#Fire proof safe box

[kmhonco]

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[localplaguenurse]

What Could Go Wrong?

Mothman Dottore X Fem Reader Smut (Kinktober Week 3)

Give it up for week three! FINALLY I write Dottore smut after two years jfc. Harpyttore was very tempting, but part of the challenge is that I can’t write anything I’ve already read in another fic. So Mothman.

WARNINGS: Moths, inaccurate/inappropriate use of moth facts, scent kink (?), mating/in heat, I think this one is actually pretty chill compared to the last two, more silly I think

Minors DNI

“I know you’re smarter than this,” you hear your lab partner and best friend remark, “you have to know this is stupid, right?”

You finish loading your film into the kamera and delicately put the spare film back in your bag with your notebook, your pencil case, lamp, fire starting kit, jasmine oil, jar of honey, and a vile wrapped up in cloth and secured in a wooden box. There are other supplies in the bag, but these are absolutely essential for your task tonight. The little box is especially important.

“You can’t honestly believe there is a man sized moth living in the forest,” they continue as you take inventory of your gear. 

“I’m skeptical too,” you say, “but can I call myself a lepidopterist if I pass this up? Or even just an entomologist?”

“You even admit it’s bullshit!” “Hey, I said I was skeptical, but not why,” you state. “Do I believe in a man sized moth? No. Do I believe there is a large species of moth living deep in the Dharma Forest that has yet to be properly discovered and identified? That’s more likely.”

“Even then, the driyoshes who came screaming about seeing the moth admitted later that it was probably just a large bird of sorts.”

You close your bag up. “You can just say you’re not coming with me,” you tell them, “you can just say you don’t believe it and don’t want to come, but you don’t have to talk to me like I’m dumb.”

“I just don’t want you getting eaten by tigers while you’re out there.” “I know which paths to avoid, and I’m pretty sure the driyoshes were on one of the safer ones.”

Your friend shakes their head in defeat. “I can’t convince you otherwise, can I?” “Nope.”

They pinch the bridge of their nose. “Just… explain the thought process behind what you’re bringing.”

You smile. “Okay, so the kamera, the notebook and my camping supplies are self explanatory. I’m camping out there for the next few days, and I need actual proof this thing exists.”

“Okay.”

“The lamp is for navigating in the dark, and the fire kit is for camping out in the forest,” you continue, “but they also double as sources of light and heat, which can attract moths.”

They nod along.

“Jasmines are a commonly liked flower among moths,” you say, “so I figured the smell of jasmine oil would attract them. Honey is a food source.”

“And your source for that?”

“Adult moths primarily consume nectar or sugary substances if they have mouths,” you state, “especially the death’s-head hawkmoth. They actually create a squeaking noise similar to queen bees that allow them to sneak into hives and eat their honey. Not that I think this is a death’s-head, but it can’t hurt.”

“And that little box you snagged from the Amurta labs?”

“You make it sound like I stole it,” you say. “I have permission to use it.”

“Well, what is it?”

“...” You sigh. “As a last resort… I’m packing a vial of distilled moth pheromones.”

At this, your partner’s eyes widen and they bury their face in their hands, embarrassed for you. “Like mating pheromones?”

“Yes, like mating pheromones.”

“Okay, cool, interesting,” they say, “very important question though; what the fuck are you going to do if a horny, man sized moth swarms you thinking you’re a potential mate?”

“That… is a bridge I will cross when I get there.”

“Are you going to–”

“I’m not going to have sex with the giant moth,” you quickly interrupt, “I don’t even know how that could happen.”

“It’s a man sized moth, anything is possible.”

“I’m not that dedicated to my research,” you state, face burning. 

“Whatever, just… be safe, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll only be three days,” you tell them, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You heave as you lift your bag up, and offer your partner a smile.

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

—

You’re thankful the moths seem more interested in your light and the honey you set out, but the stray little males still flutter up to you as you eat. You gently swat the fortieth one away, and two more come looking for the fertile female they’re smelling. You swat them away as well, ad infinitum.

At some point in your trip to your designated camping spot, the vial of moth pheromones had broken and leaked out of the box you kept it in, seeping into your clothes. The vial wasn’t that large, but by the great wisdom given to the researchers who made it, was it ever potent. It’s so potent, in fact, that there are several different breeds of moth trying to mate with the clothes you hung up to dry. You were hoping and praying the rain that suddenly came down last night would have helped wash away some of the smell, but no matter how much water you wrung from them, the pheromones are still noticeable to every moth in the vicinity. 

Your pajamas weren’t too affected and dried quickly, but clearly they still smell if the moths are still trying to get your attention. You’d wear the clothes from yesterday, but they’re just dirty in general and not ideal for sleep. It’s not like you’re getting much sleep, though. The flapping of hundreds of moths is getting annoying. On the bright side, at least you have something interesting to tell your partner when you get back to the Akademiya.

You finish up your little meal and begin tidying up. You pack away your dirty dishes while moths continue to harass you. Yeah, this was probably a really dumb idea, trying to hunt down a big ass moth. You’ll pack up and head back home tomorrow morning, still being swarmed by moths.

You manage to shoo the moths out of your tent before you secure the flap. You sigh and crawl into your sleeping bag. You shut your eyes, listening to the fluttering wings and little chirps.

Wait, chirps? Moths don’t squeak unless they’re trying to throw off predators like bats, or they’re trying to steal honey from bees undetected. As you sit up, you can hear the squeaking is getting louder, and the flapping of little wings is growing faster, more frantic.

You hesitantly peak out of your tent to see swarms squealing and screeching as they begin to escape into the night sky. Astonished, you step outside and look up. There are so many they nearly blot out the light of the moon, still squeaking in absolute terror. Your blood runs cold. It makes sense that once one moth lets out the alarm of a predator, others would follow, but with this many moths still drowning in the pheromones staining your clothes? This many moths in general?

You get your answer when a massive, solid shape blocks out the moon, and like a divine plague, the moths go into a desperate and swarming frenzy, pelting into your body and your face as they frantically make their escape. You drop to the ground and cover your eyes and mouth as the storm rages. You can only imagine how this looks from the outside. You wonder how far the eclipse of frightened bugs can be seen.

You lift your head up when the flaps quiet down, and the squeaks grow distant, and you’re no longer being violently bumped into. You look up to see clouds of moths literally eclipsing the moon and disappearing among the stars in the sky. You stand, looking around your campsite, at the surrounding treeline. Something is horribly wrong, what was that big thing in the sky? You only saw it briefly, but it was much larger than any man. There’s no way, it can’t be–

You snap around when you hear rustling in the shrubbery behind you. You swear you see something move in the shadows but it disappears too quickly to get a grasp on it. You try to recall the story of the monster the driyoshes told. It was a large, shadowy winged beast, and the only other thing they saw before they bolted were a pair of big, red eyes.

You dive for your pack, pulling everything out until your fingers make contact with the kamera. You yank it out and stand, eyes darting around at every little noise and movement. Then it’s quiet, and it stays quiet. You look up at the sky, and you can’t see the moths anymore.

A twig snaps behind you. You whip around and hit the button on the kamera. The flash blinds the red eyed creature, and it snarls and covers its face with a black arm. You scream and stumble back, falling on your ass and attempting to scramble away. 

It’s not a man sized moth, it’s a moth man.

He stands tall, black wings with pale blue patterns along the edge flying open in defence. Black fluff covers his shoulders and chest, and though his arms and legs, clawed and covered in fine little hairs, are black, his torso is primarily pale flesh coloured, as is his face. His scowling face is surprising human, save for the pointed teeth and large, glowing red eyes. His hair is pale blue, like the patterns on his wings, and the feathery antennae sprouting from the top are black.

You get a much better look at his features when he descends upon you, pinning you beneath his barely humanoid form, claws grasping at your wrists and holding them down to the ground. You feel shivers run up your spine as he stares at you, antennae twitching. He tilts his head, and leans in closer to your face. You close your eyes tight and turn your face away, scared he’s going to bite your face off.

You’re surprised when instead, he curls his body so he can rest his head on your chest, His antennae brush against your neck, and begin shivering. You squirm at the ticklish feeling. Then his wings begin to shake, and he lets out a deep groan as the rest of his body shudders. He lifts his head, lips pulled into a large grin that borders on predatory as he just stares.

“Oh… how lovely,” he purrs, “I can’t recall the last time I had the chance to mate.”

Your eyes widen, skipping over the fact this man-thing speaks common and jumping right to the meaning behind his words. “What?!”

He chuckles. “Your scent,” he clarifies, “it’s strong enough that it has brought almost every mature male moth to your location, myself included. But I know that’s not your natural scent, is it?”

You nervously shake your head.

“Of course not, you’re human,” he says. “And you’re one of those Akademiya students. That’s how you acquired those pheromones, no?”

“Y… Yes.”

“And you know what they do, don’t you?”

“I-I’m a lepidopterist,” you tell him, “I p-primarily study moths. I know what the pheromones do.”

Blood rushes to your face when the monster nuzzles his cheek against yours. His breath fans over your ear, and you question the flutter in your stomach when you hear the rasp in his voice.

“Then I have to wonder what your intentions were…”

You recall your roommate asking what you’re going to do if you encounter a giant horny moth, and you stating you would not fuck the giant moth. Well… he’s not really a full moth, is he? He’s pretty humanoid, oddly handsome at that, too, and is a self aware being. He’s into you, so… fuck it, why not. It’s not like you promised you wouldn’t have sex with a moth person, just no giant moths.

“I-It was intended as a last resort to see if you were real,” you say, “but accidents happen. Might as well m-make the most of it, haha…”

The moth just laughs. He lets go of one of your wrists and grabs the front of your shirt. With one pull, he rips it open. You squeak in surprise as the cool night air hits your skin. Rough, almost scaled hands grasp your breasts, and he trills at the squish of your flesh. You whine when he presses his body against you, slotting between your legs with willing ease.

“So soft,” he purrs, “so warm. Though I prefer my solitude away from humans, I must admit your body heat is divine.”

You don’t say anything, simply letting out breathy moans as he kneads your breasts, clawed fingers occasionally pinching your stiffened nipples. He doesn’t seem to mind, rather he relishes your little noises and fidgets. He lets out a little laugh when you try to lean into his touch some more.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and Archons, his fur is softer than you expected. He seems perplexed by the gesture, and a surprised little noise gets caught in his throat when you pull him into a kiss. You wonder how often he’s done something like this with another human or perhaps moth person when he slithers his tongue into your mouth. His tongue tastes sweet, sort of like honey with floral hints, perhaps he feeds on nectar and honey?

You stop wondering why he tastes sweet when you feel him rock his hips against you, feeling something grind into your clothed sex. He grunts into your mouth as he humps against you, and before you can process that, you jolt when you feel it shake. You pull back and try sitting up to look. You blink, face somehow getting warmer at the fascinating and arousing sight.

It’s a decent size, bigger than what you’re used to but not completely out of the realm of possibility. It’s dark, the ridges fading from black to red at the tip. It’s coated in a layer of slick, which you think you can attribute to the dripping slit it’s protruding from. When he chuckles, his twitching cock vibrates, but only in a short burst.

“W-Wait, you can–”

“I’m sure you know that trait is meant to ward off predators in most moths,” he states, “but since I have no natural predators, and am not a measly little moth… well, past humans I’ve mated with have found the trait useful.”

It’s true. Some moths, primarily male hawkmoths, rub the scales near their genitals to make a chirping noise that confuses bats. With that in mind, it sort of makes sense that this moth man has a similar ability that is simultaneously very different. You think a less horny and somehow less rational version of you would immediately sit up and ask a hundred questions, but all you can ask is how is that going to feel when it’s inside?

The moth’s antennae twitches, and he chuckles. “Oh? Eager, are we?”

“What?”

“Your pheromones are becoming stronger moment by moment,” he states, trailing a hand down to grasp his cock, “especially after observing this.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Such a lovely scent, I think I prefer it over the moth pheromones.”

Why you find that so flattering, you don’t know, but you do know from the pulse in your core that you want that thing in you as fast as you can get it in. You lift your hips up so you can slide your pajama bottoms and your underwear off. You barely get them off before the creature grabs your thighs and forces them apart, exposing your dripping heat. He wastes no time, urging you to wrap your arms and legs around him as his tip nudges against you. You let out a little whimper as he slowly grinds against you, then stills his hips. You gasp at the burst of vibration against your clit, and he chuckles.

“Oh, you’re going to be a fun little thing.”

Without any real warning, he presses the tip against your hole, pushing into you slowly. You jolt when he finally slips inside, moaning softly as he sinks deeper into your warmth. The ridges rubbing all along your walls are a feeling quite unlike anything else. Very different, and not at all bad. He groans so sweetly in your ear as he works his way down to the base. You whine at how full you feel, barely fitting him. The pressure of it all without adequate preparation makes you ache, but no sharp pains or anything of concern. You attribute that to both your bodies’ natural lubrication. Still, even with the ache, or perhaps because of it, you feel a deep arousal, a deep want for more, more, more.

He doesn’t wait for you to give the okay before he begins thrusting. You yelp as he sets a surprisingly quick pace. Your hands claw at his back in an attempt to orient yourself. He’s not even being that rough, just quick, but with his size still stretching you and the ridges grinding against your sweet spot when he draws back and slips back in, trying to focus on one thing or another is already a little overstimulating.

He buries himself to the hilt, and you’re embarrassed at the loud, high pitched sound that rips out of your throat when you feel him shudder inside you. He laughs, and his tone seems almost mocking as he draws back, slams back inside, and does it again to hear you squeal and feel you shudder. He leans down, pressing his fluffy chest against your soft chest, so he can really see every little reaction to his little trick.

