#quote if emily can join us for that unquote

[12pt-times-new-roman]

c3e63

Within the chamber, there are remnants of rituals and spells that have been "abandoned."

"You are intruders within my domain." The air instantly gets colder. "Hevestro is not available... I am Evothorir, and you are in my home uninvited." The air grows colder and the lights dim slightly as shadows cascade from the ceiling. "Hevestro is mine. Omadua is mine. This valley belongs to me." A pale gray, pointed face emerges from the cascading shadow, the eyes a faint blue with a smile of crooked, cracked, elongated teeth. With an arcana check, Prism identifies that there is a fey energy to this thing.

Prism says they have nothing invested in Hevestro, that they can get the power they want then leave.

"You smell of... potential." Orym sees some little whips of red light in the shadow.

"Whatever happened, it freed me. I have no interest, for now, in leaving. I am home, and you are intruding... I know how you can help me. You can join Hevestro. You have potential — I want it."

Initiative!

This thing has legendary actions and resistances, and is able to cast at least 6th level spells. As a bonus action, it manifests one of the two glowing red orbs Orym saw, which turns everything in a radius grayscale.

As Orym strikes it, he sees that there's some kind of corporeal form inside the shadow, and assumes that it's Hevestro. When Prism hits it with force damage, the shadow dissipates for a moment and she sees a shriveled elven figure within that also takes the damage.

Ashton rage build update: When Ashton's gravity rage build is active and a creature within the gravity well tries to move away, that creature loses 10 feet of movement and has disadvantage on attack rolls against creatures that aren't Ashton.

With Seedling, Orym dissipates the shadow and uses the grappling vine, which wraps around the shoulder of the humanoid within. With a successful strength check, the body is pulled onto the ground next to Orym, and the shadow shrieks. Then Prism sends Dynios to cast dimension door on the body and teleports it next to Ashton. Now that's what I call teamwork!

Bor'dor does have sorcery points, and uses them to regain a spell slot.

Deni$e gives the elf a healing potion, and he wakes up. He's a middle-aged elf with matted black hair, tanned skin covered in tattoos, and lavender eyes. He's wearing metal bracelets, leather vestments over green robes.

With a quickened eldritch blast, Laudna gets the HDYWTDT! The shadow reduces into a tiny slug-like thing that pulls itself forward before Laudna squishes it. The red orbs fall to the ground and shatter.

(Have I mentioned? Socerer/warlock is one of my favorite multiclass combos because of the quickened spell eldritch blast.)

Bor'dor uses mass cure wounds and heals everyone up, including the elf. The spell looks like little puffs of blue cotton candy. (How/why does he have this spell?)

Hevestro sits up and says that he's responsible for protecting "her," gesturing to the obelisk. "Any solstice is a strange time, and in preparation, we were hoping to reinforce the protective wards here. I don't know how, but Evithirir, the Taker, seems to have escaped and come back." An ancient Gau Drashari named Omadua rooted here long ago, but Evithirir was drawn to the immense power of Omadua and they fought, which diminished him; he was sealed for centuries, broke free during the solstice, and slaughtered the rest of the people in the shrine. However, the battle left Omadua mortally wounded, and she spent her final years implanting her power and spirit as a fane of protection for the region, which has since become the Emerald Tree.

Even Evithirir didn't know why or how they were freed.

Hevestro doesn't know who Ludinus is, and doesn't know what happened to the bodies of his fellows.

"Gau Drashari... not Hishari. Definitely not Hishari." "What do you know of the Hishari?" "Not a terrible amount, just what the locals are aware of... there was a humble village of farmers and crafters called Tumilo — nice folk. But 50 years ago, a charismatic figure arose named Efterin. He was traveling from town to town displaying abilities and giving sermons about the need to reinstall the primordial powers within our world — a task that is foolish, as the gods scattered them long ago. Even so, he drew many to follow him, eventually settling in Tumilo and taking control of the town. Last I heard, the source of Efterin's power was likely his downfall, leading to the destruction of the village. The survivors scattered." The town was far west of where they are now, not terribly far from the base of the Udeespire Mountains.

Ahhh. Abadena was a survivor of the Hishari village, and has "seen the error of their ways," allegedly. Hevestro hopes that she isn't being "re-radicalized" by Ludinus, but she clearly has been, with her talk about a new rise of the Primordials. It explains so much that her beliefs were sourced from the Hishari cult and from her failure to learn from its destruction.

The Hishari were attempting to channel an extremely powerful source of elemental magic, an artifact or something that became a centerpiece to their cult. In not knowing what it was they toyed with, they couldn't control it, and it left a curse upon the land. Hevestro doesn't know for sure, but imagines that the power they were trying to access was sourced from the Primordial Titans themselves. But if this took place 50 years ago, then Ashton definitely experienced some kind of temporal displacement — so my money is on this artifact being a Luxon beacon.

"In the conflict between the gods and the primordials, it was proven that perhaps, such power should not be focused in only a handful of individuals. With their destruction and eventual dispersal in the presence of the gods, the lands were left to largely live for themselves, outside of the influence of the temples and the local governments. That's where eidolons thrive — that's where we thrive, and that's why this valley is sacred, why we keep such strong mind to keeping it as it always has been."

Hevestro is happy to teleport the Bells Hells (and the group seems ready to split up at the drop of a hat), but he needs to recover his spells first.

Prism asks what he knows of the githzerai — he's heard of them, but doesn't know much, only that they are from the Astral Sea (which he describes as an ocean connecting the disparate shores of the planes).

Off in a corner, Deni$e grabs Bor'dor, twists his arm behind his back, and says, "I feel like you're not telling us everything."

Yessssss Laudna brings up the mass healing word. That isn't on the divine soul sorcerer list, and it's too high level to get from a feat. It seems like that question gets Bor'dor to tell the truth.

He grew up in "Menagerie, not far from Demali." His mother, Demandra, was blessed by the Wildmother, and taught him her ways in secret. They moved to the city, and under the guise of being leatherworkers, stayed away from the eyes of the people of the city and the church. Once, when he went into town to get some tools, some rich kids started a fight with him and he hurt them with a spell, nearly killing one. It was an accident, but his mother knew they wouldn't let Bor'dor live, so she took responsibility. She believed in the gods, and accepted her fate because of that; but Bor'dor's brother and father fought against an entire army for her freedom. Demandra's faith, on seeing them fall, shattered, believing that the gods had let her down. So she handed Bor'dor her dagger and told him to run, as the last thing he saw was Demandra engulfing both herself and the guards in a vitriolic sphere. This was years ago. He fled to the Cyrios Mountains, used his magic to make money, stole and tricked, developed a reputation. Soon, he caught attention, and was asked to join a community, and was asked a question. "Do you believe in the gods, and what they do is good?" He said no.

"What community?"

He drops his guise. Eyes full of sadness. A pain that only Orym recognizes -- indescribable grief. He's 6'4, the gold of his skin is cracked and gray.

Bor'dor fires a vitriolic sphere at a little crystal he had left on the ground.

"I saw you, you killed my friends in Marquet, you were there!"

HE'S PART OF THE RUBY VANGUARD. y'all fucking called it.

"You cast inflict wounds on an angel!" "It felt good."

Two initiatives in one episode!

Ashton rage build update: While the gravity build is active, when Ashton hits with an attack, he can use "gravity well" to force the target to make a STR save. On a fail, the target falls prone.

