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chancloud8 · 15 hours ago

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To The Rescue

Pairing: Changbin x Reader Word Count: 1,3k Tags: Fluff, Cuddling, Established Relationship. Summary: Early mornings are for rescuing your boyfriend and his roommates from a tiny uninvited visitor. *************************************************************

The sky is still pitch black when you jog down the stairs of your dorm. Most of the students on campus are still asleep and you don't blame them. If it wasn't for you boyfriend calling you up in a blind panic, you would still be under your pile of blankets as well.

Your boots make the leaves under your feet crunch and you smile, breathing in the crisp morning air. You love this time of year, when the trees change color and the air gets colder. If only Autumn wasn't so dark and rainy, you'd love it even more.

When you arrive at the dorm your boyfriend shares with three of his friends, you only have to knock once before the door is wrenched open.

'Thank god,' Felix pants and he grabs your arm to pull you inside.

You chuckle and follow him into the living area where the other two are gathered as well, standing on the sofa and screeching like the house is on fire.

'Y/N! It's over there!' Jisung screams, waving his arm in the direction of the curtains.

'Shouldn't we call animal control? I'm not sure if it's safe for Y/N to touch it,' Changbin says from behind Jising, his hands clutching his friend's hoodie like it will protect him.

'Don't be so dramatic, babe,' you grin at your boyfriend. 'Why don't you come give me a kiss?'

Changbin's eyes grow wide. 'While the beast is still out there?'

'Yeah,' you nod. 'You love me, right? Am I not worthy enough for you to overcome you fear of a itty bitty-'

You get interrupted by Jisung screaming loudly again. 'IT MOVED!!'

'Oh my god,' Felix mutters beside you, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 'Y/N can you just please help me catch this stupid mouse so I can go back to sleep.'

You nod and inch closer to the curtains where the boys say they last saw the animal. You move slowly and careful, keeping your eyes trained on the dark brown fabric to watch out for any movement.

'Go for the tail if you can,' you say to Felix. 'It's easier to grab them there, but make sure to move it to your hands soon after so you won't hurt it.'

Felix shivers, but nods and inches towards the other side of the curtains.

'Babe, I'm really not sure you should touch it,' Changbin whines. 'What if it bites you?'

You ignore him and slowly get down to your knees so you'll have better access to the small animal if it decides to run your way.

Felix pokes the curtains at his side and almost immediately you hear the sound of running paws. Without thinking you stretch out your hands and latch onto the tiny body as it races out from under the curtains.

Jisnung screams again, Changbin yells your name and Felix cheers.

The mouse wriggles in your hands nervously, its tiny wet nose budging against your skin as it tries to escape.

'Ssshh, it's okay. I got you,' you whisper, hoping that like any other animal, it might calm it down a bit.

'DID IT BITE?' Changbin yells, still standing on the couch behind Jisung.

You shake your head and get up from the floor. The mouse trembles in your hands, but it doesn't try to hurt you.

'Binnie, darling, why don't you come off of the couch,' you try to convince your boyfriend again, smiling sweetly at him. 'The mouse won't hurt you, it's more scared of you than you of him.'

Changbin and Jisung both glare at you and stay right where they are. You roll your eyes at them. You're so going to tell this story to the rest of your friends over breakfast.

Felix opens the door to their tiny garden so you can set the mouse free. He grabs his phone and opens his camera to film your hand.

'Let's see what monster had the guys so afraid,' he chuckles.

You laugh too and slowly open your hands. The mouse's nose appears first and when it lifts its little head and looks at you and Felix with its tiny black eyes, you can't help but coo at it.

'It's so cute,' you giggle. 'I don't know what they were so afraid of.'

Felix still looks a bit wary, but you can see in his eyes that he thinks the tiny animal is not as scary up close as he might have thought.

'Babe, come inside, it's freezing,' Changbin yells from inside.

You take one last look at the mouse before kneeling on the grass to set it down.

'Be free, my friend. And don't come back,' you whisper as the mouse quickly runs into the bushes.

Felix laughs and helps you up. 'I swear you could make any animal your friend.'

Hell yes you could.

'I think I already proved that when I befriended you guys,' you tease as you step back into the living room.

Changbin and Jisung immediately tackle you in a hug.

'Thank you, thank you, thank you!' Changbin whispers against your neck.

'You're my hero,' Jisung cheers, hugging your back.

You laugh and curl your arms around Changbin's waist. Enjoying the warmth that is radiating from his body.

'You're welcome boys.'

Jisung lets go of you in favor of collapsing on the couch, but Changbin keeps you close to his body. His hands move to you back to hold you even tighter and you snuggle your face in his soft hoodie.

'Hey,' you whisper into the fabric.

'Hey,' he whispers back, pressing a kiss on top of your hair. 'I missed you.'

You giggle and tighten your arms around his waist. 'You just saw me like six hours ago.'

'Well, you could have just stayed with me,' Changbin replies. 'It would have saved you the trouble of running through the cold at five am.'

He has a good point, but you aren’t going to admit that. You spend a lot of time at his dorm already, practically living here anyways.

'Where's Seungmin?' You ask, changing the subject as you slowly pull back from your boyfriend's chest. 'I expected him to be hiding out on the couch with you and sungie. Did he sleep through it?'

Changbin laughs and pulls you with him to his room, the one he shares with Seungmin. 'No, I think he stayed with the others. He and Minho were studying together last night.'

'So we have your room to ourselves?' you wiggle your eyebrows. 'Such luxury.'

The both of you climb into Changbin's bed and he drapes the covers over both of you before pulling you against his body. You cuddle against his chest and intertwine your legs with his while he wraps his strong arms around you.

'I definitely wish I could sleep like this every night,' you whisper happily, once again snuggling into the soft fabric of Changbin's sweater.

'You could, you know,' Changbin says. 'The guys don't mind having you here. They love you.'

'Hmm, they just love me for my ability to catch whatever animal crawls into your dorm,' you joke.

'That's not true, they love you for way more than that.' You don't even have to look at your boyfriend to know that he's pouting. 'And so do I.'

'I know, babe,' you reassure him, lifting your head so you can kiss his chin. 'And I love them.'

'What about me?'

'Hmm,' you hum, pretending to think hard and Changbin lets out a fake enraged breath before he tickles your sides. You squeal loudly and bat his hand away.

'I love you the most, silly,' you giggle, pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can drape yourself over his chest and look at him.

'More than chocolate?' Changbin grins, his eyes twinkling. 'Puppy's? Draco Malfoy?'

You reach up to touch his cheek. 'I love you more than anything, Binnie.' *********************************************** a/n: soft binnie my beloved <3 I saw a post the other day that the world needs more Bin fluff fics and I agreed, so here we are hehe xxx

#changbin x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #changbin fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #changbin x you #changbin x y/n #changbin x female reader #changbin fanfic #chancloud8 writes #skz x reader #skz fanfic #changbin #lee felix #han jisung

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ashblooddragons · 3 days ago

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As The World Caves In

Request made by @valuemyheart1

Word Count: 1742

Summary: it's been three weeks since you lost your son to Blood and Cheese. and yet your breast will not dry, they become painful, and Aemond is all to happy to help relive that pain. (also Aemond was not with Syliv he was busy talking to some unnamed lord)

Warnings: memories of B&C, grief, P in V sex, breast worship, lactation kink, still new to smut so please be kind!

I can feel the weight of my breasts, feel how they are filled with milk for babe, it's painful and I should relive it, but there is no babe to feed to take this pain away. I've been fighting the memories, fighting the image of my little boy, my little Aenar.

Oh my sweet little Aenar, he was only five moons old when those monsters came in and took him from me. All for that little Strong boy.

They were supposed to kill my loving Husband, my dear brother, Aemond. They might have if he wasn't speaking to some Lord that was in need of ‘dire advice from the prince’ I scoff at the thought. He was in dire need of my husband? Him? As I had to stand with a dagger to my throat as that blast cheese cut my son's head off? He needed my husband more?

