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mindmelter · 2 days ago

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Hollow Justice

It all started when I was passing by a group of logistic workers during my lunch break from the office. They were loud, obnoxious, and unfortunately, also ridiculously hot.

Our office received a new shipment of supplies that day, so the logistics team was busy unloading the deliveries into the warehouse.

One of them—a tall, Brazilian, bearded guy in a reflective vest—caught my eye immediately. But then I heard them mocking a young, shy, office guy who had just walked past. Their words hit like knives, and the shy guy’s face turned red as he quickened his pace.

I knew him from work. We never spoke to each other because we were from different departments, but he seemed like a nice guy.

"Look at that white collar faggot, even his walk is gay" The bearded logistic worker mocked while loading a heavy box into the cart.

"I think he was looking at your ass dude!" His coworker laughed.

"I will teach him to keep his eyes to himself next time!"

Something in me snapped. I wasn’t just going to let that slide. So, I followed the shy guy and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual but flirty. “I think you’re cute. Can I get your number?”

He blinked at me, wide-eyed, as if I’d just asked him to marry me. “Me?” he asked, almost like he didn’t believe it.

“Yes, you,” I said, smiling. He hesitated, but after a second, he pulled out his phone and we shared numbers. He looked so surprised like no one had ever hit on him before, and honestly, that just made me angrier at those jerks.

Number secured, I turned on my heels and went back to the group of homophobic workers. They were still laughing, still making my blood boil. I focused on the Brazilian guy—he was the worst of the bunch. Lucky for me, he broke off from the group and headed into the bathroom. Perfect.

I followed him in, keeping quiet as he used the urinals. Once the coast was clear, I made my move. From my pocket, I pulled out a syringe filled with my special bodysuit serum. As he turned to wash his hands, I jabbed it right into his neck. He gasped, and his body started to convulse as the serum took effect. Within seconds, he was deflating on the floor, his muscles, skin, and bones disintegrating away until all that was left was an empty husk—that handsome and tall blue collar worker turned into nothing more than a hollow bodysuit.

I dragged the limp bodysuit into the stall and took a moment to admire it. I lifted his head by the hair. His head was stretched down by the weight of his beard, making him slack-jawed, and his eyes were now just empty holes.

"Not so smug now, are you? I will show you who is a faggot," I mocked him.

I stepped into the suit, feeling his skin stretch and seal around me like a suit. Within seconds, I was him. His voice, his scent, his muscles—they were all mine.

I pulled out my phone, snapped a quick mirror selfie, and sent it to the shy guy's number with a message: *“I’m sorry for being such a prick to you earlier. I only act like that in front of my friends because I’m a closeted gay guy. Can't let them know I'm just a cock hungry whore. Please come and meet me in the bathroom. I will let you fuck my ass as an apology.”*

Then, I waited. As I waited sitting in the toilet, I played with my new thick, hard, brown cock. I would stroke it, and sometimes slap it, watching it bounce. I wondered about how many times he used it to fuck women, probably a lot... I then grabbed his ID badge that was on his neck.

Name: Thiago Henrique da Silva / Date of Birth: March 15, 1998 / Age: 26 / License Class: Class A (Allows him to operate heavy machinery)

I chuckled and then went back to play with Thiago's thick cock. After half an hour, I was starting to wonder if the guy would really show up when I heard the bathroom door creak open. I peeked through the stall door and saw him—nervous but intrigued. I opened the door and called him in.

He hesitated for a second, but the bulge in his pants said everything I needed to know. He slowly stepped in and locked the door. I could tell he was still not sure if the logistic worker was serious or if he was just about to prank him. I needed to show him that there was nothing for him to worry about.

So I kneeled in front of him and pulled down his pants. His hard throbbing cock sprang free and I wrapped the shaft with the worker's big calloused hand. I slapped his cock against Thiago's handsome face and winked at him in a flirty way. His face was priceless, he was shocked that a hot manly stud like Thiago was acting like a slut. I soon wrapped my new thick lips around his shaft and gave him a blowjob that would make him remember it for the rest of his life.

I suddenly felt his hands around my head and he started to facefuck me roughly, so rough that the mask started to slip off. Thiago's face became misplaced over my real face. It was a sight that would make the gay office worker run away and have nightmares forever.

Luckily, he had his eyes closed at the time, so I quickly fixed the bodysuit's mask, placing it where it should be.

After blowing him for some time, I stood up and pulled down my uniform pants, offering him Thiago's tight ass to fuck. It wasn't my first time being fucked, but the man I was wearing was still a virgin, so the office guy had to take some time to loosen the bodysuit's asshole. Once he was sure it was loose enough, he fucked Thiago like he was his personal bitch.

The boy might not be the best looking, but he sure knew how to fuck.

And me? I moaned, grunted, and played the part of the closeted homophobic blue-collar worker who couldn’t get enough of cock. When it was over and he finished inside me, he straightened his clothes, kissed me, and whispered, “That was amazing. I forgive you,” Then, he left, looking happier than ever.

As for the bodysuit, I didn’t need it anymore. I pulled it off and threw it into the toilet. I then grabbed a new syringe, injected the bodysuit with it, and watched as what was left of Thiago dissolved into black goo. I flushed the goo down the toilet and threw his uniform in the trash bin, but kept his ID badge for some reason...

I washed my hands and walked out of the bathroom with a smirk on my face, just as my lunch break was ending—justice had been served on my plate.

#bodysuit #male bodysuit

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thursdayinspace · 2 days ago

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post-Milagro ficlet

I got an ask from a lovely anon a few days ago about *the* quote from Milagro: "Agent Scully is already in love." This is part of what will maybe turn out to be a larger WIP, or maybe not. It stands on its own for now. But who knows. Anon: thanks for the ask! I took a bit of a different turn with this, but I couldn't manage post-Milagro fic that didn't have some angst in it. tagging @today-in-fic

Agent Scully is already in love.

A look at the alarm clock tells her it’s 3 a.m. and she hasn’t managed to sleep more than a few minutes at a time. Every time she drifts off, the same thoughts jerk her awake again. She can still feel the hand around her heart, the horror and fear, the absolute certainty in her mind that this was it, she couldn’t fight this, nobody was gonna save her this time.

But she’s okay. She’s not even hurt. There’s even a decent chance that she’ll get the blood out of her clothes, even though she’s not sure she ever wants to wear them again. She’s okay, and yet she’s lying here wide awake at 3 a.m., the past few days replaying on a constant loop in her mind. She has no idea why she ever even talked to Padgett. Quite honestly, she has no idea why she did any of the things she did. She has no idea how she didn’t end up hurt or dead.

She knew the risks she was taking. Interacting with your own stalker—a really fucking terrible idea. But it’s only now that she’s truly afraid. Now that it’s over.

Mulder offered to stay with her. He would have let her stay at his apartment, but she had to get out of there, and he understood. A part of her wishes she’d have let him sleep on her couch the way he wanted. Having him close by might be a comfort now. Or it might not.

Agent Scully is already in love.

One more thing she can’t forget, no matter how hard she tries. Padgett was clearly not well, and she never should have listened to a word he said, but she did. She listened, and she heard things that were never meant to be spoken aloud.

And Mulder was there. Mulder heard. She turns her face into the pillow and squeezes her eyes closed. She doesn’t wanna hear it anymore. She doesn’t want those words.

If it weren’t for those words, maybe she could have let Mulder stay. Maybe it would have been okay.

Deep breaths, she tells herself. Breathe. Relax. Think about nothing. Think about puppies and nice hot baths and the smell of freshly baked cookies.

A hand around her heart, squeezing. She can’t move, the floor hard against her back, and she knows she’s dying, she can’t move, she can’t…

Fuck. She rolls onto her back and covers her eyes with her hands as if that could stop the images from flooding her tired mind.

Jolting back to consciousness, her body tight with fear and shock, and Mulder right there, Mulder with his worried eyes, Mulder’s arms around her holding her close, Mulder, Mulder, Mulder.

She wants Mulder. Oh god. She shouldn’t have sent him away when he dropped her off, when he asked whether she wanted him to come up.

She could call her mom.

She could deal with this on her own like a fucking adult who doesn’t need anyone to hold her hand every time she gets scared.

A tiny part of her brain reminds her that this was bad, that she has every right to be shaken up. But she wants her mind to be wrong about this. She just wants it to be over.

She wants Mulder.

Agent Scully is already in love.

Mulder is the last person she can call right now.

They have worked out a system a long time ago for when one of them can’t sleep. Call and let it ring once, then hang up. If the other one is awake enough to reach for the phone, they talk. Otherwise they let each other sleep. She could do that. He’d understand. Hell, he’s probably lying awake expecting her to call. Which makes her that much more determined not to do it.

The last digits she reads on her alarm clock before she drifts off into a restless slumber are 5:28.

At 7 a.m., her alarm rings. She feels terrible. Everyone would understand if she took a sick day. But then she’d sit here all day with her thoughts, with her memories, with nothing to distract her.

When she walks into the office, she doesn’t remember getting dressed, she doesn’t remember driving to work. She’s not sure whether she had breakfast or not. She’s not even entirely sure she’s awake.

“Scully!” Mulder sounds surprised, and she manages to lift her head high enough to look at him as he walks around the desk. He comes straight towards her to put his hands on her shoulders. “Scully, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m fine. Just. Didn’t sleep great.”

He doesn’t let go of her, just stands there biting his lip and giving her that soft look that makes her want to weep.

She doesn’t need this on top of everything. Maybe she should have stayed home after all. She’s so good at keeping her feelings locked away. Today, she barely has the strength to stand upright or formulate a single thought that isn’t Oh god, I’m so tired.

“Go home,” Mulder says. “I’ll drive you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I need to… I just need to take my mind off things.”

A stranger’s fist inside her chest, forcing the life from her body, merciless, cold. Pain, panic.

Mulder squeezes her shoulders gently. “You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t expect you to come in. I’m sure neither did Skinner. Take a few days. You need rest.”

She shakes her head, regretting the movement as the room spins out of focus for a second. “What I need is to work.” What she needs is to know if Mulder knows. She knows her fear is safe with him. She doesn’t know about all the rest. She needs something to hold onto. Something stronger than the fear. “I’m not going home,” she tells him firmly.

He hesitates a long moment, an eternity. Finally, he nods. “Okay,” he says. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Mulder looks very unhappy, but she can’t do anything about that. She just needs… she just needs something to occupy her mind. Before she passes out on the floor and dreams of a hand around her heart, squeezing the life out of her.

“Hey, Scully?”

She blinks her eyes open, disoriented for a second. Her neck hurts and her head is spinning as she sits up. Mulder is standing in the doorway. She’s sitting behind the desk. Right. She wanted to check something. He went to… do something else that she doesn’t remember. “Sorry,” she says, and wipes drool from the corner of her mouth. Falling asleep at the desk is probably not the best way to convince him she’s okay to work. A quick look at her watch tells her she can’t have been out for more than ten minutes. “What is it?”

He waves a file in her direction. “I think we should check this out as quickly as possible,” he says.

“Oh.” She manages a nod. Do they have a case? She remembers talking about something earlier that they decided to dismiss. She can’t even recall what it was. But apparently they settled on something. “Yeah, absolutely.” She pauses, not sure whether she wants to ask. She really doesn’t want him to know that she completely zoned out on all of it. But then again, she can’t exactly do her work if she doesn’t know what they’re even working on. “What, uh. What is the case again? Sorry, I guess I’m a bit… distracted today.”

“Yeah.” He gives her a long look. “The haunted hotel, remember? And it’s just an hour and a half from here.”

“Oh!” she says, pretending to remember, deciding she can read whatever is in that folder on the way to… wherever it is they’re going. “Right. Yes. Okay. And you want us to go there right now?”

“Why not?” he says, shrugging. “No time like the present.”

“Good, yeah, okay.” She suppresses a yawn and tries not to shiver too obviously. She has reached the level of exhaustion where her whole body hurts and she feels like she’s running a fever.

“I’ll drive,” he says. She doesn’t argue.

Out of sheer stubbornness, she manages not to fall asleep in the car. She even manages to make conversation. Her speech is barely even slurred. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

Unfortunately, he put the file in the trunk of the car before she remembered to take it from him, but he’s telling her some ghost stories about the place while they drive, so she feels reasonably well-prepared.

“Here we are,” he says, pulling into the parking lot of an expensive-looking hotel that looks not even remotely like she imagined. But after all these years, she’s come to expect the unexpected.

“This is it?”

“Yup.” He smiles at her and gets out of the car. She follows, her legs heavy, but she gets them moving, gets them to carry her towards the entrance of the building.

The spacious foyer they walk into screams “I’m way out of your pay grade,” and she notices guests and staff who all look very happy and not at all like they’re being plagued by ghost sightings. Business seems to be going well. Which is also not what she expected from a place that is haunted enough for Mulder to open an X-file on it. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, and something in his voice makes her turn her head and study his profile carefully.

“Mulder, what aren’t you telling me?”

He stops and turns towards her with a sigh. “I may have done something rash and stupid, and please feel free to yell at me if I completely overstepped any boundaries here.”

“Oh god,” she says. “What did you do?”

“I, um.” He directs his gaze at the floor next to her feet and grimaces. “I may have gone to Skinner and told him we’re both taking the rest of the week off.”

“You…what?”

“And I may have called here and booked us a suite. For two nights. A… vacation, I guess.”

“Mulder…”

“Two bedrooms. And there are go ghosts here, don’t worry.” He pauses before he continues, his voice low and careful. “As long as we’re anywhere near the Hoover Building, you’ll work. I know it and you know it.”

“Mulder, seriously…”

“You need to sleep, Scully,” he says, finally meeting her eyes. “You’re dead on your feet. You can barely keep your eyes open.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. She’s so tired. So very, very tired. All she wants is a bed. All she wants is for her memories to leave her alone. All she wants is to sink against Mulder’s chest and cry with exhaustion and the emotional hangover from almost being murdered. Again. “…Okay.”

“Okay?” He looks so hopeful, so relieved. Another thing that almost makes her cry.

Agent Scully is already in love.

Shit. He makes it really hard for her to feel any other sort of way about him. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.”

She frowns. “What about all those stories you just told me about this place?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I kind of made them up.”

Her laughter turns into a yawn and he puts his arms around her shoulders as they get their key and find the elevator up to their floor. She leans against him, letting him hold her upright. Now that she’s given in to this, the prospect of lying down and closing her eyes seems so overwhelmingly wonderful.

“Oh no,” she says, suddenly remembering something.

“What is it?” he asks.

“I don’t have anything with me. No clothes, nothing.”

