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#with the... mental fragility that came with being forced to acknowledge what was happening to him he pretty much ended up in the perfect
jkftkth · 4 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/jkftkth/736503683453435904/okay-i-rewatched-jms-live-with-the-weverse in the ot4 live he looked uncomfortable when namjoon asked him about when he was planning on shaving it, told us he wasn't gonna share any pictures and then said he had a lot of thoughts about his hair. armys definitely shouldn't try to make assumptions about why he's upset with it (like saying it's because of his gender identity when there are infinite reasons why someone can be uncomfortable with a forced haircut) but i understand why there was so much discussion cause imo some ppl were being downright disrespectful making jokes when he appeared with a full head of hair to tae and joon's entrance ceremony and then filling the comments to his live with requests to show his head, after he had previously said he didn't want fans to see him like that
to be fair he was laughing the entire ot4 live while saying so. i actually think he was a lot more nervous than other members were showing. while the rest were trying to be positive for fans, he was being a bit more honest and it came off to me as how he gets sometimes - self conscious. jk also didn’t want to show his hair but did. i believe that either of them wouldn’t have if it made them so uncomfortable, they’ve always set boundaries. i didn’t see the jokes when taejoon left, but if they were disrespectful they shouldn’t have been made obviously. unfortunately weverse fans don’t really seem to care about any members’ feelings. but my point was about the almost far fetched speculation for why he was sad. it’s like everyone brushed passed the more obvious primary reasons as if those don’t deserve to be acknowledged and tried to start a discourse that just shouldn’t have happened. this is mandatory enlistment. your life on pause. away from your family. separated from your friends. we know how hard the pandemic era was for jm, being forced to pause what he loves doing the most. forceful separation to waste two years of your life isn’t something easy to wrap your head around and process instantly. but i saw more fans talking about how he’s fragile/vulnerable because of physical looks and to see so many people agree? was concerning. strength to him this entire time. may he stay healthy physically and mentally.
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uuujeewriting · 3 years
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should have [xiao oneshot]
tw: mentions of self harm and suicide, mental health issues and angst with a bit of fluff
xiao x gn! reader
a/n: first post on the blog! decided to show some xiao love and u h angst ehe. sorry for the downer but i haven’t been doing so well and meds don’t do much DDDX
i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize
“reckless thing, you are-” the yaksha huffs and ceases his own words as he coughs at your impact on his chest. “how many times have i reminded you to stop running up or down the stairs?” he scowls. you know he means well.
“ah, sorry xiao,” you chuckle, “i’m just excited to see you, is all.” you push yourself off the chest that caught you and peered gleefully at the male. he seems annoyed to the unknowing mortals passing by, but as a person who has spent half their time ‘pestering’ (as he says) the adeptus, you can quickly tell that he was merely relieved and was trying to hide it—although he’d rather deal with karmic debt twice his own than to admit such fondness for you. “thanks by the way.”
xiao diverts his gaze onto the railing of the stairs, “this is the fourth time this week that you’ve gotten yourself into dangerous and careless situations. are you sure you’re keeping an eye out for yourself?” he interrogates you as if he were your guardian, which he might as well be, you nod earnestly at his question.
“don’t worry about me, i’d never dream of leaving you alone.” you giggle. this answer of yours urged the adeptus to cringe and tell you to stop thinking like you’re all important and whatnot, but he knew he’d be lying if he said you weren’t someone he treasures deeply. “i swear on it!” you add.
“hmph, fine.” he begins to walk away, stopping for a second. xiao hesitates to take the next step without a word and decides to leave you with a message,
“if you ever find yourself in trouble, no matter how small or big–if you know that it’ll cause you any harm, call out my name. i’ll be there.”
you appreciated that.
to be fair, xiao did not bring up his concern because of your recent recklessness, but how dim you seem in comparison to how you were before. yes, you still smiled brightly, but the lanterns in the sky easily outshines you. your eyes still held warmth, but warmth that fleeted every now and then if not focused on the adeptus’. he worried that something was gnawing at the back of your mind and causing said recklessness as of current. 
he knows mortals are weak, fragile, and although he does not look down on you too much, he still feels the need to protect you from even the slightest of disturbances, which is what led to his conclusion now; to check up on you.
‘where in teyvat are they?’ xiao furrows his eyebrows in frustration as he knocks on the door to your house for the sixth time.as he reaches out to knock once more, he flinches slightly when the door opens.
what the hell?
“oh! xiao, what are you doing here?” you smile. 
he could see how distressed you are, even from a mile away, he presumes. you look weaker, thinner and definitely worse than three days ago. eyes as dull as a blank canvas that hasn’t been acknowledged by it’s artist for years, limbs as frail as a dried flower’s petals. what in archons happened to you?
“y/n, what in the seven happened? what’s with your weak physique? you clearly haven’t been taking care of yourself.” he moves to grab your arm but you draw it back quickly before he could catch it. he grows more and more irritated as your silence greets his question, left to be unanswered.
“i’m sorry, xiao, but could you leave me be for a while? i’ll visit you soon, i promise!” 
ah, there you go again with your promises.
“why the hell would i leave after seeing you on the brink of fainting? someone has to look out for you if you aren’t going to yourself!” he exclaims as he grows more and more livid by the second. 
you huff in annoyance, “why do you care? you have millions of other people to save, you shouldn’t get distracted by one you can’t do anything about.” 
xiao clicks his tongue in extreme disappointment as he doesn’t seem to get through you. “you don’t get it at all, do you?” 
“you don’t get it either, xiao.”
silence envelops the air between you as you bask in infuriatingly awkward stillness. xiao knows he doesn’t get it, you know you’ll never understand him either. it’s hopeless.
after a few minutes or what felt like a decade, you speak up. 
“..hey, can you accompany me somewhere?” you catch his attention. he raises a brow in skepticism, as it is the middle of the night. “it won’t take long.”
he sighs quietly and nods, nudging his head to silently signal you to lead the way. he might as well accompany you instead of going off on a tangent about how you worry him too much.
you arrive at the windrise tree, the breeze nipping gently at your exposed legs. xiao eyes you from behind and bites his tongue despite his urge to berate you.
you sit down at the base of the windrise tree, letting out a long sigh of relief as you stretch your legs. the adeptus hesitates for a second but ultimately decides to sit down beside you.
this time, he’s the first to break the ice.
“what is your purpose of going here with me?” he doesn’t meet your eyes that snap to him quickly at his question. 
there are multiple reasons as to why you might have wanted to visit windrise, some being that you wanted to take a breather after a heated argument, taking a stroll after an exhausting week or even just needing a fresh scenery for a change. all of these reasons and yet, nothing could have prepared him for the words that came next.
“it could be the last time i’ll see this place again.” you smile fondly, despite the rather depressing statement you had just made. 
the yaksha froze up. ‘last time? are you moving?’
could it be that you’re leaving him? when you said you never dared to even think of it?
perhaps the fatui were after you?
were you in danger?
his mind listed a myriad of possibilities, all of them he wished were not true. he was still trying to wrap his head around what you just said. when you finally take into account his stiffness and silence, you forced out a chuckle. 
“yeah, i’ll be gone by tomorrow.”
he shouldn’t have done what he did next.
“..xiao? are you-”
he cut you off by standing up and glaring at you.
your heart dropped at his gaze.
it was one of the most intimidating but hurtful looks he’d ever made in your presence. his eyes screamed in unsaid fury and his face was etched in borderline offense. looking down. you see both his fists clenched in a tight grip of nothing. his form was trembling in anger, almost making you mistake yourself for one of the millions of demonic figures he rinsed the land of. 
“don’t ever show yourself again.”
noted. and he’s gone.
you stare at your scarred arms and wrists. 
‘it won’t be long now.’
xiao regrets it now, is all.
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shuahoonie · 3 years
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out of love [tom holland]
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PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 
SUMMARY: being close friends with your ex is fine, right? even if your love for them was unparalleled among others. even if you were still in the process of moving on from them. even if you know they’re happy with someone else. even if you have no clue whether they loved you like you loved them. 
WARNINGS: foul language, so much angst, it starts ok at first then goes downhill from there. i literally write things on the go so i don’t know if this will have fluff at some point 
(if it does and i didn’t state it here, send me a cute photo of tom and a message of: ok wow she pulled thru 🤪; and if it doesn’t have fluff, send me a meme and a message of: miss girl i simply cannot today ✋😃)  
WORD COUNT: 5.6k 
A/N: hello! tonight, we are going to be sad!!! i know i usually like to write about all things fluff, but this?? this is just for me because i am having one of those episodes. i just need to feel something again aside from the stress of writing 3 academic papers per week lmao. i’m def not expecting people to like this type of vibe but yannoe. i apologize in advance. 
this is inspired by that one episode from new girl (season 6 x ep 16)
gif credits: @thollandgifs​ 
vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form | part two - pandemonium ​​
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“You know, you can still live with us right?” Your friend Maia commented as she placed the box, labelled “fine china that mom gave me but will i ever use them?”, on the kitchen island. 
“I know,” You murmured dropping the heavy case of pots and pans on the floor. “But maybe living alone will be good for me.” You replied, forcing a smile. “Besides, I don’t want to int—“
“Hey, Y/N, where do you want this?” Harrison asked as he held out a box that’s labelled with “books that my grandpa passed on. HANDLE WITH CARE!” 
“Oh, just set it down on the living room—“ before you could even finish, Harrison dropped the box on the floor as if it was nothing. “Harrison!” You hissed, as you quickly rushed to check on the box. 
“Y/N, babe, they’re just books. Surely they can withstand any amount of pressure, yeah?” Haz tried to reassure you. 
“Haz, those books are from my grandpa—which I’m sure he got from his grandpa.” You sighed. “They’re really old and fragile, so I just want them to be in a well enough condition to stand in my bookcase.” 
“‘m sorry,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just, why do you have to move out?” Harrison asked, frustrated at the whole thing. 
“Like I told Maia, maybe having my own place will be good for me.” You replied calmly, as you neatly put the box filled with your grandpa’s books in the corner room—the initial place where you want to build your bookcase. “It’s been a while since I’ve lived on my own.” 
“Yeah,” Harrison acknowledged “But there’s absolutely no reason for you to move out. You can’t possibly leave me with her!” He pointed at Maia who let out an audible gasp. Harrison was being dramatic of course.  
“Haz—“ You were trying to fight off a laugh. “You two are my constants and if I became dependant on having you two at my convenience, it’s going to be a huge problem.” 
“In my opinion, I don’t see it as a problem.” Maia pointed out childishly. You shook your head in disbelief. You had to move out because you miss having a place to yourself— a place where you can be at your complete worst and you don’t have to think about your friends worrying about you. 
Besides, moving out means you don’t have to see Tom that often and that was a bonus in your book. It wasn’t a sour breakup per se, it’s just really difficult to feel happy for your ex when he practically showcases how different he is now with his girlfriend. 
You prided yourself as a mature and well-rounded person who could be complete friends with her ex as if that’s normal. You could only keep the façade for so long. 
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Four months. It’s been four months since you and Tom broke up. You lived with Maia soon after the breakup and that enough was a blessing. Maia couldn’t bear to handle the fact that you would be alone at a time like this. Harrison usually crashes at Maia’s so he was bound to move in with you two. In fact, he was always there more often than you. 
That was the point where you were convinced that Harrison liked Maia and that Maia liked Harrison.
Conveniently, you and Tom never ‘officially’ moved in together so you could avoid him freely at all costs.
Of course, that was eventually going to end soon. You and Tom were in the same friend group so you were bound to see each other, much to your dismay. You couldn’t exactly make Harrison and Maia pick friends because it’s not fair for anyone. 
You were all friends before you and Tom decided to date. Maybe that’s why people say to never date a friend—especially if they’re near and dear. 
You were coming back from work when you found people in the living room, and as if the universe really wanted to test you, it was the least likely people you’d expect to see. 
“Y/N!” Maia’s voice was pure panic. “I didn’t know you’d be home this early.” 
Your eyes quickly flickered between the two people standing across you before you diverted your attention to Maia. “Uh—yeah. There wasn’t really much to do in the office so I came home early.” 
Maia turned to Harrison who was equally lost on how to handle the situation. I mean, who wouldn’t?! What were you supposed to do when your friend drops in unannounced with their new girlfriend and to makes the matters worse, your other friend—whom your friend dated before— decides to come home early? 
You didn’t know how what kind of spirit took over your body that prompted you to extend your hand to the girl sitting beside your ex and say: “Hello, I’m Y/N.” 
The girl looked surprised but shook your hand in return. “Nadine,” Nadine smiled slyly “I—um, I’m Tom’s girlfriend.” 
Tom looked mildly uncomfortable but you chose to ignore it. You were becoming good at that—ignoring Tom. 
You returned the smile at Nadine. You could feel the burning stares from your friends, mostly Maia. You cleared your throat and said, “I’ll just be in my room to finish the papers I need to send to my editor if you’ll excuse me.” 
Before you left completely, you gave Nadine another smile and said, “It’s nice to meet you again, Nadine.”
You don’t remember how you got to your room but that was the least of your concern. You were just undeniably overwhelmed with what just happened that you didn’t even notice that there was a knock on your door. 
When you opened the door, it was the last person you expected to see standing in your doorframe. 
“Can we talk?” Tom asked in almost a whisper. 
You gave him a half shrug and opened the door slightly wider for him. 
“We’re okay, right?” He asked, looking at you in the eye. 
At this point, you convinced yourself that you were numb. You never talked about the breakup. You never overtly said anything about what you felt. You felt empty. You convinced yourself that you were empty. 
You stared back at Tom and without missing a beat, you replied “Of course. Why shouldn’t we?” 
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“Just admit that you two will miss me,” You teased, grabbing another box from Maia. 
“Only if you admit that you’re moving out for an entirely different reason,” Maia whispered carefully as her eyes flickered towards Tom who was also helping with your move out. 
You pressed your lips together and acted like he wasn’t even there. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, you know, like a liar. 
You weren’t a vocal person. The idea of talking about your feelings was really difficult for you so you try your best to avoid it. Actually, it’s worse than that. You’d go to extreme lengths to avoid confrontation.
Obviously, it wasn’t healthy. You would always distance yourself whenever you feel emotionally exhausted, and you really meant that distance. It wasn’t bad at first—maybe a day or two was all you needed before you felt comfortable enough to be around people again. 
Then it became worse when you were in university. You were beyond unreachable. Aside from being emotionally exhausted, you were mentally drained too. You were always buried with papers and readings which was unavoidable but it took a huge toll on you. So whenever you get a chance to get a break, you completely shut off from people. 
Your friends definitely noticed it and they tried their best to help. 
Tom was among the people who definitely went out of their way to help you. He would always drop by at your dorm with food or coffee—he would literally just drop them off, most of the time. He would leave small notes that up to this day, you still kept and tucked away in a box. 
Both Maia and Harrison followed Tom’s approach. They would all alternate on who’s dropping what and when. Some days, Maia would drop off a new skincare product she’s been using or a lovely box of macarons from your favourite patisserie. 
On other days, Harrison would drop off some of his home-cooked meals or maybe a book he saw from a local bookstore—a book that reminded him of you.
Tom was very persistent though. He would sometimes wait out on the hall, just so he could see you and reassure himself (and your friends) that you were okay. 
You found it taxing at first—you would often try your best to match the energy from your friends, which only left you exhausted at the end of the day. You wanted space and you clearly weren’t getting that from Tom. You did acknowledge that he only did it out of pure concern. 
You often wondered why he did that, staying, but you didn’t ask him. You never did.
Maybe you were afraid that you’d come off as rude or that you’d seem ungrateful for dismissing someone when they’ve clearly taken the time off their day just to check on you. 
However, every time you’d open that door, it always seemed that Tom would breathe a huge sigh of relief when you lock eyes. Even if it was just for a quick second. You wondered about that too.
Tom wasn’t really being intrusive. Most of the time, he will leave a few minutes after you’d open the door to get the things your friends would drop off. You’d always ask him if he wants to stay inside for a bit, but he’d always decline.
Except for that one time, though. That one time that you knew you were going to fall in love.
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It was the week of midterms and deadlines. You were knee-deep with papers from different classes that demanded to be finished that week, one of which was a research paper that practically tied you to your laptop and made you consume an unhealthy amount of caffeine. 
It wasn’t until 2 am when you were about to go on a quick drive to a McDonald’s but saw Tom dozed off in the hallway, his back pressed against the wall.
“Tom,” You shook him gently, trying not to startle him. “Tom, wake up.”
His eyes slowly fluttered open, seemingly disoriented at first but would soon fall into the warm familiarity that your face always brings. 
“Why are you sleeping in the hall?” You asked quietly, careful not to make a fuss. The walls in your dorm were very thin and you learned that the hard way. You’d think they’d put a disclaimer about that in the lease when you’re housing a bunch of university students with raging sex drives. 
It took Tom a minute to fully comprehend the question, seeing that the bright fluorescent light was being harsh on him and that he’s generally like that when being jolted awake. 
“Oh, erm, I—” Tom was finding the right words to use. He can’t exactly exclaim ‘I’ve been worried sick about you!’ out of nowhere. Instead he said, “I was waiting for you to open the door, just to see if you’re alright.” 
“All night?”
Tom scratched the back of his neck. “It seemed that way, yeah.” He muttered sheepishly. 
You were dumbfounded. Surely this was the first time someone actually fell asleep outside your door, waiting for you to come out. It was sweet but highly unnecessary. 
“I was just about to head out and get some McDonald’s, do you wanna come with?” You asked, giving him a hand to hoist himself up. 
“I should get going—“ 
“Have you eaten yet?” You asked cutting him off, taking Tom by surprise. He shook his head no. “Then you should really come.” You said, jingling your car keys in front of him.
Tom was debating whether or not to go with you. It’s been a while since you hung out, but that was the same case for everyone. None of your friends have properly hung out with you ever since the semester started. 
Tom should say yes, right? 
“Let’s go, Tommy,” You said as you grabbed his hand and dragged him across the hall. “I’ve been staring at my laptop all day and I really need some unhealthy food to balance out the concerning amount of caffeine I’ve consumed.” 
“Is that why you’re practically bouncing off the walls?” Tom asked amused, trying to keep up with your pace with your hand holding his. 
“Totally,” You grinned at him. “I need to wear out the caffeine or else, I’d have to skip my morning class again.” 
“French?” 
You nodded. “They’re counting the amount of absences in that class and I really need to keep my shit together.” 
“‘m not exactly sure why you took that as an elective,” Tom commented, properly wrapping his hand around yours with fingers interlacing each other.  
You tried to ignore it, you really did, but the warm feeling that settled around your stomach drove you crazy. 
“Why not? I think it’s cool to learn another language.” You nudged him playfully which he gladly returned. 
“I know and trust me, I’m in awe that you’re learning another language! erm—I guess it’s just I feel like you’re overworking yourself too much.” Tom pointed out softly, hoping he didn’t come off as rude or intrusive. 
“Eh, I don’t mind.” You replied “It’s what drives me to keep going and for me that’s more than enough. Even if it leaves me little to no sleep, even if it takes too much of my time—it’s enough reason for me to do it.” 
Tom stared at you in admiration as soon as those words slipped out your mouth and you didn’t even notice it. You were walking towards the student parking lot, consumed by the twinkling lights from the neighbouring lanes near campus. 
Maybe if you weren’t busy consuming the quiet campus grounds, you’d notice the very first time Tom fell in love with you. 
“Besides, I know a phrase in french now.”
“Hm—and what’s that, then?” 
“Je ne suis pas l’escargot” 
“L’escargot? Isn’t that—“ 
“I am not a snail,” You giggled. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”
Tom laughed, “I supposed so.” 
Maybe if you weren’t so afraid of confrontation, you’d have an idea of when Tom knew that you were his person.
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See, the thing is— you needed to face reality sooner or later and both your friends could see right through it. 
“Honestly, Y/N, how on earth can your box of art materials be this heavy—” Tom appeared in front of the door frame, heaving as he carried the box from two flights of stairs. 
You quickly averted your gaze from Maia, who was staring at you expectantly, and cleared your throat. “You can just set them by the door, Tom. I don’t know where to put them yet.” You said as you tried your best to act normal. 
“You sure? They’re a tad heavy and I don’t want you to strain yourself.” Tom asked with furrowed brows. 
All you could do was nod. The last thing you wanted was Tom’s focused attention on you.
“If you say so,” Tom sighed in defeat “I’m going to grab more boxes—Baby, you don’t have to carry that!” Tom was quick to disappear as he urgently dashed towards his girlfriend, Nadine. 
“Oh, but I want to help, Tommy.” You heard Nadine say sweetly, assuming she was also pouting. 
You could see Maia roll her eyes, urging you to give her a nudge and a taunting look. “Maia,” you called her out, silently pleading her to stop. 
Maia settled down but she wasn’t exactly calm about it either. “I’m still not sure why she’s here.” She murmured. You and Harrison were close enough that you can hear her rambles—which was expected from her anyway. 
Maia and Nadine go way back—like toddlers and playgrounds kind of way. Though that sounds figuratively adorable in a way, Maia and Nadine never got along. 
Nadine used to date Maia’s brother, which already caused Maia a great demise. As one could expect, the relationship didn’t end well. She left him out of nowhere, saying she needs to find herself—or something along those lines. 
A week after the breakup, what Nadine found was herself in the arms of another man. Of course, Maia’s brother was devastated—He truly loved Nadine. Maia had to be the pillar that her brother leaned on. It took Maia a great amount of time to help her brother pick up the pieces that Nadine left. 
So yeah—Maia wasn’t thrilled when she heard that Tom was Nadine’s new boyfriend. 
“She offered to help, Mai,” You whispered “Who am I to deny help?” 
Maia looked at you as if you managed to empty your head while you were moving in between flats. “She’s been after me ever since we were kids. She’s also the reason why it took my brother months to get out of bed,” Maia deadpanned “and She’s Tom’s new girlfriend. Remember Tom? Your ex?” She said rather loudly.
You gave her a tiny pinch on her arm, causing her to yelp. “Maia, are you nuts?!”
Harrison left the two of you so he could grab more boxes, while you and Maia bickered silently amongst each other. 
“You are thicker than I thought—Seriously, Y/N. Quit pinching me!” Maia aggressively rubbed her arm. 
“They’re going to hear you!” You hissed. “The last thing I want is for those two to get involved.” 
“Babe, they’re already involved. Tom, especially.” Maia remarked. “I see the way you look at Tom. I also see the pain you feel whenever he’s with she who must not be named.” 
“I’m not doing this Maia,” you mumbled as you walked past her. Your objective was now to help Harrison with the remaining boxes. Your objective was anything but to talk about you and Tom. 
“You have to face it sooner or later, Y/N.” Maia called out “I’m not leaving you or this apartment until you tell me what really happened.” 
“What’s going on?” Harrison asked as he entered the apartment, carrying three sets of boxes. You grabbed one from him and actively avoided his question. 
Before Maia could reply, Tom and Nadine appeared on the doorframe, with Nadine practically glued to Tom. 
“Harrison got the last remaining boxes so we’re heading off now,” Tom announced as Nadine’s face painted with clear desperation to get out of your place. “Are we still going bowling tonight?” Tom asked before Nadine whispered something in Tom’s ear and left.
“I’m actually exhausted so I’ll pass,” You answered, obviously avoiding spending time with your ex and his current girlfriend. You’re not that pathetic. 
“Same might actually have to just drink the night away,” Maia responded with a grin.
“Well, there’s no way I’m third-wheeling so I’m good,” Harrison said as he threw himself towards the plush teal couch that you snagged from a flea market. 
For the tiniest second, Tom seemed disappointed but gave a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, maybe we can reschedule our bowling night, then?” He asked. “It’s not as fun to go bowling with just the two people.” 
You, Harrison, and Maia all shared a look. You weren’t on board with bowling-night, to begin with, but you didn’t want Tom to feel as if you were avoiding him—which you were but no one needs to know that. 
Maia looked at you, waiting for an answer because god knows she will solely depend on her decision based on yours. You don’t even have an answer, to begin with. 
“What are you two supposed to do then?” Harrison asked Tom. Thank god for Harrison.
“I might take Nadine to this poetry jam event that she’s been dying to go to” Tom replied with a soft voice. 
“A poetry night?” Maia almost wanted to laugh “You don’t even have the slightest interest in literature, Tom.” Maia didn’t mean to offend him or maybe she did? She wasn’t completely fond of Tom ever since you and Tom broke up—well, she wasn’t fond of the idea that Tom was dating her ‘arch nemesis’, but Tom was her friend and so were you. 
“I know that, Mai.” Tom rolled his eyes “but Nadine likes it and I’ll do everything to make her happy.” That left a bitter taste in your mouth. 
“If you say so,” Maia murmured before she took a quick look at you. She looked like she wants to give you the biggest hug. But you held a stoic look on your face—something that you picked up because you were afraid of confrontation. 
“I’m serious,” Tom defended, lost in his feelings, which only irked Maia even more. 
“I know, I heard you— we heard you,” Maia replied, her face showing only one emotion: annoyed. “God, read the room,” Maia grumbled to herself. Harrison had to reach for her hand, urging her to calm down. 
“I really love her,” Tom whispered. That left a slap in the face. 
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It was a cold Saturday afternoon and it has been raining almost all day. It was one of the rare weekends that you weren’t really occupied to do anything other than to lay on your couch and consume a copious amount of entertainment.
Despite the spitting rain, you actually want to head out this time. Being confined to your desk and the university was torture especially since you couldn’t do anything about it—the four of you were graduating this year, no one could afford to slack off. 
You and Tom were cuddled against the sofa— Tom was busy watching something on TV while you were busy scrolling on your phone. 
“Hey, Tom?” 
“Yes, my sweet girl?” 
“Do you want to go downtown?” You asked, looking at your phone as you read the details of an event happening this weekend.
“Right now?”
“Mhm,” you hummed. “There’s a book fair being held at the local theatre.” You rested your chin on top of his chest and gave him a pout. You were getting sick of being cooped up between your study table and the library. This book fair was a change of scenery and it’s definitely right up your alley.
“But it’s raining, darling” Tom tried to say in the softest way possible. It’s not exactly up in Tom’s interests though.
“I know,” You sighed “I guess I’m just getting sick of this place.”
“You’re getting sick of me?” Tom asked with a huge pout. He was kidding of course. 
“I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of you, Tom.” You chuckled softly. 
“Okay,” He hummed, pulling you closer to him—if that was even possible. “Then can we stay like this for a while?” 
“Anything for you, angel.” You whispered as you closed the details about the local book fair. Maybe next time. 
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Soon after Tom left, Maia pulled you to her side and asked, “You okay, babe?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You feigned innocence. It was clear as day that you weren’t okay, your friends knew that. 
Knowing that you weren’t going to budge, Maia walked towards the kitchen and brought out a bottle of wine from the fridge. 
Harrison raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “When did you manage to put that in the fridge?” All of you had been occupied with grabbing boxes that there was no way that Maia had the time to put wine in the fridge, let alone obtain them from somewhere.
“It was supposed to be a celebratory drink for Y/N’s new place,” Maia replied as she set the wine and three various mugs on the coffee table. “Obviously, that’s not happening now.” Drinking wine using the oddly designed mugs you collected over the years was a cry for help. 
“It’s 4 pm, Mai.” You pointed out as you stared at the white LED clock that you bought off Amazon—another impulse purchase enabled from scrolling on Pinterest for way too long. “We haven’t even had lunch yet.” 
“Oh please,” Maia snorted “If there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s drinking with little to no food consumption.” 
“And if there’s one thing that I’ve picked up from university, it’s cancelling all of my plans for the entire day because I have to tend your hungover-self, Mai,” Harrison remarked as he grabbed the bottle and placed it back on the fridge. “I’m ordering food and no one’s drinking until everyone has finished a meal.” 
You heard Maia mutter a string of curses but most especially the part that she said, “This is not the version of daddy that I envisioned Harrison to be.” 
All of a sudden Maia’s idea of binge drinking doesn’t seem like a bad idea, you thought. 
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Turns out Harrison had no intention of letting any of you drink. He was pretty adamant about not having to babysit two drunk messes in one night. 
“As if babysitting one isn’t enough,” You recalled Harrison say. He was obviously pertaining to Maia, in which she just huffed the entire time. You often wondered if Maia and Harrison noticed the obvious tension between them, because personally you found it endearing. It was no question that they were meant for each other. 
“Y/N, you still haven’t told us whatever happened between you and Tom.” Maia suddenly pointed out. You, Maia, and Harrison were still in the living room, silently watching TV. 
You were actively avoiding this conversation for the longest time as you haven’t told anyone about it, and based by the curious faces of your friends, you figured that Tom didn’t tell anyone about it either. You’re still not sure whether that’s a relief or not.  
“There’s nothing to talk about.” You mumbled. It’s not like you were lying, there really was barely anything to talk about. Heck—You and Tom never got to talk about it properly either. 
“We see the way you look at him, Y/N.” Harrison replied softly. “I think there is something.” 
“Look—” Maia sat up properly “I know you’re not really vocal about your feelings, but the fact that you’ve never talked nor showed any emotion about your breakup terrifies me, babe.” Maia’s tone was laced with concern. 