"Just get it over with, just end it -- end it, Laudna." Bor'dor is a bloody mess, crying, and Laudna is in a "bad spot." She goes into her form of dread, branches erupt, her eyes go dark -- and a faint purplish hue emanates from her pupils, a hue that hasn't been seen in a long time. Shaking. "I'm really sorry, Bor'dor. I just can't stand having anyone else betray me." She takes him by the throat and uses hunger of the shadow.

It's an ability (Marisha has never said "cast" in regards to this, she's always said "use") with an attack roll that seems to deal necrotic damage proportional to Laudna's level (in d6s or d8s, I think).

Bor'dor feels his blood turn to ice as he fades to unconsciousness, and Laudna feels good. She almost revels in the delicious revenge, and just hears a heartbeat in the back of her head as she dissociates.

Prism takes more damage from the acid, and she gets angry. She had been given so much hope and fun from the idea that they were learning together, and it was all a lie. She clocks him across the jaw, intending to deal damage in the stupor, and Bor'dor takes 2 death saves from the fist of a wizard with -2 STR.

As Bor'dor's life essence feeds into Laudna's mouth, a mourning veil begins to form over her face. Orym stands, watching, saying and doing nothing. Ashton takes Prism by the shoulders and turns her away. Deni$e doesn't often feel bad, but she does, and unbinds him.

"Laudna. At the threshold of death, Bor'dor is in your grasp, broken and at your mercy. What do you do?" 15 feet away, she sees Orym in her periphery, and he gives a tiny nod. Laudna is barely present, the only thing that's going through her head is Bor'dor's words about the look of someone who knows true pain. It's as if her life is flashing before her eyes, but it's trauma -- "losing Imogen, the solstice, losing her friends, watching so many die, being hung on the tree, death upon death upon death, so helpless, so out of control. In this moment, she has control, and nothing is going to stand in her way." She uses wither and bloom to take whatever lifeforce remains in Bor'dor, and it's not Laudna standing there anymore -- it's everything she hoped she wouldn't be, hoped wouldn't resurface, but the world has broken her. She gives in to the darkness. She can't control it anymore. "A familiar purple flame runs down her arm, not seen since the journey to retrieve her soul. From the ground, the roots and fried brush that has been gathered begins to sprout vibrant green and flowers of white petals, blue roses, a beautiful circle of life surrounds the two of them as Bor'dor's skin pales and cracks. His body thins. In that moment, the apex of natural beauty rising with life, alongside the balance of death, you watch the troubled life of Bor'dor Dog'son reduce to ash and memory."

Ashton walks over, and Laudna instincually lashes out. "It's okay." "Ashton?" "It's okay. It's gonna be okay. Come on, let's go sit down." They gently lead her away.

Orym lingers by the body, reaches into his belt, and pulls out the locket he took from the dead guard by the Malleus Key. He took it as a reminder because he felt bad for them, and leaves it now with Bor'dor. "We're at war." He goes, sits in the dark, and stares at the remains of a Gau Drashari.

"Ashton -- what have I done?" "Nothing that I haven't. Nothing that... I think we're all gonna have some nightmares before this is over." "I'm weak." "No, you're just hurt. It's okay." Laudna just cries into Ashton's shoulder, and he holds her close with no hesitation.

On the body, Deni$e finds a crossbow, an envenomed dagger ("I didn't get to use it, I would have, I would've stabbed each and every one of you"), leatherworkers' tools, a ring and cloak of protection, an immovable rod, and a hat of disguise. Deni$e takes the dagger with every intent of burying it with him. There is nothing tied to the Ruby Vanguard, and everything that would've tied him to the cult was likely discarded intentionally -- implying that he knew who the Bells Hells were from the get-go.

Bor'dor's body turned to ash in the wither and bloom spell. Deni$e scoops up the ashes, digs a hole, puts them in, fills it up with dirt, and puts a rock on top.

This is the first betrayal of Prism's life. She feels bad for punching him, but she's also seeing Laudna and what she did. To Prism, when Laudna did that, it wasn't something to be ashamed of. She's angry at being hoodwinked, she wonders if the feeling of learning and growth alongside Bor'dor was fake, she feels the literal and figurative acid that Bor'dor through. She's standing in the corner with a broken fist, afraid to start a conversation, but Deni$e comes over and puts a hand on her shoulder.

Deni$e has all of Bor'dor's stuff and offers the first pick to Prism. She opts for last pick instead, and she goes to shout at his grave. "We were supposed to be friends! This was supposed to work out differently!"

Eventually, Hevestro returns, after his own walk of grief. He immediately notices the change. "It seems that these days bring quite a bit of loss in so short a time. I am sorry for what has brought you here, and what has happened since. But do not let this weigh you down -- not entirely. Carry these memories with you; they hurt, but they are a strength as well. At least, I have to believe that. You are capable, or you wouldn't have been able to save me from a fate that even my focus prevented me from seeing approach. And I have a sense... just in the trust the eidolons of this land have already placed in you, that you walk a fateful path. But you do not know me from your families, and I do not wish to pry. Let us all take a night of rest. In the morning, I will usher you to your destinations, out of gratitude for the kindness you've done me."

I don't know about you, but my favorite kind of DM monologue is when the DM is so clearly communicating their own feelings toward the party through an NPC.

Laudna is afraid -- terrified that killing Bor'dor has hurt more than just him. She fears that, as hard as the Bells Hells have tried to cut her off from Delilah, she has opened that door again. But Prism comforts her. "If you closed that door once, you can close it again... I just don't want you to feel bad because it made sense, what you were doing. At least emotionally, I understand it." "I feel like control is a fallacy. We've talked so much about it here lately. We've tried to control our concurrent destinies... I'm just confused." "Well, confusion is just knowing you don't have control... so maybe surrendering to the confusion will be some medicine for that." "You're very smart, Prism -- very capable." "Thank you. You're an incredible magic user, and I think that someday you'll be strong enough to beat this bitch (Delilah) back to where she came from."

"Anger and pity don't have to be mutually exclusive." Y'know, I am absolutely living for the way the entire cast has become so good at these one-liners.

Orym can hear most of these conversations echoing, and he's meditating on how complex and broken the centuries of history are between his being held here and all of them being there, and how complicated this conflict is, how so many people have different reasons for their choices. In the end, all he can think about is what was taken from him: the people that he holds most dear, in the name of philosophy or ideology or whatever you wanna call it. "In the last few days, I've lost my footing, and I'm struggling with it. Sitting here on the stone, I know that we're going to try to kill the people who took from me, who didn't care who died to get what they wanted. And I'll just fucking die trying if I have to."

A little ways off, there's a sketch of Bor'dor's family. Deni$e finds it, then she digs another hole next to the first one. In it, she puts the dagger and the photo, before burying it and putting another rock on top.

In the morning, Hevestro offers to take them where they need to go. Before they leave, Ashton asks to take a bit of the crystal, and Hevestro gives them -- and Prism -- permission. When they're alone, Prism tells Ashton and Dynios how she doesn't want to go back, and suggests that she and Dynios could just disappear without anyone ever knowing. "Sometimes, books don't get returned to the repository what a shame." Dynios approves, and Prism acknowledges that she's asking the wrong person -- Ashton -- on purpose. But Ashton notes that "the thing you felt last night, you will feel again, and it will not feel better. Most adventures will end that way, not the other way. You're pretty fucking good at this, and I think, maybe, if you try not as hard to be someone else... just be a criminal nerd. You are clearly good at being a criminal, and you're a nerd. You're asking me? I'd do it. I've done worse. And, yeah, I think you'd be pretty good at it." Dynios pipes up and asks where she wants to go, and Prism would go anywhere there are scripts that need decoding, knowledge that's being hoarded. "Actually, we just got back from Whitestone -- they have a massive library, and the lord of Whitestone is a dick, so if a couple books go missing..." talisien jaffe you fucking genius--

Also, there's certainly something to be said about the character development of Dynios specifically.

