badge away, still holding it raised, with a serious expression on his face, as if he were interrogating someone. It was clear she was torn with doubt, but fortunately for him, she decided to give in without consulting the decision.

Spencer almost ran into the room, unable to hold back his impatience any longer. At first, he felt as if in a dream, one where you achieve your greatest goal. However, it quickly turned into a nightmare, all because of what he saw.

Whatever he had imagined, he was not prepared for this sight.

Especially because before he even noticed her face, the face he was so desperate to see, he first noticed everything else surrounding it. The hospital equipment, the machines and devices monitoring her vital signs. The wide orthopedic collar tight around her neck. The sterile whiteness of it all, obscuring her and making her almost disappear against its backdrop. It wasn’t until he approached the bed, his legs weak and unsteady, that he started to look at her, but again, not specifically at her, but at the injuries. The sight of swollen temples, the sunken eyes, pale and dry lips, skin like a sheet of paper. Every injury on her body caused him unimaginable pain, so intense it almost stopped him from breathing. He felt so much anger and injustice that she had to go through this that he almost wanted to fall to his knees and apologize to her, beg for forgiveness. For what? He couldn’t decide. It wasn’t a need driven by logic, it was something deep inside him.

And that’s what he did, even though there was a place beside the bed where he could sit. He slowly knelt down, his hands touching the edge of the bed, but not her body. After all, he wasn’t about to risk causing her any pain due to his lack of control. But he had such an overwhelming desire to take her hand, the one whose fingers shyly peeked out from under the cast.

"I should have gone with you," he said, after about five minutes spent in complete silence, undisturbed even by his breath, which he was holding back. "I should have. Walked you to the door and made sure you got inside safely. I’m sorry…"

He felt that with his pitiful apologies, he was disturbing her peace. She needed it to fully rest. So, he fell silent again, alternating between looking at her with furrowed brows in tender concern and resting his forehead against the edge of the bed whenever the sight became too painful. While before, time seemed to crawl at the slowest possible pace, now it was racing forward wildly.

In his perception, barely a minute had passed when someone’s presence appeared behind him. He turned over his shoulder, noticing the young nurse who had let him in, and it took him a long time before he even realized it. After all, he had lied to her, saying it was some professional matter, yet she had found him kneeling by the hospital bed.

He quickly got to his feet, nervously rubbing his face.

“For the patient’s well-being, no visits should last longer than twenty minutes,” the woman said surprisingly gently, leaning slightly against the door with her shoulder. An unidentified expression lingered in her eyes, making them seem...warm.

He didn’t answer, just nodded. He no longer felt the need to play that little charade that had helped him get inside. He allowed himself one last long moment, looking at her face, peaceful in sleep. He passed the doctor in the doorway, feeling her eyes turn to him, and he did the same, out of curiosity. She smiled, sadly and with compassion.

"This had nothing to do with any FBI assignment, right?”

Her understanding seemed almost touching. However, Spencer, caught in the moment, quickly withdrew, once again making his way down the hospital corridors, now completely unsure of what to do with himself. He leaned against one of the walls, slowly feeling the fatigue from the entire night spent waiting to see her. He found his phone in his pocket, realized it was already morning, and that… Hotch had called him.

It was a quick collision with the outside world. He called back, as nothing else came to mind that he could focus on.

"Reid," the serious voice of his boss came through on the other end. "Why aren’t you at work, and why aren’t you answering?"

He needed to take a breath before he could respond.

"Sorry, Hotch," he said, trying not to sound weak, but that’s exactly how he sounded. Weak, a little pitiful, and on the verge of exhaustion. "Something... something really important happened, and... I... I won’t be able to come in today..."

Spencer realized he had no idea how to explain himself in this situation.

"I can’t remember the last day you were even late. What happened?" He didn’t answer. "Where are you?" Silence. "Spencer."

"It’s... a personal matter."

There was a brief silence from his boss, and Spencer could almost imagine how he furrowed his dark brows in confusion.

"I understand." His voice was tense, but not with disapproval, which surprised Spencer. More with... concern. Had he managed to read the seriousness of the situation just from his voice? Probably, after all, he was the best profiler Spencer knew. "You’ll need to explain later, but for now... take care of yourself. Do you need any help?”

He assured him insincerely that everything was fine and found an empty chair to sit in, hunched over. A strong pressure formed in his head, amplified by the helplessness and uncertainty about what he should do next. She was in a coma, and according to the doctor, she would be in it for the next few days. And what was he supposed to do during that time? He felt that physically, he could spend another hundred hours on that specific chair. Occasionally stretching his legs. It was his plan, one that seemed more real with every passing minute. At least, until a figure cast its shadow over him.

"Reid," a familiar voice spoke.

He looked up, surprised, at Morgan. His mouth was slightly open in confusion, his forehead deeply furrowed.

"What are you doing here?"

"How... how did you know where I was?" That was the first thing that came to his mind.

"Penelope. How she knew, I have no idea, but I’m starting to suspect that her joke about having us all chipped wasn’t really a joke. But anyway, what’s going on? Hotch told me you called, and you sounded... unsettling."

His friend was watching him closely. His wrinkled clothes, his tired face.

"So... Hotch sent you to find me?"

"Reid, you’re our friend. Did you really think we wouldn’t be worried about you?"

Spencer lowered his head, listening to his words. Derek was silent for a moment, his hands resting on his hips, his tense face scanning the surroundings. After a while, he focused his gaze back on him.

"Who is the person you’re visiting?"

He hesitated before answering, not because he didn’t want to share the information, but because he wasn’t sure how to refer to her. What should he call her? After all, it wasn’t like they were in an official relationship, and the word friend seemed to leave something unsaid.

“Someone... someone very important to me. She had an accident. She has... a cervical spine injury, and the doctors, suspecting brain swelling, decided to put her into a coma for a while.”

Morgan's eyes widened.

“Damn, Reid. I’m so... I’m so sorry.”

He sat down on the empty chair beside him, his face still showing shock. Exhausted, Spencer simply rested his head on his knees, no longer able to keep his posture straight. He felt drained, yet at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to leave—couldn’t leave her…

Morgan’s hand fell onto his back, and finally, then sighed.

“Come here, man.”

With a firm pull, he drew him into an embrace.

Spencer found it hard to admit, even to himself, how much he needed this. No words left their mouths for a long while; only that brotherly, supportive embrace remained between them.

“Have you seen her?” Morgan asked after a while.

He confirmed, but didn’t reveal the circumstances. His friend paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“Okay, listen to me. You need to get back to yourself.”

Spencer scoffed and shook his head, ready to argue.

“Let me finish. I know you don’t want to leave her right now, but with all due respect, you look like death. You need to eat and get some sleep.”

“I can’t,” Spencer replied firmly.

“You’re going to collapse soon. You said she’ll be in a coma for a few days. You won’t make it sitting here, think realistically. No one’s asking you to go back to work, you just need to rest.” He looked at him seriously, knowing how hard it would be to convince him. Finally, he sighed once more. “Do it for her, alright? Do you really think she’d want you to wear yourself out like this?”

He had no ready answer for that. Well, he did, but it sounded like no, she wouldn’t want that.

“I’ll take you home. For God’s sake, you came here without even a coat?”

It's a strange feeling to let someone take care of you. Completely. Derek not only drove him to his apartment but also came inside with him. There was no emotional discussion between them, which he found to be a relief. Silent support, he thought.

His relationship with the other team members had been tested after Emily's death—or at least, that's what he had thought up until now. He had begun isolating himself, not wanting to intrude on their grief or burden them with his own problems. But in reality—something he hadn’t seen until now—it had been the opposite. It strengthened their bond.

The next few days revolved mainly around hospital visits. Somehow, he had managed to gain visiting rights, and the time spent by her side filled him with a certain sense of calm. He could see how stable her vital signs were, and he clung to the doctors’ reassurances that she would regain consciousness in just a few days.

He once read a series of articles and interviews with people who had been in comas. Their accounts sometimes contradicted medical facts and often included embellishments, but a significant number of them mentioned remembering the voices of loved ones and certain sounds.

He didn’t want her to remember only the sounds of medical equipment from this period. But he also wasn’t sure what he could talk to her about. Would she want to hear about the overly salted carbonara that Garcia had forced an entire pot of on him? Or about the abstract mural being painted across from his apartment—something he was sure she would have liked?

In the end, he decided to read to her, though choosing what to read proved challenging. Sleeping Beauty seemed too ironic, even though she would probably laugh about it later. She had once told him Girl, Interrupted was her favorite book, but its hospital setting made him suspect she might prefer something that let her escape this place, even if only in her imagination. The Silence of the Lambs referenced one of their past conversations, but if a doctor overheard him reading it to her, he would surely be banned from visiting altogether.

“All right,” he began one day, sitting down in the chair by her bed. “I know you’re not a big fan of fantasy. And yes, you’ll have every right to call me out on this when you wake up. But still, I hope you’ll like it.”

Arabian Nights was a collection of tales and stories originating from the Middle East, India, and Persia. Somehow, he assumed that the mysterious, often nocturnal atmosphere might resonate with her, even soothe her. After all, night had always been her favorite time of day—the backdrop to so much of her life.

That day, as he was about to leave, he leaned slightly over her bed, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"Tomorrow, I'll read you a romance, how does that sound? But I’ll have to go to the bookstore because, despite your beliefs, I don’t have any in my collection. I wish I’d had more time to get to know your reading preferences better."

During none of his previous visits had he touched her, afraid it might disturb her peace in some negative way. Besides... in the state she was in, she looked so fragile and delicate that he feared even the slightest touch could hurt her. But that time, he simply couldn’t hold back. After a long internal struggle, he placed a very brief kiss on her forehead.

Spencer couldn’t keep his promise. While he did buy a romance novel recommended to him with enthusiasm by a young bookstore clerk, he never had the chance to read it to her.

The next day, he received a message.

She had woken up.

You didn’t remember much.

Only fragmented scraps. The memories began with a brief moment of complete physical helplessness, a terrible pain in your neck, and a series of flashing lights mingling with raised voices—even shouting. Then came silence, vile and terrifying.

But that wasn’t the end. Something came after the silence.

Softly spoken stories. For some reason, they were comforting. In your mind, only a few blurred images remained—no clear events or words. What you remembered most was that soothing, calm voice. It felt like an embrace, like warm bedding, the first rays of cosmic light piercing through clouds, or the gentle chill of evening air.

It was… beautiful. But it couldn’t last forever. After an indeterminate amount of time, your body decided to reject that comfort and tried to open its eyes. It was an excruciating effort. You sighed with the strain. The first colors and surreal shapes began to appear before you. Slowly, you started to become aware of your existence, yet at the same time, you felt suspended somewhere outside your body and mind—alone and terrified.

The sensations were both faint and overwhelmingly intense, making you want to hide, to somehow cut yourself off from them. Yet you were equally afraid to close your eyes again. You muttered things that made no sense. You remained in this panicked state until two tiny brown points hovered above you, widening with concern. Only then were you able to calm down—at least enough to stop straining your body with attempts to move. Attempts, because your body seemed entirely unwilling to follow your commands.

The fear buried itself deep within you, drilling into your chest. At first, it suffocated you, but eventually, it began to weaken and fade.

This was how the first hours after waking from the coma unfolded.

Weakness, disorientation, mumbling, pain, discomfort, and light sensitivity.

It took a long time before you regained awareness of being in a hospital. Even more time passed before you remembered why. And then, your own condition and state.

You were so incredibly weak that it filled you with disgust, terrified by how much effort even the smallest movement required—like the twitch of a finger or the blink of an eye. Frustrated by it all, you cried, and he cried too. But his tears were born of relief and joy.

Those two specific emotions reached you the latest—only after they transferred you to a different ward, and your thoughts began to clear. Relief and joy. Hand in hand with fear and anxiety.

It felt so unreal, yet it was real—real like nothing else, and it held you tightly, exactly the way you needed it to.

Spencer was aware that her awakening was just another step in a very long journey.

His medical knowledge, modestly speaking, was fairly extensive, and he understood the gravity of the injuries she had sustained. Their first meeting after she had opened her eyes for the first time was nothing like a scene from a movie. She was confused, still drowsy, and as she slowly started to comprehend everything, she was primarily terrified. Her body, after the time spent in the coma, though brief, was extremely weak, and every little movement exhausted her as though she had just run a marathon.

The fear on her face pierced his chest.

He had the impression that none of the words he spoke, almost whispered in an attempt to calm her, were having any effect.

"I... I can't move," she stammered as one of the first things she said. Her eyes intensely focused on his face, searching for safety in it, and he feared he wouldn't be able to provide it for her.

"It's just temporary," he reassured her gently, leaning over her bed and trying to smile, but it came out uncertain, he was too worried about her condition. "The doctors say so, and that's the truth. Your body is just very weak right now."

"Will... will it be like this forever?"

"No, no, it will pass. I promise, it will pass," he nodded fervently. She hesitated and took a breath, as though discovering an entirely new action. But as soon as she did, out of fear, it became fast and irregular. He was terrified that his touch might cause her pain, but he didn't know what else he could do to help her. Gently, as gently as he could, he placed his hand on her cheek, barely grazing it with his thumb. "You'll feel better soon. Really, it won’t be long now. For now... just don’t overexert yourself, please, breathe."

At first, she flinched. He wanted to withdraw his hand as quickly as possible, but then he felt her press her face against it, almost nuzzling into it. A shy tear danced in one of her eyes, barely noticeable.

"It’s good to see you," she said after a brief silence, a soft sigh escaping her lips—almost like a laugh, though it didn’t quite make it. Her breath was still shallow and uneven, but with each passing moment, it seemed to steady as he held her close.

And in that moment, seeing her like that, feeling her presence so close, a smile spread across his face—a smile so genuine, so long-awaited—and with it came the tears he’d been holding back for what felt like forever.

"I feel the same," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how much."

The orthopedic collar pissed you off like nothing else.

It wasn’t even the discomfort that bothered you, it was just... the collar was such a painful reminder of your condition, a testament to what you had been through. And you were supposed to wear it for another six to eight weeks.

Two weeks after waking from the coma, preparations for leaving the hospital were beginning. The risk of brain swelling had subsided, the injuries were healing, and the concussion still made its presence known, but the pain was no longer as intense. You could even have a normal conversation, which you seized almost immediately, striking up a chat with the teenage girl in the bed next to you, her sad expression tugging at your heart.

Few people visited you; you preferred that the two most important ones could spend as much time with you as possible, rather than inviting coworkers or acquaintances you hadn’t spoken to in months. The two most important people.

Spencer had been with you since the moment you woke up, and as the doctor confessed to you with a small smile, he had also stayed by your side while you were in a coma. You were in shock. Not because he had done it—it made perfect sense, given his caring nature. The shock came from the simple fact that one person could care so deeply about another, about you.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that the moments when he visited you became your favorite part of the entire day. And not just because they revolved around checking your condition, tests, and the first, incredibly light rehabilitation exercises. You simply found yourself waiting for the moment he would appear in that doorway again, holding his coat in hand, smiling.

"Hello, handsome stranger," you greeted him one day, the first day you were starting to feel better.

Spencer stopped at the sound of that term, tilting his head with an even wider smile.

"How else did I used to call you?" you mused aloud. "Ah, I used to call you Mr. Mysterious. But I suppose that's no longer fitting, you smile too much to seem mysterious."

"Because I have a reason," he replied, stopping beside your bed and glancing at the flowers placed there, the ones that had greeted you when you woke up that day. "But in that case, 'Handsome stranger' doesn’t fit either, since you know me now."

"But you are handsome. Half of it fits, so I have the right to call you that. Who... who sent me these flowers?"

"Better question would be, who didn’t send you those?" he muttered, referring to their large number. You could only admire them—the beautiful, colorful arrangements—but you hadn’t had the chance to read the notes and messages attached. Spencer glanced at one of them, his smile fading, though not in a bad way... somehow, the expression that appeared on his face was even more pleasing than his smile. "This... this one’s from my team."

You were simply speechless.

"They... they even know I exist?"

"Of course they do, how could they not?" Spencer paused for a moment, looking at you thoughtfully. "They... they were with me the whole time you were in a coma. They helped me keep my head together."

"Don’t exaggerate," you tried to dispel the sudden serious mood. You didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking he had been that worried about you during that time.

"It’s not an exaggeration," he replied briefly and seriously, his face almost motionless.

For a moment, you fell silent, your hands resting on the blanket in front of you.

"Sorry, Spencer. I just realized I’ve never thanked you for this..."

"What?" he asked, surprised, his brows furrowing. "This isn’t something you have to thank me for..."

"But I feel like I have to. This... this isn’t some small, silly favor. You really did so much for me... I still don’t fully understand why..."

"You don’t understand why?"

"Yeah," you sighed uncertainly, not sure how to put it into words. "Don’t get me wrong... I’m so grateful to you, it’s just... look at it this way. We didn’t know each other that long, we saw each other rarely. We slept together once. It’s not like you were…obligated to help me."