“I remember the day you told us about it too,” Harrison couldn’t hide his concern too “We were having brunch together at our usual diner and half-way through our meal, you promptly said “We broke up” when Maia asked where Tom was,” Harrison recalled it like it was a fever dream. He and Maia had already expected that you weren’t going to tell them about the breakup when it just happened. However, it baffles them that it’s been over a year since you and Tom broke up, and not one word has been said about it. 
It was silent for a while, except for Criminal Minds that was playing on the TV. You blankly stared at the screen, hoping that you’d catch whatever the agents were saying. It was impossible, especially when all your mind could focus on was the recollection of the day Tom knocked on your door at 1 am to breakup.  
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You were relatively busy that day from volunteer work, so you haven’t seen any of your friends the entire day—or Tom for that matter. Actually, you haven’t seen Tom in a few days. He would send texts periodically throughout the day but they were always short and most of the time, you always forget to reply. 
You figured Tom was busy with his own thing and both of you established early on in your relationship that texting—or lack thereof— shouldn’t account to your relationship, especially since both of you are equally bad at it. 
You didn’t think any of it since you were bound to see your boyfriend and your friends tomorrow for brunch anyway. He will have your undivided attention by then. 
So imagine your surprise when you heard a soft knock from your door at 1 am, only to find Tom in disarray. His eyes were bloodshot red, tears falling down his face. His messy curls were masked under the hood from his jumper. 
At first you were in panic, you thought that something terrible had happened to any of your friends—his family even. 
But as soon as Tom dropped to his knees and whispered, “I’m sorry,” you had a clear idea what was bound to happen next. 
It’s been silent for a while. The door was still open and Tom sat out in the hall with his back leaning against your wall. You did the same thing except you were on the other side of the wall that Tom was leaning on. 
You two were close enough to the door frame that you could hear each other, actually facing each other was a whole other thing. Tears kept streaming down your face as you kept your eyes closed and rested your head against the wall. 
At some point in your relationship, you prepared yourself in case this happened— that you would accept whatever happens between you and Tom. You didn’t exactly anticipate that it would happen so soon. 
“Was there someone else?” You asked quietly. It was the first time you spoke after Tom dropped to his knees. You hoped there wasn’t. In fact, you silently begged to yourself that there wasn’t someone else, because you knew that you couldn’t handle that. 
“No, no—of course not.” Tom immediately answers.”I could never do that to you.” 
It was silent again. You were starting to feel numb—you tried your best to gather your thoughts and forced words out of your mouth, but you couldn’t. 
“Are we not worth fighting anymore?” You practically whispered. It was a gamble— you weren’t exactly sure if Tom had heard it and you don’t have enough strength to ask it again. 
“Y/N,” Tom sniffled. “You can’t say that.” He placed his hand on top of yours. You had your hand resting on the floor and you didn’t exactly notice that it served as an invitation for Tom hold it again. 
You love Tom with all your heart. He kept dismissing it but Tom made you a better person. He made you feel like love can be expressed through different forms of things—not just words.
You loved him by exclusively making time for him. You went on museum dates where he would make cheesy remarks, saying that you’re the most remarkable piece of art in the entire place. You went on dates to watch football games—you never understood it but Tom was happy, so you were happy.
You loved him through your touch. You would often massage his back because he had been tirelessly working himself to the core. He didn’t ask for it but you knew it would make him feel better. Your touch didn’t have to be intimate—though you expressed it through that way too
You loved him through mindless actions. Almost every time you would stop by at the local cafe to grab yourself some coffee, you would always recite Tom’s favourite order on autopilot. 
You loved him through silence. Study dates were gems for you. Even if you didn’t talk for the entirety of it and even if you were the only one who studied for the most part and Tom was just playing on his phone, having Tom beside you was enough.
You loved him so much that it pains you to think that maybe you weren’t enough for him. 
“I don’t think I can fight for someone who doesn’t even want to,” You muttered bitterly. “Just answer the question, Tom.” 
He didn’t answer. All you could hear were the silent sobs that you two were trying to hold back. At this point, you knew you wouldn’t look at Tom. Your heart wouldn’t take it—it will crush you. 
“Are you not happy anymore?” Your voice cracked as you broke into a sob.
“Y/N—“ Tom squeezed your hand even more. You’re going to miss it, but you had to let go. 
“Tom, if I’m standing in the way of your happiness then we should end this.” You cleared your throat and pulled your hand away. There’s a ghostly feeling that still lingered from Tom’s touch. 
“Please, Y/N, let me explain—“ 
“It’s okay, Tom.” You whispered. “I understand.” 
“You know I love you, Y/N.” 
“I love you too, Tom.” 
“But—“ 
“But maybe it’s best if we end it, I know. I got it.” You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from crying. “Maybe it’s better if we stayed as friends.” Maybe it’s better to realize that whatever you and Tom had were too good to be true—that your love will never compare to the love he deserves. 
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“Do you want the truth?” You asked your friends, with tears forming in your eyes. You can’t even decipher how they looked at you because of the tears clouding your vision. 
Were they looking at you in pity? Empathy? Sadness? 
“The truth is—I’m mad.” You gritted the words through your teeth. This was the first time your friends had seen you like this. All of the pent-up sadness, aggression, and hurt you felt was starting to get the best of you. 
“I’m angry. I’m hurt.” You snarled, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I’m angry at the fact that I can’t seem to be genuinely happy for Tom. I’m hurt at the idea he seems to be a better boyfriend for Nadine, that he constantly makes an effort for her.”
“I don’t even know if he even loved me the way that I loved him,” Your voice became quiet “and it’s selfish for me to think that way because I never fought for it—for us. That’s enough reason to keep me up at night.” 
That’s enough reason for you to wonder if you’ll be capable of loving someone so deeply again. 
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PERMANENT TAGLIST: 
@quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom @tabi-toast​ 
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Text
Duck, Duck, Grief
The newly reopened wound on Aubrey’s thigh throbs dully as she limps away from the base of the ruined Mt. Kepler and back towards the gate.  She hears a voice in the back of her mind, the sensible one that sounds a lot like Duck, telling her that walking on an injured leg is a bad idea and that she’s only gonna make it worse.  A louder, more vicious voice tells her she deserves it.  This one doesn’t sound like Duck.  She ignores them both and keeps walking.  The night air is cold, numbing her exposed arms and face.  Aubrey is grateful for it.  Having a body feels like an impossible task right now.  Thinking is out of the question, because thinking means acknowledging everything that just happened- 
(gone all gone all gone he’s gone he’s gone it’s all your fault why couldn’t you heal him useless you didn’t even try you told him to leave he was supposed to leave now he’s gone it’s your fault)
-and she wasn’t ready.  Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her ears were buzzing and it was too cold and she couldn’t breathe-
(he’s on the ground his eyes are open he doesn’t see you he isn’t breathing why isn’t he breathing his hands are cold he is never cold he is always warm warm warm warm smile warm laugh cold)
“Miss, are you okay?  Can you hear me?”
There is a voice above her-
(it is not his voice you will never hear his voice again your fault all your fault dead dead dead)
-the voice continues, but it is not talking to her anymore.
“I think she’s in shock-- Oh god, she’s bleeding, oh that’s real bad, aw jeez,” warm hands grip her arms and lift her to her feet.  She doesn’t remember falling to her knees.  That explains why her leg feels like it’s on fire-
(burning burning the house is on fire there is a man in a mask her dad is on the ground burning)
  She is vaguely aware of being half-carried over to an ambulance.  They sit her down, telling her to put pressure on the wound, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.  She does this without comment, cannot open her mouth for fear that the words will come tumbling out and never ever stop.  She does not move.
Duck and Minerva had just finished taking down the abomination and were making their way over to Leo Tarkesian and Dr. Sarah Drake when they saw the top of Mt. Kepler lift into the air, then came crashing back down, shaking the earth and causing the telescope to creak and sway a little, which in all honesty was really terrifying.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Duck yelped as the ground shook with the aftershocks of the mountain’s collapse.  He lost his balance but Minerva grabbed his arm to steady him before he could fall over. 
“Duck Newton You Should Be Careful!  Core Strength Is An Integral Part Of Any Hero’s Skill Set!” She exclaimed cheerfully, clapping a hand onto his shoulder with almost as much force as the mountain’s collapse.
“Thanks Minnie,” he wheezed, rubbing his sore shoulder.  Sarah ran up to them, her eyes wide with shock.
“What the hell just happened to the mountain?” she asked, her face pale with fear.
Duck scratched his head.  “Honestly, Sarah?  I got no earthly idea, but we should probably go find out,” he sighed.  “C’mon, we got a ways to go.”
The group of four made their way across the field towards the parking lot, Minerva still giving Leo a piggyback ride on account of his injuries.  When they reached the front gate, Sarah paused and turned to Duck.  She looked as exhausted as he felt.
Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, “As fun as this has been, I think I’ve just about maxed out my daily limit for weird.  If it’s all the same to y’all, I think I’m gonna head on home.”  She points to him, “Don’t think this means I’m gonna let you off the hook about this, mister.  I expect an explanation.”
He salutes her playfully, “Yes, Ma’am.  I’ll have that report on your desk by Monday.”
She smiles and says, “See ya around, Newton,” before turning and walking into the night.
Duck, Minerva, and Leo do the same, making their way to Duck’s government-issued truck.  He chucks the extra broadsword into the truck bed, slings Beacon back around his waist, and slides behind the wheel exhaustedly.  A part of him waits for Aubrey to call shotgun before remembering with a start that she isn’t with them.  He’s so used to having her and Ned as back up in life threatening situations that their absence right now is disconcerting.  He’s more than a little anxious to see them again; they’d all been so busy with their own situations the past few days that they hadn’t had much of a chance to hang out.
“What A Fine Chariot This Is, Duck Newton,” Minerva booms jovially, slapping the roof of his truck.  There is the distinct sound of crumpling metal.
Duck squints blearily at her as she squeezes into the passenger seat, mentally cycling through the five stages of grief as Minerva buckles her seatbelt.  He turns the key in the ignition and drives out of the parking lot.
… 
The closer they get to Amnesty Lodge, the more nervous Duck gets.  Not for the first time since the whole Sylvain mess started, he resents Kepler’s location in the Radio Quiet Zone.  Usually he didn’t mind not having a cellphone, but right now he would give just about anything to call Aubrey and Ned and make sure they’re okay.  The herd of ambulances and police cars heading towards the Lodge do nothing to quell Duck’s mounting anxiety levels.
His anxiety turns to dread as he turns onto the dirt road leading to the lodge and sees the crowd of townsfolk gathered in front of the gate, an ambulance parked off to the side.  He jerks the truck to a stop and jumps out, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition as he scans wildly for his friends.  Minerva moves to follow him, but he stops her, telling her to watch out for Leo.  Things are complicated enough without throwing an honest-to-fucking-god alien warrior into the mix.
When he finally does see Aubrey’s colorful shock of dyed hair, it is both a relief and an extra source of stress.  A relief because she’s alive, and a source of stress because she’s sitting in the ambulance.
Duck rushes over to her, his heart dropping into his stomach as a list of every worst case scenario runs through his head.  Someone found out about the lodge, someone went through the gate who wasn’t supposed to and went on a rampage, Agent Stern arrested someone, someone got hurt, someone got killed.  At least Aubrey is okay.  And while he doesn’t see Ned anywhere, Duck isn’t too worried about the old guy.  He’d survived ramming into a Pizza Hut sign with a jetpack, as well as the explosion of said jetpack immediately afterwards.  The man was damn near unkillable.  He skids to a stop in front of Aubrey, his momentum almost causing him to crash into the side of the ambulance.  He takes her in, noting the bandage on her leg and the shock blanket around her shoulders.
“Y’okay, kid?”  He asks, “Aubrey?”  She doesn’t respond, doesn’t look at him or even seem to register his presence.  
That’s his first clue that something’s wrong, because he’s seen her like this before, after the whole ordeal with the Pizza Hut sign.  The hollow, haunted expression on her face is nearly identical to the one she’d worn that day.  It scared him then and it scares him now.
“Aubrey,” he repeats her name.  “C’mon kid, ya gotta talk to me.  I just got here, I’m way outta the loop.”  Nothing.  She just keeps staring blankly ahead.  He crouches down in front of her, waving a hand in front of her face to get her attention.  Again, nothing.  Shit.
He stands back up and starts pacing, raking his hands through his hair, “Aubrey!”  He snaps.  The longer she stays unresponsive, the more nervous he gets, “I need you to say something, kid, you’re fuckin’ scaring me!”  Try as he might, he can’t quite keep the panic from bleeding into his voice.
Finally, finally, she looks up at him, and his heart breaks.
Aubrey looks absolutely wrecked.  Her eyes are bloodshot and ringed black with smeared mascara and eyeliner, her face blotchy and tearstained.  Disconcertingly, both her irises are a bright, piercing orange.  Duck figures this is something important, something he should ask her about right away.  He doesn’t, though, because he couldn’t care less about whatever earth-shattering event made Aubrey’s eyes change color.  He doesn’t care about all that world-saving, chosen one stuff, and he never has.  He cares about people, his people, and right now that’s Aubrey and Ned.  They’re the Pineguard, his family, and he would rather die than see them hurt.
“D-Duck,” Aubrey whimpers, her voice fragile like his ma’s best china.  “Duck, I couldn’t…h-he…”  She shatters, then, curling in on herself as she sobs.
“Hey now, uh,” Duck has never been good at comforting people, especially when they’re crying.  But this is Aubrey and she needs him, social anxiety be damned.
He sits down next to her on the tailgate of the ambulance, shifting so that he’s almost facing her, and puts his arms out, “Do you-- Ooph!”  Before he can finish his question, Aubrey collapses against him, sobbing into his shoulder.  Duck freezes for a moment, unsure, before wrapping his arms around her.
“I-It’s all,” she hiccups, “it’s all m-my fault, Duck, I-I couldn’t…”  She dissolves into sobs again, too distressed to continue.  Her shoulders shake with the force of it.
Duck pats her back awkwardly.  “Aw, Aubrey, I don’t know ‘bout that,” he says, “I don’t think-- don’t blame yourself, kid.  I’m sure you did everything you could.”  Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because she starts crying even harder.
He doesn’t know what to say, so he just hugs her tighter instead.  He hates himself a little for that, wishes to god that the words didn't stick in the back of his throat like old gum on the underside of a picnic bench.  Aubrey hiccups, and Duck rubs her shoulders soothingly.  He’s never seen her like this before, never seen her this broken.  Sure he’s seen her cry, seen her upset, but never like this.  Something is very, very wrong, and Aubrey’s clearly in no shape to tell him what, so he scans the crowd for someone who can.
Finally, he makes eye contact with Jake Coolice.  Which, okay, not exactly ideal, except for the fact that he’s standing next to Mama, who’s engaged in conversation with Detective Maygen.  Duck jerks his head towards the matriarch of Amnesty Lodge, hoping Jake picks up what he’s putting down.  The neon-cloaked Sylph looks confused, and he points at Mama and mouths her name in a silent question.  Duck nods emphatically.  Jake smiles and gives him two thumbs up before tugging on the sleeve of Mama’s duster to get her attention.  The older woman turns to Jake, who points in Duck’s direction.  She squares her shoulders, like she’s preparing for battle, and makes her over to the ambulance.  
The first thing Duck notices is how tired she looks.  The second is the blood on her shirt and hands.  
His blood turns to ice in his veins, “What the fuck happened?” he demands, “Are y’okay?”
Mama sighs, her whole body moving with it, “It’s not mine,” is all she says, and her shoulders slump in something a bit too much like defeat for Duck’s taste.
“Whaddya mean, whose is it then?” he asks, panic setting in.
She exhales softly through her nose.  “Duck, honey, I’m real sorry,” she begins, “now I don’t want you blaming yourself for this, ‘cause it ain’t no one’s fault.”  Mama pauses, looking up at the night sky before running a hand down her face.  There is dried blood under her fingernails.
“Whaddya mean, Mama, what happened?  What don’t ya want me blaming myself for?”
She looks pained, “Duck, sweetheart--.”
“No!  Don’t baby me, I aint a fuckin’ kid,” he snaps.  “What. The. Hell. Happened.”
“I-it was Ned.”  The response comes not from Mama, but Aubrey.  She pulls aways from Duck, exhaling shakily and wiping her eyes.
Duck stares at her.  “Whaddya mean, did he get hurt or somethin’?” he asks, pretty sure he already knows the answer to that question and hoping to god that he’s wrong, “Aubrey?”
She shakes her head.  “No, uh,” she takes a shaky breath, “Shit, I can’t do this.  Mama, uh, can you explain, please?”  Her voice trembles as she gives the older woman a pleading look.
Mama gives her a sad smile, “Sure, baby.”
“Thanks,” Aubrey sniffles.  Duck puts an arm around her and she buries her face in his shoulder.
Mama takes a deep breath, “Duck, ya said ya didn’t wanna be babied, so I guess I better just say it outright.  Ned ain't hurt, honey.  I’m so, so sorry, Duck, but he’s dead.  Ned’s dead.”
The words hit him like a punch in the gut, leaving him breathless and gasping.  
That can’t be right, Ned can’t be dead.  Ned ‘Cowardly’ Chicane, the only one of them with any sort of self-preservation instinct, the guy who just the other day had assured Duck that he didn’t need to worry about him getting hurt because he quote-unquote, “knew when to get the hell outta Dodge” was dead?  No way.  This had to be to work of the shapeshifter, or some sick practical joke.  It couldn’t be true, because if it was, it would mean Duck had failed.  It would mean that something happened and he hadn’t been there to take the big hit.  It would mean that Ned had taken the hit instead.  And he can’t handle that.  What’s the point of being the “Chosen One”, the so-called savior of the planet if he can’t keep the people he cares about safe?  
“Duck?”  Mama’s voice cuts through the haze of grief and shock clouding his brain.  He doesn’t respond, “You with us?”
He wants to argue, wants to break down and scream at the injustice of it all.  But he doesn’t, because he’s not the only one grieving Ned’s-- he’s not the only one affected.  Aubrey’s here too, huddled against his side like a barnacle on the hull of a ship.  God, she’s so young, still just a kid, really.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.  She shouldn’t have to deal with this at all, truth be told, but that’s not in the cards.  The least Duck can do is be strong for her.  He’s good at being strong.  So he pushes aside all his grief and anger and self-recrimination, packing them away in a cardboard box in some dusty corner of his mind to deal with later.  Aubrey comes first.
He takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Mama, I’m with ya.”  He runs a tired hand down his face, “What, uh, what happened?”  His voice trembles right at the end.  He clenches his jaw.  
Mama glances ever so slightly at Aubrey.  “I’m fine,” is all the young woman says.  Mama looks to the night sky, as if hoping the stars can tell her how to make this easier.  Whatever she was looking for, it isn’t there and she faces Duck once more.
She does that thing again, squaring her shoulders like she’s getting ready for a fight, “The Abomination, it took Ned’s shape an’ then spilled the beans about everything on television.  The lodge, the gate, Sylvain, all of it.  That’s why all these folks are here,” she gestures to the crowd of townspeople.  
“Ned, he killed it and came down here to try and divert ‘em, send ‘em on a wild goose chase.  It sorta worked, actually, he got rid of about half of ‘em.  He starts talkin’ folks down, tryin’ to get the rest of them to see sense,” she laughs bitterly, “And it mighta even worked, too, ‘cept then the glowing coffin shows up and out pops Dani.  And she’s all feral, completely outta her mind after being separated from the hot springs for so long.”  
Her mouth presses into a thin line.  “And then she, well… She charged these here folks, and Ned, he tackles her.  Thing is, you get a buncha scared folks with guns in one place, well, someone’s bound to get hurt.  And tonight, that was Ned.  He got shot, and by the time the ambulance got here it was too late.  There wasn’t nothing any of us could do,” she looks over at Aubrey when she says that.  “And that’s… that’s the whole story.  I’m sorry,” she gives him a sympathetic look, “Y’alright, Duck?”
Duck says nothing, just nods sharply.  Because how do you respond to something like that?  What do you say when someone’s been ripped from your life and you can’t remember the last thing you said to them?  What do you say?  What can you say that would be enough to encompass the raw, gaping wound that takes the place of your heart, the way your stomach drops, when you think of all the things left unsaid?  What do you say?
As it turns out, “Let’s go home,” is a pretty good start.
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drxwsyni · 3 years
Text
Always, and Forever
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Pairing: Yandere Koushi Sugawara x f!Reader
Synopsis: Koushi has taken care of you for so long, by now it’s something you’ve come to find solace in. And so it pains you to have to part from him on purge night, forced into the outside world in hopes of quelling your lingering embers of desired independence, however that may happen.
a/n: This is my fic for the Yandere Purge AU writing collab, hosted by the Lovesick Discord server! Here’s the link to the m.list where you can read the other fics members have written for this collab! I really didn’t mean for my part to get this long, but alas I have zero self control. 
Thanks you so so so much to @yanderart​ for beta-ing this fic, you literally always work wonders for me while also being the sweetest human being ever. Many kithes for you my dear friend.
9.7k words
Warnings: Dubcon, heavy stockholm syndrome, infantilization, attempted assault (when Daichi makes a brief appearance), injury, depictions of violence, gaslighting, manipulation.
_____
He felt like home.
Koushi’s embrace, his words, his smell―the stability he surrounded you with.
The love he surrounded you with.
You felt light around him. Mind in another place, floating off into feelings of quietude. A swell of comfort bloomed in your chest at the sight of him. His warm and familiar smile, adoration for you shining in his hazel brown eyes. The way his fingers ghosted across your skin, gentle, as if you were made of the most delicate glass, and any move too unintentionally harsh would break you.
It’s why he took such good care of you. Making sure you were safe, out of harm from the dangers of the outside world. Tucked away in his home a small ways away from the outskirts of the city. He held a certain pride to it all―the knowledge that you were protected from all that could ail you, and all because of him.
You doubted that there was anyone else on the planet who would do the same. Who would learn every single little thing about you, know you better than you knew yourself. Nobody else existed that would dedicate so much to making sure you never had to worry your pretty little head over the stresses of everyday life.
There was nobody but Koushi.
As he held you close, your back pressed into his as the two of you lay in bed, it was obvious that he was all that you needed.
His arms wrapped around you, and with the lulling sensation of sleep slowly washing over you like a rising tide, it was easy to melt into his embrace. If you relaxed enough, let your inhibitions escape you, just how he always urged you to do, you might just feel like all is right in your small world with him.
“...You know what day tomorrow is, right?”
But that was why you couldn’t relax.
Koushi keeps you on your toes, biding his time for you to step out of line. He waits patiently, observing, but not compelling you more than normal on any given day. Your lover keeps with routine, fearful that changes will be too much for you to handle. Only, you wish there was a change, anything to stave off the mental consequences that repetitive actions brought.
You couldn’t relax, because even if he felt like home, it was still not your home. You lost that a year ago tomorrow.
...Purge night.
Free reign given to those like Koushi, and for those such as yourself. To have and to hold, or to run free. Two opposing forces in a race against the clock to fulfill their desires.
But you didn’t even make it past the first five minutes.
• • •
Seated on his couch, TV mantled above the fireplace, a warm glow dancing across the room.
You were nervous―painfully so.
That dreaded letter came in the mail. You were selected to be a participant, the government mandated notice read. Unfortunately for you, it didn’t read who you were selected by. It was why you were scared out of your mind, and why you went to the only person who could calm you down.
At his side, his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, Koushi soothingly reassured you that everything would be alright. With his words, low and gentle, softly spoken in your ear. Or with his actions, a welcomingness that you could never refuse. His home being a safe haven, his touch coaxing you to let yourself accept that you had not a single thing to fret about with him.
He offered protection for the night. And you knew that you wouldn’t make it out there by yourself, so of course you obliged.
You obliged when he said to make yourself comfortable, when he offered to put on some music to ease the tension, whatever could assist your shaken soul. Your nerves were quite clearly running rampant― “Nothing a good cup of tea can’t fix.”
Koushi was right, it did wonders for your state, subdued more and more by the second.
Soon, the announcement played across the screen. Words in bold urging caution for some, and sparking adrenaline for many.
For you, things felt...strange.
The task of placing who had signed you up for this dreadful night was mind boggling. You thought to your coworkers, childhood friends, even lingering acquaintances that had entered and left your life in the span of a single day.
Still, nobody came to mind…
Not until the announcement ended.
Or the sirens outside ceased their countrywide alerts.
It wasn’t until you lost the feeling in your limbs, did you know where your mistake lay.
Taking the form of your always caring friend, never the one to leave you unguarded. Constantly checking up on you, ensuring you were looking after yourself. Doing everything he could to take responsibility for all those little things you couldn’t handle, just to lift that extra weight off you.
But really, Koushi didn’t think you could handle anything. Not like he could. Your struggles weren’t something you, a fragile and vulnerable thing, could ever possibly manage. In his eyes, you just weren’t made to take care of yourself.
That’s what he told you as he shut the television off, and as he laid you down on the couch.
He spoke so lovingly, “It’s alright, my sweet girl.”
By then it was too late. You were reduced to being completely defenceless, at risk of quite literally everything.
...That’s not how he saw it, though.
To Koushi, you’d never been safer.
That was the reality―you in his home away from modern dangers. Then, and now still.
• • •
A year had just about gone by. You no longer thought for yourself, for the most part. Koushi tried to force you into a state of complete dependence, and you couldn’t deny that he did a good job of it. You knew this because mostly, your memory was in shambles. From days upon days upon weeks where you let him do all the work, things didn’t really stick. And what significant thing was there to remember in the same laid out and unfaltering routine?
He would always dote on you, not once have you needed to ask him to do so. “It’s my responsibility,” he would repeatedly tell you. It wasn’t your place to fend for yourself―that was his job.
With how thorough he was with that agenda, not letting you slip up for a second without reprimanding you, Koushi had molded your mindset to fit his ideals. A year of reminders, of insisting submission upon you―all serving one purpose.
To make you see, make you understand that he was the only one for you.
But he knew just as much, if not more than you, that still there remained the flickering flames of autonomy. The need for it dim, but its light still a beacon of strength that fueled you to resist him.
Koushi waited for an answer, an acknowledgement to his question that no doubt stirred conflict in your mind.
Your hands gripped the bedsheets, a seed of dread planted in your chest. Just slightly, you nodded your head in confirmation. Of course you knew what tomorrow was.
The day where, only because it’s illegal not to do so, those like you were given a chance at freedom. To make up for failing last year, and to obtain that independence you once held.
You didn’t even know if you completely wanted it though...
Behind you, Koushi pulled you closer into him. Carefully, he leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss against your temple. His hand intertwined with yours, giving it a small squeeze.
And nothing more was said on the matter.
_____
You woke up in his arms, a safe cocoon under the sheets with the morning daylight seeping through the cracks of the closed blinds. Of course, Koushi was already awake.
Sometime throughout the night, you shifted into your current position―head resting on his chest, arm thrown over his torso. You sighed happily as you were met in your waking state with the feeling of his hand on your waist, holding you against him as he thumbed the soft and nightgown clothed skin soothingly, a repeated back and forth.
His morning voice always made you feel different. A little raspy, but still coated in his loving tone, creating butterflies in your stomach. “Mornin’, pretty girl.”
Still wrapped in the comfort of a post sleep haze, you nuzzled your face into his chest. “Mmmn...mornin’.”
If you were looking at him, you’d be able to see his expression that was practically dripping in admiration. You might find his tiredly intimate words and motions endearing, but he found that of yours to be nearly enough to stop his heart.
Really, everything you did had that effect.
...It was a shame he’d have to go without it later tonight.
For now however, he’d let you sleep in. It was the weekend after all, and you needed your beauty rest. That, and he wasn’t about to ruin this moment by discussing the inevitable.
_____
Neither of you had yet to speak of what was soon to come, but that didn’t matter. Not when, even from the moment he got you out of bed, that reality was already having an influence on your day.
Normally, Koushi would opt to dress you in something a little more delicate. He liked the sight of you in a silken nightgown, an earthy pale pink, or pastel blues. Something to represent how fragile he thought you to be. Of course, it was never a practical outfit. But you had nowhere you needed to be, remaining inside his home your only job.
This morning's upgrade of a real dress, one with pockets, double lined and long sleeve, was the first reminder of tonight’s main event. All in all, it was pretty. You liked it, you were grateful for it.
But it only made your chest tighten, an indescribable hint of trepidation taking hold of your being.
The day goes on, you once again settling into routine. It wasn’t hard doing so, especially since now you’ve grown used to how unwavering it is. You actually find it quite nice.
If you forced yourself to step outside of your adopted headspace, it was just barely possible to pinpoint when you became this docile. When the rules Koushi had both mentally and physically beat into you became automatic actions. Or, when they didn’t seem like rules, but more so guidelines for a healthy routine that you genuinely wanted to complete.
Because you did feel healthy. You got plenty of sleep, since you always went to bed when he told you to. You had a balanced diet, because even though Koushi was busy with work, he always managed to prepare you a proper meal. You felt at peace, because you forgot why you were here in the first place.
So, separating from that compliance, and forcing yourself to remember your reality―you’d say it’s been roughly three months since you started to enjoy living with Koushi. And now that you’ve memorized the routine he’s set up for you, you know that when he sits you down on the couch, while he remains standing in front of you before speaking―these are special circumstances.