"You said don't run from yourself -- but right now, I think I'm running toward myself." Changing Exandria for the better, one hubristic wizard apprentice at a time.

Meanwhile, Deni$e is going to go back to Emon to find Dariax. Prism offers to scry on him. (I can't believe there was a whole-ass exchange about "messing up your slots" without a single fucking giggle--)

Orym takes out his sending stone to Dorian. "Dorian -- still alive, by the skin of our teeth. Want to talk more. You know where Dariax is?" Another d100, another failed sending.

Deni$e and Prism give their goodbyes, and both are thankful for the rest of them not lying to or betraying them.

They distribute Bor'dor's items. (Ashton wholeheartedly agrees with Deni$e leaving the dagger in the grave, which is, IIRC, a huge change from the start of C3.) Laudna takes his slingshot; Ashton takes the immovable rod; Orym takes the cloak of protection; and Prism takes the hat of disguise (which looks more like a bandana).

Hevestro goes up to a tree and teleports the group away. Deni$e goes to Westruun to find Dariax; then, Prism and the Bells Hells (after having Prism scry on the other half of Bells Hells' current location, narrowly missing the werewolf threesome) return to Jrusar. (Ashton remarks, "come on, family. Let's get the rest of the kids.")

In his final words, echoing across Issylra, Bor'dor "is at peace. I'm with my family again." He's put to his rest, here, in the mountain, away from the gods. Under the watch of the guardian spirits who first crafted this world."

[jaspersboy]

Pastor Ron Tucker took the stage one weekend in early July at Grace Church in the St. Louis suburb of Maryland Heights to deliver a sermon on Romans.  

In the first 15 minutes, Tucker railed about antifa, Black Lives Matter, critical race theory, feminism, gun laws, abortion, protesters disrupting Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh’s dinner at a D.C. steakhouse, and promoted the baseless claim that the Capitol riot was a hoax. 

“Their woke ideology is separating people into groups and taking our nation apart, and it’s being taught in our schools under the heading of critical race theory,” Tucker said. “The way you get promoted in a woke business is based on your degree of victimhood. If you’re a Black lesbian, you’re at the top of the heap. I mean, would you trust someone to fly your plane just because they’re part of a minority?”

Tucker founded Grace Church, a nondenominational congregation, in 1978. These days, it’s not unusual for him to use his time in the pulpit to unleash a torrent of right-wing grievances and stoke fears of an imminent “Marxist takeover.” But according to some of his congregants, it’s a stark departure from his old preaching style.

“It’s honestly weird because it never used to be like that,” said Emily Lynch, 33, whose family joined Grace Church when she was 5 years old. “I can remember the sermons growing up, and they never spoke about politics. It was a quote-unquote ‘feel-good’ church.” 

Noelle Fortman, 23, and her mother had similar early experiences with Grace Church, which they joined in 2010. “It was a pleasant community. It was welcoming and diverse,” she said. “The sermons were just very uplifting, and, you know, biblical.” 

Now, instead of talking about compassion and loving your neighbor, Tucker is preparing his 1,500-strong flock for a bloody “final battle” where “the bullets are real.” 

[boldlyvoid]

the guy at the rock show

she/they reader x Spencer Reid

request for @boba-king-iroh ♥︎

summary: Y/N lost their parents when they were 17, finding a new home and solace in Penelope Garcia and taking the Garcia name. They're the top forensic specialist in D.C, in a band and they drive a motorcycle... not to mention they are madly in love with the cute doctor who works with their sister.

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions, friends to lovers, idiots in love, PDA, secret relationships

word count: 5666

a/n: there will be a smutty part 2 eventually because I can't not do that

THE PLAYLIST THAT GOES WITH THEIR SETLIST IF YOU WANT TO LISTEN WHILE YOU READ

Read on Ao3 here!

Taking Garcia’s last name wasn’t something they had to think hard about, Penelope basically raised them; she was like a sister, a best friend and a mother, even a bit of a fairy godmother to Y/N.

They met when Y/N was 17, they were sitting at a support group for dead parents in D.C. Right beside the lovely, overly cheerful, always helpful, Penelope Garcia. At first, Y/N couldn’t stand her, wondering how a person like that could be running a group for mourning people, it made her sick.

It wasn’t until she heard Penelope’s story for the first time, knowing how similar it sounded to her own and how, actually, you can take your grief and turn it into something beautiful. After the meeting, they pulled Penelope aside and gave her a big hug and a thank you.

It was the start of a lovely friendship, one Y/N didn’t know they needed until they were smothered in all the love you could possibly imagine.

The age gap between them wasn’t too big, Penelope was 10 years older than them which meant she was always one step ahead of Y/N and full of advice. Be it fashion, boys, girls and everything in between. They bonded in a way that was unbreakable, they were each other's family.

Penelope even helped her get into med school before she eventually switched to forensic science. Taking on the FBI academy, unlike Penelope, and joining the bureau officially. Penelope was there for her every single step of the way, making her career possible. She loved her dearly and wanted Y/N to succeed more than anyone in the world.

Getting to introduce herself to people as Agent Y/N Garcia, not to be confused with technical analyst Garcia, was one of the best feelings in the world.

Not many people ever mistook them, however, for whatever Penelope was, Y/N was the exact opposite.

Y/N preferred all black everything, she didn’t enjoy partying or close contact or the in-your-face-ness of Penelope’s way of life, she loved her band and motorcycle and being alone. They were quote-unquote edgy, not just for effect, but because it was how they felt the most comfortable, it was who they were and they liked it that way.

They were possibly the best Forensic Specialist the FBI had, keeping her in DC for all the most important cases. Helping her avoid Penelope and the BAU team as much as possible. They were great people, she didn’t hate them at all, it was just a lot of energy that they didn’t have to give to 7 other people all day long.

Spencer was the only one she could tolerate. Rather, he was the one she wanted to spend the most time with, even more than Penelope. He understood Y/N in a way others didn’t.

He was also quiet, like them, he didn’t pick on them or call them mini Garcia, baby-baby girl, or infant as some of them started to call her more recently.

He called them Y/N, he talked to them about star trek whenever he was visiting Penny, and he respected their pronouns. Using both she and they interchangeably, when he spoke of them, unlike most people who only used she and her because it made more sense in their small brains.

However, she wasn’t the only one who got teased. Spencer did as well, almost more because he was around the BAU team constantly. She hated hearing them bully him, he didn’t even count it as bullying but it’s basically what it was sometimes.

They put him down, they didn’t clue him in on things, they called out his stims and didn’t let him finish his sentences, especially when it had to do with his hyper-fixations. He was the brightest light in the room and they just picked his brain till he wasn’t useful anymore, before trying to turn out the light. It made Y/N furious.

They got called Mr and misses genius when they were on a scene together, remembering the first time she ever had a case with the BAU which was also the first time she snapped at someone for being mean to Spencer.