"I didn’t have to be obligated to do it," he said after a moment of hesitation, circling your bed and sitting on the edge, just barely touching it. "And I didn’t have to know you for years. I just wanted to do it because of how much I cared about you. And if that explanation doesn’t convince you... then..." He swallowed hard. "Remember, you were there for me during one of the worst moments of my life."

“It’s not the same...”

“Oh, but it is. For me, it is. But I don’t want you to think that I was there for you because I felt like I owed you something. Or that I had to... I don’t know... repay you in some way. That’s not it at all.”

You didn’t answer, something tight gripped your throat. You just tilted your head, overwhelmed with emotion, speechless. The only thing you truly wanted to do was stretch out your arms and drape them around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder. Spencer sighed, surprised and tense. It wasn’t until a brief moment passed that his hands gently touched your back.

“How much longer are you going to act like I’m made of glass?” you asked.

You knew his caution was justified, but Jesus. You just really wanted to hug him properly.

“Probably forever,” he replied, to which you rolled your eyes.

He was the one to break the hug, but in compensation, he quickly kissed the top of your head. You leaned back against the bed, feeling a pleasant sensation in your stomach. Spencer returned to the flowers to tell you who had sent them all.

“So these are from my team,” he picked up the lost thread, pointing to the arrangement of white and pink carnations. He chuckled. “And I’m pretty sure Penelope picked them out, not just because her name is listed first. White represents perseverance and strength. Pink stands for admiration and respect.”

“That’s really thoughtful. And beautiful. I’ll have to thank them. And these tulips?”

Spencer took the note attached to the mentioned flowers between his fingers.

“From... Jerry.”

“What? My husband sent me flowers?”

“What?” He jerked his head up in surprise.

You laughed so hard at the look on his face that it made you wince in your ribs.

“I’m fucking kidding, you fool,” you replied, clutching your side with a groan. “Jerry is the librarian. You should know him. He once asked me what flowers he should buy for his wife, and I suggested yellow tulips. By the way, it's so nice of him”.

You said it affectionately, but it sounded incredibly weak. Along with the pain in your ribs, a headache joined in, and suddenly all the energy you'd had earlier evaporated.

“What's happening? Should I call a doctor?”

“No,” you shook your head in refusal. “I just need to lie down for a moment. Come here.”

Spencer followed your request and sat beside your bed, his body a little stiff, as if in guilt.

"I'm sorry I made you laugh."

"That's probably the strangest thing you could apologize for," you muttered, lying down in the position that was best for your neck, one you almost hated as much as the orthopedic collar. "Well, I guess I could come up with something stranger. Sorry I left that million dollars in your nightstand. It won't happen again."

"I'm not sure if this kind of chatter is particularly good for your condition."

"It helps me mentally, and that's what matters most. Besides, stop complaining."

"How could I possibly dare?"

He fell silent, simply watching you with quiet concern. You closed your eyes for a moment, unsure if you might accidentally drift off. After spending a week in a coma, your sleep routine had become completely erratic. You slept through the nights, mostly because there was little else to do, and you didn’t want to disturb the other patients in the ward. During the day, Spencer would visit, and you wanted to be as rested as possible when he was around.

When he wasn’t there, you sometimes napped during the day as well. According to the doctors, it was one of the best things you could do for your recovery—sleep and rest as much as your body needed.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked.

You hesitated for a long moment, because yes, something was weighing heavily on your mind. Had he guessed, or had he read it on your face?

“It’s just…” you began with a sigh. “You know Jude barely visits me? I mean, she shows up every day, but… she’s so tense and distant when she’s here. She doesn’t say much, and she won’t look me in the eyes.”

"She’s blaming herself," Spencer said softly.

“God, that’s so stupid,” you muttered.

You had a strange relationship with the accident. You thought about it as little as possible, keeping it at arm’s length. You knew Richard had been arrested, but you didn’t want to know the details of his sentencing. In no way did you see any of it as Jude’s fault, and it hurt you deeply to think that she did.

You spent a quiet moment together before Spencer leaned over you again, intending to kiss your forehead.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to go now,” he said, to which you nodded in understanding.

But then you shifted your head, pulling back just enough to stop him from brushing his lips against your forehead. He looked at you, puzzled, since you’d never minded it before.

This time, though, you wanted him to kiss you on the lips.

He kissed you slowly. You had almost forgotten how he tasted.

After that, you didn’t bother opening your eyes again. You let yourself imagine that he wasn’t leaving at all, and with that comforting thought, you drifted off to sleep.

Spencer had felt strange since the morning.

Energized and excited. In the absolute best possible way.

That day, he could finally take her home. Well, to his apartment. She needed someone to take care of her, and he felt honored to be that person.

The day before, he had made a very important, yet difficult decision. He invited JJ over and confessed everything to her—about the past few weeks and his struggles with relapsing into addiction. He needed to rid himself of that burden. Besides, he had promised himself that as long as she was living with him, not even the smallest dose of Dilaudid would find its way inside. Never again.

In his worst moments, he imagined that his friend would react with disgust—pure, painful disgust—and push him away. Instead, her eyes filled with something strange the moment he began to speak about how he had felt after Emily's death. Over and over, she whispered apologies, as though she were the one responsible for it.

He still missed Emily, of course, and he knew he would always miss her. That was just the way of things—people left, and it was up to you to decide whether you would remember them with heartbreaking despair or with a wistful sigh. In fact, these were merely two ends of the same spectrum, and it was very easy to get stuck at the beginning, unable to move forward.

She was surprisingly quiet in the car and seemed depressed. Actually, it was hard not to blame her. She had spent a long time in the hospital, gotten used to that routine, and the change made her feel lost. Sitting in the passenger seat, she kept her gaze fixed ahead, but not on the road. She couldn’t see where they were headed, which made it difficult for Spencer to tell her something… at least important.

When they stopped, she furrowed her brow in surprise.

“Why are we here?”

They were parked under his apartment, and she had been under the impression they were heading to her place.

“Sorry, I should’ve told you earlier, I really apologize,” Spencer blurted out in one breath, chaotically. “I absolutely realize that this is like putting you in a situation you didn’t expect, but… but when you were in the hospital, Jude found herself a new roommate. She didn’t really know how to tell you, but she had to do it because she couldn’t afford the rent on her own.”

For a long moment, she stared at him in silence, her face a mixture of shock, followed by understanding. She took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she muttered. “I understand her, I just… I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me this herself.”

Their relationship still remained deeply complicated, put to the test by guilt. Spencer couldn’t say much about it. It was something between the two of them, and he hardly knew Jude at all.

“I’m also sorry for asking you this so late,” he continued after a moment. “But… you can’t live alone, you know that. Someone… someone needs to be with you over the next few weeks and… I’m willing to be that person.”

Her lips remained slightly parted for a moment.

“You want… no, wait, you want me to move in with you?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, because before he could answer, she started shaking her head. “Spencer, I can’t. I can’t be that burden for you.”

“A burden? You’re not…”

“But I will be. In the next few weeks, I definitely will be.”

He took his hands off the steering wheel, placing them loosely on his knees.

“Can you… can you look at me for a moment?” he asked.

It took a moment before she hesitantly met his gaze. Her eyes were filled with embarrassed tears, tears full of unjust shame. Seeing this, pain spread through his chest.

“If the accident hadn’t happened, would you want to live with me?”

Her lips remained pressed together, and she sighed.

“It’s a big decision. Aside from the fact that if it weren’t for the accident, I wouldn’t even have to consider this option…”

“I just want to know if you would want to. Don’t think of it as an option, just as… a completely normal, life decision. Do you think you’d be able to handle having me around every day?”

She couldn’t help it, and her lips curled into a slight smile.

“We could try,” she finally replied.

Spencer straightened his arms.

“In that case, let’s go inside.”

“No, wait, it’s not that simple! My opinion shouldn’t matter; it’s you who needs to think about whether you want this…”

“I do.”

She snorted, resigned, not knowing what else to say.

“I can’t even tie my own shoes,” she tried one last time.

“I’ll gladly do it for you. What’s more, I know all kinds of knots. Simple, sailor’s, Chinese…”

“Spencer Reid, you’re impossible.”

For the rest of the day, she tried every possible way to talk him out of his decision. But when she finally accepted it, she struggled to accept his help with tasks she couldn’t do on her own.

It wasn’t until later that he realized how much she had been pretending in the hospital. He had only seen her for a fraction of her day, and she seemed so positive then. But this temporary disability had really taken a toll on her mentally. He could repeat and assure her, completely sincerely, that she wasn’t a burden to him, but deep down, she still believed otherwise.

So, when two days later, she timidly appeared in the bedroom doorway with the question of whether he could help her wash her hair, Spencer felt like he had won the lottery.

“Sure,” he agreed, probably a bit too enthusiastically, jumping to his feet so quickly that he almost tripped.

She pretended not to notice.

In the bathroom, he slowly helped her pull the shirt over her head, careful not to catch it on the collar still around her neck or accidentally cause her any pain.

“Be careful not to tilt your head too much, okay?” he asked, wetting her hair with the showerhead. She closed her eyes when a few drops of water splashed onto them. “Sorry!”

“For god's sake, Spencer, you're doing it more carefully than I would have done myself.”

It was true; he was acting as if he were performing some task at work that required absolute precision. He shrugged, massaging the strawberry shampoo into her hair. Foam quickly appeared, smelling sweet.

Suddenly, her hands tightened around the front of his shirt.

“Sorry,” she whispered, loosening her grip. “I got a little dizzy.”

Spencer immediately pressed his hands, still covered in shampoo, to her waist, afraid she might fall. He stared at her face for a long moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

And just then, her body suddenly went limp, falling forward.

Terrified, he let out a strangled cry.

“Hold on, please, don’t fall!” he kept repeating, doing everything he could to keep her upright.

Her hands hung limply on his shoulders, the foam and water soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t care at all.

“I’m right here, hold on to me as much as you can. C-c-can you hear me at all?”

He wondered whether it would be better to stand her up or lay her down while he could get to the phone and call an ambulance, when suddenly her weak touch grew stronger, and she let out a soft groan.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologizing. I’m still holding you, can you hear me?”

His heart was pounding incredibly fast as she gently pulled her head away from his chest. He, of course, didn’t let her stand on her own, constantly supporting her body, protecting her from a fall that could be disastrous.

Together, they left the shower cabin, her hair still covered in foam.

“Are you aware that this is how it’s going to look now?” she asked seriously.

Completely unfazed, he wiped the foam from her forehead, which was dangerously close to her eyes.

“I’d rather have you lose consciousness in my bathroom, right next to me, than risk… I don’t know, cracking your head open.”

For a moment, she was silent, the color beginning to return to her pale face, her gaze becoming more alert. He had a strange feeling that she was about to start crying, and since he really didn’t want that, he pulled her close again, in his usual protective gesture. Everything around them smelled of strawberries.

“Do you really have to be this good?”

Spencer snorted.

“I’m afraid it’s just my curse.”

“Are these people really arguing about whether a cucumber is a fruit or a vegetable?”

Sitting on the couch, you jumped when a voice spoke right behind you. At the last second, you caught your laptop before it slipped off your lap. You had been reading some absurd discussion on an online forum you stumbled upon completely by accident. And yes, these users were indeed arguing about whether a cucumber is a fruit or a vegetable.

“Damn it, Spencer!” you shouted, putting your hand over your heart, which was pounding in an agitated rhythm. You looked at your boyfriend with a scowl. “You almost gave me a heart attack. How is it possible I didn’t hear you come in?”

He shrugged. Leaning his elbows on the back of the couch, the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt revealed the skin of his forearms. In that position, he had a perfect view of the screen on your laptop. He had just returned from work, a rainy July evening, his hair slightly damp.

“I wasn’t sneaking around. You must’ve just been lost in thought. Want to tell me what’s occupying that beautiful mind of yours?” He leaned in to place a kiss on your temple.

“Beautiful mind, huh?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Just a few days ago, you told me that if a 19th-century priest heard even one thought from my head, he’d go into anaphylactic shock. Whatever that was supposed to mean.”

"In a big simplification, what I meant is that even though I love you, sometimes your way of thinking scares me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"By the way, I bought land for Alexander."

Alexander was your new flycatcher, which had grown so much that it completely prevented the other flowers on the windowsill from growing. Due to its conqueror tendencies, you decided to name it after one of them.

"Do you want to repot it into a new pot now...?"

"No. Now you need to come to me."

You set the laptop aside and waited for him to take a seat on the couch. Before fully snuggling into him, you untied and removed the tie from his neck, then unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, just the way you liked.

You sighed almost instantly; his body was more comfortable than a pillow. Warm, with your favorite scent. You rested your head on his chest as his fingers gently combed through your hair.

In the first few weeks after you were discharged from the hospital, you couldn’t even sleep in the same bed. There was a risk that, in his sleep, he might accidentally bump into your neck and cause damage. Spencer enforced that rule strictly, as he did with every precaution related to your health.

Six months had passed since the accident, and for the past four months, you hadn’t worn a neck brace or needed help with daily tasks. But that didn’t change the fact that, sometimes, when you showered together, he would wash your hair just like he used to. Anyway, you were still attending rehabilitation and would need to for a long time, but despite that, you felt like you had fully returned to normal life.

You lifted yourself slightly to look at his face.

"I was walking to the bar today," you began.

You’d been considering going back to work for a while now, and the doctors had assured you there was no reason you couldn’t. You wanted something to occupy your hands and craved the sense of purpose that came with a task. You’d mentioned it to Spencer long ago, so he didn’t seem surprised when you brought it up.

"And? Will they take you back?"

"No. I mean, it’s not that they don’t want to, I just didn’t get there. That’s why I said I was walking and not that I went to a bar. Are you following?"

"I'm trying."

"So, listen to this. I took the subway and got off at that station near the room I used to rent."

The landlord had asked for the keys back shortly after your accident. Your arrangement had been that, in exchange for using the space, you cleaned it daily. Of course, you hadn’t been able to keep up with that anymore.

"...And I don't know, I was overwhelmed by this strange feeling, like I wanted to go back to it. Helping people."

"You help people all the time," Spencer reminded you. "All our neighbors come to you to vent about everything happening in their lives."

"That's true, but I mean, you know, professional help," you said, taking a deeper breath. You couldn't decide whether you were more excited or nervous about the decision. "I've been thinking about going back to uni, Spencer."

He straightened up, almost causing you to slide off his chest. Filled with tension, you watched his reaction closely. You’d spent the entire day wondering what he might say. Would he share your enthusiasm and support your plans, or would he try to talk you out of it, reasoning that you’d dropped out of school once and might not manage it again?

These thoughts were incredibly silly. Spencer—knowledge-obsessed, ever-curious Spencer—would never say something like that.

Instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering how incredible the idea was. You melted into it completely, feeling more elated than ever and unable to stop thinking about the crazy chain of cause and effect that had led to this specific moment, this particular relationship, and above all, this exact happiness.

do you accept this overly sweet ending as my apology? :> tagging: @nightfullofparadox @lillaberry @fortheloveofgubler @opheliahotchner @cowboy1ikereid @penelopegarciaismygf

sorry if i forgot about someone!

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x oc #criminal mind #derek morgan #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #dr reid

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fairqves · 8 months ago

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⋆ ｡⋆୨୧˚— I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU !

𝜗𝜚 ༘⋆ ⋆˙pairing. enemy! park jongseong x fem! reader synopsis. you and jay had always despised each other- at least that’s what you thought until jay got a girlfriend, your true hidden feelings making its way to the surface- uh oh.. genre. angst ,, fluff ,, wc. 2500. 𝐥u𝐧a notes ⋆.˚ this is so labyrinth coded 🫧 — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂

if you enjoyed reading, please like & reblog !! <3

YOU HAD KNOWN PARK JONGSEONG FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, AND YOU HATED HIM FOR NEARLY JUST AS LONG.

from the very first moment you laid eyes on him in kindergarten, he had been nothing but a thorn in your side. it all started when you had asked the young boy to be friends- instead of a yes, you got water spat on your face as he cackled at you- yes, cackled.

you despised him. his teasing, his smirks, his constant attempts to one-up you in every single aspect of life—it all grated on your nerves, day after day.

the relationship between you and jay was well-known. your friends and family had long since accepted it as a fact of life. you couldn't bare to stand him, and he couldn't stand you. it’s as simple as that.

until it wasn't.

the first crack in your carefully constructed wall of hatred came when jay got a girlfriend. her name was minji, and she was everything you were not—soft-spoken, gentle, and sweet. she was always by his side, laughing at his jokes, holding his hand. it shouldn't have mattered to you at all. in fact, you should have been relieved. if he was busy with his girlfriend, maybe he would leave you alone for once in your years of living.

but it didn't feel like relief. it felt like something else entirely, something you knew was wrong, something sharp and painful that you couldn't quite place. you found yourself watching them more than you would care to admit, your eyes drawn to the way he looked at her, his eyes sparkling, the way he touched her. and with each passing day, the ache in your chest grew stronger, more insistent. more unbearable.

you really did try to ignore it, to push it away deep inside of you and pretend it didn't exist, but it was no use. the feelings you had harboured for so long, hidden beneath layers of anger, resentment, and pride were bubbling up to the surface. you were falling for him, and you were falling deep. it was the most terrifying thing you had ever experienced as a teenage girl.

so, you did the only reasonable thing you could think of, you avoided him. you stopped going to places where you knew he would be, you stopped engaging in the petty arguments that had once been a staple of your interactions and everyday life. you had distanced yourself as much as you possibly could, hoping that the feelings would fade away with time.

but jay noticed. of course he did. and he didn't like it one bit.

one evening after school, after yet another successful day of avoiding jay, you found yourself cornered in the hallway of your apartment building, which he knew the address of from a day where you were sick, and delivered you your missed homework and soup, which he claimed he was forced to deliver to you.

he had been waiting for you, his expression a mixture of confusion, a bit of sadness? and anger.