No, and there is a reason that the Lord is now being sharply questioned in the black cells.

I can still see Aemond's face when he saw what they did to our little boy. He must have heard my screams after they sliced Aenar's little head off. He looked like he was going to be sick.

I hear something behind me, like stones scraping against stone. When I turn around to see what is wrong I see two men with knifes grinning at me, one rushes forward when he sees I'm about to scream.

“You can scream lass, but if you do I'll kill ya. Do ya understand?” He asks, gliding the dull edge off his knife down the side of my face.

All I can do is nod and pray that all they want is my jewelry.

My nod seems to satisfy them as the bulky one lifts his hand from my mouth moving to reach for Aenar.

I gasp and step back holding Aenar closer to my chest cooing to him when he starts to cry.

“What do you want? My jewels, you can have them just don't just my baby boy.” I plead helplessly. I gasp when the scrawny one rips the gold and ruby necklace from my throat.

“We were sent by the Queen, the true Queen. She wants payment for her son, and we were sent to make sure the deal was done.” The scrawny one says twirling his blade in his hands as he grins at me menacingly.

For some reason this one scares me more than the goliath.

“What does she want? What has my sister, the ‘true Queen’ , asked of you?” I ask feeling the pit in my belly grow, I have a sick feeling my jewelry is not what they are after.

“A son for a son.” The goliath says pointing to Aenar who is still crying.

I can feel his little tears soak into my silk robe, feel his little heart pumping in. I feel my throat constrict in dear, feel the bile rise in my throat. Black dots flood my vision as panic takes over.

“Give a price, want double the amount done. Just don't hurt my little boy. He's only five moons, please.” I beg but from the menacing smirk on the scrawny one, and the look of mock sympathy on the goliath I know they will kill my boy.

I tried to run but the Goliath grabbed me around the waist and held my head in place. “Told to take you to watch lass.”

I watch as the scrawny one lays little Aenar on his changing table, raise his blade and strike down. It was a clean cut at least, as it only took that one swing for my little boy's head to fall off the table and roll across the floor only to stop at my feet.

I don't hear them leave, I don't hear the guards run in, I don't hear Aemond calling my name. I only heard screams and the blood rushing to my ears. When I turn I see nothing but Aemond, the way he can't decide where to look, our little boy or me. I watch as the blood drains from his face and his skin turns green.

I don't know what to say besides one word. One word is all I need to say for Aemond to know who to kill for this crime against us.

“Rhaenyra.”

I'm cut out of my thoughts by the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. I whip around ready to attack only to find not a goliath nor a scrawny man, but my wonderful husband, my dear brother, I find Aemond.

“Sorry, I asked if you were alright?” He says with that tone that tells me he knows I wasn't here.

I about laugh at the question, how am I supposed to be alright? How am I supposed to ever be alright after what I went through? But instead of bringing up that night I decide to go a different route.

“My breasts hurt, the Maesters say I just have to wait for them to dry up, but they won’t. It hurts Aemond, it hurts.” I say flinching when I touch my tender and swollen breasts. It has only been three weeks since we lost our boy, and I haven't let a drop leave me.

I watch his pupil dilate and hear him take in bated breaths. I know that look well, he's always adored my breasts but once I came with child and they grew, and once Aenar was born he seemed enthralled with the sight of our son suckling at my breast, one of the reasons I continued even though it is frowned upon for a Princess to feed her own child.

“I could help,” he says breathlessly, making me confused how he could help me. “I could– I could relive that pain for you.”

“H–how?”

I feel his bated breath against my lips, feel the hardness of him against my hip. Try as I might I can't fight the desire that courses through veins, nor the wetness between my thighs.

I watch as he moves so he is now hovering over me before he kisses my lips like a man starved. It has been so long since I felt desire, felt this need. I think as I move my hips so my core can meet his length. Though we're both still clothed, the friction is enough to make me breathless.

I gasp when he sits back on his haunches and lifts me so I'm on his lap. “Time to take that Nightgown off, Darling.” He says already raising it and I'm all too happy to help.

“Fuck.” I hear him whisper as he takes in the swell of my breasts, the rich pink of my nipples and the veins that have risen from prolonged fullness.

“Gods I've missed these.” He says kissing along the tender skin making me whimper in almost pain.

“They've missed you, my love.” I say smiling when I hear the guttural growl that leaves him.

Before I know it I'm laid on my back my Husband resting his hips against mine and my peaked nipple in his mouth. I feel each draw he takes, it's a strange relief, for the desire it brings to my core is undeniable, but so is the relief of that painful fullness and stretch.

“Aemond.” I sigh out rocking my hips against his, I need more, I need him.

“Fuck, if you keep doing that I won't be able to hold back.” He growls out gripping my hip and kicking up the milk that has dripped down my right breast.

“Then don't.” I say gripping his hair and forcing him to look at me.

He may hate his eye, but I find there's something ethereal about his scar and sapphire. And even if it is the last words I say, the last thing I think before my last breath I will have him know I adore every part of him, even the scars and darkness.

I feel him untying his trousers as he continues to suck and lick at my right breast. I feel each draw of milk leave me, hear the groan of pleasure he lets loose at each taste.

I feel the leaking head of his cock against my core, feel him hesitate from gliding into me.

“Please.” Is all I need to say before he drives into me with a punishing force.

I can hardly catch my breath as he starts bullying my cunt with sharp hard thrusts as he moves over to my left breast. All I can think of is him, no more pain, no more grief, only Aemond and the pleasure he gives me.

With each thrust and each drag from me teat I see stars, he has always known my body better than I ever could. He could always pick up the slightest frown or smile, and now he is seeing how he drives me mad with desire, how he takes my breath away.

“You were made for me, from your nature to this sweet little cunt that grips my cock like a vice. There is no man, or god that will ever take you from me. Do you hear me?” He says emphasizing each word with a sharp thrust to the spot he knows makes me see stars.

“I was made for you, my love, only you, always you!” I scream out feeling my peak upon the precipice.

With one more hard thrust, I’m screaming his name as I grip his long silky hair like a lifeline. My eyes go black from the force of my peak, and I can only barely hear him let ut a groan of pleasure before he spills in me, for all I can hear clearly is the beat of my heart.

We lay like this for a while, his hands gripping my hips, my legs around his waist, and my fingers in his hair, and him buried deep within my core his cock acting as a stopper so his seed does not leak out of me.

We don’t say anything, for we do not need to, we know this was only a moment of release, of bliss, and that within time we will hold each other close, me sobbing into his chest and him letting silent tears fall into my hair. But we will have each other and that is all we will ever truly need.

@sugutoad @ilikefelines @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff

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rainbowsuitcase · 11 hours ago

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Ice is woken up way too early by insistent knocking on the door of his room. Wondering what could possibly have caught on fire before 0800 in the morning, he opens the door trying to blink sleep out of his eyes and freezes when he's met by a very angry looking Nick Bradshaw.

"I really didn't think you'd stoop that low," Goose scoffs at him.

Ice glances down at himself. He's wearing dark boxers with no embarrassing pattern and the old USNA shirt he sleeps in is a little worn out, sure, but also clean. He knows his hair is a mess but c'mon, he just woke up, whose wouldn't be?

He concludes that he has no idea what Goose is talking about. "Uhm, what?"

"Don't play stupid, Kazansky. You know what you did."

Oh. This is about something in the past.

Ice still has no idea what though. "I... have not had a hangover in quite some time, so yes, I can say I remember just about everything I did lately-"

Goose interrupts him with a hissed, "That's really all you have to say to me?"

"-and I have no idea which of those things could have possibly pissed you off this much."

"Fuck you too, Tom." Oh no, not the first name. "What did Mav ever actually do to you?"