Someone asked Spencer a serious question, to which he did his fucking job and answered. Giving as much detail as humanly possible, being the absolute genius he is and should be praised for, only to have Emily poke him in the cheek and say; “wow, he’s so life-like?”

“Well yeah, cause he’s a fucking human who deserves respect from the people who use his brain all day,” Y/N cursed under their breath from the crime scene, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Leaving the sweetest man on earth to find them later and give them a hug. Thanking them for all that they do, and appreciating what he has to offer. That’s when she realized she liked him, more than just the guy who sometimes sleeps on her couch because he’s friends with her sister.

It was difficult being surrounded by men unlike Spencer, specifically the older men in her field who didn’t understand anything outside of money, guns, and violence. The worst part of the job being the politics in the background; the hierarchy and ass-kissing all because she worked in the nation's capital.

They were sure it was probably better in a smaller facility, a local police station where no one knew her and they could finally have some peace and quiet.

But she’d miss Penelope, and Spencer too for that matter.

At first, they’d hide in their room when Penelope brought him over for movie nights or when he crashed on the couch after bringing her home drunk from the bar. In the early days, she worried that he was going to be her new boyfriend, taking all of Penelope’s free time and leaving Y/N with nothing.

But then he started coming over all the time just to hang out, sitting on the couch with nothing to say, being the third wheel while Y/N and Penelope spent time together. For the last 7 years.

Over that time they had many conversations alone, she learned that he was really smart, he was a lot younger than most of the team because he blew through high school by the time he was 13, and he was genuinely the sweetest man in the whole entire world.

One time, Penelope was running late when Spencer showed up at the door with chips and candy, ready to watch his weekly movie with his friend. Only she wasn’t going to make it home in time, and Y/N didn’t want him to have to go back to his apartment all alone.

“You can come in and watch it with me if you wanted to?” She offered, smiling softly. “What was it you picked for tonight?”

“It was Penelope’s night to choose, so you can pick instead if you want?” Spencer offered right back, walking in like he owned the place.

He was more confident now than he was in the beginning, but that was probably because he was 23 and she was 18.

Back then he’d barely look at her and sometimes he’d shake when they made eye contact or when she got drunk and hugged him goodbye after a long night with Penelope. He was like that with Penny in the early days of their friendship too, apparently, so she didn’t feel too bad about it.

He warmed up eventually, making her wait 7 years for him to do something about the growing feelings they both shared.

“You like Marvel movies right?” She bit the inside of her lip as she waited for his answer. Watching him walk around the kitchen for a bowl that he could put his snacks in.

“Yeah they’re great, I haven’t watched past the second Thor, I think the next one is another Captain America?” he’s all smiles as he joins her on the couch, closer than normal, as close as he’d sit with Penelope, but then again she was a cuddler and Y/N wasn’t.

Sometimes Y/N would come out of her room to find Spencer’s head on Penelope’s lap, resting on a pillow as she ran her fingers through his hair to soothe his perfect mind after a long day. A few times she’s walked in on him crying or even sound asleep in her arms. They had a friendship Y/N admired, they were each other's person.

They comforted each other in the exact way they needed it; Penelope giving him the physical touch he craved and he would often compliment her. He was always telling her she was the best and buying her gifts to show his appreciation, calling her the most beautiful and smartest person he knew. He knew that she needed to hear it, needed the reassurance that she was still a good person and he made her believe it.

It made Y/N love him more seeing how much he cared for her sister.

“The winter soldier is the best!” She gushed, sitting close so they could share the chips as she waited for the movie to load up.

He was very quiet when he watched movies, smiling and laughing at the right parts but typically he paid so much attention it was like he was a statue. Y/N spent more time glancing at him than the actual movie.

“Is there something on my face?” Spencer asked, nervous when he noticed her glance at him for the 100th time that night.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she panicked lightly, swallowing quickly before looking away.

“What?”

“I don’t know, I just think you’re fascinating,” she whispered because then she didn’t really say it, and it didn’t really count.

“Oh,” he smiled softly, leaving it at that and forcing his attention back on the movie.

After a while, Spencer started to get even closer. He put the bowl on the coffee table and sat back almost on top of her, reaching an arm behind the couch so that Y/N was right against his side. He had done it with Penelope before, confident in this little living room, almost forgetting it was Y/N beside him.

Y/N rested her hand on his knee, rubbing her thumb over his jeans in a soft little circle as she pretended to watch the movie. More concerned with Spencer’s breathing and the feeling of his hand inching towards their shoulder than anything else.

Then they heard keys at the front door. Pulling away from each other quickly to curl up on opposite sides of the couch and pretend they weren’t just cuddling.

“Hey, you still came!” Penelope cheered, a little drunk from whatever she was doing before.

“I’d never miss a night with the Garcia’s,” Spencer smiled at her, looking calm and collected as ever while Y/N turned bright pink.

“Oh, I love Bucky! Oh my god let me go change and I’ll come watch too!”

That was just the first time they ended up cuddling, certainly not the last.

—

It wasn’t often that Penelope was too busy to spend time with Y/N, rather the contrary. Sometimes Y/N had to beg her to leave her be at certain events. Like when their band was playing at any of the local bars and Penny started inviting everyone she knew to come and watch her sister play.

It was embarrassing, to say the least, but Y/N loved her support.

When Y/N peaked her head out to see the crowd before a show, normally Penelope was sitting in the front with a drink and at least 4 friends, cheering and chanting their name, ready to rock out to their covers.

Tonight she didn’t see Penelope at all, she knew she wouldn’t, Penelope was in London visiting Emily with Derek for the second time in the past year, leaving no one to come to the monthly show Y/N’s band put on, or so she thought.

Spencer came all by himself.

He was sitting in the front, at a table with a bowl of pretzels and a ginger ale, not interested in the drinking or the socializing, just there to support Y/N. It made her feel giddy, like a schoolchild seeing their crush at recess.

It was so nice of him that it gave her butterflies, and normally that didn’t happen. They could go on and play a show in front of ten thousand people and feel nothing, but the second Spencer Reid was there to cheer them on, they were a mess.

“What song are we doing first again?” Y/N asked Evie, their lead singer and best friend outside of work.

“Who are they?”

Y/N was taken aback, “What?”

“You’ve never been nervous, who came to see you?” Evie clarified her question.

“No one, for fuck sake, I thought we left all the profilers at home tonight?” she sighed, shaking the nerves out of their body as they jumped up and down lightly.

They paced back and forth for a few minutes to wear down the nerves but only managing to make herself sweat to death and discard the leather jacket she always wore on stage. She walked in a circle aimlessly, remembering the setlist in their mind and how the spotlights typically made it so they couldn’t see the crowd anyway so it’s not like she could fuck up by making eye contact with him.

And it’s not like it was the first time he had seen her play, Spencer comes every month with Penelope, he liked a lot of the music they covered from when he was an emo teen in university. They’ve bonded over it before sharing albums and records back and forth, but she was still scared shitless at the prospect of him caring about her enough to come alone.

Especially when he hated being in situations like this in the first place.

It was their turn to go on, the manager of the bar gathering them and telling them to go on and so Y/N started walking towards the stage door, only to be pulled back harshly by Evie’s cold hands.

“Don’t forget your sticks, god who do you wanna fuck so bad it makes you this stupid?” She placed the drumsticks in Y/N’s hands, “get it together.”

