#may in her rebellious face

[hisbucky]

Athena: I know you snuck out last night. Buck: No, I didn't. Athena: I'm not mad, just tell me what you did. Buck: No, seriously, I didn't. Eddie snuck in. It was his turn this week. Athena, blinks: Tabling that discussion for another time, who did I hear last night...? Buck, without hesitation: It was May. May, betrayed: Buck, no!

[januaryembrs]

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.

next chpt.

main masterlist.

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!!

[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!!

[nmakii]

hello! it is me again

What do you think if Alastor had a breeding fetish? (Idk if that's how it's written, English is not my native language 😿) oops! It would be nice if you brought some of that to the second part of "no one's better than I am" __if you wanted to ;)

| thanks for your time|

TYING YOU TO ME… ᡣ𐭩

— having you return to alastor, he was more than ecstatic. but, he has to make sure you don’t run off again.

— includes semi-nsfw n pregnancy… i dont condone alastors actions!!

alastor does not want kids. he isn’t against them, but he is rather busy. if he were to be asked, he wouldn’t be the best father either. he doesn’t have much of an idea of how to discipline children, nor does he enjoy playing.

oh, but with his pretty wife home, alastor has to make sure she stays, shouldn’t he? we wouldn’t want another man sweeping you off your feet. neither would he want you running off to the newspapers knowing his little secret— alastor would rather raze the town than hurt his little doe more than necessary.

oh, and, not to mention how gorgeous you’d look; a motherly glow radiating from your skin as you grow a child inside you— a child that was the mixed blood of you and alastor. how you would look so pretty rocking your child to sleep, alastor standing behind you, holding your waist and keeping steady.

alastor gazed at you in awe as you wiped the kitchen counter clean. he took your face in the palm of his hands, kissing you deeply and lovingly, as if your little rebellious incident had never happened.

“alastor? what’s wrong..?” you looked to him confused. “nothing’s amiss at all, dear. just admiring the sights.” he hummed, holding you by the waist as he pushes you onto the now-clean kitchen counters.

as his hands trail further, undoing the knot of your apron— he placed kisses down your neck. “i love you so very much, darling.” he sighed. “say you’re mine, won’t you? say that you belong to me as i do to you.” he pleaded.

your breath hitched as you hesitated. “i… i’m yours, alastor.” you let out, heart stopping a beat as shivers were sent down your spine. did you truly fall in love with him? alastor groaned, smiling widely at your saccharinely sweet words. “ahaha! oh, my dear…” he laughed ecstatically, almost predatorily.

“may i?” he asked, holding the zipper of your dress between his fingers. as you nodded timidly, he noticed your chaste behavior. “what’s wrong, dear? nervous?” he mused. “no… it’s just… i didn’t expect you of all people to… have sexual relations.” you said, slowly as you pick the right words.

“hmph, i’m not particularly fond of them.” was all that alastor said. and though, for the most part, it was true; engaging such physical acts is… repulsive to say the very least. whatever was necessary to keep you in this house. even if he had to make you bear his child in order to do so.

because… this is love, isn’t it? alastor loves you so very much, he’s willing to give you his everything. even the things he wouldn’t want to give.

he pulled you off of the counter, bringing you to the bedroom and he lays you down. taking out a condom. after all, you still have to stay safe.

fuck, how did this happen? you sat, shaken in your doctor’s office as she removed the gloves from her hands. so, it was true? you were… pregnant?

the very thought made you sick to your stomach. that last encounter 3 weeks ago… there was protection. alastor is always very attentive to important matters such as this, there’s no way that your contraceptive wouldn’t have worked unless… it was tampered with.

the thought of him doing such a thing behind your back brought you anger. simmering inside you as you waited for him to return home. “oh darling, i’m home! don’t you look absolutely magnificent?” he grinned.

“break it up, alastor!” you frowned. “oh? what ever have i done?” he asked, big eyes as looked so innocent— he wasn’t even hiding his guilt! “you… messed with the contraceptive, didn’t you?” you said, standing from your seat at the table.

“hmm… so you are with child after all?” he grinned ear to ear. “so, what if i did?” he shrugged. "it’s not as if you have another means to live, i’m the only one who will take care of you.”

“so you did..!” your face scrunched in anger, ready to rip this man to shreds. “ahaha… calm down, dear. all this stress isn’t well for our child.” he rested his hands on your shoulder and stomach, gentle, almost soothing— almost able to make you forget the ordeal he put you in.

“don’t you want this child to grow up with a father? i’ll take care of everything you could ever want for, my cute little doe. just stay here in this house, and we’ll be a happy family.” he said, sweet nothings falling out of his mouth. how foolish honestly.

did you truly think you could nurture that monster into a man?

[hanafubukki]

Imagine having soulmates in Twisted Wonderland. Soulmates could be platonic or romantic.

Soulmates were connected in various ways. Some had the red string of fate, some the other’s eye color, some had words on the body, and others could hear voices.

For Lilia Vanrouge, it was colors.

He couldn’t see certain colors until he met his soulmates.

The first time he saw the color silver was when he was introduced to Meleanor Draconia. Her clothing and jewelry gave way to her status but also her fierce nature.

The first time he saw the color blue was when he met Levan. What a fitting color for somone so kind and calm. The perfect complimentary color to silver.

The years pass on, and yet, Lilia still couldn’t see certain colors.

What was green, purple, and red to him? When he had never known them? Who knew it would change his life so drastically when he first saw them?

The first time Lilia sees green; it appeared at the time of Malleus’ birth. The sharp acid color stood out to him as he hold onto the little fae. So feisty and rebellious just like his mother with fire spitting out of his mouth. As kind as his father as the baby fae then licked at his cheek in regret of any injury he may have given. A son born out of his love.

The first time Lilia sees purple; it came about on a whim. Visiting an old castle with years of memories. Holding a babe close as the little one cried. Purple eyes emphasized by tears. The little one calming as Lilia hummed him a loving lullaby, blessing the babe right after. A son he learned to love.

Lilia saw the world in an almost complete picture. He was content with that. Not many can say they had met their soulmates. Especially someone like him, who was graced with five.

Not to say he wasn’t curious about his missing one at times. Who was it that bore the color red?

The color known for passion, desire, and happiess?

A color symbolizing destined fate?

Imagine his surprise, when he met with you one day, and he suddenly saw the color red.

What a beautiful color it was.

He understood, then, the significance of the color red and its’ tie to you.

Your passionate nature.

Your desire to live life the way you wanted.

Your desire for happiness for yourself and for others.

You who would somehow end up bringing a smile to everyone’s face, be it fond or exasperated. The way you brought one to his just by being you.

You certainly charmed him, had him falling for you.

Was it the way you smiled at him? Maybe it was when you helped with his pranks?

The way you stood up to him when it came to his family? Maybe even how you would help him cook meals despite other’s warnings.

Or maybe it was the way he allowed himself to be vulnerable to you as he gradually let you into his heart? A place he rarely let anyone in.

How he looked forward to seeing you every day? Making him look forward to the future and not run from it.

The kisses you both would share in the hallways or in your rooms? The gentle and sometimes teasing touches. Your eyes shining bright as the stars in the sky as if he was your world as you had surely become his.

Lilia knew.

It was everything about you that ensnared him so irrevocably.

Red.

It also has another meaning, didn’t it?

It was the color of love.

His world complete.

It was filled with love.

It was truly beautiful.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [13]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: Listen to 'Nobody else' by Ailee while reading this part to enhance the feels. It was on repeat for me as I wrote this story.

Part 12 | Fic Masterlist | Part 14

"Are you out of your goddamned mind? Among all the eligible women in the nation, you want the General Park Seonghwa's wife? Don't be absurd, Yeosang. They are devoted to one another and will be set to marry, as arranged by your father, His Majesty."

With a shake of her head, the Queen rubbed her temples, realising her fourth son was merely playing with her. She should have known better than to believe he would genuinely consider settling down.

"I'm serious, Mother. Don't you want me to marry?" The prince pressed, locking eyes with the elderly woman as she sighed, "Of course, I want you to marry, but not at the expense of upsetting the King's most trusted warrior. It's not feasible, my son."

As much as Her Majesty would love to entertain the idea of her son's sudden willingness to marry, she couldn't ignore the reality that going against her husband's decision was not possible. While she, as the Queen, held certain influence, especially in matters of marriage, the obstacle lay in your existing betrothal to General Park. Moreover, the deep love between you and the general was widely known.

There was no doubt that Seonghwa would raise hell if he found out about the prince's intentions of stealing his beloved from him. Even Yeosang would not be safe from his wrath by then, especially when the King was known to favour him more than his own son.

"But Mother—"

Not wanting to hear another word that could only exacerbate the conflict within her, she raised a hand to silence him, "Enough is enough, my son. None of this will happen. Besides, I am scheduled to meet the general and his wife for their wedding arrangements in a moment. I will not interfere with their marriage just because you—"

Before she could elaborate, the eunuch came stumbling in with wide eyes, "Your Majesty! The meeting with General Park and Lady Park has been cancelled; word has just gotten out that there is to be a war with Ruhon, and the general will be deployed in just a few days."

Caught off guard by the sudden revelation, Her Majesty was momentarily speechless, but she quickly composed herself and nodded, "Thank you, Eunuch Hwang. If that is all, you are dismissed."

The Queen couldn't ignore the sly grin on her son's face and shook her head, "This does not change anything, Yeosang. He may be going to war for some time, but his wife remains loyal to him."

"And if she doesn't?" He pressed on, a challenging brow raised.

She scoffed in disbelief at his words, "Do you even hear yourself? Must you pursue someone who is already unavailable?"

"Look, I understand your concerns about not wanting to upset Father, but if I can get Miss Jang to change her mind and choose me over the general, will I have your blessing then, Your Majesty?"

The mother of the nation found herself caught in conflicting emotions, torn between the desire for her son to finally settle down and the undeniable realisation that pursuing Lady Park was unequivocally wrong.

On one hand, the prospect of Yeosang embracing matrimony brought a flicker of hope to her heart. The elusive hope that her most rebellious son might, at last, find stability and commitment. The idea of him building a family, continuing the royal lineage, and securing the future of the Joseon dynasty appealed to her innate maternal instincts. This potential change in his life could be the remedy to the constant worry she harboured for him.

Yet, on the other hand, she grappled with the ethical dilemma of her son pursuing a woman who was already promised to another. The Queen, as the matriarch of the royal family, couldn't possibly condone or endorse actions that went against the principles of commitment and fidelity.

The conflicting emotions played out on her face as she considered the implications of her son's request. The desire for him to find happiness warred with the understanding that it should not come at the expense of another's commitment and love.

"Mother, were you listening? I said—"

With a heavy sigh, she fixed him with a stern gaze, "I heard you loud and clear, Yeosang. Go ahead and try all you want; I know nothing I say can stop you anyway. But don't be too disappointed when you realise she remains faithful to the one who saved her from a life of misery and has given her more love than anyone ever had. It's a losing game, and you know it, my son."

He grinned, "You know I love a challenge, Mother. She will be mine before you know it. Say all the righteous words you want; deep down, I know you want this as much as I do. That's alright, I'll be the bad guy, just as I always have been."

After smirking at his mother's apparent internal struggle, the prince left her chambers, feeling satisfied with the reaction he had provoked. He knew he had indirectly obtained her silent approval, allowing him to pursue you despite her vocal disapproval.

Pressing a palm against her forehead, the Queen muttered to herself, "Oh god, what have I done?" She was well aware that the King would not be pleased if he learned about the potential chaos that could unfold due to Yeosang's pursuit of the general's wife. The conflicting emotions within her only deepened, and she dreaded the consequences of the choices she had indirectly allowed him to make.

Meanwhile, at the general's estate, a sombre atmosphere prevailed as Jongho and Eunsook swiftly briefed all staff members about their master's imminent departure.

Although it wasn't the first time they experienced him leaving for war, it marked the first time with the new mistress around. The servants couldn't help but empathise with you, recognising that you had only recently joined the household, and now, your husband would be embarking on a lengthy absence, leaving you alone at home.

Contrary to their expectations, you appeared to be handling the news more gracefully than any of them had anticipated. The only difference in your demeanour would be the heightened display of affection. While the general typically initiated physical closeness, you became less reserved than usual. Perhaps you were cherishing every moment with him before his departure, given the uncertainty of his return.

During dinner that evening, your attention was solely devoted to looking after your husband. You carefully filled his bowl with all his favourite dishes. Whenever his long fringe obscured his vision, you instinctively reached out to delicately brush the strands away from his face, your fingers lightly tracing his cheek. The servants couldn't help but notice the unwavering gaze fixed upon him, already discerning a sense of longing in your eyes.

Eunsook had explicitly ordered that no one bothered the master and mistress after the meal, making sure that you could spend undisturbed time together. The maids were instructed to only appear when summoned.

As a result, you found yourself comfortably nestled in Seonghwa's arms within your pavilion, gazing out at the moonlit lotus pond before you, relishing in the tranquil atmosphere. Millions of thoughts coursed through both of your minds, yet neither of you spoke, preserving the serene mood.

You couldn't resist smiling in his embrace as he traced butterfly kisses from your forehead, along the side of your face, down to your neck. A small giggle escaped your lips at the ticklish sensation, and he grinned playfully. He kissed you on the ear before whispering, "Hey, Lady Park, do you want to know a secret?"

Looking up at him through squinted eyes, there was a hint of suspicion in your gaze, "What secret could you possibly be hiding from me, General Park?"

He chuckled as you played along, leaning in to murmur in your ear, "I haven't told you this before, but... I love you, my wife."

Your heart skipped a beat at hearing those three words from your husband for the first time. Seonghwa pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours and staring deeply into your eyes. Reaching up, you cupped his face with your small hands. Your heart fluttered when he kissed your palm before nestling his cheek against it again.

Braving the moment, you planted a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise, accustomed to being the initiator, but he quickly broke into a smile, closing his eyes and responding to your kiss.

In that moment, both of you cast aside thoughts of the impending war, choosing to concentrate solely on each other. His breath caught when you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him in closer. This act of boldness was new for you, but he welcomed it, tightening his hold around you.

As your lips finally parted for air, he enveloped you in a tight hug, his larger frame securely holding you. With a hand cradling the back of your head, he nuzzled his nose against your neck, committing the sensation of you in his arms to memory. It was a moment he wished could last forever.

You held him just as tightly, burying your face against his shoulder and savouring the warmth, not knowing when you would be held like this again once he leaves.

After a moment, he withdrew slightly to meet your gaze, "Wait, I just told you that I love you. Are you not going to say it back to me, Lady Park?"

With a mischievous shake of your head, you playfully stuck out your tongue, prompting him to burst into laughter. Softening your expression, you responded, "If you want to hear me say it back to you, General Park, then you'll have to come back to me safely."

He turned serious, nodding with a determined smile, "You know, I used to approach wars as if they were just games. Dying didn't matter, and I had nothing to lose. But for the first time, I'm afraid... because now I have something worth living for. It's you, my love. I promise you I will do everything in my power to return to you."

"Good afternoon, my lord." Physician Jung bowed respectfully upon entering the general's study after being summoned.

Seonghwa looked up, acknowledging the taller male's presence, "Ah yes, you're here, Yunho. Please take a seat." He gestured towards one of the two chairs positioned in front of his desk.

"Have you called me over to officially dismiss me? I'm aware Lady Park's treatment is almost done; perhaps you'd like to relieve me of my duty sooner." The doctor inquired as he sat, contemplating whether he should start packing up if that was the case.

Releasing a small sigh, your husband shook his head, "No, that's not why I called you—"

"Yah, Park Seonghwa. You better have a good reason for summoning me over so soon. Your wife's next batch of clothes is never going to be ready on time if you keep calling me over for every little thing..." Hongjoong blinked as he sauntered in, surprised to see the doctor also present and not missing the general's serious expression.

"Oh dear, I know that look. What is it?" The dressmaker winced, moving over to sit down beside Yunho.

Pressing his head into his hands, Seonghwa took a deep breath before addressing the matter, "I won't beat around the bush," Raising his head, he finally met his friends' gazes, "There is an imminent war with Ruhon, and I will be deployed to the war zone in just a few days."

Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged glances, shock etched on their faces. It had been a while since the last war, and the unexpected news hit them with a wave of concern. The government had done an excellent job of keeping such matters under wraps to prevent panic among the citizens.

After a moment of shared silence, the dressmaker leaned back in his chair, a troubled frown etched on his face, "A war? How did this come about? I thought we were in a period of relative stability."

The physician, equally perplexed, chimed in, "And so soon after your marriage. It's... unprecedented."

Your husband sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair, "I was just as blindsided by the news. His Majesty called me for an emergency meeting yesterday. It seems our diplomatic efforts with Ruhon have failed, and war is inevitable."

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Hongjoong's eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, that means your wedding ceremony..." He trailed off, feeling the weight of the situation sink in. His expression softened with genuine sympathy, and he spoke with a heavy heart, "Oh no... I'm so sorry, my friend."

