#Love and Care

[d-z20]

Breaking Point

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Agatha goes up against the Scarlet Witch in a fight and refuses to back down until the end, no matter what it may cost her. Her injuries are severe and you tend to her them, providing comfort into the night

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, hurt (A physical & R emotional but not by each other), whole lotta comfort, protective reader

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Fic is based off this request. I should clarify that I actually don't watch MMA so I'm really sorry if there's inaccuracies, I gave myself a crash course for Heavy Hits so I'm hoping it's all okay.

AO3 | Master List

The atmosphere is tense

The lights in the arena shine brightly, casting a dramatic glow over the octagonal cage at the centre. The crowd roars as “The Scarlet Witch” is announced, Wanda Maximoff striding confidently into the ring. Her crimson gear matches the fierce energy in her eyes. Across the ring, Agatha Harkness, your girlfriend, is a vision of defiance.

It’s deafening, the crowd’s energy crackling like electricity in the air. You stand just outside the octagonal cage, gripping the metal fencing as though it might somehow hold you upright. The referee is giving final instructions, but your eyes are locked on Agatha. She stands tall, her lean frame wrapped in a sleek purple sports bra and matching compression shorts, her hands taped beneath her open-finger gloves. Her dark hair is pulled back tightly into a braid, leaving no distractions. She looks lethal—confident and determined.

But you know her better than anyone. Under her stoic expression, there’s always a flicker of doubt before a match, one she’d never admit to. As her partner in and out of the gym, you’ve seen her highs and her lows. And this fight? This one feels different. Facing Wanda Maximoff is like stepping into a storm. Wanda has a reputation: precision, aggression, and devastating power.

You’re here as part of Agatha’s cornermen. Not just her girlfriend but her trainer, sparring partner, and the person she trusts most to see her through battles like these. It’s your role that allows you to stand so close to the cage. Still, you hate being this near. You hate feeling so helpless.

“Let’s go, Agatha!” You shout as the bell rings, your voice almost lost in the roar of the crowd.

The fight begins cautiously. Wanda moves like a predator, light on her feet, her red-and-black shorts glinting under the arena lights. Her punches come fast, jabs testing Agatha’s defences. Agatha responds in kind, her kicks snapping out sharply, keeping Wanda just out of reach. For a moment, it looks even. They exchange blows, neither landing anything decisive. Your heart races every time Agatha ducks or blocks a strike—so far, so good.

But as the first round wears on, Wanda’s strategy becomes clear. She isn’t just fighting to win; she’s fighting to break Agatha down. Her strikes grow heavier, targeting Agatha’s ribs and legs. Agatha manages to return fire, her high kick glancing off Wanda’s temple, making the redhead stumble. You surge with hope, pounding the cage wall in support.

“Beautiful! Keep her on the ropes, Aggie!” you yell.

But Wanda recovers too quickly. She counters with a vicious combo—an uppercut followed by a low kick that makes Agatha’s stance falter. The bell rings to signal the end of the first round, and you rush to her corner.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, your hands gentle as you wipe sweat from her face with a cool towel.

“I’m fine,” she says, but her breathing is laboured, and you can see the faint beginnings of a bruise forming on her ribs. “She hits like she’s trying to kill me, though.”

“Stick to the plan. Keep moving. Don’t let her back you into the cage,” you say firmly, holding her gaze. “You’ve got this.”

The second round is brutal. Wanda turns up the aggression, landing a spinning kick that sends Agatha staggering. You clench your fists, shouting at the top of your lungs, willing her to keep going. Agatha fights back fiercely, landing an elbow that opens a small cut above Wanda’s eye. But it isn’t enough to slow her down. By the end of the round, Agatha is clearly hurting. Her breathing is ragged, and she’s clutching her side.

“Let me call it,” you plead as the medics check her during the break. “Agatha, you’ve done enough.”

“No,” she says sharply, her eyes meeting yours. “I’m finishing this.”

The third and final round begins, and you hold your breath. Agatha gives everything she has, landing a solid right hook that makes Wanda stumble. For a moment, you dare to hope. But Wanda is relentless. She unleashes another devastating combo—a liver shot, followed by a spinning backfist that sends Agatha crumpling to the mat. The referee steps in immediately, waving Wanda off and calling a technical knockout.