“Sorry, it’s the guy in the sweater vest, front row,” they whispered in response, putting their head down and heading to the stage before she could tease them about it.

“The Forensic Lyricists are here once again folks!” The Manager introduced them to the crown, “get ready for them to dig up some classics!” Always the same dumb joke before every show.

Opening with crushcrushcrush by Paramore, thank god she remembered, it was an easy song to play as they warmed up and pushed the nerves away. They could play it in their sleep, with their eyes closed, and so that's what they did.

Eyes closed, mouthing the words as the adrenaline of the night took over the anxiety and made them go insane, like most nights. They didn’t need drinks or drugs to feel hyped at most shows, all she needed was a smile from penny and a good luck text from Spencer.

Playing by memory until she felt more confident and then getting into it. “They taped over your mouth, Scribbled out the truth with their lies, your little spies…”

“Crush, crush, crush, crush crush two, three, four!!” Y/N sung backup for each chorus, finally getting into it.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again.”

They tried their hardest to push the images of that night on the couch with Spencer out of their mind as they sang along, trying to harmonize and cover the backup for Evie as best as she could.

“Let’s be more than this now!”

She always took the bridge, as the drummer and the most passionate one, it only made sense. Y/N always got the crowd on their feet, roaring along as they jumped to the beat.

“Rock and roll, baby, Don't you know that we're all alone now? I need something to sing about. Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? I need something to sing about! Rock and roll, hey! Don't you know, baby, we're all alone now? Give me something to sing about!”

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, let’s be more than, noOoo!”

She had a crush on Spencer fucking Reid and one now noticed as they tried their hardest to focus on the words when all that came to mind right now was his body heat and how good he smelled and how nice it was that he came to support them.

“Nothing compares to, a quiet evening alone! Just the one, two! of us who's counting on! That never happens, I guess I'm dreaming again, Let’s be more than this, more than thiiiiiis, oooooooh, mmmmmmhmmm,” she sang the ending of the song along with Evie, their harmony sounding more perfect than any performance before.

Critics always said the performance is better when you mean the words you’re singing. With that, they accepted their crush on Doctor Spencer Reid after 7 long years of knowing him. They pushed through nerves so that they could go and see him after and do something about it, now that Penelope wasn’t home to tease her for it.

Leading right into Dear Maria, Count Me In. Their bass player, Kat taking the lead for her favourite song. Being an all ‘girl’ punk band was her idea, and now they all enjoyed taking turns singing their favourite songs in front of mostly strangers, once a month.

Every single song made her think of Spencer in some way as she remembered the rest of the set, it had 5 songs in total and each one included at least one reference to something she knew about Spencer.

It was hard to not think about him while he stood at the edge of the stage with everyone and bopped his head along to the beat, a smile growing on his face as he also noticed the little references to them in the songs.

The Rock Show by Blink182 was going to hit a little too close to home as she sang the words all but to him, making eye contact with him as he moved to the best spot to see them play, much like Penelope would do every time.

She didn’t realize how much this song actually represented her life before tonight, starting to sing her song alone while Spencer watched. Deciding on the spot to dedicate it to him in the most fucking obvious way possible, taking her chances because he must have come for a reason.

“Hanging out behind the club on the weekends. Acting stupid, getting drunk with my best friends, I couldn't wait for the summer and the Warped Tour, I remember that it's the first time that I saw him there!”

Spencer was smiling then, noticing the lyric change as they made eye contact, nodding along as he watched. Genuinely enjoying himself and the show, it was lovely to see. She couldn’t help but smile against the mic as she sang and played. Wondering how his face will change with the next verse she watched him from the corner of her eye.

Her bandmates turning to see her as they played their guitars, nodding in agreement at the lyric change, they knew what she was up to. It wasn’t the first time they used the stage to bring someone home with them.

“He's getting kicked out of school cause he's failing. I’m kinda nervous, cause I’m sure all his friends hate me! He’s the one, he'll always be there, I took his hand and I’ll make it I swear,

“Because I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town, I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!”

Spencer’s smile was priceless, it made them even more confident to sing all the words, wanting him with zero shame, it’s not like anyone who knew him would know about this.

“When we said we were gonna move to Vegas I remember the look your mother gave us 17 without a purpose or direction We don't owe anyone a fuckin’ explanation”

“Because I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town, I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!” Making the softest eye contact with him, they moved their whole body to play to him.

“Black and white picture of him on my wall, I waited for his call, he always kept me waiting, and if I ever got another chance I'd still ask him to dance, because he kept me waiting!”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show! He said what? and I told him that I didn't know. He's so cool, gonna sneak in through his window. Everything's better when he's around. Can’t wait until my parent goes out of town,”

“I fell in love with the guy at the rock show!” She had never been this passionate while playing this song in all the years they had played it together.

Her bandmates taking the lead singing, “with the guy at the rock show!”

“I’ll never forget you,” she sang in the middle of their chants, “I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget you, I’ll never forget tonight, I’ll never forget tonight…”

She shot a wink at him before turning back in her seat to face the drum set the best way. The last two songs were Evie’s and Kat’s, she covered the backup vocals, making the occasional glance towards Spence as she thought of him.

Counting down the minutes till she could go see him.

Come a little closer by cage the elephant, an obvious title with lyrics that would clearly bring every memory of brushed hands against lower backs as they slipped past each other in crowded rooms, lingering as long as possible before they were gone again. Goodnight hugs when Penelope was already asleep and he could hold her a big longer and tighter, resting his head on her shoulder while she rubbed his back and breathed him in. And that night on the couch, not to mention all the mornings she walked in on him sleeping peacefully, brushing the hair out of his face, softly, in the hopes he didn’t wake up.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see, Come on, come on, come on, Things aren't always what they seem to be… Do you understand the things you been seein' Come on, come on, come on! Do you understand the things that you've been dreaming… Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!”

And even when he did she had a coffee ready for him when he sat up and smiled, giving them a few hours alone before Penelope would wake up. Talking all morning about star trek and dr. Who, smacking his knee as he made jokes that genuinely made them laugh while trying to keep her voice down so they didn’t wake Penelope.

Not many people made her feel like that in her life.

“Come a little closer, then you'll see! Come a little closer, then you'll see!” Staring at him, enticing him to do it the next time they had the chance.

The intro to I’d Do Anything by simple plan was one of her favourites to play, smiling wide as she began to drum as her best friends sang the words.

Waiting for the chorus to sing the words at Spencer, really sending the message, he wasn’t dumb, not in the slightest, he would get it. He had to, she had already been so obvious there was no turning back now.

“This could be the one last chance to make you understand,”

Her arms were starting to hurt as she played along with the most energy she has had in years, playing like a teenager whose parents just died and she needed to hit something, once again. It was freeing, playing with what she could only imagine was love in her chest instead of anger. It’s how she was supposed to play.

"I’d do anything Just to hold you in my arms To try to make you laugh Cuz somehow I can’t put you in the past I’d do anything Just to fall asleep with you Will you remember me? Cuz I know I won’t forget you,"

Focusing on the drumming and ignoring the lyrics as her bandmates covered the lyrics, letting her go hog fucking wild on the drum set, almost kicking the chair out from under herself as they kept going. Joining for the chorus again before beating the shit out of her drum set.