He laughs and pulls her tighter against him just as the elevator door opens and they step out. “I’m sorry. I honestly completely forgot about that.”

“Yeah.” She feels such a rush of fondness for him it makes her aching heart flutter in her chest. “I’m noticing you don’t have a bag with you either.”

“Well.” He lets go of her to open the door to their suite and lets her walk in ahead of him. “We’ll just have to spend the next couple of days in hotel robes.”

“Maybe we should go out and buy a few things,” she suggests.

“Or,” he says, “you go and lie down and I’ll go out and pick up a few things for us.”

“But—”

“Scully,” he interrupts. “Trust me. I think I can manage to find a pair of sweatpants and a couple of t-shirts for you that will fit.”

“Underwear,” she says and blushes.

“I can manage that too,” he says, and she’s too tired to feel embarrassed about anything right now.

Agent Scully is already in love.

“Mulder?”

“Yes?”

“You’re the best partner I’ve ever had.”

“That’s not difficult,” he says, “since I’m the only partner you’ve ever had. There’s not really that much competition.”

In lieu of an answer, she hugs him, pleased when he puts his arms around her in return. She doesn’t feel the hard floor against her back when he holds her, she doesn’t remember what it felt like when her vision went black and she felt herself dying.

She really wants to ask him if he knows who Padgett was talking about. If he believed it. But she won’t. Not right now. There’s time. And maybe she already knows the answer. Either way, it’s true. And she’s too weak to fight it.

“Thank you,” she says.

He pulls her closer and sighs against her hair. “I just want you to be okay,” he says softly.

“I will be,” she promises.

Agent Scully is already in love.

Whether it’s friendship or something else that he’s offering, she knows that whatever shape his feelings come in, she’s never been loved like this before. By anyone. And even with all the ghosts in her mind, she feels like she might finally get some sleep after all.

#txf #the x files #msr #mulder and scully #fic #poangpals #this was really fun

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pkmn-lillie · 3 days ago

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The slumbering Thing lies below Gotham, deep under the twisting caves and labyrinthine tunnels. It was borne from a curse, echoing backwards to the beginning of time. It was borne from love, the love of a people for their city, so powerful as to breathe life into It.

Janet Drake was infertile. No medical intervention could change that. But she wished, and prayed, and deep under her home, the sleeping Thing takes pity.

"I shall grant you a child, body of flesh and blood, soul and mind of mine. He will be a wonderful dream, waking and sleeping at once."

Janet knows that her miracle baby is strange, inhuman, but trying to grasp a specific memory of those nine months leaves her weary and aching. (Truly mortal flesh is not meant to hold a thing such as It, even a sliver, and it is a testament to her fortitude that she came out sane on the other side.)

Tim never sleeps. He naps, frequently and in the strangest places, but he never reaches deep sleep. He knows that he is the dream of something greater, the dozing Thing that exists under Its city. He fears that sleeping so deeply will rouse It from the dream permanently, and he will be forgotten as dreams tend to be.

(Tim has slept that deeply, before, due to being forced unconscious by head trauma or through chemical means. The Thing has yet to truly wake, letting Itself revel in its precious dream once more, but he always fears each slumber could be his last.)

(Tim is running out of ways to avoid the sleep study that Bruce seems intent on him getting, because the risk of a willful sleep is too great to ignore.)

An earthquake shakes Gotham to its core, revealing long-buried caverns and derelict catacombs. By pure chance, a chamber deep under the city becomes accessible from the Batcave. (Tim wants so desperately to trust his family with the truth, even just a whisper.)

Nightwing braves the new passage with cautious glee, the joy of discovery deep in his bones. Signal follows behind, pretending to lament his use as a walking flashlight, just as excited as his eldest brother. The Thing that slumbers deep below feels them coming, contains itself to a perceptible form so as not to break one of its treasured Birds.

"Nightwing. Report."

"Uh, there's something big down here. Really big. Pretty sure it's sleeping."

Tim shivers, sitting at his desk in his bedroom. The conversation passes through Its mind like sand, and his mortal brain can only catch so much.

"Elaborate."

"I... Signal, what do you see?"

"It's some Lovecraft bullshit down here, Batman. It's big, and it's definitely sleeping, but there's really no good way to define it otherwise. There is no word to describe the color I'm seeing right now, and I'm pretty sure that's not what Wing is seeing."

"Your eyes just slip right past it, trying to focus on it long enough to gauge its size gives me a migraine."

Tim's fingers still on his keyboard. For the first time in his life, the sleeping Thing feels dread. It— he— doesn't want to wake up, please let It sleep please please please—

"Come back now. I will contact Justice League Dark."

"... Yeah. Copy that. C'mon, Sig."

<br>

alright prose/drabble over i need to get the rest of my ideas out and then take a nap

when Batman holds a meeting to discuss it, Tim is the only one who suggests just leaving it be. he knows its sus but he's desperately hoping they'll listen.

JLD sets up a bunch of wards in the tunnel connecting it to the cave. Tim starts napping more and more, never actually looking rested, his hands shake, his body aches, his focus is shot. Bruce worries that the entity is hurting his son.

Tim holds steady, though, until one day Batman tempts fate and goes to poke the bear (with a JLD member supervising, of course.) Tim, working in the cave, collapses. He curls into fetal position and pleads, begs, sobs, for them to stop, "let me dream, please, i don't want to wake up, please"

dealer's choice of whether Bruce keeps going (interpreting it as pulling a parasite out of his son) or listens to Tim and stops.

On one hand, the delicious angst of hurting his son by trying to help him, possibly killing the son that he knows. One of his other sons demands that he stop, something is wrong, but Bruce is too stubborn to let this beast sleep below his city unchecked, trying to contain it in its chamber. Tim realising that he can never trust Bruce with the truth, if he survives this.

On the other hand, fluff and emotional angst! The bats learn why Tim is just Like That, maybe they set up something so Tim doesn't have to worry about the entity waking up every time he gets knocked out, the proximity to his true 'body' makes Tim's human form a little more spooky and strange, the world is your oyster!

Short DPXDC Prompts #749

Tim Drake isn’t human, he knows that and is comfortable in his skin. This strange ghost boy very obviously isn’t comfortable in his ghost form around humans. He will help change that.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #eldritch tim drake #eldritch tim drake au #dpxdc #dcxdp #please if anyone wants to keep writing go for it!!!!!!#ok im going to nap

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honeypiehotchner · 2 days ago

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The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part one

I'm backkk 👀 Reminder that y'all do NOT like each other (for now 🤭)

I did a lot of math to make sure I had my timeline in order but I won't bore y'all with all the numbers. Some basics, tho: we're somewhere in s5/6, Foyet doesn't exist here but Haley and Hotch are divorced and Jack lives with Haley, Reader is in her mid 30s and Hotch is in his mid 40s. That's all for now, happy reading! xxx

Chapter warnings: these two are at each other's throats! and a new case begins ofc

Your day started out perfectly.

You sorted more of your belongings into boxes for the movers. Everything will be shipped ahead so it arrives shortly after you do at your apartment in Virginia. You’re running ahead of schedule, so you even have time to stop for a good breakfast before heading into the office.

The day felt…too good to be true. And you quickly find out why.

“The BAU?”

Your superior, Agent Reynolds, sits across from you and raises an eyebrow, assuming incorrectly that you haven’t heard of the branch. “The Behavioral Analy—”

“Yes, I know what the BAU is,” you cut him off, something he’s used to, waving your hand sharply. “Why the BAU?”

“You were requested,” he replies simply with a slight shrug.

“By who?”

“Agent Hotchner, as I’m told.”

That is the last name you ever expected him to say.

“Hotch?” you echo incredulously. “You’re kidding.”

Reynolds sighs. “I’m really not.” You know deep down Reynolds will miss you, but he’ll also thank god every day that he doesn’t have to put up with your attitude anymore.

“Huh.” You could laugh. You almost do. “Interesting.”

Your now ex-boss gives you a look, and a sigh. “What now?”

“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head. “Agent Hotchner and I have met before, that’s all.”

+++

Ten and a half years prior to the present day, you worked on a case with Aaron Hotchner.

Key word: case. One singular case.

You were joined by agents Gideon, Morgan, and, of course, Hotchner. You were the only woman with them at the time, and that already threatened to drive you up a wall. To make matters worse, you and Hotch could not get along to save anyone’s lives.

The two of you butted heads for two weeks straight, but even that is sugar coating it. He raised his voice at you and you raised your voice right back. Of course, only in private. In the field, you were as professional as can be. But in the tiny conference room that you had to set up for them coming in unannounced? All bets were off.

You’ve never been a particularly angry person, but something about Hotch brought all your anger to the surface.

He was the most arrogant man you had ever come across. He explained things to you that you already knew, and even when you told him you were aware of the topic, he’d continue explaining like he hadn’t heard you, just out of spite.

He underestimated you in ways that had your blood boiling. He wouldn’t send you to interview anyone, despite that being your area of expertise. He had you doing busy work, like a goddamn intern.

You were your office’s own little BAU. You had read Gideon’s papers, been to profiling lectures. You became a profiler because you knew your city needed one, and by your fifth year in the office, you were one. You knew what you were doing, and Hotch treated you like a newbie.

He always walked around in a damn suit and tie. Does he not own a t-shirt? Does he know what that is? Would it kill him to breathe once in a while?

Why does he have to look like he constantly has a stick up his ass?

Of course, you aren’t totally innocent. You found his buttons and pushed them since day one. He hated being talked over or shouted at, so those became your favorite things. Especially after he began doing them to you.

Don’t disobey direct orders, he said. You did. And you got the results needed, so he had no choice but to move on.

Don’t come into the interrogation room unless asked for, he said. You did anyway. The unsub needed to feel important, a high priority, and he wasn’t. So, you walked in and told Hotch that the Attorney General of the United States was on the phone. It worked. While Hotch “spoke with the Attorney General,” you got a confession. Hotch had to thank you through gritted teeth.

When the case was solved and the BAU left town, you popped a bottle of fucking champagne. Good riddance you screamed and drank straight from the foaming top.

+++

You mutter under your breath the entire drive to the BAU. Your boxes arrived this morning, but you haven’t had a chance to unpack them, so your apartment is currently a shitshow.

And now you’re driving to deal with another shitshow.

You haven’t received any emails or texts from Hotch, which is odd, but you’re sure as hell not questioning it. The less you have to deal with him, the better. He probably shares the same sentiment, which is why he hasn’t contacted you.

From far away, Quantico looks more like a prison than it does a headquarters. You hope it doesn’t feel the same way it looks.

The BAU office is just a short elevator ride up from the parking garage, and you dread every second of it. When the doors open on the BAU floor, you want to scream.

But you’re a professional, not a toddler, so you walk your ass through the glass doors and into the bullpen, your head held high like an adult.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Hi Morgan,” you mirror his grin, accepting his hug. “Miss me?”

He’s in the same black t-shirt and black jeans he always wears, his haircut just the same but shorter. And he finally got rid of the “shaving my face every morning” routine. Stubble looks much better on him.

“For ten years,” Morgan reminds you. “What brings you here?”

You shrug cheekily, feigning innocence. “I heard there was an opening.”

His grin, somehow, grows wider and brighter. “Come here!” He tackles you in another hug, this time lifting you up and spinning you. “God is on my side to-day. Where’s Reid?”

“Putting a disastrous amount of sugar in his coffee,” a blonde woman says as she passes, then stops. “Oh, hi. I’m JJ, you must be Agent L/N. I heard you were coming in today.”

You escape from Morgan’s grip to shake JJ’s hand. “That’s me. JJ, you said?”

She nods, shifting her feet to a more comfortable position in her heels. “I’m the BAU liaison, so you’ll see a lot of me. And very little of me. It’s complicated.”

“I hear that,” you chuckle, just glad to see another woman has joined the team.

And to your surprise, another joins the circle, this one with black hair parted down the middle. “Emily Prentiss,” she says, sticking out her hand. “Are we finally getting another woman around here?”

You nod, glad to hear she agrees with your unspoken comment. “Looks like it.”

“Did someone call my name?”

You turn and see the infamous Dr. Reid stirring a mug of sugar with a splash of coffee. He’s wearing a cardigan, per usual, and what looks like the same pair converse from when you first met him five years ago at a lecture the BAU put on. He was brand new back then. His eyebrows furrow when he sees you, and then they go wide.

“Y/N? Hi!” he says excitedly, nearly spilling his drink. “It’s been so long! Wha— What are you doing here?”

You give JJ and Emily a look that only you three truly understand. “Why do none of the men assume I’ll be joining the team?”

Emily laughs. “Believe me, I wish I knew.”

“Wait, seriously?” Reid blurts. “Are you really joining us?”

“Sure am,” you grin. “And once I get out of this meeting with Hotch, you’re telling me when the hell you joined a boyband.”

“Oh, ouch,” Morgan taps Reid’s arm lightly with a grin.

“Uh, you too, Derek,” you punch him, letting him know he isn’t off the hook either. “What’s up with the shirt? Do you not own another color?”

“Damn, momma,” Morgan groans. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you,” you pat his cheek.

“I like you already,” Emily grins.

“Agent L/N,” an unmistakable voice comes from the top of the stairs, effectively ruining the moment.

He definitely hasn’t changed, you think to yourself as you slowly turn around.

“Agent Hotchner,” you mimic his tone. “Nice to see you again.”

He grips the railing a little too tightly. And he’s still wearing a damn suit, with a damn tie knotted so tight you wonder if it’s choking him. If it’s not, you want it to be. Maybe he’ll shut up then.

“I believe our meeting was scheduled for 9am,” he says, earning a sideways glance from the other man standing on the balcony.

“It still is,” you reply, looking beside his head at the clock on the wall and shit. “I’m late. That’s my fault, sir. I apologize.”

“Yes, it is,” he says. “We need to make this short. Hurry up.”

He turns and disappears into his office like some imitation of Dracula. You give Derek a helpless look.

“Welcome back,” Reid says, grimacing.

“Thanks, bud,” you reply, knowing he means well. “If any of you hear any screaming, pay no mind, that’s just how we greet each oth—”

“Agent L/N!” Hotch shouts from his doorway.

“Coming!” you shout back, just as loud and just as annoyed. “For fuck’s sake,” you mutter to yourself.

You hop up the stairs two at a time, reaching Hotch’s office in seconds.

The man that was beside Hotch offers you a smile. “I’m Agent Rossi,” he extends his hand.

“Agent L/N,” you return the friendly expression, shaking his hand, just glad that he at least seems happy to meet you. “I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

Rossi nods slowly, mouthing, “Good luck.”