"what's your problem, y/n?" he demanded, his voice low and tense. "why have you been avoiding me, huh?"

you crossed your arms, shaking off the butterflies from talking to him for the first time in weeks, trying to keep your composure. "i haven't been avoiding you," you lied, your voice shaken and unsteady

"bullshit," he snapped. "you've been avoiding me for weeks. did i do something to piss you off more than usual? because if i did, ill fix it.”

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "it's nothing, don’t worry. just leave me alone, jay."

"no," he said, stepping closer. "i won't leave you alone until you tell me what's going on, y/n." he whispered.

his proximity made it hard to breathe, let alone think. the scent of his cologne, the intensity of his gaze—it was all way too much for you to bare. you could feel the walls you had so carefully built around your heart beginning to crumble.

"why do you care?" you shot back, your voice trembling anxiously. "you have minji now. go bother her for all i care!”

jay's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening with a frown. "this isn't about minji. this is about you and me. why are you avoiding me?"

"because i can't stand you! being around you!" you shouted angrily, the words bursting from you before you could stop them.

"why?" he demanded, his voice rising. "what did i do that's so bad you can't even be in the same room as me?"

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. but the emotions that have been building inside you the past few weeks were too strong, too overwhelming. you couldn't keep them bottled up any longer.

"because i’m in love with you, okay?" you yelled, tears streaming down your face. "i love you, and it hurts to see you with somebody that’s not me..”

for a moment, there was silence. jay stared at you, his eyes wide with shock. the world seemed to stand still, the only sound the pounding of your heart in your ears, as you cursed under your breathe shutting your eyes anxiously in panic.

"you… love me?" he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

you nodded, unable to speak. the confession had left you feeling raw and vulnerable, and you didn't know what to do next.

jay's expression hardened, and without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart shattered into a million pieces as you fell onto your knees and sobbed, you sobbed for your broken heart and for the loss of the relationship you had with jay- gone forever.

the next two weeks were a blur of constant pain and complete and utter embarrassment. jay ignored you completely, avoiding you at every turn. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to distract yourself from the aching heartbreak and void inside you. your friends noticed the change, but you couldn't bring yourself to explain. how could you tell them that the person you had hated for so long had become the one you loved? and even worse, broke your heart.

you saw jay and minji together more often than you would have liked. each time, it felt like a knife twisting in your heart. but you forced yourself to smile, to act like everything was fine. it was the only way you knew how to cope.

one day, while you were sitting in the campus courtyard, lost in your thoughts, someone sat down next to you. you looked up to see taehyun, one of your friends from class. his presence was a welcome distraction from the feelings inside you.

"hey," he said, patting your shoulder giving you a warm smile. "you look like you could use some company."

you smiled back, grateful for his kindness. "yeah, i guess i could."

taehyun was easy to talk to, he was kind and understanding, and before long, you found yourself laughing and joking with him. it was a relief to feel something other than pain for the first time in the last few weeks, even if it was only for a little while. he pulled you into a hug, after you had finally opened up about your situation and you let yourself relax in his embrace, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, sniffling away your tears.

unbeknownst to you, jay was watching from a distance. he had come to the courtyard to clear his head from everything, from the confusion and the dull feeling in his heart, but the sight of you with taehyun stopped him in his tracks. the way you laughed, the way you hugged him—it should have made him happy to see you smiling again after breaking your heart. but instead, it filled him with a burning jealousy and sadness.

seeing you with taehyun brought everything into sharp focus. and it suddenly hit him- he realized that he had been a fool, pushing you away when he should have been holding you close. he couldn't deny it anymore longer—he was deeply in love with you. and he couldn't stand the thought of losing you to somebody else.

jay knew what he had to do- that evening, jay broke up with minji. it was one of the hardest things he had ever done, she was a kind and sweet girl, but he knew it was the right thing. minji deserved someone who could love her- and that wasn’t him. his heart had always belonged to you.

the next day, jay found you sitting alone in the library, studying and deep in focus. he approached anxiously and cautiously, his heart feeling like it was about to explode in his chest.

"can we talk please?" he asked, his voice quiet.

you looked up, surprise and shock flickering in your eyes before looking down again. "kinda busy- what do you want, jay?"

he took a deep breath, steeling himself. "i'm sorry. for everything, y/n. i never should have ignored you. i was in denial, i was scared and confused, but that's no excuse."

you stayed silent anxiously playing with your fingers, waiting for him to continue.

"i broke up with minji," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "because i realized something that took a while for me to realize but i’m here now- i realized that i'm in love with you."

your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. "you… you what?”

"i'm in love with you, y/n. i’m so in love with you" he repeated, his voice breaking as his eyes shined with sincerity. "i've been in love with you for a long time, but i was too stupid to see it. and when you told me how you felt, it scared the hell out of me. i didn't know how to handle it, so i pushed you away. but i can't do that anymore."

tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, your heart aching with a mixture of hope and fear. "do you really mean it?" you whispered.

jay nodded, his gaze unwavering. "i mean it. i love you. and if you'll give me a chance, i promise i'll do everything i can to make it up to you, please y/n.”

you searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deception. but all you saw was honesty, a raw vulnerability that took your breath away.

"i don't know if i can trust you," you said quietly, your voice trembling. "you hurt me, jay. a lot."

"i know," he said, his voice breaking as he cups your cheek, leaning his forehead against yours. "and i'm so, so sorry. but i'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me. i promise."

for a long moment, you stayed silent, the weight of his words sinking in. and then, slowly, you nodded. "okay," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "one chance, jay. but if you hurt me again, that's it. i'm done."

jay's face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy. he reached out, taking your hand in his, looking into your eyes for permission as you nodded with a soft grin.

jays lips feel soft against yours, you spent many nights wondering what it would be like to be like to kiss jay, and it’s even better than you could’ve imagined.

and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

the weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. jay was true to his word, doing everything in his power to prove himself to you. he showed up at your door with your favourite coffee order every morning, walked you to your classes with your hand in his, and spent every spare moment with you. he was attentive, kind, thoughtful, and for the first time, truly present.

your friends noticed the change in him too. they saw the way he looked at you, hearts in his eyes and the way he treated you with a newfound gentleness and adoration. it was clear to everyone that park jay was a changed man, and it was all because of you.

but there were still moments of where you were in denial, times when the past hurt you felt would come back, casting a shadow over your happiness. the moment came to you on a rainy afternoon, the weather complimenting your mood as you sat together in a quiet café. the rain pattered against the windows, creating a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

jay gave you a knowing look as he reached across the table, taking your hand in his.

"i love you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "i know i've said it before, but i need you to know how much you mean to me. you're my everything, so get those thoughts out of your head, mmh?”

he said pulling you into a soft kiss across the table.

tears welled up in your eyes at his words. it was everything you had ever wanted to hear, but the fear still lingered, a dark cloud over your heart.

"i love you too," you whispered, your voice trembling. "but i'm scared, jay. i'm scared of getting hurt again- it was so bad.” you said as you closed your eyes with a trembling voice.

jay's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes shining with determination and love. "i know," he said. "and i will spend the rest of my life proving to you that you have nothing to fear. i will never hurt you again, i promise baby.”

time passed, and true to his word, jay continued to be the man you deserved. he was patient, understanding, and never once pressured you. he was there for you in ways he had never been before, and slowly but surely, the trust and reassurance began to appear.

one warm night, as you sat together on the same playground jay had rejected you on as kids, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"i can’t bare losing you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "you're my everything."

you looked up at him, your heart overflowing with love. "you won't," you said, your voice steady and sure. "we're in this together, you can’t get rid of me that easily."

you both threw your heads back, laughing together as the moonlight shined down on you.

and as he held you close, you knew that no matter what pain he had caused you before- you knew that your love for each other was stronger than anything else.

@FAIRQVES 2024

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tinylilacbun · 18 days ago

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I feel like the whole kidnapping situation would give reader so much stress in the first few weeks that her little side would sometimes slip out, even tho she tries to repress. She would whimper and try to suck her thumb as a self soothing habit almost unintentionally, and everytime jj tries to gain her trust and replace her thumb with his, she would slap his hand or jerk away. But as the months go by and the "trust" comes, he would be the one cuddling her and giving her his thumb (even at the times he's the reason she's sad, because he's manipulative like that)

You're trying so, so hard to keep your composure. It's been days or even weeks, you don't even know anymore, having completely lost a sense of time in this cramped bedroom, at least you know when it's day or night thanks to the windows that are sealed shut.

Your mind has been screaming at you to regress, to get a break from the constant stress you're being faced with but keep telling yourself that you can handle this, that you'll find a way out and everything will be over.

JJ makes sure you're always confronted with your little space to give you no choice but to regress at some points, just like the pacifier that's laying on the nightstand that you don't dare to touch and give him the satisfaction that he's getting to you.

Or the plushie that you keep throwing across the room whenever he places it back beside you, and the only source of warmth is the colorful blanket with tiny bunnies printed on it.

As the time passes by JJ checks up on you more often during the day, not just to give you food water, or taking you to the bathroom when needed, because your resolve begins to crumble the more he's being gentle with you.

You're so in your head that you don't even notice when your thumb makes its way into your mouth, closing your eyes as you soothe yourself and try to blend out the way the handcuff on your left wrists that's attached to the headboard digs into your skin.

You don't even flinch when you feel the bed dip, only opening your eyes as you feel a hand running through your hair, seeing JJ sitting beside you with a soft smile on his face.

Your body doesn't even tense up as it used to whenever he is near, you even start to appreciate the little bits of affection he gives you.

You've made so much progress without even realizing, not flinching away or talking back to him as you did at the start.

You're completely overwhelmed with everything lately, not understanding what's going on in your head, why you can't bring yourself to claw at his face or keep fighting his every attempt of being close to you.

The tears start to slip before you can stop them, sniffling into the pillow as you sink into that familiar floaty feeling you always have whenever you regress.

You don't even resist when JJ moves to lay down beside you, carefully manoeuvring you to cradle you in his arms, covering you with your blanket as you quietly weep into his shirt.

"Sh, I know, it's okay. Papa's got you." He murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head as he rocks you back and forth gently.

Papa. He keeps addressing himself with that title. You don't even know his real name, he never mentioned it or found it necessary to tell you since he'll only be papa to you, nothing else.

JJ's has waited so long to get you to this point, to make you crave his comfort, the way he assures you that you don't have to worry about anything anymore, that he'll always be there to protect.

He slowly grabs your wrist to pull your thumb out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with his before you could protest, breathing out when you seem to accept it and nuzzle more into his body warmth.

"There we go. You're all good, little bun." He hums, reaching into his pocket with his free hand to get out a set of keys, carefully unlocking the cuff around your wrist for the first time in weeks, tracing the red mark before wrapping his arm around you again.

He presses a kiss against your hairline, getting a little more comfortable on the bed with you cuddled against him, tucking the lovey - that he stole from your house just before he kidnapped you - into your arms, smiling when you instinctively hug it closer to your chest. "Things will get better, you'll see. As long as you behave we could have it real nice."

#chasing shadow au #stalker!jj drabble #little!reader

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vettelsvee · 9 months ago

Text

I DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR WINNING | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

rbr sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader | part 2 here

summary: y/n thinks she's sick from f1 traveling stress, but what if that's not the reason of her sickness?

word count: 992

warnings: hints of having sex. mentions of wishing to die (because reader is sick af). use of y/n

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

It was barely five in the morning, and the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon of the city of Berlin. Sebastian and you, without having been able to rest after the German Grand Prix that had taken place just hours ago, were at the airport of the German capital, ready to head to Hungary, where the next Formula 1 competition would be held.

You were aware that following the lifestyle of a high-level racing driver was not easy. However, you didn't think that getting eight hours of sleep or having free time would become privileges that you would have, in part, during the holiday period. Despite the excitement that filled you every time you embarked on a new destination, you had been feeling unwell for several days, and no matter how hard you tried to remedy it, all you did was worsen it.

Seb, who knew you well enough to know that something was wrong, tried not to make a big deal out of it. He knew that you tended to get sick frequently, although the fact that you was quieter than usual and didn't have as much energy as usual started to worry the blonde who, at the moment of takeoff, observed carefully as your face grew paler, while you gripped the armrest of the seat tightly.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Sebastian asked with concern.

You tried to breathe deeply to calm the wave of nausea you were feeling right now.

"Yes," you simply replied, faking a smile. "I just feel a little uncomfortable with takeoff, you know airplanes and I are not friends. Stop worrying, love. You'll see it'll pass soon."

Despite your multiple reassurances, Seb couldn't convince himself. Your eyes reflected how you felt, and he had no doubt that you were hiding something from him to avoid worrying him.To try to relax you, he leaned towards you to leave a kiss on your cheek.

"Sweetheart, I know you've told me you're okay, but if you start feeling worse, let me know, okay?"

You nodded, silently thanking the German for his concern.

Although he tried not to make a big deal out of it, the truth was that as the flight progressed towards its destination, you felt worse, even reaching the point where nausea turned into frequent trips to the bathroom to vomit, and constant dizziness into a desire to faint and not wake up for a few days.

"Seb, I swear… I can't deal with this anymore."

After suddenly getting up from your seat, hurrying to the bathroom trying not to cause too much commotion among the other passengers, you quickly locked yourself in the small cubicle, bending over the toilet to empty everything you didn't know you had inside yourself. Sebastian watched with concern as you fled, trying not to lose his composure under the curious gaze of those present, including a few Red Bull engineers.

“Y/N!”, Seb called out as quietly as he could, anxious because you weren’t responding. “Are you okay? Please, open the door.”

You didn't answer him, which only heightened Vettel's anxiety. He fixed his gaze on the bathroom door, waiting for you to come out and give him some explanation of what was happening.

After what felt like an eternity, you emerged from the bathroom with a completely pale face and a tired look. Sebastian simply pulled her close to his chest and held her tightly in an embrace.

"Love, what's wrong?" he said anxiously. "I need to know what's going on. Things can't continue like this if you're going to keep accompanying me. I'm sure it's getting to you: everything is overwhelming you and..."

Suddenly, you began to cry from the helplessness you were feeling, causing Sebastian to hold you even tighter, stroking your back to help you relax as much as possible.

"I can't take it anymore, Seb. I feel awful. I want to die right now."

"We should seek help," he said, wiping your tears away. "We'll see what we can do now to keep you as relaxed as possible for the remainder of the flight, okay? And when we land, we'll go to an emergency room to see what's wrong with you."

Sebastian then called one of the flight attendants in their area and explained the distressing situation, emphasizing that he wouldn't want anyone to find out to avoid conflicts with both the media and his team. The flight attendant simply nodded and informed them to return to their seats, immediately assisting the world champion's partner.

"Mrs. Vettel, here's some water and an aspirin," the woman kindly offered you. "Additionally, I've informed the crew about your wife's situation," she said, now looking at the blonde, "and they confirmed that if she gets worse, there's no problem in making an emergency landing at the nearest airport."

"I'm not Sebastian's wife..."

"Thank you very much," the driver interrupted, thanking the flight attendant for her assistance.

The German began to laugh at your reaction as soon as the woman left.

"You should have seen your face, Y/N. You can't deny that you didn't mind being referred to as my wife," Seb said, stroking your hair and opening the water bottle for you to take a sip.

The flight continued, and although the nausea had been brought under control, the discomfort persisted. The couple was aware that there was only, thankfully, about half an hour of travel left.

"Darling," Sebastian whispered sweetly. "Close your eyes and focus on your breathing: inhale through your nose, and exhale through your mouth. I'm here, hold my hand."

You followed your partner's instructions, allowing yourself to be guided by his voice, which was truly comforting in those moments, in each inhalation and exhalation. Gradually, you began to feel calmer, and you would even swear that you hadn't felt this way in several days.

Finally, the plane reached its destination. You felt greatly relieved that the flight, which had caused you so much distress, had come to an end as it had left her physically and mentally exhausted.

As soon as your feet touched Hungarian soil, Sebastian made sure that you felt as comfortable as possible before heading to the hotel. Despite the rush Britta, Sebastian's PR, took a moment in some small seats to rest and, as much as possible, recover from the turbulent journey they had just endured.

Although he knew he might hurt your feelings, Sebastian decided to broach the subject with a mischievous smile:

"Love, don't you think we've had enough intense Sunday nights celebrating my victories? Because I think it's led to something good."