“S-Stop teasing!” you cry out when he does it a third time.

“This is the most effective way for me to– ngh… do this,” he tells you through a clenched grin. “I can only do it in quick bursts, not continuously.” To emphasize his point, he does it a fourth and fifth time, relishing in the feeling of your walls clamping down around him. “Do you want me to stop?”

He does it a sixth time, and you try to shoot him a glare, but with how smug he looks about it and how you imagine you look right now, it has no effect on him. You just pull him in closer, nuzzling your face into his neck fluff to hide your face. He does it one last time before he returns to his regular thrusting, making you moan in pleasure and relief.

Your fingers brush against his wings, and he stills for a moment, his breath hitching. It gives you an idea. When he starts up his tempo again, you rub along the scales where his wings connect to his back. He shudders against you, and his voice pitches slightly higher. He immediately stops moving, looking down at you with his shining red eyes. You offer a smug smile, but your lack of confidence is very evident. He chuckles.

His hand moves up your thigh and his thumb finds your clit. Your hips buck when he begins to rub it in quick circles, and that’s when he slams down to the hilt and you feel his cock’s vibrations again. This time, he stays buried inside you, his cock vibrating in shorter, but more frequent bursts. You cry out, the heat in your core quickly growing too much for you to handle.

“Wait, w-wait, stop!”

“Why should I?”

You sob as he presses as flush against you as he can, somehow reaching even deeper, rubbing and buzzing against your sweet spot even more. You try to move away, but his other hand holds you in place. “T-Too much,” you tell him, voice cracking as he continues to quiver inside you. “I-I’m gonna cum if you keep– hah!”

“No one’s stopping you,” he teases, “so feel free to let yourself go.”

You try to hold yourself together, but that’s when he starts rocking into you while he’s already so deep inside you, when he keeps convulsing inside you and starts rubbing your clit faster. You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you shudder and claw at his back desperately, unable to hold your moans. 

Your back arches obscenely and your hips buck when the moth man pushes you past your limit into climax. You imagine your debauched cries can be heard throughout the forest, but the white hot pleasure shooting through your nerves makes you unable to care.

You’re not even through the first waves of your orgasm when he starts thrusting into you again, making you actually start crying out as overstimulated tears slip out of your eyes. He’s at least let up on the vibrations and rubbing, but his cock is too much when you’re still reeling from the overwhelming pleasure.

“My turn,” he grunts out before you can ask what the hell he’s doing. You wouldn’t have been able to ask anyways, as each thrust knocks the wind out of you, building up your next orgasm quicker and quicker while you’re still riding out your first. You want him to stop, to slow down, to keep fucking going because you’re never going to feel this good ever again with a human cock and you need to sear this into your memory.

He lurches forward, and his sharp teeth clamp down onto your shoulder. You scream, and he slams hard into you as your eyes roll back with your second climax. You whine, the sound almost pathetic, as you feel warmth flood your core. He holds you still so he doesn’t slip out, but there’s still so much that his seed leaks out anyways.

In the stillness, you can finally get some air in your lungs as you pant. You feel the moth man pull his teeth from your shoulder, his tongue lapping at the blood. You feel your body going limp, only to tense up again and sob when you feel another burst of movement inside you.

“I hope you didn’t think that’s all it would take,” he goads, lifting his head to meet your gaze. Red stains the corners of his lips. “I don’t often get the opportunity to mate, so I intend on properly breeding you while I still have you here.”

You swallow nervously, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You don’t hate the idea, Archons no, but at this rate, you’re going to be fucked too stupid to think of an excuse for what happened here when you return to the Akademiya. Would they even believe you if you said you had sex with the giant moth in the forest.

Another shudder snaps you out of the last rational thought you’re going to have before you return, and you simply brace yourself for more.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 5

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x F!Reader

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

 You left Bucky dumbfounded after you tried to hit him. You were so angry after hearing that you got fired and lashed out at him.

If he wants to report you, so be it. You don’t care. You have lost everything. You’ve got nothing to lose.

You went to see your dad, who was arranging flowers for the next family.

“Dad, I’m going back to the city today,” you said, your voice tight.

“What’s the result?” Tom asked, remembering today was the day for the investigation results.

You rubbed your nose with your finger and cleared your throat, trying to hold back tears. “They let me go, but I got fired instead. But hey, at least I got my money back.” Your bank account had been unlocked by the judge, and you wanted to go back to the city to get all your stuff and sell your penthouse.

Tom looked concerned. “You want me to go with you?”

You shook your head. “No. I will come back after two days.”

“I’ll drive you to the station,” Tom offered, his voice filled with worry.

You headed back to the car and noticed Bucky wasn’t there anymore. As you drove to the station, the silence between you and your dad was heavy with unspoken words.

When you arrived at the station, you saw Natasha again. She looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and jealousy. “You’re using the train? Why didn’t you use the car that Bucky gave you?” She felt bitter since Bucky never offered her his car, yet you, who had just come back, could use it.

You knew from her tone that she was jealous. You just said, “It’s too slow.”

Natasha scoffed, “Yeah right.” Then she left.

You rolled your eyes; she hadn’t changed at all.

******

You arrived back in the city. Once, you thought this place would be your home. Now, you just wanted to leave it behind.

You didn’t want to set foot in the company again. You told your secretary to throw away all your stuff. Besides, there was nothing important. You had already secured everything in your safe deposit box. That’s why you had to clear your name to get access to your bank account back.

Early the next morning, you went to the bank. All you needed was the pen drive. It held all the leverage you might need. If someone tried to put you in a bad spot, this would be your last resort.

As you entered the bank, you felt a sense of relief mixed with determination. You approached the safe deposit boxes and signed the necessary forms. The pen drive felt heavy in your hand, despite its small size. It contained all the proof of strange transactions and could clear your name or take down those who had wronged you.

After securing the pen drive, you took a moment to breathe. Once a place of dreams and ambition, the city felt like a battlefield you had barely escaped.

After that, you got into the taxi to go back to your condo. As the car stopped at a red light, you saw the tall building—the headquarters owned by the Drysdale family.

You used to come here every morning, even sleeping in your office sometimes. But now, it was all in the past.

It still left a bitter taste in your mouth. After everything you did, they just threw you away. You wondered who would replace you since you knew your skills were unparalleled. No one could match you.

What made you so upset was Ransom. Until now, he hadn’t replied to a single message or email you’d sent him.

To be honest, you saw it coming. The friendship between you two had long since deteriorated. There was a time you liked him, but those feelings vanished after overhearing a conversation at a party where Ransom talked with his friends.

One of his friends had asked, “What’s up with you and her? We’ve noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together.”

Ransom scoffed, sipping his whiskey. “Nothing. I only see her as numbers. She’s the key to making me lead the company.”

“Wow,” his friend had replied, impressed.

You were heartbroken when you heard that. But part of you had expected it, knowing that Ransom was out of your league.

You arrived at your condominium and began packing. You had once thought your life was sad because your place was so empty. But now, you were grateful since it meant you could move out quickly.

You gathered everything into your luggage and boxes.

'Ding.Dong'

Then you heard the doorbell. You wondered who it could be. Besides your assistant, Ransom was the only other person who ever came to your place. Could it be him? But he never replied to any of your texts.

You looked at the camera by the door and saw Ransom on the screen. He looked a mess.

Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of anger and confusion bubbling up. You hesitated for a moment before opening the door. Ransom stood there, disheveled, his eyes hollow and tired.

You were confused. Should you open the door or not? On the other hand, you needed answers too.

Holding back your anger, you opened the door. Ransom was taken aback. He didn’t seem to expect you would actually open the door for him.

You stood behind the door, opened your arms as if welcoming him, and said, “You owe me an explanation.”

Ransom, hesitating for a moment, put his hands into his coat pockets and walked into your condo. He noticed the luggage and boxes scattered around the living room.

“You're leaving,” he observed.

Ransom scratched his head, frustration evident, then put his hand on his waist and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You gave him a stern look. “Why are you upset? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

He turned to face you, his eyes red and tired. “It's for the best.”

You scoffed, incredulous. “That's it? After years together, you just throw me away like that?”

You pointed your finger at him, anger boiling over. “I knew it was you who framed me for insider trading.”

Ransom walked past you, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. He drank slowly, as if buying time to gather his thoughts. Finally, he opened his arms and leaned against the marble counter. “It's more complicated than you think.”

You crossed your arms tightly. “I'm not in the mood to solve a puzzle.”

Ransom sighed. “Three days before the FBI raided your office, my family heard Harlan’s will.”

After Harlan’s funeral, his will wasn’t read immediately. It was his last request to delay the reading.

“What’s that got to do with me?” you demanded.

Ransom’s eyes bore into yours. “Because Harlan chose you!”

You felt like the ground had been pulled out from under you. “Me?” you gasped, speechless. Now, it all made sense—why none of the Drysdales were willing to help you. They were angry, feeling like you had stolen their birthright.

“It was my mom and her siblings who contacted the FBI and got you fired,” Ransom admitted.

“And where were you?” you yelled, hugging yourself tightly. “You’re no different from them! You left me alone.”

Ransom took a step closer, placing his hands on your shoulders gently. “I was captured.”

You raised your head, eyes wide with disbelief. “Really?”

He nodded, his expression sincere. “They let me out after they finally got what they wanted.”

"For you to get fired," Ransom began, his tone sympathetic as he addressed the issue.

“Why? I also didn't know that Harlan chose me. If you had asked me, I would have refused it,” you expressed, your voice tinged with disbelief and frustration as you crossed your arms tightly, your body language mirroring your inner turmoil. Your brow furrowed, and your shoulders tensed as you spoke, emphasizing the weight of your words.

“I know. That's what I told them,” Ransom replied, pulling you into a hug, his embrace offering both comfort and reassurance as he wrapped his arms around you securely. You stiffened momentarily in surprise at his gesture before relaxing into the embrace, your body melting into his as you allowed yourself to be comforted.

“Their plan backfired though,” Ransom continued, a wry smile playing on his lips as he spoke, his eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and exasperation at the situation.

“Huh?” you responded, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, your body tense with anticipation as you awaited his explanation. Your arms remained crossed tightly over your chest, a defensive stance reflecting your skepticism.

“The employees made a petition for you to come back,” Ransom revealed, his tone tinged with amusement at the irony of the situation, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

You were left speechless, the news catching you off guard. You had always kept to yourself at work, never realizing your impact on your colleagues, your eyes widening in surprise as you processed his words.

Ransom chuckled softly. “You're the reason why we got triple profits and they got bonuses. Why would they want to lose you?” he remarked, admiration evident in his voice, his gaze locked on yours with a mixture of fondness and respect. You offered a small, hesitant smile in response, your body language softening as his words sank in.

For the last few years, the projects that you and your team worked on have consistently generated significant profits, earning you the respect and appreciation of your colleagues, a sense of pride swelling within you as you recall your past achievements.

You nodded slowly, a sense of validation washing over you as you acknowledged the impact of your work.

“And I'm here to tell you that you're not fired,” Ransom declared, his words carrying a sense of relief and sincerity, his eyes searching yours for any sign of acceptance or understanding.

You were supposed to be happy when you heard that, but with your father's condition, you had second thoughts.

You pushed Ransom away, whispering, “I'm sorry.”

Ransom looked puzzled. “What?”

You struggled to explain, “The reason why I said no is because of my dad. He's got cancer.” And you're still hurt by the betrayal from the company you've worked for a long time.

Ransom's eyes widened. “You went back home and met your dad?”

You nodded your head.

Ransom couldn't believe this. He had never heard you mention your dad until now, and it was the first time he saw you being vulnerable.

“Alright. I can't stop you,” Ransom said resignedly. He knew you had to go, but he was going to miss you. It would be difficult to find a talented person like you.

“Wait. Does it mean you've met the people who made your life miserable?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“You should show them the new you,” Ransom suggested. Having attended the same high school, he had witnessed what they did to you.

You looked at Ransom, considering his words. It was strange hearing him advise you like this, given your complicated history. But there was a sincerity in his voice that made you pause.

“Maybe,” you mumbled, still uncertain.

Ransom nodded, his expression softening. “They don't know what they're missing out on. You've grown stronger, more resilient.”

You managed a weak smile, appreciating his attempt to boost your spirits. Despite everything, there was a flicker of gratitude for his unexpected support.

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[quinnysnursery]

when the party's over,, move-in day・₊✧

summary : the triplets (and nate) move into their dorms! meet some new friends and nate's a worry-wart (rightfully so)

warning/extra tid-bits : crying, explicit language, i think that's all?

word count : 2,318

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (pointy & leafy thing from @saradika-graphics)

a/n : FIRST PIECE OF WTPO LITERATURE RAAAAA (not proof read, i'm just a girl!)

“Alright,” Jimmy let out a stereotypical “dad-groan” as he stood up straight, cracking his back. “That should be it.” He said, clapping his hands together as he examined the dorm room he’d helped his youngest son and Nathan set up.

Mary Lou had decided to help Matt and Nick, since it was clear that Matt was overly anxious about move-in day and so was Nick- though he’d never admit it- which meant he’d be extra snippy with Matt…a recipe for disaster. 

“Thanks Mr.S, it looks good!” Nate smiled, admiring the work the three of them had gotten done. “Home sweet home, right Chris?” He smiled, nudging Chris’ shoulder. Chris laughed softly, “Not for long, rush week starts tomorrow.” The youngest triplet replied. Heart set on moving into the Kappa Nu house.

Jimmy smiled fondly, he’d been a part of the well-known fraternity when he attended NESE. Chris (and Matt and Nick, if they weren’t so stubborn) would be legacy. “Just remember to be yourself, don’t go getting expelled trying to impress the president.” Jimmy reminded his son, pulling him into a side-hug. 

