#she typically is in a SAFER part of the city most of the time

[greedbent]

@howthesleeplesswander || surprise starter for human!Spring! 〔´∇｀〕

“Didn't I tell you to be more careful?”

And if Kaz had startled the poor girl by his coming up behind her with no word of warning or semblance of a greeting before delivering harsh judgment . . . Good. He slid in easily at her side, matched her pace in a heartbeat, and kept on walking with the nonchalance of this being entirely planned between the two of them. The hour was late, but the streets remained—as ever—loud and bustling with the night life of the Barrel: distant clattering of coin in the gambling houses, cacophonous whooping and hollering of tourists hoping for a lucky break after hours of emptying their pockets (too inebriated now to care about their losses), an entire collection of drunkards wandering the dimly lit paths (with a few simply tucked away in corners quite possibly whimpering into their knees over their life choices).

Simply put: Not a place where this particular woman should be. Looking like she did. Young. Fair. Pretty. Wide-eyed. Innocent. Gullible. So out of place Kaz almost wondered if she had put effort into it, as if she'd found a manual on all the ways to appear the easiest target and followed it to the letter.

She might as well just be wearing a sign.

Even if Spring had flinched and briefly stumbled over herself, Kaz continued with nothing more than a pointed look back at her: Keep up. Don't draw more attention. As his own gaze kept a vigilant watch over their surroundings, he pinpointed any set of eyes turned their way. Her way, specifically. And the less than respectful whistling from a small group of the aforementioned drunkards (the ones who were high off the intoxication rather than low and miserable) as they watched Spring pass was what brought Kaz closer to her side.

“You shouldn't come here alone,” he reiterated, choosing at that moment not to announce that he'd already . . . persuaded a few pickpockets off her tail mere minutes ago. “Especially at this hour.” Kaz pursed his lips, made a quick move to steer Spring down a quieter street. “What the hell are you doing? No one has a dying need for flowers so urgent you'd have to make a delivery in the middle of the night. Or have you just had a spiritual calling to a new profession?”

“Spiritual” was not the right description for the “profession” implied here.

[softlyapocalytpic]

Fallout 4 Companion Backstory Headcanons

A list of headcanons just for context of my writing later on, and cuz it’s fun to share! This won’t be exhaustive by any means, but more just a fun something with some of my thoughts ✨. I’ll do the other games some other time after thinking on them, but mostly my thoughts are about Fallout 2 which no one ever talks about lmao

Preston

Somewhere between 24 - 27. He feels young still, but not young enough to FEEL young… y’know what I mean.

Can’t explain it, but for years he’s always lived by train tracks in my mind. Walking down them with a radio in a rucksack on his shoulder or something like that.

Grew up (at least until he was seventeen) with his Mom & Dad. Quiet life by a forest. (I’m just imagining Oberland Station aren’t I lmao). They die either when he’s around 13, 17, or shortly after he joins up with the Minutemen. Raiders. Whatever settlement/farm he grew up in is gone now in part because of death, and the other reason is people moving on to somewhere safer.

I kept trying to make him the eldest brother, but honestly I think he might just be an only child?? Definitely big brother’d the younger kids in the settlement, but had an older kid or family member who he looked up to at least for a little while.

I can just imagine that older sibling person becoming a Minuteman and Preston hears back from them sporadically in his childhood, or a squad coming through when he’s somewhere between 7 - 10 years old and having that typical hero worship moment when he looks up at them with those big ol’ eyes and gets his hat from them. Made up his mind then and there to join one day.

While his education wasn’t the most robust in the world, I think he was always looking out for brochures, books, pamphlets, anything with a little bit of history in it. He got most of it cheap because it was junk that wasn’t going to get sold otherwise, and he keeps all these different papers/clippings in old banged up cookie tin that takes with him everywhere. Lost it in Quincy, but eventually gets it back when the Minutemen reclaim it from the Gunners.

Piper

Not any older than 25, but she feels more like a 23 or 24 to me. Let’s go with 24. Feels like that if she lived in modern NYC she’d fit right in with the hustle culture and rooftop bars where you can see all the lights of the city.

She grew up on the Northern outskirts of the Commonwealth closer (but not right next) to a huge forest up there.

Her settlement had rickety ass walls that technically had walkways to patrol the entire perimeter, but like… holes everywhere. Animals get into all the time as well as attacks just generally messing it up.

She’d go on the walkways sometimes and stare off towards the horizon thinking about making it big and living in ✨Diamond City✨. It was always her dream to live there.

Mom died shortly after she gave birth to Nat, but her dad never made her feel his grief about it. Definitely got this mentality of putting on airs to seem more put together than you are from him, which she now does for Nat. Or tries to anyhow

Moved to Diamond at least five years ago. I could see the argument for like 2 or 3, but I like the idea of her coming to Diamond City as a very young adult after saving up a lot of caps to move with Nat.

Can be classified as a bisexual disaster, but I like to imagine her with a heavy preference towards women and femmes. I just want some sapphics alright.

I don’t remember her attitude on the Silver Shroud at the moment, but fuck if she seems like she ADORED the Mistress of Mystery and desperately want her to find out about the whole academy and everything. It sounds so up her alley!!!

Danse

Idk if it’s contentious or not, but Cutler was a real living person that Danse knew. Broadly speaking none of his memories are false because broadly speaking he lived them!!! Like, everything before living in Rivet City is implanted, but I love Danse the scrappy youngin with little meat on his bones alongside Cutler, and the two them joining the BoS together

But you may say, Astra! Synths body weight doesn’t change and they don’t age. I call bullshit!!! I tried to play in the framework as much as possible but it doesn’t make any sense to me that they wouldn’t age/change form & weight at least a little!!! Synths… aren’t machines. They’re fleshy computers with an extra piece installed to interface with them. If they eat a stupid amount of fancy lad snack cakes, or go through intense physical training, their body will change! Okay rant over.

Also, I could see why people might want him to have more false memories considering that him questioning his identity and the entire basis of it is… a pretty big deal to his character, but with the story he tells… why make that up? I don’t think he’s an Institute plant, and why would the RR do that to him? It doesn’t make sense. And like the idea that what he’s been through is real even if he doesn’t realize it for a while. He’s a real person with a real life- it just started a little differently.

I can’t decide on him being formerly a courser or not… I think I’ll go with no, but maybe he was considered for it. I think it’d be too much like Harkness if he was, but regardless two synths… right under Zimmerman’s nose. Yikes.

I think he was a fresh recruit during the time of the LW, and at least for my story he will be. Doesn’t think about the LW too much except when he sees the propaganda posters everywhere. Doesn’t get the hero worship everyone else has.

As for his physical age, I think most people would clock him at very late twenties or early thirties. (I think other Danse’s could be a little older, but for my purposes I like him hear.) He doesn’t know how old he is actually but has a round-a-bout idea of what he thinks he is. For BoS documentation reasons they list him as 29, but he feels older than that.

I like to imagine Danse looking up to Harkness a little bit when he was younger, modeling after him in some fashions.

Deacon

He’s somewhere in his mid to late 40’s, but at this point he doesn’t even know how old he actually is, though he has a good idea of the ballpark.

He did actually grow up at University Point, or at least near it, and he spent ages combing through the library and all the rotten wood so he could learn about the world. Was a real nerdy kid.

He grew up eating Mirelurk pretty regularly as a consequence of living near a nest of them. They would have to regularly hunt there in order to keep everyone safe, which meant getting creative with it!

After what Kellogg did to UP there’s almost no one left who can remember who he was before the Railroad. There might be some people who moved away before it was razed to the ground, or who might have gotten away with just their life, but Deacon hasn’t seen or met them around the wastes, so he’s them as dead.

This is kind of to my point with him: Deacon is liar, but he doesn’t intentionally lie about the big stuff. If any of this isn’t true it’s because he’s buried it deep in himself, or lord so many times, and so much time has passed that he’s reforged new details.

Yes, he’s never been to Greenland or been all the way over to the Mojave, but he had traveled a lot and heard countless stories! Always an element of truth to what he’s saying (but sometimes it takes a journey to get there).

Ah, and in case it’s not clear, Johnny D & Deacon are the same person! Deacon started as a Runner and then took the entire weight of the world on his shoulders, but he does genuinely kind’ve see Johnny D and those early versions of himself as a separate entity. He was different back then, and while he knows it was him it’s hard to internalize that it’s all the same story.

I’ve struggled a lot with my iteration of who I think Deacon is and what his backstory is! There’s a lot of different cool takes on his character, but I found that this is the iteration that feels most true to him for me. I love different versions of him! But this is my him.

MacCready

Same Lucy from his childhood. I know it’s not technically canon, but I think it’s better if they’re one and the same.

His parents are absolute no bodies. People who are either dead or ad good as dead. Never meets them again nor does he want to, but he did runaway to get away from them when he was six or five years old.

Caravan so a dying child on the ground and dropped him off at Little Lamplight. Would’ve died of dehydration if they hadn’t found him.

LW was his hero growing up and they were actually really close! As a byproduct of that he got to know some of the people around her, mainly Butch & Charon.

The BoS, a couple years after he left, cleared out Little Lamplight and took in most of them to become apart of the army. It was pretty brutal. There’s a lot of reasons he’s not a fan of them, but this ranks pretty high up there.

I think by the time we see him in Goodneighbor he’s been in the Commonwealth for at least a year if not a little more, and he’s been out of work for three of those months. Dropped off when he figured out they did shit like what they did to Quincy.

I forgot who, but someone said something about there being a bunch of different bounties on Deacon’s head and MacCready being the only one to realize it’s all the same guy. I feeeeeel like that’s probably true, but I also like the idea that they’ve run into each other a lot for a variety of reasons, and now Mac has started to put together an idea of how to spot him. Mac’s seen him in the Capitol Wasteland and all over the Commonwealth. Mac thinks he’s annoying and creepy, but the rapport (especially as time goes on) only gets better generally speaking.

Like I said this list isn’t exhaustive, and I might even add onto it with time, but it felt like something fun to publish while I work on other stuff! I don’t really feel as tho any of these are particularly groundbreaking or super original, but I think it’s usually about the execution than just the idea of what it could be.

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: The Westley Music Class Kids (Part 1)

Originally, I wanted to cover these characters one-by-one, however, I ended up running into a similar problem that I did when covering the Gangreen Gang as well as Rigby and Mordicai: It's really hard to talk about one without referring back to them as a group. I actually ran out of space writing this, so this post with cover about half of them and I'll have to talk about the rest later on.

Following Sunny's footsteps, rather than take up arms as soldiers, the band focuses on raising morale through their music. As they stay pretty busy and their families would also be greatly concerned if they travelled too far from home for too long, they don't leave the City area or split apart very often. In general, they are a strong, unified team.

Whenever the group does need to travel, finding the means of doing so typically lands on Eddie because of his family's wealth and connections. In fact, the Lawrences are one of the biggest backers for the Fusion Fighter radio network, inspired by their son and his friends to do their part in the war effort. (Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence are also relieved that this is one of the safer roles they could play if they have to get involved, and are always willing to pay for extra security to ensure their son's safety.)

Despite not being combatants, that isn't to say the group is completely defenseless either. Wherever they go, they are usually well-protected. A couple of them have also picked up a few means of self-defense since the war started. For example, Tamika usually keeps a small pistol or some kind of throwable weapon on-hand, matching any easily accessible weaponry for kids such as certain types of 2x4 technology, while Philly Phil is familiar with various pieces of tech to help keep track of roaming bands of fusion monsters. Even if they may not always follow safety protocols 100% of the time, they are aware of what they need to do when danger appears.

Out of all of them, Madison has the hardest time adjusting to life during the war. While she can be ditzy and her happy-go-lucky, head-in-the-clouds personality allows her to shake off most of the bad things that fall in her path, the everyday monster attacks do eventually wear her down. She still tries to stay upbeat, but she just can't escape into her own head as she could in other, much shorter-term situations. As such, she can find herself needing support as much as she is willing to give her support to others.

Madison is very familiar with imaginary friends, both from creating a few of her own when she was younger and from helping them when she can. Because of her bubbly, highly imaginative nature, she often connects with them very easily.

She is also the most empathetic when it comes to fusions of imaginary friends. Even if the news of how their imaginary energy affects their personalities to the point of breaking some of Fuse's influence over them isn't widely known, she already has an instinctual hunch that there's more to them than simply being evil copies. She willing to give fusions as a whole more of a chance as a result, sadly, whether or not those chances are deserved.

Kim places the most emphasis on reputation out of the group. During the war, her interest in fashion and trends has extended to a wider knowledge of the Fusion Fighters--both as a military force and the individuals within it. This is because, since fusion fighters have taken the spotlight, she knows of many in the same way she'd pay attention to the models and celebrities featured in her magazines. It gives her a wider understanding of what's going on in the world and hot to conduct herself in hot zones, even if she occasionally can get star-struck by certain heroes like Ben or Rex.

Her focus as a general percussionist also makes her the most versatile of the band kids. Even at times when Kim can't easily get her hands on an instrument, she can improvise well and share that sense of rhythm with other people. Other kids, particularly little ones, really enjoy these sessions.

Sunny has picked up on this as well, and so he'll work with Kim on developing pieces that utilize more body percussion. At first, it really made her feel underutilized as a musician since she does know how to play so many instruments. She had to see first-hand the effect this had: More people not only listened in, but actively participated in their music as it could be easily replicated by anyone, anywhere with limited resources. (For an irl example of this, think of how many more people know the rhythm and words to "We Will Rock You" over "We are the Champions" even though they're almost always played together. The former has a simpler beat to follow that encourages its audience to join in.) Since then, Kim enjoys taking the lead on these songs.

Lil'D is similar to Kim in this way, except it's almost impossible to separate him from the drums. Part of this is because it's the instrument he specializes in using, even though he can play other instruments as well; however, it also feels more integral to who he is as a musician. We see this importance in episodes like "The Devil and Lil'D," in which his drumsticks are tied to his identity. While not as utilized, an alternative he's explored as a result is street percussion. It's much rarer for the band to play this type of music, but has picked up a bit in places within the City.

Like in the show, Lil'D can sometimes let the fame go to his head. He occasionally forgets the true reason why music is important in times of crisis, or even where he is when crisis strikes--ignoring clear threats, such as fusion monsters in the area, when he's caught in his own head. When this happens, Sunny and his friends have to bring him back down to Earth. The gravity of the war has allowed him to mature a bit more in this regard, but he's still a kid and has a long way to go.

Despite this, his strong sense of confidence can also allow him to respond quicker to threats than the others as well. If push comes to shove and he and his friends are caught in a potentially dangerous situation with no one around to help, while he may not always make the right moves, his ability to react fast can protect them.

Being the most studious of the group, Kam is the most knowledgeable of what goes on during the war. With many schools shut down and people having to explore different ways of continuing their education from home or in new groups, the situation is extremely frustrating for him. You can bet he has countless apps and utilizes as many public resources as possible to continue learning on his own. More to the point though, paying more attention to the war effort itself as a result of these diverged studies has led to him experiencing a lot more fear than his bandmates. He can't shut his brain off, so worrying over the prolonged fighting can get to him. Thankfully, he has the perfect outlet for this by being in music.

Since the piano and keyboard aren't always available, like some of the other members of the Wesley Music class, he's had to find a more portable means of playing his preferred instruments. He's already had experience with the accordion and practices more with the keyguitar as a nice, added alternative.

Even with as much evidence as there is for magic and imaginary energy in FusionFall's world, just like in the Class of 3000 Christmas special, Kam doesn't put much stock into those things. As such, it takes a long time for him to accept anything of their nature and he prefers to listen to scientists/leaders that also lean away from those areas, like Princess Bubblegum.

[placentaeater999]

More Ramblings!

I forgot to tell you, my friends, that this May 10th or 11th marked 10 (ten) whole years since I first came out as a trans man!

(Im open to asks/questions/new friends, i believe education is an important part of the path to acceptance)

TL;DR: trans kids become trans adults, trans kids you absolutely fucking belong on this planet and you are loved and cherished, if not by your own family then by me bc im adopting you now as your older brother. My experience as a trans man is below the cut

I came out at the age of 11, back in early 2014, just before trans ppl and bathrooms had really started to catch the eye of the general public.

My dad was quick to support my medical transition, and while my ma took a moment, she got there. My dad ended up only really supporting me if i matched his machismo ideals, but this has gotten a lot better over the years.

I have been extremely INCREDIBLY lucky to be able to come out and successfully begin my transition at such a young age and every day im grateful for that. That being said, I lost a lot of family because of it. I lost close and important friendships because of it. I felt shame for such a long ass time because of it. I was bullied by students, parents, and teachers. I've been assaulted, Ive faced medical discrimination numerous times, I was the first trans patient at this psych ward i went to and got weird treatment. I have struggled a lot with feeling like i belong in this world. And now at the age of 21 I still do sometimes.

But

With all the bad things that've happened.

The family that stayed ive grown closer with. The new friends i FINALLY made in college are so incredibly supportive and I'm lucky that most of them are also trans or queer in some way (most of my friends are long distance but idc theyre my best friends). I wouldnt trade them for the world. I I havent had a typical teen experience but I've gotten to lead important projects for the safety of trans students at my high school, I've been a part of my university's qsa, I've gotten to serve on a panel for GLSEN Los Angeles where I worked with city officials on how to make la safer for trans/nb people. I've had my art about being trans get into galleries and I've won a couple awards for it. I get to attend other queer events near me and sell my art there and meet other queer folks in a town that's not a super safe place to be queer in.

I've gotten to see people grow and change their opinions on trans ppl bc now they know one and understand the concept better. Ive gotten the absolutely honor of people telling me that because I'm so open about myself that they began to feel comfortable exploring more about thelmselves.

I've lived more in these past 10 years than a lot of people will in 20. And as hard as its been I'm so FUCKING proud of how far I've come and I can't wait for the next 10.

It's not always glamorous, it's fucking hard as hell. For a long while I'd trade being a trans man for being a cis woman in a heartbeat, but now I wouldn't trade being trans for the world.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Omy God, noooo, them holding onto the hats - BOTH their hats!! - is gonna make me cry! And it reminding Lady Sneasler of her nest, probably complete with Smells Of Ingo, which is familiar and comforting to her, and Smells Of Emmet, which is familiar and comforting to Ingo. It helps that like, to humans smell is typically the sense that lingers the longest and deepest in memories, and also that as Clamberclaw Lady Sneasler's sense of smell is amplifies Ingo's. So being in a soft nest with smells associated with safety, in an area that feels safe to Ingo, and having already ran themselves ragged, is a very good recipe. They just went from 100 in terms of bad stimulation and feeling like they're under attack, to a flat 0. Finally, what they need, finally a place to hide.

And then Emmet comes! And he is Very confused!! But again, this is someone who reads as a complete non-threat to them. Even though Emmet is expecting a fight and is all tensed and poised to throw out his very powerful pokemon to subdue this creature, they just... have exactly zero intention of doing anything violent towards him. If it were literally anyone else they might feel kind of cornered, even with the frenzy having died down some from exhaustion, but Emmet? They're more likely to drag him into the nest than scare him off the train.