At first, you were a bit confused, but a few seconds later you let out a shy and sweet laugh. The driver wasn't lying: sex had become your ritual to bid farewell to the weekend and, above all, as a celebration of Seb's victories that season. Now that you remembered, there were quite a few occasions where you didn’t use protection, so you thought that the possibility was even more up in the air now.

"It could be, Seb," you said with a knowing smile. "If I am, we could have a pretty big problem..."

"Please, love, don't say that," Vettel drew closer to you, taking your hand and gently tracing small circles on it with his fingers. "If you're pregnant, I'm sure you'll be an amazing mother. Besides, I know we haven't talked about this, but I've always wanted to be a father and I can't imagine anyone better than you to fulfill this dream."

Tears began to form in your eyes, and you hurried to wipe them away to prevent your boyfriend from noticing.

"So, what do you say? Should we tell Britta that we need to go to the pharmacy and buy a test? That way we can find out, and if it's a no, we can keep trying," you clarified eagerly. "What do you think about tonight?"

Feeling excited, after you explained the situation to the woman who had become another member of the family, and who, obviously, had been thrilled at the possible news, headed to the nearest pharmacy to avoid arousing suspicions among the journalists and paparazzi, who were lurking around with the intention of getting the latest scoop on the man of the moment.

Alone together and holding the small bag containing the test, you began to feel nervous as they approached their room. Upon entering the suite, you both sat on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to calm themselves before checking whether you would become parents.

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath, "I'm ready."

After that, you opened the box containing the test and went to the bathroom, where you followed the instructions carefully. Once finished, you placed it on the surface of the sink and returned to where Seb was, waiting for the indicated time to pass to see the result.

You approached your boyfriend, who gently stroked your back once again to comfort you. He knew you were nervous and scared. He felt the same way.

"Whatever the result is, I'm grateful to have a woman like you in my life. I'll be by your side no matter what, ok?" Sebastian reassured you.

Tears filled the your eyes again, and as you looked at your watch and saw that the waiting time was over, you ran as fast as you could to the bathroom, followed by an anxious Sebastian.

Quickly, you took the test in your hands and saw the result:

"It's positive!" you shouted, your voice trembling. "I'm pregnant, Sebastian!"

A wave of emotions engulfed you both, not knowing what to do except to embrace tightly as you felt a mixture of astonishment and joy, as well as uncertainties about what could happen from that moment on.

"Well, it turns out that in the end I'm not just good at pointing with my index finger when I win," Sebastian teased you mischievously.

"I find it surreal that you're making dirty jokes after finding out we're going to have a child."

"I guess," the driver continued playfully, "we'll have to tell this little one that his dad is a two-time, for now, Formula 1 world champion, and that his mother is a champion in other aspects."

You laughed at your boyfriend's quips, finding them unbelievable.

"Come on, Seb, don't act modest now saying you didn't have merit. You know perfectly well that I motivated you quite a bit during those baby-making sessions."

"Of course, I'm not saying otherwise," the German continued jokingly. "I'm sure the baby will become the royalty of Formula 1. Who wouldn't want to have Vettel and Schumacher genes?"

Both of you burst into laughter, filling the room, giving way your thoughts on how you would tell your families, the media, your respective coworkers... Especially, you spent a few minutes sharing your expectations about what your life would be like from that day on.

"Miss Schumacher and future Mrs. Vettel, let me tell you that now that we know we're expecting a little miracle, I propose we celebrate it in a more... intimate way."

"You can't even give me a day's break, can you? I don't know about you, but I'm convinced my father wouldn't find it amusing to hear his daughter screaming to ask her boyfriend for more," you said, knowing your father would be in the adjacent rooms.

"I know," Seb simply said, "but I’ve won in life, and I don't apologize for winning."

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moonpascal · 5 months ago

Text

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER TWO series masterlist

SUMMARY II WC: 2.1k

After the tense encounter with Theo, you’re unsettled and distracted.

WARNINGS

angst, migraines, anxiety, feelings of emptiness

AUTHORS NOTE

this is more of a filler chapter. this took many rewrites and i’m hoping this is good enough! (although this plays into deathly hollows it will not follow it. mostly used it for the room of requirement scene). thank you for all the love on the first chapter!

Thank you thank you @amiableness for reading this and listening to me stress over it all! i love you! 🤎

You sat at the Gryffindor table, staring blankly at your plate. The usual warmth of the Great Hall—its lively morning chatter and clinking dishes—felt distant, like a scene observed through a glass wall. Harry and Hermione were talking softly beside you, but their words barely registered. Your mind kept circling back to the hallway, replaying the way Theo had looked at you.

The cruel words you’d hurled at him still echoed in your mind. Theo’s eyes, filled with anger and hurt, kept flashing in your memory. You couldn’t shake the image, nor could you understand why it affected you so deeply. It was just Theodore Nott-a Slytherin you barely knew. So why did the thought of him in pain twist your insides with guilt?

“Harry, why was Nott so mad at you?” Your voice cut through their conversation, drawing startled looks from both Harry and Hermione. They exchanged a brief, tense glance.

Before Harry could respond, Ron interjected. “Doesn’t take much to set that lot off. Probably thought he looked at him funny.”

While Ron’s words had a grain of truth, they didn’t fully explain Theo’s reaction. Although Theo wasn’t innocent, you’d noticed he rarely got into fights unless provoked—though no one deserved to be hit regardless of their reasoning. Yet, with Harry involved, and given the Slytherins’ usual treatment of him, it was hard to dismiss Ron’s comment. Theo often stayed in the background, smirking as others were bullied, but he rarely got his hands dirty.

The way Theo treated the other years was something you despised, and you always stood up for the victims of Slytherin cruelty. The frustration bubbling inside you mixed with an unsettling feeling you couldn’t quite place. So you simply hummed in agreement.

Your head throbbed, a constant reminder of the earlier events of the past 24 hours. As you pushed your food around your plate, you kept glancing at the doors to the Great Hall, expecting someone or something to happen. Hermione must have noticed because she nudged you, pulling you back into the conversation.

But you didn’t catch Harry and Hermione’s silent exchange, too lost in your own thoughts. Everything felt off today, your emotions were raw, on edge. Whenever you tried to pinpoint the source of your unease, it slipped away, leaving you more confused.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing had happened to make you feel this way—at least, nothing you could recall. You’d woken up in the hospital wing with a headache and a vague sense of confusion, Theo strangely sitting nearby. But Madam Pomfrey had assured you it was nothing serious—a bump on the head, perhaps a little too much stress. As she gave you a sleeping draught to take later.

So why did it feel like something was missing? Like a piece of your heart had been taken, leaving behind a hollow space?

Harry was speaking again, his voice soft with concern, but you barely heard him. You nodded automatically, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. You just needed some fresh air, some time to clear your head. Maybe then the tightness in your chest would ease, and the world would stop closing in on you.

You excused yourself from the table, ignoring the worried glances from your friends as you slipped out of the Great Hall. The cool air in the corridor was a relief, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

But even as you walked aimlessly through the castle, the unease persisted. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, a sense of dread that clung to you.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of a window, closing your eyes. You just needed to rest, to give your mind a break. Maybe you’d take that draught soon.

As you walked into class, a wave of whispers followed you, accompanied by fleeting glances. Normally, you were used to blending in—not exactly shy, but not someone who sought the spotlight either. Today, though, it felt like everyone had something to say about you, twisting your stomach with discomfort.

You kept your head down, heading for a seat in the back, hoping to escape the attention. You set your bag on the table, pulling out your parchment and quill with slightly trembling hands. The pounding in your head was getting worse, each throb making you consider skipping the rest of your classes.

You rubbed your temples, trying to soothe the ache, so focused on your discomfort that you didn’t notice Theo slipping into the seat beside you.

When you finally looked up, your body tensed. Theo’s jaw was tight, his expression hard. You knew why—your argument had been harsh, and the guilt that had been gnawing at you all morning flared up again.

You were surprised he sat beside you, thinking he wouldn’t want anything to do with you now, especially after this morning’s exchange. Let alone being this close to anyone outside of Slytherin. But you knew you had to apologize for saying those awful words in the heat of the moment. Just as you lifted your arm to nudge him, Lavender turned in her seat, her eyes landing on you with concern.

“Hey Trouble, how are you feeling?” she asked softly, nervously glancing at Theo. “I heard you were in an accident. I was worried, but was told no visitors.”

You blinked, confusion flickering in your mind before you forced a response. “I’m… okay, I think. It must’ve been a pretty bad fall since I’ve had this migraine all day,” you tried to joke, but the weak attempt didn’t erase the worry in her eyes.

Before Lavender could say more, Theo cleared his throat, shooting her a look that made her quickly turn back to the front just as the professor began the lesson.

You struggled to focus on the lecture, as the pounding in your head intensified. You sighed in frustration, squeezing your eyes shut to block out the lights and noise. The migraine was worse than any you’d had before, leaving you anxious, wondering if there was more to your accident than you remembered.

Just as you were about to spiral into worry, you felt a subtle pressure at your side. Theo had leaned closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for some ink.

Normally, you would’ve tensed at the invasion of your personal space, but instead, the warmth of his presence was oddly grounding. The anxiety and pain that had been building all day eased just a fraction, allowing you to take a breath that didn’t feel so tight in your chest.

Whether intentional or not, Theo stayed close, his side pressed against yours, a silent connection that gave you a fleeting sense of calm.

As the lesson dragged on, the professor’s words blurred together, becoming an indistinct hum in the background of your thoughts. Despite Theo’s comforting presence, the tension in your body refused to fully release. You could feel his gaze on you from time to time, a mix of concern and something you couldn’t quite identify.

When the class finally ended, students began gathering their things, eager to leave. You remained seated, reluctant to move, still grappling with the persistent ache in your head and the knot of emotions in your chest. Theo didn’t make a move to leave either. Instead, he waited, his presence steady beside you.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and concerned. “Are you okay?”

You hesitated, wondering why you felt so vulnerable around Theodore of all people. “I don’t know,” you replied quietly, your voice tinged with exhaustion. “I feel like something is wrong, but I can’t quite pinpoint it.”

Theo’s eyes softened, and he slowly turned to face you fully in his chair. His hand hesitantly moved to rest on top of yours, his touch soft and anchoring. It made you feel worse, knowing you’d said such harsh things to him, and yet here he was, comforting you—someone you never expected to show this kind of care, let alone toward you.

You took a deep breath, gathering the courage to say what had been weighing on you all day. “Theodore, I’m sorry,” you began, your voice soft but sincere. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was scared and angry, but that doesn’t make it right. It wasn’t fair, and you didn’t deserve it.”

You could see him visibly deflate, as if your apology wasn’t what he was hoping for. But he quickly masked his emotions, sitting straighter with a blank expression.

“It’s fine,” he said your name, like it pained him to say it. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

His dejected tone caused an ache in your chest. You’d never had a one-on-one conversation with Nott until today, and it felt off.

You wanted to say something to comfort him in return, but a sharp pain in your right temple made you recoil, and Theo quickly caught you before you could fall from your chair. His touch sent another wave of warmth through you.

“Woah easier there, what��s happening?” Theo’s words cut through as you blinked, trying to focus.

“I’m fine. I think I just need some rest. I’ll see you around, Theodore. Thank you,” you murmured, gathering your things and half haphazardly shoving them into your bag. You walked out of the class, feeling his gaze on you the entire time.

The further you got to your dorm, the more uneasy you felt, your mind racing trying to grasp at something.

When you finally reached your room, you immediately collapsed onto your bed, your bag dropping with a thud as a vial rolled out.

You’d completely forgotten Madam Pomfrey had given you a sleeping draught and took it without hesitation and settled into bed, too tired to notice the faint vanilla and cigarette scent lingering.

The sleeping draught did its job, but only for a few hours. You woke up feeling empty, at least your headache had subsided. The dreams that had visited you were oddly vivid—filled with a gentle comfort and a loving presence—but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t place where they came from.

In your dream, a faceless figure held you close, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, placing delicate kisses on your shoulder. The love you felt in the dream was almost overwhelming, as if it was something you’d known for years. But every time you tried to focus on the details, a sharp jolt in the back of your head pulled you away, leaving you more confused.

You tried to fall back asleep after noticing it was well past midnight, meaning you’d missed the rest of your classes and dinner. Feeling restless, and knowing your dormmates slept like the dead—or with silencing charms—you decided to tidy up your side of the room. It was messier than you remembered.

As you gathered your clothes into a neat pile, you spotted some jumpers and hoodies you didn’t recognize. Frowning, you folded them and placed them next to your trunk, deciding to ask about them later. Then you noticed a green tie peeking out from under your bed. You sighed, assuming it was one of Grace’s latest conquests leaving their things behind, and tossed it onto her side of the room.

Once everything was in order, you turned your attention to the blank picture frames scattered across your desk. Which was odd not recalling when you bought so many. You’d just have to take some photos to fill those soon.

As you undressed for a shower, your fingers brushed against a cool metal object resting against your chest. You hadn’t noticed it before, and a sense of unease settled over you. Gently lifting it into view, you realized it was a locket—intricately detailed, with your favorite flowers etched in gold on the surface and your initials engraved on the back.

You tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Maybe it was just designed that way, you thought, but the fact that you couldn’t recall ever owning it puzzled you. Curiosity piqued, you took it off, intending to examine it later. But as soon as the chain slipped from your neck, a sudden wave of emptiness washed over you, leaving you breathless.

Without thinking, you clasped it back on, and the feeling slowly faded. You decided to leave it there, too tired to worry about it out now. You’d ask your friends about it in the morning.

After a long, hot shower, you finally climbed into bed, wishing for more dreams of the faceless figure who had brought you such a profound sense of comfort and safety.

If you enjoyed, please reblog or comment! Your words keep me motivated to write.

dividers from @saradika-graphics

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott fanfic #theo nott fanfic #slytherin boys #theodore nott angst #theo nott angst #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theo nott imagine #theodore nott series #theo nott series #moons writing ☾

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madhatterbri · 8 months ago

Text

You | D.P.

Summary: hello ^^ is it okay if i request Damian Priest x Fem!Reader where she feels secretly jealous of the constant attention Damian gets from women ever since he became World Heavyweight Champion and they just keep flirting with him. So the reader kind of like distancing herself, and it makes Damian wonder why. When another new week of Monday Night Raw came and Damian finally caught the reader before the show starts and brought her to the locker room backstage. Reader explains the reason why and then Damian just goes on to prove how much he loves only her and then they make love in the locker room :3 i'd like it to be a fluffy smut, please if its ok hehe. Smut. 18+.

Other Damian Priest fics can be found here.

Requested by anon

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms @brideofinfamy @mrsarcherofinfamy @theworldofotps

Y/N wasn't a jealous girlfriend. At least she didn't think so until he won his championship. She was so excited for him. All his hard work finally paid off. Damian was finally getting the recognition he deserved. Nothing could rain on their parade until it the other women decided they wanted to entertain him.

He was friendly to them. It was part of his job to not be a jerk to the fans. Yet they started bothering them even when it wasn't when they were at the arenas. Even date nights, the fans would talk to him. He kept the conversations brief at first. Then he started having full conversations with them. She would just keep walking to not just stand around. As time wore on, Y/N felt ignored.

Y/N started to build a wall between them. She would talk to Damian, but her mind was elsewhere. The sting of being inadvertently hurt by him sucked. He brought it up a couple of times, but she blew it off. It wasn't until he hadn't seen her at all before an episode of Monday Night RAW that he had to talk to her.

"There you are," Damian smiled upon seeing her. The show had a few hours before they aired.

"Here I am," she chuckled. Damian grabbed his fingers and linked them together.

"Let's have a chat. I feel like I haven't seen you all day," he urged. Before she could turn him down for a talk, he led her inside a locker room. It was away from everyone else to give them privacy. He locked the door behind him. "Talk to me. You have been distancing yourself and suddenly I have to look for you,"

"I'm just feeling a little jealous, I guess," Y/N sighed and sat on the bench. Damian took a step back. He didn't know where this was coming from.

"Why, mi amor? What happened?" He asked and took a seat next to her. He rubbed her back softly. She rolled her head around and took a deep breath.

"All the women that throw themselves at you now. They are so pretty, and I just miss when it was the two of us, D. Now I feel like I have to compete for your attention," she sighed and nibbled her bottom lip nervously.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "There is no other woman, Y/N. You were here from the beginning to the end. Trust me when I lose that title they will be gone. But you know who is still going to be here? Y/N,"

Tears welled in her eyes. She cleared her throat and blinked them away. All the doubts and questions seemed so silly now. Damian loved her and only her. She leaned in and kissed him.

"I want to be here, Damian, always," she promised. He pulled her closer to him. Their sweet kisses turned into something more. She straddled his lap. Their make-out session started to heat up. Damian shifted, so she lay on the bench.

He complimented her as he placed kisses against her face and neck. She sighed happily once she felt him reaching for her underwear underneath her skirt. He threw her underwear behind him and teased her clit. Y/N gasped and moaned in his mouth.

"Don't worry, I got you," he assured her. He ran his fingers between her folds before sliding them inside her entrance. "The only woman that can make me feel like this. I want to spend my life with you,"

Y/N moaned in agreement. She didn't remember life before him. When they met, they instantly connected. Nights on the road were spent together. Times when they were away were filled with phone calls and text messages.