Chris nodded, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know.” He grumbled, tired of being told the same thing repeatedly.

 “Oh wow!” An unfamiliar chirpy voice came from the doorway, startling the two younger boys. Chris unintentionally reached for Nate, quickly scolding himself. He couldn’t do that, not here- at least not now.

The dorm RA was standing in the doorframe of Nate and Chris’ door. The youngest triplet vaguely remembered meeting him when touring the school last year. 

Larri. His name didn’t match his vibe, nor his looks at all. It was an old man's name and well, Larri was maybe 21 at the oldest.

“You're giving the room across from you a run for their money.” Larri joked, earning a deep chuckle from Jimmy. “Those are actually my other sons.” He explained, earning a shocked expression from Larri. “All three of your sons go here?!” He asked excitedly, Jimmy nodded- pushing Chris in front of him, away from the safety of Nate. 

“Triplets.” Jimmy smiled proudly, Larri’s head whipped to Matt and Nick’s dorm- confirming what he’d just been told. 

“I’m…woah.” He breathed, eyes filled with amazement- Chris wondered if it was just a show Larri put on for the parents during move-in day. 

“Well, it’ll be nice having some siblings on this floor. NESE doesn’t see siblings often.” Larri hummed before pointing to Chris’ nightlight that Nate had just plugged in moments prior. “Is that bulb LED?” He asked, eyes flickering between both freshmen.

“Uhm…” Nate thought back to when he’d bought it for Chris a few Christmases ago. Did the box say LED? Or CFL? What was the difference? Why did it even matter?

“If it’s not LED then I’ll have to ask you guys to unplug it when you aren’t around.” Larri explained, “Dumb fire hazard rule.” He added- earning a furrowed brow from Jimmy. 

“I mean! Very cool and safe fire hazard rule.” Larri corrected himself, earning a laugh from Chris. Larri was funny, even if it was just an act for move-in day. “Will do.” Nate said, unplugging the nightlight and tossing it into a drawer. Chris stopped himself from whining about it. 

He was a freshman in college, he could survive without seeing his night light plugged in. 

Larri bid his goodbyes after that, and not long after did Mary Lou and Jimmy offer to take the boys out to eat before officially leaving them on their own.

“Mom, don't cry.” Nick laughed softly, as Mary Lou pulled all her boys into another hug. “You know she can’t help it.” Jimmy scolded gently, hugging his boys as well. Nate included.

Mary Lou pulled away, tears in her eyes. “You four look out for each other, yeah?” She said, wavering a finger in their faces. “Nick, go to bed at a decent time.” She started, earning a playful eye roll from her eldest. “Matt,” Mary Lou placed her hands on Matt’s shoulders. “Remember to take breaks studying, yeah?” The middle triplet smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah, ‘kay mom.” 

Mary Lou let out a loving sigh as she turned to face her youngest son, her last child. “Chris, don’t forget to wash your socks.” Chris couldn’t help but laugh, pulling his mom into one more hug, “I won’t, promise.”. 

The triplets mom turned towards Nate, who’d been right next to each one of her boys nearly their entire life. “You look after my boys, okay?” She asked, earning a firm “Yes ma’am.” from Nate. 

After a few more teary hugs, the triplets and Nate watched as their parents got into their car before driving off campus.

“Just us now.” Nick sighed, turning around and beginning to walk back to his dorm. Nate, Matt and Chris all glanced at each other before following the oldest triplet. “What now?” Chris asked- trying to hide the looming feeling of anxiety. 

“I’m going to the library!” Matt smiled excitedly, pulling out his student ID with a toothy grin. “The library?” Nate asked, furrowing his brow. “Yeah! NESE holds the world record for the biggest college library!” The brunette smiled, earning a stifled laugh from his younger brother- “You are such a nerd.” Chris poked, frowning as Nate elbowed him in the side. 

Matt rolled his eyes, flipping Chris off playfully as he split off from the group. “What about you Nick?” Nate asked, subconsciously making sure Chris was walking in front of him.

“I wanted to finish editing those photos I took at our going-away party.” Nick said as they all entered the elevator, pressing the 4th floor button. Nate nodded, glancing at Chris with concerned eyes. 

‘Ding!’

Nick quickly exited the elevator, rummaging in his pockets for his dorm room keys. Nate did the same, saying bye to Nick before he and Chris slipped into their dorm.

It wasn’t a huge room by any means, but due to NESE only accepting the very best of applicants- it was bigger than an average dorm. Enough room for both Chris and Nate to spread their arms out and still not feel claustrophobic. 

“You good? Feeling little?” Nate asked the youngest triplet as Chris flopped onto his bed- letting out a deep sigh. Chris quickly shook his head, “What? No, I’m good.” He defended, crossing his arms over his chest as he scowled at Nate.

Nate’s brow quirked upwards, “It’s fine if you are Chris, it’s been a long day.” The shorter boy sympathized. He didn’t want to push regression onto Chris, but it didn’t take a genius to realize that today was stressful and stressful days typically led the boy to regression.

“I’m fine, Nate.” Chris grouched, turning to face the wall. Nate’s shoulders slumped as he sat on his own bed and grabbed his phone from his pocket- opening tiktok and beginning his doom scrolling. 

Matt clutched a leather-bound book to his chest, gulping an anxious knot down as he searched for an unoccupied table in the library. For NESE holding the world record for biggest library, you’d think that would be an easy task- Sadly for Matt, it was not.

“You can sit here.” A confident voice spoke to the right of him, Matt turned and his eyes landed on a tall girl with braids and a tan boy with fluffy black-ish hair.

The boy’s eyes were fixated on a laptop screen, Matt couldn’t see what was playing though. But the girl with braids had a few textbooks and notes sprawled out around her. “We don’t bite.” She joked, the brunette man let out a breathy laugh as he sat across from her and the dark-haired boy. 

Matt kept to himself for a few moments, eyes scanning the words on book’s parchment- flipping through the pages. It was a book on BPD and how it affected the brain. Matt was only a few pages in, but the author was doing a good job at not demonizing the mental illness.

The library was just as beautiful as the pictures on google showed, the high ceilings and shelves that required multiple rolling ladders- a general golden glow in the air that made Matt feel like a student at Hogwarts.

It wasn’t until Matt heard a low whine followed by some whispering that he looked up from his book. He was met with the sight of the tan boy whispering into the girl with braids ear- she scooted the laptop over a smidge before typing in something and pressing the spacebar. 

“There.” She smiled, rubbing the boy's shoulder before turning to return to her book- that’s when she caught Matt’s eyes.

“Sorry!” Matt’s face flushed with embarrassment as he forced his gaze downwards, praying she didn’t hate him. There was a painful silence for a few moments before the girl spoke again, “What’re you reading?” She asked, closing the current textbook she was reading out of.

Matt blinked up, his brain taking a moment to register the question he’d been asked. “Oh uhm, ‘s just a book on BPD.” He shrugged, picking up the book to show her the cover. The girl nodded, “I’m Quen.” She smiled- reaching her hand over the table.

Matt stammered over his name for a moment, quickly shaking her hand. ‘Good going, you’re making a fool of yourself.’ His brain told him- he did his best to push it down.

“Let me guess…psych major?” Quen smirked, earning a quiet laugh from Matt as he nodded. “Yeah…what about you?” He asked, making a mental note of the page he was on before closing the book. “Business, it sucks.” She sighed, waving a hand over the mountains of textbooks she had sprawled out.

Matt nodded- understanding, his dad had been a business major. His eyes flickered over to the tan boy sitting next to Quen, “His lucky ass has a film scholarship.” She joked. Matt had to cover his mouth to stop his laughter. 

“You a freshman? I haven’t ever seen you around.” Quen commented, earning a nod from Matt. “Yeah, just moved in today.” He explained, already smiling at the thought of telling Nick how he’d managed to make a new friend.

Quen nodded- beginning to pack up some of her things. “Are you gonna rush on monday?” She asked, Matt quickly shook his head. “My brother is, but ‘s not really my scene.” He explained, recalling the various times Chris told him just how lame he was for not wanting to be in a frat.

“It’s awesome! Parties every weekend, brotherhood-” “Chris you already have brothers.” “Shut up!”

 Quen thought for a moment before speaking, “Triplets?” She asked, causing Matt to stop. How did she know that? “...Yeah?” 

Quen nodded, “Larri told me, we hang out a lot.” She explained as she zipped up her lavender Fjallraven backpack before reaching over the boy in front of her and taking the laptop from him- much to his dismay.

“Quen!” He whined, pulling off his headphones. His face blushed a light shade of pink as he finally recognized Matt was sitting across from him. Quen realized this, motioning to Matt and the boy.

“Matt, Ben. Ben, Matt.” She introduced as she stuffed the laptop Ben had been using into the corresponding compartment of her bag. Matt smiled, offering Ben a small wave.

Ben’s lips quirked upwards into a smile before Quen informed him they had to go if they were going to catch dinner with Larri and Tara. 

“Bye Matt, good meeting you! Hope your brother gets into KN.” Quen smiled before grabbing hold of Ben’s hand and leading him out of the library. Matt sighed, leaning back in the wooden chair- did he just make a friend?

The next day, Chris (surprisingly) woke up before Nate. Which was good, because that meant Chris could spend as long as he wanted choosing the perfect outfit for meeting the brothers of Kappa Nu for the first time.

He knew if Nate had been awake he’d tell Chris to just “be himself!” but his brain stopped accepting that advice the moment he saw the Kappa Nu house in person during his first ever tour of the school.

Chris would do anything- or be anyone- he had to to get inside that house. 

The youngest triplet opened the drawers of the shared dresser he and Nate helped Jimmy set up yesterday, his eyes landing on his beloved night light that Nate had thoughtlessly shoved into the drawer after the RA asked him to unplug it.

A small frown formed without Chris’ permission, causing him to slam the drawer shut out of frustration. It was a nightlight. He was being ridiculous.

“...Chris?” Nate croaked, sitting up slightly in his bed. Chris turned to look at his friend, feeling bad he’d woke the shorter boy up.

“...’s 6 am, go to bed.” Nate murmured, laying back down and burying his face in his pillow. Chris rolled his eyes, continuing to search the dresser drawers for a specific pair of jeans. Suddenly, Nate shot back up- eyes full of concern that only a caregiver could have.

“Are you little? Do you need something, bud?” Nate asked, “No!” Chris argued back. Nate sighed, raising his hands in defense. “Then what’re you doing up?” The shorter boy asked, now fully awake. 

“Pickin’ out clothes. Gotta make a good first impression.” Chris explained, smiling as he finally found the perfect pair of baggy jeans. Nate nodded silently, legs dangling off the raised bed. 

“Just be yourself, they’ll love you.” Nate smiled, hopping off the bed and placing a comforting hand on Chris’ shoulder. Chris shrugged his hand off, grabbing his shower caddy and starting towards the door. Nate watched sadly as his best friend slipped out the room. It was clear that Chris would do whatever it took to get into Kappa Nu, and that terrified Nate.

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this one-shot is apart of my agere frat/college au! find more info on it, here!

[assassinmidnight]

Flufftober day 22: Heirloom

Jason/RedHood xVigilante!AFAB!Autistic!Reader

Not proof read, I have dyslexia (sorry for any mistakes)

“Hey, Bruce?” Jason knocked on the mahogany door, waiting for a moment before hearing a grunted “come in.”

Upon entering the office, Jason looked around, eyes grazing over the photos on the walls, picture perfect family photos of the Waynes. He’s surprised to find himself in a few of them, dressed in a merlot suit, next to Dick, who was in a neat azure suit. Tim, Damian and Bruce were all dressed in black suits, typical if you asked Jason. They all had matching handkerchiefs in the pockets though, white with embroidered initials, golden of course. 

“Richard did say you were planning on stopping by, although he didn’t mention why,” Bruce signs off on some paper before looking up at Jason, motioning with his hand for him to sit down, “He did hint at it being connected to young Score and your current living arrangements,” Jason noticed the glint in the older man’s eyes. “Thank you for letting us borrow the cabin and for letting us get out of that event, the’res still not fully used to it,” Bruce smiled at the words “I’m hoping to meet them again soon, Alfred has informed me of their food preferences so there won’t be anything to worry about there.” Jason wanted to respond but Bruce continued “But you’re not here to thank me either, so why are you here?” Jason stood up, hands clamming up with sweat. “Um, Dick said that you, um, had a jeweller, a family one,” he took a deep breath “I need a ring.”

Bruce felt a wave of emotions go through him, he hadn’t expected this. Maybe he would ask for a house for them, so they could finally move out of that one bedroom apartment that Score had, or maybe even ask for a better suit for them. He hadn’t expected this. 

Jason watched with nervous eyes as Bruce stood up and walked over to one of the photo frames, it was one from a family dinner a few years back. Pushing it to the side revealed a safe, and after a minute he came up to Jason. In his hands was a jewellery box with a glass lid, inside a multitude of rings, in different sizes and cuts, were visible. “My mother got a lot of rings from my father, and I have very little use for them,” Jason looked up and saw Bruce smiling at him. “I would recommend a pearl for the engagement, and a diamond for the wedding,” Bruce pointed first to a ring with a white pearl on a silver band then to one with a diamond with a gold band. “But you know their tastes best.”

~

“Jay? I still want those almonds,” your voice brings him out of his thoughts, grabbing your hand he slowly leads you away from the crowd and the bonfire. “Yeah, I’ll bring you this time so I don’t forget,” you smiled at him and followed with a pep in your steps.

The two of you eventually sat down on a bench, one bag of roasted almonds each. “This has really been perfect,” you say, chewing on the almonds while watching the fire, Jason nodded, watching you. 