Meanwhile, Emmet is so unprepared for literally all of this lol. Poor guy, he has no idea what to expect, but I love that he's already coming up with various strategies to account for various responses. Presumably the train has been stopped as soon as people started panicking, but I winced at the thought of something being so freaked out they tried to go out the front of the car.

Although, if the subway car was dark, did they like kill the lights? Or is this actually a battle car that wasn't being used so the lights were off or on low? Not great for seeing if he needed to battle them, but better for making them feel safer and calming them down. Like hooding a bird lol or letting a cat hide under the bed. The hard part isn't going to be calming them down, it's going to be coaxing them to come out and leave!

re: lights, i think what most likely happened is one of their moves went wide and broke something and took out the lights, probably just to the one front cabin? in my head this scene has to be mostly dark (and pls kill those bright lights for their sanity...) but this is the only way i think that would work

anyway they just want to sleep forever now thanks. they feel like shit mentally and physically, their brain still feels vaguely on fire from the frenzy, but it's soft and sheltered and there's a Good Person that they trust (that ingo trusts) more than anything to not let anything else bad happen to them. so. time to rest. emmet's still bracing to get ambushed, but then he gets a better look at them with the dim light filtering in from the last car, beaten and bruised with fur matted by sweat and blood, pinprick pupils and heaving breaths, and realizes this isn't some aggressive predator, this is something that's disoriented and possibly sick and scared out of its fucking mind.

what hopefully happens, once the frenzy's receded enough that it's not overwhelming, is that ingo can regain enough control over the fusion to Make Words Happen and try and explain what's going on. the most important part i think is communicating a) they're a fusion and b) even if he could, he doesn't want to disconnect from lady sneasler until he's sure she's unfrenzied (and also just, calmed down and reassured in a regular sense as well), for the safety of everyone else in the city.

(maybe he also mentions that he hunted this place down bc it felt familiar? that emmet has the same effect at a much more concentrated level? or even just his name. ...and maybe emmet remembers hearing about plasma's experiments in the P2 Laboratory, wretched biological-modification experiments on pokemon, and... oh, oh god, is this where his brother's been all this time?)

[voidfragments]

extended bio; chen tianwu

general information

basic info

name: chen tianwu codename: owl age: 19 gender: trans male pronouns: he/him sexuality: bisexual species: human / herrscher nationality: filipino ethnicity: chinese-filipino family: chen tianwen (younger sister, deceased) occupation: world serpent operative

appearance

height: 173cm / 5'8" build: skinny, lacking muscle hair: short and fluffy. gray-brown, with lighter streaks. eyes: blue (magenta when using herrscher powers), with deep shadows below them. scars: faded honkai infection marks at the edges where skin meets prosthetic. other: the majority of his body is robotic prosthetics. see here for more information.

background

manila, philippines. 2015. there was a honkai eruption, leaving the city in disaster. among the survivors was chen tianwu, who was saved by ana schariac, a valkyrie of schicksal. while escaping the city, the two bonded, culminating in a promise to both survive, represented by two halves of a heart-shaped necklace. afterward, as tianwu laid in the hospital with severe honkai infection, he had another request for ana: to locate his sister, who he'd been separated from in the disaster. ana reacted strangely, telling him to keep his half of the necklace and leaving. ana went on to become the new leader of schicksal's snow lotus squad, while tianwu was informed that, with the degree to which he was infected with honkai, he would only have two years to live at most. unwilling to accept this, and in search of information--about the honkai, about his sister, and about ana--he got involved in the dark side of society, joining an organization called "thousand fists". when the organization was destroyed by raven, an operative of world serpent, she spared him out of respect for his skills and tenacity, and he was recruited into world serpent as "owl". it was there that he replaced his infected body parts with prosthetics to prolong his life as he rose through the ranks.

personality

on the surface, owl appears laid-back, even lazy, constantly tired and typically choosing to hang back in safer areas rather than directly involving himself in the action. the truth is the opposite, however: owl is stubborn and dedicated. one might even call him obsessive. the last few years of his life have been dedicated to his search and his desire to see ana again. she takes priority over everything--he'd betray his allies and even give up his own life for her.

combat information

general

as stated previously, owl tends to stay out of combat. he has a few things going for him--he can hold his own in hand-to-hand against a normal person, he has a basic understanding of most weapons, and the sheer fact of being more metal than flesh provides him some endurance--but he'd get folded pretty quickly against most opponents more powerful than normal humans.

herrscher of stars

as the herrscher of stars, he possesses gravity manipulation abilities. however, he was only a herrscher for a short time before giving his core up and ultimately dying, so he doesn't have access to these powers in most canonverse interactions.

ooc information

shipping

while i am open to potentially shipping him with other people, his devotion to ana means it's pretty unlikely. it'll take some serious chemistry. that said, you're welcome to try, or to let your muse have a one-sided crush on him. also, to any ana rpers reading this: i will not automatically assume we're shipping! and as much as i'd love to ship them, if you don't want to, i will respect that.

[nuatthebeach]

omg otp asks okay: 1, 13, 17, 20, 27, & 51

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you’?

Harry to be honest. I can see this being his reasoning every time he works overtime or does anything with the intention of protecting her and his family. “I’m doing this for our family, to make the world a safer place for them. Because I love you! And I love them!” Also this dude is mega dramatic for literally anything. Whether Ginny would accept that as a valid reason to end an argument is another question entirely 🤔 . Either way, there’s always a part of her that tingles every time she hears it.

13. Who’s the bigger tease?

Intentionally, Ginny. She’d corner him when he’s either really busy doing work at home or even at the Burrow, Ministry meetings, or even at mundane places like the grocery store. She’d flip her hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck, or start touching the pads of her fingers on his bicep, or lean on his side, or stare at him with the classic blazing look. Harry would pretend to ignore it but there’s no mistaking his rising blush - and when he grows older - his foot and fingers from tapping restlessly before he gives in and pushes her against the wall in some lonely corridor (just like old times) where he can really give all his attention to her, not that she didn’t have it already.

Unintentionally, Harry. He’d offer to read the book she’s reading (“you’re laughing so much, it can’t be that funny” but they both know he wants to just laugh with her), or compliment her flying skills, or gush at her witty commentary in the Prophet, or suggest he watch the kids while she goes for some much needed girl time - in which case, Ginny decides everything else can fucking wait because this hunk of a man is actually with her forever and ever and ever, and she proceeds to blow his effing mind (amongst other things) once more.

17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

Both do it a lot tbh, but the person who does it the most is Harry. As much of a rep Gin gets for being impulsive, when it comes to random kisses Harry takes the lead. In his eyes, she’s just so cute and small but also she’s this ball of energy and light, and when he looks upon her as she’s hexing yet another person who lowkey (high key) deserved it, he thinks back to the war and his suffering and all he can come to terms with is yes. It was worth it. She will always be. And then, boom. He snogs the angst away, and she lets him.

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

SJLAKSJSLAKSLDKAL IT IS TIME FOLKS, I HAVE OFFICIALLY COME BACK FULL CIRCLE.

Long story short (another amazing Taylor Swift song that encompasses Hinny btw), the answer would have to be Daylight by Taylor Swift. I talk about it in my very first post on tumblr here and it’s the title to my short story compilation on ao3 here.

Need convincing? Just look at these bomb lyrics that my girl TS dropped.

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

Everyone looked worse in the light

There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight.

I honestly have a whole Taylor Swift Hinny playlist that I’d be glad to share if anyone wants it.

27. Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?

Sigh. Ginny, poor thing. As a shorty myself, I figure she wouldn’t get past much. But Harry finds it cute when she drinks and she’s always doing really silly things like dancing on top of tables and making really brazen innuendos that make him grin as much as he blushes. She’d probably hit him teasingly for being a “typical noble male git” if he told her this, but he really really really enjoys taking care of her afterward, lying her down and giving her water and massaging her sore feet (because dancing is exhausting, people!) and pampering her in ways she’d roll her eyes at if she was sober.

51. What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

At first, my answer was going to be in very practical ways like doing each other’s dishes without asking for it/not their day to do it, or Harry killing the cockroach in the corner of the room without teasing her even the tiniest bit because dammit Ron may be scared of spiders but Ginny is absolutely terrified of those disgusting shitters (“Did you know cockroaches have evolved the least out of all bugs?” “Yes, Gin, you say this every single time.”)

But then I remember HBP and the intimate way they’d interact, so I actually do think they keep anniversary dates in mind (nothing too big but appreciative enough - and they definitely like experiences/traveling more than fancy dinners). And I think the way they laugh and touch each other and run fingers through the other’s hair and give massages are all very intimate expressions indeed.

Especially laughter. When Ginny makes a joke and Harry laughs, that validation is like he’s telling her he loves her 3245 times and she absolutely gushes over it.

And when Harry catches Ginny’s mischievous eyes every time someone says an inappropriate joke, he finds himself physically pressing his palm to the core of his chest from the way his heart violently wants to leap out of it.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 8

Request: Yes or No

Sam and y/n had more development than y/n and Wanda lmao

~

You crossed your arms as you entered the room, glancing at the older man. You shared a look with Sam and Wanda, taking a seat in between Sam and Vision. You licked your lips, leaning towards Sam.

"What's this about?" You asked quietly, gaze flickering to Tony who sat in a corner.

"If I had to guess.. Probably about what happened in Lagos." Sam replied, glancing at Steve and Natasha. You frowned, looking at the Secretary of State.

"The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt." He began, gaze sweeping over everyone in the room.

"You have.. Fought for us, protected us, risked your lives but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the term 'vigilantes.'"

"And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?" Natasha asked, studying the older man. You looked back at Tony Stark, making brief eye contact with him. It felt like an intervention. Or a teacher scolding their class after they made the sub cry.

"How about dangerous?" You frowned, looking forward when you heard his words.

"What would you call a group of US based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, quite frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?" Mr. Secretary asked, looking over the small group in disappointed. You'd hate to admit it, but he had a point. The citizens of Sokovia were left to find new homes and the people of Lagos had to fix what had been destroyed. Mr. Secretary stepped to the side, looking at the screen. Videos began playing of all the times the Avengers caused destruction and most likely death. Wanda looked away, growing uncomfortable as the aftermath of the Lagos incident played. She already felt guilty enough about it. She had told you many times how she wished it would've gone differently. Steve noticed, frown deepening.

"That's enough." He called, watching the screen turn off.

"For the last few years, you've operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's a decision the governments of the world can no longer tolerate." Mr. Secretary told them, hands clasped behind his back. You frowned, brows furrowing slightly.

"But we have a solution." Mr. Secretary took a book from his bodyguard, stepping forward and handing it to Wanda. Wanda picked it up, looking it over.

"The Sokovia Accords.. Approved by a hundred and seventeen countries." Wanda slid the book over to Rhodes so he could take a proper look at it. You looked at Mr. Secretary as he walked around the table.

"It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of The United Nations Panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary."

"That's such bullshit." You whispered. Mr. Secretary turned towards you, cocking a brow. Natasha let an amused smile slip while Sam covered up his snicker with a cough.

"The Avengers were created to make the world a safer place." Steve spoke up before he could address you.

"This is the middle ground." Mr. Secretary said, walking to the front again and facing everyone.

"The Accords will be ratified in a couple days." Steve turned towards Tony, earning a silent response.

"I'll leave you to discuss."

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Leave it to Natasha to say what was on everyones' minds. Mr. Secretary paused as he approached the door.

"Then you retire." He answered plainly. You watched him leave, picking up the cup of water infront of You You went to take a sip but it turned to ice before you could drink from it. With a small huff, you placed it down.

"That's new." Natasha called with a small smile, hoping to ease the tension in the room. You stood up, leaving the meeting room and heading to the lounge. The others followed, taking more comfortable seats on the couch. A debate quickly started between Rhodes and Sam while Steve looked through the Accords.

"Have you two thought about starting a debate club?" You asked, tapping the frozen water a few times before it finally turned back to normal water. Natasha let out a small snort, chuckling as she shook her head.

"I have an equation." Vision announced, stopping Rhodes and Sam. They turned towards him.

"In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of enhanced people has grown and during the same period, the number of world ending events has risen."

"So, it's Starks' fault?" You asked, leaning back in your seat with a tilted head. Tony scoffed from his spot on the couch, rolling his eyes.

"I'm saying, there might be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge, challenge insights conflict, and conflict... Breeds catastrophe. Oversight is not an idea that should be dismissed."

"I wish I understood half of what you said." You muttered softly, running your finger the leaf of a plant beside the seat. Natasha turned towards Tony, watching him.

"You're being uncharacteristic non-hyper verbal." Natasha pointed out softly as he looked at her with a deep sigh. Steve looked up from the Accords.

"It's cause he already made up his mind." Steve said, earning a small eye roll. Tony slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Actually, I'm nursing a headache." He muttered as he stood up, walking towards the coffee machine. He poured himself some coffee and grabbed a bottle of pills before sighing and placing down a device. He showed an image of a young man.

"Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. A great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor level gig for the fall. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the people in Sokovia." Tony said, obviously agitated as he looked over everyone. You wondered why he now cared for the people who were injured during attacks.

"He wanted to make a difference although we'll never know cause we dropped a building on him while kicking ass." Everyone stayed silent as he spoke. You watched him take a pill, drinking it with the coffee.

"There's no decision making here. We need to be put in check. Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, we're no better than the bad guys."

"Tony, when someone dies on your watch, you don't give up." Steve closed the Accords, looking at Tony with a frown.

"Who says we're giving up?"

"We are by not taking responsibilities for our actions. This document shifts the blame." Steve voiced his opinion, shrugging lightly.

"Steve, that is dangerously arrogant." Rhodes spoke up, shaking his head. Steve turned towards him.

"This is the United Nations we're talking about. It's not the world security counsel, it's not S.H.I.E.L.D, it's not HYDRA-"

"But it's run by people with agendas and agendas change." Steve pointed out as you rubbed your forehead, sighing softly. Both sides had good points but you sided with Steve. The team was obviously divided.

"What do you think, (Y/N)?" Vision asked, looking at you curiously. You licked your lips, gaze focusing on Tony.

"I'm curious as to why you care so much about this Charles guy. You've had, what was it? Eight years as Iron Man to care about the people who get hurt? Why now? Cause you realized one of those people could become the new you? Would you care this much about Charles if he had been a typical guy? No degree, no plans for the future, just a normal guy working a normal 9 to 5 job and just trying to make it through the week. I agree with Steve. What if something happens and they don't send us to help because it doesn't go with their agenda? People get hurt cause you've never set up a system to help after these things happen. You're a fucking billionaire, Tony. Make a company that's designed to help people get back on their feet after the Avengers bulldoze through cities." You said, legs crossing as you looked over everyone else. Steve gave a small nod, glad you were seeing his side. He checked his phone, abruptly standing and announcing he had to leave. You and the others watched him go in confusion.

"To answer your questions, I do care about normal people." Tony said, arms crossing. You let out a soft groan, leaning back in the couch.

"I'm sorry, what are you? Twelve? Didn't you turn twenty this year?" Tony cocked a brow, watching as you rolled your eyes and stood.

"Yeah, I did turn twenty. Surprised you knew considering you've never particularly liked me."

"Well, first impressions are everything and you did try impaling me with a branch."

"Maybe I should've."

"Alright, boys, let's calm down." Natasha called, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned and walked towards the steps, heading down to your room at the facility. You entered and plopped down on the bed, running a hand through your hair. You tapped your foot on the ground, fingers going to the root bracelets in an attempt to relax. Wanda opened the door, closing it behind her and sitting beside you.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, staring at you in concern. You weren't one to snap at others so quickly.

"There's so much going on. The Accords, my fucking powers, the sudden change in Nat and Tony, you possibly getting into trouble cause of the Lagos incident.. That could've been me." You breathed out. Wanda frowned, brows furrowing.

"No, it wouldn't have."

"I shot fire out of my hands and turned water to ice without meaning to. They're getting unpredictable." You looked at her, grip on the roots tightening. Wanda's gaze flickered to the window, making you turn. Part of the window was covered in a thin layer of ice.

"And that just proved my point."

"You're an incredible person, (N/N). Have faith in yourself. You'll gain control of them sooner or later. You have beautiful powers that could change and heal the world." Wanda pointed out gently, having you rest your head on her shoulder. She softly began to hum a lullaby. You didn't understand the words but her soft voice proved to be soothing.

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Why'd you call me again?" You asked, toying with the strings of your hoodie as you looked around the cafe. You had planned on taking a nap and watching a new show on Netflix but it seemed like Steve had other plans for you.

"Because I trust you and need your help." Steve replied, fixing his baseball cap as he tried avoiding eye contact with civilians.

"Really?" You asked softly. Steve nodded, offering a smile. He licked his lips, nodding to the tv. You turned, looking at the news. You really didn't have to considering what they were showing was right down the street.

"Your friend?" You looked back at Steve with a tilted head.

"We gotta find him before anyone else does." Steve said. You nodded, watching him. Steve had been desperately trying to find his friend, Bucky, since the attempt on Furys' life.

"I'll go in alone. We don't want to seem threatening or set him off by going in as a trio."

"(Y/N)? Being threatening? He can't even scare a baby!" Sam said in amusement, shooting you a playful grin.

"Right back at you, bird boy."

"I'm sorry, who here is named after the top bird of prey?" Sam asked, leaning forward slightly as Steve let out an amused sigh.

"Oh, I didn't know you were named after eagles." You responded, smiling in triumph when Sam huffed lightly.

"Come on, you two." Steve chuckled, leaving the cafe and heading down the sidewalk.

"I don't trust Stark." You told them, arms crossing. Sam glanced at you as Steve turned into an alleyway.

"Not surprised considering the little fight you two had."

"I think he had Vis keep an eye on me and Wanda. I snuck out while he was with Wanda in the kitchen." You told him, frowning.

"Firstly, I'm an adult-"

"That's questionable."

"-And secondly, he's not my dad." You took off the hoodie as Steve unlocked a car parked in the alleyway, giving Sam the duffle bag with his outfit. You looked at your phone when it buzzed, seeing texts from Clint.

Clint

Heard you had a fight with Stark

Clint

You're officially an Avenger now

You smiled softly, chuckling softly at the texts. You waited for the guys to finish changing before taking the earpiece from Steve. The apartment building had been nearby so you and Sam headed onto the roof while Steve entered.

"How well do you think this will go?" You asked Sam, looking for any sign of law enforcement.

"Wanna bet?"

"How much?" You looked at him, giving a small grin. Sam looked up at the sky for a moment, thinking it over.

"30 bucks. I bet this will go to shit and this dude will escape."

"I bet we'll get into serious shit but this dude will either come with us or get caught." You replied. Sam stuck out his hand, nodding. You shook it, chuckling softly. You turned your head, noticing movement.

"We've got company, Cap."

"They're approaching from the south." Sam added, attention focused on them. You heard Steve begin to talk to someone, watching the cars pull in and get ready. You turned your head, hearing the door to the roof open.

