#I also don’t think I’ve mentioned but the next chapter is going to be another interlude featuring the Race&Maggie apology | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

januaryembrs · 8 months

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TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.

word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)

trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.

authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!

series masterlist | next chapter

[this] means its spoken in another language.

—

‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,

I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’

1. the one where you become a translator.

“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa.

A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached.

It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up.

“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,”

“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,”

Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different.

Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug.

Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup.

“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”

“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.

Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct.

“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown.

“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”

Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought.

“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up.

Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.

“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?”

“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap.

“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.

Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.

“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned.

Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister.

“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.

Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered.

“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,”

Spencer gulped quietly.

Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”

–

Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan.

Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze.

She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman.

“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister’s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it.

It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors.

She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs.

“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.

“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,”

He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.

“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?”

“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,”

She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”

She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them.

“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”

“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”

“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”

Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter.

“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.”

She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student.

“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again.

“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”

Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words.

How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?

–

“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently.

She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore.

“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly.

“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse.

“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish.

“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”

He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod.

“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket.

Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours.

“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,”

“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more.

“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet.

“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt.

“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick.

“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her.

“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,”

“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway.

“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.

Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny.

In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them.

“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face.

Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder.

“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips.

“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them.

“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed.

“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol.

“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown.

“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze.

“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her.

He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her.

“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly.

“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”

A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in.

“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command.

“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,”

“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!”

“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?”

“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand.

“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.

A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be.

“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,”

“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep.

“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue.

Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent.

“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”

Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],”

The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses.

“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun.

“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],”

“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],”

Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car.

“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”

“He said I made the wrong decision,” She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,”

With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips.

“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside.

“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,”

“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand.

“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,”

She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened.

–

The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer.

Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera.

She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture.

There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good.

But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately.

“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully.

She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.

“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair.

“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?”

She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,”

It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them.

“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them.

“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls.

“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place.

“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door.

She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face.

It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice.

Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon.

“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”

Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers.

“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?”

“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.

She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant.

“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod.

“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,”

“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.

“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front.

And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost.

“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,”

“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk.

“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?”

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”

His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh.

“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully.

“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did.

Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over.

“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile.

“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice.

“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat.

She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.

“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen.

“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”

“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,”

“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,”

She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs.

“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile.

“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,”

“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,”

“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face.

“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat.

She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding.

It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else.

So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from.

There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing.

“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin.

“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,”

“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,”

But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation.

So why lie?

She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately.

“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster.

“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction.

“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,”

The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head.

“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly.

Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do.

And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight.

–

The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself.

“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk.

“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her.

“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes.

“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.

“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.”

“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too.

“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place.

“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”

“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke.

He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that.

“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-”

“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant.

“Before when he said it was ‘our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at.

“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.

“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,”

The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”

“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.

“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed.

“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,”

Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation.

Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”

She frowned at him, scoffing, “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”

The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”

She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her.

“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?”

Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,”

But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly.

“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her.

“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-”

“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,”

Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself.

He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.

“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”

“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.

“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.

“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left.

“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”

“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”

“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes.

“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”

“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.

“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back.

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”

It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house.

Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes.

“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window.

“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”

“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”

She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”

“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-”

“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”

“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her.

Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”

Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,”

Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her.

Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all.

Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.

He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number.

“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.

“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.

“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”

“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,”

“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.

+1. The one where you get arrested.

The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him.

His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so.

Yet so was Emily.

The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway.

“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.

“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?”

She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times.

“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,”

The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown.

Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad.

“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea.

The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”

“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,”

The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront.

“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose.

“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb.

“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch.

“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”

“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear.

“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.

She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh.

She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.

Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”

“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan.

“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder.

The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.

“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.

Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her.

“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury.

She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke.

“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them.

“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,”

“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out.

“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”

Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan.

“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,”

If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze.

“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,”

Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans.

“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never.

He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far.

“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,”

She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl.

“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,”

The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”

“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.

Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road.

“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,”

JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line.

“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms.

Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them.

“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,”

Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet.

“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,”

JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later.

“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,”

“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.

“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.

“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more.

“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,”

Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”

The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on.

“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought.

“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,”

Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off.

“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault.

“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”

“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”

Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block.

“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs.

“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,”

He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.

He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas.

Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried.

Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth.

“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back.

+2. The one where you graduate

Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life.

With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk.

“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”

Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face.

“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table.

Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.

JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again.

Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up.

It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough.

“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”

“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”

“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”

“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.

Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”

As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.

The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.

“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”

Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-”

“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”

“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words.

Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”

Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast.

“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”

Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing.

“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming.

“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”

The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered.

“Bug-”

“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation.

“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”

“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,”

“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”

Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”

“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”

“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down.

The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you.

“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,”

JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-”

“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”

“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”

“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-”

The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress.

The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled?

Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her.

But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother.

All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery.

“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.”

P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it.

She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close.

“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”

She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab.

Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika.

She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps.

To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was.

Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her.

Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them.

And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat.

The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand.

And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs.

Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close.

“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer.

“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team.

“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,”

She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand.

“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”

She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.

“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”

“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”

“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer.

Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy.

“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”

Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling.

“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.

“Don’t even,”

+3. The one where you’re taken hostage

“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss.

Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready.

“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound.

“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?”

“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,”

Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy.

“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup.

Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”

“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path.

A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first.

She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye.

“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”

She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?”

Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing.

“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,”

“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track.

“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages.

“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses.

“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest.

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm.

“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.

“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.

“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand.

“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”

He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,”

He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers.

Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head.

“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long.

Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant.

“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.

“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,”

“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound.

“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”

Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing.

He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there.

It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back.

Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before.

She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery.

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye.

She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.

Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it.

“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off.

That was when the shooting started.

She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening.

Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye.

“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”

“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”

“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church.

They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised.

Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen.

She could only hope Emily was safe.

She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister.

Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.

Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person.

Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall.

“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.”

Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine.

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting.

“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed.

“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,”

And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away.

–

They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax.

She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze.

“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes.

“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered.

“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”

Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said.

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push.

“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,”

“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,”

Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”

And so they did.

–

Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals.

She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving.

“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,”

“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again.

The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,”

Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,”

She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”

He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,”

She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly.

“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”

She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude.

“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”

Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”

She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious.

Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness.

“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them.

“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.

If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou.

“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her.

“The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”

She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick.

Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage.

–

The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive.

The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice.

They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms.

This was not good.

“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression.

The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear.

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach.

She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy.

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily.

But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won.

Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple.

“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight.

“It’s me,”

She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving.

Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.

“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head.

He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise.

He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture.

“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull.

She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them.

It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was.

–

She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least.

She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her.

Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds.

She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating.

But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”

Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl.

“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”

“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.

“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,”

She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,”

“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed.

Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action.

–

Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over.

Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?

She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless.

It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now.

It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority.

2:53 stared back at her.

At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened.

2:54.

She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle.

The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor.

“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them.

She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical.

Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost.

Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth.

She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free.

He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet.

“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”

Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine.

She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.

And she saw why.

Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight.

Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps.

Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle.

Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more.

“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her.

“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her.

Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared, still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs.

He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly.

“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his.

She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved.

“You saved mine,”

And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay.

Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.

“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”

She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying.

“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”

“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”

Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes.

She stayed with Emily for a month after that.

+4. The one where you leave the altar.

She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building.

Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors.

Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse.

Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran.

Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state.

“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”

“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”

“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”

She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight.

“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”

She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street.

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius.

She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister.

“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-”

“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”

Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug.

“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner.

“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body.

“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.

“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric.

“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!”

He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave.

“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”

“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days.

“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,”

“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog.

“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”

Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back.

“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll.

“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”

“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,”

She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat.

“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”

“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.

“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more.

“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-”

“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.

“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings.

“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”

“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?”

“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,”

“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,”

“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”

“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess.

“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders.

“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,”

His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off.

“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist.

Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess.

Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,”

Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be.

“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through.

–

let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??

Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺

SECOND EDIT: part two and three are out now!! Have a look at the top where it says ‘next chpt and it’s there bbys!!

THIRD EDIT: we are now balls deep into this universe here's th link for the masterlist

#spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #Prentiss #prentiss!Reader #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #mathew grey gubler #Matthew grey gubler x reader

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the-avengers-not-the-nazis · 2 months

Text

Bad moon rising III

Summary: After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.

Word count: 3.7k

Poly!Lost boys x Emerson!reader

[1] [2] [3] [4]

A/n: This chapter will have a brief mention of SA, so this is your warning! But, don’t worry because we kick ass, literally. I also love this chapter, because it does go a bit more into the boys protectiveness and yours and theirs feelings for one another. So please in joy:)

You awoke groggily the next morning.

Staying up late the night before at the boardwalk did not mix in well with your normal sleeping routine. Sun filtered through the blinds, the light casting a glow throughout your bedroom. You lightly stirred awake, tugging on the itchy sheets to keep last of your sleep from wandering away.

“Y/n?” A voice called out from behind the closed door. “Sam and I’ve made breakfast, if your hungry.”

A muffled ‘ok’ surpassed your lips, the sound of your mother’s footsteps fading from your door. You reluctantly got out of bed, your pajama shirt that you may or may not have taken from Micheal’s closet rested loosely around your hips, the waist of your shirts twisted around your body from last nights sleep.

Glancing around your room, you took in the multitude of box’s that littered the ground. Each having different labels from t-shirt and underwear all the way to cd’s and band posters. You knew that you’d have to empty the boxes at one point, and not fish through everything just to find a clean pair of socks.

You slowly walked out of your room, careful not to roll an ankle stepping over a box of shoes. The floor was cold against your bare feet, causing a soft chill to run through your body as you made your way down the stairs.

Soft clinking of silverware and scraping plates met your ears as you rounded the stairs railing. Sam, Micheal and mom came into view, each of them sitting around the dining table, their breakfast either already eaten or halfway gone.

Your gave them each a morning greeting, mom receiving a politer one than either of your brothers. Upon entering the kitchen, you made a quick plate, filled with plenty of eggs and bacon to keep your hunger subsided for a couple of hours.

You returned back to the dining room, sitting next to Micheal. Mom and Sam sat on the opposite side, a single plate pulled with just bacon and a glass of orange juice sat at the head of the table. Definitely Grandpas.

Though, where the old man currently was, is beyond you.

As you start to eat your breakfast with your family, the gentle noise from outside passing as conversation for now. Mom let out an appealed hum, mouth stuffed with her own cooking, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she began to speak.

“I forgot to tell you guys,” Voice slightly muffled by her hand. “I already found a job for myself.”

You slowed your eating, glancing between your brothers and mother. “Already?” You asked, lightly stabbing the yellow bit of egg. “We’ve been here less than a day, how have you got a job?”

Mom lowered her hand, smile still evident on her face. “Yes, well, last night at the boardwalk, I met a fine man who offered me a job at his store.”

“Fine man?” Micheal echoed, leaning back in his chair. “We don’t have to expect him around the house, will we?”

“No, no.” She waved off. “He is just a sweet man, who happened to notice someone in need of work.”

You shared a quick glance at Micheal, not entirely certain if the guy was just looking out for a stranger or more. Sam, on the other hand, was estatic for mom. Talking with a mouthful of his breakfast. “That’s great, mom. And, just think, when you get your first check, we can buy a TV.”

Micheal rolled his eyes at his brothers sudden accusation, you held back a smile. Remembering the conversation from yesterday about having no MTV to watch here at grandpas.

“We can’t spend our money on entertainment, Sam. We have help pay for food and bills, we can’t just live off of grandpa forever.” She told him, taking a quick sip of her orange juice. “Besides, a video store will not pay that much on the first check.”

“Your working at a video store?” You asked, even though she had just told you the answer to your question.

She gave a soft nod, standing up from the table with her plate and drink in hand. “Yes, unfortunately. It was the only thing that I could find in such short notice.” She then walked out of the dining room, leaving you with your brothers.

Sam looked between you and Micheal, a sad look on his face. “My god,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair with defeat. “We’re going to be living in the streets by the end of the summer.”

You kicked him beneath the table, earning a pained noise to pass his lips.

After breakfast, you returned back upstairs, gently closing your bedroom door behind you. Kicking an empty box out of your way as you sat down on your bed. Out of the corner of your eye, the sun bounced off of a square object, the light shining in your face.

Turning in the direction, you eyed the cd from last night. The same one that the bleach blonde slipped into your back pocket. Reaching over, you picked up the object, twisting it around in your hand as you read the song listings for the cd.

You pondered with the disk in hand, gently tapping it against your palm as you eyed your cd player. A pair of headphones hung on top of the device, eagerly waiting to be played.

A tired sigh passing your lips as you opened the plastic case. You weren’t one to judge people’s music, often giving each genre a try before making a conclusion on it. But, stolen music was something that’d you’d happily judge.

Placing the disk into the appropriate slot, you pressed play on the cd player. The music played through the headphones, the padded material fitting snug against your ears. You laid out on your bed, letting the music calm you, despite the punk metal flowing through your head.

You hadn’t seen the four boys over the past week at the boardwalk. Well, you did see them, anyone could see them. But, they were always driving away on their bikes or terrifying some tourists that got to close to them.

You also didn’t know what to say to them, it wasn’t like you were friends with any of them. So, you just stuck to the side when they would get too close or change directions entirely, not wanting to be noticed by the leatherback motorcyclists.

But, you were noticed.

They knew when you were near, and they knew when you would hide away in a random shop when they’d passed by. To them it was hilarious, this girl that they’d barley known was doing everything in her power to keep herself hidden from them.

It wasn’t like it was something new to them, plenty of people dodged their presence when around them. Often, giving them a clear path to walk along the boardwalk.

Though, whenever they would catch the sweet odor of your perfume, or the soft beating of your heart. Their feet would follow after you, trailing a good distance behind to not alarm you of their presence.

And it was like they couldn’t stop when they would catch your smell in a crowd.

It was something deep down that made them follow after you, something deep within their cold body’s that tethered them with you. They all felt it, that odd pull when one of them would spot you. But, none of them would speak out loud about it, not knowing how to ask what it was or why it was you.

They just knew that the pull they’d fell would softly strengthen itself they closer they were to you. And a small part of them was curious of what it could mean.

You watched as the sun lowered itself behind the crashing waves of the ocean, soft pinks and purples mixing in with the night sky before it turns black. It was always mesmerizing how the sun would move so quickly, yet slowly throughout the day. Beginning and ending just as it had started, beautifuly.

The railing from the boardwalk dug into your forearms as you leaned against it, a peaceful feeling scorching through your body at the sight before you. You knew you’d have to leave soon, you promised mom that you’d be back before dinner.

Pulling yourself from the deck, you made your way over to the stairs leading down to the beach. Straps of your bag digging into your shoulders, as the weight of your items shifted. The only reason that you had brought the thing was because you’d wished to open your wallet a bit more tonight.

A couple of happy’s for your family and yourself. As well as your house keys, wallet and Walkman. (For when you get bored.)

The sand inched itself into the crevices of your soles, no doubt something that mom would get on to you about if you track any kind of grime into the house.

You could have just walked along the boardwalk, but you were growing a bit tired of the over packed people crowding around you. Too many sweaty bodies, and far too many noises. So, a nice walk along the beach would be the perfect way to end the night.

A small fire came into view, the light casting a soft glow around a group of kids that surrounded it. You didn’t recognize them. Not that you’d recognize a whole lot of people with only being in town for a total of two weeks, but still. Loud music came from the group, shouts and laughter erupting the quiet atmosphere of the beach.

You kept your focus away from the group, not wanting to disturb their own fun. Keeping a far away distance to not draw any attention towards yourself. Though that seems to be the opposite of tonight’s plans.

A sharp whistle came from the group, dragging you out of your peace.

You glanced over at the bonfire, stopping momentarily in the sand. They were a lot closer to you than the fire itself, maybe a few feet away than the couple of yards they were previously at.

“Where you running off to on such a nice night, babe?” One of them asked, his voice slur like. The nickname didn’t roll off his tongue like Paul’s did the other night, no, instead it came off forced and disoriented. Almost like the name was just a way to try and sweet talk you.

“Home.” You told him bluntly, taking slow but deliberant steps away from them.

An airy chuckle came from a different guy, “What a coincidence, so are we.”

“Please don’t follow me.” You said over your shoulder, picking up your pace when you realized that they were starting to follow you.

“Why not, you look like you could use the company.”

You didn’t give a response, instead kept your head forward, ignoring the calls that they continued to ring out. “C’mon, beautiful, this a way to treat a gentleman?”

An hand gripped your arm, yanking you back into the imbrace of a body. Two strong arms wrapped around your waist keeping you tightly in his hold. “I was fuckin’ talking to ya.” He told you, the smell of his intoxicated breath making you gag.

He pulled you closer to the fire, dragging your body as you kicked and refused to allow him to take you to their spot. The other guys had brutish smiles on their faces, finding the situation as a pleasant form of entertainment for them.

One of the men snatched your bag off your shoulders, tossing it near the bonfire as a couple dug through your possessions. “Let me fucking go!” You shouted, arms and legs kicking out at anyone who got close. Your sudden movements caused the guys grip on you to slip, your feet finally planting firmly on the ground.

You twisted out of the guys hold, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. And, out of a flurry of emotions, you raised your dominant arm, reeling it back before your fist connected with his nose. Hard.

A sharp crunch came from the man’s nose, and something warm and wet coated your knuckles as you pulled your fist back. The man let out a pained groan, his hands cupping his nose as blood dripped from between his fingers.

“God! Fuckin’! Dammit!” He shouted, words coming out choppy and rushed as he struggled to breath properly through his nostrils. “Look what you fucking did, you bitch!”

You bit your toungue, fighting off a smug smile. Now is really not the time to play around with these guys, but, you knew it felt good to punch him. The tiny bag of dicks deserved it. “I can see.” You told him taking a small step back from the supposed leader of the group. “And it looks like a shitty nose job, if you ask me.”

“You broke my fucking nose!” He was beyond pissed, anyone with an eye could see that. He pointed a finger at you, blood dripping from the tip. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

God, this guy has a nasty mouth on him. He gets punched one time and it’s all fucking this and fucking that. His mama needs to teach himself some manners.

You opened you mouth to tell him, ready to snatch your bag back and take off towards grandpas, when a reflective object caught your eye. Glancing over at the man’s hand you saw a knife clutched tightly in his right hand, his fist slightly shaking for how hard his grip was.

Holy shit.

He really is gonna kill you.

Turning swiftly on your foot, you tried to manuver out of the outstretched hands grabbing at you. Sprinting on the sand, you felt as the tiny rocks slowed you down. Everytime you pushed off, your foot slowly sank down into the beach’s bay.

Holy shit.

A hand gripped your hair, tight. Your scalp burning as you get yanked back and thrown down on the ground. A yelp slipped past your lips when your upper body hits the floor, the air vacating your lungs.

You tried to lift your body up, tried to run, tried to scream for help. But, there were suddenly hands everywhere, holding you down on your back, arms and legs pinned down as the man you’d punched leaned over you.

“You know,” he started, twisting his knife in his palm. “It’d be a real shame for me to fuck up your face, because, well, you sure do got a pretty one.” He trailed his hand over your face, blood trailing behind as he did so.

“Burn in fucking hell!” You shouted, putting as much strength as you could muster to try and shove off the ones holding you down.

A nasty sneer rested on his lips, “But such a shitty attitude, maybe I’ll cut off your tongue, you know, keep you quiet for once.”

The guy pinning down your left arm looked up at the man, slight concern bubbling across his features. “Hughie, yer not actually gonna cut ‘er, right-“

“Shut the hell up!” Hughie shouted at the man, knife pointed dangerously close to his face. “Just shut up.”

He turned back towards you, the knife dropping down to his side as glared down at you. “I ain’t gonna cut the bitch.”

You felt air enter your body, feeling slightly better about the situation now knowing he isn’t actually gonna use the knife. But, you still didn’t know what he was gonna do with you.

“No, well just take her shitty bag, and I want just a little pay back for the nose.” Hughie brought his index and thumb close together.

You watched with wide eyes as he walked around you, stopping at the top of your head, kicking just a little bit of sand in your face as he did so. “Fucking slut.” He muttered, before he raised his leg and the heel of his boot came down hard on your face.

David sat on top of his motorcycle, the kickstand holding him steady as he puffed on his cigarette. The sun had set about an hour ago, the night fresh and just starting. They had plenty of time to scope out the crowd and find their next meal.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Paul and Marko sweet talking a group of ladies. They’d be nice for a snack, David thought. The sent of their blood flooding his senses, but, they’d need just a little more to actually fill them up.

Dwayne leaned against the wooden railing, keeping a steady eye on those who wander too close to him and his brothers. Anyone that catches his eye would immediately steer themselves in a different direction.

The smell of your blood drifted around the group, drawing Paul and Marko away from the group of girls and back over to their brothers. Your blood was a lot stronger than usual tonight, they noticed. It was more out in the open than what they’d usually smell around you.

Paul was the first to notice you, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, babe.” He drawled, watching as you came into view of the group. “Where you been lately?”

Though you didn’t stop to acknowledge them, in fact you seemed to walk faster to try and past them. It was slightly uncharacteristic of you, no snarky comment or a roll of your eyes. To say they missed it was an understatement.

One by one, they each stepped away from their bikes, sauntering over to your fleeting form. The smell of your blood grew stronger and stronger the closer they got to you, the reminder that they need to eat picking at the back of their minds.

Marko reached you first, gently pulling at your arm to catch your attention. “Hey, beautiful, where you been all week?” Though, you shrugged off his hand, barley giving him a glance as you tried to push through the crowd.

He furrowed his brows, slightly confused at your demeanor. The first time you’ve met you’d snapped at him for trying to take a silly vinyl, and now you wouldn’t even spare him a second of your attention.

Even when they’d see you out on the boardwalk, you’d always glance up at them, meeting at least one of their eyes before scurrying in a different direction.

He quickly glanced at the others, silently asking them what to do.

David brushed by his brother, understanding him without either having to open their mouths. He took long purposeful strides, the sounds of the others following right behind floated up to his ears. In no time, David was at your side. Gloved fingers wrapping around your forearm, as he spun you around to face them.

A witty comment danced on the edge of his tongue, the sudden impulse to hear a snarky remark fall from your lips egged him on. Though, what he sa made his thoughts stand still.

Bruises were found all around your face. A few rested along your jawline and cheekbones, but, the biggest of them all was the one on your right eye. The skin slightly puffed around the eyeball, making it hard to see clearly from that side.

A dark red was slowly but steadily seeping from your bottom lip, the sticky liquid had had found its way to the collar of your shirt. The fabric had caused the blood to spread across the top.

That explains the smell of blood.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. Your breaths became labored, short intakes and outtakes, eyes darting past the four men to your surroundings.

David placed both hands on your face, the feeling of his gloved fingers against your skin oddly calmed you. You placed your own hands against his wrist gently trying to tug them away, though, his grip didn’t seem to loosen.

“Let me go.” You said in a hoarse voice, the sound of it made an odd feeling stir in the pit of the boys stomachs.

You hadn’t even realized that the rest of the boys had surrounded the two of you. Each eyeing the small marks that littered across your face with hidden emotion.

Paul had reached forward grasping your hand in his, eyes trailing across the hills of your knuckles. A faint coat of blood was slowly drying itself up, blood that wasn’t your own. The blonde gently showed your hand to the others, discreetly eyeing each of them, a silent conversation threading itself through the air.

A weak sniffle sounded from you, mindlessly dragging their thoughts back to the fact that you were here right infront of them. “Can I please just go home?” You asked, voice wavering with emotion.

One by one they each gave a chorus of, ‘of course’ or just a simple nod. Paul released your hand, not before wiping a small trail of blood onto the pad of his finger. Keeping the scent with them as you left.

David pulled his hands away from your face, the cold touch lingering on your warm skin. They watched as you pushed through the crowd, hand gently pressing against someone’s lower back as you pass by them. An eerie tick crawled its way to the back of David’s mind, something unsettling and terrifying.

And it didn’t seem to mix well with the need to feed.

David glanced over at Dwayne, giving him a quick nod. The brunette mirrored his brother, neither having to open they’re mouth before he distantly trailed after you. Getting lost in the crowd just as you had.

Now just the three blondes were left in the boardwalk. Paul was softly bouncing on his feet unpatiently awaiting for David’s orders. Marko stood beside his brothers, fingers twitching at the sudden need to sink his fists and fangs into someone.

The faint smell of the assholes blood filtered through their noses, a soft trail leading through the crowds. Without glancing back at the terror twins, David signaled towards the bikes. The three of them straddles their own Motorcycles, Dwayne’s would just have to stay at the boardwalk until they get back.

They revved their engines, the loud noise drawing attention of nearby locals. Though, tonight, the people’s attention was the last thing that they were trying to capture.

“Boys,” David spoke over the rumble of the bikes. “Let’s eat.”

A/a/n: Ok, so, if anyone of confused by the ending, the boys went out to basically kill the surfer nazis. And, Dwayne went to make sure you got home safe before joining his brothers. Also, I felt like the ending was a bit rushed, because I haven’t posted in like a week or something. But, let me tell you that this chapter has been 90% done the whole time. I was just lazy to finish the other 10%. But, let me know what you guys think ;)

@mrstargayen09

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redstarwriting · 1 year

Text

the clash | vii. i wanna be sedated

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, you(?) hating hobie, anxious hobie, panic attacks, mentions of death, threat of main character death, giving blood, negative self-talk, ANGST

a/n: another short one, but that’s because it’s about to get intense. there’s a possibility the series may be ending within the next two chapters, but we shall see what happens! please enjoy this one, and i promise it won’t be all angst the rest of the time lmao there will be a pay off, next chapter should be LONG and give a smidge of happiness

previous chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

now reading: vii. i wanna be sedated

next chapter: viii. love you to death

───────────────────────────────────

Hobie stares at Miguel. He can see his lips moving, but he can’t hear what he’s saying. All he can hear is his heartbeat and the blood rushing to his head. Kill? This other version of him was meant to kill you. Does that mean he’s going to kill you now that he killed him? No. No that can’t happen. He won’t let it happen.

“HOBIE!”

Hobie realizes he’s gripping the desk in front of him. His eyes are wide, and his heart is beating faster than he has ever felt it beat before. He clenches and unclenches his jaw, swallowing nothing. His throat is dry. Miguel hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder. “Hobie, can you hear me?” He nods, staring ahead of him at his hands. “I think I might know what you’re thinking. You won’t kill them. You aren’t going to take the place of Hobart on their world,” he assures him, and Hobie tries to control his shaky breathing. “You have to calm down,” Miguel says in probably the gentlest voice Hobie has ever heard from him. He forgets he’s a dad sometimes. And that he also has gone through some shit. He nods again, trying to take in what Miguel just said. He accidentally snaps two pieces off the desk with how hard he’s gripping it. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “You were trainin’ ‘em to stop him.”

Miguel nods. “I was.”

“Does that mean I can still save ‘em?” Hobie looks at him, and Miguel sighs. “Maybe… but–”

“But what?” Hobie frantically asks, and Miguel frowns. “The Venom symbiote was supposed to take over as the Spider-Person for their world as Hobie Brown… if we defeat Venom…”

“Please don’t tell me…” Hobie whispers, and Miguel nods. “There is a 100% chance their world will collapse. It’s the final canon even in (Y/n)’s story.”

“No…” Hobie shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, there has to be a way! We can do somethin’!”

“Hobie…” Miguel starts, but Hobie turns his head towards him, suddenly angry. Ready to fight. “And you were just gonna let this bloody shit happen?! You care so fuckin’ much about the fuckin’ canon that–”

“HOBIE. No! I wasn’t going to let it happen. Why do you think I put so much time and effort into helping them?! I’ve been trying to fix it!” Miguel yells, “I know you might find it hard to believe but I’m not a fan of an evil symbiote taking over the world of someone I’ve been mentoring for the past month.” Hobie looks down again. “What if they just… stayed with me? In my world?” “Hobie, if their world disappears, they disappear,” Miguel explains and Hobie shakes his head. “No. Find out a way to make ‘em stay! You can do that! You have tech and all the shit to do it! We can save ‘em!” Hobie is screaming at this point, and Miguel stares at him for a moment. He sighs, rubbing his face, distressed. “There… might actually be a way,” he says. Hobie nearly falls to his knees. “How?”

“I’ve been developing something to change the genetic code of someone, making them appear like they belong in another universe. My thought process behind it is if Miles did it with the spider from Earth-42, we can do it here as well,” he explains, typing something into his computer. Hobie watches the screens. He reads everything happening in front of him, but it’s a little hard at this particular moment as it feels like everything is kind of crashing down around him. He is able to get some basic information on how Miguel would do this, though. “We’d just need somethin’ from my world, then?” he asks, and Miguel nods. “Yes… but unfortunately the process can be… painful.”

“How painful?” Hobie asks, and Miguel glances at him. “Are you willing to do anything to save them?”

“Yes!” Hobie says, and Miguel nods. “We tested it on inanimate objects until we were sure it would work, then we tested it on animals. And while it always turns out fine in the end… the process is difficult to watch. Their molecules will be rearranged and changed, tearing them apart and piecing them back together. Can you sit by and watch that happen to them?” Miguel asks, and Hobie gulps. “I can try…”

Miguel holds up a smaller device, showing it to Hobie. “What you do is you take anything from your universe, inanimate, and put it in here. I’ll also need a blood sample from you.” Hobie then notices that he’s still gripping the pieces of the desk in his hands. He opens his hands, and the remains of the desk fall out of them and onto the floor. Miguel hands the device over, and Hobie holds it, tossing it back and forth in his hands. “What do I do with this?” “I just told you,” Miguel says, glancing at him. Hobie stares at the little device in his hands. Right. He did just tell him. He hasn’t felt this scatterbrained in a long time. He takes off one of his pins from his vest, sticking it inside. It whirs and shuts tightly. Miguel takes it back from him and nods. “This should work perfectly. Now, I need some blood from you. We’ll perform a blood transfusion with the blood from your world to stabilize them as the genetic splicing takes place, luckily with the technology we have here on Earth-2099, the transfusion should take no longer than 3 minutes,” Miguel explains, as he begins walking toward his lab. Hobie follows him, quieter than he’s ever been in his entire life. Miguel glances back at him. “Are you okay to give some blood?”