You don’t wait for permission; as soon as the match is over, you’re in the cage. The sight of her lying there, blood trickling from her lip and her face already swelling, breaks your heart. She’s clutching her ribs, her breaths shallow and ragged.

“Agatha, my love, I’m here,” you say, your voice trembling, dropping to your knees beside her. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Her eyelids flutter open, and she manages a weak smile. “I totally won that, didn’t I?”

“Always the joker,” you whisper, brushing her damp hair back. “You fought like hell, sweetheart.”

With the help of the medical team, you carefully lift her, her weight pressing against you. Her arm is draped over your shoulders, and you wrap your arm securely around her waist. Every step out of the cage is agonising, her quiet whimpers slicing through you.

Back in the locker room, you lay her down gently on the physio bed. The medics confirm a fractured rib and multiple bruises but assure you it isn’t life-threatening. As soon as they leave, you stand at her side, holding her trembling hands.

“Agatha, why do you do this to yourself?” you ask, your voice breaking as you clean her up. She hisses in pain when the antiseptic touches her skin, but she doesn’t complain.

“Because I love it,” she says softly. “And because I have you to patch me up.”

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, but your touch is gentle as you bandage her ribs and ice her swollen cheek.

—

The drive home is quiet, the weight of the night pressing heavily on both of you. Agatha leans against the car window, her face pale beneath the faint streetlights. Her breath hitches every time you hit a bump, and each sound twists like a knife in your chest. You’ve never felt so desperate to wrap her in safety, to shield her from the pain she insists on enduring for the sport she loves.

When you finally pull into the driveway, you turn off the engine and sit for a moment, just looking at her. Her eyes are closed, her brow slightly furrowed even in rest. You reach over, gently brushing your fingers over her cheek. She stirs at the touch, her lips curving into a faint smile.

“Caught staring?” she murmurs, her voice hoarse but teasing.

“As usual,” you reply softly. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll carry you inside,” you insist.

“You’re ridiculous,” she says, but there’s no bite in her words, only affection.

“I don’t care,” you reply. “You’re not walking.”

Despite her protests, she lets you carry her up the driveway, the weight of her in your arms a grounding reminder that she’s still here, still whole despite the bruises and fractures. You settle her carefully onto the couch in the living room, arranging pillows around her and draping a blanket over her lap. She sighs as she sinks into the cushions, her body finally relaxing a fraction.

“Stay,” she whispers, her eyes fluttering open to find yours. “Don’t run off.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assure her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But you need food, Aggie. You haven’t eaten since before the fight.”

She grumbles something unintelligible, but the corner of her mouth quirks up as you disappear into the kitchen. You rummage through the fridge and cupboards, settling on her favourite comfort food—a simple grilled cheese sandwich with a cup of warm tomato soup. It’s nothing fancy, but you know it’s exactly what she’ll want.

When you return, her eyes light up at the sight of the tray. “You spoil me,” she says, her voice laced with affection.

“Rotten,” you tease, kneeling beside her as you set the tray down on the coffee table. “Now, eat. Slowly.”

She obeys, though her hands tremble slightly as she leans forward to pick up the sandwich. You watch her carefully, ready to step in if she needs help. Between bites, she keeps glancing at you, as if grounding herself in your presence.

Once she’s finished, you clear the tray and return with a glass of water and the prescribed pain medication. She tries to wave you off when you fuss over her, but you catch the way her eyes soften every time you adjust her blanket or tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Movie or book?” you ask once she’s settled again, her head leaning back against the cushions.

“Book,” she says after a moment of thought. “Something soft. Something... distracting.”

You nod, disappearing into the small shelf by the window. You pick a collection of short stories about witches you know she loves; its worn cover is a testament to how many times you’ve read it together. Returning to her side, you slide onto the couch, gently easing her to lie back against you. She winces slightly as she shifts, her body pressing into yours, but once she’s settled, her sigh is one of contentment.

“Comfy?” you murmur, wrapping your arm carefully around her waist, mindful of her ribs.

“Perfect,” she whispers, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

You begin to read, your voice soft and steady as you let the rhythm of the words wash over you both. Agatha’s breathing slows, her body melting into yours as you turn each page. Occasionally, she murmurs a comment about a line she likes, her voice laced with sleep.