Seonghwa nodded appreciatively at his friend's understanding, acknowledging the unspoken disappointment. Collecting himself from the initial shock, Yunho, always the practical one, voiced out, "Then you must have called us here for a good reason. What can we do for you, general?"

"Thank you, both of you. I summoned you not only to share the news but because I need your help. While I'm away, I want to ensure that my wife is well taken care of. Hongjoong, please continue overseeing her wardrobe and comforts. Also, work your magic and cheer her up for me when she's down. Yunho, unfortunately, I'm going to need you to stay here and ensure she receives the best medical attention. I understand this limits you from accepting other patients, but I promise we will compensate you for your dedication."

His friends readily agreed without hesitation. The dressmaker turned serious, "Don't worry, I'll visit more frequently to keep her company," The doctor nodded in agreement, "And I'll stay for as long as you need, my lord. Lady Park will receive the best care."

"I appreciate it, you two. I'll trust you to keep an eye on her while I'm away." Your husband said, feeling a bit relieved, knowing he could count on them to support you in his absence.

The next few days passed in a blur as you spent nearly every waking second with your husband. Daytimes were filled with endless conversations in his study, discussing anything and everything, while late evenings were cherished in your pavilion, holding each other close and sharing affectionate kisses.

Even if it wasn't a honeymoon, it felt like one.

The imminent war and Seonghwa's unavoidable departure were like an unspoken presence in the room, always lingering in your minds. However, neither of you dared to address it, choosing instead to talk about anything but the impending separation.

You started questioning whether it was the right choice not to express your love for him as well. What if he never returned? The thought of regret lingered, and you couldn't shake off the fear that he might not make it back alive. Despite his skills as a fighter, the harsh reality was that he was only human, and the uncertainties of the battlefield weighed heavily on your heart.

Spending another evening in your pavilion, you shifted slightly within his embrace and looked up at him. Your heart clenched at the sight of the worry etched on his face. Self-doubt crept in as you considered the selfishness of your actions. While he prepared to face the dangers of war, you would be waiting in the safety of your shared home. How could you deny him the reassurance of hearing your love in return after he had opened his heart to you?

Lifting your hand to gently cup his cheek, you prompted him to meet your gaze, "Seonghwa, there's something I need to tell you before you leave... I—"

Before you could finally utter those three words back to him, Jongho hurriedly approached, "Sir! Oh gosh, I apologise for the interruption!"

The general sighed and shook his head, straightening up as he turned to his assistant with a wry smile, "What is it?"

Bowing deeply, the younger man gulped before delivering the news, "Sir, the base at the war site has been set up. General Officer Song is already there and ready to begin strategising. You are expected to travel there at your soonest convenience."

Your heart sank at the realisation that the moment of departure had arrived. You felt your husband let out a shaky breath and tighten his hold around you as he inquired, "I understand. Are my belongings all packed and transportation prepared?"

With a grim expression, Jongho nodded, "Yes, sir. Everything is ready to go. All that's left is you."

"Guess it's time for me to go, my love."

The sound of your heart pounding in your ears drowned out any other noise as Seonghwa got suited up. You accompanied him, silently witnessing the transformation of the man you loved into the formidable general the nation needed. Every clink of his armour resonated with the weight of his duty, the heavy responsibility that he shouldered willingly.

The urgency was palpable. He was the linchpin of the military, and his immediate presence was required. It felt like a luxury that you had a few extra days to spend with him, but now, the inevitable farewell loomed, and the time had come for him to go.

Watching him clad in his armour, fear settled in the depths of your being. Your husband, the man you cherished, was about to embark on a perilous journey, risking his life to defend his country. The gravity of the situation sank in, and the ache in your heart intensified. You couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of dread, envisioning the horrors he might face on the battlefield.

Preparing for the farewell, you tried to muster the strength to bid him goodbye, but the lump in your throat made it difficult to find words. The separation weighed on you, and the air was thick with the unspoken anguish that enveloped both of you.

It was well past your usual bedtime when he was fully prepared to leave for the war zone. Standing at the entrance of the general's estate on a chilly night, you sent him off to work, a routine you had grown accustomed to. Only this time, the circumstances were vastly different. You had no idea when, or if, he would return. The concept of him leaving for war felt abstract until this very moment, seeing him before you in the dignified attire of a military commander.

You fought to hold back your tears as he drew closer, enveloping you in a cloak to shield you from the cold breeze, "It's cold out here, my love. You better head in soon to catch up on some rest. While I'm away, you must take care of yourself, alright? If you're bored, summon Hongjoong, and he'll keep you entertained. If you're feeling even the least bit unwell, Yunho will be around."

His heart clenched at the sight of your tears trickling down your cheeks, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Leaving you was proving to be much harder than he had anticipated. Unable to resist, he wrapped his arms around you one last time, holding you close as he breathed in your scent, "God, I love you so much."

Jongho and Eunsook watched with pain in their eyes as you shared your final embrace. With no choice, one of the waiting coachmen reluctantly cleared his throat, "General, I hate to break you up, but we really must go."

Feeling him start to pull away, you panicked and clutched his arms, speaking through sobs, "W-wait, before you go... I just... I really want to th-thank you for everything you've done for me since my arrival. Thank you for accepting me, for s-seeing the beauty in me, for protecting m-me. I will f-forever be grateful, and I... Seonghwa, I lo—"

Your words were silenced by the familiar sensation of his lips firmly pressing against yours. The kiss carried the saltiness of your tears and perhaps a bit of his as well. Pulling away just enough for his lips to lightly brush against yours, he whispered, "No, don't say it. I want to hear it when I come home to you."

Smiling through your tears, you nodded.

Pleased, he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead, murmuring a soft, "Good girl," before shifting his gaze to his assistant and head maid, signalling with a nod that it was now their responsibility to look after you. The two bowed deeply in acknowledgement.

With a heavy heart, he reluctantly stepped away, the anxious sounds of his soldiers' boots tapping against the ground filling the air, "I'm afraid I really must go. I'll see you again, my love."

Despite the ache in your chest, you managed to beam encouragingly at him, "Go, our country needs you. I'll be right here waiting for you." It took every ounce of strength for the general to turn away, fighting the urge to look back, knowing he wouldn't be able to resist running back to you.

As the carriage rolled away, disappearing from view, you did your best to hold back your tears until the very last moment. Once it was out of sight, you sank to the ground, the weight of reality crashing down on you. Jongho and Eunsook rushed to your side, supporting you as you struggled to stand. With their help, you made your way back into the estate, the silent sobs finally escaping as you clung to the memories of the last moments with your husband.

I love you too, Park Seonghwa.

« Preview of Part 14 »

"Come on, Lady Park, don't be too down. Your husband didn't earn the reputation of the most formidable general in all of Joseon for no reason, you know? I've witnessed him in action enough times to vouch for his skills. He'll be just fine."

A giggle escaped your lips at Hongjoong's attempt to lighten the mood. He guided you around town, aiming to distract you from your concerns about Seonghwa. Two maids followed behind, ready to assist you and the dressmaker with any purchases.

He led you to areas of the town you had not yet explored, stopping to shop for materials that would aid in his dressmaking. Your eyes widened in awe as you took in the various coloured fabrics neatly arranged in the shop you had just entered.

Curious, you asked, "What is this place?"

Hongjoong grinned, pleased to see your attention finally shifting away from thoughts of your husband, "This, my dearest, is a fabric factory. Feel free to look around, but don't wander too far. I'll be here placing my order, alright?"

With a nod, you ventured deeper into the expansive store, marvelling at the diverse array of fabrics on display. Unbeknownst to you, you had wandered to the back, where factory workers toiled under the harsh sunlight, dyeing the fabrics.

A few of them cast curious glances in your direction, and you stammered out an apology, "O-oh, my apologies for intruding!" Amidst the workers, a familiar face caught your eye, and you did a double take. You doubted your eyesight, and the person glared back at you with intense hatred.

Gasping, you recognised your stepsister, not missing the sight of her body littered with new scars, "J-Jinjoo? Is that you?"

Damn, I'll have to begin working on my thesis after releasing this part. The next one is most likely going to take slightly longer than usual, so I apologise in advance!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[aryana-thefairy]

Astrology observations Part-2 🦋

🦋Capricorn sun / Capricorn rising, Virgo sun / Virgo rising are the real fashionistas of astrology. They are classic, timeless, effortless elegance. They might like light and dark academia, of course, old money aesthetic. The earth signs always look put together.

🦋The gaze of the Scorpio moon is intense, hypnotic and haunting. My god they see through you, they are human lie detectors. Trust me, they know when you are lying, they are just playing along. They constantly test their friends to check their loyalty.

🦋The rebellious Lilith is subtle in earth and water signs and intense in fire and air signs. A Virgo Lilith in the first house may like to flaunt her sexuality but also struggles to keep her image pristine and clean in front of others.

🦋Lilith in 2H is obsessed with their money and has the finest luxurious taste. They might struggle with eating too much or too little. Self-image can be a little foggy. Lilith in 1H has a sexy body and Lilith in 2H has a sexy face.

🦋Pluto in 12H gets visions and constant deja vu. If someone with Pluto in 12h tells me that I should be careful and that she saw me in her dreams. I would listen to her.

🦋Men with Libra moon are proper gentleman. Their manners and etiquette is on point. The way they express themselves is mature and precise. They are real crowd pleaser. Very well groomed.

🦋I believe Leo moon is a great indicator of fame. Because their innate desire is admiration and recognition. I kid you not, so many celebrities who are worldwide famous have Leo Moon. They can also be great writers and poets because they have the ability to express their deepest darkest feelings and turn them into art that others love.

🦋0 degree placement in your natal chart is powerful, It means you are the master of your own destiny and you write your own story. 0 degree Jupiter means you can decide how to create your own fortune.

🦋Neptune in 11H is so adorable. People are magnetised by them. They are the type of friend who frequently disappears and reappears but are always there for you when you need them.

🦋Cancer Rising has the potential to become chef.

🦋Scorpio or Aries Mars is a great indication of raw sex appeal. I feel this is pretty self-explanatory. Scorpio mars has that magnetic mystery and Aries mars are pretty dominant and fearless.

🦋 18-degree placement in your Sun is of great controversy. The reason is that some astrologers would say this is a hard placement because this indicates hardships in early life, Karma. Others would say this indicates immense power to get what they want and strong willpower. I think both are true statements. They face hardships in the early part of their life and they truly shine in the later part of their life.

🦋Venus in 8H may attract doomed relationships. They also attract partners who cheat on them. They derive happiness from their love life. Lots of emotional turmoil. But I have also seen people with this aspect who are in a happy and healthy relationship. They had a past of shitty relationships. These natives are seductive and sensual and hardly single. Maybe being single for a while would help them to understand people. They too are interested in the occult. Highly creative.

🦋Venus square ascendant are so attractive but they don’t see themselves as attractive. It's like they are unaware of their beauty. May lack confidence but I believe confidence is something that can be built with practice. Squares aren’t all bad. It leads you to sexual appeal.

🦋Venus conjuncts both Mars and Mercury. We get it. You have it all. Beauty + Brains + Charisma. The only reason people don’t like them is because they are jealous duh. These natives are a bit cocky. After all, they are the whole package.

🦋Jupiter in 5H can find success and make a fortune as writers. Highly creative. Communication skills are amazing. Harness your talent.

Disclaimer: Take what resonates with you. Personal observations are biased.

[ozzgin]

I can order a yandere cute (kawaii), who maybe because of his cute and innocent appearance managed to get close to his beloved, but maybe this boy is not only cute and has a very disturbing past...

When you described a cute yandere with a messed up past, all I could think of was Kanato from Diabolik Lovers. This one's less of an asshole though. Hopefully. I also wasn't sure what you had in mind for 'disturbing past', I may have gone overboard.

Cute!Twisted! Yandere x Reader

Children will say the strangest things. Such as the marriage promise you’ve received from the little boy you befriended a long time ago, when you were rather young yourself. Yet sometimes the words aren’t entirely devoid of meaning. He definitely hasn’t forgotten his intentions, and your current fiancé is a mere delay to his plans.

TW: mentions of abuse, obsessive behavior, violence, small age gap, death

He still remembers the day you met, so clearly and vividly. His most cherished memory. 

It was particularly cold despite the sun and his feet were hurting. He didn't have the time to put any shoes on, he ran out the moment he'd heard the sound of glass breaking. 

Mother was so scary when she'd get upset. The bulging eyes, the screaming mouth, the wild hair scattered over her face, darkening her features.

What if she were to follow him outside? No, she was never mean in front of others. Then again, the street was empty...He bit apart the skin on his fingers in panic. 

"Isn't it a bit late for pajamas?"

His eyes darted up and met hers. A girl somewhat taller and older, holding a basketball under her arm and staring intently, visibly confused. He was, after all, shivering outside by himself, barefoot and in sleeping garments in bright daylight. He blushed in embarrassment. 

"I snuck out for some fresh air."

"Rebellious already, huh?" She smirked and walked over, dropping herself on the sidewalk next to him. "I'm (Y/N). Do you live in the area? We could hang out when you feel like it. No need to sit by yourself."

She pointed to a house unexpectedly close. Has she always been nearby? Then again, he was never allowed outside. Besides the spontaneous escapades in order to avoid the burning rage, he didn't see other people much. It had always been him and Mother. 

For his own good, really. At least that's what Mother used to say. When she wasn't angry, she'd cry and hold him tight, telling him how much she pities him between hiccups and candid sobs. A vile creature like him would surely be mocked by the rest of the world. Not his fault, the poor little angel. Alas, his miserable fate still had a glimpse of hope, because Mother would never abandon him. He would always find acceptance from her all-forgiving heart.

And yet, there was always the seed of suspicion in the depths of his mind. Her sweet, soothing words felt like a hot slap over the blooming wounds already adorning his body, shaping a paradox.

Then he met you. You didn't seem to be disturbed by his presence. The following days, whenever he approached you, you'd welcome him with the same warm smile. Just like you promised. He couldn't find the ridicule he'd so often been warned about.

The puzzle pieces didn't fit together, and it became painfully obvious once Mother confronted him about his secret outings. Somehow her wrath had faded. Her shouts were mere waves echoing from somewhere distant, only grazing by his ears. She must've noticed his indifference, too, because she began rummaging her pockets for the basement key. Perhaps an old fashioned discipline would have helped him regain his voice. But the dark, cramped walls of the basement no longer frightened him. During his time spent outside, he had discovered a fact of stunning novelty:

He didn't have to listen to her. Staring into her ferocious, bottomless pits, he only found the reflection of (Y/N)'s face. Her peaceful, loving expression, devoid of pain, or fury, or punishment. 

His little hands reached for the box cutter.

"It's you that has to go downstairs, Mother. You're a liar. I hate liars."

Was it the right choice? His small outburst had ultimately cost him your company. That evening he politely called emergency to let them know his Mother had gone mad. And so they dispatched a couple of officers to investigate the gruesome cadaver, sprawled along the stairs with too many gashes to count. They shyly investigated the basement, and a social worker carefully inspected the little boy's abundant markings. This couldn't have been a suicide, but the tearful, frightened eyes of the child kept them from pressing further. Whoever had stepped foot into their home that day most likely did him a favor. Nonetheless, he was now essentially orphaned, requiring an adult, and was swiftly shipped to the first available relative.

He didn't have the time to meet you one last time. A shameful departure given his final meeting: completely inebriated with ardent affection, he dared to present to you his innermost wish. One day he'd marry you, he was certain of it. You chuckled and extended your pinky finger reassuringly. A sealed deal. 

All he had was your name and your promise and God, how dearly he clung to them every night, every passing year. His true glimmer of hope.

You're scrolling through your emails, waiting for the bus to arrive, when a gentle tap on the shoulder startles you. Behind you is a young man, although the soft, feminine features give him more of an androgynous appearance.

"May I help you?"

"You're (Y/N), aren't you?" he bats his eyelashes expectantly. 

"I am, but how do you-" 

You gaze at the stranger intently. The big, innocent eyes, the childish demeanor, there's a certain familiarity to it. Who could it be? Suddenly you're overwhelmed by nostalgia. 

"It's you! How many years...? And you haven't changed one bit!" You laugh merrily at the sight of your shy, quiet friend, all grown up. 

"H-hey now, surely I look more mature this time." He tries to emulate a somber frown as a way to prove his adulthood. "Do you have time? I'd love to catch up."

He missed you so much. 

"Right now is a little difficult, but I'll tell you what. Why don't you come over to our place in the near future?"

Huh?

"This way I can introduce you to my fiancé!" You flash him your phone in order to exchange numbers, enthusiastic about the surprise reunion.

He vacantly stares at the lockscreen depicting an unknown man holding you close to him. When he searched for your name online, he didn't find anything regarding a relationship. He didn't expect this. He shouldn't have expected this. His fingers tighten around the small velvet box in his pocket. 

