Baby it's cold outside

Matteo Riddle x fem!reader (12 days of Christmas)

‘trust me the way i think of you, i wouldn’t say I think of you like a little sister’ he spits out darkly, trapping me.

TW: cnc, questionable, tense, angst, BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND, ‘trust me the way i think of you, i wouldn’t say I think of you like a little sister’ he spits out darkly

Break it down baby: You’re Draco’s little sister by one year. You’re not really allowed to be there at the party, but playing with Matteo is your favourite pass time. Tongues are loosened and secrets are spilled. It’s cold and it wouldn’t hurt anyone, in the dark it can all remain a secret.

*** 

Driving up the long wooded drive the massive stark manor that lay solemnly in the middle of a field. The dark windows glistened like onyx as the growing snow danced down. I run out heading straight for the house so that the boys don’t get any ideas about throwing snowballs at me. The house elves had unpacked everything so creeping down that large mahogany staircase on the way to steal some food you overheard the voices in the main room. 

“Hello Reginold,” I say, patting the face of the stag’s head hanging up in the hallway. Trying my best I quieted my footsteps on the checkered floor, walking on my tiptoes. “They won’t be here for two days, we can throw it away tomorrow and they'll clean it that night,” one deep voice murmurs. 

“Mmm yeah what about her?” 

“She’s my sister, I'll make her stay upstairs and get one of you to look out for her,” Draco says, sending a wave of irritation through my body. Insolent little rat, I think. I press my ear onto the door.

“No way Draco, why do we have to look after your little sister,” Tom says calmly, annoyed. 

“Yeah I’m not doing it, maybe Blaze?” Theo interjects. Arethey seriously discussing who’s going to be guard dogging me?!? 

“Yeah he’d love to, he’s had a small thing for her since beginning of term,” 

“Eww Riddle I don’t want to hear it!” Draco says dramatically. 

“I’ll do it. Blaze wouldn’t know how to control the half of her,” Matteo’s deep nonchalant voice rings in my ears. Heart racing. See now this doesn't sound so bad, I think realizing that I’d be able to spend time with him. 

“Great! Theo can you tell everyone it’ll be winter wonderland themed or something,” Draco claps. 

“We’ve finished the drinks, I’ll go get some,” I hear footsteps on the carpet, nearing the door. Oh Merlin. I step away hastily trying to find a hiding spot. I duck behind my great great great grandfather’s suit of armor, peeking out to see Matteo standing right in front of me smirking. “Hello princess, decided to wear a suit of armor instead of a gown? Very dashing,” his accent dripped in amusement, as I stepped out and averted my eyes. 

“Yes you look dashing too, with the-the..” I look down then back to him. “The gray sweatpants,” I blush and heat up as he steps closer. 

“Like what you see? Then I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind that you can’t go to the party,” he was a step in front of me. I glare up at him, pouting, and crossing my arms. “I don’t need to be babysitted like your little sister Riddle.” I bite out.

“Well call it something else, because I do not see you as my little sister,” the way he says the words with so much disgust, i feel taken aback. He’d always treated me like Draco’s little annoying sister and now he can’t bear to think of me like that? 

“Fine. You’re his little guard dog,” my level of anger simmering down as a different type of heat grows and heats my body. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, I’m your guard dog,” he locks me in. “And I won’t be taking my eyes off you, all night.” His breath washes over me, smelling of bourbon. They’ve definitely raided my father's bar. 

“I’m still going, you can’t stop me,” I tried one last time to one up him. I catch a glimmer in his eyes that passes away in a millisecond. He wanted to do something he shouldn’t.

“Okay I won’t stop you,” you smile happily until he finishes, “i can fight.” If I was insane I’d have walked away, but his proximity, how i can tell that he never lies, and I’ve seen how he finishes someone off my body physically can’t help the shivers that run through me. Washing every nerve in a molten emotion. His eyes dart from one to the other then without further talk walks away leaving me there, hot with a wetness between my thighs. 

***

Someone really needs to show the DJ what real music is. The house is full of pupils from Hogwarts crowd the stairway and the majority of the downstairs. I can feel him trailing me as I wind through people, saying hello and catching up with others. Having had enough I stop abruptly and confront him, “I was just joking about needing a babysitter, fuck off and find someone else Matteo,” without listening to me he takes my drink out of my hand and takes a sip, never letting a single emotion show. “Sure you don’t princess” is all he says before brushing past me.

I’ve managed to avoid the wrath of Draco so far, and no one’s minded that I take some drinks. Just as I start to feel my head swim. Talking to Pansy I see in the corner of my eye Matteo kissing a girl like there’s no tomorrow. It infuriates me, I know I have no right but. But as I watch his hands touch this girl up and down I wish it was me. 

I spot a boy from potions that I’d had a minor crush on. Stumbling, I approach him, “Jack oh my god,” I say flirtingly smiling at him. Let's put the so-called fighting to a test.  “Hey pretty how’s the drinks treating you,” he laughs to his friends, they all have their greedy eyes on me. I push back the barf. I loop a hand over his neck, pulling him close, “you know what’s hilarious?” 

“No, tell me, maybe somewhere more private?” He doesn't smell pretty like Matteo. God I need to get him out of my head. 

He’s like a snake just like his father. “Mmm, we should have a guard dog following me,” I pointed my thumbs over my shoulder to him. Then that’s when through my haze I feel disgusted at this boy, as his hand touches my ass. I try to push away from him but he doesn’t. 

Matteo’s shadow is behind me and the look of pure fear dawns on Jack’s face. He immediately lets go, backing away until he’s at a safe distance. 

“Really wanted to see if you could fight, why’d you scare them off?” I huff as he comes to the front of me. His eyes are hooded and lips slightly swollen. 

“I bet you did, better luck next time,” he takes the grip of my elbow and steers me away. I pick up a drink upon passing a tray and swing it back.

I’ve already dug six feet under might as well dig to hell. 

I try to pull back as we climb the stairs, but he’s insistent. Tripping over the carpeted step he catches me. His arms felt right, they felt perfect as they held me safely. His hair was ruffled and I wanted to run my fingers through it. “Careful,” he says, looking only at my lip glossed lip. I push him off and stumble ahead, laughing like a lunatic. “Why are you laughing, crazy?” He bounds up to meet me, stopping in front of me. “Because..” I trail off swinging on the stair’s post.

“Mmhm?” he smile flashes as he steps one stair up looking up at me so prettily. God! Why is he so fucking pretty it’s not fair?!

“You have to promise not to tell anyone okay? Not even Theo,” he looks at me confused then laughs. 

“Theo?” He confirms.

“Yes, okay Theo so shhhh!” I heavily lift my finger to push it up onto his lips. They’re soft, on the verge of chapped. “I secretly like him. Like like him. Like I just want him to…” I drift off almost falling backwards down the stairs. He’s quick and catches me before the tipping point. As he puts me up right. 

“Theo? You like Theo?” He sounds angry, jealous.

 “No silly, I like you but you- oop-” He looks so confused as I continue to giggle my hand over my mouth as I catch myself.. 

“Me- why would I tell Theo-”

“Cause you two are like peas in a pod. But god it’s you that I want Riddle, god how much i want you,” I roll my eyes as if it’s common sense. 

I blush at the thought of what I truly want him to do, what I want to do to him. 

I reach my bedroom door and he stops me from opening it, I turn around smiling, biting down on my lip. 

“What.” One step closer. “Do.” his hand lightly touches my waist. “You. want me to do?” it comes out grated with unspoken lust. 

“I need to go to bed,” I twist the door knob and let us both in. 

“Rather convenient for you,” he enters without a welcome. I get a sudden flash of heat and the sparkly dress is too itchy. I reach behind my back grasping at the zipper. 

“Help me.” I say whining at the irritation of feeling claustrophobic. His shadow is behind me once again slowly he pulls the zipper down. Cold fingers working their way down my bare back, I shiver at the sensation.

 The second it's off I sigh in complete relief, “hank merlin, you’re my savior,” I lift the sheets and scoot in. Closing my eyes I start to drift off until I hear him walking to the door, “Wait Riddle.” He pauses, “please it’s cold outside,”  I lift one side and wait for him to climb in. 

He does reluctantly. Tense as he comes close to me. His body heat radiates off of him in soothing waves. I curl closer to him, humming as I hold him. 

Too drunk to care, I sink into the spinning darkness. Leg swung over his waist. He took my leg with one hand, running it up and down lazily. 

I look up at him in the dark training my finger down his jaw. His hand comes to my ass, squeezing it testingly. I wiggle my ass, I can feel him under me, as he shifts me to the top. “I want you to do so many things,” I finally mumbled before falling asleep. 

***

Matteo’s POV:

Her weight is fully on me. Her last words ringing in my head, she truly knows how to drive me crazy. It’s too late to leave, and also I don’t want to leave. Her soft skin is warm as my hand wanders up and down. I shouldn’t, I think as my hand dips to feel her panties. It’s been a while since she's fallen asleep. She keeps letting out small whimpers, and grinding ever so slightly up and down my shaft. I can’t help the blood coursing to my cock. It’s painful how much I want to fuck her. 

How she had openly admitted to wanting me was tyranny. So close yet forbidden to touch, like a perfect marble statue in a locked museum. 

Slowly putting my hand in between her panties I bite down a groan as I feel her soft folds open for my fingers, coating them in her wetness. This little whore is dreaming about sex, I can feel it. I pause momentarily to hear if there’s any more shifting. Heart pounding in my ears, I continue going up and down every now and again circling her clit. I feel her as her body responds to me, throbbing and becoming wetter. My cock pushes up against her stomach, to relieve myself I push one finger into her cunt. It’s warm and instantly clenches around me, eating me up begging for more.

“How bad do you want me princess?” I whisper, kissing her neck and sucking it. You moan grinding into my fingers without even knowing it. I threw my head back into the pillow. The dizziness, the pounding of my head, my cock, the way you feel on fingers it’s too much. With my free hand, I unzip my pants, taking my cock out. It’s so cold in this room, that the house elves must’ve forgotten to turn the fire on. I position my cock at your entrance. Like a good princess, you open your legs allowing me to enter you better. 

You really were dreaming about him filling up, it felt so real.

I nearly came at the first feeling of your cunt wrapping around my cock and the small in and outs that your hips rolled. “Matteo do it,” you moan, gripping me closer to you. In the fog of tiredness, you squint open watching me, I spot you and capture your open lips in a kiss. My tongue opens your mouth and explores you.

I push myself all the way in, then draw out. I pause with every movement to make sure you're okay, you accept me so openly. Without hesitation.

 I moan quietly into the silent room. It’s euphoric finally being able to have you. All those years of having to use my hand or other girls to replace you, it was torture. I use your hips to roll and bounce on my dick, like a good doll that does what she’s meant to. 

“Fuck- that’s God- You feel so p-perfect- your going to make me come-” I whisper not able to contain my control. 

Your whimpers are music to my ears. Your body’s so responsive, already you're close to your climax, clenching and milking my cock, not a single thought in that pretty head of yours. I shiver ever so slightly. All you can hear is the wet sounds of me pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. You place small wet kisses on my hot neck. 

I move quicker my moans restrained as my hot sticky come spills out of me. Luckily I pulled out before. To avoid a greater mess I lift you to rest on the other side. I message you lightly drifting back to sleep as you act like a cockwarmer. Because baby it’s cold outside. And I don't care if they'll talk.

prompt 4 for trent 🫶

-> I left my shampoo in your shower, I left my smile inside your head.

break ups, makeups, nothing but wasted time. you were a sniffling mess as you grabbed each piece of clothing out of his closet and placed it into another overfilled box. trent was a gift giver - it was his love language - and now you wished he never gifted you anything. the reminders of him were non-stop. you had not left liverpool as quickly as you aimed to, but when you finally got the apartment you wanted, you took to quietly moving out while he was away.

his dog sat solemnly near the box of clothes with his head on his paws, eliciting whines of disapproval. he used to do the same thing when trent was leaving for a game or when you would go away for holidays and deep down, you felt the pup knew that you weren't coming back. although the tears burning your eyes refused to fall, you did nothing to stop the gut-wrenching sob that escaped your lips once your custom jersey, with polished white lettering with "MS TAA" across the shoulders that pulled into your hands. you stared at it with the pain of a thousand fires swirling in your chest angrily because your entire relationship was gone and taken away from you, like death by a thousand cuts. you called your best friend and within thirty minutes she had arrived and took over the rest of the packing. as you sat on the floor with the dog in your lap and your best friend captaining the slowly slinking ship of diginty and hope, with you merely muttering "keep" or "toss".

you left your key with his brother, who gave you solemn look and a tight hug that lasted longer than any hug you had with him before as he whispered, “i’m sorry he did this,” against your ear. you wiped your tears, shaking your head as you stared at him “it’s not your fault”. it was no one’s fault but trent’s - he made his bed, with her beside him, and now he had to lay in it.

irritated. trent had been irritated all day. if it wasn’t one thing it was another - training was a mess, he wasn’t going to be back playing as he had planned and he hadn’t heard from you in days. every text he sent immediately turned green - you blocked him. he knew it but it didn’t stop him from trying. the guilt was seeping out of his pores alongside the sweat of the day as he walked into his house. he muttered a hello to his brother who waved him off, not even taking his eyes off of the tv. trent forced himself to not pay any mind to his brother - he didn’t have time for lectures. it was what it was. the stomps of his dog walking behind him as he entered his room gave him some type of ease but as he sat on the bed and loosed a breath, he was met with two puppy eyes and whine.

“wha’s your problem?” he reached to touch the puppy who took two steps back. the puppy huffed and whined as he pawed the air. “she’s not coming back.” which deflated the dog’s spirit entirely and he curled inward on himself on what used to be your side of the bed and huffed once more - with a judgmental look from is round puppy eyes. trent grumbled to himself as he turned on the shower and waited for the steam to rise. a shower and a long nights sleeps would fix his sour mood. maybe seeing sarah would fix it too, and he contemplated inviting her over but decided against it. he couldn’t handle the tension between his brothers and he didn’t want to hear a goddamn thing come out their mouths, no matter how right they were. he kept himself occupied but the shower left nothing but memories rinsing over him alongside the water. he reached for his shampoo but it was empty and muttered “fuck.” before tossing it to the side. he reached for the next one and stopped - the pink bottle glaring at him, taunting him, reminding him of the memories he made.

how he rarely showered alone. the intimacy he shared with you as you teased him and washed his hair. you were always so gentle - your eyes were red from the hot water running down your face but you didn’t care - and far too concentrated on the task at hand. it was so simple but to trent, it was everything. you would talk about your day and take your time in unbraiding his hair and lathering the shampoo into his hair. or, you would place kisses on his back and your fingers trailed his wet skin, aiming to ease the tension he carried physically and emotionally. the showers started due to the insatiable habits of needing to be inside you and making love to you. then it turned to wanting to be near you, all the time, no matter the circumstances - even if that meant invading your showers and taking turns washing each others hair. trent was at ease under your touch and it was never lost on you the release of his tense shoulders and the sighs that loosened out of him when you touched him in any capacity. he loved knowing you were right there, easy to touch. easy to love. dependable. yet, he ruined it all, blinded by lust while lost in a chokehold of endless yes men and women who wanted to be affiliated with a premier league footballer.

he left the shampoo in the shower after sloppily washing his hair just to say he did so. he rummaged his cabinets to start his skin care routine only to realize it was your skin care routine that you applied for him. but your skin care products that were no longer there. his heart fell to his stomach and he felt sick with the memories running through his mind - suddenly blindsided with guilt instead of anger. your smile was all he could see as he rummaged to find any type of moisturizer to throw on and go to bed.

as he applied the product to his skin it felt all wrong. it should’ve been you, sitting on the sink, wrapped in your towel and scolding him playfully as you stuck eye patches on him before bed. it should have been your smile that he saw as he kissed your wrist as you smoothed out one of the many products that he had no idea clue what they did but obliged, because it made you happy. it should’ve been your smile that he as your brushed your teeth alongside him and complained about the early mornings or the latest work drama.

it should’ve been you smiling, there, alongside him and wrapped up in bed. instead you had left and all that was left was your smile inside his head.

Best Husband Ever.

pairing: loki x fem!reader

genre: fluff and smut

summary: you ask loki for something you’ve always wanted, but instead loki says no, but he does have something special planned

warnings: smut 18+!! (minors and pearl clutchers can leave!!!), oral sex (f!receiving), implied piv, established relationship, DOGGIES, really cute stuff tbh

word count: 2.6k

A/N: THIS GIF MAKES ME CACKLE SO HARD

“Oh, Lokiiiii,” You called out for your husband as you padded your feet down the hardwood floors of your shared home. You held your phone in your hand and what displayed on the screen was something that you knew would probably be an immediate no, but it doesn’t hurt to try, right?

“Yes, my life?” You heard Loki reply from your shared bedroom. You swiftly finished your walk down the hall and leaned into the doorframe entering the room and stared at Loki with a mischievous glint in your eyes that Loki did not miss, “Oh no, what do you want?” Loki added on, placing the book he was reading on the bedside table beside him.

“Pfft— Whattt… I don’t want anything,” You lied with a big smile on your face, as you approached your husband who sat gracefully on the bed. Loki obviously did not believe that statement for one second, but still opened his arms, signaling you to crawl on top of him.

You obliged, crawling up the bed and straddling his hips and wrapping your arms around his neck, your phone now pressing into his scapula. You placed a kiss on his nose and smiled once again.

“If you wanna ask me for something, you should probably start giving me a real kiss, not a mere peck on my nose, my little dove,” Loki smiled, his hands finding their way to your hips and just resting there. You giggled and pulled him into a kiss on the lips.

As you tried to pull away, Loki’s hand moved from your hip to the back of your neck, keeping you against him. You smiled into the kiss as he did this, obviously showing off his neediness. Loki took this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you more fiercely.

The hand that still remained on your hip slipped up underneath the shirt you were wearing, gliding his fingertips across the cool skin that lay beneath the shirt.

The kiss continued along for a little longer until Loki felt a short buzz against the back of his shoulder. Loki pulled away panting, before he remembered that you came in here for something and that something was probably on your phone that laid on his scapula right now.

“Now tell me what it is that you want,” Loki smiled, kissing your cheek as your little smirk reappeared on your face.

“Soooo… I was on TikTok today, right? Well, I came across this video with a bunch of cute and funny videos of different dogs and I just looked up different rescue shelters near by, just for fun, of course, and I found this realllyyyy cute Golden Retriever named Sadie,” You explained quickly, finally showing your husband what is up on the screen of your phone right now.

The picture was of a Golden Retriever laying in a sunflower field that was taken by the shelter. Sadie has a dopey yet happy look on her face, but she still looked really thin, you could see her rib cage.

“Darling, I know not if we will even have time to watch over her. I’m sorry, my love, but it’s a no for now,” Loki said solemnly, kissing your nose. He couldn’t help but feel his heart hurt when he saw a look of sadness across your face.

“It’s okay, Lo… I figured I would ask. I just hope Sadie finds a good home that’ll treat her well,” You said with a sad tone in your voice.

**

Around 2 weeks later, it was your birthday. You didn’t really want to do anything for your birthday besides relax with your husband in bed all day. Tony gave you permission to take off of work for today, since today was a ‘special day’ according to Pepper.