By the time you reach the third story, her eyes are closed, her head tucked beneath your chin. You let the book fall to your lap, your hand shifting to stroke her hair gently. The tension from earlier in the night begins to ebb away, replaced by a warmth that feels like home.

—

Later, as the night deepens, you coax her into the bedroom. She protests faintly, her voice slurred with sleep, but you’re firm. “You’ll rest better in bed,” you say, kissing her forehead as you guide her to the mattress.

You tuck her into bed, piling pillows behind her to keep her comfortable. She looks so small, so fragile, and it breaks your heart all over again. You climb in beside her, pulling her carefully into your arms.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I hate making you worry.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” you say, stroking her hair. “Just... let me hold you, okay? I need to feel you’re here.”

She shifts, pressing her weight into you, her head resting on your chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers. “You’re stuck with me.”

You hold her tightly, the warmth of her body melting away the fear and tension that have gripped you all night. She’s here, safe in your arms, and you’ll never let her go.

To anon who requested it: I hope you enjoyed :)

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Pesky Period Pains

Prompt: Cramping Pain

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: you had managed to stave off periods but you could only do that for so long. But its very hard to hide things in the compound especially from your girlfriends.

TW: pain medicine, blood, period, cramps, bleeding on the bed (idk if that a warning or not lol), non-sexual nudity, Reader has their clothes removed (not in a bad way though don’t worry … you’ll see), hiding injuries / sickness, slight angst,

A/n whats this? A fic without vomiting for once? Crazy.

Curled up in bed the day had been going well until you realised you took to long to get more of your birth control. Your doctor had put you on birth control in your early teens before you became and avenger, your cramps being too painful for you to function and resulting in you missing a-lot of school. But you ran out last week and your ADHD had been kicking your ass lately so you forgot about the much needed trip to the chemist. Thinking you could just go tomorrow as its not like your period would appear over night. wrong.

Nat and Wanda were training in the gym like they did every Tuesday while you slept in. But when you realised with the first pang of pain in your midsection that it was a little too late for the birth control to stave off the period pains, you groaned. stuffing your face back into your pillow, before swallowing the urge to scream in frustration. you got up and threw on a pad before getting dressed quickly. you were craving chocolate. you could survive the cramps until after breakfast, and you couldn’t take painkillers on an empty stomach.

you had just finished drowning your pancakes in chocolate syrup and were not throwing back the tablets and some water when your girlfriends arrived. Nat smiled widely and came over to kiss you and hug you. “Detka,” you groaned, “your all gross and sweaty.” nat squeezed you in the hug chuckling before planting a kiss on your forehead. Wanda didn’t seem as happy. she sensed your discomfort before she even made it into the door. to be honest she sensed it from the gym, feigning exhaustion in favour of ending training early to check on you.

“what were you doing before we got here?” Wanda asked, hands crossed over her chest.

“making pancakes.” you shrugged, hiding a grimace as it jostled your midsection.

“i saw you put something in your mouth, Y/n don’t lie to me.” she was more concerned than angry but it did come across that way to you.

“i. was. eating. my. pancakes. Wanda.” you grit out, glad it seemed more like annoyance than the fact another cramp had hir rather hard.

“whatever.” Wanda dismissed angrily walking to get herself some pancakes. Nat frowned, normally Wanda was really sweet with you, only ever stern if you were being stubborn. she shrugged at you and followed Wanda to get some breakfast, only having had her pre workout shake so far. you didn’t wait for them, quickly finishing your pancakes and going to take a shower.

the girls frowned at your empty place when they returned and Wanda sighed. “somethings up with her nat i can sense it.”

meanwhile you stepped under the warm water, watching the red circle the drain and letting the heat relax your muscles. when another cramp hit you rested your head on your arm which steadied you against the wall. you didn’t want to risk leaving blood in your shared bathroom knowing nat was see it with her spy training, she noticed everything. Wanda would just freakout if she knew you were bleeding but didn’t know where from. And most importantly you didn’t want to bother them with your problems, feeling you were being a bit too needy lately having been sick the week before last.

you had come back to your old room, the one you stayed in before moving it with your girls. it was still your space. your gaming computer was still here, your switch and all your drawing stuff and tablet. your posters of Percy Jackson and your girlfriends still adorned the walls and the rainbow lights still worked above your desk. the bed had black sheets and you even still had some of your clothes in here. your many sketchbooks sat on the floating shelf by the desk and your blue couch and fluffy red blanket were still in the corner. the 84inch tv, courtesy of tony was mounted on the wall opposite the bed and you had painted a mural of the city scape on the far wall. it was as much your home as the room across the hall. your girls often found you in here during the day either drawing or gaming.