Did you forget your promise to him? Or was everything a lie? No, you wouldn't...you couldn't...He fucking hates liars. But you're not one of them, are you? You're not like Mother. No, no, no, no. Breathe. It's his fault. Of course, naturally. He vanished without a word and you must've thought he abandoned you. How careless of him. How terribly rude to blame you for his mistakes. It's okay, it's alright. He'll make it up to you. Sweet, darling (Y/N). 

"Are you okay?"

He looks up and notices your worried face. 

"Me? Yes, definitely. I was just a little surprised. Hehe. Who would've thought?" He grins and winks at you. "I have an even better idea! Why don't you two come to my apartment instead? I never got the chance to congratulate you for your engagement."

"Gosh, haha, don't worry about i-"

"Please. Pretty please?" He pouts dramatically, holding onto your coat, and you blush slightly at the adorable display. "It's my way of thanking you for the nice childhood memories."

"You really have your way to convince people, huh?" You ruffle his hair and he lowers his head, enjoying the touch. "I'll let my fiancé know."

"Such a cozy place you got yourself!" You beam at the lovely atmosphere of the room. Everything is bright and inviting. 

"Uh huh. The ladies must love you." Your fiancé follows up in agreement, snacking on the fancy appetizers. 

The young man places a tray on the table and hands you both a glass of sparkling wine. 

"Do you live alone? I refuse to believe you don't have a girlfriend." You joke and turn to your partner. "He was a real loner back then. Never saw him around other kids."

"Don't out me like that, (Y/N)!" He pinches your cheek humorously. "As a matter of fact, I do have a girlfriend."

Your fiancé raises his eyebrows, encouraging the boy to continue with details, while he gulps down the pleasantly aromatic drink. Must be expensive. 

"Then why didn't you bring her here? I want to meet her!" You whine. 

The man fiddles with his glass, observing the air bubbles that rush to the surface. 

"You already know her."

"Oh?"

Distracted by this knowledge, you stretch for your own glass and accidentally grab the one belonging to your fiancé. Before you can bring it to your lips, your head swings to the side and you can instantly feel your cheek throb, numb from the abrupt impact of someone's hand. 

"Don't fucking touch it!"

Your childhood friend is standing before you, equally shocked by his act. He stares at his reddening palm and his face twists in terror.

"I-I'm...Oh God...I'm so sorry, (Y/N). I just, I didn't know what else to do. You have to understand, please. I'd never-"

As you listen to his erratic apology, you hear the wheezing coughs of your fiancé. His breathing is irregular and he scratches his throat, unable to verbalize his struggle to you. A white foam begins to form in the corners of his mouth. You try to get up, but the man's fingers dig into your face, forcing you back on the chair. 

"Shhh shhh, it sounds uglier than it actually is. Trust me. Do you see now? I had to be a little rough, otherwise you would've gotten hurt. Hey! Look at me." He cups your cheeks with both of his hands, squatting in front of you. "Let him settle down. It won't be long."

Your vision becomes blurry.

"He needs an ambulance. Please. What did you do with the drinks?" You manage to blurt out.

"Won't make a difference."

He rests his gaze on your features for a few moments, admiring them dreamily. 

"It breaks my heart when you're sad like this. Didn't I say this is an engagement celebration?"

Without breaking eye contact, he pulls out his treasured box and opens it in your lap, revealing a ring.

"I know I disappeared without a word, but I truly had no choice. This is my way of begging for your forgiveness. Not a day went by without thinking of you, (Y/N). I, heh...I actually got this many years ago. Just carried it in my pocket in case I ever found you again." 

He giggles awkwardly, stroking your cheek protectively. 

"So don't cry. I've kept my promise after all, didn't I? Aren't you proud of me~?"

By the time his little speech ends, the room has filled with silence. Your fiancé is slouching on the chair, still and quiet. The young boy picks up your limp body, humming cheerfully. 

"You'll be the prettiest bride in the world.

Mine and mine only."

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hii could I request Alastor x fem(or gn if you don't write fem)reader who is part of vees?? Like imagine meeting where velvet and Carmilla got into fight so can you do that but with reader and maybe like after meeting how it looked?

Hehe! I write female and how ironic is that, whilst I love Hazbin Hotel, I haven’t gotten the chance to watch the show since I am motherless broke and waiting for all of it to go onto YouTube so I am gonna have to guess this shit! Once again… kinda short, sorry!

Alastor- Little Mistake

Alastor has always thoroughly disliked the Vs of the Overlords. Vox is obnoxious and egoistical, Valentino is sensual and annoying, Velvette is bratty and loud. But you… you’re not that bad. You’re the only V that doesn’t get under his skin and he does find you interesting so, throughout most Overlord meetings, he always sideyes you whilst you’re besides Velvette to see how you’ll respond to Carmilla

And respond to Carmilla you did. Making it a big song and dance that you don’t need to respect a fellow Overlord. Overlords barely respect one another so you don’t feel obligated in the slightest to respect her, which caused much friction throughout the other Overlords and deemed the meeting over

Alastor was amused by all of it. You’re much more calm, level-headed, less loud and sophisticated as compared to your fellow Vs and you’ve proven to Alastor that you do have quite the rebellious spirit and are determined to stick to your beliefs

He is impressed. He likes that

You just made a boring, insignificant meeting about ten thousand times better by beginning to argue with Carmilla over her statements and choices, and now, Alastor is hookline sinker for what is about to happen

Alastor may or may not rub you embarrassing yourself in front of your Vs and the Overlords in your face after everybody exits the meeting room and he tracks you down effortlessly, mainly thanks to his incredible shadow magic

Everybody else is so tense and avoiding you, cringing out of their skin at your lashout to their head… except the Vs, who are cheering your stand-up on whilst Alastor is already parting from the group to speak to you about what he wants to speak about

Those piercing crimson red eyes basically glare into your soul as he proclaims with a smirk. He expresses that he doesn’t hate you like he hates your fellow Vs

“I thought you were a good girl~ that wasn’t how good girls behave, my dear”

You don’t even want to hear it from him so you already attempt to regroup with the Vs(who are all proud of you, may I say) but Alastor has other plans and he doesn’t plan for this conversation to be cut so short so rudely, so he steals away you and your time. Is he in love with you? Well, he definitely likes you more than he’ll ever admit

“Oh. You’re so inconsiderate, darling. I was speaking to you and you just turned your back. That is not ladylike at all, don’t you want to give me, at least, a smile~?”

Needless to say, Alastor did indeed both find your butting heads with Carmilla Carmine very amusing, very interesting, very fun to poke fun at and especially… quite attractive— oh god. Did he actually think that? He did. He cannot believe how quickly a simple Overlord like yourself, a member of the Vs, have managed to make him smitten in any fashion

Alastor will make his amusement over your fight with Carmilla obvious, he presses you against the wall and speaks with the radio effects on full blast to make sure you pay attention and whilst he’ll shut out your fellow Vs, he’ll make you look at him and acknowledge him

Alastor teases you nonstop through the maybe 20-30 minutes he took talking to you about the incident in that big room. He openly expresses how much he enjoyed a good girl like you going bad but he hopes you stay obedient when you come to the Hotel. You don’t know what he is blabbering on about, though, Alastor knows you’re too good for the Vs and you’ll come to get redeemed any day now

And when that day comes, he will happy rub it more into your face. Maybe, give that face a bit of a kiss before sending you off

“Ah. Ah~ it’s not creepy, it’s acknowledgment. Creepy would be me following you around all the time. I was merely entranced by your behaviours and may I say, you’re better than those mindless idiotic Overlords you associate yourself with”

[theflowerofpandora]

My Mate

Neteyam X Female!Na’Vi Reader

Word Count: 7.95K

Summary: Neteyam is in love with you and makes sure that everyone else who was trying to claim you knows that you are now his bonded mate.

Warnings: Harassment (not from our boy Teyam tho), angst, SMUT!! (Minors please do not engage.), swearing, nasty, filthy and graphic (consensual) smut, jealous neteyam, wholesome neteyam, downright FILTHY neteytam, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, oral (f&m receiving), foreplay, slight manhandling, unprotected sex, cream pie, not sure if I’m missing anything else

Author’s Note: hello!! it’s finally here hehehe, pls lmk your thoughts - hope you all enjoy <3

“So,” Jake began as his eldest son and daughter sat across from him and Neytiri in their family’s tent. “Your mother and I have realised that you are both at an age where you may want to start considering others in the clan who might be suited as your life partners.”

Eyes widening, the siblings turned to each other in a panic. Were their parents really about to give them both this talk right now? The older Sully siblings were both in their early twenties and had already dealt with these types of conversations in their teens. They assumed that their parents weren’t going to pressure or bring it up to them after the first time a few years ago.

However, Jake and Neytiri were hyperaware of their daughter’s interest in the human boy, Spider, wanting to encourage her gaze away from him and towards a Na’Vi mate. Although, this was more Neytiri’s motive rather than Jake’s. Jake had been human too after all, but he knew it wouldn’t be possible unless Spider suddenly had his own Avatar.

Along with this, the mated couple were also aware of their son’s interest in you, Y/N, whom which Neytiri had noticed had begun to gain attention from other potential mates within the clan.

The mated couple admired you and your strong heart. Your hunting skills, attentiveness, kindness and the respect you held amongst the people. And your skills which abled you to provide and work within the clan’s community.

If Neteyam was as in love with Y/N as he appeared to be, he would need to make the bond and mate with her for life and soon. Neytiri and Jake wanted their son to be happy and become the best version of himself which you brought out in him. They wanted him to experience the love and passion that they had found with each other years ago.

A small smile graced Neytiri’s face and she swelled with pride as she spoke. “It has been few years now since you have both earned your place amongst the people… we would like for you both to choose your mates before this year’s end.”

With a roll of her eyes, Kiri let out a huff and stood up. “Yeah, I’m not ready for that.”

She reached over lightly slapping her hands on her older brother’s shoulders, “but he is - so I’ll be leaving now.” Grinning whilst turning to exit the Sully family’s hut, Kiri was caught in her stride as her mother squinted her eyes at her daughter.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Her distaste for the human boy, which she knew was on her daughter’s mind, only grew. She glared at her daughter and Kiri coward slightly at the fury behind her eyes before slipping out of the entrance to the hut.

Neteyam gaped at his sister leaving him to fend for himself but honestly, expected nothing less. Kiri had always been the one out of the pair to have the more rebellious attitude whereas Neteyam still and always would try to remain the well behaved and respectful eldest child.

“Neteyam ma‘itan (my son),” the corners of Neytiri’s lips turned up before turning to her mate. “We know that you have a very brave, strong hearted, skilled and beautiful woman in your life who will become a perfect mate to you if you wish it.”

He instantly thought of you. Was it that obvious? He supposes that he did bring you up in conversation often when you weren’t around because thoughts of you consistently flooded his mind and if he wasn’t with his family or on duties within Omatikaya, he would be with you and his whereabouts would be no mystery to anyone wondering where he was.

Jake nodded, smiling as he looked at his son. “We approve of her. She would make a fine Tsahìk after your mother when your time comes to take my place and become the next Olo’eyktan.”

With his eyes softening; face breaking out into a smile, his heart felt full and thrilled at his parents blessing. “Thank you, sir.” He bowed his head towards his parents, lifting his fingers up to his forehead before moving them back down and looking back up to them. “Thank you, sa’nu (mum).”

There was nobody else he wanted more than you.

---

You were minding your own business, weaving fabrics between your loom in attempt to craft Tuktirey a new chest covering as she constantly complimented your own which were woven with the most beautiful purple beads on them and had asked you to make one for her too. You were sitting with your back against the large bark trunk of kelutral (hometree) when an obnoxious hoot entered your ears and caused them twitch in exasperation.

You were only trying to keep yourself occupied whilst you were waiting for Neteyam to return from a meeting with his parents.

Footsteps soon followed the noises and ne of the young Omatikaya warriors was stalking his way over to you, like a predator following its prey, with a smirk on his face and a couple other young hunters in the clan following close behind.

“Hello, Y/N” one of them purred.

Nodding your head in acknowledgement, you maintained your focus on the fabrics in your hands. “Ka’ani.”

“Are you occupied this evening? Because I was thinking we could maybe take a trip to Vitrautral (Tree of Souls).” Ka’ani began as he crouched down next to your now irritated form, “consummate the beginning of our new life together?”

Your forehead creased as you looked at him, lips parting to speak until you were cut off by another warrior.

Takuk ran a hand through his braids before elbowing Ka’ani out of the way. “If you’re not interested in this skxawng then I’d be more than happy to show you what a real mate can be like. I can offer you so much more and provide for you in ways that nobody else could.”

A scoff escaped your lips. Didn’t they know that you were so clearly and obviously interested in another? Surely, the entire clan has picked up on your and Neteyam’s more-than-platonic friendship by now.

“Don’t be like that sevin ‘eve (pretty girl),” Ka’ani eyes lit up as you stood up, unintentionally showing off your figure to the small group as annoyance continued to bubble within you making your tail whip through the air in agitation. “We just want you to know that if you’re not mated soon, then one of us will claim you for ourselves.”

You sighed, irritation prominent in your voice. “I’m not interested in any of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You attempted to leave but one of the young warriors’ hands harshly grabbed your wrist causing you to yelp in surprise.

Unbeknownst to you, the only man you were in fact interested in was watching this scene unfold with anger running through his veins. After his conversation with his parents just now, he wanted to seek you out and confess his feelings and desires to you knowing that they weren’t unrequited. There had always been an unspoken connection between you both which had only flourished and bloomed into something romantic over the years since you had first met in your childhood years.

You both knew that you wanted each other, much like the entire Omatikaya Clan knew too. Therefore, it was just a matter of time before you and Netayam made the decision to mate and bond for life.

At the feeling of the harsh grip around your wrist, you hissed baring your fangs and tried to back away. “Let go.”

“Come on tute asevin (pretty woman), do not be like that. Just choose one of us to make you feel good and treat you well.”

“I’m not interested,” you seethed. “You would only treat me a small mere fraction as good as another will!”

Neteyam had always treated you with such kindness and consideration and affection… but now you couldn’t help but actually begin to think why you and Neteyam haven’t officially mated yet. Many of your peers in the clan had began mating a couple years ago and there was only around under half your age group left unmated now. Ka’ani, Takuk and their friends being some of the latter.

Takuk snarled with a crooked smile, bringing his face close to yours, his eyes filled with greed and hunger. “Oh really? Then why are you still left unmated?”

“I could ask the same for you!” You retorted, anger flaring up.

He only snarled, ignoring your comment. “You really think the son of Toruk Makto, the future Olo’eyktan, would want to be mated with you? He knows you’re not woth it. You’re just a filthy-”

A flash of hurt crossed your features and before Takuk could continue, a deep familiar voice broke in. “Did you not here what she said? She’s not interested in you fucking skxawngs, so leave her alone!”

Relief flooded your system as Neteyam towered over the group with his jaw clenched and fists curled up. Pure rage was evident on his expression until he looked at you and his features softened to show concern as his large green eyes flickered between your face and wrist which was now free. You gently rubbed your blue skin, a slight burn lingering where the grasp of the Na’Vi warriors’ hand was.

“Whatever… have her.” The group sneered and backed away mumbling amongst themselves, leaving you and Neteyam alone as they cleared off into the distance.

A sigh escaped Neteyam’s lips as he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms around you. Leaning into his large frame and warmth with your cheek pressed against his chest and hands on his back, you choked back a sob. “Thank you ‘Teyam.”

“I’m sorry that happened, my love. Are you okay?”

You sniffled before voicing the one thing that Takuk had said which was now stuck to the front of your mind. “No…” Why hadn’t Neteyam mated with you yet? Looking up at him with sad glossy eyes, you frowned. “Why haven’t we?”

“Why haven’t we, what?” Confusion and disquietude were laced in Neteyam’s voice and shone through his facial expression.

“Why haven’t we mated yet?” You pulled away from him, the lack of warmth and comfort causing you to shiver. Neteyam’s own body ached at the loss of contact. Your eyes reflected a sense of pain which made Neteyam’s heart ache.

“What? Y/N, I-” he began but struggled to find the right words to finish. And the silence was loud. Almost deafening to you.

Stepping back, you gave him a look of defeat. “It’s okay, I understand. I have to go.” You avoided his gaze before turning your back to him and ran off far into the forest, ignoring his calls of desperation in the distance.

---

A constant ache remained in your chest for the rest of the day and a swirl of overthinking clouded your head regarding Neteyam. You loved him so much and thought that he loved you too. But maybe he had someone else on his mind who he wanted to mate with and that’s why you had both never really discussed mating with each other before.

You thought back to all the times his large hands gently held yours during your many late-night walks through the flora and fauna of the forest whilst you both spoke to and confided in each other about the troubles you both felt overwhelmed it. You thought about all the laughs you shared together alongside his siblings and your friends. You thought about the time you had gifted each other matching beaded accessories as a reminder that when you couldn’t physically be together and see each other for a while, that you both always carry a piece of each other with you. You thought about the many times you’d find yourselves gazing into each other’s eyes lovingly, lips almost grazing and near connected.