I close my eyes And all I see is you I close my eyes I try to sleep I can't forget you Na na na And I'd do anything for you Na na na Naaaaaaa

“I’d do anything!” She closed her eyes as she pushes the words past her vocal cords, again and again, passionately playing the drums as her hair flew all over the place, worried she might break the sticks as she played.

“Cause I know I won't forget yoooou!” She plays the end of the song, snapping the left drumstick in half before throwing the right one into the crowd, right into Spencer’s hand, sending him a wink before saying goodbye to the crowd.

Sweaty as hell from playing the drums, they brushed their long black hair back behind their ears and in a low ponytail so it would fit under her motorcycle helmet on the way home. Putting their leather jacket back on and heading into the main bar to find Spencer.

“Hey,” he smiled as she walked towards him, the drumstick now resting in his pocket as he approached her.

“I can’t believe you came here all by yourself?” Y/N laughed slightly before pulling him into a thank-you hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it, I’ve been coming for a year now, it’s always a great time,” his smile was perfect, his teeth were so white and straight and she wondered how they’d feel against her neck.

“It’s been that long?” She pretended that she didn’t notice, biting their lip as he ran the calculations in his mind.

He nodded with a soft, pressed-lipped smile, the Spencer classic. “Yep, it’s been exactly 14 months straight now.”

“I know you don’t like bars and loud noises and people you don’t know, or germs which makes this like a nightmare of yours I guess because of the close proximity of people and the germs being spread as everyone screams in a crowd,” she ranted before he was pulling her into another hug, “so this means a lot to me,” she finished her thought beside his ear for only him to hear.

“Anytime,” he whispered as he held her, his arm on her back and chin resting on her shoulder.

“Did you need a ride home?” She offered, thinking about how nice it would be for him to wrap his arms around their body as he sat behind her on Patsy, her motorcycle.

“Yeah, unless you wanted to go to your place and watch another movie? I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting,” he spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Yeah, I’d love that, it’s been lonely while Penny’s gone,” a smile erupting on her face as she got the reference, “come on then.”

She took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers and dragging him backstage towards her locker. She had a space to keep her things for practice and other shows she did during the week, keeping an extra helmet and jacket in the locker for nights like this, however, normally it was a cute stranger. Not the man she’s been crushing on since she was a teenager.

“Oh, you brought Patsy,” Spencer’s face went white.

“Did you not want to ride her? Come on, everyone wants to ride her at least once,” Y/N teased him as she put the helmet in his free hand.

Her bandmates staring at her with proud smiles as she took the guy from the rock show home; the one in the sweater vest from the front, the one who was the most into the whole show, they both gave Y/N a wave and a smile as they slipped out the backstage door.

They walked out to the parking lot, still hand in hand with their helmets in the other. Stopping at her dark purple Suzuki GS650 GT, it was her most prized possession because it used to belong to her parents.

She put her hair in the right spot before putting the helmet on, sitting down and starting the engine, revving it for everyone in the lot to see as Spencer put his helmet on and threw a leg over the seat, nervous as ever.

He fit behind her perfectly, just enough room on the seat for his chest to press against her back as he placed his hands gingerly on her hips. It made her laugh.

“You’re going to want to hold on better than that pretty boy,” she teased him before revving the engine once more, kicking the kickstand up and speeding out of the parking lot.

Spencer gripped her tightly as she took off down the street, taking the longest route possible to her home. She didn’t hit a single red light for at least 5 blocks, zooming through traffic as Spencer squeezed the life out of her.

He felt amazing, his hands were so big as he fully wrapped around her, reaching around completely so his right hand was on her left hip and vice versa. He was so close she could feel his heartbeat against her back.

He was nervous, he flinched every time she turned and held on even tighter somehow.

So she did another lap of the block, around the park’s bend so she could lean the bike as far as possible as Spencer’s fingers dug into her hips fiercely. Breathing deep enough that she could hear him over the engine, but he wanted her to keep going. Not ready to let go of her yet, this is the closest they had ever been to each other.

When she finally pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, they bumped over the curb and his hand grazed Y/N’s boob, he pulled back so fast it was barely there, she just shook her head and laughed. Parking the bike and putting the kickstand back down.

Spencer let out a sigh, relaxing against her as he rested his chin on her shoulder again.

“Have fun?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” he laughed, his voice deep and dry from breathing with his mouth open, it was cute.

He got off first when his legs were finally able to work again, still vibrating from the rev of the engine he walked like Ariel when she got her legs. It was priceless, no one has reacted like that after getting a ride from them, not even Penelope.

She took her helmet off while still on the bike, shaking her hair out of the ponytail as provocatively as possible before getting off. Spencer’s jaw fell open once more as he watched, breathlessly, just as she expected.

Either he liked them before and never told them, or he was going to start now.

Either way, it excited Y/N to their core, taking his hand once more and leading him inside, this time they could be as close as they wanted to and no one was going to walk in on it. She stopped at her locked apartment door, looking at Spencer as softly as possible so he’d know her feelings were real.

“I know this will cause the teasing we already get to skyrocket, so if you wanted to keep it between us, I fully understand,” she whispered.

“Is that what you want?”

He was so sweet it made her heartache, never before had anyone made her feel like this; like she wasn’t in control of her body or mind, like an override in the system her brain and heart chose Spencer and there was no stopping them.

“I just told a whole bar of people that I’m in love with the guy at the rock show before taking you home in front of everyone,” she laughed, “I don’t care if people know, I just hate when they tease us, they belittle everything we do like we’re 17 forever, it’s not fun for me.”

“I hate it too,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly once more, “I’d like to keep you to myself for a while.”

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled in, pressing her lips against his as they both tried to repress their tightlipped smiles. Finally, finally kissing after all those years staring at each other's lips while they explained something, passionately as ever with the most attentive ears.

“Exactly, me too,” she smiled wider as she pulled back from him, unlocking the front door and pulling him inside for that movie he mentioned.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 (dm me if you want me to remove you)

[notbecauseofvictories]

You know that Cupid and Psyche quote you just shared? To be eaten and to be married? What is up with that? Umm (SPOILERS ahead) if you've read The City We Became, one character thinks that exact same thought and like Harrow the Ninth, Gideon has that same thought. These characters wouldn't mind being quote unquote eaten by their love interests. And I get it and I also don't. Why is it soo horny? Since when did /that/ become an expression of desire? Is it an expression of desire?

“To be eaten and to be married to the god might not be so different.” from Till We Have Faces, by C.S. Lewis

....I mean, there’s literal vorarephillia, but I don’t think that’s what C.S. Lewis was gesturing towards and definitely not what I mean when I throw around that quote. 

In fairness to Clive and I, hunger is a very old and broadly common expression of desire. Desire-as-hunger shows up in poetry from Ancient Egypt and in Emily Dickinson; Plato doesn’t distinguish between the two, saying that all appetites came from the epithumetikon. Desire-as-hunger is used to mock in Catullus 21, demonstrate passion unfulfilled in Swinburne, and Dante’s Inferno tortures the lustful and the gluttonous next to one another, since they are victims of the same urge. Whole theses have been written about food and hunger as literary shorthand for the erotic; hunting down every novel, poem, and song that uses hunger to talk about desire would be an insurmountable task. (Just recently Natalie Diaz crossed my dash: “I confuse instinct for desire---isn’t bite also touch?”). According to legend, desire even served as inspiration for the tortellini and the champagne coupe, as though to turn to the otherwise untouchable object of desire into something that can literally can be consumed. 

