#I want to make things until the day I die

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You still don’t know what to call the man. Captain? Rogers? He’s just the man to you. The stranger who doesn’t speak. 

He doesn’t linger. You can’t help but wonder if it’s some game. If he’s playing with you. His stoicism is just another weapon against you. As he leaves, you sit, stunned and lost. Alone. 

The front door of the cabin shuts you in but you don’t know that you would have the courage to let yourself out. The man found you once; unbidden and unexpected, you’re certain he could do it again and again and again. So, you wait until you’re certain the house is empty before you get up. 

You fix the nightgown and hug yourself as you peek through the open bedroom door. You emerge warily and glance through to the bathroom. The front room once jars you further. You forgot how cozy, how normal it seams. 

You wander around the frayed rug and inspect every piece of furniture. A draft runs through the room, blowing in around the door. There’s an iron basket of split logs next to the fireplace. There’s something yellow on top.

You go over and open the packet; inside, a lighter and a little booklet on how to start a fire. Hm. There’s a bag of kindling next to the wood as well. Maybe later. 

You set the packet back down and turn to face the other doorway. The one you’ve not yet ventured through. The kitchen is small but tidy. On the table, there’s a small crate. Within, sorted neatly, are similar silver packets to the one he handed you in the bedroom. They are labeled alongside a large bag of quick oats. 

The oats simply read, ‘Breakfast’. The writing is jagged but legible. Each packet is labeled decisively; Day 1 – Dinner, Day 2 – Lunch... On and on. You turn and face the fridge. The only thing on it is another note. ‘Drink Water. Not Tap.’ Got it. After the complete absence of communication, it’s nice to have at least a little directive. 

You retreat to the bedroom and check the empty packet. Yep, Day 1 – Lunch. Amid the chaos of your abduction and the desolation of this place, the pieces of order stick out sorely. It all feels so fractured. 

You go to the armoir and try to open it. The doors don’t budge. You back up and cross your arms again. You’re really starting to get cold. You should get the fire going before your fingers go completely numb. 

You strip the flannel blanket from the bed and wrap it around your shoulders. You go back into the living room and hep the extra layer at your waist as you sit on your knees and try to figure out the fireplace. After several splinters and some sparks from the lighter, you get a flame struck. 

You stay close and hold up your hands as it begins to lick. You settle down on your butt and hug yourself under the blanket. You watch the flames swirl and your vision blurs with little orbs of colour.  

The questions don’t matter. The answers won’t make a difference. Why are you here? Where is here? No, it’s useless. Just like from the first moment you saw him. You know now, it wasn’t the first time he saw you. 

You hang your head and let it pour out of you. The fear throttles you so you’re choking on your sobs. Your body wracks and your skull throbs. You don’t want to live like this but you’re too afraid to die. 

You wade up from the dregs of your grief and the room comes clear again. You’re on your side before the glowing embers. You sit up and put another piece of wood on the pile then get up. You stagger around to the bedroom, your feet moving without your mind’s intent. 

You go to the corner. You stare at the shelf. The pictures, the stolen parts of your existence, the shank of hair... is gone? You saw him put it there. Oh well. Good riddance. 

You shudder and squint over the images. There’s one from over a year ago. The last time you saw your family. You shake your head and back up. No. No. You didn’t know for that long. Well, how could you expect something like this? 

You sniffle and leave the room. You can’t stay in there. Not with that shrine? Altar? You don’t even know what. 

You take a stiff pillow from the couch and lower yourself in front of the fireplace again. You close your eyes but you don’t know if you’ll be able to sleep. There isn’t much else to do. 

Time skews into a haze. It’s dark, then light, and dark again. Your stomach gurgles but by the time you get the food warm, you’re too sick to eat more than a few bites. As the days wilt by, a stench roils from your body. 

The packets help you track the day, even as you miss some, you try to keep some order in your mind. On Day Four, you dare to try the faucet. The tub pours out steaming water. You adjust it before you sink in. It’s as close to peace as you’ve found. 

As the water stagnates around your body, you can’t help but think. When will he come back? Will he be back? You don’t think he’s out there having fun and frolicking. You could tell by his attire, by the marks of death on that shield. 

You let the water go cold then drain it. You pull the same nightgown on, even as it reeks. You just need something on. You reclaim the blanket and your perch before the fireplace. You wish you had something warm to drink. Coffee or tea. Nothing could ever make this place anything less than a prison, but you wouldn’t mind some comfort. 

[beecauseevan]

I would love some romantic buddie! As much as you can give me! Imo buck comes across as the more outwardly romantic/wears his heart on his sleeve kinda guy. I think eddie always wanted to be romantic but never allowed himself to be, because maybe he never felt safe enough or thought it wasn't the "manly" thing to do. So maybe he does like lots of little things to show buck how much he loves him, and something super super romantic like home cooked dinner, candles, bath etc. I mean like the cringest, most sappy romantic shit you can think of...give it all to me

Eddie steps back and surveys his work, a nervous breath escaping him. He can't afford a single mistake. This has to be flawless—it has to become one of those nights they'll always look back on with fondness. Fifty years from now, when Hildy and her AI overlords have taken over the world and even Eddie's extensive core workouts can't keep the back pain at bay anymore, the memory of tonight has to be one of those things that keep them going, along with walking chairs and arthritis meds. There's no room for anything but perfection here, because tonight has been years in the making.

As he stands there, casting a critical eye over the scene in front of him, all of those years come back to him. Six years of painful longing, crashing into Eddie like a high caliber bullet, tearing his body to pieces.

He's 31 and standing in a hospital waiting room, tired and guilty while Isabel suffers because Eddie can't get his shit together. He's 31 and Buck nods at him from across the station because he made sure Chris could come. He's 31 and Buck introduces him to Carla and a weight lifts from his shoulders and he thinks, maybe—and he's 31 and Shannon comes back and nothing else matters.

‎He's 32 and his life is in shambles and Buck saves his son from drowning, saves Eddie from himself, wanna go for the title, and Eddie wants, and maybe—but Chris is there. He's 32 and the well collapses on top of him and when he makes it out it's Buck who holds him up, and he goes to his attorney the very next day and shackles Buck to him legally, because if he can't have him physically that will have to do.

He's 33 and the world has descended into chaos and he sleeps on Buck's couch every day and he lies awake and listens to Buck's steady breathing, up on the loft, and he closes his eyes and he wonders, and he wants—but then he's 33 and Bobby tells him to take a chance on Ana and he does, because that's what a man does.

He's 33 and he's bleeding and Buck is covered in blood, might be hurt, and then the world fades to black and when he wakes up, Buck is with Taylor. He's 33 and he tells Buck he's not expendable, and Buck looks at him like maybe—he's 33 and nothing changes.

He's 34 and he can't love Ana the way he should. He's 34 and Buck tells him to break up with her, and Eddie does, and he wonders if that means, if—but then he's 34 and he's single and Buck isn't. 

He's 34 and his life falls to pieces. He's 34 and he's moved on but he hasn't, the 118 has moved on but Buck hasn't. He's 34 and he hasn't saved anyone but Buck is there, hand warm on Eddie's shoulder, steady in the face of Eddie's grief. He's 34 and Buck breaks up with Taylor and everything could change and nothing does.

He's 35 and Buck is dead and Eddie feels his ribs crack under his palms. He's 35 and 3 minutes and 17 seconds are an eternity spent in hell. He's 35 and Natalia sees Buck. He's 35 and he might as well date. He's 35 and nothing will ever, ever change between them. ‎He's 35 and he wants Buck so bad he might die from it.

He's 36 and his son is gone and he hurt another woman and Buck is dating a man. He's 36 and Buck breaks up with Tommy. He's 36 and he grabs Buck by the shoulders and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.

He's 36, and everything changes.

He's 37, now, and he's standing in his kitchen (their kitchen), and in front of him, the dining table looks like something straight from a pinterest board. The tablecloth is a dark crimson red and he used his good plates and his good silverware. In the middle of the table, a cluster of white candles illuminates the space. Next to the candles, leaving just enough distance to avoid a housefire, there's a vase filled with a dozen red roses.

It looks good. Whether or not it's perfect remains to be seen—only Buck can be the judge of that.

As if on cue, the front door opens. Eddie turns and waits, and when Buck comes through the kitchen door, Eddie is treated to the wonderful sight of his boyfriend, for once stunned beyond words, frozen in candlelight. He was visiting Maddie, and it seems that Jee-Yun got to him—there are watercolor stains on his blue shirt—but he's still the most beautiful thing Eddie has ever seen.

"What..." He looks away from the table, finally, up at Eddie, eyes wide. "Did I forget our anniversary? No, that's—that's in two months."

He's right. They're not celebrating their anniversary, or a birthday, or any other holiday. Eddie did this because Buck deserves it. There's no other reason—there doesn't need to be.

Buck deserves this, because he's had Eddie's back for seven years. Buck deserves this, because he makes Chris smile and Eddie laugh and he's saved both of their lives, more than once, in more ways than Eddie can count. Buck deserves this because he wakes Eddie up with soft kisses to his shoulder and harder kisses to his jawline and because he holds Eddie tight when they lie awake with sweat cooling on their bodies, and tighter still when they fall asleep too late. Buck deserves this because he's kind and he's smart and he makes Eddie's life better just by being in it.