And you thought about the sweet whispers of affection you both shared as you both laid in each other’s arms, staring up at the stars in your favourite glade. A space that remained secret and scared to the two of you.

Was that not enough of a sign that you both wanted to be mates? Your head hurt from the confusion.

“Enough,” you whined out loud inside the space of your own hut. You couldn’t stay in here all day dwelling and you’d have to see Neteyam again eventually. You should probably talk to him, but you weren’t sure if you were going to like what he had to say.

Stepping out, you walked along the pathway leading to the Clan’s hometree. Still stuck with the thoughts in your head, you failed to notice the middle Sully children approaching you with looks of scepticism.

“Hey Y/N!” Lo’ak grabbed your attention, “you seen our big bro recently?”

Your head snapped up and you bit your lip, fangs nibbling on the skin of them. “Oh. Yes, not since this morning though.”

The pair looked at you with worried expressions. They were obviously of something, and anxiety swarmed your chest. What had Neteyam told them?

Kiri hummed as she placed a gentle hand on your arm, “what happened? Neteyam has been all broody for the past couple hours.”

Pursing your lips you responded, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on, Y/N.” Kiri groaned, eyes gliding to the back of her head at your attempt to deflect.

Lo’ak laughed, “we all know you impact that mighty warrior’s moods more than anything else. Don’t act oblivious.”

“He’s your brother. If you’re so worried talk to him, not me.”

Kiri smirked, “we already have. And you’re both complete sxkawngs.”

Your eyes widened. What did Neteyam tell them? A smile made it’s way to your lips but didn’t reach your eyes. “Guys I don’t really think I want to talk about this right now.”

Lo’ak only grinned as he bumped his shoulder into yours teasingly. “You’re right, it’s none of our business. But you’re gonna be our sis soon so it will become our business.”

---

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, eclipse was approaching, and soon your whole clan was gathered under kelutral. You sat beside your friends, picking at your food and contemplating your conversation with Kiri and Lo’ak earlier as everyone around you chatted heartily.

What did they mean you’ll be their sister soon? Were they referring to your close relationship with Neteyam? Because now you were having doubts about it.

The ache in your chest festered as your hand made it’s way to fiddle with the beads around your wrist. The beads that matched Neteyam’s.

Your friends looked at you worried, asking if you were okay but you simply brushed them off and stated that everything was fine before excusing yourself.

With your feet carrying you away into the trees, you inhaled the air and felt your surroundings shift. Only the sounds and feelings of the plants within the bioluminescent forest engulfed you and you relaxe, feeling at ease knowing that Eywa was with you.

Unbeknownst to you, Neteyam had seen you leave in the middle of dinner and decided to follow you seeing it as an opportunity to say what he had been desperate to all day. The thought of you avoiding him and being in pain, hurt him. He couldn’t bear to continue with his life knowing that you were hurting because of him.

As he was on his way to follow your steps, he passed by the group of young warriors who were harassing you earlier today and he slowed his movements whilst he heard them speak. They were planning to go to the meadow near Vitrautral after the meal ended. Something within Neteyam’s head sparked within an instant and he suddenly felt a desire. A desire in which he urgently wanted to act on.

The thought of making things right with you, telling you how he really felt and all whilst making it known to any other man within the clan that you were claimed by him was consuming.

Neteyam stealthily picked up his pace and followed you until you ended up at the Tree of Souls. Great Mother… this was absolutely perfect.

At the sound of footsteps behind you, you pivoted on your bare feet only to be face-to-face with Neteyam. His large figure leaned over yours whilst stared at you intently and thousands of thoughts rushed through your head.

“What are you doing here Neteyam?” He frowned slightly at the use of his full name. Usually you’d call him anything else but that.

“I need to talk to you.” He reached out for your hands and engulfed them in his own causing your heart to flutter. “You’re upset with me.”

“I am.” You nodded in confirmation, eyes flickering over him everywhere except his face. A clear sign of nerves.

He exhaled tiredly, green eyes staring into yours. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, my love. You left so quickly this morning without letting me finish speaking.”

“Mhmm, it didn’t seem like you had much else to say.” You pouted slightly, “they weren’t wrong tho ‘Teyam.”

“Don’t tell me you believed anything those knuckleheads said to you.” He squeezed your hands.

“They had a point,” you glowered. “Why would the next Olo’eyktan want to be with someone like me? I’m not a powerful hunteress or warrior and I’m not the next Tsahìk in training. You need someone by your side who-”

Suddenly, he nestled his head into your neck laughing whilst pulling you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist in the process. “Y/N, I’m gonna stop you right there. You are the someone I need by my side.”

Your heart burst at his confession before you shook your head in denial. “But-”

“There is not but.” He removed his face from the crook of your neck and gazed at you lovingly as you then placed your hands on his broad shoulders. “You underestimate yourself. You are so strong and skilled. Elegant and kind. Intelligent and headstrong. Thoughtful and extremely beautiful. You’re the light on my dark days and comfort me like nothing else can. You ground me and make me feel more alive than I’ve ever been. The forest would not be my home without you in it. You are my best friend and so much more. I want you to continue being more. I want us to continue as mates and I want you to be mine for the rest of our lives. And I am so sorry that I lacked the courage to tell you this sooner… I did not want to pressure you or bring my own burdens of being the Olo’eyktan’s son on to you.”

Tears pricked your eyes at his words, illuminating under the light pink and purple glow of the tree of souls, euphoria was swarming your body as you smiled at him. Neteyam beamed, his gaze briefly moving from your eyes to your lips as he trailed his hands along the skin of your waist.

“I want everyone to know that you are mine and only mine. And I hope that you will want me to be yours too.” By the sincerity across his features, you knew that he was being honest, pouring out his feelings to you and all of your doubts faded away.

“Oh ‘Teyam, my handsome warrior. You have no idea how much I desperately want that. I am sorry I that I did not tell you sooner too. You mean more to me than the Great Mother herself.” Yours hands slowly moved from his shoulders, delicately grazing his collarbones and moving down to his muscular chest feeling his heartbeat under your touch. “Oel ngati kameie (I see you).”

“And oel ngati kameie.” He repeated before closing the gap between you both, softly pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and your arms moved up to grip his neck.

Everything felt right. So right. Here together. Confirming your love for one another. You deepened the kiss, both of you moving in sync and full of passion as if you were lovers that had been deprived of each other’s familiar touch for years.

His hands trailed down to rub your hips and his fingertips ghosted over the waistband of your loincloth. Your tails finding their way beside you both intertwining as you both shivered lightly at the close, intimate feeling.

Pulling away for air, you smiled at each other. “I can not believe that the most gorgeous Na’Vi on Pandora is mine.”

A giggle escaped your lips and your leaned in to peck his check and whispered into his ear, “And I can’t believe that the most perfect Na’Vi on Pandora is mine.”

Suddenly, Neteyam took you by surprise and scooped you up into his arms. A small squeal left your mouth as he carried you further under the Tree of Souls, brushing between the glowing vines.

He smirked, tongue swiping over his fangs before he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips and gently placed you onto the ground, hovering over your smaller frame.

You wrapped your legs around his slim waist, wanting him closer. He began kissing your neck feverishly causing you to gasp. His breath was hot on your neck and you began to feel arousal start to stir inside you just as much as it was within him.

Seeing you under him, lips slightly parted with soft moans escaping them as he pressed feathery kisses from your neck to your chest made his head spin.

“I want more of you Neteyam,” you whined.

He chuckled lightly, lifting a hand up to your chest as he connected your mouths again in fiery bliss with your tongues moving together delicately. You both basked in the feeling of the softness of the other’s lips.

Neteyam’s hand slowly lifted your chest covering to reveal your tits in all their glory and a purr left his throat. “So pretty.” He pulled the covering off in one swift motion.

A mewl left your mouth as his hand began to massage your breast and you relished in the sensation as his fingers lightly pinched your hardned nipples. By now you could feel the bulge between his legs and your hips wiggled impatiently, craving the contact.

A small whine left your throat as your head fell back, tits bouncing lightly at the action. Neteyam’s touch felt hot on your skin. His mouth made contact with your tits, tongue swirling around one bud and you gasped, hands grabbing his back as his other hand played with the other.

You inhaled sharply at the sweet, wet, sloppy kisses.

He hummed, “you sound so pretty for me.”

“Only for you.”

He growled roughly as you quickly made a decision and pushed him off and onto his back, allowing you to crawl over to him on your knees and place your hands on his thighs.

With Neteyam’s eyes still on you, you leaned down and began pressing kisses along his abs. “Fuck,” he breathed out as you neared his crotch. The fabric of his loincloth constricting him. Your hands reached for his waistband before pulling the fabric off him to reveal his long, hard length and you swallowed at the sight – not expecting it to be this big. His thick, veiny cock sprung upwards with the tip leaking precum and your mouth parted in shock

“Too much?” He chuckled at your expression.

“Maybe,” you giggled lightly as you spat on your hand and it found it’s way to the base of his cock. He moaned at the warmth of your hand around his hard length.

You smirked at the sound before gently pressing a kiss to the tip, earning a sharp intake of breath from the man beneath you as you licked the saltiness of his precum off your lips.

Parting your lips, you leaned back over this length and welcomed the head of his length into your soft, wet mouth. Neteyam shuddered at the feeling and wrapped his hands between your braids. He continued to guide his length into the warmth of your mouth and you opened wider, loosening your jaw.

Soon you began sucking along his length, swirling your tongue around him as he grunted in pleasure.

You started to feel a wetness between your legs and unconsciously rubbed your thighs together, trying to create friction.

With your hand lightly moving along his length, covering the part that your mouth couldn’t, he moaned happily and you increased your pace. Obscene noises were filling the air around you.

A moan left your throat and your mouth vibrated around him, causing him to tug at your hair as his tip hit the back of your throat, legs shakily slightly at the sensation. Breathing through your noise, you continued to suck along his length, letting the tip of his cock slide down your throat every time.

“Oh Great Mother!” He breathed out, tightening his grip around your hair which was bunched into his hands making you whine as he continued, “you are so fucking good for me.”

Humming in response to the praise, you then picked up your pace, encouraging Neteyamt to buck his hips into you with his cockhead repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. He loved how gorgeous you looked with his dick stuffed into your mouth, taking him so well.

Tears began to set on your eye waterline as he kept slamming his thick cock into your mouth, you felt his shaft twitch and you began swirling your tongue around him again knowing he was nearing his end. You wanted to feel his length pulsate before his bittersweet cum filled your mouth for you to swallow down.

Suddenly, Neteyam pulled you off him and you cried out at the loss after enjoying pleasing him so much. He chuckled, releasing your hair and sitting up next to you, pressing a kiss to your swollen and spit covered lips. “No, baby. I want to finish with you.”

“Oh.” Your face heated up as his hands grabbed your waist, pushing you down onto your back again.

“My sweet girl.”

He was quick to thrust his knee up to your clothed core making your squirm and whine in relief at the contact. He pressed his warm, soft lips against yours hungrily and you gladly allowed his tongue entry into your own mouth, letting your lips move in a needy rhythm. Your body was sparking, hands pulling him closer to you as Neteyam deepened the kiss.

Gasping at the unexpected contact of Neteyam’s hands massaging your tits again, his tongue dived deeper into your mouth, working against your own as you began shuddering from the light pinches on your hardened nipples.  

He slowly pulled away and his gaze darkened as he looked down at your needy, trembling body. “Looks like I need to take care of my baby, huh?”

Nodding, you slowly grinded yourself against his knee trying to give your throbbing clit the attention it needed. “Please ‘Teyam.”

You needed him. You wanted to feel all of him. You wanted to feel him and only him. You wanted to become one with him.

Neteyam let out a low hum of amusement. The fabric of your loincloth was coated in your arousal, dampening the fabric. “Look how messy you are, my love. You really can’t wait, can you?”

Heat flushed your cheeks and you shook your head, hands leaving him ans moving up to cover your face. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit bashful. “Just want you, ‘Teyam.”

His large hands quickly gripped your wrists, forcing you to show your face again as he bit his lip and stared at you with desire. “Don’t worry, I can’t wait either.”

Releasing your wrists, he began peppering kisses all over your body and your hands rested onto his muscular shoulders. His hands found their way to the sides of your hips as his legs remained between yours. All you wanted to do was buck your hips back into him knowing exactly what would press against your throbbing heat.

Neteyam only let out a small chuckle as he could tell just how riled up you were getting and it made him ravenous. His large hands swayed down to caress your fleshy thighs before he knelt back, swiftly hooking them over his shoulders and you began to squirm as he slowly loosened the thick string holding your loincloth around your hips.

You inhaled sharply at the exposure, feeling his cool breath on your sopping cunt.

“You smell divine, my love.” He looked like a starved man as he gazed up from your glistening heat to your heavy-lided eyes, heaving chest and parted lips. He pressed a few chase kisses on your inner thighs and you swallowed in anticipation.

You were burning for his touch.

A moan erupted within you as he dipped his head down, hot tongue licking up the slick along your folds. Encouraged by your body jolting at the contact of his mouth on your wet pussy, Neteyam slid his tongue into your entrance. Your mewls for him were so sweet and delicate as he began eating you out and he quickly realised that he never wanted to stop as long as you were you were moaning out for him like you currently were whilst tasting so sweet.

Your hands found their way to his hair and began to interlock, clutching his thick braids.

“Oh, ‘Teyam!” You gasped in a mixture of shock and pleasure as his plump lips found your swollen, pulsing clit and you arched your back – desperate for more.

He was sucking at you and flicking his tongue over your bud, his grip so tight around your thighs that you were sure there would be light bruises tomorrow. It only intensified the pleasure building up in your core until he suddenly slipped a long slender finger into your heat and began to slowly push it in and out of you.

“So wet and warm for me baby,” his voice vibrated against you – effectively sending you into a euphoric state as he added another finger into your entrance. His dick was throbbing with the need for you.

All that could be heard around the Tree of Souls was your mewling and the squelching of the love of your life pumping his fingers into you and sucking your clit, causing your walls clenched around him.

Once Neteyam added a third finger, he began to slightly curl them upwards – reaching for your most sensitive spot. And it didn’t take long to find. His digits easily slipped in and out of your velvety heat, reaching for that spongey spot inside of you.

“T-Teyam I-I’m-,” you began to whine, legs writhering in pleasure. Between the attention his mouth was paying to your sensitive bud and his fingers buried deep inside of you, reaching the right spot every time, you knew you were nearing your end. The sensations he gave you were otherworldly, and you knew you couldn’t hang on much longer.

“Come for me, my beautiful mate.”

He quickened his pace, flicking your clit with his wet tongue in an animalistic state. You could feel everything intensifying and you cried out as his fingers hit your g-spot one last time and finally pushed you over the edge.

Your cunt was clenching around his fingers and your felt him smirk against you.

Stars filled your vision and your walls convulsed around him, your moaning and panting filled the air as your orgasm washed over you like a wave. He began harshly lapping up all your juices as you reached the peak of pleasure that he was giving you.

Your whole body was tingling as he carefully removed his fingers, leaving you empty and pressed one softer and loving kiss to your sensitive bud before he leaned back. Lifting your shaking legs off his shoulders, he gently reached for you and pulled you into his warm embrace and your arms loosely wrapped around him – tired from the immense pleasure.

With your head resting over his shoulder, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head and murmered. “You did so well for me, baby.”

A smile graced your lips and your eyes fluttered shut as you kissed the nape of his neck. “You’re wonderful Ma Neteyam.”

His hand made it’s way to your neck and lifted your head, pressing his swollen lips to yours and he held you closer. You could taste yourself on him.

He couldn’t deny how painfully hard he was right now, the whole time he was drinking you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he wanted to be buried deep inside of your sopping heat.

“Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life mated to me?”

You laughed lightly, inhaling his comforting scent before pressing soft kisses along his jaw. “Don’t be a skxawng. Of course, I do. There’s nothing else I want more in all of Pandora.”

Neteyam stilled beside you in disbelief. “Really?”

“I want it so bad,” you moaned against his lips. “I want to make Tsaheylu with you and spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have a family and grow old with you, wherever it takes us… I’m there.” You could feel his long, hard length pressing against you. “I want your cock inside of me.”

He chuckled - heart rushing at your words and reached for your long, thick braid that protected your queue.

“I am so incredibly and undoubtedly in love with you, Ma ‘Teyam.”

“I feel the exact same for you, my love.” He reached for his own queue and lifted it to yours. The tendrils were poking out and desperately reaching to touch.

When your queue’s finally made contact and intertwined, everything changed. You both gasped out, panting at the deep-rooted connection and you gazed into each other’s orbs through your lashes with dilated pupils. Connecting in a way that you had never before.

Your hearts beat together as one. Your breathed together as one. You felt together as one. Passion, desire, longing, love, acceptance and understanding swirled between you both. Everything was heightened and intensified between you both now.

And with that, your mouths hungrily crashed together – swapping saliva and the lingering taste of your juices. Your legs moved to straddle him in an upright position.