“Yeah. Should be nothin’,” he mumbles and Miguel nods.

Miguel motions him to sit in a chair so he could get some blood from him. He sits. “You know, this is the first time you’ve done what I’ve said without fighting me on it,” Miguel says as machines start up, preparing Hobie’s arm for blood extraction. Hobie scoffs. “Come off it, mate,” he mumbles and Miguel shrugs. “I’m just saying.”

“I’m still Spider-Man. I can be responsible or whatever,” Hobie says as the machine takes some of his blood. “Mhm. Apparently, you can,” Miguel says, and he looks at him. “So, you like them, huh?”

“What?”

“(Y/n)? You actually ended up liking them?” Miguel asks again, and Hobie shrugs one shoulder slightly. “Guess so,” Hobie mumbles, and Miguel shakes his head. “The blood extraction should be done soon. How are you feeling?”

“Bloody brilliant,” he mumbles, and then sees Miguel’s face. “Buck up, bloke. I’m fine,” he answers and Miguel nods. “I’ll get everything ready. Bring them here, and we’ll figure out the rest. If it’s the worst case scenario, let me know. I’ll send back-up.”

Hobie stands, giving Miguel a nod, and walks out of the lab. The blood extraction did make him a little light-headed, but he doesn’t have the time to sit around and wait to feel better. He’s lost in his thoughts. He let his anger get the best of him, and in doing so, put you in danger. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to protect you and getting that asshole out of the way was the best way to do it. He thought it was the best way, at least. But it turns out that that asshole was him. And now you’re in even more danger than you were before. If that symbiote bonds with you… He doesn’t wanna think about it. Symbiotes can fuck up a host. He’s seen it happen. He doesn’t want you to have to go through any of that. And to top it all off, Miguel was saying how dangerous this symbiote is. Does that mean if it bonds with you, it’ll kill you? And is it like his symbiotes where noises drive it crazy? How did he fuck up this bad?

He's torn out of his thoughts by a familiar voice. “Hobie! Hey!” Gwen yells, landing next to him. “Alright?”

“I’m good. You should have seen it, Miles, Pav, and I took down Doc Ock after he escaped from prison, it was crazy. We could have used you and (Y/n),” she starts rambling off and he just listens. “Sounds great,” he mumbles, and she raises an eyebrow at him. “You okay? You seem a little… down.”

“’m fine,” he mumbles, and she doesn’t believe him, but she knows he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. Miles and Pavitr appear shortly after, talking to each other about how they did a move together that was ‘so cool!’ and how they need to show Hobie it as soon as they can. “Right, great talkin’ to you all, but I have to go visit (Y/n),” Hobie says, fiddling with his watch to open a portal to your world. “Oh, are you guys on speaking terms again? About damn time,” Miles says, and Pav leaps up and down with a little clap. “Have the two of you accepted your feelings for each other yet?” Pav asks, and Hobie just glances at him, not saying anything. Usually, he would tell him to piss off. But he’s not about to do that when he did realize his feelings for you. So he just stays quiet.

The three of them look at each other with wide eyes as Hobie steps through the portal and into your world without a word.

As soon as he’s back, the air feels a little… different. Maybe it’s just him coming to terms with what he’s done, though. He’s unsure how much time has passed since he left, but a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of your room tells him he’s been gone about three hours or so. He hears a soft meow and looks to see Shadow peeking out from behind a small crack between the wall and your fridge. “Hey, Shadow,” he says, crouching down and holding his hand out. Shadow cautiously approaches him, sniffing his fingers before walking into his hand. He pets him and looks around. “(Y/n)!” he calls your name but gets no response. Strange.

He hears another meow and looks down at Shadow who is staring at your balcony doors. The curtains have been pulled over them, but he can see that one is open from the wind blowing the curtain inside. He sees the silhouette of someone on your balcony, but if it was you, you would have been saying something to him by now.

He gets a bad feeling.

He slowly stands, and Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr end up coming through the portal. “Shh,” Hobie says, holding up his hand and pulling his mask over his face. The three of them glance at each other as they realize something is wrong, too. Hobie slowly walks toward your balcony doors, pushing the curtain out of the way and seeing your form facing out towards the city. You seem to be in your suit, as you’re shrouded in black from head to toe. But it looks like a new suit. Pav, Miles, and Gwen follow him, on edge the whole time. He stares at you for a moment, but you stay still.

“(Y/n)?” he says your name, and he sees your head tilt slightly, signifying you heard him. “Is that… you…?” he asks. You turn slowly. His eyes widen and his heart drops. He was too late. He sees a toothy grin spread across what was supposed to be your mask and clenches his fists as he hears Venom laugh. “(Y/n) can’t come to the phone right now,” Venom says, their otherworldly voice causing the four spiders to prepare for the worst. “But I would like to thank you, Hobie Brown, for freeing me of my constraints.”

Hobie has a flashback to his fight with himself. “The glass…” he mutters, and Venom lets out a laugh. He feels the world close in on him. His hands shake. He was too late. You were already taken over by Venom. As if reading his thoughts, Venom smiles at him, muttering the words that make his heart stop.

“You led me to them.”

───────────────────────────────

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pit-and-the-pen · 5 months

Text

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 1

A/ N:I’m horrible at exposition so bare with me through this one. It feels a little clunky to me but this sets up a lot for the rest of the series. This is also the longest thing I’ve written outside of my senior thesis so… I have this series fully planned out and now that I’m back from vacation I should be able to work on it a lot more.

Anyways, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for it!

Warnings: Spring court slander (implied trauma), nightmares. Drinking. I think that’s all but feel free to let me know if I should add anything!

Wc- ~10k

Previous part: here

Next chapter: Here

We’re coming home.

I ran up to my brother. Desperately pulling on Rhys’ arm and I felt him stumble back into me. He remained frozen, eyes locked on the female in front of him. Her and Rhys were clearly in the middle of a very intense conversation. But I wanted to go home. When I shouted Rhys’ name, his head flickered to me before looking back at Feyre. I saw his body tense, eyes going wide and it was instinct that had me grabbing his arm and winnowing us to Velaris.

The smell instantly calms me in a way I haven't felt in fifty years. Once my vision had fully focused,

“She’s my mate”, nothing above a whisper. My head snapped over to him. Mate. That explained his reaction. I felt the guilt in my stomach at pulling him away from Feyre. My arms are already reaching to pull Rhys towards me into a hug. As my arms wrapped around him, he sobbed into my shoulder.

This wasn’t the Rhys I had come to know under the mountain. Sob after sob left his mouth and his precious wings dropped to the ground. I knew this was more than the reaction of a male who had his mate taken from him. This was my brother who had to watch his mate be in love with someone else after years of suffering. The cauldron had finally granted him a mate only to have her ripped away from him.

“I’m sorry” was all I could think to say. So many reasons for being sorry. Sorry for all he went through. Sorry for not being strong enough to stop it. Sorry that the female the mother had chosen for him was in love with the High Lord of Spring, and had willingly died for him. Sorry that I stole away what little time he had spent with her.

Rhys let out another sob against my shoulder and it shook me to my core. I have heard him cry over Amarantha many times but seeing him break over Feyre was enough for me to want to march to spring and drag her to Velaris. But she wouldn’t want that. I know Rhys would have my head on a spike if I even offered.

We both turned around at the sound of the door opening. Mor stood in silence, eyes scanning over us. Noticing our embrace. She stepped up to us and a soft smile crossed her face.

“Tell me about your mate, Rhys.”

That was all it took for the flood gates to open. We did more than recall the details about the last few months. Rhys and I cherry picking only the most vital and important details. We kept a few things close to our chests. Those would stay our nightmares alone, Mor didn’t need to be haunted with our ghosts as well.

Mor sat patiently before she finally interrupted. “She’s really dead?” Rhy freezed at the mention of Amarantha. I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and answered for him. “Yes. But I don’t think this is over.” Mor just nodded sharply, looking at I both before she launched herself at both of I, arms coming up to wrap around my brother and myself.

“If either of you ever do something that stupid again, I’ll kill you myself.” Her voice didn’t hold any malice, instead it shook with tears. My heart jumped as I left the weight of her emotions wash over me. The pain in my chest tightened as I realized how much our absence has truly shaken our family. I knew, of course, but seeing it was entirely different.

The three of us began to settle and I finally had time to get my bearings in the house. As I let the glow of the house wrap around I. A familiar scent caught my attention, and my whole body sang. My head whipped around, looking for the source of that pine and night air, looking for Azriel. Cas too of course but Azriel was on the front of my mind.

Mor’s smile tilted slightly. “They should be back soon.” She sighed “They just went to the camps to check on all of them” She paused, stumbling over words “ when we got that message from you, someone thought the most important thing was letting the camp leaders know that they had a high lord to answer to again.” This didn’t surprise me at all. Of course they would want, need, to fill in the Illyrian warriors that were now back under Rhys command with his return, Cassian having to take over that helm by nature of his position. It would be a fight, but one for a different day.

I wanted nothing more than to see the rest of my family and responsibilities be damned. I wanted to see them now. It had already been almost 50 years and in theory another day wouldn’t hurt but the house felt empty without the loudness of Cassian’s voice booming. It felt cold without Azriel’s shadows stirring around.

As if Mor could sense my unease, she lightly grabbed my wrist and started pulling me deeper into the house. “I have so many books I need to show you.” That was all it took for me to laugh. Mind reeling as I tried to remember the last time I had truly laughed.

The library was just as I had remembered it. The smell of old parchment and leather filled the space. Fires kept the room warm and light and I wanted that feeling to sink down into my bones.

Mor gave me the space to just absorb my favorite room in the house. Rhys had given me full reign over how it was decorated. Comfy chairs that could accommodate wings and backless chairs tufted with fabric that looked like they were made of stardust were spread over the large room. The heavy wooden desk I had put in was covered in stacks of books.

“I put all the ones I knew you would like over there.” Mor spoke up when she saw my eyes lock on the countless books. I felt my throat tighten up with tears at the thought she must have put behind the seemingly small action. It wasn’t uncommon for Mor and I to swap books as we finished them. Mostly so we could sit and talk about them for hours together. Mor and I spent many nights on the couches I had put in, falling asleep with our respective books still clutched in our hands.

Looking at the stacks, a rough count told me there had to be over a hundred books, easily.

“Looks like I have some serious reading to do.” I laughed. She beamed a smile at me.

“Those are just the ones I knew you would like,” She walked over to one of the bookcases in front of the desk. “These are all the others that I need you to read so I can scream about them.”

Three whole shelves in total. It would take me gods know how long to get through them. I voiced that much. Mor waved me off.

“You have all the time in the world to read them. It doesn’t have to happen all at once, but I’m not letting anything happen to you again. You’ll have time to read them all.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. I turned to look at her and I saw the pink speckling her cheeks and right above her lips, the tell-tale signs that she was trying not to cry. I placed the book I had just picked up and threw my arms around her, squeezing her as tight as I possibly could. She nuzzled her head against my shoulder and all I could do was try to hold her tighter.

By the time we pulled away from the hug, we were both a crying, giggling mess. I forgot how much I loved spending time with Mor. Regardless of how much I cared for my brothers, Mor and I were two sides of the same coin. Plus the boys wouldn’t sit and discuss the pure filth that tended to grace the pages of the books I devoured.

“So, what one should I start with?”

She all but squealed as she started flipping through the piles with me. We organized as we went. Placing them in piles of order that I should read them in. A few of the series I had been following had new installments that would most likely require a reread so those got placed on the back burner for the, now older, favorites she was dying to talk about. From there we were able to pick out one of her more recent favorites that had me itching to crack open immediately. She picked out one from her own pile across the room and the both of us settled into silence, the only sound was the fireplace cracking and pages turning.

I don’t know how late it was when Rhys softly opened the door to sneak into the room. My eyes were starting to get dry from how little I was blinking, desperate to get through one more chapter before I called it a night. Something I had voiced to Mor about ten chapters ago. Mor who now was asleep on her own couch, her hair pooling over the edge almost touching the floor from the uncomfortable angel her head had fallen into.

“The books will still be here after you’ve gotten some sleep,” Rhys said in a gentle mocking tone. Mor stirred slightly at his voice but remained sleeping. “Come on, I’d be an awful High Lord, and an even worse brother, if I let you fall asleep in the library on your first night home.” I nodded at his words. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less where I slept but for some reason, I could tell it mattered to Rhys. It would honestly be more normal for me to fall asleep anywhere but my room. Whether it be in the library or the large sectional in the living room or the comfy chairs on the rooftop, I rarely ever slept in my own bed. Rhys had ensured that every surface of the house was as comfortable as possible to account for this but I didn’t push or argue with him as I untucked my legs from underneath me and stood up. I debated leaving Mor to sleep but didn’t want her to wake up all alone. Reaching out a hand, I placed it on her shoulder and gave her a small shake. She groaned but opened her eyes anyway.

“We’re being banished to our rooms.” I joked and pointed over the Rhys. She let out an even louder groan.

“Overprotective bat.” Even Rhys laughed at her words.

“Come on, before he carries us himself.” I held out a hand and I could see Mor contemplating just rolling back over and going back to sleep but she grabbed my hand. Pulling slightly, I helped her to her feet and she rolled her neck slowly. No doubt trying to work out whatever kink was starting to develop due to half of her head hanging off the thin couch. The three of us walked down the hallway to our rooms. Sleepily stumbling to doors. We reached Mor’s first and before she slipped in, she gave me another tiny hug and another to Rhys.

“I love you guys,” Sleep was evident in the way she almost drunkenly stumbled over her words. I returned the sentiment and she was slipping into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her.

Rhys and I stood outside her bedroom for a little longer, until we saw the light from under the door flicker out. Eventually, we continued walking until we got to my door. There was a slight pause as I turned the handle. Rhys and I would normally be curled up in my bed under the mountain by now. I vaguely thought about asking him to stay the night. Not that I think either of us were truly going to be able to sleep. As tired as I felt, I was afraid that if I closed my eyes for too long I was going to wake up and this was all going to be a cruel dream.

Rhys seemed to pick up on my hesitancy. “I can walk in with you. If you’re…”:

“Please.” I interrupted him. He gave me a soft smile and gestured for me to open the door.

Nothing was out of place. The room smelt like my favorite perfume and when I looked around, there was no dust to be found. Someone had spent the time still cleaning the room while I was gone. I don’t know why that touched me as much as it did but as I looked around I felt all the unshed tears finally starting to take its toll. A sob ripped its way from my chest and Rhys’ arms were around me in an instant.

He shushed me softly, rocking me slightly. “We made it. We’re free. We’re back home.” He repeated over and over until I had cried myself out. I pulled out of his embrace and wiped away the stray tears. Shaking my head at my outburst I muttered a thank you to my brother.

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be just across the hall if you need anything,” He says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nodded and he gave me a sad smile as he walked out of the room.

I wandered over to my dresser, fished around until I pulled out the first pair of pajamas I came across. I hastily pulled my clothes off and as I went to pull the nightgown over my head, I realized the layer of grim that was clinging to my skin. A bath was definitely needed before I climbed into my warm bed.

The tub was already full and scalding hot by the time I had finished pouring in an obscene amount of oils and bath salts. Sinking in, I sighed out in relief as the heat enveloped me. Muscles in my neck and back released as I leaned my head against the edge of the tub. I picked up the sponge on the edge and started to wash myself off. After countless minutes of scrubbing, despite my raw skin I still didn’t feel clean. Huffing, I threw the sponge across the bathroom and pulled my knees up to my chest. I just sat curled up around myself until the water started to cool down. And it was still another handful of minutes before I could manage to pull myself upright and step out of the bath. I shivered at the temperature difference. Hugging my towel closer to my body, I quickly ran bacon into my room and threw the nightgown over my head. I burrowed underneath my comforter and tried to close my eyes.

I tossed and turned until I started pleading with the mother, the cauldron, anyone that would listen to let me go to sleep. I was bone tired but everytime I closed my eyes something made me snap them open a few moments later. Every creek of the house had my ears prickling. Has the house always been this loud? I wondered how I never noticed it before. How I ever slept with all the noise. It was then I remembered that, if my room truly haven't been messed with since I had left, that I still had a sleeping tonic from when I had cracked a few ribs. Fae healing or not, ribs always were a pain to heal. Majda had given me a tonic to make me sleep so I could actually heal without Cassian making me laugh them out of place. I flung myself out of bed and padded over to my vanity. The small bottle of purple liquid still sat , half drank/ Uncorking it, I prayed that sleeping potions didn’t go bad and took a tentative sip. Fighting back a gag at the foul taste, I put the cork back on the top and walked back to my bed. The medicine had its desired effect. Not a minute later I felt my eyelids flutter close and this time they stayed closed until I could sense the sun high in the air signaling the next day had come.

Knocking on my door made me finally crawl out of bed. Goraning at having to leave the warmth, I flung open the door and was staring a slightly startled Rhys in the face. He held a small tray in front of him, stacked high with various foods.

“I didn’t want to wake you up. You slept through breakfast and lunch and I didn’t know what you would want so I brought a little of everything.” He spoke the words so fast that in my half awake state I struggled to keep up with them. I gestured for him to come in so he could place the tray on my bed.

“Have you eaten?” I raised an eyebrow at him as I picked up a large strawberry.. His look told me that he had, in fact, not eaten. I pointed to my bed. “Sit and eat.” I barked, mouth full of strawberries. He laughed at some silent joke and picked up a piece of toast covered in some fruit jam. We were quiet as we ate, picking apart the platter he had brought in. Truly too much for one person to eat. Once we were both full, I wiped off my hands on my comforter and finished swallowing my last bite before I asked Rhys. “What do you have on the agenda for today?” He stilled and picked at a piece of lint on his sweater.

“Not a lot. I’m trying to organize a meeting with the High Lords of the other courts to just debrief after everything.” He shrugged like that wasn’t going to be the hardest meeting to organize. “There are some young high lords and with all the aftermath of this…We just need to all talk this out.” I nodded along with him. The courts would need some time to bounce back after this but from the way things had seemed under the mountain, we didn’t have that time. As much as I prayed to be wrong about this, war was on the horizon and we would need to have the courts functioning as much as possible if we were going to stand a chance against Hyberns forces. Amarantha was just a taste of the power that he had, an experiment of sorts.

Mor knocked on the open door before she walked in and plopped down next to Rhys. She took note of our stern faces but didn’t say anything. Instead, she swiped one of the sandwiches off of the tray and shoved half of it in her mouth in one bite. “You, me, library.” Was all she said before she turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

“Well I know what you’re doing for the rest of the day.” Rhys laughed as I started to scramble to get dressed. I was about to start changing when I noticed he hadn't moved from his perch on my bed. “Get out!” I scratched at him and all but pushed him out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. His laugh echoed off the empty halls outside my door.

In record time, I was running down the halls to the library. Mor was already sitting, her book curled against her chest. She didn’t look up from her book as she pointed to the one I had abandoned last night. “Butt in chair, book in hand.” She said and I laughed at her tone. I walked over to my couch and picked up the book, the spine slightly cracked from laying face down most of the day.

I must have finally gotten to the juicy part of the book because I felt Mor Peering over the edge of her own book. My poker face was completely gone as I sunk in every word. “No. Absolutely not!” I screamed, rereading the last few pages to make sure I was seeing it correctly.

“Did you finally get to..” I held up my hand to shush her. She laughed and threw one of the throw pillows at my head. I only put my book down long enough to catch the pillow, using it to now prop up my arms. Once I had confirmed I had not actually gone crazy, Mor and I started discussing the plot twist that had been the source of my outburst. She accidentally let a detail slip that had me scrambling back for the book, desperate to catch up to the point she had been talking about. This went on for hours until I saw her perk up. She turned to face me.

“They’re back.” Was all Mor said, still flipping through the book perched on her knees. I didn’t say anything else before I put my own book to the side and all but ran from the room. Her laugh bouncing off the walls behind me.

I could smell him before I saw him. That deep cedar and cold rain smell that I could wrap myself in. Rhys tried to say something to him but stopped when he realized he no longer held his audience's full attention. Azriel’s shadows ripping across the room and curling around my feet like a small cat. I could have purred at the feeling, tears started to peek along the corners of my eyes at the familiar feeling.

When I felt movement next to me, I felt momentary disappointment at the fact that Azriel was not standing in front of me. Strong arms wrapped around my middle and started to swing me in a circle, I felt joy so strong it almost hurt. Cassian sat me back down on my feet and when he went to speak, I wrapped my arms around him in return. We stood embracing each other, slowly rocking from foot to foot.

“Missed you, Princess.” He muttered into my head. I just nodded, my cheek too squished against his chest to say anything. “I think Mor was going to kill us if she had to be the only girl living in the house. Amren can only handle so much damage control and the coward spent most nights at her apartment.” He nudged my shoulder as he spoke, pulling a laugh from me. It felt good to laugh again. My cheeks hurt in the perfect way at the smile that stretched over my face.

A throat being cleared from across the room pulled my attention from Cassian. I could have melted into a puddle right then and there. Azriel stood in front of me, a true smile gracing his face. I squealed and rushed over into his arms. He didn’t swing me around like Cassian did, but he held me just as tight. It would have felt so right to crash my lips against his and he released me from his arms, but that wasn’t my relationship with Azriel. Those thoughts were nothing more than what I needed to make it through the events of the last fifty years. Azriel looked at me like I was a sister, nothing more. Rhys’ little sister on top of that. His high lord's little sister. He was the one who had coined my nickname centuries ago. When the trio first formed their own little band of brothers. I had gotten pulled in by proximity, Azriel said it one day and it had stuck ever since. “Hi Princess.” He said, tone polite but I could hear the joy behind them. I tried not to blush as I heard his voice. Shaking the things I had imagined that voice saying to me out of my head out, I mustered up a pathetic, “Hi, Az.”

It had never felt this awkward around him. Cursing myself mentally for thinking of all the things I would say to him when I finally saw him again. None of those words made their way out of me as the two of us stared at each other. “I’m glad you’re home.” Was all he said his words short but I felt the sincerity leaking from them. Biting down the flutter in my heart, I gave a short nod and wrapped my arms around myself. His eyes tracked the movement but didn’t say anything.

Cass clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, breaking the tension that I felt take over the room. “We’ll see you at training tomorrow,” I raised an eyebrow to him. “Don’t give me that look, I’m guessing you didn’t have time to… while you were gone. I can’t have my sister not able to defend herself. We would be the laughing stock of Pyrthian.” He smiled as I made a big show of rolling my eyes .

So I joined them for training the next morning. And the next. Cassian slowly ran through the basics until I was nothing more than a mile of sore bones and sweat by the end of our sessions. I would shower and hang out with Mor. Rhys was suddenly very busy as he tried to catch up on all the events he missed in his court over the last fifty years. He made more and more trips to Hewn City, leaving Mor free to run around with me. Before I knew it a month had passed and all of us were sitting around the table for one of our family dinners.

Jokes were flung around the table and no one noticed the way Rhys and I sat back, sinking it all in. More than once I caught his eyes from across the table and all we could do was smile at each other. Is it bad to say that I missed this? I spoke into his head as Mor and Cassian had started raising their voices at each other, getting into a slight argument over some random events of the day. I did too. Even when we both flinched at the volume Cassian’s voice had risen too. Even Azriel had started to chime in before Mor shot him down with a withering look. I laughed despite myself at his expression. I shut up when that look was turned to me.

The conversation fell into a natural lull and everyone was happily eating. Rhys hissed at something, shaking his arm that bore the bargain mark. Something must have prickled down the weird connection.

“I still can’t believe you let her go with Tamlin.” Cassian said, stabbing something on his plate with a little more force than necessary. Rhys bared his teeth at his brother.

“I didn't have much of a choice, now did I?” He slumped back into his chair, still rubbing his hand. “She already hated me because of this stupid bargain but if I had stolen away from the male she was willing to die for…”

“But Rhys. It’s Tamlin. No one would have slighted you, not after…” Cassian’s gaze flickered to me. As hard as I was trying to tune out the conversation, I still felt my chest tighten at their words. Rhys would have never taken Feyre without her permission, well at least outside of the bargain but we both knew that was simply a means to an end. Regardless of how much it must hurt to have another person he cared about over in spring, Rhys wouldn’t take that choice away from her, no matter how concerned he might be for her safety.

“How was it seeing the brute again?” Amren asked and the table silenced. I froze and kept my gaze locked down at my plate. Suddenly losing my appetite completely.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I itched at my wrist, tugging at the fabric that felt too tight around my wrist. Azriel placed a comforting hand over mine. I flashed him a thankful smile.

“You haven’t wanted to talk about it for over a century.” She prodded.

“And she shouldn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” She took a breath like she was about to press the issue. “Why does it matter to you anyways?” Azriel hissed at her. Amren had the decency to take a hint and held up her hands in surrender, a smirk plastered on her face.

We all sat in silence for the rest of dinner. Even Cassian knew better than to make any comments due to the tension in the air. Everytime he would go to say something, Rhys would shoot daggers at him. Eventually I got sick of it and threw my napkin down.

“Fine. You want to know what it felt like?” I shouted at Amren. Everyone flinched. “I am terrified for that girl. Because I know what loving Tamlin does to someone. Seeing him felt just like you whenever someone mentions the prison.” She paled at my words and I didn’t spare her another look as I pushed away from the table, storming out. I know I would regret my words later but sometimes Amren needed a taste of her own medicine. She just loved to push everyone buttons because we were all too scared to really piss her off.

I flung myself into my bed, still fully dressed. I groaned into my pillow. Apologies could wait until tomorrow. A knock from the door had me fighting back swears. Stomping over to the door, I ripped it open and a very startled Rhys was standing in the hallway, hand raised like he was about to knock again.

“I wanted to check on you.” The high lord said.

“I’m fine” I gritted out and he raised an eyebrow at me. I let out a heavy sigh.

“I know I shouldn’t have taken the bait but I don’t want to talk about him, right now or ever, if I can avoid it.” Rhys’ eyes held sympathy and he just contuined standing in the hallway, letting me rant. “I mean it’s been so long. I didn’t want to talk about it then. No one’s asking how you feel about Tamlin.” I paused and Rhys just shrugged.

“If she’s happy with him, then it’s not my place to try to save her. If she wants to come here, then I’ll happily let her do that too.”

I stared at him like he had gone crazy. “What about the bargain?” He shrugged again

“It was necessary at the time. I don’t actually plan on cashing in on it. She’d only hate me. More.” I could feel his despair. The self loathing held behind those words.

“Rhys.” He shook his head.

“I’ll never take away her choice in this. Just because she’s my mate doesn’t mean I have a claim to her. Regardless of every nerve in my body screaming otherwise. It’s her life. She’s given more than enough to deserve whatever, whoever, makes her happy.” I went to hug him and he stepped out of my reach. “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t need your sympathy for making the right decision.” He tried to play it off as a joke but I knew he truly meant it.

“Well if you ever want to talk about it…”

“Like how you want to talk about Tamlin.” He cut me off. My mouth set into a thin line and I took that as a dismissal of the conversation. Fine. I just wanted to crawl into bed anyway.

“Well now that we’ve established that. Anything else you want to say, oh mighty High Lord.”

“No.”

“Good. Good night.” I said and swiftly shut the door in his face. I love my brother but he really knows how to get under my skin sometimes. I know deep down I’m mad because he called me out. I can’t expect him to pour his heart out to me when I won’t do the same thing.

I threw the covered back and crawled in, still fully dressed. Mind reeling. I wouldn’t even know where to start with talking to anyone about Tamlin. And what good would it do? All of that was in the past and talking about it would only piss everyone off all over again. We had just barely avoided attacking the spring court when I came home. I don’t want to drag Feyre into this now that she’s there.

I managed to finally fall asleep, tossing and turning. Dreams filled with deep swirling greens and the sound of growls.

When I woke up in the morning I could tell it was later than normal. The sun is slightly higher in the air. Snapping out of my sleepy haze I cursed as I jumped out of bed. I was late for training and Cassian wasn’t going to let me forget that.

Throwing on my clothes, mentally screaming at all the buckles on my training leathers. I knew not eating was going to come back to bite me in the ass but I simply didn’t have time as I sprinted through the house. In my haste, I passed a grinning Rhys. The events from last night seemingly forgiven as he taunted me.

“Maybe he’ll consider this your warm up today.” I held up a crude gesture and he only laughed harder.

I made it to the training rink in record time. My hands were on my knees as I panted. The stitch in my side was already screaming at me but I forced myself to stand up straight as Cassian sauntered over to me. The split in his lip told me Him and Azriel had gotten started without me.

“You’re late, princess.” I flinched at his tone. He surveyed me. “I think double drills should be enough to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I cursed, I couldn’t get through the routine once without limping back to the house. Two would kill me and he knew it.

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” He held out his hand “Consider this it.” He stepped away from me, going back over to Azriel. I know Cassian wasn’t actually mad at me. He also knew that if he went easy on me, I wouldn’t take training seriously. I appreciated the routine of it all and I really did need it. So sighing I got started.

I was halfway through my second set when Cas called me over.

“Lesson learned?” He simply asked. I nodded. Still trying to take in breath. My muscles are screaming at me for still being vertical.