but you hadnt showered in here since moving to sleep over the hall. nat heard the running water as she went past, assuming you had done it so she could shower after her training this morning, she shrugged it off. unusual but not insane.

once you turned the water off you carefully towel dried yourself trying to avoid getting blood on the fluffy towel. getting dressed in fluffy pants and your oversized red hoodie nat had bought you at Disneyland, the one with the big picture of Mickey mouse on the front, you went and laid on the bed. after mindlessly scrolling through Netflix and putting on a random movie you snuggled up. after a few minutes the exhaustion of your body rebuilding an organ wiped you out and you fell asleep.

Wanda carefully opened the door to your room. frowning at yhe sight of you curled up asleep in the middle of the day. this was unlike you. the tv had an action movie playing and the sound of gunfire should have woken you up, but you slept on. Wanda turned out the lights and muted the tv before going to talk to nat.

“I’m telling you nat something’s off, shes been acting weird all day.”

“I’m sure shes fine, shes a big girl wands.” nat sighed drying her hair with a towel.

“i don’t know, you know how it is when shes hurt, she wont tell us even if shes bleeding out on the floor.” Wanda huffed pacing and running her hands through her hair.

“why don’t we go cuddle up to her in bed and we’ll talk to her when shes up again?”

“ok” Wanda sighed in defeat.

after carefully lifting the sheets and sliding in either-side of you nat took the tv remote frowning at the cheesy action movie.

“you cant even shoot arrows like that in real life.” she grumbled putting on something that Wanda would like. a sit com.

still asleep you curled up around Wanda’s leg as she lent against the headboard and ran her hands through your hair.

“she looks so fragile when she sleeps natty.” Wanda cooed

“thats because its hard to be a cocky asshole when your sleeping.” nat teased. but it wasn’t fun without your sharp come backs to quip against her.

“naaattt leave her alone shes cute when she sleeps.” looking down at you she noticed a grimace on your face when you held onto her leg tighter. thinking you were having a nightmare she went to wake you. unbeknownst to her it was just the medicine having worn off and the painfully cramps coming back full force. before Wanda could gently wake you, you shot up, blinking rapidly before feeling the wetness of the bed and shooting off the bathroom to change clothes. Wanda and nat frowned at each-other, you hadn’t even noticed them. nat hopped up and knocked on the door.

“y/n/n? can i come in?” she asked. you froze. what were they doing here.

“Y/n/n?” nat asked again.

“natty… um you should come here.” Wanda quietly said from the bed. she had pulled back the sheets to find a wet bloodstain on the sheets. Nat’s eyes widened almost comically.

“y/n let us in right now.” she banged her fists on the door. just as she swung to knock the door down you opened it, her foot stopping mid air as she tried not to kick you or fall over. at the sight of your bloody clothes she jumped into action. extending your arms with her hands she searched your body before stopping and looking you dead in the eyes.

“strip.” she said. you balked.

“what?”

“you heard me. strip. or i’ll have Wanda use her wiggly woos to do it for me.”

“natty-“

“No.”

“wands-“

“I’m with nat on this one sweetheart. we need to know your ok.” Wanda cooed softly having walked in behind nat.

“I’m fi-“

“if you were going to say your fine we found your blood on the sheets. so we know your not.”

before you were able to reply you were hit with a rather painful cramp that made you double over in an attempt to stop the pain. you groaned loudly and both your girls sprung into action. they knew you didn’t get periods so that couldn’t be it. but the last mission was weeks ago and you hadn’t left the compound without them since. so how did you get hurt? Nat was at your side in an instance. “y/n/n baby where does it hurt?” she ran a hand down your back up and down your spine. you merely groaned in response still hunched over.

“wands I’m gonna need you to-“

“don’t worry it got it.” she replied. before you could think you felt the cold air hit as you were suddenly without clothes. Nat’s eyes grew wide as she saw the red between your legs. you felt tears slide down your cheeks as the girls understood. they had seen you naked before so it didn’t bother you plus you knew you were safe with your girlfriends.