Neteyam’s large hands roamed your body, caressing your curves and cupping the flesh of your ass until he was lying on his back with you hoisted over him, straddling his hips. Groaning into your lips, he bucked his hips up to your wet heat making you moan. His hard, thick length begging for your touch.

“Ride me, baby?” he rasped, staring at your perfect body through his dark and determined eyes. His fingers tickled your torso as they moved up your body before cupping your tits in his hands.

“Fuck, yes please.” You breathed out, grinding your wet and sensitive folds over his bare shaft.

The sensation alone caused you both to whine at having no barrier separate you both. You repeated your actions, sliding along his length – coating his member in your slick and you couldn’t get over just how thick his girth was before the bulbous tip of his cock brushed against your clit causing you to gasp in pleasure.

Netaym was about to lose his mind. His hands rested on your hips, halting your movements. “Y/N, as much as I love this. I think I will die if I’m not inside you soon.”

You giggled slightly, reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his dick. “Can’t have that now, can we my mate?” And with that, your grasp around his length tightened slightly before your guiding the tip towards your entrance before you began to sink down.

He entered you in one swift motion and cry escaped your lips at how easily he slid into you and how much fucking better it felt to have him inside you. It was overwhelming to be so close and consumed in one another.

He was stretching your walls apart in a way he had never done so before. Your soaking warm cunt was clenching around Neteyam’s member and he swears that has never felt so truly at loss for words before. Usually, he would never surrender to anything, trying to remain a strong Olo’eyktan-in-training, but right now he felt completely at your mercy. Your bare velvety walls around him had his balls throbbing and his he couldn’t stop thinking about his cum painting your walls white within the next second.

As soon as you lifted up slightly, feeling his thick cock glide against your slippery heat, Neteyam groaned and bit his lip whilst his hands gripped your thighs.

“You feel so fucking good.” You breathed out, resting your hand on his torso for balance

A moan erupted in his throat, “you’re incredible.”

You slowly slid back down onto his cock, adjusting to his size and moaning at the feeling of him filling you up so full and completely as your tail swayed behind you.

Before you could move again, voices echoed in the distance of the forest and your froze but Neteyam only smirked and gripped your waist tightly.

Your eyes were wide as you looked down at your mate from your intimate position. You swallowed nervously. “I think there’s people coming here.”

“So let them,” he looked at you with lustful and determined eyes. Your core clenched around him and he groaned, “let them know that you belong to me.”

And suddenly, you were on your back with wide eyes, gasping at the new angle where Neteyam’s massive cock was still sheathed inside of your tight hole. His words had your walls subconsciously fluttering around him as he pulled back until his tip teased your entrance.

“Neteyam!” You gasped out at his action and the different persona he now portrayed. Your hands gripped onto his biceps as he slammed his hips up into yours – cock hitting deep within you and balls slapping against your ass. Your delicate, oversensitive walls were barely managing but it felt so fucking good and you craved this new sensation more.

“Feel amazing, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

Your legs were hooked over his hips and his lips pressed against yours before he began thrusting into your soaking pussy. His pace was slow and deep; you could feel ever single inch of him as he impaled his thick, long cock into you.

The lewd noise of your skin slapping against each other filled the surrounding area along with your desperate mewls and moans. Each time Neteyam’s hips smoothly met yours, he was reaching so deeply into you. Neither of you could overcome the bare sensation of feeling each other.

“Someone will h-hear us ‘T-Teyam!” You panted, concerned about other Na’Vi seeing or hearing you both.

“I want them to,” he grunted darkly. The voices were still heard in the distance, “let them hear that you’re my mate.”

A loud cackle filled your ears. “Come Ka’ani! Over here.” It was the group of warriors that had harassed your earlier today before Neteyam intervened.

“Let them know how good I make you feel. That you’re mine and I’m yours. That they’ll never have you.” Neteyam moaned out at your tightening around him, his deep, rich voice making your heart swell and your legs tighten around his hips – pulling him even closer to you if that was even possible. It caused his pelvic bone to rub against your clit each time with his deep thrusts whilst your tits bounced along.

“Oh, Netayam!” You gasped out at a particularly rough thrust and your head fell back into the grass underneath you and your back arched in delight at the feeling of his large cock sliding back and forth along your wet, velvety core.

“Fuck. Can’t wait to cum so deep in you…” He grunted before abruptly pulling out of you, causing you to whine at the loss. Your hands fell to your sides as he leaned away to hook his arms under your legs and pushed your knees against your chest.

What the fuck is he doing?

“N-Netyam,” you tried to put your legs back down but he was holding them in place and his strength ignited a deeper arousal within you.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders whilst his hard member rubbed against your throbbing folds. You mewled loudly at the contact, staring at the grin on your mate’s face. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew this position was going to be too deep for you. And you knew that you would cry and moan out even louder than he had already made you.

“T-Teyam,” you bite your lip, whining. You were still so sensitive. “You’re too big.”

He failed miserably at hiding the smile on his face. “I know baby, just think of how deep I’ll be able to cum in your cunt and how those fucking skawngs will have no choice but to hear me make love to you and claim you as mine. They won’t ever dare to approach you again.”

The thought made you roll your hips against his length. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted it.

He leaned down, connecting your lips vehemently.

“You feel this, my love?” He began with a smirk, large hand covering the lower part of your stomach, just below your belly button.

You nodded with a shaky breath. “Y-yeah.”

“This is where you’re gonna feel me cum, baby.”

“T-Teyam ugnhhh.” You cried out in euphoria as Neteyam slipped his cock back into your entrance and thrusted up into you hard. You jolted back from impact and your hands reached out holding onto his strong arms for support. He thrusted into you a few times grunting until he was buried into your heat to the hilt, balls deep whilst the tip of his cock was kissing your cervix causing you to gasp.

“Oh, fuck! Great Mother!”

Netayam only took your hand in his, placing it over between your hips where his own hand once was. He pushed his hips further into yours and you swear you could feel him in your throat. “You feel that, my love? You feel how well your pretty pussy takes my big cock?” hepanted, pressing the palm of your hand down making your gasp lightly once you felt the head of his cock inside of you – bulging out.

“Neteyam!” You moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“Good girl. That’s it. Scream my name so the whole forest can hear that you belong to me now.” He placed his hands on either side of you, allowing you to hold onto his arms again whilst your legs remained over his shoulders and his hip began to snap into you. He slid into you so easily.

“So perfect for me,” he grunted, speeding up his pace causing you to whine uncontrollably at the overwhelming feeling of his dick so deep inside you, all from the new position he was reaching spots that you didn’t even know existed.

Neteyam’s balls smacked against your ass whilst sounds of your wetness echoed. You began to raise your hips slightly to meet his thrusts and waves of euphoria began to fill your senses.

Your silky heat clenched around him and a deep grunt escaped Neteyam’s throat as he quickened his pace. “You gonna cum again, Ma Y/N? You want me to stuff you full of my seed when you cream around my cock?”

“Y-yes p-please ungh.” You struggled to get words out between his deeps thrusts and you could feel him shudder slightly, signalling that he was close.

“Look at me, my love. Wanna see you cum around me.” Neteyam’s hips ruthlessly slammed into you, relentlessly hitting the perfect spot inside you every time. “Fuck, baby you feel so good. You’re so amazing. So good for me.”

His skin was hot against yours as you pulled him in for a brief kiss. Pulling, back you blearily gazed into his eyes. “Cum inside me ‘Teyam.”

Moans, cries and grunts of pure bliss surrounded Vitrautral with the scent of sex as Neteyam continued to deeply impale you with his cock. He revelled in the way your soaked cunt clenched around him with every thrust and he knew that you’d be falling apart for him soon.

The intensity of truly feeling each other was becoming overwhelming and your lungs were gasping for air. Every stroke of his bare cock inside your tightening walls suddenly had you on the edge.

“Go on my love. Cum for me. Let your pussy cream all over me, baby.”Neteyam’s low voice remained deep and was filled with love whilst throaty moans of his own filled the air. He quickened his pace and it felt like he was going impossibly deeper into your squelching pussy as you began to quiver around him.

“T-Teyam I’m g-gonna-”

“Good girl, let go for me.” He encouraged you, thrusting harder into your heat whilst your walls gripped him like a vice, sucking him in.

His words finally sent you over the edge and you moaned out in ecstasy, uncontrollably convulsing around him as he began chasing his own high. Your body was shaking in pleasure as Neteyam let your legs fall back down around his hips and your hands found their way, intertwining with his dark locks whilst your mouth was agape. He continued to pound into you through your own orgasm and you soon felt him pulsate inside of you around your quivering pussy.

“Cum, Ma ‘Teyam. Fill me up. Make me yours.”

And so, he pressed his lips to yours once more with his fangs grazing your plump lips, pumping into you a few more times before burying himself deep within you – with the most beautiful rich moan vibrating against your mouth, for the first time he emptied himself within your walls. His hot white seed endlessly spurted against your womb.

A high-pitched exhale left your throat, mixing in with your pants and Neteyam’s soft groans of pleasure as he finished emptying himself inside of you.

He slowly pulled his softening member out and you let out a quiet moan as you felt his cum trickle out of your battered cunt. Collapsing beside you, queue’s still connected, he wrapped his arms around you as you leaned against him with your body aching in pleasure.

As you both tried to catch your breath, he nestled his head into yours and soothingly rubbed his hands over your body. The glow from the Tree of Souls vines illuminating each other alongside the bioluminescent freckles that littered over each other’s bodies.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I’m yours, Neteyam. Forever and always.”

He tenderly kissed the side of your forehead. “Forever and Always.”

---

The sound of slapping and high-pitched moans and cries filled the young Omatikaya warrior’s twitching ears as he trailked behind his friends within the forest of Pandora.

“Come, Ka’ani! Over here.” Takuk called out to him, pulling his attention away from the obscene noises.

“I’m coming-” he began but was soon cut off by what sounded like Y/N’s voice in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck! Oh, Great Mother!”

Ka’ani stilled at the sound. Takuk was jogging over to him, giving his friend a confused look. “Bro, what are you doing?”

“Neteyam!” You voice bounced off the trees around them, the faint glow of the Tree of Souls in the near distance.

Ka’ani groaned as Takuk let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

---

TAGLIST:

@afro-hispwriter​ @softhetixx @neteyamforlife​ @cheetacatch11 @dilfmilfhunter @sloppierjewel @regulus-black-223048​

[botanicalsword]

Being unforgettable after breakup • Lilith in Marks Chart

✧ When should we check Marks Chart in Tertiary Progression

✧ Situation :

Relationship / connection during early stage (before entering the relationship)

after breakup

uncertainty / lack of stability

✧

This prediction is temporary , and the impact it has on you, whether it causes tension or harmony, depends on the natal-to-natal aspects that should be taken into account.

✧

✦ Marks Chart : overall condition >> Marks Chart Reading

acts as a mirror - the actions of one person stimulate the mind of the chart person, which is then expressed through their own actions.

Indeed, it's not only about understanding the psychological effects - it also allows you to observe the other person's behaviour and attitude. It provides a clear perspective on objective factors, apart from the psychological aspect.

✦ Tertiary progression of Marks Chart : on specific date • approach for detailed short-term prediction

✧

✧ Tutorial : How to check ♡

1. Check the Marks Chart of the Person A - How to cast?

2. Check the Tertiary progression Chart of the Mark Chart (Person A)

Chart type : Tertiary progression

Start date : (the specific date you want to check - eg. today's date; the day you broke up)

✧

✧ Lilith • H12 - Black moon Lilith

Moon represents a person's inner self, while Lilith symbolizes their hidden dark side, which is their deeper subconscious.

Although Lilith may not manifest in an overtly obsessive manner like Pluto, it should not be overlooked.

Lilith prefers dark environments, and the less visible it is, the more intense its desires become. Lilith often exerts the strongest influence after separation (or in long-distance relationships) and in situations that cannot be openly acknowledged (such as affairs).

The more aspects Lilith forms with personal planets, the harder it is to forget after a breakup, especially aspects with the Sun, Moon, and Venus in Marks Chart.

Lilith embodies the aspects of oneself that one would prefer to forget: the rejected, the rebellious, the seductress. In this society, Lilith exercises her autonomy but faces significant consequences. She symbolizes the shadowy feminine qualities that women were historically ostracized for.

Lilith also signifies a deep facet of a previous relationship that proves challenging to erase from memory. Whether the experience was positive or negative, it leaves a lasting mark and triggers unconscious patterns of behavior. Lilith serves as a symbol or reminder of something that lingers in one's recollection for an extended period.

✧

✧ Aspects with Lilith

Conjunction, squares and oppositions represent challenging aspects, while trines and sextiles represent harmonious aspects.

When it comes to Lilith, the process of self-inflicted pain and self-destructive tendencies is somewhat inevitable. there comes a point where they find solace and are able to let go of these burdens, while some may carry the weight of these struggles throughout their lifetime.

✧

✧ Aspects in Person A's Marks Chart

Sun-Lilith

Harmonious aspect : Person A is extremely curious about the other person and spends a lot of time researching their social media posts. They have become obsessed with the relationship, showing a strong attachment and constant preoccupation with its dynamics. They feel necessary to understand the importance of this relationship.

Challenging aspect：It can feel like meeting the right person at the wrong time, causing inner conflict and pain. It can lead to periods of separation and reconciliation in the relationship.

✧

Moon-Lilith

Moon - A’s emotional needs and feelings in this relationship

Harmonious aspect : Person A becomes unable to stop thinking about the other person. It's not a conscious choice; rather, they find themselves constantly missing the other person and struggling to forget them. This creates a strong emotional attachment that is difficult to release. Person A's emotions and thoughts are deeply intertwined in this relationship. The fluctuating emotions they experience have a strong effect, causing turmoil and distress. Person A forms a deep emotional attachment and longing, resulting in intense emotional ups and downs that create inner restlessness and unease.

Challenging aspect : The memories of the relationship are painful. It may take the person a long time to let go of their attachments and obsessions.

✧

Mercury-Lilith

Person A frequently recalls past conversations and promises made while they were together. Person B's words and actions remain ingrained in Person A's thoughts. Person A may perceive Person B as highly intelligent, and the conversations they had continue to resurface and leave a profound impression. Thoughts of Person B become all-encompassing and inexplicable for Person A.

✧

Venus-Lilith

Venus - A’s impression of B

Harmonious aspect : Person A often thinks about the happy moments they shared with the other person. They feel a strong attraction towards them and consider them highly appealing. Person B holds a special place in Person A's heart, and their memories continue to have a lasting impact. Person A's thoughts about Person B are all-encompassing and hard to explain, even if others may not see them as conventionally attractive. To Person A, Person B is incredibly attractive and ideal.

Challenging aspect : Person A may find it puzzling how they could have developed feelings for someone who doesn't align with their usual preferences. They might question their own choices and feel surprised by their attraction. At the same time, there are memories that resurface which Person A prefers not to dwell on.

✧

Mars-Lilith

Person A struggles to forget the seductive desire they feel towards Person B. They find a certain gratification in the experience of desire, which can manifest as uncontrollable anger or an irresistible longing. These intense emotions are challenging to contain and may leave Person A feeling powerless. The intense passion they experience can potentially lead to both intense and volatile encounters. This also reveals an understanding of Person A's temperament and a direct experience of their fiery nature.

✧

Jupiter-Lilith

Person A amplifies the cherished memories shared between them and Person B. These memories evoke a sense of carefree and joyful moments when they are together. The happiness experienced in those times becomes deeply ingrained and unforgettable to Person A.

✧

Pluto-Lilith

Person A becomes deeply obsessed with the other person, feeling an intense possessive attachment that prevents them from letting go, regardless of the circumstances. This obsession creates a strong and lasting impression, making it difficult for Person A to forget about the other person. Within this dynamic, there may be unconscious power dynamics at play, with both individuals experiencing a desire for control and being subject to control from one another.

✧

Saturn-Lilith

The relationship leaves impression of repression, conservatism, and a sense of restraint. Person A feels burdened by a weight on their shoulders within this dynamic.

✧

Neptune-Lilith

This connection forms enduring memories of romantic fantasies and ethereal, uncertain experiences shared with Person B. These memories linger in the mind, leaving a lasting impression on Person A.

✧

Uranus-Lilith

There is a struggle to connect and establish intimacy with Person B. They feel a strong sense of separation and an invisible force pushing them apart. Despite attempts to resist, their efforts only lead to further detachment.

✧

Check also:

Asc-Lilith

Dsc-Lilith

Juno-Lilith

✧>> Back to Masterlist ✧ Explicit Content

Quick Access to : ❥ Astro / Asteroid Indicators ❥ Synastry / Composite Chart Observations ❥ House Stellium Observations ❥ Astro basic info / Brief reads ❥ Asteroid database ❥ Personal studies ✧ spiritual journal

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/ instagram : @le.sinex / @botanicalsword

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So I've seen a lot of 'Hop actively dislikes and distrusts Steve', 'Hop tolerates Steve because he's useful during UD shenanigans but doesn't like him', and the big swing to 'Hop has adopted Steve as his own and treats him the same/almost the same as he does El'

BUT, I present:

Hop pseudo adopts Steve because when he and Owens were trying to get the Harringtons to make any decisions about their teenager who saw some sketchy shit and may need government testing they legally gave Hop the rights to act in loco parentis and he takes that seriously because he doesn't want another Will Byers and he's pretty sure the Harrington kid has a concussion.