“Remember when I said I could make sure there's a bonfire on our anniversary?” Looking at him you respond “That’s not exactly what you said,” 

“No but it's what I meant,” you can’t help the smile growing on your lips and nod, “Well, what if today was our anniversary?” 

“And which anniversary would that be?” Jason sees the confusion on your face and moves from beside you to in front of you, on one knee.

“Our engagement anniversary?” He holds out a little red velvet box, opening it to show a pearl ring. “Princess, will you marry me?”

--

*I DO NOT ALLOW THE PLAGIARISM OF MY WORK, FOR IT TO BE USED IN AI OR FOR IT TO BE REPOSTED ELSEWHERE*

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Would A Fennekin Be A Good Pet?

It’s Indigo Disk release day! Or, well, it sort of came out last night where I live. But anyways! I hope everyone who plays has fun with it! For today’s Indigo Disk Week post, let’s take a look at the fantastic fan-favorite fennekin! Anyone familiar with this blog won’t be surprised to hear that fennekin, a fire-type starter, gets a B rank. While some particularly prepared people may be able to handle a fennekin, they might not be the best pets for some owners.

They check all the pet compatibility boxes that all starters have so far. Fennekins are the perfect size to be a pet, and their friendliness is second to none. As common first partner pokémon for trainers in the Kalos Region, fennekins have a long history of being great companions open to training. Also, unlike some fire-type pokémon, fennekins don’t have any open flames on their bodies. While they are a bit of a fire hazard (more on that later), they aren’t as rough as some. That being said, be very careful when handling a fennekin: their huge (adorable) ears act as vents for hot air generated when they eat that can reach temperatures as hot as 390 degrees Fahrenheit (X)!

Unfortunately, there isn’t very much data in the pokédex about wild fennekin behavior. We do know that they like to munch on twigs, which allows them to build up the hot air inside their bodies which they can use for various means (X, Y). It’s unclear if twigs are the only thing that fennekins eat. I’d suggest feeding your fennekin alternative snacks in order to prevent the build-up of dangerous heat, but there isn’t enough information to decide whether or not fennekins need to eat twigs or build up said heat to survive.

The heat that fennekins build up can be used in battle to make use of a variety of fire-type moves that present significant risks of harm to you and your home. Fire-type starter classics like Fire Spin and Flamethrower are there, as well as a handful of psychic attacks for good measure. If a fennekin were to attack you, the results could be disasterous. As far as we know, this species isn’t particularly aggressive. When facing a threat, they first try to intimidate their foe with puffs of hot air through their ears (Y), so at the very least you would have some warning before an attack occurred. With proper training, the risks associated with keeping a fennekin may be mitigated (and who knows, maybe they don’t need their twig snacks to survive anyways), but we do need to consider these risks. Accidents happen, as do tantrums and play that gets out of hand.

If you are someone who is prepared to take on the risks inherent to fire-type pokémon (and invest in some fire-proof furniture for good measure), you should be able to handle a fennekin with little issue. However, if you are inexperienced with this type of pokémon, a fennekin might be too big a challenge to meet safely. All that being said, I know I’m not gonna stop anyone from adopting a fennekin. It’s fennekin!

[kitcat992]

Identity Within︱Chapter 12 - Wedding Crashers (PREVIEW)

“No!”

Peter’s shoes came to a screeching halt against the parking garage pavement. Any harder and he was sure they would’ve caught on fire.

“No, no — c’mon, no!” His index finger tapped relentlessly and repetitively against the device, practically smashing his bone against the already cracked screen — if his outburst caused more damage along the way, he honestly wouldn’t have known. “You had enough juice left to turn on! C’mon, turn on!”

As many times as Peter tried, the little bit of ghost power he managed to capture was all but gone. It didn’t matter what button he pressed, how long he pressed it for, how many times he smashed his fist against the screen — definitely causing a crack that time.

“Turn on again, please turn on again, please please please just turn on again!”

The parking garage captured his voice in an echo.

It was the only response to his plea.

Peter ran a shaky hand through his hair, careless to how the fidget in his fingers messed up the style he had perfectly created earlier that morning. A large strand fell in front of his eyes; undoing hours of work and almost blocking his view of the black screen from the device held in his hand.

The reflection of his face against the dead cell phone was almost enough to make him say a very, very bad word.

This was not good.

This was not good at all.

“Oh, Mr. Stark’s going to kill me.” Peter threw his head back with a groan that rattled every rib bone in his chest. And yet still, not even that was enough to vocalize how bad things were.

Bad was running late for Mr. Stark’s wedding — a wedding that over a year ago he would’ve never dreamed to be invited to, let alone be a part of the ceremony. Bad was running even more late because he couldn’t find where the groom’s suite was, and bad was needing the bride to walk him there, inducing an amount of embarrassment he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover from.

Bad was even forgetting how to dress his tie — but this?

Losing Mr. Stark’s wedding rings?

Peter’s face grimaced tight enough that his eyes squeezed shut and his eyelids felt like were starting to rip apart. Mr. Stark had made those wedding rings. He couldn’t believe he lost those rings, the same rings he watched Mr. Stark personally handcraft — handcraft with material that wasn’t exactly something he could pick up at any ‘ol store, as if the rings could be easily replaced and remade.

The thought was harsh enough that Peter could feel his teeth ground even harder together.

He knew those rings came from the arc reactor that got Mr. Stark home from Afghanistan.

He knew all about how Pepper was the one to insist Mr. Stark keep it, turning it into a memento that stayed with them throughout the duration of their relationship.

During their first lab nights together, Peter would always catch eye of it across Mr. Stark’s workshop, in awe of what he got to see in person — always noticing how the lights created a glare against the words that were encased safely inside a glass box — ‘Proof That Tony Stark Has A Heart’ always on display, up until now.

He had to find those rings.

“Okay, I have like….twelve minutes to figure this out. I just need to find whatever room Ms. Potts was in, and then retrace my steps from there.” Peter squeezed his phone tightly, while his other hand scratched roughly at his head — any hopes of maintaining his hairstyle long gone by now. “This can’t be too hard, right? I just gotta remember which direction May went before we split up…”

While the parking garage was barely a minute’s walk to the cathedral, Peter knew once he got back to the church, any direction could lead him just about anywhere. He’d already wound up lost in the building before, now he didn’t have a single second to waste finding his way around the building.

The parking garage went one of two ways. Peter looked left, then right, then left again, before—

—a sharp tingle sent goosebumps throughout his skin—

— Peter spun around, instinctively, impulsively, without thought—

“—sleeeeeeeeeepppp.”

A hand yanked at the back of his head, tugging at his hair, forcing him still as something pressed firmly against his mouth — sealed around his mouth, leaving no room for fumes to escape anywhere else but inside the depths of his lungs.

Peter’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as his knees slowly sank to the ground, eventually collapsing onto the pavement; with the hold he had on his cell phone growing weak and lax, until it fell away from him completely.

His vision went as black as the cracked screen of his phone.

[lume7]

Bernard the Elf x Reader

So this is a bullet point sort of imagine/headcanons that I’m also using as the framework of a fanfiction I’m currently writing because there is not enough work with everyone’s favorite head elf, Bernard. (This is for the first Santa Clause movie and some slight changes to the timeline of the movie just because I can.)

- You’re Scott’s kid and Charlie’s older sibling and met him for the first time when you got roped into adventures on Christmas Eve in 1994. (You’re an eighth grader at this point.)

- That night when you were still up because you had seen the lack of Christmas cheer in your dad’s house and wanted to still make it special for your little brother. So you had been in your room cutting snowflakes and making garland to make the morning magical for him.

- After the divorce you had taken on a sort of parental role for Charlie because of the instability the pair of you had being caught in the middle of a neverending custody battle. So when you had arrived at the North Pole you were extremely protective of Charlie. In response Bernard had to convince you that you were both safe and more importantly no harm was going to come to Charlie while you were there.

- For the most part of that first day (night?) you met Bernard, you were looking after Charlie as the pair of you were taken around the workshop for food, etc. and only really talked somewhat normally late in the night when your father and brother were asleep.

- Bernard of course was still awake due to the stress of that Christmas, the whole new Santa and the Santa Clause not being taken well by your dad. So you ran into him while you were exploring that workshop looking for some paper and scissors to continue on the decorations you started back at home for Charlie.

- He was confused why you were still up and explained that you were on the search for paper and scissors to finish your surprise for Charlie. Bernard being an elf offered to help you finish your surprise for Charlie.

- Bernard was easily a lot better than you at it but ensured you that yours were not bad at all. He was secretly impressed at your artistic abilities as you were a human after all and had no were near as much experience as he did. You explained that every year at Nutcracker rehearsals you and the other kids would make these crafts every year decorating your dressing rooms.

- Bernard shared about what it was like being head elf and how Christmases through the years had been for him with the different Santas.

- You shared how life was since the divorce, how Christmases used to be celebrated before it happened and your strong opinion that Nutcracker music is definitely categorized as Christmas music.

- The pair of you talked until sunrise and he sent both you and your family back home.

- When you woke up in your bed you were positive it was a dream but when you saw your dad in the pajamas and Charlie began talking your ears off about the previous night you knew it was real. The final piece of proof was the decoration the two of you had worked on being all over the family room and your stocking being stuffed with a wooden nutcracker.

- As the year continued on you got wrapped up in school, ballet and shielding Charlie from the worsening relationship between your parents. You also continually encouraged Charlie to not talk about what happened that last Christmas because it just added fuel to fire of the newest battle in what you deemed the custody war.

- However the final straw was when the boxes of the list to your dad’s house caused you to trip, break your ankle, benching you from dance until it healed. Your mom and Neal used this as the final piece of evidence of how Scott’s actions had not only created a mentally/emotionally unsafe environment for your brother and you but also a physically unsafe environment. As crazy it was all and the questioning from the judge full custody was awarded to your Mom and Neal.

- The next months are mainly you just being horribly frustrated, depressed and mad at the world. Neal of course encourages you to talk and feel your feelings (as well intended as he is) the day that would have been your Nutcracker auditions you finally snap and hobble up to your room. You see the nutcracker and end up tossing it across the room in frustration because it’s a reminder of both how everything has changed again and how your injury is not allowing you to participate in the Nutcracker this year.

- After the nutcracker clatters to the ground you regret it immediately seeing that it has broken. You gathered up the pieces and began to fix him as best as you can.

- Charlie sees you in your room when you’re crying quietly as you attempt to fix your nutcracker. He immediately dug out the snowglobe from Bernard that he had hidden away from mom and Neal. Charlie quietly slips into your room and sets the snow globe on your desk as a gesture to make you feel better.

- Since the snowglobe is magical and allows communication Bernard was able to find out what’s happening and that’s the second time you see him.

- You felt extremely guilty and embarrassed when you saw him with the broken nutcracker sprawled out on your desk and puffy eyes. He’s confused on how the nutcracker had gotten into the state it was now in and you admitted to your regretted outburst.

- Bernard quietly listened and made no comment on your outburst but directed all his attention to the broken nutcracker. “It’s not a bad beginning to a repair job,” he told you as he looked over its current state. Bernard pushed his way onto the desk chair with you and silently began fixing the nutcracker. “There, all better,” he said as he placed the fixed nutcracker back on your desk.

- That’s when you both noticed how close you both were causing Bernard to stand up abruptly causing you to fall off the chair.

- The third time you see Bernard is when your dad comes to say goodbye to Charlie and yourself before going up to the North Pole. You end up going with Charlie and your dad to the North Pole.

- The next month or so you help around the workshop.

- Most of the time Bernard ends up assigning you to areas that need a little extra help and conveniently he is often the one that needs an extra hand as it draws closer to Christmas.

- You helping is mostly listening to him talk about the inner workings of the workshop and offering potential solutions. Sometimes they’re good solutions and sometimes they’re not but you’re a good sounding board for him and his work.

- On Christmas Eve you joined your dad and brother on the delivery. When your dad gets taken to jail, Charlie stuck on the roof, you had come into the house and were now stuck being relentlessly questioned by your mom and Neal.

- They gave up and decided that they will have to take you in the next morning for psychiatric help. Neal is making you a sandwich when your dad and Charlie come back.

- Just like the movie your mom and Neal come to the realization that your dad truly had become Santa. Bernard appeared and ends up taking the sandwich that Neal had been making for you.

- After Bernard explained the whole snowglobe to Charlie he took his scarf and wrapped it around you. Bernard thanked you for helping him the past month around the workshop and soon disappeared in a poof.

To Be Continued in Part 2 (which will focus on the second movie) 

-> https://at.tumblr.com/lume7/bernard-the-elf-x-reader-part-2/avn7osf72kwt

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You - Ch 12

Good weekend everyone!!! Ready for an another chapter?

MASTERLIST

Two days had passed from the fire and Rowan’s house had been transformed quickly in a chaos of toys. Although Maya was good at tidying up at night before bed, during the day his house was mayhem. And he was happy. His two girls were still recovering from the shock. Aelin had taken a couple of days off work after Elide and Lysandra had forced her to. Maya had been quieter than usual and that worried him. Both of them were struggling to sleep and in the past two nights he had found himself sandwiched between them. Maya would climb at his front and just cling to him, while Aelin played big spoon and rested against his back. He knew they were both struggling. He would have loved to stay at home with them but there was so much to do and he was helping the police with the investigation on the building fire. The previous day he had gone and collected the last few belonging boxed in the flat and finally closed that chapter of their lives. Rowan hated not being with them but he knew that Aelin was going back to work and would take Maya with her. They had called the school and explained the situation and Rowan had gone to the school to get Maya’s homework and the last lessons she had missed. Being in primary school it was still basic stuff but he felt that it was important and he and Aelin had been helping her at night.