Buck tells Eddie that he loves him all the time, with words and with gestures. Eddie has a harder time with it, even though he loves Buck just the same. Tonight, he wanted to show him as much.

"You didn't forget anything," Eddie assures him, and pulls out one of the chairs so Buck can sit down.

Buck does. His eyes are bright. His cheeks are rosy. Maybe that's the candlelight. Or maybe this is a first for him too.

"Chris?" he asks, as Eddie moves to the stove to get their food.

"He's with Pepa," Eddie says. "They're catching up on Hotshots. We have the house to ourselves."

Buck meets his eyes. A smirk has made its way into his stunned expression, small but striking. "That so?"

Eddie returns it with a smile of his own and comes back with two plates.

"Full disclosure," he says, "this is Bobby's steak."

There is no room for mistakes tonight. Eddie has not mastered steak yet, so he enlisted outside help. Buck smiles at him like he doesn't care, though.

"And there's tiramisu," Eddie adds. He almost stumbles as he sits down, too distracted by that smile. "For later. I got that from Cap, too."

He half expects Buck to call him a cheater (gently, jokingly, in that warmly mocking way he has, the one that makes Eddie want to kiss him until the world ends), but Buck just stares at him. He's still blushing. His foot brushes Eddie's under the table, and his fingers find Eddie's wrist.

"All of this." He waves his free hand at the candles, the flowers, the food. "Why?"

Eddie laces their fingers together and holds Buck's blue-eyed gaze.

"Because I love you," he says. "Because you deserve it. Because—I wanted to make you feel how you make me feel."

"I must make you feel pretty damn good," Buck says quietly. His hand squeezes Eddie's.

"You do," Eddie says simply, because that's not a truth he's ever struggled with. "You really do. And I wanted to give you something—good."

"It's better than good," Buck says and smiles. "It's perfect."

Eddie is 37. It's a perfect night, and the love of his life smiles at him in a kitchen filled with candlelight. He can't wait to be 38, 40, 60, 100. He can't wait to grow old with this man.

[daemonwritesstuff]

AEGON II & HIS BELOVED AELLARA TARGARYEN

A/N: this is yet another trade with my best bud @sugutoad !! I’m so happy to do yet another one of these and I hope I did this one with justice (I think I’m just gonna go dig up a hole and die in there once this is posted 🧍) but I will forever be grateful to do so many matchups with ya 😭❤️ here ya go! and yes this is aegon x anna’s OC!

It was a peaceful evening for the two couples Aegon and Aellara, they spend their nights together in each other rooms or someone deep into the night with no one around, it was just them together in the world.

 Aellara and Aegon’s relationship was a secret, no one knew about them only his family did, including his sister-wife Helaena, she understood their situation and aware of how in love they were, she wouldn’t interfere with them…

One night where Aellara and Aegon usually met up frequently, this time they were in his own chambers… When Aegon and Aellara are in each others arms she decides to ask a question to her beloved and it was a very simple question that no one should really be upset about, she asked the boy “Are we ever gonna be together?” Aegon got out of her arms in confusion, why was she asking such a question?

“Of course we are…” Aegon assured her but it really wouldn’t last long and the tension started getting more stronger, Aellara was losing her hope… her thoughts kept bugging her, telling herself that maybe this love was not meant to be.

She had said it out loud… not knowing that Aegon was still with her, he got up and started yelling at her… telling her that they will be together but Aellara is sick of hearing the same thing, if Aegon really loves her and wants her then wouldn’t he do something about this marriage he was in and finally be with her?

“I… I don’t think this was meant to be…” she said as she let out her sobs, her pain, everything single horrible thing she has ever thought of, she let all of it out during this breakdown, before Aegon could even say a word she unstably got up, lifted her dress and started running away sobbing, Aegon’s soul was screaming at him to tell his guards to go after her, to stop her, but the words… nothing could come out of his mouth as his heart kept putting pressure on him and he started crying.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It’s been a few days since he was last spoken to Aellara, she has not spoken face to face with him recently and he began to grow anxious, waiting for her to come back to him so he can be in the comfort of her arms, the real place he called “home”.

He decided to use his sword and start attacking a wooden statue (meant for using swords) to let out his anger, Criston just happened to be waking by and stopped by and asked Aegon if he wanted to duel with him, and without a doubt he did… this lasted for a few hours until Aegon has gotten tired and decided to sit down.

Aegon told Criston how he can make it up to his beloved, Aellara… how he can fix things with her once again, it took Criston a few moments to figure out something and tell him, he told him that he can invite her somewhere she wants to go, no questions or anything, just to take her. He also added that he can divorce Helaena somehow and try to plead to his mother to let him marry Aellara.

Aegon who listened to Cristons words decided to do exactly what he said, he had got the cooks to pack him and his mistress a meal, one of his liking and of her liking so he can make it up to her, after the meals have been cooked and brought to him Aegon bumps into Aellara and tells her to come with him and he has a surprise, she was a little bit suspicious of what he was doing but never declined, just giving short answers like “Ok”.

He wanted to take her dragon to go and eat but Aellara took a liking to his dragon and insisted that she would like to go on his dragon, he could never decline anything his beloved wanted, so he decided to take her on Sunfyre and fly off to the destination he planned to take her.

Once they arrive they got to a garden that they both enjoyed going to here and there for dates, it was also the same garden he also took her to on his first date with her. They start talking like they normally do and after some time after talking there’s a silence, but Aellara decides to break that silence and lean over to kiss him, and then Aegon gives her a few pecks back and they both smile sweetly to each other.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After their pleasant little picnic they enjoyed Aegon takes her to go walk up a hill, enjoying the view of the sunset, he tells her “Do you ever wanna just run away?” Aellara giggles at his silly question and jokes back with him, causing him to start joking back with her and telling her (terrible) jokes that make her crack up.

After they stop laughing at some point Aellara decided to tell him something that she needed to tell him (before the argument never happened) but she was nervous to, after getting him to listen to her she decided to tell him that she is with a child…

His smile fell, but after a few seconds his smile came back and he picked her up and started spinning her around in joy and starts celebrating a little that he’s gonna have a child with her! But he sooner realizes that the child might be a bastard and is worried about how she’ll react, but Aellara reassures him that she doesn’t care as long has their child has their father with them in their life.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After Aegon heads back he immediately tries to talk with his parents and his grandfather, Otto Hightower. Aegon immediately tells them that he wants a divorce with Helaena and to let him marry Aellara, she was also of his blood too and it would strengthen more of the bond more.

Viserys refuses this at first because of their traditions and tells him that he shouldn’t try to do that, to keep the tradition going and he focuses on his legos after that 💀. On the other hand with Alicent and Otto also persist and they start bringing up the history of the Dawn’s Empire between House Dayne and House Targaryen (which was kind of stupid to compare that to…)

But after some time, Viserys will allow him to marry Aellara and get divorced with Helaena (much to his sisters joy, she can finally be free from being queen and go back to focusing more on her insects).

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

After some months, Aellara and Aegon are officially married! They got married in the way of Old Valyria since it would strengthen them more through soul and no one would be able to separate them at all, not even the gods.

Their party was amazing and so much fun, lavish but the room was filled with joy, there was a lot of singing, talking and dancing, there was no bad stuff happening at all, all anxiety and fear was gone, it was a refresh for a better life they were about to have. Aellara and Aegon were made for each other and no one could ever separate them, no matter how much they try.

[ameliemaaaee]

The Silent Witness - Oneshot Series

(2) How you Become an Agent

Chapter Information Summary: With a sudden career change underway you find yourself enraveled in a case that's more than personal for the BAU. Content Warnings: S6/7 Spoilers, Doyle Arc Spoilers, Canon Violence/Gore, Awkward!Reader & Spencer, Betraya/Lies. Word Count: 9,504.

Story Masterlist - (1) - (2)

You were extremely glad the long day was coming to an end. The lab-techs were arriving to clean the morgue for the evening, and you were ready to happily retire to your apartment for the night, where you would remain on-call until the morning.

You quickly bustled around your small desk, your body on autopilot as you cleaned up the files and packed up your belongings.

You were pulled out of your reverie by the shrill ringing of your telephone. You began to irrationally panic, dropping the stack of files onto your chair as quickly as possible, not wanting to keep the caller waiting.

Once you finally had free hands and lifted the receiver you were met with a familiar voice you couldn’t help smiling at.

“Hi Y/N, it’s Agent Hotchner from the BAU.” You couldn’t help but smile at the vaguely familiar voice.

“Yes, to what do I owe the pleasure, agent?”

“I actually have a couple questions. I need a consult.”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem... fire away!”

“We have an agent who is in some trouble at the moment…” You hum down the receiver to indicate to Hotch you were listening.

“… she’s being transferred into WITSEC, but in order for that transition to raise no questions, she needs to ‘die’.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You say, your tone taking an even and professional edge.

“She was seriously injured in an encounter with an UnSub, and sent to hospital, where she was then airlifted to another and stabilised. I can’t disclose much more, but I was wondering if a post-mortem report would be necessary?”