You like him already. You smirk.

Hotch is standing behind his desk when you walk into his office, anger written all over his face. His arms are crossed over his chest, fingers picking at his nails ever so slightly.

“Close the door.”

“Promise not to shoot me?” you joke, but it doesn’t land. You shut the door and take a seat in front of his desk while he remains standing. “Well?”

Finally, he speaks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You let out a laugh. “Oh, great.” You sit up because this is just stupid. “Are you kidding me? This is the last division I wanted to work in, but I was transferred here. At your behest, might I add—”

“I can assure you, Agent L/N, I did not request that you join my team,” he says as he sits down, rolling toward his desk and placing his arms over the files littered before him.

“Well then Agent Reynolds is a fucking liar, I guess,” you deadpan. “He’s the one who told me I was assigned to the BAU — because of you.”

“Well it wasn’t me.”

“Glad we got that settled,” you shoot back, wanting instead to add, like I fucking care if it was you or not. “Listen, whether either of us likes it or not, I was assigned here, so I’m here. If you want me to leave, take it up with Agent Reynolds or whoever the fuck really requested me. But I can’t do shit about this, and this is now my job, so I’m not leaving just because you want to have some pissing contest.”

He looks like he’s chewing on fire. “Your job security is not my problem—”

“For God’s sake, call your fucking boss, it won’t make you any less of a man to ask a goddamn question about why you have a new agent in your office.”

Hotch glares at you, but does as you say, picking up his desk phone and pressing a few buttons.

You sit back in your chair, waiting in silence. You turn your head to look through the blinds because Hotch didn’t close them all the way, and you nearly start to laugh. Huddled around one desk, Morgan, JJ, Emily, Reid, and another blonde woman dressed in bright colors and shapes are listening intently to Reid who is no doubt lip reading and translating this entire conversation.

Finally, the line connects and Hotch starts speaking. Almost as quick as the phone call begins, it ends.

“Well?” you ask.

“There was some miscommunication,” Hotch admits, though he does not look happy about it. “Welcome to the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

You smile sarcastically. “Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”

“You’re dismissed,” he says. “We’ll meet in the conference room in five minutes to discuss the rest of today. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, sir,” you mutter as you escape his office, just glad he didn’t torture you with a handshake.

Emerging from Hotch’s office, you stand against the railing and ask the team where the conference room is.

Morgan points to your left. “Why?”

“He told me we’re meeting there to discuss—”

“That’s on hold now,” JJ says, whirling around the BAU with an armful of files. “We’ve got a case. Missing girl, thirteen years old.” She passes out files in the bullpen, handing one to you as she ascends the stairs.

“Shit,” you mutter. “How long has she been missing?”

“Starting without me?” Hotch asks as he walks out of his office. He takes a file from JJ and says a quiet, “Thanks.”

“Yep, we are,” you say right back, scanning your file. You think you hear Rossi let out a chuckle at your response. “Gone since this morning. Are they certain it wasn’t overnight?”

“The mother dropped Lila off at school this morning at seven, and by nine, she was absent,” JJ explains as everyone fills into the conference room. “They paged her at school over the intercom, but she’s not in any of the classrooms.”

“How are we hearing about this so quickly?” Morgan asks. “I mean, I’m glad, but it’s been…just over an hour. We don’t normally have this much time.”

“Because,” JJ pauses, pointing the remote toward the TV. “This is Lila’s father.”

On the screen, the FBI’s Most Wanted are staring back at you. JJ clicks again, and one face comes forward.

“Who?” Emily says.

“Richard Monroe,” Reid says aloud. “He’s been on the run for almost two years. He’s said to have killed a dozen people, all females, but they suspect there might be more. Every time we’ve come close to catching him, he gets away.”

“And now his daughter is missing,” Rossi adds. “I’m guessing this guy is our unsub.”

“I don’t know,” you stare into Richard’s eyes on the screen. “When was he last seen?”

“You can investigate that when we get there,” Hotch says curtly. “They’re waiting for us and we’ll lose time by flying. Wheels up in ten.”

Everyone files out of the room and Hotch stays back, waiting for you to be the last one in the room.

“Agent L/N,” Hotch gets your attention. “Since you’ve never tackled a case like this before, try your best to follow orders, and watch what the team does. Don’t make any rash decisions and don’t go off on your own.”

None of his comments anger you as much as the first one. “You don’t know that I’ve never encountered something like this.”

“Don’t argue with me when we have a missing girl,” Hotch snaps. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply, pushing past him.

“I hope you have a go bag,” he calls after you. “There will be no time for shopping when we’re on the ground.”

“Then I’ll just wear your clothes!” you yell back, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him. You hear Morgan snicker down in the bullpen.

“Agent L/N,” Hotch says, and when you turn around, you see he’s giving you his famous stare.

You sigh. “My bag is in my car. It’ll take me two minutes to grab it. That’s clearly less than ten. Unless you have anything else to say that might delay me further?”

“Go,” he says, waving you away as he heads into his office to grab his bag. “Now.”

+++

While you’re on the jet, you do some research on Richard Monroe. He’s a grade A piece of shit if you’ve ever seen one.

But he’s not the type to go after his daughter.

“Garcia, can you check and see if Richard tried at all to contact Lila on her cell?” you ask.

“I would, sweets, but I can’t find Lila’s phone. Their house phone, however, has no calls.”

“He wouldn’t call the house phone, not with Lila’s mom watching over her like a hawk,” you murmur.

Hotch lifts his head. “How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“That her mother would be overbearing.”

“Her father’s a serial killer on the run, Hotch,” you reply. “Any mother would keep tabs on her daughter’s every breath if she had a father like that. It’s logic.”

“She makes a fair point,” Rossi says.

“It’s unfounded,” Hotch ignores him, still dead set on irritating you. “Until you talk to her mother, don’t jump to any conclusions about her behavior.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Until I do?”

“Yes, you will be talking to her mother when we get on the ground. Morgan will go with you.” He nods to Derek. “Reid, you and JJ get set up at the precinct. Prentiss, Rossi, and I will go to the middle school. We’ll meet back at the precinct to discuss our next steps.”

You share a look with Morgan before sinking back in your chair, glaring at the file instead of Hotch.

It's going to be a long fucking day.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x you #enemies to lovers #criminal minds fanfiction #angst angst angst #The Gambit

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shashapato · 1 day ago

Text

Nevermore High School AU

For @cerealman ‘s 🤫🤫🤫🤫…secret santa present…😱🤫😬

(Merry Christmas!!!! Hoping this will make your day!!!)

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Lenore is a huge chemistry lover. She and Duke would be neutralising acids and bases at the back of the classroom then betting a ridiculous amount of money that the other won’t drink it. (Pluto has just given up stopping them and just began quietly handing Duke whatever he needs while half-listening to the lecture half-trying to make sure his friends don’t die.)

The misfits (COUGH COUGH Lenore COUGH) have probably set a fire by accident while teasing each other. 🥰 They all got in trouble.

Berenice wants to see blood under the microscope, but uhhhh, no one wants her cutting herself (or someone else).

Eulalie refuses to do dissections. FROGS ARE FRIENDS.

Prospero and Annabel make the BEST notes and Ada is begging for them at the end of class. (Annie gives it, of course.)

Will takes notes for Monty, and when desperate, Ada asks (DEMANDS) for them. (Will says no. 🥰)

No, but Prospero would wash his hands maybe ten times when in the lab, whether it’s touching chemicals or organs or anything. (Germaphobia, yes. 😭)

Montresor is OBSESSED with dissections. He finds it super fascinating and of course, loves feeling mushy organs and blood on his hands. (When Prospero is paired with him, he forces Monty to wash his hands.)

Dodgeball when it’s boys vs girls, Lenore is protecting all the shy unathletic girls from getting hit, becoming a sort of ‘saviour’. All of them fall heads over heels for her. 😔

Berenice and Lenore are the power duo.

Duke and Pluto WISHES they could be half as good bruh.

Eulalie looks like she’s unathletic, but she is FAST.

Annabel insists she shouldn’t play dodgeball because her nails will get in the way. (She tosses a ball at Monty’s head later for being misogynistic about that.)

Ada in PE is WILD. She and Will are the most competitive unathletic goblins ever. While Will uses his thin stature to sneak around opponents, Ada straight up tackles him, using the excuse “Oh, but we’re playing football, aren’t we?” “Not American football, god’s sake!!!”

I’m sorry, but Monty playing football (idc which football) AHHHHHH. He and Will joined the school team together of course. (William Wilson only joined to be in the changing room with Monty.)

Morella is Ada’s personal shield, because Ada has ZERO awareness of her surroundings when she’s focused. Morella has to run and block balls from hitting her.

Annabel in English class writing ramblings about how much she loves Lenore, but plays it off as only ‘fiction’. (I’ve done that once, IT WORKS!!!)

Lenore takes French so she could communicate with Duke in secret. Pluto attempted to, but backed out after a few failed exams.

Pluto now takes Japanese and Eulalie is his tutor. 😔

Monty is the kind to refuse to learn any language other than English, because it’s the ‘superior language’. (He takes German lol, I can see him speaking German...but like he knows only random words and shouts them to feel smart.)

Ada sucks at foreign languages, but thinks she is fluent. She’s the student that yells out answers with the strangest accent. 😭

Ada and Monty are the couple that’s ALWAYS kissing, but they broke up like ten times then got back together so everyone’s just confused.

Annabel and Lenore pass notes in class and when asked to read it out, Lenore EATS THE PAPER.

Poor Will tries to make friends and always fail.

Duke and Pluto are the gayest ‘straight guys’. (People assume they’re straight, but… 👀)

Eulalie is the weird kid that when you get to know becomes your best friend.

Merry and Mourn are kind of the weird teachers. 😭 They give you detention for no reason and can be strict.

Anygays, thank you! :DDD This has been fun!!!

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nr1chaedickrider · 10 hours ago

Text

but my best enemy is you

pt.1!!!, angst, smut, violence, it's a mess

“you're the sweetest” she says, smiling at your flushed face. her thumb softly caresses your cheek.

you lean into her touch, her soft hand on your skin was a feeling which you love more than anything.

“i love you” you whisper against her lips, kissing her slowly and passionately.

“i love you too” her voice is full of love as well as the look on her face, her smile not fading from her lips.

oh, how you wished it would stay on her lips forever.

“you're fucking unbelievable”

“i'm unbelievable? are you seriously trying to blame me?”

“call it blaming, i call it being honest and seeing the truth”

you can't read momo's expression, you can't tell what she's feeling, if she's sad, mad, or just disappointed.

your hand shakes a little, as if you're scared.

you are actually scared.

“i can't”

“we're done”

is she too?

“so just like that? that was it?”

“you're not going to fight for us?”

“you're the better fighter between us, use it in the ring - not in our relationship,”

“or whatever it was.”

“you're an asshole”

“okay”

momo swirls the ice in her drink with the straw, watching the fight that's happening.

two men who she never saw before are fighting against each other, it doesn't quite peak her interest.

she thinks it's uninteresting watching them fight - or others in general. they don't have any tension in their fights.

they simply fight to win the money, not because they have a certain history with the person standing in front of them.

basically meaning, momo doesn't care if it's strangers, she only cares when she and you fight against each other.

she knows about the rumors, she knows that more people come into the bar just to watch the two of them.

but she also believes that you don't need to know both of those things, acting cold and like she has no idea about it instead.

the fight ends and everyone but her cheers for the fighters, she turns to the bartender and orders a shot of vodka.

“momo, right?” a red haired girl asks as she sits down next to her.

momo looks at her, nods and then downs the shot quickly.

“who's asking?” she knows.

“jihyo - i'm y/n's trainer” she replies, looking at the ring.

“what are you doing here?” momo asks her, also looking at the ring.

“the same as you, watching fights”

“y/n is actually up next” her eyes widen in shock, not expecting to hear that you're fighting someone else instead of her.

before momo can ask jihyo other questions - the crowd starts to yell and cheer as you enter the ring on the left side.

jeongyeon enters the ring on the right side, receiving a lot of support from the spectators.

momo has heard of jeongyeon before, even fought against her when she first started fighting.

she asks herself who will win.

you're a strong fighter - and the fact that you're not fighting against her makes momo think that you could easily win, since there is no history, nothing that could hold you back from hitting her with all the strength you have in your body.

the referee (again, who's actually just a random guy) blows in his whistle, signaling that the fight is starting.

you block your face with your hands as jeongyeon tries to hit you, moving to the side and hitting her stomach.

jeongyeon looks at you full of anger, as if you'd done something so terrible.

she walks over to you - almost even runs - and hits your throat.

an illegal move.

you gasp for air, falling against the border of the ring, looking up to her being right in front of you.

the referee is too slow, he doesn't stop jeongyeon and she hits another hit in your face.

then your stomach, your side, your chest - literally everything she could hit before getting dragged away by the referee.

you fall down on the floor, blood coming from your nose and mouth.

momo stares at the ring in shock, not being able to move.

what just happened?

jihyo next to her calls an ambulance, rushing to you to check if you're (somehow) alright.

momo slowly stands up and walks closer, a sigh of relief (which she hopes wasn't too loud) leaves her mouth when she sees you sitting up again, holding your head and talking to jihyo (or rather, jihyo talks to you and you try not to pass out).

the medics arrive quickly, a woman with blonde hair gets into the ring and kneels in front of you so she can look at what happened.

jihyo leaves you alone, the crowd slowly relaxes and decides on doing other things than staring at you and your wounds.

everyone but momo.

her eyes are fixed on you, and her.

she can't explain why, but seeing you and her - it makes her stomach drop, gives her this uncomfortable feeling.

“you're pretty” she hears you say to her, to which the girl replies to with a giggle.

she introduces herself as sana to you (a pretty name in momo's opinion, but that doesn't change anything).

momo thinks that she's pretty and nice, she isn't a bad woman.

but she can't help herself to feel jealous.

she has no right to be jealous, but she still feels it. it doesn't matter if she wants to feel that way or not - she is jealous.

it has been exactly one week.

one week since you fought against jeongyeon, which led to multiple serious injuries.

one week since you were laughing and giggling like idiots with that medic sana.

momo hasn't been able to stop thinking about it.

she sits down next to you at the bar without greeting you.

you look at the bartender and ask him for a shot of tequila which he places in front of momo before leaving you two alone.

“your favorite” you say, not looking at her. she interrupts you though.

“how are you doing? you looked rough last week” she asks, drinking the tequila quickly after finishing her sentence.