"Shit." You whispered, letting Sam pick you up and lift you into the air. You could hear the fight going on inside through the earpiece.

"Should we help?" You asked, glancing up at Sam.

"No clue." Sam replied, watching Bucky jump from the apartment onto the roof of another building. You noticed someone running at a high speed, jumping up onto the roof and knocking Bucky down.

"They have cat ears." You mumbled, pushing Sam's arms away.

"Deal with them." You motioned to the German police force on the roof, hoping down onto the roof. You raised your hand, a root shooting out and grabbing the strangers arm, refraining them from clawing at Bucky. Bucky turned his head, making eye contact with you. Your eyes widened when the man grabbed the root, using what felt like super strength to toss you off the roof. You quickly used a root to grab onto the side, breathing out a sigh of relief. Sam took care of a helicopter before flying by to grab you.

"Thanks." You breathed out, holding onto him as he followed the chase. Steve, Bucky, and the cat guy went into one of the tunnels. Sam flew in once there was an opening, trying to help Steve with the cat guy. You huffed when the cat guy grabbed Sam's ankle, pointing your hand at him and shooting a strong gust of air. The cat guy lost his grip monetarily but quickly grabbed on again. Bucky threw up an explosive so Sam quickly stopped, flinging the guy off him. Sam landed, walking past the rubble. You sighed, raising your hands as you and Sam were quickly surrounded by cops.

"Mom's gonna kill me." You whispered.

"That's what you're concerned about?" Sam asked, glancing at you in disbelief.

"We're getting arrested, (Y/N)!"

[hopelesshawks]

Ash and Dust Part 21- Toga

18+ Dabi x fem!reader (MINORS DNI)

Summary: You first meet Dabi on the worst night of your life after unwittingly walking into the very bar the League of Villains made infamous. That should probably be the end of the story. You stumble on the remnants of one of the most infamous terrorist groups in the history of Japan, get viciously murdered or call the cops and get them arrested, the end. Except that’s not the end of the story. It’s only the beginning.

Warnings: Graphic description of major character injury, blood, canon typical violence

Link to change y/n to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi (Help Lulu)

If someone had told Dabi a year ago that he’d be sneaking into the youngest Todoroki’s apartment in order to work alongside the brat, he would’ve laughed in their face and then reduced them to ashes.

Now?

It’s the price he pays for being so careless with you.

It’s already been three days since he drove back from the beach to try and get you and he’s got fuck all to show for it. His old contacts claimed not to have heard anything about it from the grapevine, Spinner was entirely useless, and even his goody-goody baby brother had been coming up short. And each second longer you spend with psycho barbie the more likely it is that the you he gets back won’t really be you anymore. Toga will do her damndest to break you, of that he’s sure, and every time he recalls that fact it has bile crawling up his throat.

Because it is completely, unavoidably, and unequivocally his fault.

It’s his fault Toga had her eyes set on you.

It’s his fault she knew where your apartment is.

It’s his fault you hadn’t been staying in a different, safer apartment instead.

And it’s his fault that you were alone with no one to protect you from her.

“You look like shit,” Shouto says the minute Dabi gets inside.

“Fuck off,” Dabi growls back.

“Your roots are coming in and it looks dumb. It shouldn’t be possible for you to have bags under your eyes considering you burnt them to shit and yet there they are,” his little brother continues.

“I’ve been a little busy asshole. Watch it before I roast you alive.”

“You’re not going to do shit. You need my help because I’m the one with access to official channels.”

Dabi scowls. Shouto isn’t wrong. Dabi’s own contacts had been useless and while they probably had heard more than they were willing to admit, none of them had enough loyalty to Dabi to get involved in a conflict between him and Toga. He’d normally make them pay for not choosing sides but keeping a low profile is even more important than ever now. So Shouto’s contacts and capabilities by virtue of being a well-regarded pro hero were an essential part of the investigation.

“Speaking of, I think I might’ve found her,” Shouto adds.

In a second Dabi is in his little brother’s face, a hand fisted in his shirt.

“Why wouldn’t you start with that,” he growls.

“Because I knew you’d rush off if I did. If you want to get her out safely we need to be smart about this,” Shouto explains.

“You’re wasting time.”

“You’re not the only one who cares about her, Touya.”

The words make Dabi stop short, his grip on Shouto’s shirt loosening.

“I don’t know what you two were to each other but I consider her a friend. So pull it together so we can go save her. Alright?”

“Fine…”

The address Shouto had narrowed things down to turns out to be an abandoned apartment complex on the outskirts of the city. Dabi has been in the area before so he knows the layout decently well. There’s no easy way in other than through the front door and without knowing exactly where inside you are, it’ll be difficult to flush out Toga without potentially hurting you. Basically it’s an uphill battle and Toga’s quirk would only make it harder.

Still though, Dabi is determined and he can tell Shouto is too. It’s a mild reassurance even if he isn’t ecstatic about the idea of fighting alongside his brother.

“Split up and cover each apartment?” Shouto asks.

“I’ll start at the top, you start at the bottom. Signal if you find that psycho bitch.”

The inside of the building is dark and dank, the scent of mold permeating throughout. The concrete walls and floors do a piss poor job of insulating the building so if anything it almost feels colder inside than out. Dabi had rocketed himself up to the top floor and swung in through one of the windows, fully anticipating having to break glass to do so but instead had found most of the windows blown out already. It’s a miserable place and he’s eager to find you and get the fuck out. He moves quickly through each apartment, breaking down the door when necessary, all in his quest to find you. He clears the top floor and then makes his way down further into the building, moving systematically through. As he descends to the fourth floor he hears a faint sobbing, following the sound to one of the rooms. He tips inside only to find you collapsed over on the floor, bawling your eyes out. He steps inside and your head snaps up to look at him. “D-Dabi?” you stutter in disbelief as you train your watery eyes on him. More tears cascade down your cheeks as you extend your arms to him. “You came for me?” you ask, voice warbling.

“Cut the shit Toga,” Dabi growls.

Toga huffs, sitting back on her palms and brusquely wiping the tears from her face. “Well you’re no fun. How’d you know it was me?”

“You’re a shit actor.”

“I’m surprised you even care enough to tell the difference when you ghosted her. The poor thing hasn’t been sleeping well or taking care of herself since ya left y’know. Although it did make my job that much easier so thanks for that.”

Slowly your form melts away as Toga transforms back to her own appearance.

“Where is she?” he demands.

“She’s resting right now. We’ve been having such a fun time on our little sleepover that she’s quite exhausted.”

Touya doesn’t make the conscious choice to activate his quirk but finds his arms blazing with bright blue flames all the same. He dimly registers that it hurts at the fringes of his already burned skin but it’s a small penance for whatever you’ve suffered because of him.

“You know you don’t stand a chance of winning this fight,” he scowls, “so come off it and tell me where the fuck she is.”

“I don’t need to win the fight, silly. I’m just making sure by the time you get to her you’re too late.”

Touya lunges, tackling Toga to the ground and letting his flames roar even higher. She uses his momentum against him so the two tumble a bit, not that it stops him from allowing his flames to consume them both. He feels her skin shifting beneath his palms as they roll and he doesn’t pay much mind to it until suddenly he’s got her pinned but it’s your face looking up at him. “You’re not her,” he growls. “Please, it hurts, it hurts!” she cries out, skin burning as his rage and frustration and anger and pain turn his flames from blue to violet and he knows she’s not you but she sounds like you and looks like you and he’s so fucking pathetic because even though he knows he just can’t do it.

“FUCK!” he shouts in frustration, his flames abruptly localizing to his fist as he slams it into the concrete next to Toga’s head, blood dripping from the scars beneath his eyes and head hanging in defeat.

Toga’s cackle sounds especially cruel and ugly in your voice as she delights in his turmoil. She knew she could never beat him in a fight, she was fucking counting on it.

“You can’t hide behind her face forever.”

“I’ve had her for a long time. I can hide behind her face for longer than she has left.”

Suddenly the room is iced over, freezing both Toga and Touya in place.

“Set yourself free and find her. I cleared the rest of the building, she must be nearby,” Shouto commands, rushing into the room.

Ordinarily the command would’ve made Touya bristle but as is he says nothing, using his flames to melt the ice and escape. Toga tries to lunge out at him but a blast of fire from his little brother has her reeling back instead. Touya takes advantage of the opening to race deeper into the apartment, checking each room meticulously for any and all signs of you. When he finally finds you he can’t even bring himself to be relieved yet.

Touya finds you handcuffed to a pipe in one of the rooms, clad in only your bra and panties, slumped over. The floor and wall around you are both heavily smeared with your blood and even from across the room he can see several deep gashes in your skin that are still bleeding lazily.

He crosses the room in only a few steps, collapsing to his knees in front of you as he grasps your face in both his hands and lifts your head to face him. You’re unconscious but now that he’s this close he can tell you’re breathing at least, even if it’s worryingly shallow. He releases your face in favor of grasping hold of the chain on your handcuffs instead. Melting the chain is trivial, especially considering how keyed up he is, but without them you slump forward even further and he has to catch you. To his surprise you stir, suddenly shifting in his arms. For a moment you flinch, shifting yourself violently backwards and he has to reach forward to stop you from getting too far.

“Hey! Hey, it’s just me doll,” he assures and you blink at him slowly. Too slowly.

“Touya?”

“Yea it’s me. I’m gonna get you outta here but first I need to patch up some of those cuts alright?”

You scoff and it cracks him open in ways he didn’t think possible.

“Thought y’ used up all his blood,” you mumble.

“No it’s not- we don’t have time for this. I’m gonna seal the wounds now ok? It’s gonna hurt,” he warns.

“Y’ can’t mimic quirks Toga, ‘m not dumb.”

As much as he hates hurting you, he realizes that you’re both wasting valuable time now so he ignites two of his fingers and presses them to the deepest appearing of the gashes. You flinch at the pain, unable to muster up any more of a reaction from your bruised and battered body as he slowly cauterizes the gash. He repeats the process for all of your more serious wounds and by the time he finishes you’re trembling slightly in his hold. Despite how weak your body is, your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders and suddenly you’re gripping him with what little strength is left in you.

“Yer the real one?” you ask hesitantly, and for the first time you lift your head enough for your eyes to meet his, silent tears of relief starting to slip down your cheeks.

“Yea baby, I’m the real one,” he assures.

He’s never unironically used a pet name like that before but somehow it rolls off his tongue so easily for you as he brushes the tears away from your cheeks.

“You’ve been crying,” you note, reaching forward to brush the blood staining his cheeks away.

His gut instinct is to correct you. He can’t cry; he burned his tear ducts out to make sure he never could again. But considering the blood on his face he supposes it’s a technicality at this point, so instead he just pulls you closer to him, lifting you into a princess carry as he rises. “We’ve gotta get you out of here,” he mumbles instead of replying before making his way out of the apartment.

There’s no sounds of fighting so he moves back into the room he’d first found Toga in. Sure enough she and Shouto are nowhere to be found. He doesn’t have time to worry about them though, he knows his brother can handle her just fine. Instead he moves as quickly as he can down the stairs and eventually out the door. He finds a car to boost and hurries to settle you into the back seat so he can lay you down. Just as he’s got you fastened in with his jacket draped over you as a makeshift blanket, Shouto jogs up to him looking contrite.

“You lost Toga?” Touya guesses.

“She bailed out the window the minute you left. Chased her as long as I could but the minute we got to an area with more people-”

“She phased into someone else and you couldn’t keep track of her.”

Shouto nods grimly. He prepares himself for Touya to get angry or lash out but it doesn’t happen. Instead Touya just wordlessly opens the passenger side door before moving to the driver’s side to hotwire it. They both climb in and soon they’re on the road, more than ready to put the apartment complex in the rearview mirror.

“Not gonna say anything about me stealing a car Mr. Pro Hero?” Touya finally asks after they’ve been driving for a while.

“If it gets reported I’ll tell them I accidentally destroyed it trying to get Toga and cover the cost of replacement,” Shouto shrugs, “it was more important to get her out of there.”

“Toga will be back.”

“I know, I’m assuming that’s why you aren’t driving to the hospital right now.”

“Smarter than you look.”

“Drop me at my apartment. I’ll pick up Natsuo in my car and meet you at the beach house.”

Dabi shoots him an incredulous look before redirecting his eyes to the road.

“This isn’t a fucking family reunion.”

“She needs actual medical attention and Natsuo is an actual medical professional. Like it or not you need him to make sure she survives the night.”

Touya’s hands clench hard onto the steering wheel. He’s tempted to ignore Shouto. You’re not bleeding anymore, so you’ll be fine eventually. At this point your body just needs time to recover.

Right?

His eyes drift to the rearview mirror so he can see you. You’ve got a death grip on his jacket and your eyebrows are furrowed as if even the simple act of breathing is painful. If he’s being honest with himself it probably is. Sure he’d stopped the bleeding but what if one of your wounds is infected? What if he missed something?

His eyes focus forward again. He’s going to have to make a decision soon. He has zero interest in seeing anymore of his family. Shouto had already only gotten involved because it had been a necessary evil. But he also can’t fix this alone.

So Touya does something he hasn’t done in a very long time, if ever.

He puts someone else over himself.

A/N: This chapter was a bitch and a half to write but I'm v happy with how it turned out

Taglist: @thechroniclesofawriter @simpsfortodoroki @ahtsuwu @002opdestiny @larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @tina-98 @vibesdontlie @clubfairy @oddball215 @myfavoriteficsandsuch @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @alyssa6marie @bleuchichiriq

[chopperfancard]

So, here’s Titanosaurus! i fucking hate her or canonically him i literally had to reattempt this so many times over fuckyoufcukyocufkyou. Sorry no shading with this one. OH YEAH AND I ALSO HAD TO FUCKING REWRITE ALL OF THIS STUFF “ The Queen of the Sea with a Heart of Gold “ Size Stats: Height - 345 feet tall (399 feet with neck fully elongated)  Length - 580 feet Abilities: Amphibious Nature - Self explanatory. Remarkable Physical Strength - Titanosaurus, despite being piscivorous. Has an extremely tough bite force, along with high physical capabilites. She was able to ragdoll Godzilla around using her powerful bite force and strength. Her tail is also capable of causing streaks of wind capable of leveling cities. And tsunamis large enough with similar destructive power. Bioluminescence - Typically being a deep sea creature, she uses this to traverse dark areas. Empathy and Intellect - Titanosaurus displays advanced empathy and intellect than most marine titans, with the exception of Godzilla. She is capable of understanding attack patterns; aswell as heavy empathy. She is empathetic towards the Gojira hatchlings, wishing to raise them as her surrogate children, aswell as Godzilla himself; as displayed during Kiryu’s brawl. Scale color manipulation - Titanosaurus is capable of changing her scale color to match her emotions, or just for style. She can also use this ability for camouflage. Regenerative Factor - Titanosaurus is capable of healing from the most ghastly of wounds. Ranging from gashing scars to outright amputations; she is capable of regenerating from it if given enough time. Although; sometimes a wound might be too much for her to heal; risking her life of dying. Sonic Waves - A signature attack of Titanosaurus. Titanosaurus can emit sonic waves from her scales. These are highly destructive, capable of leveling almost anything in a close proximity to her, and heavily damaging farther away entities. Sonic Scream - Titanosaurus is capable of letting out a fatally loud screech. However; it is observed that this scream is very concentrated, therefore making it like a beam of sorts. Brief History:

Godzilla Against Kiryu - Part 1 - Soul inside the Shell

Titanosaurus had been in Monarch’s catalogues for a while, but she has been destroying nuclear submarines and cargo ships, and dragging their remains back to her island. MONARCH finds concern in her sudden behavioral changes, and attempts to investigate. They find three eggs at her island; which they find out are Gojira eggs. MONARCH is quick to rob them; Titanosaurus attempts to save her eggs, but is hit by a point-blank Atomic Breath by Godzilla; who has arrived to snatch the eggs himself aswell.

Titanosaurus and Godzilla brawl, Titanosaurus managing to ragdoll Godzilla, Godzilla retaliates extremely ferociously and violently. Scarring Titanosaurus and amputating her leg and half of her face scraped off.. Titanosaurus is in great pain, however; she lets out a Sonic Wave as a defense mechanism, which causes immense damage to Godzilla’s spines; nearly shattering them. Godzilla bites down on Titanosaurus and throws her into the ocean. Maliciously intending for her to die of her wounds at the depths of the ocean.

Long after this event; during Godzilla’s destructive assault on the Kansai region of Japan. Titanosaurus soon appears in near proximity to Osaka bay, to the immense surprise of MONARCH, as they had declared her as deceased already; but she appeared to be as good as new. Despite being brutally scarred and amputated. They conclude that she possesses a healing factor.

Since Kiryu is occupied fighting Godzilla at Kyoto, the TCTF deploys Type 2 Mech “GARUDA” to fight Titanosaurus. Titanosaurus is incapable of physically attacking GARUDA, as it was in it’s airborne state for this fight. Titanosaurus mustered the energy and used her concentrated Sonic Scream on GARUDA. Ravaging it greatly. GARUDA manages to get back up and retreats the scene. Titanosaurus proceeds to Osaka, where she avoids destroying anything else besides MONARCH forces. To which she took pleasure destroying.

Titanosaurus managed to make it to the area the Gojira hatchlings were being held; where she broke them out, however; the hatchlings were horrified by her. Titanosaurus felt hurt by this, and covered them; giving them warmth. This lasted for a few minutes before Kiryu arrived at the scene, engaging Titanosaurus and shooting a barrage of missiles at her fins. This caused them to pierce. She hid the hatchlings and challenged Kiryu. Titanosaurus managed to cause major functionality damage to Kiryu with her constant emission of Sonic waves.

However; the tables quickly turned in Kiryu’s favor after her combined with Type 2 “GARUDA”, and shot Titanosaurus with a Fusion Hyper Maser Beam. This caused near fatal damage to Titanosaurus. It struck her chest; which caused heavily compromised her breathing and heart beating. Godzilla eventually arrived to engage Kiryu. Godzilla seemed to not pay bother to the dying sea Titan, only interested in fighting Kiryu. For those who don’t know what happens next; you can refer to my Kiryu redesign. but a long story short; Kiryu holds the L. Titanosaurus, as soon as she healed, returned to the three hatchlings, and comforted them. Godzilla came over realizing the real goals of Titanosaurus. Godzilla decided to take the hatchlings from her; as he believed he would be the better fit caregiver to them. With a heavy heart; Titanosaurus lended the hatchlings over. Even though it was a decision that hurt more than anything; they would have likely lived a much safer and happier life with Godzilla than her. She returned to the sea on a Somber note.

(I was supposed to add her role in the second Kiryu chapter, but I suppose I will do that sometime later.)