Ice is just more and more confused by the second. Is he still asleep? Is that why nothing's making sense? Mav did... quite a lot to him just a couple days ago, but Ice sincerely doubts Goose actually wants to hear about any of that.

"Uhm- not much lately?" he tries slowly. "Which I guess is actually impressive now that I think about it?"

"I'm not fucking around, Tom," Goose growls, leaning forward to get in his face. "Why did you punch him?"

"I... punched him?" Is this a joke? It's way too early for this.

"I fucking saw the bruise," Goose doesn't sound like he's joking. "Mav's refusing to tell me anything. What the fuck did you do to him?"

Ice tries to take a deep breath but no, he's not lacking oxygen, his lungs feel fine, his head doesn't hurt and this isn't making any sense. "You saw... the bruise?"

"Tom, I swear to God I'm gonna give you a bruise if you don't stop repeating what I'm saying and start answering!"

"Okay!" Ice exclaims, lifting his hands palms up because threats from Mother Goose should never be taken lightly, even by a very confused recipient. "Okay, uhm... what bruise did you see?"

"The one on his hip!" Goose shouts and Ice realizes too late that that was the wrong thing to say. "Is there more than one? What the fuck, man?"

"I- the bruise on Mav's hip-" Ice winces. He can't exactly say he didn't put it there, but he's not sure that admitting it's not really a bruise is such a good idea either.

And thankfully, before he's forced to find out, there's shouting from down the hallway. "Goose!" And that's Maverick running toward them. "Goose, stop! Ice didn't hurt me!"

Goose politely gets out of Ice's face and huffs. "How'd you know I was here?"

Mav is breathing hard, grabbing at his chest - did he run the whole way here? And he's still wearing his sleeping shirt too, with a stain on the collar, though he's taken the time to put on actual pants at least.

Gasping for air, he still does his best to answer. "Well I- I woke up and you weren't there and... You got so pissed last night, it wasn't that hard to figure out. But I swear, Goose-" he straightens up and raises his voice, "-Ice didn't punch me!"

"You don't have to defend him just because we used to be friends." Well, that emphasis hurts. But Ice is sure- he's hoping that they'll be fine once this gets cleared up.

"You can still be friends!" Mav throws his hands up in a frantic gesture. "He didn't do anything to me I didn't want!"

Goose freezes on the spot, anger melting into confusion at record speed. "What?"

And because apparently, Ice before 0800 is in the business of digging graves, he clears his throat. "Yeah, I... didn't exactly make that bruise with my hands."

And because apparently, Mav is a little shit in any and every situation, he meets Goose's wide eyes with a grin. "The one on my thigh, though-"

"Nope!" Goose raises his hands. "No, shut up, I don't need to hear more! I..." he hesitates, looking back at Ice. "I am very sorry for waking you up, Ice. And for yelling at you... And I'm gonna give two some space now! Happy for you both!"

He backs away slowly, giving them two thumbs up until he turns around and sets out at a fast pace.

Ice looks down at Mav and sighs, "That went well. You couldn't have just told him?"

Mav's smile dims. "I didn't think he'd react that badly," he mumbles. "Just wanted to keep you to myself for a while."

That's so damn sweet.

And, well. Mav is here, looking all ruffled and soft from sleep, and there's no one else around.

Ice puts a hand on his shoulder. "You do have me for yourself, Mav." And then he leans down to kiss his boyfriend.

#this is silly #silly plot bunny wouldn't stop following me around #it just wanted to play don't think about it too hard #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #nick goose bradshaw #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun fanfiction

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burnt-by-marigolds · 15 hours ago

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Astarion’s first bite: Vampirism in a nutshell

As a person who's spent the better part of their life consuming and analyzing various vampire media, I'd like to stop and appreciate the first time Astarion feeds from Tav. The scene, however brief, is simply delicious.

(I know it's probably already been written a thousand times all over the Internet, but I'm playing the game for the first time, let me have my fun.)

Vampire bite has been portrayed in a million different ways in popular culture. As an avid TTRPG player, I am probably the most used to the idea of Vampire the Masquerade’s ‘Kiss’: there, the act is generally intensely pleasurable for mortals, putting them in a state of daze that some even liken to orgasm, but victims retain hazy memories of it at best. It’s not unheard of for people to get addicted to the feeling and become so-called blood dolls, purposefully seeking out vampires just to experience the high again. Oh, and the bitemarks? No worries! All it takes is for the vampire to lick the wound after they're done feeding and the skin instantly heals.

I love VtM, but I'm glad this is not the case with Astarion.

The game makes a clear statement: being fed on by a vampire isn't a sexy or pleasurable thing. Even if Astarion tries to be civil about it, and Tav gives consent, this is still very much a predatory act, a physical intrusion. It's painful – like a shard of ice into your neck – and leaves the character weakened.

And Tav stays conscious for the entire time, gritting their teeth, trying to look at Astarion and figure out what exactly is happening to their neck. No haze to dull the memories, no painkillers or sedatives, no nothing. Sorry, Tav; you have to go through this acutely aware of every single sensation.

This contrasts profoundly with what the ‘pale elf’ is experiencing. While Tav feels pain and gets a very telling, brand new ugly wound, the vampire pulls away, clearly intoxicated and even incredulous. That was amazing. (...) I feel… happy!

This opposition is further emphasized by the game systems, namely the conditions the two characters receive. Tav becomes Bloodless, suffering a penalty to rolls etc. A classic victim of vampire bite: sluggish, strangely pale, with mysterious punctures on their neck… It's almost a pity we can't choose to decorate Tav’s tent with a garlic wreath.

Astarion, on the other hand, doesn't become, I don't know, Invigorated, or Sated, or Bloated As a Tick. No, the focus is again on him being… Happy. Not empowered (although he clearly is), but simply happy for the first time in gods know how long, as opposed to him being constantly on edge, on the run, and fighting for survival. He experiences a moment of bliss. This is a gift.

Thus the scene presents various facets of the vampire myth in a nutshell. Because what is a vampire? It's an animalistic monster who preys on humanity (cut to the painful wound on the neck and gritted teeth). It's a deceptively civil and charming individual, often tragic and very self aware (cut to Astarion asking for permission, saying how he's only ever fed on vermin or stating he won't forget the kindness). It's a blood junkie (cut to Astarion experiencing the rush of excitement and ‘happiness’). It's a parasite, because even if the feeding is consensual, we can clearly see which side reaps the benefits, and which is left weakened with nothing in exchange.

Oh, the complexity of the vampiric condition.

(The fact that vampiric bite is often a metaphor for sexual act isn't lost here, even if it's not the focus; it becomes more pronounced later, when Astarion reluctantly admits You were my first. Which, depending on the angle, may render the whole thing an even darker shade.)

And let me say again, all of this is packed neatly into a single, pretty brief scene. I love this game already.

PS The screenshots feature Yae, my half-elven goolock/bladelock. Say hello to him!