“why do you care?” you ask back, to which momo doesn't reply (or rather - she isn't able to reply).

“what’s up with sana and you?” she says, turning the bar stool so she can fully look at you.

you laugh a little, finishing your beer, “you know, you ask a lot of questions”

she waits for you to answer her question instead of saying something else.

you sigh, realizing she's as stubborn as you often are.

“nothing much. i dont get why you would care, but we're just talking. that's all” you answer.

you turn to her, looking in her eyes, but you quickly look away.

her eyes make you nervous, even after all this time - you still get nervous talking to her.

“if you excuse me, i have to go, was nice talking to you” you say, placing some money on the table as you walk out of the door of the bar.

maybe she's stupid - but she doesn't care.

she walks out of the bar quickly, walking after you.

she sees you walking away, so she runs after you.

her hand grips your wrist and stops you from walking.

you look at her, your mouth opens to say something, but she interrupts you, again.

but this time, she kisses you.

momo pins you to the stone wall behind you, her hands grip the collar of your cropped leather jacket as her lips are on yours.

you're shocked, but you kiss her back anyway.

oh, how much you missed this.

she leaves your lips after a while, salvia connecting you two.

“i don't know why i care,” she starts speaking, her eyes focused on yours.

“but what i know is that i was jealous,”

“seeing you and sana act like we used to,”

“it made me mad, it upset me,”

“she doesn't know you like i do -”

momo isn't a bold person often, but something about today is different.

“she wouldn't be able to fuck you like i do” she whispers against your lips, her hands gripping your waist.

you look at her in silence, her statement sounding not real, like you're in a dream.

you realize that this isn't a dream though.

this time you pull momo closer, kissing her.

“let's go to my place” you mumble in between kisses.

everything happens so fast that neither momo nor you can really comprehend what exactly happens.

it's messy and needy (something you always liked).

you sit on top of momo as you’re both making out.

you lean back just a little so your lips part, taking off your shirt.

momo can't help but stare.

it's nothing crazy in your opinion, a simple calvin klein bra.

momo thinks it's so much more than that though.

you're back to kissing her as you slowly kiss down momos neck, biting and sucking, leaving hickeys all over.

you were never this eager for something, ever.

“ah fuck-... i don't know if this is the smartest thing” she whimpers, hands gripping your naked waist, fingers curling into your skin as they slightly scratch you.

the burn you feel is delicious.

“you know i always thought you are a smart girl,” you breathe out against her neck, admiring your work before going for the other side.

“but this is your time to be stupid for once” you whisper, momo bites her lip at your statement.

she pushes you away so she's able to take off her shirt. you get off her lap so you can take her jeans off, being so eager that you're almost ripping them off (if you’d listen closely you would probably be able to hear it).

“come here” she orders, pulling you closer after kicking her pants off her feet.

you're back to kissing her again, opening your mouth so her tongue can explore it.

you can't help but let out a moan when she presses her knee up to your core, grinding onto it.

you push her back down onto the mattress, leaning down so you can place kisses all over her body.

momo watches you, her breath hitches when you press a kiss on her clit over the underwear.

“that sensitive?” you tease her as you lock eyes, momo bites her lip again.

“haven’t done it in a long time” she replies.

you pull off her underwear, it slightly sticks to her because of the slick, making you laugh at her.

“yeah i bet. it doesn't feel as good when you're doing it without me” you comment.

you don't waste your time and shove two of your fingers inside her wet cunt, fucking her in a fast rythmn.

“we should do something like this more often” you smirk, kissing her naked skin.

she simply just nods, moaning and whimpering at the feeling of your fingers inside of her after so long.

you don't wait long, putting another finger in.

momo moans at the stretch, gripping the bed sheets. her bottom lip starts to bleed a little at the pressure she's applying.

“you sound so pretty for me baby” you praise her, pulling your fingers out just to thrust them into her again.

you move your head right next to hers, whispering into her ear.

“such a desperate slut for me, god.. look at you momo” the way you say her name makes momo even needier, clenching around your fingers.

“please” she begs, if you would ask her what she's begging for, she wouldn't be able to answer. her mind is clouded and full of you and nothing else.

“can you take another one, good girl?” you ask, she looks at you, breathing heavily.

“too much-” she moans.

you know how to get what you want with her.

“please baby”

“you're my good girl aren't you? i know you can take it. please, for me” she looks into your eyes, they’re full of lust, full of the desire to ruin momo.

she nods, biting her lip again. if you look closely into her eyes you can even see how glassy they are.

“that's my good girl”

you slowly insert a fourth finger, giving her time to adjust.

momo throws her head back, breath hitching at the feeling.

“you're so tight baby” you tease, slowly starting to move your fingers.

“feel so full mommy-” she whimpers, the name makes you just increasingly eager to make her finish.

you start to thrust into her, making her moan louder and louder.

“i'm so close-” she moans.

“please- let me cum.. god please y/n-” the way she's asking you for permission, how could you say no to that?

“cum for me pretty girl” you keep moving your fingers and it doesn't take long for momo to cum all over you with a loud moan, her breath shaky as well as her legs, breathing heavily as she somehow tries to calm down.

but you don't take your fingers out, looking at her ruined state.

“please” you start begging, and momo knows what you're begging for.

she also knows that she will say yes.

she'll let you overstimulate her till she's crying and sore.

it feels too good to stop.

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xoxoavenger · 2 days ago

Note

hai!! I loveee your fics and I need some angst so I was wondering if you could do a steve harrington x reader where she has a fear of drowning and ends up almost drowning?? if not it’s fine thank you

thank you so much!

Drowning

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

word count: 2712

warnings: canon typical violence, drowning (but no one dies)

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

Once again, Steve and Y/N were left holding the door as they watched Dustin run away. This time, however, he was running with Eddie, Max, and Robin, and they were in a familiar territory. This time, they would be able to get help quicker. They watched through the open windows of the boat house as their friends ran through the forest. Shivers ran through Y/N's body as she thought of the last time they had been in this position.

Only when the rest of the crew was out of sight did Y/N and Steve let go and back up. Jason Carver and the rest of the looney-bin basketball players crowded into the small shed, but the couple held their ground, turning back to back as the teenagers filled the space around them.

"King Steve," Jason started, and Y/N grabbed Steve's hand as she felt him tense. She wanted to stand up to Jason, but she knew it wasn't a good idea to leave their backs unguarded. Who knew what these freaks were planning. "And his little bitch."

"Funny of you to refer to yourself in the third person, Jason." Y/N started, taking a deep breath as Steve squeezed her hand. She wasn't even looking at the idiots in front of her, only taking in their stances, ready to pounce.

"Oh, you're not going to be smiling soon." Jason sneered out, cocking his head quickly before the boys were lunging. People were yelling at each other, and Y/N let go of Steve's hand to punch at the first man she could. She hit him good, but that was the only hit she was able to get in before someone grabbed her arm. She could hear Steve yelling at them, and she kicked out as someone grabbed her other arm.

"Get the fuck off me, you freaks!" She screamed, using all her energy to lash out. She was able to pull her arms from their grips, and got one more hit in before someone hit her twice as hard across the face. She let out a pained sound, and she heard Steve gasp.

"Get your hands off her!" He yelled, arms still held. He was able to free himself enough to elbow the idiot next to him, breaking his nose. He felt satisfaction as the dumbass let go of his arm, and he immediately pulled his arm back to punch. He knew eventually they would get back and hold him and probably beat him worse than the Russians, but as he heard Y/N cry out once more he hit the kid next to him so hard that he might have broken his knuckles.

"Oh, you're in for it, Harrington." He dodged a punch to the face but then got hit in the gut, doubling over and stumbling back into Y/N, who was now letting out a long scream. He heard the sick sound of fighting and sloppily went to hit again. Someone grabbed him once more, and then he was punched in the face, head falling as he was transported back to the Russians.

"I already told you!" He yelled, not noticing he was in the shed and not the basement laboratory. Y/N's head shot up as she stopped fighting, letting them hold her. She recognized the words, the ones that haunted her. She couldn't let Steve say that he worked at Scoops, if that's where he thought he was, because that would just make the situation worse.

"Steve!" She let them push her and Steve back to back, neither of them fighting. "Please, what do you want? Just let us go." She cried, watching Jason walk into view. She could feel her cheekbone swelling, and she could barely blink in her left eye.

"You helped kill Chrissy." Jason seethed, and Y/N just shook her head, slumping slighting and making the boys hold her up.

"No, we didn't. No one killed Chrissy," She muttered, blood pooling in her mouth. She must have cut the inside of her cheek.

"Eddie killed Chrissy," He spat out Eddie's name, and Y/N tilted her head and wished she could see Steve, who had gone quiet behind her. "And you helped him." She shook her head.

"No," But Jason wasn't listening.

"Admit it!" He screamed, causing Y/N to flinch back.

"We didn't do anything! Chrissy had been seeing things! She was going insane and you didn't even know." In hindsight, she shouldn't have said that. It's probably where shit hit the fan.

"You're going to die." Jason pointed a finger in her face, and she refused to let him see her lips tremble or her eyes water. She stared at him, straightening as much as she could with the pain she had. "You're going to die due to your worst fear." Jason was smiling, an evil, scary smile, and Y/N couldn't help the shudder that went through her.

"You don't know anything about us." She squinted, trying to feign confidence. She didn't know how or if Jason knew her worst fear, but she didn't want to find out.

"Your senior year, you won the essay contest for the scholarship." Jason leaned back, but the boys around him looked a little scared. She wanted to slap them, because they weren't the ones getting threatened with death.

"So you're obsessed with me?" Y/N cut him off, trying to stay in some semblance of power.

"Your essay was about your fear of drowning." Ice cold fear ran through Y/N's body and she couldn't hide it.

"Wait," Steve was suddenly back to the shed, his episode over for the moment.

"So, say 'hi' to the fishes for me." Jason winked, and she felt Steve press into her back more.

"What are you doing?" Steve was getting louder, and Y/N could feel him shuffling behind her.

"Stop, please, Jason!" She yelled as she felt her arms being tied to Steve. They were being tied back to back, and as much as they struggled there were multiple boys holding them, tying them as tight as they possibly could.

"You took Chrissy from me." Jason seethed, grabbing onto Y/N's arm as they were being pushed. There was a chest being shoved toward them, and then they were being thrown into it. "So I'm taking something back." The logic was flawed, and Y/N glared at Jason.

"You're done, Jason. Maybe not today, but it's coming. You kill us now, and you won't make it through the week." She knew Jason wouldn't understand it, but she was desperate.

"What do you have to say about this, King Steve?" Jason asked, and Y/N squeezed Steve's hands tight. They were squished in this chest, not even sure how they both fit.

"You've always been a shit player, Carver." Steve spit, and Jason just glared. "But you were such a shit boyfriend that Chrissy is gone now." That sealed their fate, Jason pushing the chest cover down with force.

"What are we gonna do?" Y/N whispered as they heard multiple of the basketball players pick up the chest.

"We're gonna get out." He told her, letting go of her hands and trying to pull his arms out of the rope. She moved around, hoping to make it harder for the guys to carry the chest, but the object finally fell with a thud, knocking the couple inside against each other.

"What's going on?" Y/N whispered, but the wood of the chest didn't allow her to see outside. The gaps were small enough that they could breathe, but that was it.

"We're on a boat," Steve muttered just as the engine kicked in. Y/N's heart raced, she literally felt her throat closing in fear.

"We have to get out of here." She began moving, pushing her feet against the side of the chest and pulling against their restraints. The ropes pulled against their skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the fear they were feeling.

"You can keep struggling, but the only way you're getting out of here is seeing God." Jason yelled to them, making the others on the boat laugh. They hadn't gone very far when the boat had stopped, and immediately they were being lifted up.

"See you in Hell!" Y/N screamed just as they were thrown. Her chest ached as they were submerged, the air immediately becoming moist as water filtered in. They were still back to back, now sitting because they had hit the bottom of the lake on the side that happened to be their feet.

"I'm close to getting the ropes off. I just," Steve was still moving, but Y/N was slumped against his back, all the fight gone from her. She watched the water fill the chest, and she knew they had seconds, minutes at most. It was already a foot tall, and soon it would be up to her mouth. Soon she wouldn't be able to breathe.

"Steve," She whispered, eyes falling closed in pain. She felt so helpless, so terrified.

"I've got it!" He slipped the ropes off of her hands and tried turning her around, but she was practically already dead. "Y/N," He started, and she slightly turned to him, struggling in the small space.

"I love you," She whispered, a hand moving to his cheek. Water was dripping on them, flooding up to their waists when they were on their knees.

"No, no, what are you doing?" He grabbed her wrists, bringing her back to look at her. She stared at his face, tears mixing with the water. He seemed desperate, not able to cry because this couldn't be the end. He had fought demogorgans before he had even graduated high school, had fought off a pack of demodogs to save a group of kids he had just met, had been beaten within an inch of his life by Russians.

He wasn't going to die due to a kid who pushed him overboard.

"I love you so, so much,"

"No, we've got to get out of here." He cried, moving around as he tried to find an opening. Everything he could see would just cause the cracks to let in more water, and he knew he couldn't break the wood or the chains in time. "We can, I know," She grabbed his arm and pulled him around, and he watched her looking at him in a way no one else had ever looked at him before. It made his heart ache and he wished they hadn't been so stupid.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I was so afraid. I love you. I love you, Steve Harrington." The water was pushing up, and as much as Steve was going to deny it, he knew just as much as she did what their fate was.

"It's okay," He whispered, pulling her body close. He was accepting it. "I love you too."

"I wish I told you!" She cried, not even caring that they were taking the air. They knew it was limited, but the water was going to kill them first. "It's so dumb." She was grabbing onto his wet shirt, head laying over his shoulder as his arms circled her to be close.

"It's okay," He whispered, the water now reaching their chests.

"Steve," She leaned back, hands moving back to his face. She stared at him, letting his hands grip her back. "I'm afraid," She admitted, eyes never leaving his.

"I'm right here." He pulled her as close as he could without breaking their eye contact. "I'm right here."

"Oh my God," The water was approaching their chins, and they pushed themselves up to give them more time. The air was getting thin, and her heart was racing. "We're not old enough! We're too young. Of everything we've done," She put their foreheads together, and Steve kissed her quickly and passionately until the water was at their chins once more.

"I love you," He said as she pushed her head against the side of the chest to get more time. He took a breath and then went under as she said it back.

This was it.

Y/N opened her eyes, knowing this water was gross but she wasn't going to make it anyway. She looked at Steve, who was looking at her. He grabbed her, wishing he could breathe air into her. He knew he could hold his breath for longer than she could, knew that he'd have to hold her while she convulsed.