“Okay, well most hospitals conduct post-mortems on their patients if they die in their care. And these are supposed to be easily accessible to the friends and family of the deceased. So, I would say that if you’re trying to cover all bases it would be a necessary move.”

“How would I go about that?” You twirl your hair around your finger, deep in thought.

“If you email me over her patient file, I can sign off on a PM report for you? I’m obviously totally excluded from this case, and you would need her consent to share the files, but I’m totally covered legally for that type of thing.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not. Not if it lifts a weight off your shoulders, plus I can do PM reports in my sleep.”

You hear Agent Hotchner chuckle through the phone at this.

“That would be greatly appreciated doctor.”

“Yeah, as I said just send me over…”

“-Actually, I had one last thing to ask.” He continues, piquing your interest.

“Okay-”

“We had an increase in budget this year that would allow us to hire an extra agent. I have been in contact with my higher-ups who are currently in the process of trying to bring forensic medical professionals into the bureau, and they are currently finishing up a state-of-the-art mortuary facility on the academy grounds.”

You pause, absorbing all the information agent Hotchner was relaying too you, trying to process what he meant by all of this, and you couldn’t help but feel the excitement swell in your heart as you got your hopes up.

“The brass was obviously aware of you, and how highly I spoke of you on our return, and they requested that I reach out and ask you personally if you would be willing to consider a position. Now, I’m aware that it’s a big ask and that it would require a trans-Atlantic mo-“

“-Absolutely, I would absolutely consider it.” You can’t hide the excitement in your voice as you cut the agent off.

“-That’s great, I’m currently in the process of trying to negotiate a forensic professional to our team, who would be essential in commencing the work of the forensic pathology department, before stepping back into a role primarily within the BAU; and they said yes, we are just working out some of the finer details.”

“Hotch, do you happen to remember what I said in the café that day?” You heard him laugh.

“Yes.”

“This means, a lot to me. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all, I think you would be perfectly suited here.”

You try to contain your joy as Agent Hotchner takes a slight pause.

“I have a meeting later, I will keep you updated, but be prepared; this position will open up fairly quickly. I will also forward you the information regarding our agent.”

“That’s great, I will get all of that sorted for you tomorrow. Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks… really, this is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.” His laugh emanates through the phone again as you smile widely.

“It’s no problem, doctor. Have a good night.”

“And you.”

As you place the phone back down in its cradle you can’t help but jump up and down as a sense of overwhelming joy overtakes you.

The rush of adrenaline allows you to tidy your desk in record time and soon you find yourself slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking out onto the crowded streets of London, striding to the nearest Tube Station a bright, smile on your face that was here to stay.

-

Hotch wasn’t lying when he said the position would open up quickly, within a month you were officially an American citizen, and a federal agent in training about to begin your first day…. Well, half-day.

Nothing would ever come close to describing the anxiousness you felt gazing up at the looming foyer of the FBI Academy in which the BAU was based.

Butterflies swam through your stomach as you proceeded up the steps and towards the main doors where an FBI crest was flaunted above the doors inscribed with ‘Fidelity, Integrity, Bravery.” The words somehow calmed you. These people were the best of the best, and so were you, just maybe not at hand-to-hand combat.

Hotch had quickly made you aware that the unit was in a transitional period due to both, a major investigation, and the aforementioned ‘death’ of an agent. This meant, he would not be able to greet you, and instead he would be sending Garcia, a familiar face.

And as you made your way through the sliding glass doors, she quickly bustled up to you engulfing you in her arms; a hug you couldn’t help but find comforting. You were in slightly over your head; a new country, a new job, and what you hoped would be a new group of friends.

Garcia practically dragged you towards a front desk to retrieve a visitor pass and then towards a set of elevators.

“I’m so glad you’re here you know?”

“I’m glad to be here.”

“The whole team loved you in London.”

You grin at this, quickly snapping back to attention as the elevator doors slide open onto the sixth floor. You had little time to process this however as Penelope quickly grabbed your hand and dragged you towards glass doors that were inscribed with the initials ‘BAU’. If you weren’t nervous before, you were now.

“I should let you know that we are in a state of eternal chaos right now. I’m pretty sure Hotch hasn’t even had the chance to tell the team you are coming yet.” Garcia pushes open the doors and leads you through into a large open area.

The main floor of the BAU was carpeted, and spacious L-shaped desks created a sort of bullpen. Each desk had a unique personality that you couldn’t help noting. A raised platform ran along the back of the room housing offices and to the far left, what looked like a conference room.

The space was surprisingly welcoming for an office, and you slowly scanned the room, unable to spot any familiar faces before you were being dragged towards a corridor.

“This is my bat-cave.” Garcia has a proud look on her face as she walks into a large computer room littered with monitors, and a large wall-high computer unit sat behind glass on the other wall.

“Wait- this is amazing! Did you program it all?” You whisper as you trail your finger across the trinket-covered desk, noting the operating system was like no other you had ever seen.

“I did indeed.” You grin as you turn to face her, prying your eyes away from the impressive computers.

“Okay, the team will be here in about 10 minutes, in the meantime I have a PowerPoint.”

“A PowerPoint?”

“Yes, it’s the best way to deliver information.” You laugh shyly, shrugging your shoulders as she fiddles with her computer for a second before dragging you across the ramp, and towards the aforementioned conference room, pointing out offices as she went.

“This is Hotch’s office, he never leaves it unless he’s forced to. This is Rossi’s office, He has expensive renaissance art, and Morgan’s office is back there, he’s hot.” You can’t help but laugh at their dynamic which had stuck out to you in London, but it clearly wasn’t a one-off occurrence.

“…and this, my friend, is the round table room.” You quickly get ushered into one of the comfortable desk chairs as the screen lights up, Garcia standing in front of it.

“This is gonna be less dramatic since you’ve met everyone already but here goes nothing I guess-“

The screen flashes with a title slide reading ‘The Behavioural Analysis Unit’ in bold lettering, the unit logo accompanying it.

“I like your font choice-“ You smile as Garcia thanks you and changes the slide.

“Ohhh yes! Meet the team. This is the best part.” You chuckle at this allowing her to continue.

“Okay, so we of course have Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner…” You try to hold back a laugh as a small photo pops up on the screen accompanying some facts.

“…he is our ‘boss man’ and he’s the dad of the team, but he’s also actually a dad; his son’s name is Jack, and I can’t really remember what age he is but he’s very sweet. He also doesn’t smile… or blink, like ever so don’t be scared that’s just him.” You find yourself wondering whether or not this PowerPoint had been run past Hotch or not.

“Okay, we have me. Fun fact, I’m fabulous. If you ever need a sneaky background check on anyone, I can do that in literally three seconds flat, and I’m also fabulous.”

“Then we have Derek -Chocolate Thunder- Morgan. I’m his baby girl, don’t steal him from me, thank you. The rest is self-explanatory… just, look at him!” You lean back in your seat rolling your eyes, but the sudden sound of a door opening grabs your attention, startling you.

“Garcia?” JJ makes her way into the room quickly spotting you sat on the chair. She laughs slightly as she notices the slideshow proudly displayed on the projector.

“Did you run this past Hotch?”

 “No-“ JJ laughs, rolling her eyes as she turns to you, offering a warm smile.

“Dr. L/N, it’s great to have you here, I’ll take you to Hotch’s office. He left the contracts in there.”

-

“Who’s that?” Morgan points towards a shadowed figure sat opposite JJ in Hotch’s office.

The team had been busy monitoring Declan and trying to come up with a plan for when Doyle resurfaced that, they had failed to remember Hotch’s brief mention of a new agent before he left for his temporary assignment in Pakistan.

“JJ’s probably talking to Strauss.” Spencer shrugs, squinting one last time at the image distorted by the half-closed blinds.

“There were whispers of a new agent-“ Rossi says, rolling his eyes at the team’s speculation, fully aware he was only furthering their curiosity. But instead, he leads them towards the conference room where Garcia is preparing case files.

“Hotch wouldn’t hire a new agent, not right now anyway, he isn’t even here.” Spencer places his satchel across the back of the chair before slumping down into it.

“Yeah, with this whole Doyle thing, it wouldn’t make sense. Plus, it’s not like anybody would willingly walk into this chaos.”

The team begin to discuss their findings amongst themselves, taking notes.

-

“Alright Y/N, you don’t have to sign the contracts for your main job until Hotch returns. For now, you just need to sign the ones admitting you into the Academy, where you will complete the physical requirements. The academics have been waived, as you will be spending your free time with us.” You nod, quickly scrawling your signature down into all the open spaces on the contract and hand the form to JJ.

“Okay, Academy starts in three days, but for now you can come and meet the team.” JJ smiles at you patting you lightly on your shoulder.

“You’re gonna do great.” You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Do the team know I’m coming?” JJ stops at the door, turning to you.

“They don’t. We are currently tracking an international terrorist who killed one of our own, and it’s pretty much a waiting game until he resurfaces. They’ve been pretty preoccupied.” You nod, solemnly at JJ.

“Thanks for the falsified PM report by the way.” She chuckles as your eyes widen.

“You know?”

“Yeah, it was a joint decision between Hotch and I to put Agent Prentiss into WITSEC, this is the tail end of her case.” You gasp as you make the connection.