[rainingpouringetc]

but god i want to feel again

written for alastair pain day 2021 (even though it’s two days late) title from ‘touch’ by sleeping at last, which i listened to on repeat while writing

tw for brief implied period-typical racism, abuse, alcoholism, bullying, toxic relationships

read on ao3

all i want is to flip a switch before something breaks that cannot be fixed.

invisible machinery, these moving parts inside of me well, they’ve been shutting down for quite some time, leaving only rust behind.

well i know, i know- the sirens sound just before the walls come down. pain is a well-intentioned weatherman predicting God as best he can, but God i want to feel again, oh God i want to feel again.

~‘touch’ sleeping at last

---

Alastair rolled his shoulders back. He’d done this a hundred times before. It never got easier.

“Come on, now, Baba,” he groaned, lifting his father’s arm across his shoulder. Elias mumbled something incoherent and drooped further, stumbling over his own feet as he was dragged over the cobblestones. “Time to go home,” Alastair murmured, silently tallying how many times he had taken this exact route from this exact tavern in just the past month.

Twelve years old and he knew the location of every pub in every city he’d ever lived.

Their house was visible just up ahead—the third they’d lived in this year. Alastair noted that all the lights were out and thanked whatever god was listening. He couldn’t deal with redirecting Cordelia’s questions on top of getting his father cleaned up. Tonight was already draining enough.

He managed to get Elias up the steps and into the washroom with less trouble than usual, a sign that his father was perhaps more lucid than he’d originally believed. The clock on the mantle had read just past midnight—perhaps he was just tired as well.

“‘M fine, ‘m fine,” Elias slurred as Alastair attempted to wipe his damp forehead with a wet cloth, pushing his son’s hand away.

Alastair huffed and set the cloth aside before turning to rummage through the cabinet for a glass. They always kept a glass in the washroom for times like this. He filled it halfway and offered it to his father. When Elias only glared at it, slumping down on the seat and leaning heavily on the wall, Alastair held the glass to his lips and tipped it back, forcing him to drink. 

When he pulled the glass back—his father having blessedly drunk it all without much of a fight—Elias stood abruptly. He was still quite drunk and thus swayed on his feet for several long moments. Alastair leaped forward to steady him, but was immediately pushed away with all the force of a heroic—however disgraced—Shadowhunter.

Alastair hit the wall hard and gasped as the breath whooshed out of him. His head spun—had he hit it? He must have—and his vision blackened at the edges. Elias was still struggling to keep himself upright. Alastair watched as he took a step and immediately crumpled to the ground. He stumbled forward yet again, trying to help, wanting to help, but his father cried out and Alastair froze in place. The last thing he needed was his mother—or, worse, his sister—hearing the noise and coming to investigate. 

Alastair looked down and realized that at some point he’d dropped the glass. It had shattered on the floor. Head still spinning, he bent down to try to gather it together, instantly cutting his hands. He inhaled sharply, ignoring the pain and sweeping the remains into a small pile in the corner. He could ask Risa for helping taking it out in the morning. 

His hand was bleeding rather substantially, blood running over the Voyance rune on the back. The only Mark he had. 

“Are you alright, Baba?” he asked quietly, careful not to speak loud enough to agitate his father’s headache. 

“‘M fine,” Elias repeated. “Go to bed, Alastair. I’ll be just fine on my own.”

Alastair didn’t believe it for a second. He stood and carefully maneuvered his father’s arm around his shoulders again. He couldn’t risk taking him up the stairs—Elias might fall, or someone might hear. There was a small room just down the hallway that Alastair had left his father in on numerous occasions to sleep off a hangover. It seemed tonight would be another one.

He shouldered the door open and deposited his father on the couch, making sure to leave him on his side and support his head with a few pillows. He knew he shouldn’t leave his father alone. Something could happen, and if Elias died because he suffocated on his own vomit there would be no one to blame but Alastair and his selfishness. But his hands were throbbing now, and his stele was upstairs in his room. He took the stairs two at time, skipping the ones that creaked the most, and shut the door gently behind him.

As soon as it was closed, Alastair slumped down against it, trying to steady his breathing. In, hold. Out, hold. In, hold. Out, hold. Over and over until the spinning stopped, until he could think again.

His stele was on his desk. His mother had given it to him last year, claiming it was a birthday present. Alastair knew it was because she’d spotted the bruises on his arms.

For a moment, Alastair considered leaving the cuts be. They would scar if he did, and it would hurt until then. But Alastair would revel in the pain, in the ability to feel something—anything—besides dull fear and numbness. It was the direction he knew he was heading towards. If he allowed it to consume him—

No. He wouldn’t let it. He wouldn’t let it change him.

Carefully, Alastair picked up the stele. It stung where it pressed against his cuts. He traced an iratze flawlessly and held his hand away to survey his work. 

Practice makes perfect, he thought wryly.

---

Alastair sat almost fully turned around in his seat on the carriage, watching as Cirenworth disappeared into the distance. Cordelia, who had run behind them down the lane, struggling to keep up, had long since faded into nothingness.

“Turn front or you’ll fall off the moment we hit a bump,” Elias snapped from beside him. Alastair did as he was told, stubbornly looking anywhere but at his father.

Alastair did not understand why his father had insisted on seeing him to the Academy. Alone. There would be no one to make sure he returned in one piece, no one to steer him away from welcoming taverns or haul him out of a pub before he drank himself to death. 

But for once, Alastair found he didn’t particularly care. He was going to the Academy, and his father’s health would no longer be his primary concern—his primary burden. He would be around children his own age. He would have a chance to finally—finally—make friends.

It was much more exciting and nerve wracking than he’d expected.

Cordelia had Lucie, a fact that Alastair was endlessly grateful for. But he was all alone. Cordelia could hardly count as a friend. She was his sister, after all, and therefore obligated to tolerate him, yes, but also to tease him at every available opportunity.

This was something he couldn’t risk messing up. He needed this. He was more desperate than he wished to admit.

Alastair spent the remainder of the journey in silence, shutting down all of his father’s attempts at conversation with a stoic nod or by blatantly ignoring him. It wasn’t his favorite method, but he truly could not deal with his father making him more nervous than he already was.

When they finally arrived at the Academy, Alastair’s stomach was a jumbled mess of nerves and whatever he’d eaten for breakfast—he couldn’t even remember at this point. He was too busy praying his father would leave before he could embarrass Alastair.

The universe wouldn’t give him a break, though.

Elias clapped his son on the shoulder and insisted on helping carry his bags up to the dorms. He nearly slipped on the stairs four times. He dropped the bags twice. Alastair wanted to crawl into a hole by the time they arrived. His roommate was nowhere to be seen—likely they hadn’t arrived yet—so Alastair went to stand beside the bed nearest the window. His father dropped the bags to the floor beside the other bed.

“No, Father, this one,” he said, pointing.

Elias blinked at him. “This bed is closer to the door,” he told Alastair, speaking slowly as if the implications should be obvious.

“I know. I just—I want the one closer to the window is all,” Alastair stammered, face hot. What did it matter? In a minute his father would leave and he could take whichever bed he liked most.

“Closer to the door is safer,” Elias insisted, sitting down on the bed and folding his hands together. 

Alastair simply nodded, trying to play along. He might’ve gotten away with it, too, if the door hadn’t burst open at just that moment, revealing a slightly disheveled looking boy. Alastair assumed this was to be his roommate then.

“You’ve chosen your bed already then?” the boy said without preamble, nodding to where Alastair’s bags were sitting next to his father.

“He has,” Elias answered.

The boy nodded and swung his bags up to rest on the bed next to the window. Alastair swallowed thickly and said, “Thank you for your help, Father, but I think I’m alright now.”

Elias grinned. “Of course you are. I’ll be on my way then.” He stood and strode to the door, turning to say, “Goodbye, Alastair joon.” He disappeared into the stairwell.

Alastair turned to his roommate to find the boy was staring at him. “What was that he called you?” the boy questioned a bit rudely.

“Joon?” The boy nodded. “It’s Persian,” Alastair said hesitantly. “It’s just—something you call people you care about.”

The boy wrinkled his nose. “That’s weird.” Alastair flushed. Before he could defend himself, the boy stuck out a hand. “Piers Wentworth.”

Alastair took his hand. “Alastair Carstairs.”

Piers’ eyes widened. “Carstairs? As in—was that Elias Carstairs?”

Alastair nodded, confused at his tone. “He’s my father.”

“Your father?” Alastair nodded again. Piers dropped his hand. “I heard he spends most of his time at the bottom of a bottle.”

Before Alastair could process the words fully, Piers pushed past him and was gone from their room. When the words hit him, Alastair picked up the first thing he could find—a volume of poetry from his bag—and threw it as hard as he could at the wall.

---

Alastair wasn’t sure when he started to become numb. He thought it might’ve been sometime during winter, when Augustus Pounceby kicked him down the stairs and he broke two ribs. Or perhaps it was after that, when Piers locked him out of their room overnight and he slept curled up in an alcove, waking to find Augustus and his friends crowded around him, laughing. 

All he knew was that it was a slap in the face the first time he heard his sister’s name come out of one of their mouths. It was Augustus who had said it—said something so awful Alastair’s mind had blocked it out immediately. All he registered was Cordelia and danger. 

That was the last straw.

He’d grown used to their abuse, to their snide comments and kicks and punches, but if there was one thing that could snap him out of this it was his determination to protect his sister. She was too young, too kind, for this. He wasn’t too numb not to protect her a bit longer.

The next day when Augustus and his gang cornered Alastair again, he made sure there was a clear sight of some of the dregs—the mundane students. Alastair had tried to befriend them as well. They had turned him away, exclaiming that they didn’t realize they allowed people like him in the school. What should he care if a few of them were hurt to save himself and his sister?

The moment Augustus looked like he was going to make his move, Alastair made his, raining down insult after witty insult on the small group of dregs watching on. Augustus stared at him in surprise, then burst into laughter, even joining in once he regained his balance. Piers was there too, and Clive—soon enough the whole lot of them had turned their attention from Alastair and were focused solely on those poor mundanes.

It happened again, and again. Soon enough, Augustus and his friends weren’t seeking Alastair out to kick him around—they were seeking him out for help in their own schemes.

Is this who I’ve become? Alastair wondered faintly as Clive pulled him along down a corridor, speaking rapidly about a prank they were going to play on a few of the girls.

The numbness began to creep back in, diluting the anger and pain of which he’d long been so afraid.

---

Things were different, certainly, when Alastair returned from the Academy. Cordelia managed to pry some of it out of him, but he couldn’t allow her to see the full picture. That would mean telling her about their father’s drinking, and even he wasn’t so selfish as to tell her that yet. 

The years passed, and Alastair allowed that numb shell to solidify and thicken, dampening the swirling mass of indignation and heartbreak that lay beneath. 

And then he met Charles Fairchild.

Or, really, he met Charles again. They had seen each other—talked, even—at various Shadowhunter functions whenever the Carstairs were near London or whenever the Fairchilds were traveling to an Institute near them. Alastair had always picked Charles out effortlessly at such events, with his slicked back red hair and piercing green eyes.

Alastair knew better than to pretend he did not find Charles attractive. It had been no secret to himself that he preferred men—he’d known it since before the Academy, really. But it also wasn’t as if he’d had any opportunity to act on it. 

So, when he was sixteen and in Paris for a few months, when he saw Charles again and the man dropped one too many thinly veiled hints, Alastair allowed himself to be swept away by the romance of it all—the mystery and charm and utter newness that came with Charles and all he represented.

It was wonderful those first months. Perhaps not what Alastair had expected. He supposed he hadn’t thought there would be quite so many rules, but Charles was very insistent. No one could suspect a thing. It was exhilarating.

Until it wasn’t.

He didn’t know when, exactly, it shifted from exciting and new to tedious and tense. Perhaps it was when Charles became engaged to Ariadne. Perhaps it was after the first dozen or so broken promises. Perhaps it was when Alastair realized a life with Charles was a life with doors shut and curtains drawn.

But who was he to complain? That was life, wasn’t it? Few people in the world were lucky enough to have a perfect whirlwind romance, and those who did often left others in the dust. 

And Charles liked Alastair, had told him he loved him. He smiled at Alastair and didn’t act like he was a waste of space. 

So while that numb shell stayed firmly in place to keep everyone else away, Alastair propped open a back door for Charles to come and go in his life as he pleased.

They didn’t see each other as often as Alastair would have liked, and when they were apart they didn’t risk sending letters—“Letters can be intercepted! Opened and read without your consent,” Charles had explained—but that didn’t stop Alastair from dreaming of a time when they could be together without the strings of society attached.

He dreamed of a time when he could feel again.

So he let the little things slide. When Charles and Ariadne didn’t split up when Charles had said they would, Alastair just said, “Next time.” When Charles chose Clave meeting after Clave meeting over Alastair, Alastair simply attended the meetings himself for a chance to see Charles. 

And when Charles pushed him away at every oncoming footstep, every creak of the floorboard, Alastair pretended not to see the fear and shame in his eyes.

---

Alastair decided that Thomas Lightwood was the single most lovely person to have ever existed on the planet.

He also decided that he must be loopy from the exhaustion of the day because he’d never been prone to such sickeningly sweet thoughts before.

But he couldn’t deny it either. There was something in the way he wore his heart on his sleeve that made Thomas so approachable, so loveable.

Alastair found himself wishing he could bottle up this whole day and carry it around with him wherever he went. This whole murder trial business was far more bearable with Thomas there with him.

And yet—all good things must come to an end. Alastair knew it, perhaps better than anyone. And this… this was too good a thing to last very long.

Alastair did not wish to hurt Thomas. Thomas was good and kind and all the things Alastair never had been. Beyond all possible expectations, Thomas had entered the small group of people for which Alastair would do anything. 

Even if it meant pushing him away.

Thomas was grieving. Alastair knew that. He knew that it was messing with Thomas’ head, making him act more recklessly and crave things that were bad for him. Alastair didn’t want to be bad for Tom—he wanted desperately to be good for him. But that couldn’t happen until things changed.

If they ever did.

If anyone would ever be willing to step forward and claim their feelings for him without fearing embarrassment or shame. If anyone would ever be willing to open the door for him and let him step out into the light.

At this point it was almost second nature to pull away from his touch, turn his eyes down and let the lies roll off his tongue. If he closed his eyes, he could almost ignore the sound of his own heart cracking.

As he strode away from him—from that single loveliest person to have ever existed—Alastair wondered if this would do it, if this would be the thing to push him over the edge and break something in him that couldn’t be fixed. 

He could feel it—feel the gears inside him grinding to a halt and shutting down. Soon there would be nothing but rust left behind, and he would be blown away by the wind.

[tags - @littlx-songbxrd @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @barbra-lightwood @lifewouldbebetteronmars @imherongraystairstrash @itsdaughterofthemoon @stxr-thxif @knifescythe @axoloteca ; i just used my standard taglist, sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged <3]

[nyx-aira]

We'll meet again

Summary: Peggy goes on a mission and everything goes wrong.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Peggy, I hope you like it (thanks for the inspiration @lilian-maximoff )

Tag list: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @king-star @ynscrazylife @ycfwmalise14 @procrastinatingsapphictrash @ineffablebean @mochamoff @wlwlovesreading

Peggy was late, she was too late. She sprinted around the corner of the abandoned building and followed the bloody trail, hoping it didn't lead to who she thought it was.

Peggy had been sent on a mission to retrieve some HYDRA Intel, or rather had broke into the office, stole the files for the mission and had gone alone. Because these imbeciles of coworkers she had wouldn't get the job done, at all.

She had been successful in breaking and entering, just the leaving part wasn't as easy as she thought it would. When Peggy stepped out of the office she saw a shadow leaning against the wall, watching her.

She was ready to lie or fight her way out of this situation when you stepped out of the shadows, a knowing smirk on your face.

"Seriously Peg", you said as you stepped forward, " breaking and entering and you didn't invite your best girl?"

Peggy laughed at your antics, mustering you and the way you were dressed. Instead of your normal office attire you wore a leather jacket, army pants, boots and a backpack that looked like it could hold Captain America himself. She shook her head, she should have anticipated this, there was no way to keep a secret from you, not just because you were an SSR agent.

"Where are we heading?" You asked as you followed Peggy to her car, throwing the backpack in the backseat and getting in on the passenger side.

Peggy started the engine and drove through the streets of New York, driving out of the city and heading north. She grabbed a map and threw it in your direction, focusing on the road as she spoke.

"We got word that not to far from here, there's an old factory that's been used by HYDRA. We think that they might still use the facility."

You looked at the map and saw a building that was situated deep in the woods. You snorted, the typical villain hideout.

About a mile from where the building was situated you stopped the car, hiding it behind some bushes and deciding it was safer to walk the remaining distance. The two of you walked in complete silence, focusing on the task at hand, trusting the other to cover your back.

When you arrived at the facility it looked as abandoned as the files had said but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong here. Peggy broke into the building and you followed close behind, weapon drawn.

What greeted you inside was eerie silence. The whole interior was destroyed, machines broken only sparks of electricity lighting the room up. Somehow Peggy got the emergency power running and the whole place was lit in ominous red. It reminded you of a horror movie.

You crept through the hallways, Peggy close behind, following the path of destruction. It lead to a room at the end of the hallway. Peggy stopped you with her hand, signalling that she would go first. You nodded and prepared for the worst as you entered.

Whatever you thought was inside here didn't prepared you for the absolute horror you were faced with. The whole room was covered in blood and you could spy at least two bodies from where you were standing. Looking at Peggy you both agreed that this wasn't an abandoned facility but rather that this was the scene of a crime not too long ago.

You decided to go investigate the second story as you heard a noise. It sounded like the rattling of chains so you ran into the direction of the metallic sound. Banging open the door you rushed into the room, looking around to see nothing more then an empty office. Confused you wanted to leave when suddenly you saw some movement out of the corner of your eye. You turned around and got hit into the head, then everything went black.

Peggy ran faster when she saw a figure slumped against the wall. Coming to a skidding halt in front of you she immediately sank to her knees, taking in the damage. Your leg was bent at an unnatural angle and you had a head wound that was painting your face red. But the most concerning thing was your shirt, your shirt that was turning crimson faster than Peggy would've liked.

You jerked awake as you felt hands on your body, frantically trying to pry them off in a last attempt of self defense. Gentle hands grabbed your trashing limbs and a soothing voice tried to comfort you, a voice you knew. Peggy.

Slowly opening your eyes you groaned in pain as something touched your leg, the voice apologising immediately. Peggy looked absolutely wrecked, her hair was loose and all over her face, tear tracks marking her face. She was devastated but you didn't know why.

In fact you didn't know why you were here at all, how you got here and why there was so much pain. Everything was fuzzy and you were on the edge of unconsciousness, the throbbing pain in your leg and stomach the only thing keeping you from slipping into the darkness completely.

Peggy was crying. She hadn't cried in a long time, the last time when had she lost Steve. But here she was, crying again, over a person that could have been so much more than a friend if she didn't let them sacrifice themselves.

She took your hand and squeezed it, begging you to hold on to stay with her but she felt your grip weaken, your hand slipping from her fingers.

Peggy was sobbing, she was angry, angry at herself that she didn't come with you, angry that she couldn't protect you and angry that she'd never get the chance to tell you how she felt about you. She should have said something while she still could.