With that said, you decided to sleep in as much as possible, at least, until you woke up with the feeling of intrusion just beneath the blankets that hung low on your hips. You let out a moan of pleasure as the intrusion was, in reality, Loki’s fingers pumping in and out of you rapidly.

“Fuck… Loki…” You moaned out in a raspy morning voice, bucking your hips against his fingers and his face. He swirled his tongue around your clit before coming up from beneath the sheets, stilling his fingers inside of you.

“Good morning, birthday girl,” Loki smirked, kissing just below your navel, continuing the movements of his fingers, causing you to moan out and arch your back, “let me give you my gifts for today,” Loki whispered once more before diving beneath the sheets once more, licking and slurping at your dripping core. The sounds he made were lewd, which only turned you on so much more.

His fingers prodded that one spot deep inside you that caused you to let out a guttural moan. Your hand dove beneath the sheets and gripped onto his inky black hair, causing him to groan into your soaked cunt which sent vibrations throughout your body, bringing you closer to the edge.

“Loki! Fuck! M’close! Please!” You screamed out towards the plastered ceilings of your shared bedroom. Loki pounded his fingers into you, humming and sucking against your clit, which caused you to gush all over him.

Your orgasm hit you in waves as chills went up your spine in the most euphoric way possible. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you pulled on Loki’s hair, holding on for dear life, all while Loki worked you through your high.

Once you came down from it, you flipped up the covers, revealing your husband looking up at you with his emerald green eyes, still seated between your thighs. You gave him a crooked smile as he crawled up your bare body.

“Happy Birthday, my sweet,” Loki cooed, giving you a passionate kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as you felt his cock harden and press against you, “Meet me downstairs when you’re ready, I have more for you,” Loki smiled, shimmying toward the edge of the bed, but you grabbed him just before he could leave you.

“My love, stay… you’re hard,” you pleaded, intertwining your hand with his.

“I know I am, but today is about you, not me,” Loki replied, kissing your knuckles.

“Well… I want you to stay and fuck me. I want to cum with you. If today is about me, then you’ll do anything I want, and this is what I want,” you smirked, pulling him towards you.

“I won’t deny such a request from my beautiful birthday girl,” Loki replied, smirking wickedly before he pounced.

**

You sauntered down the hall and down the stairs, wearing a pair of lace panties and one of Loki’s dress shirts.

You entered the kitchen, observing your husband, who was currently making breakfast. Your favorite breakfast. He was making waffles with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and strawberries.

Your eyes moved from the plates he was setting the food up on towards his bare back. The muscles flexed and moved around as he moved the freshly made waffle from the waffle maker to the glass plate.

Your eyes wandered lower as you looked at the black sweatpants he wore that hung low on his hips. You couldn’t deny how fine his ass looked in them.

You sauntered over to him and gave him a slap on the ass, causing him to jump at the sudden action, but quickly relaxed when he felt your arms around his waist as you laid your head on his back.

“I made your favorite breakfast, sit down, my love, I’ll bring it to you,” Loki sighed dreamily, you nodded against his back and walked to the kitchen island, which had bar stools placed right beside it.

Loki brought both of your plates over and you guys ate together. He finished before you, taking his dishes to the sink and leaned against the counter across from the island and just stared at you.

“May I help you, Mr. Laufeyson?” You asked after swallowing the food in your mouth.

“Just admiring my beautiful wife, Mrs. Laufeyson,” Loki replied with a smile, causing you to smile as well.

You continued to eat until your plate was empty, but before you could get up to add your dishes to the sink, Loki took them from your reach and placed them in the sink as well.

“I know you said you didn’t want me to get you anything for your birthday, but…” Loki started.

“Loki, are you kidding me?” You asked, crossing your arms, raising an eyebrow.

“But, darling, I think you’ll really enjoy what I got you for your birthday. I promise it’s only one thing,” Loki smiled. You scoffed, as he left to retrieve his gift.

He came back down the stairs, holding a medium sized box that was wrapped in dark green wrapping paper and a gold bow to top it off.

“Open it,” he smiled, almost bouncing up and down in excitement. You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes before ripping open the wrapping paper and opening the box to reveal what was inside.

It was a collar.

Not just any collar though.

The collar was dark green with golden emblems sewed delicately into the fabric of the collar. There was a simple black clip in the back, and a paw-shaped tag on the front that read the word ‘Sadie’ on it.

Your mouth dropped to the ground as your eyes began to fill up with tears. You looked to your husband who was giving you a beaming smile as he watched your reaction.

“Where is she?” You asked, standing up from the bar stool. Loki excused himself once more before coming back from the back door with Sadie.

She was the most beautiful Golden Retriever you have ever seen. Sure, she was skinny, but you would certainly fatten her up real easy. Her golden brown eyes shone in the natural light in the room as she panted with her tongue hanging out lazily.

“Loki! I love you so much!” You squealed, running up to your husband, kissing him affectionately. He easily returned the kiss, placing his hands on your hips. You pulled away from him, “how did you even get her? She was listed 2 weeks ago, and people normally snatch purebred goldies real quick,” You asked, looking up at those green eyes you fell in love with.

“Well…”

~ Loki’s POV: 2 weeks prior ~

“Oh, Lokiiiii,” I heard my wife call from the end of the hallway that leads to our room. I looked up from the book I was reading and replied.

“Yes, my life?” I replied, looking at the doorway with the door that hung open, as I felt I didn’t need to close doors anymore.

A few seconds later, my beautiful wife appeared at the door frame, gazing at me with love, and… was that mischief? What is she up to?

“Oh no, what do you want?” I asked partially jokingly, placing the book on my lap on the bedside table next to our bed.

“Pfft— Whattt… I don’t want anything,” She replied, obviously lying, as she approached me. I opened my arms, allowing her to come to me. She got the message and straddled my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my nose.

“If you wanna ask me for something, you should probably start giving me a real kiss, not a mere peck on my nose, my little dove,” I laughed. Seeing my little dove smile back at me made my heart flutter, she was truly the most amazing woman ever.

She easily listened and kissed me passionately. I furthered the kiss when she smiled into the kiss by slipping my tongue in. Without thought, my hands started wandering her body, my temple, as I like to call her.

Our kiss was soon disrupted by a buzz against the back of my shoulder. I frowned and pulled away, now remembering that she wanted something.

“Now tell me what it is that you want,” I smiled, kissing her cheek as her smirk reappeared on her flawless face.

She rambled on and on about how she was on TikTok and now she found herself on a website with dogs and how she wants to adopt one. I feigned a frown and denied her request for a dog, but only after I read the website name and mentally took note of it.

Later that night, after I fucked put my darling girl to sleep, I grabbed my phone and looked up the website, pulling up the profile Sadie had and called the number linked to it.

“Hello! Thank you for calling, may I help you?” The woman said on the other side of the phone.

“Hi, yes, I would like to adopt Sadie,” I almost whispered as I entered the en-suite bathroom.

“Okay, sir. But there is a list of people that also want Sadie, so if they all don’t answer then you’ll get her, obviously you’ll still have to pay and what not but y’know,” The lady chirped as I heard her typing into a keyboard.

“Look, I will pay you an extra $1000 if you skip the list and just give her straight to me. This is for my darling wife. She uhm…” I stopped, thinking up a quick lie, “we just recently put down our last dog, and my darling has been in bed for weeks because of it. I really need Sadie and so does she,” I lied, trying to sound like I was on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry, sir. However, there is a protocol that we follow, so it’s fair for everyone,” the lady replied.

After a little more convincing and bribing, the lady agreed and gave me an appointment to visit Sadie to see if she’s the one I want.

**

“My darling love, I am going to the store, is there anything I can get you?” I asked, putting my loafers on as my wife sat behind me in bed.

“Could you get ice cream? I wanna eat ice cream and have a movie marathon with you tonight,” She mumbled sleepily. I smiled at her request and nodded.

I left and headed to the appointment to get Sadie.

~ Your POV: present day ~

“Oh Loki, you’re so sweet,” You smiled, kissing him once more before kneeling down and meeting the Golden Retriever that was now your best girl.

“Oh and one more thing,” Loki said, looking down at you as you played with Sadie’s floppy ears, “I gave her an enchantment that expands her lifetime so that they match up to ours,” Loki explained. You stopped and looked up at him.

“I’m so giving you a blowjob later,”

**

the way my tiktok fyp is literally all dogs rn and i’m not complaining

Jasonette July Day 19: Mistakes

Written by: The Maribat Pit  Prompt: Mistakes Rating: T 

Soulmate AU - red string of fate around the ankles, references to other versions of the myth

A/N: This might become a mult-chap, we’re not entirely sure.  Comment on this post if you want to see this story continue.  There will be some Adrien/Chat Noir salt.

Marinette often heard stories about the ‘red string of fate’, the idea that there was a soulmate out there who was chosen just for her.  No one believed her when she told them she could see a red thread looped around her ankle. No one really explained what it meant, they would just tell her that she would grow out of that silly superstition.  She would look down at the floor, towards her ankle, where she could clearly see the red string tied around it.  Maybe they couldn’t see it, but she could, clear as day. When she became Ladybug and fought alongside Chat Noir, he would go on and on about how they were soulmates and destined for each other.  When she became Master Fu’s pupil, she asked him if he knew anything about it. “What brought this on?” he asked curiously. “I see this red string around my ankle, I’ve known about it ever since I was little. Everyone says it’s just a legend or a silly superstition.” she explained. “Around the ankle is a new one, but it’s also the oldest version of the legend,” Master Fu explained, “most prefer the version where it’s around the little finger, or a woman’s little finger and a man’s thumb.” “What does it mean?” she asked, “no one will tell me.” “It means the string will lead you to the person you are destined to be with,” he explained, “it may stretch and tangle, but it will never break.” For many years, she brushed aside other boys and their advances, much to the chagrin of anyone who knew the real reason why.    Whenever Chat Noir rambled on about them being soulmates, she knew it wasn’t true. It was infuriating, really, as she would look down at the red string leading away from him.  She would tell him that she was in love with someone else, because someone else was out there waiting for her.   Not that he would listen to her, but still she always kept him at arm’s length.  Some might say that her standards were too high, never mind that some boys just could not take “no” for an answer.   She thought about using Kaalki to find her soulmate, opening a portal directly to them.  The only problem was she only knew which direction the string was pointing, and not having a clear idea of where she was going could lead to complications. Marinette kept her head held high through Lila and Chloe bullying her, and the teachers doing very little to stop them.  She didn’t hate Adrien as much as she did on that first day of school, but he had done very little to stop his childhood friend from bullying people.  Marinette had been humiliated, insulted, and almost kicked out of school on multiple occasions.   Chat Noir, on the other hand, was only in love with the idea of her.   He had absolutely no clue who she was under the mask, and vice versa.  There were times when Marinette felt like she couldn’t step one toe out of line without someone breathing down her neck about being the bigger person.  She felt like she was the only one bearing the heavy burden of carrying the Ladybug mantle.  She took being a heroine seriously, but she knew that she couldn’t do everything perfectly.  Sometimes Chat Noir was more of a hindrance than a help, and this continued for many years. When days felt tough for Marinette, she only needed to look down at the string around her ankle and remind herself of what it meant.  It meant that someone out there was waiting for her, destined to love her with all their heart and she would love them in turn.  So Marinette kept her head down by day, and as Ladybug she would fight to bring an end to Hawk Moth’s reign of terror. Whoever her soulmate was, they would know the truth about her, they would love and accept her.  Sometimes she would wonder if Master Fu had chosen wrong when he decided that she should be the next Guardian of the Miraculous.  The red string on the other hand would stretch or tangle, but never break.  She could be certain that her soulmate was one choice that couldn’t be a mistake. Most of Jason’s earliest living memories were spent in hiding.  He would hide under the table with the family dog in his arms, while the adults around him argued.  When he got older, he would scurry back to the crevices in Gotham’s streets, hiding from whoever he just stole from.   All the time he’d worry they could see the glowing red thread wrapped around his ankle.  He could never understand what it meant, he assumed everyone had one at the time.   When his questions were met with mockery or indifference, he stopped sharing his curiosity about it.  It would always be glowing in the corner of his eye, like a bright light on a summer’s day.   One day he wandered into a bakery inside Gotham’s Chinatown.  He was waiting for the shopkeeper to look away so that he could grab a pastry without them noticing.  Their topic of conversation turned to a ‘red string of fate’ and Jason was intrigued.  Supposedly, the thread around his ankle bound him to someone. That someone was the person he was destined to be with forever, his soulmate.  He left the shop empty handed, hoping to try his luck finding food elsewhere.  If his soulmate was out there, whoever they were, they were going to be sorely disappointed.  He remembered thinking, whoever decided to pair him up with someone had made a terrible mistake.   If his soulmate could see him now, they would probably think so too. When he encountered Batman that fateful night in Crime Alley, his whole world had drastically changed from that night forth.  As Bruce Wayne took him under his wing and as he took on the Robin mantle, a secret part of him had hoped that he was becoming someone his soulmate could be proud of.  Still he kept it to himself, Alfred would occasionally find him staring off into space whenever he was alone.  If Jason asked Bruce about it, he would probably tell him that he needed to focus on other things. The glowing red string was the last thing he would see at night before letting sleep take him, this time, he wasn’t afraid. When she was 15, Marinette woke up one morning to find the string no longer glowed bright red.  Instead it was grey and limp, and she was desperate to know what this meant.  At the first opportunity, she ran to Master Fu, he was the only one she could confide in about this.  He lowered his head, almost unwilling to tell Marinette what it meant for fear of how she would react.  He told her solemnly, it meant that her soulmate had died… Elsewhere, a bomb was counting down the seconds until it could go off.  Jason had been battered, bruised and broken, but as long as his heart was still beating he still had a chance. Ten… He pushed against the locked door.  That damned clown had locked him in, probably for the sheer delight of it. Nine… He had only just noticed the bomb, he had to find a way out of the building and fast.  Bruce, Alfred, Barbara, Dick and...he looked down at his ankle, his soulmate...they were all waiting for him.  Eight… This was all a mistake, he had been led into a trap.  He hoped that Batman would arrive just in time to save him.  He would probably slap him upside the head after he had recovered, and lecture him about being far too reckless, but at least he’d be alive. Seven… Strength was leaving his body, most of which was probably beaten out of him moments earlier.  The fighting spirit that always burned like a raging inferno inside of him was dimming.   Six… In those last few seconds, all he had left in him was a silent apology.   Wherever his soulmate was, he wished them nothing but happiness.  He was sorry that he couldn’t meet them for the first time.  He wanted to tell them that the mere idea of them gave him hope.  Hope that quite literally hung by a very thin thread, but it was what kept him going all these years.  It kept him going through living on the street, through pushing himself to meet Bruce’s expectations, even through the ordeal he had just endured.  All he needed to do was look down and remind himself that whoever chose him to be someone’s soulmate hadn’t made a mistake.  The reason he wouldn’t get to meet them was because of his mistake. Five...four...three..two...one. Marinette didn’t know how to mourn someone she had never seen, met, or even spoken to.  All she knew was that for the next three years, the string around her ankle was limp and grey.  The legend said that it would tangle, it would stretch, but it would never break.  Sometimes she would lay awake at night and wonder what could have possibly happened to her soulmate.  Had they even noticed the red string around their ankle? Did they even care about what it meant?  How did they die? Was it an accident or did someone kill them? These were questions that kept Marinette up at night as she gazed up at her bedroom ceiling.  She didn’t notice that the string was slowly starting to regain it’s glow, though it remained very dim.  She barely paid any attention to it anymore, and thought the faint red glow was just a trick of the eye.  It was a cruel reminder of what that thread meant and what she looked forward to. By the time she was 18, Marinette decided she needed to get out of Paris.  She wanted to be a designer, but she also thought a change of scenery would be good for her.  She kept the Miracle Box with her when she moved to Gotham City,  to keep the rest of the Miraculous from falling into the wrong hands.  Around this time, the thread around her ankle began to glow bright red, just as it had done a few years ago.  She was honestly curious to follow the thread and see where it led, but Plagg and Tikki were unsure about it.  They could sense that something was amiss with the thread reignighting, and they had a bad feeling that the forces of creation and destruction were involved. That’s how Marinette found herself pacing around her dorm room, trying to think of an explanation.  “How can you tell?” she asked them, “Maybe whoever did this chose someone else to be my soulmate? Someone who wasn’t dead.” “That’s not really how this works, Marinette.” Tikki told her. “Well, not according to Master Fu anyway,” said Plagg, “if the string is turning red again, that means whoever it is was brought back to life.” “But that’s impossible...is it?” Marinette looked at them,  not that long ago she had fought a man who wanted to use them to bring his comatose wife back.  Was it really so impossible? “Long ago, we were forced to grant such a wish.” Plagg confessed. “Plagg!” Tikki hissed, “you’re not suggesting that maybe…” “I am,” Plagg told her, “and she needs to know if she’s going to go herring off looking for someone who might be dead.”  Plagg turned his attention back to Marinette, “long ago, someone did acquire the Miraculous and they did use it to grant one wish…to make them young and strong forever.” “How did they do it?” Marinette asked, a little afraid of their answer. “We created what humans call ‘The Lazarus Pits’.  Anyone who bathed in its waters would be healed, rejuvenated, even snatched from the jaws of death.” he explained “Tikki’s healing magic is infused in the waters, that’s the healing part.” Marinette looked over at Tikki, “So what’s the catch? It can’t be that easy, can it?” “Well, the more they bathe in them, the more it destroys their mind,” she explains before giving Plagg a pointed look.  “It heals them on the outside, while their mind is slowly destroyed.” Marinette is slightly horrified by the thought.   “Can it bring someone back to life?” She asked, they exchanged worried glances. “Yes, but...Marinette, the person they were could have easily eroded away.” Tikki explained, but Marinette was growing tired of imagining and daydreaming.  She had to see for herself the person that her soulmate had become, so that’s how Ladybug set off to see where the red string led.

For your bday prompt thing: stuckony, Tony has to take care of his partners after they get drunk for the first time in 70+ years.

Also, happy belated bday!!!

Thank you, nonnie! I hope you like this story! It was my first time writing something like this and I had a lot of fun working on it!

As always, everything that I write is on ao3 but I’m not providing the link because tumblr hates links

~

Tony would just like everyone to know that he said the Asgardian mead was a bad idea.

He said it, he did, and tomorrow morning, he’ll get to say I told you so.

Today, however, he has a very handsy Bucky and a very affectionate Steve to deal with, and he’s not sure which one is worse.

Bucky’s hand creeps towards his inner thigh for the fifth time in ten minutes and for the fifth time in ten minutes, Tony firmly removes it, placing it back in Bucky’s lap. “Nope,” he says, ignoring the laughter in Natasha’s eyes as she watches the three of them. “No, we’re not doing that.”

Bucky gives him a very pathetic pout that absolutely does not make Tony melt. “I just wanna touch it a little.”

“And I would like to not wake up with regrets tomorrow morning so hands to yourself.”

“I wouldn’t regret it,” Bucky grumbles, hands starting to wander again.

Tony sighs and firmly holds both of Bucky’s in his, keeping them right where he can see them. “I know you wouldn’t,” he says tiredly. How much mead had Thor given them? It’s been three hours, shouldn’t they be at least starting to sober up? “But I would.”