“I read about it, He was vengeful at Emily for killing his son, so he attempted to murder her.” JJ nods.

“But in front of the team, you know nothing okay? As far as they are aware Emily Prentiss was killed by Ian Doyle. That’s it.”

“Got it.” You allow JJ to lead you down the hallway towards the BAU roundtable room, where you can see the team sat talking amongst themselves.

“Guys-“ JJ speaks up as she walks through the door, you follow her through standing awkwardly as the teams eyes fall on you.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice pipes up as you give him a small smile and an awkward wave, which doesn’t falter the confusion across his features.

“Hotch never got around to telling you, but Y/N is going to be our newest team member. For the moment she’s in training. But she will become an invaluable asset to this team once Hotch returns and she is assigned her true position. She will work with us whilst running then new forensic pathology department in the Bureau.” You gaze over the team attempting to process JJ’s words.

“She’s not an agent?” Derek speaks up. You are too distracted however, by Spencer who is patting the empty seat beside him.

You settle in the seat as JJ begins explaining your situation.

“Y/N is technically in the academy, she’s completing the fitness and marksmanship regime, we will provide the academic training here. Once Hotch returns, she will then hopefully be an agent, and then he will arrange her paperwork for her official position.” Morgan furrows his brows, but nods at this.

“I was remediated in the academy also.” Spencer pipes up from beside you, catching your attention.

“For what?” You quietly question, your curiosity peaking.

“Pretty much anything relating to physical strength, or capabilities. If it wasn’t inherently textbook based, I didn’t do it.” You chuckle.

“I mean, I agreed to do all the physical training.” You smile down at your lap, as Morgan laughs.

“She’s smart and athletic, pretty boy you’ve got competition.” A blush rolls over Spencer’s cheeks as the rest of the team join in a chorus of laughter. You can’t help but feel the blush rising to your own cheeks also.

“Why did you move from London?” your gaze turns to Rossi, who offers you a small smile.

“I was just interested in a change, and I was lucky enough to be able to take this opportunity.” You smiled at the group, trying your best to keep your eyes on the people, and not on your lap where they defaulted to.

“I must say, it’s a bit strange that both times we’ve met it has been over an international terrorist.” Spencer’s voice cuts through the remaining chatter and laughter, his observation creating a new rise out of the team.

“Yeah, I guess.”

-

“Do you think it’s weird?” You practically whisper as Spencer weaves you through the bullpen, towards what you were to assume would be your new desk.

“What’s weird?” He furrows his brow as he rolls out the chair, beckoning you to sit.

The desk was empty, apart from a monitor, keyboard and mouse that provided you access to various FBI databases. You weren’t one for clutter and material possessions, but you couldn’t help but recognise that the empty desk struck fear in your heart, it felt like a metaphor for your new life in Quantico.

“Me being here.” Your voice comes out a bit sadder than anticipated, each syllable laced with insecurity that would easily be picked up by a profiler.

“No, it’s not weird. In fact, I think it’s a good thing.” You feel yourself relax slightly at Spencer’s reassurance.

Reid was a sweet guy, and you were glad you had been partnered with him to learn basic profiling skills; not that you would be expected to use them, as Spencer had said, but he thought they would be good to know.

Truth be told, you were pretty sure the team had been trying their best to fill time. With the group being rather disbanded, and cases being on hold Spencer had chosen teaching you as a valid time-passing opportunity.

Pulling you out of your thoughts Spencer stood at the desk opposite, his fingers trailing over the spines of the books he had stacked high, before selecting one.

“That’s your desk?” You snapped your head up towards him as he offered you a lopsided grin and a nod.

“Yeah.” You felt a blush roll over your face, that you quickly hid by gazing down at your lap, allowing Spencer to push his chair up next to yours.

“I have an idea, that’s more interesting than reading a book.” You look up at him in confusion.

“Apparently there’s this game, called two truths and a lie?” You simply nod your head, at what sounded like a question. He seemed unsure of his own idea as he quickly continued.

“Well, in criminal profiling one of the most useful skills is to know when someone is lying. It’s obviously not one-hundred-percent fool proof, but it can dictate your next move as regards their case. And I guess it could be useful in life?” You chuckle at this, nodding your head, trying to hide your anxiousness at the prospect of having to read someone’s behaviour in front of a professional.

“I’m -uh- I’m notoriously terrible at reading people.” You feel your cheeks heat up yet again in embarrassment. Spencer’s eyes connect with yours and you quickly divert your gaze away from him.

“It’s okay, we can make it easy. I know what my tell is so I will make it more obvious for you to begin with. Just study my behaviour as best as you can and let me know if you want me to say them again.” You nod, swallowing harshly.

“Okay, I was sixteen when I got my first PhD in mathematics.” Spencer pauses, as you slowly take him in, he seems totally normal, you nod.

“I graduated high school at twelve.” You watch him again, noticing absolutely no change in his behaviour.

“I was twenty-two when I joined the BAU.” You furrow your brows, totally unsure of which was a lie, they all seemed plausible for a genius like Spencer.

“I-uhm-“ You turn your gaze to him panicking slightly as you realise, he’s looking for an answer.

“I- have no idea.” You whisper, crossing your legs up in the chair as Spencer nods.

“That’s okay, do you want to try again?” You can’t help but deflate at the idea of going through that again.

“O-okay.”

Spencer repeats the three statements again, his gaze remains fixed on you as if he’s reading your ultimate confusion.

Spencer immediately notes you perking up after the third statement.

“The first one is a lie, right?” You say, trying to hold back the grin on your face.

“How do you know?” Oh shit. You certainly couldn’t explain yourself, then he would know that you totally failed the exercise and used logic instead.

If he graduated high school at twelve, he couldn’t have had a PhD at sixteen, right? That whittles it down to a fifty-fifty chance it’s either one of them… maybe?

“Uhm, well the average PhD takes seven years to complete, five years for your masters, and then two for your dissertation. You’re pretty smart, but not super-human enough to only manage it in four years, considering you have to learn all course material and write an 80,000-word dissertation.”

You continue talking when Spencer fails to fill the silence, you failing to notice the look of shock on Spencer’s face.

“Well, I personally graduated medical school in four years, instead of five. So, I was twenty-one, and then did my two years of foundation training and it was extremely difficult to do extra-curricular research alongside full-time work, and placements. This was all despite the fact that I never found it difficult to remember the academics. I digress though, it would be virtually impossible to do a PhD in 4 years.”

Spencer swallows harshly as he chuckles.

“Yeah, I -uhm- well, you were right.” He’s still relatively speechless and you can’t help but begin to worry that you overwhelmed him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble, I just- I know it was supposed to be human behaviour, but I don’t- I couldn’t-“

“It’s okay Y/N, I just didn’t realise you were so impressive-“ Spencer’s voice has jumped an octave and he’s staring at you so intensely that you shrivel back into your chair.

“I- I mean, I’m not- I, -I just relate to you?” Spencer shifts in his chair, a squeak interrupting the silence, and causing you to jump.

“It’s o-okay, it’s nice to have-“

“Reid! L/N! Can you come into the roundtable room? We’re going to catch you up on Doyle.” JJ gestures for the pair of you to follow her, interrupting the awkward exchange between the pair of you, replacing it with a work environment that would mask you amongst others.

-

“We were in the hospital for about eight hours, that night, but she died on the table.” You hang your head slowly, nodding as Morgan’s voice wavers uncharacteristically. You had to try your best to keep the secret.

“We never got access to the post-mortem report from the hospital either, not even Garcia could find it.” Your head snaps up at this as you quickly come up with an excuse.

“Yeah, well you wouldn’t be allowed access to it without a next-of-kin’s consent. It’s likely that because her killer was still loose and was so high-profile, that they wouldn’t want to offer up any sensitive info. Her personnel file was erased right?”

“Yeah, it was.” Morgan confirms.

“Well, it’s just so they can’t get to people who are involved in her case as easily.” You place your hands on the desk in front of you as Spencer eyes you.

The rest of the team look pretty sad, Garcia is dabbing her eyes with a tissue, Spencer appears to be peeved off, but Morgan’s face is set in unadulterated frustration.

“Doyle knows us, he knows the BAU. If he wants blood, he will come for us.” You shrug slightly at this; the fact of the matter was they wouldn’t have access, even if it existed.

“I’m sorry Morgan.” You say, pursing your lips together offering him a tight smile.

“How about we just go back to-“ JJ leans forwards patting the centre of the table in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track.

“-yeah.” Reid jumped in, before continuing.

“We knew that after Emily’s death, Doyle would want to resurface to search for his son Declan who-

“Sorry to interrupt Reid but speaking of resurfacing-“ You can practically feel the panic emanating from the team as they all dash towards Garcia at the head of the table, leaving you behind.

You rock side to side in the swivel chair as the team all gather in the corner of the room talking over Garcia’s laptop screen.

“That’s him.”

“Can we be so sure? I mean, it’s only been a month.”

“Spencer, I- Y/N, can you come here?”

You stand making your way towards JJ who is shuffling through a folder.

“This is a photograph of Ian Doyle. Is this man from the CCTV him?” She pokes her finger towards the male in question on the laptop.