“Good because Cas and I decided it’s finally time to step this up a notch. You’re almost the same as you were before. Now it’s time to get your powers involved. Relearn how to fight with those.” Azriel spoke. My stomach sank. This was something I hadn't considered. It was a stupid oversight on my part and I didn’t know how to get myself out of this so I responded with the truth.

“I don’t have my powers.”

“Okay, nice joke” Cassian cut in.

“I’m not joking. I can’t use them anymore.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I can’t use my powers” I grumble. “They’re still in there but it’s like I’m fighting against a wall.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at that revelation.

“How do you know?”

“I don’t know but all I know is I tried to use them… you know… And they wouldn’t come. Everyone had theirs back so I know it wasn’t the curse. So for whatever reason I couldn’t make them work.” It was embarrassing to admit. My powers had been the only truly useful thing I could rely on in the training ring.

“Have you tried since then?” I nodded. Not so much of a glimmer of them since I came home. I told Cassian that much and he swore under his breath.

“We could always take you to see Helion.” I shook my head at his words.

“I don’t want to burden him with more problems. He has enough to do in his own court. I’ll figure it out, but for now I’ll just have to fight the old fashioned way.”

Neither of the males in front of me seemed to be happy with my response but Cassian jumped right back in.

“Fine. But that means that you have a lot more training to do. If you had your powers you would be fine. But in just plain hand to hand combat, you’d get your ass kicked by anyone with any skill.”

I glared at him but I knew he was telling the truth. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him into the center of the ring and tossed him one of the training swords. Heavy but they wouldn’t do nearly as much damage when he hit me.

“Do your worst then.” Was all I said before he charged at me.

“You’re sloppy.” Cassian barked as he knocked the sword out of hand again, again. I held my wrist as it twisted at a weird angel. My cheeks heated with anger and I went to wipe the sweat that had formed on my brow with my other, only to find it just as damp. I recoiled in disgust and Cassian laughed again.

“You try getting your shit kicked in for fifty years and see how you bounce back.” I spoke and I saw his face pale. Shit. “Joking Cas, it��s okay.”

I shook my head. “I am sloppy. And that’s why I’m still training with your annoying ass. You’ll have me back in tip top shape.” He relaxed slightly, but his shoulders still wouldn’t lower.

I sighed and did the only thing I could think of as he turned away from me. I jumped onto his back, being mindful of his wings and pulled him down to the ground. The air left his lungs in a whoosh as I took us both onto our sides, I quickly bounded to my feet, ignoring the sting in my side from the impact.

“Come on you big Illyrian baby.” I raised my arms slightly in front of me and a flicker of something crossed Cassian's face and I saw him make the decision to play along. To pretend that this was just a normal day of training. He leapt to his feet with a surprising amount of grace.

“If you want a fight, you got it princess” He said with a smirk. We both stood in the middle of the training ring, circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Swords forgotten off to the side. I saw the slight twitch of his left side and I made the choice to ignore the fake out, and went to block my right side. It was the right choice, the blow aimed toward my right side bounded off my forearm, it still stung but at least it didn’t put me on my ass like it would have had it made contact. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm back, pulling him closer towards me and pushing on his back. He only stumbled for a second before he regained his footing. That kick had put me off balance more than I anticipated and it was easy for Cassian to grab the leg that lowered too slowly, grabbing my ankle and yanking me to my stomach. I yelped at the contact. He laughed loudly as I held my hand up in surrender. I rolled over onto my back with a groan.

“Give me a few days back in training and I’ll have you on your ass, General.” He laughed even harder.

“In case you forgot, princess, you could barely do that even on your best days. Give yourself more time.”

“A week.” I responded with my own laugh. Whatever I had done, it worked. Cassian’s shoulders had fully relaxed and I noticed the smile gracing his face finally reached his eyes. I noticed Azriel starting a few feet away. I sat back on my elbows, propping myself up. “Want a round, Az?” I teased and was rewarded by him rolling those big hazel eyes.

“I think you’ve hurt yourself enough for today.” Was all he said before he turned to stalk away from the ring. I laid back down in the dirt of the ring at his retreating figure, sighing heavily. Cas comes to stand over me, offering me a hand up. I grab it, pulling myself up.

“Give him some more time to come around. This was harder for him than the rest of us.” He was suddenly serious. “He’ll get there, but you know him. Broody as they come.” He nudged me with his wing and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the gesture. I nodded in understanding and the pair of us walked back up to the house.

This was harder for him than the rest of us. The words bounced around my head for the rest of the day. It makes sense. Azriel would have seen this as him failing. Not only failing me but his High Lord. Regardless of how hard everyone must have tried to comfort him, he would always blame himself, and only himself, for Rhys and I going under the mountain.

It also explained why Azriel seemed to be avoiding me. Besides that first awkward meeting, he always managed to find an excuse to not be in the same room as me if he could avoid it. I’ve been home for almost a month now and I had hardly seen him. The few times I ran into him in the hall, he would quickly and politely brush me. Not saying anymore than a few words in greeting or response to a question I might have asked him. Be patient. I could do that. But it was hard to ignore the sting in my chest every time he brushed me off. We were practically joined at the hip before I left. I fit seamlessly into the fold of the trio but now Azriel felt like a stranger again.

My mind was too full of thoughts to begin to try to settle down, so after I bathed the dirt and sweat off, I changed into a loose nightgown that almost went to the ground and padded off for the library. When I got to the door, it was slightly cracked, light from the fireplace filling even the hallway with its warmth. It was like the room itself was calling to me and as I stepped in. Above the crackle of the fire, I made out the sound of pages turning, of fabric rustling as someone shifted on one of the couches in the room. I searched for the source of the sound and found none other than Azriel lounging with a book propped open on his lap. He didn’t seem to notice me until one of his shadows snuck off his lap and slithered over to my feet, wrapping around them like they always did.

He closed his book and glanced over to where I stood in the doorway. Something flashed across his eyes that I couldn’t decipher before it faded away. He cleared his throat and said a generic greeting. My heart sank as I saw him mark the page he was on in his book, and place it on the end table to his right. I tried not to pout as I said. “Don’t leave on my account.” I said, keeping my tone light to hide the oily feeling pooling in my stomach. The shadow at my feet seemed to curl in tighter to me as Azriel went to stand.

“I was just finishing up anyways.” He couldn’t seem to meet my eyes. “The rooms all yours.”

“Azriel…” I don’t know what I was going to stay. Maybe beg him to stay with me, maybe start shouting at him but I know none of that would help, would only make both of us feel worse. Be patient with him. So I bit back all the words I wanted to say to him and simply said. “Good night.” He called to me as he headed out of the room, his shoulder just barely brushing mine as he passed by me. The room suddenly felt too cold so I willed the house to put the fire out and walked out, heading back to my own room suddenly feeling very tired.

I crawled under my covers and tried to push the thought of Azriel’s eyes out of my mind as I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

I sensed it. I was back under the mountain. Nonono. This can’t be happening but I saw it all out in front of me. Rhys was in front of me, standing on the dais with Amarantha standing next to him. I almost broke down, knees buckling, when I saw that all-too-familiar mask of indifference grace my brother's face. I tried to call out but my voice wouldn’t come out, feet locked in place as I stood and helplessly watched as the red haired female reached a finger under Rhys chin. Bile raised in my throat as I saw her whisper something to him, something I couldn’t make out. When I tried to reach out for his mind, I was met with nothing more than those iron thick walls he built up. Amarantha’s eyes locked on mine and it was like she set me on fire. My skin burned, the string of her breaking my bones, of the attors smacking me down everytime I said something out of place. Finally I seemed to find my voice, but only a scream ripped from my throat at the phantom pain. Her red lips curled into a cold smile. “Welcome back pet.” another scream made its way from my throat.

I flung myself into a sitting position, jolting awake from the nightmare. My lungs ached as I gulped down air. My skin still burned and I threw off my blanket, pulling my knees to my chest. I almost screamed again as I realized the presence of something, someone, in my room.

Azriel’s soft voice said my name. “I heard you scream, I thought…” My eyes finally adjusted and I could make out his frame. “I’m sorry. I'll go.”

“No.” I rasped, throat raw. I must have actually been screaming. That explains his presence in my room, kind of. My hand went up to my neck attempting to rub away the pain in my chest. The pain didn't stop the request that bubbled over my lips. “Please. Stay.” I saw him go still, turning back around to me. Even in the dark, I was able to find his eyes, wide open as they locked on mine. Tears welled up in my eyes and I tried not to sniffle.

He whispered my name again. “Just go back to sleep.” He was starting to turn around again. My body reacted faster than my mind, I reached over the large bed, reached for his arm. “Please.” It was all I could get out. Please stay. Please talk to me. Please can we pretend that all of this didn’t happen and please be my best friend again. So many things tied into that one word. It’s almost like he sensed it and he sighed, relaxing into my touch.

“Only until you fall back asleep.” He sounded exhausted and his tone made me feel heavy all over again. He still shuffled in behind me. I tried not to think about the fact that when I went to tuck myself into his chest that I was met with bare skin. Resisted the urge to trail my hand down along those perfect abs, to the deep vee that I knew laid beneath them. I just buried myself deeper into his side and I felt his wings wrap around me, shielding me from the world around us as I drifted back to sleep. The smell of cedar lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

I woke up feeling more rested than I had since I’ve been back home. I knew he wouldn’t still be here but my hand still reached out to the side of the bed he’d been in, still warm. He had stayed. That explains why I slept so well. His scent lingered in the room and not caring how desperate it might have seemed, I buried my face into the pillow he had been laying on. I let his scent surround me and calm me down. A knock on the door had me groaning but sitting up anyways.

‘You didn’t come to breakfast so I wanted to check on you…” More said as she opened the door, she looked around as she spoke and her face fell slightly before continuing. “I had Nuala make you a tray in case you were hungry when you woke up.” She held a small wooden tray in her hand and I beamed at her, touched by the small gesture from my cousin.

“Thank you.” Was all I could get out, tears threatening to fall at the kindness in her action.

“I heard you last night.” She spoke quietly as she walked to the edge of my bed, sitting down at my feet. “I know I wasn’t there, but if you ever need to talk, or just someone to listen to. I’ll always be here.”

“You don’t need that stuff in your head too. It’s bad enough it's mine.”

She said my name in a concerned tone and I waved her off. “Don’t we have some books you need me to finish?” I said, deflect. She sighed sensing she wouldn’t win this one.

“Maybe we should take a break from the library today.” My face dropped as I thought of what I could possibly do with my day if it wasn’t reading with Mor. “I need to go shopping for some stuff, start looking around for Solstice presents and I haven't had a proper shopping buddy…” She trailed off, giving me a full megawatt smile.

“Alright let's go, before you start batting your eyelashes at me.” I playfully rutted her in the ribs and she threw her arm over my shoulder.

I haven't gone out to the shops in Velaris since I’d been back home. A part of me had forgotten how beautiful my home truly was. I tried not to stare in awe at the new vendors, the smell of food lingering in the air. People walked to and fro, running errands for the day. Mor and I had found one of my favorite dress shops and all but pulled me into the shop.

The designer was known for her slightly scandalous fashion. Floor length gowns with cut outs that left little to the imagination but were still heartbreakingly gorgeous. By the time Mor and I left, our arms were full of bags and I still had a few more dresses to pick up that needed to be altered.

We flitted in and out of more stores until the sun was starting to sink behind the horizon. When I noticed where we were I almost suggested we stopped by Rita’s but my shoulders were starting to hurt from the weight of the bags and Mor wouldn’t be able to winnow us into the house if we did have a few drinks nor did I even want to think of carrying them back.

So when we finally checked out from the last store, Mor having purchased a honestly hideous printed shirt for Cassian, we joined arms and started the walk back to the townhouse.

After dropping off all of my new things in my room, I knew I had to go apologize to Rhys. Armen could wait, if I ever bothered to say sorry to her. She wouldn’t hold it against me either way. Our relationship was more antagonist than anything else anyways. So I put the clothes into my closet and padded off to find Rhys.

Eventually I found him in his study. He didn’t look up as I closed the door behind me. I called his name. Still nothing. So I walked over to his desk. I noticed he was clutching a letter in his hand, holding it so tightly that it was starting to crinkle. I went beside him and soothed the letter out of his hand. My face paled as I read carefully over the words.

Feyre was marrying Tamlin.

The letter wasn’t an invitation. Just a simple announcement that would be extended to all high lords when one of them married. I dropped the piece of paper like it had burned me. I grasped for the right words to say to my brother, but when he looked up at me they all faded away. Agony I had never quite seen in them before knocked the breath from my lungs.

“I know I have no reason to be upset. I should just be happy that she’s happy. But I can’t find it in me.” He stared at the tattoo on his hand. “I’ll never see her again. Not after she marries him. I might get glimpses at balls but I’ll never really be able to see her.” Never be able to see her because we both know how Tamlin treats the people he loves. The gilded cage Feyre will be locked in the moment she says “I do”. I gave myself a moment to mourn for the girl. But I know there was nothing either of us could do in this situation. So I did the only thing I could think of. I strolled over to the bar cart in the corner of the room and poured both of us a few fingers of whiskey. He eyed it carefully as I passed him the glass. He took it out of my hands and knocked it back in one fluid motion. I did the same with mine. Holding out the glass for more, I poured him another. We just sat drinking until the familiar flush started to creep onto my face. Rhys hasn't said much, neither of us have. Content with drinking away the pit in both of our stomachs.

“I love her.” He said after he finished his third glass. He didn’t sound. In fact this was the most sober I think I had ever heard him

“I think I’ve loved her since I first saw her in the spring court. But I know I loved her when she offered herself in place of Tamlin. This brave human offering to save our entire world, who before that moment would have let her tear her to shreds.” He grimaced, as if the very thought disgusted him.

“So tell her.” I said with a shrug. He glared at me.

“You know it’s not that easy.” I did know. But I wanted him to be happy. I didn’t want him to have to sit here and drown out his sorrow while Tamlin got to play hero. Tamlin, who sat around while my brother risked his neck time and time again to save Feyre. He slumped down into his chair and laughed at the ceiling.

“The mother can be a real bitch sometimes. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this good fortune.” His voice was bitter and truly didn’t know how to respond. I went to pour him another glass but he put a hand over his glass.

“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing. I think I need to go to sleep before I march into the Spring Court and drag her out. Regardless of if she’ll hate me or not.” His eyes soften as he looks at me. “You should head to bed soon too. I don’t need to look into your mind to know you’re going a million miles a minute right now.”

He wasn’t wrong. My thoughts had been roaring around in my head since I read that letter. It wasn’t hard to put myself back into Feyre’s shoes. My heart panged for this selfless girl. How long until the cracks in the foundation started show and she would be pulled into the storm that is Tamlin. I nodded in acknowledgement of his words. Putting the cork back onto the glass bottle. I rose from my chair, rolling my stiff shoulders. Rhys and I both returned to our respective rooms.

Hard as I tried, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned but couldn’t get comfortable. I had run out of the sleeping tonic a few nights before so I just accepted that sleep wasn’t going to come. I made no move to get out of bed though. I just curled my covers tighter over me. When the sun peeked through my curtain. I didn’t get up. I didn’t go to training. I didn’t even get up from my bed until mid afternoon, just going far enough to use the bathroom. Immediately crawling back into the warmth of my bed.

Someone had knocked on the door and I pretended to be asleep when I heard the door click open. I ignored the smell of cedar until I felt a shadow sweep across my bed, settling by my face. If it knew I was asleep, it didn’t respond to its master. But it also didn’t leave when my door softly shut. I just turned to face away from the ripple of blackness. Not wanting to deal with the comfort the small action granted me.

When I finally left my bedroom the next day, I learned Rhys had behaved similarly yesterday. The two of us floating around the house. We were bad enough that the others cleared out of whatever room we were in. I couldn’t find it in myself to really care enough to knock it off.

This continued for the remainder of the week leading up to the date of the wedding. I expected the same behavior as I woke up the morning of the big day. But when I walked into the kitchen, Rhys was sitting around the table with Cassian and Azriel, head thrown back in laughter. He turned his head to me as I walked in and smiled at me.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” I grunted at him. Walking to the fridge I pulled out a bowl of fruit and swiped a couple pieces of sliced strawberry. He hummed in response and Cassian spoke up.

“We’re going to the cabin later, if you want to come with us. We’ll need someone to help us finish all this booze.” He gestured to three large boxes that were occupying the floor of the kitchen. I raised an eyebrow to Rhys and he shook his head. Drop it. He spoke in my head. I shoved him out and when I looked back at him, he looked hurt.

“Boys, can I speak to my brother alone?” The two looked confused but stood up from the table regardless.

“You don’t approve?” Rhy asked plainly. I scoffed.

“They might not know what today is, but I do,” I snatched the unopened bottle from his hand. “If you want to drink yourself stupid, I won’t stop you but that doesn’t prevent all of this from happening.” He made a lunge for the bottle and I was somehow able to keep it out of his grasp. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

“What do you want me to say? That I would rather her marry anyone else than him? That I wish I was the one that she was happy to see. That I wished she would change her mind…” He trailed off. Eyes seemingly far away. Horror washed over his face.

“Rhys?” I spoke softly, wondering if I pushed him too hard.

“I have to go.” Was all he said and before I could catch him, he had winnowed away.

I had been on edge since Rhys disappeared with no sign of where he was going to. It hasn't been more than an hour but I was about to wear a hole through the rugs in the hallway with my pacing. Suddenly, I heard Rhys in my head. Grab Mor and meet me at the big house. I didn’t respond. Just went to find Mor, she must have received a similar message because when I got to her room she was already waiting for me. She didn;t ask any questions, merely grabbing my arm and winnowing us to the house we rarely ever used. When we arrived to the house I nearly gasped as I saw why Rhys had disappeared so suddenly. I just had time to make out a satin slipper as it was chucked with deadly precision right at Rhys’ head. She had barely launched the other one at him before she stormed off up the stairs. Rhys was all but growling as he stalked over to us. “That went well.” Mor snorted at him and this time Rhys actually growled at her before stalking over to his own room.

We didn't see or hear from Feyre for the rest of the night, the three of us eating in silence. I felt the tension rolling off of Rhys when Nuala and Cerridwen informed us that Feyre hadn't eaten the dinner they had left for her. My stomach sank and I avoided the stare from my brother. He had asked me to go check on her. Saying that I could offer her some company. I didn’t have it in me to talk to her yet. Didn’t want to make this day, this decision, about me. And I know going into that room I would see a younger version of myself I wasn’t ready to face.

The next day, Rhys had insisted on her joining us for breakfast. She came stomping down the stairs. “I’m not a dog.” She sneered at him before taking a tentative seat at the table.

She looked around and her eyes locked onto mine, recognition sparkling in them,

“I remember you. You were under the mountain. What are you doing here?” Her tone was surprisingly pleasant, a stark contrast from every word she had said to my brother.

I introduced myself. “I’m his sister.” She laughed at that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was hard to bite back my comment while I looked at her. It was like looking into an old memory, the dark circle around her eyes, the way the light had completely vanished behind them. She didn’t even look like this under the mountain. Tamlin had broken her completely. I’m sorry for you. I didn’t say that though, instead just responding with a simple.

“You get used to it.”

“I doubt that.” She snorted and started picking at the food in front of her.

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nanpecan · 8 days

Text

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊ pt 3

{nanami x f!reader}

pt 1. pt 2. pt 4.

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You’re a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and you've now had two extremely intimate encounters with grade 1 sorcerer Nanami Kento. You're doing your best to go back to work like nothing happened. You're attending meetings, running a few errands, and having a very very close call with a curse and an ancient relic.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, slight angst, gore kinda (you're fighting a curse and it gets intense fast)

˚₊✩‧₊word count: 6.8k (do i even have to apologize at this point)

˚₊✩‧₊author’s note: this chapter is a little more centered around Y/N as a character. Nanami IS in it but i feel like he isn't the focus so i apologize. but ! i've attached pt. 4 as well because that does have nanami and a fun little hook up hehe. I won't be offended if a lot of y'all skip this to get to the next part. I know i would

˚₊✩‧₊this is the mitski song i had in mind for this chapter idk

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You shut the car door and put your seat belt on wordlessly. “You okay? I’ve never seen you so quiet after drinking.” Akari said, breaking you out of your daze.

You looked at her and considered telling her everything. “Akari…” she looked at you with a questioning look. She smiled.

“You know, Nanami was asking questions about you while you were up singing with Ijichi.”

“What?”

“It was little things. Like he kept asking for clarity on things whenever we brought you up. I don’t know if you even noticed.”

“What kind of things?”

“Well he was asking how long you’ve been here. He seemed to know that you’d joined the school when you were 16, during Ijichi’s third year. But he wanted to know how you did.”

“What did you tell him?” you asked.

“Eh, I said something about how your classmates were assholes. But that doesn’t matter. He also asked about your relationship status.” She glanced at you with a cheeky smile. You gave her a blank stare. “Well, not directly, but Shoko asked about my dating life and I told them how we were both hopeless, and I may have mentioned that date you went on where the American called you exotic and tried to grab your ass.” She laughed as she remembered. “He smiled when I mentioned you kicked his ass.”

You smiled and she seemed happy that you were more relaxed. “I could just tell he was interested in you, and you know I’m good at reading people.”

“You’re too flattering.” You said. “I don’t think he’s interested in me like that.”

“You’d be surprised, maybe he feels connected with you after he saw your IBS crisis.” She laughed. “Too soon? I’m sorry.”

You smiled and shook your head. You felt a burning in your chest. “You don’t think he was talking so much because he was into you? He didn’t talk to me at all.”

Akari scoffed. “If he was into me I’d turn him down immediately.” She frowned. “If I didn’t know his age I would have thought he was in his late thirties, and I’m not into dudes that much older. You know I like them hot and stupid.”

“That hasn’t worked out so well for you in the past, maybe it’s time to change it up.”

Akari furrowed her brows. “Why are you pushing him on me, fight for your man, girl.”

You slumped back into your seat. “I’m telling you he doesn’t like me like that.”

She rolled her eyes. “And why are you so sure?”

“Because he told me so.” You muttered.

“What?” She suddenly got serious.

“...Can you keep a secret?”

“What happened? Y/N??” She looked over at you. “Hang on, we're almost at my place. I need to be all ears.”

“You can’t tell anyone, and you can’t judge me.”

“Wait! Don’t tell me anymore!”

Akari quickly parked the car and ran out. She practically pushed you all the way into her apartment and onto her couch. She quickly poured you another drink before pouring one for herself.

“Okay,” she handed you the cup. “I had a feeling something happened, you’ve been acting so weird.”

“You wanna take a guess?” You said before taking a drink.

She hesitated. “My gut was telling me that something happened with the curse he exorcised yesterday. And I thought that maybe it had gotten to you and you were overly flirty and confessed or something.”

“We had sex.”

She choked on her drink. “What!”

You buried your head in your hands and groaned. “The curse injured him and infected him with lust. I was just standing outside the barrier. I was checking my phone when he came stumbling out into the car, and well…things escalated and…yeah.”

Akari looked at you in shock. She put her drink down. “He didn’t report an injury. Was he in his right mind?”

You understood what she was implying. “He wasn’t violent. The opposite actually. I was surprised too, he wouldn’t let me tend to his wound.” You took another drink. “It was great.”

She still looked concerned. “But he told you he wasn’t into you.”

You frowned. “We didn’t really talk much afterwards. I think he was more embarrassed or maybe he regretted it… Anyway I ran into him at the bakery that I like and we talked for a bit there.” You sighed as you remembered. “I confessed that I liked him and he said he wasn’t interested in a relationship with me, so I said we should forget everything that happened.”

“I’m sorry.” Akari said. “What an asshole, I bet he said it just like that too. He’s so blunt. You didn’t deserve that.” She looked at you. “I’m sorry he showed up tonight. I can’t imagine how awkward that must have been for you. But I’m serious. He was asking little things about you. So maybe there’s hope?” She turned her head and scowled, “If it was me I wouldn’t want to see the bastard.”

You took a deep breath, you didn’t want to tell her about the bathroom. Not that it was wrong, you just wanted time to process everything. You frowned. You had just ruined his chances with her, you were painting him out to be a villain. “He was very sweet though. I understand where he’s coming from. I mean, I don’t think he really had any control over his mood and I should have turned him down. I have regrets too. I think it’ll be easier to just forget. If he does want something he should be the one to approach me.” You lay back on the couch. “The shittier thing to do would have been not to acknowledge it at all. He’s a good guy, it’s just like you said. He’s blunt.” You smiled at Akari. “This is our secret, okay?”

Akari nodded looking at you sympathetically. “Of course.” She came closer to you and hugged you. “Other than the mess, I’m glad he was nice to you. You pulled your long-time crush, that’s powerful girl.”

You smiled and hugged her back silently.

You both went to bed shortly after and you were left alone with your thoughts.

The bathroom. He had said he didn’t want to talk, fucked you, and even wanted to take you home. This sort of contradicted your theory of him liking Akari, right? No, he just thinks you’re easy. You frowned. You should have let him speak before you cut him off…twice. You’d just been afraid that what he’d say would hurt your feelings.

You tossed and turned thinking about him, remembering his touch, his lips. Despite it all he had been so gentle, so desperate to have you again. It hurt your feelings thinking about it. He had done all that but he didn’t really want you. You sighed, if he asked to have you again, would you do it?, you wondered. Yes, you decided, feeling hopeless. You felt very strongly about him and despite him not reciprocating your feelings, yours hadn’t diminished. You might have liked him more, or at least the idea of him more. You slowly dozed off.

You were pretty quiet the next morning and Akari let you just exist. She drove you to work, talking about things here and there but not bringing him up. You were grateful for her. “You know I do love you.”

Akari smiled as she turned off the ignition to the car. “I’ve always got your back.”

You both rushed into the meeting room afraid of being late but when you got there, there were only two other managers including Ijichi, and Principle Yaga sitting silently with a frown on his face.

You checked your watch. There were two minutes until the meeting was supposed to start. No other sorcerers were here. You sat down next to Akari and Ijichi. You looked at the empty chair beside you and for a moment thought about switching sides with Akari but you decided it was too much. You were thinking too much about it. He was not going to sit next to you, that would have been bold and stupid.

Suddenly the door opened and Shoko walked in giving you and Akari a smile. Two more sorcerers came in with a minute to spare. You watched the clock strike 7 and the door opened again. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was, his aura gave him away. You heard him head in your direction and you whipped your head in surprise as you heard the chair next to you slide out and Nanami sit down.

You clenched your jaw and felt Akari poke you from the other side. You looked at her.

You okay? She asked with her eyes. You nodded and rolled your eyes with a smile. She smiled back. You didn’t turn to look at him.

This wasn’t the first time he had sat next to you in a meeting. The first time you had been way more nervous. It was about a year and a half ago; after he had just rejoined Jujutsu society. You had already started crushing on him and he had asked you for a pen to jot down some small detail about a schedule change. The rest was history.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the doors burst open and you heard a familiar chuckle. “Okay, okay, we can start now. I’m here!” Gojo. He walked in cockily and sat down in the front row of seats. Yaga gave him a scrutinizing look before standing up, ready to start.

“You’re just the man I wanted to see, I have a mission for you.” Yaga grumbled. Gojo yawned in response. “Good morning everyone, I’ll make this short.” He shuffled some papers. “An update on the Okkotsu case, the boy’s violence has escalated resulting in the death of three high school students on Thursday evening. Yesterday Kisagari and Harutomi were sent to investigate and were instructed to bring the boy back.” He clenched his jaw. “They did not check in last night and upon further investigation Harutomi was found dead this morning a little outside the school grounds.”

The room went silent. You frowned, this was more serious than anticipated. Both of the sorcerers were grade two, it came as a shock that one of them was dead.

“Satoru, can I rely on you to pick up where they left off?”

Gojo stretched his arms and leaned back on his chair. “Of course,” he responded.

Yaga went over some other brief reminders before dismissing the meeting. You’d volunteered to deliver some items the school was exchanging with the Kanagawa Prefecture Cultural Museum. You stayed in your chair a little longer reading over the file Akari handed you. Nanami slowly got up from his chair and you could sense him staring at you. He probably wanted to talk. You owed him that much. You turned to look at him but before you could say anything Ijichi appeared next to him.

“I’m ready to head out whenever you are.” He said to Nanami.

Nanami turned to him and nodded. “Let’s go.”

You looked at Nanami but he turned away and started heading towards the door. You frowned and turned back to the papers in front of you.

“You okay?” Akari said.

You looked at her and smiled. “Yeah, I think I’m over it. It was a one night stand situation, I’m overthinking it.” She didn’t look convinced but you shook your head. “Believe me I’m not angry or hurt. Life’s too short for that.”

You headed out to your school assigned car and sat down. You glanced at the back seat in the rear view mirror. You felt your cheeks get hot as you remembered what had happened, and smacked your hands to the sides of your face. You could try to talk to him later…maybe.

As you drove towards Naka you thought about what you might eat for lunch. Along with bringing the items to the museum and picking up the ones they were trading, you were to go around and check the shrines in the area. You’d had a mission around here a while ago and remembered a soba restaurant close to the museum. Since you had spent the night at Akari’s you didn’t have the sandwich you had planned to eat today. Oh well, you thought, at least I wasn't the one that paid for it.

You noticed you were getting close and called ahead to the museum. “Good morning, this is Y/N with Jujutsu Tech. I'm about 30 minutes away.”

“Oh perfect,” A woman answered. “Head towards the employee parking, we’ve told the guard to let you in. By the way, we came across a new artifact donated by the estate of one of our late patrons. It looks very old and was kept in a special box, would you be able to take it to get it assessed?”

