#knowing that he responded by attacking him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dudeitiskarev · 1 day

Text

Maybe Someday | Ch. 4

A Spencer Reid mini-series

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Chapter summary: Spencer swore he wasn’t going to track you down again, but you still end up right in front of him.

Word count: 6k

Tags/warnings: reader and Spencer get mugged; panic attacks; probably inaccurate case talk.

Author’s note: I decided to merge two chapters id planned together so the whole thing reads better so I hope you don’t mind a longer chapter!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The scent of freshly ground coffee put an instant smile on Spencer’s face; it grew wider when he met a familiar pair of gorgeous eyes behind the counter at one of his favorite coffee shops in town.

“Spencer,” you greeted bright-eyed.

You seemed so different. So at peace. So… beautiful.

“Hey,” he responded. “It’s so good to see you. Wha-What are you doing here?”

The last time he saw you was at the clinic—almost a year ago—so it wasn’t a rude question to ask.

“I work here.” You smoothed down your apron with pride.

“I haven’t seen you here before?” He gave you a lopsided smile through a small laugh.

“That’s because I got hired today.”

“Oh.” He eagerly nodded. “You moved from Vegas?”

“Yeah, last week. I–” You were cut off by a serious voice calling your name from the back office— your manager, most likely. “Sorry, I probably should take your order first.” You shook your head.

He asked for the usual: black coffee with a chocolate sprinkled donut and gave it a small bite right away

“Every time I swear this is my last one but they’re just so tasty,” he said after barely swallowing.

Your fingertips brushed his ever so slightly as you handed him his coffee. A casual touch he didn’t know he’d been craving since you two said goodbye at the clinic. His heart grew warm and lost its nature, increasing the number of beats per minute considerably.

There hasn’t been a day you didn’t cross his mind after you two said goodbye, and he tried multiple times to find you again asking Garcia for help, but it seemed as if you’d vanished into thin air. He wanted to try harder, go to Vegas again and track you down but Morgan’s wise words talked him out of it: you can either find her and suffocate her, or let her go and let her find you—because Morgan was sure you’d do that eventually.

Suffocation was cruel, and now there you were. You’d shown up right in front of him again like a divine being.

“So, I’ll see you around?” You bit the inside of your bottom lip.

“Y-yeah.” Spencer’s brows knitted together while he smiled at you, nodding. “I come here almost every week, so definitely.”

“Great.” You huffed out a nervous laugh.

Spencer looked over his shoulder. There was a line of four people behind him already, so he stepped aside and waved goodbye, leaving the place with a weird feeling—a good one.

He lingered outside the café for a moment—away from your sight—hoping you’d come out and find him.

Don’t suffocate her, he thought as his feet moved again. He continued his walk to the FBI headquarters and just a few steps in, you yelled his name.

He turned around. You were jogging towards him.

“Did something happen?” he asked. “Did I forget something?”

“No,” you panted, stopping three feet away. “I just needed you to know… you saved my life by showing up that night.”

“Oh.” The corner of his mouth tugged and his eyes darted from your fidgeting hands up to your eyes. He didn’t know what else to say. He just stood there, staring at you in case this was the last time he saw you again.

If you slipped away again.

“And I’m very grateful,” you managed to add. “You are a good person, Spencer.”

“Of course, I… It was the right thing to do.”

“But you didn’t have to and… you did. And that… truly saved my life.” You brought one hand to your chest and stared at him for a moment. It was easy to tell your mind was racing. He knew the feeling. He wanted to hold you, but he didn’t act on it. Suffocate her or let her go. “So, yeah, I- I should get back now if I don’t want to get fired on my first day.” You laughed.

Spencer gulped and took a sharp breath, snapping himself out of his mind. “Yeah, go, go.”

“You have the same number right?” you asked as you took steps backwards.

“I— I do, yeah.”

Of course, he did. He’d been waiting for your phone call for ten months and twenty seven days. (His phone got crushed by a car during a pursuit not long ago and he saved the SIM card like it was gold).

“‘Kay. I’ll call you. Or text you. So we can catch up, or hang out. I really need friends here so-”

“Same number.” He gave you a thumbs-up.

You waved him goodbye and gave him a sweet, timid smile before running inside the café.

Minutes later, his phone buzzed.

Unknown number: Hey :) I hope you enjoy your donut.

You didn’t call or text that day and your silence made him uneasy.

The BAU got a case that very same morning, and he checked his phone every chance he got waiting for any sign from you.

“Waiting for a call, pretty boy?” Derek approached him with a teasing grin.

“Y-yeah, Garcia should’ve sent us a lead by now,” Spencer played it cool, writing some more information about the most recent victim on the whiteboard.

“That’s not what you’re waiting for.” Morgan raised one brow. “Come on, you can tell me. Something’s been up since yesterday.”

Spencer put down the marker. He wanted to hear Morgan’s wise words, so he said your name, and it melted right into a smile.

Derek repeated your name as if you were a close friend. “I remember her,” he added.

“I thought I’d lost her again after I left Vegas.”

“I know, you were pretty bummed for a while.”

Spencer licked his lips. “But yesterday I ran into her.”

Morgan smiled with a Told-you-so look.

“There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about her. And when I saw her I felt… something I haven’t felt before.”

“You like her.”

“I mean yeah, of course I do. But it’s more than that. I don’t even know how to put it into words.”

“Sounds like love to me.” Morgan shrugged.

Spencer turned his lips downward. “I don’t think so. I barely even know her.”

“So? Love doesn’t make sense most times.”

“It’s not like that,” Spencer insisted. It wasn’t something ordinary or as simple as cutting it all down to love (not that he thought love was simple). Plus, he wasn’t even sure there was that kind of attraction. “What would Derek Morgan do?” Spencer asked with a bit of humor.

“Now that’s a good question.” Morgan leaned on the table and raised his brows. “I’d call her. Check on her. Let her know I’m thinking about her. After she picks up and tells you every detail about her day, you text her how much you liked talking to her. She’ll do the rest.”

“I’m not trying to… hit on her, Morgan. I want to let her know she’s not alone. That she has someone. Like you said, I don’t want to… suffocate her. I don’t want her to disappear again.”

“You won’t. She already found her way back to you.”

An entire day went by and he couldn’t find the appropriate time to reach out to you, knowing well he could be interrupted any minute.

So he waited until the case was over and the jet touched ground in Quantico—three days later.

He dialed your number as soon as he walked through the airport doors and you picked up after the third ring.

“Spencer.”

Your voice sparked some butterflies. The nice kind of butterflies.

“H-hi, how are you?” He smiled.

“I’ve been good. Sorry, again. I didn’t call or text as I said I would.” He could hear you wincing at yourself. He didn’t mind. He was glad you simply answered. “Are you in town?”

“I am.”

“Are you busy? I’m off work in twenty minutes, maybe we can—”

“Yeah! Yeah, I can pick you up, if that’s okay,” he answered way too fast, but he was eager to see you and he didn’t bother to hide it.

“It’s perfect.” A smile through those words was clear. “I’ll be waiting.”

He wasted no time and took a cab right outside, giving the driver the address of his favorite café. It had just stopped raining and the evening was painted in a wintery shade of orange. The Christmas lights were everywhere now, and the closer he got to you, the prettier everything seemed to be.

The ride ended rather quickly and the driver was already outside the café.

You were waiting inside.

He couldn’t help but think about what Derek said as you two made your way to each other—about whatever he felt for you as love. It could be a type of love, but not necessarily the romantic kind.

“What’s with the bag?” was the first thing you said as you two stopped in front of each other.

“Oh, I just came back from a case.” He looked at his bag. He’d forgotten he had it.

“Why didn’t you go home first?” You sort of laughed, taking another step closer. “We could’ve met a bit later.”

“I really wanted to see you,” he merely said.

“Oh.” You pressed your lips together. “Well, this is for you.” You handed him a paper bag with the café logo on the outside.

“Oh, you’re so nice.”

“It’s just a chocolate sprinkled donut. I assume those are your favorites.”

“They are. I really like glazed donuts, too.”

“I’ll get you one of those next time”

Next time.

“So, how are you adapting to Quantico?” he asked as you started wandering.

“Honestly, it’s going great. The fact that I found a job so soon is awesome. I, uh, I’m just renting a room for now, though. I live with this seventy-year-old lady—Inez—and her puppy. They are way too nice to me. It’s like I’ve known her for so long.”

You seemed nervous, pulling down the sleeves of your denim jacket and he didn’t want to invade you with all the questions he’d had for the past ten months.

So he asked the one that he wanted to know the most, “May I ask why Quantico?”

“I, uh, it’s gonna sound like a confession.” You glanced up at him for half a second. “But I’d never felt so safe and so taken care of until you found me. After the clinic, I looked you up. Your card said you worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit?” you searched his eyes again for approval to which he nodded. “And I guess I needed to go somewhere I felt safe. Even if I didn’t see you again, I knew you’d be around.”

His heart dropped. So you did come to find him. “Why didn’t you just call?” He had to ask.

You exhaled a sharp breath. “Because I’m stubborn, or so I’ve been told. But I really wanted to see you again so I decided to move somewhere close to you and hope for this.” You gestured between you and him. “Bump into each other.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause before you said, laughing, “I now realize I must sound like a creep.”

You leaned on him while you laughed, almost hiding your face on his arm. A simple but intimate gesture. He couldn’t help but stiffen and sigh deeply all at once.

“It’s not creepy at all.”

If anything, he was flattered.

The walk turned silent for a few steps until he decided to stop for some hot chocolate. It was getting colder with every minute and he noticed your clothes weren’t made for this kind of weather.

“I have a spare sweater you can wear under your jacket,” he commented, handing you the hot drink.

“Your sweater and this hot chocolate would make it the perfect night.”

You accepted his kindness and held his cup as he searched inside his bag. He handed you the one he liked the most, and it suited you even better that it did on him.

“Thank you. Is it cashmere?” You asked, caressing the fabric with delicate strokes.

“Yeah, I have a scarf too if you get colder.”

A park was a block away and soon, you were sitting at a bench in front of an ice skating rink—the one Garcia had invited him to last weekend but he declined because he didn’t want to look like a newborn deer learning how to walk. He would do it now if you asked him, though.

“I wish I’d stayed with you longer,” Spencer commented, giving half of his donut a small bite. He’d given you the other half.