There’s a low whining sound from his left side. Tony groans and turns to Steve, who lays his head on his shoulder and blinks up at him with those big blue eyes. “You would regret us?” Steve asks sadly, mouth turned down at the corners.

Tony leans forward and drops a quick kiss on Steve’s forehead. “Yep. Drunken consent still isn’t consent even when we’re dating, and even if you both really, really want it, I like my partners to at least remember what we did.”

“I wouldn’t forget you,” Steve murmurs. “I love you.”

The words have been said before but not nearly frequently enough for Tony’s breath to keep from hitching. It still sends a thrill through his body every time he hears it. How could it not? There’d been a long time there when he’d thought he would never have anyone who would love him, and now he has two people.

“I—” he starts to say, but Steve puts a finger on his lips, shushing him.

“I especially love your eyes,” he says dreamily and reaches up to pet them, closing Tony’s eyes as he does.

“I know, babe.” And he does. Steve compliments him on his eyes all the time.

“They’re like dirt.”

Well, that’s a new one. Usually, Tony gets that they’re like whiskey, or when Steve’s in a particularly happy mood, like Bambi. Natasha nearly chokes on her laughter as Tony’s mouth twists.

“Great,” he says dryly. Bucky tugs his hands from Tony’s, who only barely notices. “Thanks, babe. A+ compliment there.”

“Dirt makes things grow,” Steve informs him solemnly.

“That they do,” he agrees, throwing Natasha a dirty look as she continues to snicker. Fuck, where’s the rest of the team when he needs them? How did he miss them all heading off to bed while he was trying to wrangle Steve and Bucky and stop them from drinking the entire contents of the barrel Thor brought back from Asgard?

“So it’s good that your eyes are like dirt.”

“Could be worse,” Natasha says. “He could have said your eyes are like manure.”

Steve’s eyes light up and Tony claps a hand over his mouth to keep him from saying that. He doesn’t think he could stand it. There are a lot of things he’s been compared to in his life, and many of them have been bad, but that would definitely be one of the worst.

“Don’t give him any ideas,” he grumbles and then yelps when Bucky’s hand lands squarely on his dick.

“James!” he hisses, scandalized. He twists in his seat, away from Bucky’s wandering hands, even if that means moving closer to Steve, who promptly latches onto him like a limpet. What is this world coming to that Tony, of all people, is horrified by some light exhibitionism? He thinks about burying his head in his hands and groaning but decides against it. There’s no telling what Bucky would do if Tony took his eyes off of him.

“Okay,” he says abruptly and stands up, dislodging Steve. “You know what? I had high hopes that we’d be able to sober up down here but that’s definitely not going to happen so we’re going to bed.”

“Together?” Bucky asks, waggling his eyebrows. It’s normally a very effective strategy, but tonight he’s too loose to look anything other than ridiculous. Tony bites back a laugh.

No encouragement.

Stand your ground, Stark.

…Even if it’s really tempting.

“Nope,” he says, popping the p. He rocks back on his heels. “You two are going to go to bed and I am going to sleep with Natasha.”

It’s the least she can do for laughing at his misfortune all evening. And besides, it’s not like they haven’t shared a bed before. Most of the team have shared a bed at one point or another. It’s a great way to deal with the nightmares they all have. And Nat’s scary enough that even Bucky won’t dare argue with her, especially once she nods and slides her hand through the crook of his elbow.

“I’d love to have you over tonight,” she says in that sly tone that means she’s rubbing this in Bucky’s face. He sighs. When did his life get so complicated? What did he do in a past life that was so bad he now has to deal with petty spies and assassins with roaming hands?

“Nat, stop teasing Bucky,” he orders. “Bucky, keep your hands to yourself. And Steve, just—” Steve gives him the biggest puppy dog eyes. Tony regrets every single time he’s ever told Steve how effective those are. “Never mind. Bed. You two are going and what you get up to once you’re there is none of my concern.”

“It could be,” Bucky says with another one of those eyebrow wiggles.

“Uh-huh,” Tony says, not impressed. “Darling, you’re so drunk you’re nearly falling over. I’d be surprised if you can even get it up.”

“Oh doll, I can always get it up for you.”

“Charming,” he says flatly.

Steve slides his hand into Tony’s free one, interlacing their fingers and swinging them, happy as a clam. Tony glances over at him and opens his mouth to say something, what he’s not sure. It’s not like this is nearly as much of a problem as Bucky’s leering is; it’s just a little awkward. Before he can say anything, Steve beams at him and lifts their joined hands up so he can press a soft kiss to the back of Tony’s. Tony shuts his mouth again and tries not to blush.

After a moment, he says, “Nat, can you take Bucky upstairs if I’ve got Steve?”

She nods. “Let’s go,  Джеймс.”

Bucky pouts but obediently follows her to the elevator. Once they’re gone, Tony turns to Steve, who promptly wraps him up in a hug. “Were we really that bad tonight?” Steve mumbles, voice muffled by Tony’s hair.

He wants to say yes, wants it to never happen again because tonight was awkward-with-a-capital-A, but he thinks of all the times Rhodey and Pepper have had to wrangle him when he had too much to drink. “Worse things have happened,” he tells him instead and nudges Steve’s jaw up so he can kiss him in that sensitive spot right under his chin.

“Good,” Steve says and finally—finally—he sounds sleepy. “I never want to cause you problems.”

Tony smiles fondly. He knows they don’t. That’s why he finds it impossible to stay mad at them when they do things like this. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you upstairs before you become deadweight.”

“You’d have to get the suit to move me,” Steve says drowsily, stumbling along with Tony as they head for the elevators.

“That’s very true.”

Natasha is already gone by the time he gets Steve into their bedroom, and fortunately, Bucky is already asleep, snoring softly as he lies facedown on the bed. “Small miracles,” Tony mutters, shoving Steve in the direction of the bathroom.

He helps Steve out of his clothes, decides against a shower—they’ve tried sleepy Steve in the shower before and it never turns out well—and eventually gets his teeth brushed. By that point, Steve is all but swaying on his feet so it’s no effort at all to get him tucked into bed beside Bucky, who must know on some subconscious level that it’s Steve next to him because he rolls over and wraps himself around Steve like he’s part octopus.

Tony smiles at the sight of them and pulls his phone out to take a quick picture before he grabs a couple things and then heads down to Nat’s floor. She’s also already in bed by the time he gets there, but she’s leaning up against the headboard, reading a book.

“Thanks,” he says wearily as he drags himself into her bathroom.

“You owe me,” she says simply. “Besides, it was easy once he realized you weren’t there. Just had to promise him you’d be coming up soon.”

“You’re a genius.” He stumbles back out of the bathroom and faceplants on the bed, burying his face into her hip. “Fuck, that was exhausting. Was I ever that bad when you were working for me? No, don’t answer that. I think we all remember that party.”

She laughs and cards her fingers through his hair. “You did well, котенок.” She pauses. “But I still took pictures.”

“…I hate you.”

i wish you'd write a fic where mickey reluctantly goes on a picnic with ian (maybe with their baby girl and dog?)

This is a great excuse for a little more of my new headcanon where they pick up a couple strays. I have to apologize, though, because this is probably not as fluffy as you imagined—there’s a pretty heavy backstory that’s hinted at. I tried to add some cute things too, though!

For the curious, first mention of their oldest daughter Brit (Mickey calls her Brat) here and of the dog, Basil, here.

---

“You want to go on a what?” Mickey asks incredulously as his husband putters around their small kitchen, putting together sandwiches.

“A picnic, Mick,” Ian replies, his head currently stuck inside the open fridge. He pops out long enough to give Mickey a look. “And don’t act surprised, I told you yesterday.”

Mickey holds out his arms, palms up. “Do I look like I knew this was comin’?” He moves out of the way as Ian closes the fridge and rounds the counter, lunchmeat in hand. “I didn’t know you were serious, man!”

Ian sighs, laying ham on bread and reaching for a knife to spread the mustard. “What’s the problem, huh?” he asks. “You don’t want to have a nice day with us?”

“Hey, don’t you do that,” Mickey commanded, pointing a finger at him. “Excuse me if I don’t want to take a toddler and fucking dog to a damn tourist trap.”

Ian rolls his eyes as he finishes the sandwiches, setting them neatly in a piece of tupperware that Mickey doesn’t remember owning. “It’s not a tourist trap, Mick,” he says patiently, “it’s a park. And your daughter wants to go.”

Mickey scoffs, trying not to soften too noticeably. Ian knew he always gave in when he used the d word. “Yeah, she wants to go cause someone showed her a bunch of pictures yesterday.”

“I was trying to keep her occupied, Mick,” Ian says for what feels like the millionth time. “She just saw her mom in the hospital, she needed a distraction.”

“That bitch has never been her mom,” Mickey starts to respond, and Ian glares at him.

“Told you not to say that shit,” he says lowly, casting his eyes around for their daughter. “She doesn’t need to hear it.���

“Relax, she’s in her room,” Mickey tells him, but he stops anyway. Well, stops the name-calling, at least. “But you know I didn’t agree to lie to her, Ian, that’s all your brilliant idea.”

Returning to the fridge to grab a few cold pops, Ian blows out a breath. “And I told you, we’re not lying. We’re just…,” he stands there for a second with the door open, considering, before finishing with, “we’re just holding back a bit until she’s older.”

Mickey’s mouth is twisted, but when Ian comes closer to put a hand against his face, it relaxes. “Just for a little bit, Mickey, ok?” Ian asks softly. “Just let her think she’s a normal kid for a little longer. Longer than we got to.”

And fine, Mickey could do that. He nods.

Ian smiles, pecks him on the lips and pulls away. “Good,” he says. “I’ll go get Brit, you get Basil, and we’ll get on our way in a few minutes.”

Mickey stands still in the corner of the kitchen for a long moment, listening to his husband call out for their kid. “We’re goin’ on a picnic,” he mutters to himself. “With a kid and fucking dog. How the hell did I end up here?”

He whistles, hears the patter of small paws against tile as said dog comes careening around the corner from the living room. Basil comes to a sudden stop against Mickey’s legs and drops his rear to the floor with a thump, tail whipping rhythmically against the wooden counter. Mickey sighs as he grabs the leash off the hook on the wall behind him and bends down to attach it to the dog’s bright red collar.

“At least you’re not wearing a fucking sweater,” he tells Basil solemnly, and sputters when Basil rewards him with a lick across the face.

—

They’re almost there on the L, Brit clinging to Ian’s leg on the crowded train and Mickey trying not to let on that he has a 40 lb dog hidden in giant fucking tote bag between his feet. Thankfully, Basil is great at playing dead—Mickey taught him that one himself—so the biggest difficulty will be carrying him out without getting a hernia.

The kid tugs at Mickey’s pant leg as the train rounds a corner, and he looks down to see her grinning up at him through wisps of dark hair that escaped her messy pigtails.

“Are we goin’ to see the baby?” she asks excitedly, lisping a bit as her tongue hits the space where her front teeth used to be.

“Uh,” he says, looking to Ian for guidance. Ian is pretending not to listen, though, the bastard. He looks back down into his daughter’s dark eyes.

“Not today, Brat,” he tells her, and keeps going before she can pout. “We told you it’s gonna be a while, yeah? Your sister’s not done bakin’ yet.”

“Like a cake!” she exclaims. Mickey sees a little old woman smiling at them, and wonders if she’d think it was so cute if she knew half the story.

“Yeah, like a cake, kid,” he agrees.

“But where are we goin’?” she asks next.

Mickey absently tucks a longer strand of loose hair behind her ear, and answers, “Remember that place your dad was showin’ ya the other day?”

She gives a delighted gasp just as the announcement is made for Lake Station, and when she sees him bend to hoist up the bag they’ve hidden Basil in, she dashes for the now-open doors.

“Hey, wait!” he calls after her, but Ian beats him to the door with his long, unburdened stride, catching up to her quickly and leaving Mickey to deal with everything else.

Mickey looks down into the open tote, and Basil blinks an eye open to look back from where he’s curled around the container holding their lunch.

“Typical,” Mickey mutters, and hobbles off the train in pursuit.

—

Thankfully, the kid was more interested in seeing the gardens and the lakefront than any of the crowded, no-dogs-allowed areas, so after a few quick pics of her fooling around in front of the Bean, they get settled in with minimal fanfare toward the center of the park.

Mickey is leaning back on his elbows on the ratty blanket they brought, picking at his sandwich and watching his little girl run wild over the grass as Ian and Basil chase her, their own meals half-eaten and forgotten beside him. He watches as Ian catches her, the two of them falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs as Basil’s leash wraps around them, the dog running circles around his humans. Mickey laughs when Ian tries to stand and promptly falls back over, having to stop and free his damn giraffe legs from the leash before he tries again.

Ian kisses their daughter on the head and hands the dog off to her as he gets up, heading back toward Mickey. There’s no need to worry about whether she can handle it—Basil may weigh almost the same as her, but the dog had always been careful with her since she came to stay with them more than a year ago.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Ian asks softly as he approaches. He collapses onto the blanket next to Mickey, just close enough to press their legs together. He lets a hand rest between them, and Mickey shifts his weight off one elbow so he can take it, twining their fingers together. His eyes are on their children, the human and the furred, but he can see Ian smile from the corner of his eye.

“Nah,” he murmurs quietly. “Guess not.”

Ian leans in and presses a kiss to the side of his neck, then to his cheek. “Just think,” he whispers into Mickey’s ear, “in a few months we’ll have another one.”

Mickey can’t help but snort. “Yeah, if we can keep her incubator from runnin’ off and overdosing again before then.”

Ian nudges him with his knee, and Mickey looks over with a raised eyebrow. “Hey, I didn’t call her a bitch this time,” he points out, and Ian rolls his eyes.

“It’s progress, I guess,” he relents, settling more firmly into Mickey’s side. They sit together, holding hands, and watch Brit and Basil play under the bright noon sun.

“I want to come back once she’s here,” Ian mentions. “The new baby." He turns his gaze to Mickey, eyes soft. "All of us together, as a family.”

“Fuck no,” Mickey vetoes immediately. “You want to do all this with a noisy infant in a shit-filled diaper, you get to do it yourself.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Ian responds, and Mickey groans.

Because he knows if Ian wants it, he’ll be dragging a 40 lb dog, a hyperactive child, and a newborn around the damn park before he can even threaten divorce.

But as he watches his daughter walk their dog on the green grass, his husband reclining beside him on a soft blanket, the sun shining down on him, he thinks about adding a baby carrier to the picture, just there next to Ian. And he has to admit that it might not be too bad.

Bite | Fox Mulder x M!reader

request; Male!Reader with Fox Mulder and "It's not a date"/"It definitely was, mate"? - anon

 summary: Mulder really likes you - really, really likes you. 

 warnings: swearing, mentions of porn/sex/etc

 word count: 636

It was just a quick bite to eat and an empty conversation about whatever subject had popped into your head, but now you were waking up on an unfamiliar floor with a blanket on your waist and your clothes chucked in a pile across the room. Nothing had happened. Nothing of that sort, at least. Your ride just couldn't pick you up, so Fox had asked you to stay the night at his place - he didn't trust the weather to remain stable enough for the hour-long walk back to yours. You didn't either. You looked over to the sofa where he usually slept, but he was nowhere near it, and when you finally came to your senses, working through seasick-like grogginess, you caught a whiff of something cooking under the grill, and you grumbled, falling back onto the floor with an arm covering your eyes, your head pressed against a coarse sofa cushion. You sighed. 

"Hey," he peered round the corner and smiled. "You awake?" 

You nodded. "Just about." 

"I'm making cheese and jam sandwiches," Fox told you, and when you perked up and looked at him with eagerness, he shrugged. "I do listen - I'm just finishing them off." 

You scoffed, clearing your throat and trying to work through the last stages of groggy haziness. "I could've gotten my own breakfast on the way home, you didn't have to." 

"Scully told me you lied about that," he said, coming to sit on the coffee table beside you, his hands clasped between his knees. "She said you always say you'll get breakfast, and then you skip it." 

You shrugged, moving to sit up with your back against the wall, your forearms on your knees as you let out a sigh. "I'm a busy man, I don't have time for breakfast most days. You of all people should understand that." 

"I do," Fox agreed with a nod. "But still. My mum always told me to make breakfast when someone special spends the night." 

"I'm not anyone special," you shook your head. "I know that." 

Fox fell silent, scratching behind his ear for a moment. "So, what was last night? It's not a date." 

"It definitely was, mate," you chuckled. "But it…"

"It what?" 

"I know your type," you started, "go out for a date or two, fuck 'em, then leave 'em, right? I mean, shit, I know you call sex lines and look at porn pretty much constantly, the last relationship I can recall you having is with that fuckin' Tory prick who thought she had something going for her by being a fuckin' Thatcher supporter." 

"In my defence, I was younger back then," he laughed a little, shaking his head. 

"That's not a great excuse for going dogging on the cunt that wrote Sherlock's grave with a Tory - a Tory, Mulder.”

“I know, I know,” he swallowed thickly, leaning over so that he could lay his hand upon your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I think you’re different, though… you’re… I feel okay when I’m with you - for a start.” 

“Oh, not this cliche bullshit,” you scoffed playfully, nudging him as you rolled your eyes. “I’m not special, I’m not amazing or any of that… don’t try and lure me into thinking that I am just because you wanna fuck me.”

Fox frowned, shaking his head solemnly for a moment as he looked down at the floor. “Let’s have something to eat, and then, uh… do you wanna go to the zoo at some point today? I heard they got new snakes.”

You smiled, finally meeting his gaze as you bit at the inside of your lip. “A quick bite to eat and then a date?”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes - but only on one condition.” 

“Name it.” 

“Don’t let the fucking sandwiches burn.” 

back in love || jj maybank

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: three years since he left, he comes knocking on your door 

warning: cursing || not proof read in the slightest oops

notes: i wrote this in about thirty minutes, just wanted to take my mind away from studying so i hope y’all enjoy. it’s quiet short and simple but hey, sometimes they turn out to be the best ones

masterlist ||

The first thing that gave it away was the whispers and sympathy stares that followed you around all day. Then it was the spontaneous phone call you got from your mother. Then finally, it was the knock on your door that confirmed it. You knew it was bound to happen, but that still didn’t ease the nauseous feeling in your stomach when you opened your red coloured door, leading to the porch that overlooked the marsh. 

Usually, when you opened the door at this time, you were met with a beautiful sunset that glistened orange sparkles on your face. You usually had a cup of brewing tea in your hand, or a cold beer. But this time, you were met with the face of that man that left you nearly three years ago. 

His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, that draped over a pair of swim shorts. His gaze was to the floor, his head hanging low, and you could tell how tense he was with how his jawline was popping. He still had the boyish features, his tousled blonde hair and little stumble decorating his upper lip. 

Seeing him didn’t release the nauseous feeling, it only exaggerated it. You’ve thought about this moment every night for three whole years; the most common scenario was slapping him across the face and slamming the door in his face. But when he stood there, it was as if the anger just fizzled away and you were left aimlessly looking for some explanation. Why did he leave the Island, why did he leave you? 