“I mean given how statistically unlikely it is for someone this remarkably similar to exist in an area being surveyed for Doyle’s presence, I would say yes that definitely is him. Especially so, considering he has no biological siblings.” JJ nods, agreeing with you.

The rest of the team straighten up, looking to each other as if to decide who gives the orders, all eyes eventually settling on Derek.

“Okay, well I think we should set up surveillance for Declan full time. He is our priority.” You nod in response, as JJ quickly grabs a pen, scrawling on the back of her case file.

“We can dispatch agents to his house to watch for suspicious activity. Spencer, Penelope, we need you to track all of Doyle’s aliases, and update us if any of them resurface, or lead you to an address. In the meantime, Morgan and I will stakeout his school, and see if he will lead us to his hideout from there. Y/N, focus on academy, it’s about to get really busy in here.” JJ Claps her hand, signalling her finish as the rest of the team hums in approval.

For once in your life the room felt alive with the determination of the team, banding together.

“Rossi is in his office reviewing cases, I’ll let him know of the break and to be on standby if we need him, and Spencer in the field.” Morgan quickly dashes past you and out the door.

After that the team quickly went their separate ways. Spencer followed Garcia into her office, and not long after Morgan resurfaced from Rossi’s office, JJ had him bustled into the elevator with little time to spare. That left you standing in the middle of the roundtable room confused, and with a day to kill before academy.

-

“Welcome to the ‘Basic Field Training’ portion of the FBI Academy. Here we will teach you Firearms, Survival Skills, Tactical and Emergency Vehicle Operations, and of course you will be completing Hogan’s Alley.”

You cross your arms, pulling against your waist, almost giving yourself a hug. You were enjoying the comfort of the FBI hoodie you had been provided with, the soft fabric seemingly dampening your anxiety. You were in a new situation, with new, unfamiliar people.

“Today, we will focus on running the single mile, and the three mile as a warm-up. We will then have you split into three groups. One team will run the obstacle course, The second will go to the shooting range, and the final group will do arrests.”

The coach seemed like a fairly nice man, he had assured you before the class that he was aware of your situation, and that Agent Hotchner had spoken very highly of you. He had also noted that you had been put into a small group of 5 trainees to assure you got plenty of attention, in case your training were to be cut short.

“Okay can the five of you line up on the track and stretch out a bit.” The group followed the SSA’s instructions, lining up at the start line.

You zoned out as you went down your body, naming each muscle in your head and stretching it out until you were satisfied that you wouldn’t injure yourself.

“Is everyone finished?”

The group let out a chorus of ‘yes sir’s, and he offered you an assuring nod.

“Good. Remember it’s not a race, you may start now. Pace yourselves and enjoy it.”

As he stepped off the track the group began moving at a pace, but you stuck towards the back of the group, saving your energy for the final few yards.

You managed to settle into the rhythm of your feet hitting against the pavement, tuning out the hum of activity coming from your other academy-mates. Your breathing was even, steady, and unwavering as you felt the rush of adrenaline overcome you that made you feel as if you could do almost anything.

When you looked up from the ground, the finish line was nearing you, and with about 150 yards left you picked up the pace, slowly making your way to the front of the group. Not in an attempt to beat them, but an attempt to prove that you belonged among these people who had to complete a fitness test to qualify, when you didn’t.

As you cross the finish line you can’t help but feel proud of yourself, you weren’t the most athletic person and a mile was an achievement, and at twelve minutes, and fifteen seconds for a mile at an easy pace you weren’t doing too bad.

“That was a good warm-up guys, now for the three mile. Again, I don’t want you to worry about this too much, because we will be completing it every day for the rest of the course, and you will get better. But as a benchmark, I would be expecting about 36-38 minutes for this. Off you go!”

And off you went again, this time you kept behind the remainder of the group, who had started off pretty quickly for what was going to be three circuits of the mile track.

As you ran you gathered your thoughts. With the Doyle case you had been practically abandoned. Spencer and Garcia were hauled up in her office, and from the glimpses of Rossi you barely saw, reviewing and consulting on cases seemed to be time-consuming work.

You had spent the remainder of yesterday reviewing some materials Spencer had dropped on your desk from the academy lectures. They were pretty self-explanatory, and anything you didn’t know was pretty simple to remember considering you would quickly jot it down, solidifying it in your mind.

By the time you had finished Spencer and Garcia had resurfaced to check on you. And even though you insisted that you were happy to stay and help them in any other ways, they had insisted you had gone home, much to your chagrin.

You had walked home to an empty, undecorated apartment. It felt pretty lonely, and you didn’t want to be there if you could avoid it. In a rush decision you had grabbed your laptop bag, and quickly walked down the street to a local diner. There you sat, scrolling through various medical journals, and hopeful articles regarding technological advancement in the forensic fields. It was at midnight that they sent you packing, in an attempt to close for the evening.

Cheers and screams pulled you back to reality as you crossed the finish line, barely acknowledging the fact you had completed your three miles.

“L/N, L/N! Stop, you did the three.” The instructor jogs over to you patting you on the shoulder, and that’s when you had the sense to turn, trying to spot the remainder of your team, who were only on the first quarter of their final mile.

“How- I’m done?”

“Yeah, you’re a speedy one. This programme will be a breeze for you, provided you can shoot.” He grins at you, and you smile back, breathing a sigh of relief. You were glad you weren’t the worst of the group.

“You’re a doctor, right?” You nod slowly, letting the SSA guide you towards the bleacher.

“Yeah, Dr. Y/N L/N. The medical kind.” He laughs at this, offering you his hand to shake.

“SSA. Jonathan Smith.” You happily take his hand, and shake it, casting your gaze to the rest of the runners who were half-way through their final mile.

“I’ve heard all about you, from Agent Hotchner of course. I was a bit sceptical when he told me you were bypassing a lot of the academy. Now that I’ve met you though, I can see why.” You grin, picking up your water bottle and taking a long gulp.

“I really want to be here, I’m just not sure I can shoot a gun.” You laugh, and he grins.

“Don’t worry, that’s why we’re here.”

Slowly the group assembles at the finish line, the few who had strayed behind catching up, and proving themselves significantly.

“Good job, our final runner finished on just over thirty-eight minutes, so you guys are spot on. Give yourselves a round of applause.” You can see all the others, grinning wide as they applaud themselves, and you can’t help it either. There was a massive sense of achievement in just completing the warm-up.

“Okay, there’s an uneven number so I will take one of you individually, and then we will have two other pairs, who will go with SSA. Alex and SSA. Jameson.” He gestures to two agents who have joined him at the front, offering you small waves at the respective mention of their names.

“L/N, you will be with me.” You make your way over to SSA Smith, as the rest of the four get sorted into their pairs, with their supervisory agent.

“I’m hoping that the individual time will be beneficial for you, and that you might learn quicker this way. Is that okay?” You nod. You were definitely grateful for Smith’s help, he had already proven to be really kind, and dedicated to your training.

“That’s great, thanks sir.”

“Oh, please just call me Jonathan.”

-

“Alright, up first we have firearms.” You grimace slightly which causes Jonathan to laugh.

“It’s not that bad, we just have some basic rules. Treat all firearms as if they are loaded, keep your finger off the trigger until you intend to press it, and never point a firearm at anyone unless you are justified.” You nod, settling into a serious mode.

“Okay, so here’s a holster, you’re going to put that on your belt.” You quickly follow his directions, placing the holster where it feels most comfortable to grab from.

“Is that comfortable? You’ve positioned it further forwards than most people.” You nod, motioning as if you were to reach from it as Jonathan hums in approval.

“Okay, if that’s good I’m going to give you your training weapon and ammunition.” You quickly accept his instruction as he shows you how to load and unload the Glock.

He quickly explains how to release the safety and shoot, and then he offers you the Glock.

“Take a few shots and see how it feels.” You guffaw at him slightly.

“Sir, I-I’ve never shot a gun in my life, I’m going to miss.”

“That’s okay, we call it training for a reason, I’ll stand behind you and help you hold it until you get used to it. I’m not expecting you to hit a target first time, you’re just getting used to it okay?” You nod, stepping up to the mark.

Jonathan, placed himself behind you, resting his hand on top of yours over the weapon to support it until you get used to the recoil.

“When you’re ready give me three shots, as close or as far apart as you wish.” You nod, adjusting your stance and then you pull the trigger.

The gunshot echoes throughout the large warehouse building and you pause, feeling the reverberation against your chest.

“You hit the target, which is great. Two more!” Your eyes scan the target, noticing he was right. To the left of the paper man’s shoulder sat a bullet hole.

In quick succession you took two more shots, more prepared for them this time, and each time you hit just outside of your target.

“That was great! Do you think you could hold it yourself?” You nod, your gaze remaining focused on the target.

You feel Jonathan step away and you prepare to focus, aligning your hand with your target, ensuring that you had foresight. And you took three more shots, this time hitting the target’s left shoulder.

“That’s great Y/N. Put the safety on and holster your weapon for me.” You quickly flip the safety, sliding the weapon into your holster and turn, unable to hold back the wide grin on your face.

“Good job Y/N, are you sure you haven’t done this before?” You shake your head quickly, still grinning like an idiot.