A gentle brush of fingers against her arm broke her out of her trance, looking down to see you smiling weakly at her. You lifted your arms and she instantly knew you wanted her closer. Shuffling forward on her knees until she was all in your personal space she looked at you questioningly.

You only gave her a weak smile and pressed your lips to hers, startling her for a second. Peggy soon recovered and kissed you back as gentle and with as much passion as possible. Her heart was torn between happiness and sadness, happy that she finally got to do what she wanted to do since you stepped into her office that faithful day and sadness. Sadness because as you kissed her as if your life depended on it she felt you slipping away, slipping through her fingers even though she just caught you.

You broke away with a teary smile, hand caresing her face one last time, memorising her face so you would never forget. You brushed away one last tear and whispered one last confession as your eyes shut and you were finally at peace.

Peggy felt a hand on her face, wiping her tears away. She looked at you and if she hadn't been that close she would have missed it.

"We'll meet again my love."

She wanted to answer but your eyes fluttered close, one last tear rolling down your face, a smile ghosting your lips as you faded away.

As she pressed a last kiss to your temple, she felt as if your skin was on fire, burning like a thousand suns. With tears in her eyes and burning lips she got up, looking around to see the sun rise over the horizon.

It was a new day, a new day in a new world, a world that maybe wouldn't be so cruel after all.

"We'll meet again my love, we'll meet again."

[jawritter]

Unlikely Places

Request: Hi! I love your work! Can you do a ABO? One where the reader is Beta, and Dean Alpha, and she’s his true mate/soulmate, but they don’t know it, and he gets possessive and goes into almost a feral rut where he tries to claim, and it almost kills her but Sam and Rowena save her and give Dean his Omega back? You come up with the plot because you’re amazing at that!! Please! I’d be forever in your debt!

A/N: This is the first time i have ever written ABO in the context. So please take it easy of me if some of the information isn’t isn’t normal ABO dynamic, or isn’t necessarily something seen in specific AU’s before! This is not a series, just a one shot! As always feedback is golden. I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little nervous about posting this one. It’s the most “Non-Con” I have ever written, and it took me weeks to get this written out in a way that I thought might be acceptable. I hope you all enjoy this one!

This one was Beta’d by @squirrelnotsam! Thanks so much hun! <3

Please heed the warnings on this Fic!! Warnings: (((TRIGGER WARNING!! This fic contains Non-Con, borderline rape implications! Please take caution when reading this if something like this affects you! ))) 

Other Warnings: Smut, almost non-con, angst, possessive Alpha, ABO Dynamics, knotting, forced claiming, forced knotting rut, almost feral Alpha, true mates, soul mates, knotting, mentions of first heat, language, scenting, non consensual scenting, disturbing Alpha behavior. Aggression, Pain, scared reader, Dean can be pretty scary in this one. Massive age gap! 19 year old reader x 41 year old Dean! Mention of parental death of reader’s parents. Language I’m sure because it’s me. 

Word count: 5244

Want More? Check Out My Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

“That will be $8.97,” you tell the woman standing in front of you. She pays you for her purchase, and you hand her bag to her as the door opens and closes with a dinging chime. 

Your eyes train to the large Alpha male that just walked into the filling station you were working at in Lebanon, Kansas. The Omega you were just checking out wasted no time in straightening her blouse by pulling it down lower, and making quite the show of herself as the Alpha grabbed a basket near the door, and lumbered his way over to the beer cooler, not even giving her a second look.

You had to suppress the snort as the Omega harshly grabbed the bag from the counter where she’d laid it when the Alpha had walked in the door, and made her way quickly towards the exit, leaving you alone with the Alpha as he made his way around the store, filling his little basket with things he usually buys every time he came in. 

Pie, beer, jerkies of different types, sometimes toilet paper, the odd Playboy as well as the next copy of Busty Asian Beauty, lube.

You weren’t worried about being left alone in the small store with the rather large and very attractive Alpha. It’s not like it was the first time he’d ever been there, and it wasn’t like he would have any interest in you, a beta. 

By law, you weren’t even allowed to speak to him unless he spoke to you first. Betas were considered even lower than Omegas and weren’t allowed to address an Alpha directly. You had to choose your words wisely when it comes to Omegas too, but they weren’t nearly as hard about that law as they were with the Alphas. 

You watched quietly from behind the counter as the Alpha picked up the newest porn magazine from the rack and placed it in his basket after thumbing through a few pages. 

You wondered if the Alpha lived alone. He carried himself like a bachelor, you never saw him with an Omega, nor had he expressed any interest in any Omega that was in the store the same time he was, male or female. Maybe something was wrong with him physically that prevented him from having those hormone-driven urges that seemed to rule the Alpha and Omega community? 

Whatever the reason, the Alpha seemed to be almost done with his shopping, so he made his way over the counter with his basket, setting it down before finally looking up at you, giving you a tight smile before grabbing a few candy bars and adding them to his pile of stuff. 

You returned his smile with a little more enthusiasm than what was probably necessary, but you couldn’t help it. Alpha or not, the man was sex on two bowed legs, and you weren’t dead. 

Instead of speaking, when you had his total, you turned the screen to him so that he could read his total. This was your usual routine with the Alphas that came in the store; it was just safer.  

His piercing green eyes seemed to burn a little as he tilted his head to the side and looked at you, or as much of you as he could see through the counter. Something in his stare made you want to blush; even though Alphas and Betas were not compatible physically, you felt like he was sizing you up. You had no scent strong enough that he would be attracted to, and you weren’t anatomically able to take his knot, which from what you understand was necessary to fulfill his needs. 

You were 19 years old. If you were going to be anything other than a Beta by now you were positive you would have presented. You still had not, so the Alpha staring at you made you literally take a step back away from the counter, your heart rate spiking as hungry eyes watched you curiously, like he was noticing you for the first time even though you’d rang up his items a thousand times before. 

“What’s your name?” he grunts, and his baritone voice sends a shiver down your spine, landing somewhere deep in your stomach, making it do a flip of sorts. 

“Y/N,” you answer shortly, utterly unaccustomed to talking to Alphas. There was no one Alpha that you could recall that had ever spoken to you, and you had been working at this filling station since you were 16.

Your parents were killed by a demon when you were very small, and you were delivered to an Omega compound when you were only 12 by the man that saved your life. It was assumed you would present as an Omega because you came from what they all called a “pure” bloodline.  

Much to the community leaders disappointment you never presented. So they kicked you out on your ass to fend for yourself, and you were lucky to have landed this job, and the Omega owner let you sleep in the back part of the storehouse. 

Finding a place to live on your own as a beta, and at such a young one was virtually impossible, and you would have been dead by now if it wasn’t for her. You never told her about your past, and you never intended to, after all, who else in this twisted world would believe in demons.

The green-eyed Alpha leaned forward slightly, breathing in deeply, his nostrils flaring as he attempted to scent you from a distance, and you put your finger on the panic button just under the cigarette counter you were leaning against, ready to push it if he tried to cross the counter. Sure, you would probably be dead before the cops got there, but at least they would be able to find the security footage and maybe track him down. 

You didn’t know what triggered this behavior from him, he’d never done anything like this before, and you wondered if he had just scented the Omega that was previously here, and just thought it was you.

The Alpha placed a large hand on the counter, about to start making his way around it when the door dinged again, and a skinny Beta man you thought you’d never see again entered the store. 

“Dean! There you are? What’s taking so long buddy? Sam’s ready to get back to his Omega?” he said as he approached the green-eyed Alpha you now knew was named “Dean”, smiling as he noticed you standing behind the counter.

“Y/N? Little Y/N Y/L/N is that you?” he asked as he shoved the large Alpha aside, and leaned against the counter to talk to you. Earning himself a very disgruntled look from the Alpha and the Beta’s boldness. 

“Hey Garth, it’s been a while,” you said, smiling at him warmly. You had met Garth years ago when he showed up to the Omega community you were living at not long after you’d been dumped there, taking a few Omegas there for safety after he wrapped up a hunt in Salt Lake City. 

“No kidding! Look at you all grown up. What are you doing here?” he asked, totally ignoring Dean as his eyes narrowed, looking swiftly between yourself and Garth as if he was annoyed that he was missing something.

“Well, I never presented, so they marked me down as Beta when I was sixteen, I’ve been living and working here ever since. What are you doing here? There’s not another Demon around is there?” you asked, and before Garth could answer, Dean spoke up directly to Garth, who, for some reason, seemed completely unfazed by the large, and brooding Alpha leering at him.

“Wait a minute, what’s going on here? She knows about the life?” Dean said, pointing at you as if you were a piece of furniture, and you weren’t standing there at all. Typical Alpha male behavior, but you knew better than to call him out on it. 

“Yeah! A group of hunters saved her from a particularly nasty Demon when she wasn't but twelve, and dropped her off at the hunting Omega compound. Looks like that didn’t work out though.” Garth said, giving you an apologetic look. 

Dean turned his gaze to you, that same hungry look burning just below the surface as he took you in from head to toe. A deep growl low in his chest that made Garth burst into laughter, and you look at Garth as if he had finally lost his damn mind. 

“Just ignore Dean, he’s an old Alpha who’s on the edge of a rut for the first time in too long. His brother and his Omega just moved into their bunker up the road here, and it’s triggered his hormones again.” Garth said with an eye roll, totally ignoring Dean as his eyes widened, and he looked at Garth like he could rip his throat out with his teeth for divulging that little bit of information. 

“Come on Dean; we need to go, Sam’s gonna kill you if you wait any longer,” Garth said, grabbing the card from Dean’s pocket and throwing it on the counter for you to ring up his stuff. You quickly bagged his items, handed them to the Alpha along with his credit card as Garth blubbered on about something you weren’t even really listening to, doing all you could to ignore the burning, tingling feeling that the Alpha’s skin left on yours as your hand touched his. 

The rest of the day progressed much as every day would. You could have sworn you saw that black Impala he was driving when you closed up that night, but you thought you must be imagining things, and locked the door before making your way to your makeshift bedroom in the back of the warehouse. Falling into an uneasy sleep, that seemed to be haunted by green eyes. 

The next morning you trudged your way over to the front door to open up for the day, still rubbing your eyes and yawning widely. You didn’t see Dean until he pushed the door open almost on top of you before you could step back as if he was waiting on the door to open. You stumbled back out of his way in surprise, fully awake now. Dean said nothing, just came very close to you, scenting the air around you before tilting his head to look at you curiously. 

You didn’t speak, you didn’t move, hell you were too afraid to do anything but stand there holding on the counter next to the coffee pots. 

Leaning over your shoulder, Dean brushes his body against your own as he reaches behind you, and grabs a coffee cup, filling it with black coffee all while keeping you virtually pinned to the counter. His body moving over your much smaller frame made an involuntary shiver roll through your body as he pulled away from you, and made his way over to one of the small booth seats next to the window before making himself comfortable there. His green eyes followed your every move as you quickly made your way to hide behind the counter. 

Your entire body was shaking as you tried to get a grip on yourself, as well as your imagination that was running wild in your head. It was effectively putting all kinds of thoughts that shouldn’t be there, thoughts that were not only so far fetched they were laughable, but thoughts of Dean’s hands on your skin, thoughts of Dean’s powerful body moving above yours in a way that made you almost whimper. 

Shaking yourself,  you continue about your day, choosing to ignore the large Alpha once you have calmed down enough to move from behind the counter. Dean never left his booth except to go to the bathroom. He stayed there literally all day long, just watching your every move. Never speaking to you, never getting close to you again, just watching. When you closed that night, you had to finally speak directly to him, to get him out of there, even though you knew you weren’t supposed to address him without being addressed first. 

“Dean, I’m closing, you have to leave,” you tell him in a voice you hope sounded more confident than you felt. Dean said nothing, his green eyes racking over your body before he stands and leaves without so much as a word, and you lock the door quickly behind him.

The next week went on much of the same. Dean would be there as soon as the door unlocked. Thankfully you had learned to move when you opened the door. He’d take his seat in the booth after scenting you, then would stay there until you made him leave, just watching you. 

You knew Alphas could become possessive of Betas, it was rare, but it did happen. You also knew that possessive Alpha’s could be dangerous, and had the tendency to be violent towards the Betas they have become possessive over, or they could become brutal to people around them in general. 

Dean was an older Alpha. If you had to guess, he was in his early 40’s and unmated. Things like this happened when Alphas went unmated for too long. 

You tried to text Garth, but he didn’t answer, he was probably on a case somewhere. You knew Garth said that he was about to go into rut, and with Dean’s behavior as of late, you hoped that Garth was just joking. Cause a rut could mean he’d try and hurt you. 

The next day you didn’t see Dean all day long. You thought maybe he found something else to be focused on or obsessed with. That or Garth got your text, and alerted this Sam they were talking about to Dean’s strange behavior. Part of you was relieved, and part of you was disappointed. Sure, you knew you and Dean could never be a thing, and staring aside, he did make you feel a little safer when he was around, and he definitely made you blush every time he looked at you like he wanted to touch you. 

Three more days passed without Dean making an appearance, and you had all but gave up on ever seeing Dean again. You check to make sure everything is off before trudging your way towards the little bedroom you had made for yourself. Your mind on Dean, and not really on your surroundings, you almost miss the large man standing in your room when you turned your light off, almost, a possessive growl let you know you weren’t alone pretty quickly. 

The hair stood up on the back of your neck as you turned slowly to find Dean, standing in the middle of your room with nothing but a low hanging pair of sweats that were doing very little to hide his thick length that was straining against the fabric. 

Your core clenched around nothing, and a shiver ran through your body as you took in the Alpha, his broad shoulders and strong chest on full display as it rose and fell rapidly with each quickened breath, sweat prickling his skin as he stood in the dim light. His tattoo shines boldly on his chest,  you knew of as an anti possession tattoo from your time at the compound. You backed up and he took a step towards you, a deep purring coming from him as his lust blown eyes scanned your body. 

“Dean, you need to leave,” you tell him, knowing full well that wasn’t going to happen. He was in rut, and you were the object he’d chosen to fixate on, and now you were pretty sure he was going to kill you.

Dean, back you slowly towards your bed, growling low in his throat as his body came down over yours as you fell onto your bed. He was nuzzling his face deep in your neck, scenting you and purring as his teeth ran over your throat. 

“Dean, you need to stop, I’m not an Omega. We can’t do this, you will hurt me,” you beg him even though your body was screaming for the Alpha hovering over you, now nipping at the skin of your hroat.  

“Not an Omega, still mine. You want me, I can smell it,” he said as he ripped your shirt from your body as if the materially wasn’t made of anything at all. The cold air hitting your skin made you gasp, large hands roaming all the free skin as his mouth claimed yours dominating you easily. His tongue sliding over yours as his huge hands pulled your shorts and underwear from your body. He threw them to the floor before he discarded his own sweats. 

“Dean, think about this, I can’t take your knot, this isn’t going to do anything but frustrate you further,” you attempt to make him see reason, even though your body was arching into him as if he couldn’t get close enough, his thick cock sliding through your dripping folds, gathering as much of your slick as he could. Purring and licking at your throat as he did so.

Dean was huge, you had heard that Alphas were large, but Dean was so big that you weren’t sure he’d get in all the way. You’d only ever been with Betas before, and you were convinced that he was twice the size of any of them without his knot.

“Mine,” Dean growled against your skin as he pushed into you, fully seating himself inside of you in one thrust, surprising you. The stretching was almost painful: you had never felt so full in all of your life. Dean’s mouth fell open in an inhuman growl as his lips latched around your nipple, sucking and biting as his hips began to snap into yours. He pulled himself almost all the way out before fully penetrating you again. Each powerful thrust on the edge of pure bliss and too much. 

You were almost sure that you could practically scent him as he continued to pound himself into your body, over and over again hitting that stop deep down inside of you that no one had ever been able to reach before. Purrs and growls falling from his lips as teeth repeatedly grazed the same spot on your neck. You could feel the coil tightening in your stomach with each powerful thrust, and before long, you were coming undone around him. Dean continued to fuck you through it. Groaning and sucking a mark onto your shoulder as spots appeared before your vision. 

Your head lulled back as you came down from your high. Dean’s body continued to slam into your own. 

That’s when you felt it, the stinging pain that was the beginnings of his knot. You knew he was about to split you open, and you did everything you could to get him off of you, scratching, and biting seemed to only push him on. Possessive growls left his lips with each thrust into your abused heat.

“Dean, please stop, I can’t,” you begged him as you felt his knot start to swell further, and pain began to radiate through your body. Dean was too far gone, an animalistic look on his face as he quickened his pace. 

You screamed as his knot popped, locking the two of you together as he came, his teeth sank deep into the skin of your throat as your mouth fell open in a scream that never came out. Your vision goes black as indescribable pain radiated through your body. The last thing you remember was Dean purring above you as everything faded to black.

Time seemed to be moving at a strange pace after that. You would get flashes of what you only assumed could be reality because of the blinding pain radiating through our body. You could have sworn you heard Dean apologizing to you between whining noises as he carried you somewhere. Then there was the sound of the Impala starting, after that, you didn't know much. Except for pain, you knew pain because it felt like it was burning through every fiber of your being. 

When you woke up again, the pain was gone, but the first thing you saw was fiery red hair, making you jump, which caused pain to shoot through your body again.

“Easy there, dear, you’ve been through a lot; let’s not move around too quickly,” her thick accent and motherly voice seemed soothing to you, and you slowly tried to calm your breathing.

“Where am I? Who are you?” you asked, eyes shooting around the room that looked like an old infirmary. 

“You’re in the Men of Letters Bunker. Poor Dean brought you here after he almost killed you.” 

Your heart rate spiked up at the thought of Dean. You didn’t know if you were afraid of him, or more anxious to see him again. The whining sound he was making as he carried you to his car was still so clear in your ears, and even though he did this to you, something in you told you that he didn’t mean to do it. That he wasn’t in control, he would have never hurt you of his own free will. If so, he wouldn’t have brought you here, but instead left you there to die. 

“Where is Dean?” you asked her as she fussed over your neck bandages where Dean had bitten you. 

“He’s locked in his room until he is out of his rut, not by choice mind you, he’s not happy about being kept away from you. He should be out of it by the end of the day. Last I checked on him, and he will be happy to hear you're awake, the name’s Rowena by the way, “ she said as she walked over to the old book sitting at a table in the corner of the room. 

You watched as the older Omega woman flipped through the old book's pages in front of her, adding ingredients to the bowl sitting on the table next to her.

“Why did he do this to me?” you asked her just as the door opened and closed with Garth, and another very large Alpha entered the room with long brown hair.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Rowena here is the best witch in the business, and if there’s a way to solve this, she can.” Garth said as he flopped down at the foot of your bed. “This is Sam, by the way, Dean’s little brother.” 

Sam nodded politely at you before making his way over to Rowena. 

“What we don’t understand is why my brother tried to claim and knot a beta. He doesn’t understand it either. All we can get out of him is that you're his mate and that he needs to see you. I'm sure you don’t want that to happen, especially after what he did to you, so we’ve locked him in his room.” Sam said, his eyes barely leaving the book.