Hop who stays involved just enough in Steve's life season 1-3 that we the audience see Steve is getting attached. But Hop just sees an annoying kid who won't leave him alone when he's trying to deal with a rebellious psychic and her insane little friends and keeps asking stupid questions about highschool romance and teenage rivalry drama. Knows Joyce Byers doesn't like the kid but won't give a lot of reason why but he's mostly learned to trust that woman's judgement about people. Still gets him the job at Scoops when the kid's dad makes a stink about college and tells him if he survives a few months there he'll consider bringing him on the force, makes sense to keep him close and in a position to help should shit hit the fan again.

Hop who doesn't get it when Steve is one of the most relieved when he 'comes back to life' after Joyce and Murray bring him back from Russia. When Steve introduces him as "My Hop," (something he'd taken to calling him just before season 2 shenanigans) to his sarcastic, fidgety little friend like it means something. The girl, Robin, looks between the two of them and gets this sad look on her face for a second before smiling and shaking his hand and saying something about "Dingus has told me all about you".

Hop who complains to Murray one of the times The Party and assorted teens and adults are over at his renovated and expanded cabin (courtesy of Owens and shady government organizations recognizing these people are worth investing in, heavily if omens are to be believed) when the bald annoyance asks about what's up on there. Complains about having annoying teenagers who have nothing better to do but pester him legally put under his supervision cause their parents can't be assed to care and are spoiled little shits who are slightly more bearable versions of said parents cause he can stand toe to toe with one of those monsters they faced and the kids kind of listen to him. Complains about barely being able to breathe cause of regular visits and check-ins like Hop was still responsible for him. Says at least the extra hands are useful around the cabin what with the still healing up and El pacing herself after the showdown with Creel and still trying to find Max and the Byers not quite moved back to Hawkins yet.

Hop who doesn't realize that Steve hears every word cause he had gone looking for the older man when he disappeared for more than a few minutes, when he couldn't see him to make sure he was here and safe and alive. Steve who thought Hop actually had come to care for him in his own gruff way and had confessed to Robin that in a lot of ways the way Hop has taken care of him makes him the closest thing to the father figure he's always wanted but never thought he'd get to have. Steve who hears Murray hum and recollect a visit from Nancy and Jonathan where their romance officially started (he vaguely knows about the visit, didn't realize that's what happened, didn't realize she couldn't be bothered to even do the decent/considerate thing before moving on to something better) because it seemed it was a pattern he was seeing 'people liked Steve, but people didn't love Steve'.

Hop who hears a choked sound like someone taking a claw to the gut and turns to see Harrington. Steve Harrington his bandages just peeking out from the collar of his shirt and the opening of his sleeves. (He never did get the stories behind those, too busy being fussed over and being told about the kids and how they were doing as Harrington played babysitter) Steve Harrington a kid who went through hell and still managed to smile and laugh and stand tall and unyielding looking at him with a blank face his eyes misty and his shoulders starting to curl in on himself before he clears his throat, chokes out that he just wanted to make sure Hop was alright but looks like Murray had everything under control. He'd go now, get out of his hair, let him rest, let him breathe. Steve Harrington who walks away with purpose like a man on a mission and doesn't acknowledge the kids calling out asking if he's alright, make sure he has his walkie talkie on him.

Hop, who realizes maybe he left behind two kids who missed (needed) him. Who wonders who took care of Harrington's paperwork when he was concussed and sedated because he was bleeding out and feverish from infection and Hop was busy at the cabin reveling in the comfort and warmth of his daughter and the woman he loved and her two sons who were fast becoming like his own. Hop, who realizes too late that maybe if he'd given the kid half a chance he could have had 3 sons to sit with him and his daughter and the woman he loved as they basked in surviving another end-of-the-world. Hop who has spent years barely giving a damn about Steve Harrington and realizes that he's no better than the kid's own parents.

Part 2

Part 3

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Being His Sibling- Riddle Rosehearts

Idk the idea came to me. Yuu is GN— 6k words

Tws/Cws: Yuu is said to have medium length hair, Riddles mom is expectedly shitty and abusive, Yuu has shady behavior because of shitty abusive mom. Yuu is untrustworthy of Riddles friends for the first half. Hurt/comfort, angst with a good ending. No incest! Just Platonic!

Before NRC:

You were the older sibling of the Rosehearts family. Being the oldest, one of the very first things you have learned since becoming sentient is that a mothers love is no different from a mothers hatred. From the minute you could babble, your mother did everything she could do to control you. You weren’t allowed outside to play, you weren't allowed any snacks no matter how much your stomach rumbled. You weren't allowed to wear fun or silly stuff. And you were never allowed to fail or talk back.

Soon, your mother— the term rotted in your mouth— soon became pregnant again, and your precious little brother Riddle came to be. You remember your father holding you up to see the small bundle of joy in your mothers arms, excited that you may have a playmate. The excitement however, became resentment.

From the minute he was born, you were no longer a priority, usually being ignored in favor of the new addition to the family. Your chatter is ignored, your physical needs pushed aside, and your emotions bottled. Even when you went to talk to your baby brother and interact with him, mother would immediately begin to lecture you for seeing him without her permission, and you were locked away in your room to study. Yet whenever you peeked out, you saw your mother cooing and coddling Riddle, something you never really remember experiencing, but she would never play with the child.

Whenever you heard your mothers footsteps fade into the distance, you would come out to play, giving Riddle all the things you wish you were given. And one day, you heard his first words— your name. “Yu!” The baby gurgled, making you jump. “What did you say?” “Yuuu!” A wobbly smile grew on your face as you hugged the baby, in that moment promising yourself that you would always protect him

As you got older so did your brother, and mother did what she always does, control. But this time it was different. Mother would always praise Riddle for his studies, but never you. She was always lighter on his scolding, when she would scream at you. Though you were also locked away to study, she never really cared about your progress the same way she did Riddle’s. From there started a grudge that you would hold onto. What’s the point of doing anything mom wants when Riddle’s her precious little angel? If you don't matter at all what would it matter if you acted up?

Mother didn’t entertain your rebellious streak for long, the screaming match that came from you simply saying you wanted to go outside instead of reading left a mark on you. “I don’t get you, Yuu! I did everything for you! I cleaned you, I bathed you, I gave you life! I cook and clean for you! Why cant you be more like Riddle!” She screamed. “I'm sorry mama… I'm sorry!” Your child self babbled shakily while sobbing. “I just wanna play outside with the other kids!”

Father stepped in to try and stand up for you, but he got yelled at too. And you remember watching as your potential savior gave up on you, allowing mother to lock you away in your room again. And yet, you could still hear as she walked off, muttering insults under her breath, wondering why she ever had you.

Riddle soon became the age you were when you started ‘acting out’ and since then you’ve learned to be more sneaky. When mom went away you would sneak out to visit him in his room, playfully messing with him and getting him to take a break to play. “Won’t mom get mad?” Riddle asked, looking up at you with big stormy gray eyes. “As long as you don't tell her— that being said,” You dropped to your knees. You knew that even if she found out, you would be the one blamed for it, “Only I can visit you okay? Don’t come into my room..” “Why?” You chuckled, trying to find a believable excuse. “Cause my room is super boring! Seriously you won't like it.” “Oh.. okay!” Riddle beamed, allowing you to distract him from the theory books he’s forced to read, and telling him fairy tales instead to watch his eyes grow big with wonder.

Mom thought that you were no longer a problem. You never spoke up or out, you did as she said with your head bowed down, you always ate what she gave to you no matter how tasteless it was, and you excelled at your studies. Finally, she was relieved that you stopped resisting, not knowing how you actually were,

For months, you snuck out and played with Riddle in his room, even giving him the answers to some of the assignments mother forced him to do. At parties you were forced to attend, you went behind your mothers back to steal some sweets to sneak to Riddle, knowing how much he always wanted to try them. And when he was still hungry from the small portions of food he was given, you would give him yours, ignoring your own stomach just to see your brother beam.

One day however, Riddle came to your room. “What are you doing here? Only I can go into your room remember?” “Well, um, I know but…” Riddle pulled at your hand to guide you to his room. “There's people at my window!” “Really huh?” “Mmhmm!” Going into his room, you saw two figures peeking through. Both young boys, one a feline beast man with bright pink hair and a stunning smile, and the other a green haired boy with glasses closer to your age.

“They said they want me to play with them but I said I had to ask you first. Can I play with them? Please please please, Yuu?” Riddle pouted, and a pang of jealousy hit you for a moment before you let out a breath. You should be happy for your brother, even if you wish to join them, but you must stay behind and keep watch.

“Of course, Riddle.” You said. “Just come back in on my cue, okay? We can't let mom find out.” You smiled at him, helping him climb out of the window and outside, where you melancholically watched the trio play. It was okay though, your brother is happy just like you promised.

All good things came to an end, however. You were too late on your cue, and Mother found out. You have never heard Riddle cry as hard as he did that day in your entire life, his terrified wails leaving a scar on your heart. However you knew what came next was going to be worse. She was going to scream at you too. You heard Riddle apologize over and over and over and over— It was driving you insane.

Suddenly, you entered the room. You were going to get screamed at anyways, so what did it matter? “Yuu get out of here, dont think your off the hook either! I can’t believe you went behind my back like that! I thought your matured! Aren’t you supposed to be a role model for your little brother?!” “Aren't you supposed to be a mom?”

“Excuse me?!” The wretched woman demanded.

“You treat me and Riddle like shit!” The woman’s face contorted with shock at the language that she never taught you— unaware of the secret books you hid that she didn't approve of. “All you do is scream at us and lock us up! Whenever we ask for anything and do anything you don't like, you just scream at us!” You sobbed, “Why did you even have kids if you don't want to raise them!”

“Do not speak to you mother like that—“

“You’re not my mom! You are the worst mom ever! I hate you! Ever since Riddle was born you always ignored me! And you don't even take care of him either! This is why you and dad fight all the time! You’re never happy with anything. Even when I do everything you ask you're never impressed! All you do is scream! I hate you! I hate you so much!”

Your kid self sobbed, and mother seemed to forget about Riddle, harshly grabbing your arms and dragging off. As she did, you saw your father behind her, merely standing by, doing nothing to save you. You weren't allowed out of your room for days, you weren’t even allowed around Riddle without supervision either.

That's when you really became unruly. If mother locked the windows and doors of the house you would pick them and sneak out. When she conducts room checks, you memorize all the places she looks so you can keep your forbidden goods hidden. Mother hated you, and she made it known. Everything she said was a snide remark at you. How at 18 you will be kicked out. How awful of a kid you are. How fat you're getting since you're sneaking food. How your magic will never be as good as Riddles since you're slacking off.

One day, however, it all boils over. You don’t remember how old you were— 15? 16? Maybe 17? But what you do remember is mom starting up a classic screaming match, talking about how ungrateful and wicked you are. Comparing you to Riddle and saying how she hopes you haven’t corrupted him with your evilness.

“Don't you dare bring Riddle into this! This is between us. This argument is between us! How dare you accuse me of hating my brother, when you have done nothing but make his life hell, when all you have ever done is turn us against each other! When you placed my entire worth on a few pathetic books” You screamed back at her as the verbal abuse continued. Riddle soon came down from his room, as you looked at him.

He’s gotten taller now, and face slightly longer. He walks with perfect posture. Usually, you felt comfort in your brother, but you noted his unimpressed expression. “Riddle, please, don't get involved. This is between me and mom.”

“Why do you hate her so much?”

“What?”

“She’s right.”

Mother seemed to smirk as you turned to look at him

“You’re joking.” You sneer.

Riddle glares. “It's not her fault that you don't care for the rules. If you only followed them, you wouldn’t be in trouble all the time.”

“That's the issue, her rules always change for me so she has a reason to keep getting mad at me.”

“Maybe if you kept studying you wouldn’t be so stupid as to not understand the value of rules! She’s right! You have done nothing but cause trouble for as long as I can remember! If you would just listen—“

You shook with anger, “Don't you dare talk to me about listening, Riddle! I gave everything for you! Don't you dare pretend the happiest days of your miserable life weren't because of me! I did everything I could to try and look after you and you just—“

You were silenced by a loud slap across your face. It stung. You froze, holding the area as it bruised, bleeding in the areas where the nails made contact with your skin. “How dare you talk to your brother like that! Stop being so jealous over—“ You didn't register what she said, your ears ringing as eyes welling with tears as all you could was look at Riddle who seemed to stare at you with disdain.

This wasn't the Riddle you knew. The Riddle you grew up with. The Riddle that babbled your name as a baby. How long have you been protecting a stranger? Acting up so he can have the slightest bit of freedom that you longed for.

You narrowed your eyes before clenching your fists. "Shut up!" You snapped at your mother. "I'm sick of you! You want me gone? Fine! I'm out!" "Yuu Rosehearts! You go through that door I'm calling the police!" "Go ahead! Tell them what a shitty mom you are! And you!" You glare at Riddle before closing your eyes. "Just stay out of my life."

You walked out, snagging a fair amount of money that you saved over the years to book it out of the Queendom of Roses, finding your own place to crash at as you work a few jobs to keep yourself afloat, up until you are invited to NRC.

At NRC, before Riddle:

You were sorted into Heartslabyul, the dorm of law and order much to your surprise. You were expecting Scarbia or Savanaclaw given their dorms ‘survival of the fittest’ themes. Still, you would take what you could get.

As you stood in line for your dorm, you noticed a familiar green-haired man in the same group. Trey made eye contact with you, obviously surprised to see you, and gave you a nervous smile. You glared at him before looking away. You wanted nothing to do with the man that's responsible for feeding into Riddle’s issues. You both avoided each other, only interacting with necessary and never dragging anything out with each other.

Surprisingly, you thrived in Heartslabyul, able to heal your inner child with all the mundane tasks you had to do, even guiding others and helping them with theirs. You did well in school, usually getting the top score on every test. You had to get good grades for a good job, especially since your parents cut you off financially. You can’t afford to slack off, and yet, you helped to tutor others. Not to mention your magical knowledge and use was already ahead of most others.

At some point within the year, the dormleader approached you, much to your surprise. He noticed all you heard work and wanted to hand off the title to you. After all, next year he would be a senior and would have to go off campus. He would need someone to look after the dorm when that happens and after all he’s done, he needs a break.

Being a dorm leader would look great on transcripts on top of all the other benefits it had. You accepted, and the crown was passed down to you. You were honestly the best dormleader at the school given the fact you knew how to lead, were kind, and got all your shit and trauma together. You were relaxed, but still implemented rules, including all of the Queen of Hearts rules to honor her dorm. Of course, you weren't too strict.

“You need to have lemonade with two sugars,” You mentioned to your dormmate. “Eh- sorry dorm leader I’ll—“ “Don't panic, just stand up and drink it.” “Huh?” You smiled. “If you truly look at the rules and all the addendums, you’ll find a lot of loopholes. The rules says you have to sit down and have two sugars in lemonade. It didn't say what you couldn’t drink while standing.”

You smirked, your mothers rules and years of having to deal with shady jobs made it easy for you to find exploits in any sort of fine print handed your ways, and you were sure to try and teach your underlings the same. Even if they didn’t use exploits and didn’t care much for the crazy rules, you didn’t mind. You weren’t a tyrant. The entire dorm looked forward to each Unbirthday and Birthday party you planned, each one stretching traditions to their limit to offer something unique.

Your knowledge of contracts and high test scores even attracted the attention of other dorms, especially a certain octopus. When you caught some of your students in shady contracts, you would review it with them and point out everything they could take advantage of. This led to you being confronted by the Octavinelle housewarden pretty quickly, though annoyed he was quite impressed.

“Now there Yuu, I do hope you can not interfere with business.” “I don't plan to. If any of my dorm members decide to sign their life away, that's their fault. I can point out a few chips in the contract, but it’s not my job to save them.” Azul seemed impressed. “My, my, it’s quite rare to find someone so reasonable!” Azul smiled with his honeyed voice. “I do wonder how you did not end up in our dorm.”

***

On top of your housewarden duties, you also ended up finding a wonderful job working for Mostro Lounge, not at Mostro Lounge. Your quick thinking and keen eye helped to calculate Azul’s profits faster than he ever could— you had experience from your times of being homeless and couch surfing. On top of that, you would always point out where he could make a contract more water tight, or places where he could reword it so can exploit his victim for even more. It gave you work experience and a good wage that you and Azul both fought over in your business contract together.

Ironic how Azul ended up with another rowdy and rule breaking member under him, as you also stretched the contract you made to its limit. Azul for once didn’t mind too much, since you were fair as long as he was. Plus you keep those twins out of his way too.