“Yes of course!” You were a little hesitant to pick up unregistered cursed objects but usually it was no big deal. Especially if it was kept in a special box. It would be fine.

As you walked into the back of the museum, a shiver went up your spine and you got a terrible feeling in your gut. You took a deep breath and went in, a little on edge. You went to the room you’d been instructed to and waited. Some of the items you were expecting to pick up were already laid out. An old cursed katana in need of restoration and a few Edo period items. You put down the box you were carrying. You were exchanging these items for an ancient tea set from the Nara period that was in prime condition and a painting scroll from around the same time.

“Sorry for running a little late.” You jumped as a voice came from behind you. You tensed as you turned, you hadn’t even felt the person’s presence.

“Oh, no problem, I’m Y/N.”

“Yes, yes, this is the item I spoke to you on the phone about.”

The lady put down an intricately decorated green box about 6 inches long and 4 wide. “We just got it in this morning. Our staff decided to open it to see what was inside, but only found one small object wrapped in a sort of paper wrap with writing on it. We couldn’t decipher the language, but right after we opened it the lights in the museum went out so we closed it.” She laughed nervously. “None of us are very superstitious, but we did get spooked.”

She picked up the box to hand it to you. You grabbed it but felt that she had a tight grip on it. You pulled a little harder to take it from her but she just stared at the box. “Ma’am?” You pulled again but her grip hadn’t faltered.

“I just…would like to see it one more time.”

“I don’t think that’s a good-“ she yanked the box back and quickly lifted the locking notch to open the box. She stared inside.

You went around her to look inside as well and gasped. You knew what this was. You had only seen one brought to the school when you were a student. It was one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers. You quickly shut the box and yanked it out of her hands.

“I’ll take it from here.” She seemed to snap out of her daze and nodded.

“Yes- uh. Let me find a box to put these loose items in so you can carry them easier. Excuse me.” The lady left the room and you stared at the box in shock. You needed to get this out of here.

You quickly pulled your phone out and called the school.

“Hello, this is Y/N. I’m picking up items from the Kanagawa Cultural Museum and they have given me one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers.”

The person on the other end let out a small noise. “Is it bound?”

“It’s wrapped in a talisman and contained in an emerald box.”

“Okay... We can send the closest available sorcerers to assist you in ensuring it gets returned to the school without interruptions. Do not worry about your other tasks, the finger is the new priority.” You looked back at the box nervously. “Do you know if they unraveled the talisman?”

“They opened the box and examined the finger but quickly closed it back up. The finger appears to still be partially wrapped in the box.”

“We should assume they unwrapped the finger, even if it was only for a little bit, so there might be curses coming that way, and the talisman is probably weakened if not all together useless.” The guy sighed on the phone. “You said this was Y/N correct.”

“Yes.”

He was silent. “Take the finger and run, you won’t be able to handle whatever curses are coming your way.”

You were hurt by his comments but knew it was true. You thanked him and hung up. You looked at the door. The lady was taking a while. You quickly began to unload your box and started loading the other contents into it. The sword was going to stick out too much so you quickly stuck it to your hip using your belt. You placed the finger in last and picked up the box. You went back into the hallway and once again felt the energy sour.

You headed towards the exit when you noticed a shoe in the hallway. You clenched your teeth. It was a woman’s high heel, the same kind the lady had been wearing earlier. Your instincts told you to run to the car but then a smell hit your nose. Blood. Blood and the sickeningly bitter scent of a curse.

Run. Your body was telling you to run. You were close to the exit, the car was parked right outside the door. You started to move your legs and turned towards the exit. You had been told the nearest sorcerers were heading your way. Someone else would be here to help. You would just get in the way and end up dying. You couldn’t fight, not well anyway. You didn’t have any weapons, you needed to leave, you needed to - you stopped in your tracks as you heard a small noise. You listened intently.

“Help!” It was a whisper. “Please.” An agonizing voice coming from behind you. You turned trying to find the voice. “Help.” It was coming from the hallway to your left. You hesitated. You blinked and took a deep breath. You clutched the boxed items closer to yourself and your hand went to the katana on your hip. It was old and rusted but it was something, you weren’t completely unarmed. You quickly went toward the noise and peeked around the corner.

You stood there shocked. The lady was sitting on the floor, her back to the wall, her face twisted in pain. She had a deep purple bruise on her right ankle and her left foot was gone. It looked like it had been hastily bit off. Where she was bleeding there was a small yellow curse lapping up the blood.

“Help! Help me! Help.” She started yelling as she saw you approach. You ran over to her and shushed her. The little yellow curse didn’t even notice you, it was too busy drinking the blood, but it was growing in size. You put the box down next to her and looked at her wound. It was big, an injury like this required immediate attention. Your mind raced as you thought about what to do. You could try to heal it, try to use your RCT. However you had no medical knowledge whatsoever so the chances of you messing it up were greater than you fixing it. But you had to do something. Even if you didn’t understand, stopping the bleeding or scabbing it over would help tremendously.

I don’t have enough CE for this, you thought bitterly. It would take a lot. You looked at the little creature in front of you and something clicked in your brain. You couldn’t explain it but you just knew what to do. You grabbed the creature by the base of its neck. It didn’t even flinch, it was too preoccupied consuming the trickling blood. That was until it started shrinking, its fingers curling, the tips of its ears wilting and then it started thrashing in your hands.

You were absorbing its cursed energy. Your hand burned as you felt the rotten energy enter you. Your veins ached and you winced, feeling like you were going to be sick. The input was foul, you felt like you needed to expel it, quickly. You placed your other hand on the bloody stump and tried to focus on your reverse cursed technique. You laughed when you noticed something was happening only to flinch as the creature started to kick and scratch at you. You slammed it onto the floor trying to subdue it. It became more and more withered as you became accustomed to the feeling of absorbing its energy. The wound was looking much better. Almost.

The yellow creature let out one final shriek before it completely deflated. The lady’s ankle was now a hardened scab. You knew it hadn’t healed completely but it wasn’t going to get any worse. You looked up and saw that she was staring horrified at your hand wrapped around the stump. In your other hand, the curse was now a grey lump of flesh. You clenched your fist and it disintegrated into ash.

You looked up at the lady and let go of her leg. “We need to get outside.” Once outside you could make a veil and prevent whatever was inside from getting out. You had quickly deduced that the small yellow curse was not the one that had done the damage. There was something bigger and stronger and it was looking for the finger.

You grabbed the green box with the finger, tucking it under your arm as you helped the lady up, letting her lean on you as you started for the door. You quickly hobbled there together. You were going to make it. You were two feet from the door. One foot. Your hand reached out to push when you suddenly felt the wind get knocked out of you. Your mouth flew open and released a stream of blood. The world went black for a second and you felt yourself falling. You came to, right before you hit the ground and regained your balance. You turned around quickly but your body was overcome with pain. Your hand went to your abdomen, you had broken some ribs. But what had hit you? You looked over at the lady and saw she was unconscious. “Shit.” You slid her off your shoulder and looked around for a curse. Nothing. You quickly checked her pulse. She was breathing. You sighed and stood up looking around.

The box! You looked around the floor for it. You had dropped it when you had been hit. It was nowhere to be found. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You realized now the curse had probably slammed into you while trying to get the box. You had to get it back and fast. You stopped. No this isn’t right. I need to get this lady to safety and set a veil. I need to wait for the closest sorcerer to arrive, I can’t fight. You heard screaming from the hallway again. You clenched your jaw. You were terrified.

You looked down at the lady and quickly picked her up. You were right by the door. You pushed open the door wheezing a little and trying your best to ignore the pain as she leaned into your broken ribs. You set her down on the steps outside and turned to the building. The curtain! you needed to put one up. You lifted a hand and muttered your phrase.

You opened your phone and dialed the school. The same person picked up. “The situation has escalated. I was attacked and the curse got a hold of the finger. So far there's only been one confirmed injury, but I think many others are in danger. I’ve placed a veil for now,” you said.

“Stay put, help is almost there.” You looked back at the building and frowned. You hung up. You heard another yell and your stomach dropped. You felt yourself tearing up. There had to be something you could do. You needed to do something, anything, you couldn’t just stand there while everyone inside was in danger. It wasn’t fair.

You felt your body move and before you realized, you found yourself stepping into the veil. You quickly went to the door and stepped back into the building. You saw more of the little yellow creatures climbing up and down the walls. You counted seven. They were all moving towards the same place. Looking along the wall, you spotted what you were looking for and quickly hobbled over to push the fire alarm.

The alarm rang in your ears. You coughed and winced as more blood came out of your mouth. Your chest ached with every step, every breath, but you kept going. Someone was yelling for help. Without thinking you snatched one of the little yellow curses and started absorbing it. You were careful not to heal your own wounds. You’d been able to help the lady, but with little understanding of internal anatomy, something told you you’d do more damage than good.

You turned the corner and found a man in shock staring at where his hand once was. You rushed over and grabbed it with your free hand exerting the cursed energy into it. The little fiend shriveled in your hand again as the wound scabbed over.

As the alarm cycled you hoped people in the museum were evacuating. Since you were in the employee backrooms you couldn’t tell. The man stared at his hand traumatized and you left him there to try to find the creature. The closer you felt you got, the more of the little yellow demons swarmed the walls, like vultures waiting for prey. You pushed past twenty trying to get through a door frame and you were surprised to see that there were at least a hundred in the next room. The curse you were looking for was there too.

It was a large pudgy creature, around 6 feet tall with frog-like features. It had grubby hands and ornate green stripes along its back. It was muttering something, you couldn’t make out the phrase. It had a disembodied human hand in its mouth and it was sucking on the exposed wrist draining it of blood. Every time it slurped, the fingers of the hand would contract open and closed. It made your stomach uneasy.

The curse didn’t notice you coming in, it was too preoccupied trying to open the emerald box. You noted the curse had it backwards and was trying to pry it open on the side with the hinges. You didn’t know how much longer you had. You debated what to do. In this room the curse was isolated, it couldn’t access any more victims and hopefully a majority, if not all, of the people in the museum had evacuated. There was a sorcerer on the way, you could leave it here or wait outside of the door to direct them towards the curse.

But the finger….You could get it while it was distracted, or at least try to. You had the katana and even though it was old, it was still a weapon. As you pondered what to do you noticed the room had gone silent. The creature was still mumbling and trying to get the box open but the other small yellow creatures had gone quiet. You put your hand on the hilt of the katana once again uneasy. You made your decision. Even if you were useless you could buy some time. You slowly crept closer and closer to the curse. You took a quiet breath before pulling out the sword and swinging it at the monster's neck.

The sword hit the curse’s flesh with a loud thunk. It was blunt. Practically useless. The creature stopped struggling with the box and its head quickly turned to look at you. It had two sets of eyes, although they all seemed to be looking in different directions. Suddenly the curse made a dive at you, mouth open ready to bite.

You attempted to dodge to the right but you were too slow to completely move out of the way. You felt a cool sensation on your arm and you turned to see your left arm in a sorry state. The skin on your forearm and elbow was gone. Blood poured out and you could only stare in horror. The pain hit you all at once and you barely managed to turn away from your arm, trying to locate where the curse was now. It was staring at you seemingly confused as to how it had missed you, the sliver of your flesh hanging down out of its mouth like a tongue.

It looked like it was going to charge at you again and as you started backing away you realized your back was to the wall. It realized this too and moved forward at a ridiculous speed. All you managed to do was bring up the old katana. You shut your eyes embracing yourself for the fatal blow but you only felt the curses’ plump body falling into you, wriggling around. The sword was in your hand but your wrists were twisted awkwardly around the handle and you realized it had become stuck in the creature's mouth. You let go and pushed against the creature with your leg.

In its shocked state, it stumbled backwards and you were able to see what had happened. It had opened its mouth wide and lodged the katana between the top of his mouth and his jaw. He couldn’t shut it. It reached desperately to try to pry it out but its stubby arms couldn’t reach inside its own mouth.

You quickly took advantage of its distraction to try to locate the green box. You spotted it on the ground in the middle of the room.You looked back at the creature making sure it was still distracted and started sneaking away.

It suddenly let out a loud screech and its body started contorting. Its head grew bigger and smaller, arms longer and shorter. It seemed to be trying to molt out of its body to get rid of the sword. But no matter how much it twisted and yelled the sword wouldn’t come out. You wondered for a second, what kind of curse was imbued on the sword.

You took another step away and suddenly the creature’s attention snapped back to you. You tried to make a run for it but it hurtled its way in front of you and slammed you back into the wall.

You yelled out weakly, more blood spilling from your mouth and your left arm sending a shooting pain throughout your body as your exposed muscle stained the wall with your blood. The curse moved its hands to your neck and lifted you up, choking you against the wall. You desperately tried to inhale and tried not to panic, but the combination of the pain and lack of oxygen wasn’t letting you think clearly. You kicked desperately at the curse but it wasn’t budging. You put your hands up to its wrists and tried to budge them to no avail.

As you started to see dots, your kicks got weaker. You felt its grip tighten and your hands fell weakly onto its arms. You began trying to take the energy out. Your body felt almost as if it was on autopilot. No air and feeling defeated, you started to allow the cursed energy you were absorbing into you entirely. You felt a burning sensation on your arm and coming from inside your chest. Your entire body felt hot as you felt things fixing themselves. You also noticed the grip around your neck had faltered some as you took a desperate and choppy gulp of air. That little flow of oxygen allowed you to think a little more clearly as you kept absorbing the CE.

You didn’t want to finish healing yourself but you needed to put the energy somewhere. You looked at the curse in front of you. Its face was right in front of your chest. You reached down with your right hand and grabbed the blade of the katana. You began transferring the energy into it. You felt the sword get hot and push back, almost as if it was refusing the new input of CE, but after gripping the steel tighter you felt the sword lose its dullness.

The rust started to fall away and the metallic sheen of the blade began to glow. The edge of the sword was becoming very sharp. You wanted to let go but found that your hand was bound to it, the transfer requiring more and more CE and blood and pain. You felt the blade cut into your palm and you ground your teeth. You needed to stop. You ripped your hand away from the blade and removed your hand from the curse’s arm. You quickly put your hands into the curse’s mouth and grabbed its teeth and lip. You pulled its upper jaw down hard for it to close its mouth and watched as the newly sharpened sword point pierce through the creature’s palate and skewered out through the top of its head. As the tip of the blade suddenly appeared through its skull, the grip around your neck loosened and the curse dropped flat on the ground, twitching.

You could only stare in shock at what had just happened.

Suddenly a rush of the small yellow curses began moving forward to consume the liquids oozing out of the curse. You felt your stomach churn as you watched them lap everything up. You turned away from the sight and looked for the box. You took a staggering step towards the item, still laying in the middle of the room, and let out a yelp. Your entire body felt heavy and tired. You felt sick. You still had an excess of CE and your body couldn’t handle it. You collapsed to your knees as you neared the box. You placed your palms on the floor and tried to expel the energy from your body. The floor beneath you turned black and cracked. You poured it all out and felt slight relief, but still felt sore and achy. You looked back up at the box and reached for it. You took it in your hands and sat back. You took a shaky breath and laughed. That could have been bad.

You jumped as you heard the door open and quickly turned towards it. You felt a slight pang of relief as you realized it was a pair of sorcerers. That relief turned to anger as you realized it was two students.

Inumaki and Maki. They stared at you curiously and looked around trying to make sense of what had happened. You looked around too. The place was crawling with little yellow curses, a horde of them concentrated on the still twitching body of the large curse with a katana stuck through his skull. There was a human hand just laying limp to your right and you were sitting in the middle of the room. You bet you were a sight to see. Your suit was torn in various places, soaked in blood from wounds that had healed.

“Are you okay?” Maki asked.

“The curse-“ you stopped and put a hand up to your throat. It was burning and speaking felt difficult. Your voice had a heavy rasp to it due to your windpipe almost being crushed. You tried to clear your throat but it sent a sharp pain down it. “The curse has been defeated, I secured the finger.” You finally said fighting against the fire in your throat. You held up the box. “Are you two the only ones here?”

“Daisuke is outside, he drove us here.” Another manager.

“Tuna.”

“We’ll take care of these creatures, Daisuke is waiting with another secure container to put the finger in.”

You sighed and nodded. “Any casualties?”

“None, almost everyone was evacuated. Police and firemen have arrived on scene. The veil you placed is very good.” Maki said.

You slowly got to your feet and tucked the box under your right arm. You had healed your previously flayed left arm but it still felt sore. You put your hand on your left elbow to try to comfort it. “Be careful. He’s down but he’s got razor sharp teeth. Also we need that sword. If you could get it for me that would be great,” you said with a smile. You could tell from their faces that it wasn’t very convincing.

You limped out of the room and collapsed against the wall once you were out. They sent students? If the curse had gotten a hold of the finger the students would have been in serious danger. You would have surely been killed, and they wouldn’t have known what they were walking into. You were going to say something when you got back. You got back to your feet and started heading towards the exit.

You spotted Daisuke talking with some policemen as you emerged from the veil. He looked at you shocked to see the state you were in and quickly pulled out a wooden box to put the cursed item in. You dropped the box into it and he quickly shut it, muttering some kind of extra enchantment on it.

You leaned against the car exhausted and still feeling off. “Are you okay?”

You looked at him and nodded. “Yes,” you hesitated. “But I think I’m going to need you to give me a ride back to the school.”

The students finished up quickly and you sat in the passenger seat sleeping the whole way back. You felt uneasy still. Your bones creaking and your entire body sore.

Once inside the school you insisted on taking the box and delivering it to the main office. You wanted to talk to the staff member you had talked with over the phone.

You swung open the door to his office and stormed up to his desk. You dropped the box onto the infront of him and stared the worker down. “Here it is. One of the legendary Ryomei Sukuna fingers, one of the most powerful relics in the world, previously unwrapped and unbound less than an hour ago.”

The guy looked at the box and then up at you giving you a criticizing glare. “You seem upset.”

“Why the fuck would you send two students instead of a high ranked sorcerer?”

The guy looked away from you and smirked. “They were the closest available and besides, if you were able to handle it why would I waste someone’s time?” He gave you a snarky smile.

Your blood boiled. He had a point but you had gotten so lucky. “They could have gotten hurt if the curse had been able to get the finger, you didn’t know the whole situation of what was going on.”

He shrugged. “It looks like I made the right decision. If you, out of anyone, was able to defeat the curse, there was no real danger. The curse even cauterized the wounds. None of the victims were in grave danger.”

“What?”

“Two of the victims were found with missing limbs but not even bleeding out or anything.” He started to act annoyed. “Look I have things to do, I expect your report by tomorrow, let us know your thoughts in the appropriate feedback section. Have a nice day. Get out.”

You stared at him frustrated before storming out of the room and almost running into someone. “Sorry,” you muttered before looking up. It was Nanami.

He looked down at you concerned by the state you were in, bloodied and sweaty. “Y/N are you okay?”

For some reason that was your last straw. His question made your eyes start watering. You rolled your eyes blinking hard to try to stop the tears. “I’m fine.” You said not meeting his gaze. He didn’t move.

“You should go see Shoko.” He said, his voice now softer. He moved his hand to your face, carefully placing it under your chin to make you look at him. His thumb grazed your cheek. You looked up at him and frowned, tears leaking from your eyes. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Nothing had been going your way and you were exhausted. You took a step forward towards Nanami and wrapped your arms around him.

It was stupid, but you desperately needed some kind of comfort. He didn’t move at first but he eventually put his arms around you. You buried your face into his shirt and felt yourself relax for the first time in hours. You felt your eyes close right as your legs gave out beneath you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

˚₊✩‧₊nana here: okay okay i got a little (a lot) carried away with the fight scene. I just love making Y/N a badass and I promise it makes sense later. Again theres a lot added in thats part of a longer story but idk...if anything i'll cross post here and ao3. Thank yall for reading and as always if you saw a typo, no you didn't.

please click on through to pt. 4 and if you did read this all, I love you.

super duper shout out to @zoldsick for reading and editing my crazy ideas, thank you cath<3

pt. 1 pt. 2. pt. 4

˚₊✩‧₊ taglist: @wrldtups @rjreins @phattyboo90 @tnyblacklesbo @silkija @justwantedachange @inthedarkshadows000 @nniiyyaa @starkmila09 @sikuthealien @wifenanami @bloombb @kentos-glasses @inciteterr0r

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m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months

Note

CHAPTER FOUR WAS SO GOOD UGHH literally the only fanfic I have ever loved so much and wait for updates like this. Am so excited for the next one!!!

On the topic of finally opening requests, I was wondering if I could ask for head-canons of what a relationship with Seishiro and a female reader would be like. If we want to be specific, maybe related to the fanfic? Like, how you would imagine their relationship would have been like back when they were still in high school, young and with Nagi’s past soccer career and all. Don’t feel pressured to write this, and good luck with everything!😽😽

── DATING NAGI!

Synopsis: Headcanons about having Seishiro Nagi as your boyfriend.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Nagi x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Content Warnings: none really, just generally fluffy and silly

A/N: AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON i hope you like where i go w the story in the future!! and hehe now that we’re in the past arc of peregrine you will actually get to see all of the nitty gritty details of their relationship in the fic itself so i won’t spoil it 🤫 but i love nagi ofc so i’ve added some general headcanons on what i think he would be like as a bf

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

no matter how the two of you get together, reo is somehow involved LMAOAOAO like bro is ALWAYS at the scene of the crime in some way shape or form just because i don’t think nagi would really pick up on the fact that he has a crush on you without outside intervention

it would also definitely be a jump scare when he confesses!! you would have zero idea it’s coming because he literally hasn’t changed how he acts towards you whatsoever

canonically he doesn’t really interact with a lot of people or have a lot of friends and he’s not aggressive with romance so i just don’t think he’d really know what the appropriate method of telling someone you like them is

would probably say some shit like “reo says i have a crush on you” and would be so nonchalant about it meanwhile you’re like “???” because you did not even realize he knew your name and also why is reo being brought up

i honestly think he would not be a bad boyfriend. yes he is lazy and unmotivated but he does what he needs to do and if something is important to him he generally puts in effort for it

that’s another reason why it would take him foreverrr to ask you out — he would have to like you enough that he realizes he does in fact want to have a relationship with you even if it is a hassle

he doesn’t have social media though so don’t expect there to be an official announcement that you guys are together or anything like that HAHA

he would probably forget to tell anyone that the two of you are dating and it’s not because he’s ashamed of you or is trying to hide you or anything he literally just does not care what other people think and would prefer not to talk them if possible so it never comes up

you’ll show up to an event with him and everyone’s like “omg nagi who is this” and he’s like “this is my girlfriend” and someone (probably otoya tbh) is like “since when have you had a girlfriend” and he’s like “it’s been two years 😐”

i think he would be fire at insulting people just because of how many video games he plays…that man has seen some of the worst sides of humanity

the world is lucky he’s a pacifist and avoids conflict because he has some vile stuff stored away (i will never be over him asking barou if he practiced kneeling because he’s about to make him his servant)

this particular quality makes him the BEST person to talk shit with

he’s not a gossipy boyfriend in the sense that he doesn’t have anything juicy of his own to contribute to the conversation but i’m pretty sure he mentioned he watches dramas at one point so you know he’s locked tf in if you need to complain abt someone

he will sit there and be so invested in the tea…def would not give any useful advice but he will make fun of anyone bothering you so you still end up feeling better

i don’t think he would get jealous honestly

the thought of you cheating on him doesn’t cross his mind at all because why would he date someone he didn’t trust fully???

i would say he expects the same from you because he would but at the same time he voluntarily talks to one (1) other person besides you and that’s reo so the opportunity for you to be jealous just wouldn’t even crop up

definitely super clingy and cuddly

loves being babied too

according to epnagi he has this whole automatic system in his apartment to clean and do laundry and i think he’d be fine if you appropriate that so no more cleaning!! but you will have to cook because that man literally only eats fruit jellies

genuinely how is he so built and not dying of malnutrition SKJFDSHKJ

he probably is terrible at coming up with date ideas so it’s up to you to plan things

again it’s not malicious i think for him just spending time with you is his ideal date!! like he doesn’t see the point in getting dressed up and going somewhere fancy when you could just eat at home and be comfortable together

but if it’s an important day or you tell him that you want him to suggest something for once, he WILL go all out (which means calling reo for advice and doing what he tells him to)

overall communication is key with him. he’s not particularly sensitive or in tune with other people’s emotions so being passive aggressive or expecting him to read your mind will honestly just end up making your mood worse because he will not pick up on the fact that something is wrong

but if you tell him what you want him to change he will happily do it!! he just needs to be told very clearly if you’re upset or need him to do something different

honestly it would be very refreshing. there are zero games with nagi and he doesn’t really try to hide anything — what you see is what you get 100% of the time

overall 10/10 would date idc haters dni he’s a sweetheart and he’s doing his best

#nagi x reader #nagi x y/n #nagi x you #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #headcanons #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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reiderwriter · 1 year

Text

♦️Pardon The Way That I Stare♦️

Chapter 8 of That's What You Get

Prev Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: After some encouragement from Emily and Penelope, you try to explain your reaction to Reid at work. Until you find yourself reacting to him more and more, distracting you from doing your job. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, Reader is just really horny for Reid (REAL). A/N: We're getting closer to the climax and I'm SO beyond excited for everyone to read the next chapter because I think it's going to be so good but also so evil and I enjoy that very much. If you like the series, let me know by dropping a message in the replies or in my inbox, and follow my other account @reiderslibrary for just fics from me without my random thoughts and bullshit in between... You can find masterlist here, and the series masterlist is linked here!

You were stupid, there was no other logical explanation for it. Staring at Emily on your doorstep as your brain stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, trying to process the words she’d just said to you, there was really only one thing running through your brain.

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” you groaned, your hands coming up to your head as you pondered your next move.

“There’s no chance that you’ll believe this was all just one practical joke that I’ve been playing to test how quickly you could turn up at my place with wine?” You looked up hopefully at Emily, and she returned with a concerned look of her own, that silently communicated ‘No, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

“Worth a shot, come on in.” You opened the door wider for Emily and grabbed a second glass from your kitchen to share the wine before she could start her interrogation.

“So,” she prompted as soon as you returned to the couch, and you sighed heavily as you nodded and began.

“I married Reid in Vegas.”

“Yes, I got that from the text, what I didn’t get was why, what, when, where, who, and how! Question words, Y/N, important information if you please.” You chuckled at Emily’s tone, and you melted a little into your couch. Just like with Penelope, letting others know had comforted you. You’d never been one to bottle up your emotions, and you couldn’t exactly tell Spencer how you felt about him, so your dearest FBI-assigned best friends were a welcome compromise.

“You promise not to tell anyone? Penelope knows, and so does Rossi, but no one else does. Well maybe someone else but I don’t know who that someone is - long story.” You rambled, still aware of the promise you’d made with Spencer, and knowing that you’d actually broken it twice now.

“Scouts honor, now get on with it.”

“You were never a scout.”

“That’s beside the point, Y/N, now spill!”

“Do you remember when we finished the case in Vegas last weekend, and we all wanted nothing more than to go home, but the jet was landed?” A small nod encourages you to continue. “Well, Reid offered to show me this bar that he thought I’d enjoy, and honestly, I’d had a tense phone call with my mom and was feeling a bit crappy, so I thought a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

“A drink might get you married though.” You glared at her at the interruption, and she held her hands up in surrender as you continued.

“The bar was amazing, and he noticed I was feeling down, and I don’t know, he just has this way of making me feel calm and fully together. I was a mess earlier that day, but with like one short conversation, he kind of turned my mood entirely around.” You flushed then and decided to ignore Emily’s next interjection.

“Oh god…”

“Apparently after that, we went to a casino or another bar or something, but honestly, I drank so much I don’t remember any of that. But at some point, we bought a very expensive engagement ring, made our way to the Bureau for Wedding Licences and then a chapel and now we’re legally married.” You tried to end your story there, but Emily wasn’t having that.

“No, you’re not stopping there. You said you kissed, and you ruined everything, and you mentioned a wedding night in that text, do not shortchange me now, Y/L/N. Wait, should I be calling you Reid now?” She grinned at the flush that coated your entire body with that, and you buried your head in your pillows.

“Okay, okay. Well, we’re trying to figure out who the witnesses to our wedding were. We know that two team members were there, and Penelope was one of them, but Spencer doesn’t know that yet. Again, another long story.” You let your words sink in as you realize the tangled mess you’d spun for yourself in the last week.

“We spent some time researching our options on Saturday night, to see if we could get our memories to come back and I might not have left until a couple hours ago?”

“Y/N! You’ve been banging Reid for the last three days?”

“No! No, nothing like that, we didn’t- well, we did just not at his house, but also I don’t think you want to hear about that.” You spilled all the details about your last few days with Reid, his touches, his care, the dates you’d been on, the way you’d wrapped yourself around each other in your sleep, but still woken up to an empty bed, all the way up to that fateful kiss and your stupid reaction.

“So there, I’ve ruined it.” Emily looked at you pityingly and started to say something when your doorbell rang a second time.

“That’s reinforcements,” Emily said, standing and moving to greet the newcomer herself. You were relieved when Penelope Garcia came marching through the door, ice cream in hand and mouth already moving.

“Have no fear, your guardian angel is here. Emily texted me en route and I disentangled myself from my plans with a now very suspicious Derek Morgan to race over here. I think I managed to throw him off the scent by mentioning my ukelele lessons with Sam though, he always kinda glazes over whenever I go into heavy details about that.” She perches herself on the couch beside you and starts organizing things on the table, pulling out three tubs of ice cream and locating adequate spoons in the drawer.

“Pen, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yes, I did. Emily tell her I did. I need all the details that you suddenly remembered Y/N or I’m going to go crazy, and let me tell you, I am not an effective tech analyst when my mind is all aflutter with wonder.” You smiled awkwardly at the situation. You’d glossed over the details of your wedding night with Emily, going no further than insinuating that you’d had sex, but now the pressure was on.