“-Y/N?” You both turn quickly at the sound of a voice interrupting you.

“Spencer?” You grin shyly up at the male towering over you. He was wearing goggles, and ear defenders similar to you.

“How are you? Is this academy training?” You nod at him.

“She’s never shot a gun before, and she still managed to hit the target.” Jonathan pipes up, clearly revelling in your victory. You feel your cheeks heat up.

A smile settles on Spencer’s face, as he studies the target, noticing the three hits, each getting more and more accurate.

“Good job, that’s amazing!” Spencer smiles, his gaze turning to the ground hiding a blush that rivalled your own.

“What are you doing down here, I thought you would be busy with Garcia?”

Spencer sighs, at your question, his grin dropping a bit.

“I like to come down to just blow off steam, after all that’s happened this year-“ Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as you realise, he means Emily’s death. You really wished you would stop walking yourself into discussions involving her, especially considering you knew she was very much alive.

“O-oh well, I’ll let you get on with it.” You stutter quickly, trying to regain your composure.

“Y-yeah, you’ll be stopping by later, won’t you? I-I’ll see you then.” He waves and strides away in quick succession, heading straight for the door as you furrow your brows. You turn to see a grin on Jonathan’s face.

“That wasn’t Dr. Spencer Reid by any chance, was it?” You find yourself confused as you nod.

“Yeah, it was.” Jonathan’s eyes widen slightly at this.

“Isn’t he like, a genius?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t think intelligence can be accurately measured, which would mean that technically ‘genius’ doesn’t exist-“ You trail off as you realise you are rambling.

“-yeah, he’s a genius.”

-

You quickly press the button for the sixth floor, relaxing as the elevator begins to carry towards the BAU.

You were aware that you looked a mess, you were dressed in an FBI sweatsuit, and your hair was damp after your much-needed shower. Luckily for you The Obstacle Course had been your final challenge for the day and running a mile in mud whilst leaping and climbing various obstacles left you yearning the sensation of hot water against stiff muscles.

You felt as though you could sleep, but it was still only three o’ clock and you didn’t want to leave until at least six; it felt mean to go home when the rest of the team would still be stuck in the office.

The elevator dings, pulling you out of your thoughts. Quickly you slung your gym bag over your shoulder and made your way towards the double-glass doors that had seemed so intimidating yesterday.

Your nerves hadn’t exactly worn off, yet, but you certainly felt more relaxed. It was more the people that made you feel anxious than the actual job. You had so many team members, and you wanted to be friends with all of them, but you were perpetually awkward and even the interactions you had with Spencer ended in you both being obscenely flustered.

“Y/N, Hi!” Garcia perks up as you enter the BAU doors, clattering towards you on her heels to engulf you in a warm hug. Though you weren’t one for physical contact, it was weirdly exactly what you needed, and you felt yourself relax in her arms.

“Don’t strangle her Garcia.” You jump slightly at the second voice coming from behind you and you turn to see Agent Rossi, grinning over a cup of coffee. Garcia releases you and you turn to face him, giving him a quick wave.

“You had academy I assume?” You nod quickly, as he takes in your attire.

“U-uhm yes sir.”

He chuckles at your formalities.

“Rossi is fine.” You nod, walking towards the coffee machine and searching for a mug.

“I keep a spare one, you can use that.” You hear Spencer’s voice echo from your left, and you jump yet again.

“You’re a jumpy one doctor.” Garcia grins as you straighten. She taps you affectionately on your nose which makes you jump again, but this time you bang your head against an overhead cabinet.

You gasp on impact, clutching the back of your head as Garcia takes a step back apologising profusely.

Spencer on the other hand rushes towards you, placing his hand over the hand you were using to cradle your head, and another on your shoulder. He slowly walks backwards, guiding you towards the break room table and sits you down.

“Are you okay?” You chuckle lightly, trying to break the awkwardness.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…. jumpy?” Spencer grins at this. He drops his hand, making his way towards a fridge-freezer.

“I-I’m so sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to, I-“ You take in the frantic woman who sits opposite you.

“Garcia, it’s fine… seriously. It’s just a bump.” Spencer promptly returns to your side and sits in the chair beside you. In his outstretched hand is an icepack wrapped in a kitchen towel, which you gratefully accept.

Garcia’s phone startles you out of your silent reverie, as she receives a notification. Quickly she bustles away, obviously going to take care of it.

-

“Okay, we have an address for Doyle, can you guys hear me, okay?!” Garcia talks loudly down her office phone as Rossi, Spencer, and yourself stand beside her, reading the screens over her shoulder.

Garcia reems off the address as you stare off into space, JJ’s voices quickly pulling you back to reality.

“Morgan and I are headed there now, I’ve called Hotch. Spencer, Rossi, I need you both to go to Declan’s house. I know he went home from school early, but considering how dangerous this takedown is, we want him in FBI custody in case he gets away and flees with the child.”

The phone quickly hangs up after that.

Garcia Rossi and Spencer get up, quickly making their way to the door. Spencer, however, pauses turning towards you as you cluelessly follow him.

“We’re probably going to be here all night; you can stay if you want? If not, go home and get some rest.” You watch as Spencer bounces on the balls of his feet, he quickly gestures for you to walk with him.

“I’m tired but I think I will stay, maybe I can be useful?” Spencer smiles, nodding at you.

“Tell you what, go into Hotch’s office, there’s a pull-out sofa in there. Sleep for a few hours and I can wake you if anything interesting happens?” He quickly jogs towards the elevator, meeting Rossi inside.

“I’ll call Garcia and tell her to let you into the office.” You quickly nod, furrowing your brows as the elevator door shuts.

You turn towards the clattering of heels to your right.

“Spencer texted me, he said you needed to sleep and to help you with the pull-out bed in Hotch’s office?” You smile, nodding at Garcia.

You weren’t too happy with the concept of sleeping whilst everyone else was out risking their lives. However, as soon as Spencer had mentioned the word sleep you had felt a deep desire to curl up in a corner somewhere and doze. The academy had taken a lot out of you, and you were feeling the consequences.

Garcia however, acted like people sleeping in Hotch’s office was a regular thing and she very happily grabbed a blanket and pillows from the cupboard, handing them to you as she unlocked Hotch’s office, making a beeline for the sofa.

“This thing is so handy you know? If anyone’s ever tired on long cases where they have some free time, but not enough to go home, there’s fights over it. Every office in here has one actually.” You stifle a yawn, watching as Penelope quickly unfolds the sofa out into a decent sized double bed.

“Okay, that should be all good. I’ll leave you too it, you can close those blinds or leave them open if you feel more comfortable, and the light switch is just over there.

“Thanks Garcia.” You yawn for real this time, placing the pillows down on the bed and smiling as she waves at you through the window, before disappearing back into her office.

You relish in the silence as you dawdle around the office still holding one pillow in your left arm, hugging it tightly to your chest.

You close the blinds and flick the lights off, sighing as the room settles into darkness. You absolutely needed a nap, and you were glad you had taken the opportunity. It was nearing eight o’clock and after the day being so busy you just needed a reset.

So, you took your blanket and curled up on the sofa bed, hugging your pillow tightly to your chest as you dazed off into a deep slumber.

-

You stir in your sleep as the door to Hotch’s office opens, allowing the bustle of the BAU bullpen to overtake what was the peace-and-quiet of Hotch’s office.

As you open your eyes, you feel the confusion setting in. In your dazed state you couldn’t quite recognise the room you were in.

“Y/N? It’s Spencer, we are having a meeting and you should probably join us.” You sit up on your elbows to see Spencer standing at the end of the room. Nodding you unravelled yourself from the blanket and stood, swaying on your feet slightly.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhmm. Wait. You said a meeting, you were just at Declan’s house, is everything okay?” You pause slightly in the doorway as Spencer walks out of the office. He gestures for you to follow him.

“Declan is gone, but JJ and Morgan have managed to arrest Doyle, he’s being brought into custody here and we are hoping he will be able to give us information on Declan.” You groan, rubbing your eyes with your palms.

“Not the kid…” Spencer nods, silently agreeing with you. Declan had gone through enough in his life, he didn’t need a kidnapping on top of that; no kid did.

“Oh, also, Hotch is back-“ You nod slightly, trying not to stress too much at this concept.

As you approached the roundtable room you could hear the chatter amongst the BAU members, and when they came into view you couldn’t help but smile.

“Dr. L/N, it’s good to have you here, I’m so sorry about all of this.” You smile at Agent Hotchner, shaking your head.

“Don’t worry about it.” The rest of the team offer you kind smiles as you settle in your chairs, ready to begin the meeting.

“Okay, so where’s Morgan?”

“He refused to leave Doyle’s side, so they will arrive together” JJ offers Hotch a slight smile as he nods.

“Okay, in the meantime I would like to talk to you Y/N.” You quickly rise from your chair, following him out of the room, waiting for him to close the door behind you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I really am. I know it’s not ideal for you at all.” You quickly attempt to reassure him.

“It’s fine Hotch, really. I want to be here.” He nods, giving you a slight smile.

“I also wanted to let you know in advance, JJ and I have called Emily back, and she will be here any minute. Just prepare yourself, I don’t know how the rest of the team are going to react.”