Thanks for reaching the end of the note! Please bear in mind I'm playing Baldur's Gate 3 for the first time and I haven't played any of the origin stories yet. Feel free to let me know if you think some things can be viewed differently in the context of the full game, but please avoid spoilers while doing so.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #vampires #vampirism #opinion piece #vampire the masquerade #vtm #bg3

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femmeleatherface · 8 hours ago

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@caiteaz i was going to make this a reply but then it ran away from me, so sorry for the delayed response!

first up i just want to say that your interpretation of them a brotherly relationship is awesome and i love it. when all is said and done i'm personally open to really any interpretation of their dynamic, ultimately they are fictional characters and we have better things to do than argue over fake people. that's part of why i kept the romance mention in the tags rather than in the post itself

that said i am one of the people on the romance train so. i will explain my take on it!

realistically i think the main reason erik/the daroga as a ship exists is because of the susan kay novel. idk if you've read it but they are. very gay in that. it's been a while since i read it, but if i remember right at one point erik nearly steals diamonds--aka the stuff they make wedding rings out of--to give them to nadir (the daroga's name in this version). and then i remember VERY vividly erik even ponders if nadir is going to be his lover but then decides nah because erik can't comprehend the concept of bisexuality (despite clearly being open to the concept himself)

also more obscure but beloved by me if nobody else, there's the 1991 musical where the daroga swoops in at the end, plants himself on erik's bed, tries to comfort him because he's sad about christine leaving, then talks about how he's followed erik from the ends of the earth and will continue to follow him until the end of time. and then they smile and clash swords together (this is not a euphemism but sounds like it)

but in terms of the leroux novel, then for me the romantic interpretation of erik/the daroga comes from two approaches: fun reading-between-the lines of their interactions, and speculating the concept of such a relationship based on the characters themselves

from the between-the-lines approach, in the leruox novel they're antagonistic, but close. they feel almost like exes who are still kind of a little in love with each other, but also broke up for really good reasons, but also still understand each other better than everyone on the planet. i don't even read them as exes, i just think they have the vibe all on their own because their chemistry is so fun

basically, they annoy each other, but also clearly still care about each other. from erik's side of things, he doesn't drown the daroga in the lake (but is very okay drowning anyone else), and when he's at death's door at the end it's the daroga he goes to so he can tell him what happened with christine and get help fulfilling his burial wishes. and the daroga, despite literally losing everything and being exiled from his homeland because of erik, still follows erik to paris and keeps in touch with him and stalks him, really, the way erik stalks christine. (i'm a simple person, i see any parallels between same-gender relationships that are totally not romantic and hetero ones that totally are and i immediately raise my speculative gay eyebrow)

and obviously there's multiple ways that kind of relationship can be interpreted. i don't even know if leroux intended for us to read them as friends considering the daroga repeatedly calls erik a monster and they clearly get on each other's nerves. this is why i have a second approach, speculating on the concept of them

like, think about leroux erik. he desperately wants to be loved but also his relationship with christine is super unhealthy. i mean... someone who knows what he looks like and what horrors he is capable of and who still hasn't abandoned him despite losing everything for him is RIGHT THERE

and the daroga. he literally saved erik's life ages ago and never seems to regret it no matter how much evil erik commits. prior to christine's kiss, the daroga seems to have an recognition of erik's inherent worth as a human being when no one else does, even with all the times he calls him a monster. he wants erik to be alive and wants him to be happy, but also knows when to step in because he's gone too far. also he himself is an outsider in paris because he is an immigrant who is distrusted by the people around him because of his appearance, giving him a degree of empathy for what erik has been through as an "other." (i would argue christine also has this potential because she's swedish and this is even why she and the daroga are the two people able to get the most close to erik, but that's another post)

even if all that's not romantic love that's still got to be some kind of love. and considering romantic love and the so-called "intrinsic need" for it is a huge part of the novel, the romantic interpretation just makes sense theme-wise

anyway. sorry for the long post but i hope that answered your question. like i said, that's just my take. i'm sure others have different opinions because art is wonderful and subjective that way

the relationship between erik and the daroga is great because while yes, erik is the bane of the daroga's existence, the daroga is EQUALLY obnoxious to erik. for every gray hair the daroga receives from erik causing mayhem, erik receives one split end of what little hair he has left from the daroga stalking his house, butting his nose into his private life, and all around being a major buzzkill by reminding him of promises he made forever ago like "no more murders" or whatever

#screaming into the void #the void screams back #poto #other reason: i am gay and love overanalyzing things and as such love reading gay relationships into fictional people #So Why Not

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losergender · 2 days ago

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you know what's timebomb coded? the entire home video album by lucy dacus released in 2021. (s2 act 3 spoilers ahead)

"you used to be so sweet, now you're a firecracker on a crowded street" -> from powder being a major sweetheart to jinx being (lovingly and not so lovingly) a pain in the ass that annoys everyone (and also literally carrying explosives around) | "led me to the floor even though i'm not a dancer" -> literally them dancing in ep7 | "how did i believe i had a hold on you? you were always stronger than people suspected, underestimated and overprotected" -> GUYS THIS IS LITERALLY EKKO TALKING ABOUT POWDER ISTG !!! "a hidden gem, my own goldmine, you had the wide and wild eyes" -> jinx eyes changing color and all "NOW YOU'RE THE BIGGEST BRIGHTEST FLAME, YOU ARE A FIRE THAT CAN'T BE TAMED, YOU'RE BETTER THAN EVER, BUT I KNEW YOU WHEN IT'S BITTERSWEET TO SEE YOU AGAIN" -> GUYS IS THIS NOT EXACTLY EKKO'S FEELINGS ABOUT JINX COME ON GUYS

the entire "first time" is peak "can we pretend like it's the first time?" | "YOU CAN'T FEEL IT FOR THE FIRST TIME A SECOND TIME" , "and how will i know if history repeats itself? how will I know when it's gonna come back around? how will i know? has my face changed, baby? how will I know?" this ekko after breaking free from the perfect dimension guys ,,, guys..

cartwheel guys. cartwheel. "FIREFLY juice on your skin / you're glowing like an ATOM BOMB" it's them it's them it's so them | "this natural thing that you've undone / outgrew older sister's clothes again / won't admit you're growing tall and thin" ekko watching her turn from powder to jinx from afar,,, | "i thought back to many years ago: a late-night promise on the telephone, we'd build a house of twigs and vines, grow old together just to pass the time // now there's only past and present day, i can't believe a word you say" EKKO WATCHING HER TURN EVIL FROM AFAR GUYS !!! WHILE STILL KEEPING FEELINGS !!!

thumbs it's ekko thinking about what silco has done to her. "i would kill him if you let me, i would kill him quick and easy, your nails are digging into my knee, i don't know how you keep smiling" / "you've been in his fist ever since you were a kid, but you don't owe him shit even if he said you did"

please stay. please stay is literally canon because he literally had to stop her from killing herself a good 5 times. "change your name, change your mind, change your ways, give them time [...] call me if you need a friend or never talk to me again, but please stay" like pleaseeee

and triple dog dare,,, "you're dancing in the aisle 'cause the radio Is singing you a song you know and the kid at the counter is gawking at your grace / i can tell what he's thinking by the look on his face, it's not his fault, I'm sure i look the same / it's what you do, but it's not you i blame" EP 7 TIMEBOMB GUYS | "you know i'll be seeking if you run and hide, if the door were to open, would you walk through the frame? if you're too afraid, it won't be you i blame" that's ekko trying to save her at some point | "i want you to tell me that you miss me, want you to hold and hurt and kiss me [...] it's a triple dog dare, you're a chicken if you don't" -> no explanation needed. | "i can fish for our food and you know how to start a flame, if you don't get out now, you'll only have yourself to blame" this is what he sounded like when he tried to save her from silco (bc i know he tried guys) "You said 'you have me there, if it's a triple dog dare'" bc tell me she is not the kind of person to do anything if it's a challenge. | "they put our faces on the milk jugs, missing children 'til they gave up [...] can't find the feeling of relief, nothing worse could happen now" -> ekko literally putting her face on the missing/dead poster, ekko disappearing in s2, jinx fleeing (she did not die guys trust me),,,

#arcane #timebomb #arcane s2 #jinx arcane #jinx #ekko #ekko arcane #se quieren de verdad #lucy dacus

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itwdoris · 19 hours ago

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hi sweetheart i love u!!! im just thinking abt toji pissing our pussy before we go out:(((( and then cumming on it and making us leave the house like that, so we're all marked up and can only think about him the whole timeeeeee ughhhhh

just toji spreading your legs and pulling you closer to him, loving to see how your little hole tightens around nothing because he knows it's for him, that you're needing him to fill it up.