It’s just after dinner, a little past 5 o’clock. He has yet to help you switch into your evening routine, which normally consists of giving you a task such as reading or drawing to pass the time, until you have to get ready for bed.
You know that he’s looking down at you, but you can’t bring yourself to return his gaze. When you caught a glimpse of it, it only stirred anxiety inside of you. He wasn’t tense. He wasn’t upset. He seemed...casual.
Too casual for the conversation you were about to have.
“I know this is stressful for you, sweetheart. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
Your hands are folded on your lap, nails digging into the skin in an attempt to distract you from the developing worry encasing you.
Much to your dismay, Koushi crouches down in front of you, a hand placed gently atop your knee. Like an adult trying to get on the level of a child, which honestly is what he makes you feel like sometimes when he speaks in such a soft tone. It forces you to look him in the eyes.
He’s right―you could always say no.
Mandatory by law, those like you who are bound to your ‘lover’ by their legal ownership over you must be given a chance to regain independence. However, you’re completely within your rights to deny the offer. Of course, this would mean that for another year you would be stuck with them.
The problem is, many of the individuals who deny the offer no longer find it as being stuck.
You don’t know what you would define it as.
What you do know is that if you go, the odds of making it out with that sense of freedom aren’t very encouraging. Your stamina is all but entirely depleted, given how the most activity you get is by walking throughout the house to either the bathroom, living room or kitchen.
On top of that, you have zero clue where you’d go. Being in the same spot for a year hasn’t exactly done anything for your sense of direction, or your understanding of the city’s layout. And the last time you went outside, the most you saw was the same view from the living room’s window.
Because you only got about ten feet from the back door before Koushi caught you.
That experience didn’t give you anything to help you in trying your hand at tonight’s offer. In fact, it only made things more difficult. The mere thought of what had ensued after he dragged you back inside his home was immobilizing.
It was likely the very reason as to why deciding if you wanted to attempt to leave Koushi was so debilitating. When even thinking of taking a single step outside struck fear into your core.
...
You should say no.
But of course, things would never be that simple. Not now at least.
Those embers of resistance still burned inside of you. Albeit dangerously fleeting, you could just barely recall the indulgences of your past life. A time where you still held that independence, when you could choose to do things for yourself. Small things you took for granted, like fast food or staying up late and binging shows―while the memories were clouded, you could still recognize the feeling they gave you.
Of warmth, or of the mindless pleasure that you used to never think twice about seeking.
A pang of guilt shot through you, realizing how selfish you were for wanting to leave Koushi over that. He’d been so good to you, making sure you barely had to lift a finger. Yet here you were, yearning for things that would only do you harm, a fact he’d repeated countless times in the early days of living with you.
But, tonight was the only night of the year when you got to be a little selfish. The prospect of earning those little independent privileges was strangely like fuel to the nearly burnt out fire of your lingering resistance.
You looked back at the grey haired man, still calmly awaiting an answer.
“N-no, no...I want to do this, I think…”
And there was that smile again, all too soft and gentle for what you could only guess was some well contained detestment for your words. He looked understanding, and to anyone else the way he regarded you would be endearing.
What a loving boyfriend….
If only they knew.
With that, he let you remain on the couch, waiting patiently for his return while he moved momentarily into another room. Soon he returned, and for the first time in a whole year, he let you watch television that wasn’t dumbed down animated shows, or wholesome animal documentaries.
Koushi put on the news, or more specifically, the countdown broadcast to the purge.
_____
You could almost laugh at how rattled simply watching the news made you. It would be amusing, accept your heart was beating too fast, mind racing with worrying thoughts to realize the irony of the situation.
This night was supposed to be your only chance of gaining legal custody of your own independence. You should be beaming. Yet here you were, anxiously bouncing your leg, bottom lip between your teeth as the announcer went on with scripts of how people across the country were preparing for when 6 pm hit.
And Koushi, the one who should be stressed with the possibility of you slipping out of his grasp―he was doing fine.
For the most part, at least.
Sure, a small hint of dread for the highly, and he means highly, unlikely was present in the back of his mind. But Koushi knew you. He knew every single little thing that made you who you were.
Of course he did, he loved you after all.
So that flicker of dread remained almost nonexistent. Because he also knew how this night would end, and that was more than enough to calm his nerves.
Unconsciously, you leaned into Koushi’s side. He was seated right next to you on the middle of the couch. An arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your left hand in his and placed on his lap, his fingers not so absentmindedly drawing soothing circles into your skin.
You didn’t see, but his eyes never left your troubled and practically shaking form.
He felt bad for taking pride in the sight.
It meant that you were terrified of leaving him. And you should be, it was so dangerous out there. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself, it’s why he did it for you. So, seeing this proof that in less than ten minutes, you’d be going out into the night alone, had you shivering in fear―it only told him that what he was doing was right.
Yes, it did hurt him to see you so distressed, but you needed to learn your place.
Which was next to him, always.
And when he thought about it, this is how his lessons always went. Koushi would never hurt you unless you deserved it. Unfortunately for you, you tended to do a lot of things that warranted punishment. And he was eager to help you see things his way. Tonight was no different.
You’d never be in any real danger.
He’d never go as far as to permanently damage you in any way.
If you deserved the punishment, then he should be allowed to have a little fun with it.
Both of you were brought out of your respective intense thoughts as the room was bathed in red. The television screen, now vibrantly pigmented in the colour, began playing the annual emergency broadcast, alarms blaring from the speakers.
Koushi saw how you flinched, and like the loving person he was, he reached for the remote to turn down the volume. You were still shaking like a leaf, stare fixated on the bolded words rolling across the screen.
In an attempt to console you, Koushi gently moved a hand onto your shoulder, urging you to lean back into him. Your heart skipped a beat as he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, lingering there for a moment.
He spoke in a delicate whisper, just loud enough that it would drown out the automated announcer from the last broadcast to be had tonight. “...Shhh, you’re alright sweetheart.”
Unconsciously, you nodded with his affirmation, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.
Information continued to dance across the screen. You would have twelve hours, starting at 6 pm, which was in two minutes, to do whatever you needed to obtain your ideal outcome. So would those opposite of you in nature, which didn’t exactly help your chances of fighting for your freedom.
A myriad of other rules and such were listed, most of them being useless to you. It was more so meant for those of the bolder type. What weapons you could use, who you could injure, and how far you could take things.
You didn’t want to hurt anybody. You just wanted to go back to how things were before naively falling for Koushi’s trap―or at least that’s what you thought. The whole decision still felt a little cloudy in your mind, even now.
Abruptly, the television stopped it’s recount of the mandatory notice. The red returned to black, because for one, there was nothing more to and. And, because Koushi had turned off the TV, the resounding click bringing you back to reality.
Neither of you moved as the countrywide sirens rang out. The fixed speakers outside sounded off, letting everyone who wasn’t tuning into the news segment that finally, the purge had begun.
Your gaze remained fixed on the floor, feeling like it was taking an eternity for the roaring noises to cease. Eventually they did, leaving you and Koushi with the silence of the living room, the hushed sounds of a crackling fireplace being the only thing to meet your ears.
Naturally, he has to do everything for you. And, naturally, he doesn’t mind.
“C’mon, sweet girl.”
Carefully, so as not to scare you more than you already clearly were, Koushi pulled you off the couch. Not moving too quickly, he kept your hand held firmly in his as he led you to the front door.
You couldn’t remember the last time you got this close to the entrance. His various methods of reprimand doing wonders to keep you from drawing near it. Sometimes, even looking at the door was something you feared.
But now, here you were, standing right in front of it.
You followed Koushi’s movements, your hand falling at your side as he released it to begin undoing the excessive amount of locks.
Not excessive to him of course, anything to keep his perfect little girl safe.
The quiet beeping of the door’s alarm was the only thing to be heard aside from the noise of your heart beating in your chest, the sound reverberating in your skull. Then came the manual locks, Koushi’s hand reaching into his pocket to grab the keyring.
With each lock coming undone, your mindset continued to spiral.
You can’t do this. It’s too much to handle. You have no clue where to go, or where to hide.
And the comfort that he provides―you really do like it.
How he touches you, tender and lovingly, able to feel with every movement how much he cares for you. When he wraps you in his arms, that familiar and comforting smell that’s so undeniably Koushi sedating those thoughts at unease. He speaks to you, always saying the right things, so softly.
You realized that lately, there was nothing to worry about with him.
But you would lose all you earned the second you stepped out of his home.
Yet, as he finishes with the locks and turns back to you, it doesn’t feel like you’ll lose anything.
Not as in, once you leave, his presence will be gone, and that you’ll never have to experience it after you make it out of this night with your freedom.
Rather, once you fail, he’ll be waiting, ready to snuff out those pangs of anguish you’re feeling right now, just like he always does. That kind of comfort didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
The thought alone was enough to quell many of your concerns.
Koushi stepped towards you, his hands reaching for you, finding their destination in gingerly cupping your face. Nervously, your eyes flitted from his frame to the door’s handle.
The man in front of you sighed slightly, taking in the details of your expression. The furrow of your brows, how you had trouble focusing on any one thing while a plethora of thoughts raced through your mind.
He liked knowing how much this was bothering you. Showing that at the end of the day, you were more dependent on him than you realized.
Koushi was the first to speak, you tensing at the startling noise.
“I’m not forcing you to do this, sweetheart. You know you don’t have to go out there.”
He studied you intently, and you felt the urge to shrink from his focused gaze. It would be so easy to just stay home. To curl up with Koushi in front of the fireplace, relax into his arms as the night went by.
But as you looked back to the unlocked door once more, you knew that wasn’t an option.
“I do have to, I’m sorry…”
You didn’t know if you were apologizing to him, or to yourself.
Koushi smiled, a thumb momentarily caressing your cheekbone before pulling away.
“Well, then―I’ve got something for you.” His hand once again fished around in his pocket before pulling out the object in question.
Your eyes landed on it immediately―a burner phone.
It was simple, a black flip phone, old model and with little use aside from calls and texts that took far too long to type out on its inconvenient keyboard.
Koushi stood next to you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he flipped the device open. The artificial glow of the screen illuminated your face while he held it open for you to observe.
“My number is on speed dial, just press here―” he went through the motions slowly, letting you follow the steps he was taking, “―and you’ll be able to call whenever you need me.”
Slowly you nodded, amazed at the prospect of using an electronic, even an ancient one. You hadn’t touched a phone in so long.
Koushi slipped the device into the pocket of your dress, choosing to face you once again. This time he gripped your shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze to grab your attention. “If you can’t handle being out there, promise that you’ll call me.”
For the first time this night, you looked him in the eyes. Those full of compassion and care, you not knowing the feelings they hid from you.
“...I will, Koushi.”
A moment of silence lingered in between the two of you, and before you could make any first move, his lips were softly connecting with yours.
An action full of devotion, you had no choice but to melt into it. Because now, it no longer caused discomfort to eat away at your system, but the exact opposite.
When his lips parted from yours, instead of immediately letting go, Koushi pulled you into his embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist, your head settling into the crook of his neck.
You finally realized that there had been tears slipping down your cheeks this whole time.
His voice sent shivers down your spine, spoken against the shell of your ear. “I love you, so much…”
Your hands gripped his shirt tightly in response.
“...But, you won’t stand a chance out there.”
An odd choice of words, while although it did send an icy fear throughout your body, it still made you want to go out there and prove him wrong.
Whether or not he realized that fact was beyond you.
Koushi pulled away, not before pressing a final kiss on your cheek. His hand reached for the doorknob, turning, and swinging it open.
The cold air of the evening hit your body, the sun rapidly setting on the horizon. It brought about a new sense of coldness to go along with that which was stirred by your anxieties. Breaking your attention away from the outdoors that lay just a few feet away, Koushi voiced his plans.
“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll give you an hour as a head start, sound good?”
Silently, because you couldn’t form the words to make a response with an impossible lump in your throat, you nodded. But you still remained in place.
Waiting for his permission.
He smiled at your expectant behaviour.
Koushi waved a hand, gesturing to the outdoors. “...Go on, now.”
Hesitantly, still greatly unsure of your own decision, you did as he said. Feeling almost light, with your body seemingly moving on its own, you stepped through what, up until now, was a forbidden threshold.
The breeze in the air made your dress flow, the feeling of the forceful chill against the bare skin of your legs a foreign sensation after all this time. You could hear the sounds of crickets chirping in the grass, many living past the tree-line of the forest surrounding his home.
The sun was what you were least expecting.
Just barely managing to peek through the mostly overcast sky, its intense rays landed upon your skin. You could feel its heat, a warmth contrasting the fall temperatures. Tilting your head up slightly, you closed your eyes to bask in its natural gift.
But as soon as it came, the sensation was gone.
The sky fully clouded over, leaving you in the cold, and in a darkness threatening to grow worse as each second ticked by. Still battling an inner turmoil to go through with your wants, you turned around to face Koushi one last time.
Still at the front entrance, he was bathed in the inviting warm light coming from inside the house. He made no more moves to sway you in any which direction. Instead, he simply stood in the doorway, casually leaning against it with his hands in his pockets.
That’s when it dawned on you.
You were wasting time.
No wonder he was so calm. Letting you spend precious seconds getting nowhere.
Your eyes met his. Koushi gave you that signature smile that suddenly wasn’t so comforting.
And then, you were gone.
_____
Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest, desperate gulps of air entering and exiting your already exhausted system. Previous calculations on the few strengths you’d have going for you, and the many weaknesses holding you back were correct.
After less than two minutes of running, you already had to reduce yourself to a walking pace.
Your limbs felt increasingly strained at the sudden exertion, calves aching and lungs burning. Once you slowed down and your wits returned, you noticed the particularly painful sensation in your feet.
Koushi failed to give you proper shoes for the night's events, instead leaving you in your fairly thin lined slippers that now weren’t even good enough to keep out the chill.
Or perhaps, he did that on purpose?
Those facts didn’t quite matter at the moment. You had finally reached the edge of the city, making good time as you didn’t have the need to make it there under the cover of the forest. A quick glance at your burner phone would tell you that you still had fifteen minutes of free time, so there was no problem being out in the open as you took to the road to reach your destination.
The stretches of trees were replaced with encroaching buildings, starting out small and changing into impressive structures as you ventured further into the city.
Overall, it was quiet. Aside from a few stray pieces of litter blowing in the wind, there was nobody out on the streets aside from yourself. Really, many people didn’t have a reason to be out. Not everyone had someone to be running from, or oppositely, had someone to be running after. If you didn’t fall into either of those two categories, then you had no reason not to stay inside.
After all, getting in someone’s way could mean risking your life.
This constant and looming reality, that the only reason why you were out was because of these special circumstances―it didn’t exactly make you feel any better.
Even as you caught your breath, your heart remained beating rapidly inside your chest. Your feet stumbled awkwardly along the sidewalk, wincing with each shot of pain that ran up your legs.
You only paused when your eyes landed on red and bolded graffiti on the side of a boarded up shop.
“KNOW YOUR PLACE.”
However, you failed to understand what that was anymore.
The sudden noise of a shrill scream sounding from some indiscernible place brought you startlingly out of your focus on the graffiti. The noise bounced off of the brick walls of buildings around you. Your head whipped from side to side, trying to understand where it was coming from.
Only, it felt like the screams were all around you.
Your hands were clenched into tight fists, nails indenting crescent moons into the skin of your palms. The wails lasted for a mere five or so seconds, but it felt like minutes with how your distress was only amplifying your panicked reaction.
In that state of immense internal torment, you unable to think of any one decision for yourself, your body once again acted on it’s own. Fight or flight senses kicking in, favouring the latter, you bolted away from what you were most sure was the best direction away from the screaming.
Really it was all you could do. Staying in one spot, frozen with fear that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, wouldn’t do a single thing for you. Even if you didn’t know the exact destination of your travels, all you knew was that you had to put as much distance as possible between you and Koushi’s home.
So you ran, only to once again forget just how ill equipped you were.
The street lights went by in a blur, wind whipping past you. The first bead of sweat trickled down your face as you willed yourself to keep moving. Not even a minute in and you were slowing to a stop, leaning against the side of a building.
You could’ve passed out right then and there, with the weight of your exhaustion, and your weakening mindset crashing down on you. But if you stopped, you knew that you’d likely never be on the winning side of this night.
Still trying to catch your breath, you used this time to pull out your burner phone. Flipping the small device open, you winced at the bright and artificial glow that you were so unaccustomed to, especially in the darkening light of the evening.
Your eyes landed on the clock, front and center of the compact screen.
7:00 pm.
The head start was up.
_____
A quiet playing of jazz music lingered in the background of the kitchen, the pinks and oranges of a setting sun behind the clouds casting part of the room in a warm hue. Methodically, and humming to himself, Koushi was drying the dishes from the dinner he had with you, fondly recalling how breathtaking you looked in your new dress.
He took a quick glance at the clock after putting the last cleaned dish in the cupboard, making sure to lock the small door shut. The device mounted on the wall told him it was nearing quarter to eight.
Expectantly, his phone rang in his pocket, him not even needing to look at the caller ID before answering. Especially not when the voice on the other line spoke before he could even get a word out.
“You still need me for tonight?”
Koushi slung the cup towel over his shoulder, leaning against the granite countertop. “Daichi, I’d really appreciate the help if you’re still up for it. I understand if you can’t though―”
“You had my back last year, the least I can do is return the favour.”
Softly, Koushi laughed a little to himself, remembering how frustrated his friend was, unable to control his other half.
He nodded, gazing out the window as he spoke. “Well then, do you remember what I said or should we go through it again?”
On the other line, he heard some indistinct rustling, paying to mind to it. “That’s alright, I know how important this is to you. Couldn’t forget it even if I tried.”
That brought a chuckle out of both of them, Daichi continuing soon after.
“I’ll get going then, gotta handle a few things first.”
This time, Koushi could make out the distinct noise of a car trunk slamming shut. Meaning his friend was already on his way to set up.
“...Of course. Thanks again, by the way.”
He heard what sounded like keys jingling, “No problem, talk to you later.”
With that, Koushi ended the call. Phone still on, he was left to look at the last app he had open, the screen still giving him live information by the second. Satisfied with what he saw, he excited the tracking software, swiftly pocketing the phone.          
Grabbing the still somewhat full wine glass on the countertop, Koushi made his way to the living room. Relaxing into the couch with a relieved sigh, he resigned himself to a waiting game, knowing it’d only be so long until he had you back, safe and wrapped in his arms.
Just where you should be.
_____
There weren’t many options: either hide in the shadows, and be at risk for unsuspected attacks, or remain in the safety of the street lights, exposed to any and all onlookers. Looking over your shoulder, not quite eyeing any one thing that meant certain danger, you chose the latter.
When the screams around you finally died down, fading into the background as you left it in the dust behind you, the sound of a distant rumbling came to the forefront. With a quick glance up, you could see that, even in the dimming light of the evening, the clouds above were growing thicker. Darkening and swirling in the sky, you knew that soon a storm would be upon you.
As the earthy aroma of approaching rain permeated your senses, your heart longed for the comfort back home. If it weren’t for that nearly indescribable need to keep moving away from Koushi, you’d be back there. Probably relaxing on the couch, a sedating melody coming from the record player. Another perfect Saturday night spent in your lovers presence.
You could practically feel the heat of the fireplace on your face if you focused hard enough.
However, that heat wasn’t coming from such a sanctuary, one who knows how many kilometers away by now. Rather, from the burning building in front of you.
Snapping out of that reminiscent trance, you came to an abrupt stop. Squinting a bit at the bright and flaming scene, you could just barely discern that the building was a police station.
The sight only brought a small quirk to your lips, knowing how useless they were to those like you.
Turning away from the building, you trained your goals on moving in the same direction, fearful of getting turned around and accidentally heading back towards home. Things once again fell into silence, only the sound of a looming and encroaching storm meeting your ears every ten minutes or so. Fatigue had set in long ago, leaving your steps sluggish, fighting every muscle in your body to keep up a consistent pace. Even if you weren’t moving fast, you were still moving.
Except, that too grew nearly impossible to reasonably manage.
The further you walked, the more disturbing sights you came upon. It seemed like all at once, things were hitting the fan. Corrupt scenes unfolding around you being horrifying to no ends.
Exiting an alleyway, the first thing you saw was a man stuffing a body into the trunk of a car. You couldn’t tell who the person was, or whether they were even alive. But those details weren’t remotely feasible, as the perpetrator caught you in his gaze.
Seeing your frozen stature, face riddled with fear, he only laughed to himself.
You were no threat to the claims of the night, so he dismissed you with ease. Leaving you in his wake as he drove off, you stayed put for an unknown amount of minutes.
The terrifying truth of what you were was unavoidable, and damn near immobilizing. Weak in everyone’s eyes, often your own included.
At some point you found the will to start moving again, only to soon pause for a breather. Mostly to ground yourself, you checked the time on your temporary phone.
It read just half past nine. In normal circumstances, you’d be in bed; or getting ready for bed, at the least. As a few droplets began falling from the now pitch black sky, you longed for safety under the covers of your bed. Bundled in soft blankets, a dry nightgown, and the soothingly mellow voice of Koushi next to you. Every night, without fail, he’d always remind you of how much he loved you, helping you fall fast asleep under the calmness he provided.
A shiver wracked your body, heart aching for his safety. Your finger hovered over the call button, one movement away from being scooped up by your saviour.
Your body was jolted out of the thought before you could bother with such a surrender.
Someone―a young girl, maybe in her early twenties, desperately clutched the sleeves of your dress. She looked up at you, expression riddled with a bone chilling dread. “Please help me! He’s...he’s trying to―”
Yet, just as she was about to finish, another set of hands painfully grasped your shoulders. A split second later and you were being thrown into the side of a building.
A man was yelling at you, quite loudly at that. Or maybe he was yelling at the girl―with the way you were sobbing, panic shutting down your better senses, it was too hard to tell. You couldn’t quite hear any one thing, the world falling into silence as the anxieties resting in your system spiked violently.
Your brain didn’t even register that you had bolted into a sprint. Not until, sheerly because your body couldn’t handle taking another step until you gave it at least a little break, you stopped, almost falling to your knees with how drained you were. Barely, you managed to keep yourself upright by leaning against a lamp post.
In that moment, there was only one thing going through your mind.
You wanted to go home.
Koushi’s home, which just as much belonged to you as it did him. That’s where you were meant to be. Not out here, by yourself in the middle of the night, rain coming down around you. Even if it was light, the slight dampness in your clothing had you convulsing in cold bodied trembles.
The phone was still clutched tightly in your hand. You knew what you needed to do.
And as the noise of gunshots rang out in the direction you came from, your plans shifted to do just that.
Shaken to your core, you shuffled into an alleyway. Seeking the refuge of a shelter to make that fated call, you blindly ventured deeper into the narrow passage. The saving grace that were streetlamp lights disappeared behind you, remnants of its glow doing little to help you see where you were going.
Doing nothing to help you see the trap you were walking directly into.
All at once, your knees buckled under you, a net you had stepped into lurching upwards. A shriek escaped your being as the intertwined rope cased around you, hoisting you into the air. Suspended only five five or so feet off the ground, the height wasn’t what sent terror coursing through your veins.
It was the fact that you were trapped, no amount of struggling enough to free you. And, because your phone had slipped out of your hand, through the holes of the net, and onto the pavement beneath you.
Out of reach, leaving you helpless to the whims of your sudden captor.
Just like that, the repeated calling for your lover spilled from your lips. Petrified in every sense, you wailed for Koushi to come and save you. Pleading cries for help were repeated until your throat grew hoarse. You only stopped when you physically couldn’t catch your breath.
But even that ceased as well, when a tall figure came into view.
You blearily wiped away the wetness pooling in your eyes, body uncomfortably folded by the sinch of the net as what looked to be a man stalked towards you.
“...Little things like you really shouldn’t be out on a night like this.”
As he drew closer, you could make out the short cut of his hazelnut hair, chiseled features, a broad frame shielded from the downpour by a waterproof jacket. Slowly, the stranger leaned down, picking up your fallen burner phone.
A small whimper escaped you, “Please…”
The deep baritone of his voice shook you as he spoke, “What, looking for this?” Mockingly, he waved the flimsy device back and forth, just out of arm's reach from you. He lowly chuckled to himself at the severely distraught look you gave him, and at the lifeline that was your phone.
The phone that, taking it in both hands, he snapped in half with ease.
Eyes blown wide, you watched in silent horror as the man tossed the unusable device aside, the noise of it clattering to the ground bouncing off the walls of the alleyway. Before you could even register what had happened, what was going to happen, the man was right in front of you.
You couldn’t even think of what to do or say as his hand reached through an opening in the net, harshly gripping your jaw and forcing you to face him.
His lips were pulled into a small and menacing grin, unspoken notions of his intentions laced into the way he regarded you as prey. A quiet hum resonated from him, scanning your features intently. Not before turning your head to the side ever so slightly, seemingly confirming what he already knew, he spoke up once again.
“...No wonder he loves you.”
The glint of a pocket knife flashed before your eyes, and a second later you were crashing to the ground. With the ropes holding you up now severed, the net fell down around you. As soon as you could stretch out your limbs, you were mindlessly scrambling away.
Your better intuitions were completely clouded over, escape once again being the only thing your body could try to achieve.
“Stop fucking struggling.” The words met your ears as an iron grasp wrapped around your ankle, roughly dragging you back to that spot a few feet away from your position, where you’d only just crawled from.
The assailant flipped you onto your back, “What the hell are you gonna do anyways? You’re not made to fight people like me off.” Strangled sobs left your system as he settled in between your legs, his hand gripping your throat. “I could snap your bones like a fucking twig, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.”
You attempted to sputter out a response, anything to deter the man who was unashamedly handling your much weaker body. Yet, the second your lips parted, a sharp sting bled across your cheek.
“What a dumb little girl you are―dumb enough to walk right into an obvious trap.”
As the glint of a blade returned, you could do nothing but lay there as the sharp edge ripped through the fabric of your dress. The front of it fell open, leaving your bare chest exposed to his eyes, save for the bra being the only thing to defend you.
You didn’t see the knife disappear, only knowing it had gone somewhere when his now free hand groped your breast.
“I mean, what the fuck did you think was going to happen coming out tonight?” The man above you laughed to himself, knowing you were too scared out of your mind to respond.
Meaning his orders were playing out as expected.
The grip on your throat tightened, leading you to space out as he continued the one sided and condescending conversation. “I bet you could’ve avoided this too. Poor thing―too stupid to get out of her own way.”
The pleading request repeated over and over in your mind, but you couldn’t force yourself to speak it. As another smack collided with your cheek, hearing going out in the ear that was affected by the force, those spiralling thoughts got worse, a nauseating feeling rolling in your stomach.
Pleasepleaseplease just stop.
All you wanted was to go home. You should’ve never left. You should’ve never tried to leave Koushi.
Why would you ever want to do that?
Finding yourself growing lightheaded, unable to take in enough oxygen to keep yourself conscious, you felt something inside of you disappear.
If you could describe it, the sensation would be like a sudden dislodge. Relieving, a weight on your body, one that wasn’t caused by a man pressing into you, vanishing entirely.
You still didn’t feel calm, system remaining corrupted with a near crushing fright in your drifting state. But whatever familiar sense of trepidation you once suffered from was now gone.
Hands falling limp at your sides, exhaustion finally getting the better of you as you no longer had it in you to fight off the stranger choking you out, your eyelids fluttered shut. You didn’t want to stop struggling, to give up against this seemingly unstoppable force, but you didn’t have much choice, did you?
Only, a violent and haggard fit of coughs spewed from you as the suffocating force pinning you down disappeared.
Breath quick, your intake and outtake of much needed air stuttering, you heaved weakly against the wet pavement. The first thing that flooded your senses was the patter of the rain hitting the ground around you. Then, it was the feeling of that rain landing on the skin of your face. Cold and cooling, easing the burning ache of your cheeks that had been repeatedly battered just moments ago.
As your eyes closed to bask in the relieving sensation, the droplets against you left, yet still the sound of rain falling down around you remained.
Upon opening your eyes, a swell of emotions ran over you. Tufts of grey hair hung above you, a deeply worried expression of the man you loved regarding your worn out and still shaking form.
“...K-Koushi?”
If it weren’t for the rain, both of you would know full well that the water streaming down your face wasn’t from the night’s downpour. But the hitch in your voice, the tremble in your lower lip―both served as clear displays of the anguish you experienced.
His hands cupped your face, gentle as always, especially now so as not to put pressure on the tender skin. Even with the commotion of the storm beating down around the two of you, his voice was as clear as day.
“I’m right here, pretty girl.”
_____
The silence that the sanctuary of Koushi’s home, your home, brought about was like balm to your oversensitive state. It wasn’t a deafening silence, per se. Because here and there, it still carried symphonies of the outside world, while the world right at your fingertips brought ones of safety inside such sturdy walls. Whether it be the muffled noises of overhead thunder, or the soothing sounds of rippling water as your fingers danced mindlessly underneath its surface.
The heat of the freshly drawn bath was doing wonders for your strained muscles, now feeling limp in Koushi’s arms as he held you from behind. With a deep sigh, lungs still burning from previous exertion, you leaned into him. It was easy to melt into the secondary warmth he provided, your partially bruised back pressing into his chest.