“oh sweetheart.” Wanda cooed, picking you up. “did you get your period love?”

more tears fell as she carried you bridal style to the bath. with a wave of her wrist there was warm water in the tub and her clothes were also gone. gently she hopped in placing you curled up in her lap. nat removed her clothes to show toned muscle and slipped in beside her. it was a big tub, tony was not one to spare expenses much to peppers dismay when she first brought home Morgan to find a car already with custom plates with Morgan’s name on it in the garage.

“tony what the hell is this?” she had asked pointing to the car, Morgan’s carseat in her hand.

“well its called planning my dear wife.”

“planning is writing it out on paper not buying it 16 years early.”

Wanda chuckled at the memory before focusing back on your. she carded a hand though your hair and you whined softly.

“gonna made the water dirty.” you whined “and i ruined my hoodie.” you sniffled “the one you and natty bought me from disneyland.” you cried. nat rubbed a circle on your back knowing this was the work of pesky hormones but doing nothing to invalidate your feelings. Wanda smiled down at you.

“why are you smiling.” you sobbed.

“oh sweetheart do you forget i have magic sometimes.” Wanda cooed

“oh.” you hiccuped.

“its already clean and folded on the bed which has fresh sheets.” she started kissing you all over your face, tasting the salty tears. “and natty and I will buy you ten more if we need to. anything for our sweet girl.”

“even the goofy one?” you smiled looking up with teary eyes.

nat chuckled. they were so whipped for you. “anything you can ever dream of of my love.” nat cooed. “and whatever we can buy with the new black master-card i have from tony.”

“how-“ you were going to ask how but another cramp hit and tears flooded your eyes as blood swirled in the bathwater.

“oh sweetheart don’t cry.” Wanda cooed seeing the water was making you upset she waved her hand and the blood disappeared from the water.

“honey i wouldn’t care if the bath was 100% blood as long as your ok. i would do anything for you.”

“we.” nat corrected “we would do anything for you.” Wanda rubbed circles over your stomach and her fingers glowed a soft red hue in the bath water as she took away some of the pain for you. you sighed in relief at her magic touch.

“and to answer your question, all it took was a little blackmail.” you laughed at her smirk.

“come one love lets get you washed up.”

when Wanda had finished scrubbing your body clean for you, you were too tired to do it yourself. nat dried you with a towel and slipped you back into your comfy and now, thanks to Wanda, clean clothes.

curling up in bed with nat, Wanda returned with food for all of you and a mountain of all different kinds of chocolate and popcorn.

“I vote we have a movie day today.” Wanda proposed. nat smiled at you and brushed the hair from your face, “id love that” she agreed “ what about you Y/n/n?”

“only if i get lots of hugs.” you mumbled in an embarrassed way that made the redheads hearts skip a beat.

“alright then.” wand climbed in beside you and put down the tray of food. “you get first pick Y/n/n” Wanda grinned and nat passed you the remote.

“here you go” you took it and placed a chocolate in your mouth. going to reach for another Wanda lightly slapped your hand away.

“food first.” she chided softly. you pouted and picked a movie. after the first 20 minutes or so you hd finished lunch and were happily curled in the arms of your girls munching chocolate. maybe you should get your period more often you thought. then another cramp hit making you keen softly. never-mind you thought. Wanda ran her magic fingers over you lower back and the pain stopped. you knew then and there your girls would always be there. you were never going to be alone again.

MASTERLIST

[liesandnights]

Unfortunately if you are an old friend of mine I will always care about you. No matter what, even if we haven't seen each other in forever because I still remember what you were like 7 years ago and I still remember how it felt to be young with you and I still have a lot of love for you in the back of my mind.

[scribbled-dream]

Most Terran Accord soldiers and cyborgs come to the Affini in a ruinous state. Prosthetics made by the state’s corporations are designed to fail—ostensibly, so the user needs to buy more, mechanical limbs, lungs, spinal cords, all vital for life and work—but the Terran Accord has used them as leverage.

Those escaping to Affini space find their vitals failing, their limbs freezing, their lungs struggling to function and higher-ranked neural implants slowly pumping neurotoxin into the important minds, the ones the Accord cannot afford to fall into Affini hands.