(Even Clive himself recognized the parallel, arguing that human cravings like hunger, thirst, and sexual desire seem satiable, why not longing for God?)

However, the specific longing to be consumed---as opposed to general hunger-as-desire---is rarer. More poetic. Closer to what St. Teresa of Avila experienced, with the “pain and glory joined together” of her visions, or what John Donne meant when he begged the three-person’d God to o'erthrow him. What Nietzsche envisioned about artistic sublimation into the Ur-Eine; what Fleabag gestured to when she wanted Hot Priest to tell her how to live and dress and what to like. Hozier, singing about “deathless death” and the power of open flames, his raw and bloody heart at the feet of his angel of the codeine scene.

It’s less literal hunger and more a longing to be overwhelmed and subsumed, consumed---emotionally, spiritually and aesthetically---by the object of your devotion. It gets elided into and twisted up with hunger for the same reason that all other desires do: to call a longing hunger expresses just how immediate and visceral your wanting is.

I don’t think it’s solely or natively Catholic, that’s just the context I’ve encountered it most. And in my experience, Catholicism offers a lot to work with---our primary rite is consumption of a god, in a ceremony where that god is simultaneously ghost, bread, life, water, father, king, unknowable mystery, and bridegroom whose lust "many waters cannot quench." It’s dizzying, the number of longings tangled together in that concept of god. The relationship between gets even weirder you add in early Christianity’s flirtation with Neoplatonism and the whole ecstatic Christian tradition---Teresa, and Hildegard and Catherine of Siena and Bernard of Clairvaux and more adherents to the medieval cult of Mary than you could count, all trying to shed their earthly sins and unite with the divine.  It’s a long tradition of mortification, self-abnegation and transcendence---the struggle to crawl out of your body into something else, and yet the general inability to express that longing outside of our native tongues of hunger, thirst, and desire.

(Like I said, I don’t think longing to be consumed and subsumed is a uniquely Catholic phenomenon, but it might explain why so many of us are Like This.)

Anyway, the result of all this is a literary and philosophical tradition which uses hunger to talk about sex, and sex to talk about god, and the glad oblivion of surrender to talk about love. There’s also a lot of power dynamics involved, so yes, everyone is very horny about all of it.

I’ll end with this: 

in the 80s, South African philosopher Marthinus Versfeld wrote a cookbook. It has no recipes. Instead, it is a meditation on food---and in one particular chapter, the divinity of eating. (It’s not so far from the burnt offering to the hearth, after all.) Versfeld suggests that eating is another way of knowing: when we turn raw matter into food we give it definition and endow it with meaning, make it a sacrifice or a meal and therefore part of our explicable world. Then we take that piece of the world into ourselves, and are united with it.

By that definition, the desire to be eaten is not just longing to be consumed, but also the longing to be named and known, to join with the beloved in their world. And in that sense, it might not be so different from marriage after all.

[elizabethecholls-blog]

Caged || au

BINGO SPOT  → Action, Horror IN COLLABERATION WITH → Miki WORD COUNT →  2,329 MENTIONS →  Emily Echolls SUMMARY  → Sisters Emily and Elizabeth travel to Mexico for a vacation filled with sun, fun and adventure. Elizabeth needs some extra persuasion when Emily suggests that they go diving in shark-infested waters. Safe in their protective cage, the thrill-seeking siblings come face to face with a group of majestic great whites. Their worst fears soon become a reality when the cage breaks away from their boat, sending them plummeting to the ocean floor with a dwindling supply of oxygen. TRIGGER WARNINGS  → Character Death  

They were dancing. They were in Mexico and they were dancing. With two brothers, they spent the night dancing and drinking tequila and joking about what an asshole Elizabeth’s ex-fiance was for leaving her at the altar while Elizabeth tried not to actually fall into the pit of self loathing she’d been in before Emily suggested they enjoy the already paid for honeymoon that their father had arranged for her. The next morning was brutal. Their hangovers fierce, Elizabeth remembered saying with a slight whine to her tone that they should stay in bed for the day. But then they were getting breakfast. Delicious huevos rancheros and hot cups of atole that made her never want to leave. A beautiful breakfast, she remembered, with the beautiful set of brothers they’d met the night before. They joked they were twins too, but in reality, despite their eerily similar features, five years separated the two men in age. Elizabeth couldn’t imagine being so much older than Emily.

The morning was cool, but the temperature on the beach rose in minutes as the day started slipping by. By noon, they were back in their cottage at the very edge of the beach, staring out past sand dunes and into the deep, dark blue.

“Let’s go diving,” Emily had suggested.

Elizabeth had never been much of a risk taker and Emily knew that going into the recommendation. She’d been on track to marry the boring, safe guy and have a boring, safe life while nestled snugly by a boring, safe job that would make her enough money to start a boring, safe family. But cage diving sounded like the exhilarating pick-me-up that Emily assumed her twin needed. It’d been a chore to get her to so much as smile without loading her with liquor, but Emily understood. So much so that she’d broken her would-be-brother-in-law’s nose before they ever departed for their trip.

“We’re not certified. No one’s going to let us dive in the Caribbean Sea without the proper training. That’s a total lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“You’re certified.”

“I took two diving classes when we were like...fourteen. I’m not certified.”

“Listen--those guys were telling me about it this morning.” Emily tried again. “It’s totally safe and they know the guy who own the diving boat, so it’d only be like...one hundred dollars for both of us.” She paused. “That older one, Diego--he told me there’s twenty-five foot great white sharks and they swim right up to the cage. How crazy, right? It’s like being at the zoo, only underwater.”

“It sounds pretty dangerous, still. And anyone willing to take divers without certification cards is probably going to be sketchy.”

“Think about it, Liz...What are we going to do--sit at the pool all day? It’s only like, five minutes and then we’re pulled up. But it’ll be awesome. You said you needed to do more exciting shit, right?”

Elizabeth pursed her lips. She hadn’t said she needed to do more exciting things, she said she needed to be less boring. That’s what Caleb said over text (the son of a bitch) after he’d left her high and dry in front of all their family and friends and in a nine thousand dollar dress. That he’d just gotten...bored.

She thought, with finality and before she could change her mind, that cage diving was the opposite of boring.

“Fine.”

They were on the docks the next morning, waiting for Diego and Oscar. Elizabeth remembered the dull throb of her nerves that wracked through her entire body. Fear paralyzed her from head to toe, but she tried not to let it show. She tuned out Emily as her sister went on about how exciting the experience was going to be and how amazing it probably looked underwater. Elizabeth commented she couldn’t believe Emily had talked her into this again. Emily quipped she was only there to see the boys just as they approached. A small boat took them to one that wasn’t much bigger, it’s paint faded by time and the diving cage swinging menacingly from the end of the boat. They met the Captain of the boat. They, as told to by the guys, lied about their certifications, and then they were welcomed aboard. They went out, further and further into the ocean, until the Captain--Morris or whatever his name was--decided they’d come to their spot. Buckets of chum were dumped into the water by Oscar and after Elizabeth’s nervous comment about how she thought chumming the water was illegal, he quipped that maybe he should try calling the sharks instead. Oh, shark! Mr. Shark? ¿Estás ahí?

Ten minutes later, Diego elbowed Emily lightly, gesturing into the water, where an enormous shark was circling the boat. That’s insane, Elizabeth commented. It’s got to be twenty feet long. To which Morris’ response had been we’ve seen them as big as twenty-eight.