After all of these years of working your ass off, you finally, finally made it. You had a stable home for the next few years. Food security! A job! Spare money for little things! Amazing grades! You made it! You would be fine! Despite everything you have gone through, you are going to be okay. You looked in the mirror of your room admiring the hair you dyed to cover up the ruby red locks of hair that tied you to your past. You were free.

It was one night in your dorm, where you were approached by Trey. Even though it has been a year, it was still awkward between you two, and you both didn’t talk to each other. You looked at Trey with the best neutral expression you could muster. “Can I help you?”

“Riddle is coming.” “Pardon?” “Riddle has been accepted into Night Raven, he’s coming next year.” You shut your eyes pensively. “I see.” “Y’know… maybe you both can… Make up…?” You shot a glare at Trey. I’m not taking advice from someone as two-faced as you— an asskisser, you wanted to say. “I’d rather not.” You simply said, making your way to your room. “Goodbye Trey, do not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” You warned, entering your room just to lay back on bed and stare at the ceiling with a newfound dread.

The next year with Riddle:

You stood as the housewarden representative of your dorm, watching as freshmen emerge from their coffins to get sorted. Then you saw him, Riddle. The red haired freshmen walked down the carpet to get sorted when he made eye contact with you, eyes widening for a brief moment before narrowing into a glare, not recognizing you at first with your dyed hair. He stood in front of the mirror, and though you knew it was unlikely, you still hoped that somehow, he would not end up sorted into your dorm.

“Heartslabyul.” The mirror spoke, and like that, everything started to crumble.

Guiding the freshmen to the dorms you stopped them in front of the dorm entrance. It was the dormleaders responsibility to assign everyone a card. “You will be a fine spade,” You said to one before allowing them in. “And you a diamond.” You waved the next person past you. “And you…” You paused when Riddle stood in front of you, before clearing your throat. “A heart would be most suited.”

The welcoming party went fine. You kept it traditional and laid back to not intimidate any of the new members, allowing everyone to socialize. As you engaged in the festivities and croquet, you noticed Riddle and Trey socializing, your brother looking sternly at Trey, before glancing over at you. You had a suspicion that even after all of these years, Riddle still needed to be superior to everyone. Your position as leader would not last long.

***

You had finalized the papers and packed your things. You were moving in the dorm you should have been a part of from the start: Savanaclaw. Azul cried crocodile tears that you didn’t join him, but you know that though you would have loved to be friends with your boss, he was a ticking time bomb of greed. Being under his control at all times was dangerous. Leona on the other hand, ultimately didn’t care about who joined so long as they could sort out their own shit. He was a safer, more minor and reasonable timebomb.

After packing, you went into the rose garden, noticing you were being followed in the distance. When you got to the center of it, where your favorite place in the whole school was, you turned around. It was Riddle and Trey. Tsk, what a surprise.

“I know you were ignoring me.” “Was I, dear brother? My apologies, it was never my intention.” Riddle would have nearly turned red if it wasn't for Trey putting a hand on his shoulder. How pathetic. He was just like his mother.

“I am here to tell you that I intend to duel you for the position of dorm leader.” “Okay, here.” You take off the crown on your head and offer it out to him, watching as your little brother stares at it a mix of baffled and offended. “Is this a joke? Or are you really that lazy and weak-willed?” Riddle demanded, “I refuse to just accept the crown, you need to put in the effort as a leader should!”

“I don't see why, I’m transferring dorms.” Trey raised his brows, “To where?” “Octavinelle,” you lied, not wanting to risk them harassing you in your new dorm. “Anyways, here you go, Housewarden Riddle. I’m sure you and Trey here would be wonderful leaders.”

“I refuse! Put in some effort for once in your life, Yuu!” Riddle scolded you in that damn tone mother always used on you.

You just laughed. “You do not deserve my effort, firstly. Secondly, are you being intentionally dense or have you forgotten what I said to you— I want you to stay out of my life. I do not want contact with any of you anymore. I'm done! I'm sorry it ended this way. I hope you get everything you ever wanted and I hope I hear nothing about it, truly, I do.”

You throw the crown onto the ground as you take a deep breath. “Don’t visit my new dorm. Do not look for me at all. I am tired of you always making me feel bad about myself and having to be superior to me. The years I spent away from all of you, were the happiest I ever had.” You glared, tears in your eyes as you look for any trace of what remained of the brother you once knew, only to be met with disgust, he huffs then speaks.

“Why would I ever visit or look for you? We are not family anymore if I recall, and we were never family to begin with. It’s ridiculous of you to even think I would want to be related to someone like you in the slightest.” Riddle stated. “You weren't my sibling. You never were, and never will be.” His glare made you chuckle cynically.

“Is that so? Well then, I’m glad that's the case…” You take a few steps closer to him, towering over Riddle height wise. It's impressive how much someone could grow when they weren't stressed all the time and had some proper food. You lowered your voice. “I cannot believe I wasted my entire life protecting you. The amount of abuse I have taken in your stead, all for nothing. You, you're just like her.” You sneer, pushing past Riddle before pausing. “I used to have a brother once you know? He had the kindest smile and the wildest imagination. Whenever we played pretend together we would imagine that we could both take over the world as brothers in arms. I wonder what happened to him.

You take another step forward as Trey looks away from you. “And you.” You sound absolutely feral by now. “I would have expected you of all people to not accept roles that you don’t want to be in,” You leaned in closer. “You damned two-faced son of a bitch. You allowed this to happen to him.” You didn't even look back at Trey as you made your way out of the maze, back to your room to change clothes, pack your bags and go.

***

Since the first week that Riddle took charge, you have heard nothing but horror stories. He was as tyrannical as you imagined him to be. Whatever, it wasn't your problem anymore, the others will get fed up and deal with him eventually, and maybe then he will finally learn. Besides, Trey seems to have no issues anyways.

Life in Savanaclaw was bliss, you fit in a bit too perfectly, not afraid to rough up others if it came to it. You shared a room with your closest friend, Ruggie. It surprised the both of you with how close you came, actually. Coming from a poor background, you both shared tips for saving money and DIY, along with helping each other do some sleazy things to get by.

You both helped each other get jobs, and you even helped Ruggie pay for stuff with no strings attached since you were more well off. You lended each other's stuff all the time. You even help him grab discounted stuff in bulk for him to take back to his village. You helped to tutor each other in subjects you both struggled with and would even allow him to copy your homework. You both understood each other. Finally, someone gets you!

You rarely see Riddle. The only time you ever do is during test postings. You go up to check your score, and as usual, it is in the top spot. Satisfied, you shrug and turn around, and go to walk off, when you see your brother in the crowd. Riddle's eyes look at the top spot in a mix of disbelief and jealousy, absolutely miffed on how he wasn't on top. You looked up to see where the Riddle's test was, just to see it directly below yours, only one extra credit point behind. You don't think much of it. You leave.

Every test, you would go and glance at the wall, just to make sure your grades were fine, and everytime you notice how Riddle looks absolutely frustrated. You honestly aren't doing it to try and get back at him at all, in fact you wouldn't care if Riddle beat you, as long as you were on the wall you were above average. Eventually, Riddle does beat you on one test— Algebraic Magic Notation, something you never really cared for.

You saw yourself in second place, noticing in the corner of your eye how Riddle seems to stare at you for your reaction, before you just shrug as you walk off, feeling a glare in the back of your head as you do so. You had lunch with Ruggie today.

Overblot:

You have heard about that new magicless student around. Enma Yuuken, his name was. Apparently he caused a lot of commotion at the entrance ceremony and is a dorm leader and stuff now, cool, good for him. You never expected him and his Heartslabyul friends to seek you out however.

You were exiting Mostro Lounge after some accounting and contract checking Azul had you do for his next big plan. As you walked through the dorm on your way out, you noticed a certain quad behind you. “… Can I help you?” You turned around and asked, looking at the students. There was a spade and heart with a collar from your brother around his neck, along with a tall, broad student behind them, monster on his shoulder.

“Hey are you Yuu? Chenya said we could find you here.” The spade asked respectfully. “Chenya huh…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?” You asked curtly, staring at your newly dyed hair in the windows of the lounge. “Is it true Riddle’s your brother?” The heart asked desperately and sighed. “Not anymore. He’s dead to me. Is that all you need?” You narrowed your eyes.

“O-oh! Uh…” Deuce stuttered. “That doesn’t matter, can you tell us why the hell he's like this?” “Can I go back to my dorm?” “Is this not your dorm…?” Yuuken asks. You just blink at them. “Everyone we asked about said your from Octavinelle.” Grim muttered, you gripped your Savanaclaw ribbon in your fist to hide it.

"Firstly, I am a liar and you should never live in a place that your employer has control of, it will always result in a power imbalance, and believe me you do not want someone like Azul to have leverage over you. Secondly I don't share where I live because of people like you trying to ask me about Riddle."

You stare over at them watching as they all stare at each other with a tinge of guilt. You huff, "Fine, if you have questions, follow me. It's not safe to answer them here. There are eyes everywhere."

***

You look around outside of the dorm as you lead the group down the hall before stopping. “Okay what do you need to know?” “So your brother,” the heart starts. “How the fuck did he end up the way he is?” At that you let out a short laugh. “Oh, is that what this is about?” “Yeah sort of!” The heart sputters. “Look, we're trying to get him to stop being… like that… and we need to learn about him first!”

“I’m afraid you’ve been led on a wild goose chase. I haven’t had contact with him in years.” “Eh?!” The group booms. “Yeah, sorry about that, he told me I was never his sibling and that I never would be. If you really want to know why he’s like that, you should ask Trey.” “Trey?” Grim asks.

You nod. “They grew up together too, and he was around him for much longer since I left. Good luck overthrowing my brother though, if you need anything else let me know, though we haven’t talked to each other in a while, I can read him like a book.”

***

You didn't expect the quad to show up again the next day, this time at lunch where you sat. “What is it now?” You ask curiously as the heart— Ace, you learned, sits across from you pouting with his collar still on. “We’re challenging Riddle to the seat of housewarden!” “Oh?” Yuuken looks at you seriously and nods. “We need you to tell us everything about him."

You chuckle sadly. “Even if I did, you all stand no match. We were both forced to study magic before we could even walk, and you both have barely learned how to change colors of objects using magic. I’m sorry, but you cannot win.” Grim whines and Deuce sighs, “What, you saying we're weak?” “I am saying you are inexperienced. Do any of you even know how to cast a warding spell?”

The card soldiers went silent. “You know…” Yuuken starts. “Didn’t you fight Riddle since you were the housewarden before him? What did he do?” “I didn't. I gave it to him and left the dorm.” “You what?! You willingly handed over the dorm to him?!” Ace gawked. “I’m sorry, but it is not my job to save him from himself. Even if I won, he would just keep bothering me over and over. I ran away to get away from the person who defended the person that hit me, forgive me for not wanting to put up with him again.”

At that the table quieted. “So uh… what's your magic like… or your unique one at least…” Deuce asks. “Wouldn’t you like to know? All you know is that it tends to break the rules of everything around me when used— Ironically, with it, Riddle's spells wouldn’t even work with how by the book all his are.” “Breaks the rules..?” Deuce echoes. “Can’t tell you anything else, sorry.”

“Wait! What if we brought you with us as backup?” “It would be an invalid duel, I’m not from the dorm anymore.’ “What if you support us in the shadows or something.” “That's cheating!” Yuuken scolds. “Exactly.”

The cards sigh and you frown. “Look, I cannot help you with that from here, however, on the day of the duel I will accompany you. I'll hide in the crowd and step in if he takes it too far, since he tends to.”

He took it way too far as you stood before your brother, filled to the brim with blot. You sigh as you stand behind the freshmen you came to support, no longer hiding. “Come on Riddle. It doesn’t have to be like this.” “SILENCE! I am… I AM RIGHT! I AM STRONGER! You know NOTHING! You ran away! What would you know?!” “We aren't getting to them. Freshmen, get out of here, this is between us.”

“Nuh uh! I’m kicking his ass too!” Ace says. “Right!” Deuce replies. Yuuken pulls out his kendo stick, ready to fight despite being magicless. “Fine then, just follow my lead.”

***

You watched as the blot left your brother in front of you. The tyrant, no longer fighting. Then, and only then, did you collapse from your injuries. Even when you gave those freshies direct orders they put themselves in harm's way, meaning you had to tank the hit for them. “Yuu!” Deuce called out. “I'm fine! I'm just… tired…” You felt blood drip down your face as you laid down.

Upon snapping out of the blot, you heard sobbing, the same sad sobs that happened on that fateful day. “I'm sorry!” Riddle shouts, reminding you of how mother would making him apologize over and over. Your head pounds, and the next thing you feel is someone sitting next to you, putting a hand near your face to check your breath before resting it on your cheek, and you recognize it.

They were larger than they were before, but the softness was unmistakably Riddle’s. His hand held you face the same he did when you were both kids and you would lift him up in the air, pretending that he was flying. You smile and open your eyes, and are met with his face looking over you.

He was sobbing, face flushed and hair unkempt for the first time in his life, and yet the look in his eyes was unmistakably the Riddle you once knew. You smile up on him and reach up to cup his face as well. “I think… I finally found my little brother I used to play with after all these years…” You chuckle before sucking in a breath at the pain, making Riddle panic and pull you onto his lap. “Yuu!”

Riddle holds you close to him, pulling you in a hug. “I’m sorry! You were right! You were right… I treated you badly… Will you ever forgive me….?” He sobbed into your neck and you reached up to hug him. “I wasn't mad at you, Riddle. I never was. I was scared… Scared I lost you to her.”

You were critically injured, in unbearable pain, and yet here you were still protecting and comforting your little brother like you always swore you would. “I love you Riddle, always did you know that right?” Riddle choked back a sob and nodded. “Good, I’m glad you know.” “Don’t leave me… Please dont leave me alone again! Not after I just got you back…” “Hey… don't worry about me okay? I'll be fine, I’ve experienced worse. I'll bounce back in no time, and we can have tea parties again, Just like when we were kids,” you choke, and Crowley comes in just in time to pick you up as you struggle to breathe, making Riddle get up and crowd you.

“They’re going to be alright, right?” Riddle sobs. “Riddle,” you mumble. “Takes a lot more than that to kill me.” You beam confidently, despite the various injuries on your body. “Right now your dorm needs you. Show them what a great leader you can be, kay? I always thought you played a better queen than I did…” You slur. “I know that Heartslabyul will shine better with than it did with me.”

“Come on Yuu, let's get you to a doctor.” Crowley says, flying off with you in his arms. Riddle watched as he shook, and a smile grew on his face.

Resolution:

You lay on one of the beds in the nurse's office. Pixies come to cater to your needs every once and a while as you rest to the sound of the heart monitor beeping. You turn your head to the side to look in a mirror and your hair is an unruly mess that matches you, this time however, it is the same ruby red that matches your brother after you used a coloring spell on it. And for once, you do not hate your resemblance to him.

A knock is heard from the door, and you watch the door open in the mirror. Riddle comes in, a small tray in hand. The minute he sees you, he carefully approaches, placing the tray on the bedside table. You prop your bed up to see him better, smiling gently to try and ease his guilty and nervous expression.

“It’s nice to see you.” “I um… brought you something.” Riddle mumbles, opening the box he brought in. Unveiling it, you can see it is a tiny strawberry tart, the ones you would always try to sneak to him when you lived at home. The edges were burnt and it was slightly misshapen, but it was perfect. “I um.. made it, by myself.” He holds his hands in front of himself and looks down.

You reach over for it just to cause Riddle to fuss over you. “Don't move, you're hurt, I’ll feed you.” The housewarden holds the box in his arm, pulling out the spoon he brought with him and carefully scooping up a piece shakily before holding it to your mouth. “Heh, I can get used to this.” “You still have the energy to tease me on your deathbed? You really are… something…” Riddle pouts, making you snicker internally as you take the bite, savoring the tart in all its glory. It’s probably the best thing you’ve ever had.

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry… The tart is really good though…” “We are planning to have an Unbirthday party to make up for the last one… It was supposed to be today, but I put it off so you can come when you're better… If you want to.” “Will it be like the tea parties we imagined as kids? Where were together and can play and eat whatever we want?” “Yes, yes it will be just like the tea parties we had as kids.”

You tear up a bit. “I would love to.”

[srvbryn]

Luke Castellan. Detention

Not set in riordanverse & highschool au!Luke; MASTERLIST

Luke Castellan X f!reader

Summary: "Well, well, look who's joined the detention club" Luke gets detention — He misplaced his history textbook, and what's better than stealing borrowing it from the library?

Warning: teenagers acting like teenagers, not a lot of dialogues, they have houses like the one in Harry Potter lol (only mentioned once) & Reader house is not mentioned, this is a bit boring

The detention room felt confined, with time moving at a snail's pace. Luke sat there, tracing imaginary patterns on the desk, the minutes ticking away like a never-ending countdown.