JJ finally gained the courage to lift his eyes to you, his heart aching at the sight of pain and sorrow washing over your expression. He was speechless, he had thought about this moment every minute that he was gone. He wanted nothing more to wrap his arms around you, bringing you as close as he can, and never letting go but there was barrier there now. That same wall he spent years knocking down was there again, this time even higher than before. 

He sucked in a deep breath, offering you a sad smile. He wasn’t surprised when you didn’t return it, your face blank. ‘Hey,’ his voice was nothing more than a whisper, an exhale. 

‘Hi,’ you replied, your heart fluttering at the sound of his voice. 

‘Can I come in?’ 

You shook your head, ‘I think it’s best if you don’t.’ 

‘Oh, okay,’ JJ muttered, fidgeting at a loose strand in the pocket of his hoodie. ‘How have you been?’

You couldn’t even work up the effect to roll your eyes at his question, only shrugging in response. It was like the world around you paused, you hadn’t noticed any of passer bys or the barks of dogs that echoed in the background. You only saw JJ, with the orange sky outlining his figure. 

‘Have you finished college?’ He questioned, pleading for any kind of reaction from you. 

‘I dropped out.,.’

‘Oh,’ JJ was taken back, knowing that you had dreamed of having a successful career. It was why you used to get so stressed out when it came around to exam season, it was something he always admired; you also kept him in school, forcing him to study with you. ‘I bet you had good reasons, I mean it’s never too late to-’

‘JJ, are you honestly going to stand here and give me a speech about going to college?’ You interrupted, this time rolling your eyes in annoyance. 

‘I guess not.’

‘You’re right. Now if you don’t mind, can you please leave?’ The pain in your chest was getting too much, watching him tip toe around the topic hurt you. You thought you deserved as much as an explanation. ‘That’s what you’re good at anyways.’

‘Hey, now that’s not fair,’ JJ retorted, standing up straight and bringing his shoulders back. 

‘No!’ You exploded, watching his eyes widen in shock at your outburst, ‘What’s not fair is the fact that you fuckin’ disappeared anf fucked off for no god damn reason, and if you’re not going to tell me why, then kindly fuck off’ 

JJ blinked rapidly, his face heating up but he was solemnly focused on the bundle of tears piling up on your bottom lashes. He wanted to reach out and take you in his arms but he knew it would just be met with a slap across the face. He never remembered you cursing, nevermind cursing multiple times in one sentence but he knew you were upset, you were right to be upset. He messed up.

‘Why did you come here? Why did you come back?’ You asked when your outburst was met with complete silence. 

‘I-I thought it was time.. to come back. I missed you- no, let me talk,’ JJ begged, shutting you down before you retaliated on his statement. ‘I never planned on leaving, you have to believe that. It was an impulsive decision.’

‘Yeah, one that lasted three bloody years.’

‘Y/N, let me talk!’ JJ pressed, running his hand down his face. You kept quieting, indicating for him to continue. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, your face stern but his eyes only softened and he took a deep breath. “The first thing you need to know is that I loved you, I still do love you. Every day I was gone, I only thought of you. Every time I rang one of the guys, the first thing I asked about was you. I missed you like hell, honestly, the hardest thing to do was stay away.’

‘Why did you?’ You only whispered, not trusting your voice. 

‘I planned on coming back earlier, but then I found out you started seeing people again. I thought you were finally getting your life back, that spark you always had. I didn’t want to ruin that,” JJ swallowed deeply, his eyes flickering around your face. 

‘You still haven’t told me why you left...’ 

‘All I ever wanted was for you to be happy... I couldn’t do that, we were falling apart, you were miserable-’

You shook your head in disbelief, letting out a dry chuckle. ‘You know, usually couples try work through their problems. Not run away from them.’

‘I was young and stupid,’

‘Very.’ 

‘But that night, I bumped into your mother in the store.’ JJ retorted, biting down on his bottom lip. Shock filled your features, and you uncrossed your arms, tucking them into your pockets, feeling exposed. Your brows creased in confusion, waiting for JJ to continue. ‘Sh-She begged me to leave you...’ 

‘No, no..’ You muttered, feeling the tears immediately releasing down your cheeks. 

‘Y/N, I’m sorry but we both wanted the same thing, we wanted you to be happy and successful and I was holding you back.’ 

‘You didn’t have the right to make that decision!’ You forced, pushing him back on his heels. JJ grabbed your wrists, watching your emotions take over you and you crashed into his chest, sobbing into his white t-shirt. He quickly wrapped you up in an embrace, feeling your chest heaving rapidly. ‘Why didn’t you speak to me?’ You sobbed.

‘I’m so sorry..’ JJ mumbled into your hair, and he continued to whisper it softly until your breathing calmed down and you were all cried out. You don’t know how long you stayed there for, the sun was long gone, the night’s stars decorating the sky. You weren’t sure if it was the concept of being back in JJ’s arms that made you not want to pull away or the idea of confronting your mother who pretended to be concerned for you following the departure of JJ. 

‘Do you want to come in?’ You finally spoke when you detached yourself from him, your eyes moving from the tear stain on his t-shirt to his face. He nodded slowly, walking in behind you. The feeling that washed over him made him dizzy, it was like he never left; he welcomed the familiar smell that brought along a powerpoint of memories he shared with you in this house. 

JJ followed you into the living room, taking a seat next to you when you returned from the kitchen with two beers in hand. He accepted one from you, knocking it back, releasing a sigh when the cold liquid lined his throat. 

‘How long are you back for?’ You asked, crossing your legs on the couch.

JJ coughed awkwardly twisting to face you, ‘I-I bought a one way ticket.’ 

You tried to hide the twitch of a smile, knowing that you and JJ were nearly two completely different people from when you were teenagers. ‘So, you’re back for good?’

‘Yep, that’s the plan anyways...’ An awkward atmosphere surrounded the pair of you, you kept stealing glances at him and he was doing the same. It felt strange being back in his presence, but the love you once held for him was still there. You weren’t sure if it was ever going to go away. He still looked at you with the same soft eyes, a look of adoration that never faltered. 

As the night went on, the laughter increased and it was like he never disappeared. One beer turned to three, which ultimately led to being a bottle of your mother’s best wine. It wasn’t until you were laying on your couch, your legs draped over JJ’s knees and your eyes were drooping closed that JJ took that as his queue to leave. He lifted your legs from his and got up from the couch, pulling the blanket from the back of it to cover you. 

JJ watched you for a moment, your face calm and relaxed. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead and the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his wrist startled him. ‘JJ?’ You whispered, peeking your eyes open seeing him hovering over you. ‘Please don’t leave me again.’

‘I promise I won’t, we can speak tomorrow.’ JJ replied, but he haltered any movements when you shook your head.

‘Don’t leave me tonight, stay.’

‘You sure?’ He asked, but he was already kicking off his sneakers and climbing underneath the light blanket. The heat of your body wrapped around him, welcoming him as he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you as close as he can. He squeezed you tightly, causing you to giggle. 

Raising your hand to brush across his face, you missed being this close to him, feeling his breathe fawning over your face. His eyes were drooping, just like yours but you could still see the sparkle in them, the happiness. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent. ‘I missed this’ You broke the silence, feeling the vibration of his humming against yours cheek. 

You unconsciously brought your lips to his and he lazily leaned into the kiss. His eyes fluttered completely closed, as you insisted on deepening the kiss, bringing your tongue into his mouth. He never forgot what your kisses felt like, every night he imagined you laying there with him. Every night he dreamt of kissing you again. This didn’t even feel like real life right now, having you back in his arms. 

His fingers caressed your jaw, running them through your hair and pulling you even closer. The sound of the kiss echoed around the living room, but all he could hear was the beating of his heart and the blood rushing through his veins. You pulled away, breathing heavy. You took a moment to tell him how much you missed him before bringing your lips back to his. Welcoming the thought of spending the rest of the night like this. 

pls gimme feedback

Hey, it's that bit of writing I started working on 800 followers ago! I genuinely appreciate everyone being so patient on this and also just being so respectful with talking culture in general. I'm still getting used to it. Hang tight on that glossary, I'll post it asap

Edit: here's the glossary

~-~-~

It was a challenge to live on the Tundra, but never as much as when the Ikunmiut claimed the Southern Water Tribe as their territory and demanded tribute from the locals.

The whaling captain of one village assigned his own son, Aasrivak, to bring food to the soldiers, as a show of good faith. Aasrivak's younger sister, Tulugak, insisted on going along.

"Tulugak, my own daughter," the captain pleaded, "your mother and grandmother need your help at home."

"But Papa," she insisted, "how can I stitch a straight line or shoo birds from the drying rack if I don't know if brother is safe?"

Knowing he could not deter his daughter, the captain instead turned to his son and said, "Keep her behind you."

"Kangiqsirunga," Aasrivak answered, nodding and bringing Tulugak in the back of the sled with him, between his arms so she wouldn't fall. "I will, Papa."

"Now hurry," their father said. "The only thing worse than an Ikunmiu is an angry Ikunmiu."

Aasrivak nodded and cracked his whip, signaling the musk-dogs to run, and they were off.

The air they rushed through bit at her face with stinging cold, but Tulugak did not regret her decision. Her brother was a shining example of what a young Water Tribe man ought to be. Generous and kind, serious when it was required, but good-natured and gentle with his words. When she was old enough to eat solid food, he shared his with her. When he learned to carve, he made her a doll. When she hurt her foot helping him check traps, he carried her home on his back like a mother with a baby. When loose teeth made it hurt to chew anything, he brought her broth and soft berries that she could crush between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, rather than between her jaws. She'd often teased him for his propriety and his need for his tools to be just so, but she loved him dearly and couldn't bear if something happened and she couldn't be there to protect him.

When they arrived at the iglu near the ship with the Ikunmiut banner, Aasrivak began to unload the sled.

"Utaqqinga," he told his sister.

"But--"

"I told Papa I'd keep you behind me," he said, stacking the crates of goods and lifting them up. "Stay here."

"Itsingitchunga," she said, crossing her arms defiantly, as her only argument.

Aasrivak chuckled. "If you don't fear them, little sister," he said, "then you are a fool and shouldn't have come with me to begin with."

Hating to feel so useless, Tulugak went about checking the musk-dogs' teeth for rot, their paws for wound and splinters, and their horns for cracks. She petted them and scratched behind their ears for being so good and patient, and wondered how they did it. The smell was all wrong, even for her human nose, and they must have been able to sense that Aasrivak was in danger among the invaders.

Tulugak jolted at the sound of someone crashing to the floor. The possibility that it wasn't her brother would not occur to her, and she was already close enough to touch the banner by the time she realized she left the sled. The taste of blood poured into her mouth, as she had bitten down hard on her tongue. She was sure if the Ikunmiu who did it could her her call him a "gnashing wolf conceived of two pups of the same litter" as she wanted to, his fingers would be around her throat in the time it took to blink.

It wasn't Aasrivak collapsed on the floor, he stood and shielded her with his arm the moment she entered, but it wasn't an Ikunmii soldier either. The figure there had her hand at her face, where she must have been struck. And in spite of the red smudged on her lips, the lampblack drawn about her eyes, the scant garment she was wrapped in, she had an air of ancient power and dignity. More notable and haunting than that, she seemed to be a Water Tribe girl. A young woman, close in age to Tulugak herself. Her skin was like the browned fossil ivory, her eyes black and shining as baleen beads, and her unbraided hair as thick and dark as the winter's night.

How dare anyone strike her? Tulugak thought.

Her focus was only taken off of the young lady at the sound of an unfamiliar voice cooing, "Oh, this one's almost pretty as ours."

Aasrivak pushed her further behind him.

"She's--" he started, trying to think of something, "she's to be married, sir."

"What a shame!" This voice was a different one still, and refusing to look at them, Tulugak couldn't put a face to it. "Kept in the ice and snow, carving fish and sewing skins and breeding like a dog. Wouldn't you rather come home with me, dear?"

"Enough!" snapped another. "It's bad enough we have one. You, boy," Aasrivak straightened at this address. "See to it your father doesn't forget tobacco next time."

"Kangiq--" the word stopped as if it had barbs in his throat. Aasrivak and his sister both heard what the Ikunmiut did to people who didn't speak properly. "I understand, sir." He bowed his head deeply, and pushed Tulugak out before turning to follow her, but she could still feel those baleen colored eyes on them, begging for help and protection.

Aasrivak nudged Tulugak onto the sled without a word. His gloved hands gripped the handles with almost enough force to break them and then they began to shake. Without warning, he stomped down on the brake and Tulugak hit her belly on the bar.

"You shouldn't have left the sled," he told her, trying to keep his voice from shaking as his hands were.

"I thought they struck you down," she explained. "I thought you were hurt, I--"

"If they struck me down I could have gotten up, but you-- they could have taken you away!" His hands could have bruised her arms with how tightly he held them. "Ilitchuģipich? If I was hurt I could have recovered, but if they took you away from us, Tulugak, there are things they could do to you that we could never undo."

Aasrivak so rarely cried, and seeing the tears well up in his eyes was all the proof Tulugak needed that he truly believed the worst could have happened.

"And niviaķsiaķ? What of their captive?" she asked once she found her voice again, though niviaķsiallautaķ was the word that danced in her mind. "We can't leave her there if she can face such things too."

"She's not one of ours," he answered cautiously.

"It shouldn't matter what village she's from."

"No, that's not what I mean. Those men, they told me that they found a fox pelt the night she appeared. That she wouldn't leave without it and gave a great cry when they held it over flame. They have her cooking and making their tea now, as she had brought meat with her."

"She wouldn't leave her pelt?" she asked. "You mean she's--"

"Kayuķtuķ, it would seem."

Of course she was a fox; one of those foxes that take off their skins to reveal a beautiful woman underneath. The ones that look after babies that couldn't be fed and keep house for hunters. She couldn't have been a person, she was too -- enchanting? -- otherworldly. And of course the Ikunmiut took her. They took everything that didn't belong to them

"So she is among strangers in a world that is not her own," Tulugak stated, carefully feeling the words come out of her mouth. They felt strange, even though they rang true. "Aasrivak, we can't leave her to them! She ought to have her skin and be far away."

"We need to be far away from them too."

"Is her soul not made the same as ours? Is her current form not proof of that?"

Aasrivak thought to himself for a moment before he spoke up again. "If I agree to help her with you, little sister, you must promise me you will not put yourself in harm's way again. Can you promise me that?"

Tulugak stretched her eyebrows up as high ad they would go, nodding solemnly.

He threw his arms around her and inhaled as if to breath her fully into his lungs. She returned the gesture, holding her brother so tight nothing could take him from her.

"We'll figure it out when you help me mend the traps and nets," he said.

She nodded again, knowing he wouldn't see but would still understand. They got back on the sled and made their way home.

Aasrivak told Papa that he kept his sister behind him but didn't mention the soldiers' spirit captive. As agreed upon, the brother and sister came up with a few ideas as she helped him mend his net outside. Mama and Aaka were inside, spinning the greyish brown musk-dog wool with spindles on waterbending-powered wheels, and Papa was away, helping some returning hunters butcher their catch of seal and taking what they didn't need to the widows and elders.

They had for their supper the mikigaq that had simmered with fireweed and sourdock. No rice, Mama and Aaka decided. Mama realized that with the occupation, there was no way to be sure when more would be imported, and Aaka was proud that such a woman married her son. Cartilage had been cut into tiny pieces and added near the end in its place.

As she lay on her ķaatchiaķ that night, Tulugak found herself thinking of her mother's sister. She had three husbands and enjoyed that very much. The three of them jumped to bring her water when she suggested she was thirsty, carved beautiful beads for her to wear, and every night each would kiss the calloused thumb and finger in which she held her needle. What a cruel mockery of that the fox girl's situation seemed to her. She remembered hearing that Ikunmii women weren't allowed more than one husband, and that only some of the men could take more than one wife. No wonder they couldn't share a girl between them without striking her, couldn't play the husbands as they expected her to play the wife. It's all they can do, she thought before drifting off to sleep, steal and mock.

Wishes

A little time travel... for a treat...

Jon doesn’t believe in fate, or signs, or serendipity or any of that bullshit. But, he will admit that something is telling him that the time is right ‘to do the thing’ now. ‘The thing’ in question being telling Sansa how he feels.

For years he’d stamp down those admirations – the desire she’d spark or the warm, glow-y feeling she’d ignite low in his belly – because she was his best friend’s sister, and Robb was (understandably) ridiculously protective of Sansa after she’d had a couple of bad experiences with guys in her teens and early twenties. When they’d all been younger, Jon had felt like if he had actually done anything about the way his best friend’s sister makes him feel, then he’d be compromising his friendship with Robb or some shit. He can sneer at his younger self now, but that possible betrayal had felt real at the time.

The current problem Jon faced was boyfriend-shaped – specifically, Sansa’s boyfriend, Harry. What kind of a douche would he be if he confessed to always having feeling for her while she’s involved with someone else?

So instead he sulked and admired from afar... or not so ‘afar’ as it were, since he and Sansa had gotten even closer in terms of friendship since Robb married Rhaenys and moved south to Dorne.

Anyway, tonight is THE night. He can feel it. She’d recently broken up with Harry but even Sansa has admitted to him that it was a long time coming AND he’d just gotten off the phone to her asking him to come over because she has something she wants to show him.

What it actually is that she wants to show him, he does not know. Oh, he can imagine. But then he’s been imagining a hell of a lot when it comes to Sansa Stark.

It’s probably a new craft she’s learnt. She is forever finding things to try through YouTube tutorials. Just last month she taught herself to crochet and made him a blanket. It still kind of has that Sansa smell to it which Jon totally doesn’t hold to his nose like some sort of lovesick dork. (He does.)

With nerves all a-jumble as he pulls up to her little ground-floor flat, Jon prays to the Gods that he doesn’t believe in that he’s not about to a) make an absolute fool of himself and b) completely ruin the friendship that means the most to him right now. Maybe he would completely chicken out of this if it hadn’t been the little glimmers of hope he’s seen over the years; the way she’d look at him sometimes, an invitation in her eyes, the way she’s so tactile with him... the way she’s never called him out when she’s caught him staring at her ass.

God-damn, she has a nice ass.

Alright, Seven Hells, Jon. Get a grip!

The motion detector light Sansa has above her front door turns on as he approaches and her door swings open before he has a chance to even reach for the doorbell. Jon’s kind of abashed that he startles a little. His head’s not in the game yet and there she stands in all her glory – holding the power to make him elated or miserable.

“Sorry,” Sansa winces, noticing how her quick-to-answer actions had made him jump. “It’s just that he doesn’t like a lot of the noises of the house... or outside. The doorbell would’ve really freaked him out so-”

“He?” Jon asks, stepping over her threshold and ridding himself of his coat to hang on her hooks. “You get a dog or something?”

She looks nervous. Why is she nervous? “Err... no, not a dog.”

She’s twiddling with her fingers as she glances behind herself towards the lounge and back to Jon.

“Sansa?” Jon scoops up her hands and holds them gently. He gives them a squeeze and hopes that she knows what that squeeze means – that whatever that’s got her nervous, he’ll be there, he’ll help her through whatever it is. He’d do anything for her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Her earnest eyes glaze over a little as she blinks at him. She does that sometimes – Jon thinks it’s a reaction to the endearment and he’s ashamed to admit that he calls her ‘sweetheart’ at any opportunity he gets just to see her shiver or bite down on her lip.