“When?” You looked up at him.

“At the clinic.”

“I wouldn’t have let you.” You shook your head. “I would’ve disappeared somehow. But I’m starting over now. I’m leaving that ungrateful bitch in the past.”

There were a few families and couples at the rink, some of them struggling to stay standing and others that acted like professionals. Spencer thought it was a nice calming sight for you. Your eyes were shining with the Christmas lights.

“Is Quantico in the picture of your fresh start, then?” Spencer asked.

“For a while, yeah.” You held your hot chocolate with both hands and casually scooted closer to him, searching for some warmth. “I like my job so far. I’ve never been smart enough to study anything but college is not totally out of the question, I guess.”

“If I remember correctly you won a short story contest at school.” He raised his brows. The memory came to him as he said it. “You could try some creative writing.”

It was a vague memory, but he was sure about it. It was a story about an ant named Lori who wanted to be an astronaut.

“I– oh wow.” You looked at him with a funny frown. “You just unlocked a memory. How the hell do you remember that?” You laughed, a blissful sound between amusement and confusion.

“I have an eidetic memory,” he said, as he usually did.

“I’m not sure I know what eidetic means.” You laughed embarrassed, hiding your face against his arm again. And he sighed deeply, again. “Like photographic memory?”

“Sort of, yeah. I just have a really good memory.” He chuckled along.

“Is that a blessing or a curse?” You looked up at him.

“It can be both,” he admitted.

The moon hung low and thin over the snow-covered hills and the first few people at the ice rink were leaving. The temperature dropped a few more degrees, which meant it was time to go, too.

“Is it okay if I walk you home?” He asked as you both stood up.

“I’d love that.” Your face lit up. “I take the subway on the next block.” You gestured to a dark alley.

Normally, Spencer would’ve avoided it, but you seemed confident to keep walking so he followed your lead.

And he wished he’d suggested taking another path.

A third person’s footsteps joined you from behind and before he could turn around to glance at them, they were yanking your purse.

“Spencer!” You yelled.

“Hey! Don’t touch her!” Spencer’s voice got higher in the attempt to fight the guy.

A failed armlock got him punched in the brow, but at least he managed to get your purse back.

“Son of a—!” Spencer yelled.

The guy spat a low fuck you, little bitch and ran without trying anything else.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You hurried to check on Spencer.

“I’m fine.” He touched his brow and winced. It was getting swollen already. “Did you see him?! That was a child!”

Your response wasn’t what he expected. You laughed. Small at first but it soon turned into laughter.

All he could do was laugh along.

“I’m sorry I promise I’m not mocking you. I’m just a nervous laugher,” you said between more laughs. “And that made me really nervous.”

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He knew it wasn’t a positive kind of laugh, but seeing you laugh like this made the situation not so bad. And like you said, you weren’t mocking him.

“My house is only three stations away.” You ceased to laugh a bit. “Let me clean that.”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal,” he underplayed it. It could’ve ended up so poorly if the kid had had a gun or knife.

“C’mon.” You hooked your arm around his elbow and kept on walking.

You made it to the station at a fast pace and you held onto him the entire time. It didn’t bother him. At all.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You let go of his arm and stood in front of him while you waited for the train. “That came out of nowhere.”

You lifted your hand and gently touched his swollen brow with your fingertips.

“It hurts, but sadly I’ve received worse, so it’s not that bad.”

The roaring of the train coming made you both stand behind the yellow line, and your arm seemed to have found its place in Spencer’s already as you looped them together again.

You both squeezed yourself inside the train car that stopped right in front of you and held onto the same pole, face to face.

“I feel a lot of stares,” Spencer muttered, subtly looking around.

“Well, yeah, you have a black eye now,” You said. You riffled through your purse and got out a mp4 with wired earplugs. “Here.” You handed him one and pressed play.

He recognized the first melodies. A song he’d heard before on the radio most likely. You tapped the first beats on the pole with your fingers, smiling up at him.

Then, the lyrics started and everything it said turned into a memory.

My name is Luka

I live on the second floor

I live upstairs from you

Yes I think you’ve seen me before

(A loud thud came from the floor above Spencer’s room. The neighbors again. They always yelled and interrupted his reading.

He paid special attention and the girl he didn’t know—but still cared about—screamed as if she were in pain.

Spencer put his book down and dragged his little steps to the kitchen where his mom was drinking her afternoon coffee.

“Mom?”

She turned her head to him. “What is it, Spencer?”

“I think the girl is in trouble again.”

Diana clicked her tongue with concern and looked up at the ceiling. The noise wasn’t too loud in the kitchen. “There’s not much we can do. Remember the last time we called the police?” Spencer nodded. It had worsened everything. “Come here.” She signaled for him to sit on her lap. “Help me with this crossword.”)

The doors of the train opened, bringing a new wave of people inside that snapped Spencer back to the present. You scooted closer to him to avoid people pushing you and nestled on his side. He glanced at you and the soft features of the little girl who lived upstairs were still there.

“When we were neighbors,” he began. “You didn’t live five houses away. We lived in the same building.”

You looked up at him and your pupils dilated as if you were having the same memories.

“Oh, yeah,” you managed to say. “For a while, I think? Then we moved again to another house.” Which must’ve been the one five houses away. “I remember your mom. You used to hide behind her legs all the time.” You then smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You didn’t have anyone to hide behind.

You looked away and kept tapping your fingers on the pole as the music kept going during the three stations left.

“We’re here.” You put your MP4 away before stepping out of the subway and looped your arm with his as you’d already gotten used to. “I live just around the corner.”

It was a modest home with a nice little dog by the door welcoming you.

“Hi, Murph!” you greeted him as he jumped all over you. “I missed you so much!” You picked Murph up and let him lick your face.

About 600 bacteria got transferred to your face right then, but it wasn’t much different from a human kiss. No disease if Murph had all of its vaccines up to date. Spencer could assume the dog had them all since its owner cared about him enough to put a little bow tie on his neck.

“Hey, angel.” A tiny old lady with short burgundy hair approached them. “Oh, who’s this handsome boy and what happened to him?” Her face drooped with concern.

“Inez, this is my friend Spencer. He got punched trying to defend me.” You pressed your lips together.

“Oh, no. It’s not even that late.” Inez glanced at the wall clock. “Let me bring you some peroxide and we’ll get you all cleaned up.”

“You’re so nice, thanks.” Spencer smiled sideways.

You took a sudden violent breath and brought your hand up to your chest. “I’m gonna go with Inez, uh—” You cleared your voice and swallowed thickly. “So you can clean… that.”

You didn’t move, though. You stood there, hand on your chest as you took another sharp deep breath this time with your eyes closed.

“You okay?” Spencer frowned.

“Y-yeah, I’m just—God, please not now.” You muttered, opening your eyes and looked up, talking to the god you’d mentioned.

Murph suddenly started whining and jumping and asking for pets from you.

“Hey.” Spencer took you by your arm gently and guided you to sit on the couch. Your legs shook as you sat down. “What do you feel?” He crouched in front of you.

“Like my heart is about to burst.” You reached for his hand. It was sweating cold. “Like I’m gonna die.”

You were having a panic attack.

He was quick to think and looked around and searched for anything that could help. “Do you have a lemon?”

“What’s happening!” Inez rushed back to the living room with every supply possible to clean up Spencer’s brow.

“Inez, do you have any lemon?”

“In the kitchen.” She gestured with her thumb. “Why?”

“Can you stay with her while I go to get one?”

“I’ll get it!” She rushed her short steps to the kitchen and was back with at least five.

Spencer grabbed your hand and made you wrap your palm around a lemon. “Bite it.”

“What?” Your voice barely came out. There were pools in your eyes already.

“Trust me. It’ll help, I promise. Just give it a big bite. Peel and everything.”

You doubted for a second but did it anyway. A big bite that made Spencer’s mouth water.

“That’s it, keep going. Chew it. Taste it until you start feeling better. It’ll shock your senses and pull them out of the panic.”

You struggled to chew and swallow the first bite but did it anyway and went for another bite right away.

“That’s it. Eat the whole thing if you need to,” Spencer kept talking, stroking your knee with his thumb.

You ate the second bite and opened your eyes. They were watery and your lips were flushed but there was a smile taking over them.

You let out a shaky breath. “It’s working.”

“It’s a grounding technique.” He smiled too. It never failed. “The bitterness distracts your brain from having the panic attack and focuses on the sensations happening in your mouth.”

“I’m gonna keep that basket stocked with lemons for you darling,” Inez said. “That worked like magic.”

“Or sour candies,” he added. “Anything sour will work.”

Inez walked to you and stroked your hair. “You just brought an angel to our home, sweetheart.”

You chuckled between another bite. “Yeah.”

“I’m gonna make her some tea.” Inez kissed the top of your head. “We usually let it pass on its own,” she told Spencer. “Poor thing, they happen at least once a month.”

“It’s been more often lately,” you added. “I used to have them when I was a teenager after my brother died. Then they went away with time but they came back a few months ago.”

There were many reasons he could tell you why they happened, but he figured you only needed his company this time.

“Why don’t you lie down?” He suggested as he sat at one end of the couch hoping you’d put your feet over his lap. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I think.” You nodded. “But… it’s still there. The feeling.” You put your palm over your chest. “The ghost of it. I feel like it might come back any minute.”

“I know.” He stroked your leg. He did know first hand what it felt like. “There are many techniques that can help you control it, even help you to never have them again.”

You looked at him weary-eyed. “Would you stay with me? In case it happens again?”

“Stay the night?” He gulped.

You nodded.

“Y-Yeah.” He shifted in his seat. “Is Inez okay with it?”

“She loves having people over.” You smiled tiredly.

“I should go ask her anyway.” He stood from the couch and gently put your feet down. He followed Inez’s voice to the kitchen and found her having a full conversation with Murph. “Is he a goldendoodle?” He asked.

“He is. The most handsome goldendoodle there is. Aren’t you, sweet boy?” She gave Murph a treat. “You’re staying, right?” She then asked Spencer. “It’s already so late and after what happened.” She crossed herself looking up at the ceiling.

He nodded as he responded, “If that’s okay with you?”

“Of course. There are new toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet. A bunch of colors, pick your favorite. There’s a spare room, too but it’s not ready for rent yet. Have to paint the walls and change the lightbulb. My husband—may he rest in peace—used to do all of that. You can sleep with her in her room, there’s no trouble as long as she agrees.”