“We just want to help you, Y/N. And we’re morbidly curious.” Emily joined in. Both of their eyes were trained on you in a hopeful expression, leaving the ball firmly in your court as you fought down the embarrassment rising from the back of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” was all you managed to squeak out before they were reacting, asking twenty questions each in the space of a minute as your body both caught fire at the memory and shrunk down to the size of an ant at the attentions.

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll tell you more but you have to calm down.” They stilled themselves and bit their tongue, and you continued.

“Well I don’t want to get into the, uh, specific details, but let’s just say that he’s very good at putting theory into practice. That or he’s actually very experienced in sex and nobody ever realized, because the things he was doing were like, expert-level maneuvers. I didn’t think I was that flexible until he was hitting from-”

“OKAY not that much detail, this is still Reid we’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly and decided to spare them all the details. “All I’ll say is that we both finished multiple times. And I might have stupidly let him finish inside of me.”

“Y/N, you should know better! Safe sex is really important, especially if you’re fucking in a hotel room in Vegas.” Emily half-chastised you, but you could hear the humor in her voice and just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly having sex with a stranger, I was having sex with my husband.” That got you a teasing cooing from the two women and you buried your face in your hands again.

“So he’s your husband now, is he? How long have you been married? Like three days?”

“Five. Fuck, we’re running out of time.” The length of time that had elapsed since you’d walked down the aisle shocked you as soon as you’d acknowledged it, and you downed your glass of wine as your brain ran rampant.

“Rossi said that if we didn’t tell everyone in a week, he’d do it for us so we didn’t lose our jobs, and we need to file for an annulment soon so we don’t have to get a divorce but there’s like… a one week window, and it’s already been five days. Shit. shit shit shit shit.”

“Hold on, Y/N, you said he kissed you earlier today, right? I wouldn’t exactly recommend getting married and then dating your partner, but it sounds like you both at least like each other enough to pursue this relationship, why would you need an annulment?” Emily’s confusion only served to remind you of the reason they were both here in the first place.

“That’s the problem. I think he thinks I don’t like him like that. And it’s totally my fault that he thinks that, because when he kissed me I didn’t react well and then he just left, and I think I ruined everything.”

“Define not reacting well,” Emily probed further.

“I pushed him away and slammed the door in his face. But that was only because I remembered everything that happened between us on our wedding night, and remembering the most satisfying experience of your entire existence while face-to-face with the man who you’d hitherto never thought capable of that, and having it occur in like 0.02 of a second is a paralyzing experience.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Penelope whispered from her side of the couch and you nodded heartily in agreement.

“And what, he just left?” Emily asked again, tone incredulous with all the information she was receiving.

“Well when I’d had my moment and realized what I’d done, I opened the door again and he wasn’t there. And that was only like a minute later. He messaged me this after he left.” You grabbed your phone and opened it up, showing the girls the message and noting their winces in reaction to his words.

“It’s bad, right?”

“No! No, this is salvageable! You just have to… be brave?” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her own words as you pulled your phone back and poured yourself another glass, ready to drown your sorrows once again. Emily was a little more confident.

“Okay. Here’s what you do. I’m going to talk to Rossi for you tomorrow morning at work, get him to hold off on his big reveal while you go and explain everything to Spencer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds doable, I guess.” You sniffled a little, rereading the text having made your emotions jump back up to the surface again as you fought off tears.

“Brilliant. And then you can stay married and continue having wonderful sex, and make some genius babies and make me their godmother.” You threw a pillow at Penelope that she was just too slow to catch, and filled the rest of your evening with wine, ice cream, and good company.

–X–

Emily sends you a thumbs-up text after she talks to Rossi the next morning, and a weight falls off your shoulder. One step down, one to go right?

You’d arrived at work probably a little bit too early, having spent the night tossing and turning and playing every possible outcome in your mind over and over again. It had been half an hour before the next person turned up, and Hotch had only given you a confused half-nod in greeting before secluding himself in his office. Rossi had been the next to arrive, about twenty minutes later, and he too had questioned your presence but not in so many words.

“Early morning, Y/N? Settling into new routines in your newly-wed life, are we?” You’d stuttered out an answer but he was halfway up the stairs by the time you finished, obviously meaning the comment to be rhetorical.

Morgan, Emily, and JJ were all next, showing up only a few minutes before your shift officially started, but there was no sign of Reid, and you were running out of time - and privacy - to talk to him.

Then at 9 sharp the elevator doors opened, and from your seat at your desk, you watched him step out, feeling your tongue grow thick and your heart beat faster as he made his way into the office. This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel, this was cartoonish like a teenage boy in a brat pack movie watching the hottest girl in the school walk down a corridor. This was Spencer, your husband, and your best friend, and here you were feeling giggly and shy.

You almost felt like texting Emily back, telling her if you started giggling and twirling your hair, to take you out back and put you out of your misery.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he settled into his morning routine, pulling off his scarf, putting his bag away, and then moving to the kitchen to fill up on his morning coffee. You did your best to covertly follow him, trying not to alert the others to your heart eyes as you looked at him and forgot everyone else.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blocked off the entry to the kitchen as he spun around to face you, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“Sure, Y/N, what’s up?” His voice didn’t betray any of his emotions, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you could tell you’d hurt him the day before. You took a deep breath and walked closer to him as he continued making his coffee, again refusing to look you in the eyes as he continued as normal.

“It’s about yesterday-”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this here, right?” He cut you off in a whisper, his voice sending shivers down your spine as you gripped the countertop beside him for support. You’d gotten closer than you expected at first, somehow magnetically drawn to him, your body language just as open to him as he was closed to you.

“I think we need to, Spence. I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“Spencer I got my memory back.” His eyes widened and he blossomed in front of you again, attention entirely on you now as he took in your words.

“You did?”

“Partially, only the… Only the memories of your hotel room.” His eyes darkened in understanding, moving unconsciously closer to you, placing a hand next to yours on the counter as he effectively trapped your body in.

“Oh. Those memories.”

“Yeah. So you can see why I was a bit distracted.” He nodded at your words, but he was still coming closer to you now. Your body felt weak underneath you, entirely reacting to his closeness, the warmth rolling off his body, the electricity sparking between you despite him not touching you anywhere.

“Distracted?” His eyes darted to your lips as he grew closer, and your legs chose that exact second to give in underneath you.

Your knees hit the ground uncomfortably, as he reacted to your sudden movement, trying to grab you and pull you up, but only managing to grab the hand that was already holding the counter above you, awkwardly twisting and pinning your arm up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I think… I think I should go,” you were face to face with his crotch, and looking up at him in that position was certainly giving you unwholesome thoughts. He jumped back as you scrambled out from underneath him, begging whatever god was out there that none of the profilers you worked with would question the dazed state that would follow you for the rest of the day.

–X–

Despite your need to straighten things out with Spencer, you’d avoided him for the rest of the day, and, having been called out on a case, you spent the better part of the week avoiding him as well. After literally falling for him, you’d decided that maybe in your newly weakened lovesick stage, it was best for everyone on the team that you try to stay as clear-headed as possible.

Not everyone on the team, though, agreed. He’d trailed after you like a lost puppy for days now, and you wanted nothing more than to give in and throw yourself in his arms. But there was a murderer on the loose and you needed to give your entire attention to it.

He’d tried multiple times to get you to help him with some work, suggesting that you go through some files together, or check out one of the witnesses together, much to your discomfort. Luckily, Hotch had picked up on some of the discomfort between the two of you and had kept you somewhat apart, not asking questions.

But the last night on the case, he’d cornered you, and you had to work twice as hard to extricate yourself from the situation.

“Y/N, why are you avoiding me?” He’d caught you alone in the hotel lobby, pulling you into a dark corner without much foot traffic to confront you. “Is it because of the kiss? Because the way you talked about getting your memories back the other day made me think we were okay about that again, but if we’re not then I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the kiss, Spence, and we really shouldn’t be talking about this here.” You tried to turn and leave, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you back into him, bodies pressed flush up against each other now.

“Spencer let go, someone could see us.” Even you knew your voice sounded half-hearted, not really wanting him to stop touching you at all.

“If it’s not the kiss, then why are you acting like I don’t exist?” His face was close again, and you felt your body reacting the same way it had done in the staff kitchen. Your knees went weak again, but he was prepared this time, holding you up in his arms, gently maneuvering you so you were pinned against the wall.

“Is this it?” He asked, letting his hands trail over your body as you whimpered under his touch. “Your reactions?”

Your brain was empty of a response, so you just held still, desperate to see what he would do or say next.

“You know, the deadline on our annulment has passed. It’s been over a week now,” he said, his forehead resting on yours as he brought his hips ever closer.

You were the one that gave in first, pushing your head up to capture his lips in a crushing kiss, needing him the way you needed water, food, and sleep. You’d deprived yourself for so long, and now you were hungry, ravenous, and he was the same. Your lips opened, and soon his tongue was snaking in, caressing you in ways both familiar and new, and your entire body heated up to its boiling point.

You moaned under his touch as his hands wandered, silently begging for more of him. Your brain only kicked back into gear when you registered the sound of voices about to turn the corner. Quickly pushing him off, you pulled yourself together just as JJ and Morgan found you there.

“Y/N, Reid, Garcia got a positive ID on our unsub, we’re about to go SWAT his house, get your gear ready.”

Either you were very good at masking your emotions and the physical outburst you’d just shared, or Morgan was just too caught up in getting his job done that he didn’t look too closely at the way Reid’s tie was half undone, your lips were pink and swollen and that both of you were breathing abnormally. Whichever it was, you were just thankful that neither of them questioned you as you all left to go and do your job.

–X–

To your detriment, you’d avoided him on the jet back as well, choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and sit in a single seat at the end of the plane rather than risk his hands on you again like last time. You already couldn’t be trusted around him, and you wanted to take no risks with everyone else present.

He’d sat in your line of vision purposefully though, making eye contact every now and then to remind you that he was still watching you. You’d feigned exhaustion and pretended to sleep in the end, despite the flight duration only being a measly two hours. He’d let you exit the plane alone though, and said a general goodbye to the team upon landing, giving you a second look and wave before taking himself home.

The ball was firmly in your court.

“What the hell was all that?” Emily whispered in your ear as you both watched him leave alone. “What happened to the plan?” You smiled awkwardly, not wanting to admit how fucking horny the man made you feel, and how it was affecting your work performance so badly that avoiding him was the only way to keep your job.

“We had the talk, everything’s fine.”

“The two of you aren’t walking out of here hand in hand, so obviously everything is not fine, Penelope, tell me I’m wrong.” The other woman had stumbled into the bullpen upon landing and Emily had immediately drawn her into your hushed conversation as soon as Morgan had made to go home as well.

“What’s going on, hot stuff, I thought you’d be enjoying every second of your marital bliss by now.”

“He’s too distracting.” You whisper shouted at him. “He kissed me again last night and I almost let him take me in the lobby. And Morgan and JJ almost caught us, so yeah, he’s too distracting.”

“Oh god, you’re horny for Reid.” Emily laughed slightly at the implication as if it had just dawned on her and you hadn’t had an entire conversation where you fawned about how good in bed he was.

“Yes, I’m horny for Reid, okay, now please stop laughing, I’m in pain.”

“Well you know there’s only one solution, right?” Penelope said as if it were clear as day. “You need to go have sex with him again. See if you can be normal with him when you’re not so pent up.”

“I don’t know, Pen….” You were still staring at the elevator doors, even after it had been so long since he’d left.

“What is there to not know? You like him, he likes you, you’re married. Like you said before, it’s not like you’re having sex with a stranger, he’s your husband.” Having your words thrown back in your face gave you the boost of confidence that you needed, and you sprang from your chair.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emily repeated and you looked back down at the two women.

“Okay, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go seduce my husband, I guess?” You turned on your heel and left, marching out to the sounds of whoops and cheers from the two women behind you.

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid series #criminal minds self insert

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btsmosphere · 3 months

Text

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 10: Is This Not Control?

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: You're forced to come to terms with the danger – and the beauty – in the way your powers burn.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 4.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, near-injury, arguing, skipping a meal, nightmares containing death (this is brief)

a/n: THIS is the chapter that made me keep going with this fic. I read it back after a looong break, and realised I wanted to finish after reading some of this where our main pair are so.... close... to revealing something. especially Jungkook... what is going through his head?

“You’re getting too good at this!”

The shriek came from Hobi, currently several metres in the air.

Laughing, you let him come down to you, where he landed with ease befitting a villain. You really ought to work on that yourself – which was precisely why you were here. He had asked you to train with him, bringing you the chance to work on something more athletic, and him to add even more danger into his death-defying stunts.

Smirking, you flipped your hair.

“Maybe next time I’ll really try, then you’ll have another think coming,” you goaded.

Grin wide, he scoffed.

“You really are as bad as Kook. He was always insufferable when we did this too!”

“You’ve trained like this with Jungkook?” you asked, “in that case, I don’t know why I’ve been going so easy on you.”

That joyous laugh of his filled the training space, already raring to go again.

“Let’s see what you got then!”

Just like that, he took off, eyes igniting yellow before he was springing from the floor and kicking off a higher block to rejoin the array of obstacles.

“Can’t fly, my ass,” you muttered, turning to take the long way up.

Even if Hobi claimed his power to be purely athletic, you still couldn’t fathom the way he navigated the skies with such ease unless some sort of gravity fuckery was involved. With a leap, you pulled yourself onto a platform, finding him already streaking ahead.

Beginning to run, you aimed your first shot at the same time as you launched over the next gap.

Blue cut through the air, Hobi’s laughter ringing out as it hit the floor he had just been standing on. By now, he was swinging away on suspended ropes.

Spyng another opening, you fired a longer bolt this time, forming a glowing barrier in the air. Kicking his legs up, Hope managed to swing and arc over it. Impressed, you cut off the attack, heart only stopping for a second as he landed hard against a ladder protruding from the wall. Though you had full faith in his abilities, it never got less jarring to see what he could pull off.

The two of you continued like that, a cat-and-mouse around the obstacles. It certainly kept you both on your toes.

As you went, settling into the movements, you took a few more risks. When in the training room, it was fun to test it out. Not to mention, knowing Hobi was this capable also boosted your confidence in having each other’s backs in a real situation.

Exhilarated from the rush of movement, you pushed yourself, sprinting and leaping over gaps and vaulting corners, an equal amount of focus on your electric offensive.

As much as you had joked with Hobi, you couldn’t bring yourself to aim with everything you had. Besides, aiming your shots to only brush the air beside him would improve your accuracy more, if anything.

In true Hope fashion, he stayed constantly ahead of you, practically running loops around the ceiling while you tried to keep up.

He leapt overhead as you pulled yourself onto a platform, making you spin to follow his change in direction. But you could predict the path he would take. Stopping for a moment, you raised your arm, lining it up to graze the soles of his trainers as he leapt towards a series of steps.

Pulling himself out of the way in time, his momentum continued his path while your bolts chased him, blue splashes in his wake.

Grinning, you finally followed him, jumping up a level and letting another shot go at the same time.

But as you landed, your feet slipped with the force, arms instinctively shooting out to correct your balance. The training room floor wobbled too far below you, teetering for a heart-stopping second at the edge.

Safely righted, you turned back to find Hobi.

Your chest tightened, heart seizing once more.

The dazzling, dangerous blue sizzled through the air, not hitting the mark you had intended. Time slowed down as Hope jerked away from it, only to fumble his footing on the next landing, only a thin ledge high on the wall.

His body slammed against it, his arms grappling for the edge he had just slipped from.

Blue collided, scorching the dark wall above him, but you could only watch in petrified terror as he started to fall. It was too fast, while your body was left frozen, powerless as he plummeted.

Somehow, he twisted, trying to kick off the wall on his way down, as you had seen him do so often. His path changed a little, velocity easing as he grasped a rope, but it escaped his fingers, unable to catch on with the speed of his fall.

He reached the floor. Rolled, half-colliding with the base of one of the scaffoldings you had just been racing around.

“Hobi!” you breathed, lungs only just beginning to cooperate.

With the newfound movement returning to you, you unthinkingly stepped off the side of your own platform, shooting blue lightning to the ground to support your descent. It wasn’t a skill you had practised much, and with the way your arms were shaking, you didn’t make it smoothly, but you stumbled onto the ground, just managing not to fall on your face.

You were already tripping over yourself to get to Hobi’s side.

He was sitting up – how, you had no idea. Somehow, you seemed the most stricken of the two as you practically collapsed at his side while he grinned around at you, rubbing his head. Was he hurt?

“Oh my goodness, Hobi, I’m so- I didn’t mean to actually-”

“Hey, don’t worry-” he tried to say, a bit breathless but still smiling. You barely heard him, though, hands quickly coming to his head where he was clutching it.

“Shit, I wasn’t looking, I shouldn’t have shot…”

Your panicked apologies accompanied you kneeling up, trying to get a look at him. Neither of you noticed the figure passing the doorway, stopping as he saw you two knelt together.

“Y/N!”

Hobi succeeded in getting your attention only by catching your wrists, stopping your hands as they fussed over him. Looking up at you, he fixed you with a firmer gaze than you were used to from him. Checking he had your attention, he placed your hands away from him and relaxed.

“I’m fine,” he emphasised, “you think you’re going to knock me down so easily? Imagine, ‘feared villain falls over in training, defeated.’”

Heart still pounding a little too much, you huffed a bewildered laugh.

Dropping your hands entirely, he sat back. You kept them there, some of the frantic energy fizzling from your body.

Grin taking up residence on his face once again, Hope leaned in conspirationally.

“I thought you would be pleased to get the one-up on me,” he teased, “you literally said you weren’t going to go easy.”

Your real challenge had been to aim near enough but not too close, but of course Hoseok didn’t know that. The precision practice you had been going for had failed, you hadn’t won!

Swallowing all that down, you half-heartedly tried to smile. You stayed kneeling opposite him, still too shaken to stand.

“Are you sure your head’s ok?” you asked weakly.

To your surprise, he laughed brightly. But then again, that was a signature Hobi response.

“Yeah, I just hadn’t bargained on a free haircut!”

Bringing his hand up back to the spot you had noticed him grabbing earlier, he pulled on a chunk of his hair, showing it to you. The lock was shorter than the rest of his hair which flopped around his head; it had been chopped off roughly, the ends singed and blackened.

You gaped, staring at it even as he let it fall back among his hair.

“See, it was only my hair, and it needs a chop,” he elbowed you, “no black hole through my heart!”

That certainly wasn’t an image you wanted. Any reminder of how close you had been to hurting your friend was unbearable, the black splotch in his hair bad enough.

You blanched, but didn’t get any further into apologising.

“Looks like she tried hard enough, though.”

Instantly, you tensed at Jungkook’s voice.

Hobi’s grin slipped a little, glancing past you. You, too, turned, finding Jungkook advancing, fists clenched at his sides. He had clearly come from working out: in his gym clothes, hair tied back but falling loose from movement. Except, in place of the animalistic vigour you knew training infused in him, his glare towards you was hard and shut-off.

It scared you more than what you had seen there before. Normally his fury burned, but now it was cold.

“Get away from him,” he ordered.

For once, nothing in you fought to argue. With the heavy weight of your mistake sitting in your stomach, you could only agree, and silently complied.

As you stood, Hobi shot to his feet quicker.

“Kook, leave it. We were training, this shit happens-”

“You were training with her?!” Jungkook exclaimed, “that was bound to end badly.”

“Then it’s my fault!” Hope pressed. He stepped towards Jungkook, but you only shrunk back from the two of them. “I asked her to join me!”

“You weren’t the one who shot you out of the air.”

“That’s hardly what-” Hobi sighed, “Kook, you’re being dense, there’s no problem. I trust Y/N.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” the younger ground back, before turning a glinting eye on you, “maybe you shouldn’t.”

You sucked in a breath at his words, feeling them lodge deep inside you like bullets. But it was your own guilt that dug them in there, the reason they didn’t deflect. He was right.

That didn’t make it sting any less.

Feeling nothing but his gaze fixed on you, you longed to escape it. Run free of the reminders of what you did, what you almost caused, and how that hurt him as well.

And so you did.

At least you kept yourself from breaking into a full sprint. After a charged moment, the tension not allowing you to breathe, you stepped desperately away, rushing for the door.

You paid no mind to Hope’s crestfallen call of your name.

Leaving them behind you, trying not to feel worse at the fact that you couldn’t even stand to face your guilt head-on, you simply blundered your way to your room. You knew some others would be in the kitchen, and didn’t want to alert them, so you forwent slamming your door.

The tension stayed crammed into your arms as you shut the door forcefully, yet painfully slowly. Your hands hovered, shaking, inches away from the wood as you stared at it, breathing heavily.

You breathed in, in, in, gasping like water was rising about your head.

And then, everything spilled out. A tide of air left your lungs, forehead falling forward against the wood, hands dropping despondently to your sides.

Among the whirlwind your life had become, you had focussed so hard on using your powers, building them, trying to prove something. Falling in and out with Jungkook, on top of this – but he had been right all along, hadn’t he? How had you forgotten the real danger this magic brought with it?

You didn’t blame Jungkook for not wanting you around the others. Gone from your mind were all the times you had shared with him and the others, head only filled with his stare. You couldn’t shake him.

That evening, you stayed in your room, not particularly feeling hungry. Or willing to face the others, more like.

You had only winced when Hoseok knocked on your door. Why should he be the one coming to you, after what you had done to him? It should be the other way around.

For tonight, you let yourself be a coward. At least you hoped the boys wouldn’t push; they never wanted to overstep. So you stayed silent, waited after he asked if you were there without giving any response. Waited until his footsteps left again.

Jimin also came past and said goodnight to your closed door, but he didn’t stop long.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and didn’t stay long. You simply seemed to get lost between the darkness in your room and your head. At some point, you thought another set of footsteps came to stop outside your door. But no one spoke.

Somewhere along the way, you must have fallen away from reality, but even then it kept knocking. You had no way of knowing just how deep into the night it was when you startled awake, throwing the tangled covers off you to escape.

You were left alone, panting and staring into the unforgiving shadows. They did nothing to erase your nightmare.

Blue shot from your hands, missing the mark. Hoseok fell, fell, body motionless. You had scrambled back, screaming, at the sight of his bloodied and pale face. The gaping black hole where his heart should have been glared at you.

Blue surrounded you, scorching through your limbs. The stench of burning filled your nostrils as sparks filled the air.

As you writhed on the floor, a row of your friends stood watching on. They didn’t move, frowning down at you. And you couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the power that forced itself from your body, striking them one by one, black burns streaked across their skin.

Last of all, Jungkook fell at your feet.

That had woken you up alright.

Itching to move, you finally decided to give up on sleep and got to your feet, throwing on a warmer sweater. Opening the door cautiously, you found only more darkness welcomed you from the rest of the house.

Still, you knew that with 8 people in one place, meeting someone was not out of the question.

You turned away from the communal kitchen, slipping out quietly towards the staircase which you followed down. On your way, you hugged your arms around you, some ridiculous fear possessing you that your powers could break free, like in your nightmares.

They hadn’t stirred, however, your control well practised. But that didn’t stop the phantom itching, memories of the ugliness your powers held.

The pain they had wrought on you when they first emerged – the pain they must have inflicted on countless others, who had never been as lucky to tell the tale like you. Were they your powers at all, not Bolt’s? But Bolt was a hero. Maybe it was you that made these powers so perilous-

Your feet hit the cool floor of the training hall.

Stilling, you stood and stared across the vast space. Cavernous in its emptiness, it sorely missed the life it usually had when the boys trained, filling it with colour.

Not really having an aim, you slowly walked to one of the adjoining spaces where you felt more apart from the world. Away from your friends. Your limbs moved like you were still sleeping, wrapped up in your head as you were.

You crossed the threshold and sighed. Then you sat, slowly sliding down the wall beside the doorway and curling into it. Retreating.

For a while, you simply breathed in the silence.

You tried to ignore the warring images in your mind. The sudden and unpredictable night when Bolt had changed your life. Back then, this power had been nothing but pain; it had tried to kill you.

But then, you couldn’t help but think of the people who had come to you when you lay alone on a dark road, burning up in Bolt’s wake. The man who the city thought was their hero had sent you off the edge of that building, not saved you. It had been a different group of heroes that came for you.

Mind wrestling with itself, you tried to reconcile the home you had been given, the safety and family that filled it, with this ugly, gnawing worry. Your group were powerful, had nothing to fear as you stood aside from the world.

But what if they should have been looking for a threat within?

You lowered your head to your hands, fingers threading through your hair and stretching, restless from this conflict.

The power that ran through these hands…

How had you grown to love it?

Staring at the floor as this thought struck you, you felt the thoughts grind to a stop. You blinked, relaxed your hands.

With an exhale, you sat straighter, bringing your palms in front of your face.

You had grown to love your power. If you threw your panic aside, you could feel…

Nothing.

No threat, no disobedience, no burn.

These were your powers. You wouldn’t let the thoughts of Bolt chase you away from them. You were in control.

Slowly, you breathed, feeling the flame in your chest ignite like sparks you were blowing to life. In no rush, you let the embers trace their way down your arms, collect in your palms and hover. Blue twined together in the air there. It wasn’t a callous beam of lightning, not aimed at anything, or anyone. Occasionally, a tendril of static would stray from its edges.

Sitting back, finally feeling some tension ease away, you gazed into the light. Neon and shadow swirled together in a globe.

This was what your friends had given you. The ability to control what could be dangerous – could. Instead, they had made it beautiful.

Your mind strayed against your will, thinking of the one person among them who had helped you shape this the most.

“I always knew you were reckless.”

Despite his words, Jungkook’s voice wasn’t harsh. Among the silence, his voice was low, flat rather than accusatory. You hadn’t heard him arrive, but his appearance seemed to come straight from your thoughts, and as such you didn’t even flinch.

You were pulled from your reverie, however.

Blinking at your still swirling orb of blue, it took a moment to catch up with reality before you turned slightly to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at you. His face was lit in pale blue, a light frown thrown into relief by this, the only light among the blackness.

His eyes bore into yours for a moment before he diverted them to the bundle of power you held in your hands, making a foreign lick of blue dance in his irises. The reflection was jarring, and you realised just how used to his warm, golden power you were.

“Reckless?” you repeated.

You saw the moment you took back his attention, his scrutinising eyes returning to you. He stepped into the space, hands buried in his pockets as he walked steadily around you.

“Do you know how much power it takes to kill? A hell of a lot less than you have right there.”

His feet fell evenly, barely audible. It was as if he fell into a short orbit of your globe, focussed intently on its presence where it hovered, its crackling surface and the light it emanated.

Then, he was opposite you, and his eyes flicked upwards. Locked with your own over the fizzing lightning.

“You had a good enough shot at it today.”

The instant his words hit, you bit down on your tongue. But you absorbed their impact, only needing to remind yourself of the energy, harmless in your palm, and the paths your mind had already been down tonight.

“That’s not what this is about,” you spoke softly.

It seemed to startle him, and he considered you for a moment. His keen gaze didn’t waver when he finally decided to press.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not shooting it at you, am I?”

His frown deepened.

“It’s not something that’s there just to look pretty. You- you need to control it.”

“Is this not control?”

He blinked. In the blue light, you saw for the first time complete surprise in his eyes, like such a thought had never crossed his mind. Always, he seemed to be steps ahead of you, but here he was stumped, lost…

Watching his mouth grapple with the ghosts of words, his eyes searching the sphere as if it would give him the answers he could understand, you softened. Instead of preparing to push back at him, you sighed.

And explained.

“It scared me. I don’t want to hurt Hope, of course I don’t. But where will it get me if I fear these… powers?”

You were aware of Jungkook’s eyes intently trained on you, but you let your powers magnetise your gaze. Staring into them, you lost yourself in their depths again.

“This could hurt someone, you’re right. It could kill you – well, maybe not you – but someone, if I wanted right now. But… I don’t. They’re mine. And… they’re beautiful.”

You sighed your last word. Maybe in a more awake state, you would have the presence of mind not to admit this all so readily to Jungkook, of all people. But just speaking the words gave you more confidence in them. You held the light steady.

Meanwhile, Jungkook had drawn closer. He looked down at you with an odd expression, more awkward with the steeper angle now he stopped beside you.

Realising his presence, you snapped away from the hypnotic light, turning to look questioningly at him.

He pressed his lips together, before making a stunted gesture with his arm.

“Can I-”

You stared blankly. A short huff left him, his frustrated gaze tearing away from you before he tried again, fixing you with a glare, as if it was your fault he was desperately embarrassed.

“Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. His question had caught you off-guard, in honesty, though you tried not to show it.

He sat in a hurry, as if it would shake off the previous moment. In his haste, his shoulder brushed your own, and he shifted away a moment later, though the distance was still small enough to feel his warmth.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

The ball of light you had formed continued to roil in mid-air, almost proving your earlier words. You were in control, and it made no attempt to break away, to destroy.

Slowly, you lowered your hand, the light dimming with it.

You didn’t dare turn around or make any move nearer to Jungkook, still staring into the semi-darkness. But as your light faded, you caught a motion of his hand. He had turned it over, and flexed his fingers in a jerky way, but as he moved them a couple more times it became almost delicate.

Refusing to turn your head, you kept your eyes on it nonetheless. Jungkook must not have realised you were watching, as he turned his hand over contemplatively a couple of times.

All of a sudden, he seemed to give up, letting it drop. For a moment there, you had expected a warm golden light to join the weak blue that remained of yours. Not about to leave the pair of you in total darkness, you let a cool light simmer from your palms, but they rested on your knees rather than raising to illuminate the space.

It only extended so far as to surround you and Jungkook. A spotlight in the otherwise sleeping house.