He curled his fingers inside of her. She gasped and balled her fists to keep quiet. The roster would have a field day in knowing they got caught having sex. He smirked and slid his fingers out of her. The archer of infamy slid his pants and underwear down. He positioned himself at her entrance.

"Now you shy?" He teased and slid inside of her. She bit her lip and whined. Damian grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He was gentle, wanting to prove to this woman that she was his everything.

More compliments were lavished on her. All her doubts were now gone. He picked up his pace once they were getting closer.

"Come on, sweetheart. I'm here. I got you," he promised. With one more thrust, their bodies were joined in utter bliss. He waited until he was ready to pull out.

"That was perfect," she blushed.

"You are perfect,"

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #damian priest fanfiction #damian priest fanfic #damian priest x reader #damian priest x y/n

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unreleasedwrites · 2 months ago

Note

heyy im the anon in the prev ask! i want to request a fluff smut with Jake, like a quickie in the morning (with spooning position) to deal with his morning wood problem hehe 😉 thank you in advance 🩷

First Thing In The Morning

content: Spooning with your boyfriend on an empty weekend has its perks. One of which is how you get to be there when he’s pent up first thing in the morning.

contains: Jake Kim x fem!reader [ Lookism ]

cw: MDNI— implied smut, slight somnophilia at first, nicknames (baby), morning wood, some plot w fluff, reader consented!! slight ooc (depends on you haha), kissing, established relationship

— Saturday Night, Nov 30, 2024 • Sunday Evening, Dec 1 2024

You were fast asleep in your boyfriend’s arms, who was hugging you ever so tightly. You could feel his toned arms wrapped around your figure, holding on like a little boy.

You were in a relatively deep sleep as you were tired from the events that took place during the past few days.

To make matters worse, you were so busy that you couldn’t make time to hang out with your boyfriend— until now, that is. You knew that he was busy as well with big deal and so you chose not to bother him throughout the week— not that you could even do so…considering your packed schedule.

But nonetheless, you two were able to make time on this Saturday and that was all that mattered now. You guys met up and spent the day on a little date together and now you were wrapped in his arms. He had his arms wrapped around you from behind and had his face buried in the crook of your neck. It was such a peaceful moment, he could hear your shallow breathing and his steady breathing was also the last thing you heard before you drifted into a deep slumber, with not a single care for anything else in the world now that Jake has you in his arms again— not worrying about big deal or a certain someone just as he usually is.

So why did he wake up with a hard on? He couldn’t remember what he was dreaming about before he suddenly woke up but all that was occupying his mind was you. He was unbearably hard, which caused him this constant, intense pain and was probably why his body woke him up at 9 in the morning when he wanted to sleep in. His dick was stretching his boxers out so much, to the point that it was uncomfortable and tight in all the worst ways.

If you were awake at the moment, you definitely would have been able to feel the tent formed in his boxers, poking at your ass with such intrusion. But you weren’t awake so you were completely unaware of your boyfriend’s member poking you from behind, impatiently aching and desperate for some attention.

He groaned lowly, “shit. right now? seriously..?” He felt so desperate and yet helpless, he didn’t want to wake you but he seriously needed some help from his pretty little girlfriend who doesn’t know it yet, but will definitely be helping him out a whole lot.

He looked at your sleeping figure, so peaceful that it for some reason made his dick twitch. You were wearing his shirt along with some small, tight shorts that hugged your ass in the best way possible. And Jake absolutely loves your ass, to the extent that he takes any chance he gets to fondle with it. So your cute little outfit really wasn’t helping with his growing problem. He sighed to himself as he looked at your sleeping figure, you looked incredibly gorgeous and he kept his eyes locked on you. He then gently caressed your shoulder and stroked your soft skin with such genuine care. But he knew what he had to do, and so he decided he would do it.

He managed to slowly slip his boxers off his dick, leaving it exposed underneath the blanket you two were wrapped in. He slowly pulled your bottoms off and pushed your panties to the side, looking down at his mischievous act. He almost hated himself for doing this while you were asleep and unaware but with his aching member, he really wasn’t focused on that part as much.

He gently lined himself up at your entrance and didn’t have to lubricate you beforehand with how much his dick was leaking precum despite being untouched.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, so he was silently hoping you wouldn’t be mad at him.

He slowly pushed himself in, groaning as he felt the pain lift and the pleasure immediately began running through his body. He started pushing it in— centimeter by centimeter while still caressing your soft skin in hopes that you wouldn’t wake up. But you did, almost immediately too. You slightly groaned as you did so and your walls tightened at the sudden feeling of bring so full— earning a groan from Jake.

“Fuuuck…. don’t do that, baby” He suddenly whispered in your ear, you involuntarily clenched around his girth again from hearing his raspy morning voice right in your ear. His grasp on your shoulder tightened and he started to move in and out, trying to get any friction that he can while you were still trying to stir up what’s happening.

“Jake?? What’r you doing..?” You managed to utter out despite the constant distraction going on under the blanket.

“Couldn’t help m’self, baby.. needed this so bad,” He responded directly in your ear, earning the same goosebumps to form on your skin from the seemingly innocent gesture that somehow riled you up over and over again, “needed you so bad, please.” He added with his voice starting to get more labored and his breathing becoming more strenuous. He continued to push himself into your hole repeatedly, chasing his climax.

You were still a bit dazy but felt comfortable nonetheless with how he was spooning you while helping himself. You’ve been with Jake long enough to know that he is such a sweetheart in bed, all gentle and loving with you. And at this moment, he still was despite being desperate to solve his problem.

You decided to help him out by subtly grinding your ass on his cock which almost pushed him over the edge, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wanted to drag this for as long as he can because it just felt that good.

“Mmhh, Jake.. S’deep,” You whispered, earning another groan from him. You knew he was close with how his pace was increasing and his groans were getting louder.

“You feel so good, baby.. Hugging me so tight, so perfect and warm f’me…” He spoke into your ear, pulling yet another moan out of you. He trailed his hand down into your shirt and started fondling with your boobs. He buried his head even further into your neck, only to start kissing and sucking on your skin harshly yet sweetly.

His thrusts started to get sloppy and his dick started to twitch in your pussy, earning pointless babbling from you. He only shushed you in response, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to get you even more aroused—which definitely worked because you could feel yourself getting closer to your climax as well.

He continued to thrust his dick into you, sloppy yet harshly— producing slapping sounds from your guys’ skin hitting each other repeatedly. He moved his hand over to your ass and groped it hard. As he kept thrusting in and out of you, he fondled with your ass and sucked on your soft skin.

It was all too much and the room was filled with your moaning and babbling about your boyfriend, paired with his low groans that progressively got louder as the moment went on.

You were in absolute ecstasy with how much pleasure was given to you in such short time, and Jake was trying his best not to turn you over and fuck you roughly right then and there. He held his composure while pounding into you.

“Shi..t, shit. shit.. I-I’m close,” He spoke out, obviously struggling not to lose his mind right there, “can I cum inside, pre..tty please, please. please,” He immediately added, and boy was he was desperate. You frantically nodded and spoke, “m’cumming—!!”

“Then cum with me, pretty girl,” and you did. Almost immediately after he said that, too. He buried himself as deep as he could in your guys’ position and squeezed your ass tightly.

You were in absolute ecstasy while being filled up, both of your guys’ breathing was intense and all that you could understand at that moment was just how deep he was, you could practically feel his bulge on your stomach and the vibrations as his dick twitched and released in you was pure bliss. Your walls squeezed him ever so tightly as you came, causing him to feel even more euphoric.

“Sorry to wake you, baby..” Jake said once he was able to catch his breath. You replied, “it’s mkay baby, anything for you.”

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” He responded, stroking your hair.

You only giggled in response and he gave you a kiss on the cheek. He continued to stroke your hair ever so gently as both of your heartbeats slowed down, going back to its normal rate.

What a way to start the day, right?

notes: yes i disappeared for so long.. ive been busy and i really wasn’t in the mood to write at all, or even if i was i just didn’t have time.. so im very sorry for all the unanswered requests and pending works..

I’ve also decided to just make my layout simple with this one divider that I made and no more extras, since that’s a lot of unnecessary work for me hehe and its just been bothering me, if i could archive my works w/o deleting them, i would because id like a fresh start because there are works im not proud of but they have a bunch of notes so it doesn’t feel right to just delete 😓 (how to archive help)

anyways, thank you for the request and sorry for it taking so long!! I appreciate all interactions with my works and as per usual, please don’t copy or steal my work in any way <3

#lookism #lookism fandom #lookism imagines #unreleasedwrites #Jake Kim #jake kim lookism #lookism jake kim #kim gimyung #kim gimyung lookism #lookism kim gimyung #lookism smut #lookism fluff #smut #fluff #lookism jake

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ghostwise · 2 months ago

Note

oooh 51 for the touch prompts :)c

51. caressing the other’s cheek, 1k tags: rook x harding, male laidir, act 2 spoilers

Acute lyrium toxicity, reads the header across Emmrich’s handwritten notes. It is not something he is often called upon to treat, so he’s spent the past couple of evenings brushing up on the subject.

He’s read about lyrium’s use in dwarven runecraft, its application in the Circle of Magi as well as the Templar order, and, most intriguing to him, its susceptibility to Blight. He has even reviewed first-hand reports of red lyrium from the Inquisition, courtesy of their very own Inquisition scout, whose interest in the subject has become an all-consuming drive as of late. And for good reason, following her encounter with the Titan’s shadow.

Emmrich has read enough to feel reassured. By all accounts, Rook received a lyrium dosage several times greater than that given to a mage during their Harrowing, and yet, he is still breathing. Whatever Harding did to him down there worked. Usually non-lethal, once the substance is cleared from the blood, so say the texts.

But for Lace Harding, such words hold little weight. She won’t rest until she sees Rook open his eyes.

So Emmrich waits with her. He brings her another cup of tea and Manfred hovers close by, sugar tongs in hand.

“Thank you,” Harding whispers. She smiles weakly as Manfred sweetens her tea. One cube, two cubes, three. Four.

“That’s quite enough, Manfred,” Emmrich murmurs.

“It’s alright. I need all the sweetness I can get,” Harding says, and, for Manfred’s sake, sips at the sugary tea.

The skeleton utters a pleased, gurgling hiss before returning to Laidir’s side, sitting opposite Harding.

“You know, Harding,” Emmrich says carefully, “You should rest. His condition is stable. And I dare say, Manfred has been as constant a caregiver as you and I have.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Harding says evenly. “I’m fine.”

“Lace-” Emmrich sighs.

“Really, Emmrich.” She looks up at him, a puffy and dark quality to the skin under her eyes. “I’m fine. You forget, I’ve spent the last decade… dealing with crisis. Finding solutions.” She shifts and sets her teacup upon the bedside table. “With the Inquisition, I set up new outposts and explored places I’d never dreamed of seeing. Since then, I’ve traveled everywhere—tracking Solas, fighting Venatori, slavers, mercenaries—so, sitting here beside him? It’s easy, Emmrich. Too easy, maybe. This isn’t a problem I can aim an arrow at. It’s…”

Emmrich watches her lapse into silence. She’d done a good job putting things into words, up until she hit a feeling she couldn’t name. He’s a romantic himself; he’s well aware of the tangled paths hearts can take.

“When you first became aware of this… complication, between your emotions and your new-found abilities,” he says slowly, “You mentioned feeling somewhat responsible. And I told you-”

“To be patient,” Harding completes.

On the bed, Lirio lets out a raspy breath. She looks at him for a moment, waiting for his breathing to relax again, before continuing.

“I appreciated that, you know. It was good advice. Everyone else kept saying, don’t worry. But why wouldn’t I worry? I had no clue what was happening to me, and I worse, I was hurting someone I cared about. Or they’d say, it’s not your fault. But it wasn’t about it being my fault, it was about…”

Another pause. Emmrich let his mind wander for a moment, down a hypothetical path: if he had changed, unexpectedly, completely, in such a way that he inadvertently hurt those dearest to him, what would he think?

“It was about understanding yourself,” he guesses. “Making peace with the power.”

“Yeah,” Lace nods. “Yeah, I never felt it was my fault. But I knew it was my responsibility to figure it out. Maybe I never would. And would he be okay with that? Would I?” She glances away, recalling the conversation. “He said he would. I’m inclined to believe him.”

“And now?” Emmrich prompts.

“Now…” Lace shakes her head at the wonder that is her life. “I didn’t ask for this gift, but I have it anyway. The pain the Titans experienced eons upon eons ago… to me, it feels like it happened just yesterday. That’s not my fault. That’s not anyone’s fault. I don’t think it’s something the Titan did to me purposefully, anyway.”

She hesitates, gathering her next words. She still finds it challenging to explain some pieces of what she experienced, but she tries anyway, knowing Emmrich will try to understand.

“Their sense of time is different… a continent could take a lifetime to form, mountains and forests blinking in and out of view. They don’t exist, quick and isolated from others, like we do. And I’m not sure if Titans feel love like we feel love. But they feel connection, through the lyrium. And without connection, there’s just… nothing. The most horrible nothing. A complete inversion of the connection they need to survive.”

“Isatunoll,” Emmrich says with a smile.

“Isatunoll,” Harding echoes softly. “I’m not a Titan. I have to feel like a person feels. Lirio helped me see that.”

“Ah, yes. By exposing himself to the Titan’s lyrium fully!”

Harding glances up at him. Suddenly, she laughs; the clearest sound of laughter he’s heard from her in days.

“You are looking at me with the biggest, cheesiest smile, Emmrich,” she says. “You’re all… mushy and sappy…”

“It’s terribly romantic, Harding,” Emmrich sighs. “I’m happy for you. That’s all.”

“Um. Thank you.” She giggles. “Really, thank you. For all your help. I’m happy too. Or, I will be. Just as soon as I can speak to him. As soon as I know I can…”

Across the bed, Manfred clatters his ribs. A shiver of bones lends way to a happy hiss. Emmrich and Lace look up, conversation forgotten, as Lirio stirs; all stiff muscles and post-lyrium aches.

Lirio cracks open his eyes and blinks as the world around him comes into focus, slowly. All he can see is a bloom of red, the exact shade of which immediately thrills him. “Lace,” he murmurs, though he can’t quite see her yet.

“Lirio,” she breathes. “I’m here.”

She reaches a trembling hand to cup his cheek. She watches for that characteristic blue glow, but it doesn’t come. Then Rook reaches up to cover her hand with his own, leaning into the touch as naturally as rain falls on the windward side of a mountain.

“I’ll fetch more tea,” Emmrich says hurriedly. He pulls Manfred along, away from the two.

As he goes, he thinks to himself again, isatunoll. And wonders whether mountains and people have more in common than Harding had guessed.

#thank youuu <3 this is quite rambly but i wanted to fluff up that act 2 scene bc it wrapped up far too quickly for my liking #rinnywrites #dragon age #datv #lace harding #rook x harding #laidir #oc: lirio laidir

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comet-forgot-you · 1 year ago

Note

What about River comforting R? Like R’s super ‘tough and reserved’ and all ‘idgaf’, but just breaks when River’s around.

me fr

breathe

river x reader

summary: river comforts you after a very unexpected anxiety attack.

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack i think thats all

a/n: this is my first time writing something that isnt smut. kinda nervous lol. i had to look up hurt/comfort prompts before settling on this one. do not repost for any reason.

the room felt like it was getting smaller and smaller, a pool of worry gathering in the pit of your stomach. your eyes darted around the booth, hyperaware of every single surrounding. the sound of the person breathing next to you, the sound of the fan rattling in the corner, the words of river’s friends talking getting jumbled together. it was like every sound was heightened.

it was sudden, you didnt know where the sudden wave of pure anxiety had come from. had something happened to someone? your body goes rigid, you glance around the booth again, hoping no one had noticed the slight shift in your demeanor. your eyes find river’s her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you with worried eyes. you tear your gaze from hers, the feeling of tears prickling in your eyes, threatening to escape was not something you were interested in at the moment. you didn’t want to cry surrounded by people you barely knew. your breath caught in your throat, hands shaking in your lap.

you wanted, needed to leave. you couldn’t stand being in the crowded booth any longer, couldnt stand that constant chatter and scraping of metal forks against plates. it was all too much, the people, the noise, too much. you elbow the guy sitting beside you, the one that had you squashed between him and the girl beside you. your breath came out in a heavy exhale.

“what the fuck?” he winces, cradling his ribs in his hand.

“move, i need to get out.” your voice sounds normal to everyone else, but you could hear the shakiness of it, and you knew river could hear it, too. he stares at you like you’re crazy, but your lungs itch to fill with air that the crowded booth doesn’t seem to be providing. “fucking move!” you don’t mean to yell, every eye in the restaurant landing on you. you could feel it, but you feel like the room is closing in on you, it felt loke the weight of the world was loading itself onto you shoulders. he quickly moves out of the booth and scurry up after, eyes darting to river before fumbling for your wallet stuffed in your pocket.

“are you okay?” it’s the girl sitting next to river that asks. you glance up at her, you fear that if you say something, you’ll break down. but you try anyways.