Inez had kind eyes but her smile wouldn’t touch them. A lot like you a year ago. She’d lost her husband—who knows how long ago—but it still was reflected in her.

“I don’t mind sleeping on the couch,” he responded.

“Let’s see what she says.”

He thanked Inez and went back to check on you. You were curled up on the couch.

“Hey,” he softly said as he crouched next to you.

“Mmm?” You lifted your chin to look at him and blinked your eyes open.

“This will be my bed for the night. You go to bed. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

You sat upright with slow movements. “I feel like it's still in me.” Your breath subtly shook as you inhaled deeply. “Would you… sleep next to me?”

He cleared his throat and avoided your eyes for a second. “Y-yeah, that way I can teach you some of the exercises.” His voice came out thin.

“Right,” you chuckled.

You made your way to your bedroom; Spencer right behind you like a puppy. It was small but enough to fit everything you needed: a twin-sized bed, a nightstand with a book he’d most likely already read, a dresser with a mirror over it, and a large window.

“I sleep with the window slightly open but we can close it.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” He shook his head. “I don’t mind.” As long as you were comfortable, he didn’t mind anything at all.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and came back with your pajamas.

“I don’t bite, Spencer.” You crawled to the wall side of the bed. He was still sitting at the edge.

“Sorry.” He waited for you to be all cozy to lay on top of the covers, grabbing the blanket by the feet and laying it over him up to his chest.

“Don’t you have pajamas in your bag?” You asked.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, then realized. He didn’t have his bag.

“He… stole my bag.” He looked at you confused.

“Oh, shit.” You laughed, covering your mouth. “You were so worried about mine. I’m so sorry.”

“Or maybe I dropped it,” he added. Good thing the most valuable things were in his pockets. He only lost a pair of pants, dirty socks, and a button up he could buy again. “I don’t know.”

You laughed again, but it wasn’t your nervous laugh. It was a soft, casual laugh. He turned his head to look at you. Most beautiful weary eyes.

“You can wear something of mine. I have sweatpants and a shirt that may fit you.”

Spencer shook his head. “I’m okay. Close your eyes now,” he muttered. “You can sleep. I’ll stay here.”

You made yourself comfortable and lay on your side, resting your head next to his shoulder. “I don’t have that feeling anymore, with you here next to me.”

He didn’t say anything but he smiled at you. You had a nice face to stare at, and he could fall asleep counting each of your lashes.

“You mentioned something about some letters from my brother, when you found me.” You looked up at him. “Where were they? I always thought he didn’t leave anything.”

Your question caught him off guard.

“They were in Gary’s case files. They… they found them with his remains. Inside his wallet.”

He still wondered what your relationship with Gary was like because you didn’t wonder about why he had something of your brother’s.

“Am I ever gonna get to read them?” you asked, voice just above a whisper.

He wished he had an answer for it. He had completely forgotten about them. They probably were still under investigation or they were forgotten under a pile of documents since they didn’t contribute to the case much.

“Some cases take a lot of time,” he explained.

“So even if he’s dead, Gary it’s still under investigation?”

“It’s complicated.” Spencer shook his head.

“It’s been a long time.” You looked up at him.

“I… I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes again. He felt the need to kiss the top of your head and stroke your hair. But he didn’t.

Instead, he fell asleep, too.

The temperature dropped during the night and naturally, you both searched for warmth on each other.

When the next morning came, Spencer woke up by an odd feeling— someone in his arms. He found himself pulling you closer, still over the bed covers. Your face was buried in his neck and one of your arms was over his waist.

His heart started racing and he hoped the loud thuds of the pulse of his neck wouldn’t wake you. He carefully tried to peel himself off you but you hummed. A gentle sound between discomfort and sleepiness.

He froze until your breathing steadied again, then he tried moving once more. Gently, he lifted your arm that was hugging him and slid on his side to the edge of the bed. He almost knocked everything off your nightstand with his elbow, and you hummed in annoyance again, frowning in the sweetest way.

You were a cute sleeper.

He gained back his balance and stood there, staring at you and wondering what was the reason behind a sudden smile.

It was contagious, and he smiled too. He would’ve stayed there, but Hotch had already sent him a text that he needed to be at the BAU ASAP.

Spencer took one last glance at you to make sure he didn’t wake you, and silently made his way out of your room to the living room.

There was Inez having breakfast with Murph sitting by her feet.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” She greeted. “Would you like some coffee?”

He was running so late but how could he deny the coffee of a sweet grandma?

“I’d love to.” He accepted and sat next to her.

She had set the table for three and poured Spencer some coffee in a clear mug.

“Thank you for staying.” She placed everything that was on the table in front of him—some toast, homemade jam, butter. “I still don’t know how to help her through those panic attacks but now we will be stocked with lemons for her. Poor thing.”

“Of course.” Spencer grabbed a knife and the butter. “She’s my friend. I care about her a lot.”

“You two knew each other already?” She tilted her head.

“Yeah, sort of.” He merely said, giving his toast a small bite. “When we were kids. We were neighbors. We barely remember each other, but thanks to my job I tracked her down.”

“Ah, how nice it must've been to be reunited.” Her eyes almost disappeared with her smile. “Now I see why out of every state in America, she chose Quantico.”

Spencer frowned.

“Are you two talking behind my back?” Your voice came out of nowhere.

He shifted in his chair to look at you. You were leaning on the wall with your arms folded over your chest. You lit up the place just like that; so cozy. He could tell you didn’t want to get out of bed yet.

“I have your waffles ready, darling,” Inez said while standing.

“Oh, don’t worry.” You gestured for her to sit back. “I’ll get them. ”

Something clicked inside his chest right then; seeing you just being… you, at home, excited for waffles.

And with a deep sigh, he sealed it in.

“Sorry I’m late.” Spencer stormed into the conference room.

“Oh, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, huh?” Derek teased him right away, but Hotch didn’t give him the chance to keep teasing.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Hotch said, giving Spencer a we'll-talk-about-this-later stare.

It wasn’t a new case, luckily. Hotch had to debrief about the new protocols and codes that had to be applied in the field as well as inside the building.

While everyone took notes, Spencer doodled on his notebook.

“She’s pretty.” Penelope—on his right—whispered, gesturing at his notebook with her eyes.

He’d drawn you. A wonky version of you.

“Who is she?” She then asked. “I think I’ve seen her before.”

“Yeah, she’s my friend from Vegas.”

“Oh, neighbor girl.” She smiled sideways as if something made everything make sense: the same clothes as yesterday, the black eye, being late.

“Guys.” Hotch got their attention. “Twenty more minutes. Then we have a break.”

Sorry, both of them whispered.

Spencer brought his attention back to Hotch, but not entirely. His mind kept wandering and reliving the night before. He remembered when you asked him about your brother’s letters. Out of everyone, JJ was the one with the answers and he asked her about them as soon as Hotch gave the first break.

“I haven’t heard anything back,” she said. Her eyes darted between his evident bruised brow and his eyes.

He was surprised no one had asked about it yet.

“Can we do something about it?” Spencer’s lips settled into a bleak line.

“We can try. But you know how hard it is when it comes to things left by the victims.”

Spencer nodded. He wished he could go over everyone and hurry the process, for your serenity. Whatever triggered your panic attack last night, he was sure the uncertainty of your brother had something to do with it.

“Did you join a fight club or somethin’?” Derek came from behind and nudged Spencer’s arm, offering him a cup of coffee.

“Oh.” Spencer’s hand instinctively went to his brow. It still hurt. “I got mugged last night.”

“Damn.” Derek’s tone changed to a serious one immediately.

Spencer mentioned how he tried to defend you and lost his bag in the process—hence the same clothes as yesterday. “She had a panic attack,” he continued. “And asked me to stay with her. So I stayed with her. All night waiting for her body to stop trembling.”

“Was she alright when you left?” Derek sat back down on his seat.

“She was fine.” Spencer mirrored him. “I taught her some grounding techniques and woke up much better.”

“Then what is it? Something else is bugging you.”

Spencer gulped. The click his heart made when he was about to was bugging him.

“Remember what you said the other day about it being love?” he said.

Derek raised his brows at the realization.

“You may be right.”

I hope you enjoyed this one!!!!!

Next chapter

#Spencer Reid #spencer reid x fanfiction #Spencer Reid x female reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction

72 notes · View notes

bluebells-and-dragonflies · 1 day

Note

Can I request Astarion reacting to GN Reader genuinely asking him why does he flirt with THEM of all people? Like they know everyone is attractive except them but the fact he flirts with them more than he does with everyone combined is a mystery to them!

Anon, I need to be so honest with you: Astarion is not going to stand for this, lol. Especially if you bring this up further into the relationship.

If you straight up try to tell him that you don't understand why he's flirting because you're not attractive enough for that, he's probably not going to take you seriously at first. It seems so outside the realm of possibility that you would actually think that- don't you know what you look like?- that he doesn't even consider you might be genuine. He'll probably respond with some sort of flippant joke (Oh, I tried everyone else in camp first. You were the only one who took the bait, or Flirting with you? You think that's what I've been doing? Darling, this is a seduction) and he'll only realize you're serious when you don't laugh.

He's not the sort of man who's naturally good at comfort, but he offers you his best form of it: aggressively attacking your false belief like he could physically tear it to shreds, using his flippancy as a weapon. He asks if you've gone to some other vampire behind his back and gotten yourself turned- how else could you be so unaware of your appearance? If you don't find yourself attractive, you have a serious fault in your taste. Either that, or you've developed incredible blinders to your own magnetism, and that exists regardless of how you look. (If you try to interrupt him here, he'll put a hand over your mouth (gently, so that you could pull away if you wanted) and keep talking as if you'd never interrupted). What, you haven't noticed? It's impossible to notice anyone else in any room you're in. Every expression on your face and every movement you make scream I am somebody you want to know. It's impossible not to want to be closer to you. To want you.

Now, he won't hear another insult aimed at the only person he's ever cared about. He would gut anyone who ever dared to talk about you the way you just talked about yourself.

You're beautiful, darling. Please don't forget it.