You heard Jungkook’s head hit the wall with a soft thud. You heard his breath in, the way it screamed of having something to say. Something he was breathing in the courage for.

But then he breathed out.

While your mind had settled considerably, the reminder of just who you were next to put you on edge again. You would never have envisaged sitting peacefully side by side with Jungkook, yet here you were.

If he was stewing on how to break the silence, however, you were expectant.

Another breath in, followed by a moment where it was held. You did the same, almost tempted enough to turn to him.

The air left him.

“Bolt’s powers aren’t beautiful,” he blurted out. His sharp words landed a blunt blow to the silence.

You let the impact dissipate, breathing in.

“No,” you replied, “they aren’t.”

It was certainly true for you, who had felt their impact. But there was something of that same pain in Jungkook’s voice, the way he spat out the supposed hero’s name.

Beside you, Jungkook shifted.

“How can you say that?”

His words were hard, but you sensed he wasn’t butting his head against you for an argument. It was a genuine question, a lingering curiosity behind his bull-headed disguise.

“Because my powers aren’t Bolt’s,” you said softly, “not anymore. He may be the reason I got them, ours may be the same colour… but they’re in me. That’s got to be as a big a part of it as the lightning itself. The power would be nothing without me, but that’s not true the other way around. I’m more than them.”

“Yeah, well, people don’t see it like that.”

The bitterness in Jungkook’s words surprised you. Brow creasing, you finally looked around at him. He, too, was frowning, but it was directed at the floor, his head bent.

In the meagre light, the slope of his cheeks were washed in your blue, the slant of his slightly downturned lips outlined in shadow.

“Do you?”

At last, his eyes turned to you. A few of his dishevelled strands fell into them, but they still reflected back that blue in their troubled depths.

It took him too long to form an answer, or maybe it just dragged out as you stayed stuck in his gaze.

“Of course not,” he muttered, all in a hurry.

He diverted his eyes, reminding himself of his surroundings, the fact he was staring just as much as you.

But they betrayed him. They darted back to you once, twice.

He dropped his shoulders, before resolutely turning to you once more. Perhaps he had more to say on that strange noncommittal answer? You could only wait as he inhaled again, steeling himself for the words to come.

“…did it hurt?”

What?

You hadn’t expected that.

Nor did you expect the sudden weakness underlying his tone. The kind that made him sound as scared as you had been today, rather than the affront of anger you were used to. The kind you knew you were only hearing because it was the middle of the night, alone.

You searched his gaze, trying to puzzle out his question.

“Did what hurt?” you asked carefully.

His gaze didn’t falter, almost pleading, as if he could dredge the answers just from looking into your eyes.

“Bolt.”

You inhaled shallowly. You hadn’t needed the nightmare to remind you of just how excruciating it had been, your memory could tell you easily enough. That kind of experience couldn’t be forgotten so simply.

“Yes,” you forced out, honest and flat.

In his desperation, Jungkook must have leaned closer. Why he had such a need to drink in your answer was beyond you; he had never brought this up before.

You had no idea what more you could say, and were quickly getting distracted, your mind pushed off track by the inescapable eyes locked on yours. Around them, his face shifted at your words, falling almost imperceptibly. But you were busy drowning, engulfed in the dark irises lit with your own blue light.

Suddenly, he pulled away, leaving you reeling back to your surroundings, feeling like you had resurfaced, gasping, from a lake.

Refocussing, you breathed deeply, calming the powers. You had felt a small spark leap further from the contained glow in your hand.

Jungkook was hunched over, his elbows on his knees and head bowed once more, thoroughly defending his face from your sight. You had no idea where the tension that wracked his frame had come from.

There was no time granted for you to find out, however. He pushed himself up, only sparing a sideways glance for the blue radiating from your hands, before he stormed away as if he had never come.

Thank you for reading! If you liked it let me know! See you next Sunday💜💜

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morgana-larkin · 5 months

Note

Hello, Idk if u're still taking prompts bc it's seems like you're working on a lot of it, but here's a rather, crazy prompt I have in mind (again) afkajdksjsj.

There's a teacher at Abbott for over a year who's somewhat a little private about her life. Particularly her love life which the Abbott staff seemed to have taken an interest of specially Melissa, who's being defensive when she's called out for being too nosey about the teacher, saying she barely knows a thing about her and it's suspicious that maybe she's actually a cop or secret agent lol. Talks of where's the next venue of game night been going around and the group decided [without the teacher even knowing] that the game night would be held at her rather, fancy house to the surprise of the staff, thinking they would see a glimpse of her priv life and finally meet her partner which is apparently non-existent and later on revealed she never had any relationship in the years of her existence, which also, surprised the group yet Melissa unintentionally let a rather loud sigh of relief and the staff and the teacher gave her a questioning look which she became defensive,again, and a stammering flustered mess under the teacher's gaze.

This was so fun to write. I think I steered a little off a bit but still stuck to what you wanted…(hopefully). I tried to make it light, fun and as cute as possible. As always not edited at all and I hope you like it!

On another note: I know I spelled Chessy’s name wrong, my phone autocorrected me and didn’t notice until I posted it. I thought no one would notice until someone messaged me anonymously about it. So I went back and corrected it. I got one more Melissa prompt and two Chessy ones, and I have started on chapter 8 of ‘Worth It’.

The Game of Love

Warnings: reader has a nightmare(small part near the end), I think that’s all…

Words: 3.3k

You walked into the break room after bringing your students to the cafeteria and headed straight for the coffee machine. You’re exhausted after the morning with your kindergarteners.

“Dear, you don’t look good. Rough morning?” Barb asks you and you chuckle.

“Ya I guess you could say that. I don’t know how you do it Barb. Keep them in line all the time, mine were acting like they had sugar all morning.” You tell her with a huff.

“You’re still quite new dear. I’ve been doing this for over 20 years. You just became a teacher 5 years ago and it’s your second year here.” She says calmly, and always the voice of reason.

“I suppose.” You tell her. You grab your coffee and your lunch from the fridge and then go to sit on the couch.

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with us today?” Janine pipes up and you look at her. You know that she wants to ask questions about your life to get to know you since you don’t tell them much. All you’ve mentioned is that you’ve been living in Philly since you were born, your parents are both lawyers, you have a girlfriend, and you got your teaching certificate 5 years ago. In reality you don’t actually have a girlfriend, you just tell people that since you’ve had many friends try to set you up with a woman and it never goes well.

“Um, ok I guess I could today.” You tell her and head over to sit with the trio. You want to open up a bit more to them. With both of your parents being lawyers, you learned to keep a lot to yourself.

“So how have you been? How’s Amelia?” Janine asks as soon as you sat down. Amelia is the name of your made up girlfriend and said you’ve been with her for 2 years.

“I’ve been good, Amelia as well.” You tell her. “How have you guys been?” You ask her and Janine and Jacob both go and rattle on about their day. While looking at Janine talk, you catch Melissa giving you a look. When Janine stops talking, that’s when Melissa chimes in.

“Hey kid, you never say anything about yourself, why’s that?” Melissa questions you.

“I just don’t talk about myself much, that’s all.” You respond back.

“Why? Why are you so secretive?” She pushes.

“I’m not secretive, there’s just nothing interesting about me.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes at you. “Why are you being nosy?” You ask her and she lefts out a huff.

“I’m not being nosy. It’s just, tell us something, like what do you and your girlfriend do on the weekend or something.” She tells you and you quirk an eyebrow at her. “If you don’t say anything, how do we know you’re not a cop or a secret agent or something like that.” She says to defend herself.

“Well I’m not either one, if you want I can show you my certificate and you can see it’s not forged. But you know both my parents are lawyers so I guess I learned to keep stuff to myself.” You say with a shrug.

“Alright.” She says.

“But to answer your question, Amelia and I don’t do much on the weekends. We’re more home bodies.” You tell her and she smiles at you and you blush a bit.

You excuse yourself early, stating you have to get your classroom ready for crafts, and the trio is talking about where game night is gonna be tomorrow night and Ava comes in to get a coffee.

“Why don’t we have it at y/n’s place?” Melissa says and they look at her.

“Wait, are you coming to game night? Cause you didn’t say either way.” Janine asks her and she shrugs.

“I never know what my plans are on Saturday nights.” She says.

“Did you just voluntold y/n’s place?” Jacob asks and Melissa smirks.

“Yep. We can surprise her.” Melissa says slyly.

“We have no idea where she lives.” Janine says.

“I do!” Ava pipes up and everyone looks at her. “What? It was on her application.” Ava says and pours a bunch of sugar in her coffee. Ava says your address and they all have their mouth open in shock.

“She lives there? That’s a fancy neighbourhood! How does she afford that?” Janine gasps.

“I bet her parents bought it for her.” Melissa says and crosses her arms.

“That would explain it.” Gregory says. “We can’t just show up at her place unexpectedly. We don’t even know if she’ll be home or let us in.” He adds.

“She just said she doesn’t go out on the weekends. And she might let us in, and if she does then we can learn more about her. You can tell a lot about a person from seeing their house. Why do you think I never let youse people over to mine?” Melissa says and they all nod in agreement.

“I’m sure she��ll let us in if Melissa was there.” Barb says with a knowing smile. Melissa whips her head around to face Barb

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She questions, confused.

“Barb you’re coming too?” Jacob asks. And Barb nods.

“My Saturday night is free.” She says, Jacob and Janine grinning. Both of them have never showed up to game night before, so the fact that they are now is exciting to the younger teachers.

“OMG, I don’t even know what game I should bring over now. Ava are you coming?” Janine says with a smile.

“Of course not, unlike you nerds, I actually have plans on Saturday night.” Ava says and walks out.

“So there’ll be 6 of us then.” Janine says.

“Oh we can always have a game that requires teams since it’s an even number.” Jacob states.

“Do you guys have a preference for a game?” Janine asks Melissa and Barb.

“A family friendly game. I don’t want to play one of those games with a bunch of sex questions and sex jokes.” Barb says.

“But those are the best ones.” Melissa says. “The less PG the better.”

“Oh how about the game of life?” Janine says. “But we can play as teams. So like you still have your own car and career, but combine income and losses.” They all agree on that and then they all leave to get their students to finish the day.

You are outside of your classroom helping your kindergarteners zip up sweaters and tie shoelaces. One of your students gives you a hug goodbye and you hug them back and tell them to have a good weekend. Unknown to you, Melissa is watching you from her door frame with a smile and soft eyes. Her class is across the hall and one classroom over so it’s pretty close and she has a perfect view to watch without getting caught. Or so she thought at least, she did get caught but not by you, but by everyone else.

The next day, you’re on your couch and wondering what to watch when the doorbell rings. You get to your door and open it and see Janine, Jacob, Gregory and Barb there there with a smile.

“Hello???” You ask them.

“Hi! We thought it would be fun to have game night at your place.” Janine says excitedly. “I brought the game of life.” And you look to see the game in her hands.

You were about to question them more as to why they chose your place without telling or asking you, you open your mouth to speak but then you see Melissa coming up to your door.

“Melissa, you’re here too?” You ask her and she smiles.

“Yep, can we come in?” She asks you and of course you can’t deny her.

“Ya come on in guys.” You say and step to the side to let them all in.

They all walk in and look around your place in awe. “How do you live in a place this big?” Jacob says and you shrug.

“My parents offered to buy me a place when I told them I wanted to be a teacher.” You say with a chuckle. “I declined at first but then the roommate I had drove me to almost wanting to stab him, so I accepted their offer so I don’t commit a murder.” You say and Melissa giggles at that. In reality everyone laughed, but the one you only really notice is Melissa.

“So where’s this girlfriend of yours?” Jacob says and you got so entranced by Melissa that your brain wasn’t processing properly.

“Girlfriend?” You ask him and they all give you a weird look.

“Ya, Amelia?” He says confused. And you suddenly remembered, although with the look they all have, you doubt they’ll believe you with whatever you say.

“I don’t see any pictures of you with another girl around here.” Melissa points out, looking at all your pictures on the wall.

“Alright, I don’t actually have one. I made her up, my friends kept trying to set me up with women and they kept not really going well so I made up a lie.” You say and Melissa lets out a loud sigh of relief and everyone turns to look at her. Melissa’s cheeks turn pink at being heard and put on the spot. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her with a quirked brow.

“Um uh…n-no not really.” She stuttered out and everyone gives a confused look to each other. Barb decides to save Melissa in that moment as Melissa is unable to speak properly.

“Why don’t we go and set up the game?” She says and everyone agrees. You go to your living room and they set it up on the coffee table.

“I have some food I can put out for snacks, I’ll just go get it. Melissa, do you mind helping me?” You ask her and she turns to look at you.

“Uh , ya sure of course!” Melissa says and scrambles to her feet.

There was 2 reasons you asked her for help, you could have asked anyone but you wanted to be closer to her and show her your kitchen. You know from being in an Italian family, she loves cooking and would probably be in awe of your kitchen. And she was, as soon as you both entered, her eyes went wide and mouth open.

“You have an amazing kitchen.” She says and you smile at her.

“Thanks.”

“You must love cooking in it.” She says and you chuckle.

“I actually don’t cook much. I don’t always like doing it.” You tell her and she looks almost offended.

“What? But this kitchen looks like it’s made to be used a lot, to be used to do so much cooking and baking. I mean I would if I lived here.” She says and she set up a perfect opportunity for you.

You get a bunch of chip bags and some dips and place them on the counter. “Well you could always come over and use it as much as you like.” You tell her and her eyes go wide.

“Really?”

“Ya, if you want. I don’t mind.” You say and she smiles.

“I might take you up on that.” She says and you smile at her. “I think you just want to have some of my cooking.” She teases you and you giggle. You have had some of her cooking a couple times over the 14 months you’ve been at Abbott.

“Well I will admit that I love your cooking but you could come and use the kitchen and I don’t need anything in return.” You tell her and she laughs.

She helps you carry all the chips and dips out into the living room.

“Alright, here’s a variety of chips and dips.” You tell them and they all smile.

You then get into teams of two. You expect for Melissa to pair with Barb and for you to end up with Janine or Jacob. Unexpectedly, Barb asks Jacob to team up, and Janine asks Gregory. Melissa gives a look to Barb and Barb just grins at her. Melissa then looks to you.

“Wanna partner up with me.” She asks and you laugh.

“Well thank you for asking, even if there wasn’t any other choice.” You joke with her and she smiles. “I would love to team up with you.” You add and she grins and blushes a bit.

Unknown to both of you, everyone planned this, for you two to team up together and so they all picked someone to team up with before you guys got a chance.

You all pick out a car to use and whether to go straight to a career or college. Jacob and Barb both pick career right away and everyone else picks college and gets debt.

“Oh look at that, I can be either a teacher or a Doctor.” You say and everyone laughs. “I feel I might be a hypocrite if I don’t pick a teacher.” You say and pick teacher and then a salary. Melissa gets super excited and is able to pick firefighter.

“OH HELL YES!” She says as she picks firefighter immediately.

“What was your other choice?” You ask and she looks.

“Uh, accountant.” She says and looks confused at that and you laugh.

Everyone is having fun playing, there’s laughs, cheering and eating. The more the night goes on, the more touchy Melissa gets with you. Now she knows that you’re actually single, she takes the opportunity to flirt with you. She side hugs you when she’s happy with a victory, and sometimes she leaves her arm there for a bit, even after her turn is done. She’s placed a hand on your leg a few times, and everytime she does that, you blush. She rubs your arm when you experience a loss, like paying for the kids for something. “Damn demanding kids. How do we have 4 of them” You say with a pout and she laughs at that. You guys got the most kids and you picked 2 girls and 2 boys, the boys being twins.

You all end up playing again with the same teams but the rule being you can’t pick the same career. Everyone that picked college last time ends up picking career path just to switch it up a bit, while Barb and Jacob pick college.

This time while playing, Melissa has her arm around your waist for half the game and the other half on your thigh. You swear that life is testing you tonight. You and Melissa end up winning both times and Melissa grins at that. After the second time, you all end up watching a movie. The group ends up picking a horror movie, despite your reluctance since you get scared easily.

Everyone is sitting on either your couch or your 2 love seats. Barb and Jacob are spread out on your couch, while Janine and Gregory are on one of the love seats. So you and Melissa take the other seat. Barb and Jacob each use a blanket, Janine and Gregory share one, while you and Melissa also share a blanket.

Since your kids were so hyper today, you were more tired than usual and you were comfy leaning on Melissa a bit. Melissa has the one arm that’s closest to you, propped up on the back of the seat, with the other one on your thigh and her body is turned to you a bit. You end up getting scared pretty early on and accidentally go to hug Melissa during a jump scare. Melissa stops breathing for a second before she puts an arm around you protectively. “It’s alright, you’re safe, I got you.” She tells you and she smiles. Everyone pretends to not notice what happened and hide a grin.

Everyone then decides to leave but since Melissa had a few glasses of wine, so you offer to let her sleep in your spare room so she doesn’t drive home drunk.

Melissa ends up hearing you scream when you awake from a nightmare and she goes over and knocks on your door.

“Y/n, it’s Melissa. I heard you screaming so I thought I’d come to check if you were ok.”

You get out of bed and go and open your bedroom door. “I’m alright, I just had a nightmare. I knew I shouldn’t have watched the movie with you guys. I’ll be too afraid to sleep now, I guess it’s good that tomorrow is Sunday.” You tell her with a small chuckle.

“Oh I’m sorry hun.” She tells you as she leans against the door frame.

“It’s alright, maybe I’ll just watch something on my phone, maybe some stand up and fall asleep again.” You tell her and she looks at you then an idea pops up in her head.

“What if I slept with you?” She says and you look at her with wide eyes and her face mirrors that when she realises how that sounds. “I-I meant in the same bed and sleep… actual sleep not sex.” She defends and you giggle. In your tired state and full of adrenaline from the nightmare, you blurt out something before your brain has time to stop you.

“I wouldn’t say no to either one of those.” You say and she looks at you surprised.

“Really?” She tells you and that’s when it hits you what you said and a huge and noticeable blush makes it on your cheeks.

“Umm, I mean , I… I-I have no idea what I mean actually.” You say and put your hand over your eyes in embarrassment. Melissa takes the hand off your face then looks at you.

“Do you like me? As in a crush.” She asks and you nod, too embarrassed to speak. As soon as you nod, she has a big smile. “Really?” And you nod again. Melissa gets really excited and kisses you. You kiss her back and you both think that it’s wonderful, you both enjoy the kiss but then Melissa pulls back when she realises she didn’t admit her own feelings, verbally anyway. “I like you too.” She says with a huge smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

You giggle at that. “I figured by the kiss.” You tell her and she smiles warmly at you. “I would love the company in my bed to try and sleep, if you’re still offering.” You tell her and she nods.

“Of course. If you want we could cuddle. I was rather enjoying that on the couch.” She tells you and you agree. You cuddle in your bed and you manage to fall asleep wrapped in her arms and a smile on your face, and your nightmares didn’t come back that night.

On Monday morning you come into the break room and get a coffee as usual. You go and sit on the couch next to Melissa to watch the news. She looks at you and smiles and you smile back at her. Everyone is looking at you guys curiously then you see Melissa looking at you with a mischievous expression. She wraps a hand behind your head and pulls you in for a kiss, you kiss her back and hear gasps from everyone. Melissa pulls back after a few seconds and you see everyone grinning.

“Well it’s about time you two.” Barb says. “I’m glad our plan to make you team up worked.” And you both look over at her with a quirked eyebrow.

“You guys planned that?” Melissa says and you smile and lean on her shoulder while she wraps an arm around your waist, still questioning everyone.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months

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Hii, I hope your day/night is going well! I don’t think you’ve ever been asked this from what I’ve seen; but do you have any idea how the NRC school system works? my pea brain I cannot figure it out for the life of me 😭 I know that they have magical subjects ofc (magical history, alchemy, etc.), and they also have the more practical ones like math (unfortunately), but they also mention having electives. I know Azul and Ace have mentioned sharing elective(s) with others, which just leaves me to wonder how many periods they have or if they rotate classes around each day if that makes sense? And on top of that, the lesson chat things of the characters (including upperclassman/people not in 1A with ADeuce?) saying they’ll go along with the schedule we [Yuu] have in mind for the day.

Sorry this got to be so long and you don’t even have to answer at all, just a question that’s been in my mind! :)

As far as I'm aware, we are not told much about how class schedules work at Night Raven College. We don't know how many classes there are in a day, or if the students take the same classes every day or have them on rotation (for example, Magic History on Tuesdays and Thursdays only). We can, however, do our best to extrapolate from what we have!

We have a partial schedule shown in the Episode of Heartslabyul manga (volume 2, chapter 8). In it, we follow Adeuce, Yuuken, and Grim through the school day and right up until lunchtime. They seem to have 3 classes (Alchemy/Potionology, Magic History/History of Magic, and P.E.) and then a lunch break. In book 7 of the game, Ace is having lunch and mentions his "next class" being in the lab, though it's not said what course that is. That line (assuming the "lab class" is Alchemy/Potionology) could imply the schedule is shuffled around depending on the day, but it's at best an assumption.

We also have an idea about a decent chunk of Azul's class schedule, if you can believe that. In 3-7, we get to see his first three periods (Music, Animal Linguistics, and Potionology/Alchemy, in that order). He then goes to lunch. This would seem to imply that all students have three periods and then a lunch break. We don't know how many periods follow after lunch, but I think a safe guess would at least another 3.

In Jamil's Lab Wear vignettes, we learn that class 2-C (Azul and Jamil) take Alchemy/Potionology after Riddle's class, 2-E, does. This means Riddle and Jade take Alchemy/Potionology or some other labwork for second period. We additionally learn in Jade's P.E. vignette that he and Riddle have P.E. for fourth period, which must be after lunch. This implies that required courses are likely taken with students in one's grade level and maybe homeroom, as this is true of Jamil/Azul and Riddle/Jade combos. This doesn't appear to hold true for electives like Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles and Poison Making/Poison Refining, which receives a mix of students.

Classes at NRC appear to be back-to-back, with everyone sharing the same lunch period. This is because we often see many of the main cast in the lunchroom at the same time (book 1 when Yuu sees students from every dorm, book 7 when the first years chat about Mickey, etc.). There aren’t big breaks in the middle of the school day aside from lunch, as far as I’m aware.

I would be hesitant about treating Lessons as 100% canonical, as the gameplay elements of TWST sometimes contradicts the lore we are given in the story and voice lines. For example, you as the player are able to put first years, second years, and third years in the same Lessons when, in reality, this would not be feasible, especially not ALL the time or whenever you want them to be merge. Some courses would have prerequisites that the first years have yet to complete, and not everyone would realistically be choosing to take the exact same electives. Additionally, second years and third years would have to be taking different sections for some subjects which cover entirely different content than what is given to first years. (For example, students don't learn about the Righteous Judge until Magic History II, which you take in your second year. This is why the first years don't know who the figure is when asked about him in Glorious Masquerade.) It’s true that sometimes there are joint classes for PE and even lab classes, but you as the player would not reasonably be able to dictate when those joint classes happened or who else is in attendance.

I'm sure that some of the information dropped in Lessons are true (ie lines from the characters' Chats and the lines they drop during the actual Lessons/when they're gaining stars). However, the things directed at Yuu are dubiously true in my eyes since the pre-Lesson lines are directed as much at the player as they are to Yuu. They're lines meant to make the player themselves feel like they're forming friendships with the boys and participating in learning with them even though this (again) wouldn't make complete sense in-universe. Yuu can't use magic, so they wouldn't be able to participate in upper-level classes which require the use of magic. They wouldn't be following second and third years to those classes. It's also nonsensical to think that the school would allow for any student to just make up whatever schedule they feel like doing on the spot for the entire year. I believe the wording is like this ("Oh, I'll do whatever you want to do, Yuu!") for Lessons to, again, give the player a sense of freedom, and feel like they're taking initiative to bond with their favorite characters.

That being said, here's what else I could find regarding NRC's curriculum:

Crewel heads the Science department, Trein the Humanities, and Vargas Physical Education.

Students are not allowed to use UMs/signature spells during class. They are, however, allowed to use general magic if directed to by the instructors.

First year students focus more on concepts and theories. The older students have classes which involve more use of magic than theory.

There are sometimes joint lessons, or classes running concurrently with one another with students of different year levels involved.

History of Magic/Magic History seems to be a required course; its materials are divided up into different sections and taught based on your year in schooling. The Righteous Judge, for example, is covered in year 2.

Flight/Flying is described as an elective class; not many Pomefiore students take it.

Alchemy is another required course; it seems to provide the base knowledge for potion making before students qualify for other more complex science electives. For example, Crewel berates the first years for touching equipment in the manga and instead has them identify plants.

Potionology (or Magic Pharmaceuticals) seems to be a potions making class.

All students must take Physical Education.

Some students remark on sharing electives with others. For example, Ace and Sebek are in Enigmics/Magic Analysis together, Deuce and Epel are in the same Flight class, Vil and Cater and Lilia take Poison Making/Poison Refining, Silver and Kalim share Astrology and Practical Magic, Jamil and Azul have Potionology, etc.)

Though all 22 NRC students have/will have an Apprentice Chef card, we don't have confirmation that they all took the elective in the main story canon. The exception is Sebek, who has a line in book 7 stating that he's glad he took the Master Chef course.

NRC offers electives like (Visual) Art and Music/Musicology, which encourages and expands one's imagination. This is important because spellcasting is enhanced by having a strong imagination.

The TWST 4koma shows us that third years are able to infuse their artworks with magic, thus bringing them to life. It seems that first and second years do not attempt this magic yet.

There is an elective called Animal Languages/Animal Linguistics, but the name is broad and doesn't specify which animals you're learning to communicate with. This appears to be similar to a real-life foreign language course.

Practical Magic involves using spell formulas in order to achieve a practical goal, such as autocleaning. This is a required subject; failure to pass means you are held back one year.

Enchanting objects is described to be a "basic, rudimentary magic" that even first years are capable of performing.

Physical Training and Swimming seem to be P.E. electives.

Electives we don't have much information about: Protection/Defense Magic, Summoning/Conjuration, Biology.

Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles is an elective designed to give the students the practical skills to provide nutritious meals for themselves. This and P.E. are meant to help keep the mages healthy and in good shape to perform their magic.

Enigmics/Magic Analysis is a mathematics-based course. Ace describes it as solving logic questions using formulas.

Ancient Magic involves reading old texts and deciphering their meaning.

Astrology involves reading the stars and using them to make predictions.

Third years must choose between Poison Making/Refining and Changes & Comparisons of Abbreviated Spells in Ancient and Modern Magic History as an elective. The latter is a lot of writing and making chronological tables.

To graduate NRC, students must complete mandatory off-campus internships in their fourth and final year; this is a structure common among magic schools. Third years attend an orientation meeting in the springtime to prepare them for the application process.

Internships begin in September, around the same time classes start. There are three periods for the internship; students can choose to remain at the same site or take up to three different internships, each lasting 3 months.

A student's internship site options will vary depending on the individual's electives, class credits, and grades.

Some internships require special technical exams and/or interviews. It is also possible that some internship sites will scout desired students in advance. This was the case for Idia, who was given several internship offers after his presentation at a cultural fair.

Each quarter, fourth years must receive an evaluation of B or higher, as well as submit a written report about their experience. A student must receive credit in at least 2 out of 3 internships in order to qualify for graduation.

There is a final exam you need to pass for graduation.

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cialovesklopp · 2 months

Text

chapter two — away we go

summary — it’s her first race and the first time she has to prove herself to the harsh world of formula one. the stakes are high and everything becomes dark once the lights are out. victory is always the highest goal and some are willing to play dirty to get there.

song — genius [ sia, labrinth, lsd ]

warnings — light mentions of drugs and child negligence

word counts — 6.5k

cia’s quick rambles — here’s part two as i’d said. i apologize again for the long wait and really hope that the next chapters are going to come out at a more consistent rate. maybe every two weeks or something. in this chapter we have first conversation with max and he is officially introduced into the series. i hope i get max right as i’ve never written for him but pls, if i get something wrong, just message me. i appreciate it.

on another note, i’ll be taking a mental health break but more to that on another post. also even though i watch a lot of f1, i don’t know shit about the engineering part and am more focused on strategy so pls don’t care much about any technical engineering information that I mention 🫶🏾

( masterlist / navigation / previous / next )

— zandvoort 2023

as if the stars had already decided on her faith and following demise, her first race, where she was to prove her skills, was zandvoort. the home of their fiercest rival and dutch lion — it was enemy’s territory. but despite their small home advantage because of max aaliyah wouldn’t let that divert her from her goal.

it wasn’t just a race and the result that mattered so much to her. all the late nights at the factory, countless hours spent in the wind tunnel were about to be showcased. and aaliyah hated failure. all that work couldn’t have been for nothing.

for her, it was her first time at the paddock and just from the way people had waited t0 see them arrive, she finally understood all the hype around elite motorsport. the paddock itself was a hive of activity, with people, who happened to cross paths with the mercedes team chef, asking for pictures. aaliyah was amazed by how easily he handled it all, it seemed so easy almost as he took picture after picture. it was a world she just did not belong to.

roar of engines, the constant smell of burning rubber and the sight of orange wherever she looked were the reminder that she desperately needed. to realize and let it sink in where she actually was. it made her heart race, knowing how much he had dreamt of this moment and now she was living it for him. every detail, from the polished pit lane to the towering grandstands packed with excited fans, felt almost too vivid to be real.

what aaliyah definitely had not expected was for her to be the new talk of the paddock. paparazzi were blinding her with their cameras, while constantly shouting at her to new questions as she walked through the paddock.

“why do you think you were chosen for this huge role?”

“are you sleeping with toto wolff to get this job?”