“yeah, i just..” you’re fumbling over your words. “i forgot about this meeting.” you throw enough cash on the table to handle the two of yours’ meal and rush out of the packed restaurant.

the cool winter air fills your lungs, but it still doesn’t feel like its enough. your hands shake at your sides and you curl them in a ball. your eyes dart around the street before taking off for the parking garage you had parked almost an hour ago in. you make it into the dark, concrete structure when a hand tugs your own.

“hey, what’s wrong?” river. she sounds almost breathless, almost as if she bad been running after you. you turn to face her and you can’t hold the tears back anymore, they fall freely from your eyes. you’re hyperventilating, gripping the hand that holds your own.

“i- i don’t know,” your breathing is ragged, “i couldn’t help it, i’m sorry,” you barely process the words tumbling messily out of your lips. river pulls you into her arms, your head resting in the crook of her neck.

“hey, its okay. you’re okay, i have you.” her hands soothe your hair, an action she knew brought you some sense of comfort. your hands wrap around her waist, hold onto them in an attempt to keep your hands from shaking. “breathe, baby. i know its hard right now, but you need to.” she takes a deep breath in, and you follow her lead, allowing your breathing to regulate. “lets go to the car, yeah? you think you can walk to the car?” you nod against her neck, pulling back. she takes your hand into hers, squeezing it.

the two of you climb into the back seat of the car, your tears having come down with the walk. your hands still shook in river’s hold, she presses kisses to your face, wiping away at the tears that flowed down your face. “m’ sorry, riv. i don’t know why i broke down like that,” you felt so guilty ripping her from her time with her friends. it was a lunch she had been talking about for weeks, talking about how excited for it she was, how much she missed her friends and couldn’t wait to introduce you to them, the thought of letting her down caused a stream of tears to slide down your face. “m’ sorry, river,” the pace of your breathing picks up, borderline hyperventilating. “i didn’t mean to mess it up,” your voice is hoarse.

river cradles your face in her hand. “you didn’t do anything wrong. its okay, i understand, and i’ll make sure they understand. what matters is that you’re okay. you couldn’t help it, and that’s okay. i want you to be okay, we can always reschedule.” her words are soft, they lift the weight that previously sat on your shoulders right off. you wrap your arms around her shoulders, hugging her closer to you.

a/n: im sorry if this is terrible and absolutely not what was wanted, i rarely ever read hurt/comfort and i have the memory of a child at a family gathering that completely forgets you after like 3 days even though they said you were best friends.

#mikey madison x reader #mikey madison #all souls #all souls movie #river all souls #river x reader #not smut for once #my first time writing smth like to is

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alaydabug2 · 9 months ago

Text

I feel like being angsty

This is while Keefe is in the Forbidden Cities

Enjoy ☺️

It was getting late in the chilly evening. The sun was slowly dipping over the horizon. If Keefe wasn't about to do what he was thinking of, he would've reveled in its beauty.

He took a deep breath and swung one leg over the railing. Then the other. He balanced on the small ledge.

He had to do this. There was no debating it. It wasn't safe -for him or others- to be around anymore. The longer he was breathing, the longer his mom was able to manipulate him and use him for awful, horrendous things.

Keefe already knew he was never going back to the Lost Cities. He would never see his friends again. It didn't matter if he did this or not. He. Wouldn't. Go. Back.

Tears pricked his eyes as he stared down at the water below. It was a long fall. His heart picked up pace

He'd heard before that falling on water was the equivalent of falling on concrete. He just hoped that it would take him out quickly, and he wouldn't have to suffer through too much of the pain.

But...it'd be worth it. That short amount of time, to never have to feel it again. It strengthened his resolve.

Everything hurt enough as it was. The human emotions cut straight to his gut. The choked back words burned his throat. His head pounded from the constant stress it all caused. His skin ached from his emotions slowly going numb, leaving behind almost a hum from its lack of presence. His heart squeezed against his ribs from knowing how many times he'd hurt his friends before.

He was making sure it never happened again.

Keefe Sencen had officially hit rock bottom. And no matter how hard and long he tried, he didn't have the strength or energy to climb back up. It was too steep.

He'd been fighting for so long. His entire life. At least soon, he would be able to rest.

A few more deep breaths to calm his nerves. Just when he planted his feet for the jump, a panicked voice spoke out behind him.

"What are you doing?"

Keefe turned his head to be face to face with a woman who was likely to be in her late twenties. His eyes widened.

Her face was pale and terror filled her eyes. The man beside her, who Keefe assumed was her husband, had a similar appearance.

"Oh, ummm." How was he supposed to get himself out of this one? He could always just jump off and not have to worry about it, but that would probably traumatize the poor couple. Plus...for some odd reason, he felt compelled to stay on the bridge for a little longer. "I'm just... looking out at the view. The water looks nice this evening. Doesn't it?"

The man nodded. "It does, but...that doesn't seem very safe."

Keefe shrugged. "It'll be fine." He threw in a nervous laugh. "I've always wanted to cross high diving off my bucket list anyhow." He was trying to be convincing, but he couldn't quite meet their eyes.

The woman didn't seem to be buying it. She whispered, "You don't have to do this, you know?" She placed a hand on one of his wrists. Probably to make sure he couldn't try to jump off as easily. "It's not going to be like this forever."

Keefe didn't know why he was saying this, but the next thing that came out of his mouth was, "It's been like this my entire life."

The woman's heartache sliced straight to his core with the contact. He could feel her husband’s in the background as well. It was making his head bleary.

"What's your name?" The man asked him.

"I'm Keefe," he murmured.

"Keefe," the man repeated. "I'm Maverick, that's my wife, Ruby." He seemed to hesitate a moment before asking, "How... How old are you?"

His voice was almost inaudible, "Sixteen."

Both of the couple's eyes teared up. Keefe didn't dare to face them. He squeezed his eyes shut. There was a slight pressure of a hand on his shoulder. He willed himself not to cry.

"Why would you want to do something like this? You have your entire life ahead of you. Why cut it so short?" Ruby whispered.

Keefe shook his head and laughed darkly. "You have zero idea on how messed up my life's been from the start. It's just not worth saving anymore, and I'd rather it be on my own terms than someone making the decision for me. You wouldn't understand. No one does."

"Well," Maverick said, "help us understand." When Keefe didn't say anything, he continued. "We don't have anywhere to be. We're able to listen."

Keefe couldn't help shedding a few tears as he explained, "My parents are pieces of absolute garbage. They don't care about me. My mom has made me do awful, awful things that I don't even remember doing. I've pushed my friends away so many times that they all probably hate me by now. I keep, quite litterly, running away from all of my problems. I keep putting my friends in danger. Everything just keeps spiraling into a dark pit of doom, and," his voice cracked, "I just can't deal with it anymore. It's too much for me to handle."

The hand from his shoulder moved to run up and down his back in slow, soothing movements. Ruby spoke, "What has your mom made you do? And why would your friends be in danger?" When he didn't say, she added, "It might make you feel better to get it off your chest."

It was clear they weren't going to be leaving anytime soon, so he gave in. "My mom is part of..." He trailed off. How was he supposed to explain this without them thinking he was crazy. "My mom is apart of...a cult like gang. And she wants me to join, saying that the whole reason I was born is to take her place. And...one night she...gave me some sort of drug so I wouldn't remember what happened. And had me go out in the street to distract this man and his daughter. And..." he hung his head. "They got hit by a bus and died. I learned about this a couple of days ago, and it's been eating me up since. And with my friends, they keep getting hurt from my mom. And I'm not able to stop her. So I ran away and skipped town. I don't plan on ever going back. It's better for them this way. Better for me."

"I'm sure your friends are worried about you, though," Maverick murmured. You don't want them to try and find you, then have to figure out you jumped off a bridge."

Keefe shrugged. "This is the second time I've run away. I'm not counting on them waiting up for me. I've caused them so much trouble. They'll be glad to get rid of."

"What about your dad? I know your mom is bad, but what about him?"

He snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure he's up looking all over the planet for me as we speak. Worried sick. It's not like I'm his only child or anything." The raw truth of that stung. He blinked the tears away from his eyes. He wasn't going to break down in front of them. He just wasn't. He'd at least like to keep a little dignity he had left.

"What about your future?" Ruby's voice was soft. "Don't you want to find love? Get married. Have kids of your own."

The girl he'd been trying very hard not to think about since stepping onto the bridge flashed through his mind. Her blond hair and beautiful brown eyes hurt to think about.

"I've already found it." WHY was he admitting this? "But...she likes my best friend. I don't want to interfere with that. She deserves to be happy, and I'm no good for her. I've hurt her so many times. And as long as my mom is around, I'd never have kids. That's just another person I care about she can hurt. I don't want to become like her or my dad anyhow."

"You have a lot to deal with for a sixteen year old," she noted. "But... there are still reasons to keep going."

"Like what?"

Ruby shared a look with her husband, probably struggling with trying to figure out what to say. Finally, Maverick pointed to the sky. "That's a beautiful sunset, isn't it?" The sun was sinking below the water. It filled the sky with vibrant yellows and pinks and reds. Keefe nodded. "Would you be sad if you were never able to see it again?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. Just... focus on going long enough each day to see the sun set. Then, the day is over. You can try again in the morning, clean slate."

Both Ruby and Maverick waited for him to process it. Finally, something inside him clicked, putting him back into a clearer head space as a gust of wind chilled his body.

"What am I doing?" Keefe muttered. He'd gotten so far. Survived for that long. He couldn't just give up.

He looked around frantically, trying to find a way back off the ledge. Tears pooled in his eyes, blurring his vision. His breath quickened.

"Easy," Ruby whispered. "We'll help you up."

Ruby pulled him up as Maverick made sure he didn't topple backward as he stepped over the rail. He collapsed in their arms, clinging as tight as he could. He shook from the adrenaline and the wind that he had just realized was biting at his skin. He couldn't hold back his tears anymore, and the floodgates broke free.

Neither of them seemed to mind. They held onto him just as tight. Their relief poured off of them in waves. He was pretty sure they were crying, too.

A warm hand squeezed his shoulder. Another one rubbed his back. A third cupped the back of his neck, holding him close to a body. Whose, he wasn't sure. Was this how caring parents were supposed to feel?

After being able to collect himself, they rushed to get him away from the railing and off the bridge. Maverick took off his jacket and placed it over Keefe's shoulders. It blocked some of the bitter wind from reaching his body.

They brought him inside a small, warm café and sat him down at a table. Ruby placed a cup in front of him. Something she called 'hot cocoa'.

He took a sip. It was warm and had mini marshmallows floating in it. It reminded him almost of cinnamcreme, except instead of cinnamon, it was chocolate. It warmed him up from the inside out.

They continued to sit and talk with him until the cafe closed. Even when it did, the owners didn't try to kick them out. They must've known it was important.

He'd seen some awful things from humans, but...they weren't all bad. Humans were still people, too. They had feelings and compassion. And two of them had just saved his life

For some reason, the council couldn't see that. It wasn't even the humans' fault they were separated from the lost cities!

If, by some miracle, he made it back home, he'd have to find a way to explain that to the council

Until then, he took another sip of his hot chocolate and explained the best he could about his mom without giving away the elves. Oddly enough, talking about his problems did actually make him feel a tad better. He'd have to figure out a way to use that to his advantage.

#keeper of the lost cities #kotlc #kotlc keefe sencen #tw #suicidal thoughts #my baby 😭#fanfic #btw #the part about hom killing those humans #is part of my theory for unraveled

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analogwriting · 24 days ago

Text

The Other Side of Paradise

Chapter 14: [Premade Sandwiches]

Killer x gn!reader word count: 2k a/n: another 241!! i coulda made it all one fat chapter but i feel like it's better and easier to read when its split between 2-3k word count tags: @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth, @h0n3y-l3m0n05 first|next

Once you were home, the planning began. As if the stars aligned, everyone was able to meet up once more before you were set to leave. It was a miracle that could happen in general, especially on short notice.

The three quit their jobs, fully committed to this now. Even if the revenge didn’t go as planned or if you ran out of steam and didn’t go through with it, all four of you were genuinely enjoying what you were doing. Maybe one day you’d remove the masks and just enjoy the vibe of being yourselves, but you also liked to be able to be whatever you wanted outside of the light. Not being in the constant light or being worried about being recognized was kind of nice.

You also paid the fee for terminating the rental contract early. The contract wasn’t up for another six months and you didn’t have the time to wait around that long. So, you bit the bullet and paid for the rest of the month and whatever the penalty was. You weren’t worried about money, but it was just an annoying thing and you just hated landlords. It was a lot less hassle than selling a house though, so at least there was that.

Over the next week and a half, the four of you worked on cleaning up the house and packing it up. You weren’t sure what the size of this penthouse would be, so you settled on putting most stuff in a storage unit and only packing up the essentials for now. You figured you could bring the rest up later once you saw what you were working with living-wise.

You still had the party with all your friends to celebrate everything, so there were blow up mattresses and bean bags all over the place, but most things were gone and moved out. You were out in the backyard, working the grill. You did get better at cooking ever since Killer left. When you moved in with everyone, you wanted to give back somehow, so you decided to do that through their stomachs.

You weren’t great with words, so you figured cooking something would be just as fine. That it would say enough.

Though, the last time you were all together…You looked around the backyard as the memories flooded back - might be a different backyard, but the same reasons and vibe. Many different memories flashed in your mind. You looked to a large tree, reminiscent of the one you and Killer climbed in your youth. The two of you just climbed the tallest one you could find, watching the world from high up in the trees. It had been a calming and relaxing time. Serene. You wished it had lasted forever.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Suddenly, you were ripped out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Hop standing not far from you, her hands on her hips. “Huh?” You blinked.

“I know what you’re thinking and don’t you fucking do that. They are not fucking worth it. He is not fucking worth it, hear me?” She frowned, shaking her head.

It seemed no matter how much time has passed, he always found a way to creep into your mind. Well, it didn’t help that your whole livelihood right now was dedicated to sticking it to him somehow, which you hadn’t quite figured out how to do yet, but you feel like he still would even if you weren’t on this vendetta.

He was just such a large part of your life for so long - it was hard to always be pissed and angry. Sometimes you were sad and yearned for old times.

“You’re right. The glass is long gone broken.” You shake your head, taking a deep breath. “I should just focus on the here and now. Enjoy the last night with our friends.”

She nodded. “Besides, once we get settled out there, I think we should have another party, inviting everyone. I’m sure everyone is going to have the same concerns that you do…” Understandably so.

You frowned, nodding. There was going to be a weird air. It wasn’t being all together and what happened the last time you were all together. Rather, it was why you were together. The last time one of you hit it big and went to the city, they ditched everyone. “They” being the boys. You four were determined to make sure that never happened. You didn’t plan on dropping your friends.

“I’m sure everyone is going to be worried it’ll end up the same. I think having everyone out there after we get settled will definitely help sooth the minds of everyone.” You moved some of the burgers and hot dogs to the plate before loading up the grill again.

“We should make everyone key copies. Just like this house. I feel like that’ll also help. They know they can drop in at any time. There won’t even be a chance of us ghosting, but I think it’ll put everyone at ease.” Hop nodded, putting her hair up in a ponytail - she had just gotten out of the shower.

“Hop! Where is the aux cord!” Bubblegum’s voice rang from the house.

“You had it last!” She rolled her eyes.

“I did not! You did! Or I wouldn’t be hollering at you!” He appeared in the doorway of the porch with a disgruntled look on his face.

Hop rolled her eyes before pausing. “Oh yeah. I did. It should be in the garage next to the fridge.”

Bubblegum stared at her for a moment. “Wh-” He shook his head. “You know what? I don’t even care.” Then he turned and headed back inside.

“He’s so dramatic.” Hop turned to look at you with a roll of her eyes. “Well, everyone should be arriving soon. I gotta pick up some people from the airport. Need anything before I head out?”

You shook your head. “Nah, should be fine. Drive safe.”

“Hey, y’all!” You looked over, seeing Quincey walking out of the back. A large smile spread across your face. “Hey, Quinn! Glad you could make it!” You walked over to her as Hop waved at her when she headed out.

“What have you been up to these days? The usual?” Quincey hugged you tightly and smiled at you as she pulled away.

You snorted, nodding. “Oh you know. Just playing peek-a-boo with the devil these days and whatnot.” She chuckled and the two of you fell into conversation as you tended to the grill once more.

It wasn’t long before everyone started showing up. It’d been quite a long time since everyone was all together, so there was a lot of shouting, tears, and hot gossip. There were also a lot of congratulations for your band’s success. Everyone was over the moon for you. They didn’t know the news yet, but you were doing well even before, so it was just about that.

You couldn’t wait to tell them all. These were the most important people of your life. You loved sharing every part of this journey with them, especially considering how much they had all done for you. Whether it was pitching in with helping with the band somehow or just giving words of support and encouragement, you were thankful for each and every one of them.

Eventually, everyone arrived. You looked around as you did a silent headcount in the backyard. Everyone was out conversing and snacking on the various things you had made for everyone. It always made your heart so full to see all your friends together. There was a tinge of sadness as that moment of yearning for old times came back but you pushed it away.