#.astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gender neutral reader #astarion haaaaates when you talk shit about yourself. that's his favorite person #he WILL get a little snippy with it but it's just because he hurts when you hurt #and he doesn't know how to handle that feeling yet. or how to comfort people except with his honest thoughts lol

81 notes · View notes

cassafra5 · 2 days

Note

besides the anti-feral drug (which is theorized to be something else), what are your thoughts on how the Fallout tv show Buffed the Ghouls?

Sorry for the delay! I wanted to take a bit of time on this. I’m not sure if the ghouls are necessarily buffed. They seem to be for the most part the same, albeit there’s the dependence on the drug and there seems to be more of a chance of ghouls to decay/breakdown overtime if they can’t get proper care. For example, Roger has a full chunk of his skull showing. Without the drug, overtime, it seems like they start to lose themselves like Roger and Martha who needed to remind themselves of who they are. Pretty heartbreaking not gonna lie :/.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR FO4/FALLOUT ON PRIME

Roger brings up that Cooper has outlasted everyone to which Cooper responds that he’s just always been good with money so there was, at one point, a community and overtime they became feral. Cooper does look healthier than the other ghouls who seem much paler and have their skin pulling away. When we finally see Lucy’s mother in the final episode, she is mostly skeletal and missing an arm and has probably been that way for years. I know a decent bit of damage would have come from the attack on Shady Sands but it’s also been many years as well and there could have been ongoing deterioration despite Moldaver’s best efforts. She could have gone feral soon after and may have been unable to be further treated.

How the ghouls turn feral reminds me of Rachel and Oswald the Outrageous from the Nukaworld DLC. After the Great War, they were turned into ghouls by the radiation and, overtime, some of their friends began to deteriorate and become feral. They describe it as a type of “affliction” and Rachel heads out to find a cure but ultimately concludes that ghouls are doomed to go feral eventually and takes her own life when she, too, begins to deteriorate. Maybe the cure she was looking for would have been something like the drug in the show.

youtube

I don’t think we’ve seen as of yet whether radiation cures or promotes healing in ghouls in the show. In regards to Thaddeus, I’m not sure if he is necessarily becoming a ghoul since the serum the snake-oil salesman gave him immediately healed his foot without the use of radiation and he also healed after being shot with an arrow. The salesman mentions that he has “serums that will make you grow an entire new foot.” Once Thaddeus takes the drug, the salesman is in a hurry to leave and even remarks that radiation “isn’t a thing to worry about” anymore. Some people have been saying it could possibly be the healing factor serum and that he now has that mutation, which is a possibility but I’m a bit skeptical of the salesman acting the way he did if that was the case. I actually like Thaddeus so I am a bit worried though with what clues we do have, it may be more likely that he could be turning into a super mutant of some type. FEV can have some regenerative properties depending on the strain and it could be that it’s taking a while to work…but we’re going to have to see what ends up happening in Season 2. I hope he’s okay though :(

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout on prime #ask #ghouls #the ghoul

62 notes · View notes

livingwritinglegend · 2 days

Text

Test drive/Adore

(not my gif)

Oliver Otto x Male Reader

Desc: Oliver gets a new car and the reader decided Oliver should take it for a test drive. Well what happens on the test drive? (Based on Test drive/Adore- Ariana Grande) MDNI

Type: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Smut, Top!Oliver, bttm!reader, p in a, creampie, (breeding kink if u squint), stomach bulge, overstimulation, (public exhibition if u squint) unprotected(be safe)

Enjoyyyy

Your boyfriend, Oliver, had just gotten a new car since the one his parents gave him ended up breaking down. With a lot of convincing from Cooper, you, and Oliver they finally gave in. So your boyfriend finally had his car and was super excited.

“Even though a Honda Civic wasn’t ideal, it’s still pretty nice.” Oliver said smiling. You giggled. “Well let’s give it a test drive” you say. He nods opening your door. You slid into the cars passenger seat and he went and go into the drivers seat. He looked in the rear view mirror before starting the car. He backed up a little out of the parking space before driving from his family’s house. Into the drive you noticed he wasn’t really talking.

You took this as an opportunity to get him started. You touch his thigh gently and caress it whispering in his ear, “What’s been on your mind.” You say seductively. You can spot a not so obvious tent in his pants. You can only see it because you’re close enough to.

He gulped trying to keep his eyes on the road. He didn’t even respond. So you decided to snake your hand right above his crotch. You rubbed him through his pants making the tent in his pants grow. He let out a moan as you rubbed him and kissed his neck. He tried focusing on the road put the pleasure was getting to him. He quickly pulled into an empty parking o behind a shut down mall.

He put the car park. He then kissed you with passion ass he grabbed you hips guiding you from the passenger seat onto his lap. He kissed you keeping a hand on your ass and hip. You slowly grind on him and he let out an audible whimper. He kissed your neck making you moan. You laid a hand on his chest as he attacked your neck

“fuck you gonna make me-“ Oliver moaned trying to let you know he was gonna cum. But he couldn’t even warn you before he came. He moaned very loud holding your hips down on him. You couldn’t even move if you wanted to. He laid his lips on yours moaning into your mouth as you gripped and massaged his brown hair.

He was a virgin, to your knowledge and so were you. So you ended up taking a lot of this head on with no guide besides maybe a couple porn videos. But Oliver somewhat knew what to do thanks to his mother, Kate who had a very uncomfortable conversation with Oliver about sex between you and him.

You slowly unbuttoned his shirt revealing a muscular chest. He pulled your shirt over your head and soon your guys clothes were discarded. The radio silently clicked on starting to play music which even amped up the atmosphere. He kissed you softly as you massaged his hair. He Positioned his tip at the entrance of your anus. “Tell me what you need me to do” he whispered “I need you in me” you said.

He quickly fulfilled your request spitting in his hand and jerking himself off a little before sliding into you. “Ngh, fuck” You whimper as he slid into you inch by inch. He let out strings of curses as you clenched around him. He slid you the rest of the way down on his cock and you hid your head into his neck letting out cries and tears and te mix of pain and pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight” Oliver said as you were completely on his cock. “Let me know when you’re ready” Oliver said rubbing your back. You nodded and he held your hips and you moved up and down on cock. Got stomach started to bulge as Oliver looked down seeing his cock print. He got more turned on by the sight.

He bounced you up and down on his cock a little faster than you were going and you became a mess. “You take my cock so well, I’m gonna fill you up so good baby” he said as he fucked you into stupidity. All you could do was mumble, whimper, and moan. He kissed you softly moaning into your mouth as he jerked you off.

The mix of him slamming into your prostate and him jerking you off made you go feral. You scratched his back and he arched as you did. He fucked you deep into the steering wheel making the car beep. “Look at you, you take my cock so well baby. Want me to cum in you? Fill you up so deep with your seed hm?” He asked fucking you onto him and fucking into you.

You whimpered as you came over his chest. But that didn’t make him stop. It gave him more ammunition and drive to continue. You squirm on his cock as tears fall from you face. “Don’t cry baby, you’re doing good for me, just give me one more okay, can you do that for me?” Oliver add you wiping your tears and cupping your checks asking you sincerely.

You nodded and he smiled. He sped up nearly rearranging your insides as he jerked you a little faster. You clenched hard as hell and squirmed. “T-too , much” you mumbled not even able form a proper sentence. “I know, just one more baby” Oliver said getting close himself. You kiss him softly as you near your climax. You bite down on his shoulder as you release on him and yourself for the second time and you whimpered in such a euphoric state. “Good boy….” Oliver said getting close. You weren’t even mentally there any more. He attacked your neck as he started to cum.

“Mmm fuck, gonna put my kids in you just like that” Oliver moaned as he came deep inside you. Both of your eyes rolled to the back of your heads. He whimpered softly as you rode him through his climax. You laid your head on his chest as he held you in his arms. You were going in and out still affected by the pain and the pleasure of your first time. Oliver on the other hand was smiling as he held you in his arms still inside you.

“Don’t pull out-“ you murmured. “I won’t baby” Oliver said holding you. “I love you baby” Oliver said. He made you look him in the eye as he said it. “I love you too” you said. He kissed you passionately then you laid back in his arms and put your head back in his neck. The rest of that hour was right there. Hopefully nobody saw…

#male reader #american housewife #american housewife x male reader #american housewife x reader #oliver otto #oliver otto x male reader #smut #oliver otto x reader #Oliver Otto smut #bottom reader #Spotify

40 notes · View notes

varpusvaras · 1 day

Text

Bail got the news in the middle of his breakfast.

Onaconda was the one to call him, looking so uncharacteristically concerned that Bail knew immadiately that something big had happened.

"Castle Serenno was attacked a few hours ago", Onaconda told him. "They have reported Count Dooku dead."

Bail wasn't sure what to think. He didn't agree with many of the Count's political views, but he was well aware that the man was still widely respected even in circles that disagreed with him even more than Bail did. An assassination would've been bad enough, in the times of rising tensions they were living now, but for someone to go as far as to destroy the entire Castle?

It seemed like someone truly wanted the Count gone, and wanted to be sure.

"Is there any information on the attackers?" Bail asked, already opening up the news as he spoke.

"No", Onaconda said. "No one has claimed the attack. There were sightings of some ships, of course, since the attack was so large, but they have not been linked to any Republic world so far."

So it seemed. Bail glanced at the news he had found.

"This is alarming", he said.

"You don't need to tell me that", Onaconda said. "If the culprit is not found soon, there will be even worse times ahead when people start to blame each other. I'm not sure if the current situation can handle something like that."

Bail sighed. This was not how he had wanted to start his day.

---

"The Jedi want to investigate the attack, I heard", Mon said. "The Count was a former Master, after all. They probably feel like this was personal, in some way, even if the Count was not part of the Order at the time of the attack."

"I heard as well", Bail nodded. "Though the Chancellor hasn't brought it up. He is still looking into other options for investigation."

Mon frowned slightly.

"Odd", she said. It was, Bail had to agree. Usually, Chancellor Palpatine was more than ready to trust the Jedi in situations like this, but now, he had not even had a meeting with them regarding the matter.

It was odd, certainly.

Mon glanced around a bit, and leaned closer.

"Has the Chancellor...seemed somewhat strange otherwise, as well, after the attack?" She asked, quietly.

"He is probably just nervous", Bail said. "The Count was a central figure in the anti-Republic movement, after all. It is rather easy to see this as an aggression from the Senate's side. The Chancellor wants to avoid any armed conflicts."

Mon hummed.

"You're probably right", she said. "Something about all of this just...strikes me as weird."