Cyborg bodies are mass produced, from a select few templates. Male, and female. Commanders are directed to refer to Cyborgs as whatever their exterior chassis designates them as—not out of any sort of malice, simply practicality—but many take malicious pride in their “tin cans.” As such, cyborg defectors to the Affini come in droves, and arrive in broken, near-death states.

The care provided to these souls produces some of the most loyal Floret and Sophont commanders the Affini Compact has seen, with extra care and praise taken to allow Cyborgs to acclimate, being gifted new bodies taken from their deepest subconscious desires through the Root Network’s Neural Processors.

Xenodrugs work easily, usable through a tap of a button. But for many, they are simply recreational substances, not needed, constantly consumed substances by some Sophonts.

The healing of ruined bodies is devotion enough—which creates a raw, undying love.

[inkwell-chronicles]

You can only care so much for people who do not want to care for themselves.

[azure-firecracker]

Unbroken

An excerpt from Chapter 4 of Raise Your Voices that I’m particularly fond of. Some context may be missing but not enough to affect the crux of the story.

This takes place somewhere between Irresistible and Colony.

Summary: A night staying with a host family while working undercover opens some of Mulder’s old wounds.

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1,653

TW/CW: Flashbacks

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Where are you from, again?” Mulder asked Dmitri on the car ride back to Derek and Sandra’s house. The couple seemed pleasant enough, but neither were the intrusive type, which meant that it was up to Mulder to keep the conversation going.

Dmitri rolled his eyes. “I have said before. I am from Belarus.”

“What brings you here?”

Dmitri scowled at him. “I am trying to study music. Is harder to do in Belarus.”

Mulder wanted to ask more questions, but could tell they wouldn’t be well received, so he allowed the car to lapse back into silence for the rest of the drive.

“Don’t mind Dmitri,” Sandra murmured to him as they unpacked the car, about half an hour later. “He gets those same questions a lot, as you might imagine. It can be a bit frustrating.” That’s fair.

“I promise I meant no offense. I’m just a curious type.” Though maybe Mitchell the maple farmer wasn’t. Careful.

“When Dmitri first got here, we were, too,” chimed in Derek as he walked out to help. “We wanted to know everything about his past. But the more time we spent with him, the more we realized just how alienating our questions were. To him, it must have felt more like an interrogation than anything else.”

The voices hit Mulder so suddenly that he almost dropped the bag of groceries he was holding.

What happened, Fox?

Why didn’t you call us?

Why didn’t you help her?

Where is she?

It was nothing he hadn’t flashed back to a thousand times before, but somehow it got to him every time. You’re undercover. Stay here.

He nodded as Derek opened the door and they walked into the kitchen. “That makes complete sense.” God, the feeling of being interrogated with the same questions over and over again. He knew it all too well.

You know why you’ve been admitted, right?

We’re just going to ask you some simple questions.

No, you can’t leave yet. You aren’t better.

Why aren’t you better?

Dammit, Mulder, stay here.

“Are you alright?” asked Sandra, breaking through the haze. He forced himself to nod.

“So, how do you know Dmitri? Are you related?”

Derek shook his head. “Dmitri placed an ad in the paper when he got here seeing if anyone would rent out a room. Our kids were long gone, and things were getting a little quiet in our old age,” he and Sandra both chuckled, “so we said yes.”

“So you’re his landlords?” Awfully protective for landlords.

Derek and Sandra exchanged a glance. “It started out that way,” said Sandra, “but Dmitri really became part of this house.”

Derek smiled. “He seemed quite lonely when he got here. Understandable, of course, but it was hard for us to see, so…”

Sandra interrupted, “We made sure to let him know that he belonged here.”

Derek nodded. “He’s family now.”

The whole thing was a little too saccharine for Mulder’s taste, however lovely it might be. “He’s family now.” As if it were that easy to just have a family. As if it were that easy even to keep the family you were born with, to not let them down. As if it were that easy to deserve love.

The room started to spin.

How could you just let them take her?

What do you mean the doctors haven’t fixed you yet?

We’re splitting up. There’s nothing keeping us together anymore.

Your mother’s already lost one child. Make sure you don’t break her heart again.

Stop calling me. I don’t have time for this.

They say they’ve found her.

They’re always wrong.

Why didn’t you do more?

This is your fault. It’s all your fault.