That morning he was standing outside the tall block of flats and waiting for Captain Falliq and the chief of OFI. They were meant to go inside the building and try to find more proof of what caused the fire. They had the mechanics but now they had to discover the why and Nersys was positive it was arson.

Connall Moonbeam was the first one who met him. He was Fenrys brother. They had all done the academy together. Fenrys was still on active duty at station 3 but Connall had to retire from active duty after an accident during a fire that left him with bad lung problems and a problematic leg so he found a permanent position in the office for fire investigations and slowly made his way up the ladder.

“Morning Con,”

“You really are back, I thought Fen was taking the piss.”

Rowan laughed “Yes, I am.”

“And Chief nonetheless. Good, we did need a change of leadership.”

The both remained in silence while they waited for Nersyn to arrive.

“Do you really think it’s arson?”

“Nes thinks so.”

Connall sighed “You know how hard it is to prove and from what you told me this building was badly managed anyway. I need to make sure that the actual cause is human intervention and intentionally caused.”

“I know, I did try and explain to her but she believes Hamel was trying to get rid of this residential building to transform it into a business one,” he added with restrained fury “Apparently flats are not profitable. No matter that the monster charges an extortions for rent.”

Not long after, the captain emerged from her car and Rowan smiled at her wearing safety shoes and a hard hat. He had explained her the risks of entering a building after afire.

“Good morning guys, Sorry I am late but I was checking an anonymous tip we got about this fire. The person believes this was intentional. Apparently someone else had eyes on this building to make it commercial.”

Rowan was furious. Where were people meant to live if every rich bastard decided that buildings in the city centre were only good for business?

The three of them entered the building and slowly made their way to where overhaul had identified the origin point. 

Rowan walked to the main switchboard and with his torch illuminated the panel “It originated here,” he showed them the scorch marks of the origin point. Slowly he removed the panel and showed them the mess of the cables.

“That is not safe.” Added Connall, staring at the mess of badly tangled cables, they all looked ruined by years of bad maintenance but there was nothing pointing to arson.

Rowan would definitely jail the bastard just for negligence.

“Rowan, go back there, please?”

He pointed the light back to where Connall had indicated and they spotted a cable with a clean cut “This has been snapped with tools. And see the protective plastic around? It’s peeled back to expose the cables but it’s far too perfect and neat. This was deliberate.”

“Do you think they keep maintenance logs? Any trace of who was the last person to come down here? Only technicians have access keys to this panel.”

Nesryn took some notes “I am sure I will be able to find that for you.”

Rowan walked around the ruins of the place until his feet ended up in a puddle “Water, the guy had mentioned water too.” With his torch he followed the trail and noticed that the wall had all the marks of an internal water leak. With his axe he hit a specific point and water burst out with force, beneath it the electrical wiring was fried. Connall helped him to open the hole a bit more and with their torches they inspected the inside “If I remember the blueprint correctly, this is just below the flat that was the epicentre.”

“Shall we go upstairs?” Prompted Rowan, while already moving. The other two followed suite. As per protocol the flat had been boarded up but Connall and Rowan were two people who had the authority to go in so they slowly took down the boards and stepped in. The flat was a mess of burnt items. He could still see the signs of a family living there. A mother and her eighteen years old daughter. Their dreams, their hopes. All destroyed because of one man’s greed.

According to the report from his men, the fire in that room had been brutal. The kitchen had gone up in seconds and for the two women there had been no escaping. Rowan and Connall moved the appliances and found traces of sparks too and then water. They inspected the building for a good hour while Nesryn followed them in silence and took notes of their theories. The cut cable was a definite proof of a deliberate act, but the rest seemed like gross misconduct. Now it was her turn to piece all the details together and build up a case strong enough to jail Hamel forever.

When they finally exited the building the cop took a deep breath of fresh air, while Connall removed his white face mask to prevent him breathing dust particles that would cause him issues.

“This was very interesting and I have collected a lot of images and notes to help with my investigation. I have the copies of your reports as well so hopefully I will have something more solid soon.”

They thanked the cop and both men remained alone “This was sick.” Added Connall.

Rowan’s stare was on the top floor where Aelin and Maya lived. A barrage of what ifs crossed his mind. They had been quite far from the fire but still… If… If… If… Now that flat lay empty and his two women were safe at his house, he had to concentrate on that, for the sake of his sanity.

“I will send you and Nes any updates as soon as we analyse the samples I took.”

“Keep me posted, please.”

The two men said goodbye and Rowan jumped back in his pickup and drove to the bookstore.

*

Working helped. Aelin felt much better after a whole morning surrounded once again by books and her two friends. Maya had been in a better mood too and spent the morning in the children section or helping her mum shelve books.

She was busy helping a customer when she spotted the white shirt and dark jacket of the chief of the TFD entering the premises and Maya’s scream of joy at seeing her father.

“Dad!!” She ran to him and Rowan lifted her up effortlessly.

“Hi munchkin, how are you?”

She lifted Elf “we have been helping mum with all the books.”

With Maya still in his arms, he walked to the counter to greet Elide and Lysandra.

“We kept an eye on them, being busy helps a lot.”

“Dad, I fixed the kids section.”

“You did?” He kissed her “Show me.”

Father and daughter walked towards the back of the shop and Aelin joined her two friends.

“He is so adorable with her.”

Aelin stared at Rowan listening to what Maya was saying and agreed. Rowan was amazing with her.

“Lorcan asked me if I want one too.”

Both women squealed “What did you tell him?”

“Yes, of course as long as they are not a grumpy little thing like their father.”

“Now we have to convince my cousin Aedion to pop the question and make Lys a married woman.”

Lys rolled her eyes “If he doesn’t get a move on I am going to propose.”

Elide clapped her hands happily “Look at us responsible women.”

“Rowan needs to pop the question too.”

Aelin stopped “Rowan and I… it’s complicated.”

“In what universe? You already have a daughter and now live together too. You are basically married without the paperwork.”

“And didn’t you kiss the other night?” Added Elide.

“It was just to comfort me. It was sweet but it had nothing sexual about it.”

“Sure, but it moved something, eh?”

It did. Old feelings had started to come back quickly and being in the same house with him was not helping. She was torn between the version of five years before who was madly in love with him and the new version who was still struggling with his return and was scared of trying again.

“Maya is the most important thing just now. My needs can wait.”

“Until you two are alone in that big house of his and he can finally have your way with you and make you scream so hard you scare the squirrels.”

Aelin burst out laughing “Lys, you definitely read too many romance books.”

“No such thing.” She added quickly.

“We are just saying that the sexual tension between you is thick and we are expecting fireworks when you finally decide to stop being stubborn.”

Rowan came back with Maya half holding three books in her hands “dada bought me some books.”

“You are a bad influence,” joked Aelin, while taking the books from her daughter.

“As long as she is asking me to buy her books, I am happy to indulge her.”

“Also, I come here with an invitation,” he started “The annual hockey game between TFD and PD is on the 22nd. I know you are closed like all the shops for a couple of days and you are invited.” He turned to Lys “Aedion is welcome too if his job at the academy allows him to.” Aedion had been in the army for a very long time and when he retired he was offered a job as trainer for the recruits.

“It’s a good thing that you are back. We have been loosing for the past few years and Westfall has been a dick about it and brags to no end.”

Aelin glared at Elide for the D word and the young woman froze.

“Mama what is a dick?”

The adults froze “Maya, auntie Elide meant a stick.”

The girl seemed to accept the answer and went back browsing her books in silence.

“I will let you know all the details and give the tickets to Aelin.”

Rowan then kneeled beside Maya “I have to go back to work, but you keep company to mum and I will see you tonight.”

Maya wound her arms around his neck “Thank you for the books,” a kiss on his cheek.

Rowan kissed her back then stood and then pulled Aelin to him depositing a soft kiss on the crown of her head “I should be home by six.”

In response she leaned against his chest and nodded “be careful.”

“Always.” He pulled back, saluted the women and disappeared.

“Sure, no feelings.” Added Elide.

“He is totally disgusted by you.” Continued Lysandra.

Elide lifted Maya on the high chair “What do you think, little one? Your mum and dad like each other?”

The girl nodded energetically “Yes. Mum is happy.”

Aelin stared at the door where Rowan had disappeared and thought about her daughter words. Yes, since he came back she had felt happier. She had found herself craving his presence.

Maybe she was too afraid for nothing.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

[ameliaenya707]

We Cry Together

Chapter 4 - The beginning

Keigo stepped into the dark alley, azure eyes cutting through the dark and looking back at him paired with the red glow of the cigarette Dabi had hanging from his lips. Dabi narrowed his eyes at him before Keigo stepped closer and joined him in the shadows.

“You sure this place is safe to talk? The main street isn't that far off,” Keigo shivered slightly, the cold air biting his cheeks. His eyes scanned the surrounding area. Grimy brick walls caged them in and a rusty dumpster shoved in the corner of the alley, the buzzing of flies near it filling his hearing until Dabi spoke.

“We’re fine birdie, No one ever cares to come down here. These are just old abandoned apartments, no one has any reason to come down here,” Keigo ignored the bite to Dabi’s tone, his eyes focused on a poorly boarded-up apartment door. The screws were loose, he could probably rip the wood boards off with his hands. And Dabi was right, what reason would anyone need to come down here? He had put a lot of thought into his plan of getting you back, the only missing piece was to keep you.  He couldn’t bring you into his apartment, too risky. But…this place might do fine. He could get in there, clean it up a little, and keep you there until you saw things his way. Baby-proof it a little and make it more comfortable for you.

“Hey! Have you even been listening to what I’m saying, idiot-”

🪶

A soft breeze blew through your hair softly as you stood on the apartment balcony with your friend. She lazily jutted her hand out, cigarette box in her palm.

“M’ not going to start smoking just because of a stupid break-up Tori,” You chuckle softly as she rolls her eyes and stuffs the box back into the pocket of her sweatpants. She cared. In her own weird way. Lucky bitch had never gone through a breakup because she never really bothered with dating, more focused on her job. You envied that. You could see her run a hand through her hair from your peripheral, her eyes trained on the city below. 

“Just sayin',It’d do you some good…” Tori mumbled softly

“Don’t try to peer pressure me,”

“God, what are we in, middle school?” She barked out a laugh and you gave her a light shove. 

“Whatever loser, I’m gonna head to bed. Make sure you get some rest, Yeah?” Tori turned to softly ruffle your hair before opening up the sliding glass door that led back into her warm living room.

“Yeah yeah, I know…Night Kotori~” You could hear her groan at the usage of her full name before she slammed the door closed and huffed back to her room. You were childhood friends, growing up in Fukuoka near the ocean. Working at the same Temple as teens. She had stopped using her full name by the time she was sixteen but you had best friend privileges, so you could call her whatever you wanted without getting burned by her quirk. Her fire quirk was always so cool to you as kids, granted, every quirk is cool to a quirkless little girl. She was a year older and just had an aura of coolness. But realistically as you grew together her quirk became an inconvenience for her, overheating and burns growing more common. But hey atleast she didn’t need a lighter for her cigarettes. Her bad habits weren’t any of your business as long as she wasn’t dying or something. The night grew colder and the tea you brought out with you was getting cold too. You took one last breath of fresh air before turning around to grab your things and head back inside, but stopped by someone grabbing you from behind. A palm slapped over your mouth as panic shot through your body. You opened your mouth to bite the attacker before warm breath hit the shell of your neck.

“Try not to struggle too much, don’t want this to hurt too bad,"

🪶

Deeply he hated this. Despite how his brain screamed this was right, necessary, love. Wrong love. But love nonetheless. And as he tied your limp wrists to the headboard of the bed he understood why you left. He was proud though of how he managed to clean up the abandoned home. It was still dusty and the slightest creepy but it was a bit more comfortable and clean. The tables, counters and any other flat surfaces were wiped clean. He changed the bedsheets of the bedroom and proofed the room. Locks on the doors and windows, blankets he bought around the bed and plush pillows he sat you up against. Once he had you properly tied down he scooted away, sitting on the edge of the bed looking at you. So pretty. He didn't want to scare you too badly when you woke up so he made sure there was space between the both of you. The shot would only last an hour so you'd wake up soon. And when you did…he would make you see it his way. 

His body tenses as he hears you whimper softly, your eyes slowly opening and adjusting to the dark dusty room, the only light coming in through a grid like Shape from bars and wood over the windows. His eyes dart to your hands, fingers flexing as you try to move them before the rope restricts anything further. Your eyes meet his and for a moment it's calm. Quiet. Your eyes flood with panic and his wings poof up. 

“Hey, baby…"

More chapters

[vorish-wonderland]

You're really cold today... you really just want a nice snack to keep you warm... luckily, you find the exact person who can solve your problem! Now all you have to do is... convince him to let you do it...

Includes: soft/safe vore, semi-unwilling prey

★✦Nice And warm!✦★

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

It's so cold out today...

You could really use a nice, warm snack right now.

Nnnnm... but what could you get that is easily available?

"Hey, uh... you sure about this, Ortho? I-I could just send out the drone and pick up our order from the school store... w-we don't have to go out..."

There we go. Idia Shroud, the boy with fire for hair... he'd warm you up quick!

"Come on, big brother!! You have to get out sometimes! I know you like to stay inside but that isn't healthy!!" Ortho pouts.

"What if I get kidnapped by ghosts agaiiiin?!"

"That's why I'm here with you!"

The brothers enter the school store together... and you follow close behind.

The brothers pick up a manga box set, and you pick up a potion that both shrinks someone and can pretty much protect them from everything for about a day. Sam really does have everything, huh?