he'd said he'd take you out, he hadn't meant to mess you up before you got home later, but it was almost impossible when he saw you all dressed up, again, just for him. the way you looked at him expecting him to guide you, how your pretty voice called his name.

oh damn.

his pretensions had gone down the drain 'cause now you're lying with your legs wide open for him while he jerks at the sight, seeing your face all red and lips being compressed, swallowing moans. he won't go much further before the end of the night, but he'll certainly do something.

fushiguro's chest rises and falls rapidly thanks to his panting, a little sweat begins to accumulate on his forehead but it's not going to be bad, in fact his sweat is delicious. his hand moves up and down on his length tirelessly, purplish-red head crying whitish drops that drip onto your thighs and mount of venus.

you salivates at the thought of having you in his mouth, you can see his face full of pleasure, and you could give more, listening to him moan and growl, and he could be fucking you so good right now.

but not yet.

no, toji isn't that impatient, he'll do it when you get home later, he'll make up for everything you made him feel all night long, compensate for the way you make him feel like a fool with a racing heart and a hard cock. but for now he's just going to make it simple.

simple so that others can know who you belong to.

you reach out your hand to touch him, feeling him grab it before you can, then taking you to his cock quickly, rubbing himself on it, pressing your pretty fingers against his base, against his own pulsating veins. until he started to slow down, slowly pushing in.

your confused face makes him come closer just to leave you a kiss, he's starting to get so slow now. he pulls away, letting go of your hand and breathing deeply and loudly as he close his eyes and tries to concentrate for a few seconds, looking at you afterwards.

murmuring that you shouldn't worry, toji aimed his cock at your exposed pussy, sighing relieved as small drops dripped onto your folds. too warm, too wet to be his cum, it wasn't.

the liquid began to gush out little by little, nothing too much, but still soaking your pussy with his piss. your breath escaped for a few seconds, a whimper caught in throat, your hands rushed to pull your clothes before they got wet too when you came back to the world.

with fushiguro looking at you in such possessive, almost proud way as he pisses in your pussy, while control himself so that he don't get you all wet, so that he don't dirty your pretty face that looks up at him so needily. he had tried so hard not to get hard again, but the way you raised your hips wanting more made him go crazy.

gulping, you saw his adam's apple move as he sighed, the flow slowing to just a few drops sooner than it should have perhaps, now with him moving his hands quickly and visibly tightly again. pulsing against his own fingers as you looked so eager to receive all his seed, wherever it was, tightening the fabric of your clothes.

so many dirty desires being created in his mind, he moaned, moving closer and leaning on one of his arms, staying on top as he continued to jerk in front of your folds. mark it, mark them.

you lean in to kiss the scar on his mouth, bringing your hands gently to him, wrapping them around him, tangling your fingers in his hair, a single drop of sweat falling against your cheek. toji. brushing your lips against his, enough to make him growl and devour you with his mouth, cumming all over your pussy.

hot and thick being shot repeatedly against your folds, you can feel it running down, so good, making you moan. you pull away a little just to try and look, feeling him stand up and look at you that way, the way he looks when he just finishes cumming, so pretty panting.

"put on your panties." slurred and deep. you don't even know where your panties are. toji only gave his cock a few lightly shakings before tucking it into his pants as if nothing had happened. "we're still going out." he approached just to leave a kiss on the corner of your mouth, slightly smirking.

and in fact he found your panties, helped you put them on, so pleasurable as he watched his piss and cum dripping off you, when he noticed the fabric getting dark with wetness, a stain growing. knowing that you'd be like that for the rest of the night, for him to redo everything better later, rubbing the fabric while holding your face to kiss you.

think i lost track of the prompt about fifteen times on that one, oh lord... / also, so hot prompt-- loved it, love u too!

#thirst #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #tw piss #is this good?#hope yes

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emeritusemeritus · 2 days ago

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hi hun, i have a story idea for you, reader and fred weasley if that's alright. reader is pregnant and is due to have her baby on new year's eve but she goes into early labour alone after an argument with fred and gives birth on christmas eve just as fred arrives to make up with her⁷

Hi Anon! Wow when I tell you this has consumed me for days, it’s taken so long to write but I just couldn’t stop! Side note, the name of Fred and Reader’s child is a name I’ve loved since I was a kid and finally got to use it in a fic where it fit perfectly. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: pregnancy and childbirth. Graphic descriptions of pain and labour but not of actual birth. Fast labour, precipitous labour. Reader has the pregnancy emotions. arguments and shouting, minor swearing. Reader hits Fred in the arm. Molly Weasley being the OG midwife. I may have some unresolved birth trauma of my own apparently. Happy ending I promise. Not beta read or spell checked.

Word count: 5.5k

Hark now hear the angels sing [Fred Weasley]

"And... that is the last one, we are officially ready for Christmas!"

You beam as you turn towards Fred, having tied the last bow on the last gift you had to wrap. You look at the pile of gifts and smile, partially because it meant that you no longer had to wrap a single other thing but mostly because it was a stack of gifts for your loved ones. You'd be going to the Burrow tomorrow for Christmas Eve to spend a big family Christmas back at the Weasley home and had made sure that not a single person would be missed in the gift exchange.

It was December 23rd and you couldn't be more excited for the holidays. It had snowed overnight making everything seem so much more magical and it would be the last Christmas as a couple before the little one arrived.

With one final proud look towards your pile, you gather the scissors and tape into the little bag to store them and tried to stand up from your place on the floor, realising quickly that it probably wasn't the best idea to wrap the gifts on the floor at 39 weeks pregnant. You wince at the sharp pain that runs down the length of your back at any form of movement and momentarily swallow your pride as you call out your husband.

"Little help?" You asked Fred who was sat on the sofa in your little home, tinkering with a string of lights that just didn't seem to want to work. He looks up and starts chuckling at your pathetic attempts at getting up and stretches his hand out for you to take. He lifts you with ease, something you're very impressed by factoring in your current size and giggle when he places a delicate kiss onto your nose. His hand wraps around your waist, his palm pressed against the curve of your belly with his thumb stroking the stretched skin through your T-shirt.

"Did we wrap anything for Fred jr?" He asks, smirking at you with those mischief filled eyes that you love so much.

"No. Mainly because there is, and will be, no such person."

"Oh come on sweetheart, don't you want a tiny little me running around?" His eyebrows jump up and down for effect, fingers still lovingly stroking your bump.

"I'm hoping for a George," you deadpan, breaking into a laugh when he suddenly pulls you gently towards him by tickling your side. "Anyway, she's a girl."

"Oh yeah? Mother's intuition?" Fred teases, his eyes gazing over your bump as if he's trying to see something that's not there, like an obvious clue of what gender your baby will be.

"Something like that," you smile, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his smiling lips.

Suddenly, you pull away from Fred with a brief push to his chest, showing your panicked face and the tears that are starting to well in your eyes, all glimmer of happiness gone.

"Princ-."

"I didn't get her anything!" You suddenly cry out, cutting Fred off as he notices the rather sudden change in your demeanour, your voice trembling as the feeling of complete grief consumes you. "What if she comes early and we didn't get her anything? She'll think that we don't love her! Or she'll think that Santa forgot her!"

Tears are streaming down your face now, your breaths coming quicker and quicker as guilt and shame fill your mind. What kind of mother doesn't buy her own baby a Christmas gift?

"Between the cot, the pram and the clothes we've bought for them, plus not to mention the entire house we bought after finding out they were on the way, I'd say they've had enough."

The glare that you shoot at Fred is enough to silence him instantly, the venomous look in your eyes rivalling his own mothers as he quickly realised this is not a time to make jokes.

"This little one isn't due until after Christmas," he says with a much gentler tone now, placing his hand back onto your bump. "They don't need a Christmas present, they'll already have everything they need when they pop out." He regrets his choice of words the second your eyes shoot up to his, knowing that 'pop' made it sound like an easy thing to do, which he'd been warned from almost every female member of his family that it was far from easy.