With the night’s activities washed from your bodies, you needed only to bask in the presence of the man you once feared you lost. The shift from one extreme to another, immobilizing terror to heart wrenching relief―nothing had ever made your head spin faster.
Now, while you let the humidity of the bathroom seep into your skin, the sweet scent of body wash meeting your senses, the invisible weight of guilt remained burning. Your eyebrows stayed knitted, a look of worry that Koushi couldn’t see.
But little did you know, he knew it’s what you felt. He knew everything about you, right down to the last little detail. So he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when your meek voice broke through the silence, spoken in a volume just barely above a whisper, purely because your vocal cords were shot from when he heard you calling for him only an hour ago.
“...I really am sorry, Koushi.”
He wrapped his arms around you tighter, thumb running back and forth against the bare skin of your arm. “If you’re sorry, then you’ll let me take care of you. No more messing around.”
...
It’s not that you didn’t want to let Koushi do as he pleased, it was that you didn’t know why he wished to do it in the first place. Even after all the time he’d spent devoted to tending to your every last need, the reasons as to why he did so could never quite stick.
You never asked him for any of this. He just assumed the role of your caretaker without batting an eye. It was obvious he cared about you, but still you had issues accepting his motivation for it.
Letting out a shaky breath, you spoke once again. “I just...I don’t understand why you want to so badly. It doesn’t make any sense, and―”
“I do it because I’m in love with you, isn’t it obvious?”
The playfulness in his questioning tone didn’t go unnoticed, but it still didn’t exactly calm all of your anxieties. At least, not until he continued with his speech, his actions following up with affirmations.
Your head rested against his shoulder as his hands wandered, mapping out the sensitivities of your body, starting where they rested near your chest.
“I have been since the moment I laid eyes on you, sweetheart…”
When his hands found purchase on your waist, tenderly squeezing the plush skin, you harshly sucked in a breath of air. He kneaded the tense muscles of your body, speaking low, but still sending shivers down your spine at it’s proximity.
“All of your little quirks, your gentleness, how delicate you are...You’re so impossibly perfect.”
Pausing, Koushi pressed a light kiss against your temple, “...Of course I want to take care of you.”
With each word spoken, every syllable filled with innate devotion, your mind of worrying thoughts surrendered to him. Not given much choice in the matter, and not wanting to choose any alternative if there was one, you let his admiration slowly consume you whole.
“I wanna make sure nobody can hurt you, make sure you get what you deserve…”
Koushi’s hands drifted lower, deft fingers lightly trailing your body, teasing touches only serving to stir another type of heat inside you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him cup your heat, middle finger gently pressing in between your folds.
“...And, that you get what you need.”
You softly whimpered as the pads of his fingers came into contact with your clit, the exhaustion you felt amplifying your sensitive nerves. Applying just the right amount of pressure, and in the perfect spot that had you yearning for more, Koushi skilfully circled the puffy nub.
He smiled to himself as you weakly squirmed in his hold, knowing that in your state, this was the finishing touch to his game. One that he’d been playing since the day he met you, and that now was about to reach its end. Where he’d finally have you right where he wanted you, and you’d both be happy for a long time to come.
Removing the pressure from his ministrations, he bowed his head so that his lips were just ghosting the shell of your ear.
“Tell me what you need, pretty girl.”
Tears pricking in your eyes at the carnal desire you felt from even the slightest of touches, you found yourself near immediately calling for him, begging for his help without a hint of recollection from the memory that held resemblance.
“Please Koushi...I need you.”
With those small and desperate pleas, Koushi found that there was nothing he wanted to hear more in that moment. The desperation laced in your tone was the sweetest thing he’d ever listened to, and so he vowed to himself that he’d make you repeat those wanton admissions time and time again. As often as he needed them, and as often as you needed him. Which would be in your every waking second from now on, finally.
He couldn’t help but encourage you even more, the sound of your whimpers as his fingers worked you over being the most addictive drug.
“That’s it...I’ll give you everything you need. All you have to do is let me―you can do that, right?”
Only wanting to please him more, full body acceptance gripping your being, you responded by quickly nodding, incoherent words escaping you without thought.
Koushi could only laugh at your reaction, adorable in every sense. But, he wanted to hear you say it, ever the demanding one, and always wanting you to play by his rules.
Knowing you were teetering on the edge of release, his fingers slowed their pace, relenting to an achingly teasing method of feathered touches. He spoke one last question, something to finalize his long maintained agenda, goals set on crystallizing your reality for the both of you.
“Promise that you’ll let me care for you, no matter what.”
At his question, the only thing more powerful than the feelings burning inside of you from his sinfully skilled movements was how you felt about him.
The way he made you feel safe, even on the darkest of nights. How he wrapped you in an embrace that would snuff out the flames of self-doubt without fail, each and every time. He never missed a single thing about you, from the obvious outward traits, to the hidden emotions that suddenly didn’t seem like things you needed to conceal―not with him.
There wasn’t a single think about Koushi that you could bring yourself to hate.
Because right then, you loved him, just as much as he loved you.
Koushi felt like home. He was your home.
A home you never had until now. And one you never wanted to leave.
Resigning yourself to him completely, leaving not a single thing that would keep you from submitting to his passion, you held nothing back. Forever and always, you would give yourself up to him, content at the knowledge that you hadn’t a thing to fret over so as long as you were with him
“...I promise.”
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animemangasoul · 3 years
Text
You Are Wanted Obi-Wan Kenobi
Summery: Qui-Gon lives and Mace gets a new Padawan.
[In which Qui-Gon repudiates Obi-Wan and Mace isn't about to let the kid leave the order without a fight.]
Chapter: 6/10?
"Qui-Gon, what did you do?!"
 Qui-Gon's mouth opened and closed. Taking a stumbling step back, he couldn't help but stare. Stare at Obi-Wan who's distress was practically choking the force around him.
 How had it come to this?
 He'd been so excited to share the good news with his boy. He'd run through the scenario thousand times over in his head. Planned for how he'd approach their conversation, planned for Obi-Wan's inevitable questions; every single one he could think of, he'd even tried to tap into the unifying force; clouded as it was to him, and yet he hadn't foreseen this. Hadn't concluded that his elation and solution would bring his boy nothing but horror.
 Qui-Gon didn't understand. No matter how hard he tried to connect the dots; reasons failed him. It was obvious his idea had distressed Obi-Wan greatly, but try as he might, Qui-Gon couldn't understand why.
 What was so wrong with Yan taking Obi-Wan under his wing? He was his Grandmaster and Qui-Gon was sure his old Master would care for him. Distant as he was, the older Jedi truly had a good heart, Qui-Gon was sure of it. And Obi-Wan didn't do well with fussing and overt concern anyways, so the partnership at face value should have been acceptable to him, so why wasn't it?
 'Maybe,' he thought, his own aguish shrouding his mind. 'Maybe Obi-Wan didn't hear it when I told him that he wouldn't have to leave me?'
 Maybe his boy had assumed immediately that if he became Yan's Padawan, he would have to move out and never see Qui-Gon again? He was already so distressed after hearing his Master's name, maybe he didn't hear anything after that?
 That could be it, right?
 Because why else----
 "Qui-Gon! For force's sake, snap out of it!"
 Reeling backwards, Qui-Gon blinked furiously against the darkness that had enveloped his vision and Mace's furious face finally came into view. The man was no longer holding Obi-Wan tightly to his chest. Instead he'd put the younger man back on the floor, hand resting atop of his heart and the other providing support for his head.
 Qui-Gon had never seen Mace so scared.
 "What happened? What did you do? What's wrong with him?"
 Mace's emotions were like whiplashes, crashing against his shields with ferocity rarely exhibited by him before, and it was all Qui-Gon could do not to shatter against the onslaught of confusion, fury, pain, worry.
 "It's---" he stuttered, eyes finally sinking to the shuddering body of Obi-Wan. The boy was curled towards Mace, face distraught and breath coming in wheezing gasps that hurt Qui-Gon with it's familiarity. "He's having a panic attack." The last words were nothing but a whisper past his lips and as he said them it truly hit Qui-Gon how dire the situation really was.
 After all, Obi-Wan's panic attacks were both painful and terrifying experience for his poor boy, and was only through trial and error Qui-Gon finally figured out how to help him. And so instinctively Qui-Gon once again tries to pull up the usual shields to protect Obi-Wan from the onslaught of force presences drowning him. But the minute he tries; reaching out through the force to meld his mind against his Padawan. Trying to pull up the protective walls as swiftly as possible, he knowns. He is met with absolute nothingness, and he knows.
 Maybe he had always known, all these weeks. The truth hoovering at the horizon, but no. He hadn't let himself know, not really, not until he tried to pull at that familiar thread. That oh so familiar bond and came up empty.
 Obi-Wan Kenobi was no longer his Padawan.
 He couldn't help him. He couldn't build his own shields around his boy anymore. He couldn't ward against the terrors that haunted him anymore. Because…. Obi-Wan was no longer his Padawan.
 Qui-Gon couldn't protect Obi-Wan because he was no longer his to protect.
 And it was, with that revelation, that the ground fell from under him and his knees collapsed to the ground.
 It was….. Things were different now. His Obi-Wan, his Obi-Wan, wasn't his anymore.
 For the first time for Qui-Gon, it was as if he'd been left stranded on an island. Alone, empty, forgotten.
 That gentle pulsing presence in the back of his mind was gone. Replaced now by the blazing sun that was Anakin Skywalker, a sun that was now practically trying to drown him in order to reach through to him in overwhelming worry.
 'Mas…ter----Qui-Gon?' It shouted, filling him with echoes of panic. 'Okay?--- You? Mr.--Obi---an? --Wan. Obi---Wan? Oka--?'
 Their bond was still fragile, but whenever Ani was scared or worried, his voice grew loud and clear, no matter how broken up it was, Ani always managed to bulldoze his way into mentally communicating with him, and it was that concern, that fear for him, for Obi-Wan that finally managed to pull Qui-Gon out of his own spiralling anguish.
 'Snap out of it,' he told himself, shaking away the absolute sadness consuming him. 'Your boys need you.'
 Center yourself, acknowledge your emotions and then, release it.
 He breathed in, out. And let it all go.
 So with that final resolution in mind, he sent a soothing wave of calm towards Anakin 'don't worry about us, we're fine,' before gently closing his side of the bond and taking a deep breath.
 Obi-Wan needed him right now. His boy needed him.
 "Mace," he forced out, crawling towards the two bodies on the floor; legs not quite managing to carry him, shaking as they were. "You need to help shield him."
 "What?" Mace had in the meantime found away to at least calm Obi-Wan a little bit despite being unfamiliar with the kid's condition. It wasn't much, the auburn haired youth still gasping for air, fingers clutching at the Korun man's outer robes. But it was something.
 Taking a deep breath, forcing all his worries, all his grief to the very back of his mind where it could trouble him no longer, Qui-Gon rested a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder and lowered his voice to a comforting tone. "Obi-Wan becomes hyper aware of the force signatures around him when he's having a panic attack," he told him softly. "You need to use your bond with him to slowly block them out for him, not fully but so that they are muted and won't bother him as much."
 "Of course," Mace said, understanding flashing through his eyes, sending a brief nod of gratitude in his direction he diverted his attention back to the young man in his arms.
 The Master of the Order ran a gentle hand through Obi-Wan's wispy locks as he muttered something in a language Qui-Gon didn't quite understand but sounded almost familiar 'Stewjoni?' and slowly, ever so slowly, Obi-Wan's breathing evened out and with a last shuddering breath, the young man fell into a restless sleep. Cheeks flushed red, eyes red rimmed and body still shaking fiercely despite being past the worst of it.
 It tugged at Qui-Gon's heart, the sheer vulnerability of his boy; laying there, unconscious, face wet from tears only now drying up. He wanted to reach out and touch him, hold him, banish away the hurt and the pain and make it all better, but he couldn't.
 He knew he couldn't.
 So instead he watched as Mace gathered his former Padawan into his arms and stood up, the ragged breathing of Obi-Wan the only sound echoing through the walls of the apartment.
 "I should get him back to the Halls," he muttered, his eyes only meant for the sleeping young man in his arms. "He was already suffering from force exhaustion, this might set him back for days if not weeks."
 There isn't really a shift in tone or even harshness behind Mace's words. In fact the words are spoken with a frank observation, his fellow Master too focused on his Padawan to care much about Qui-Gon who's standing only an armlength away from him and yet, it feels as if Mace is accusing him. Pointing his finger at his chest and digging out all of his failings.
 'Wasn't it enough that you had him heal you,' it feels like Mace is saying. 'Now you drain him of his remaining energy? What's wrong with you?'
 Mace of course, says nothing of the sort, but it's all Qui-Gon can hear.
 "Yes," Qui-Gon finally managed to force out, trying to keep his face an neutral and serene as possible. "I think that's for the best."
 A brisk nod in his direction and Mace turned to the door and prepared to walk out.
 'No,' Qui-Gon suddenly thought, unconsciously taking a step forward. 'It can't end like this.'
 It felt like it was all ending. Right at this very moment. It felt like something big was coming to an end.
 It felt like a chapter in his life was closing, and….. Qui-Gon wasn't ready, he wasn't prepared.
 'No,' he thought desperately. 'Please no.'
 They had spent ten years together, it couldn't end like this.
 "Mace," he called out and the other man paused half way out the door. "Mace I--"
 But before he could continue, something shifted within the Korun man. Suddenly the calmness that was Mace Windu's force presence flared outward in one uncontrollable burst and through it Qui-Gon could sense rage.
 Hot, burning, bone shaking rage. Before whatever emotions that had accidently been let lose got buried just as quickly. And Mace tightly woven defense came back to shroud his true feelings.
 "Not now Qui-Gon," the man snapped, tone harsher then the sharp edges of Rimi'ula. "We can talk another time. Now if you will excuse me," Folding Obi-Wan closer to his chest, he disappeared out the door without a backward glance, leaving a forlorn Qui-Gon behind.
 'Perhaps,' Qui-Gon thought ruefully, watching his friend vanish. 'That is for the best.'
 Maybe a time away from each other to process the happenings of today would allow all of them a momentary respite?
 Yeah maybe it would all work itself out somehow.
 Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon released his pain into the force before he too left the apartment; in search for his own Padawan this time.
 Anakin's bright presence might be just what he needed to ease the throbbing ache in his heart, and Ani was probably worrying himself sick about Obi-Wan and him, so Qui-Gon could assuage his concern as well. This is something he could do.
 And for now, that had to be enough.
 --------
  Several hours later and it's all Mace can do not to storm out of the Halls, find Qui-Gon and strangle the blasted man with his own two hands. He'd kept his emotions under lock and key when Obi-Wan, in the softest tone imaginable, had told him about what had transpired between his former Master and him, but as soon as his new Padawan slipped into a fitful sleep; the result of reoccurring nightmares and overwhelming stress, Mace couldn't hold himself together anymore.
 Fingers clenching tightly around the bedframe, he tried to breathe through his anger like he'd been taught so many years ago, but it was impossible. Every time he came to a semblance of balance, he'd remember Qui-Gon's face and it would all come toppling down again.
 "He said…. He said he wanted me? But----" Obi-Wan had looked so tired, so heartbroken. So, alone.  It was as if Mace was thrown back in time to the day the kid woke up to the news that he'd been repudiated. "He wanted…. Master Dooku to take---me-- in name---- in name only of course and," and there it was, the blank stare Mace had fought so hard to erase. "He said…. he woul--- would train me together, with Anakin." a hitch in his breath. "He said--- I would just have a different Master?" Smiling bleakly, Obi-Wan shrugged. "Master Yan Dooku."
 Mace had hugged him then. Pulled the poor shivering kid against his chest and just held on tight. Told him there was nothing in this world and the force could do, to make Mace give him up and it was only with his sincerity ringing through the force, loud and clear that Obi-Wan finally took his words to heart and managed to release his pain into the force. Exhaustion finally winning over and dragging him back under; even as he clung to Mace for dare life until the very last inch of consciousness left him.
 Mace stood watch. His own feelings of anger and horror closely buried in his chest, refusing to leave him despite how hard he tried to release them into the force.
 Qui-Gon had repudiated Obi-Wan. He'd willingly giving up on his Padawan right before his Knighting Trials. He'd removed his braid without his consent and he hadn't once, been apologetic about it.
 And now, now that Mace had stood up and claimed the shattered soul of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon was waltzing back in to ruin what was left of the boy's confidence?
 How heartless, how cruel could one Jedi be?
 Fury licked at Mace's heart. Anger coursed through his veins, and try as he might, Mace couldn't seem to release it at all into the force. And with each fleck of burning rage he let go off, a bucket full would take it's place.
 Sighing, he pressed his face into the railing, hanging on for dare life.
 He needed a round of meditation. Maybe he could invite Depa over later tonight. His little Spitfire was good at pulling his emotions apart to find the center of his inner conflict. Perhaps with her help, he could sift through to the core of his anger and with the knowledge finally be able to let go of his less than Jedi like emotions.
 Perhaps.
 Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to bask in the golden presence of his new Padawan. Obi-Wan had been sleeping for the past couple of hours; his fitful sleep soon turning into a restful one after Mace wrapped the poor kid in his own force presence once more; noticing how the kid's shields were too weak to keep anything out.
 Now Obi-Wan looked more restful than he'd looked when Mace had raced over from the council room to find him slumped over; screaming his lungs out and unable to breathe.
 That pleading call still haunted him. He hadn't expected the wail through the force when he'd left the apartment that morning, thinking he'd be back long before Obi-Wan required anything of him. He'd even planned on getting through unpacking his new Padawan's things quickly while the kid was getting his check up with Master Che so they could spend the rest of the day together watching those holodramas Obi-Wan's friends had recommended. So to suddenly be disturbed in the middle of his last meeting by a terrified call through the force, it had been…… he still felt shaken by the thought of it.
 He should have been more careful. He should have known Qui-Gon would seek Obi-Wan out again now that he was out of the Halls. He should have known. His old friend was nothing if not persistent and Mace should have known.
 But he hadn't and now----
 Squeezing his eyes shut, he banished the thoughts. 'For another day,' he told himself.
Right now he needed to focus on Obi-Wan's well being and sinking into his own distress and failings wouldn't do his Padawan any good. Especially since the kid seemed to be sensitive to his moods now with his shields practically gone.
 Reaching out, Mace carefully brushed his finger between the kid's brows until his worry line disappeared. He smiled to himself.
 But then, when Obi-Wan let out a soft sigh, leaning into his featherlight touch, something within his heart crumbled.
 Mace continued to stroke his Padawan's forehead until his own stress faded away and all he was left with was absolute and utter fondness for the sleeping young man in his care.
 And then….
 His eyes snapped back open; where he most have closed them sometime during his brief calming moment with his Padawan. His lips pulling back into a snare.
 And he was out of his chair faster than a humanoid could blink, storming past Master Che who's presence near Obi-Wan's room was all too evident on who'd just arrived to pay a visit.
 "Mace," she called out after him, voice high in warning. "Don't."
 But he was done listening. He'd given the other man plenty of chances. Had tried to understand where he was coming from. Had tried to avoid him when that hadn't worked, and had buried himself in his own guilt and ignorance when that hadn't been enough either. But now----
 Qui-Gon had gone behind his back and tried to force his Padawan on Master Yan Dooku.
 Mace was done being understanding. He was done being kind. Old friend or not, Qui-Gon had no right to be here. No right at all.
 "Mace!"
 He shrugged the head healer off, force shoved the double doors open with a bang and with ten long strides had Qui-Gon by the front of his robes and up against the wall. "What are you doing here?" he snarled.
 "Hello Mace," Qui-Gon smiled pleasantly, face serene as ever, voice nothing but gentle understanding and eyes crinkling at the corners with friendliness.
  It grinded on Mace's nerve, that false serenity. He'd known the man long enough to detect his real feelings and right now it was anything but peaceful. "I came to check on Obi-Wan. How is he doing?"
 "That is," Mace glared. "Frankly non of your business." Fingers still tightly gripping the man's outer robes, in no hurry to let him go.
 Something unreadable flashed through Qui-Gon's eyes, his whole frame stiffening, but then it eased away and his old friend sent him a reassuring smile. "You most know I worry about him."
 Mace scoffed. "You repudiated him."
 Qui-Gon flinched and the Korun man shoved down any sense of vindication that burst through him at that reaction.
 "I had to," his fellow Master said, voice no louder than a whisper; both Masters  vaguely aware of the gathering crowds Master Che was trying to shoo away from the Halls. "The prophesy---"
 "Kriff the prophesy," Mace snarled, slamming him against the wall, eyes blazing with bottomless fury. "Kriff your prophesy Qui-Gon! You abandoned him!"
 "I didn't, I had a plan!"
 "A plan?"
 'Don't hit him,' he begged of himself. 'Please don't hit him. You're the Master of the Order, anger does not become you. Do.not.hit.him.'
 Oh, how much he wanted to hit him.
 "Yes a plan. Yan would take him as his Padawan officially and--"
 "You would do the actual training," the acid dripping from his words would make even Mace wince any other day. "Yes, I heard it all from your traumatized former Padawan who you," he said, shaking the man. "Have not only thrown away, but now made him believe that you most saddle him on someone else because he's no one's first choice."
 Qui-Gon's eyes widened. "That's not what I intended to do!"
 "It doesn't matter what you intended to do," Mace said, shoving him even harder, face only inches away from him. "It only matters what you actions show and so far, all you've done is kriff over the kid, Qui-Gon." Unclenching his fist he took a step back. "Since day one in fact."
 "That's not fair." The sadness in Qui-Gon's voice could be tasted through the force. "I wasn't ready for a Padawan back then and you all knew it. Yoda forced me to take him despite knowing I wasn't ready. The council did that," he said, eyes swimming with sadness and years of bitterness. "Not me. You did that."
 Guilt washed over Mace at those words and he took another step back. "You're right. Obi-Wan should have never been forced on you."
 "That's not--"
 "No," he said, shaking his head. "Let me finish. He shouldn't have been forced on you. Yoda was wrong--" He swallowed thickly he continued. "I disagreed with him, but I still went along with it so I was wrong too. We have all failed that kid and by extension, you. But Qui-Gon, you were an adult." Clenching his fists Mace tried to release his emotions into the force.  "You failed him as well. Several times over. If only I'd known how much you didn't want him. If only I had seen how less than ready you were. But we trusted you to act like a Jedi, to know that if you saw yourself truly unfit to handle a Padawan you would take the appropriate steps to fix it. But you didn't and each time you didn't, you managed to ship away at his self esteem, his confidence---" swallowing again, Mace gritted his teeth and looked down. "Why didn't you just let him go?"
 "What?"
 "Clearly you weren't ready for a new Padawan, and I looked through your files last week Qui-Gon. You never attended your mandatory mind healing sessions, so if you didn't think you were ready for Obi-Wan, why did you hold on to him? Why didn't you just let him go? Someone else would have taken him, you most have known that, so why?
 Qui-Gon froze, not moving a muscle as his face went through several expressions. From anger to grief, to confusion and finally to aching desperation. "He needed me," he said, almost pulling into himself. "No one else--- Xanatos he….. But Obi-Wan needed me and I just, he made me better Mace," he whispered, hands shaking slightly at his side. "He made me better and I made him stronger and…. We needed each other. Assigning him to me was the right choice. It was. Just now, the prophesy---"
 Mace shook his head slowly, heart breaking all over again, eyes stinging because…. How had Master Yoda missed all this? Qui-Gon was his Grandpadawan, this was his call and that meant both Master and Padawan fell under his jurisdiction. How had he missed such a mismatched pair? How had he never sounded the alarm?
 This was terrifying to watch. Qui-Gon's desperation, his inability to see how wrong it was of him to lean on a child for mental support.
 How had so many people missed it?
 He'd missed it himself. Sure he'd only been a newly appointed Council Member at that time, not having much say in the choices and the decisions made by the older members, but he could have kept a closer eye, could have listened and paid better attention. But he hadn't and now----
 "Obi-Wan is no replacement for Xanatos," he said, firmly. "Just because Xanatos didn't need you anymore and fell to the darkside does not mean you can replace his sudden void with Obi-Wan. That's not fair to him or you."
 The flash of anger that lashed out at him through the force almost made him stagger. "How dare you," Qui-Gon roared. "I wasn't trying to replace Obi-Wan with Xanatos, I would never! Obi-Wan was never like him. He would never betray me!"
 "So you betrayed him instead?"
 Mace had said the words calmly, or as calm as he could manage, but the pettiness behind them, was obvious to him, and by the way Qui-Gon reeled back as if slapped they had the intended effect too. Mace should feel guilty for causing a fellow Jedi pain, but knowing what he knew now. Knowing how twisted this Jedi pairing had been from the start, how Xanatos shadow hoovered over Obi-Wan before the kid even had a chance to prove himself, it made any guilt Mace might have felt any other time, non-existent. Later he would have to examine his feelings and meditate on them, but right now---
 "I didn't betray him." Qui-Gon snapped back. "I'm following the will of the force. Anakin needs training."
"And you know that how!"
Throwing his hands in the air, Qui-Gon was practically fuming at the mouth; the familiar argument grating on both their nerves. "I told you! The force is guiding me!"
Mace snorted. "And you think you're the only one who understands the force? The only one the force speaks to? How do you know your own bias isn't clouding your judgement?"
"How do you know it isn't clouding yours?!"
It was like being slapped in the face. Mace stared. "What?"
"I said," Qui-Gon huffed, a tiny edge of bitterness bleeding through his voice. "How do you know you aren't being biased as well? You're so deeply connected with the Unifying force, you cannot see what's right in front of you. So how would you know Anakin shouldn't be trained?"
"I'm not the only one, Qui-Gon," Mace said. "Anakin's future is clouded, filled with darkness and he's too old. How can you stand there and say your interpretation of the force is more correct than the entire council? Can you see something no one else in the council can see? Can you see past the darkness clouding all our visions?" Mace couldn't have sounded more skeptical if he tried, but by the resolute stiffness to Qui-Gon's frame, the man truly believed this to be the case.
"Yes my friend," he said, eyebrows heaving upward. "I'm guided by the will of the force. After all," he smiled; it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm more connected to the Living force than any other Jedi."
This level of certainty, this unshakable assurance that you can never be wrong was truly terrifying, and the fact that, wrong as he had been many times over; Xanatos the most obvious example, Qui-Gon had yet admit to any of it, yet to accept any failings, made Mace worry for the future of his old friend.
So taking a deep breath, he squared his jaw, crossed his arms and said without any regret, "If the will of the force was guiding you. Has been guiding you this entire time, shouldn't it have warned you about Xanatos?"
Qui-Gon lurched back, eyes widening in disbelief before bared his teeth in anger. Any semblance of friendliness and serenity gone with the wind. "How dare you," he hissed.
Mace glared. "When you elect you play games with my Padawan's life, I dare, every time."
"Obi-Wan is not your Padawan--"
"Yes," Mace snapped. "Yes he is."
"No," Qui-Gon growled back. "He isn't. Not yet. And Obi-Wan is a Senior Padawan, you're a council member Mace, you won't have time train him."
"I will make time," Mace gritted out. "And I will see him to Knighthood Qui-Gon Jinn, so don't get in my way."
"I have trained him for ten years Mace, don't you think I know what's best for him!"
Staring in disbelief at his old friend, Mace briefly wondered how it was possible to be that delusional. Hadn't their catastrophic conversation so far taught this man anything?
"You haven't gotten over Xanatos----" he said, keeping his voice low even though; thank the force for Vokara Che, the hallways were now blissfully empty. "And that's why you should have let obi-wan go. You're a Jedi Master, an adult, Qui-Gon. It was your responsibility to put the needs of Obi-Wan ahead of your own. It didn't matter how much he might have needed you," raising his voice to stop the other from interrupting him, he carried on forcefully. "If you knew you weren't equipped to provide for him the way you were supposed to, the way a Master was supposed to, you should have come to the council and let us assign another Master to him. The Jedi council failed him," he continued, painful as it was to admit. "But you failed him as well old friend, and the only one unwilling to admit to any fault here, is you."
It should have been obvious.
It should have been clear.
Mace could see it. Weeks in the other's shoes and he could see it.
The mistakes of the Jedi council, the mistakes of Master Yoda, his own by not noticing the walking trauma that was his best friend. So many mistakes, so so many.
But it wasn't too late to right wrongs, and Mace was willing to. It looked like Master Yoda was willing as well, surprising, seeing how stubborn the old troll could be about his own views. So to see Qui-Gon standing right in front of him, talking about these alarming issues as if they were trivial. Speaking as though with a wave of a hand he could fix it all, it……
Mace didn't understand.
"Obi-Wan needs me Mace."
"No," Mace said, turning away from him. "He doesn't. Not anymore."
He would have left it at that, but when a strong hand came to descend on his shoulder; gripping him hard, he swung back around, eyes blazing, the final threads of his meticulously crafted composure fraying at the edges and------
"Enough!"
They froze, simultaneously turning to lock eyes with the Grandmaster of the Order.
"Jedi, you are," he said, slamming his gimer stick on the ground. "Act like it, you will."