His heart broke as he watched her let out some air slowly, like it scared her. She covered her mouth, and his face scrunched as he tried not to hiccup with the cries that were threatening to swallow him whole. So he pulled her, holding on as close as he could as his lungs burned and he hoped he would pass out. Her arms went around him, not as tight as he would have liked, and he wanted to scream when she began to go limp. He gives up then, because he doesn't want to hold onto Y/N while she convulses. He breathes out, and then forces himself to breathe in the water. It's harder than he thought it would be, and he doesn't get much in. But he can't hold his breath forever, and his vision starts to fade.

And then his arm was being dragged and he was pulled to the surface somehow.

He hadn't even noticed Eddie had opened the lock outside the chest, hadn't even noticed that him and Robin and Max and Dustin were carrying the couple up. All he could think about was breathing in fresh air. He coughed and threw up, Robin and Dustin holding onto his arms so he didn't drink the water in as he heaved. Robin had his chin in her hand, not even complaining about his puke as she made sure his chin didn't dip below the surface. He was helped into a small boat, and he only realized Y/N was in there with him when everyone started yelling.

"She's not breathing!" Robin was doing CPR as Eddie rowed, Dustin and Max swimming alongside.

"What?" Steve's brain felt waterlogged, his head heavy. The small rowing boat was shifting back and forth in the water as Robin tried her hardest to get Y/N to breathe. Steve realized he was draped over the front, in order to save space probably, as Y/N was taking up an entire row.

"We can't stop to get in the boat to help!" Max yelled, gasping as she pushed herself.

"We have to go call someone!" Dustin swam faster, pulling ahead of the boat. Robin was still rocking the boat as she pushed on Y/N's chest, and Steve wasn't fully conscious.

"Row faster!" Robin screamed.

"I'm trying!" Eddie yelled back, eyes focused on the shore that was steadily getting closer.

"Oh my God!" Robin jerked back as Y/N sputtered water out, then turned and fell off the bench as coughed and heaved, shaking.

"Y/N?" Steve tried to move back, but he was still out of it and ended up pitching forward, rocking the boat even worse. Robin falls over the edge, but luckily they're right next to the shore and she lands with her hands in the mud.

"Fuck," Y/N rasps, throwing up in the boat again. Eddie doesn't even groan, he's too busy helping Steve up.

"Come on, big guy." He groans, pulling Steve onto the grassy area and crouches to make sure he's okay. Steve's eyes are closed, but he's making small noises of pain and rolling around a little, clearly in pain. Eddie has no idea what to do.

"Y/N? How're you feeling?" Robin asks quietly, helping Y/N sit up in the boat. "Are you okay?"

"Where's Steve?" She asks, breathing heavily and looking around.

"He's over there, it's okay." Robin can barely get the words out before Y/N is up, tripping over the boat but catching herself on shaky hands and crawling to Steve.

"Steve?" She mutters, watching his eyes open.

"Baby," He whispers, energy back and causing him to sit up and grab Y/N tight. He kisses the side of her head, because she won't let go of him enough for him to actually kiss her.

"I love you," She tells him, and he can tell she's crying. He rubs her back, leaning away to reach her lips.

"I love you too."

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina @oblivion-void @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @icequeen1371 @mcueveryday @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch @freezaz123 @johnricharddeacy @sweetdreamsshifter @param8re @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @wish-upon-a-star-1310 @fangisms

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine

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smileandlove21 · 1 day ago

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Bond

"Great demon, do you still get affected by the blood moon? I never saw you every blood moon in the building." Bai Jiu suddenly asked as he continued to tally the medicines he had in stock while Zhao Yuanzhou supervised or rather watched him lazily.

"That is the reason why you don't see me every blood moon, little bunny. I stay as far away from Tiandu as possible. Are you worried for me, hmm?" Yuanzhou teases their youngest member. Bai Jiu is already a teenager, but he remains the baby of the group.

Bai Jiu scoffs at Zhao Yuanzhou's question. Bai Jiu was curious because Xiao Zhou Daren is also missing during the blood moon. The demon hunter turned demon may be helping out the great demon during this time.

"Does Xiao Zhou daren help you out? He is a demon now, a powerful one. He is also missing during blood moons."

Zhao Yuanzhou smirks at the curiousity of the young one. He wanted to tell the young doctor about the help he is getting from his idol. However, Yuanzhou knows that Zhuo Yichen will probably burn him alive if he does so.

"Maybe, maybe not. Why so curious all of a sudden? You already know that I am not in control during blood moons."

Bai Jiu turns around and crosses his arms on his chest. He knows that Zhao Yuanzhou and Zhuo Yichen are somehow a couple, but neither of them admits it. Bai Jiu and the rest just somehow concluded with how their interaction changed over time.

"Are you and Xiao Zhou daren...hmm?" Zhao Yuanzhou laughs at Bai Jiu's red face as he tries to question their relationship.

"It's better that you ask him and not me. You would not believe me if I told you."

Zhao Yuanzhou leaves the young doctor and heads towards the meeting hall, where he knows Zhuo Yichen is. As expected, the commander of the Demon Hunting Bureau is looking into the cases he needed to assign to each group. The bureau has grown so much since the Chongwu camp was disbanded.

All demon-related cases are handled by them; thus, new recruits are needed. Zhuo Yichen has his hands full as commander of the bureau. Pei Sijing helps him as well with training the new recruits.

"If you are here to distract me, the door is still open for you to leave."

Zhao Yuanzhou was not even half a step into the room when Zhuo Yichen said that. He must have felt his presence considering his heightened senses as a demon. He continued to walk inside the room and sit in front of Zhuo Yichen.

"Not even a minute to spare for your beloved ape demon, Xiao Zhou?" Yuanzhou said with a pout on his face. Zhuo Yichen sighs, knowing this man will not stop.

"What is it? We just saw each other an hour ago. I thought you were helping Bai Jiu?"

"I was rather supervising our little bunny. Did you know that he is curious about us?" Yuanzhou rested an elbow on the table with his face on his palm to get closer to Zhuo Yichen.

"What do you mean? Bai Jiu will not ask that," Zhuo Yichen said, fixing the documents on top of the table, trying to avoid making eye contact with the great demon.

"He just did. He is a young man and very curious already. He even asks what you do during blood moons. What am I supposed to respond to that? I cannot tell him that his precious Xiao Zhou daren is being pleasu..."

Zhao Yuanzhou was not able to finish his sentence when Zhuo Yichen hit his head with his sword. Yuanzhou placed his hand on his head to check the damage and flinch at the bump forming on top of it.

"You stupid monkey! Don't you dare teach Bai Jiu your antics!" Yichen exclaimed, clearly embarrassed. It was indeed a secret they never told anyone about.

It was no secret that their relationship progressed after all the events that transpired a few years ago. They didn't bother to confirm or announce it, as the people around them already knew. Actions speak louder than words as they say. What they don't know is the activity they do during a blood moon.

Zhao Yuanzhou still loses control during the blood moon. He still has his barriers up in his villa where he stays during the said season. He used to work on it alone until the couple accidentally discovered what could help ease the malicious energy.

Zhuo Yichen was in the villa when the blood moon happened. The barrier is already up even before he can escape. Zhao Yuanzhou already sensed him and made his way towards him.

"Hmm? You are now a demon. Fascinating."

Yichen knows this is Zhu Yan and not Zhao Yuanzhou. He may be a demon now, but he will not hurt or kill Zhao Yuanzhou. This version of the ape demon will not stop until he is killed or Yichen is dead.

"Why run, little dragon? We can play if you want to."

They keep on playing cat and mouse within the villa until Zhu Yan cornered him inside the bedroom. Zhuo Yichen looks at the window, but Zhu Yan closed all windows and slowly walked towards him like a predator hunting for his prey.

"What do you want?"

"You." Zhu Yan immediately caged Yichen's arms, which Zhuo Yichen tried to escape from.

"I will not kill you, little dragon. I will only pleasure you. If I wanted to kill you, I already done that in Mount Kunlun. Do you remember?"

Yichen remembers that event where Zhao Yuanzhou also lost control because of the blood moon. After the one-word spell he cast on him, the demon just patted his head and proceeded to plan his next kill.

"I don't believe you. You tried to kill me when I visited you here before." Zhu Yan lightly chuckles at that. His chuckle sends a shiver to Zhuo Yichen. He should not be affected, but he is still Zhao Yuanzhou. The only demon who can aroused the Bingyi descendant.

"I did but only because I sensed Li Lun. Do you really think I would kill the person I am bonded with? You and I are connected not only because of your love for Zhao Yuanzhou but also because your inner demon calls out to me, his inner demon."

Zhu Yan started kissing Zhuo Yichen's neck, which made the other demon moan. He wanted to stop him, but his body still responded to him.

"Give yourself to me, little dragon," Zhu Yan whispered to Yichen's ear. Zhuo Yichen wrapped his arms around the great demon and responded.

"Take me."

A loud bang on the table brought back Zhuo Yichen to present. Zhao Yuanzhou is looking at him with a teasing smile. The ape demon knows that his beloved dragon remembered what had happened during their first blood moon.

"Are you trying to reminisce that moment, Xiao Zhou? We can recreate that."

"Out. Leave!" Zhuo Yichen uses his powers to push the demon, which only made the stupid monkey laugh. His red ears always give him away as Zhao Yuanzhou walks out of the room laughing.

"Stupid perverted monkey demon!"

Author's note: Merry Christmas to all! Thank you for all the support you give to my works! 🤗

#fangs of fortune #fangs of fortune fic #zhao yuanzhou #zhuo yichen #pei sijing #bai jiu #wen xiao #ying lei #li lun #zhu yan #merry christmas

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kazucee · 18 hours ago

Text

MY NAME LIKE VELVET ON YOUR TONGUE !

pairings: [MARAUDERS] Remus Lupin x Sirius Black!

note: Merry Christmas wolfstar truthers, this is my gift to you! i missed writing about wolfstar so much and I had to make it everyone else's problem. A collection of fluffy moments where Remus is just down bad and Sirius is 'oblivious'. This was not proofread at all so I apologize if you find any mistakes! wc: 4.2k (never underestimate how much I can yap about them)

synopsis: Remus never liked his name, he always thought it sounded odd and bland. That all changed when he met Sirius Orion Black, a chaotic, mischief making boy with a smile that made him question every foundation of his character. Remus never liked his name, the only exception being when Sirius says it.

"Sirius Orion Black" the young lad introduced himself with a certain charisma, a certain aura that seemed to punctuate and bleed out of each posh syllable that slipped out of his mouth. This was the first time Remus had ever seen such pretty and well-kept hair, it made him uncomfortable and suddenly he found himself tongue-tied, deciding to remain mute as his newly acquired friends—James and Peter followed up with their own self-introductions. The lad looked at him with a raised brow seeing as he was the only one who hadn't spoken.

"And you?" It wasn't a question, more like a polite demand, an unconscious slip-up that originated from blood heritage, old money, unwanted piano lessons, perfect images and broken family lines. Remus could almost see the way this boy—Sirius, physically recoiled from the tone he had used.

"What's your name?" It came out a bit softer this time, tentative, as if tasting the way those words molded with that tone. Remus had to fight back the urge to deck him across the face.

"Remus. John. Lupin." his voice came out scratchy and rough and he hated how it sounded compared to his.

"Sirius Orion Black" James Potter yells, brows furrowed in mild contempt from across the hallway with his multicoloured locks that had just shifted to orange. The charismatic boy simply lets out a chuckle as he hides behind the conveniently placed taller man in front of him, something he seemed to do a lot whenever Remus was around. "Remus, don't you think he'd make a wonderful redhead?" Sirius snickers as he sees James heading towards the two of them, his almond eyes furious.

"Debatable." The taller boy hums, his attention split between the way Sirius was lightly clutching on his robes and the herbology readings he was trying to focus on.

"Remus John Lupin" he shifted his gaze from the book to meet those blueish-grey eyes, like the calm before a raging storm, the waves just before they take you under. Sirius had a habit of saying his full name to get Remus' attention, the other boy hadn't the faintest clue why but he won't deny that he didn't look forward to hearing the other say his name in that faint posh accent of his he tries desperately to hide.

"Moony, you truly couldn't spare me a second of your time?" A pout, a scrunch of a well-defined brow and Remus felt his heart sigh pathetically as he watched his hand betray him by tucking the Herbology text away to give the other the attention he so desperately needed (he had always had it.)

"Sirius Orion Black with the magnificent save" Usually Remus didn't care for Quidditch, he didn't care at all, he actually would rather be inside the Gryffindor common room with his books and the warm fire, not out here where the bite of winter left his throat oddly parched and nose in the perpetual state of runny. But then there he was, the star player of team Gryffindor. People would argue that that position is tailored for James Potter but Remus thinks otherwise.

There are people who shine brightly on the playing field and Remus would admit that James qualified perfectly for that—akin to the sun.

Stars however don't shine, they twinkle, pretty if you observe them enough but usually overlooked in favour of the moon.

His movements like quicksilver, Sirius easily beats the ball in the other direction without so much as a small taunting grin that makes Remus stare and stare and— it throws the entire offence side of Team Slytherin off balance momentarily allowing James to score another goal. The crowd cheers as Gryffindor finally secures a win, over the chorus of all the drums and trumpets and obnoxious screaming Remus caught Sirius patting James on the back. He was smiling again.

He didn't look away when their eyes met. Sirius flew down towards the bleachers fluidly maneuvering the broom as if he was made to be on it. His hair was a mess, thrown haphazardly into a half-moon hairstyle and Remus found himself resisting the urge to run his fingers through it. Sirius always had that specific effect on people, it wasn't just Remus. Can the boy be blamed if those ebony locks truly looked as if they were spun by the night sky?

"better than reading your boring books ain't it moony?" His voice snapped Remus out of his daze, it took all his willpower to hold his hand back, clenching his fingers into a fist as he shoved it into the pockets of his robes suddenly feeling cold despite having knitted gloves on.

“You missed that one bludger" Remus replied with a bored expression but anyone could see the way those eyes the shade of aged leather sparkled with admiration for the man in front of him.

"There's no pleasing you" Sirius groans dramatically, rolling his eyes but Remus didn't miss the small quirk of his lips into that nearly there smile.

"There's a lot of ways to please me" He finds himself saying with a shrug as he stood from his place on the bleachers,

Sirius was still on the broom in a position that no sane person would try to do. He could see the way Sirius paused in his movement on the broom, eyes meeting his again, the winter air felt a bit more warm.