"When our baby's born," he says, trying again. "They'll have me and their beautiful mummy. And a whole family that loves them, what else could they need?"

Surprisingly, his words do offer comfort and a wave of relief washes over you as you feel calmed by the idea that the baby really did have everything they would need.

"Sorry," you say, feeling a fresh wave of shame taking over you at your slight overreaction, but Fred steps in again to give you a tight squeeze.

"Already the best mum," he whispers, rocking you gently as you stand holding each other, the Christmas lights illuminating the room in a magical display. You feel a little wiggle in your tummy and smile to yourself, your hand slipping down to cradle the spot where you could feel your little one stretching and rolling.

Everything was set for your arrival at the Burrow in the morning, the suitcase was packed with a mixture of your clothes and Fred's, everything down to your spare toothbrush. The gifts were wrapped and the cookies you'd baked earlier that mornings had been placed into a cute metal tin with a bow, placed on the table beside the front door so that you wouldn't forget them.

"Want me to load the car now?" Fred asks, poking his head around the bedroom door.

"I can help," you offer, only to be shut down a moment later by your husband.

"You will do not such thing," he says firmly, though his eyes are soft. "You are going to park your gorgeous little bum down onto the nearest, softest surface and rest."

"But."

"Doctor's orders princess," he winks, making you smile and relent, though you were hardly going to turn down the offer of sitting down for a while before bed, knowing you'd have an early start in the morning. Your back was twinging with discomfort, a crampy feeling radiating between your pelvis and your hips that made you curse yourself for the stupid idea of wrapping presents on a hard floor.

You walked downstairs to grab a warm drink and sit on the sofa with the hope of a warm fire and a Christmas film, stopping to peek out of the Christmas light filled window to watch Fred trying to fit all the presents in the boot of the car. Since you were so far into your pregnancy, almost every magical transportation option was now deemed unsafe, leaving you with only a handful of options for reaching the Burrow. Percy had very graciously secured a ministry car for you to borrow over the holidays, a fact that he was insistent upon repeating whenever it was even vaguely mentioned in conversation, including the precarious nature of securing the car during the ministry's busiest season. Regardless of your brother in laws self importance, you were thankful for his gesture and though the drive would be long, you were actually looking forward to it. You'd prepped snacks, both muggle and magical, had ensured to the point of obsession that the radio was fixed upon the muggle Christmas station so that your entire drive down would be filled with only the cheesiest Christmas songs and you'd even prepped some hot chocolate for the drive, placing two matching Christmas travel cups beside the kettle ready to make just before you left.

A loud crash pulled your attention right back to Fred as you watched him scrambling onto his feet, an array of once neatly wrapped packages on the floor around him. He looks around nervously before catching sight of you in the window, eyes widening, before he attempts to pick up the dropped presents.

Instantly you were moving to the door, your mind spiralling at the idea that they might be broken or wet from the snow, or if Fred was hurt in the skirmish.

"Are you okay?" You ask slightly breathlessly as you scramble to the door, trying to place your shoes on as quickly as you could.

"Sweetheart stay inside, it's icy and you're not coming out here until I can clear it," he says holding up a hand, eyes fixed on your bump as if you accentuate his words.

"What happened?" You ask, trying to steal a glance around his body to look for any damage to the presents that he was slowly picking up, stacking them high in his arms as he attempts to talk to you through a vision blocking stack of presents.

"Well I was trying to balance these ones and the bottom one slipped."

"You can't stack that many! No wonder they bloody fell!" You say, anger simmering under the surface as you watch more and more presents dangerously wobbling in his arms, swaying with the wind and from every movement he makes. "Stop stacking them so high."

"I can do it."

"Obviously you can't!" You snap, feeling the anger rising now from his obvious lack of care to the gifts that you had so painstakingly picked out and wrapped. "What if they're all broken?!"

"They're not all broken," he snarks.

"All? You mean there's broken ones?!" You exclaim, hardly able to push down your anger anymore. You and Fred hardly every argued, but when you did it was almost always a big one that lasted no more than five minutes before you were making up, sometimes longer if he was in the mood to sulk. Uncaring about the ice, you step outside and rush over to the back of the car where Fred continues to pick up the last of the presents from the ground, cringing at what follows when he picks up the very last one.

The telltale sound of damaged box fills your ears at a painfully ironic moment, the sound so obviously being something broken, shattered with the pieces rattling about inside. You gasp as you look upon the misshapen box, seeing the distinctive green wrapping paper all torn and wilted from the snow, knowing instantly what was inside, undoubtedly shattered beyond repair.

You're completely heartbroken at the sight before you and more angry with Fred than you ever remember being.

"You stupid git!" You say, hitting his arm as he turns to you with a look of apologetic shame, though you don't even remotely fall for it, too enraged to give a single thought to his feelings. "I told you that you couldn't carry that many! Now look what you've done!" The box falls from his hands again and lands in a heap on the floor, an ominous rattling crying out all the way down until it crashes upon making contact with the snow.

"It's just a present," he mumbles, trying to downplay the situation as he turns back towards the car, away from your body. His words and aversion to the situation only fuel your anger in the moment, seeing visions of his younger self so uncaring for the consequences of his actions even if it both directly and indirectly affected others.

"It's not just a present you git! It was Fleur's only Christmas present! You have no idea how long it took me to find it," you say, tears welling up in your eyes again as the anger turns to sorrow.'you knew how much she adored snow-globes, something from her childhood that she'd told you about in great detail one night at the Burrow. You'd gone searching around muggle antique stores for something within the brief and had been completely overwhelmed by the beauty of the snowglobe you found for her. It was a little over the budget but you didn't care, knowing how much she would love the beautifully ornate pink and gold filigree on the side, the tiny carousel horses inside that spun around with fine gold glitter covering the beautiful scene. It was decadent and beautiful, and now shattered in a box on your front drive, the glittery water leaking out of a large crack in the box and onto the snow.

"Just give her one of Ginny's," he says defensively, the hint of a shrug ghosting his coat-covered shoulders.

"Oh yeah perfect, because I'm sure she'd love a mug that says Mrs Potter to be!"

You march away from him in a foul mood, stomping your way back into the house as you close the door with a resounding slam, the wreath on the door quivering with the force.

It was the evening before Christmas Eve, you didn't have anything else to give her and you certainly couldn't show up empty handed for only one person, especially one that had become a good friend to you and who had admittedly struggled to fit in with the family at first. You felt wretched and suddenly wanted to stay at home, the idea of going to the Burrow now making you feel physically sick.

You winced as the pain in your back suddenly increased, making you grab ahold of the table beside the door for support as you felt it radiate through your back and settle into your pelvis.

"Look, why don't we just drop by somewhere on the way to mums? See if we can get a replacement." Fred says as he steps through the door, inevitably trailing snow throughout the hallway. You straighten up, recovering from the cramps and turn to him in disbelief, fresh annoyance consuming you again.

"It can't be replaced it was antique!"

"Well something similar then," he mumbles. You don't even fight his words, realising that he didn't have any semblance of idea of how hard you'd worked to make everything perfect for Christmas.

"You haven't even apologised," you huff, kicking off your shoes and wandering towards the kitchen, cringing at the pain that still remains in your lower back.

"What for?!" He asks, sounding mystified. "Hardly my fault I slipped, ice is icy funnily enough."

"Oh piss off Fred, you know it wasn't the ice," you spit out, reaching for a mug as you flick the kettle on again.

"I've had enough of this," he says angrily, marching right back out of the hall towards the front door that slams shut behind him. The silence that follows is almost suffocating as you stand looking at the place he stood only moments before.