Just when he thought he was alone with the hum of Mr. D and the ticking of the clock, the door creaked open, and in walked (Name), a smirk on her lips.

"Well, well, look who's joined the detention club," Luke teased.

(Name) rolled her eyes and took the seat next to him. "Figured I'd keep you company. Detention is always more fun with a partner in crime, right?"

Luke couldn't help but chuckle — "Partner in crime, huh? I like the sound of that."

As the minutes passed, the two of them had whispered conversations, exchanged notes, and made light of the situation.

(Name) couldn't resist making fun of Luke's situation.

"So, what's the grand crime that got you in here, Luke?" she asked with a sly grin.

A few hours ago — LUKE CASTELLAN

Luke's risky textbook stealing borrowing scheme involved a well-thought-out strategy that, avoided the school administration's watchful gaze.

He may or may not have misplaced his textbook accidentally.. hahaha

However, this time, it was a classic case of overconfidence that led to his downfall.

Luke decided to carry out his plan during the school assembly, when most teachers were busy with maintaining the wandering student body under control.

Confident that he could slip in and out like a shadow, he ventured into the classroom, only to find himself face-to-face with the one teacher who had decided to stay behind to organize some papers.

As he reached for the textbook, Mr. Chiron looked up from his work and caught Luke in the act. The moment was frozen, and an uneasy silence filled the room.

Luke's grin faded into a sheepish smile as he tried to come up with a plausible excuse.

Mr. Chiron raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Luke Castellan, what exactly are you doing in here during the assembly?"

Luke scratched the back of his head, attempting to feign innocence. "Oh, you know, just wanted to get a head start on some reading. Education waits for no one, right?"

"Nice try, Mr. Castellan. I don't recall giving you permission to access the library during the assembly. Detention it is."

And that's how Luke's textbook borrowing adventure came to an abrupt halt, leading him to the very detention that (Name) chose to join.

Luke leaned in, a gleam in his eyes. "I may have liberally borrowed some textbooks without asking. The school administration didn't appreciate my innovative approach to study materials."

(Name) burst into laughter, earning them a stern look from Mr. D. "Classic Hermes house move. Couldn't just check out a classroom book like the rest of us, huh?"

"Where's the fun in that?" he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. "Besides, I thought it added a touch of rebellion to my academic pursuits."

The two of them continued to jokes, causing the otherwise boring detention surprisingly pleasant.

The more they chatted, the more (Name) realized there was more to Luke than his rebellious exterior.

They even swapped a few sarcastic comments about the school's absurd rules. (No phones allowed, must wear a tie all the time, don't run in the hallways (the usual))

The teacher on duty, Mr. D, sat at his desk, buried in paperwork (surprisingly) unaware.

Luke discreetly crumpled a piece of paper and passed it to (Name) with a glint in his eyes.

They exchanged a knowing look, silently agreeing on their next move. (Name), with a suppressed giggle, aimed the paper at the back of Mr. D's head and let it fly.

The paper landed with a soft thud, catching the teacher's attention. He turned around, narrowing his eyes at the seemingly innocent duo.

"Alright, who did that?" Mr. D demanded, scanning the room.

Luke and (Name) exchanged innocent glances, attempting to suppress their laughter. Mr. Anderson sighed, suspecting he was dealing with a pair of children.

As Mr. D returned to his paperwork, the both of them couldn't resist another attempt at amusement.

This time, Luke folded the paper into an aeroplane. With a quick motion, he launched it at Mr. D, causing it to glide gracefully through the air.

The paper airplane did a loop-de-loop before landing on Mr. D's desk, right in front of him. He looked up, a mix of irritation and bemusement on his face.

"Alright, that's enough. We're in detention, not a paper competition," he scolded, shaking his head.

Luke and (Name) exchanged a glance, barely containing their laughter.

As the final minutes of detention passed, Mr. D kept an eye on them, suspecting that more antics were on the way.

Luke and (Name), however, had already shared enough laughs to make their time in detention enjoyable.

Luke couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment as the clock ticked down to the end of their detention.

He glanced at (Name), a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Same time tomorrow, partner?"

(Name) raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. "Only if you promise not to get caught every time."

Luke chuckled. "Deal."

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

How to Write Disability: SPOP vs ATLA

(TW: ableism)

(before i start talking about this, i have to tell you that i am not physically disabled so my observations may not be a 100% correct. i'm only writing this post in relation to my experience with autism. if you feel like something i've said is inaccurate or insensitive, please feel free to let me know!)

so the two characters i wanted to talk about, in reference to writing disabled/neurodivergent characters, is Entrapta from SPOP and Toph from ATLA.

Entrapta is an autistic woman who grew up in solitude, only surrounded by robots. as a result, she is desperate for human etherian connection while at the same time, struggling with social interactions because of her autism.

she was pretty heavily autistic-coded, even before the writers confirmed that she was canonically autistic; she has a hyperfixation on tech and machinery, she is shown to stim a lot, she has a preference for tiny food (likely a sensory issue) and she is not good at reading social cues or communicating in a way that neurotypical people would understand. she is also an extremely intelligent and intuitive person who is not only good at handling tech but also shows love and affection towards people in her own way.

Toph is a character from ATLA, who was born blind. not completely unlike Entrapta, Toph was also raised in solitude, although she had her parents and servants to look after her.

her parents were convinced that Toph was incapable of being independent, because of her blindness, and were unwilling to look past her disability and treat her as a person. as a result, Toph is extremely rebellious and stubborn. she is an incredibly capable individual who learned how to navigate her way through earthbending. however, she still faces difficulties due to her disability and has to rely on her friends every once in a while.

the trope that these two shows share in relation to their disabled characters is the humor. there are jokes made about Entrapta's and Toph's disability in both shows. however, the key element that differentiates these jokes is the target.

Toph was never the butt of a joke in ATLA. in fact, she was the one making jokes about her disability 90% of the time. Toph was comfortable enough with her blindness that she didn't mind joking about it or even pranking the others sometimes.

in fact, one of the running gags in the series is that the other characters forget that Toph is blind because of how insanely capable she is.

Toph is never the butt of the joke, she's the one making fun of the others for forgetting about her disability. and it's all done in good faith.

and whenever someone is being ableist towards Toph, it's taken seriously. it's not played off as a joke and the narrative doesn't act like people mistreating Toph is this funny gag that everyone should laugh at.

now let's come to Entrapta. there are “jokes” in the show made about her disability as well, except these jokes are often made at her expense.

one of the most problematic parts of the show concerning Entrapta is the way Perfuma leashes her TWICE, because she was worried that Entrapta would get distracted and leave the group. so instead of holding Entrapta's hand or something like a normal person would, Perfuma decides that the best way to tackle this situation is to treat Entrapta like an animal and put her on a leash.

this is shown as a joke and is never addressed seriously. the show writers think that Entrapta being dehumanized and infantilized is supposed to be funny and quirky. Entrapta never gets to confront Perfuma about this or gets any kind of closure.

this was the main example of ableism in the show but there are also other minor scenes where we see characters treat her in a way that other characters aren't treated.

examples being Catra using Entrapta's trauma and loneliness to manipulate her, and Mermista literally yanking on Entrapta's hair and yelling at her, because she couldn't understand social cues.

there are also multiple examples of what i'd like to call the “translate nerd language” trope, where one of the other characters get irritated at Entrapta for using technical terms while speaking, and she has to dumb it down for them.

there's a way to write disabled characters and while Entrapta was a very relatable and sympathetic character, the ableism towards her is never addressed. the princesses are never called out on their actions, while Catra gets off scot-free after a vague apology.

when ableism was portrayed in ATLA, it was always taken seriously. Toph was allowed to leave her toxic parents and find people who accepted her for who she is, she was allowed to prove people wrong and be a powerful character in her own right. meanwhile, Entrapta was forced to be friends with the people who mistreated her and she was only kept around because she was useful.

[theworldofotps]

Recording It All (NSFW)

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader Word Count: 1,356 Description: Rhea comes to you with a request, she wants to record some intimate moments between the two of you.

Part Two

Warning: Smut, fingering, recording of sexual activities. _________ Tag list:  @omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose @sjwrites22 @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @rebellious-desires @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsmunsonx @mcreignsera

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _________ When Rhea mentioned wanting to talk to you about something important after she got back from her house shows over the weekend. It left you feeling just a little bit anxious. She normally just told you what she wanted to talk about but today she withheld it. So, you spent the whole evening trying to distract yourself as you waited for your girlfriend to return home. When her car finally pulled into the driveway you ran to the door to greet her. 

“Hi babe.” 

You smiled, kissing her lips after she set her bag down hugging you tightly. 

“Hey love.” 

Rhea kissed your temple as the two of you chatted and made your way into the kitchen then up to your room so she could unpack her bag. Sitting on the bed you wait listening as she spoke about her trip.

“So you wanted to talk about something?”

“Yes, I did. I’m just not sure how you’re going to react to it because it may sound a bit weird. It’s nothing bad, and if you want to say no that is totally fine as well. I won’t be upset.”

“Ree just tell me what it is please you’re worrying me a little.”

You say taking her hand as she sits down beside you on the bed, you hadn’t seen her like this since you two first started dating and she asked you to stay the night. Rubbing her hands along her jeans she looked at the floor.

“This weekend while the guys and I were traveling we played this game where we asked each other questions. It was like sip it or spit it something like that. Anyway, one of the questions Dom asked Damian was if he had ever recorded any moments in the bedroom. He gave his answer then all three of them were sort of sharing stories. Well not so much Dom but definitely Damian and Finn.”

Rhea explained as she looked over at you, she needed to be able to see your expression. To know if there was even a fraction of a chance you may be okay with what she was about to ask.

“It got me thinking and I was wondering if we could do that. I have an old camera we could record on. So, we wouldn’t have to worry about it getting leaked, but I just thought it sounded kinda hot.”

If you tried to guess what she wanted to ask this probably wouldn’t even have entered your mind. Sitting there for a few moments you search her face. Rhea was getting a little anxious that maybe she had overstepped. Opening her mouth to tell you to forget it you speak. 

“That does sound kind of interesting, and it could be fun maybe to watch back together or when one of us is home alone?” 

You questioned biting your lip as you offered her a smile. 

“Wait seriously?” 

Nodding you laugh as she jumps up kissing you deeply before rushing off to find her camera. Slipping off the bed you let out a shaky breath as you dim the lights just slightly. 

“Took me a minute but I found it.”

Rhea spoke as she walked back into the bedroom turning the camera on. She smiled at you, placing it on the nightstand and aiming it at the bed. Making her way to you Rhea pressed a soft kiss against your lips. 

“If you want to stop at any time, please just tell me.”

She whispers to you, smiling as you nod your head wrapping your arms around her. Bringing her down to meet your lips in a kiss. Rhea backed you towards the large bed laughing at the squeal that left you when you suddenly toppled back. Scrambling towards the headboard you laid on your back watching as Rhea crawled up the bed like an animal hunting its prey. Kissing your knee, Rhea removed your top and bra, her lips pressing against your skin as she got behind you. Settling yourself between her legs, you turned and pressed your back to her chest.

“Are you ready?”

She asked wanting to be sure that you were still okay with this all.

“Yes.” 

You whispered feeling a little excited when you glanced over to see the red record light was on. Reaching over Rhea picked the camera up, holding it in her left hand as her right slipped down into your sweats. Your hips lift so you can slide them down together, your body was already trembling in anticipation as Rhea left wet open mouth kisses along your shoulder. 

“Fuck princess, look at how needy you are, I can already see the wet patch on your underwear. You really do like the idea of us recording this.” 

Zooming in on your bright red panties Rhea slides her fingers down your stomach tracing a familiar path. Feeling the soft skin that she had felt against her face and fingers so many times before. Your legs part almost automatically for her as her hand moved down closer to where you needed her most. Pulling the fabric to the side Rhea made sure to get the perfect view of her fingers slipping knuckle deep into your cunt. The cool metal of her rings made you tremble slightly, soft moans falling from your lips as her fingers started moving. Filling you over and over again, not quite touching your clit just yet. She wanted you to beg and whimper for her to touch you there. The sounds of your sweet moans always got her worked up. 

“You’re already so wet for me baby, look at how your wetness glistens on my fingers.”

Her voice was thick with lust as she held her fingers up for you and the camera to see, licking her fingers Rhea moaned. The taste of you coating her tongue, her fingers filled you once again and finally you begged.

“Babe please I need you.”

“What do you need?”

Whimpers leave your mouth as she slowly works her fingers up towards your clit but leaves it untouched. Licking your dry lips your mind was clouded with arousal.

“Make me cum please. I want to feel your fingers against my- ohh.”

Your words are cut off into a moan as her thumb rubs against your clit starting in slow circles that had your head falling back into her chest. Rhea made sure to pan the camera up to your face to capture every moment of your impending orgasm. The sound of her fingers in your pussy could be heard lightly filling the room. A smirk crossed the Aussie’s face as your walls began to clench around her fingers. Your moans grew louder as she worked faster, her lips pressed kisses to your neck as she whispered dirty things in your ear.

“You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you right now, feeling your sweet pussy clenching around my fingers. Feeling how your wetness is dripping along my fingers. I want you to be a good girl y/n and cum for me.”

Whimpers fell from your parted lips as that familiar feeling of delicious pressure started building in your stomach. A tingling sensation went through you as Rhea worked your cunt and clit at a fast pace, her lips attached to your neck as you cried out her name. Your orgasm suddenly hit, causing your body to tremble in her hold as your vision darkened. The sound of your moans and your heart pounded in your ears. 

Rhea made sure to capture every moment, one of her favorite things was watching you cum. You felt your body go limp as you began to come down from the high, panting softly. Rhea removed her fingers causing you to whine at being empty. Watching her lick her fingers clean made your legs clench ever so slightly as her eyes filled with lust. 

“You’ve made a mess princess. I think it’s only fair if you let me clean it up.”

A wicked smirk crossed her face as she set the camera to the side, this time her face was buried between your legs.

[merakiui]

Omggg!!! I just saw you thought abt Jade crushing on professor reader and floyd who always acts out, but imagine this, despite darlings scoldings towards floyds rebellious behavior in class, after school when Jade comes back as he needs extra “help” in her class, he ends up finding Floyd stuffing her full of him on her desk, practically breeding her full of his kids!!!

The same desk she grades Jades papers on, the same desk he takes pencils from, the same desk she leans over and practically flash her tiddies to all her students on, the same desk he imagines himself to be stuffing her full of!!!! It’s not fair!! Jade acts so obedient in your class, he’s respectful, he’s passing your class with above a 100%, yet you’re letting the twin who is the complete opposite absolutely ruin you??? It’s not fair!!!

The next day the both of them return to class, and once again the cycle repeats of Floyd blurting out something and you telling him to be quiet. Now though, he knows the truth between the two of you.

If he’s desperate enough, he might wave this piece of blackmail in your face, the only way to stop him from releasing it being if you let him join in on the fun. Oh wait…

Jade is desperate. Very desperate.

(Side note: If it’s available could I be 🎨📝 anon?? ^o^)

🎨 📝 anon........ YOUR MIND!!!!! AS VAST AND BEAUTIFUL AS THE GALAXY AAAAAAA!!!!! And maybe the idea that there's something more between you and Floyd never crossed Jade's mind because he was so certain you only saw him as a nuisance in class. He never realized it may be different outside of class, when it's just the two of you in a quiet lecture hall. But then he was so busy daydreaming of himself in that place. >_< the first thing he does when he happens upon the scene of Floyd pounding you stupid, while you moan and babble like you're in heat, is linger just outside the door, peeking in through the crack. And then he lifts his phone and records it. If he's delusional enough, he can pretend he's Floyd. They're nearly the same from behind, but deep down Jade knows it's not him.

Aaaaaa he's such a jealous thing, so spiteful and vindictive. Possessive like a brat. Jade has it in his head that you're going to be his one day and that there's no room for anyone else, not even his twin. He doesn't want to share for once in his life, and can you really blame him? He's so obsessed. There's no room for sharing with an infatuation this debilitating.

Jade who waits patiently for class to end so that he can have a moment alone with you. Once everyone's left and the door has closed, he packs up his things and strides over to your desk, offering you a placid, semi-shy smile and asking if he can have just a second of your time. There's something he'd like to talk to you about. And you, always so kind and gentle, smile in return and ask him what it is he needs. He pulls his phone from his pocket and turns it to show you, pressing play on a very scandalous recording. You're spread on your desk, legs wrapped around Floyd's waist, while he ruts into you like an animal, grabbing at your tits and squeezing just to hear your cry out.

Jade's smile isn't so meek anymore. Now it's a self-satisfied smirk, and it stretches on his lips as he watches your expression fall with every passing second. It would be so easy to spread this video around the entire school. Jade has connections, and he isn't afraid to use them to expose you and Floyd's little extracurricular. You try to explain yourself, but Jade isn't going to hear you out. This time, you're the one who needs to listen to him.

If you value your reputation and career, you can start making amends (with Jade) by getting on your knees.