“how do you already have a phd?”

her breath hitched in her throat as the paparazzi shouted at her, it was overwhelming and unexpected. the sheer intensity of it all caught her off-guard as they made their way through the crowded paddock.

toto, who had sensed her discomfort pushed her behind him protectively to shield her from all the questions. “aaliyah, i need you to promise me something.”

she nodded.

“if there is anything, no matter how overwhelming, you look for me directly. don’t try to handle it yourself. i’m always right there.” there was a sense of sternness in his voice but she knew he meant it well.

and she couldn’t fault him for his protectiveness. even though outwardly she looked composed, inside she felt like a ticking time bomb, poised to explode. and she couldn’t afford to fall apart again, she'd sworn that to herself when they'd spoken about her past.

she would never go that low again.

“i know. i promise.”

aaliyah took a deep breath to get her pulse normal again and it felt like a huge weight fell off her shoulder when they finally reached the mercedes garage. they walked inside lewis’ side of the garage, past his car that had become aaliyah’s new baby and pride.

just as promised she had brought new upgrades to the car, some a bit more recognizable others small. yet they were all significant— a result of all her hard work she auf poured into. whether it was at three in the morning or during her weekly facetime with eva.

a few had doubted her suggestions at first and aaliyah couldn’t even blame them for being a bit hesitant towards her. i mean, how could they trust a girl that they had never heard of? a woman who had no experience in this area?

in the end it had been toto, who had forwarded her ideas which helped her set them through along with lewis’ persistence.

she had changed the floor and brought a new rear wing and seeing the car in front of her fitted with her modifications felt like a small victory. a small part of her promise was completed.

aaliyah put her bag on the table, that toto had directed her too and which was already equipped with two pairs of headphones. she looked knowingly at him.

“i don’t think i’m gonna need two.”

he laughed. “schatz, du bist in der formel 1 jetzt. ich sag dir aus erfahrung, du wirst zwei brauchen.” — darling you’re in formula one now. i’m speaking from experience when i’m telling you that you’ll need two

she had gotten an entire space for herself along with an office and she still had a good view of the entire garage, especially on both sides and the data analysts.

after arranging her desk, that would become her new working space for the next few weekends, toto led her further down the garage again where a man and lewis waited for them.

“aaliyah, new chief —“

“technical engineer?” bono completed for her. he held out a hand, “we’ve already heard a lot about you.”

“i hope only positive things.”

bono laughed. “believe me, this guy here,” he pointed to lewis, “does not shut up about you. and the new upgrades seem very promising. that’s some terrific work.”

she nodded, sending a small smile, that showed her gratitude. “so just to check, you are lewis’ race engineer. and george’s on the other side?”

“yep. but we all always work as a team together.”

lewis turned towards her. “have you already met the other drivers?”

“was i supposed to? i’m just here to win.”

toto let out a discreet sound, that highly ressembled a snort. “love the mindset already. exactly what we need.”

“happy to deliver. but now back to actual work,” she pulled out her laptop and showed them a board of different graphics surrounding the car.

she showed them different designs and concepts of the car that involved her upgrades and how they were supposed to work.

after they had finished going over every little adjustment she had made, the three men bid their goodbyes and went their separate ways. lewis still had to give some interviews before stepping into the car and toto was busy doing whatever team chefs were doing. it gave aaliyah some time to think of what was coming these next days.

entering the bathroom, aaliyah instantly headed for the sinks and splashed some cold water over her face. she rubbed her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror.

it felt like she was fading away, replaced by a stranger in the mirror. the reflection didn't belong to her anymore; it was as if a shadow self, with a life of its own, stood there instead. she could no longer see herself in the image before her, only a ghostly echo of what once was.

the woman in the mirror was not her. she embodied empowerment, confidence— a transformation. she was the newest chief technical engineer, a groundbreaking achievement as the youngest woman and first in mercedes’ history to hold that title. she felt every bit of that power and distinction. yet, the aaliyah in the mirror seemed like someone else entirely, a reflection separate from the person she believed herself to be. the aaliyah in the mirror was different to her.

aaliyah wondered: did she also have that constant feeling of something nagging away her soul? if she also felt the kind of pain that led to itching on your entire skin? that aching kind of guilt that was capable of weighing like the entire world?

aaliyah wondered, "did she too feel that ever-present gnawing at her soul? that relentless itch beneath the skin, that pain that bit and stung like a constant reopening scar? the guilt so heavy, it felt like the weight of the whole world?"

her therapist had already told her that she was suffering from survivor’s guilt. from living while another person found themselves buried six feet under. and there was nothing she could do except live his fucking dream as if it was hers.

“you’re going to ace this. and you’ll be the fucking best. and you’ll prove to that bitch that you deserved to be her daughter.”

whoever said that self-pep talks were a waste of time clearly never found themselves in a place where everything felt black and white. as aaliyah stepped out of the bathroom, a hint of color returned to her life—some of the confidence she'd lost after the accident. no, it wasn’t a waste of time at all.

but did she need these words? absolutely, she did. especially after her mother abandoned her, forcing her to practically disown herself. she truly did.

aaliyah had been completely lost in her thoughts, her mind going over the different upgrades she had added to the car that she did not see the person walking opposite to her. i mean who could blame her with all the commotion on the paddock? looking up and staring at everyone would be exhausting.

she only looked up from the ground again when she was met with a vast chest acting like a wall and making her phone and office map fall down.

“es tut mir so le— fuck, wrong language. i am so sorry,” aaliyah rambled, kneeling down to pick up all the papers that had fallen out, particularly those that had her sketches and designs for the car.

“oh, it’s okay. nothing happened. let me help you,” he, as aaliyah could make out, joint her on the floor. she could make out a strong accent but couldn’t exactly place where it was from. somehow that felt like a relief— at least in meant, she would never have to see him again.

he moved to pick up one of the several documents but aaliyah stopped him.

“you really don’t have to help me, this was my fault.”

he shook his head and assembled the rest of the papers, handing them to her before standing up from the dirty asphalt. aaliyah rose to her feet again and used the split second she had to get a full look of the man in front of her.

his dark blonde hair was hidden under a blue cap, matching the color of his shirt. to her, he appeared quite ordinary, much like any other man she had encountered here. however, his blue eyes immediately caught her attention—they were unmistakably familiar, and she was certain she had seen them before.

why did her mind always betray her at crucial moments like this? she had no idea. it’s like her own thoughts turned against her, and honestly, she was not surprised.

“you didn’t have to. i would have managed.”

“and get marched over by all the people here?” he pointed towards all the people around them, all going into different directions that made it look like complete chaos on the paddock.

a small grin appeared on her lips. “but this was my fault anyway. i wasn’t looking where i was going.”

“i could say the same,” he smiled at her softly. god, he was charming, aaliyah thought to herself. “is your phone okay?”

right, her phone that had shattered on the ground. “yes, my phone is fine, no scratches,” she said, though it clearly wasn’t. she had no interest in continuing the conversation, especially with someone who, upon closer inspection, was clearly wearing red bull merch—an obvious sign of the enemy.

“that doesn’t look like it. i can see the display.”

she laughed nervously. “yeah, but that’s only my business phone. i literally never use it.” at least there was a hint of truth in that.

“okay, that’s a relief. but are you su—“

aaliyah shook her head, “yes, it’s perfectly fine. sorry again and hope you have a nice day.”

he chuckled. “you too. let’s hope you don’t bump into other people anymore.”

aaliyah turned around, not even facing him anymore as she mumbled a small “yeah let’s hope so.”

she had to get away before any news outlets or paparazzis caught her talking with max verstappen. toto would definitely have her head.

she had anticipated saturday to be a busy day but actually living and being a part of it was a whole other level. the changements she had made on the car, even though only minute, had brought noticeable changes to the car. commentators had instantly noticed it during the first free practice sessions and fans had picked it up during the third one. but they didn’t connect her name to it yet.

just as the data had predicted, the w14 was responding perfectly to the improvements, with lewis even telling them on his radio that he definitely felt quicker on the straights. and the tyre management had increased significantly too.

however quali was not the same thing as free practice. which is why she nearly spent the entire night at the paddock, going over the car again. it had been toto who had forced her to leave after catching a light still being on at 2 am.

toto couldn’t know that aaliyah drove herself tirelessly, haunted by a fear that sleep would pull her back into the wreckage of that accident, dragging her into a circle of guilt from which she never seemed to escape.

maybe she wasn’t as okay as she thought. but who could be with a gifted brain treated as a nuisance their whole life? aaliyah didn’t think anyone would be.

“you ready for your first qualifying?” lewis asked her as they stood at her desk, going over the latest data.

aaliyah shrugged. “i’m not sure. i wouldn’t really describe it as nervous. i just really don’t want to fail.”

“well, you know my motto: still we rise. it’s okay to fall down once a while,” replied lewis.

she nudged him lightly although a small grin had showed up on her lips. “maybe but not on my first race. and now get into the car before your fans accuse me to have let you out too late. we need the data and a good position if we want to catch up to ferrari and those bulls.”

he lifted his hands in surrender. “understood, i’m already going.”

her eyes followed him as she watched him walk away before sitting down correctly at her desk. the entire garage was buzzing from the upgrades working and with that recent development, they had put all eyes on them. everyone was now waiting for them to actually put their hard work to show where it actually mattered: qualifying.

but she was proud, watching as the cars raced around the track, putting in best sectors. she had ordered for both george and lewis, to be firstly put on new mediums before switching back to the used soft. the same tactic had been used again, when both cars had gotten to q2. and now was the time for q3, where everything was decided.

aaliyah wouldn’t describe herself as greedy but she desperately longed for that feeling of satisfaction if the cars qualified above p5. it would be a silent, unspoken confirmation that she wasn’t so out of place as she thought.

“so lewis, we’re letting you and george out now to put a few laps down before we change tyres again to the used softs from q2 since we raced the fewest laps with them. that way we can have them for the race at the beginning,” aaliyah told lewis over the radio.

“copy that.”

the two black cars exited the garage again and aaliyah moved her eyes back to the screen. the two red bull cars were already on the track and max verstappen had already done two purple sectors. something that was not so unusual anymore from what she had heard.

george and lewis had done two laps before going back to the pit again, while aaliyah went over the gained data with the other analysts and strategists. she had already figured out that the trickiest part for the car was sector two, as it was there that the silver arrows were losing the most time. the goal was now to turn the wrong into the right.

“sector one and three are looking good lewis, try to push more in sector two,” said bono over the radio.

aaliyah also pushed the radio button. “and george, be careful. you already have track limits warnings.”

as the session unfolded, she watched with anticipation where the few changes they had taken from friday to saturday could leave them. she could see the way the two drivers were pushing the car to its limits and just like the rest of the mercedes staff, she held her breath when lewis and george were putting in their last times.

“oh my god,” she let out and put a hand over her mouth. “p5 for george and…”

“p2 for lewis,” bono told her with a huge smile plastered on his face. the entire garage erupted into cheers and applause was heard from everywhere. “the upgrades are working brilliantly.”

toto walked over to them and engulfed aaliyah in a side hug. “p2, not bad for your first race. congratulations, you did amazing. those upgrades were incredible work.”

“but this wasn’t just my work, it’s the entire team that worked its ass off.”

“still, your upgrades made this possible. can’t believe we’re actually a threat on enemy’s territory.”

“but it does feel good,” added another voice and aaliyah turned to find george walking towards them, still in his race suit with his helmet underneath his arm.

she was caught off-guard when he also all of the sudden pulled her into a hug, his face still glistening with sweat. “the car felt amazing out there. we were actually competing for pole again.”

“like i said, this was all a team effort. and you and lewis did amazing out there,” she replied modestly, her face a mixture of relief and excitement. “tell me, is qualifying always this nerve-wrecking?”

“believe me, tomorrow will be twice as hard.”

toto sent her a reassuring smile. “it’ll be okay, you get used to it. and this is the perfect start for the first race after the big summer break here. so keep up the good work and this might be every weekend.”

“what are the chances for a win tomorrow?”

“well, those red bulls are basically space rockets. their speed on the straights is unmatched. but good strategy should bring us a double podium at least,” aaliyah explained. she looked at her watch again and then at george. “by the way shouldn’t you be giving out interviews?”

george waved dismissively. “they don’t mind me coming late. all the questions will probably be about you as our new engineering wizard.”

aaliyah rolled her eyes at his teasing undertone. “my only job is to make sure that the car looks good. i don’t know what’s there to be called magic.”

“maybe but seriously, the car felt fantastic. the upgrades really improved the tyre management and this new ground speed was definitely helpful during drs.”

did her ego grow twice now after hearing it from george? maybe not. but she could not deny that it didn’t feel good, hearing that her changes were successful.

"glad to hear about that, g. now we just have to analyse sector 2 because that’s where we lose the most seconds.”

he nodded and then leaned in, lowering his voice. “can i ask you something?”

“as long as it’s not a date.”

george gasped and looked at her with an overdramatic, offended expression. “you? never. and i love carmen too much.”

aaliyah grinned. “same, can’t wait to meet her. so what did you wanna ask?”

he lowered his mouth to her ear again. “you think you could make my car faster than lewis so overtaking him will become easier?”

“are you already gossiping without me? and i thought we had a mutual agreement concerning gossip,” a new voice called out and they turned to see lewis arriving, not in his racesuit anymore and with a drink in his hands.

aaliyah smiled at him playfully.

“it wasn’t anything important anyway. and congratulations for p2.”

“wouldn’t have been possible without you. the upgrades are fantastic.”

toto suddenly clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention and interrupting them. "so, team, debrief in ten minutes and then strategy meeting for tomorrow. if we play our cards right, we can have our first win tomorrow.”

the ten minutes had only been sufficient for a small coffee break before they were expected again for the debrief.

she felt proud of herself for achieving this accomplishment and making the car better but at the same time this nagging feeling she had experienced in the bathroom earlier had not truly gone away.

specifically, after the debrief she could not stop thinking about what would happen if she failed or disappointed toto. she would have to go back to munich again, stuck in that hopeless circle of despair while trying to find her place in the world. these past weeks had given her a little taste of what she could belong to; what it felt like to have a whole safety net she could rely on again.

losing it would crush her.

that constant fear she carried around with her was also part of the reason, why even after the debrief was concluded, she stayed back to analyse some more data. george and lewis had asked her to join them for dinner but she had declined politely, wanting to perfect her work.

that constant fear she carried was like an invisible tide, pulling her deeper into her work. even after the debrief ended, she lingered, absorbed in her data, as if trying to outpace the relentless current of her anxiety. george and lewis had invited her to dinner, but she had declined politely, wanting to perfection her work.

aaliyah wanted the small taste of victory she had gotten today to last and she needed to put the work behind it. especially because the world of f1 was harsh and critics were ruthless. so she allowed herself to savor the moment but always with the reminder that it could be over as quick as it had started.

it was toto who had to drag her out of the office at way past eleven again. the sound of footsteps echoed in the empty corridor but aaliyah pushed it aside, assuming it was just security or cleaning services. she was too focused on her work, even though her body screamed tiredness, to comprehend what was going on around her.

“you do know that in order to win, we need you alive right?”

aaliyah turned around, a small yawn escaping and looked up to see toto standing in the doorway. his facial expression was a mix of concern and soft astonishment.

“why are you asking that?”

toto shrugged, stepping into the room. “i’m just reminding you. i don’t need my newest chief technical engineer to die from lack of sleep. why didn’t you join george and lewis for dinner?”

she sighed, reluctantly closing her laptop. “i thought spending the evening with some data was more appealing than some pasta.”

“and you say you love pasta?”

aaliyah feigned a look of horror. "i adore pasta but work has priorities. there was still so much to do; like i worked on our strategies for tomorrow again and i think we could apply some of these things like,” she rummaged through all the papers on the table and handed toto a messy sketch.

“for a better airflow we could amply this. maybe that will help them during sector two because that’s always where we lost the most time. and then in case ferrari is going on a similar strategy, i have developed a plan e and f that i just have to go over with the strategy crew and bono. you know, since lewis is going second.”

toto nodded, clearly impressed but there was also concern across his face. “when was the last time you slept for more than five hours?”

as she thought about his question, toto snorted. “the fact that you have to think about it says enough. come on, i’ll drive you to the hotel.”

“but what about the other—”

“anything else can be done tomorrow,” he cut her off, grabbing a part of her things. “look aaliyah, i know the f1 world is harsh but there’s a balance between life and success. working yourself to death won’t do it. so how about you let that brain of yours rest a bit?”

“i’m not tired, i’m fine. sleep’s overrated anyway.”

toto threw a quick glance at the small trash bin where he could identify three empty cups of coffee.

“but no sleep is not the goal. come on, let’s get going. don’t make me call eva.”

aaliyah rose an eyebrow. “why would you call eva?”

“she told me that in case you have one of your brain episodes, where you can’t stop overthinking, i should call her in case it becomes too much,” his eyes softened as he looked at her. “she cares about you. very much.”

aaliyah smiled softly. “she’s the closest thing i have to a family with gabriella and jan.”

“yeah, and the least i can do is bring you back in one piece to them. so come on, let’s get you to bed.”

she considered it, then smiled. "fine, this time you win.”

the two walked out of the garage together, the night air cool against their skin as they exited the paddock. the night sky was shining bright above them as they walked past all the other boxes, a small smile appearing on aaliyah’s lips when toto put a hand around her shoulder.

tomorrow could definitely come now.

race day dawned bright and clear and announced itself early in the morning with aaliyah having to wake up at eight. so much for getting more sleep. but she had to admit that she had been tired — as soon as she had entered her room, she was knocked out.

she couldn't even remember how she had gotten into her bed or when her head had touched the pillow, everything from last night was a blur.

thinking back to yesterday and how there was a clear gap in her mind made aaliyah think back to another time she had lived too. when she was just that empty person with no aspirations or goals, lacking any kind of direction and just floating through life.

her thoughts wandered back to when running the entire day on chemicals was the only way for her to survive. the only means to keep her from drowning in the weight of unrelenting expectations and emotions she was carrying with her.

but that time was over — or at least she thought so it was her past. focus was now on the future and the race.

after the dutch national anthem had been performed, the drivers went back to the garage shortly before joining their teams and their cars on the starting grid. aaliyah’s eyes traveled around her surroundings as she walked towards the w14, all the stands blurring to a sea of orange. the dutch fans had turned up proudly in their home colors to support their hometown boy.

she was relieved but also a bit surprised to see toto beside her but shrugged it off and the two walked to george’s car first after sharing a small smile.

“you here to give me a last few words?” george asked her playfully which had aaliyah roll her eyes.

“i don’t know; do you need them?”

“well, i’ve already gotten my pep talk from carmen but a few last encouraging words have never hurted,” he replied.

aaliyah patted him softly on the back. “well, russell george; i’m sure you’ll ace this. a few positions should be in the game for us. you just have to push.”

“copy that chef. thanks aaliyah,” they exchanged a last high five before she let toto talk with his driver and headed up to lewis’ car.

next to his car was the glorious rb19, the rocketship she was desperately trying to beat and outmaster. since she didn’t want to look suspicious, however, aware of all the cameras around them, she quickly turned around, giving it a last glance before focusing on the black car in front of her.

lewis was already seated in his car so she bent down to talk with him.

“are you nervous?” the british world champion asked her once they exchanged small greetings.

aaliyah shrugged. “a bit, it’s my first race. i don’t want to screw up by making a wrong choice. quali has nothing on actual race day.”

she didn’t know why but lewis somehow always understood her. they didn’t have to talk much or share many words to know what the other was thinking.

aaliyah vermutete that it was because of their struggles, that were so similar, that made connecting to each other so much easier.

“i remember my first one, i don’t think i even slept. i was so nervous and excited.”

“believe me, toto had to drag me out of here at half past one.”

lewis grabbed her hand in a comforting way. “hey, no matter what position i end up today, you did great. for the first time since 2022 i feel comfortable again in the car.”

she nodded reluctantly. “then let’s hope the car is ready for the next race. i want to experience a real win.”

“i’m sure we will be back in monza. maybe even get an actual win. but let’s focus on this race first.”

“indian on me if you make a podium.”

“already telling you now, thanks for dinner.”

aaliyah shook her head at him, a huge smile on her face, and walked back to the garage. after sharing a quick greeting with mick, she took her respective seat next to toto and focused her eyes on the screen in front of her.

a quick glance at the time told her it was only one minute till the lights went out. one last round till it actually started. whether she succeeded or failed, the press would know her name by the end of the day. aaliyah still had to choose if that was a good or bad thing, the entire scrutiny she would be living under now.

“now the magic happens,” whispered toto.

the formation lap had ended and all the cars were in starting position. three lights had already gone out.

“i hope i used the right spell.” the lights were finally out and with it, the race started.

lewis managed to gain the lead in the first ten laps, overtaking max at the start, but it was clear to aaliyah, after a quick look at the data, that he wouldn’t be able to hold that position.

george on the hand seemed to do well with his mediums and had moved up to fourth place after overtaking charles leclerc. both drivers had been set on the same strategy to maximize the gains and maybe have a double podium so aaliyah left them some time, choosing against putting them.

“how many seconds could we gain if we pit george now and try to undercut the norris?” toto asked her when the gap between george and norris came down to 3 seconds.

“depends on how his tires are at the moment. for now, none of the top six have boxed yet,” she looked at george’s times and then at marcus, his race engineer. “tell him he can push a bit more and close the gap to norris.”

marcus looked at her with curiosity. “and when do you want to box him?”

“we will undercut the moment he is close enough to overtake. that way norris will push his tires and when he boxes, we box lewis too. that should stop an undercut on us.”

he nodded. “so plan c it is.”

aaliyah pressed the radio button for lewis. “so lewis, i just wanted to inform you that we’re going for plan c.”

“copy that.”

“how are your tires?”

“i still have grip so they’re okay. i can still last on them. by the way is the indian you promised me vegan?”

“i don’t know, i haven’t looked for a place yet. you have to win the podium first.”

“copy that.”

aaliyah looked down to hide her grin and rolled her eyes, clearly amused by lewis.

just as she had predicted, mclaren did call in lando norris the moment they realized the undercut that had been performed on them. and it became even more unfortunate for them when they saw lewis being called in right after them for a set of hard tyres.

the rest of the race went in their favor even if they couldn’t compete for the win. after they had completed the pit stop, lewis had regained second place again and george had moved up to third with the undercut clearly working. and the latter had created such a big gap afterwards to norris in fourth place, that it had given them an extra pit stop which they could use to box for soft tyres and chase after the fastest lap.

so although max verstappen had still claimed victory on home ground, aaliyah wasn’t disappointed. it wasn’t happiness she was feeling; more like content. satisfaction to her avoidance of failure.

and she could add gratefulness to it when she watched lewis and george on the podium steps, happily raising their trophies in the air. the cheers from the mercedes garage were deafening, the joy contagious as they celebrated their success. one could even think that it was them who had won.

while the rest of the team went to greet the two drivers and get ready for the podium celebration, aaliyah stayed back. she had already congratulated lewis and george on the radio and could talk to them later after the prize giving ceremony.

as she placed back her headphones, toto walked up to her. he smiled at her knowingly and without warning pulled her into a hug too.

“you did great this weekend. this wouldn’t have been possible without your work.”

“this was teamwork. and it was just my first weekend. monza is going to be different.”

he smirked at her. “already memorizing the calendar?”

“i like to be prepared. i have to outsmart the competition.”

“and how do you feel? do you feel that rush?”

aaliyah nodded. “it’s like lewis told me. the whole reason this sport is so endearing is because it keeps you alive. like a drug.”

she wished she had been addicted to that and not the whole chemical stuff she had snorted up her nose to feel alive.

“yeah, it’s like that. man hat seine höhen und tiefen in diesem sport. aber deswegen ist es wert.” — you have your highs and lows in this sport. but that’s what makes it worthwhile.

aaliyah smirked. “i’m going to crush them. today was good, a sweet taste but i can do more; do better.”

toto patted her on her shoulder. “i’m excited for your future work.”

“it’s going to be brilliant.”

even though they had just celebrated another win, the vibe in the red bull garage was the complete opposite. it wasn’t sad in the garage — everyone was still buzzed and cheery because of the good weekend, but there was an air of caution also in the air. there was a distant taste of urgency in the air that had not been addressed yet but could not be ignored any longer.

because now an actual threat, that they had thought could be ignored, had risen again.

and christian horner wouldn’t be who he was if he hadn’t already thought about the measures they had to take to make sure to stay on the top. he had watched the race data repeatedly, analysed it again after the podium ceremony and each time, it worried him more when he looked at the times from the mercedes cars.

the rb19 had been the quickest car on the grid again but the margin to the other teams became smaller and smaller, each race that passed. and somehow mercedes had done an incredible jump and had even surpassed the ferraris, concerning closing the gap to them. they may still have their rocketship but it was clearly looking like mercedes was making the transformation from jet to rocketship too.

taking a deep breath, his eyes travelled the room before they finally fell on the winner from today’s race and sergio perez, his second driver. both had already finished with their media commitments and horner motioned for them to follow him into his office. the two drivers followed, both clueless about what had their boss not enjoy the victory party.

his office was neat, clean and strictly organized. nothing was out of place and no item that stood in his pristine office was not without a reason in its place. trophies, helmets and photographs could all be seen in the background, either on shelves or hung on the wall. max and sergio both took a seat and looked at christian expectantly.

the red bull principal shut the door before joining them at his desk. he let out a sigh. “so. i hate to bring this up now, especially after such a fantastic and productive day but i fear there’s no path to escape what is coming.”

“is something wrong with the car?” asked checo.

“not in that way. however mercedes have apparently gotten their things back together because the upgrades they’ve brought are working,” he explained to them. “we got off the hook today as i think they didn’t want to risk a few grid penalties but monza could become difficult.”

max let out a small scoff. “we have the best car on the fucking grid. and who cares if we don’t always win with a one-lap-gap. as long as we win and win the constructor’s championship, everything is fine. it’s too late for them too catch up.”

“but they were incredibly strong today. things could have gone slightly different today. they were not playing and from what the data shows me, their ground speed has improved a lot too. they are catching up and quick,” he argued frustratedly.

max shrugged, not really seeing what there was to worry about. because even if the car wasn’t the best anymore, he was still the best driver and he didn’t need the fastest car to win. he was capable of winning with the second fastest car; he had done it before. “we’ve got adrian. and hannah is also the best. we are still unbeatable and the championship is practically decided too.”

“but we shouldn’t ignore that we can’t race too comfortably anymore,” checo replied, agreeing with christian.

“exactly. something is telling me that these next races are going to be tough. today wasn’t just luck for mercedes.”

max leaned back in his seat. “okay, and what do you want us to do?”

christian looked between the two drivers. “i know that mercedes brought a new chief technical engineer on board.”

checo nodded. “yes, lewis did mention something about a new engineer and the ideas had been her idea. apparently she’s the one making a difference there.”

“and i want you two to spy a bit on them and see what you can find out. find her, try to talk to her. i’ve never heard of her so she must be new to the sport which means she’s also more prone to making mistakes.”

checo spoke up. "but we don’t want this to become another spygate."

“of course not. i’m not saying, find her and instantly bombard her with question. be subtle and smart about it,” he turned towards max. “use your charm. maybe she’ll slip something. from what i saw, she’s young.”

he was still very displeased with the idea but gave in at last. “fine, i’ll see what george could tell me amybe. but i don’t really think this is necessary.”

“maybe we’re overreacting but from what i heard, they want to bring in another set of upgrades to monza and if those work, the victory might as well be theirs.”

“don’t worry we got this.” they reassured him before leaving the office to join the festivities outside again. christian watched them go and leaned back in his chair. while he had deep trust in max and checo, some things had to be done alone. especially in formula one, where everyone was a shark, holding out their nose for the smell of fresh blood.

off the track, they may all be friendly with each other but on it— that was the hunting ground and playing nice ended in nothing. no one could truly succeed by always playing by the book. those were the risks that made the sport so thrilling and alive.

digging was only the first of the things he would be doing to get behind whatever mercedes were planning. getting his hands dirty was the least of his worries if it meant staying on top. it’s only too bad, that the same truth that brought him to the top could get her six feet under.

#max verstappen x black reader #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen series #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x black oc #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x black reader #f1 x female reader #f1 fanfiction #mercedes amg petronas #mercedes f1 #george russell

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devilishmango · 5 months

Text

The Story of Sin [UPDATE 4/27/2024]

Find the demo here. Link to the main post here.

Hey guys!

Welp, I finished the chapter just in time for this month’s update. 😅 I really liked this chapter, though… Things are starting to not be ok for Sin, mentally, and I always love writing things like that

In this chapter, you…

Pick up that small creature! [And NOT hurt it!! Good job!! 👏]

Hang out with Murmur for a bit and learn a bit more about yourself

Hurt Murmur’s feelings :( [It’s ok, you can apologize!]

Have another strange dream

Upset Will. :( [It’s ok again! You can apologize… Eventually.]

Hang out with Murmur and Anya for a bit.

Some things- I’m slowly changing the look of the whole game. Now that some ✨THEMES✨ are settling in, I’m able to actually make the IF look a little prettier. I have some other art I will be adding later, when something in particular happens in the story, so get ready for that as well! [Also, this is random, but I realize that I’ve never mentioned this… The beautiful hand/forehead model for the SoS banner is my lovely little sister. Just wanted to throw that out there! 😂] I am also introducing a secret stat 👀 I’m not entirely sure how I want it to look on the stat page, so right now it’s just a number that will either go up or down depending on some of your choices. So, until I figure out how I want it to look…… Enjoy just a random number on the stats page. 😂

Also! If you are interested in being a beta-tester/proofreader, please send me a message on tumblr. Or, if you don’t have a tumblr, just send me an email. [email protected] Please only message me if you are serious in beta-testing or being a proofreader. I’m not really picky about how much experience you have, but I do want people who would actively be helping me correct things like grammar, bugs, coding errors, etc. Oh! Also, you will need a discord account to be a beta-tester or proofreader. That’s the only requirement!!