Both you and the brothers pay for your items and leave.

Alright, time to inquire.

"Hey, Ortho, can I steal your brother for today?" You ask, finally making yourself known to the two.

"Hm... are you gonna hurt him?"

"No."

"Are you gonna try to marry him?"

"No."

"Then I don't see why not!"

"WHAT?! ORTHO, YOU'RE JUST GONNA LET THEM TAKE ME LIKE THIS?!"

"You need to interact with people more, big brother! It's healthy!" Ortho pushed Idia towards you.

"I-I interact with people! I go to b-board game club meetings, r-right? A-and Muscle Red, w-we interact, e-even if it's just o-online!!" Idia seems desperate to just head back to his room. "And Ortho, w-we just picked up the full manga set of MGIATTSPCF20,000YITF! W-we were gonna read it together-!"

"We can read it tomorrow, big brother!!"

"Oh by the way Ortho I'm gonna eat him. Don't worry though! I'm gonna make sure he's safe!" You hand the robot child the potion you just bought. "Here's proof!"

Ortho looks over the bottle.

"Ok! But if you hurt Idia in any way, I'll surgically open you and remove my brother from your stomach, understand??" Ortho closes his eyes. You assume he's smiling, but you can't be sure because you can't see his mouth. Regardless, he looked cheery.

"I understand!" You grab Idia's hand and start to drag him off. "I'll bring him back to you later!"

"I'll bring our box set to your room, ok big brother? I'll be sure to keep it safe!!"

"Uh... alriiiight..." Idia sighs as you drag him off.

You bring Idia back to Ramshackle and feed him the potion. After a while, he's no bigger than the palm of your hand.

"H-hang on, before you do anything, w-why eat me of all people?!"

"Because I'm hungry and chilly. You look like you'll fill me up and warm me up."

"Y-you do realize my hair isn't real fire, right?"

"...whatever, you've already drank the potion." You gently pick up Idia. "In you go."

You place him in your mouth and swallow him.

"I feel like I watched something like this once... except it was a lot more violent... and you're fully clothed..." Idia sighs. "And I'm not gonna die, which I guess is a good thing? Meh..."

"Uh... ok. Anyways this is pretty nice and warm, even if your hair isn't real fire like you said... thanks for this!"

"You pretty much forced me into this but uh... no problem???"

[pasdasin]

Entanglement ch 7

levi x reader

summary: revaltions come to life

cw: hospital, wound, cursing, bad writing (didn't proof read)

an: omg finally done with finals and on spring break. curse u quater systems and sorry for not updating 😭

read under the cut

previous -- next

Levi stood in shock. The blood was seeping out of your wound slowly but the longer he stared he couldn’t move. He was going to loose you at this rate. Right when he got you back. Suddenly the door busted open and Hange looked at the sight in front of her. 

“Levi what are you doing? What happened?” Hange sprang into action trying her best to do a patch job with what they had available to them. Levi still couldn’t move. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. Suddenly he was slapped in the face.

“Pull your self together or she will die.” Hange yelled at him. Levi was finally pulled out of his trance. 

“She was shot. I’m going after them.”

“Levi, no, she needs a hospital. C’mon there is a infirmary in the capital.” Without another word, Levi grabbed his 3DM gear, grabbed your unconscious body, and left. Hange was left in the room, surrounded by your personal effects and a giant pile of blood. 

She quickly looked around before leaving the room. As she left her eyes lingered on a small box on the dresser near the room. It seemed like a jewelry box but with what little was inside it, it could hardly be called that. However, a small velvet box stood open, and inside was probably the nicest ring she had ever saw. Shaking her head, she left the room and gathered the rest of the squad, telling them that they had to leave. It was no longer safe.

----

On the surface the squad quickly rushed to the closest military infirmary and met up with Levi. He was standing next to a room, his eyes were lost in thought. Hange called out his name and he looked up. 

He was an entire mess. His eyes were bloodshot and red from constant rubbing. His perfectly manicured hair more resembled a bird's nest, and his shirt was covered in blood. Your blood.

“Levi,” Erwin breathed out. “You have to tell us what is going on. This isn’t like you at all.” Levi looked into the eyes of his closest companions. Biting the inside of his cheek, he slid down the wall behind him and sat, his legs close to his chest. 

“Please captain,” Eren said, a hint of urgency in his tone. “Y/n wouldn’t want this. How can you act like this?” Levi sent a glare to the titan shifter. 

“How dare you? I am your captain. You don’t even know her.”

“If you’re my captain then act like it!” Levi gritted his teeth. Standing up he walked over to Eren, a newfound fire in his eyes, before kicking him in the shin. Eren smiled through the pain, happy to see his captain finally act like himself. 

Suddenly a nurse came out of the room. She looked at the group in front of her before her eyes went wide in amazement. 

“Captain Levi,” She called out, pushing a hair behind her ear. “She is ready for you now.” Levi directed his attention to the nurse and headed straight into the room. The rest of the team followed him in, Armin acknowledged her before closing the door behind him. 

Inside you were sleeping soundly. From the way you were wrapped up, you were gonna make it. Levi moved towards the head of the bed and sat in the chair. He grabbed your hand softly before turning his attention to the people in the room. 

“I guess I should be honest with you guys now. Especially after everything that just occurred.” The rest of his squad got comfortable while he tried to find the right words. Never in all of his time knowing these people did he ever think that he would be forced to be so vulnerable, so open. He took a big breath in and decided to just be blunt. 

“Y/n is my fiance.” The room got so quiet after that, you could hear a pin drop. “When I joined the survey corps, I had left her in the underground. I was going to bring her aboveground when I was told she was murdered. I only just found out she was alive.” Another round of silence filled the room. No one was sure what to say. How could they find the words to comfort their captain? They just found out about this whole new side of him. They didn’t need to find the right words though, since in the moment after he told them the truth, you had woken up. 

[ranchracoon]

Devour Ch. 13: Celebration p.1

Your arms are numb, pins and needles cause excruciating pain but you do everything in your willpower not to move. Daniela is asleep on top of you with her face buried in your chest, Bela is on your left, and Cassandra on your right. However, the alarm on your clock has other plans, all three of the girls groan in annoyance until Cassandra reaches up and stops the ringing.

            You never knew just how needy all of them are until now as they rearrange back against your body, all of them tightening their hold on you. You are responsible to wake the daughters every morning so it wouldn’t hurt to sleep in a little longer. When Lady Dimitrescu talks to you that morning you answer carefully, and keep your face neutral, she doesn’t bring up her daughters again. While assisting their mother one of the daughters will drag you behind a closed door, or in Cassandra’s case, behind a painting to steal kisses.

            The morning of the celebration is different, there is energy and excitement in the air for the celebration tonight, even the girls can hardly contain themselves. Flies sputter around their forms, unable to remain solid for more than a few minutes. You go to the bathroom to freshen up for the day but when you come out the girls are gone, and replaced with an outfit wrapped in plastic with a large white box next to it. There’s a note on the top with familiar swirly hand writing on it.

            Wear this tonight for the celebration. No peeking until then. – love B, C, and D.

            You smile at the note, put it in your nightstand and set the box inside the closet for safe keeping. The outfit in plastic is your new uniform; you strip off the clothes from last night, and carefully put it on. The black pants fit on you perfectly, snug around the thighs and slightly loose around your calves, suspenders are included too. The clips are gold and the stretchy material the same shade of black as the pants with a golden stripe down the middle. They hang loosely against your legs as you button up the white, collared shirt all the way to the top. The neck doesn’t choke you like your old uniform, the sleeves are crisp and reach your wrists; your old one was too short in the arms and often got stuck on your forearms. You pull the suspenders over your shoulders, then button the vest on top, and admire how it curves over your breasts, rather than squish them.

The final touch is a blood-red bowtie, you haven’t worn a bow tie before and it takes longer than you wish to admit to figure out how to tie it. You notice no jacket present, and as you run your hands over the vest, you slip your fingers into the pocket and feel a piece of paper in it. Using the lantern in your room, you hold the note up to read it better. The handwriting is neat with large, looped letters but not cursive like how the girls write.

Here’s a uniform to get you through until I finish the others, I also have some casual wear for you as well. My sister requested that the material be ‘tear proof,’ which means you’ll need specific cleaning instructions. You’ll find them on the back of this note. - Donna

Underneath those words is sloppy handwriting, similar looking to that of a small child.

Thank you for playing with me! I can’t wait to see you again! - Angie

You laugh at the splots of ink and wrinkles on the bottom of the note where Angie had written. After you turn the paper over, you scan over the instructions before tucking the note with the other. As the drawer closes Lady Dimitrescu calls your name, it sounds close meaning she must be in the Opera Hall. You glance at the time, seeing it’s a quarter past breakfast, and that lights a fire under your feet. You sprint to the sound of Lady Dimitrescu’s voice, only slowing when you are within eyesight of her, you fix your new uniform and steady your breathing.

The lady stands in the middle by the piano, maids and other workers surround her as she gives them orders. All of them run off in a hurry, none of them looking at you or the lady as they leave. The lady turns to you as you approach, you respond by bowing deeply to her.

“Apologies my lady for my tardiness, I’m not used to a bowtie and was having some difficulties tying it.” You explain.

She waves her hand, swiping your excuse from the air, “never mind that now Y/N. As you know tonight is the celebration for Mother Miranda and her daughter Eva, and we have a lot to get done. My daughters are excited and you know how distracted they get when they are like that. I need you to control yourself enough to double check everything is ready then report to me in my chambers when done.”

You bow again, “of course my lady. I will make sure nothing is out of place.”

She faces away from you and you beam with excitement too, you fall straight back into the position you are very familiar with: being head maid. You’re running around the castle all day, taste testing that all the food is prepared properly, ensuring no dirt is present on walkways, aid in hanging decorations, and most importantly making sure fires are lit everywhere.

The sun lowers toward the horizon, guests begin to arrive and maidens are dressed in clean, freshly pressed uniforms to greet them all. You hurry to the lady’s chambers, brushing a droplet of sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before knocking on the door.

“​​Enter.” The Lady answers.

You push the door open to find the lady in front of her vanity in only a robe, you avert your eyes immediately.

“I’ve come to inform you that guests have started to arrive and everything is ready to go.”

“Thank you. Now come help me dress.”

Lady Dimitrescu points to a wrapped dress on her bed, you grab it while she puts on a black lace bra with matching underwear and garters that buckle around her thighs. You hide back a smirk at the matching set, curiosity makes you wonder who she is really getting dressed for. Definitely not Mother Miranda. Her dress is sleek and black with long, transparent trains that hang off the sleeves and it’s accompanied with a red corset. She steps into the dress while you climb up a step ladder and help her zip it up, then tighten the corset to her liking. She shakes the dress tail out so that it’s spread out behind her, then faces you so you can put on her signature, black gloves over her hands.

She keeps her hat off and instead allows her curls to breathe and stretch, they fall across her cheeks when she leans over the vanity to apply her red lipstick. The final touch is her house crest necklace which she hands to you, she pulls her hair to the side for you to clasp the necklace around her neck.

“Thank you Y/N. You may go get ready now, be down in the main hall within an hour. I do not want you to be tardy for Mother Miranda’s arrival.”

“Yes my lady.” You reply.

You bow and retreat to your own chambers, bathe off the sweat as fast as you can, your eyes flicking to the clock every few seconds to watch your time. You approach your closet and take the box out, setting it on your bed. You remove the lid, move the tissue back to reveal a dark navy and white suit. It’s the most beautiful article of clothing you’ve ever seen other than what Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters wear; and it’s all yours. Your hands tremble as you lift the surprisingly light suit, then lay everything out neatly on top of your bed. At the very bottom of the box is a brand new pair of leather shoes, if you had more time you would admire the detail of every piece of fabric.

First you put on your best pair of underwear and the only non-sports bra you have, then the white button up shirt. It doesn’t have the top two buttons; you think it’s a mistake so you feel around for them or any sign that buttons are supposed to be there. Instead, you feel the Dimitrescu crest embroidered on each point of the collar, your fingers trace the intricate design. That would explain why you didn’t see a tie with the suit, it’s to remain open and you are grateful that you have at least one bra that makes your cleavage pop.

Next is the navy-colored pants that hug every curve of your legs with just enough slack so that the pants don’t rise up too high when you sit. There is a black belt with a golden clip rather than suspenders, and you tighten it around your waist where the pants sit. The same-colored vest has six large, golden buttons that are parallel to each other, but only three are the actual buttons. The fabric is smooth and soft under your hands, ritualistically you brush them over the front of you then pick up the jacket. The left side of the jacket is embroidered with golden roses and thorns that shimmer in the flickering light. You tie the black leather shoes on first, button the single button on the jacket, and spray the perfume over your neck. 

Music can be heard all the way to your chambers, you grimace at how loud it’s going to be in the main hall. By the time you reach the courtyard there are more people gathered but the bulk of guests are in the main hall. The music is more tolerable than you thought, the live jazz band play their hearts out while dancers flood the floor. When the song ends everyone looks toward the foyer above you, you follow their gazes to find Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters.

Your heart stops, as does time. Bela is first, her golden hair down her shoulders with one lace braid circling her head like a crown. Her dress is red, with a slit up to her mid-thigh and golden embroidery flows around in swirls looking like a sea of red and gold. Her lips are red with speckles of glitter that reflect the light, accompanied with glitter over her eyes and cheeks. Cassandra is next, she has a golden suit, the jacket buttoned up to just above her navel, with a white button up underneath that is left unbuttoned at the top like yours. Her hair is braided and twisted into a circle in the back of her head, with azure jewels braided in. She gives you a smile, not her usual huntress smile, a genuine smile that is only enhanced by her golden lipstick. Then Daniela, she is radiant in a phthalo green dress that has a cut in a low V with a long trail behind her. Her hair is left down with a small, silver crown resting upon her head. She beams at you, her lips and the dusted eyeshadow are the same color as her dress, there’s reflections of silver within them.