Making his tense shoulders relax slowly, Mace dropped his balled fist; forcing himself not to think about the immature action he was just about to take. "My apologize Grandmaster," he said, inclining his head ever so slightly in his direction as an apology. "I let my emotions get the best of me."
He refused to look at Qui-Gon and by the way the other Jedi had also turned away from him the feeling was most certainly mutual.
'Good,' he thought. 'If I ever see him anywhere near Obi-Wan ever again no Jedi Code is going to stop me from hitting him.'
'Breathe,' he then told himself, releasing his frustration and the embarrassment at being caught into the force. 'You're the Master of the Order, act like it. Your years of recklessness are behind you.'
After observing for an agonizing long minute, the Grandmaster nodded to himself.
"Come with me you will, Qui-Gon. And you," Master Yoda said, pointing his stick at Mace. "Tend to your Padawan you shall. Need you he does."
Qui-Gon stiffened. "Master Yoda I---"
"Come," the old Grandmaster said, already walking away. "Much to talk about we have. Embarrassed yourself in front of many Jedi you both did, bring it up with the council I will."
Mace flushed but he refused to feel bad about it, not when Qui-Gon still refused to accept how detrimental he was to himself and others, especially to Obi-Wan.
"Leave Mace to his duties you most. Come Qui-Gon."
Realizing how futile it was to argue with the green troll, Qui-Gon seemed to deflate in on himself, shoulders sagging in annoyed resignation before he clasped his hands under his sleeves; eerily similar to Obi-Wan and trudged after his Grandmaster.
Mace watched them walk away but just as it was almost too late to say any lasting words, he spoke up.
"Qui-Gon," He called out just as both Master's were about to disappear down the west wing. "Unless Obi-Wan asks for you personally, don't come back." And with that he turned on his heels and stepped back into the Halls not caring for whatever answer Master Jinn might have had for him in return.
The End
Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
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babybluebex · 4 years
Text
blinding lights [spencer reid smut]
➽ pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader(red / @h-o-m-e-w-a-r-d​ ) ➽ word count: 4.6k ➽ summary: an undercover mission leads enemies red and spencer to sort out their differences.   ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. explicit language, smut, oral (m!receiving), a little canon fuckery lol ➽ a/n: thank you red for the request! enjoy!
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Dr. Spencer Reid and I weren’t the best of friends. I wasn’t sure of the origin, but I think it started when I was called in to take his place while he was in prison. He wasn’t in there for too long, but it was long enough for me to really settle into my place at the BAU as a geographical profiler. When he was released from prison and came back to the BAU, he was no longer the youngest on the team. He wasn’t a baby to them and he wasn’t fragile anymore, and that seemed to bug him. It was classic behavior of a child who got a baby sibling and was sour about the attention the baby got. 
“Spencer, Jesus, listen to me,” I sighed heavily. “You look suspicious as hell. Everyone will instantly know you’re not an innocent.” 
“I’m not ‘suspicious’, Red,” Spencer said with a grimace. “You’re overthinking this.”
“Alright, genius,” I huffed. “When’s the last time someone wore a full suit to a club?”
“We got it a lot in Vegas,” Spencer began. 
“This isn’t Vegas, dipshit,” I told him. “This is Virginia. They’re pretty different places. Let’s redirect to your place, put on jeans and something more casual, and then we’ll be fine.”
Spencer forced out a laugh. “You think I actually own a pair of jeans,” he said. “You’re funny.” 
“Ugh, fine,” I mumbled. “Lose the coat, at least.”
The car rolled to a stop at a red light, and Spencer grumbled as he tugged his jacket off. I knew that he didn’t want to admit that I was right, but his eyebrows became loosened when the jacket was gone. “Gimme the tie,” I said.  “Pop the top… Hmm… Try the top two buttons.” 
“Ya know, Red,” Spencer started with a smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re intentionally trying to undress me.”
“As if I would ever sleep with you,” I scoffed. “C’mon, man, just do it. Trust me here, I’m closer to the target age for these sorta clubs, I know what I’m doing.”
“Is that a jab at my age?” Spencer asked, dramatically pressing his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt, Red, truly.”
“Boo-hoo, unbutton your shirt,” I said quickly. I took his arm in my grasp and rolled a sleeve up a few rotations experimentally, and I nodded in approval at his forearms. 
“And is this based on some statistic?” Spencer asked. “College girls like forearms?” 
“If they belong to a nice-looking guy, sure,” I told him. “It’s the same ‘Victorian men being horny for women’s ankles’ mentality. It’s seeing something that’s not normally exposed.”
Spencer nodded, and he chuckled. It was low and rough against his vocal chords, and he wet his bottom lip. “Did you just call me attractive?” He asked. 
“Oh, shut up,” I groaned. I did the same to his other sleeve, then said, “That’s a little better. You still look…” 
“Old?” Spencer asked. 
“Uncomfortable,” I replied. “Just… Be cool. Please?” 
When we got to the club, Spencer didn’t leave my side. The unsub’s M.O were young women with red hair, hence my being there, and we were pulling a classic maneuver of baiting him to get me. Spencer was right next to me, but I also knew that the rest of the team was around if we needed backup. According to past incidents, the unsub would drug the girl’s drink and take her away under the guise of helping her, and we were prepared for anything bad to happen. 
Spencer helped me onto a barstool, his hand gripping mine. I was much shorter than him, and the seat gave me a few inches more than I would regularly have, and I smiled gently. “What d’ya wanna drink, babe?” Spencer asked, and it pleased me to see just how easily he slipped into his role. 
“Surprise me,” I told him, and Spencer moved in just a bit closer to me. His hand came up and brushed my hair behind my ear, and his lips moved just centimeters away. 
“Two seats down the bar,” Spencer whispered. “Been staring at you since we walked in.” 
I nodded. “Does he seem…?” I began. 
“She seems pretty interested,” Spencer said. “But I can’t tell if it’s because she’s the unsub or not…” 
“She?” I repeated. “I thought we agreed that the unsub was a guy?”
“We figured,” Spencer replied. 
“How often is the unsub in situations like this a woman?” I asked. 
“Are you doubting that I can see who’s watching you?” Spencer asked, narrowing his eyes. “It’s a female-presenting person, Red. If you don’t believe me, look for yourself.” 
“I’m not doubting, Spence,” I mumbled. “Christ, loosen up.” 
Suddenly, Spencer’s hand went to my thigh and he squeezed with surprising force. “Don’t tell me what I should do,” he said. “If you remember, I’m here to protect you.”
The breath left my chest quickly, leaving me rasping out an attempt at a comeback. “Get your hand off of me,” I managed finally. 
“It’s for our covers, babygirl,” Spencer said with a sarcastic smirk. When he smiled at me like that, annoyance usually burned in my stomach. However, at that moment, there was something more. It couldn’t be arousal, could it? 
“Hmm, taking a page out of Derek’s book, are we?” I asked. 
“Let’s get you drunk,” Spencer laughed, squeezing my thigh once more before he removed his hand. “Stay right here, pet.”
“Or what?” I challenged him eagerly. I knew that everything he was saying was in aid of our covers for the night, but a small part of me hoped that it was in earnest. I had acknowledged to Prentiss and Garcia on several occasions that Spencer was, in my opinion, the most attractive member of the team, and Prentiss agreed. Garcia was still loyal to Morgan, though, but it made me feel less like a freak that someone else saw it. His long hair, his curls fluffed out, with facial hair making his cheeks and chin rough, and pretty golden eyelashes with the dark circles around his eyes. He had mentioned once that the darkness around his eyes was a genetic thing, and I hadn’t forgotten that.
Spencer smiled at me and he hooked his thumbs comfortably in his belt loops. “Pray you don’t find out,” he said, and he winked at me before turning in search of a bartender. 
There was a gentle giggle from behind me, and I looked to see a woman a few years older than me, dressed casually and sipping at a fruity cocktail. I chanced a quick look over her shoulder to where Spencer had indicated that the suspicious woman sat, and I found the seat empty. I was sure that the woman was the one Spencer had seen. “You two are cute,” she said. “I wish I had a boyfriend like that.” 
“Oh, he’s not…” I began instinctually, and my words died in my throat. “He’s not usually as much of an asshole as he just was. He hates clubs.”
“Why’s he here then?” she asked. Her hair was a strawberry blonde that shined purple under the lights of the club, and her eyes were large and curious at me. 
“I begged him,” I replied. I fiddled with my jacket, trying to find the wire that Rossi has fitted me with, and I pulled my phone out of an inner pocket as a guise. “He’s a sorta stick-in-the-mud. He’ll probably leave early.” 
“Hey, you,” Spencer said and buried a kiss in my hair, and he said, “You told me to surprise you.” 
I took a sip of the drink, and I smiled at him. It was nothing more than soda, but I said, “How’d you know I liked rum and soda?” 
“I know a lot about you, pet,” Spencer said. “More than you think.” His hand returned to my leg, just a bit higher than before, and his thumb made gentle strokes on the inner skin of my thigh. The stimulation was enough to make my leg twitch, and Spencer gave me an innocuous smile. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I replied. I turned my body fully towards him, and I made sure to leave my glass just out of my sight. “Okay, I have one request.” 
Spencer sighed. “I’m not gonna dance with you.”
I groaned and slapped my hands on his chest. “Why not?” I cried. “That’s why we’re here, right, babe?” 
“Red,” Spencer said firmly. “Trust me. You don’t want me to dance with you.” 
“Give me one good reason why not,” I said, tugging at his collar. Two could easily play at the game that he had started, and I intended to win.
Spencer bit his bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the pink flesh, and he said, “Because I’ll probably get hard and have to fuck you raw in the bathroom. We don’t want that, do we?” 
My heart jumped into my throat, and I clenched my jaw. “Jesus, someone might hear you,” I whispered. 
“What would be the harm in that?” Spencer asked. “But you don’t want that.” 
I swallowed hard, and my finger gently stroked the bit of skin just below his collar. “Babe,” I said softly. ‘You have no idea how much that would please me.”
Spencer raised his chin, trying to gauge if I was serious or not, and he said, “How about we skip that dance and go right to the good part?” 
“Fine by me,” I shrugged. Spencer took my hand to assist me down from the barstool, and his arm went tightly around my waist. The bathroom was a single-serve type, and Spencer and I filed in quickly before he shut the door and secured the lock. 
“Okay,” Spencer said, pressing his palms to his legs. “How long should we stay in here?” 
I shrugged. “How long does it take for you to fuck someone raw?” I asked, looking at my watch. I saw a text from Garcia, the one who was monitoring our wires, and it had a simple winky face. I sent her back a middle finger. 
“I don’t know,” Spencer said. “Depends.”
“On?” I asked. 
“I’m not getting into that with you,” Spencer said. 
“Well, you made your bed, Doc,” I said. “Now, lie in it. How long do you take to fuck?” 
“Red, I’m not--” Spencer began, and his hand twitched. My gaze went to where they laid, and I blinked away the sight of the bulge in Spencer’s pants. 
“Jesus Christ,” I huffed. “Are you hard right now?” 
“Can you blame me?” Spencer asked. “It’ll go away, give it a minute.” 
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Well, we have to stay here long enough for the unsub to drug my drink,” I began. “So, take care of… That, and we’ll go from there.” 
“Well, geez, you don’t have to sound so offended,” Spencer said. “This is because of you, brat.” 
“I’m not a brat,” I spat back. 
“Sounds like something a brat would say,” Spencer quipped quickly, and I rolled my eyes. I turned to look at him and found him tugging at his shirt collar. His eyes quickly found mine, and he said, “What? It’s hot.” 
“Not really,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest, and I said, “You know, sexual arousal raises the body’s temperature by two degrees on average. It’ll give some people the feeling of being in a warm environment even when they’re not.” 
“Stop spouting off statistics,” Spencer snapped. 
“Or what?” I asked. 
“Or you’re gonna be taking care of me,” Spencer said. “Fucking brat.” 
I tilted my head curiously, and I took a few steps toward him. “And what if I want to take care of you?” I asked. “What if that’s all I’ve ever wanted?” 
“You’re getting into dangerous territory here, Red,” Spencer warned me. 
I reached into my jacket and retrieved the wire, and I clicked it off before replacing it into my pocket. Instantly, my watch lit up with a text from Garcia, probably asking why my wire suddenly cut out, but I didn’t care too much. I reached out for Spencer, and I carefully began to unbutton his shirt. I didn’t do it all the way, just enough to get to his own wire, and I said, “Hey, Garcia. Give us maybe ten minutes alone, babe.” With that, I turned his wire off as well, and I smiled up at Spencer. “You’re really cute, Doctor.” 
“Are you actually going to help me?” Spencer asked. “Or are you just gonna tease me?”
I sighed dramatically. “I don’t know,” I said. “While teasing you seems awfully tempting, we’re on a time crunch.” 
Quickly, my hand went to Spencer’s waist and started to undo his belt, and Spencer leaned forward towards me. “Red,” Spencer started. “You really don’t have to do this, ya know?” 
“I know,” I replied. “But, honestly, Spence, I’ve wanted to fuck you since I met you.”
Spencer chuckled. “You’re lying to me,” he said. 
“No,” I said plainly. “You walked into the bullpen and everyone swarmed you and was asking you about prison. That’s enough to get any girl hot and bothered, but you smiled at me and I melted.” 
“Good to know,” Spencer said. “So, I just need to smile at you, and you’ll give me a blowjob?” 
“Not always,” I replied. “But right now, yes.”
By now, my hand was fully in his pants, and the heady weight of his cock excited me. He seemed the type of man to have a big cock. I swiped my thumb gently over the soft head and Spencer’s head tilted back as he hissed softly. “Jesus, Red,” He whispered. “It’s been so long since…” 
“Hush, babe,” I whispered. “It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me anything.” A moment passed where I slowly worked him in my hand, and I cleared my throat. “How long, Spence?” 
“Before prison,” Spencer told me. “Most women don’t wanna fuck a guy who went to prison on murder charges.” 
“What does that say about me?” I asked. 
“We don’t have time for this right now,” Spencer said firmly. “Just suck my dick, please.” 
I smiled. “Gladly, Dr. Reid,” I replied. I moved down onto my knees and worked Spencer’s pants down further to fully expose him to me. I let my hands smooth up his legs to his waist, and I tugged him slightly closer. The smell of him filled my nose and made my mouth water, and I finally put my mouth on him. Even just the feeling of my lips drew a small moan from Spencer, and his fingers tangled in my hair. 
“We don’t have too long,” Spencer mumbled, and I nodded. Spencer’s hand replaced my mouth and he worked his cock in his fist. I watched him eagerly, feeling myself quiver and begin to drip at the sight of him, and I pushed his hand out of the way in favor of wrapping my mouth around the firm head of his cock again. His skin was warm with arousal, and I sent a long lick from the head to where his cock met his body. This earned me a wrecked moan, and Spencer whispered, “Fuck, Red.”
I kept on what I was doing, enjoying the way that Spencer gripped my hair and cussed whenever I did something he liked. He was responsive as hell, often muttering little praises to me, and I loved it. I had imagined something like this, but never could I have imagined how delicious Spencer’s moans were. He had such an ego, maybe from his time in prison, but something as simple as a blowjob seemed to make him dissolve. Eventually, I recognized the little spasms in his thighs and hips, and I pulled myself away from his cock. A string of saliva connected us, and I giggled as I wiped it away. “You almost done?” I asked. 
“Yeah,” Spencer said breathlessly. “Take off your shirt.” 
“Why?” I asked. 
“Just do it,” Spencer huffed. I wasn’t about to argue with him, so I stripped myself of my blouse and I pushed my chest out for him to admire. His hand returned to grip his cock, and he began to stroke himself quickly. He bit his bottom lip harshly, the flush in his neck telling of just how close to orgasm he was, and his hand became faster. “Fuck. Fuck!” 
I barely had time to register that he was coming before I felt his cum land on my warm chest, dripping down in-between my breasts. A small part of me was unhappy that this bra was now stained with Spencer’s cum, but a bigger part didn’t mind too much. Even if the stain didn’t come out, it would be a reminder of the little moment we shared. 
Spencer’s chest heaved as he tried to calm himself down, and he carefully tucked himself back into his pants. I stood up, choosing to ignore the ache in my knees, and I helped him right his hair. His eyes were now heavily-lidded, watching me carefully, and I turned to the  chipped sink. I found a stack of brown paper towels and wet a few with the lukewarm water, and I turned back to Spencer and began to gently pat his cheeks and neck with them. “It’ll cool you down,” I explained gently. “Make you look a little normal.” 
“I’m not worried about that,” Spencer said. “Are you okay?” 
I nodded quickly. “I’m fine, Doc,” I replied. Taking his word, I began to clean myself up, and I threw the soaked and dirty paper towels into the metal bin. He helped me back into my blouse, his hands surprisingly steady as he did my buttons, and I wrestled our wires back onto us, switching them on. My watch showed that Garcia had texted me several times, asking what had happened, and I was sure that Spencer’s phone was in a similar state. 
“We’re alright, Garcia,” I said. “Sorry about that.” Even though I couldn’t hear Garcia, I knew that she was laughing. 
“Oh, God,” Spencer sighed. “Your knees are bruised to shit.” 
I looked down at my legs and found light red bruises already forming, and I shrugged. “Whatever,” I said. “I don’t care if you don’t.”
“I don’t,” Spencer assured me. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at me, and I laughed. 
“Alright, lover boy,” I said and patted his chest. “Let’s go check on that drink.” 
When we returned, our seats were empty and my drink was still there, the glass sweaty with condensation, and it took one whiff to smell the tell-tale saltiness of rohypnol. I pretended to take a sip of it, and I pulled Spencer close to me. “Twenty minutes,” I said. “Time it.” 
Spencer nodded, and he leaned back against the bar. We examined the place, and I quickly spotted Prentiss and JJ on the far side of the club, acting as normal club-goers. They were dancing to whatever thumping song was playing, and I knew that, even though it was a job, JJ probably loved being away from the kids for a night. “Hey,” I said gently, resting my hand on Spencer’s arm. “Umm… Don’t be a stranger. Ya know?” 
“What do you mean?” Spencer asked. “We see each other every day.” 
“No,” I said. “I mean, like… Don’t… Nevermind.” 
“Oh, was this about…?” Spencer began and gestured to the bathroom. I was glad that he had caught onto what I was saying and reciprocated in a way that avoided Garcia or the rest of the team from explicitly hearing what had happened. I wasn’t ashamed and I doubted that Spencer was, but we knew that everyone would give us endless shit for hooking up while we were in the field. “Red, I would hate for that to affect what we have.” 
“What do we have?” I asked. “You hate me.”
“I pretended to hate you,” Spencer corrected me. “There’s some shit in my past, and I’m sure you’ll find out if you don’t already know, but… I think it’s easier to hide my feelings, because the last girl I had feelings for… Long story short, she framed me for murder.” 
“Oh, shit,” I chuckled. “What a bombshell.”
“You’re telling me,” Spencer said. “But I like you. I’ve liked you for a while, since I met you. But I never thought you’d go for someone like me, so I never tried.” 
“Someone like you?” I repeated. 
“A felon,” Spencer shrugged easily.
“We just had a discussion about this, babe,” I said. “Or did you miss the part where I… Did all that? And you didn’t actually do it, so, as far as I’m concerned, you’re just another government schlub.”
“Oh, that makes me feel better,” Spencer snorted. “So, you’d rather fuck a government schlub than a felon?” I widened my eyes at him, and he bit his bottom lip harshly as he realized what he had said. I watched JJ and Prentiss turn to look at us, and I locked eyes with JJ across the room. She exploded with laughter that I could almost hear from the other side of the loud club, and I huffed. I had forgotten that Garcia wasn’t the only one who could hear what our wires were transmitting. 
“Jesus, what I’m trying to say, Spence,” I started. “Is that I’d still like you, even if you were a real felon. If you were to kill someone, I’m sure you would be justified anyway. Whatever. All this to say… Don’t be a stranger. I’d like for this to happen again.” 
Spencer nodded in agreement. “Me too, Red,” he said softly. “Me too.” 
Spencer signaled the twenty minutes with a gentle pat on my thigh, and I blinked a few times. I had seen the effects of rohypnol before, and I knew how to act; apparently, Spencer knew how to act as well. “Hey, you look really tired,” he noted. “Are you feeling okay?” 
“I’m fine,” I nodded breathlessly. 
Suddenly, JJ began to wave frantically in Spencer’s direction, jumping up and down to get his attention. This was all part of the scheme, separating me from Spencer to allow the unsub to swoop in and “rescue” me. “Oh, woah,” Spencer chuckled. “Hey, I see a girl that I work with over there, do you mind if I go say hi?”
“Go ahead, babe,” I said with a weak smile. “I’ll be here.” 
Spencer landed a quick kiss on my cheek and moved off to join Prentiss and JJ, and a hand touched mine almost immediately. It was the same strawberry blonde from before. “You look really sick,” she stated. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, and it made my stomach turn and my skin crawl. 
“No, no, I’m fine,” I said. “Just… Just hit a wall. Long day at work, ya know?”
She pressed her lips together and nodded quickly. “Maybe we should get you a cab home,” she said. “Does your boyfriend live with you?” 
I cast a gaze towards Spencer, talking to JJ with big, excited gestures, and I shook my head. “No,” I began. “He lives… Up-Uptown.” 
“Let’s get you out of here,” she said, and she slung my arm over her shoulders. I moved with her out of the club, making sure to stumble a few times to help sell the ruse, and I slumped against the brick wall outside. I took a few quick breaths and worked tears to my eyes, and I mumbled “Where’m I?”
“We’re going home,” the girl told me. “You’ve been drugged.”
I looked at her, the sickly-fluorescent light of the streetlamp making her look like something from the uncanny valley, and I saw Spencer approaching us behind her, his gun drawn. The girl reached out to me, taking my arm, and Spencer yelled, “FBI! Hands behind your head!”
The girl turned on her heel to see Spencer and the gun, and she looked around in a panic to see Prentiss at his side, her gun drawn as well. By the time she turned back to me, I had unstrapped my gun from around my thigh and had it focused squarely on her. “Hands behind your head, ma’am,” I told her with a smile. 
“But!” She started. “But you--!”
I took her moment of confusion to sheath my weapon and grab her arms, and I began to cuff her. “I’m an agent with the FBI,” I told her “Special Agent Reid will read you your rights.” 
“I know them,” she spat. 
“Still required,” I said. “Or I can read them to you. I think it would be less embarrassing for you if Agent Reid did it, though.” 
Spencer kept his gun trained on her, and he began to recite her rights. “You have the right to remain silent,” he said. “Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney; if you cannot afford one, one will be assigned to you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?” It wouldn’t have surprised me if Spencer had that puppy memorized before he even stepped foot into a government building. 
As I pushed the suspect into a cop car, JJ came up to me. “Good job, Red,” she said. “I’m impressed.” 
“It was nothing,” I said, shutting the door. “I couldn’t have done it without Spence.”
“Yeah,” JJ chuckled. “Umm… Word of advice for next time… You have to hold the button for three seconds to stop the wire from transmitting.” 
163 notes · View notes
foggyladyking · 3 years
Text
The places we don’t walk
Bryce Lahela x F! mc (Zelda Herschel)
words: 2170
summary: Rewrite of book 2 chap 11 from bryce’s pov, as Zelda stresses over everything happening and Bryce realizes he’s not content with just a smile, fickle promises, and leaving words unsaid to keep from going down to the places they won’t walk. 
rating: teen and up Light swearing, and light sexual themes
hurt/comfort 
_________
a/n
listen I hated how it emphasized how hot Bryce was, like okay we get it bryce is hot but his best friend is dying my thought wouldn’t be Let me look at your beautiful face one last time lets give bryce some more personhood other than being hot. pls fuck me pb wtf 
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Zelda pulled Bryce away from all the eyes to a supply closet, pushing him against a shelf, and pressing against him she attacked his lips. diving into him entirely.
her hands found their way under his scrubs, and his found their way to her waist. They had mere moments before a nurse would page her, moments before it was all shattered and the facade of perfection they created with each desperate kiss was gone. 
Bryce broke apart, giving a breathless laugh as he looked at her. Bags under her eyes that jumped around, she had this look of exhausted desperation on her, he didn't fail to notice how her hands shook ever so softly, the way she seemed to jump out of her skin at everything. 
"Do you wanna talk about it or just continue to kiss the shit out of me?" he asked with a gentle smile. "I don't think I can take this," She said before kissing him again. He pulled away once more only to wrap his arms around her. "what happened?" He asked "it's nothing, just kiss me," "It's obviously not nothing, have you slept?" 
She shot him a look that told him to proceed with caution. "What happened, Z?" He asked softly, smoothing her hair back into place. "Ethan is a bit.... much, He doesn't agree with what I'm trying to do to save the hospital and he's being such a..... baby, I've fought with him and argued for weeks, Bryce He makes me want to rip my hair out, He's so stuck on the idea of what the diagnostic team was meant to be and he only sees one part of what it means, You know? I feel like I'm playing wife, scolding him, when he's acting like a child," she let her head fall to Bryce's chest. 
"He's so goddamn difficult Everyone else on the team is trying, everyone else is playing their role but he's so.. stubborn," Bryce listened dutifully, soothing the back of her head and holding her in his arms. 
"I feel like things keep coming and coming and they keep pushing me and I know, they push everyone I know that's the point but I just feel like they push me harder?  I just- I don't know, I don't know, I just wanna give up, I don't want politics or anything, and I'm here, on T.V talking up some shitty politician, Pretending that's my job, Because yeah, now my phone's blowing up Because despite everything I'm reduced to Ramsey's 'possible new girlfriend' Because fuck me that's why," She ranted, taking a deep breath before looking up. 
"The curse of being hot, smart, and skilled, is that people only recognize one of the three at a time, it's a heavy cross to bear, Yknow?" She joked with a tired smile. Dismissing everything with that smile.
He knew it All too well what was happening, what she was doing so easily, pulling away and fixing herself. He knew and yet he stood there with a sad frown on his face, brows furrowed as he reached out slightly.
"Maybe let's go somewhere," Bryce tried with a smile, "you need a break from this place," He added hopefully. "If you could do anything what would you do?" He asked with a smile, they both recognized the plead, and neither acknowledged it, something that happened a lot with the pair if he was honest.
"It's okay, I should keep working on my cases, I'm sorry I went off like that, I'll make it up to you," She promised with a soft smile. "Zelda come on, It's okay, Let's do something," He urged wrapping his arms around her waist. 
She was saved by the abrasive lights from the hall flooding in,  An annoyed nurse standing in the doorway. Pulling away from him she fled past the nurse, smiling at him as she did. 
Bryce was left, disheveled and helpless. He let out a deep breath as he ran his hand through his hair, his pager going off once again, Pulling him away from Herschel's fleeting form, She was gone, walking beside someone else. 
With the mental promise to check up on her later, he allowed himself to be pulled away.
________
By the time he saw her again, it was before Krya's surgery and she seemed a bit better, She pressed a kiss to his lips and told him to take care of Krya before they separated.  
They separated all the time, parting ways with a promise to see each other at work, at a party, or just the next time they met up, A smile and a wave was a promise that they were only a text away, that if they needed the other, there they'd be. 
And then his hands started to shake, And as he finished the surgery and rushed to Zelda they didn't stop. He was met with a hoard of friends all looking at him with this grim look, they all went the same way.
He watched her through the window, pacing around the room, in bed was Rafael who followed his gaze and met him once again with a shrug, as if to say he'd already tried. 
"Zelda?" Bryce called from the other side of the wall. She turned to look at him, and with the knowledge, she was likely going to die, the first words out of her mouth upon seeing him was "Bryce, You shouldn't be here,"  He gave a soft smile and made a passing comment if he was honest he couldn't remember what he said, His mind was too wrapped up in watching her. 
She pressed her hand to the glass and sighed, within a second he pressed his own to the same spot on the glass. "Maybe Ethan will be less of a hardass on you, now," He joked with a hopeful smile. She let out a bittersweet laugh, and before he knew it there he was, fighting the same losing battle of trying to stay calm, to be strong in front of Zelda Herschel.
He watched as The diagnostic team drew blood, As Ethan lingered and once again, with the sound of his pager, he was pulled away.
But maybe for the best, as Bryce couldn't watch this, Watch her pale and her eyes roll back, He saw it enough He knew. He couldn't watch her wither away. 
He wasn't far, though, At all times he was a text away. She was pale and her cheeks had become gaunt, her lips were cracked and so dry she had a hard time stopping the habit she had since she was a child of picking at her lips till they bled. 
The hardest part of it all was watching through the glass as Ethan offered reassurance and dutifully she gave him her new symptoms with a gentle smile. It wasn't because he was jealous, it was the simple fact that she'd resigned into them failing that while they all tried to fix it, she was trying to ease them into the idea that if it can't be fixed she loved them. 
It was that at that moment she and Rafael shared a quiet resolve to make sure everyone knew that it was okay. 
He returned to her side after hours of working with some of the greatest minds he knew settled on the conclusion that there was no cure, she scanned their faces nodded, "how doomed am I?" She asked, If Bryce would have met her eyes, he would have seen that her's never left his form.
Bryce half-listened, to it all, the rundown of what he already knew, "I'm going to die here," She said and with a sigh that seemed sort of light she continued; "so be it," Three words that made the group flinch, ever so slightly. 