"I know", Bail said. "I'll try and propose a meeting with the Jedi for the Chancellor. We need to solve this issue quickly, before more arise from it."

He did agree with her. Something about all of this was indeed weird. Bail just didn't know what it was, exactly.

---

"The Chancellor declined the meeting?" Breha frowned. "Does he think that the Jedi wouldn't be impartial enough?"

"Most likely, though I don't think that there is a group that is impartial enough for both sides", Bail said. "The only solution would be to get into an agreement with worlds that have taken part in the movement. The Chancellor has just been rather avoidant with it all."

Breha was quiet for a moment.

"That is quite...worrisome", she said. "Do you think that he could know something more?"

It was a thought Bail had not wanted to voice himself.

"I'm not sure", he said. "But it's a...possibility. Everything is, at this point. I am just worried about the fact that nothing is happening. This could all get out of hand, quickly."

"There has not been any signs of true aggression before this", Breha pointed out. "It would take time for them to respond. We still have time. The Chancellor might be pressured into taking action, and doesn't want to rush it."

"Of course he doesn't", Bail said. "We still need to do something, before anything worse happens."

---

Bail hadn't expected at all what happened next.

He was more than sure that nobody had.

The information came flooding in everywhere all at once. Palpatine was long gone by the time people were sent to apprehend him on his apartment on Coruscant.

By the time they had tracked his ship outside the Core, there was nothing left than depris.

The records recovered from Palpatine's ship showed more of the same ships that had taken out Count Dooku.

This time, though, they all knew who the ships belonged to.

"A clone army?" Padmé shook her head. "I can't believe it."

Neither could Bail. A whole army, designed to go against the armies of the Separatist movement, and in the end, betray everyone without having any say in it, and turn the Republic into a tyrannical Empire?

It sounded impossible.

But it wasn't.

Bail had not felt this lost in a while.

---

The Jedi sent a message to the Senate after arriving to Kamino.

The City where the cloning facilities had been were completely empty. Everything had been taken. There was not a single clone left.

The Kaminoans, who had been there, had said that the clones had risen up, taken the city for themselves, and then fled, and no one had any idea where they were.

"I cannot fault them", Breha said. "If they found out that they were made for an awful purpose like this...I cannot fault them for doing what they did."

Neither could Bail.

"I just wished we knew where they were", he said. "Though I can understand if they want to stay hidden. I hope that they will find whatever they need to survive."

"So do I", Breha said. "If they ever want to come back...then Alderaan is open to them. They didn't ask for any of this, so we must do whatever we can to repay them."

Bail couldn't agree more.

---

The clones didn't come back. Sometimes there was a sighting of them, but they managed to disappear before anyone could get too close.

It seemed like they were getting by, at least.

Jango Fett had disappeared as well. Many were getting rather frustrated over the fact that they were not able to apprehend him and bring him in for questioning.

Bail couldn't fault the man for not coming forward either. From what he had understood from the infromation, Fett was a father now. That was most likely his main concern right now.

---

Bail frowned at his datapad. It had been a long day already, and the vote was getting near, and he needed to get his speech ready, and it just didn't sound like he wanted to-

A hand pressed gently at the side of his face.

"What is it?" A voice asked him. It was a man's voice. Soft, with an accent different from Bail's, one that he thought endearing.

The hand moved up, and fingers ran softly over Bail's brow, smoothing the skin. Mostly because Bail couldn't frown anymore, not when-

Bail woke up in the early hours of the morning in his apartment on Coruscant.

He stared at the wall, still reeling from how real the dream had felt and trying to figure out what had woken him, when-

-when everything came back to him in one single supernova, so fast that his mind couldn't keep up with everything. The war, the Empire, Leia in his arms, the Rebellion, the flash before everything disappeared, Breha growing older before his eyes, the voice from his dream-

No. Not from his dream. From his memory. Golden eyes, steady hands, cold body in Bail's arms-

Bail stumbled out of his bed and threw up. He then sat on the floor of his bedroom, his eyes closed, reliving his whole life over and over again, until finally, everything seemed to find their own place on the timeline, and the burning inside his head lessened.

He got a droid to clean up the vomit. He then got up on his shaking legs and went to the bathroom to clean himself up.

Then he cried. He wasn't exactly sure what he was crying about- about all the suffering, all the death, about Leia, about Fox.

He decided it didn't really matter. He was already crying.

He had managed to somewhat dry his tears when his commlink started to ring. He sat down on the bed as he answered the call, and managed not to cry again as Breha wept.

---

The message arrived a day later.

We are here. You know where to find us now. Come, if you remember.

Bail was moving before he could even properly register it.

"I want my ship ready, now!"

He had already packed essentials and draped his cape over his shoulders when his thoughts finally caught up with him.

What if he doesn't remember you?

What if he is not there?

Bail pushed the thoughts away. He had the time to think over the journey.

He called Breha before they made the jump to hyperspace.

"He is not dead", Breha said, in a way that left no room for any arguments. "He will be there."

Yes. Fox's death had happened the same way two times already- there was no reason for the universe to suddenly change the course. Bail had to just believe so. He had to.

They had lost him already before.

Bail was not going to lose him this time.

He breathed deep as the coordinates were set, and the ship made the jump.

Now, he could just wait.

---

The wait had been excruciating.

It was impossible not to go through all of his memories during the journey. It had hurt, sometimes, but Bail wasn't going to let him forget again. No, he needed to remember everything.

His hands were shaking when they jumped out of hyperspace, the planet the coordinates were set on looming beneath them. It was rather easy to find the settlement based on them.

Bail's heart was in his throat as they started to land.

"There are a lot of people", Sateen said. "I know they won't do anything, but-"

"I will go", Bail said. "Just me. I-"

"I know, I know", Sateen said. He then smiled. "I'm sure he remembers. They wouldn't have sent the message if they didn't, right?"

Sateen was correct. Bail nodded, and tried to level his breathing.

He tried his best not to run out of the ship, but his steps were still quick.

There was a large crowd outside. Bail had by now learned to tell the clones apart from each other for the most part, even without the armors, but still. Bail couldn't see him-

There was someone who he did recognise straight away, standing in front of the crowd.

Commander Cody had all the regality and authority of a man who had seen years of war, and Bail knew that he remembered as well.

Bail stepped closer to him. Fox was his younger brother, and his batchmate, or at least had been before. If anyone knew, he would.

"Commander Cody." Bail nodded his head in greeting.

"Senator Organa", Cody greeted back, without hesitation. Yes, he certainly knew.

Bail's heart felt like a engine hammer falling. He needed to know, now.

"We got the message." Somehow he managed to say it without his voice trembling. "Can you tell me where-"

There was movement in the crowd. Bail glanced over, and-

There he was.

Fox looked staight at him, and Bail knew that Fox knew him.

His body was moving already, his legs picking up speed. Then Fox was there, within his reach, and Bail caught him in his arms as their combined momentum sent them straying from the straight-forward course. Fox's upper body was half way over his shoulder, as he gripped onto Bail just as tightly as Bail did onto him, his legs tangling off the ground. It didn't matter. Bail would've held him like this forever, if he needed to.

He did put Fox down eventually, just so he could look at him better.

He looked just like Bail remembered. There was less light streaks in his hair than before, and there were a couple of scars missing that Bail knew he had gotten early on into the war, but otherwise, he was just like before.

Fox looked at him, his hand coming to rest on the side of Bail's face as Bail traced the shape of his jaw.

"Hey", Fox said, his voice almost a whisper, like he didn't trust himself to speak any louder. Bail understood. There was something lodged in his own throat, something that was sure to come spilling out if Bail talked too loud.

"Hello", Bail said. "Hello, my love."

Fox smiled. There were tears gathering into the corner of his eye, and Bail lifted his hand to wipe them away.

They stayed there for a moment longer, before the world expanded back to include others as well. Fox breathed in, and stepped back a little. Bail didn't want to let go yet, and it didn't seem like Fox did, either, because he dropped his hand down, in order to grab onto Bail's arm.

"We need to talk", Fox said. He sounded more serious now, but not in a way that made Bail feel like he was going to tell him something the didn't want to hear. No, this was just something else important. "And...I need to introduce someone to you."

He sounded a bit hesitant, his eyes seaching Bail's, like he was looking for confirmation of some sorts.

Bail smiled.

"Of course", he said. Fox seemed to relax, and he smiled back a bit, before taking Bail's hand, and leading him towards one of the many buildings.

---

"I know it's a lot to ask", Fox said, not looking at Bail directly as he spoke. "I know you- we talked about a girl, and I know that you had one, I heard the news back when-"

"Fox", Bail said, as gently as he could. Fox snapped his mouth shut, and his arms tightened ever so slighty around the small body he was holding against him. "It doesn't matter. I was already a father to a brilliant daughter once. No one is ever going to replace her in my heart, the same way no one could ever replace you. That doesn't mean I won't ever love another child just as much. They are different people, just like you are different from all of your brothers."

Fox finally looked up at him, his eyes full of careful hope.

Bail put his hand on his arm.

"Can I see him?" He asked. Fox nodded, and slowly opened his arms more, letting Bail closer.

The baby had a round, soft face, and a light layer of dark hair on his tiny head, not yet long enough to curl. In the dim lighting of the nursery, his eyes were the same exact shade as Fox's.

The baby looked up at Bail, and Bail loved him already.

"He's perfect", he said, and leaned down to press a kiss to the bright smile on Fox's face.

---

They sat together in Bail's sleeping quarters on the ship.

"Have you thought of a name, yet?" Bail asked. "I know that naming is an important thing for you all."

There had been a lot going on before they left, so Bail had refrained from asking about it before now. Fox had been busy packing up and saying goodbye to all his brothers, and Bail had taken the time to talk more with Commander Cody, as well as met up with many of the members of the Guard. He had been happy to see Thorn again, as well.

Fox looked at the baby on Bail's arms. It was a familiar feeling, to hold such a tiny body, a feeling that Bail had missed greatly after Leia had grown bigger.

"If you want to have a say, we can talk about it more", Fox said. "But I've been calling him Even. It's not a Mando'a name or word, but one of the trainers back on Kamino once told me that it meant a gift. I...after all of what happened, and how we are here now, it just felt right."

"It does", Bail said. "A gift, for all of us."

Even sniffed in his sleep, and turned slightly more towards Bail. Bail smiled.