Your mind wanders, that you are a canvas and their lips are the brushes that paint you in strokes of gold, green, and red. At the end of the stairs you wait, you hold your hand out to be the first one to greet them as they descend the stairs. Lady Dimitrescu offers her hand, you bow and kiss the back of her hand as she takes the final steps.

“You look beautiful as always my lady.” You compliment.

She nods her head to you, blinks her eyes slowly in acknowledgement then makes her way through the crowd of people who do the same as you. You can hardly contain your excitement when you take Bela’s hand, heat courses through your body when you kiss the back of her hand.

“Lady Bela, like a forest fire you’ve consumed my entire soul and heart. You look ravishing.”

“Save that sweet tongue for later.” She whispers back, then walks past you.

Your heart skips a beat again, goosebumps rise under your skin when you hold Cassandra’s hand. Her gaze pierces through you, the smell of trees pouring off her as you bow to kiss her hand.

“Lady Cassandra, you shine like the sun, and I am just a sunflower begging for your warmth.” You whisper against her hand.

When you look back up, a blush has made an appearance on her cheeks. She says nothing and simply smiles at you, but her eyes swell with admiration The second Daniela squeezes your hand, it’s like a lightning strike, the electrical currents course through your veins.

“You look amazing.” She whispers to you.

“Lady Daniela, you stole the words out of my mouth. Nothing written or spoken could describe the imprint you’ve made on my heart.” You whisper back.

Daniela giggles as you watch them greet guests, they follow in their mother’s wake through the crowd. The strong stench of fish passes by you, you glance over at the deformed man who walks by, eagerly asking for when Mother Miranda will arrive. You recognize him as Lord Moreau from his portrait in the church. You look around for any of the other lords but give up after some time from the sheer amount of people. The music starts up again and you too your way through the crowd, you use Lady Dimitrescu as your homing beacon knowing that the girls will be near her. Just as you suspect, the three of them turn their gaze to you, their faces hold happiness and excitement as they see you but quickly change to worry as you approach Lady Dimitrescu. The lady finishes her conversation with another woman before she looks down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes Y/N?” She asks, her voice softer than normal.

“Lady Dimitrescu, I would like to ask you for permission to dance with your daughters.”

She ponders your request, she purses her lips while in thought just like Daniela does, and now you know who she gets it from.

“Very well. Which one would you like to dance with?”

“All of them. A dance each.”

The muscles in her jaw flex with tension but you hold your ground, your eyes never leaving hers as they examine your face. You know she will question you about this in the morning, but now you only care about Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela.

“You have my permission to dance with my daughters.”

You bow your head, “thank you my lady.”

You swivel on your heels, approach Cassandra first and offer a hand to her. She happily takes it and you can feel her restrain herself from dragging you onto the dance floor. The song that plays is one you know by heart; you practiced it as a child in the village while watching the adults perform it. Cassandra follows your lead; your muscle memory comes in full swing as you never take your eyes off her. Your pair of hands are raised while you have your other hand on her waist and she has hers on your shoulder, your bodies twirl around the other dancers like they aren’t there. It’s only you, Cassandra, and the music that drowns the conversation around you into a dull roar.

“I wish I could kiss you right now.” Cassandra lowers her head closer to your ear so no others can hear you.

“Believe me, I want nothing more than to kiss you too, love. Judging from the look Lady Dimitrescu is giving me though, I take it I wouldn’t make it to morning.” You respond.

“I know she likes you, otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now. I want her to know about us so we can stop hiding, but also, I want to keep you all to myself.” She breathes in your smell before you feel her nonchalantly press her head against you and rub it.

“What was that for?” You laugh.

“We aren’t the only monsters here you know. I want everyone to know that you’re off limits, you might not be human but you still smell like one.”

You smile, tilting your head against her as she rubs against you again and the song ends with a final spin. The people around the dance floor clap as new dancers take the stage and Cassandra is replaced with Daniela. She also restrains herself; she’s tense as she approaches you but her eyes hold excitement. You wrap an arm around her waist and grip her hand as she does the same, the next song is a faster pace and unfamiliar to you. Daniela reassures you as she leads this time, you mimic her steps and the gestures of those who dance around you.

“Did you see who mother was talking to?” She asks with a giggle.

“I’m afraid I wasn't paying much attention, beautiful.”

“Look now.” She giggles again.

You look over her shoulder to see Lady Dimitrescu next to a regal woman who wears a purple dress with a golden shawl over her shoulders. She has dark brown hair that’s tied up and she’s smiling up at Lady Dimitrescu, there’s a faint blush on her cheeks even from this distance.

“Who is that?” You ask.

“The baroness of Hungary.” Daniela replies, “I don’t know much about her except from what I’ve read while snooping in mother’s office. Apparently, they’ve been corresponding for months now and I think mother is head over heels for her.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She called mother by her first name. The only other person allowed to do that is Mother Miranda.”

The surprise on your face makes Daniela giggle again, she spins away from you before twirling back into you. Lady Dimitrescu’s laugh roars over the crowd, it’s a deep, belly laugh that you’ve never heard before.

“I guess love really is in the air.” You state.

Daniela pecks a quick kiss against your cheek then presses her jaw against your head in the same manner Cassandra did. You sigh, lean against her as she leads you in the dance until it ends. Claps erupt once more in the main hall, and now Bela joins you. Unlike the other two, you face opposite directions with your right arm in a 90-degree angle against her left arm that is also held the same way. You walk in circles with your arms together, looking at each other before you switch and bow, then conduct the dance officially.

“You look absolutely stunning, my dear.” You compliment.

“As do you. Daniela chose the color, Cassandra chose the cut, and I chose the details. I’m especially appreciative of the view I get, you should wear your shirts open like that more often.”

Heat coats your cheeks and you clear your throat, “if your mother allowed it then I just might.”

Bela smiles at you, leans down close to your ear, close enough you feel her breath inside your ear.

“Your suit would look even better on my floor.” She purrs.

“Only if your dress is next to it.” You quip back.

 Bela giggles and you dance with her in comfortable silence, this dance requires the two of you to be further from each other but each time you come together she brushes her head against your neck. When the music and claps stop, Lady Dimitrescu holds up her wine glass and taps it to get everyone’s attention. People from the courtyard trickle into the hall to listen better as the lady clears her throat.

            “Thank you everyone for joining us this evening, and now the woman everyone has been waiting for. Mother Miranda and her daughter Eveline.”

Continue Reading

[insertsickusername13]

General concept: Brooke comforts Jake after the fire

Word count: 1969

Warnings: kind of alludes to suicide, but it's like... very implied and not at all said

Jake's apartment is probably more important to Brooke than it is to Jake. After November 1st, when she woke up to her parents shaking her awake at 8 am telling her something terrible's happened. Are you friends with Jake Dillinger? she's forced to function under the constant, ineffable, unavoidable assumption that no matter what she does—how kind she is, how happy she can be—something terrible is going to happen again, and this time there is going to be no boy to pick up from the hospital, no wheelchair to help him set up, no trips to the mall to buy countless flowers for Rich. Only black dresses and rainy skies and silent lunch tables. 

The apartment is proof he's alive. He's going to recover. He isn't being taken by social services and isn't moving in with his Aunt in Virginia. He's here. He's safe. She still has her best friend (aside from, of course, Chloe, but that's a different situation entirely).

Jake doesn't appreciate it as much. He's silent as his landlord hands him the key with a pitying 'good luck' smile, silent as they sit in the pre-furnished living room, Brooke on the overstuffed couch and Jake in his wheelchair. Brooke's planning out ways to make the place Jake's: posters on the walls, pictures on the shelves. Repaint a couple of walls and redo the beach-themed bathroom. Her voice is so loud it echoes through the apartment.

"The windows are nice, the curtains are definitely giving off unfulfilled middle age mother though, don't you think?"

She turns to Jake for approval, smiling brightly at her own joke, only to be met with a blank, red-eyed stare and delayed laugh.

She decides getting him out of the apartment is probably for the best. Maybe it's just too stuffy, or too fast. He just needs a distraction—some time to process everything. Nothing terrible is going to happen as long as she stays by his side.

She can just talk it away. She can do his nails, buy more flowers. She'll paint the walls yellow and waft away every cloud in the sky until the world is bright with sunshine. Just as long as nothing terrible happens. 

She takes him to the mall first, thinking perusing the isles of Ikea might excite him. Pretty furniture, pretty setups. 

"How do you feel about these 'yellow star twinkling' fairy lights? The LED strips look cheap, right? So these are definitely better. But the LEDs change color, so...?"

Brooke holds the two options up in front of her. There's an entire shelf of other lights behind her, but the rest are erring on the side of too feminine, and she has the feeling that even a Jake who no longer has Rich constantly chastising every decision that isn't 'manly' enough won't appreciate them.

Jake points silently to a box behind her, barely doing more than lifting a finger. Ecstatic to finally get a reaction out of him, Brooke spins wildly to see a box of butterfly-shaped lights. 

Oh. Maybe it wasn't too feminine, after all. She notes that for later. 

Eagerly, she picks up the box. "These?"

He nods. She tries not to look at him too long as she skips over to their cart. If she studies him for any more than a moment she'll be forced to confront the bags under his eyes and the glazed-over, empty look in his irises, either a result of the medications or the knowledge he'll never be able to run like he used to or see Rich the same way.

"Great! Are we gonna look at posters too? Personally, I never thought of you as a poster guy, but I might be wrong. Maybe polaroids? Or paintings! Paintings would be awesome."

She ends up buying post-it notes. She lost Jake somewhere between the desks and beds, and by the time they finally reach another section of the store with more bedroom decor, he's only responding with sharp, one-word answers meant to slice her away into submission and eventual surrender. The terror of something going wrong keeps her smile on her face and a pep in her step, and eventually she gets him to say he wants neon pink post-it notes. 

He doesn't. But it's an answer, and it's clear on his face he thinks that might be enough to get her to finally leave him alone. 

It isn't.

She sits crisscross on his bedroom floor once they get back to the apartment, squished in the far corner between his empty dresser and equally as empty desk.

"I bet we could paint it," Brooke offers as she sits next to the splintering wood of his dresser. Jake hums from his bed, having reverted back to nonverbal answers. He's laying on his back, hands clasped over his stomach, legs propped up on a pile of pillows Brooke had bought at Bed Bath & Beyond. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye, resisting the urge to flurry over and roll him over onto his side, because what if he takes too many pills? What if he overdoses? What if he does it on purpose? What if something terrible happens?

Her grip on her pen tightens as she writes you're amazing!! on one of the post-it notes and sticks it to the edge of the corner.

On the next, what do you call a tower of cats?? —a meow-tain!!

You're really brave!!

I love you

It'll get better

A cartoon sun. A flower. A llama. 

It's nothing. It's stupid. Even someone as naive and innocent as Brooke can identify just how little it will help someone in Jake's situation, but her hands shake as she writes you can do this!! and she realizes, blinking back tears, that this isn't for Jake at all. 

She takes a small, shaky breath. She's as quiet as she can be, not ashamed that she's about to cry but knowing she can't in front of Jake. He's the one who lost his house and best friend. It isn't her place to cry, to be scared. 

But she can still see her parents' faces as they told her he was in the hospital, can still hear her mother screaming as she sped through a stop light on the way there, vision so blurred the red light almost looked like the blinding sirens on an ambulance. She can't let anything terrible happen again.

A sob escapes her—short and scared. She immediately tries to muffle it with her hand but it must be too late. She hears rustling from the bed behind her and the sound of Jake's raspy voice saying, "...Brooke?"

She swallows another sob as she turns, a sunflower smile on her face. 

"Yeah?" she says, and it sounds so simple, so pure that she sees Jake doubt himself for a second. The flicker of confusion on his face at the distinctive difference in her smile and posture from the way it had been a second ago. She tries to smile wider—better he be confused than concerned. He already has too much on his mind, so much that it's spilling over the edges in the form of flashing nightmares and constricting lungs (she knows, even if he won't say it). 

"Are you okay?"

It might be the first full sentence he's said since the fire.

Brooke gets up from where she's sitting and needlessly wipes her hands on her jeans as if ridding her palms of the scary feelings creeping into the sunny spots of her soul. 

"Great! I'm a little hungry though, maybe we should head out and get some pinkberry? Or pancakes. I'm kind of in the mood for those. Maybe IHop?"

Just to avoid looking at him, she takes out her phone and opens google maps, scrolling through all the options for restaurants as if she isn't nauseated by the thought of not being able to take Jake anywhere too crowded because the noises might send him spiraling in a way it never would have before. 

She can take him for ice cream in the park if he refuses IHop. Make sure he eats at least something, even if it's unhealthy. He might like the cold of it, the complete opposite of the fire.

Jake nods and sits up a little straighter. He opens his mouth, intention clear in every movement. Brooke watches him carefully and braces for rejection. She can make something small here. Even if it's just a snack. She won't take the excuses, won't falter even though she knows it must be difficult for him to comprehend the idea of continuing on with life without Rich at his side.

But Jake says, "Can I have a hug?"

Brooke's not sure she wants him to feel just how uneven her breathing's becoming, but if it makes him feel safe, if it makes him happy, even if it's only for a moment, then she'll do what it takes. 

She sits on the edge of his bed and hovers, unsure if he really means this, especially because the burns (not nearly as bad as Rich's) on his forearms have yet to fully heal, but the second she's within reach he pulls her into his hold, arms circled around her waist and face burrowed into her hair. She can feel his lips trembling against the skin of her neck as he shifts so she's on his lap, as close to him as he can get her. 