You walked over to the speakers, pausing the music. Heads turned in your direction, immediately falling silent. You snorted at the sudden dead air. “Hey, everyone!” You waved as Hop, Bubblegum, and Dive joined you.

“I’m sure you can probably guess why we gathered you here today.” You smiled and a few people shrugged and nodded while others looked absolutely clueless.

“I’ll fill in the blanks but…” You smiled widely. “After a long time, we’ve finally done it! We’ve caught the attention of Donquixote Entertainment!” Silence still overtook your friends as they processed before the cheering and screams began. You heard glasses clink as people cheered and took shots or downed their drinks.

It took a moment, but everyone settled down so you could continue speaking.

“That being said, we’re going to have to leave.” You frowned and saw it mirrored in the crowd but murmurs of no surprise and a bit of expecting all of this. “We’re going to the city. They said they have a penthouse that they’re going to set up for us and we’ll sign the contract and look over things when we get there.” You paused for a moment, letting people catch up.

“However, we do plan on having a big party once we get settled in.” Cheers rang through again. “I know-” You paused as they settled back down. “I know there’s probably some uneasiness.” A somber tone shifted into the air as the elephant in the room was addressed. “After all, the last time some of us got big…look what happened. But if you think about it, they’re not the only ones who made it big.” You looked through your friend group, people furrowing their eyebrows, wondering where you were going with this.

“Quincey, you’re a big fashion designer. And you’ve still kept in contact with us. You didn’t drop us.” She blinked as the attention was turned on her and you watched as her face turned a bright red. “W-Well, I can’t just leave my friends behind…” She fidgeted. “You guys have always been there…”

“And UK.” The attention shifted to him and he blinked in surprise. “You just produced your own film and it won several awards. And you started working on another film with several A-list celebrities because of it. You’re still here and make time for us.” You watched as his face also turned a deep shade of red. “L-Like Quincey said, I can’t leave y’all behind. You’ve been there since the start.”

You nodded before scanning the crowd for a moment. “And Jaguar.” The large man jumped as the attention was shifted to him. “You just won the national championship for bodybuilding. You’ve been on tour doing various interviews and still make time for us.” Jaguar’s face and entire body turned a deep shade of red. He didn’t say anything, just nodded.

“What I’m saying is, fame won’t change us. I promise. Plenty of us have gotten famous and very well known and still keep in contact. Those four were anomalies and we’ll get to the bottom of it, but we’re going to keep talking to you guys because you’re our family. We wouldn’t be where we are without you.” You sighed, feeling exhausted from all the talking. “We’re not going to ditch you just because we’re signed with a big label company. I mean, we’re decently known now and we’re still here. And we’re going to continue to be here. No matter where we are.”

The slight tension in the air that had been there all night dissipated for the most part. Everyone knew you were right. Despite those four, there were some of you that did become famous and didn’t just ghost everyone. You weren’t going to do that either and you would make sure of that.

“On a collision course to hell we march!”

You started up the music again, people cheered, beers were chugged, shots were thrown back as everyone started up celebrating again.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #am fics #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #killer

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hmshermitcraft · 3 months ago

Note

pearldaph anon here with somethint other than pearldaph for once 😝

weekly theme submission : magic

this is goldenmoon / jimpearltyn btw (jimmy x pearl x martyn ) 🕊️🌙🌲 ~ 💛💙💚

UMMM TW FOR PARANOIA, FEELING OF BEING WATCHED, AND VAGUELY GOREY THOUGHTS !! 🦎

so martyn's never been one to believe in magic. all those folklore tales, stories of wizards and fairies and mermaids and bla bla bla. he really didnt bother with it. he much rather worry about his next rent payment than some magical hobo cursing him and his generations.

that all changed one night.

see, he's not a very anxious person. not very paranoid. he's got a degree of somewhat (read:debatable) reasonable thinking that tends to cancel out any fear or anxiety that might spark. however, that reasonable thinking doesn't account for the constant feeling of being watched by something. what that something is constantly evades him, however. as soon as he makes any sign of noticing, a suspicious look on his face, a glance around, the feeling and all with it disappears.

it got to the point where that feeling was driving him insane. it felt like something crawling in his skin, making him wish he could just tear it all off. it simmered, pumped through his veins like blood. he could almost taste the dry bile he could feel rising whenever he went outside.

it didnt help that nearly no one believed him, excluding his sweetheart of a roommate jimmy. he was so concerned when he told him, paying extra attention to him martyn swore that sometimes he could see golden wings on jimmys back whenever he came home or felt uneasy.

everything changed, however, when he saw the wolf. on his front doorstep.

for some reason, despite every hair and inch of skin that screamed run run run he stayed there. stayed watching it. the wolf was eerily pale, its fur coat a unnatural-but-beautiful shade of marble white. it seemed to almost glow under the shine of the full moon wasnt the moon only in waxing gibbous yesterday, it drew him in. it felt almost familiar.

as he stepped closer, the wolf ran to the forest. now, a smart, rational person like martyn would normally absolutely not follow this random wolf into the forest. however, at the state he was in, all rationality was thrown away. so he followed the wolf, chasing it as fast as his wobbly legs could carry. as he ran, he could hear wolves howling in the distance, his blood pumping faster with every note they sung.

at some point, the wolf stopped. so did martyn. his vision was fading out. his breath was harsh, heaving, his body screaming with soreness and aches from extertion, and he was pretty certain he'd sprained a foot or too. falling to the ground, he looked up his chest heaving his vision spotty and-

...and...

...oh.

oh.

[ - even now, martyn would be hard struck trying to recall what he'd saw. the memories were blurry and the night air was cold and harsh, and he might've been just a bit parched and maybe had some adrenaline still in his system, but he knows for sure, surer than he'd even been, that that night was the night he fell in love. - ]

she must have been a angel. a god, even.

her appearance, unassuming, meager, maybe one would even say plain, looked just that of a regular human woman. he couldnt be fooled, though. not with those eyes. oh gods, her eyes.

they reminded him of the night sky. of the cosmos. so much bigger. so much... greater. so... much…

brighter?¿ ..?

he was pretty sure he almost passed out. twice maybe. pushing on three times. nonetheless, he snapped out of that daze relatively fast, ignoring his head pounding he greeted the woman half heartedly, pointedly avoiding her eyes. she was smiling. she seemed rather amused at the mess of a display (read:martyn) and how chaotic his entrance was. she greeted him back and oh. she was going to be the death of him.

the woman's name seemed indecipherable, with how it was pronounced. it seemed impossible to speak via human tongue (because let's be honest, do we REALLY believe this lady is human?) and she seemed terribly aware of that fact. instead, she left that up to martyn. the man in question, very determined to not die, and maybe make the pretty lady happy came up with 'pearl.’

"like your eyes!" he'd said. "they're- er, really bright. real shimmery? kinda glowy. like a pearl, you know?"

not the best name he could've chosen, but hey. the lady liked it, so ha! nailed the first impression.

hopefully jimmy wouldnt mind the new guest?

[ - he did in fact not mind. in fact, as soon as martyn turned up to their front door with the woman, jimmy wrenching it it open with enough force to make him jump, he'd interrogated martyn immediately on where he'd been all night. though as soon as he saw pearl, all his fight left, a spark of something he couldn't quite decipher lighting up his expression. pearl’s grin widened. martyn had no idea what was going on. jimmy glanced back between the two, seemingly debating something, before turning to pearl and saying "does this mean I don’t have to bind my wings anymore?" - ]

anon notes - this turned out WAY longer than i meant for it to. woops.

um anyway hope this feeds the starving pearltyn solidarpearl and solidarwood fans ehe. sorry the jimmy content was actually very minimal maybe i should’ve put his as implied instead. oops

signing off,

~ 🌙🌾 (i get an emoji now right? right?!?)

Pearl politely doesn't mention how Martyn passed out part way home and she had to carry him until he woke again. That'll make perfect blackmail in the future (as if his introduction wasn't enough.) Because she will be staying. They can't get rid of her now.

Martyn also passes out again before he's able to properly process Jimmy's comment. Jimmy's kind of relieved - he knows Martyn's been struggling lately. Pearl carries him to bed, and Jimmy brushes through his hair.

He already looks softer. Like a weight has been taken from his shoulders. Maybe Pearl is the charm they need to keep whatever's been watching Martyn away...

#trafficshipping #ask #jimmy tag #martyn tag #pearl tag #jimpearltyn #mod 🎀#🌙🌾 anon #weekly theme: magic

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moons-and-mobility-aids · 1 month ago

Text

To Walk In Part 2

Pairings: Remus Lupin x disabled!reader (Part of my poly!marauders x disabled!reader universe) Summary: You and Remus talk about the night before. Warnings: Mentions of catheters, self-worth issues Series Masterlist | Part 1

Your eyes flutter open to a new day, the weight of last night's revelation pressing down on you like a lead blanket. It's difficult to think of anything else but the dread that sits heavy in your stomach, churning with every thought of what Remus might be thinking now.

You remain still in bed, the soft pillow beneath your head offering little comfort for the turmoil within. Remus is there, propped up against the headboard with a book in his hands. The morning light filters through the window, casting an ethereal glow upon him and accentuating the worry lines etched around his eyes. His presence should soothe you, yet it only serves to remind you of your vulnerability.

The memory of the catheter from last night is still fresh, too fresh, and you can't help but shift under the sheets, causing Remus to look up.

"Love, you're awake," he says softly, closing his book and setting it aside. His voice is gentle, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of your situation, and for a moment, you want nothing more than to lose yourself in its warmth. But your anxiety refuses to be quelled, and you attempt a small smile, though it wavers at the edges.

“Mmm,” you hum in response, a noncommittal sound that does little to mask your unease. You draw the blanket up higher, a thin shield from the weight of his scrutiny. It's not that you don't trust him—it's just that right now, you can't trust yourself.

He doesn't miss the small gesture, the way you retreat further into the cocoon of fabric. His brow furrows slightly, concern etching lines onto his usually smooth forehead. He has always been perceptive, able to read between the lines of your carefully composed facade. It's one of the reasons you've always felt safe with him, why his presence has been a constant source of reassurance. But today, even his steadying influence can't quell the storm raging inside you.

"Would you like to speak about what happened last night?" His voice is so soft, a low murmur that barely disturbs the silence of the room. He's cautious, careful not to push too hard, but the question hangs heavy in the air between you, reminding you of the reality you're trying to keep at bay.

Your heart stutters in your chest, skipping a beat, and for a moment, you can't breathe. You don't want to talk about it—not because you don't trust him, but because speaking it aloud feels like an admission. An admission that things are different now, that *you* are different. And you're terrified of what will happen if you give voice to the fear that's been gnawing at your insides.

"I..." Your voice is barely audible, a whisper lost among the rustling sheets. "I don’t want you to see me...differently." The confession hangs heavy in the air, a secret shared in the quiet of the dawning day.

His frown deepens, his gaze never leaving yours as he leans closer. There’s a tension in the way he moves, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment. "What do you mean?"

You sigh, the sound aching with the weight of unspoken fears and frustration. "It's just... everything." Your hands move in vague gestures, encompassing the catheter, the wheelchair, everything. "I don't want you to think I'm not—" The words are there on the tip of your tongue, but they're too raw, too real to release into the world.

"That I'm not... attractive anymore," you finally whisper.

Saying it aloud feels like admitting defeat, and you instantly regret it. You turn your head away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, suddenly aware of how absurd your concerns must seem when stacked against the reality of your condition. How can you think about attraction when your body is a battlefield, when even the simplest tasks leave you breathless and weak?

Remus blinks, his brow furrowing as he tries to decipher the tangle of emotions behind your words. He doesn't laugh or dismiss your fears as trivial; instead, his hand reaches out, fingertips brushing gently against your cheek. It's a silent plea for you to look at him, to let him see you.

"Sweetheart," he murmurs, and it's such a familiar term, one James often uses. But when Remus says it, it's different—softer, more personal, imbued with an intimacy born of shared secrets and quiet understanding. "You're not—You're still you. You're the woman I'm mad about, and nothing can change that."

His words weave a thread of comfort through the fabric of your thoughts, but it frays against the rough edges of self-doubt. "But last night... you saw me... struggling to use a catheter and then helped. That's not something I ever wanted you to see."

His hand leaves your cheek, warm fingers curling around your own, grounding you in their steadiness. "What I saw last night," he begins, voice firm yet gentle, like the caress of a summer breeze, "was strength. More strength than you realise you possess. And not a single moment of it—not one—made me think any less of you."

His words strike at the heart of your insecurities, each syllable a challenge to the doubts you've nursed in silence. You search his face for any sign of pity, but there is none—only the steady glow of sincerity.

"This isn't about pretending to be perfect," he continues, voice firm with conviction. "You're perfect for me, for us. Last night... it didn't change the way I feel about you. If anything, it made me love you more because I wish you'd let me in sooner. You don't have to bear this burden alone."

Your throat tightens, making speech impossible. His gaze holds yours, unwavering and sure. He means it—all of it. There's no hesitation, no shadow of doubt lurking behind his words.

"But... what if it becomes too much?" Your voice barely rises above a whisper, fear creeping into the spaces between your words. "What if one day, you decide it's too much to handle?"

Remus's hold on your hand tightens, his thumb tracing reassuring circles over your knuckles. A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth, not out of amusement, but a quiet sort of confidence. "I'm not going anywhere, love. I'm in this with you, for better or worse. We've already faced so much together. I'm not afraid of this—and neither should you be."

His words crack the shell you've formed, seeping into spaces within your heart that you'd forgotten existed. You feel a slow and steady release of tension from your shoulders, the burden of the previous night lifting ever so slightly at his touch. He speaks no more, simply holding you with a gentleness that only Remus Lupin seems to possess.

"I... I don't want you to think I'm weak," you confess, your voice no louder than the rustle of sheets beneath you.

"You're the farthest thing from weak," he assures you, the certainty in his tone wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "You've faced things others can't even imagine, and you're still here, still fighting. That's not weakness. It's strength."

Something shifts within you, something small but significant. His words echo in the hollows of your mind, filling them with a truth you've long denied yourself. Perhaps he's right—perhaps you are stronger than you've allowed yourself to believe.

"And remember," Remus adds, his voice low and soothing as a lullaby, "if you ever need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be there. James and Sirius too."

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, all you can do is nod. Then, slowly, you find your voice again. "They don't know... about the catheter. Not yet."

Remus's eyes soften in understanding. "That's your decision to make, love. When you're ready to tell them, they'll understand. They care for you as deeply as I do."

His voice is a balm to your ragged nerves, making the promise ring true in spite of everything. The fear isn't completely gone, but it's quieter now, overshadowed by Remus's unwavering presence.

You look up at him and finally allow the ghost of a smile to touch your lips—a small victory, but a significant one. "Thank you," you whisper, the gratitude heavy in your voice.

Remus's own smile is gentle, the lines around his eyes crinkling in response. He leans in, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "Anytime, love."

#marauders au #marauders era #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #meant to be: hogwarts era

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fallingblueroses · 2 months ago

Text

At last, the final part of the Panic! story. This is the longest part, with just over 4000 words.

The rest of the story can be found here:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

I'll be posting this story in its entirety on Ao3 as well.

***

Geoff took long, quiet breaths to calm himself as he sat in the courtroom next to Kathy. He was dressed in a gray suit with a white shirt, and Kathy was wearing a modest dark blue dress. The rest of VoicePlay and their wives and J's sister were sitting nearby, all of them dressed in similar clothes. Geoff and Kathy had left William with Kathy's parents, and Layne and Cyndi had also not brought their children to court.

Kathy squeezed his hand, and Geoff looked at her and smiled to let her know he was all right. He'd spent the past two weeks helping Layne and Kathy at PattyCake and working on a new arrangement for VoicePlay while being in a sustained panic attack. By now he was worrying that the constant anxiety was permanent. Last night he'd dreamed of being back in that horse trailer, blind, deaf, and taped up. It hadn't helped his mental state in the slightest.

The five of them had written out their statements and given them to Wilson. Geoff had spent some time looking up the charges against Tony and legal procedures. He hadn't been very encouraged when he'd read that it could take months for a case to go to trial and years for it to be resolved. When he'd told Kathy she'd reassured him that that was the worst-case scenario. "Worry about all that after the hearing." He'd nodded, but it was hard not to think about.

His eyes drifted over to the table where Tony's lawyer sat waiting. Wilson had called him young and ambitious, but Geoff would have added slimy to the description. He had the feeling that getting "justice" one way or the other didn't matter to this guy, as long as he got his share of publicity. Which is going to make this even harder than it needs to be.

The court clerk's voice broke through his thoughts. "Next case: The State of Florida versus Wakim." They all watched as Tony, wearing an orange jumpsuit and with his hands cuffed in front of him, was led in through a side door by a bailiff. His face was angry, but his eyes were on his lawyer. Geoff sighed to himself. Even Tony doesn't like this guy, and Tony's life is in his hands.

The judge, a middle-aged blond female, nodded toward the lawyers. "Mr. Lawson, I've read your motion to dismiss all charges against Mr. Wakim. Mr. Wilson, I have also read your answer to the motion. Now, Mr. Lawson, you are saying that Mr. Wakim did not get due process, is that correct?"