The tears flowed freely now, though the gut wrenching sobs had stopped eventually. It had been around half an hour since your argument with Fred when you walked over to the door to attempt to reconcile, not wanting the stupid argument to ruin the last night in your home before tomorrows journey. It was getting late and you wanted to go to bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally and knew that stopping off somewhere tomorrow for a replacement gift for Fleur would only make your wake up call earlier. You sucked in a sharp breath when you stood up from the sofa, feeling a sharp pain shoot right up your pelvis and down your leg right to your toes, the cramping immediately resuming. You let out a few steady breaths and grabbed hold of your bump as if to help calm the pain and waddled towards the door.

When you saw that the car was no longer outside, with no sign of Fred anywhere and only tyre marks in the snow as proof, you knew instantly that he had left. Tears began to prickle at your eyes and you closed the door slowly with a weak shove, the tears coming once again. Fred had never left during an argument, had never just upped and decided to flee. You felt miserably guilty for your overreaction, even if it did seem deserved, and wished more than anything that you could just fix it and go to bed.

You went to make another cup of tea, needing the warmth and the comfort from the drink, the fire having long since died and the room feeling uncommonly chilly. A sharp pain suddenly radiated through your lower abdomen, like a crushing pain that tightened around your hips like a belt that was too small and you gasped, clutching hold of the counter as you waited for it to disappear. During your scramble to reach out for something solid to rest upon, the mug had been knocked to the side and you watched as your favourite mug tumbled to the floor, splintering at your feet into little ceramic shards.

The pain was increasing rather than disappearing and you felt the tightness all over your bump now. When it finally began to abate after a few seconds, your legs felt wobbly and you felt shaken, heart pounding and breathing unsteady as you tried to calm yourself. You barely managed to make it over to the sofa when the pain started again, radiating through your body with increasing intensity that felt like a wave slow building until it crashed upon the sand. You gripped the arm of the sofa as the apex of the pain consumed your body again, this time lasting even longer than before.

When the pain peaked, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the floor in front of the sofa, you realised with a sheer sense of panic that you were completely alone. You couldn't use the floo, couldn't apparate and now you also had no car to get you anywhere or to anyone. Your owl was delivering a message to the Burrow and still hadn't returned, clearly having flown to Wheezes instead, leaving you owl-less. You took long steady breaths when you could, relishing in the few moments of relief that came between your pains. It couldn't be labour, it just couldn't, even though logically you knew that it was more than possible as babies came when they were ready, not when you wanted them to.

You sighed when you felt another wave of pain starting in your extremities, rapidly increasing to a crushing pain around you back and in your last parts. The pain made you breathless and you could hardly believe how quickly things had escalated as you knelt on the floor trying to keep yourself calm but failing miserably in the middle of what you absolutely would not believe, but logically knew, was labour. You choked on a sob when you thought of Fred, that he'd left you at your most vulnerable time, that he'd miss the birth of your child and that you'd have to do this all alone. The plans you'd made for your birth were now completed ruined and you would no longer have the support of Molly, who had been overjoyed at being asked to support you. She was more than just your mother-in-law and after birthing seven children, there was no one else you trusted to guide you through labour. But now completely alone and trapped at home, would you survive? Women died in childbirth all the time, especially when birthing alone. What if the baby didn't survive? What if the cord was around their neck and you didn't know?

Almost like a switch had gone off in your mind, you focused on the task at hand, pushing all fear inducting thoughts out of your head and focused instead of what would be needed if you were going to do this alone. Warm towels, water, somewhere comfy for you to labour, somewhere warm and soft for the baby, baby clothes and a multitude of blankets. You looked towards the stairs and took a deep breath, trying your hardest to time yourself so that in the brief moments of reprieve you could climb the stairs to fetch what you'd need.

It took much longer than expected to collect everything you'd need, having to stop multiple times to cling onto the nearest surface and ride out the wave of pain that you could tell was getting worse and closer together. You'd barely made it down the stairs when another wave of pain hit you, making you stumble down the last step. You cried out at the searing pain that shot through you at the inadvertent step you'd taken, a lighting bolt of agony coursing through your pelvis, around your bump and settling deep in your groin. Your breath was shaky as you tried to recover from the pain but it didn't wane this time and instead focused purely in the centre of your pelvis. You notice by chance that it's past midnight now, the jingle of the little Christmas-themed muggle clock taunting you as to the announcement of a new day. Christmas Eve and you were alone, left to give birth entirely alone.

It takes everything you gave no to cry out, focusing instead on taking deep breaths and emitting a low groan as a way of vocalising your pain. You eventually make it back to the sofa, surrounded by all the things you'd need and allow yourself a little sob as you look at the equipment surrounding you, like an ominous scene of foreboding. Whatever motivation and strength you had previously momentarily slipped away and you allowed yourself to cry, both for the unrelenting pain and for your heartbreaking situation.

You let out another cry when a pain much stronger and more direct than before hits you full on, a crushing feeling from the inside that makes you feel lightheaded. You scramble to look down when you suddenly feel something wet beneath you, bringing your hand up to your legs to try and decipher what had caused it. You fight through another pain to pry off your wet bottoms and cast them aside, praying that you don't see any blood between your thighs. It's clear, the liquid that drips down your thighs, small sudden gushes turning to small drops as you battle to get a towel underneath you.

You're on all fours again, trying your hardest to take stabilising breaths when you hear the sound of the front door open.

"Fred!" You cry out in hope and desperation, the wail that falls from your lips an accumulation of the physical and emotional pain. It's the scream that you had wanted so desperately to let out as your body burns internally.

He's beside you in seconds and couldn't have been quicker if he'd apparated between the door and the living room. Your head falls forward as another contraction takes over, the sudden need to push consuming every instinct within you.

"I'm here sweetheart, I'm here it's okay," he coos, his hand instinctively reaching for your lower back as you circle your hips, trying desperately to bring relief.

You look up into his eyes and can see that he looks completely torn, eyes washing over your form as his mind whirls trying to formulate a plan. He looks completely overwhelmed under the surface, as much as he's pretending to be calm, panicked by the sudden chance in circumstances.

"Look sweetheart, I need to fetch mum, I'll be back in five minutes tops, I'll apparate right there and right back, can you handle that?"

He barely gets the words out before you scramble to reach out for him, clutching the bottom of his shirt desperately as you cringe from the movement of your torso.

"No please Freddie, please don't leave me alone again," you beg, already crying from the thought alone as you cling into him, tears streaming down your face. You're terrified of being alone again, desperate for him to stay by your side. You're scared and in pain, unable to think clearly.

"I won't leave," he says with a nod, trying to calm you, his brows knitting together as he tries to think of a backup. It's too late to drive you to St Mungo's and there's no way to side along apparate with you safely, especially now that labour had begun.

He does the only thing he can think of and pulls out his wand to cast his patronus, watching with a dwindling sense of hope that it would reach its destination quickly.

He pockets his wand again and turns his full attention back to you, trying to push some pressure into your back to relieve the pain in anyway he can, gently reminding you to take slow and deep breaths. There's so much that he needs to say to you, to apologise for, but that can wait until later, knowing that his focus had to be on you right now.

"Fred I need to push," you say with staggered breaths, a thin sheet of sweat covering your forehead.

"I know sweetheart, just a couple more minutes okay?" He says, still squatting down beside you. He prays to Merlin and to anyone else that might be listening for this to go well, for his patronus to have worked and failing that, for it to be an easy birth. He wasn't prepared for this, just a prankster turned businessman that had no knowledge of women's bodies beyond putting the baby there... getting it out was a completely different matter.

"That's it sweetheart, you are doing so well, I'm so proud of you," he says, pushing back your hair that had stuck to your sweaty head, reaching for one of the little hand towels towels and enchanting it so that it was wet and cool before rubbing it softly over your forehead. You moan out and he hardly knows if it's because of the cooling sensation or because of the pain, but when you pull his washcloth holding hand back up to your forehead, he's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You are so strong princess, you're doing so well," he coos, trying his hardest to support you in your time of need. Truthfully, he was baffled how your body was doing this. You looked like you were in excruciating pain but yet you still carried on for the sake of the baby, your strength and resilience astounding him.