"Noted." Sirius snorts as he floats a bit closer and for a moment Remus lets himself imagine.

The ebony-haired boy suddenly grins, flicks the skin between his eyes and shoots up with his broom, joining James and the Gryffindor team for a photograph. Fixing his hair as he smiles that Godforsaken Sirius Black smile.

Remus blinks. Sighs. Picks up his books and calms his beating heart.

“Moony”

“Mooonnn-”

“Oh for Merlin's sake, Sirius Black” Remus found himself groaning aloud as the man finally ceased his unwanted whines.

It was snowing harder to the point where even the all-mighty cannot be touched Sirius Black decided his talents were best spent indoors…annoying the wits out of Remus. At first, he let it slide as it was simply harmless spells being cast, a couple of pens levitated overhead, the occasional snicker that Remus would always find himself straining his ears to listen in to, the faint humming of a random tune that often had Remus rereading the same paragraph again and again.

That was until Sirius decided that Remus was far more interesting than measly levitation spells or stacking cards and unfortunately took the liberty of sitting dangerously close by and calling his nickname to get his attention.

“Sorry,” The ebony-haired boy says, tone apologetic but his grin is anything but. Remus gave a bemused glance, sparing himself from another round of whining he cleverly put his charms textbook aside.

“Fine, you win. You have my attention, what do you want.” He said rather bluntly trying to ignore the way the other looked at him like he was some sort of constellation Sirius was trying to figure out the name of (quite ridiculous considering that he knows for a fact that Sirius is updated with all the different constellations in the sky, charting stars despite claiming that astronomy was for losers.)

“Well technically I really did only want your attention” There it was, that Cheshire grin full of mischief and an underlying emotion that Remus could not for the life of him determine. His stare stayed the same, bemused, but for a brief second they wandered down somewhere other than Sirius’ twinkling grey eyes, he mentally steeled himself.

“I am picking up my charms textbook again” The brush of a hand, it wasn't his own. Sirius had reached over, taking Remus’ scarred hand in his own to prevent him from picking up the textbook.

A collective intake of breaths.

A collective shockwave of electricity humming through their bones at the contact of skin on skin. Hand in hand.

Remus then realized not only was Sirius (too) close to him but that his eyes were such a pretty mirage of blue and grey under the soft winter lighting like starlight polishing platinum. His long lashes framing those starlit eyes, a girl's envy, heck even Remus found himself envious.

Oh God. Say something. Remus found himself thinking.

“Why are your hands so cold-”

“Ditching me for a charms book-”

It seems their trains of thought ran the same track only to collide painfully. The silence was thick and uncomfortable and Remus wanted any distraction at this point, anything to keep him from staring into Sirius' eyes because the feeling he got from doing so was going to gnaw at him from the inside out.

“My hands are that cold?” Sirius with the lightning recovery breaks the silence first and Remus finally shifts his gaze towards the pale digits that were wrapped around his own hand. He did have such nice hands. Defined bones with well-trimmed nails accompanied with chipped black nail polish and sloppily drawn star designs, it almost made Remus laugh.

“Like a block of ice.” He quipped after spending an embarrassingly long amount of time staring at the others hand.

“Rude.” Without looking he could already tell that those starlit eyes were narrowed, the mere thought making his lip twitch. “I think it has something to do with poor blood circulation” Remus says, his voice trying its best to sound aloof and uncaring.

He still hasn't let go.

“And your hand is warm,” Sirius remarked softly, fingers shifting slightly to caress one of the scars littered on tanned skin. Remus swallowed thickly at the sensation.

“I have good blood circulation” His voice was less aloof, less uncaring, he hated how it sounded compared to Sirius'. His heart pounded like a drum, he wondered if Sirius could hear the symphony he caused just from a simple touch, a simple caress.

“Are you seriously saying that your blood circulation is better than mine?”

Leave it to Sirius for ruining… well a serious moment.

“Are you serious?” Remus found himself saying out loud, his voice bewildered at the audacity of this man and his ability to make the most insignificant thing such as blood circulation a competition.

“Why yes, I am Sirius.”

Impossible. The only word first that could describe the grinning idiot in front of him.

“Sirius Orion Black!” a panicked whisper rang out making the paintings huff in mild annoyance. Remus frankly didn't care, not when his best friend was minutes away from getting caught by a prefect or even worse. Argus Filch.

The darkness of the castle's hallway was their only cover—well and the invisibility cloak James had lent them. But what use did the invisibility cloak serve if one keeps making it a point to waltz around like they own the place?

“You are going to get us caught-”

“Can you stop worrying for once moony?” Sirius quickly shot back as he turned the hall with practised ease like he had all the turns memorized. A highly likely situation given that he and James have been planning this prank for months. Multiple nights of Sirius sneaking into James' bed, the whispers before one of them finally casts an Imperturbable Charm.

Remus somehow always ended up roped into these things; he was quite certain it was because of James' annoying pestering and not a certain someone giving him those stupid puppy dog eyes.

“I'll stop worrying when we actually reach our destination without any problem. Something that won’t happen if you keep prancing around like a drunk on Christmas Eve.” Remus hissed out annoyed out of his mind, emphasizing the ‘prancing around’ part, the painting in the hall gave a few grunts of displeasure at the ruckus the two were causing.

“How many times must I repeat myself—we will be fine. Either way, if I get caught you won't be affected seeing as you're invisible” Sirius prattled on, abruptly facing Remus or at least where he thought Remus was situated.

Remus didn't have the heart to tell Sirius that he was actually not beside him but behind him. Well no—it was more like he found it amusing. Watching Sirius talk to thin air like he had gone mad. He took a moment to marvel at how terrible the other was when it came to pinpointing the source of his voice.

“and plus it's hot in the cloak” Sirius added with a huff and he sees him turn his face from ‘Remus’. That was a point Remus couldn't refute, after all, they weren't exactly children anymore. During their 1st and 2nd years all four of them could easily fit in the cloak, right now even with two people it felt cramped and Remus didn't want to imagine what it felt like being pressed close against Sirius shuffling around in the dark.

His cheeks felt warm and he immediately thought of something else. The silence continued. Sirius wandered the halls whilst Remus trailed behind him like a shadow.

If there was something Remus was sure about it was that Sirius couldn't bear the silence, always using that loud mouth of his to fill it with nonsensical rambles. Apparently sneaking around wasn't an exception to that endearing annoying trait of his.

“It would be hilarious to run into Minnie” Remus could almost hear Professor McGonagalls eye roll at the telltale nickname Sirius and James so graciously bestowed on her. “I also can't wait to see the look on snivellus’ face when-”

Remus heard it first and acted so quickly that he didn't have time to register it himself. The sound of footsteps, the tug of an arm, the small ‘oof’ sound Sirius let out when Remus pressed him against the wall effectively concealing them both under the invisibility cloak.

First, it was dark and only their breathing could be heard. Remus tried his best to look away from Sirius because only Godric Gryffindor himself knew how much self-control he had and how much he was willing to throw away just to—

Footsteps. Then the warm glow of a lantern. Filch appeared from the corner with Ms. Norris behind him, the beady-eyed cat let out a yowl almost as if it could sense the presence of two boys hiding in plain sight. Remus felt Sirius shift uncomfortably as if trying to put more space between them and failing to do so. The motion caused Remus to break that internal rule he placed in his mind(the‘don't-look-at-Sirius-when-he-is-dangerously-close-to-you-rule’)

‘Filch’ Sirius mouthed once the two made eye contact.

Remus had always been good at reading lips, and Sirius had always been good at enunciating his syllables. Something that Remus was made painfully aware of at this moment.

Their only source of light was the warm glow of the small lantern Filch carried in his hand; as he moved, the light would shift as well, perfectly highlighting all the sharp contours of Sirius’ face. Sirius and his stupidly good-looking face, with his stupid lips-

‘Remus’ Sirius looked alarmed

He tenses when he hears Mrs.Norris let out yet another meow, this time closer.

“What is it girl?” he hears Filch approach and his heart practically performs a whole gymnastics routine right then and there.

‘MOVE.’ Sirius’ eyes seem to say, wide with alarm as he grabs the wrist of Remus’ left hand, he could see the way those eyes frantically looked behind him in panic. Honestly, when it came to fight or flight situations Remus would choose neither as he believed in his capabilities of not getting into such predicaments. But he could hear Filch and Mrs. Norris getting closer by the minute. He grabs his wand quickly

Quietus.

He uttered the spell in his mind, he didn't think it'd work—he never tried mentally casting a spell but at this point he was desperate. There was a small tingle that ran through the entirety of his body before reaching the tip of his wand, the spell had been casted. His other arm circled easily around Sirius’ waist and Remus was rewarded with a small surprised squawk and with little to no effort he hoisted the other boy up, one arm hooked under his knees with the other supporting his back. He heard the cat hiss in contempt as he ran away, Sirius despite being stunned still managed to pin the invisibility cloak to them as Remus ran, he didn't stop till he was sure they were far away from Filch and Mrs. Norris.

“Remus. John. Lupin.” Sirius’ voice danced and coated every single syllable of his name with that honeyed posh accent of his but Remus could tell by the way it shook in the end that he was nervous (or ecstatic? You can never tell in Sirius' case)

He realized he was still carrying him. He didn't want to let go. His fingers twitch slightly under the weight of Sirius, he weighed nothing, or was Remus convincing himself of that because he wanted to hold the other close for just a moment longer.

He made a plan in his mind. It was simple really as it only required two steps.

If Sirius told him to set him down he would.

If Sirius doesn't then he won't.

He lets the silence ruminate for a bit, his earlier run turning into a slow easy pace.

Sirius is in his arms.

His heart was pounding hard. With how close Sirius was he was sure the other could feel it, feel it reverberating throughout every cavity of his being. He didn't think to reply back to him, just relishing in the way his name was said.

If Sirius had any plans on getting off he didn't make it known. It was only until they reached the Gryffindor common room with James' curious smile and Peter's half awake mumbles did Sirius react, shifting to get down. Remus let him, finding himself stupidly missing the weight.

“Sirius Orion Black what in Merlin's name are you doing?” Remus always had that one particular spot in the library, a spot that was hidden away from all the sounds of quills scribbling and soft murmurs of practice spells. When he wasn't running around with the Marauders or lounging at the Gryffindor common room he was found here.

“Joining you? To study?” Sirius replied casually, accentuating that point by slamming a tower of textbooks on the table making the library's noises pause for a bit, as if sensing a newcomer. Remus glared at him already feeling a headache forming, a very Sirius Black specific headache.

“You don't study” Remus eyed him quizzically, his ebony hair more ruffled and fussed through as he sat down next to him.

“I do!”

“No you don't.”

Silence. Remus was staring at him, head cradled against his palm. Sirius glanced at him then at the tower of books. Remus spotted a divination book as he read along the spines of the tower. “I thought you hated potions.” Remus remarked casually making Sirius flinch as if he had been caught, as if he had just coincidentally wandered into the library, grabbed whatever book he could find to add to the already accumulating pile of books, like he was looking for some kind of excuse.

“well yes…but you love potions don't you moony?” Sirius asks perfect brow arched. Remus huffs out a small snort leans against his seat and runs a hand through his messy brown locks. “Perchance. However Lily is way more brilliant-”

“Teach me,” Sirius proclaimed loudly in a haughty tone and his sudden skittish demeanour completely vanished. With eyes narrowed and lips pursed in contemplation Remus glanced at him then at his coursework that he had yet to finish.

“And what's in it for me?” He mused.

“You can't just do it because I'm your best friend? And the fact that I'll flunk out if I fail the next test?” Sirius says with a bruised expression, Remus rolls his eyes at the others wounded puppy look. He knew for a fact that Sirius—despite disliking a lot of subjects—actually has a natural talent for perfecting them. He also knew that Sirius studies just as hard as all of them but he keeps that mask of ‘i didn't study at all' whenever anyone would ask him. So he knew that Sirius couldn't possibly be failing potions, his pride and ego wouldn't allow it.

“... what's in it for me Black?” Remus repeated his tone amused. Amused in the way Sirius rolled his eyes and let out a small huff of annoyance. Remus liked it when he didn't give Sirius what he wanted right away, there's a certain appeal to it.

“I won't drag you out of bed for the next two Quidditch matches.” tempting. But Remus simply remained silent, brow raised.

“I'll stop charming your things to disappear and reappear in different places” Remus bristled.

“Wait so that's why my quills ended up under Pete's bed-”

“Anyways-”

“If you want me to even have you sit next to me, you'd stop that” He threatens pointing his quill at Sirius, his only response was a bright grin showing pearly white teeth.

“Oh I know ! How about I treat you and the guys to butterbeer in hogsmeade?” Sirius suggested, his eyes sparkling at the idea and it made Remus’ heart clench painfully.

Ah yes, the infamous Hogsmeade trip was coming up. To Remus' dismay both James and Sirius wouldn't take him wanting to cozy up in bed with a book as an answer. At the others expecting look he gives a small sigh, saying a small goodbye to his self respect and silently acquiesces.

“Pull out the Potions textbook- no not like that-” He quickly stops Sirius from recklessly toppling the entire tower of books onto both of them.

“Alright Professor Lupin. Let's begin.” a grin and a small shove from Remus and the two finally started on their lesson.

★

It didn't even surprise Remus anymore. The soft snores that are barely even noticeable unless you listen in carefully, ebony locks splayed messily across the mahogany table, coursework and textbooks surrounded a sleeping Sirius 'just a few minute break’ Black. The two worked for a decent hour and a half before Sirius kindly asked (pleaded) for a break then proceeded to nap for the next twenty or so minutes leaving Remus in silence again.

Saved for the small intakes of air. Remus shouldn't have found it distracting. But when he found himself messing up simple arithmetics because of it he promptly pushed away his coursework and buried his head in his arms, his mind letting out a silent scream.

He was sure Sirius had planned this the entire damned time. He always had a knack for distracting Remus at the worst possible moment. He lifted his head slightly leaning it so that his cheek was against his arm and that he had a clear view of Sirius sleeping face.

In the dim light of the library the strands of his hair appeared like spilled ink draping his pale face. Remus admired him for a small moment. He looked peaceful, his brow relaxed, chest rising and falling rhythmically. Remus admired all the features he never got to because of his strict ‘don't get too close’ policy when it came to Sirius. But sleeping Sirius was different from awake Sirius so Remus made exceptions.

He moved just a tad bit closer.

Sirius had clear skin; he wondered how soft it'd feel under his skin. There were a couple moles littered here and there, under his eye, on his jawline, one on the apple of his cheek. The most shocking discovery is the barely there scar located over his brow.