She’s moving close now. Her mouth parts, drawing him in like a moth to the flame. He leans closer still, about to close his eyes and just – go for it. Maybe he doesn’t need words right now? Maybe he should just show her? Lay all the years of yearning out in one searing kiss.

What will she taste like?

Will it make her moan into his mouth?

Will she grasp at his hair? Tug a little? Pull him ever closer until there couldn’t possibly be any space left between them?

“I tossed a coin,” she whispers, eyes glued to his lips.

Jon’s brain switches tracks – slowly, and confusingly. Where is this current track going? “What?”

Jon watches Sansa shake herself out from under whatever spell they’d both cast here in her little entrance hallway.

Way to go, dumbass. She’s barely broken up from her boyfriend and you can’t step one foot over threshold without wanting to shove your tongue down her throat?

“I tossed a coin in the water,” Sansa repeats, making some space between them both. “At the hotsprings up at the old castle ruin.”

Jon was lost. “Okay?”

“And I made a wish and.... I think it came true?” Jon nods but Sansa is back to glancing behind herself, back toward her lounge.

Jon doesn’t believe in fate and wishes and all that gubbins. But Sansa does, so he’ll humour her. “What did you wish?”

Sansa’s twiddling with her fingers again. “I wished to fall in love,” she states quietly. “I wished for a good man who definitely, without question loves me back... in a romantic way, not like a friend.”

Ok, that last part was definitely aimed at him. Jon stutters, his foot jutting forward and his hand reaching out. He needs to tell her – he needs to tell her NOW. “Sansa, I-“

There’s an almighty crash in the lounge making Sansa spin and leave to go and see to the commotion. What on earth is it? Did she adopt a wild animal or something? That sounds exactly like something Sansa Stark would do. Jon follows, curious.

What he sees when he rounds the corner is not a wild animal... but a man; a man dressed very oddly and wielding a big-ass sword. “What the fuck?” Suddenly, the sword is aimed at him. Jon grabs for Sansa and yanks her behind himself. “Take what you want, man, but you can think fucking twice if you think you’re touching her.” His heart was racing.

“Unhand her!” The man orders. He’s dressed in some kind of medieval-renaissance-fayre-cosplay-get-up with leather and furs and riding boots and shit and-... apart from the scars on his face... looks... exactly like Jon?

Sansa steps out from behind him with her hands raised but Jon doesn’t really notice – he’s too busy having some sort of mental breakdown as he stares at his doppelganger, mouth agape.

“It’s ok, Jon, it’s alright,” she says, cooing at the Lord-of-the-Rings-cosplayer version of himself like he was the wounded wild animal that Jon had previously envisioned Sansa adopting. “Lower your sword,” she urges gently. “This is my friend, Jon – like I told you. The one that looks exactly like you! Do you remember?”

The medieval imposter’s shoulders seem to release their tension under that big-ass dead badger or whatever the fuck it is he’s wearing. “Aye,” he says with a chuckle. “It is good to meet you, Jon.” He sheathes his sword and steps forward, offering his hand. “I am Jon, Jon Snow.”

In part daze, part confusion and a whole heap of what the fuckity-fuck?!?!, Jon finds himself shaking the weirdo’s hand before pulling himself out of it. “Wait, what? No you’re not. I’m Jon Snow. Sansa,” he says, turning to her, “what is this? What’s going on?”

Am I tripping on something I don’t even remember taking?

“It’s like I told you, Jon. I tossed a coin into the hotspings and made a wish. I wished for someone to love me and then Jon appeared from behind the weirwood tree. At first I thought it was you pulling some weird prank,” she says, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of her vase that medieval-boy here clearly knocked off with his admittedly cool sword. The doppelganger knelt too to help her, a bashful sort of smile on his face when their eyes met. Jon did not like it. “But then I called you,” she says, wrenching her eyes away from the other Jon to look up at him. “Do you remember? Earlier today? I called and when you’d answered, I distractedly said I’d forgotten why I’d called?”

Yeah – he remembers. He’d thought –hoped- that she had wanted to confess some deep, burning love for him only for her courage to dry up when she’d squeaked at hearing his voice. It hadn’t occurred to him that she was just verifying that there were indeed two of him now. How silly of him.

“My apologies for the breakage,” the other Jon murmurs to Sansa, “your magic tablet came alive with sound and light and began moving across the surface in a rhythmic dance. I was unsure of the entity it would conjure and so drew my sword. I hope you can forgive me?”

“My phone,” Sansa mutters to herself in realisation. She reaches for it as it laid there on her coffee table. “I’d better put this on silent and turn off the vibration alerts,” she says with a smile aimed at middle-ages-moron next to her.

Jon purses his lips and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Okay, what is this?” If this is some kind of prank, he was over it yesterday.

Fur-boy stands and sighs. “I don’t claim to be knowledgeable in things such as these,” he starts in an admittedly gruff voice that Jon kind of hates. “All I know is that in my second lifetime, I didn’t get the chance to love Sansa as I’d wanted. We thought each other to be siblings and when I died again, I thought it was to be my last time...” he turns, giving Sansa a moon-struck look. “And I died wishing I could have loved you the way my heart wanted to.” Sansa’s answering expression looks as though her insides have gone all gooey.

“Wait – wait – wait!” Jon – the real Jon – says, stepping in between the two now. “First of all, you had the hots for your sister?”

Cosplay-Jon’s eyes don’t leave Sansa’s as he nods solemnly.

“Ok... just sayin’... kinda gross.” That earns him a playful slap on the shoulder from Sansa. “What?! It is! Secondly... what’s this about a ‘second life’ and ‘died again’?”

“I have danced death’s steps twice,” the other Jon says. “The first time I was brought back I knew my purpose was to protect her,” the damn man is looking Sansa again. “And this being the second, I fully believe that it is to love her properly this time.”

This guy has really lost his fucking mind. “Hold on there, buddy,” Jon says, squaring his shoulders. “Sansa isn’t yours to love, she’s-“ He glances at her, his heart thudding painfully against his ribs at her expectant expression. “Well.... she’s – can I talk to you in private a minute?” he says, ushering Sansa out of the room and back into the hallway. “You have to get rid of him, he’s a few slices short of a pizza.”

Sansa chuckles. “What?”

“Sansa, he’s an absolute nutter!”

“No, he’s not! He’s telling the truth, Jon!”

They both turn to peer back into Sansa’s lounge to see medieval-land boy picking up her TV remote with two tentative fingers and studying it like it had just landed from outer space.

Jon shoves his fingers up under his glasses and rubs at his eyes in exasperation. “Sansa, this dude went LARPing and bumped his head or something, shit – I don’t know, but this is all insane!”

She’s not even looking at him as he talks. She’s practically drooling at his doppelganger with hearts in her eyes as the lunatic in leather armour settles on her couch with his big-ass cloak, his hands curled around one of Sansa’s mugs (black with gold writing that says ‘Boss Bitch’ and little pink hearts). He takes a tentative sip of whatever it is that Sansa had made for him while he continues to study the room he finds himself in.

This is ridiculous. He thought this was his time! He never envisioned that he’d lose her to... himself?... himself but with a big-ass-sword?

Seven-fucking-hells!

Breaking Through the Iron Wall - Aone Takanobu x Reader

Chapter 17  

In an instant, I sprung up from my bed - no longer tired. "I'm coming." I stated, immediately changing into to some more appropriate clothes than the pyjamas I was wearing at the time. 

Speeding down the stairs, I grabbed a hold of my coat, while clumsily fumbling with the laces of my shoes. My dad seemed to be disturbed by the humungous racket I was causing, standing at the summit of the stairs, tiredly rubbing his eyes, his voice raspy from being abruptly woken up. He must have noticed the panicked expression on my face, understanding the situation rather quickly – giving me a sullen smile, “I’m proud of you, kiddo. Come back when you’re ready.” He said, waving me off with a sleepy hand.

I hastily locked the door behind me, almost running down the street – even though the moonlight barely lit up the pavements before me. Even after squinting to try to get my eyes to adjust to the lack of light – I could hardly see a thing; but even so, my legs carried me the whole way to Takanobu’s house, as if they were being called towards it.

Someone must have kept the front door open for my sake, as I had no trouble in opening it. Trying my best to make as little noise as possible as I stepped over the threshold into the house, I laid my eyes upon the scene on the living room’s floor. Both Ejiri and Takanobu were sprawled out on the carpet, either side of Shiro – both of their pairs of eyes brimming with abundances of tears, with some already cascading down their faces.

Somehow, Shiro appeared even more sickly than the last time I had seen him, his hair much sparser, his bones protruding more than before, his eyes glistening with a type of pain I had never seen before – pleading for a sense of relief that no one could grant him.

Underneath Takanobu’s eyes sat sunken bags, the pallor of a bruise. His expression sullen, sapped and unchanging – seemingly exhausted from being far too anxious to sleep. His cheeks were gaunter, parodying those of a malnourished child – it was obvious that he hadn’t been eating either – too internally turmoiled to do anything.

Whimpering and cowering on the floor, Shiro began gasping frantically for whatever air he could fathom – the colossal amounts of anguish he was experiencing reverberating from his frail self.

I couldn’t help but run straight towards him, beside the broken figure of Takanobu, whose eyes were shining with a stinging shade of red. Collapsing onto the floor, I ran my hand over Shiro’s back, feeling unnerved by each of his vertebrae jutting outwards. I tried my best to console his cries, softly telling him that everything would be okay. But I wasn’t really saying that to Shiro, I knew, in reality, that I was actually uttering them to solace he who sat to my side.

Almost instantly, Takanobu’s head fell down onto my shoulder, immediately letting himself go – as if all the sorrow and trepidation he had been bottling up inside were tumbling outwards. First, he lightly sobbed onto me, his breath hitching slightly, then, he began blubbering and weeping as if it was his last day on Earth – which, being frank, was     probably exactly how he felt.

In a matter of minutes, his grieving grew so intense that he struggled to intake oxygen, with his face still buried in my shoulder, lamentation taking control of his body. Gingerly, I raised my hand until it sat atop his hair, gently caressing it while I let it swirl and run around my fingers. He almost seemed to sink at my touch, his shoulders releasing the tension they were holding, the pressure inside of him completely fizzling out. For the time being…

While Takanobu nestled into my shoulders further, he never let his eyes leave his companion laid on the floor – who has quickly losing his grasp on the living world. By his side, Ejiri sighed with an undertone of unease laced into her expression – and from my inference, I knew exactly what she was thinking.

I tenderly nudged my shoulder that Takanobu laid on, signalling to him that Shiro’s end was right in front of our faces. As he rose, he took a deep breath of reassurance to himself that he could get through it. Without a second thought, he scooped Shiro up delicately in his arms, careful not to move in any way that could potentially cause him any discomfort.

Sentimentally, he smiled at his friend, perhaps reminiscing about past times they spent together, the times when the spindly fingers of death weren’t looming down upon their lives. Takanobu cradled the frail form in his arms, rocking him at a steady, gentle rhythm – stroking his fur with an extremely light touch.

Slowly but surely, Shiro’s panting for air became truly exasperated – the agony from the lack of it clawing and scrabbling at his throat – the whimpers exiting from his mouth cutting through the atmosphere in an excruciating manner. He writhed around in Takanobu’s arms, the pure hurt overriding everything else around him – burning every single nerve in his body, as if he was being stabbed by white-hot knives.

And suddenly, a stagnant plateau ripped through the air, no longer was Shiro struggling for breath, no longer was he writing around in absolute agony, but somehow he still hung on, clinging onto his last thread of life. Feeling despaired, Takanobu lovingly stroked his dog’s head for the last time, savouring the feeling of his warmth for the final minute, smiling down at him for the final moment. Just as he murmured his last ‘Goodbye’, was when Shiro spluttered – the last of his existence trailing out from his body.

He was dead.

Gone.

The air fell reticent, no one dared to say a single word. Instead, Takanobu dropped to his knees, still clutching onto the newly deceased corpse of Shiro, burying his face into his fur; sobbing as if his world had ended. Which was probably the figurative truth for him.

“Why… Why… Why… Why… Why…” Takanobu uttered meekly, falling into a pit of tremendous grief.

Sensing his distraught state, Ejiri shuffled towards him, prying Shiro’s lifeless body from his arms – having to put a substantial amount of effort in to do so. She smiled solemnly at her nephew, brushing her hand along his bicep, telling him that now was the time to let go of the corpse of his truest friend – who once was everything to him. But now, he was nothing more than a gradually waning memory.

Eventually, Takanobu gave in, cautiously handing Shiro over into the arms of Ejiri, a distraught look upon his face. He shakily raised his hands up to his chest, winding them around each other, each hand grasping onto the other – pressing them into his torso, his face contorting from overwhelming emotions.

Ejiri softly spoke from out of the blue, “I think you should say goodbye now, Takanobu.” Setting Shiro down on the sofa, wrapping him in a blanket acting in the role of a shroud.

Takanobu knelt on the floor nest to the sofa, hesitantly uncovering the fabric from Shiro’s face, cupping it in one of his hands – beginning to blubber at the sight of his former pet’s eyes glazed over, “Thank you, Shiro,” He began, pushing back his tears. “You were always there to make me smile – even when I felt like I couldn’t. When I felt like I had no one to turn to, you were there, always. When I felt like the whole world was against me, I was never truly alone. Even though we never spoke, you taught me that there was good in this world – and for all of that, thank you, goodbye.” He paused, wiping his eyes, while swiftly glancing up at me, “And, I love you.”

I froze when he said that, even if those words weren’t directed at me, they still resonated within me, as if… I wanted to hear them.

After saying my short farewell to Shiro, Ejiri bundled the shrouded corpse in her arms – finally taking it away, presumably to the crematorium. A distant look of longing reflected in Takanobu’s eyes as he watched his aunt carry the bundle to the car. Looking at him in that agony made my heart burn, so I immediately guided him to the sofa, setting him down so he lay against it, letting his head loll against the cushions, having no energy to use his strength to keep it held upright.    

I pushed myself upwards, heading towards the kitchen in order to prepare a glass of water for the wreck in the living room. After placing it down on the coffee table, trying to stir up as little commotion as possible – I hopped placidly onto the sofa, crossing my legs, directly behind where Takanobu rested his head. But rather than rise to quench his thirst from unrelenting mourning, instead he gazed straight at me, the nape of his neck upon the edge of the sofa. His eyes were glazed over with a sheen of unadulterated hurt – but there was something behind them – just the way he looked at me… It was so bittersweet.

I couldn’t help but stroke his hair, letting the crisp, white blades run passed and around my fingers, while giving his scalp a small massage. A small, earnest smile cracked from his lips – the left side of them curling upwards like it always did. Releasing a sombre sigh, he let a single tear roll down his cheek; and as if by instinct, I reached over to his face to wipe it away, as if I didn’t want his melancholy to sully him – as if I wanted him to stay okay, at least – for which I was truly desperate for.

Chuckling mirthlessly, Takanobu gruffly spoke, his voice damaged from persistently grieving, “Thank you, (Y/N). From the bottom of my heart, honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stayed with me, even though… You deserve so much more than me. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve met – if not the kindest. You mean so much to me.” His face crumpled with tears, which I soon wiped away, assuring him that I was still there, and always would be – no matter the time of day.

“No, Takanobu, thank you. You have been nothing but the paragon of a friend, since the first day we met. And even if you feel as though you haven’t done enough to ‘deserve’ me, you should know that that isn’t true at all. Not one bit. You mean so much to me, too – you really have no idea” I replied, smiling fondly while caressing Takanobu’s cheek with my thumb, wiping away any tears that continued to fall.

Without saying another word, Takanobu outstretched his arm, tenderly placing his hand upon my own, rubbing his thumb comfortingly over the back of my hand – staring straight into my eyes while smiling serenely – his pupils heavily dilated, despite the more than adequate amount of light in the room.

I don’t remember how much time we spent in that position – our hands and eyes intertwined with his head very nearly resting in my lap – but I do now that a small eternity passed before Ejiri returned from the crematorium, the house one soul shorter. But when she walked through the door, Takanobu abruptly removed my palm from his grasp and diverting his line of sight. Wringing his hands together in his lap, he stared down at the floor – quite obviously flustered.

Clearing her throat, Ejiri broke the newly awkward silence, “Do you two want anything to eat? We don’t want you to go to sleep with an empty stomach, now do we?” She smiled, walking over to the kitchen, her usual pep in her step having disappeared, yet she still kept up her cheery front, as if she felt unable to break in front of her nephew.

Takanobu nodded in affirmation, still not looking up from the ground. “Is there anything you would like, my dear?” She asked, turning to me from across the way.

“Oh no, I really don’t mind.” I responded.

“Do tell me if you change your mind though, darlings.” She averred, turning to the cupboards to find the ingredients to whatever she planned to make.

Little time had come before Ejiri placed three bowls upon the dining table, each one brimming with a steaming soup – they smelled delicious.

However, after I sat down to indulge in the small meal, I entirely lost my appetite, even though it looked rather appetising. The same could seem to be said about Takanobu, who was feverishly trying to force the soup down his throat, much to no avail, as he began heaving at the food in his mouth. Desperately, he scampered to the bathroom with his hand clamped over his mouth. Immediately and without a single second of hesitation, both Ejiri and I rushed to the bathroom door, which had been strangely locked from the inside.

Ejiri softly wrapped her knuckles against the wood, asking to be let in, trying to raise her voice above the sickening sound of Takanobu’s retching. But there was no reply from him. So, I decided to ask if I could be let in the bathroom, to which my request was granted.

Closing the door behind me, leaving Ejiri at the other side of the threshold – instantly dropping to Takanobu’s side while rubbing his back while he clung to the toilet’s lid, violently throwing up. The sight before me was truly agonising to look at, especially since Takanobu had hardly consumed a thing that day.

Takanobu eyes watered in agony from the absolute discomfort of regurgitating a highly acidic substance – he pushed through the uneasiness, trying to push out dialogue, “I’m sorry, (Y/N). You shouldn’t have so see this.” He croaked in between the constant heaves.

“I really don’t care about that, Takanobu. What matters now, is that I’m here with you.” I smiled, “Just take your time.”

He glanced at me through the side of his eyes, his vision moving up and down my person – his eyelids drooping from overexertion – smiling with a nature that I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Quite some time passed before the ailing wretch before me curtailed his vomiting, but after he did, the only noticeable aspect of him was his pure enervation – his entire frame collapsing onto mine, the added weight nearly toppling me over. I tried to steady the both of us, clumsily striving to lead him over to his bed – which required quite the amount of vigour.

As soon as I deposited him upon his bed, it seemed as though he completely passed out from heightened fatigue – however, I was deeply mistaken. Just as I was about to leave to slumber on the sofa downstairs, Takanobu firmly grasped onto my wrist, preventing my exit, “Stay... Please…” He tiredly rasped.

Pausing in my tracks, I turned back around – setting myself down on the carpet, leaning towards him – gazing at his sleepy figure. “I could stay on the floor, if you’d like?” I whispered serenely.

Sluggishly, he shook his head, gulping before he spoke, “Could you stay here, with me? I don’t want to be alone tonight.” His eyes shining hopefully in the dimly illuminated air.

“Oh…” I said in shock, as a reflex to his question.