"Now's not the time to give up..." He heard Ethan say, But in honesty, they all knew He was just clinging to anything that might keep her from losing hope. As Sienna wetted the glass with her tears he finally looked at her, She watched her friend with a gentle smile. "I hear you no dying yet," she promised. 
And all at once, he was alone, and her eyes fell to him, with a forced smile he says "It's gonna be all right." Today seemed to be the day of promises made to ease hearts, he noted, making one of his own. 
"You don't have to be positive for my sake," She said gently. "I'm not, I can't let myself lose it, not when there's still hope," He said. She nodded thoughtfully, taking a labored breath before replying "whatever helps," 
Every moment felt heavier, with the weight of it all, with the fears they carried, and even as she gave him the same smile, the same one that said 'I'll see you later,' he came to the realization suddenly that the promise that was held in a smile wasn't enough for him. 
He suited up and within a moment, he was by her side, "what do you think? Am I still handsome? or am I maybe more handsome? Be honest." He said upon his entrance. 
The fear of making it real by saying anything else hindered him, But graciously She laughs, clapping lazily as he struts about in his bulky suit. 
"It's your best look yet," she informs with a tired grin. 
it's all coming down, He's losing her, he's losing her, it's over and they wasted time, This was it.  Every 'I love you' he trapped behind his teeth came back to the tip of his tongue. "I can't believe you actually came in here," She admitted with a sigh.
"if gonna be here for you I'm gonna be here for you," He said, As though repeated a club oath. 
"I'm not doing well on my own," She admits softly stroking her thumb over his rubber one. "No, no you've been brave," He denies. "I got two men killed because I was stupid," She reaffirms so sternly that it broke his heart.
So he does all he can, for the woman he loves and takes her in his arms just like before this began, Repeating "I'm sorry" till his voice broke. 
He gives her the only advice he can "stay positive," stupid as it may be, that's all he had. 
Even in joking, it all felt fragile, one breath it'd shatter. Everything was a funhouse version of their usual interactions, a melancholy facade of normalcy that she broke with "Did I tell you how thankful I am that you're here?" 
once the facade broke, so did Bryce's strained smile, "I was starting to go crazy worrying out there," He admits, "I couldn't imagine, I suppose it's just as hard, to watch," She replied. 
And it all came down, the weight of places they didn't walk, and the things they didn't say with the belief that it was obvious fell onto him, threatening to suffocate him. 
 "You mean a lot to me, More than you know, the idea of losing you...." He trailed off 
"if tonight's my last night, You're the one I want to spend it with," she said with a smile. 
She settled into the bed, too weak to pace about anymore, she looked up at him, in his bulky hazmat suit that was not at all made with cuddles in mind, and asked "Would you hold me?" her voice strained and rough, and Bryce didn't even have a thought of saying no. 
In the time spent spooning, it seemed everyone else spent it making a miracle because they rushed up, dark puffy eye bags looking more than a bit disheveled but with hopeful smiles on their faces. 
Bryce with his arm around her helps steady Zelda's arm, biting his lip as he watches the needle go in, sending a silent prayer to a god he doesn't believe in with it.
Reluctantly, to the demand of Ramsey, Bryce leaves her to rest, sleeping in the on-call dorm, despite being told to go home, no one would enforce this, in fact soon He was woken up by Ethan a broad smile playing on his face. "It's safe to go to her, without the hazmat suit, I have a feeling there's no other person she'd rather go tell her than you," He said gently.
And so, he did rushing in with all the confidence in the world, announcing "it worked?" A look of pure disbelief found its way to Zelda's face, so he strolled through the door with a grin, arms open as if to prove it. 
Without so much as another word, she jumps up and runs to his arms, nearly taking him down in the process, everything lost to him but her fists curled into his scrubs, and her lips on his. 
When they finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers "thank you," "for what?" she asked with a soft smile. "for being alive." He replies, anchoring himself by embracing her.  
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aestheticseungmean · 4 years
Text
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(3:22 AM)
Changbin took advantage of having you around until you decided that you’ve had enough. How long will it take for him to realize that he messed up?
Warning- Angst, bit of fluff at the verrrrrrrry end.
Requested by @hwangscorpio​; Thank you! I didn’t know if you wanted him to get back with them so I just improvised.
(Let me know if you guys have a suggested title for this...I’m having trouble thinking of one.)
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If someone asked you six months ago how you felt about Changbin, you’d go into a hour long rant on how he was the best and treated you like a person. However, that changed the more relaxed he got. It seems like the boyfriend switch got turned off. Now, he barely acknowledges you or gives you affection. Those days full of sneaking kisses and cuddles was long gone. You were not strongly religious yet you found yourself praying for your old boyfriend to come back. You prayed that this was all a dream and Changbin would walk through that door and give you a kiss before asking about your day. But that didn’t happen. Never did.
The steam from the stir-fry rose up and hit you in the face like a cloud of fluff as you stirred it one last time. You turned off the stove and slightly smiled as you heard the front door open. “Hey, Binnie~ I made dinner!” Changbin glanced at you before heading to his studio replying something along the lines of “I already ate.” Disheartened from his comment, you sat at the table once again, eating alone. What was left of your relationship that makes you think that you can salvage it? It was like the Titanic, already sunk and decayed. Nevertheless, when you were cleaning up the kitchen, Changbin reappeared to get some water. “I put the leftovers in the fridge for when you get hungry and I restocked all the waters, coldest in the front for you.” He nodded and left, not even giving you a thank you.
Changbin wasn’t due home until late today so you decided to go hang out with some friends. You smiled as you skipped up to Mark and Jae. “Hey Tuan. Park. How are you?” “We’re good. What about you, Mrs.Seo?” Mark teased. They knew your boyfriend and were friends with him. All three of them were music majors. In fact, Jae was the one who introduced you to Mark and Changbin after hearing you say that you wanted more friends. “Not great. He’s been ignoring me. Now, I just feel like a waste of space.” Mark frowned and Jae sighed. “Have you talked to him about it?” “No. Every time I try to talk to him normally, he either says nothing or says barely anything.” As you talked, you kept walking. Mark tried to offer advice but it fell on deaf ears.
At home, you showered and laid on the bed. Maybe Jae was right. Maybe you should try to talk to Changbin directly about this using you thing. The door slammed shut indicating Changbin was furious about something which meant goodbye to trying to talk to him tonight. The next few days you’ve tried to talk to him but he ignored you. He’s even gone to the point of locking himself in the studio. You caught him one day trying to go into his studio, your hand blocked his way and you started talking. “Changbin, I want to talk to you-“ He cut you off with a cold tone. “I have business to attend to.” His hand grasped your arm, harshly shoving it back towards your body. The small click sound made tears well up in your eyes. This can’t keep happening, you deserve better. Thus, you begin secretly packing.
Mark agreed to let you stay at his house until you could find a new living situation. He helped you load all of your boxes into his car before leaving you to take a last look around. You already returned all of the hoodies and shirts Changbin gave you early on in the relationship. One last time, you made the bed and headed towards the door, planning to leave the lengthy note on the dining table. The grey door to the studio was slightly ajar and you stepped in to take one last look. You took a deep breath, inhaling the earthly, cinnamon scent Changbin had. Ultimately, you decided to leave the note on his keyboard knowing he’ll be more likely to look at it if it was in a place he spends time in. Waving goodbye at the house sadly, you left your key on the table and walked out.
When Changbin got home, he went straight to the studio, not checking on you. He growled at the sight of the note on the keyboard and threw it in the trash. Couldn’t you see? He doesn’t want to talk to you. Annoyed that you were even in his studio, he locked the door and made a mental note to lock it all the time. Satisfied that you couldn’t annoy him, he started working on his project. He finished in an astonishingly fast time which forced him to find something else to do for the time being. Changbin stood and stretched, his bones cracking and popping. Quietly, he opened the door and headed to the kitchen for some food. Normally, you’d be cooking at this time but he frowned when he saw no you and no food, on the table or in the fridge. Maybe you went on vacation and didn’t tell him. Take out it is.
The next few days of silence turned into a month with no word from you. The house was collecting dirt and clothes were piled on different places on the floor almost like a teen male’s room. The silence was odd but you were okay, Changbin told himself. Although, he may seemed unfazed, he was getting tired of takeout and missed your home cooking. Surely you left something that said where you were going. He suddenly recalled the long note he threw in the trash. His mind told him that he was stupid for digging through the trash for something that he didn’t care about. Changbin was frantically digging until he saw the pristine white and carefully folded paper. For the next few hours, the male sat on the floor, back to the wall, crying as he read and reread the words cursing the page. His fingers shook as he traced the way you wrote his name with the curls on the a and the cute heart dotting the I. 
How could he fuck up like this? Changbin reminisced on the early days before uni ate away at his soul. The things he fell in love with flashed through his mind. Your smile when you cracked a joke or pun, your sweet laughter you gave when he flirted with you, the way you cared for others before yourself. You watched your phone vibrate on the table as Changbin’s name flashed across the screen. On the other side of the call was Changbin who threw his head back to hold in his tears as your voicemail played. The signature beep played and he forced his voice steady. “Please come back, I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” He hung up and eventually cried himself to sleep on the cold, hard floor. You on the other hand, scoffed at the simple voicemail. If sorry was all he could muster then why did you waste your precious time on him?
_________________________________
Mark took you to the park to take your mind off of the entire situation after a week of you listening and re-listening to the voice mail. “Hey look! There’s an ice cream store!” You jumped up and down and ran towards the ice cream store, ignoring Mark telling you to wait up. The light turned green and you stopped, pouting as you watched the cars speed past you. Apparently, you weren’t fast enough. When the light turned red, you and Mark walked across towards the store. “Doesn’t Chan sunbae work here?” The boy shrugged and held the door open for you. “Such chivalry!” You gasped dramatically and sashayed through the door with Mark laughing at your antics. Sure enough, the curly blonde you mentioned earlier was standing behind the counter chuckling at the scene he just witnessed. 
“Hey, guys.” “Hey, sunbae!” He huffed before reminding you that you are not in school and you don’t need to call him sunbae all the time. “Of course I do. Until you graduate, you will be my sunbae and you can’t do anything about it.” Chan reluctantly gave up and took your orders. You sat at the bar with your cotton candy milkshake watching Mark get a brain freeze. Since there was no other customers, Chan leaned onto the counter to chat with you guys. “Where is Changbin?” A small sigh left your lips. “I don’t know. Probably at home, living his best life now that I’m not being a nuisance to him.” Before Chan could say how wrong you were, the door alarm rang signalling a customer. “C-Changbin?” The name caused you to choke on your drink and turned towards the door.
The mentioned made his way up to the counter, not realizing that you were there yet. “Chan, I can’t do this. I fucked up with her.” From the side, you could slightly see Changbin’s puffy face peeking out of the hoodie he had on. The one that you gave back to him when you left. “Mate, are you sure you want to talk about this here?” “I just need- I need someone to talk to.” His voice was barely a whisper but it still came out clear and pained. Mark glanced at you with worry, making sure that you didn’t want to leave just yet, that you were ready to confront your complicated relationship. You just stared at the short male in shock. “I don’t think you want to talk to me about your relationship. I think you should talk to them.” Chan nodded towards you and Changbin turned to meet your wide eyes. 
He carefully walked towards you scared that you might run. Now that you could see his face fully, you could tell that he had been crying and looked like shit. “______-” Changbin’s voice cracked. The caring side in you took over and your hands held his now slim cheeks. He was as fragile as porcelain ready to break if you weren’t careful. But you broke him. The boy let out a strangled sob and laid his hand on your hand. There was no use in speaking, you’d just break him even more. Instead, you rested your forehead on his and let him cry. “I’m sorry.” He said in between breaths. “I’m sorry I wasn’t good e-enough and I didn’t appreciate you and- I became distant cause I was scared o-of getting too attached and- hurting you or me b-but I realized that it’s too late.”
Changbin took a breath and choked out the last few words. “B-Because I already got too attached.” You knew you still loved him and tried to keep a hard facade but those words caused your walls to crumble. “Oh, Binnie...” Your voice was soft. “I promise that I’ll never t-treat you like shit again.” You shifted, pulling him closer, inhaling that familiar scent that made you feel safe. “I’ll only accept that if you pinkie promise.” He smiled slightly and intertwined your pinkies together before releasing. “C-Can I kiss you?” You didn’t respond verbally, you just kissed him softly. You giggled when you heard Chan and Mark cheer in the background quite possibly recording this to play at your wedding because they’re that type of friend. 
Pulling away, you wiped Changbin’s face with a napkin and placed a chaste kiss on his nose. “Let’s all go eat! My treat.” Chan said while hanging up his apron and clocking out watching as his coworker took his spot. “Thank you, sunbae!” “I- You’re hopeless.” Chan waved bye to the coworker before pushing you guys to the restaurant down the road. Changbin never let his hand leave yours even when you ate. “Binnie. I’m not going to run away again.” He pouted but let go of your hand and you couldn’t help but squish his cheeks. “Eat up! You’re looking like a skeleton. I’m going to feed my baby well when we get back home.” “You mean, no more takeout and no more burning down the kitchen?” “Wait- What did you do to my kitchen?” The table erupted in laughter and Changbin promised to replace the pan he ruined. 
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theraputicwritings · 4 years
Text
Fragile Masculinity
A/N: I’m back and I am soooo happy! It’s been a long two years without writing and I apologize for it. I’ve been dealing with a lot that’s made it difficult for me to find inspiration and motivation to write. But lately, I’ve felt the bug. I’ve been rewatching Criminal Minds and have really wanted to write about Spencer Reid. I’m moving next week and I plan to write a story, blurb, or maybe even start a full ass fic every night that I am on the road. Should be about five days and I’m excited for the challenge. In the mean time, I wanted to share this story that I’ve had in my brain for the past week and I finally sat down to write it two days ago. It’s my first Spencer x reader and I really hope you all enjoy it. It was fun to write which is exactly why I love writing so much!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader
Word Count: 2,988
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of murder, rape, torture, fluff, angst
“You could certainly say that I’ve never underestimated myself. There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious.” – Angela Merkel
Another difficult case. All of the cases had their own thing that made them unique and difficult but this one just took the icing on the cake. Five women. All cops. All tortured, raped, and then murdered. Their bodies had been discarded like trash. It had been two days and while the team had developed a profile, it didn’t feel like they were any closer to finding the unsub who was doing this.
You had just finished making two cups of coffee, one black and one with an ungodly amount of sugar.
“Here, just the way you like it,” you said, handing the coffee to the BAU’s resident genius, Spencer Reid.
“Thanks…” He took the cup but didn’t turn to look at you. His face was set and focused as he stared at the map on the case board.
You sighed and faced the board as well, staring at the different victims who had died. Two of them while you were in the small town. You couldn’t help but feel a level of responsibility for their deaths. If the team had just been there sooner, maybe those women would still be alive.
“Hey, sweetheart, why don’t you make me a cup of coffee too?”
The voice made the hairs on your arms stand up and you could feel Spencer tense up as well.
It was one of the officers of the precinct. This was the third time he’d asked you to make him a cup of coffee. The first time you were already by the pot, so you made him a cup to be polite. The second time, you were just about to give the profile and you’d declined, using the excuse of being busy. It had been annoying before, but now it just felt plain disrespectful.
You slowly turned to him and raised an eyebrow. He had a smug look on his face and it made your blood boil even more.
“First off, it’s Agent. Not sweetheart, not honey, not babe. Agent. Second, I’m not an intern, secretary, or assistant. Go make your own damn coffee. Now if that is all…”
You trailed off and smoothly turned back to face the case board and your partner. You stayed silent until you heard the officer’s heavy boots stomp away.
Before you could say anything, Spencer chuckled under his breath.
You turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
“What? Did you think that was too much?” Your voice dared him to disagree, but you knew that he wouldn’t.
You two quickly became good friends when you joined the team. Lately, you’d been getting signals that maybe Spencer wanted to be more. You wouldn’t have minded it, honestly. The two of you got along really well and you did care for Spencer. But with work, thinking of a relationship got pushed to the back corner. You didn’t have time to pine over a relationship. Especially at that moment.
“No, I’m surprised you didn’t snap sooner,” Spencer smirked and took a sip of his coffee.
You shook your head and smiled.
“He’s just lucky that didn’t happen. I don’t think his fragile masculinity could handle much more.”
With that, you spent the next several hours, pouring over the case together. Based on the victims and how they died it was so clear that this man despised women and maybe even more so women with some form of power. He saw them as a threat to his masculinity and so did everything he could to tear them down. Based on the profile he was probably in his mid to late thirties and cocky. He had a dominant personality but had probably had his masculinity squashed throughout his childhood and adult years. Now he was trying to prove himself in the only way he could think to do it.
The profile was detailed and good, but there was something missing in it. It was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t tell what.
By the time the rest of the team had come back, you weren’t much closer to finding it, but it was starting to get late into the day. You weren’t going to give up though. More than likely there was going to be another woman missing tonight and you wanted to find the bastard before that happened.
When the words started to swim off of the case board, you decided to step outside for some fresh air. It was cold, and there was a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. It woke you up more than the coffee had and it helped refresh your brain.
As you looked up at the clear night sky, you thought more about the case. Clearly, you weren’t making the connection on something but you couldn’t tell what. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you didn’t hear the familiar heavy boots as they came up to you.
“I’ll show you fragile masculinity.”
The voice was low and followed by a swift blow to the back of your head. Instantly you dropped like a bag of potatoes and were out cold.
———
Back at the station, it had only been a few minutes, but Spencer had already noticed you weren’t back yet. It wasn’t that he stalked you, but you’d caught his eye since the day you joined. It was difficult to admit, but Spencer liked you a lot more than just a friend. You stood out in a room. You were witty, bright, and you always took an interest in Spencer. Even when the team shut his ramblings down, you encouraged him to continue or would ask him about it later. You cared for him and it made him feel good.
“Hey guys, has Y/N returned? I haven’t seen her.”
After a chorus of no’s and head shakes, Spencer stood up from the conference table.
“I’m gonna go check on her, make sure she’s okay.”
He didn’t know why but he had a gut feeling that something was wrong.
His instincts were right, of course. When he got outside, his keen eyes instantly spotted the blood on the ground where you’d been attacked. As soon as he saw it, his head jerked up and looked around the dark street. There was a clear path where your body must have been dragged off.
Spencer knew he should have grabbed the team, but with the snow coming down, he didn’t want the tracks being covered. So he drew his gun and slowly started to follow the drag marks. They only led to an alley where a car must have been parked waiting. From the tire marks, he could tell it was a large truck, but the snow made it difficult to find out which direction you had been taken in.
Quickly, Spencer ran back into the police station and burst through the conference room doors.
“She’s gone!” He exclaimed! “There’s blood outside and I followed his tracks but it led to nothing. Guys, I think the unsub has her!”
His voice was panicked and immediately everyone jumped into action. Morgan and Emily ran outside to get a better assessment of the crime scene. Meanwhile, Rossi and Hotch asked Reid questions about what he’d seen and started working on finding out who had grabbed you.
——-
You woke up in a dark room and the first thing you realized was pain at the base of your skull. The second thing you realized was that your hands were tied above your head and you were dangling from the ceiling. With a groan, you blinked and tried to adjust your eyes to the darkness.
You didn’t have to worry about that too much though, because in seconds the overhead lights had been flickered on. You closed your eyes hard as the brightness made your headache only that much more intense.
When it didn’t seem to be that bad, you slowly blinked and took in your surroundings. Your profiler brain worked quickly as you figured out that the unsub must have taken you. It looked like you were either in a basement somewhere or in a cellar. You could tell you were underground though. It was very cold and that’s when you noticed you were only wearing your underwear and a tank top.
“Well don’t you look all pretty dangling like that. I could just eat you up, sweetheart.”
As soon as he said sweetheart, your body tensed. You knew exactly who it was and you kicked yourself for not realizing who the unsub was sooner. It was the officer who you’d snapped at.
The young man sauntered down a flight of steps and you mentally willed for him to fall. That didn’t happen, of course, and has he got closer, you braced yourself.
You didn’t acknowledge him though. You knew any response wouldn’t do you any good. This man wanted to hear you be afraid of him and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.
As he got in front of you, he grabbed the chain that was dangling you from the ceiling. It was attached to some sort of pulley and he used it to slowly drag you down until you were forced to be on your knees in front him.
“Now look at that? Doesn’t that just feel right sweetheart? You’re exactly where a woman should be. Beneath the man, ready to submit and serve him.”
Your face was defiant as you looked him right in the eye.
“I wouldn’t submit to you if you were the last man on earth. Go to hell.”
This made him smirk and he yanked you back to your feet. You could feel your arms screaming in pain as you stretched into the awkward position.
“You know, if you had just kept your pretty mouth shut, smiled, said yes sir, and made me a cup of coffee, you wouldn’t be in here. But now you are. And by the time I get through with you, you’re going to submit.”
His voice was calm and that almost scared you more than anything else. He’d clearly had the practice of torturing women before and you mentally prepared yourself for what you knew was about to happen. All the while praying that your team would find you still alive. And if they didn’t… well, you hoped they didn’t grieve for too long. And you didn’t plan to go down without a fight. There was no way you were going to submit to this pig.
———
You didn’t know how much time had passed. The only thing you knew was the pain. But you hadn’t made a single sound, not a tear was shed. You just continued your hard stare into this man’s eyes as he performed different types of torture. At first, he had just used his fists. When that didn’t get the response he wanted he found a crowbar and started to use you as his own personal piñata.
You didn’t know how much more you could take. Your arms were exhausted from holding up your weight and if you were correct, this torture was about to take a turn for the worst. You weren’t planning to submit physically or mentally, which meant this monster of a human was going to force you to submit sexually and then kill you. It’s how all of his other victims had died and you weren’t looking forward to dying the same way.
After one particularly bad blow to your rib cage, he threw the crowbar down in frustration.
“Submit!” he screamed in your face.
Your face hardened and you calmly said, “No. I will not submit to you. I’ll die before I submit to any man.”
His face red and veins bulging out of his forehead and neck, he yanked your chains so you were on the floor.
“Fine. I’ll make you submit, sweetheart. And you’ll like it too.”
Just as he grabbed your hair by the base of the skull, a loud bang came from above you. Your face brightened as you realized your team was coming. This was going to be over soon.
“You lose. You will never be able to hurt anyone again.”
If it was even possible, his face turned even redder. He let go of your hair and let chains fall completely loose so that you were nothing more than a heap on the floor. Your arms were so exhausted, you couldn’t even hold the weight of your traumatized body.
“This isn’t over,” he growled before taking off out a backdoor that you hadn’t noticed before.
It didn’t matter though, because within seconds after, the basement door had been kicked in and you heard people running down the stairs. You felt warm hands on you and you looked up to see a concerned Spencer trying to get the chains off of you.
“He went outside, he went that way,” you managed to get out.
You’d kept your head level that entire time, but now that you knew things were safe, it was like you could feel all of the emotions of panic, fear, and hopelessness bubble out of you.
You gasped out a sob and fell into Spencer as he finally freed your arms from their chains.
“I know. Morgan’s going after him. You’re safe now.”
Spencer carefully held you up as Hotch’s stern voice called for a medic. You felt a large hand caress your head and despite your fears and panic, you felt the safest you’d felt all day.
——
It didn’t take long for the medics to come down to whisk you away to the nearest hospital. Spencer stayed with you the entire time, but the two of you didn’t say much. He kept his hand wrapped around yours and would occasionally give you a grounding squeeze but that was it.
You didn’t mind though because it gave you time to ponder over this new side of Spencer. You knew that Spencer cared for the team like they were his family, but the protectiveness and worry he’d shown over you was different. It made you reevaluate whether a relationship could happen between the two of you. It made you question everything you felt about the doctor sitting next to you.
When you arrived at the hospitals, paramedics quickly wheeled you in, breaking the contact you had with Spencer. You turned your head to look back at him and again was met with a look of concern that no one had ever shown you before.
It wasn’t until you’d been settled into a room that you saw Spencer and your team again. The doctors had given you a nice dose of pain medication and explained that you had a few broken ribs and lots of bruising, but nothing that required surgery.
“We’ll be leaving tonight, but the jet will be coming back to take you and Reid home in a few days. I’m really glad you’re okay, Y/N.” Hotch’s voice held the same monotone undulation, but you could tell his words of comfort were genuine by looking at his eyes.
After a few more pleasantries among the team, a nurse came by to inform them that you needed to rest. A round of hugs, kisses, and goodbyes later and it was just you and Spencer.
There had never been such a thing as awkward silence between the two of you for as long as you’d known Spencer. But there certainly was now. Finally, you broke the silence by taking a long deep breath.
“You don’t have to stay with me tonight, you know? Or the next couple of days either. I know you’d rather sleep in your own apartment.”
Spencer smiled slightly before shrugging.
“It’s alright. I want to be here with you. You shouldn’t be going through this alone.”
Another awkward silence fell between you and it hung for a few more minutes before you both started talking at the same time.
“Thank you by the way-“ “Will you go out with me sometime?”
The question seemed to shock both of you and you blinked twice.
Again, your voices interrupted each other.
“Sorry—“ “Wait, what—“
Before you knew it, you were both giggling at the awkwardness. It was like you were two high school kids in a rom-com.
The giggles were cut short though when the movement caused pain to sharply spread across your chest.
“Ow,” you groaned as you wrapped your arm around your middle.
“Y/N,” Spencer started, moving his chair so he sat right next to you. With slight hesitation, he reached across and took your free hand.
“When I realized you had been kidnapped, I realized something else. And that’s that I have strong feelings for you. I have for a while. I don’t know if it’s love or affection, or maybe it’s both. But I do know that when I saw you in that man’s basement, I couldn’t wait much longer to tell you how I feel. So if you’ll allow me, I’d like to take you out on a date.”
The declaration surprised you and you took a moment to think about it. You’d be lying if you didn’t have feelings for Spencer as well. But you’d done everything you could to suppress them. This job was obviously dangerous and you and Spencer both knew how it could be to lose someone you love because of it. And there were also the worries of if you were to break up at any point. You’d still have to work together and you didn’t want to lose the work dynamic you two had over a breakup or a lovey-dovey relationship.
But you didn’t want to say no. Today had made you realize that life could be ended in a moment's notice. You didn’t want to waste it on what-ifs and could be’s.
So you didn’t hesitate for too much longer before saying, “Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you.”
“I always did something I was a little not ready to do. I think that’s how you grow. When there’s that moment of ‘Wow, I’m not really sure I can do this,’ and you push through those moments, that’s when you have a breakthrough.” – Marissa Mayer
————
Thank you so much for taking the time to enjoy my story. As promised, here is your tag @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal I hope you all enjoyed my story. If you have any suggestions for stories or requests, please fill my messages! Love you all!
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rosethebookworm · 4 years
Text
Safe?
This is my take on what happened when Logan got yanked out of the episode, I just had to write it.
Aka:
Logan finds himself in the dark side of the Mindscape and isn’t quite sure what to make of what he finds there.
Warnings: Remus being himself, (mentions of bloody things etc), Spoilers for the new episode! Mentions of the other sides I guess? (sorry for the long post, I don’t know how to put things under the cut)
.•°°•..•°°•..•°°•..•°•. .•°°•..•°°•..•°°•..•°•. .•°°•.
When Logan was unceremoniously dumped into the ‘dark side’ of the Mindscape, robbed of his tie, and left in darkness, there were several questions that were prominent in his thoughts. The most bothersome of those, however, was what in the world was he standing in.
Lifting up a shoe, it was slightly unnerving to find that it stuck to the floor ever so slightly, and with a faint grimace Logan forced himself to ignore that sensation and instead continued on. He couldn’t stay here in the ‘dark side’ of the Mindscape, even if the others had not been appreciating his information- no, that was an issue to be dealt with at a later date, not when he was currently walking along ground that was unnervingly sticky.
Eventually Logan began to hear what he believed was loud singing, followed by a similarly unsettling thwack of a weapon against flesh, and reluctantly turned his feet towards that direction. Seeing as he was not well versed in the mental map of the ‘dark side’ of the Mindscape, it would be important to find someone who would be at least somewhat helpful in finding his way back to the others. He was not going to think about whether or not they would want him to return, that was not something he was supposed to worry about.
Luckily, his feet stopped sticking to the ground as he came closer to the sounds, instead his feet sinking into soft mud that Logan would argue was objectively better than whatever that previous substance had been made up of.
“Remus!”, Logan called, now close enough to see the green-clad side smashing through what looked like badly rendered figures that somewhat resembled monsters- badly rendered simply because they were so bloodied. His call had caused Remus to pause mid-swipe, and the song to stop, Remus instead letting out a delighted cry and rushing over to Logan as though about to hug him, Logan reflexively stepping back and holding out a hand- he was not in the mood for hugs, he was simply on a mission.
“Come down for a visit? You even lost your tie! That’s a shame because I’d love to use that tie to-“, Remus began, eyes lighting up as he swung around his morningstar in order to emphasize his sentiment- however he was quickly cut off by Logan beginning to speak. It was a little strange to Logan that that had been enough to gain the others attention and listen, whereas the others sides were known for- no, once again, this was not the time nor place to think about the other sides.