“I’ve heard of a lot of strange things, but I’ve never heard of an Alpha trying to claim and knot a beta as if she was an Omega, and then calling her his mate,” Garth said. 

“He’s been following me around for days now, and then he just showed up and…”

You were cut off by a banging on the door, followed by a loud whining, you recognized as Dean. Rowena’s eyes flashed a purple color, and she turned to smile at everyone in the room as the incessant whining and banging continued. 

“Don’t worry, he’s not getting through that door, you should rest Dear,” she told you as the room started to get fuzzy, you were sure she was the cause of your sudden drowsiness in attempt to keep you from further agitating Dean, but you didn’t have time to respond to her before you fell back into a deep sleep. 

------------------------------------

The next thing you remember is feeling warm, very warm, as if a body was pressed against yours. That’s what made your eyes snap open to see Dean’s worried gaze as he lay in the bed next to you, your body scooped up and pressed tight against his own, holding onto you as if he could protect you from all danger. 

Deep whines mixed with purrs filled the room as he nuzzled himself into you gently, scenting you deeply as if he could scent you.

“This is a Bad Idea,” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the room. He was clearly keeping his distance from the Alpha that was holding you. 

“He’s not going to hurt her, Sam,” Rowena said. Shifting very close to you, setting a bowl down next to you with strange ingredients inside. 

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I swear I would have never done that if I could have stopped, I would have, I never wanted to hurt you,” Dean mumbled, kissing your forehead gently as if you were some fragile thing. His large body all but covering your protectively as you fought against your groggy state. 

“We think we know what the problem is,” Garth said from somewhere behind Dean. “See all those years ago, that Demon must have done something to you, sort of like what Azazel did to Sam. You were an experiment. One that intended to turn Omega’s into Beta’s before they even presented. There are traces of the Omega gene in your blood. Crowley mentioned something about it a long time ago, but we didn’t know he was successful. The only explanation is that you were Dean’s true mate, and he can somehow still sense it, which is why he went almost feral and tried to claim you.” 

You could almost feel the anxiety rolling off of Dean’s body, and you instinctively nuzzled his hold, earning purrs of approval from the Alpha above you. 

“See that, she senses he’s nervous, and she’s trying to comfort him. She’s his Omega, I just got to get the spell right to fix this,” Rowena said, shuffling around in her bowl.

“So what are you all gonna do to me?” you asked as Dean tightened the covers around the both of you, pulling you deeper into him.

“We’re going to turn you into an Omega,” Sam says, handing Rowena a strange vile of something to add to her bowl. 

You look up at Dean nervously, and he places his lips softly on yours in a chaste kiss. 

“It’s gonna be okay; I wouldn’t let them do this if it was going to hurt you. They’re just gonna fix what that sick asshole did to you all those years ago.” Dean said, his deep baritone voice was comforting to you, and you could swear that you could almost feel the bond between the two of you, and you were still technically a beta. 

“Okay, dear, we’re ready,” Rowena said as she placed the bowl on the bed next to you, and you buried your face in Dean’s throat. 

You could hear her making incantations, and things first. Then a strange tingling started to stretch through your body. Scents became stronger; you could smell Dean first. His own mouth-watering musk, mixed with evergreen and gunpowder, then Sam, and Rowena.

Your skin started to heat up as Dean’s body tense above your own, purring as Rowena ended her spell. Pressing his nose to your neck he scented you deeply. 

Your body felt new, refreshed even. The soreness that was there from what Dean had done was gone, and you could feel everything Dean felt. Every emotion, every fear. It was all so overwhelming. Reaching up, you pulled the bandage away from your neck, revealing the mark Dean had left there. His claim still shines against your skin, as even though you knew he thought it would be gone.

Rowena clapped her hands behind you as Dean ran his tongue along the claiming mark on your neck, and slick started to gather at your thighs in response to your Alpha. “Well, my job here is done. Call me if you all need me, oh and enjoy, dear,” she said, patting Dean on the shoulder as she made her way to the door. Dean picked you up bridal style, making his way towards his room that would now be your room.

Not stopping until he had you laid down on his bed, lying down close to you before pulling you into him, purring as he nipped at the skin of your throat. 

“My Omega,” he purred against you, an overwhelming feeling of peace washing over you with each touch of his large, warm hand against your small frame.

“My Alpha,” you tell him, nuzzling closer to him, letting his scent wash over you in waves. 

“I thought you didn’t exist, I thought I was doomed to die alone. Then when I found you, I thought I had lost my mind. Then when I came to myself in your room… I’m so sorry, Omega, I will never hurt you again,” Dean said, his voice cracking as he pulled his clothes from his body, throwing them to the floor as you did the same. Desperate to feel your Alpha’s skin on yours. Heat roars through your veins as his body wrapped around yours, his half-hard cock resting on your thighs as he settles himself to lay between your legs. 

You place your small hand on his chest as his lips claim yours in an intoxicating kiss before rolling himself on top of you. Grinding his hips against yours, rutting his hardening length against your clit as the first wave of cramps rolls through your stomach of your first heat. Slick gushing over him as he pressed himself against your entrance, knowing what your body needed, and ready to give it to you. The foreplay could come later; right now, he just needed to be as close to you as possible.

“It’s okay Alpha. In a lot of ways, I’m so glad you found me. I was sleeping in a storage closet for fucks sakes.”

Dean growled as he entered you slowly in one smooth thrust. The amount of slick your body was creating made a smooth entrance, and he held himself still inside of you as his lips claimed yours. Your walls fluttering around his throbbing length as your body welcomed him like a missing piece that finally was in place after being lost for so long. Both of you groaned in relief as he filled you.

“Gonna take care of you Omega, no more sleeping in storage rooms. I can’t give you much, but I can give you all that I have, and I can protect you with everything in me.” 

Dean hips snap into you in a rough thrust as his instincts begin to take over, and your heat starts to take the forefront of his attention.

“I’m all yours Alpha. Always will be.”

There was a lot you still had to learn about being an Omega, and you still didn't even know your Alpha really, but you knew one thing, you were so glad he found you. Pain and all, it was worth it.

Fate always finds a way, even with everything against you. In the most unlikely places, even after you gave up hope. That’s one lesson you will never forget. 

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Trouble Will Come

11.6k || ao3

Ever since TK had been caught up in Austin's latest serial bomber's attack, Carlos has thrown himself into looking for the mysterious bomber. He had watched his boyfriend almost die at the hands of this maniac, and he needed to do everything he could to make sure that never happened again. It makes him feel better, helps to counteract the helplessness he felt in that moment.

What he didn't expect was to actually find him, and to be trapped with him and a bomb in another abandoned factory. Now he just wants to make it out alive, because he is pretty sure TK will find a way to kill him if he doesn't.

--- Sequel to Trouble Will Not Take Me

I ended up rereading this today and decided to repost it because I don’t think I ever got around to making a masterpost of the chapters when I first finished it and just because I really like it and we could always use some more Carlos fic. So enjoy this shameless bit of self-promotion and a reminder of an older fic in lieu of anything new since I am still fighting my way through some writer’s block. 

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“Wow,” Mya deadpanned as they pulled up to a dilapidated abandoned factory building, “you take me to the nicest places.”

“Next time we have a serial bomber I’ll be sure to mention to him that he should aim for sites that are more aesthetically pleasing,” Carlos replies drily, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

“I’m just saying, would it kill us to not have chosen the place on the list most likely to give us tetanus by just looking at it?”

Carlos merely shrugged in response because honestly, he couldn’t disagree with her. It had been just over two weeks since Austin’s most recent serial bomber made his big splash by blowing up a building with firefighters inside. It had been only been two years since the last bomber and everyone was on edge. The memory was fresh enough that the majority of the police department had been there, had watched the last bombings unfold. To see it happen again didn’t sit well with anyone, especially Carlos. He had vivid memories of the last time, of the fear and uncertainty that had reigned over the city. This time he had his own fears to add to the pile; his own nightmares to haunt his days. It had been the 126 who responded to that call, it had been TK and Marjan trapped inside the last building when it exploded. That had been 15 days ago, and every day since APD had poured a significant amount of its resources into identifying likely targets and patrolling them regularly. Carlos had been volunteering for every shift - this case was personal.

He still saw TK’s limp and battered body being pulled out of the collapsed building every night when he closed his eyes. The first few nights, when TK had still been in the hospital, he had resisted going home because he knew he wouldn’t sleep anyways. Even now, weeks later, he still had those dreams; still woke up in a cold sweat. Only the presence of TK besides him, soundly sleeping and breathing and alive was enough to calm him. So yeah, maybe he was taking this one a little personally.

Fortunately, Mya was completely on board. She had been right by his side the entire way: in the waiting room of the hospital, in their sergeant’s office volunteering for extra shifts. He hadn’t even had to ask her. The first day he showed up to work, once TK had finally been out of the woods, she had materialized in front of his desk. “They’re going after this guy,” she had said, “I want in and I am sure you do too.” He had barely had time to nod before she was leading them to the sergeant’s office.

It was times like this he was so grateful for his partner. She was a force to be reckoned with on a regular day, and she cared just as much about TK as she did for Carlos. To say she was feeling spiteful would be an understatement: “If some asshole bomber thinks they’re going to almost crush my friend to death and get away with it, they’ve got another thing coming,” she had said fiercely.

Carlos almost felt bad for this mysterious bomber - almost.

That didn’t change the fact that this was the 12th abandoned building they had checked out this week and while it certainly wasn’t the gnarliest building they had been in, it wasn’t winning any home and garden awards.

“Just think,” he said as they drew closer, “if we ever decide to give up this whole cop thing, we’ll have a jump start on real estate to enter the haunted house business.”

“I know you’re joking, but that’s honestly not the worst idea I’ve heard.”

Carlos shook his head fondly, “You ready to do this, again?”

Mya nodded, “Twelfth time’s the charm, right?”

“We can only hope,” he muttered as the entered the structure. “Structure” may even be a generous term for it; there didn’t seem to be much standing. They looked around the entry: it appeared to have been a lobby of some sort at one time and it opened up into two diverting hallways. “Looks like we’re splitting up. Do you want left or right?”  

“I’m feeling left today. Be careful though, will you? Wouldn’t want you getting into trouble without your partner to watch your back.”

“You too. Radio if you find anything?”

“Always.” With a quick salute, Mya was off, disappearing down the hallway to the left. Carlos quickly followed suit and entered the other hallway. It was dark and quiet. He pulled out his flashlight and looked around. It looked like your typical, nondescript, dilapidated hallway - just like the other eleven they had searched that week.

Still, it warranted a cursory investigation. If only to cross it off the list, to eliminate another possible location. The reigning theory at the precinct currently is that the bomber had been scared off by what had happened with the last bomb. The only casualties of the first four bombs had been the buildings themselves. Never before had there been victims of the bombs, and only luck and talented medical professionals had prevented there from being any fatalities. Normally Carlos would have been grateful and left it at that. But TK had almost died - Carlos had thought he was dead for several heart-stopping moments. He wasn’t over it, and he was bringing that baggage with him. Logically he knew that he should have recused himself from the case, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed to be a part of this, he needed to know he had done everything he could to bring this maniac to justice.

It was coping, he supposed.

He continued down the hallway, shining his flashlight into the dark corners. He moved carefully, keeping his eyes moving and his ears open. He froze as he heard a sound up ahead. It was probably just an animal, or a piece of the crumbling ceiling falling, but Carlos was still on high alert as he turned the next corner. He frowned when he saw a weak light cutting through the surrounding darkness. He moved towards it. It was a lantern, shining dimly on a makeshift table. The rest of the table was covered with paper and blueprints. Carlos could feel his heart rate increase - this was it. This was the work of the bomber they had been tracking. He went to reach for his radio, to tell Mya that he had found something, to tell her they had the guy and to get here now; but it was then that he realized he had made his first mistake.

“What are you doing here?” a harsh voice behind him demanded.

Carlos froze - hand hovering just above his radio. He slowly turned around to find a middle-aged man with a scraggly beard, wild eyes, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and a gun pointed at him. He slowly raised his hands up in surrender, even as he cursed at himself.

He had forgotten to clear the room. He had made a rookie mistake and had let this guy get the drop on him. Now there was a gun pointed at him and he was in deep shit.

He spoke slowly and evenly, even as his heart thudded in his chest, “My name is Carlos Reyes, I am an officer with the Austin Police department. I was investigating a report of suspicious activity at this location.”

The man continued to glare at him, “Are you here alone?”

Carlos shook his head, “No, my partner is here too. She’s on the other side of the building.”

The man didn’t say anything to that, he simply looked around Carlos, towards the table. Carlos cursed himself silently. He had moved the papers and blueprints around; it was clear that he had seen them. The man clearly came to the same conclusion as his expression had grown darker as he looked back at Carlos. There was silence for a few long moments before he spoke, “This needs to be done, you can’t stop me.”

Carlos swallowed, but took care to keep his expression even, “Why does it need to be done?”

The man scowled at him, “No questions. Just, keep quiet until I figure out what to do with you.”

Carlos nodded, and the room lapsed into silence. His mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this that didn’t involve a bullet in his head. He didn’t know if this man would actually use that gun he had pointed at Carlos, but it was safer to assume that he would - which took all plans of action off the table. Trying to talk him down would be his best bet, but he was still too on edge from the unexpected appearance of Carlos to start pressing his luck by breaking his mandated silence so soon.

They stood at an impasse, silently staring each other down until the sound of Carlos’s radio sliced through the heavy silence.

His radio beeped and Mya’s voice broke the tense silence, “I just finished my sweep, a whole lot of nothing - again. I’m heading back to the entrance - you done yet?”

Carlos didn’t move. He maintained his eye contact with the strange man, and spoke slowly, “That’s my partner; she’s wondering where I am. If she doesn’t hear from me she’s going to start looking and then you’ll have two of us messing up your plans. Can I respond to her?”

“Tell her to leave.”

“Okay, I’m reaching for my radio to do that,” Carlos slowly lowered his right hand to reach for his radio, heart hammering in his chest. He switched it on and responded, taking care to make sure that his voice was even, “Negative Officer Esquilin, proceed to the next location without me.”

He released the button and took a deep breath. He desperately hoped that she would be able to read between the lines. Somewhere between the formality and the fact that there was no next location, he had faith she’d figure it out. She was smarter than he was, after all.

When her response came, it was much more clipped than usual, “Please confirm last transmission Officer Reyes, you will be staying on scene?”

“Affirmative, Officer Esquilin.”

“Has there been any progress on our current objective?”

Carlos looked back up at the man in front of him, “Affirmative.”

There was a pause, a several second delay before Mya spoke again. When she did, she had dropped the pretense, “Carlos Reyes, you do not get to do something stupid without me.”

“Just get out of here, please.”

“I am not going anywhere! If you think for one second I am going to leave you behind you have clearly not been paying attention!”

The man in front of him put out his hand, “that’s enough, hand it over.”

Carlos clenched his radio one more time, “I’m sorry, Mya.”

Then he unstrapped his radio and tossed it to the other man. Even as it sailed across the room, he could still hear Mya’s voice coming through it, calling him all sorts of things. Her words were jumbled, but heavy with fear.

“Reyes if you die on me I swear to god I’m going to—“

Whatever threat she was making was cut off by a foot smashing his radio.

“I can’t have all that noise,” the other man said irritability, “I have to focus.”

He slid the duffel bag off his shoulder onto the ground between them. He slid down the zipper and pulled it open,  revealing a mess of wires and mechanics that Carlos could only assume was a bomb.

Maybe it wasn’t but given how today was going, he wasn’t too hopeful.  

Well, he thought wryly as he stood in a crumbling room of an abandoned building with a gun leveled at his chest; at least he had found the bomber.

[read the rest on ao3!]

[anightflower]

Come and Find Me Chapter 4: The Andrew Curtis Case

Guys I am so sorry this took so long. On top of school kicking my ass, I had to rewrite and reedit this chapter several times until I got to one that I deemed worthy. I am going to try and post Chapter Five early for you guys if I can. 

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Rape, Abuse

Masterlist 

Spencer glanced around the room at all the police officers assembled. He cleared his throat. 

“The Unsub is a white male in his late 20s to mid-30s. He is a man with an average build and a friendly face, someone who women would not pose as a threat.”

“Since there were no signs of forced entry, we believe he’s posing as someone who women would let into their house. Classic cases of this include maintenance men there to check up on things, someone who needs help after their car broke down, or a similar case like that.” Emily explained. “This is a man who fakes confidence, but in reality views himself as inadequate in some way, he knows he can’t fight off another man, so he chooses women who live alone and are essentially defenseless.” 

“Yet, he hates that they are successful enough to support themselves or that they have any sort of power.” Morgan chimed in.

“He clearly was cheated on or had some sort of marital issue that caused him to spiral into this spree. He is a sexual sadist projecting his partner onto the women he attacks, that’s why he chokes them, watching the life drain from their eyes sparks something in him and gives him a sense of power. That is also why he rapes his victims, he loves the idea that he is all powerful and they are helpless.” Hotch explained. 

Spencer swallowed, “Comparing his last four victims it seems his type is 20-30 year old females with (Y/C/H) and (Y/C/E).” 

Which coincidentally looks like the love of my life. Spencer thought, repressing a shudder.

________________________________________________________________

Spencer starred in shock at the scene around him. He was just finishing up the geographical profile, when they had received a call about yet another body. 

Her empty bulking eyes stared up at the ceiling, her body was beaten, cut, and bruised. 

“Strangulation marks on her neck, multiple stab wounds and injuries, this looks like our unsub.” Emily resisted the urge to shudder. 

“Man, whoever cheated on this guy, must have really broken him.” Morgan mused, looking around at the bloody scribblings on the wall. 

Spencer knew that if they tested the blood on the wall, it would match the victims. He looked at the frames on the wall, trying to ignore the blood that seemed to coat everything. The victim had her diploma hung up and multiple pictures of her smiling with family or friends. Spencer stared hard at the name on the diploma; Adria Winston.

It scared Spencer how easily he could see you in this woman’s place. Injured, dying, pleading for him, for anyone to save you-

“Reid. Reid, are you alright?” Morgan clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder, drawing him back to the present. 

Spencer shook himself out of his dazed state. “Yeah, uh I just need to step out for a second.” He said, pushing past Morgan and making his way outside Adria’s house. He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, it was late, so you would most likely be asleep, but-

You picked up on the third ring. “Hi baby, are you alright?” Spencer bit back a smile at the sleepiness in your voice.

“Not really, but I just really needed to hear your voice. How is Ohio?” Spencer asked, trying to distract himself from what he just saw. You could tell, but you played along with it. 

“Not too bad, whoever designed the Google lounge has nothing on me.” You joked. 

“Well, we already knew that.” Spencer smiled. 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe some of the cool stuff I found, I’m telling you if the employees complain about these amazing comfy chairs I got for their break room, I am totally coming back and stealing all 22 of them for my apartment.” You said enthusiastically. “They're perfect for reading in Spence, I’m telling you, you would love them.” 