Remus’ traitorous hand moved first tracing the contours of Sirius' face, his touch light and fleeting, a hair's breadth away from the others skin. He swallowed thickly, feeling his heart rise from its place in his ribcage all the way to his throat. His hand pulled away only for it to land on the soft wisps of inky locks, he pushed it back tucking it behind Sirius' ear.

He really wanted to kiss him.

He might just do it.

He stares long and hard at the others slightly parted lips. It was unfair at how pleasant they looked, almost tempting him to seal them with his own, just an innocent peck would send him overboard—heck even imagining kissing his best friend was enough to muddle his mind.

He takes his hand away gently and as soon as he does a sort of longing hits him. Longing to card his hands through the others hair, to caress his cheeks, to map the location of all his moles and burn them into his memory, to find out the scars that marred his skin and to show him his own ones.

He leans in.

skin meets skin. Warmth steeped in warmth.

His lips brushed against the other's forehead for a brief moment before he pulled away. Those brief moments felt like eternity, a thousand heartbeats expressed in a simple innocent peck.

Remus pulled away. His cheeks prickled with heat as he focused his attention back on his arithmetic homework, making it a point not to look at Sirius or even think of Sirius.

He missed the smallest quirk of lips and the hammering pulse of the ‘sleeping’ wizard beside him.

Note: made it to the end? Have a cookie 🍪 the plot was non existent and I feel like I fudged up the pacing a bit TT? Can you tell I just wanted to write about the two of them TT (I might make this a mini series because I plan to write part two ! This time instead of names it's kisses mwhehehe so stay tuned for that one) 𐙚 reblogs, comments, and likes are always much appreciated.

Art: Anteyka (GUYS IF YOU KNOW THE ARTIST PLS DM ME. a Pinterest comment says it's them but I'm not 100% sure!)

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awardenandacrow · 2 days ago

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FANFIC SNIPPET 17

[Naimeryn has been cutting down hanging Shadow Dragons in Dock Town for weeks, causing kerfuffles with Venatori every time. The team is sworn to Not Tell Neve, but this is Neve Gallus we’re talking about. Rana is worried Rook is burning herself out picking the wrong fights for the wrong reasons, even if the general population’s spirits do raise temporarily each time. Neve decides she needs to step in.]

NOTE: this snippet falls chronologically after the “Rook is clumsy” snippet

CW/TW: blood

——————————————————————————

“Rook, good. I need to talk to you.”

Naimeryn just about jumped out of her skin at the sound of Neve’s voice to her left. She tripped over the broken table and hit the floor hard, scrambling quickly to her feet.

“Come on, Rook, *again?*” Davrin groaned. “You’re giving the Wardens a bad name.”

“Her left,” Lucanis snapped at him, and her cheeks burned. He sounded so offended on her behalf. “Out, come. Let’s let them talk. Nice to see you, Neve.”

“Lucanis,” she allowed him an appreciative nod.

Naimeryn waited for Davrin and Lucanis to leave, then turned her attention back to Neve. She wore her usual coat, but her hat sat next to her on the table against which she leaned. Naimeryn opened her mouth to ask the stupid question of how she was doing, but something in Neve’s expression gave her pause.

“Back to cut down a few dozen more Shadow Dragons? Take out a few Venatori guards?”

“I…” Naimeryn frowned. Neve’s face was, as usual, unreadable, but her tone was… disapproving? “I didn’t really want you to know I was doing that but… I kind of thought you’d be happier about it?”

“You can’t fix what happened cutting them down every night,” Neve told her. She looked… tired. Stressed. Sad. Naimeryn’s heart ached.

“I — I know —“

“Do you?” Neve asked, standing abruptly. Naimeryn shrank back. “Do you know what the others say when you do it? Tarquin thinks what you’re doing is a penance that needs to be paid. When you get hurt — don’t look surprised, I know you got hurt — He thinks it serves you right. He doesn’t celebrate the ones you cut down, just for them to be replaced in the morning. You’re just making it easier for the Venatori to string up more!”

Neve’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, and Naimeryn thought her rib cage was going to tear itself apart.

“Is that what *you* think?” She whispered.

Neve looked surprised. “*That’s* your question?”

Naimeryn swallowed thickly. “I don’t care what Tarquin thinks. But you…”

Naimeryn swallowed again. Neve was hurting. This was about Neve, not her. “If you need me to stop, I won’t promise to like it. But if what I’m doing is making it harder on you… I’ll stop.”

“Rook,” Neve sighed. “You made an impossible choice without all the information. *Any* information. You thought we had it. And now, you can’t forgive yourself for being wrong. But Rook… we have enough fires on our hands without you running around Dock Town punishing yourself.”

“I’m not —“

Neve crossed to Naimeryn in two easy steps, grabbing her wrist and shoving her sleeve up roughly. Naimeryn yelped in surprise and pain, some of the bandages bloody despite having been changed that morning.

“What do you call this, Rook?” Neve demanded. “Do the others even know? Your new Warden friend? Does *Lucanis* know? I know *Lace* hasn’t been taking care of these. You’re wearing yourself out and being reckless! The others are worried about you. Rana is worried about you.”

She paused, then, “*I’m* worried about you,” she sighed.

“They deserve better than hanging in there streets they died protecting,” Naimeryn snapped. “I just thought I could —”

“No,” Neve shook her head. “This is about you, not them.”

Neve jabbed her finger unforgivingly into Naimeryn’s chest. “So you’re going to stop being *stupid,* and you’re going to get your head on straight, and remember that if we stop these damned gods, we’ll stop the Venatori.“

“We?” Naimeryn asked in a small voice. “Does that mean you’re coming back to the Lighthouse?”

“Soon,” Neve said quietly. “Now come on, let’s get these cleaned up. I heard you’re hunting down a treasure buried beneath Minrathos… it’s a myth, you know?”

*Neve is later disappointed to hear that the treasure was not, in fact, a myth*

#fanfic #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age rook #my rook #rookanis #rook x lucanis #dragon age #rook #original character #davrin #lucanis x rook #lucanis dellamorte #neve gallus #minrathous #the choice #fanfic snippet #headcannons

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sirbonesly · 3 days ago

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In another world, Roach finally finds his Ghost

This is dedicated to @briarscreek who I promised some Roach rambles but instead somehow broke my writers block. It got a little out of hand, and I'm not used to writing for CoD yet, so I apologise if anyone feels out of character or if it has any mistakes.

TW: Mentions of child abuse, mentions of burns/fires, I think that's about it.

Second lieutenant Gary Sanderson climbed out of the back of the truck, adjusting the straps on his vest before helping unload the truck of equipment. Bee pushes the crate towards the edge of the truck, and Gary grabs the handle to help carry it off. They drop the crate by the others, nodding to a dark skinned soldier with a clipboard and a baseball cap. He goes to turn, wanting to help unload the last two crates, but the man grabs his shoulder with a polite smile.

“Sergeant Kyle Garrick. Captain Price wanted me to introduce you all to the base before the briefing.”

Gary stares at the man for a moment, eyes flitting over his face from behind his goggles. He knows he should be speaking right now, that his mouth should be moving behind his mask and words floating through the air. But it takes longer than is considered polite.

“Second lieutenant Gary Sanderson. Call me Roach.”

Kyle either doesn’t notice the prolonged silence or doesn’t mention it, which Gary is thankful for. They nod to each other, Kyle not bothering to salute and Gary honestly not caring. His captain, Spencer Anderson, had warned him that the 141 played fast and loose with regulations and rules. Not that he cared much for them himself, but he was glad for the warning anyways.

Sergeant Belinda Hughes, aka Bee, called out to him from where she’s dragging a crate. Gary gives Kyle another nod before leaving to help his team unload. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach, one he hasn’t felt since his childhood, and he’s forever grateful about his mask and goggles. He’ll ignore the feeling for now, it’ll either dissipate or it’ll makes itself obvious soon enough. Either way, Gary has a briefing to go to.

~~~

Simon doesn’t like the second lieutenant. To be fair, he doesn’t like a lot of people, but the second lieutenant, Sanderson, just pokes at something in him. He’s sitting too close to Gaz, laughing too loud at Soap’s jokes, he’s too impersonal with his own soldiers. But it’s not a regular dislike. It’s like looking at a puzzle piece that almost fits, the right colour, the right shape, but just different enough to not fit.

Simon doesn’t talk to Sanderson during or after the briefing. He knows that they’ll have to interact, both of them being lieutenants, but he’s planning to keep everything short. He’ll go through the mission like every other mission, keep a closer eye on his sergeants, and then wait for the team to leave. Price told him to play nice, that this team was full of potential and had more than a few eyes on it. It wouldn’t do good to create bad blood between them.

~~~

The mission goes well, minimal injuries and a successful grab and go. Gary’s team was tasked with infiltrating the compound and grabbing several hard-drives worth of information. The 141 was on watch, being comprised of snipers. The only major injury was Gary, a shot that grazed his side, just barely missed his vest. It was a lucky shot from the guy, but one of the 141 had dispatched him barely a second later.

Bee and sergeant Antonio “Texas” Valdez need to drag Gary to the infirmary. He’s reluctant to go, not liking the idea of missing the group debrief because of a graze. But when Bee and Texas shove him towards one of the nurses, he finds that he’s not alone. Lieutenant Ghost is getting his arm stitched up, his gear gone to leave him in his jeans and shirt. Gary has to wonder how the hell Ghost beat him here, the 141 truck had pulled in behind theirs.

“Go ahead and sit down, Sanderson. One of my nurses will be by to stitch you up.”

Gary sits on the small bed across from Ghost, and he can’t help but turn over all of the information he has about the lieutenant. Ghost hadn’t given a name, just a call sign. Gary didn’t give his call sign, too busy trying to keep Bee from bullying Texas. Ghost is massive, easily one of the biggest guys he’s seen besides that one Austrian kid over at KorTac. Gary’s not small by any means, 175 centimetres and a little over 80 kilograms, he’s packing some muscle. But Ghost is nearly a head taller than him, easily twice his width, probably over 100 kilos.

They sit in silence as the nurse stitches up Ghost, another nurse coming in to start stitching up Gary. He sheds his vest and jacket, grimacing at the hole in the car-hart. The nurse guides him to lay on his side, and he ends up facing Ghost as the nurse stands behind him. He tries not to make eye contact with the lieutenant as he winces from the sharp needle. Shoot or stab him, and Gary will brush it off to get the mission done. But bring a needle to his skin and he’s practically a kid again, wincing and fidgeting and pushing down tears.

~~~

Simon had a friend when he was a kid, back before Tommy got custody of him and his parents were arrested. Living in an apartment meant Simon knew almost everyone on his floor, and that meant he was there when some short bastard moved in as his neighbour. Only a year younger than Simon, the kid latched onto him like a microfiber towel, and then grew on him like fungus.

He doesn’t remember the kid’s name, just the nickname Simon gave him. He watched the kid take a punch right to the face, watched the bully turn away laughing, and then nearly screamed when his friend jumped up with a bloody nose and a black eye like nothing happened. Simon never called him anything but “Roach” after that, liked the way he popped up to his feet no matter what.

Unless it was a needle. This kid, one who took a baseball bat to the ribs and still managed to run for gym the next day, nearly fainted when the school was doing their vaccines. 7 years old and balling his eyes out, holding Simon’s hand like it owed him money. Simon remembers telling him that needles weren’t scary, that Roach was being a wuss. But he still made Tommy take them out for ice cream after school, still gave Roach his free piece of fudge that came with the cone.

Simon looks at the second lieutenant lying on the bed, tears in the man’s eyes as the nurse stitches him up. Simon hadn’t given out his name to the visiting team, content to keep his identity a secret just for fun. He’d been the one to shoot the tango Sanderson was fighting, the one who’d been just a second too late to prevent injury. Simon had been prepared to switch his comms to their team, to the 283 frequency and let them know their second lieutenant was injured. But the man just got up, popped to his feet like it was nothing and continued with the mission.

That’s when Simon knew why he didn’t like Gary Sanderson. He was familiar. Without being able to see his face, Simon had been forced to watch mannerisms. Skittish around strangers, able to fit into a surprising amount of spaces he shouldn’t be able to fit into, and resilient as hell. He acted like a fucking roach. He acted like Simon’s best friend. The one that he watched die, missing during a fire in their apartment building, one that Simon himself barely got out of. The best friend that dropped off the face of the Earth after that, no funeral, no mention in the local paper. Just gone.

The nurse has been finished with Simon’s stitches for a long while, but the lieutenant just sits and watches this grown man cry over getting stitches, over the needle. He knows, despite his mind trying to tell him the logic, that Gary Sanderson is familiar for a reason. Tries to ignore the slim chances that Simon would get such a lucky break in his life. But it’s not him that speaks up, it was never him who made the first move during childhood.

“You gonna watch me cry, sir?”

~~~

The words have more of a bite to them than is probably respectful, but Gary is feeling a bit embarrassed at the moment. The nurse is finally done stabbing him and has moved on to bandaging him. Ghost is just watching him, and Gary takes the chance to look over the man. Wearing the short sleeved shirt, Gary can see the edges of a burn scar peaking out from the sleeve, mostly covered by the sleeve tattoo. Gary’s not judging the scar, not when half of his chest is just one large burn that creeps up his neck and jaw. But there’s something familiar about it.

There’s something familiar about the honey brown eyes of Ghost. How despite the confident air around him, Gary can see the way his shoulders are tense and his eyes dart between the stitches on Gary’s side and the tear stains on Gary’s face. Can see recognition in those honey coloured eyes.

The moment the nurse leaves, with orders for Gary to take it easy and for Ghost to be careful with his arm, the air gains tension. Or maybe it was already tense, but being alone together just brought attention to it. Because Ghost stands up as Gary turns to lay on his back, the lieutenant coming to stand next to Gary’s bedside. Officially, they’re both free to go, but neither of them move to actually leave.

"You always cry from needles?”

The question is unexpected, makes Gary tense up and grimace behind the mask. But it’s the first time he’s heard Ghost speak beyond barking orders over the comms. Gary is thankful that the bullet grazed his clean side, the unburned side. Because being asked about needles is much easier than trying to explain the burns.

“Yessir. Ever since I was a kid, couldn’t stand needles. Nearly broke my friend’s hand during school vaccinations.”

And oh dear, it must’ve been the right thing to say because Ghost tenses up like a deer in headlights. He raises a slightly shaking hand to his face, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door and the blinds pulled shut, before grabbing the back of the balaclava.