And, since it’s been a hot second and I have a lot more followers now… If you are able to, and like my art/works to the point that you would like extra content, please consider becoming a patron, or buying me a kofi! I know times are tough right now, so it’s totally fine if you can’t donate anything. But even just sharing/liking/commenting/etc. Are other ways you can help support me. But, if you do have a few dollars you can spare a month, I have tiers on patreon ranging from $1-$5- you get extra content that you can request, and early access to updates and whatnot!

One more thing! I was just able to get this month’s update done, but I definitely think May’s update might not happen. 🥺 Midterms are next week, AND I’ll be going on a small vacation to Portland, OR. for about a week at the start of May… So I may not have enough time to put together the update for next month! I’ll let you guys for sure when the time comes, but I just wanted to let you know now in case it ends up happening! Thank you for being patient and understanding. ☺️

See you all next update!

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 45,725 52,969 [+7,244]

#interactive fiction #if #twine #itch.io #twine interactive fiction #update #The Story of Sin #SoS

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askinkiskarma · 1 year

Text

Cruel Summer | Chapter III: Clean

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, friends-with-benefits, mutual pining, some Spider x Reader, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: You and Neteyam learn to navigate life without the other.

A/N: Hey besties, I’m sorry that this took so long, but I’ve honestly been struggling a little on this website, and it’s taken quite the toll on me. It’s been a weird week(?), in which although I’ve never received more followers and more notes etc., I’ve also never felt more alone, and more disconnected from the platform and the people in it. I think you will be able to tell in the chapter as well. When I was posting the Cardigan series, although I had a lot less followers, I felt like people genuinely enjoyed/connected to the story, and I just don’t really feel that way anymore, and I think I’m still learning to deal with it. Anyway, personal issues aside, I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I think it’s only going to be another couple chapters in this story. I might however make an alternate ending to it? I’ve also had some inspiration for Midnight Rain Part II, and thank you so much for being patient with me with that story, it took me a while to understand what I wanted to do with it, as I wasn’t planning on it having a second part initially. Ramble over, I promise.

enjoy besties ily xoxo

: ̗̀➛ listen to Clean here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

The drought was the very worst

When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

It was months and months of back and forth

You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore

“Come on… open the door, please?”

Lo’ak’s voice was pleading and saddened, and so were Kiri’s soft sobs, but you pretended you couldn’t hear them, not their tone nor their words, because hearing them meant acknowledging it and you couldn’t. You couldn’t acknowledge them, or the previous few that tried. Not Jake, not Norm, not Neteyam. Definitely not Neteyam. You couldn’t open that door, because if you did, you would crumble at their feet, you would beg and scream and thrash, and you didn’t want to do any of those things. The anger you felt for all of them, each and every one of them was strong enough to drown any other emotion, any emotion other than overwhelming hurt and anguish that was threatening to tear you apart with each passing moment that these people were standing outside your door, every moment that passed in which they were still leaving, still leaving you behind, leaving you alone.

You were all alone. No matter how many years you have spent by their side, no matter how much Jake promised you were as much their kid as the rest of them, no matter how many hours and days and months and years you have spent stuck to Neteyam like glue, it was all in vain. It was all fake. You would never be a part of their family. All these years, you were just a family pet, that they would pass on to the next owners when the situation called for it. This thought was fuel enough for a new set of wailed cries that you tried to muffle with a hand over your mouth. It took a while, but eventually, they left you to your own devices, left you to deal with the mess they made, a mess you’ll never forgive them for. Never forgive him for.

At the dawn of a new day, the dreaded day, a new knock, more timid and timed bellowed, and the sound rang painfully in your ears.

“Kid… they’re leaving. They really want to say goodbye to you… they all do. Tuk is crying, she’s saying you’re mad at her. Just… just please come out, honey, ok?”

Tuk…

“Tuk can come in. But that’s it.” You hoped Norm couldn’t make out how hoarse and broken your voice sounded, and hope he couldn’t tell that you cried so much in one night that you blacked out from dehydration, only to be woken up by his announcement.Sure enough, a few minutes later, Tuk came in through the door you just unlocked. You tried to wash your face and look a little more presentable, but as you took one swift look in the mirror, you knew it was pointless. You just prayed Tuk wouldn’t notice.

“Come in, baby.” She ran into your arms and fastened her arms around your neck, and you were always shocked at how she was just as tall as you, and somehow even stronger.

“Sister! I thought I wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye.” She was crying, you realised, as her hot tears spilled down your back, getting absorbed in your cotton top.

“Of course you would, baby. I am so sorry. I’m so sad that you’re going, so I needed some time, but I would never let you leave without telling you how much I’ll miss you, and that I love you so, so much. You’re the best little sister anyone could have ever asked for.” Her high-pitched cries tugged at your heart painfully, but you knew you had to be strong for her. She didn’t deserve any of it, any pain or hurt, anything other than pure bliss.

“I love you, too! I want you to come with. Why can’t you come with?”

You tried to ignore the way your entire body felt like it was being put through the meat grinder, and just focused on her, on her tears and her soft little hair that you caressed gently, and the way her head fit so well in the crook of your neck.

“Because I’m human, baby. And where you are going, they wouldn’t like me. I wouldn’t fit in. But baby, look at me.” You brushed the unruly braids out of her face and her tears from her cheeks, giving her the biggest smile you could muster. “This isn’t goodbye forever. I will see you again soon, and I can’t wait to hear all the adventures you’ve had and all the memories you’ve made. I’m so proud of you, you know? One day, you’ll outgrow me, and I’ll get to watch you be the most amazing warrior ever, just like your mummy is. And I’ll still be your biggest cheerleader, and I’ll watch from the bleachers, like in the movies, do you remember?”

She nods half-heartedly, but her face lights up a little, and you think the worst is over.

“Come, I’m sure everyone’s waiting. I will miss you, sweet girl. Be safe.”

You kissed her forehead and both of her cheeks, and with one last hug, she left.

They left. He left.

Hung my head as I lost the war

And the sky turned black like a perfect storm

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

“How does it feel?” Neteyam watched as you eyed his queue, that was leisurely hung over his shoulder, a glimmer of curiosity in your eyes. He’s noticed you doing that for a while now, and when you were kids, he’s let you touch it once or twice, but it’s been years now, and the situation was no longer applicable. You were no longer just a friend, not quite a mate, somewhere in between, something undefined and awkward, something you didn’t talk about unless absolutely necessary.

“How does what feel, Vol?”

“The Tsaheylu. Connecting to another animal, another Na’vi. How does it feel?”

“I thought you knew about from all your little books.” You rolled your eyes and huffed annoyedly.

“Yes, I do. I know the theory. I know you use it to connect to other beings, to Eywa, I know you can feel each other’s emotions. I know all of that. But how does it feel?”

Neteyam thought about it for a long time. How was he supposed to describe something that was so natural and so quintessential to his life, to his existence, to someone who would never be able to experience for themselves?

“Do you know how sometimes we look at each other and we kind of just have a whole conversation just with one look? Because we know each other so well now, that words are not really necessary? Vol… I know everything you think, and everything you feel. I know you so deep in my soul, it’s hard to separate my own feelings from yours, my own thoughts. You’ve become so essential to my being, it’s like you are a constant part of me.”

He suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed at the confession, and felt like he overshared something that may have been better left unsaid.

“I mean, I-“

“I know what you mean.”

You sighed and got closer to him, and you moved until you were in his lap, in your own little bubble of safety and comfort. It was your favourite place in the world, you once told him.

“I know what you mean too well. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell where I stop and you start.”

He felt relieved at your words, relieved to know you understood and felt the same. That you got him.

“Well, there you go. That’s kinda how it feels like.”

“But, how does it feel like? When you mate with someone, does it amplify the sensations, does it… make it better? Make it so you never want someone else ever again?”

The saddened, desolate tone of your voice told Neteyam that you were moving into uncharted territory, that this conversation was taking a turn neither of you were ready or skilled enough to navigate safely. He didn’t know what was the right way to answer something like that. Because the truth was that yes, from his understanding, it did make it better. It made it more intense, more special, it made it everything. There was a reason Na’vi had sex with however many people they wanted, but only bonded with one. It was the bond that separated a sexual experience from a mating experience, from something you would only ever wanted to experience with just one special someone. But he couldn’t say that to you. Not when you didn’t have this ability and never will, not when he knew how much you wanted it, not when there was nothing neither of you could do about it. So he considered a different approach.

“Do you want to touch it?”

Neteyam’s never allowed anyone near his queue before. No Na’vi would. The kuru was for themselves, for their mates and for their mothers as infants. It was the most sensitive and intimate part of them, and so naturally, Neteyam was a little uneasy and nervous. But he trusted you. He loved you. He was in love with you, and would have given anything to mate with you, but maybe this will be enough.

He laughed softly at the way your eyes widened in shock. You understood the implication of what he was asking you, and that scared you both. But still, almost bashfully, you nodded, a soft warm loving smile taking over your features. You softly reached for it and brushed your hands over the length that was draped over his shoulder, a touch so soft, so minuscule that it was barely there, but Neteyam’s whole body shuddered, goosebumps instantly appearing throughout his whole body. You quickly removed your hand, and looked guilty as you spoke.

“I’m sorry. This was probably a bad ide-“

“Hey, stop.”

Neteyam couldn’t help his fingers as they reached out and stroked you face and jaw, making their way down your throat and collarbone. He smirked a little when you shivered under his touch.

“See? Did that feel bad?”

You smiled and shook your head gently.

“It doesn’t feel bad. It’s just… new. But I want you to do it, Vol. I want you to do it.”

A little unnerved, you resumed your inspection of his braid, grabbing at as gently as you could and bringing it up to eye level.

“The hair here is softer.” You mused, almost to yourself. “I love that.”

Slowly, you moved downstream, until eventually, you reached its end, and gasped slowly as the pink tendrils came into view, moving a lot more erratically and enthusiastically than they normally did.

“Why are they doing that?”

“Because of you, Vol.” he said through panted breaths. He was experiencing a range and intensity of emotions he never had before, never in his life. The things you were doing to him, that only you ever did to him, the feelings you evoked in his mind and body, were now intensified a thousand fold, and he was crumbling under their weight.

“It’s doing that because my body feels you. Feels what you’re doing, knows who you are.” He hesitated before speaking, but he needed to get it out, he had to get it out. “It’s doing that because it knows I’m close to someone it… it wants to mate with.”

You removed your hand from him almost like his queue burned you. Your face contorted in a frown and you were struggling to push tears back in your eyes.

“Oh. Well, unfortunately, that’s never going to be able to happen, so…” You removed yourself from his lap and started turning your back to him, but he caught you and held you in place. You were almost face to face like this, which Neteyam was happy about. He had to look into your eyes to get his point across. He had to look into your eyes to get the courage needed to say this.

“Ma Vol, it doesn’t matter.” You scoffed, and the small movement of your head spilled unwanted tears, that you quickly brushed away with your thumb.

“Hey, look at me. Please?” You did so hesitantly. His thumb was caressing your face, your jaw and lips.

“It doesn’t matter. Do you not understand, Vol?” He moved his hand to rest on your chest, above your heart. “I can feel you. I can feel everything you feel. I can feel feel it like I’m going through it. When you’re sad, I’m sad. When you’re happy or shy, or anxious or scared, when you are annoyed or excited, I feel it all. You see? It doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t you get it? It never mattered. Not with you.” A small moan escaped you at his words, that he knew you needed to hear, and he needed to speak out loud. He didn’t know what would happen, didn’t know if he should have, but as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, harsh and needy, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

There was nothing left to do

When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room

So I punched a hole in the roof

Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you

Neteyam woke up with a mean headache, and he felt almost hungover. He always did these days, pain seeping through every dimension of his life, of his body and mind. The dreams were unrelenting, and they stung each night, so many memories, so many moments he wished he could go back to, that he wished he could relive… that he wish he could forget. It’s been weeks, yet your final interaction still haunts him. How could it not? He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. Nineteen years of friendship, of being each other’s safety net were swiftly thrown out the window in a split second, and Neteyam found it difficult to cope with the gap you and your presence left behind. There was so much that had to change for him, it felt like every day was a new life he never asked for and didn’t want, but was forced to live through regardless. A strange purgatory, one with warm breezes and crystal clear water and golden sandy beaches. Probably not the worst of purgatories, if Neteyam was honest with himself, but even Heaven could easily feel like Hell under the right circumstances.

“Ok kids, remember, no getting into trouble. Go meet Tsireya and Aonung and train. Pull your weight. Neteyam, once you’ve mastered the ilu, Tonowari said you can start learning how to tame the tsurak. Now let’s go show the Metkayina how the Omatikaya do things, alright, kids?”

“Yes, sir.”

Neteyam walked alongside his siblings to the meeting place they’ve been training every day for the past couple of weeks. As it turns out, the Metkayina can hold their breath underwater for up to 15 minutes, their bodies physically adapted to allow them to, and well… the Sullys couldn’t. So there was a lot of breathing training, on top of swimming lessons and ilu riding practice. Neteyam was frustrated to have to start anew, frustrated that he couldn’t fly every day, the way he has grown accustomed to for the past 6 years since completing his Iknimaya, frustrated that he went from being the future Olo’eyktan to a novice, to a nobody.

Despite everything, he tried. That was in his nature. He would always try, he would always give his best, and he would always make the best out of a bad situation, because that’s who he was. That’s who he had to be. The move left him broken and unmoored, with no purpose and no home, but Neteyam would still keep going, because his family depended on him, and that knowledge alone was enough to keep him afloat just a little while longer.

Neteyam couldn’t help be jealous of his little brother, who not only adapted, but he did so almost instantly. The new place felt immediately like home to the boy who has always felt alone and misunderstood, like a pariah and an outcast. It was the same here, yet somehow, the presence of the Olo’eyktan’s only daughter seem to lessen the blow and make him want to try harder than he ever has before. His breathing technique was better than all of theirs, except Kiri's, most likely due to the extra lessons he was getting every day from Tsireya. Neteyam was proud of Lo’ak, he really was. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of annoyance that once more, whilst Neteyam was plagued with insurmountable challenges and continuous sacrifices, Lo’ak once more got everything he’s wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He just wishes sometimes life could work out in his favour the same way, at least once. At least in one aspect. The one aspect.

The days were long and tedious, but every day something happened that he wished he could tell you about, that he wished you could experience. You loved water. He could just about imagine your face, your thoughts, your every expression, every sound you would make, every undulation of your voice. He could imagine taking you to the mangrove forest and finding a spot just for the two of you, your screams of pleasure drowned by the greenery and the sounds of exotic birds. He could see you taking your mask off despite his complaints, and kissing him, deeply and passionately, smiling as his tongue explored your body, as your hands explored his.

He missed you. He wondered if you missed him too, or if the hatred that probably fuelled your days prevented you from doing so.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

“I’ve missed you.”

You were a mess of tangled limbs on your bed, Neteyam’s warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket, much more so than the one currently covering you both. His voice was thick and laced with languor, and so sweet, it was making your eyes flutter closed in bliss and soothing relaxation.

“I’ve missed you, too, Teyam.”

Neteyam’s large hand cupped your face, lifting it gently so he could meet your eyes, smiling softly as he did.

“Ma Vol… are you happy?”

Neteyam’s loaded question took you by surprise, and woke you from your near-sleep. You thought about it for a while, pondering the weight of the word. Happy. Were you happy? Happiness was such a strange, abstract concept to you. On one hand, yes, you were. So, so happy. In this moment, you were happy. In every moment you were in his arms, every moment he laughed at your silly jokes, or watched you intently as you spoke about your day, in every moment he was just who he was, your best friend, your confidant, your boyfriend and mate for all intents and purposes, except the one that mattered most. And there was the flip side, the ugly monster, that was ever-present and following you everywhere you went, marring even the most serene, the most beautiful, the happiest memories. The truth. The truth was the antithesis of happiness. Because the truth told you that one day, Neteyam would up and leave you, and when he did, your life as you have come to know it for 19 years will change. Because let’s be honest. Not only will you lose him as a lover, as an unofficial boyfriend, but you knew you would lose him as a friend. You knew that whoever it was that would be his mate would not approve of your friendship, and that, in time, even that will dwindle and fall apart, leaving you completely on your own.

Still, all of that was far away in the future in your mind, and telling Neteyam any of it meant admitting feelings you shouldn’t be harbouring to begin with, so you settled for a white lie. A harmless lie. A necessary lie.

“I am, Teyam.”

“Are you?”

“Right now, I am.”

“Good. Because so I am. I know it’s strange. I hate this place, you know. So many horrible things have come out of it, so much hurt and pain and death, but somehow, being here with you… this room, this bed. Somehow it feels like home. And I think it’s you. I think you’re my home.”

You tightened your grip on his body and didn’t say anything as you allowed yourself the respite of his words, and the hope of tomorrow.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You woke up in pain, and crying, as you did most nights these days. You were slowly losing hope the nightmares would ever stop, that his face would ever be erased from your mind, both conscious and unconscious, tugging at every strand of sanity you had left, any shred of self-preservation still keeping you going. It’s been long enough that you thought the pain should have subsided by now. Long enough that maybe, just maybe, the world wouldn’t be as dark and gloomy anymore, that maybe while not the whole sun, but at least one ray of it could penetrate the ice that wrapped around your heart, slowly thawing it. But your world was still dark and filled with dim shadows and water that was slowly filling every chamber of your heart and lungs, slowly drowning you.

You got out of bed with a sigh and turned on the shower, water so hot it felt almost scalding on your skin, the only way you showered these days, the only way it was bearable, the only way. Because this way, in your mind, little by little, every inch of skin on your body he ever touched was slowly melting away, and in time, all the cells that died would be replaced with new ones, and in time, your body will be rid of his imprint and then, maybe then, you could finally be free.

You made your way to the dining area, determined to be a productive member of society at least to some extent today, determined to not spend yet another day in bed, replaying the same 10 songs that only made you sadder, or the same show that you have seen so many times you have memorised by heart. Most of the humans and Avatars were there, enjoying some breakfast prior to a long day ahead. There was yet another attacked planned today. Tarsem was a good leader. Strong and capable, unrelenting in his quest to impede as many of the human developments as he possibly could. He was not deterred by the Recoms and he had faith in Eywa’s ability and desire to protect her world and her people, and so far, he has been right. Even with Avatars, they have not been able to find the new Omatikaya base of operations, and you have even found some of them dead in the woods, mostly likely as a result of an attack by all the ikran that lived in the mountains.

“Morning, honey.” Max sent a wide smile your way, that you tried your best to reciprocate.

“Coffee?” The words were music to your ears. You’ve only tasted coffee a couple of times when you were young, before the provisions depleted, but now, with all the trains and helicopters that the Na’vi and Avatars managed to take down, the stronghold had plenty to spare once more.

“Yes, please.” Norm poured you the magic liquid and took a sip of it himself, sighing happily to himself.

“You know, it really does suck that the humans came back, but my God, this is definitely a silver lining.”

You chuckled a little.

“I doubt the Na’vi will see it that way, Norm.”

“No, but outside of coffee and burgers and all the other human things we’ve missed, Tarsem is incredible, kid! We have so many lab supplies, reagents and equipment that we are still trying to unpack, categorise and put together. It’s incredible all the stuff they brought with them. It’s almost like all the stuff we used to do on Earth, they’re trying to bring here. Who knows what we could do with all of it?”

“After breakfast, I can help you with it. This way we can go through it faster and figure it out?”

“That’d be great, kid.”

“Where’s Spider?”

“He’s training with the Olo’eyktan and his men. You know? Tarsem loves him!” Norm laughs heartily. You raise an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, kid! Turns out 19 years of training with Neteyam and Lo’ak under Jake’s supervision really did make him quite the fighter. Now, he’s obviously never going to be able to take the Iknimaya or be one of the people, but Tarsem sees a true warrior in him. Can you believe that?”

You couldn’t really, but you also couldn’t help the swell of pride that overtook you. It was nice to know there was some hope for the humans in the clan after all.

“Why don’t you go with him? You’ve also trained with the kids growing up. I know you split your time between that and being in the lab, but kid, it’s worth a shot. There’s a whole life out there waiting for you, and this way, you get to feel more integrated with the village. This is what you’ve wanted all your life, isn’t it?”

Yeah, you thought bitterly. A different life.

Despite everything, you took Norm’s advice, and spent your time training with Spider and the Na’vi warriors, deepening your understanding of guns, practicing bow and arrows and even learning hand to hand combat from the human Avatars. In the spare time, you helped in the lab, doing experiments and organising all the overwhelming amounts of new things you were receiving from all the raids. It was a good distraction, and it kept you busy sun up til sun down, each day, every day.

You and Spider got closer by the day, even closer somehow than you used to be. You cleaned his wounds and he helped clean yours, although he didn’t know much about how to do it, but in time, you taught him and you enjoyed the feeling of another person helping you, another person healing you. You almost felt the edges of the gaping hole in your chest start to close when you spent your days together.

But no amount of distraction could really keep the nightmares away when they wanted to come and haunt you in the night.

Ten months sober, I must admit

Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it

You woke up panting, crying and tugging at your night gown in an effort to make the pain stop, the gaping hole in your heart that hurt still as badly as that first day, that never seemed to get any smaller, that refused to heal. You barely registered the door to your bedroom sliding open with a soft whoosh, but jumped when you noticed a dark figure approaching you slowly.

“Spider, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry. I just heard you scream, I was worried about you.”

You looked at Spider, your eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out his beautiful face and his dreads that were getting longer by the day. He needs a haircut, you decided mindlessly. You had to admit his presence was soothing to you, his presence in this room that only Neteyam truly ever came in, that only Neteyam ever slept in, that only Neteyam knew as well and intimately as you did. But Neteyam wasn’t here. Neteyam would never be here again. You winced at the sharp burst of pain that shot through you at the thought.

“I’m alright. Thanks for asking. Just had a nightmare.”

Spider sighed, picking at something on his arm.

“Yeah. I get those too.”

You barely stopped to consider what Spider must be going through, too self-involved in your own heartbreak to recognise his own, one that was probably closer to yours that you could have ever thought. You lost Neteyam, but Spider lost Kiri. You both lost a Sully, both lost a love you cared for deeply, more than anyone could ever understand except the other.

“Ok, well, sleep well. Let me know if you need anything.”

You saw Spider turn around and make his way towards the exit, and you could’t help the voice that came out uninvited.

“Can you… stay? Please? I don’t want to be alone.”

Spider stopped in his tracks, still turned away from you, and you watched as the atmosphere of the room shifted, as the silence became thicker than it had been a few moments ago.

“Yeah… yeah, I can stay.” He slowly walked towards your desk chair that had a few clothes thrown carelessly on it, that he removed and put on your desk instead. He sat down, playing with the height and back support controls.

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

You laughed quietly.

“Spider, I meant stay with me.” You shuffled on one edge of your bed and patted the other side. You watched his eyes go wide and mouth agape, as he stared at you in shock.

“You don’t have to, if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

He shook his head and lowered his eyes to the ground. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…”

“Spider, it’s ok. Forget I asked, ok?”

“Oh, shut up. I want to, ok? I just needed a second to adjust. Jeez.”

In true Spider fashion, he stomped over to the bed and got under the covers, and slowly turned around to face you. This was a strange feeling to adjust to for sure. You’ve never had a normal sized person in this bed before. You’ve never had anyone else in here before except Neteyam. Spider looked tiny by comparison, even though the young man was almost a whole head taller than you. Your synchronised breaths were the only thing filling up the tense, awkward silence.

“This is a little weird.”

You couldn’t help chuckle. Well, at least one of you acknowledged it.

“A little.” You admitted. “But I’m glad you’re here, Spider.” He gave you a boyish, crooked smile, one that you’ve grown up seeing develop, just like the rest of him had. You never really paid attention to Spider before. To you, he was just your weird, Tarzan-impersonator, lanky and smelly friend, someone that was just always there. After Neteyam, you never really paid attention to anyone, especially of the opposite sex. Why would you? Any second spent on such affairs was a second wasted, in your mind. But now, Neteyam was gone. Neteyam would move on, and he’d find a mate, whether in the Metkayina or back here, if he ever return. It was time for you to pay attention, it seemed. And you did.

Spider grew up into a beautiful man. He was tall and strong, a testimony to the entire life dedicated to living as close to a Na’vi as he possibly could in this body, that was pure muscle. He was completely naked barring a pair of boxers, and even in the cover of darkness, you couldn’t help trace his biceps and pecs, his pronounced collarbones, and settle you gaze on his face, still kind and innocent, still the same kid you’ve known your whole life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you smiled a little, almost bashful that he caught you, not that you were in any way subtle about it.

“You’re beautiful, you know? I think I’ve always been caught up in my own bullshit to really notice, and I’m sorry for that.” He rolled his eyes, but the blush in his cheeks was so intense it was noticeable even in the dim light coming from the bioluminescent glow of the nature right outside your window.

“You mean caught up in Neteyam.”

It was your turns to blush, hard enough that your cheeks felt like they caught fire. He laughs at you.

“It’s ok. You’re not the only one who knows what it’s like to love someone you can never have, and also not the only one who did things Neytiri would kill you for if she ever found out.” He opened up his arms.

“Come here.”

You hesitated for a second, but couldn’t help the sudden need to be held again, to allow yourself the chance of some sort of connection, some sort of lull in a sea of storms and heartache. Once in his arms, you were once again painfully aware of the difference between him and the man you’ve come to know by heart, the man that still held every part of you hostage, trapped in his hold.

“I know you’ve had a really tough time, and I know that you’re angry, and that most of all, you’re sad that it’s over. I am, too. But the rest of us are still here, you know? The rest of the world is still here. And I think maybe it’s time you give it a chance. Who knows what will happen?”

“How can you be so ok with it? They left us. They abandoned us.” His hand was calloused, but warm and gentle and it caressed up and down your back, and the touch, so familiar and yet so different, brought tears in your eyes as you found yourself wishing once more other hands, bigger and bluer, could do it instead.

“They had no choice. You really think any of them would abandon their home, their family, the forest… any of it, if they could help it?”

You were surprised at Spider’s words and way of thinking, so much more nuanced and level-headed than yours. You knew he was right. You knew it in your head that you shouldn’t blame any of them, shouldn’t blame him, that this was probably even harder for them that it would ever be for you, and yet still, your head and your heart rarely ever got along or saw eye to eye. Your heart was aching, shooting its poisoned blood all throughout your body with every heartbeat, trickling onto every cell, every ounce of you it could get to, making a mess out of you, leaving you reeling and broken, full of hatred and resentment.

“Don’t you… miss her?” He sighed, and stilled his hand movement on the nape of your neck. “I do. I miss them all. But this is a chance to prove myself, to live and show people that I am more than the Sullys’ little pet. And I will take this opportunity and give it everything I got. I suggest you do the same.”

“You should sleep. I’m gonna kick your ass in practice tomorrow otherwise.”

And so you did. And for the first time in months, you had a peaceful night.

Ten months older, I won't give in

Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it

The peace didn’t last, as it never seemed to, as Norm burst in the lab one day when you were doing some experiments.

“Kid. I just heard from Jake.”

The mention of Jake’s name stilled you in your tracks. The name and the names associated with it could always do that, will always do that, even though it’s been months. You knew Jake would never risk their cover to get in touch, so whatever the reason for this was, it was serious. You felt a lump in your throat, restricting your airways, making the breaths you took shallow and uneven.

“What’s the matter?”

”It’s Kiri. Something happened to her underwater. She’s unconscious. Jake asked us to come right away.”

Kiri… your sister in all the ways that mattered, you loved this girl with all your heart. The thought of anything bad happening to her was unthinkable to you. Another thought crept unwelcome in your mind, increasing the lump now completely obstructing your breath, that got stuck in your airways. Spider…

Trying to calm your thoughts, you spoke, and the voice scratched your throat painfully on its way out.

“Did you t-… did you tell him?”

“He’s out in the forest. There is no time. Me and Max are going now. Kid… I think you should come with.”

Eyebrows raised and mouth agape, you struggled to gather your thoughts enough to speak, only soft mumbles coming out instead.

“W-wh-“

“Because I think there’s a lot left unsaid. I know you’re angry, and you have a right to be, far be it from me to tell you how to feel, but…” he sighed, and you could tell he felt uneasy speaking to you about this. “Spider got some closure. You didn’t. Take it from an old man, life’s too short to not have some peace of mind. Kiri’s unwell, and if something happens to her, you will regret for the rest of your life not having said a proper goodbye when they left, when they wanted to.”

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but they did think they were protecting you by leaving. You know they love you, kid. You’re their sister, their best friend. You’re as good as Jake’s daughter. They wouldn’t have left if they ever thought they had a choice.”

“Look, you don’t have to come. I just want what’s best for you, and I think isolating yourself the way you’ve been doing for months isn’t what’s best for you. Just come. Help us save Kiri, say your peace to the Sully family and then maybe you can move on, honey. And who knows… maybe you and Spider…”

You refused to think about his last sentence and focused on how your mind was short-circuiting at his other words, at his desire for you to join, at the thought of seeing them again. Of seeing him again. Your heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to escape your ribcage, and you ran your hand up and down your arms in order to remove the sweat that was gathering on your skin. You knew you probably shouldn’t, you knew that you were better off never seeing them again and forgetting the way his touch and his presence and his voice still had the power to make your knees buckle under the weight of what he meant to you, of the calamitous love you will always feel for him, but another thought, more pressing and urgent, more demanding, made you speak before your mind could intervene.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

The drought was the very worst

When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst

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