Mulder barely managed to force out an apology mixed with an excuse about not feeling well before he was stumbling up the stairs, his body overtaken by sensations from the past, old words mixing with his thoughts, his memories, and his guilt.

This family had extended their deepest love to a complete stranger. It was so easy, so simple, yet Mulder had still failed to deserve the same sentiments from those who were supposed to provide them to him without question. Even now, he was still trying to make up for everything he’d ruined. Most days, it was all he wished for. But even if he did find Samantha, he knew it would never be enough. Love wasn’t feasible for him, not in the way it was for Dmitri or anyone in the Green Mountain Singers or the rest of the world. It was a fact that Mulder was used to carrying with him, but sometimes it shattered him nonetheless.

Sitting in a stranger’s house, curled up against the bedroom door, Mulder was a lonely child all over again, wishing and waiting for his parents to arrive and tell him everything was going to be alright, burdened with the knowledge that they never would. He felt as he had in the child psychiatric ward: ruined and alone and afraid. He needed to come back to the present. He needed to feel safe, to feel cared for, to feel alright.

It was against protocol, but he picked up the phone and dialed the one person who made him feel like he wasn’t broken.

“Hello?”

“Scully, it’s me.”

“Mulder,” she whispered over the phone, “we’re not supposed to call each other. You know that.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, trying (and failing) to keep his voice from breaking. “I just…” I needed to hear your voice. You’re the one person who can keep me grounded.

“Mulder,” her voice was much gentler now, “what’s wrong?”

How do I even begin to explain this? “Can you just…can you stay on the phone for a while? Can we talk about nothing?” Bring me back. You’re the only one who ever could.

“Sure, Mulder,” she quipped. “Tonight I spent three hours singing Eastern European folk songs and making potato and cheese casserole.”

“There’s a combination of words I never thought I’d hear from you.”

“You know, Mulder, these people are definitely…strange,” she observed, “but there’s a certain charm to them. Their unconditional support for one another is rather admirable.” He had to stop himself from letting out a bitter laugh. Support is never unconditional. Not really. He gripped the phone tighter, wishing Scully was really there for him to hold onto. Support is never unconditional. But sometimes I can believe that hers is, even just for a second. She was unique to him, in that way and in so many others.

“I get what you mean,” he replied. “The couple I’m staying with basically adopted this kid Dmitri, just because they wanted to, and…” He stopped, not wanting to burden her with his pain while she was already miserable on this assignment. It was too late. He could almost hear her put two and two together over the phone. Though the human mind was his area of expertise, his mind fell within hers. She knew what set him off, and he often caught her trying to protect him from those triggers when she thought he wouldn’t notice. She was naïve in that particular regard. Care was such a rarity in his life that he never failed to perceive it when it graced him.

“Adoption is a wonderful thing,” she said. “Some parents are very compassionate. Some less so. Studies show that the levels of compassion have very little to do with the child.” He knew why she was sharing those particular statistics. It didn’t help, but the fact that she was trying spoke volumes.

“Have your statistics accounted for outliers?”

“Not from Martha’s Vineyard.” Her directness caught him off guard, but of course she’d figured him out. She was too clever not to.

“Scully, I…”

“Mulder, I haven’t met your family, but whatever they made you believe, it isn’t true.” They didn’t make me believe it. It’s the Truth.

“My family did the best they could, Scully. It’s not their fault they didn’t have the mental capacity to raise a kid after what happened. I mean, who would?”

A pause. “It’s just…it’s not productive to blame yourself, Mulder. You were too young.” You don’t blame me. You’re the only one who doesn’t blame me. Why?

“It’s alright,” he replied. It isn’t, not really, but it’s better now that you’re here. Everything’s easier with you here. “I’ve accepted that. It’s just…” he sighed, “sometimes places like this get to me.” They make me wish I had a home to go back to. A real home. A home that feels like autumn sweaters and hot apple cider and warm hugs. A home that isn’t broken. This was the one thing about him that Scully would never understand. She had a home, and always would.

“Well,” she answered after a moment, “it’s no community choir. But you’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere.” Her words held extra weight after all she’d been through lately.

He thought of days spent in dark basements crouched over files, of long road trips and meaningless back-and-forth chatter, of running into the dark together, of him being pushed to his limit in her name, standing over a hospital bed or wrapping his arms around her at the base of a darkened stairwell. He thought of her going to the ends of the Earth for his sake in Idaho, Washington, Puerto Rico, California, and everywhere in between. He thought of running after the Truth and her running after him, no matter how many times he showed her that he didn’t deserve it.