Takanobu peered off to the side sheepishly, “Only if that’s okay with you, of course.”

I cupped his face, encouraging him to look at me directly. Noticing his expression had been greatly saddened, I couldn’t find the heart to refuse his request. “I’ll stay with you.” I chuckled, “Just scoot over a bit.”

Without hesitation, I clambered into his bed, expecting the encounter to be deeply awkward. But to my pleasant surprise, it was nothing of the sort.

Almost immediately, Takanobu wrapped both of his arms around me tightly, as if he couldn’t stand to let me go, nuzzling his chin into the top of my head. Exhaling calmly, I let all of my previous stress and discomfort depart my body, until my mood was nothing but mellow. In his arms, even though I had no way to move, I felt right at home.

It took little time for Takanobu to fall right into the depths of torpor, his breathing calming considerably as it managed to make every single hair on my body stand on end. But while he lay in his stupor, almost like a reflex, one of his hands made its way towards my own, our fingers intertwining like a perfectly clad jigsaw. At any other time, I would have felt utterly smothered, but there was something there… Something in the way he clung to me, his touch still remaining as gentle as a collector handling their porcelain doll.

A hammering beat rang through my ears, my heart thrumming out of control – I tried to assure myself that my flustered state could be chalked down to nothing more than the sudden contact. But I didn’t let that thought trouble me for too long, instead relaxing into the warm embrace of Takanobu’s body. Soon, every tension in me released itself, unwinding each of their unrelenting grips from around me – coercing me into the pits of slumber.

Despite the heart wrenching turn of events of that day and the day to come, that night was perhaps the best sleep of my life – dreaming of being cast into a field adorned by an abundance of romantically red tulips, much like a field I remember from my childhood back in Hokkaido, frolicking around without a care in the world. However, something about that field felt strikingly new, as if there was something major to be discovered there.

As I woke, my eyelids fluttering, adapting to the morning sunlight – I was met with a pair of eyes gazing straight into mine, pupils dilated greatly. Sheepish, they became upon realising that their watching session had been uncovered. Immediately, Takanobu shot up from his lying position, springing backwards awkwardly. Perplexed by his sudden display of discomfiture, I sleepily raised my eyebrows. “Sorry.” Was all he replied.

“You don’t need to apologise.” I softly spoke, reaching my hand forward to clasp onto his – caressing my thumb over his knuckles. With his knees tucked beneath his chin, he spun his head towards me, casting a somewhat adoring glance my way – tightening his grasp around his hand as if he would never let go.

I too sat up, taking my place beside Takanobu, not once releasing my hand from his – resting my head on his shoulder, warm and secure – with him, in due time, laying his head upon my own. He didn’t have to say anything for me to know the pain he was in – even if his stoic expression had barely a crack in it.

We stayed in that position until Ejiri knocked on the door, calling us downstairs for breakfast, even if Takanobu’s appetite had yet to return. By the time I had finished my plate of comestibles, there was barely even a dint in his, the gargantuan lump in his throat preventing him from ingesting anything. I couldn’t tell what part of him would break first.

As Takanobu and I lay on the sofa, our hands intertwined still – Ejiri having left for her shift at work – he proposed the idea of inviting Futakuchi over to the house, and of course I couldn’t deny a broken man.

Less than fifteen minutes after calling him, Futakuchi arrived at the door, devoid of his trademark smirk, as well as a snarky remark, for the time being…

Just as he hung his coat up, he made perhaps the worst timed quip he had ever made, “So what are you two doing here alone?” He inquired, oblivious to the events of the previous night.

Straight away, I shot him a deadly glare, “Kenji.” I scorned, not in the mood for entertaining one of his jests. That being the first time I had called him by his given name, he was immensely taken aback, but I wasn’t completely sure why. Was it the fact I had called him by his first name, or the fact that someone had shot him down from his pedestal and into the mud.

“Ohhh…” He said in shock, realising how distasteful his statement was, “God, I’m so sorry, Takanobu, I really didn’t realise.”

Takanobu shook his head to show he wasn’t fazed by what Futakuchi has insensitively spoke – but I knew that wasn’t genuine dismissal, at all.

A few moments of awkward silence passed by before the shattered boy broke it, “Kenji, can we talk?” Takanobu queried, while twiddling his thumbs around one another.

“Sure…” Kenji replied, curiously – seemingly endeavouring to the infer the subject of the coming conversation before it arrived. But just before they left for Takanobu’s bedroom, he turned to me, “Hey, your highness… The hour seems to rather adequate to that in which civilised people would dine, don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Futakuchi – it is lunchtime.” I sighed.

“So, Takanobu and I were wondering… Could you perhaps prepare us a fine dining experience of some lavish kuri kinton? It’s my here friend’s very favourite food in the entire world. For him, of course.” He acquiesced, guiding Takanobu up the stairs before either him or I had the chance to reply.

For Takanobu.

Luckily, I knew the basic recipe for kuri kinton, nothing special – I hoped my making it would at least encourage him to eat.

All the ingredients were conveniently hidden around the kitchen, allowing for a stress-free preparation, for the most part. I believed that everything was flowing absolutely swimmingly, until I somehow managed to set the smoke alarm off while boiling the sweet potatoes. Deafening were the alarm’s whines.

Frantically, I attempted to turn it off, beginning to panic. But just as I was about to turn the alarm’s sensor off temporarily, a wide-eyed Futakuchi came careening down the stairs, his face screaming the epitome of dread. He ran over to the switch, managing to turn it off before I could, acting as if he saved the house from a crisis, his smirk as broad as ever. Little did I know, the crisis had already been set into motion.

Kenji joined me in the kuri kinton’s preparation – resulting in a merely adequate meal. Holding the steaming plate in my hand, I wrapped my knuckles upon the door to Takanobu’s room waiting to be let in. There was no reply – just silence. Nervously, Futakuchi and I stepped into his room in tandem, only for it to be completely devoid of his presence. My heart dropped.

I motioned over to the bathroom door, noticing the lock latched tight. We both pressed our ears against the wood, hearing a faint whimpering behind it. My body froze, dropping the plate of kuri kinton all over the floor, the plate crashing with a shuddering clank.

I knew exactly what was happening, and it hurt… so much.

And in that moment I realised exactly why that pain I felt was so immense. It was because…

I loved him.

Dog of the Military- Chapter 5

Lots of whumph here. And a bit of medical care.

Chapter 5- Triage

They got a room on the second floor- as soon as Roy unlocked the door, Ed strode in, albeit shakily. Roy expected the first thing the boy would go for was the bed, but to his surprise, Ed opened the door to the bathroom, turning on the tap and sticking his head under the water, drinking straight from the faucet.

The kid spent a good three minutes just drinking, and Roy realized with a sinking sense of certainty that Ed obviously hadn't been given water in a long time.

"When was the last time you drank anything, Fullmetal?"

"Last night. That lady- the Lieutenant- she snuck me a mug of water."

Ed strode out of the bathroom, falling into the closest bed and letting out a long sigh.

"And the last time you ate anything?"

"Uh... a day or two?" Ed mumbled into the pillow.

Roy felt indignation burn in his chest. "Right. So you get back and Banks threw you in a cell with no food or water for two days?"

"Pretty much."

Roy wanted to kick a hole in the wall. But he didn't. Ed sounded half asleep, anyways.

"Do you have any clean clothes?"

"Back at the fort, I think."

"Right." That was out, then. Roy would have to buy the kid something to wear- the kid's shirt was basically rags anyways.

"What else did he do to you, Fullmetal?" Roy tried to keep the anger from his voice.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Roy wanted to push the issue. He really did. But he was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door.

"Hello?" he pulled the door partially open, only to be met with the innkeeper- a rather homely looking woman- who was looking at him tentatively.

She held a plate in her hands, and a fresh loaf of brown bread was sitting on it, as well as a mug of broth. "I brought you this." Despite the fact she was talking to Roy, her eyes seemed to search the room behind him. Ed really had been a sight- shambling, bloodied as he was, through her lobby a few minutes ago.

Roy looked over the offering, nodding. "Thank you."

He stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. "Is there a doctor in this town?"

The woman nodded. "Shall I send for him?"

"That would be helpful if you could, thank you."

The woman nodded, handing him the plate of food, before she scurried back down the hall.

Roy stepped back into the room- Ed didn't make a move at the sound of his entrance- he was still sprawled out on his stomach on the bed. Roy tried to ignore the blood stains on the back of the boy's shirt.

"Wake up, Fullmetal. The innkeeper was nice enough to bring you some food."

"Hmm?" Ed lifted his head, managing to turn over in bed and carefully sitting up, tearing into the loaf of brown bread as through his life depended on it and finishing the mug of broth in a few gulps before sighing in contentment and laying back.

"We need to talk about what happened to you, Ed." Roy spoke up from where he sat on his own bed.

"Do we really, though?" Ed mumbled. "I got the information, we're going home- that's pretty much what matters."

"Colonel Banks tortured you, Ed. To try and get that information. I intend on filing an official complaint against him for the imprisonment and torture of a state alchemist. If I'm going to do that, I need details on what happened to you."

"I got back and wanted to catch a train to Central asap. Colonel Banks wasn't going to let me leave without giving him the information. That's pretty much all there is to it." Ed said simply.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Roy stood, opening it to find a doctor- a rather careworn man with thick-rimmed glasses a a black medical bag- standing outside.

"Good evening, Sir. I was told you were in need of my services?"

Roy nodded. "Thank you for coming. Come in..."

The doctor stepped inside the room, looking over to see Ed lying on the bed and nodding.

"Good evening, young man."

"Hello." Ed narrowed his eyes, looking at Mustang. "Who's this?"

"This is the local doctor. He's going to check you over- since you refuse to talk about what Banks did to you, someone needs to treat your injuries..."

"I'm fine." Ed protested.

"Then prove it. Let him look you over. Humor me here, Fullmetal."

Ed frowned.

"Let's start by taking off your shirt, if you don't mind." The doctor gave Ed a reassuring smile. He had a kind face, despite his obvious age- the man looked like he'd been in his profession for decades, and probably had several grandchildren. It was different than the sort of young, sterile lab coat clad upstarts Ed was used to in the hospital. Ed didn’t like to admit it, but the man seemed... nice. For a doctor.

Ed sighed, but obliged, unbuttoning his white shirt and shrugging it off, trying to hide his wince as he did so.

Roy hadn't been prepared for the mess of injuries beneath the boy's clothing.

Half a dozen perfect circular burns spotted the boy's left side. Ed's ribs and chest were a splattering of black and blue, violet bruises blossoming on his torso. There was a rather deep cut on the bicep of Ed's flesh arm, in addition to his black eye, swollen lip, and the cut that ran over his left eyebrow and ended just after it crossed the bridge of his nose.

As shocked as Roy was, the doctor took in the scene before him with practiced professionalism, nodding solemnly.

"I'll need to clean these wounds, young man." He pulled a jar and some gauze from his bag, quickly but carefully swabbing the cigarette burns with moist gauze, dabbing them dry, and smearing a salve onto them before he was taping a bandage over them with meticulous but gentle hands.

He moved onto the wound on Ed's arm- it was three inches long, and rather deep, and he frowned, cleaning away the blood. "This will need stitches, I'm afraid."

"I don't like needles." Ed said firmly.

The doctor nodded, withdrawing a vial from his bag. "That's perfectly understandable, son. I'm going to ask you to close your eyes- you'll feel a pinch and a burn, but only for a brief moment."

Once the doctor was sure Ed had closed his eyes, he withdrew a syringe from his bag, drawing up some of the drug in the vial and carefully injecting a small amount of either side of the cut.

Ed frowned, twitching at the sensation. "What are you doing?"

"Just preparing the wound, son." the doctor set the syringe aside, threading a needle with practiced ease and expertly beginning to suture the wound. Ed didn't flinch as the needle pierced his skin, completely unaware. Roy realized he'd numbed the boy well enough that Ed didn't even realized he was being stitched.

"You can open your eyes now, son." the doctor made sure to tuck his syringe, needle and thread back into his bag before giving the boy the instruction.

Ed opened his eyes, looking surprised to see the wound neatly sutured shut. Before he could examine it too closely, the doctor wrapped a bandage around it, nodding to Ed.

"Now that all the open wounds are taken care of, I'd like to feel your chest and abdomen- check for broken bones and such."

"Okay." Ed said, though he narrowed his eyes, looking at the doctors hands. "But if your hands are freezing I'm gonna bite you."

It was such a childish threat that Roy was stopped cold for a moment, but the doctor simply laughed. "Of course, I know- nothing less fun than cold hands and stethoscopes." he rubbed his hands together for half a minute to warm them, looking to Ed for permission. "May I, young man?"

Ed nodded, and the doctor carefully ran his hands over the boy's chest and ribs, starting at the top and working his way down. He moved with a gentle but practiced ease. Still, Ed tensed up, sucking in a breath, when the doctor came across a rather sore area. The doctor saw how Ed tensed up and stilled. "Sorry, lad. It must hurt a bit there, yeah?"

"I wasn't sure if they were bruised or broken." Ed admitted, voice barely above a whisper. The doctor nodded sympathetically, before he continued down the boy's abdomen, carefully feeling his stomach before concluding. "Mostly bruised, one broken." he confirmed. Ed gave a tired nod.

"Any other injuries that need attention?"

"His back."

Ed glowered at Roy, looking betrayed, but he gingerly elbowed his way onto his stomach anyways.

Ed's back was less serious, but still marred by 3 rather large cuts. The doctor cleaned and examined them all, before nodding. "I think the smaller two will heal nicely with just some bandages, but I'll have to suture the deepest one." the doctor nodded to the four inch cut that was rather deep.

"Just get it over with then." Ed groused. Once again, he didn't complain as the doctor skillfully numbed the wound before stitching it, daubing more salve on all the wounds before taping a gauze pad over them.

"Now then, let's see to your face."

Ed rolled onto his back, letting the doctor carefully clean the cut above his eye and dab at his smaller scratches before sitting back.

There was a knock at the door, and the doctor strode over to open it. The inn keeper stood in the doorway, a steaming cup of tea in hand. "Ah, Mrs. Berkley, just as I requested. Thank you."

He pulled a small brown bottle from his bag, putting a splash of whatever medicine was inside it into the steaming mug of tea and handing it to Ed.

"Drink up, son."

Ed took a long sip, snacking his lips and frowning, making an odd face. "Tastes weird."

The doctor laughed. "Yes, it should. It's normally a strong tea, but it tastes better than the medicine itself."

"What medicine?"

"Just something to ease any soreness you might have and help you get some rest. You should drink it all- help to relieve any pain. Especially your chest."

Ed nodded, taking another long sip and closing his eyes, appearing to relax some. By the time he was mostly through with a mug, his eyes had grown heavy, and before long, Ed was fast asleep.

The doctor smiled down at the sleeping boy, carefully plucking the mostly-empty mug from the boy's hands and setting it on the beside table.

The doctor moved to clean his glasses, nodding to Roy. "Any questions for me..." he paused, squinting at the bars on Mustang's uniform "Colonel?"

Roy nodded, looking up from Ed's sleeping form. "What did they do to him?"

"You saw the cigarette burns yourself. Several cuts from a rather sharp blade, and contusions on his chest- I assume the boy was kicked quite hard."

"Will he be alright?"

"With time, I don't see why he won't make a full recovery." the doctor conceded. "Though I don't exactly understand who would inflict such injuries upon a boy..."

"Colonel Banks, the ranking officer at Fort Goldenfield. I'll be filing an official complaint against him, there's no excuse for what he did to my subordinate." Roy's charcoal gaze flared, before he turned his serious gaze to the doctor. "Would you be willing to write a statement in regards to Ed's injuries?"

"Of course." the doctor nodded. He pulled a small amber bottle from his bag. It contained a few pills. "I've given him a dose of laundrum- he should rest well through the night. If he's uncomfortable in the morning, give him two of these every four hours."

Roy took the pills, nodding. "Thank you for helping him. What do I owe you?"

"No need to settle that now. I assume I can send the bill to your military office, as well as the statement regarding Edward's injuries, Mr...?"

"Mustang." Roy quickly stuck out his hand, and the doctor shook it. "Colonel Roy Mustang."

Roy grabbed a pen and paper and quickly wrote down the address for his office in Central, giving it to the doctor.

"Right. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mustang. I'll prepare the documents and mail them off first thing in the morning. I can stop in to see Edward tomorrow if you'd like, as well."

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't think we'll be in the area that long. We were planning on catching the first train to Central in the morning. If you think he's well enough to travel?"

"Ah, of course. I don't see any issue with him traveling. As I said, if he's uncomfortable give him those pills."

"Thank you doctor."

"Not a problem, not a problem. My number is on the medicine bottle, feel free to call if anything changes."

The doctor quietly left, leaving Roy in the inn room as night approached with a sleeping Edward.

Roy sighed, covering the sleeping blond with a blanket and locking the door to their room, stepping into the hallway to find a pay phone.

He had some calls to make.

Obligatory ko-fi button. Do you like papa Roy’s characterization here?

https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12

Little Shit (Jason Todd x Reader)

Request for anonymous: Funny #10 (“From the bottom of my heart... My bad.”) with Jason please! 

How suiting to our resident little shit. 

Word count: 1,200 words 

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish

You roll through the window and crash to the floor, not caring enough to break your fall. Jason follows, collapsing onto the floor next to you, breathing heavily. You groan, yanking your sweaty mask off your face and holding your throbbing side. Honestly, you hate running, but you can’t grapple to a rooftop with broken ribs. Hell, you can barely run with broken ribs, but here you are. At least you and Jason made it back to his safe house. 

As you prop yourself up on your elbows and look around the nicely furnished apartment, more questions than answers begin forming in your head. 

“Uh… Jay?” You nudge him. 

He groans, not bothering to pull his helmet off. 

“Are you sure this is your safe house?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jason asks as he sits up and pulls his helmet off. 

He proceeds to shake his very wet head like a dog, sending sweat flying everywhere. 

“Ew!” You protest, smacking his arm. “This seems a little too nice to be one of your places.” 

Jason gasps in mock offense, a hand on his chest. 

“Are you saying I have no taste?” 

“No, I’m--” You pause. “Actually, yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Your safe houses look like crack houses, this actually looks livable.” 

“Hey, not all of my safe houses look like crack houses,” Jason protests, getting to his feet and laying his helmet on the counter. “Besides, don’t let this place fool you, Roy has so many security systems set up, you can barely open the fridge without being electrocuted or something.” 

“So… This is Roy’s place?” You slowly get to your feet, leaning heavily against the island while Jason locates the cups. “I didn’t take him for the interior decorating type.” 

“He’s not,” Jason answers, sliding you a cup of ice water. “But Donna’s got a knack for it.” 

“Are he and Donna dating?” 

Jason shrugs with an eye roll. 

“Who knows with Roy. I’m going to go disable the security system.” 

You nod, then glance behind you at the open window. You should probably close that to keep any bugs or unwelcome guests from entering. As you shut the window, an important question crosses your mind: 

“Wait, Jay, do you even know how to disable the--” 

ZAP!

A heavy dose of electricity shocks your system, sending you crashing to the ground with a yelp. Jason sprints back into the room to find you laying on the floor on the verge of tears, holding your side. 