The sound of a door opening pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn to see JJ.

“I just got a message; Derek is here with Doyle. Emily is five minutes away, Declan tried to call her.”

Hotch simply nods, guiding you back into the roundtable room, and sending you back to your seat.

You chatter a bit with the team trying to catch up on the case.

“So is Doyle responsible for Declan’s disappearance?” You furrow your brows, trying to wrap your head around all this chaos.

“It’s the most likely possibility, yes.” You nod at Spencer’s answer.

The truth of the matter was cases involving children had always hit you the hardest, no child deserved the situation Declan had grown up in. He was the son of an international terrorist, and Emily Prentiss had faked his death in order to give him a better life. Perhaps she was the only one who showed him a glimpse of what caring for a child was like?

Soon enough Derek had joined you, looking incredibly frustrated.

“Doyle’s in the interrogation room, I had a crack at him.” Derek’s face morphs into one of impatience.

“He didn’t do it Hotch, he’s insisting we release him to let him find his son.”

“So, we need to find out if he has any enemies, right?”

“Well Richard Geracey is a known enemy of Doyle; he’s been in the States for a couple weeks. I caught an image of him on a surveillance camera at Declan’s house.” Garcia pipes up, quickly displaying an image on the screen.

“He’s a suspect. Derek, go talk to him.” He stands.

As Derek disappears out of the door an idea hits you.

“Geracey couldn’t have pulled this off all on his own, I mean, Garcia saw two people destroying the security camera.” You keep your eyes glued to JJ as you speak, trying to tell whether or not you were being a hinderance.

“Well statistically the people most likely to be involved in-“

You had barely noticed that Hotch had left the room until he had returned with Derek by his side, cutting off Reid and telling everyone to sit.

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team.” JJ quickly stands up as you begin to realise what’s happening.

You quickly glance around the room seeing curious looks on everyone’s faces. Uh oh, you didn’t want to be a part of this conversation. Teammates who think their colleague has been dead for 7 months, then find out she’s actually alive are bound to be mad about the whole thing.

“As you all know Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. Both the doctors were able to stabilise her-”

You began to panic slightly, you were in a room with profilers, they were bound to realise you were tense, or uncomfortable, right?

“-and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.” As Hotch reems off the information you were already fully aware of you study the team, noticing the look of realisation on their faces.

“Her identity was strictly need-to-known, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

The team remained silent as they gazed up towards Hotch and JJ. Their faces were a mixture of confusion, and what appeared to be anger.

“She’s alive?” Garcia’s voice was meek, and it broke your heart to see the tears forming in her eyes.

Hotch stays quiet at this, averting his gaze.

“But we buried her?”

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife and all you could do was sit there, fidgeting anxiously in your chair.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.” You offer Hotch a small smile and a nod as his gaze lands on you.

“Any issues?! Yeah, I got issues!” The tone of Derek’s voice causes you to jump slightly, and you felt your cheeks heat up as Spencer’s eyes settled on you.

But they quickly turn to focus on the sound of footsteps entering the room. A dark-haired woman walks through the door. The woman you recognised as Emily Prentiss.

She was gorgeous, her striking hair contrasting against her skin. Her face was set in a solemn look as her eyes trailed over her former teammates.

But you are pulled out of your train of thought by Agent Hotchner, who bustles you up from your seat and walks you towards the door, closing it slightly behind him he offers you a slight smile.

“Y/N, you don’t have to mention your involvement, not if you don’t want to.” You nod at this.

“Are they going to be mad?”

“Probably, but it was a life-or-death situation and I need to stand by my decision.”

“Yes sir.”

“Listen, you’ve had a long day. How about you go back to my office and get some rest, we will be here awhile.” You shake your head quickly at this.

“No, no, sir I’m fine. I really want to stay and help.”

“We can wake you if we need you.” You give in to the idea of sleep, it was the early hours of the morning and you had been up at the crack of dawn the previous day.

“I- okay, fine. But -uhm- I was just wondering, have you looked into Declan’s mother? I mean I know Doyle is his father, but we have no idea who-“ You pause, watching as Hotch offers you a smile.

“We will certainly look into that Y/N, now get some rest.”

And for the second time that night, you curl up onto Hotch’s sofa bed, arms wrapped tightly around a pillow, but you didn’t sleep.

Your mind ran rampant with ideas, and conspiracies as to who could have taken Declan Doyle. You knew that Geracey had something to do with it, he was a known enemy of Doyle’s after some form of conflict in Belfast. But the team had no idea who Declan’s mother is, but it was likely there was some conflict between her and Doyle, considering she wasn’t with them anymore.

You felt so hopeless, you were lacking the means to gather information because Hotch had sent you to a bed at a time where sleep will not come. Out there somewhere was a little boy, being paraded around, likely as a second best to Doyle, since he was in federal custody. That child hadn’t asked to be involved in any of this, he was simply taken from school, from his home.

Gazing at your phone screen you realised half-an-hour had passed, and you were just about to get up out of the bed when there was a light tapping on your door; it was Penelope Garcia.

“Garcia?” You whisper as the silhouette wastes no time in entering the dark room, dragging the light in with her.

“I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep and that considering the rest of the team are still brainstorming in here I could come in for some one-on -one time? You seem like you are a good idea bouncer-offer.” You chuckle at this, moving upright on the bed.

“Yeah sure, absolutely.”

“Okay so first I’m going to catch you up. Basically, Declan’s nanny took him home from school after he contracted food poisoning, so whoever is responsible for his kidnapping tainted food, and got to him on campus.”

“We have established that Geracey is in some sort of conspiracy with a woman, who posed as agents for the next shift at surveying Declan, they killed the nanny, and the actual agents and then took the child.”

“A woman?”

“Yes, so we got thinking about women who have had relations to Doyle, and of course Hotch had mentioned you talking about his mother. So, Emily managed to give us a compiled list and now we are trying to break Doyle, but it doesn’t seem to be working. They have been in there for the past fifteen minutes.” You nod slightly, turning to the door which swung open suddenly.

“Y/N?” You recognised the voice as Spencer’s, watching as he stepped into the room, taking not of Garcia.

“She told you everything?” You nod as Spencer gives you a tight-lipped smile.

Garcia seems to get some form of signal from him because she quickly makes an excuse to leave, bustling past Spencer and towards her ‘bat cave’.

“I know this is -uhm- a lot to ask, but we were wondering if you would interview Doyle?”

-

Story Masterlist - (1) - (2)

Authors Note: Wow! I hope you guys are enjoying this? I made reader's background quite specific as it made it easier to weave in bonding between her and that characters. I also love having fun with how lucky she is for all of this to happen to her?!?! I mean it's not 100% realistic (but then again, no Spencer Reid fanfic is?) but either way, go get it girl! <3

[theoceanoasis]

Hope you are better

You could continue the au where Roddy is a mer that his owners want him to have babies but they don't want it to be with a couple so Roddy stays beautiful and they can show him off.

It could be something like Roddy in the absence of his mate and the depression that caused him to start losing his colors because he got sick from loneliness and his owners first try to get him healed, but when he doesn't get better they throw him away. He should be rescued by an aquarium that has a sanctuary of mers that were in captivity. He may find friends there to help him, but whoever saved him (perhaps Ratchet or Perceptor) may look for his mate because he could inevitably die if he remains separated from Soundwave.

I love the drama and You have de touch to write it <3

His owners banged on the glass and he moaned feeling a headache form. His whole body hurt as he laid there wrapping his tail around himself.

He was exhausted and couldn't do anything except sleep. Outside his tank he could hear his master's talking obviously unhappy.

They couldn't shock him because they didn't want to risk the pups he was carrying. The thought made him unbearably sad and he felt like crying because he didn't have a mate.

He was all alone and he didn't want to be alone anymore he wanted his mate. He sobbed uncontrollably calling out for someone who couldn't answer.

Pharma ended up being called and roughly looked him over. Even though he was carrying pups he'd lost weight from not eating. His once vibrant colors were slowly turning gray as he refused to take care of himself. Unable to live without his mate.

Mers swam in pods because they were social creatures. When they mated with someone it was for life and if something happens to their mate they oftentimes don't survive.

Pharma looked irritated as he checked him over and then told his mater's the news. Neither of them looked happy and he found himself listening in.

The facility that was keeping his mate had been seized. The mers had been taken and Pharma couldn't get him.

When he heard this he sobbed and refused to do anything just wanting to die. He didn't care anymore and was tired of living. All he wanted was his mate and now he'd never get him.

His master's were angry by this change and no amount of banging on the glass or threatening could make him do anything.

They were disgusted by how he looked. Instead of the pretty multicolored mer they used to have. They now had a scraggly looking mess who was an ugly gray color.

Whenever they saw him they sneered obviously unhappy with his appearance and wanting Pharma to do something.

The doctor of course informed them there was nothing he could do. Without his mate he was going to die and they might as well get rid of him.

His master's decided to do exactly that and ended up dumping him somewhere. It was a shady facility where the water was always dirty and the mers were starved. None of them said anything too exhausted and sick all of them looking about ready to die with their dull colors.