He's shaking. His fingernails dig into the crook of her shoulder blades and she takes in a small, sharp breath suppressed by just how tightly he's holding on to her. With nothing left to do, she cradles his head against her chest and runs soothing hands through his unwashed hair. 

"It's okay," she whispers against his hair. She tries to kiss the top of his head but he's hanging on with such a grip she can't shift without disturbing him, so she kisses thin air and pretends he feels it. 

"I don't—" he chokes, and it takes Brooke squeezing him to get him to breathe again. "I dunno if I can come back from this one, Brooke."

Something terrible's going to happen. 

"What's that supposed mean?"

Her voice is trembling. She closes her eyes to try and stop the saltwater from burning. 

Jake nuzzles closer as he says, muffled by her shirt but not by sobs, "I could deal with my parents. Could—could handle living on my own. But he's—how could he—?"

How could he?

She knows Jake means it as a genuine question, but when the words wrap around her tongue she feels her stomach clench with an anger she's never come close to experiencing before. How could he do this?

"I don't know," she says aloud, "I really don't know, but it's gonna be okay. I promise."

"How?" 

And this time she can hear the tears in his voice, feel them on her shirt and in her hair, a stain against her skin she'd rather tattoo onto her than let forever reside alone on Jake's face. They're made of poison. His words are made of poison, and she wants them spat against her shoulder just to stop them from festering in his mouth.

"Well," she says. The lump in her throat tries to stop the words and fails. "We're going to decorate your apartment, and we're going to rehearse for the play, and we can buy Rich more flowers. And he's gonna wake up and explain why he did it, and you don't have to forgive him, but at least you'll hear him say he doesn't hate you, that there's some misunderstanding. And—and I don't know, but I promise— I promise you, I'm gonna make it okay."

He tries to pull away from her, but she has to hold him still for a moment longer to wipe the tears off her face before he has the chance to see them. When he does finally pull back to look at her, his face is puffy and swollen. 

"Really?"

"Really. Really, really, really. Nothing terrible's ever going to happen to you again."

---

i rlly told someone to draw richjake inspired by safe and sound by t swift then decided to fully take rich out of the picture and write brooke and jake instead. btw go listen to safe and sound i stared at the ceiling for like half an hour listening to it then sat up and wrote this. hope u enjoyed!! it's sad. I'm sad. Their relationship is great.

[greatdragonorion]

In the Court of the King

The jury sat in the box, shifting in their chairs and glancing at the exit. All eyes pointed towards the king who sat in the chair lined with jewels that glistened under the LEDs. Frowns lined each of their faces. They say you’re supposed to have an unbiased jury, but when it is against your ruler, is it even possible to?

The clock struck three and yet the plaintiff was nowhere to be seen. The judge looked at her watch, the clock, then the watch again. 

The king’s face grew a smirk. “Looks like the supposed accuser is too afraid to face me.”

The doors burst open, all eyes on the figure. He hurried to his chair and tossed a heap of papers onto the table. He tried to sort the monster, though gave up as it grew larger. He adjusted his tie, though that proved fruitless to mask the mess of oil on his shirt.

“Sorry I’m late, the taxi driver’s horse died so I had to walk instead,” huffed the man. “Anyways, let’s get on with the case of Lord Heffer of Heidenburg, I don’t want to make this go on any longer than it should.”

“If this is the guy, then this will be quick!” Laughed the King.

“Yes it will, my Lord,” replied the man. “Though, please just call me the Kingslayer”

The crowds looked at each other and chuckled.

“Let us begin!” The judge banged her gavel.

The “Kingslayer” sorted through a handful of papers. He threw a few here, there, on the floor, in the air, mumbling throughout. The Jury watched with an awe that rivaled children watching monkeys throw their shit at the zoo. How could you not stare? Newspapers talked about the man who brought down monarchies and yet here he is still wearing breakfast.

He pulled out a paper from the pile, “Ah, here we go! I would like to bring your attention to Article 8, Sub-Article 4, of the International Regulations and Rulings of Monarchies, which states the following…” The man squinted at the paper, “‘No king is entitled to the collection of more than the livings of any fellow person or beast.’ Did I read that right? I sure hope I did.”

“Yes, I am aware hobbit. What about it?” Lord Heffer remarked.

“I have heard word that you did not follow this agreement.”

“That is a lie. I would never do that.”

The Kingslayer laughed, “Never?”

“Never.”

“So you wouldn’t lie about the war?”

The king’s face hardened, “No, never.”

“Or the unwanted assault against the poor?”

“Propaganda created by my enemies.”

“Or the hanging of innocent protesters?”

Fire burned across the King’s face and smoke billowed from his ears. “What are you suggesting sir!?”

The Kingslayer stood up, looked to the bench that watched with interest, and gestured to the king. “As we can see, Lord Heffer has violated the agreement not once but on numerous occasions. This man has besmirched the name of the kingdom and is undeserving of the role of king!”

The anger faded from Lord Heffer’s face and was replaced with a smirk. “Very good claims sir, but I’m afraid there is no proof of these crimes. No documents of it remain after the great fire a few weeks prior. Such a shame that hearsay is not allowed in court.”

The doors burst forth once more and stumbling through came yet another stack of papers with a lady behind them. The jury stared, the judge stared, the kingslayer stared, but the Lord Heffer stared the most. The papers fell upon the king’s table, charred and ripped.

“I brought the documents, my liege!” The lady exclaimed with utmost excitement.

“Did you make sure there was enough room on the pages for another name?”

The lady chuckled nervously and glanced at the Judge. “They were in that safe you had me install in case of emergency, my Liege.”

The king sat in silence.

“What do these recovered documents say?” The Kingslayer asked.

“They list every single…”

Lord Heffer coughed.

“...person’s address. This is just census information”

“May I read them?” The judge requested.

“Absolutely not! These are for royal eyes only. You are not of a high enough position,” Lord Heffer challenged.

The judge looked at the king, the clock, which, sadly, had hardly moved, sighed, looked to the heavens, and muttered. “Your Highness, this is the royal court.”

The scribe grabbed the stack, eyes glazed toward the king, never looking away, and handed the stack to the Judge. The judge pulled them away but the lady’s arms came with it. The judge tugged the hands free.

“What do they say, my judge? Surely, they don’t violate the law?” A smile grew along the Kingslayer’s face.

The court went silent as her face grew pale. The clock screamed as it ticked away. She raised her head to face the Kingslayer and shook. “Nothing good.”

“Perfect.”

[dzthenerd490]

File: X-Files S1 E8 Ice

SCP#: AAQ

Code Name: Murder Parasites

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: The four samples of SCP-AAQ are kept in separate biohazard canisters and stored within a small biohazard box. The box is kept in a freezer at Site-AC within the Level 2 area of the Biohazard Labs. Any testing with SCP-AAQ must be approved by at least one Level 3 Foundation staff member. 

In the event of a containment breach SCP-AAQ is not to be moved from its location. Instead, the motion detection explosive on the freezer containing SCP-AAQ and other dangerous pathogens stored in there, will be activated. the explosive will only be turned off AFTER it’s confirmed the containment breach has been completely delt with. 

Description: SCP-AAQ is a parasitic worm like organism capable of infecting the host and filling them with hyper aggression, paranoia, increased survival instincts, and random murderous impulses. SCP-AAQ attaches itself to the posterior cervical area of the spine. Attaching to the spine allows the worm to feed on the numerous chemicals of the brain including acetylcholine, which regulates aggression and improves memory. 

SCP-AAQ is anomalous in behavior, in that it has no desire for infection and reproduction like a normal parasite, only self-preservation. Should two SCP-AAQ instances exist in the same body they will kill one another so that the survivor gets the host. Though more often than not this just leads to the complete annihilation of both instances. Ironically, this shows that the best cure to SCP-AAQ infection is to simply become infected with another and have the two kill each other. However, none of this is to say that SCP-AAQ is not infectious, the blood of the host is typically filled with thousands of SCP-AAQ eggs, naturally leading to exposed wound and blood infection.

Any vertebrate can be infected by SCP-AAQ, but humans have proven the most dangerous hosts as they are excellent at hiding their infection due to still retaining human intelligence along with the heightened aggression and paranoia. Surprisingly SCP-AAQ can survive and even thrive in sub-zero temperatures being able to breed and infect faster in such a state, how this is possible is unknown. Testing has shown that unfortunately hot temperatures do nothing to weaken the parasite, though like all living things it hates fire. Its anomalous properties as well as DNA testing has led to the theory that SCP-AAQ is of extraterrestrial origin and thus is why its biology and behavior doesn't match any parasite found on earth.

SCP-AAQ was discovered in 1993, when a research outpost at [data expunged], Alaska went radio silent after strange reports of violence. Due to the environment and high possibility of danger Mobile Task Force Delta-14 “Winter Wonderland” was deployed. However, upon infiltration they encountered Persons of Interest: Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. Please see Addendum X-14 for details.

***

Addendum X-14

The following is a recording of the four MTF Deta-14 units as they enter the outpost after being transported by a MFWF-13 "Mammoth". All Delta 14 units are armed with temperature nullification suits, bullet-proof armor over it, and Foundation assault rifles, with sample containment cases.

Recording Begins

D1: Alright! Entering the outpost now! Move! Move! Move!

Delta-14 units storm the interior finding all the lights out and no one in sight. D1 through D4 spread out to check the area faster, upon doing so D3 stumbles upon Person of Interest: Fox Mulder standing over a corpse. there is also Person of Interest: Dana Scully and two other civilians.

D3: Shit! All of you, hands up right now!

Dr. Hodge: its him! Shoot him! He's infected!

Agent Mulder: No, I'm not infected! It was one of them that killed him!

D3: All of you shut the fuck up! D1 this is D3, come in! I got multiple civilians here and a dead body. Possibly caused by the anomaly!

D1: Copy that D3, heading your way now.

All four Delta-14 units enter the room and order Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, and the two other civilians to go to the other side of the room. D2 the medic goes over to the body to examine him.

D2: This was a murder, not an anomaly.

Dr. Hodge: Yes, it was Mulder that killed him, shoot him before he kills us.

D4: shut up idiot!

D3: He's not wrong thought it was definitely one of them. Though we have no idea which it was.

D1: We don't have time for a murder mystery, we need to find the anomaly.

Dr. Hodge: I'm telling you Mulder's infected! Kill him!

Agent Mulder: It was one of you! you must have killed him!

D1: All of you shut up! I don't want to hear another word... wait, did you say Mulder?

Fox Mulder and Dana Scully look at one another before Fox Mulder addresses the Delta-14 units.

Agent Mulder: Yeah, that's me, Fox Mulder.

D1: Shit, keep these idiots here, I need to make a call.

D2 and D4 raise their rifles at the four to keep them still while D1 exist the room.

D1: Command this is D1, we got Person of Interest: Fox Mulder here, please advise.

Command: Copy that D1, Fox Mulder is not to be harmed in any way due to his possible connections to Group of Interest: The Syndicate. Additionally, if he has a red-haired woman with him that is Person of Interest: Dana Scully. Ensure that Fox Mulder and Dana Scully do not encounter the anomaly in any way.

D1: Copy that command, D1 out.

D1 then returns to the room.

D1: Alright, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, I need you both to come with me.

Dr. Hodge: Wait no listen to me he's infected!

D4: How many times do we have to tell you to shut the fuck up?!

Dr. Hodge: God man it you damn FBI agents knew about this didn't you! These military guys are your buddies and they're here to get you out while you cover it all up! Damn all of you!

D4: I said shut up!

D4 hits the Dr. Hodge in the stomach with the butt of his rifle, however upon doing so Dr. Da Silva starts screaming erratically and lunges on him. She attempts to steal his gun, but he easily pushes her off. She tries to get back up but D4 shoots her in the head killing her instantly.

D4: Ugh, what the fuck was wrong with that bitch!

D3: Ugh, what the hell is that?

SCP-AAQ can be seen wiggling out of Dr. Da Silva's forehead where D4 shot her, it thrashes around. Until D2 grabs it with some tweezers, then places it in a containment capsule and into his containment case.

D2: I'm guessing this was the anomaly.

D3: A worm that makes people go berserk? That's new.

Dr. Hodge: you killed her... you killed her without hesitation you fucking monster...

D4: Oh my god shut up! She was trying to kill me, and in case you didn't notice she had a fucking worm in her head!

D2: Uh guys, how do we know they aren't infected?

Agent Scully: We're not, if we were then we would be showing signs of aggression and paranoia by now.

Dr. Hodge: You fucking murders... the government covers up everything with murder...

D4: ... This guy is definingly acting pretty weird.

Agent Mulder: No he's not infected it was only one person who was infected, he couldn't be infected.

Dr. Hodge: Your infected! I know your infected, you have to be!

D4: Better safe than sorry.

D4 then shoots Dr. Hodges in the head, killing him instantly. Dana Scully is horrified by the sight while Fox Mulder remains silent.

D1: Alright that's enough killing. Look around for any other samples and let's get the hell out of here.

Recording Ends

After a few blunders, the Delta-14 units contained samples from the corpses and an infected dog found later. Afterwards Fox Mulder and Dana Scully were escorted out of the outpost and to the nearest airport. After being dropped off, Fox Mulder tried to get answers out of the Delta-14 units, but they ignored his every question and left the area in as fast as they could. Foundation agents disguised as flight attendants boarded the same plane as Fox Mulder and Dana Scully to drug them with Class G Amnestics. The drugs worked on Dana Scully but were of minimal effect on Fox Mulder. This has raised his Watch List level from 2 to 3. 

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