“Uh… Kind of?” He offers. 

You roll onto your back and flip him off, taking deep breaths. The pain slowly subsides while Jason rubs the back of his head. 

“So… The window security works?” He asks. 

You sit up, glaring at your boyfriend. 

“What do you fucking thinking?” 

“Oops.” 

You pull your boot off and chuck it at Jason’s head. He yelps and ducks behind the island before your boot can hit him.

“Hey!” He yells in protests. 

“Get fucked,” You tell him. 

Jason laughs but stands back up with a shrug. 

“Yeah, I guess I kind of deserve that after accidentally electrocuting you.” 

“You deserve way worse,” You grumble, getting to your feet then promptly collapse into one of the chairs at the island. “You didn’t even apologize.” 

“From the bottom of my heart,” Jason begins solemnly. “My bad.” 

You chuck your other boot at him. He dodges it again but kisses you on the cheek then ducks out of hitting range to finish disabling the security system. 

“Love you, babe!” He calls. 

“Sure you do, you little shit.” 

While Jason disables the rest of the security system (this time without shocking you), you bury your face in your arms, all your exhaustion hitting you. Your legs are sore and heavy. You barely have the energy to lift them to rest on the leg rest wrapped around the chair and your arms are aching. 

The cold marble cools down your sweating face and lolls you into an easy sleep. You barely realize how much time has passed until Jason is turning your chair and picking you up, bridal style. 

“Huh?” You jerk awake from your impromptu nap. 

“Come on, sleeping beauty, let’s get you clean.” 

He carries you into the bathroom where the shower is already running and sets you on the toilet. You peel your sweaty costume off while Jason strips nearby then you both step into the shower. For the first few minutes, you simply lean against Jason, enjoy the hot water running down your back. He tucks his head against your shoulder running his fingers up and down your back until you both finally break away to actually shower. 

Once you finish showering, you both change into something comfortable and crawl into bed, your back against Jason’s chest. 

“We should really go through and update some of your safe houses,” You murmur into a pillow. 

“What’s wrong with my safe houses?” Jason protests. 

“They look like crack houses!” 

“They’re not that bad!” 

“Yes, they are!” 

“Well, they have to blend in with the neighborhood!” 

“But isn’t it nice to sleep on a bed that actually feels like it was designed to be slept in?” 

“Not as nice as knowing that none of my windows will electrocute me.” 

“Technically, you electrocuted me.” 

Jason sputters behind you. 

“Technically my ass! It was the damn security in the window!” 

“The security that you set off.” 

“No, technically you set it off by closing the window, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, right because closing a window from the inside is what sets off a security system.” 

“When it’s designed by Roy Harper, absolutely.” 

You pause, your eyebrows furrowing. 

“...Wait, are you serious?” 

“Yes!” Jason exclaims. “That is an actual security measure he installed!” 

“Why?!��� 

“Fuck if I know, the dude keeps exploding arrows strapped to his back.” 

“Okay, but it’s not like those go off randomly in his quiver.” 

“You know, I think he’d appreciate them a whole hell of a lot more if they didn’t.” 

You pause to laugh and cover your face. 

“I think Roy needs help.” 

“You’re not the first one to think that.” 

You turn to look at Jason over your shoulder. 

“Should I worry about you more when you’re with the Outlaws?” 

“Nah,” Jason reassures you with a quick kiss. “That’s why we have Kori-- she balances out Roy and I’s tomfoolery.” 

“Remind me to get Kori a really nice Christmas present for putting up with both of your asses.” 

“Hey!” Jason protests. “I have to put up with Roy!” 

“But Kori has to put up with you and Roy.” 

“Wow, thanks, babe. Really feeling the love.” 

“Yeah, I was feeling it too when you electrocuted me earlier.” 

Jason sighs. 

“I thought we already covered this.” 

“My ribs beg to differ.” 

“You want me to kiss it better?” 

“Well, it definitely wouldn’t hurt.” 

You hear Jason chuckle then shift out from behind you so you’re laying flat on the bed. He slowly lifts your shirt then leans down and blows a wet raspberry on your stomach. You squawk indignantly and smack his head while Jason is cracking up, clearly very proud of himself. 

“Why the hell do I put up with you?!” You demand the ceiling. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure my whole family asked you that when we told them we were dating.” 

“I should’ve listened!” 

Jason grins and wraps an arm around your waist, kissing your cheek. 

“I’m glad you didn’t.” 

“I’m sure you are!” 

Jason laughs again and you shift so you’re laying against his chest. 

“Good night, doll,” He whispers to you. 

“Good night, you little shit,” You respond at a normal volume. 

Jason 100% would say tomfoolery. 

Feelings of Frisson

Newt (TMR) x OC

[part 2 of 2]

Frisson: a sudden strong feeling of excitement or fear

‘Winston you have to start taking better care of yourself.’ I insisted, wrapping his wounded forearm in a clean bandage.

‘Sorry, Florrie.’ He said, sheepishly, slightly wincing at the bandage.

‘This is the third time in the past 5 days I’ve had to bandage you up. Half of my bandages are being used on you. Honestly, it’s like you deliberately butcher yourself to come and see me. I joked.

‘Yeah…So where’s Newt?’ He asked.

‘Bedrest.’ I finished tying the bandage up and put a little bow at the end, Winston smiled. I grinned back at him, as I started tidying away my herbs and bandages.

Suddenly, Ada flew into the Med Hut, slamming the door open.

‘The box. It’s coming up.’ She gushed, breathily.

But it’s not due for another week?’ I questioned; my eyebrows arched.

‘We know.’ Ada replied.

Every Glader was sprinting over to the rising Box, Winston, Ada and I bolted out the door to join the crowd of confusion that was gathered round. I slid to the front of the crowd, desperate to get a good glimpse at whatever was happening.

Gally pulled the metal doors open. The box was bare, no supplies, no Greenie, nothing was in it. Except a single scrap of paper, that was crumpled up on the floor. Confused looks flew around the Gladers. The whole situation was suspicious. Gally jumped down into the Box, landing with a large clang as his boots hit the rusted metal frames, and picked up the flimsy paper. He uncrumpled it, a black marker had scrawled ‘Florence’ on one side. Underneath it was some smaller black scribbles.

Gally’s eyes roamed the paper for a second. He quickly folded up the note, and handed it to me. I leant down and grabbed it, still confused.

‘Everyone back to work.’ Gally ordered.

Protests came from the Gladers.

‘They can stay if they want. I’m sure it’s nothing bad.’ I hoped.

‘Trust me, you don’t want them here for that.’ Gally said darkly, herding the grumbling Gladers back to their jobs. ‘Go to the Med Hut, get some privacy, I’ll wake up Newt.’

Newt had dislocated his shoulder yesterday whilst helping the builders move some supplies. Clint and Jeff had help me pop it back into place and I told him to take a day of bedrest, he protested but eventually I got my way and he’d dragged himself off the hammocks and dozed off.

‘C’mon, he was hurt, he’s resting – do we really need to wake him?’ I argued, my mind now in a frenzy and panicking over what disastrous thing could be on the paper that had made Gally so deadly serious.

‘Yes.’ He said solemnly, taking off towards the hammocks.

Ada nodded at me reassuringly. I jogged over to the emptied Med Hut, clutching the note so tightly in my hand I felt my nails dig into my palms.

I sagged down onto one of the beds, in a state of terror of what the note could say. Trying to convince myself it couldn’t possibly be that dreadful, I took a deep breath before opening the crumpled paper.

‘Florence

This note is in regard to your pregnancy’

I turned the fragile note over, revealing a paragraph that had been hurriedly jotted down.

‘The Glade is unsafe for children. It would be inappropriate to raise one here. You and the other girl subjects in the Maze are forbidden from ever having offspring.

This pill will terminate your pregnancy. You have 60 minutes to consume the pill. This is a direct order. Failure to comply will result in the execution of Subject A5, known as Newt.

~ The Creators’

A small red pill was strapped to the bottom of the paper. I didn’t doubt it was an empty threat for a second, I don’t know how they’d kill Newt but if these people had the power to put us in here without any memories, they could slaughter him like a dog.

I didn’t realise I had been holding my breath, until my lungs begged for air. Letting out a loud gasp, I dissolved into the kind of despair that can take one's mind prisoner and never give it back. I sank down to my knees onto the hardened wooden floor. My chin trembled as if I was a small child. I breathed heavier than I ever had before. I was gasping for air that simply wasn’t there. My throat burned forming a silent scream. I released the most hysterical cries, the screaming sobs only interrupted by the need to draw breath. I cried as if my brain was being shredded from the inside. Emotional pain flowed out of me like a dam bursting. My mouth released a cry so raw, I felt dust fall from the support beams

Tears streamed down my face, they pooled into a small puddle of salty sadness below me, as my hands were placed on the wooden floor, the only thing keeping me from collapsing.

Barely able to breathe, I gripped the paper tightly, watching my tears soak the fragile note. This wasn’t fair. They can’t do this. I don’t have a choice.

My breath was as jagged as sharp rocks, but I knew what I needed to do.

I ripped the red pill off the paper, and discarded the paper, watching the pill lay in my palm. Panting, I whispered, ‘I’m sorry’. I snapped my eyes shut. I threw the pill into my mouth. I swallowed it.

Newt charged into the room; panic written all over his face. He saw me, sobbing like a child on the floor and quickly pulled me into a hug as he fell to his knees. He tried to soothe me, he stroked my hair gently and rubbed my back but my heart-wrenching screams wouldn’t cease.

‘Florrie, love, what’s wrong. What happened? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?’

Words failed me and I just continued sobbing into his chest, letting my heart bleed its pains. Newt picked up the discarded note, his eyes scouring the paper, horror consuming his face.

‘No.’ He gasped, in shock, tears welling in his eyes. I sat back from him; I saw the heartbreak on his face. He looked like a broken shell of a person.

‘Florrie, where’s the pill?’ He whispered, his voice fighting off a sob. ‘Where’s the pill?’ He repeated, his voice slightly firmer.

‘I’m s-sorry.’ I sobbed, my voice catching on my hysterical weeps.

Realisation dawned on his face, he looked like someone who had just had all the joy stripped from their life. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me into his body, cradling my head as my tears stained his shirt.

‘You didn’t have a choice.’ He reasoned, I knew he was pretending to put on brave face for me but inside he was breaking like a shard of glass.

For a while, we just stayed there, holding each other. Our hearts were beating next to one another, and I felt as if without Newt’s arms wrapped around me and keeping me grounded, I’d slip into a deep sleep and never wake. His care was like a life support machine, keeping me alive when I didn’t have the strength to. And after today, I didn’t know if I’d ever had the strength again.

These ‘Creators’ had taken so much from us, I was terrified of how much more they would take, because God knows I couldn’t lose anymore.

‘I’m so sorry, love. They can’t do this to us.’ A mix of grief and rage intertwined in his trembling voice. Newt’s mouth turned into a snarl and he radiated fury. But the anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for his life, lonely, desperate.

‘It’s not fair, Newt. It’s not. They took our child from us.’ I wept.

‘I know, love. But I promise, when we get out of here, we are going to make them pay.’ He said darkly, a growl in his voice.

A ball formed in the pit of my stomach, I recognised it as an old friend, my thirst for revenge. I changed that day, became bent on destroying the Creators, became a fighter. These people had taken everything from me, my memories, my family, they had tried to take Newt but I fought for him and I won.

They weren’t people, they were monsters. And I’d fight against every last one of them.

Ramdula’s Visitor

This the first short story upload I will be doing for all of the work I did for my senior show centering around my own stories and characters. If you would like to view the entire exhibition now, click this link! It includes a number of short stories, illustrations, and character bios for your viewing pleasure!

Read the story below the cut!

(content warning for themes of death, self harm, and suicide) A heavy feeling sunk deep into Beau’s bones that evening. She was sitting on the old woven chair outside of her home, wearing only a thin blouse and trousers. The air was warm, broken only so often by a cool breeze blowing across the meadow in which her home sat. What little light there was began to wane, and faint twinkles of stars began to peek their way into the sky as it darkened....

It was a beautiful night, but Beau was aware of none of it. Not the sky, not the breeze, and not the stars. 

Her eyes were glassy and seemed to stare at something non-existent. She had come outside to ground herself, to feel something beside the numbness that consumed her mind and body. instead she felt nothing. She sighed as she sat and stared out into the meadow, the only thing she could hear were the thoughts in her head. She was exhausted by her own mind. 

Why did something she couldn’t live without have to be so loud? 

It’s been so quiet in the house since Mara died, she thought. Mara had been her closest friend who lived in the house with her. Like so many times before, her mind flashed back to her death. They had been in the university lab cleaning up after class, chatting casually as they swept the floor and wiped down tables when a sudden large flash of light and a tremendous crash rang out. Beau fell flat on the ground under the force of the blast, suffering a few cuts and bruises, but when the smoke cleared and Beau came to, she was still alive and relatively unharmed. 

Mara was lying completely still, a single pipe running through her stomach. Dead.

Beau clutched her stomach instinctively as she remembered the sight. Apparently a student had failed to store a number of potions properly, and the resulting mix of chemicals and spells had been enough to cause an explosion. Thankfully no one else had been hurt. 

No one except Mara. 

Since then, Beau had dropped out of university. She didn’t wait to see how the school would bend over backwards to make it all okay, to pretend it never happened. She just wanted to go home. Except home was empty, and full of Mara’s things and memories of their life together. The life they should have had together. She held back tears as the wounds opened themselves anew and she felt rage within her at how unfair it all was. Why Mara? Why did her Mara have to be taken from her?

She had the sudden intense desire for numbness, for peace from her emotions. She couldn’t go back inside, nothing but hurt lay in there. 

She stared up at the meadow and her eyes landed on the forest that lay beyond it. She had never ventured into that forest herself, but people said that a reclusive spirit resided there, and Mara had always told her to be wary of it as the spirit could be malevolent. But Mara wasn’t here anymore, and whatever was in that forest might hurt her, hurt her enough that it would take all of the thoughts away, all of the pain. It would be quick, and she wouldn’t have to live in a home without Mara anymore. She wouldn’t have to live at all.

Before she could consider anything else she was running, the air growing colder as she neared the forest, the biting chill barely registering as she ascended the hill toward the trees. As Beau reached the treeline, breathing heavily from the run, she stared up at the massive pines, and before she could bear to give it a second thought, she ran straight into the trees.

Beau ran frantically through the forest making a tremendous amount of noise, breaking twigs and cracking dry leaves. Eventually she found herself making her way down a hill, its steep incline covered in wet moss and slippery stone. The slope caught her by surprise, causing her to fall onto her hands and knees. She yelled out in pain as she hit the forest floor, her skin stinging from the rough ground. She bit back tears as she held up her shaking hands, now covered in small cuts and debris. Before she could try and stand up she heard the footsteps of something large and heavy approaching. She turned to see a huge black dog. It was ginormous, easily meeting her eyes as she kneeled. Its long silky fur and pointed ears almost making it look like a grounded bat. Beau screamed and held up her hands in front of her, her body turning numb as fear washed over her. The dog stood still, and as she let her gaze wander from its piercing stare she noticed a great number of dogs behind it, standing just as still as their leader.

Beau broke the silence “KILL ME THEN!!” she screamed, waiting for it to attack. The dog simply stared back at her and tilted it’s head, as though it was trying to understand her. “DO IT!” she shrieked, almost pleading for the stupid beast to do something. “Go on! KILL ME!”

The dog walked closer to her and opened its mouth, its teeth white and menacing in the evening light. She flinched, waiting for the pain of the bite to come, but instead it grabbed onto her blouse. Beau put her hands down, confused, as the dog gently pulled on her shirt. A moment later she felt the other dogs behind her prodding her back, pushing her forward as the lead dog continued to tug on her shirt. She shakily got herself to her feet and began walking as the dogs continued to pull her, shuffling noisily as they guided her farther into the woods. 

Where are they taking me?

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As the sky darkened and the air chilled, Matthias stirred. He raised his head among the sea of black fur of his packmates and pricked his ears up at the sound of his master stirring in the floors above him. He jumped up and yipped at his pack to get up. The dogs all sleepily got to their feet, noisily ascending the stairs from the basement toward the castle throne room. They met her in the hall at the top of the stairs, Matthias running to his master’s side as she walked the boisterous pack down the hall. He kept pace with her as he stared up at her face. She was somber, as usual. Matthias tried to picture with difficulty the last time she looked truly happy. She made a noise and motioned toward the front of the castle. Matthias knew this to mean she wanted him to patrol the grounds. He barked and led his pack out of the castle, across the drawbridge and into the dark forest. 

As they reached the edges of the territory Matthias pushed his snout to the ground, forcing a myriad of smells into his nostrils. Images of running deer, rabbits, squirrels, and songbirds all flashed in his mind as he patrolled the outer edges of the grounds. His large black paws produced deep impressions in the soft soil as he padded along, the rest of his pack following close behind. They kept their ears pricked and tails held high, ready to alert their master of any intruders. The forest air was cool and quiet, the crisp air felt good on his thick coat, energizing him as he led his pack around the forest’s perimeter.

The silence suddenly broke as a twig cracked in the distance and the sound of something making its way into the forest shot through Matthias’s ears. Crackling underbrush, heavy breathing, and panicked footsteps tip-toed their way into his mind as he located the figure. He signaled for his pack to remain quiet. Together they walked low to the ground toward the mysterious visitor. As they approached he could see them more clearly. They were a small creature, running on two legs and heading toward the castle. He titled his head, observing them struggle and stumble through the dense underwood of the forest. They didn’t seem to know where they were going, and they certainly didn’t seem dangerous. Suddenly the creature tripped and let out a yelp as they fell forward. Matthias ran to the noise, closely followed by his fellow dogs toward the fallen figure. As he neared them he slowed his pace and approached them carefully, unsure of what to do until they turned suddenly and faced him, letting out another yell. He held still, taking in everything he could see of the figure in front of him. They appeared frightened, eyes wide and fearful as they held their hands in front of their face, ready to defend themselves. This was not a dangerous intruder, he concluded. 

The creature suddenly let out a sound, a garbled noise he found hard to understand. They were not speaking an animal language. He stood up straight and tilted his head, trying to at least make out a command or a familiar word. The figure repeated themselves, louder and more desperately this time, and he almost winced at the intensity of their cry. The noises were similar to his master’s, and he wondered if she could possibly understand the visitor. 

He walked forward slowly and opened his jaws, the figure flinching as they expected to be bitten. He instead clasped the cloth that decorated them and pulled them forward. His pack realized what he was doing and did the same, some gently pushing on her back encouraging them to move forward while the others began to bark and yip as they walked ahead. The figure stood up shakily, and with the dog’s gentle motivation they made their way to the castle. The creature was slow, and shook as they walked, but with a good bit of gentle pushing and encouragement Matthias was soon able to see the silhouette of the castle peeking over the trees. He ran ahead and let out a deep, haunting howl. As he did, a heavy clanking rang out into the night as a drawbridge lowered itself over a wide moat surrounding the building. He turned and called back to his pack, who excitedly pulled the visitor into the castle, anticipating meeting their master.

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Ramdula walked solemnly through the halls of her castle, tightly gripping the hilt of her sword as her large group of black dogs padded happily behind her. She entered the throne room and sighed deeply. She was barely awake and it was only early evening. 