---

Bail held back a little when they got out of the ship. He stood there at the bottom of the bridge with Even and watched as Fox took Breha in his arms and spun her around, her laughter ringing out like the most beautiful song in the entire Galaxy. He waited patiently as they talked to each other in low voices, and smiled softly as Breha kissed every inch of Fox's face, like she was making up for all the time they had lost.

Then her eyes moved from Fox to Bail, and from Bail to Even. Bail smiled at the look in her eyes as she and Fox made their way to them.

Breha first reached up to press a kiss on Bail's cheek as well.

"A succesful trip, dear?" She asked.

"Very much so", Bail answered. "Enjoyable as well, at least on the way back."

He let himself smirk ever so slightly, making Fox flush and Breha to tap him on his arm.

"Have some manners", she said, and then peered down the little face. "Hello, little love."

Even blinked at her, excitedly searching her face. In the late afternoon sun of Alderaan, a few specks of gold shined through in his dark eyes.

"Here", Bail said, and turned his body properly towards her. She didn't waste a single moment to take Even into her arms. Motherhood had always looked right on her, and it still did.

Bail looked at her, at Even, and at Fox. Perhaps this wasn't the same family he had been given before, but it was still his, and they were all home.

Truly, a gift, for them all.

(Based on my Cody Day fic Like Suns rise and Stars fall)

#happy may the fourth!#have more of my cody day fic!#this time just with less cody and more bail/breha/fox for all my feelings #and yours who I have managed to rope into this lovely mess with me #sw #tcw #Bail Organa #Breha Organa #Commander Fox #bail/breha/fox #Star Writing #my writing #my fics #ficlets

35 notes · View notes

fipindustries · 22 hours

Text

the first lesson

"belief" chuckled the old man as he turned a delicate glass that contained some opulent limonchello "let me tell you something about how wizards trade in belief"

he was bald, with wild curly hair growing to the sides like the branches of a bonsai tree. he was also rather fat, not in a way that made him look flabby but rather round as a whole. his body could be easily drawn as a circle from which his head poked out, if some leeway for stylization were allowed to the artist. he wore a dark suit and dark round glasses as well as a simple goatee.

"do you lock your doors at night with a key?"

"uh... yes, teacher"

sitting in the small round table at the bar, across from him, was his student. a nervous lady, taller than him and far thinner, with a suit similar to his, dark and antiquated. they looked like undertakers. maybe they even were.

"wise thing to do, given your residence"

The student pursed her lips at this but made no comment. for reasons she could not understand her teacher was fond of making fun or criticizing her economic situation. and for sure there was a lot to complain about, she would do as much regularly, but her teacher seemed to be weirdly fixated on this. he would drop comments about it, cheerfully and casually and she would not respond to any of them and little by little the grains of sand would keep accumulating in the back of her head.

"so every night, before you sleep, you lock the front door of your room with a key, you put the key in the locke and you turn it once, and then twice, and you make a habit out of this, so much so that you do it unconciously, it is an automatic gesture with no thought put into it at all. you dont think to yourself 'now the door is locked', is just a truth of the universe, unacknowledged and yet all the same internalized"

"is this a story or is this your speculations about my life?"

"everything is a story if it's not meant to be literally true, maybe it is true, but that is not my intention"

"very well continue, teacher"

"so the next day, when you wake up and need to step out into the world, before doing that you unlock the door. now this is very important, you don't have to take a few moments to collect yourself and wonder if wether you locked your door last night, you dont have to take stock of your memories and recall that indeed you put the key there before going to sleep and locked the door tight, you just unlock the door because it is a deeply accepted truth that the door is simply locked"

"and the only way to unlock it is with a key"

"the only way indeed! very good!"

she didnt need to add that comment, and if it had been simply up to her whim she would have remained silent and let the man continue his lecture. but she had learned that her teacher enjoyed these interjections, however superfluous they might be, he always recieved them with joy and enthusiasm, as if she had solved a mystery or shown a deep insight. this was another of his weird quirks that she entertained simply because they seemed to make her interactions with him more frictionless.

"and now," he continued "imagine one day you go to a party and drink copious ammounts of alcohol, quantities large enough to make you dispossesed of your wits, not that i suggest you would actually do such a thing, at least not on the regular" the teacher gave her an unwanted wink "so your friends carry you back home and you stumble your steps up to your front door and once inside you are so out of sorts that you simply forget to lock the door, after which you fall into your bed and go to sleep"

"is this something about how my compromised state makes me believe for one night that ill be safe even though i havent locked the door or something?"

"not at all, you sleep soundly all night without being attacked, who knows, maybe burglars and robbers were busy in other houses or other parties, getting themselves merry and drunk, whatever the case may be you wake up the next day with no memory of last night, with quite a hangover, sadly there are no pills or medicines that can aid you with your malady at your home, so you will have to go to the corner drugstore to get something to let you handle your headache"

the student pursed her lips once again. there was a drugstore at the corner of her street, so this story not being about her seemed just a fraction less likely, but then again, there were drugstores at the corners of many streets.

"so you unlock your door and step outside, it's a lovely day with the birds singing and the sun shining and you go to the farmacy and buy the medicine you need to handle your hangover, end of the story"

"but how could i have unlocked the door if the door was already unlocked?" she said mechanically, knowing that this was the obvious question the story was baiting.

"exactly! very good my student!"

an overstated praise for a trite question. maybe her teacher just enjoyed being humored.

"for you see, to you it was not a matter of assuring yourself that the door was locked, to you it was simply a truth of the world, as profound and unquestionable as that things fall down"

"i see, and that is the level of belief i have to master in order to do magic?"

"more or less, yes" said the teacher sipping the limonchello.

"seems difficult to achieve without extensive use of manipulation, doublethink, brainwashing or psychodelics"

"hmm? what do you mean?"

"that...to internalize a belief that profoundly, seems hard to do without a lot of mental effort, without a rather strong amount of self deception and psychological trickery"

"i really dont know what you're talking about, you just have to believe, is the easiest thing in the world"

"it's... not, it's very much not, to believe, to truly believe, to actually thoroughly change one's mind about the nature of reality, against proof, against evidence is basically impossible"

"is that what you believe?"

"is-" oh, that was the trick. she had to internally stifle a groan. her teacher had pulled another of his dumb rethorical tricks. he seemed to be just as delighted when she failed to catch on as he was when she stated the obvious.

"that is the first belief you have to change, indeed is the first belief that all wizards have to change when they start" he said, chuckling again.

"that is the first spell that every wizard casts" she said, completing the thought.

"now" said the teacher, pulling out a small box with a large lock on it from his cape. he placed it on the small table, in the middle of the glasses, and then he pulled a key from a pocket. he put the key on the lock and turned once, and twice. then he put the key back into his pocket. "i want you to open this box"

the student looked at the box. so that was her challenge, to find the way to believe in her heart of hearts that this locked box was actually open. no, not even believe in hear heart of hearts, not even to know, really. this had to be something that trascended awareness.

she took a big gulp from her beer. she was going to fail the test so she wanted to steel herself to be embarassed.

obviously it was impossible for her to rewrite her brain right there and then and she was not even going to try. there was going to be no clapping while saying that she believed in fairies. that was just not how actual beliefs about the world were formed.

if it was a trick that all wizards had to master, she didnt have the instruction or the tools for how to do it. she looked at the box a little more. her hands hovered over it, hesitating. the moment she placed her hands on it and failed to open it, the test would be done and she would have failed and the was no circumventing that. she just wanted to delay the pie to her face a little longer.

of course, because she was her, she couldnt help but actually pause and still try her best to find the answer to the conundrum. she covered her mouth with one hand and scratched her mane of curls around her head with the other, like she did whenever she was deep in thought. her brow deeply furrowed with concentration.

And then she realized the true nature of her test. how dissapointing. it was a dumb trick of course. she placed a finger on top of the box and said "abracadabra"

She then opened the box.

"marvelous! marvelous! exceptional! very good my student! not even i did better than that when i was faced with the test!" exclaimed the teacher while clapping enthusiastically.

She was well and truly tired of her master's condescention.

"you didnt lock the box when you put the key in, you unlocked it" she said, rolling her eyes "the box was unlocked all along"

"exactly! precisely! the box was unlocked all along, just like the door in my story was locked all along!"

"no! no that is not the same thing!" insisted the student banging the table with her fist "in your story, someone believing that a door is locked changes reality retroactively to make it so that the door was always locked, but in my case the box was actually unlocked all along!" the ruckus made one of the waiters show up with a confused look in his face

"well yes, that is the point, that is what changing reality retroactively is supposed to look like, like it was unlocked all along" the teacher turned towards the waiter "thanks for showing up, what is the cost of these beverages, garçon?"

"that would be 30 in total"

"ah! very well, now you see i am a magician, so allow me a bit of flair" said the master waving his hands around in a very theatrical way "your fee is inside that box being held by my lovely assistant, my dear girl would you hand the box to our waiter?"

She rolled her eyes and gave the box to the poor confused man. who grabbed it and tried to pry it open. but he couldn't.

"um... is the box closed?" asked the waiter, out of sorts.

"oh? it should be opened, try again" said the old man.

the waiter struggled a little more but he could not open the box in any way. finally he turned to the teacher with forlorn expression.

"i give up, what's the trick?"

the old man reached behind the waiter's left ear and pulled out the key.

"here why dont you try with this"

"that is a really old trick" said the waiter while he unlocked the box and pulled out the money from inside it. he returned the box by forcefully pressing it against the old man's chest.

"what i nice lad!" said the teacher, while putting the key into the lock again and turning it once and then twice again. "anyway, where were we?"

the girl was just looking at he teacher, a mix of confusion, annoyance and a little bit of fear on her face.

"ok, how did you do that" she asked.

"i didnt do anything, you did, you opened the box"

"no, that... that was a trick, the lock is a clever mechanism or something"

"you are thinking like a magician, and i am asking you to think like a wizard, you opened this box, my dear girl, because you believed that it was opened, you already did this trick once, now all you have to do" said the man, placing the box back into the table "is do it again"

she hesitated.

"this is still a trick, right? you rigged it somehow so that if i try ill be able to open the box?"

the teacher laid back on the chair, very satisfied with himself. he crossed his fingers over his belly. she somehow felt that this, out of everything he had done that night, was his most sincere display of pride in her.