“I did not willingly come down here, Remus. Deceit had ah... taken my place, and seemed to think that bringing me here would keep me out of sight. I am looking to return to them in order to offer more context to their moral argument.”, Logan explained, shifting slightly in order to keep his feet from sinking too deeply in the mud.
“You’re leaving so soon?”, instantly Remus’ shoulders sank and his eyes darkened slightly, a strange reaction, at the realization that Logan was just here to leave again.
“Yes? They are in need of my facts, even if they do not realize their necessity to the conversation at hand.”
“They don’t realize- I’m going to kill them! I’m going to crack open their skulls and use all of their squirmy little brains as spaghetti with their eyes as meatballs!”, Remus screeched, his eyes even wider than before as he swung around his morningstar angrily, turning as though he was about to go and rip the spines out of the other sides, before Logans hand on Remus’ shoulder made him freeze.
“Do not bother with that. It would only serve to make them more terrified of you, which would be overwhelmingly damaging to Thomas’ already fragile mental state, and I have enough trouble getting them to listen to me without you overriding their fears.”, Logan cautioned, trying to speed past the fact that the other sides had a frequent problem of ignoring Logans input.
Remus had stilled, morningstar dragging on the ground as he peered at Logans face. It was slightly unnerving to the other, to be studied so closely by someone who was hardly ever seen to be serious.
“Let’s see what they thought of your disappearance then, they couldn’t forget their dearest little glasses wearing dork! Which means-“, Remus quickly changed his pace, sending Logan an alarmingly sharp grin as he threw an arm over the other sides shoulder and gestured to the ceiling, Logan coughing pointedly in order to cut the others words off, causing a raspberry to be blown at him in retaliation.
But strangely, even with the chaotic sides arm around him, Logan did not feel unsafe, in fact it was oddly comforting, not that he would ever admit that.
Waving a hand, the dark sky slowly shimmered into a view of the others- Patton had become a frog? Was this another one of Remus’ strange fantasy’s? A quick look at Remus’ face proved otherwise as the sides face pulled into a displeased one, once again waving his hand and rewinding the images until it was back to when Logan got pulled off of the screen.
Together they watched as Patton, Roman and Thomas continued to argue past Logans Disappearance, not one of them commenting on Logan getting pulled away. Together they watched as the conversation shifted entirely away as Deceit revealed himself and shifted into himself as they all became a video game. Together, as Logan felt his heart drop lower and lower with each passing second, and Remus’ grip on his shoulders became more and more protective.
“I have seen enough. Thank you, Remus.”, Logan finally managed quietly as the others continued to fight, Remus instantly sprinting up and slashing through the screen with his morningstar which brought to mind Romans similar action with his sword from earlier, though this time the action did not displease Logan.
Remus turned back to Logan, and the other was surprised to find his face shinning with tears. ‘Dark Creativity’ crying? That was peculiar, but Logan did not even feel any ounce of curiosity as to why he was upset, instead Logan simply felt numb.
“You’re not going back to them. If they won’t appreciate you, I will.”, Remus growled, and for a moment Logans mind connected the man before him to some sort of attack dog, ready and able to destroy anyone who stood in his way.
“I must return to him. Thomas’ mental health is more important than I am. Besides, I am very used to them not acknowledging me, Remus, that is nothing new. Their... clear absence of concern is... is something I have not witnessed before.”, he mused softly, eyes glancing upwards towards the darkness where the images had been but now only comforting darkness was surrounding them.
Remus growled, clearly not pleased with Logans insistence that he needed to return but he sighed, defeated again by Logan.
“Will you come back? I created this delightful chess set the other day where the pieces have to fight to the death and smash each other into the ground- pure mindless fighting! But maybe you could order the pieces against me? It’s gets more boring than Roman’s rants about Disney to fight against myself.”, Remus asked, something similar to what Logan would call a “puppy dog” look on his face, and for the first time Logan allowed a look of shock to cross his face.
“You want me to teach you how to play chess? Well, if the pieces destroy themselves then I would assume it would be closer to wizards chess which is still objectively fascinating, but still, you would want me to teach you about a variant of chess?”, he questioned, sounding genuinely shocked, something that made Remus’ expression turn to something mischievous- not malicious, oddly enough.
“Well you are a teacher after all! Unless you don’t think you could teach me, maybe I’m too difficult for the little teacher man to tame.”
“I... I will return then, Remus. It would be... mentally stimulating to teach you how to play wizards chess and... perhaps a needed distraction from the days activities.”, Logan acquiesced, and Remus instantly began to celebrate, rushing forward and kissing Logans cheek before continuing his strange dance into the distance, cheering something about getting the board set up with all sorts of fun obstacles.
“Remus I still need a way out-“, the glasses wearing side called out, sounding amusedly exasperated, which surprised himself. Since when was he amused by the others antics?
“Oh! Be sure to tell SnakeShit that he is not welcome home tonight and he has to sleep in the shed with worms and spiders and snails and-“, Remus’ voice faded out as Logan felt himself begin to disappear, the man suddenly coming to the realization that his tie was missing, before subsequently realizing that Remus has thought of that, and once again he had his signature tie on.
“Not that any of you care, but I am unharmed, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just here to deliver one last fact, and then I will do you all a favor and spare you my company.”
After the others had been sufficiently schooled, Logan kept to his word and sunk down, back to his room. He was not expecting Remus to have actually meant it, and he was not entirely sure he would be able to sink to the ‘dark side’ of the Mindscape.
However, Logan was greeted with the sight of a mostly clean Remus perched on his pillows, a disappointed look on his face.
“You said you’d come baaaaaack.”, Remus whined, sending a pout Logans way and fingering his morningstar as though tempted to swing it through a wall.
“I- I had not truly thought you would still want me to come, or that I would be able to find you in the da- other side of the Mindscape.”, Logan explained, looking ever so slightly baffled even as Remus beamed, jumped up from the bed and rushed over to grab Logans arm.
“Well why didn’t you just say so instead of standing there like a corpse stuck in concrete! We are gonna have so much fun- I already have the pointy men all set up and ready for us to destroy!”, Remus cheered as the room slowly started to dissolve around them, something that had often been the cause of concern for Logan, especially when Remus’ twin was involved, but strangely was not concerning at all.
“You mean statues, correct? Wizards chess is played with statues of people, not actual people.”, Logan corrected, sounding vaguely exasperated, glancing over at Remus with a raised eyebrow.
“But humans are so much more satisfying to destroy!”
Came the gleeful response as Remus smirked back at him and laughed as the room fully dissolved. However the cackle did not alarm Logan- for a moment as a room melted in around them, revealing a large chessboard with suspiciously human-like pieces, Logan felt safer and more comfortable than he had in a while. Perhaps he would stay down here for some time, the others clearly did not value his input, and Remus was already waiting for his explanation of the game with a strangely endearing expression of interest.
Maybe someone was willing to listen to Logan after all.
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comradelionheart · 3 years
Text
This is where I feel safest.
In the blueness of this site, held in comfort as if under my blanket of soft fur.
No one here will ever know who I am or the people I speak of. No one can find me here. I have a questionable habit of running off to avoid being witnessed when I fail or am in pain, and this is where I run to. It is luckily not a boy this time. Well, it’s sort of that too, but not predominantly.
I haven’t shut G out this time. When I thought I’d lost my shot at the job I deleted my WhatsApp and all other social media, and refused to surface until I was willing to face people again. This isn’t unlike when I graduated college uncertain of what to do with life next and just... vanished. I’d a pretty promising presence on Facebook that could potentially have introduced him and I sooner, but I guess life unravels at its own pace and nothing can force it to go sooner or slower. I’ve grown rather accepting of failures because I have unfortunately grown accustomed to them. It’s almost like I expect to meet with resistance or failure each time something nearly works out and in this case I can’t say I willed it upon myself. I literally tested positive for TB. Which is amusing since those are my ex’s initials, and is yet another TB which seems to be hampering my progress. 
Dry humour is what I’m best at if I’m being my authentic self. I must unfortunately smile and wave because I’m a woman and need to be likeable to get anywhere in my line of work. That isn’t to say I’m a sociopath or hate people. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend to be interested in their lives and feign amusement at their not so novel ideas. Pretty sure I’ve not so novel ideas too, but I don’t need to be indulged for the sake of my (not) fragile ego. Anyhow.
I applied for this job early in the year and didn't expect to hear from them (because the first few years of my work life had me flailing and coping with depression instead of steering my career, and I know I shouldn’t grudge her for this but I do). But I did hear from them. And everything went through. Including 3 rounds of aptitude tests and a personal interview (which I thought I bombed but didn't somehow). Until I tested positive on a skin patch test for TB. Why do these stupid standard sets of tests get prescribed world over? Honestly, if I’m ever supreme leader of anywhere I will ban standardised tests. Not in the way that I say medicine is a sham, not at all, but in the way that WE LIVE IN THE THIRD WORLD AND WILL OF COURSE HAVE TAKEN THE BCG OR HAVE BEEN EXPOSED TO THE BACTERIA AT SOME POINT BUT IT’S NOT NECESSARILY EVER GOING TO BE ACTIVE SO USE A BETTER AND MORE CONTEXT SPECIFIC TEST INSTEAD OF GIVING ME ANXIETY AND EXISTENTIAL CRISES LIKE THESE, JFC. 😭😭😭
But I’ve taken the other test and that’s also got the drawback of being unable to differentiate between inert and active TB. So I took an HRCT scan. I’m so sick of running around hospitals, there’s a literal virus in the air. But Monday is when I’ll know the medical verdict. And then there’s the whole security check process. I hate when this happens but I’ve lost so much time to grief, I simply cannot sit around moping any longer. 
Earlier this year I interviewed with the **. I was given a verbal confirmation and had a text message implying an offer was made to me, because I received an acknowledgement to my acceptance of an offer. If I was the person I was in 2014, I’d have kicked up a fuss and made sure that offer was honoured, but 2021 me knows that working with bosses who go back on their word slyly and cave to nepotism usually need their cocks sucked. And I’m not only incapable of that, but have also dealt with enough workplace harassment elsewhere to be adamant about a brand at the risk of my mental health. But really, he can go suck it because I have confirmation from staff that he is EVERYTHING I read him to be. I’m not intuitive or anything, I just read people very well because I was hurt so bad by them (repeatedly since childhood) that reading people became a thing I did for survival. My sharp instincts serve me well, but are a trauma response. I am very self aware too, yes.
I then interviewed and got through an NGO that was willing to pay me 24L. I turned it down because the founders were running around like headless chicken with their inability to distinguish PR from Marketing Comms (me) from Marketing for business development. I know I was being paid a lot of money, but I will not kill myself performing all three functions while being acknowledged for just the one on my offer letter. I’ve learned to value my labour capacity and assert myself in the economic and political spheres. 
Personally though? I sometimes still think I’m a romantic pushover.
But this is about work because I need to weep a little before being calm about how this year has treated me. Especially since I’m maintaining a cool demeanour in public and literally hate sharing things I’m burdened with. Idk man, it makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like feeling like I’ll get a knife twisted in the spot that's most sore. I AM SCREAMING BECAUSE I HAVE LET G WITNESS ME IN PAIN THIS TIME INSTEAD OF RUNNING AWAY and will someday file copyright over An Enduring Romantic because that’s very honestly me. But ofc it isn’t going to be the legal Copyright, just the sham notice like the one I’d sent him to up his Instagram game. Or he could just operate my Twitter and I’ll run his gram. It’ll even feel natural.
Sometime around May an environmental journal asked me to come on board. Work from the office at the height of the pandemic with no travel compensation and very little money. I turned them down. Then came II**. Which I again turned down because they wouldn’t pay market rate for skills I’ve perfected in 4 years just because they wanted 8 years experience on paper for my quotation. I will do a lot for causes I love, but I also really enjoy being paid fairly and acknowledged for the value I bring to the table.
Then came the start up in Del. Which I turned down because the uncle running it in his wife’s name expected 24*7 labour availability for 12L with no health insurance.
The latest in my list of things I’ve turned down is the ** Gov. Which I can obviously go back to since my reason for turning it down was another job, but 14 days of leave all year? 7 day work week if needed? Hell no. I enjoy having labour rights. But also when I told the dude I’d be reporting to if I accepted that I cant accept due to covid concerns his reaction was “sure, send me an email so we can start looking for someone else immediately.” Like.... we just had a second wave, what if something was wrong? I wouldn’t risk losing my job because they expect work even if I were hypothetically coughing up blood. So best not to touch with a bargepole. Now I’m less sad, but also really hope the TB results are negative. This job I want and have said yes to ticks off all of the boxes in my head and I will truly be disappointed if I lose it to disease paranoia despite being completely suited and picked for the role 😞
Just to be on the safer side, I have taken one last shot at achieving my goal of ‘learn how political systems work so you know what you’re talking about first hand in that PhD.’ I hope my Plan A works out instead, though.
Since I’ve brought him up in this, it will be interesting to note that a year ago I did the erstwhile unthinkable act of cutting a friend of for attempting to steal a man I love. A year ago to the date, literally. Funny how this year is more calm, but I was maxed out on endorphins from him last year. Until this March even, if I’m being truthful. I don’t regret cutting her off.She crossed a vvvv red line. ALL my other friends are celebrating. They detested her. 
Another thing that happened last year was me letting him know that I only get hotter with time, but along with this work drama I have also had a run in with intense grief which I thought was a mood disorder (because it was intense, I mentioned?), cholesterol, thyroid, sugar addiction and now, le TB (PLEASE BE A FALSE POSITIVE YESU KRISTU HALP). So needless to say, I haven’t been most fabulous and undergone my physical transformation and these mental health struggles (are getting better now) strapped me to my couch along with the pandemic and its many lockdowns. I have also not studied for the GRE because I’m stimulus seeking via social media and fear of sucking at math has kept me locked in place. I still have a lot to work through on this front and would really like to make his cover right too, but my creativity isn't working and I keep fucking it up. I am not as spectacular as I was last year. The separation has also weathered my dazzle out a little and while I’m living with it, I still have small waves of sadness that show up once in a while.
I might have also accidentally flirted with someone into falling for me. It was all fun and games and for my pride, but now I’ve to gently let them down since I’ve cold feet and am chicken. Because I’m as emotionally unavailable as a streetlamp. Is this why they call me a Gurgaoni fuckboi?
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dikiyvter · 3 years
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Continuation from [X] w/ @cynicalartisan​:
They have grown comfortable. What a terrible mistake–
At first, they attribute their current state to simply… drinking a bit too much. Perhaps the exhaustion of the day is finally hitting them. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time such a thing has happened.
Still… it is growing worse. Lio rubs at their eyes, getting up and deciding the best thing for them is to go out and get some air. Yes, fresh air always does wonders for their mood and how they physically feel. A deep inhale is taken as they stretch their arms and take deep breaths in an effort to calm down. Perhaps a walk will help more. Yes… That will settle their head and help clear their thoughts.
And it is due to their current state that they fail to realize they are being followed. [...]
       HE HAD GONE OUT FOR A WALK. Something to ease the mind of the worries that often prevailed this time of night; It always seemed that as the sun began to go down so too did Rigatello’s ability to focus. Mind slipped eager from the letters he’d spent the bulk of the day reading and writing; Correspondence to and from Snezhnaya, Agents in Fontaine that claimed to hold intelligence on the location of the younger of two automatons, a letter from Pulcinella that he was far too anxious to open. So much to do, and yet, so little mental energy to complete such tasks. Fresh air was needed. A stretch of legs that ached from sitting all day long-- And as he stepped into the night air and felt the static thrum of his vision on his belt, the twitch of fingers eager to clasp tight around the hilt of an oversized blade, Rigatello decides that perhaps some hunting might be in order. Boar always led to a good run, though the kill was ultimately unsatisfactory. Hilichurls were a bit more FUN but never quite gave the chase he currently longed for. Trails of thought dulling observation as he wanders along, debating what it is he should do, wondering what will satiate that longing desire for VIOLENCE.
       A scream stops him short. Alarmed at the sound as he peers wide eyed at a heavy dark that falls between trees shortly off the path. A... fox, perhaps? No. As human as the things screams could sound, this was nothing like the cry of a fox. Something about it was far too... familiar. Static builds as he clenches his hands into fists, jaw set as he creeps cautious off the trail, towards the bushes, towards the trees. Were it not for the lingering nervousness the familiarity of the scream had given him, Rigatello may very well have continued on. Playing savior when one wore the Fatui emblem in a place such as Mondstadt was often a rather thankless job-- and wasting his time killing petty criminals was often more trouble than it would ever be fun.
       A stick snaps under the metal claw of his boot as he steps into a small clearing between the trees and the bushes, blinking through the light of the moon at what appears to be several figures-- That snap to attention as Rigatello’s presence becomes noticed. Nigh disinterested is the sigh that automaton lets out, well prepared to throw a few men around if it means rescuing some damsel from whatever it is they intend to do, voice spoken firm and clear as he utters “What’s going on...”
       Eyes catch movement; A man that rises off a figure pushed into the dirt, moonlight glinting off a blade, off blood-- And off ink-black horns that contrast sharp against blond locks that Rigatello recalls with clarity having run his fingers through just that morning. Words trail into nothing, eyes widened as he stares at the familiar figure on the ground. A mind blank in it’s processing as shock begins to give way to anger, the familiar clench of his fists at his side and the growing static that raises the hair on the back of his neck. An artificial heart that pulses in his ears so loud he does not hear the words spoken to him by the man closest.
             “This isn’t any of your--”
       CONCERN, even through the pale moonlight, is what Rigatello sees in the eyes of one of the other assailants as his hand shoot out and clamps down in a harsh grip on the mans face. For a moment, all is still. And then the calm before the storm gives way to the violence of anger-fueled predation, electro jumping forth with eagerness to burn at flesh beneath the gloved hand as Rigatello turns, grip tight enough to drag the pathetic creature with by the head, and with EASE does the construct lift him from his feet and though there should be GLEE as he CRUSHES HIS HEAD AGAINST THE TREE HARD ENOUGH TO SPLINTER WOOD AND BONE AND MAKE LIMP THE BODY THAT ONCE DARED HARM HIS DEAREST, all Rigatello feels instead is the beat of rage, the feral impulse, the hands that shoot forth as another assailant lunges for him; Blade meets cloth meets flesh of arm and dings off the metal beneath, fragile circuits cut that Rigatello does not notice in the rush of warmth that greets him when his teeth meet their neck and PULL the muscle clean from the bone and leave in its stead a gaping hole.
       Rigatello spits gore from his mouth as he snarls, vibrant gaze turned now to the one he dimly recognizes as having been atop his love, and in the moment their eyes meet does Rigatello watch in beastly glee that look of FEAR. The cogs of a human mind turning as he languishes for too long between FIGHT and FLIGHT and is forced into the FORMER. The saw bites down against the flesh of his shoulder at the same time his hand comes down against the assailants throat, gripping with a strength unrestrained until finally does he, too, STILL like the others.
       Not all the others.
       The beasts eyes catch the coward on the ground; clutching an arm already injured as he scrambles backwards blindly, further and further as the blood-stained Fatui executioner grows closer and closer. The gloves that he grips the cowards shirt with are now stained rich in blood and static, and with ease does he lift the fool off of the ground and dangle him at eye-level. 
       “Remember this,”  Rigatello speaks through a mouth that feels clumsy, words that fall gracelessly with the rumble of a growl still deep within his throat, “He is mine, and mine alone. Take that message to whoever needs to hear it.”
       He does not watch for the nod of agreement, of acknowledgement, of ANYTHING-- For the adrenaline begins to wear, and exhaustion and pain begin to cut deep. Without care does he drop the fool, turning in exhausted movements towards where his love lies still against the ground. Rigatello’s steps fall heavy as he approaches, stopping only to gather the vision that lays on the ground, rubbing it’s bloodied face against the fabric of his coat as he comes to kneel quietly beside Lio.
       “My love,” a whisper spoken soft through bloodied lips in comparison to all that he has done in the past few moments and gingerly does he ease Lio onto his back-- pressing the cleaned off vision against his chest and then cautiously taking much smaller hands into his own to press against the source of power, and though he longs to kiss his dearests forehead he refrains in want of not staining them further in blood-- least of all that which came from such a vile beast. Even as he reaches to brush hair from Lio’s face must he pause at the sight of bloodied gloves, flexing his fingers for a moment before sighing soft his resignation and moving on in hopes that merely being held will help to provide the comfort he longs to give.
       Arms hook behind their back and beneath their legs, a small warning of “I’m going to pick you up,” spoken before the automaton lifts them as though they weigh nothing-- and to him, they truly do not. The difference in size all the more obvious with them laying in his arms, and it reignites the anger he feels that someone could DARE do them harm-- ( followed quick by the rush of guilt that he had not arrived sooner, something he works to push far away knowing it will do nothing to help what is happening now )
       But it is not something he can spend the time focusing on, not while Lio is still injured. The cathedral is the best place to go, surely, and with that goal in mind does he quickly begin the walk back to Mondstadt-- the city seeming so far away, now, though he knows it is only a minutes walk until they are safely beyond the gates once more. He devotes that energy instead to holding them close, to keeping them safe, eyes peeled for any more threats as he begins the walk back, wincing every time that ( despite his best efforts ) he feels the small vision user in his arms be jostled as he navigates the rather rough path.
       “Lio,” a soft utterance, though he’s not entirely sure his love can hear him, “I’m sorry, please bear with me. We’ll be back in the city soon enough.”
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yanderecandystore · 4 years
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Hello everyone, sorry for the long wait, I wasn't feeling very well, I still feel a bit bad, but I at least managed to end this.
I'm going to sleep now, it's 01:00 here, it probably has a lot of errors and stuff.
(Damn, this is kinda cringy 😅😝)
Anyway, love y'all! 🥺😘♥️🐑🤔😴😓
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
Snow globe [Yandere Eldritch/God x Reader]
" In a little town, filled with little people, there was a little person named [Y/N]. In the little town, the little people would go through their routines. Like a clock, everyday, was the same as the last. But in a little town, filled with little people, no one seemed to be bothered by such thing."
" Things worked perfectly and in synchrony, there wasn't pain, there wasn't injustice, there wasn't conflict. There wasn't anything special about the little people in the little town, so why would even have anything such as conflicts? They were working perfectly on the grand machine where they lived."
" In such a perfect little world, why bother?"
" Who would be discontent with such perfection? Who would even think there is something wrong with such perfect little life?"
" Of course, it was the little person named [Y/N]."
" Little [Y/N], was a little human living in the little town. Their little town was tiny and perfect, but tiny little [Y/N] was so flawed, so, imperfect."
" [Y/N] was tiny as a bug, but their curiosity was too big to be contained. Their stubborn nature was too big to their little world. And so, they discovered the ugliest of truths."
" One day, while looking at the sky, they wondered why every day was the same as the day before, and why must they feel incomplete when there is absolutely nothing wrong in their lives."
" Answers came in the form of an interesting encounter, as a being far greater than little [Y/N], stared right at her. Recognizing the little thing that was lost in thought while looking at the sky."
" Wanting to see the little human more closely, the powerful entity started to get closer and closer to the glass selling that surrounded the tiny little town, the glass selling that protected their little town. Trying to analyze the little human so carelessly was not the most, intelligent approach, as the little human started to feel an even greater despair than before."
" "- What?!" Said the poor, little thing. Shaking by the fear growing inside their heart.
" Although it was not one of the powerful God's intentions to scare the little mortal human, it wasn't really their fault. Humans are just too fragile, just the sight of something greater than them, can create such convoluted feelings and thoughts."
" The same feelings and thoughts that the little human named [Y/N] was having."
" The little human couldn't take their eyes away from the monster God in the sky, they could only see one of it's many glowing eyes, staring right at them. But a feeling of immense dread was born into their little heart."
" ' What is that? Is that- What? No, that must be my imagination-' was what the little human was thinking. The powerful, destructive gentle being couldn't help but think of how silly your thoughts were. Yes, they're real, yes, you're seeing them."
" You're not the first one to notice them. But normally they would try to infiltrate and erase their memories before they could break havoc, but, they don't feel like doing that to you."
" It's nice to know that at least one of their little humans actually acknowledges their existence and presence. It's not really a welcoming acknowledgement like they expected, but being the kind, divine being that they were, they would let that ungrateful fearful look of yours to slide."
" You were charming, they couldn't lie about that, they tried looking at you more carefully, but then remember that they couldn't let other humans see them, that would create panic and conflict, and in the little town inside the little snow globe, that couldn't happen."
" They decided to distance themselves a bit, but still paying attention to the thoughts swirling on your mind."
" ' What was that? Am I'm going crazy? It stared at me, I started at it. I'm- I'm probably just stressed from work, right?! I should, really be going home now.' "
" Oh, look at that adorable little thing, trying to find a "reasonable answer" to something that isn't even a question to begin with! It's a 100% real what just happened. Your little mind keeps trying to comfort you by telling sweet lies for you to grasp on, stars, that is so infantile and innocent of you!"
" The being can't help but find you stumbling around trying to understand what you saw, cute. Or in a more accurate sentiment, find everything that you do as adorable."
" It's only natural of humans to be adorable, that's why this perfect little world was created, this little town, this globe."
"- So I can see it closer."
" After the incident that lead to their first encounter, [Y/N] couldn't shake away the feeling of being watched constantly. Of course they couldn't see anyone looking at them from their perspective, but if they looked up at the sky, that feeling would only grow."
" And yes, they were right, the gentle being couldn't help but keep an close eye on you."
"- So adorable."
" But after weeks of feeling this, they couldn't take it anymore, little [Y/N] was panicking, they tried to convince others of the "beast in the sky" to no avail."
" No one believed their words, and since they didn't feel safe being watched, they decided to stay home."
" ' Maybe it'll forget about me if I say here, it'll lose interest, I know it will!' What a foolish idea. And so disrespectful too, but then again,"
"- Maybe I do have some fault to this."
" After being called crazy, after feeling paranoid, after being left alone, family members started to get worried about you. Although, they didn't seem to be worried about you, more about how people would portray them if they didn't do anything."
" So they called help for you. Putting you in a "mad-house" was truly a genius idea."
" That way you would be safe, taken care of, loved while they didn't need to worry about you anymore!"
"- Isn't this perfect, [Y/N]?"
"- I normally never stay inside the globe for a long time, but I feel like this is the best option for the both of us. Although it was difficult to enter your parents minds and convince them that you were a burden to them and that you needed to be in a mental hospital, it was worth the trouble."
You start to shake uncontrollably to get away from this, this thing. When you were starting to wake up, you saw a "doctor" coming your way, while you're in bed, tied to it. Your doctor started to ask if you were feeling well, and then offered to tell a little story for you to calm yourself down. Since you feel like you might be losing your mind and that a little story could help, you nod to them. After listening for awhile you realized who your doctor truly is.
"- Oh, please, don't look at me like that, I'm doing this for your own sake!"
Your mouth is covered so that the others can't hear you screaming. Not that it truly matters, everyone is screaming. No one is going to care for you.
"- As your new doctor and savior, I need to start our procedures, soon enough you'll stop trying to get away from me."
As your doctor comes closer you start to get really desperate to get out. You close your eyes while shaking the bed.
"- Now, now, I need you to calm down, it may hurt a bit at first, but is the fastest way to convince you."
You look at it.
"- So please."
You probably shouldn't have looked at them, you feel weird, light-headed.
"- [Y/N]..."
You can see it transforming right in front of your eyes. Instead of looking like a normal human, your doctor's face looks like it has melted, it's starts to grow taller while it shakes uncontrollably, their skin going red at every step they take towards you. Multiple members started to spread along their body. Limbs start to tear away their uniform. More eyes open on it's skin.
It opens it's mouth, you can see pointy teeth and a large colorful tongue is coming out of it. It seems that more of it's "tongues" are appearing on it's skin, underneath their clothes and then tearing the fabric.
You are terrified to your very core. You don't want it anywhere near you. Yet, your wishes for mercy are unheard.
It moves the cloth covering your mouth with it's tongue and before you can scream, it feels your mouth with it.
It's rough, it's kinda sweet and sour, it sends shivers down your spine. You feel disgusting. Is too big for your mouth, so it hurts you. It forces you to look at it's eyes. Dark black eyes.
But then, you start to feel nothing. It doesn't hurt you anymore, it doesn't disgust you anymore.
You feel relaxed while starring at their dark eyes, until the only thing you can see is darkness.
You fall asleep.
"- … Look at me."
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
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drethanramslay · 4 years
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Part 5: Life and Death
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Pairing: Aurora x MC (Iris Everette)
Word count: 4.2 K words
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Warning: Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, torture, mention of suicide, violence slight description of blood. This chapter takes a dark turn and I am warning you guys.
Author's note: I usually keep this for the end but I just wanted to say, keep a box of tissues on standby.
Taglist: @miyakokurono @agent-breakdance @trappedinfandoms @vampiregirlsblog @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @lilyofchoices (let me know if you want to added or removed from the tag list)
Songs: Iris by Goo Goo Dolls , Numb by Declan J Donovan , Forever and Always by Parachute
Forgive me if there are any mistakes
"Seems like we will be here for sometime." Aurora said as she slid down to sit on the floor. Iris sighed as she sat opposite her.
A beat of silence passed over them, no one knowing where to start. Many times Iris opened her mouth and closed it like a goldfish, but nothing came out.
How did we come to this?