“Matthias,” she called to her lead dog, pointing to the front of the castle. “Begin your nightly patrols. I am heading to the library.” The dogs perked up at the command and headed to the castle gate, barking excitedly as they thundered across the drawbridge into the trees. 

Ramdula watched them go and drew the drawbridge up again with a wave of her hand, heading toward the other end of the room and through a large archway. After making her way down a dark spiral staircase she entered the library, a huge, airy, and circular room residing in the underground beneath the castle. The air was cold and dry as she scanned the dark wooden shelves, flickering fireflies illuminating Ramdula’s path down the corridors, flittering soundlessly around her head. The library was like a maze only she knew how to navigate, the endless twisting rows filled to the brim with books, journals, and manuscripts. Sitting in between these shelves were old items of previous residents. Armor of fallen enemies, weapons, garments, and treasures of old all passed her as she looked for something interesting. After 345 years of life, she had just about read everything the library had to offer twice over, and she was immensely bored. With a glazed expression she scanned the shelves she had stared at for centuries, looking for something, anything, that she might have missed, forgotten, or looked over. 

Nothing. 

Everything was familiar. Everything was uninteresting. 

With a heavy sigh she reached for a sizable book with a soft red velvet cover, now faded and worn at the edges. It was a book of local folklore and myths, the stories it told holding a special place in Ramdula’s heart. They were her favorite in her younger years. She flipped through the yellowed pages, recalling every word as they flashed passed her eyes. She tucked the book under her arm, ready to take it somewhere comfortable to read when she heard a howl. It was Matthias wanting to come back in. It didn’t sound like an alarm, perhaps he was looking for something to eat before patrolling. Ramdula rolled her eyes and focused her magic on lowering the drawbridge, walking toward the spiral staircase as she did so in order to climb her way back to the throne room. 

As she walked down the hallway and turned the corner around the stone arch, she met a sight she never would have expected, not even if she had lived to be a million years old. A young, teary-eyed, bedraggled looking girl was standing in the middle of her throne room, staring at her like she was on trial for murder. She stood absolutely still for a moment and then looked down at Matthias, who had walked up to her and sat down at her feet, tongue hanging out of his smiling mouth. 

“Matthias, dear, what exactly have you dragged into my home?” she sighed, motioning toward the visitor. The black hound simply stared back at her, shifting his feet in excitement. Ramdula sighed again, and peered into his mind to see what happened. Within it she saw him patrolling, the figure running into the forest, their fear, and Matthias desire for understanding. 

“Hm.” she said, unamused, and turned to the girl, who went rigid under her gaze.

“Hello…little...person,” she began. “You have mistakenly wandered into my home, I presume, and have been escorted by my familiars who for some reason think,” she glared down at a perfectly unaware Matthias, tongue still lolling from his mouth, “I will have something to say to you besides ‘please leave.’ I am not sure why they have brought you here but you need not stay. Head along home now, no harm done, just…” she waved her hands in a shooing motion at the girl, “get along. Matthias can show you out.” 

Ramdula waited for a response, expecting the visitor to appear relieved at her dismissal, but to her unfortunate surprise the girl looked even more upset than before. 

“W-what?” she stammered, eyes going wide with shock. “That’s it? you’re not going to kill me?” She began to sniffle, tears began pouring down her face. 

“Oh, I feel so stupid, why did I even come here?” The dogs crowded around her and began to whine, licking the tears off of her face as she sunk to her knees. 

“I’m s...so sorry I don’t  know why I came here,” she cried. “I guess I’ll go now, and go…h-h… ho...” A fresh new flood of tears burst from her eyes as she tried to finish her sentence instead crouching forward and covering her face. 

Ramdula stood still, looking especially uncomfortable in the presence of this sobbing creature. She gripped the hilt of her sword in her palm and rubbed it nervously as she pondered how she could rid herself of this small, distressed child without making them even more upset. She had already asked them politely to leave, she was not sure what else she could do about this. She had a sudden intense desire to be back in the library. 

“Child, look. Listen please. I am not going to kill you unless you give me a reason to, which you have not done thus far so, um…please don’t cry, you may go back home unharmed,” Ramdula said, stepping a little closer. The girl looked up at her, her eyes swollen and red, she looked quite a mess. 

“Well if you’re not going to kill me then I am not sure why I am here. I’m not sure what I’m doing at all,” the girl admitted. Ramdula’s expression went from uncomfortable to confused, her brows furrowing as she tried to understand.

“You came here..to be killed?” she asked the girl, brows furrowed. “By me?” 

The girl nodded, and Ramdula tried to think of what in Lun’s name she could be talking about. That was it. She needed this incomprehensible little creature to give her a straight answer this very second. 

“Matthias, go fetch the crackers and tea from the basement.” Matthias scampered away as she looked at the rest of the pack. “You, blankets. You, a kettle. And you, cups. We are going to be here a while.” The girl uncovered her face and looked around as the dogs dispersed, scattering down the hallways and descending stairs in search of the items they had been assigned. 

“Child, it seems you have a story you need to tell, and you are going to be a right mess until you get it out. So first,” Ramdula said, crossing her long legs as she sat on the floor, “tell me your name.” 

The girl wiped her eyes and tried her best to sit up straight. “Beau, Beau Conway” she said quietly.

“Lovely to meet you, Beau Conway. My name is Ramdula, and this is my castle.”

Before long, the dogs all returned with their items (coated in copious amounts of drool), and they had set up quite the cozy atmosphere in the throne room with blankets, hot tea, and crackers. Ramdula conjured a magical fire in between them, and the warmth of the flames breathed new life into the throne room. With a cup of hot tea and several large dogs lying on her lap, Beau explained everything. She told Ramdula about Mara, how she died, and how everything had been tainted by her memory: her home, her school, and even her own mind. She couldn’t escape all of the pain and feelings that surrounded her. She had just wanted it all to stop. The thoughts... the hurt… the memories… she had just wanted to feel numb. 

“A-and I saw your forest, and remembered what Mara said, that there might be a malevolent spirit inside, that might hurt me,” she said quietly, “so I ran inside hoping something would end me before I gave it too much thought,” she sobbed, her eyes welling up with tears. “A-and you haven’t hurt me, you’ve been so nice, I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have come here and bothered you so much. I’ve just been stupid, I-I’m sorry” she started crying again, and buried her face in her hands. Ramdula looked at her, having remained quiet the entire time Beau had shared her story, and twirled her tea spoon in her cup as she spoke.

“Sometimes, we cannot control where our lives take us. I do not blame you for coming here,” she said, setting her cup on the ground carefully. “However, if you truly are seeking death, then I am sorry. That is something I cannot grant you,” Ramdula said solemnly. She stood up and stretched her huge wings out to their full length before folding them back into their resting position. 

“I cannot claim to know exactly what to tell you, Beau Conway. But I can say if your home is a source of pain for you, you may stay here for the night, and decide if you would like to return in the morning.” 

Beau lowered her head, still sniffling. 

“Thank you,” she said.

“For everything.”

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Beau was led by Ramdula to a spare room, a journey that took them down a myriad of twisting stone hallways. “The dogs can stay with you while I perform my duties for the night.” She looked down at Matthias, a slight smile on her lips as she looked down at him. “You have the night off, lucky dog.” 

She bid them all goodnight and disappeared down the hall, heading somewhere unknown. Beau entered the room and saw that it was a plainly decorated stone study with a large bed at the far wall. She crawled under the covers, still a little dazed from that evening's events. As she got herself comfortable, the dogs climbed onto the bed with her and curled up on every inch of the blankets that she didn’t occupy. She started to doze to the sounds of the dog's heavy breathing. Her thoughts unoccupied by grief as she drifted peacefully into a deep slumber.

Before Beau knew it, morning had come, and she awoke in the same place she had fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream, she realized. She sat up, rousing the dogs that were sleeping on the bed with her and rubbed her eyes as she made her way to the door. The dogs, now fully awake, all crowded around her, waiting patiently for the door to be opened. She turned the knob and was nearly pushed out into the hallway by the rush of excitement of the hounds as they ran down the long hall. Matthias stayed behind, nudging her gently in the right direction, and when they reached the throne room Ramdula was nowhere to be found. Matthias put his nose to the floor and barked at Beau to follow him, leading her past the archway down into a spiral staircase.

The dogs thundered down the stairs into the dark underground, Beau following them closely behind. As she reached the bottom the narrow corridor opened into a huge circular room filled with endless rows of shelves, and she found she had come into a huge library. Right in front of her in a massive armchair sat Ramdula, reading a large red book with worn edges. 

“Ah,” she said, closing the book and setting it aside, “you are awake.” She stood up to her full height, and for the first time since meeting her Beau realized how tall the spirit was, towering above her by at least several feet. “How was your sleep?” Ramdula asked, leaning down slightly to meet her eye.

“Good!” Beau replied, she reflected momentarily at how well rested she felt, her mind was the clearest it had been in months. “Really good, actually, best I’ve had in awhile. Thank you again for being so kind,” she said gazing into the spirit’s eyes.

“Do not dwell on it, it was nothing at all,” Ramdula replied. She turned around, picking up the red book again. “Do you like to read?” she asked.

“Very much so,” said Beau, admiring the books as she did.  “This library is stunning.” 

“Yes, it is quite a sight for someone who is unfamiliar with its contents isn’t it?” Ramdula said, sighing deeply. “Unfortunately, I have read every word contained within these walls, so I cannot say I share the same awe you feel now.” She held out the book she grasped in her hand to Beau, allowing her to admire it. “This one I don’t seem to tire of easily. It is a collection of stories you might find enjoyable. I definitely did as a young pup.” 

Beau held out her hands and grasped the book tenderly, almost afraid it would turn to dust in her hands. “Wow, thank you,” she murmured, enchanted by the book's intricate gold leaf cover. As she stared at it, an idea crept into her mind “Would you like more? Books that is. I have some at home.” 

Ramdula perked her ears up, sporting an unfamiliar expression of child-like excitement. “More books you say? Now that sounds interesting.” 

Beau grew more enthusiastic, happy she had piqued the spirit’s interest. ”Yes they are! And I would like to thank you for what you have done for me. I can bring some by tonight, would you want that?” 

Ramdula paused, considering the offer. “I would, actually,” she said contemplatively. “I am not very good around regular humans and the like, so I haven't added any new books to the library in centuries. It’s a shame, since it is a tradition of my ancestors to build the knowledge this place holds.” She stared out into rows of shelves before turning back suddenly. “You said you slept exceptionally well last night?” she asked, peering at Beau before continuing. “Let’s say you wanted to sleep here for the foreseeable future. When you did, I wouldn’t mind you bringing me a book in exchange for a night’s rest in the castle...hm?” 

Beau’s eyes widened as the proposition sunk in. “You wouldn’t mind?” 

Ramdula shook her head. “On the contrary, Beau Conway, you would be doing me a favor in exchange for small effort on my part. I would be delighted if you accepted.” 

Beau’s eyes shone with happiness at the idea, a wide smile breaking out across her face. “Yes, YES! I can definitely do that. I will be back tonight with all the books I can carry! Thank you THANK YOU!” she cried. Beau ran back up the stairs, book in hand and ready to head home, this time not dreading what she would see inside.

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Ramdula watched her go chuckling as she disappeared up the stairs. What a peculiar person she was. She had an inkling that the most interesting thing Beau would bring back tonight was herself. She had to admit she didn’t just want the books, though they were quite tempting. She had actually enjoyed talking to someone besides the dogs for once, and to her surprise, looked forward to having company over for dinner.

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Matthias listened to the visitors footsteps slowly fade away up the staircase. He was happy to see they weren’t afraid anymore. He stared up at his master’s face, and for the first time in a long time, he saw content in her eyes. 

Bray Road part 5 - Mulder x nonbinary!reader

Uhhh classes started today for my final semester so let’s do some stuff between classes shall we?

- 

(Y/N) made there way through the ground floor of the hospital and to the information desk. They showed the desk assistant their badge and ask for directions to Jason Mulligan’s room. They made their way to the elevators after. Jason was in the ICU, which was strange since Mulder said he seemed to be fine when he saw him last. But things change, like this kid’s blood type apparently. The next theory that came to their head disturbed them more than anything. If Winterfield was really a werewolf and Jason had DEA in his blood, did that mean Winterfield was trying to make more? And worse...No... (Y/N) had had their blood work done since all those years ago and they had never found DEA. They made a mental note to speak with Jason’s mother, maybe he had the same experiences that they had: sleepwalking, trouble sleeping. Now they they really thought about it... they were only sleeping walking on the full moon. 

The elevator’s bell chimed as it stopped on the fourth floor. They stepped off the elevator and saw a typical floor for a hospital, nurses at the nurses station, even a few going from room to room. Or, they were really more like spaces that were closed off with a sheet. Jason was down the hall, second room on the left. As (Y/N) walked that had an odd feeling in their chest. Maybe it was just because they just learned their pediatrician is a werewolf. But the feeling only grew deeper as they walked closer. Once there, everything seemed oddly quiet. 

They knocked on the wall next to the entrance, “Mrs. Mulligan?” They pulled back the sheet, “My name is-”

Blood. Lots of blood. Mrs. Mulligan’s corpse was laying across the bed... her head was else where. There was no sign of Jason. (Y/N)’s breathing became shaky as they backed out and slowly closed the sheet. They hadn’t seen anything strange when they walked through the floor, meaning... this murder was calculated. They made their way back to the nurses station and stood there while the nurse finished her phone call. She was a petite woman, probably no older than they were. The nametag on her shirt said April 

“Yes, how can I help you?” She smiled. 

“I want you to put call security to put the hospital on lockdown, Jason Mulligan’s mother is dead and Jason is missing. He is to be considered extremely dangerous and treated with caution. We need to evacuate this floor. Now.” As they spoke, the nurse’s face grew paler and paler. With shaking hands, she grabbed at the telephone and called security. While the line was ringing, she told a nurse walking by to put evacuation procedures in place to which that aid also scurried off. From the right, (Y/N) heard a click. They looked down and saw a small boy with a disposable camera. 

(Y/N) smiled as not to alarm him, “Hello. That’s a nice camera.” They bent down to meet the child eye to eye. 

“Thanks.” He smiled, “My mommy got it for me. I like taking pictures.” He smiled. From the scaring on his face and the bandages, it was clear he had been severely burned and was starting to heal. 

“That’s nice. Where is your mommy?” 

“She went to the bathroom after the big dog.” They froze. 

“What big dog?” He pointed his little bandaged finger over (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

“That one.” He smiled, bringing the camera up to his face and taking a picture. (Y/N) slowly stood up, looking slightly over their shoulder and saw it. It was massive, standing at five feet tall on all fours. Its fur was a dark color and it looked wet, soaked in... the blood that was still dripping from its fangs and claws. It’s eyes were jet black. There was steam coming from its body. Before the eyes of the agent, the child, and the speechless nurse at the station, it began to stand on its hind legs. Its shoulders rose and fell with the creatures deep breathing. 

“Did you call security?” They whispered to the nurse. She nodded slowly, still holding to phone to their ear. 

“Good. Don’t move. Don’t scream.” The nurse nodded again, her lips trembling. (Y/N) reached down, stilling keeping an eye on the creature and took the little boy into their arms, he snapped another picture of the creature in the process. 

“Remain calm.” They whispered. And that seemed to work until a scream from behind the creature  that came in the form of a patient. The creature turned and roared, swiping at the patient with its massive claws, knocking the patient into a wall and killing him. 

“RUN!” (Y/N) called holding onto the boy and sprinting away, the creature hot on their trail. The little boy held on tightly, wrapping his arms around their neck. 

“It’s coming closer!” He cried. (Y/N) could hear from the increasing volume of the footsteps that it was true. Holding the boy with one arm, (Y/N) pulled down a large filing shelf as they ran by, hoping it would slow it down. The creature only roared in response. Ahead of the two was the elevator that was thankfully opening. (Y/N) ran inside, pressing the door close button frantically. 

“It’s coming! It’s coming!” The screamed, tugging on their shirt. 

“Come on, come on!” They said through their teeth, pushing frantically. The door finally closed, the creature slamming itself into them, denting the doors slightly. They took a deep breath of relief, leaning against the back wall of the elevator. 

“Okay.” They sighed, looking down at little boy in their arms. His face was red and wet from tears, “It’s okay, he didn’t get in.” Then, continuing their unfortunate bad luck, there were screeching noises coming from above them followed by a thud that shook the elevator. Spoke too soon. They were stopped on the second floor. So close to the first. 

(Y/N) they set the boy down, taking him gently by the shoulders, “When the doors open, I need you to run. Run faster than you ever have before.” 

“Okay.” He sniffled, gripping tightly onto his camera, “What about you?” There was another thump on the car ceiling. 

“I’ll be okay.” (Y/N) smiled, but the smile didn’t reach their eyes. They reached out and hit the open doors button, the doors opened and the little boy took off. As soon as the doors closed again, the creature’s hand broke through the ceiling. They shouted, crouching down to the floor to avoid the swinging claws. They grabbed their pistol from its holster on their hip, aiming and shooting up. The creature wailed it was hit but it didn’t relent. They shot again but this time, they heard a snap from the cable holding the car. As (Y/N) fell, the ceiling of the car caved in and they fell into darkness. 

- 

Mulder and the sheriff rushed into the main building as the elevator collapsed. The nurses and doctors were rushing patients outside from the main floor and the stairwells. 

“What’s going on?” Mulder called to a nurse evacuating a patient. 

“We’re evacuating, there’s a monster!” The mousy nurse called back, rushing a patient and their oxygen tank outside. The sheriff held a large weapon, a rifle by the looks of it. They both walked with caution towards the smoke coming from the elevator area. When the smoke cleared, they saw it. Both men stopped to stare. It was massive, at least seven feet tall. It was drenched in blood and covered in drywall rubble. It was dragging something behind it as it walked, and that something turned out to be Mulder’s partner. They seemed to be passed out, being dragged by their ankle.

“HEY!” Mulder called, aiming his pistol. The creature turned to look at them and roared. It had the features of a wolf: long snout, pointed ears, and large fangs. 

The sheriff took aim and fired, the shot to the chest did practically nothing. Mulder and the sheriff continued shooting but the creature only came closer, having dropped (Y/N). As it came closer, their bullets ran out and they were backed against a wall. The creature roared and went to descend on the two. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the swipe of claws. But instead, he opened his eyes and saw a bloody silver pole sticking from the creatures chest. The creature fell to the side, revealing the same mousy looking nurse from before. There was blood splattered across her face and her breathing was hard. In her hand she held the wheels that had come from the tray she had used to stab the beast. 

“Damn April.” The Sheriff said as he regained his breath. She only waved lazily in response. 

Mulder got up and quickly went to his partner who was slowly coming to. 

“Ow.” (Y/L/N) groaned. Mulder helped them into a sitting position. 

“Where’s the thing?” They grunted. Mulder looked back, then at (Y/N). 

“I think you mean Jason.” He said solemnly. Before btoh the agent’s very eyes, the large creature had slowly morphed and shifted back into a bloody and naked Jason Mulligan. 

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Read Part 6 here!

I’m getting back into the grove! I’m very excited to finish up this series and I’m glad it’s getting some love. 

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