Diego and Oscar went first. The cage lowered with dangerously creaking noises into the water so that only the top opening of the cage was visible. Adjusting their tanks and double checking their oxygen (despite the fact that their trip underwater would be brief), they slipped in through the opening of the cage and were lowered further. Five meters down, Morris said. Five meters couldn’t be so terrifying.

When the guys were brought back up, they pulled their oxygen masks from their face with huge grins, laughing and jesting about the crazy shit they’d seen below. And then it was their turn. Suited up in wetsuits and equipped with their tanks on their backs, Morris starting firing away instructions at them and Elizabeth nodded along with the things she already knew from the couple of diving classes she’d taken years ago and Emily seemed to not be paying attention at all, her gaze flickering back to the ocean every couple of seconds.

That’s your air. Check it--You should have 200 bar. When it gets to 100 bar, you need to let me know. I’m going to bring you up when you’re at 50 bar. 50 is the orange, yeah? You’re only going to be five meters down, so it’s unlikely you’ll feel any discomfort in your ears, but if you do you need to equalize. Just tilt your head back and swallow. Got it? Remember...The faster you breathe, the faster you use up your air. So fucking relax. Tranquilo, okay?

Oscar spoke up next, dropping a comforting hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Trust me...Once you’re down there, you’re not going to want to come back up.”

Diego nodded. “It’s great. You’re gonna love it down there.”

Elizabeth murmured something about being scared--something she didn’t quite remember, and Morris spoke again.

“It’s toally safe, but be careful. Sharks don’t hear so well up here, you know? Underwater, though...You’re in his world. He can hear your heartbeat from five miles away. Sense if you’re scared or weak and track you down.”

Okay, asshole. Elizabeth recalled Emily starting with a snort. Are you trying to freak her out more?

“Don’t listen to that pendejo,” Oscar scoffed, offering the girls a reassuring grin. “You’re going to love it, for real.”

Right before they were about to drop into the cage, an idea struck Elizabeth and she turned back to Oscar, flashing him a wry grin. Can I borrow your camera? She asked, remembering seeing him with an underwater camera when they were on the boat ride over to the quote unquote bigger boat.

Si, He’d told her, handing the device over. He paused to catch both of her hands within his, eyeing her with a mischievous glint in his eye. If you drop it, you gotta go down and get it.

And then she was in the cage with Emily at her side, submerged in water that she was sure was much colder than it felt, thanks to the warmth of their wetsuits. Their comm lines buzzed on, they felt a slight lurch, and then they were descending. Slowly, slowly, until they stopped. Elizabeth looked at the depth gauge on the side of the cage. Five meters down.

The beauty around them was incredible. So many fish in such clear, clean water. No sign of sharks, however.

They just have to chum the water again, Emily said over the static crackle of their communication lines. As if she’d been reading Elizabeth’s mind.

A few seconds later, the water filled with crimson and shredded fish heads and the kind of filth that Elizabeth felt like she could smell, despite her inability to use that certain sense through her mask.

And then she saw it.

“That is the biggest shark I’ve ever seen in my life, oh my god.”

“It’s crazy huge,” Emily agreed. Probably twenty five feet or so. An honest to god monster, she thought.

They watched in amazement as another joined, circling the cage and the water around it for the chum the guys had dumped around them. And another.

Excited to catch a picture, Elizabeth fumbled with the camera to snap a few shots of the beasts around them. When she turned the camera to take a picture of her and Emily, however, the device slipped from her grip and floated downwards. Shit, she muttered. The guys are going to be so mad.

Emily’s laugh was cut off by a creaking sound that they heard even underwater and a slight lurch of the cage.

“Uh, guys?” Elizabeth started into her mouth piece, her tone strained with fright.

Are you girls okay?

“No, we’d like to come up now.”

“Are you kidding?” Emily asked.

“I think the cage moved.”

It’s just the winch mechanism, Morris said. It slipped a little. It’s fine.

“I still think I’d like to come up, please.” Elizabeth wouldn’t accept any more protests from her sister, listening to her dejected murmur of at least we got to see some sharks.

Alright, girls. We’re bringing you up now.

The winch starting winding and they slowly moved upwards.

Four meters. Three meters. Two meters. Elizabeth could see the surface clearly now. One meter…

And then they dropped.

When Elizabeth came to again, Emily was already awake, breathing heavily next to her. She tried to move, but a sharp pain rocketed up her leg. She was pinned against rock, the cage pressing her leg into the stone. Still, she reached out for her sister, trying to talk as calmly as she could over the comm line.

“Em, you gotta relax.” As she spoke, however, her heart seized. The depth gauge reading her a terrible number. Forty seven meters down. “The more you panic, the faster you’re going to use up your air. Relax, please.”

They needed a plan. The crackle of static and unintelligible words from above meant they were just outside of the communication line’s reach. Which meant that if they could unpin her, she could slip through the gap in the bars the fall had caused and swim up just enough to radio up to Morris and the guys on the boat above.

What about the sharks? Emily asked as they worked to free her leg. Can’t they sense us down here? Isn’t that what Morris said?

Elizabeth didn’t respond. She was absolutely right and the lack of sea creatures they’d seen this far down was almost earier than being face to face with one of the Great Whites they’d seen from the cage earlier.

It took them some time, but they managed to unpin Elizabeth and as soon and she was able to slip out between the bars, she swam upwards slowly, trying to keep an eye on her surroundings as she did so. When she hit forty meters, she tried the comm line again.

“Hello?”

Elizabeth? I read you loud and clear, Elizabeth. Are you both okay?

“Okay, I guess.”

Good. How much air do you have?

“I’m at 55 bar.”

And what does your depth gauge say?

“The gauge is at forty seven meters. I had to leave the cage to talk to you. I’m at forty meters.”

Okay, get back to the cage immediately, okay? It’s the only place that’s safe from the sharks. Do you understand? Oscar is coming down to attach a spare winch to the cage and we’ll pull you up.

“Okay.”

And Elizabeth? Remember...No matter what you do, you and Emily can’t race to the surface or you’ll get the bends.

“I’m going back now. Just promise you’ll come.”

I promise. Just go back to the cage. Conserve your air.

When Elizabeth made it back down the the cage, Emily was curled up in the corner closest to the rock she’d been pinned against before, looking very much like she’d start rocking if the gentle movements of the ocean hadn’t already started moving her.

I made contact, Elizabeth relayed and Emily looked more excited than she ever had in her entire life. We just have to stay down here and conserve our air. They’re coming to get us. They’re coming, Em.

And conserve their air they tried, taking slow, deep breaths and holding the silence that hung over them. Until Elizabeth spoke, looking up to watch as she thought someone in scuba gear was descending.

Thanks for coming with me, Emmy. This has been the best trip, you know?

Apart from this? Emily joked weakly.

Yeah, apart from this. I love you, Em.

I love you too.

Elizabeth didn’t see Oscar clasp the backup winch to the cage, but she felt them start climbing. Hopefully, she passed her sister a smile.

Forty meters. Thirty. Twenty.

They'd never make it to the surface.

News reports would tell of the Echolls twins, lost in an unfortunate diving accident on a boat that wasn't regulated in the slightest. Elizabeth, who died on impact when their cage hit the sea floor and Emily, who survived the fall but went practically brain dead due to the water pressure around her. Alive, but not all there until her tank ran out of air.