Spencer let out a little laugh, “I’m sure they are. We will have to see if we can find some, but I don’t think 22 will fit in either of our apartments.” 

“I suppose you’re right” You sighed dramatically, but then took a more serious tone of voice. “Are you alright baby?” 

Spencer’s chest tightened at your worried tone of voice. “There’s a sick selfish part of me that is so glad that you aren’t here (Y/N). All of these girls look so much like you-” Spencer paused, swallowing back tears. “I just am so glad you are safe, I don’t think I could focus as well on this case if I knew you could possibly be in danger.” 

“Aw Spencer, I am so sorry baby. You aren’t sick or selfish for wanting me to be safe, everyone focuses on the safety of those they love, it’s only human. I know you are going to catch this guy, you are the most brilliant man and agent I have ever met. Just don’t tell your team I said that, I don’t want a bad reputation before they even meet me.” You teased, trying to lighten his dark mood. 

Spencer let out a small laugh and sniffled. “Trust me the team is going to love you. We will have to figure out when you can meet them, but I definitely want to wait until things settle down a bit here.” 

There was silence on your end for a second. “Listen Spence, I can stay here a bit longer if it will help you focus, but when I come home I am taking self-defense classes and such. I want you to have a sane mind knowing that your girlfriend actually can handle herself. I honestly think it will help me keep sane too, after hearing everything about this case.” 

Spencer heart skipped a beat, as much as he wanted you safe and sound, he also needed to hold you in his arms to keep his sanity. But ultimately you were the one who should lead your life, not Spencer.  “I appreciate you considering me, but I want the ultimate decision to be made by you Princess, I trust your judgement and I don’t want you living your life based on my fear.” 

You breath caught in your throat at the sentiment. “I love you Spencer Reid.” 

Spencer could have sworn his heart stopped. The two of you hadn’t said I love you yet. Part of him wished it was in person, but just hearing you say it, meant the world to him. “I love you more (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

So help him god, Spencer would catch whoever this unsub was and put him away, so you could come home to a safer city. 

________________________________________________________________

“You know what strikes me as funny?” Emily asked, looking at the crime scene photos. 

The room was silent, waiting to hear what she had to say. 

“Each of these unsubs reported strange gifts and letters being sent to their home. The police had thought it was nothing, but now I am thinking that maybe this could be a connection. I mean think about it, didn’t you guys notice that each victim received a gift box wrapped the exact same way?” 

Morgan nodded. “Yeah they had the white box with the red bow-”

Spencer chimed in, “Red typically symbolizes love and infatuation, but in this case it was the unsub’s warning, red meant war or violence was about to come upon this victim.” 

“Reid and JJ I want you to talk to the officers and get the reports these women filed for harassment, I think we are missing a connection.” Hotch ordered. 

An hour or so later they had that connection.  

“All of the victims received their gifts from a delivery service called ‘Special Delivery.’” JJ explained to everyone. 

“Well it seems we have to pay them a visit.” Hotch said. 

________________________________________________________________

Special Delivery was a small Ma and Pa store, located just a couple blocks from Ava’s coffee shop. Spencer debated on stopping in to check in with her and maybe grab the team coffee. 

Spencer had quickly taken a liking to Ava, not only because he had called him your “sexy superhero boyfriend,” but because she was a reliable friend to you, one who always managed to bring a smile to your face. She reminded Spencer of a more wild Emily, in the best way possible.

Emily stopped outside the storefront window, glancing at the display of chocolates, gift baskets, and jewelry. “Why is it always the cute small places that get ruined? Can’t it be one of those big corporate offices that fuck over their employees instead?” 

Spencer huffed a laugh. 

As they entered the store, the bell let out a delicate twinkle. Causing a silver-streaked brunette to pop out from the back of the store. Her round face held a warm smile as she approached them. 

“Hello dears! What can I do for you?” She asked as she excitedly clasped her hands together.

“Hello Mrs. Ellison, my name is SSA Prentiss and this is Dr. Reid, we had a few questions for you.” Emily said gently, flashing her badge to the woman. 

The woman's smile dimmed a bit, “Oh, uh of course, is everything alright?” 

“Mrs. Ellison I am sure you’ve heard of the recent tragedies-” Emily began, 

“Oh yes, I’ve been keeping up with the news, it’s just dreadful that something so horrible could happen so close to home. You see these things in movies or in other places, but you just never expect them to happen right near you.” Mrs. Ellison said sorrowfully, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“Mrs. Ellison, I am afraid everyone of these victims received several deliveries from your shop. Each was wrapped exactly the same, white box, red bow, does this ring any bells for you?” Spencer asked, cutting to the chase. 

“Well dear, it is Valentine season, red, pink, and white are the typical go to colors.” She shrugged. 

“Do you have any regulars? He would have each gift he bought wrapped the exact same way? He would seem friendly, but would be on the quieter side?” Emily asked, attempting to prod the older woman’s memory. 

“I’m afraid none of that is ringing any bells dear, I am so sorry.” Mrs. Ellison said apologetically. 

“Do you have any other employees? Or do you run this place all by yourself?” Spencer asked. 

Mrs. Ellison, let out a small laugh, “Oh goodness me, no. I get so many orders, I could never do it by myself. I previously had three employees, Jess, Remy, and Andrew, but I had to fire Andrew when I found him stealing from our stock. It was a shame too, he was a hardworking boy, but I’m afraid he just fell apart after his wife left him.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a quick glance. “Do you happen to know why his wife left him?” Spencer asked, his heart picking up speed. 

“Oh it's not my business to share-” Mrs. Ellison hesitated. 

“Please Mrs. Ellison, this could be crucial information.” Emily urged her. 

Mrs. Ellison let out a sigh. “That horrible girl cheated on him. I just couldn’t understand it either, Drew was such a doting gentleman to her, it simply didn’t make sense.” 

“Do you still have his contact information? His address?” 

“Why of course, but you couldn’t possibly think he has anything to do with this-” Mrs. Ellison began, making her way to behind the counter to grab a binder. She looked up worried when Spencer and Emily didn’t answer right away. “Do you?” She urged. 

“It’s quite possible he had nothing to do with it, we just need to follow through with every angle.” Emily quickly explained. 

“Of course.” Mrs. Ellison said, but her hands slightly shook as she opened up her binder to get Andrew’s address. 

________________________________________________________________

“Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, open up.” Hotch hollered from outside the door. There was no response. Hotch looked to his team to make sure they were ready, then kicked in the door. 

As the team checked different rooms, several calls of “Clear!” echoed throughout the house. Curtis was not there. 

Morgan made his way to the basement and swallowed back a gag. “Hotch! You better come see this.” 

Guns at the ready, Spencer, Hotch, Rossi, and Emily, made their way down to Morgan. 

“What the hell.” Emily huffed as they all beheld the horrific sight before them. 

It was a girl, for sure. She had the same mutilated marks as far as they could tell, but her body was decently decayed. 

“He’s displaying her like a trophy.” Spencer observed. “He props her up naked and makes sure her wounds are fully on display to remind him what he did.”

“There’s more trophies over here.” Rossi said in disgust, gesturing to a shelf full of different valuables. 

“He’s sick.” Morgan hissed. 

“We need a med team down here to remove a body. As soon as it’s IDed we need to know and alert any next of kin.” Hotch ordered into his earpiece. 

Rossi put on a glove and began to go through the other trophies for evidence. “I’ll talk to the victims families and see if any of them recognize these items.” 

Morgan dialed up Garcia. 

“Speak and be heard, the all-knowing goddess listens.” 

“Hey baby girl, I need you to look up any missing person’s reports from around this area. The victim has (y/c/h) and (y/c/e). She fits our victimology to a t, but we need to figure out who she is.”

“I’m on it.” Garcia said. 

“And Garcia,” Hotch said, stopping her before she hung up. “I need you to find a license plate for Andrew Curtis. Also check to see if he rents or owns any other property, he’s currently not at his home and it is too close to other buildings for his victims to not be heard.” 

“You got it. Talk soon.” She said, hanging up. 

About half an hour later Garcia got back to them. “Curtis drives a 2003 silver sedan with the license plate 637-IRT. I also found that he rents a small storage unit that’s a 20 minute drive in a more secluded part of town. I am sending the address to you guys now.” 

“Thanks Garcia.” Hotch said. He turned to JJ “I need you to get an APB on Curtis. I want you to warn the public to keep an eye out for him.” 

JJ nodded and rushed off with her phone. Hotch looked to the rest of the team. “Everyone else, vests on, we are heading to that storage unit.”

________________________________________________________________

“Fuck Drew, what are we going to do?” The boy asked as he looked at the screen projecting a news report on Andrew Curtis.

“Well, it might be the end for me, little brother, but I have you as my legacy. They don’t have a clue that you are even involved, so I need you to get out of here.”

“No, no, no. I am not going to leave you!” The Boy cried, tears streaming down his face. 

Drew huffed a laugh. “Now, now, little bro. It isn’t the time for tears. I’ve taught you everything you need to know. You need to get your girl from that Doctor remember?”

“How am I supposed to do this without you?” The Boy asked, fear filled his voice. 

“Your time will come. You have to be a man about this. You have the skills now and you have our little videos to watch. Your own little tutorial to pluck that girl right out of Dr. Reid’s hands. You need to hide those and hide them well. Promise me you won’t fuck up your chance.” Drew growled. 

The Boy whimpered and Drew smacked him. “Promise me!” He yelled. 

“I promise.” The Boy sobbed, grabbing at his pained cheek.

Drew’s face softened and he gave the boy a smile. “Good, now get out of here legacy and make me proud. I expect to see you on the news someday.” He winked. “You remember our code right?” 

The boy nodded. 

“Then this isn’t the last time we will speak to each other. Now get the fuck out of here, I already fucked with the security footage, so they won’t even know you were here.” Drew explained, pushing the boy out towards the parking lot. 

The Boy’s heart broke as he rushed from his mentor, not only because he knew he would never be able to see Drew in person after this, but because he knew that he would never be able to ruin the 6th victim. The sixth whore that was tied up in the trunk of Drew’s car. 

________________________________________________________________

The girl sobs were muffled by her gag. Drew pulled on her hair harder as he dragged her to the storage unit. He knew he didn’t have much time left, so he might as well let every moment count huh?

The girl’s sobs turned into terrified screams as she beheld the bloodied storage room and the various knives and devices within it. 

“Shut up you stupid bitch.” He growled in her ear.

The girl whimpered something and Drew ripped away her gag. 

“Please.” She begged and Drew simply laughed as he lugged her limp body towards the table in the center of the room.

“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I have a family who cares about me-” She pleaded. 

“Whores don’t have families. Whores have nothing. They just cheat and lie and move onto the next guy. Huh Madelyn?” He growled as he threw her up onto the table.

“My name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily-” The girl sobbed.

“Enough of your lies Madelyn. You stupid slut. You couldn’t stay loyal could you?” Drew snarled, hitting the girl’s head hard against the table.

She sobbed harder. “My name is Emily, my name isn’t Madelyn, please it’s Emily.” She babbled.

“SHUT UP.” He said, hitting her again.

Suddenly a shout rose up from outside the storage unit door. “Andrew Curtis, this is the FBI, come out with your hands raised.” 

The smile that crept across Drew’s face was wicked. He grabbed a knife and pulled Emily against him. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” He whispered in her ear. 

“Andrew Curtis, this is your last warning. We will come in armed and ready.” Hotch’s voice shouted again. 

Drew remained where he was, the sick smile on his face, as tears streamed down Emily’s face. 

When the door burst open and several agents poured in, he did not flinch or cower away. 

“Drop the weapon.” Hotch boomed, his voice echoing in the space.

“Now, now, now, where would the fun be in that?” Drew mocked. 

“Put down the weapon, Curtis and let the girl go.” Rossi ordered. 

Drew’s eyes looked past all of them and fell on Spencer, he bit back a smile.

“Come any closer and I’ll slice her throat.” Drew threatened, pressing the knife harder to Emily’s throat, a few drops of crimson blossomed and crept down her neck.

“If you don’t let Miss Bloise go, then we will be forced to take action Mr. Curtis.” Rossi explained.

Drew’s hand shook, god he wanted them to come at him, but then he thought of his mentee, how lost he would be without him. 

He lowered the knife and let the girl go. She ran towards one of the agents, tears mixing with the blood that ran down her neck. JJ wrapped an arm around the girl and guided her out. 

Morgan rushed to Curtis, pinning him down against the floor and putting cuffs around his wrists. 

Though they had caught him, Hotch felt uneasy. Curtis had given in too quickly. The greasy smile across Curtis’s face as Morgan led him away only heightened his suspicions. 

________________________________________________________________

The team sat outside the interrogation room, watching as Hotch tried to get a rise out of Andrew Curtis. He and JJ had gone in; Hotch to be the intimidator, JJ to be the trigger as she looked a bit similar to the victims. So far the man had just sat in the chair, his arms crossed, silent and smirking. It had been almost an hour and they had gotten nothing out of him.

Spencer felt as though Curtis could see him through the two-way mirror. 

“You know Agent,” Curtis began. “I know you’re trying to be the big bad wolf, but it’s not going to work, I’ve dealt with worse than you.”

Morgan looked about ready to kick in the door and beat the confession out of Andrew. 

“Send me in, I’ll get an answer out of him” Morgan growled, cracking his knuckles.

“Unfortunately, the confession won’t stand up in court if they found out you beat the shit out of Curtis to get it” Emily smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

“The Court doesn’t have to know” Morgan argued, making Emily scoff. 

“Focus kids.” Rossi ordered sternly, but Spencer could tell he was fighting back a small smile. 

Hotch and JJ came out of the room. Hotch looked to Spencer, his expression grim. “He wants to talk with you.”

Spencer looked at Hotch confused, “Why me?”

“He’s ‘fascinated by you’” Hotch explained. “I know it’s not ideal and you don’t have to go in their Reid, but-”

“But, we could get the confession out of him. We have the charges for Miss Bloise, but we want to pin him for the other girls he attacked. I understand and I will do it.” Spencer said. 

“I’ll stick with you Spence” JJ reassured, putting a hand on his arm. “You won’t be alone.”

Spencer nodded, sending a grateful look JJ’s way as they made their way into the interrogation room.

“Ah the elusive doctor. So glad you could join us.” Drew purred.

Spencer said nothing as he moved to sit down across from Curtis.

“-your wife left you Mr. Curtis, is that correct?” JJ asked.

“Please doll, a pretty thing like you can call me Drew” Drew said, looking JJ up and down. 

Spencer’s fists clenched in anger as he felt JJ tense next to him.

“The file says she left you after she cheated on you. Did you have medical issues Mr. Curtis?” Reid asked, drawing Curtis’s attention to him. “Did you struggle to please your own wife?”

Curtis growled. “That stupid whore has nothing to do with this.” 

“Ah so you couldn’t and when she left you for a man that could, you projected your anger for her onto these women. You were angry at them for being confident and independent, much like your wife who knew what she wanted.” Spencer said, sitting back in his chair with a faint smirk. 

“These women were nothing but whores, willing to let men in like me. They wanted someone so badly they let a stranger into their house.” Curtis hissed.

“Mr. Curtis, you were a delivery man. They didn’t let you in, you forced your way into their homes didn’t you?”

“If a man needs a glass of water, can’t he let himself in?” Curtis purred. “They turned their backs on a predator and got what was coming to them.” 

“Did you attack them in their homes?” JJ asked. 

“Only to make them quiet, couldn’t have the neighbors hear them scream.” Curtis laughed and Spencer resisted the urge to choke out the man across from him. 

They placed images of all of his supposed victim’s before him. “Do you recognize these women?” JJ asked, her voice harsh and cold. 

Curtis looked over all of them, silent for a couple minutes. Spencer’s patience thinned. “Well?” 

Curtis pointed to an image of Lila Jennings, the third victim of this case. “She screamed the loudest.” He pointed to another image. “She was a hot piece of ass, it was fun breaking her.” 

“Enough.” Spencer hissed. 

“In short Doctor, yes I do recognize these women. Every single one of them and no I do not regret a single one.”

Without saying another word, JJ and Spencer got up, taking the files with them. Curtis’s laughter rang out behind them as they shut the door.

________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST

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[the-inc-den]

I Think This Could Be the Start of a New Life (The Inc Den)

A/N: Oh hi 👋🏻. Here’s the first piece I guess. Figured I’d get everyone introduced. I hope you enjoy them because I love everyone dearly. so yeah.

Warnings: None? swearing I guess, but this is SFW

Summary: River would really like to stop being sexiled from their apartment.

Word Count: 4.5K

River was lounging on the couch in the main space of their apartment waiting for their roommate Lacey to come out of the bathroom. Literally lounging as one foot was propped up on the couch while the other stayed on the floor, careful to keep their still shoe wearing foot off the couch lest Nox or Lacey throw a fit. They were scrolling through their phone and half answering texts from their work group chat, Al and Roger debating pop music influences with commentary chimed in from time to time. They tapped their foot to some mental tune they were playing to keep themselves occupied, probably something that was on Drake’s playlist that they’d heard at work. River had to wonder if Nox was in the room and waiting for them to leave before coming out, but they were probably still curled up under Lacey’s bed. River threw their head back and let out a groan as they looked at the clock on their phone, Lacey’d been getting ready for nearly an hour.

“Lace, c’mon, do you want to get to Labyrinth before last call or not?” They called. They hardly remembered why they had agreed to accompany Lacey on her night out, she was just going to meet up with Scott and then sexile River from the apartment. Then River would have to call up Drake or Roger or Al and crash on their couch and they weren’t super keen on doing that tonight, their hips still hurt from the last time they’d had to. Lacey exited the bathroom with her red hair curled and her makeup done to perfection which was really impressive, River just wished it didn’t take an hour to do.

“Please tell me you’re not going out like that?” Lacey pleaded. River looked over their outfit: ripped jeans, Converse that had seen better days if the faded canvas and scuffed bottoms were any indication, and their “River’s Fight School” t-shirt that Lacey had made them after the “worst breakup she’d ever experienced” that had ended with River threatening to kick the ex’s ass. The outfit had been what they’d worn on shift and it’d been fine, mostly because unlike Roger, they never dressed to impress at the shop.

“I am, because may I remind you I’m not keen on impressing anyone. Besides, I wanna sleep comfortably on whatever couch I have to end up crashing on.” River replied with only a dash of bitterness sneaking into their tone. Lacey rolled her eyes and slid her boots on.

“Fine, fine, c’mon,” Lacey said. River stood up and grabbed their jacket off the couch arm.

“Nox, don’t tear the apartment apart!” River shouted into the apartment as they closed the door. Their typical parting words to the shadow monster who lived under Lacey’s bed.

The duo walked to Labyrinth with little fuss, minus Lacey occasionally twirling her hair around her finger. After six years of friendship, River knew that she was nervous about something.

“Are you and Scott okay?” They asked.