"I'm-" Iris began.
"Sorry." Aurora blurted out.
"What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything!!"
Aurora stammered. "I-I- I am so sorry that I called for a break when you were going through shit. I am so, so horrible and such a ginormous asshole-"
"NO." Iris moved towards and held her hands. "Do not for a second think that you are an asshole. You are an angel on this earth. A fucking blessing for my worthless self. You are- just...wow. I am so fucking lucky to have met you."
Aurora gave a small giggle. "You are not worthless babe." Iris smiled.  If she had a future, she would have spent all of the time making her smile and laugh.
"God I missed making you laugh so much.."
"I miss you too... You and me...are we good?"
Iris gave a fragile smile before sighing. "All my life, I have been alone. I had learnt from a young age that the world is evil place and that you can only depend yourself...when you left me, I could have spent a few days moping around and eventually gotten over you. It would have sucked but I would have been okay."
"Are you saying that you don't want me anymore?" Aurora's bottom lip quivered.
"No...the old me would have packed up and moved on....But I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to live alone anymore. I don't want to run anymore. I want to be with you. I want to see you happy. I want to share the good, the bad and the ugly..."
Aurora leaned forward and hugged Iris. Iris clutched on to her like she was the anchor in this shit storm. Aurora placed a kiss on her crown. A pregnant pause later, Aurora spoke up.
"Adara...what did you mean by 'don't waste tears on a dead woman'? Are you....sick?"
Iris sighed. "No I am not sick. Just that my luck is fantastic... Guess it's story time because I am just tired of hurting you and me.."
"I was adopted by Grayson Alejandro and Francesca Everette- Alejandro. My mom could not have babies as a result of a bad accident that's why they were forced to adopt. My mom loved me as if I was from her own womb, and not for a single moment did she make me feel neglected. She would sing me Spanish lullabies and hold me when the thunder would scare me. There will always be a place in my heart for her." Iris teared up a little. Aurora squeezed her tighter, not letting her go.
"My dad? Not so much. He always resented my mom for a problem which wasn't even her fault. And he hated me, because to him, I was just an outsider stealing away all his wife's love. He had his days when he he actually acknowledged that he was a  father and was a good husband... But those were so rare that I could count those instances on one hand.
When I turned ten, his business started dipping into losses. He made couple of bad investments, which just made situations worse. Instead of using his fucking brain and doing something about it, the fucker would go and get drunk. Initially, he would just head to his room and sleep it off... But then, shit hit the fan."
Iris took a deep breath, bracing herself to continue the story.
"I was home alone one day, just doing my homework on the dining table. My mom had gone out to get groceries. I was pretty comfortable staying by myself. He entered home, drunk as usual but, he was angry. I could feel his wrath, emitting from him like seismic waves. He wanted to vent it out. And what is better than a small ten year old girl-" Iris choked.
"He picked me up by the scruff of my neck and threw me across the room. I hit the wall hard and landed on my side. I was in shock. I didn't understand what had I done. When I proceeded to ask him what was wrong he became even angrier. He grabbed me by my hair and slapped me, screaming that 'I' was the reason behind his ruin. That I was just a cursed child."
"I ran to my room when I heard my mom's home keys jingling. I went to the adjacent bathroom and tried to provide first aid as best as I could. I had such a nasty bruise on my hip, that I couldn't sit for a couple days. But I played it of, and prayed that this was a one time thing."
"It again happened within three month's time. The frequency and the intensity of the beatings slowly increased. He broke my left wrist twice in a matter of eight months. He had become daring and it was becoming hard to hide it from my mom. I didn't want her to know this. She was already stressed with the financial situation and I didn't want her to be beaten up by Grayson."
"I had turned thirteen and that was the first time he made me bleed. Earlier it was just throwing me around, kicking me and a ton of nasty bruises. It was so bad. I think I had forgotten to switch off the hallway light that one night. So, he stormed into my room and dragged me out to the kitchen. He bent me over the kitchen counter and he took a steak knife-" Iris sobbed. Aurora was flabbergasted. She had tears streaming down her face.
Iris took a deep breath to centre herself. "The scars you see on the back of my legs? That was his tally. A track on how many times I misbehaved. I have 24 full lines and a half. I just lay there screaming till my throat was sore but he didn't once stop." Iris' hand unconsciously reached for the back of her legs, feeling them through her scrub material.
"Did he ever r-"
"Thankfully no. Otherwise I would have ended my damn life."
Aurora sobbed. "Please don't talk like that Adara..please.."
"I'm sorry Rory..." Iris kissed he cheek as they lay in each other's arms.
"He used to beat me up when my mom was not around. One day, she found him and the meltdown that happened..." Iris shuddered at the memory.
"Did he ever abuse your mom?"
"Emotionally? Yes. Physically? He just backhanded her once when she tried to step in. After he was done beating me black and blue, my mom would tend to my injuries. She would cry and try to kiss them better. She always put forth a strong front, to keep our hopes alive and to keep me motivated. But we knew, that nothing would ever be okay as long as he was around."
"When my mom was hospitalized, god, it was hell. He stopped me from going to school. He would lock me in my room, give me food once a day. He didn't allow me to go meet my dying mother. He tried breaking my spirit by making me weak so that he could easily treat me as his punching bag. Some days I was so bruised that I looked like a Dalmatian."
Aurora was full fledged crying. Ugly sobs poured out of her, her heart breaking for this beautiful trauma in front of her.
Iris continued, rushing to unload all her baggage. "When I got that call that she was going to die, I escaped through my window. I ran to the hospital just in the nick of time. My mom had tears in her eyes when she saw my state. I held her in my arms and comforted her, just like she used to do for me... She told me that she had collected money which was just enough for me to finish high school and get through college. She gave me her will, because she trusted absolutely no one. She apologized for not being brave enough. She told me to never let my-"
"-spirit break.." Aurora completed the sentence, remembering the night she stitched her up in the empty hospital room.
"Yeah... I said my goodbyes and she passed away in my arms. When I reached home, entering through my window, he was waiting there. He wasn't even drunk.. that day I got one of the worst thrashing ever. Broken wrist, black eyes what not. He cut of the electricity to my room. He cut the water supply to my room as well. He even went as far as to nail my window shut." Iris blinked and more tears fell on Aurora's scrub.
"How did you get out?" Aurora asked as she caressed Iris's hair.
"My room was facing my neighbor's  window and they were so close that you could look into the room. Two weeks after my mom passed away, a family moved in. My current lawyer, Thomas's room, was facing mine. When I saw him move in, I immediate stuck a help me sign on the window. It took some time but then it finally caught their attention."
"We conversed through the window and I told them everything. Thomas's dad was a lawyer and we slowly came up with a plan. They both came home one day when I was still locked in my room half dead from thirst and starvation. My father greeted them and let them in. They laughed and chatted. Thomas's even asked him if he had any children, and guess what he said... He didn't?! That motherfucker was so mental that he forgot about his daughter who he hit seven ways to Sunday."
Aurora just held on to Iris, kissing her crown repeatedly.
Shit. This just is so fucked up...
"They bugged my house with hidden cameras and microphones. The local police had been informed and they were just waiting for the right moment. And that moment came."
"Grayson was pissed when he came home that day. He unlocked my room and dragged me to the living room. He wanted me to get water for him or something but I was so weak that I couldn't even pick up a tray. So I tripped and fell. And, he went ballistic.”
“He picked me up and threw me into the coffee table. It shattered under me due to the force. The scars on my back, it was because a six inch long glass had embedded in my back. It was so close to my spinal cord that even if it would have moved a little I could have been paralyzed neck down. He kicked me so hard that I fractured my ribs. He brought his favourite steak knife to carve another tally mark. At that moment I thought I was gonna die. And, I wouldn't have minded that. I would be in a happy place with my mom. I would be free from all this."
"I waited for the final blow but it never came. Police had stormed in and they were restraining him. Paramedics were running towards me and then I blacked out."
Aurora shuddered. Her heart ached so much. Thu carry such a painful party, sure would have taken a toll on anyone. Even the most beautiful roses have thorns, to protect themselves from predators.
"Thomas's dad represented me free of cost. They were going to jail him for 25 years but I don't know how, his lawyer reduced it to 12 years. And as he was leaving the court room, he said quote unquote- ' Don't for a moment think that I am going to give up. When I come out, I am going to come for you and kill you."
"After that I stayed with the Mendez family. They were literally blessings on earth. They paid for most of my bills. Mrs, Mendez, after I came home from the hospital, made sure I ate four times a day. And Mr. Mendez employed a home tutor, to cover up the portion left, so that I could graduate on time. And Thomas, god he is such a sweetheart. Initially, if any male touched me I would go into a full fledged panic attack. He would always be there whenever I had an attack... He would watch shows with me and kept me company whenever he had free time. It had been so long since I felt someone loved me."
"You deserve every good thing in this world Adara. You are always worth it."  Iris gave a fragile smile.
"Thomas had gotten out of law school and I was his first client. I had to go through intense physiotherapy to regain my strength. I was in and out of hospitals, be it for follow-up surgery or therapy."
"Therapy helped a little but I don't think anyone can every get over something like this. I discontinued it when I entered med school because I wanted it to be a fresh start. I could have gone and worked in Seattle or any place I wanted but I came back to Boston. To my roots. To be closer to my mom. And now, he is back. I was running from him when you found me."
"Oh MY GOD. I AM GOING TO KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH. LIKE HOW DARE HE TRAUMATIZE MY GIRLFRIEND!! THE HELL HE IS GONNA LAY A SINGLE FINGER ON YOU. HE IS GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS I-" Aurora's angry rant was interrupted by a giggle.
She looked down and saw her giggling. "Gosh. OMG you look as angry as a little kitten. So cute." Iris giggled again.
"Hey! These hands can giveth life and taketh them as well."
They laughed a little more, before they settled in a comfortable silence.
"Why do you think people say I love you?" Iris asked.
"I dunno man. Maybe because they love each other." Aurora snorted, kind of confused by the sudden change in topic. Her heart was beating faster.
Oh it's happening. Aurora stay calm. STAY FUCKING CALM.
"Yeah I know but I honestly feel there is a difference in 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you'. The former is with family and friends who most of the times stay loyal to you. But the latter is when you have romantic feelings towards a person. It is just so weird y'know? There is just a difference of one word yet the meanings are so different."
"That's true. But why the sudden change in topic? Not that I mind." Aurora asked breathlessly.
Iris turned towards Aurora with vivid green eyes. "Because I am in love with you Aurora Lucille Emery."
Aurora's breath had been taken away for the second time that evening.
She loves me. SHE FUCKING LOVES ME.
With tears in her eyes, she cupped Iris' face, "I am completely and utterly in love with you too Iris Adara Everette. I have been since the day you broke Vincenzo's hand. I loved you even when we were on a break. And I will, continue loving you till the last breath."
The way Iris' face lit up, was one of the best things she had ever seen in the world. Their lips met and they could feel firecrackers burst around them, their hearts bursting with the amount of love they had for each other.
They were sitting on the floor of an elevator, which was stuck in a storm, but nobody gave a damn.
This was their moment.
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"So what do we do Thomas?" Aurora asked as she rubbed Iris' back. They were in Ethan's office, deciding what is the steps they need to take. Ethan was pacing in the office, his eyes looking like a slow brewing storm.
"Well first of all, we are going to apply for a protective order. Iris I know how you feel about it but that was a decade ago. The laws now will protect you better. Trust me." Thomas spoke in a very somber voice.
"Okay. Tell me what I need to do." Iris took a deep breath.
"Grayson was made aware of the restraining order filed against him by you. And since he violated them twice once by calling you and the second time by showing up at your work place, we can hold charges against him and that can throw him in a holding cell temporarily."
"That's good right? We need more time so that we can send his ass packing into prison." Aurora spoke with such determination that Iris was blown away.
"Now, Iris correct me if I am wrong, he threatened you, right?"
"Yes. He said that he would kill me. I can send you the voice recording now if you want."
"Yes, that would be perfect. Now I want you to listen to me carefully. I know that no court would be open now. So, go home and get your evidence ready. You will go to court the first thing in the morning tomorrow and sign the affidavit asking for the Protection Order. They will give you temporary one before they set a date for hearing."
"Do you have your restriction order on you right now?" Thomas asked.
"I have it with me. I will send a photo." Ethan piqued in.
"Good, good. After you assemble your evidence, go and stay in a hotel for the night. Take a friend or your girlfriend with you. It's so that nobody can get caught as collateral. And you can stay safe."
"Ethan and I will take her home and then head to a hotel." Aurora spoke into the phone.
"Yes. And I will be coming down tomorrow as soon as possible, 'kay? Luz would like to meet her aunty Iris as well."
Iris gave a small smile. "Thanks Tommy. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, bye Iris. Please stay stay and don't you fucking die."
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"If you don't come down in five minutes, I will call the police and the fucking army to storm your penthouse. And no, I'm not taking any criticism." Aurora spoke in a stern voice.
"Yes ma'am." Iris gave a fake salute. Despite things being bad, she felt some hope. Hope that this could end once and for all.
Hope. What a wonderful thing.
"I am going in with her." Ethan said as he unfastened his seat belt.
"Okay let's go." They both stepped out into the Boston night. Iris took a deep breath, smelling the night wind with hints of the sea. When she stepped into the lobby, she expected to see Hugh, their security guard but he wasn't there.
Huh. Strange. Must have gone to take a leak probably. Iris brushed off her doubts.
They stepped into the lift and she pressed the button to the penthouse level.
"Thank you Ethan."
"For what?"
"For helping me. You are my boss and you didn't have to-"
Ethan rolled his eyes and stopped her. "Shut up Everette. You are like a younger sister and I would really like to to see that asshole behind bars. So relax."
They reached the her home and she unlocked the door and entered.
"Go and get your stuff. I will be waiting in the living room."
Iris turned to head towards her room. She started packing her old papers, her restriction order and enough clothes for a night into a messenger bag. She was fast and thorough in her work. She was about to head out of her room when a crash and bang stopped her in her tracks.
It could not have been Ethan. Ethan was not clumsy and he had the hands of a surgeon. Stable and sure.
She picked up her trusty pocketknife and hid it in the sleeves of her leather jacket. She knew it wasn't much but it would atleast help her evade the attacker.
She slipped into the darkness, walking softly, making sure her footsteps weren't heard. She almost screamed when she saw Ethan's body, lying face down. She quickly rushed to his side, bend down and pressed two fingers to his neck.
She felt a pulse. It was weak but he would survive.
In the quiet environment of the penthouse, she heard the soft click of a gun. She froze in her place.
"He will survive. Didn't do much damage. But can't say the same about you mija. Get up. No funny moves."
Iris slowly got up. While she was at it, she sneakily speed dialed Aurora's number, so that Rory could hear some part of the conversation and call the police.
"Lift your hands."
She raised her hands above her head and turned around. "Grayson." She spat his name. She hoped that she won't be stick with this guy for a long time.
Stall him. Attack only when necessary.
"God you need to start showing me some fucking respect." He slowly stepped out of the shadows.
"I don't show respect to dickheads."
"Wow. When did you get so ballsy? The old you would be whimpering on the floor."
"I grew up. Matured with time. Can't say the same for you. You look like a wrinkly ball sack."
God Iris why can't you for once use your fucking mind and shut your trap. It's a life and death scenario, dammit.
"I'm gonna enjoy tearing you limb by limb." Iris looked around, assessing the place. The entrance was blocked by him and there was no point running into her room because that would be nothing but a dead end. The only place which looked like a safe bet was the kitchen island, where Sienna's knives set was placed. Finding the fastest route she turned her flashing eyes towards him.
"Try me bitch."
He let out a war cry and started shooting at her. Iris ducked and lithely slipped behind the island counter. She felt a twinge of pain in her arm, where the bullet grazed her but she didn't pay any attention to it. She grabbed the sharp knife and waited with bated breath.
I need to get that gun a way from him.
"Oh, so we are gonna play hide and seek huh? Ready or not here I comeee." Grayson sang out.
She waited and waited and when she saw his shadow approaching her she leaped out her hiding place and struck his hand, forcing him to drop the gun. She kicked it under the fridge. She vaulted herself with the help of the kitchen counter and kicked him in the chest.
"Now this is a fair fight." Iris gripped her knife tightly and ran towards him.
She sent a flurry of jabs and hook shots on him. He cowered, trying to block the best he could do. Her knife sliced his stomach and blood poured out in copious amount. But that victory was not very long lived. He punched her on the face, momentarily disorienting her. He took the hand with the knife and smacked it against his kneecap, resulting in her to drop her weapon.
"You bitch!!" He aimed for her in the stomach again but this time, she was prepared. She blocked and hit both her hands on his temples. She then thrust her palm upwards, breaking his nose.
"You should plan for retirement, probably in a jail cell asshole." Iris taunted, enjoying the blood gushing down his face. She knew it was sadistic but this man, tormented her for six consecutive years. He deserved worse.
"Aaarrghhhhh!!!" He tackled her and landed on top of her, knocking the breath out of her. He wrapped his hands around her throat and started choking. "I wanted to extend this playtime with you but you aren't being cooperative-" he squeezed some more. Iris was choking and her vision was getting darker on the periphery.
I won't go like this.
Iris started flapping her legs, trying to get a good hit but, Grayson's grip was tight. "Adios, puta."
"Why don't you adios your ass outta here!!" Aurora screamed as she hit his head with a baseball bat.
If iris wasn't half unconscious, she would have found it hot. Coughing, she tried to get large gulps of air into her screaming lungs.
Aurora was relentless, she continued to beat the fucking shit out of him. She hit him so hard that the fucking bat broke. Iris had her jaw on the floor. She tried to get up but a sharp pain went up her hand and leg. She saw that she has another bullet embedded in the meaty part of her thigh, bleeding profusely. Her wrist was sprained and she had a black eye.
Grayson, even though he looked more like human pulp, kicked Aurora's legs out and she fell. That guy is like a cockroach, Iris groaned internally. They wrestled and stood up. There were punches and curses thrown at each other. He was about to attack Aurora when gunshots rang through the air. The police were at the door and they had shot.
Grayson collapsed and groaned in pain. Aurora stood there, catching her breath. She slowly let out a long breath. She turned towards Adara and smiled. She tried walking to her, but she stumbled.
Falling.
"RORY NO!!" Iris dived forward, ignoring the pain in her leg, to catch the falling woman. She caught her in her arms and when she looked down, she saw a knife sticking out from her stomach. Blood was just pouring out fast and pooling around them, like a red halo.
"Rory you fucking idiot." Iris cried out.  She took out her top and pressed against the wounds but, there were too many stab wounds.
That son of a bitch!!
"Don't worry..... Doesn't hurt." Aurora wheezed out, but she winced.
"Don't fucking lie to me. Why would you fucking do that?!" Iris cried out, feeling completely and utterly helpless. She tried to stop the bleeding by applying pressure, but it didn't help. More and more blood poured out, just like a river.
"We need EMT's right now. We have three casualties and two of them are severely injured." The policewoman spoke into her com.
"You...are free...now." Aurora gasped out. The pain was too much. Too damn much.
"What is even the fucking point of being free when you are not there?!" Iris cried as she pressed her head against Aurora's.
"I...love you...so much.. I am so-" Aurora coughed, and blood coating her lips. "-so greatful to have...met you."
"No Rory!! I want to have a future with you. I want to marry you, adopt children with you. Get fat and old with you. Spend every waking moment beside you. I love you so fucking much, I can't see my future without you in it. Don't you get it?! There is no 'me' without you!!"
Tears rolled down Aurora's eyes. At this point, it was hard to differentiate whose tears they were. "I am so lucky...to die in the arms of a...woman I love...nobody gets...that."
The darkness was slowly calling out to Aurora like a siren. It was so so easy to just slip into the other side. So tempting. There was just a single rope tethering her to the world.
Iris. Her Adara. Her little red.
"Rory NO!! You feel fucking stay alive for me okay?! You are gonna fucking fight this and survive. I just can't loose another person I love to that son of a bitch!!"
"It's okay little red... Go live your life for the two of us....Make me ...prou-"
"RORY FUCKING NO!! HEY LEMME GO HEY- RORY PLEASE BABY STAY ALIVE STAY-"
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I had to take breaks while writing this because it became so hard to type with blurry eyes.
before you guys come at me with pitchforks, there is an EPILOGUE. Be on the lookout, you do NOT want to miss that.
Thank you for giving me a chance to share this story with you guys:)
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An analysis of Kagami’s character in season 3
Warnings: discussion of anxiety and not good parenting
I hated Oni Chan when it first came out, because it seemed like it was really butchering Kagami’s character, but I just rewatched it and... all of her actions seem really justified.   Looking at her thought process has lead me to a way deeper understanding of Kagami’s character
(under the cut because this got fairly long)
So obviously she acts way over the top while she’s akumatized, that’s how akumas work, but the parts where she’s acting of her own free will? Everything she did made perfect sense.
To review, just before being akumatized, Kagami is practicing fencing with her mother.   She gets a message on her phone, and her mother makes her wait until after she’s done practicing to open it.   Kagami looks really disappointed in herself for getting in trouble with her mom.   This is speculation, but that is her mom’s only spoken line in the entire episode, so there’s a chance that the only comment Kagami’s mother made during her entire practice was being upset at Kagami for her phone, and that would force Kagami to fixate on the message throughout practice.   She clearly wants her mother’s approval, and the message was getting in the way of it. Even if it wasn’t the only thing she said, it’s been shown that Kagami takes any criticism from her mother really hard.
Also, this episode comes before Ikari Gozen.   Kagami’s still has basically no friends (except maybe Adrien) and desperately wants to be accepted. There was a reason that she picked up her phone immediately and tried to look at the message; Kagami isn’t the type to just forget her mom’s rule.   So either getting messages on her phone is so rare that it’s something she never really had to deal with before, which would make the message something really special to her, or she just desperately wants friends enough that her eagerness to see the message won out over her strict discipline enough to make her forget the rules.
And then, after all the mental buildup, Kagami finished practicing and opens the message. So, keep in mind, on top of what I already said, that Kagami’s going to be physically exhausted because she just finished a workout, and probably also frustrated because her mother definitely didn’t give her the validation she wanted.   She’s going to be sort of on a knife’s edge anyways.   And, judging by her brief smile as she put her phone away while her mother told her off, the message was probably something that she was looking forward to as a way to ignore all the other pain.
Then comes the part that everyone criticizes. In the course of about 30 seconds, she 1) opens the message to see that it’s a selfie of Lila kissing Adrien on the cheek, 2) sort of growls as she throws her phone across the feild, 3) opens up a notebook, gently touches a photograph of her and Adrien at fencing practice that was carefully tucked between the pages, 4) pulls out the rose Adrien gave her which is now pressed, 5) we see a brief flashback Adrien handing her the rose in Frozer, and then 6) she picks up her sword, 7) we see a few tears run down her face, and then 8) she gets akumatized.   That all seems super sudden and needlessly dramatic at first viewing, but let’s break it down.
No matter what, it’s going to hurt to see the picture of Adrien who’s apparently casually hanging out with some other girl in his room.   Kagami “never hesitates” and I think it’s safe to assume that she’s already asked if she could visit him multiple times and been turned down because he’s “never allowed to have friends over” or something, so this is going to feel like a slap in the face. She doesn’t have enough time to think everything through, but just the brief suggestion that her only friend might have been lying to her to avoid her because he didn’t actually want to see her is an enormous blow to her fragile self-confidence.   Just by merit of having Adrien as her only friend, she’s going to hear a whole lot of “sorry I can’t interact with you ever my dad doesn’t want me to have friends” and by merit of being Kagami she’s got some huge doubts and trust issues, so I can almost guarantee that the fear that he was actually lying to her and just disliked her had probably been bubbling for a while and wouldn’t take much to set it off. Especially in during a post-fencing practice adrenaline high, throwing her phone was a pretty understandable reaction.
Then, there’s the photograph and the rose. So Kagami obviously cares deeply about Adrien if she’s carrying those around with her, but it makes sense.   He gave her the rose like it was something deeply special, he’d probaly be expecting her to keep it safe, and it makes sense that she’d want to preserve it forever.   And keeping photographs with friends is a pretty normal thing.  
Now, we don’t know the exact details of Kagami’s home life, but from experience interacting with my friend’s parents, her mom strikes me as the type of parent who’s obsessed with control and doesn’t believe that their children deserve privacy.   and 90% of the time, that kind of parenting leads to children who try to hide everything they can from their parents and are really good at sneaking away (like, maybe, lying to their mother about participating in a harmless game?   Knowing enough about their car’s security to hack it without a second thought?   Sneaking away from a fancy event the first chance they get?   Only having one number in their entire phone because their mom won’t let them talk to others?   Impulsively lying to their mom about interests?   I could go on forever but yeah Kagami’s a very familiar type of person that I see in a lot of my classmates and it hurts my heart.)
So back to the photograph and the rose being kept on Kagami’s person at all times: it makes total sense.   She doesn’t have any privacy anywhere else.   She’s going to be afraid to talk to her mother about any of her interests anyway for fear of being ridiculed, and even more terrified when that interest is friendship.   Look at Ikari Gozen.   Kagami brings up Adrien in front of her mom for the first time on screen, she says his first and last name like she’s trying to be really formal and distance herself emotionally from him.   Then, her mother immediately insults Adrien and you can physically see Kagami regret what she had said and try to change the conversation by just agreeing with her mother.  She knows she won’t ever change her mother’s mind and she does her own thing regardless of what her mother says, but that doesn’t make her mother’s disapproval not sting.   Of course, in a world where she has to hide any interest she has if she doesn’t want it to be attacked, she’s going to keep the photograph and the rose away from anyone else’s prying eyes.
And then, I’ll admit, at first I made fun of her impulsive reaction: where she saw a selfie of Adrien with another girl and then immediately started petting a photo of herself with him, but this time I thought about all of this from Kagami’s point of view and I had a huge realization.
I headcanon Kagami as having both anxiety and autism, and it’s pretty well supported by the show anyways, which is a conversation for another time.   But specifically, having both means that they can feed each other a lot.   If you’re having an anxiety attack because you think your friends might hate you, it’s a lot harder to break out of it if you also know that you’re terrible at reading social cues, and it’s easy to become overwhelmed by the fear that people are just subtly telling you they hate you and you’re missing their cues.   And that would relate to Kagami’s situation incredibly well: she doesn’t have anyone else to validate her, and Adrien’s nice and all but it’d be really easy, especially in the clutches of an anxiey spiral, to think that maybe his “excuses” are actually his way of tellling her that he doesn’t like her, and that her own lack of social nuance is keeping her from seeing it.  
This is obviously not a good place to be mentally, but as someone who has been there and who has a therapist, the best advice I’ve ever gotten to deal with it has been to step back and look only at concrete things, because my brain will take anything open for interpretation and turn it into an attack on myself.  
And this is exactly what Kagami does.   I’d bet that this has happened several times before, because Kagami had been overwhelmed by so much emotion that she had growled and thrown her phone; I think she was acting on instinct when she pulled the notebook out.   And it makes sense that this would be Kagami’s impulsive response: she was just flooded with an unmanageable wave of fear and doubt that Adrien had been lying to her, and then she turned to the concrete evidence she had that he did care about her.   Remember, this isn’t just about romantic fantasies, this is about the only friend she’s ever made and her own fear that she can’t even trust herself to read interactions; it’s going to be really overwhelming.   So she pulls out the photo of herself with Adrien.   It’s real, it’s proof that Adrien was there with her and acknowledges that she exists and smiles at her like that.   In the midst of a breakdown, that photograph would be a huge means of grounding herself in reality.   And then she pulls out the rose, even more solid evidence that he cares about her.   No matter what else, he did give her this rose, it’s real and it’s here.  
So I can completely see why she that was her immediate reaction: the message triggered a specific panic attack that she’s had multiple times before, she freaked out, and then she turned to calm herself down the best she could.   It may have all turned out fine and deescalated quickly.   Except, the rose is connected to a very specific memory: a very sad Adrien told Kagami that he was in love with someone who didn’t like him back when he gave it to her.
Take a second to think about this all from Kagami’s point of view: she’s ridiculously emotionally unsteady at the moment, she’s thinking about a time when Adrien was left brokenhearted by some girl who he’s still waiting on, and then she gets a photo of a girl being all flirty with Adrien.   She knows Lila Rossi specifically, I don’t know how much she knows about her lies, but she seems to know her enough to know that she’s a manipulative jerk.   So any implication at all that this could be the girl who’s continuing to break Adrien’s heart, and who he’s still loyally waiting on?   Of course Kagami’s going to go absolutely mental.   She cares about Adrien enough to want to protect him from anyone who’d toy with his emotions for their own benefit. 
I don’t know exactly why she picks up her sword, whether she was going to blow off some more steam practicing or what, but it was a time when Kagami had every right to act rashly.    Same thing goes with the fact that she started crying in that moment.  She’s so so overwhelmed.   And then of course Hawkmoth akumatizes her.
I’m almost done, but seriously, if you haven’t seen this episode in a while, please take a look at Kagami and Adrien’s interactions at the very end.   Kagami is so ridiculously happy when Adrien is nice to her, and in context of everything else, it’s almost sad.   But she very clearly does care about Adrien and wants to be able to trust him to make his own decisions.   
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