"what do you believe?" he said

she reached for the box.

#writing #i wanted to write a small vignette in the world of introduction to magic #introduction to magic

43 notes · View notes

sucker-for-emily-prentiss · 7 hours

Text

A mother’s love (is unlike any other)

Author’s Note: I’m a person who suffers from GAD and this fic is entirely based off of my experience with this disorder. Everybody’s experience is different and this piece of material is not meant to disrespect anybody else’s journey or struggles. Enjoy🤍

Summary: You are Emily’s sixteen year old daughter and you’ve not been feeling well for a while so you’ve sought out Tara’s help. You see her twice a month behind Emily’s back, until you decide that it’s time you talk to her.

TW: self harm, GAD, panic attack, panic disorder.

————————————————————————

You sneak into the BAU like you’ve been doing for the past three months. Almost every week, your mother, Emily Prentiss, being the Section Chief of the behavioral analysis unit has a meeting with her higher ups regarding her team. You know because every time she comes home bitching about the ‘entitled white pricks’ that make her life a living hell.

When that day is to come you and Tara, your mother’s colleague, text each other and set a therapy appointment for the hour Emily will be stuck in a conference room being bored out of her mind. Thankfully, those meetings tend to happen every Tuesday, a day where you first period at school is free and therefore you have the choice not to go until the second period is meant to start.

You pass the security, Jeff greeting you with a smile while passing you your visitor’s badge and you smile back passing him back a coffee. They have a silent agreement; so long as she brings him coffee he does not let her mother know of her whereabouts. You’ve made sure to dress in a way where you could blend in — stealing clothes of your mother’s, old pairs of jeans and shirts that she doesn’t wear anymore but used to wear when she was younger, a blouse and a leather jacket— and you go unnoticed every time.

You get off the elevator on floor below the BAU and then take the stairs, avoiding coming face to face with any other members of your mother’s team that could recognize you. You climb up the flight of stairs, open the door at the end of them and quickly look right and left as agents pass in front of her in a hurry. You notice Tara leaning up against a wall checking her phone and you start approaching her.

The moment the woman spots you she stands up a little straighter and a smile graces her features. You take quick steps towards her and you do a little happy dance on the inside, having accomplished yet again the mission of sneaking into the FBI headquarters undetected.

But that is not the case today.

You are only a few feet away from Tara when someone rounds a corner and you bump right into them. “Watch it!” They say in a harsh, exhausted tone.

“I’m sorry.” You respond and then look up. “Mom.” You squeak out as your mother’s brown eyes pierce through your own.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” She asks you confused, until worry settles on her face. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No, no, I’m okay.” You reply quickly, stealing glances with Tara who also knows that you are utterly screwed.

“Alright.” Your mom says, relief washing over her, but confusion remaining a dominant emotion in her features. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I…” you start, words failing both you and Tara who just shakes her head in something that resembles fear. You cannot blame her, your mother can be a rather scary individual.

The woman behind your mother clears her throat, making her presence known to her boss. “She is here to surprise you, isn’t that right, y/n?” Tara says and your mom looks back and forth between the two of you.

“Surprise me.” She repeats, looking into your soul and making you heart beat faster than it does when you run laps in gym class.

You nod your head furiously. “Surprise you, yes. And you ruined it.” You day with a chuckle. “I thought, we could have breakfast together, you know?” Tara presses her lips together and you resist the urge to scowl at her. You know the excuse is lame but you’ve never been good at improvisation. Or lying to your mother.

“You drove all the way to Quantico, on a school day, to have breakfast with me.” The raised eyebrow that is borderline reaching her hairline lets you know that you’ve been caught on the lie.

However, you hold on to false hope. “Yeah, I mean, do you even remember the last time we had breakfast together?” You scoff. “I sure don’t.”

She nods her head, pursing her lips, and suddenly she reminds you of that one Meryl Strip movie where she plays that woman running a magazine and you feel like Anne Hathaway on her first day working for her.

She looks back at Tara who just shrugs at her. Your mom looks to her left and opens the door to the office you and Tara usually have your sessions. “In here. Now.” She says, her voice not leaving room for arguments.

“I’m just gonna-” Tara starts, but your mom doesn’t let her get away with it, either.

“You,” she says looking at Tara in a way that must be even scarier than her usual because Tara cannot even look her in the eye, “are not going anywhere. Get in here.”

You both enter and Tara scowls at you. “Breakfast?” She whispers. “That’s the best you got?”

“You said she had a meeting.” You whisper back.

Behind you, your mom slams the door shut and locks it before turning around, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at the both of you waiting for an explanation. “I can stand here and wait for either one of you to talk. I’ve got nothing better to do.” She lets you know and she means business.

You look at Tara for help, hoping that she can get you out of this. “You know I can’t lie.” Tara tells you I’m that gentle soothing tone she uses in your sessions. “But I won’t talk unless I have your permission.”

“Why do you need her permission?” Your mom asks with a frown.

You look between Tara and your mom and you can feel the panic rising in your chest. It starts with something the size of the iceberg that hit the titanic settling on your chest, making your breathing shallow. Your breaths are quick and shallow, your heart is beating approximately a hundred and fifty beats per minute, your ears have started ringing and your vision is getting blurry. Everything starts to go numb, starting with your fingers and slowly spreading throughout your body and then you are paralyzed.

You can feel two pairs of hands moving you to sit and as your ass hits the couch, feeling comes back to your limbs and you realize you’ve stopped breathing. You suck in a breath and look around in panic and you can see your mother saying something, trying to get your attention.

“Emily, with all due respect, either shut up or get out.” You hear Tara say before turning her attention back to you. “Y/n, look at me, focus on my voice.” She says and you try your damn best to do so. “Good job, honey, now breathe.” She says and counts to five as you breathe. “And out.” She says, counting to five once again.

She makes you repeat that same exercise ten times, just to make sure that your breathing is normal and you are significantly calmer than a few minutes ago. And you do. Your pulse is back to a normal rhythm, your legs and hands are no longer tingly and your vision is no longer covered by tiny black spots.

“Touch your fingers with your thumbs.” Tara instructs you and only now you notices that she is a crouched down in front of you on the couch.

You lift your hands slightly and while your movements are shaky you manage to do the simple task you were assigned. You repeat it as many times as it takes for the trembling to stop and only when it does you dare look over to your mother.

Tears gather in your eyes as you see her wet face and the hand covering her mouth to keep you from noticing her quivering lip. “Mama?” You manage to let out.

She’s by your side right away, sitting down next to you and wrapping her arms around you, enveloping you in a ‘mama bear hug’ as you two call them. She kisses your temple, runs her hand up and down your arm and whispers lovingly in your ear that ‘you’re gonna be okay’ and ‘I love you’.

“I’m sorry.” You say with your face buried in her shoulder, soaking her shirt with your tears. “I’m so sorry, mama.” You say again and she holds you tighter against her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my little angel, you hear me?” She says, a tear falling from her chin to your head. “Nothing.” She repeats and kisses the top of your head.

“Y/n, do you wanna talk to your mom alone or do you want me to stay?” Tara asks.

You raise you head from your mother’s shoulder and wipe your face from the tears with the sleeve of your blouse. “Give us a few minutes?” You ask. “I’ll text you to come in if I need you.”

Tara nods and stands up. “Of course.” She says.

As she walks to the door you stop her before she can open it. “Tara?” You hear yourself saying. She turns her head and looks at you over her shoulder. “Thank you.” You say.

Tara smiles at you. “Any time mini Prentiss.” She winks and walks out, closing the door behind her.

You scoot away from your mom, creating some space between the two of you and at the same time bracing yourself for the conversation that’s about to happen. “Honey, what is going on?” She asks reaching out and taking on of your hands in hers.

You don’t pull away and instead hold onto it as if it’s your lifeline. “I-” you pause because this is not an easy things to say and you are certain that it’s not going to be easier for your mother to hear. “I hurt myself.” You finally admit. “A while ago.”

Your mother’s eyes immediately fill with tears at this. “You attempted-”

You are quick to stop her. “No, I didn’t attempt anything.” You say. “But I have been feeling overwhelmed, more than usual. It feels as though my brain travels faster than light does and I tried so many things to make it stopped but nothing worked.” You swallow the lump in your throat and your mom squeezes your hand, prompting you to continue. “So I resulted to self harm. It was the only thing that worked. It was the only thing that allowed me a few moments of peace and quiet from everything that has been going on in my head.”

She nods, wiping away a few stray tears with her free hand. “Are you still doing it?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t self harmed for almost a month now.” You admit, proudly.

She smiles at you. “I’m really proud of you.” She says. “For telling me, for finding the strength to stop, for asking for help.” She brings your hand up to her lips and kisses it. “My sweet angel, why didn’t you come to me right away?” She asks you.

You sigh, because you are still searching for the answer to that question. “I don’t know.” You respond. “I guess Tara seemed like the easiest choice. I guess I wanted to know what’s wrong with me first before I worried you.”

She chuckles at that and shakes her head. “Honey, I’m your mom. Worrying at all times for everything in the job description.”

You giggle at that. “So you are not mad?” You ask, your voice coming out small and scared while your eyes wander around the room.

“Hey, look at me.” She says, placing her free hand under your chin and turning your head gently so it’s facing her. “I could never be mad at you for something like this.” She assures you. “It’s not something you can control, sweetie.”

You scoff. “I know that now.” You say and she chuckles at the hints of your attitude resurfacing again. Hints of an attitude that matched her own.

“So,” she asks, “what did Tara say? Is there a diagnosis?”

You sigh. “Generalized Anxiety Disorder and panic disorder. I was planning on telling you soon, because Tara wants to start me on medication.”

She nods. “Okay, why don’t you text her to come in here so we can discuss it?”

You take out your phone and shoot her a text.

You: She wants to talk. Can’t believe you told her to shut up. She’s gonna kill you.

Tara: I am scared.

You: Just teasing. She’s cool.

Tara: She’s turned you into an exact replica of her.

You: Thanks!

Tara: It wasn’t a compliment.

You laugh and put your phone back in your pocket. “She’ll be here shortly.” You inform your mother. “Go easy on her, alright? I asked her to keep it between and she was under doctor-patient confidentiality. I could sue her.”

She laughs before hugging you once again, this time not a hug of hurt and worry but a hug of love and relief. “I love you so much my little angel.” She says.