“What? Oh! Yeah, totally, work’s just been a pain and I’m… wait what —“

“You’re twirling your hair,” River said, miming the gesture by twisting their bangs out of their face. Lacey looked over at her finger and immediately dropped her hand.

“Damn you Rio,”

“You love me,” they were quick to interject with a smile. Lacey chuckled as they approached the bar. Frankie was standing outside and Lacey smiled up at the rakassha as she entered and River gave a mock salute. “Evenin’ Frankie,” they said and received a nod in response. River walked in and was almost smacked by the noise. Boys Don’t Cry was playing over the speakers as the bar and surrounding tables were crowded. As to be expected on a Friday night.

“Lacey Loo!” A male voice yelled from one of the side tables. Lacey grinned as she turned to greet the voice. Decked in a red plaid shirt and good jeans was Scott, the himbo werewolf boyfriend. He was a good guy, he and River got along when they hung out together, they were just… loud when it came to nightly extracurriculars, and that was before getting into the whole “is a werewolf” thing. River nodded that they were taking their leave as Lacey went over to Scott and they found themselves going to the bar. They waited for the bartender to finish dealing with some newbies as they took their seat in their usual stool. It was a miracle that as busy as the bar was, they managed to snag it. If River didn’t know any better, they might’ve thought that Chrissa was saving it for them. They watched the orc bartender work, she eventually turned around and seemed relieved to see River.

“Finally, someone easy,” she said with a sigh. River chuckled and smiled.

“Hey Chrissa, my usual?” They asked.

“One mildly large glass of Coca Cola, coming up.” She said as she pulled a glass and the soda gun. Chrissa filled it and slid it to River with a smile, garnished with its usual orange umbrella, a mental note to whoever came on shift after Chrissa or simply any passing waiter that River wasn’t drinking. They snuck a glance around the bar, trying to spot if there was anyone they knew hanging around. Other than Scott and Lacey cozied up in the corner, the answer seemed to be a resounding no, not that it wasn’t expected. River sighed and went back to focusing on Chrissa doing her work. They’d always had a fascination with watching the bartender work, it was always interesting, trying to follow Chrissa’s hands move and grab the bottles without thinking too hard about what they were, measuring the liquor with ease that only came from repeated movements and months of training before her first shift. Laurence had hired her after he got tired of working the bar himself, roughly around the same time River and Lacey had started frequenting the place when they first moved to the city.

Chrissa dealt with some customers at the other end of the bar before coming back in front of River.

“How was work by the way?” She asked. River shrugged in response.

“Wasn’t too bad, mostly just stayed in the basement with Drake.” They said, the record shop they worked at had a light dampened basement for those who didn’t do well with sunlight, which included their vampire coworker. River just liked it because it was usually a lot quieter than working the upstairs front counter. Even if Al sometimes sent the most ridiculous requests down to them.

“No wonder you’re so fucking pale,” Chrissa joked as she cleaned glasses. River just rolled their eyes.

“Hey, I’m pale because of a lot of reasons. The basement and Nox are just two of the reasons.” They remarked.

“How is Nox by the way?”

“Good, he’s mostly keeping to himself, deep cleaned the apartment the other day and I didn’t even know he could do that.”  River remarked with a chuckle. Nox didn’t pay rent, but he usually made up for it by keeping the apartment clean when Lacey and them couldn’t. “I think he wrote something about wanting to try manifesting fully again while we were there, but we haven’t been in the apartment at the same time long enough.”

“Scott?” Chrissa asked. River groaned and nodded.

“I swear, it’d be easier if they just moved in together so I could start looking for other roommates, but they’re “still taking it slow”.” River remarked.

“Heads up, someone headed your way,” Chrissa said, her tone of voice taking on a dash of an edge. River furrowed their brow until they turned and saw a purple skinned woman stride toward them with a glint in their eyes that River had a sneaking suspicion they should fear.

“Do you?” River asked with a slight head tilt of confusion

“Yeah, if it were anyone else, I’d say run.”

“But it’s me so…”

“Oh I’m so looking forward to what comes next.” Chirssa said with a laugh as they moved down the bar a bit. The woman who finished coming over made a show of coming next to River without getting into their personal space. River watched them out of the corner of their eye, waiting to see what the play was.

“What’re you drinking sweetie?” The woman asked. She had wavy purple and pink hair with white ox horns that curved just below her chin.

“Just soda, I’m a DD tonight,” River lied. Not about the soda, but about being the DD. Really, they were waiting for the text that said they were out of an apartment tonight, but DD seemed like the safer excuse.

“Ah, the responsible friend, those are always nice to have, I’ve never had the luck,” the woman said with a smile. Her voice sounded like honey and it was pleasant to listen to. But between Chrissa’s warnings and this woman seeming to lay on thick whatever it was they were trying, River let a chuckle escape them. “What?” she asked with a slight tilt of her head.

“You’ve struck out Misae,” Chrissa said, coming back over with a martini glass with pink liquid in it. “You managed to pick the one ace human in the whole establishment.”

“I doubt that,” River remarked, the venn diagram of “ace being” and “human” in this establishment was a thin middle ground, but not one person thin. At least, as far as River knew. Misae however chuckled and smiled.

“Then I’m terribly sorry about all of that,”

“Ah don’t worry about it, you’re still pretty and I like getting hit on by pretty women even if they are trying to mildly charm me.” River said with a grin. “I’m River,” they said, offering their hand.

“Misae as Chirssa mentioned, charmed to meet you River,” She said, shaking hands with a gentle grace. When they released each other's hands, Misae furrowed her brow. “Nothing?” She asked which got another laugh out of River. “Not a thing,” they said.

“Wow…” Misae said with a sigh as she took a sip of her drink. River thought she��d leave and go find another target before a grin came onto her lips. “Would you mind coming and pranking my friends? I’ve got one who needs to be taken down a peg and I think you’ll be my secret weapon.” She asked. River looked over at Chrissa who gave a short nod.

“If it’s who I think it is, they’ll knock him down several pegs.” She said, River turned back to Misae who was still grinning, more conspiratorial than sensual, they snuck a quick glance to where Lacey and Scott were still curled up together before facing Misae again.

“Yeah why not,” they said as they popped off their barstool. Misae giggled and offered her hand, a hand that River took, as she dragged them to a booth tucked into the back of the bar, it was an eight person booth currently filled with three similar looking individuals, in so much as they weren’t human and definitely had demonic lineage. River did their best to not make assumptions, but judging on what Misae had brought them over to achieve, the members of the table were all various forms of incubi. Concubi? Was that the technical term? One on the edge of the seating arrangement was a light blue man with his horns curving up from his forehead and a darker blue coloring on his cheek that River had a hard time telling if it was a blush or makeup.

“Mis, who’s this?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than expected and a curious look on his face.

“This is River, River this is Azzy,” the light blue one who smiled slightly and River was pretty convinced that this was the closest they were going to experience an embarrassed incubus. “Kori,” a maroon inc who seemed to be the eldest of the group as he simply smiled at their appearance. He had long hair tied up in a bun and River felt a little bit more at ease seeing him. “And Joliet,” another maroon skinned being who was grinning, he also had tied up black hair, though he wore jewelry on his horns. “Where’s Rose?” Misae asked as she gestured for River to sit next to Joliet. She sat down next to Azzy across the table and River tried not to feel like they’d been suddenly thrown off the deep end.

“Bathroom.” Azzy said.

“Biblically speaking,” Joliet quickly added. River chuckled a little at the need for clarification. Something told them that for him it was actually necessary. They also suspected he was probably their target.

“Ah, well, that’s chill.”

“Mis what are you planning?” Kori asked with a slight glare directed at his friend. Ah, he was the dad friend.

“Oh nothing, just a lil bit of karmic justice,” Misae said with a grin that was anything but innocent. Joliet leaned over to River and whispered in their ear.

“Blink twice and I’ll get you out of here,” he said with a smirk. River stared at him with a smirk of their own and Joliet broke into a laugh. “Oh they’re good,”

“Seriously Mis, what’s going on?” Kori asked.

“It’s payback for Rose stealing my mark last week.” Misae said.

“And how is this gonna be payback?” Kori asked. “You just put a perfectly beautiful human in front of him, if anything all this is going to do is insure none of us sleep tonight,” he said.

“Oh you’ll see,” Misae said, throwing a wink River’s way. River tried to not blush at being called beautiful and simply kept their game face on.

“What’ll Kor see?” A navy blue inc asked. He wore a grey t-shirt and dark black jeans and River saw the issue. Between golden eyes and a charisma that dripped off of him, even as unaffected as River was, he knew who and what he was and was well aware that manipulating people was second nature. He’d been looking over at Kori before scanning the table and landing on River. “Oh… oh hello,” he said. His voice was warmer than Misae’s was, more a whiskey than a true honey, but it didn’t hit River the way they imagined he intended. “If you’d scootch in sugar,” he said. To play along, River did so, pressing a little closer to Joliet in the process. River snuck a glance at the others who all looked a little nervous, even Misae, but River softly shook their head, hiding it by pushing their bangs off their forehead a bit. “Now, hello. I’m Rosair, you can call me Rose,” he said as he offered his hand to shake. River took it with a smirk of their own.

“Nice to meet you Rose, River,” they said. Rosair took their hand and kissed the back of it and River chuckled. “You do this to all the pretty people who cross your path?” They asked.

“Yes,”

“Then I can see why Misae and Chrissa put me up to this,” they said with a chuckle. Rosair furrowed his brow to which River only grinned. “I’m ace Rose, you’re just pretty.” Rosair looked over at Misae who was grinning.

“Payback’s a bitch Rosie,” she said.

“Ah no matter, you’re still here.” he said with a small smirk that seemed to indicate he wasn’t done yet.

“Sure,” River said as they tapped his shoulder. “So, other than trying to pick up people at bars, what do you lot do?” They asked with a tilt of their head. Even Misae looked a little surprised at the question. “What? You think I’m just gonna go back to the bar and go back to sitting alone? C’mon now, you guys are not that dumb.” Joliet broke out of the stunned silence first with a laugh.

“You’ll have to forgive them, they’re very used to transactional interactions and have not quite figured out just normal interactions, I work at a tattoo parlor.” He said with a smile.

“Interesting, Kori?” River asked, glancing a little around Joliet.

“Oh uh, I work at a bakery. Mostly donuts and cake.” He said.

“I’ll definitely have to try it some time, assuming you’re any good,”

“I’m mostly the counter, but Mandy, who actually owns the place, is quite good.” Kori clarified.

“Azzy?” River asked with a raised eyebrow, watching him fight off the dark blue crawling onto his cheeks.

“I work at a thrift shop.”

“I’m a grad student,” Misae said, “mostly focusing on art and culture, and Rosair’s a mooch.”

“I think the technical term is gold digger,” Joliet commented.

“I thought it was drifter,” Kori chimed in.

“None of you are correct, I’m a freelancer.” Rosair said with a roll of his eyes.

“That’s what we said: a freeloader.” Azzy said and River had to quickly get closer to Joliet as Rosair nearly vaulted over the table to get at his friend. River laughed a little and looked over at Rosair for the first time since he sat down.

“What’s your specialty?” They asked leaning on the table and cutting off the others physically a bit, which got a gasp from Joliet.

“Graphic design,” he said.

“You any good?”

“I’ve been told so, but you’re welcome to find out,” he said with a smirk returning. River laughed a little.

“Okay, yeah, I walked into that one,” they said as the giggles subsided.

The conversation continued on like that for a while, giggles and quips and jokes at everyone’s expense. River learned that Kori, Misae, and Azzy had known each other since high school, Joliet wasn’t technically an inc but his dad had been, so his cambion status gave him a weird in when they were in college with the other three, and Rosair had needed people to help pay the rent on his, in Azzy’s words, “fucking massive” apartment which had led to their loose confederation of people. Joliet called them “the Inc Den” which only got a groan out of Kori. They were pleasant and funny, and River tried not to think about how they were the first friends they’d made outside of work in three years.

When Misae had left the table to get drinks, River felt their phone vibrate and they tried not to groan as they fished it out of their pocket.

“Careful sugar,” Rosair said. He’d tucked himself in close next to River even after the rejection and they kept their phone in the pocket next to him.

“Shut up Rose,” they muttered as they clicked it on.

From Lacey Loo: hey…. I’m sorry. Tell drake i’ll pay for his breakfast.

River tried not to slam their head on the table in response. They tried not to think about how normal it was that Lacey didn’t even have to say much for River to get the whole picture. They changed their text channels and started texting Drake.

To Drake-ula: please tell me your couch is open

From Drake-ula: sorry dude, ditto situation

To Drake-ula: a) get some, roger’ll expect a review b) fuck you fine c) please tell me it isn’t roger

From Drake-ula: you think too lowly of me, it isn’t roger. And fuck you too, see you tomorrow.

River went to change chats again when Joliet piped up, “What’s with the angry eyes Riv?” He asked.

“My roommate just sexiled me and my go-to couch did the same.” They said as they pulled up Roger’s contact.

To Roger Snake: please tell me I can crash on a pile of pillows

The lack of instantaneous reply led to River looking at the time. The fact that it was a little after midnight meant Roger wouldn't even be up, the early sleeper he was. “Fuck!” They hissed.

“Aren’t you a little old to get sexiled?” Kori asked.

“Do you want to be in the same apartment as a werewolf having sex when he’s noisy even unshifted?” River asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Fair enough,” Kori said almost immediately. River sighed and tried to think of literally anyone else who might be okay with them crashing. Derek usually didn’t want anyone in his apartment except for holiday dinners, Chasen was out of town, and Al lived with six other people and they usually had people on the couch. They felt bad for Nox, who could technically leave the apartment, didn’t like doing it so they usually just suffered in silence and berated Lacey in the mirror the following morning.

“You could stay with us sugar,” Rosair said. River looked over at him with a look of confused amusement.

“Bet you say that to all the pretty people,”

“Actually we have a “no marks in the apartment” policy,” Azzy said. “It ensures we all sleep and don’t end up in this very situation,” he added.

“Why should I?”

“Because going back to your place means a very vocal werewolf,” Rosair said.

“And we have a pull out couch.” Kori cut in quickly.

“And they think you're cute and the fact that you haven’t run for the hills after nearly two hours with us is a sign they might want to keep you around,” Joliet whispered in River’s ear. Joliet had quickly become a grounding element at the table. He seemed to translate the unspoken wants of everyone with ease of exetend exposure. River tried not to flush a little at the comment.

“Can I convince you all to swear on no funny business?” They asked cautiously.

“Absolutely, just a couch,” Kori said. River looked over at Rosair who chuckled but nodded.

“On my name, there’ll be no funny business, just a couch.” River glanced at Azzy and Misae who nodded in agreement.

“We’re with them.” Misae said. River did a quick pro-con list in their head and sighed.

“Alright, yeah, I’d love it if I could crash on your couch,” they said.  

“Then we should probably get out of here,” Kori remarked. Misae stood up and allowed him and Azzy out of the booth. Rosair did the same for River and Joliet. River quickly realized that other than Azzy and Misae, River was the shortest amongst the group, and even Azzy had his horns for a little bit of extra height. As they started walking for the door, River caught Chrissa’s eye who only slightly furrowed her brow and came a dash closer

“Rio,” she said. The group stopped and River went over to the bar, leaning over on their elbows.

“What’s up?” They asked.

“You’re fully conscious and aware you’re leaving with these people right?” Chrissa asked. River chuckled slightly and nodded.

“Yeah, Drake’s got someone over and Lacey kicked me out, they’re letting me crash on their couch,” River said. They appreciated the check, really, it was out of character for River to leave Labyrinth with anyone other than Lacey, Drake, or even Roger if they managed to catch him early enough.

“Alright, text me in the morning, yeah?” She said, which River nodded without comment. They went back over to the others and they continued their way out of the bar, River saluting Frankie at the door as a symbol that they were leaving willingly. Frankie let out a low growl but nodded as they let Kori lead the group to the apartment.

It wasn’t a far walk from the Labyrinth, probably why they favored it like Lacey and River did, and it was actually surprisingly closer to work than River’s own apartment. Which meant it was in the opposite direction of their apartment making changing before work tomorrow a challenge. Maybe they could? No, no that’d be pushing it. They’d just ask Derek to have a spare set in the back room when they got in. When the group reached the complex, River realized why Rosair had needed help with the rent, it was not an inexpensive building, even if Rosair was as good as he said he was. They all piled into the elevator with Azzy practically leaning on Misae out of exhaustion. Kori was scrolling through his phone while Joliet was fishing out the keys. They reached the sixth floor and wandered down the hall a little before opening the door.

The main space was fairly open, a decent size kitchen off to the right, a television on a stand by far wall in between two doors. There was a small set of stairs that seemed to lead into a small hallway. If River had to guess, they were going to go with the idea that that’s probably where the den’s bedrooms were.

“Bathroom’s the left door, I’ll help with the couch when you come out,” Joliet said. Having been relieved from bed duty, Azzy and Misae wandered their way upstairs. River nodded once and wandered into the bathroom that was quite well furnished for a half bath. They quickly went and splashed some water on their face and came back to Kori and Joliet waiting for them. Joliet had tugged the bed out and it looked really comfy, even by pull out bed standards, as Kori had seemed to stack pillows and extra blankets on the end. Kori then handed over a pair of sweatpants.

“Figured you didn’t want to sleep in jeans,” he said and River couldn’t tell because the apartment was dark, but they could’ve sworn Kori was a little flustered.

“Thanks Kor,” River said with a small smile. Kori nodded and untied his hair as he wandered over to the stairs, shaking it out and running his hand through it. River tried not to be mesmerized by the gesture but based on Joliet’s chuckle they were unsuccessful.

“I’m pretty convinced that’s why he keeps it tied up,” Joliet remarked.

“Probably, he could cause traffic accidents like that.”

“Wait until he reminds you he can be a whore,” Joliet said.

“Huh?” River said with a small flush of pink.

“Kori doesn’t like to advertise he’s an incubus, rather just let people think he’s a slightly tall tiefling. Hell, if he could survive without having to feed, he’d do it. But every once and a while either Misae or Rosair will convince him to dress up and it tends to lead people to have a hard time keeping their hands to themselves.” Joliet said. “But, enough chatter, I’m the door to the right, if you need anything just knock. Most of us don’t get up before noon, but I’m your best bet if you need something in the morning.

“Like a different t-shirt?” River asked.

“Oh yeah, I’ll even loot a pair of underwear if you need it.”

“I don’t think--”

“Don’t worry, Rose won’t notice.” Joliet said with a smirk. River tried not to laugh too loudly at the prospect.

“Thanks Jols,” they said. Joliet grinned and held their arm out, allowing River to come into his side if they wanted to. They did, with ease tucking themselves into his side and receiving a quick squeeze.

“No worries darling, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” He said with a smile. River nodded and quickly disappeared back into the bathroom to change into the sweatpants that anyone with eyeballs could tell weren't theirs, but they didn't really mind. They were comfy and that was all that mattered. They tiptoed back out and carefully curled up in the pile of blankets. This.... this was good.