"Yes, Your Honor." Lawson spoke seriously. Geoff glanced at Tony and saw him hanging his head. "The police delayed contacting the public defender's office, and in that time subjected Mr. Wakim to questioning and obtained a confession."

Wilson interrupted. "Your Honor, according to the officers' statements Mr. Wakim was read his rights at the time of arrest before the questioning started. He voluntarily gave his confession without a lawyer present."

"Mr. Wakim was suffering from a diminished mental capacity at the time he made his confession," Lawson said. "He was suffering from withdrawal, and therefore not capable of fully understanding what was happening."

J muttered something under his breath that Geoff didn't quite catch, but the sentiment was clear enough.

"Your Honor," Wilson cut in. "At no time did Mr. Wakim exhibit any behavior that would have made a reasonable officer question his capacity. According to his own testimony, Mr. Wakim drove for two days to return to Orlando and give himself up to the police. Even accounting for withdrawal symptoms, that is not the behavior of a man who is not of sound mind."

Lawson held up a paper. "If I may, I would like to present this copy of Mr. Wakim's letter to Mr. Castellucci as evidence of Mr. Wakim's state of mind."

Geoff felt a fist squeeze his stomach as the judge nodded. "Go ahead, Mr. Lawson."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Lawson cleared his throat. "In particular I want to call attention to paragraph number seven where he states that Mrs. Castellucci told him to either, quote, turn myself in or kill myself, unquote." Kathy lowered her head at that, and Geoff patted her hand. He glanced over and saw that Tony had his head in his hands. "In the next sentence he admits he did indeed attempt to commit suicide."

"Your Honor," Wilson said. "The State has no doubt that Mr. Wakim was in a state of high emotion when he attempted to end his life. However, he had several days to recover from that before he turned himself over to the police. And again, according to the arresting officer's statement, Mr. Wakim was perfectly calm when he gave his statement, and showed no behavior that would have given any indication that he was not of sound mind."

"I have to agree with you, Mr. Wilson," the judge said. "Let the record show that Mr. Lawson has failed to provide any concrete evidence that his client was denied due process or that he had diminished mental capacity at the time of his arrest, and therefore I am denying his motion to dismiss the charges against Mr. Wakim."

Geoff lowered his head and took a breath. He heard the others making quiet sounds of relief as the judge went on. "As for the second matter on the agenda, Mr. Lawson, you have submitted a plea deal for Mr. Wakim."

"Yes, Your Honor. Considering the circumstances and the fact that Mr. Wakim has no prior record, we ask that the attempted murder and kidnapping charges be dropped. In exchange Mr. Wakim will plead guilty to the charges of grand theft auto and destruction of property along with paying restitution."

Wilson interrupted again. "I'm afraid the State can't agree, Your Honor. The actions Mr. Wakim took in this matter show a pattern of deliberate and malicious intent."

Lawson looked toward Wilson. "His actions were taken under the influence of a hallucinogen which he was unaware he was taking."

Wilson looked back at him. "Mr. Wakim was coherent enough to find and purchase an explosive device online. He was coherent enough to plan to attack and kidnap five men who trusted him. He was coherent enough to take one of those men hostage in his escape."

Geoff sank down in his chair and stopped listening. Kathy squeezed his hand, and he was aware that the others were leaning in to check on him. His eyes unfocused as he stared at the floor by his feet. "Tony, please. I'm begging you..." He saw Tony, looking away from him, listening to whatever the "double" had been telling him.

"You don't have a choice."

"There's nothing left to do."

The panic from the sawmill welled in Geoff's throat, and he was on his feet before he thought. Every nerve was screaming escape, but he managed to keep his pace to a walk. He heard Kathy's light, quick steps behind him as he left the courtroom.

She took his arm and guided him to a bench in the hallway. "Here. Sit."

He sat down, and she sat next to him and pulled him into a hug. He couldn't stop shaking. "I'm sorry, Kath. I should be stronger than this."

"No, don't." She rubbed his back in a comforting manner. "Just breathe. We can wait for the others out here."

He nodded. She didn't ask any questions, which he was grateful for. It was quiet out in the hallway, which gave him a chance to calm himself. He didn't know how long they sat there before the courtroom doors opened. Eli came out first with Ashley, followed closely by everyone else.

Layne saw them and walked up to the bench. Before Geoff could ask he said "The judge accepted the plea deal."

Geoff looked at him. "So it's over?"

"Not yet. They're going to schedule a sentencing hearing. But yeah, he's going to prison."

Kathy heaved a sigh of relief and briefly rested her head on Geoff's arm. He looked down at the floor, unsure of what to say or do now.

Another pair of feet joined Layne's, and he looked up to see Eli. "Hey Geoff." His voice was very gentle. "We're all going out to get drinks. You want to go?"

"No." Geoff shook his head. "I just want to go home and sleep."

Eli nodded and looked at Layne. "What about you?"

"Sure. I'll go." He looked at Geoff. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure. See you later, Eli."

"...Bye, Geoff." Eli walked off, followed by Layne. Geoff remained on the bench until Kathy pulled him to his feet and walked him to their van.

***

Tony tried to ignore his aching head as he was led out of the courtroom and to the van that would take him back to the jail. He wasn't disappointed; he had known the charges wouldn't be dismissed. He was actually surprised that the plea bargain had been accepted.

He'd glanced back at his former friends as he'd been led out of the courtroom. They had looked disappointed and angry at the outcome. He didn't blame them. He'd also noticed that Geoff hadn't been there, but he was almost certain Geoff had been there when the hearing had started. He wondered what had happened...

He got in the back of the van and stayed still as the guard cuffed him to the seat. Lawson's smirking face after the hearing came to him. "You'll be out in a year, I guarantee it."

Tony had thanked him, barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice. He knew he should be grateful that the worst of the charges had been dropped, but he'd be relieved when he didn't have to deal with that sleazeball anymore.

He sat in silence as he was driven back to the jail.

***

Geoff had to take a bit to reorient himself once he woke up. He lifted his head and saw he was in bed next to Kathy. The television was on with low sound, casting light on her sleeping face. A quick glance at a wall clock showed it was just after four in the morning.

He laid where he was for a bit, then got up and turned the television off. They'd need to get up soon anyway. He'd surprise Kathy with a quick homemade breakfast before they went to PattyCake.

He walked into the kitchen, turned on the oven, and got what he'd need to make biscuits. His spirits lifted as he measured and mixed and rolled out the dough, and his mind drifted as he worked. Embarassment tinged his cheeks pink as he remembered his panic attack at the hearing, but Kathy had been very kind to him on the drive home. "You're not going to recover in a few weeks. Especially not with all this legal stuff hanging over you. Once all the hearings and things are over you can rest."

She's been amazing through all this, he thought. He'd probably have gone insane by now if not for Kathy. I'll have to do something to show her how much I appreciate her.

He tried to think of what he could do for her, but couldn't stop his mind from going over the hearing again and what possible sentences Tony might get. He wondered if he should skip the sentencing hearing, considering how he'd reacted yesterday. If the others go, I probably should too...

He began to cut biscuits out of the rolled dough, and an idea came to him. He slowly turned it over in his mind and then nodded to himself. I could do it...

A smile came to his face as he slid the biscuit-filled tray into the oven. Once it was more normal hours, he'd have some phone calls to make...

***

Tony frowned a little as the guard led him into the little room where he'd first met with Lawson. Another guard stood against the far wall. It was five days since the hearing, and he'd expected to see the lawyer there with an update on the sentencing hearing. Instead there was a woman in a gray pantsuit and with her curly orange hair up in a ponytail. She smiled and extended her hand when Tony sat down. "Good afternoon, Mr. Wakim. My name's Laura Fletcher. I'm a certified public accountant."

Right, Tony thought. Layne probably wanted to get him out of PattyCake's business as soon as possible. "...Nice to meet you."

"I've been hired by Mr. Geoff Castellucci to discuss the sale of your share in PattyCake Productions. I've got his offer here, and we can go over it together."

Geoff? Tony hadn't expected that. Fletcher slid a packet of papers over to him. As she went over the offer Tony was surprised again; the offer was more than fair, and in Tony's favor. There was an appraisal of PattyCake included, and Geoff was offering more than Tony's half was worth. Tony would also keep any future profits from videos that had been finished before the date of sale.

Tony tried to make sense of it. He'd known he would have to get rid of his share of PattyCake anyway, and had wondered where he was going to find a buyer. But this...he hadn't expected such a generous offer, especially not from any of VoicePlay. He'd have to pay restitution to them and this would put a good dent in it...

Was Geoff trying to help him out?

"Well, Mr. Wakim?" Fletcher said. "What do you think?"

Tony swallowed. "I'll take it." He took the pen Fletcher offered him, signed where she indicated, and handed everything back to her.

"Thank you, Mr. Wakim. I'll let Mr. Castellucci know you accepted his offer. The money will be transferred to your bank account within twenty-four hours." She picked up a messenger bag from the floor and tucked the papers inside.

"...Thank you." He swallowed. "And please tell Mr. Castellucci I said thank you as well."

"Of course, sir. Have a good day." They shook hands again. Once she'd left, the guard standing against the wall led Tony back to his cell. He laid on his bunk and stared at the ceiling for a long time.

There wasn't much else he could do.

***

William started crying as Geoff's phone went off, and Geoff sighed to himself as he checked the screen. "Great timing, Layne." He sat down in the nursery's rocking chair and tried to lull his son back to sleep as he answered the phone. "Hello Layne." He put the phone on speaker and set it down on a stand near the chair.

Layne's bewildered voice came over the phone. "Geoff, what the hell are you doing?"

"At the moment, trying to put William to bed. Which I was doing a good job at until you called, so thanks." Thankfully William's cries were already softening as he snuggled into his father's arms.

"Kathy just told me. You're buying Tony out?"

"I bought him out. He signed."

"At twenty percent above market value?"

Geoff sighed. "Yep."

"And continued royalty payments?"

"Sure did."

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to do that?"

"Wasn't aware your permission was needed." He stopped rocking as William went still.

"So you're telling me that you basically screwed yourself over on a business deal. On purpose."

"Tony would have had to sell anyway to pay the restitution. This way PattyCake stays in the family. You won't have any strangers coming in and telling you what to do."

"So he's going to be paying us with your money."

Geoff sighed. "His money now."

Layne sighed as well, and Geoff could imagine the look on his face. "You're trying to help Tony."

"Maybe."

"Geoff--"

"Layne, listen." Geoff began to rock William again; the motion calmed his nerves. "I know you guys are pissed off. I don't blame you. And I...I wish I could be pissed at him too. But I can't. It wasn't Tony that did that to us. It was that drug he was taking."

Layne's voice was even. "I get what you're saying. But I can't separate them." A pause. "I keep having nightmares about what happened. I keep seeing that moment when he swung the bat at me. I see myself going through PattyCake and finding everyone's dead bodies."

Geoff's eyes stung. "I'm having nightmares too. I keep seeing the sawmill after the bomb went off. Or else I'm back in that trailer and it's just silence and darkness. But...the Tony I saw at the sawmill wasn't the one that came to see me at the hospital. It wasn't the one I saw in the courtroom. The one at the sawmill was a monster...the others were my friend."

Layne was silent, and Geoff gently rocked William while he waited. Layne finally sighed. "The others won't like it."

"They don't have to."

"I guess not."

Geoff smiled to himself. "See you at work, partner."

Layne chuckled. "Yeah. Be ready to be put to work, partner."

"Good night, Layne."

"'Night, Geoff." Layne hung up. Geoff closed his eyes and kept rocking William as his body finally relaxed.

***

The sentencing hearing was held three weeks after the last one. Geoff sat with VoicePlay in the row behind Wilson's table as they waited for the hearing to start. In a coincidence, they had all decided to leave their families at home.

It'll be over soon, Geoff told himself. He glanced at his friends, who all seemed to be as tired as he felt. Wilson had said that they would be given the opportunity to speak after the lawyers had made their arguments and had advised them to prepare statements beforehand. Instead of five separate statements they had decided to go with one, and Layne had been chosen to read it to the court. Layne was holding the paper now, his head down as they waited for things to start.

"All rise," the bailiff called out. They rose to their feet as the same judge from before came in, and then sat back down at the judge's instruction. Tony was led in, his head bowed and looking as tired as the rest of them.

Geoff barely listened as the lawyers made their arguments on what Tony's sentence should be. As far as he could tell it was a repeat of the plea hearing, with Wilson arguing for the maximum penalty and Lawson for the minimum. The judge herself almost looked bored, and Geoff had the thought that they were all just going through the motions. No doubt the judge had already made up her mind, and all of this was just a formality.

Finally it was Layne's turn to speak. He started to read from the paper, then dropped it and looked directly at Tony, who was looking back. "Tony, you were our friend. We trusted you, and you betrayed us. And Geoff might be able to forgive you, but I can't. Not when I look at this--" he gestured to his cast "--and remember the look on your face when you swung that baseball bat at me. Not when I hold my baby girl and think of the future that you almost took from us." Layne's voice cracked, and he took a moment to compose himself. Tony lowered his head. "Or when I think of the sheer terror I felt, we all felt in that sawmill when we were waiting to die."

Earl was crying quietly by now, and Eli and J didn't look too far behind. Geoff had to wipe his own eyes. Layne went on. "And to hear that it was all over some...some drug-based delusion. If you felt you'd been cheated you should have come to us. We could have talked it out. Instead you...you did all this. And we'll heal, Tony, but our scars will remain. Maybe someday our nightmares will stop, but we'll never forget this." Layne hesitated, but then sat back down. Geoff squeezed his good hand while the others patted his shoulders and back.

"Do the rest of you have anything to say?" the judge asked. The others were silent, and she went on. "Very well. Mr. Wakim, do you have anything to say before I pronounce sentence?"

"Yes, Your Honor." Tony looked at them. "I'm sorry. I wish things were different, and I understand if you can't forgive me. But I just wanted you to know that." He turned away and lowered his head.

"All right," the judge said. "Mr. Wakim, after careful consideration, I sentence you to one year in prison for the first count of grand theft auto, one year in prison for the second count of grand theft auto, and one year in prison for the count of third-degree felony destruction of property. These sentences are to run concurrently with time served. You will be transferred to the minimum-security prison at Wildwood to serve your sentences. You will also be fined five thousand dollars for each of the three counts as well as pay restitution to your victims for their expenses incurred as a result of your actions." She looked at Tony. "Do you have any questions?"

Tony's back was ramrod straight as he looked back at the judge. "No, Your Honor."

"Very well. You will be taken back to the county jail and processed for transfer within the next twenty-four hours." She slammed down her gavel and the bailiff came to lead Tony out. He looked back at VoicePlay and met Geoff's eyes, but Geoff wasn't at all sure what his own face was saying as he looked back at him.

Once they got out in the hallway they all hugged Layne in turn. Layne wiped his eyes. "Sorry, guys. I just--"

"No," J said. "That speech was better than what we wrote anyway."

Eli sighed. "It's over now, isn't it?"

"Yeah," J said. "It's over."

There was an awkward silence, and then Layne said "Why don't you all come over to my place for a while?"

They agreed, none of them feeling like being alone at the moment. When they got to Layne's they found he'd called ahead and Cyndi had prepared some light snacks for them. It was a support group session rather than a celebration, but it gave them the time they needed to process and decompress before heading back to their own homes.

***

One month later

"Wakim. You have a visitor."

Tony got off his bunk and followed the guard to the visiting room. He was not at all surprised to see Geoff waiting. He'd tried to come visit two weeks ago, but the paperwork hadn't been filled out. Guess everything's been approved now. He sat down facing Geoff across the table. "Hey Geoff."

"Hey Tony." He smiled a little. "Holding up all right?"

"Yeah, considering." Tony nodded. "How are things out there?"

"Not bad. Layne's finally got his arm out of the cast. We're about to pick up our tour again."

"Back to normal, huh?"

"Just about."

"Does Kathy know you're here?"

"No." He grinned. "You think I'm stupid? She'd shred me if she knew I was here."

Tony smiled back. He had thought there would be a lot of awkward silences, but the two of them were soon talking as if nothing had ever happened. Tony told Geoff about his job in the prison laundry, and Geoff told Tony about the new project he and Layne were planning for PattyCake and, to Tony's surprise, asked for advice. "You've been a producer for a lot longer than I have." Tony gladly gave his suggestions as Geoff nodded and took mental notes.

It was a shock when the guard announced there was five minutes left. They both stood, and Geoff hugged him. "Don't know how often I'll get to visit with the tour coming up. But I'll keep in touch."

"I'll be looking forward to it." Tony pulled back. "And Geoff...thanks for this."

"You're welcome." Geoff smiled. "You know where to reach me."

"Yeah. See you later."

"Take care, Tony." Geoff slowly turned and left, and Tony took a moment to compose himself before he went back to his cell.

#fan fiction #fanfic #voiceplay #geoff castellucci #layne stein #eli jacobson #j. none #earl elkins jr.#kathy castellucci #panic! at the disco video

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