Maybe he had a home after all.

“I know.” And how lucky I am.

Another pause.

“It’s getting late. We should get some sleep. Especially you. You have band rehearsal in the morning.”

“Don’t remind me,” she groaned. “And Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“You can call me again if you need to.”

He smiled. “Same to you.”

“Goodnight, Mulder.”

“Goodnight, Scully.”

[beatheprincess]

Shoutout to all littles >w< what kind of gear should I get? What do you all recommend? I already got art supplies in the works ♡♡♡ and I wanna get closer to regression more ^W^ !!

[randik-86]

An illusive feeling sinks into my mind,

Picturing you toying with me,

Under the sheets in our sweet cabin,

Away from all the noise,

Loving every centimeter of my body,

My fingers playing along your chest,

As I feel your breathing going faster,

And your heartbeat racing under my touch,

Staying this way forever feels like a dream,

That is so far away,

Yet so close to my soul,

That I can't wait until it happens,

Oh, when will that day come...

©️randik86

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Love can see beyond

Part II Frozen canon-divergence post F2 / Moana (2016) crossover fanfiction Pairing: Kristanna Rated M for angst/hurt/comfort (see tags on AO3)

Thanks to my two absolute amazing beta-readers, @hiptoff and @reconciledviolence729!

A new journey begins...

Chapter 23 / 42

Anna curled up on her side, closed her eyes and smiled as she listened to the love song that was hers alone and would never leave this room. It was her own precious gift and when Kristoff began to strum the chords and sing, her heartbeat almost burned in her chest.

this beautiful fanart was created by the wonderful @lintushadow-art on commission for my prequel-fanfic "Love can see the good" (AO3, 2021)

[izayoichan]

After a good night's sleep and breakfast, they walked over to their shelter, where they knew Flynn and Emil had planned their little surprise for some pets to bring home. Flynn had to work a bit on Emil as Tyvan had bonded with one of the dogs. Flynn used that the dog would be an aid for him, and could be trained to help him with things he found hard as he was getting older. 

Rylan: Grandpa!

River turned around to see his grandson come running his way, closely followed by his twin with his son following close behind.

River: Well hello there! Tyvan: We're here to help today! River: Perfect, we need a little help. Flynn: So the rumor says. 

He smiled, Emil had been asked to come to work, so he had said he would go with them alone, it was his weekend off, although he knew he would help out if needed.

River: Well, since you guys are ready, let's get right to it.

Hours later, and with all the kids being busy with what their “job” was for the day, playing, brushing, and generally just being around the many cats and dogs they had in their care. Like they had always learned from their family, what most of them needed was just love and time.

Beginning - Previous - Next

[d-z20]

hii i just read your rio's mma fic and it's so good! i got an idea if you can please write where agatha goes to fight wanda and almost wins but at the end get brutally knocked down so fem reader (who is agatha's girlfriend and sparring partner) takes cares of agatha after their match please? maybe agatha's ribs are broken and face is all bruised after wanda that y/n literally has to carry agatha out from the ring and her heart breaks seeing agatha in so much pain? like a good old angst with comfort at the end where they both get in bed cuddling and y/n is scared to let go of agatha so agatha just lays down on top of y/n, pressing her whole body weight into her

Hi Anon :)

I'm so glad you liked Heavy Hits!! This one was just as fun to write and I adored exploring a more protective side of reader. I ran away with the comfort towards the end but oh well :p

Sorry it took so long but the fic, Breaking Point, is out now, you can find it here

[i-am-trans-gwender]

What If instead of being called parents they were called flonqulars and instead of giving you trauma and making you hate yourself they loved and cared for you?

[momdiddler3]

I was traumatized by fluffy pony torture as a kid, and i thought if i had the opportunity to redo one thing, i would draw some happy fluffies. Found out it's known as "hugbox" So i made a hugbox and drew some foals having good spaghettis. Lmk if i should continue drawing these guys. I might take name suggestions.

[littletsstuff]

It is okay to growth old alone.

As long as you have a healthy and happy life,

Love yourself, protect yourself as always.

[whatevertups]

Individualism is poison I live to love and care