Gary can feel tears pool in his eyes as he find those familiar brown eyes again, his stomach twisting with too many feelings to decipher. Relief, surprise, anger, longing. But Gary manages to lift a very shaky hand to his goggles, pulls them up to rest on his helmet, pulls down the neck gaiter he likes to wear.

“Simon.”

“Roach.”

The names are traded, a mountain of questions being placed on each. Where have you been? What happened? How are you here? Each question hangs in the air, waiting for an explanation, needing an answer. And Simon, for the first time in his life, speaks up first with Roach.

“You died. The apartments burned down, they didn’t get you out.”

“My mum threw me out a window.”

Simon makes a pained noise that almost sounds like a laugh, a bewildered look pulling at his face. It makes the scar on his lips pull up, the upper row of teeth just barely visible through the gap of muscle. His eyebrows twist upwards and his eyes widen slightly, just like they did whenever Gary said stupid shit as a kid.

“My mum, she threw me out of the window cause the door was blocked. Landed in the dumpster outside of the building, firefighter found me after most of the ambulances left.”

“Oh.”

Simon sits down in the chair next to the infirmary bed, arms crossed over his chest as he tries to wrap his mind around the explanation. He knew Gary’s mum had loved him on some level, though it never stopped her newest boyfriend from sneaking into Gary’s room some nights. So it shouldn’t be a huge surprise that she tried to save him, but it still makes Simon want to laugh.

Simon pulls his phone out, an old thing with a cracked screen that Laswell had practically forced him to get. It’s only got a few contacts on it, Farah and Alex, some of the Los Vaqueros, Laswell herself, and his team. Jonny’s at the top, a soap bar emoji in place of a name and a star marking him as a favourite. Simon makes a new contact, putting a cockroach in the name line and marking it as a favourite before handing it over to Gary.

The second lieutenant takes the phone with a confused look, understanding flashing across his face when he sees the empty contact. He punches in his number quickly, something close to excitement starting to bubble up in his chest. He knows that this isn’t how old friends are supposed to greet each other, but Simon and Gary were never normal friends.

So, he takes a blurry and picture of his face for the contact picture and hits the save button, handing the old and busted phone back to Simon. He watches as his old friend pockets the device, his mind still trying to wrap around the situation. But Gary can adapt and survive, it’s why he earned the nickname “Roach”. His face pulls into a smirk as he looks over Simon’s shoulder, seeing a frantic looking scott arguing with a nurse.

“So… what’s going on between you and MacTavish?”

“Shut the fuck up,”

#cod 22 #roach cod #gary roach sanderson #gary sanderson #simon ghost riley #ghost cod

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dreams-of-beloveds · 1 day ago

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HORIKOSHI WHEN I CATCH YOU HORIKOSHI

why in the fuck were we left on cliffhanger for the end of season 7. i’m so- i don’t even know how to feel right now, because i wasn’t even expecting us to be left on cliffhanger, and THE NEXT SEASON DOESNT EVEN COME UNTIL AUTUMN R U KIDDING ME how am i supposed to cope?!?? sure i still have the ova’s and the films left to watch bUT STILL MAN I FEEL SO EMPTY RIGHT NOW DAMMIT

god i have so much to say about season 7—not only was watching the todoroki family the most devastating thing ive ever witnessed—their family history is so intricately tangled and i really wonder if touya is still alive (i haven’t read the manga, i hope he is, and i don’t wanna read it online dammit) i want to see them come to a proper closure so bad i need them to be okay with each other even if endeavor isn’t forgiven (which is honestly valid) i want this family-against-touya-to-protect-everyone-else situation to bring them together in some way dammit!

and then we had the togachako moment. oh lord. oh lord i love them, they’re so—yeah sure i see them as a queer ship, but god fucking dammit after hikimo finally came to accepting her smile and her way of showing love being “normal” because of ochaco’s words and coming to the conclusion that all she ever needed was to “give blood like how she wanted to have someone else’s” HIMIKO BETTER NOT BE DEAD DAMMIT DONT TELL ME THAT CONFESSION MIDAIR AND THE SHARING HIMIKO’S BLOOD TO KEEP OCHACO ALIVE WAS ALL FOR NOTHING

oh god and fucking hawks. oh jesus. i wasn’t expecting his quirk to be taken completely. i honestly have no idea what his ending holds, but god dammit i hope he’s alive, i know his worst fear was getting his quirk taken when that’s what made him “the best” in the first place because he was literally groomed to become a hero due to his quirk despite growing up around villains, i can’t imagine how he’d be feeling—but fuck, fuck the burden he must’ve carried for having to kill bubaigawara even though he didn’t want to, he just found a genuine friend when working undercover and yet, he almost had to face the wrath of the sad man’s death legion through himiko oh man i couldn’t stand seeing him just,, fall, after everything

all might, oh, all might. this man is in his 50s and yet still can’t let his work go can he? this damn workaholic. but seeing him with his support items all including his students quirks 🥹💔 this man adores his students so much, if he doesn’t fucking stay alive after defeating afo i’m gonna fucking riot, RIOT I TELL YOU i sure fucking hope this isn’t the ending nighteye had foreseen about all might’s death because i swear to god, hell i fucking know nighteye would’ve been so mad seeing all might go into that war against afo quirkless with only support items he would’ve been MAD AND YK WHAT SO AM I BITCH SO HE BETTER COME OUTTA THIS ALIVE

and hell we don’t even know what the situation with aizawa, present mic and kurogiri is??? WHAT HAPPENS I NEED TO KNOW I NEED THEM ALIVE i don’t fucking know if shirakumo ever comes back, he was dead to begin with, i don’t think he’s gonna but damn can aizawa and hizashi get the closure they deserve? thats all i want for them, for them to be able to work alongside shirakumo’s “soul” one last time and have some form of closure dammit

and well, i left bakugo katsuki at the end of this fucking rant because i need him alive. i remember seeing so many damn parallels of kudo—and how his expression in afo’s hands looked so defeated, as if he was ready to die for yoichi, meanwhile katsuki, fucking bakugo katsuki, he’s not ready to die, yes he fucking moved through that pain to blast one last move in shigaraki’s face knowing there was a possibility of not making it but GOD DAMMIT I DOUBT HE WANTS TO LEAVE IZUKU BEHIND NOT YET and him fucking talking to all might’s vestige. god i genuinely was bawling so much. the voice, the expression, god just looked so, so vulnerably soft which he’s never let himself before, except for when he apologises to izuku to bring him back to UA. but god fuck, how- what- HOW DO I COPE Y’ALL HELP ME SOMEONE TALK TO ME IM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND

there’s so much fucking more i could yap about right now but it’s 1:15 am, my hands are hurting, my eyes are burning from crying so much after it ended, and my brain is dead. i can’t do this man

P.S. as someone who holds too much emotional intelligence and is studying psych, you can never make me hate any villain because i will always understand their pain too well, even if i don’t justify certain actions

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dismas-n-dismay · 2 days ago

Note

HI HELLO I'M HERE FOR THE ANIMALISTIC FEATURES ON D(A)EMONS TED TALK

I’ve been waiting for you. *sits and turns in my swivel chair evilly with my hands pressed together at their finger tips.*

Full Explanation on Animalistic Traits on D(a)emons in no assorted order under the cut (with art included) @bazpire @vind3miat0r (tagging y'all cause I finally made the damn post)

(From left to right, Gavin, Caelum, and Azmidi in both their material forms and their pure demonic forms visualized)

Fear demons are very Creepy Crawlie based! That being said nearly all of them have amphibious/reptilian traits! Though they don’t have blood they do appear to at least feel cold blooded and do enjoy similar activities that reptilians might like sunbathing or anything equivalent!

Fear demons have Very thick and long tails, some have tails that end in fins or have extra fins on the side but that differs from demon to demon. Most fear demons have black sclera or entirely black eyes that are Very sensitive to light leaving them to only coming out at night which is both great for feeding but sucks because they get limited sunlight unless wearing sunglasses :[

Fear daemons tend to be cooler/dry colors! They’re not exactly pastels, think more calm and soothed colors that blend in w their surroundings.

For Example (of a standard fear demon): The Caller Boi is a light grey, fully scaled demon with a long tail that’s finned at the end and has smaller fins on the side! His tongue is fully that of a lizard (he can grab food with it!) and is forked, he also has heat pits underneath where his nose would be! His hands and feet are clawed and his hair is long, black, and oddly limp. His hair is incredibly long and always vaguely sopping wet looking, it also kind of looks like deep dark Kelp.

Most fear demons have longer hair/hair that very much seems uncared for, either too oily, or too dry, or too wet. Very much unnatural/uncomfy looking. Their eyes are usually obscured by their hair to keep them safe and few fear demons feel a need to show their eyes since the whole “Tall, oddly colored, long limbed creature in your room watching you” thing is enough to get a reaction and feed as is.

Most fear demons Do Not wear clothes. They don’t actually have any genitalia or defining features sexual and the effort to make clothes at both fit their proportions, feel comfortable against scales or oddly smooth/silky/slimey skin, and have tail holes is too much for any of them to Want to do unless they genuinely find it fun. So if you see one of these guys in public, don’t stare. They’re just doing their thing. Also they will notice you and will end up following you home :] (fun new buddy who definitely loves you)

Fear demons tend to either have flopped/lop ears or no ears at all! Their ears can still be perked to look for prey to pay extra attention to things if needed but are most comfortable flopping down and staying there. The chances of you touching a fear demons ears are slim to none since you will almost assuredly lose your hand afterward.

Empathy daemons very much got the best end of the deal as most of them are Chimeric in nature and therefore have a variety of mismatched animal traits! Where as other demons have traits that come directly from on family/class of animal, Empathy demons can and will have Any. (Though seeing mammalian traits is very common) This can go from mismatched fur and skin patterns to even each of their limbs. Being the most animalistic trait inheriting variety of demon, it’s incredibly helpful that Empathy demons aren’t able to be seen by their charges for a certain amount of time as this typically allows them time to be able to disguise their forms into something vaguely more human. Caelum is still struggling with this, thus his odd eyes and two sets of animal ears.

Though since that’s been repealed in canon (since it was causing empathy demons to have weird attachments to their charges due to being unseen) more people will probably be having what they assume to be visits from “angels” (more on that below)

Empathy demons are often mistaken for angels are where the idea of angels comes from somewhat! Truthfully the Sovereigns are what the concept of angels comes from but after their disappearance and the much more common appearance of Empathy demons to those in need, empathy demons became the standard as well as the saying “Do not be afraid” because seeing a creature that’s part every animal is Very Scary.

(The sovereigns look like biblically accurate angels)

Empathy demons are all born Incredibly short but grow to be one of the tallest kinds of demons! For example: Caelum was the shortest in his batch/litter of empathy demons but this means that he’ll grow to be the tallest and above average size for an Empathy demon! Which will be very inconvenient when he tries to visit freelancer and is now a good 8 feet tall (please be nice to him he hates being too tall to be held it makes him sad)(also Caelum is right handed by choice but all demons are ambidextrous…I couldn’t find anywhere else to fit this hc in so shush)

Empathy demons are born in litters/batches! Batches are used to refer to litters that have been born (typically 1 to 2 at a time otherwise the word litter will just be used interchangeably if it’s less than 2) while Litter is used by the demons in said batch to refer to themselves and their siblings that were born.

For example: “A couple new batches of empathy demons were born, they will NOT stop crying about someone taking their toys.”

“Oh me and my litter used to do that, have you tried just labelling the toys with their names?”

Empathy demons can be born with duplicate limbs! So there’s like a non-zero plausibility of there being an empathy demon named Tails who does In Fact have two fox tails. He would not find this funny. (But he would love tails and name himself Miles after him)

This can span from multiple arms on their torso to multiple tails, wings, ears, or even horns! Caelum has been known to have two tails on occasion but primarily is known for his two sets of ears! One resembling a bear or lion cub and the other resembling a lamb.

Concubi (incubi and succubi) have the Least animal traits as it would generally be hard for them to shift and disguise if they had the amount of traits other demons had. This leaves them feelings rather put-out by other demon groups and it’s very common for Concubi to be jealous or upset because of their lack of traits. Sure it’s great for catching food and all but it feels like a denial of their demonic attributes honestly. Being mistaken as human by other demons and humans themselves is a common and very down putting experience for concubi, while some embrace it and the ease it gives them to catch food, many reject this idea and will try and make their animal/demon traits more apparent.

It’s very common for concubi to have ur standard demon tail and a thing layer of fuzzy/fine fur as well as clawed hands and sometimes feet! It’s more uncommon to have cat eyes and slit pupils. Almost all concubi have long elf like ears and if they don’t then that’s very rare! The outcome of that is either having human ears (extremely rare) or some form of animal ears (even more rare) Obviously it’s much more favored by the general concubi population to have animal based ears and those that don’t have normal ears or animal ears will disguise their ears to be normal and elf like but demons can always tell when one another are using magic to hide themselves, so this trick only works on non-demons or humans

Gavin has a fair mix of uncommon and common traits for incubi! He has fairly long animal like ears (similar to a sheep/goat or rabbit), hooves, and claws! But for the most part it's not incredibly hard for him to shift and pass as human which is a mixed bag as far as he's concerned with how it makes him feel. He definitely has More traits than the average concubus but the ones he has are incredibly concubi specific, meaning they're as minor as genetically possible for him to pass as human when shifting. Think of it like being double jointed. Is it uncommon and kind of weird? yes. Is it something noticable that's going to come up every day unless you show it off? No. It's a minor oddball trait at best which sets him in this weird spot of either being idolized by some concubi for his traits, demonized by others for his lack of conformity with human standards, or being denied his demon-status due to the simplicity of his traits. It's a very hard topic for him.

At the least he's lucky that there are Very few sadism demons left out in the world, it would give him an even bigger complex of problems. (Sadism demons are basically what would happen if you took Concubi genes and pumped them with steroids. EVERYTHING about their genetics is more obvious. While Gavin has retractable claws, a sadism demon might have claws that never retract. Cats eyes that properly dilate in every light, more markings as well as markings that are more blantantly obvious. Fangs and tusks that protude from the mouth and glint in the light, whiskers and antennae that properly feel and catch every change in movement. Compared to a sadism demon, an incubus is just a chubby house cat playing an unconvincing game of pretend to a big cat. Really, if you asked Vega he would say their lives are spent playing a charade of pretend, a mockery of what a real demon is. they're practically human.)

(I have way more but this post was too long so lemme know if the tags if you want a part two on the other kinds of demons plus some more art :3 Also demon on demon discrimination because thats so fucking funny to me.)

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