Then one day police came and the mers were transported to different facilities. He didn't care and just laid there not doing anything as he was loaded up. He was so exhausted and he just wanted to die.

He was introduced to a man named Ratchet who looked him over. Unlike with Pharma his checkup didn't hurt.

When Ratchet realized he was sparked he looked worried and decided to closely monitor him. The facility he was inside was a lot nicer and he had more freedom. The people who worked there treated all of them with respect and no one ever hurt him.

Even though life was better he continued to lay on the floor refusing to move. He barely ate only eating when Ratchet made him as he waited to die. He wanted his mate so badly and he continued crying out for him.

Ratchet and some of the others tried asking questions. All of them thought his mate was dead until he informed them that they'd never even met. He didn't even know his mates name and the only thing he had to remember him by was his pups and his smell.

Even after everything he was determined to remember that much. Just in case they ever had the chance to meet. Even though he knew it was unlikely.

The workers at the facility though seemed determined to help him find his mate something that gave him hope and made him try to live. Which made Ratchet happy.

He didn't know how long they'd been trying to find his mate but he knew his pups would be coming soon. His instincts were telling him to prepare even if it felt wrong not having his mate with him.

He should be helping him set up his nest and get everything ready for their pups. Instead he was having to do it alone and it filled him with sadness.

The staff who worked at the facility couldn't help him because they were busy getting ready for a transfer.

He was a dangerous mer who's last chance at survival was this facility, otherwise he would have to be put down. He couldn't return to the ocean after what's been done to him but he was too violent to keep at a facility. He had hurt numerous people and mers who'd gotten too close and after severely injuring someone at the last facility he was transferred here.

Finishing with his nest he found himself watching as a truck pulled up. He wasn't really paying attention and was just listening to the staff talk amongst each other in the hopes of helping him feel less alone.

The door opened and there was a shout of alarm as a mer crawled out. He looked pissed and his fangs snapped at anyone who came too close.

He watched as the mer looked around the facility and the two of them made optic contact. He froze unable to move as the two stared at each other.

His optics widened when he recognized the smell and he found himself crying out for his mate. The mer must have also realized something because he dragged himself over. Both of them were calling to each other and if it wasn't for his belly getting in the way. He would have jumped out of the tank he was inside.

Soundwave rushed forward ignoring the facilities staff as he climbed into the tank with him. He could hear people frantically talking but he didn't care.

The two of them wrapped their arms and tails around each other and he cried in his arms. The mer touched a gentle hand on his belly looking shocked and happy when he realized he was sparked.

He cuddled against him never wanting to separate from him again.

"My names Hot Rod."

"Soundwave."

His mate pulled him closer and bit down on his neck to claim him. He shivered from the pain and then moaned when warmth flooded his body.

Soundwave's spike came out and he pressed it into his leaking slit causing him to gasp. He felt him slide all the way inside and it felt like coming home.

The two of them fragged for hours and only stopped when Soundwave ended up inducing labor.

[asrichin]

cw : suicidal behavior/thoughts. suicidal! Reader. Avoidant, distant! Reader. Reader death. ED (eating disorder). Overall, heavy on mental health issues. :)

Read at your own risk!

As days starting to pass by, you wonder, what is the will to even live? You're already dead a long ago,then what is the point to keep surviving? It's pointless.

Eating feels like a chore, to supply at least energy, so you wouldn't die out of hunger (or you're basically force to eat by him). Even worse, Akaashi makes sure to keep you on track, to keep you alive. The fact you're barely gives your needs to the least requirements are killing him (mentally and physically).

Besides, he'll leave at some point,right?

“y/n, you have to eat this,please.” ... “y/n.”

Akaashi's plead fell on deaf ears. He sat on the edge of your bed, with the bowl of porridge in his hands, trying to feed you. Since it what he manages to get you to eat most of the time, and it's simple. “i made it with pure love and effort,” ... “you know you need nutrients, to survive,right?” he asked, looking at you. Eyes pleading for you to please, at least to meet the minimum requirements.

a low grumble, as you shifted yourself and looked at him. Those eyebags. It hurts him to the core of his heart. “..do you want me to put it on the table..or?” Akaashi spoke, still looking at you with a small, concerned smile. And you nodded, reciprocate his smile with yours. He hates that smile, it was genuine, but filled with how much you had gone through.

“i will eat it later.” Liar.

“promise?”

“..pinky promise.”

Akaashi just stared at you. Liar. You never really eat on time, which he hated that so,so much. Even if you assures him you'll eat it later, it's a white lie.

He tries, really. To believe every words you spit out,But it's unbelievable. Although, at least, you promised.

“eat it, alright?” he stood up, placing the bowl on the nightstand with a sigh. Since when did he vowed to do this?

..

It's draining. He has tried everything . Everything.

But at last, it didn't work. Now what he could do?

Standing beside your grave, he wasn't that stupid to left any sign you had given. It just, he doesn't know how to help other than giving you a hand in the basics, etc. eating, hygiene. He really tried.

“you could have talk it out with me,but I guess.” sobs

“sleep peacefully,okay? I'll help you clean your apartment,y/n.” Akaashi murmured between his sobs. “here, take these flowers, it's your favorite,right?”

I hope you rest in peace.

..

“oh my god,y/n.” Akaashi mused, shaking you, trembling slightly. From the blood basically on your bare arms. It made his blood creep. Infact, you are unconscious, and that's not alright. “y/n, I swear to god, wake up. Wait—Im calling the 911!”

This time for sure, there will no answers;response from you. He wanted to cry, but he needs to stay calm, be rational. The thoughts were overwhelming.

“hello, it's 911—” when he heard from the other line of his phone, his hands were shaking badly.

“my friend is unconscious, address—‘xx’. Be quick,I beg you–” Akaashi spoke, trying to remain calm, but the panic starting to get through him.

..

Yeah. Maybe it's pointless.

But I'll never regret being by your side,y/n.

and I'll make sure to make you feel valuable, until my last breath—or yours. Even if I failed on that.

..

“hey y/n, do you want to walk with us?” Bokuto's voice rang through your ears.

“yeah,sure.” you answered with your usual smile. As you slide your bag onto your shoulder, ready to go back home.

“come on, let's go.” Akaashi, who's waiting at the classroom's door. Per usual, the trio that would walk home together whenever school is over.

Sharing giggles and shit, laughing over the smallest things. teenagers. Growing up is so scary, for Akaashi.

Afraid of changes. metathesiophobia.

maybe, he has hoped you stayed. So you,Bokuto and him could just stay as the trio.

That now has become a duo.

[lonely--seeker]

I made a Tiger and Bunny bookmark, I drew op fanart, I made a real life version of my Sona's mask and I started crocheting that cute bunny from Tiger and Bunny... I just love the creation juice that just posseses my hands and things come out of it. It's purely insane. Purely joy. Half magic and half sorcery with the finest flavour of oh shit i fucked that up oh shit oh fu k

[bonefall]

Does leopard still have 3 lives in her final battle? Or was that changed?

Yep. I think she drowned her once, then Leopardstar lunges up refreshed, and she gets the upper paw on Mistyfoot with 2 lives to go.

(MAYBE tw gore, but I really did try to be tasteful about a head being smashed on a rock.)

On her back, splashing and thrashing furiously against Leopardstar's claws dunking her head under, Mistyfoot glimpses a wave breaking just over the tip of a stone-blue rock. Her only chance.

With a surge of power, her claws sink into her leader's golden shoulder and they tumble and roll to the right. Before the tyrant even realizes what's happening, she's yanked up, and then whipped backwards with a wet CRUNCH

And then again

And again

And again, until Mistyfoot can't even make out what's left of her leader anymore. All she can see is that it's a red, brown, and yellow blur, because her eyes burning with salty tears and her whole body is trembling.

She drops the corpse onto the stone and it slides into the water, lifelessly. After a moment it spasms aimlessly one last time, like an insect does after its head is bitten off, unlike the deliberate, agonized throes of Tigerstar suffering through his doomed lives. And then it's still.

There's only the tranquil sound of bubbling water, and Mistyfoot's frenzied panting. Her pounding heart makes it hard to hear either.

The blood is carried off by the shallow water in scarlet swirls, but the lake runs pale red as if it's washing it away. Some were aware of this prophecy, but Mistyfoot was not.

It isn't closure to her, or a fulfillment of divine decree. It's just blood that should be on her paws, slicked away by the complicit river. She wished it could feel like it's over, but she's smart enough to know the truth. Has been through enough terrible events like this to understand what comes next.

Her body will move foward. Her mind will need to consider her deputy. Her paw will come down on code-defying cats like Blackclaw and Greenflower. But her heart will stay here, next to the remains of Leopardstar, the same way another piece of it remains at Stonefur's side across space and time.

[skunkes]

if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.

[fiendishartist2]

//today, today, is one of those days, stuck between yesterday and tomorrow//

[seasaltmemories]

Thinking about my boy

[rotisseries]

it's still wednesday where I'm at if your clock is 30 minutes off so here's my wip wednesday post for my day 1 @bylerween2023 fic!! ghosts my beloved

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Jingliu

[bunnihearted]

ʚ🕯ɞ

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[pageofheartdj]

I fucking hate this world /hj