You smile. “Love you, too, mom.”

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #criminal minds fandom #tara lewis #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #daughter reader #au #fanfic writing #writers on tumblr

23 notes · View notes

good-old-gossip · 3 days

Text

Terrorist State Israel KIDNAPS wife of a Palestinian Journalist

Israeli forces arbitrarily detained the wife of Middle East Eye correspondent Mohammed al-Hajjar on Thursday, and refused to disclose why she was being held at a military checkpoint as his family made their way south of Gaza City.

Since Israel launched its ground invasion of Gaza in late October, Israeli forces have detained hundreds of civilians from their homes or while fleeing on roads declared safe by the army.

Some have been released after interrogation but many have been taken to undisclosed locations. Hajjar, who has been working with MEE for more than six years, said that an Israeli soldier stopped his family at a checkpoint at the Netzarim corridor earlier on Thursday, and ordered him to collect the identification cards of his immediate family members and other Palestinians who were also making their way south of the city.

Hajjar said he was interrogated about everyone near him who was trying to make their way south, and when the soldier came to his wife Inas's ID card, he asked what their relationship was.

After telling the soldier that it was his wife, the soldier said: "Go give her ID to her and tell her to come. You go south".

"I thought he wanted to ask her something, so I waited outside. The soldier came back and said: ‘Go south, leave from here’," Hajjar recalled.

He said that he told the soldier that he wanted to wait for his wife but he was immediately threatened at gunpoint to leave. "'I'm telling you to leave' the soldier told me, and about eight soldiers pointed their guns at me, took Inas, who had her hands up, and searched her.

"They kept telling me to leave and not look back," he said. Hajjar added that he then attempted to head south with his two young children, but after walking for a lengthy period under the midday sun, without any shade, he dropped one of his bags out of exhaustion.

"A military patrol came and a soldier told me to take the bag. I said I was tired and needed help. He (the soldier) said: 'We are not supposed to help Palestinians'."

A couple of hours later, Hajjar said the Israeli army called his wife's brother, Alaa, and told him: "Wear white clothes and carry a white flag and come surrender yourself. Only when you surrender yourself will we release your sister." Hajjar told MEE that his wife Inas has no affiliations with any political groups and that her father used to work in Israel.

Meanwhile, her other brother works in his father's shop and neither he nor his friends are involved with any political factions. "I don't know what they want from her brother." Hajjar said that he last heard about his wife more than 10 hours ago when Inas's brother spoke with Israeli soldiers.

"I am afraid they might mistreat her or be violent towards her. The kids cry all the time, they cried the whole way, and until now, they want their mother," he said.

Earlier this year, UN experts said they had received information that Palestinian women and girls have "reportedly been arbitrarily executed in Gaza, often together with family members, including their children".

The UN experts said they were "shocked by reports of the deliberate targeting and extrajudicial killing of Palestinian women and children in places where they sought refuge or while fleeing. Some of them were reportedly holding white pieces of cloth when they were killed by the Israeli army or affiliated forces".

Israel launched its assault on Gaza after the Palestinian group Hamas led an attack on southern Israel on 7 October killing at least 1,139 people, according to a MEE tally based on official Israeli figures.

At least 240 others were seized and taken to Gaza as hostages. Israel responded with a devastating bombing campaign and ground invasion that has displaced more than 80 percent of Gaza’s population and reduced much of the territory to ruins.

More than 34,000 people have been killed, according to Palestinian authorities. In the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem, Israeli forces have intensified raids since 7 October, killing hundreds of Palestinians and detaining thousands of others.

23 notes · View notes

lilac-witch · 7 hours

Text

If My Wish Came True, It Would've Been You - Azriel x OC

CHAPETR ONE: ALL YOU HAVE IS YOUR FIRE AND THE PLACE YOU NEED TO REACH

word count: 1.1k

synopsis: Koschei's forces are growing stronger by the day, and the fae of Prythian need an answer to their prayers. Thankfully, the Most Handsome High Lord is full of entertaining ideas.

warnings: strong language.

a/n: the above media work is not mine and I have no idea who to credit 😢 if you are the owner/know the owner, please let me know so I can credit their work or replace it should you/they not wish to have it displayed. also, the plot of this series may not align with the writings of SJM completely, and that is because I am taking creative liberties to lead the story in the direction I want it to go 😁

main masterlist | series masterlist

Formal meetings had never been Azriel’s strong suit. Too many fae and no shadows to hide in and watch from—forced to sit in an uncomfortable chair not made to accommodate his wings—subjected to the flamboyant disagreements of those who held power.

“If you sit any straighter your spine may stay fixed in that position.”

Azriel’s head swayed slightly to the right, meeting the amused violet-blue eyes of his High Lord. “It’s not my fault that these fucking chairs make it feel like someone is busy shoving a stick up your arse.”

Azriel’s keen eyes caught the slight uplift of Rhysand’s mouth despite his cool, composed posture.

“Such vulgar language, Az! I think you’ve been spending too much time with Cassian and Nesta.”

Azriel resisted the urge to give Rhys the finger, so as to avoid an uncomfortable conversation with the company they presently shared.

For the last several hours, Azriel had found himself sharing a space with not only one, but seven High Lords. The bi-annual High Lord’s meeting—the only time of the year when one could expect to find all of the great powers of Prythian in one room together.

“Are you going to bring it up?”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed in displeasure, face souring ever so slightly.

“Yes, in a few moments. We can’t delay the inevitable, I suppose.”

Azriel watched his High Lord for a moment before responding. “You’re not to blame. You know that right?”

Rhys's head bobbed—in agreeance or thanks, Azriel wasn’t completely sure.

Rhys cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the bickering High Lords scattered around the table. “As much as I enjoy watching the lot of you nip at each other's tails, there is a much more… pressing matter to discuss.”

“And what would that be Rhysand?” the red-headed lord mused. “Here to tell us you are the mother’s gift to us all? That we ought to bow before your feet? Name you King?”

Azriel snarled in warning, only to be waved off by Rhys. Beron, High Lord of the Autumn Court—and the greatest waste of space Azriel had come across in over 500 years of existence.

“That’s right. Call your dog off,” Beron said, lips parting to reveal that smug smile of victory. Cauldron, it made him want to knock the arrogant redheads’ teeth out.

“As I was saying…” Rhys drawled. “There are signs of Koschei’s troops gathering in great numbers. We assume they are planning to attack. The question begs as to when.”

“And you learnt this from the shadows that whisper in your dog’s ear, I presume?” Beron questioned, the remark causing Azriel’s fists to clench.

“He’s a prick. Don’t let him get to you.”

Azriel took a deep breath as Rhys’s voice infiltrated his mind. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly, his hands relaxed, settling palms down on his leather-bound knees.

“Elain has been having visions,” Rhys revealed as Azriel monitored shocked expressions litter the faces of those who sat around the table.

“Well…that is most concerning,” Thesan breathed, slouching back in his chair—chin finding the cup of his palm.

“You’re certain it’s Koschei she’s seeing?” Helion asked, leaning forward to rest his weight on his onyx forearms. Azriel couldn’t recall a time when he had seen the High Lord of Day look so serious.

Rhys nodded. “We’re almost completely confident that Elain is seeing the death god–”

“And what would you have us do, Rhysand? Our troops are a little thin after the last war you led us into.”

Azriel resisted releasing the primal growl that rose up through his chest—threatening to rattle his ribcage like one of the musical shakers he’d seen being played in the street of Velaris. “You seem to be misinformed about your own cavalry, High Lord. From what my sources tell me, your troops were barely dented by the war, unlike the rest of the courts.”

Beron snarled at him, eyes ablaze with that raging fire that ran through his Autumn Court veins. A compulsive liar—just like his eldest son.

“So, another war is upon us, and we are low on means of muscle and protection,” Kallias stated, rubbing at the skin between his stark white eyebrows. “What do you suggest as a solution? Will the mortal queens aid us?”

“Vassa might, but Mother knows Koschei will do everything he can to tighten his noose around her.” Rhys leaned back in his chair, and Azriel noted his attempt to appear nonchalant despite his growing agitation. “There is another option…”

Azriel knew that pondering look on his brother’s face too well. That was a look of scheming—of plans that may or may not get them killed…again.

Rhys took a breath before continuing. “A few months ago, the Night Court received a visitor from a distant land. A very distant land.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat. No… Rhys would have to be out of his god's damned mind to be suggesting this.

“Her name was Bryce Quinlan. Fae, although not completely like us, but not entirely different either. She possessed the power of a star. And she fell through worlds…”

“Are you meaning to tell us that you had a fae from another world land on your doorstep?” Helion blanched, his deep-coloured skin seeming to glow with excitement. “Why in the name of all things good are you only telling us this now!”

It was Azriel who spoke next. “We didn’t know who she was, what she was, and what she was capable of. We didn’t want to take the chance of word getting out, and the issue becoming larger than what it was.”

Rhys looked to Thesan, whose intelligent eyes were combing through this newfound information. “She’s back on her home planet, where she belongs. Her stay was brief, but her impact… tremendous.”

“You wish to seek out her help.”

“Yes,” Rhys confirmed. “She mentioned great powers that protected her world from harm. Warriors of unparalleled strength. She called them Valkyrie.”

“That’s not possible,” Helion countered. “The Valkyrie died out centuries ago.”

Rhys simply nodded. “They did. In our world.”

The silence that followed was almost painful. No one dared to utter a word—as if fearing that everything would shatter like glass.

Surprisingly, it was the Lord of Spring who broke the spell. “Let’s say your idea holds value. How do you plan on contacting this… Bryce Quinlan, when she is worlds away?”

Rhys’s lips turned up in that arrogant smirk that had earned him his nickname—prick. It was then that Azriel realized. Rhys had been thinking about this for a while—a long while. And he had formulated a plan that he was seemingly confident about.

“My second in command has some incredibly useful qualities,” Rhys hummed, threading his fingers together. “Why don’t you leave the details to me.”

Eeek!!!

I'm so happy to finally be uploading this! I've been mulling over this idea for ages and it feels so good to finally put pen to paper... kind of. I hope you guys love it, and I can't wait for the chapters to come!

#acotar #rhysand #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #crescent city #bryce quinlan #azriel x oc #helion #thesan #kallias #tamlin #beron vanserra #azriel x reader

22 notes · View notes