He jolts when he hears the telltale roar of flames in the fireplace and his heart leaps at the thought, had his patronus worked?

"Where is my, oh my dear!" Molly Weasley steps out of the floo induced flames of their fireplace and directly into the living room, giving herself a good shake as she spots her daughter in law on all fours in obvious labour. She pulls out her wand and casts a spell over herself that cleans off any sign of fireplace soot, then blasts the fireplace so that the regular flames resume to heat the home.

"Oh my dear," she rushes over, moving to kneel beside her daughter in law whose face scrunched up in pain, a silent scream of anguish falling from her lips.

"You should have got me sooner!" She points an accusing finger at her son who looks equal parts guilty and mortified as she strikes your hair out of your face, her eyes flicking between concern and anger between the two of you.

"I... I told him it wouldn't be yet," you stammer, hardly able to form the words. "I need to push!"

"Fred make yourself useful! Just like your father sat idly about, fetch some more towels and pillows from the bed, honestly you men." Molly surges into caring mode and for once Fred does exactly as she says without any backchat or hesitation. Her very presence is reassuring to you and you feel instantly calmed just by having her by your side.

"Well I have to say it, you do make beautiful babies," Molly coos as she looks at the three of you huddled together on the bed. Fred looks tired but peaceful, his arm wrapped protectively around you as your new baby stays latched on to your breast, bundled in soft blankets that her grandma had knitted especially for her. You're exhausted but overwhelmingly happy, and perhaps a little bit shocked by how quickly everything had progressed throughout the day and night.

"Right I'm off, as long as you're all okay? Oh I can't wait to tell your father he'll be overjoyed! I'm only an owl away if you need anything and I mean that, yes?"

"Thank you, for allowing me to experience this. I have a feeling this little one will be my favourite yet," Molly smiles as she leans down to glide her fingers across the little one's cheek lovingly. She looks up to you and smiles warmly, leaning down to give you a kiss on top of your head. "And very well done dear, you did brilliantly."

Fred walks his mother out, knowing that she had never liked apparating and would be using the floo to get home. You can hear their voices as they go downstairs but you can't hear what's being said and you look down at the cooing baby in your arms, watching her closed eyes and quick but steady breaths. She really is perfect, her little button nose, long lashes and tuft of distinctive red hair that was currently hidden beneath her little hat. 10 fingers, 10 toes and a striking resemblance to her dad that after the intense labour you'd just endured felt like a hilarous but tiny smack in the face.

When Fred returns, he's beaming. He pauses, leaning against the doorframe as he looks at the sight before him, his girls.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" He asks, gently climbing onto the bed beside you.

"Exhausted," you say with a laugh, trying hard not to jiggle the little one too much with your laughter. "But I'm happy."

"Me too. Here, let me take her so you can get some rest."

You want to protest but you're worried your eyes will close at any second even though you're trying your hardest to keep them open, your body just too exhausted. You hand Fred the sleeping baby, passing her over gently like she could shatter at any moment from being so fragile and within moments of your head touching the pillow, you're out like a light.

"Wait till you meet your uncle George, and auntie Ginny, and uncle Percy, and Ron, and Charlie and Bill... there's a lot of them to remember I know, but it's mainly uncle George and Auntie Angelina you have to remember kid. Don't even get me started on the others, aunt Hermione, uncle Harry, auntie Fleur and then there's your granny and grandad."

"Trying to bore her back to sleep with your family tree?" You smile, noticing Fred and your little girl cuddled together in the little armchair in the corner next to her bassinet. He huffs a laugh, turning to you with so much adoration in his eyes that it momentarily leaves you breathless.

"Just getting her up to speed," he smirks, reaching down with his hand to grab her hand gently, "you going to say good morning to your beautiful mummy?" He gently manipulated her hand so that she gives you a little wave and you laugh, sitting up in bed with a slight wince.

"So I guess Fred Jr is off the table now eh?" He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he stands up from the chair, bringing your daughter over to you, her face a perfect picture of contentment.

"It was never on the table," you say with a smirk, greedily reaching for your daughter.

"Well you surprised us little one," Fred says to his daughter as she begins to stir. "Thought we'd be naming you something new yearsey, but you're a little Christmas Angel."

As if the concept of time and days had just returned to you, you realise that your daughter was born on Christmas Eve, your own little Christmas miracle.

"Holly?" Fred suggests, your nose scrunching up at the suggestion, not liking how obvious it was.

"What about Evangeline?" You ask, looking down at the sweet face, trying to weight up what name suited her the most. "Nickname Eve or Evie?"

"Evangeline Weasley..." Fred muses, as if trying it out for himself, "I love it." He beams, as if the missing puzzle piece has just slotted in to place.

"Merry Christmas little Evangeline," he coos, watching as she yawns, her eyes opening with a little squint as if by some miracle, answering to her name. Fred kisses you and you're happier than you've felt in a long time, the heartbreak of yesterday long forgotten and forgiven as you celebrate your first Christmas together as a family of 3.

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fountainpenguin · 20 hours ago

Text

"She's gonna cut my head off... but I don't caaare! They say, 'You clean up nice... Just like a dead man! Like a dead man!'" (x)

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New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 42 - “Raider Reunion (Martyn, Etho, Impulse, BigB)”

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💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

“Hey, everybody! Welcome back. My name is Josh, and we’re glad to see you here. Pleasure to meet you. Mumbo; it’s been a while. Etho! I just saw your twin and niece. He’s good with kids. She’s… not.” You both know this guy? BigB tries to sneak a glance at either one of them, but the only response he gets is Mumbo’s shrug. “I’m BigB,” he tells the enderman, still focused on the man’s neck area more than on his face. “I don’t shake. I’m an illusioner underneath the moth mods; from knox ZnHeITtk HTvkH IkItn. What are you guys doing out here?” If his terse refusal to touch hands bothers Josh, he doesn’t show it. He does, however, break into a wider smile. “Well, thanks for joining us today. We’re setting up for one of my favorite games: Is There a Limit? Specifically… Is there a limit to how many people we can have waterskiing behind a dragon at the same time?” “… What’s waterskiing?”

Scott gave BigB until sunset to talk to his old raider friends. BigB didn't bring a clock.

Meanwhile, Impulse seeks help for his goo problem and Martyn breaks into Cleo's house. Just a typical day in New Star Station...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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InTheLittleWood

Location: Approaching wool farm, North New Star Station

🖤 🌕 🖤

Are you sure you can handle this? Every twitch in Martyn’s form screams at him to voice the question. Spikes and feathers twist inside his hearts. Nostrils flare. Maybe that’s why Bdubs blurts out his words without thinking them through: because keeping a shut jaw fills a guy with alligator wriggles. Technically, the proper way to sort out this lack of faith would be to take it to the sparring ring, but Martyn can’t do that either… Not with Rosejoy’s rippling muscles a hand’s breadth from his own. Hey, she has claim on the Fox Dragon’s turf. That can’t be an accident. And if it was, then it’d be just my luck that lightning strikes her twice.

“You did all right out there,” Martyn tells her, which is less direct than asking why she challenged Impulse in the first place. You think she knew she’d lose upfront? Huh. Maybe she gets drunk on the way people talk. They’ll have gossip and clip compilations for days.

Chunky fingers tighten around his own. Martyn looks down to the wobbly eyes of a much lower-XP phantom hybrid clinging to his hand. “What about me?”

“Aww, you too, slugger. You really showed Baker what-for. All tuckered out now, are we? Yeah…”

Lucky rubs a fist across his eye. It hides a yawn, but Martyn’s hearts spring forward like rabbits when the arrows come a’flyin’. The foxes he hatched would’ve liked to eat rabbit, actually. Martyn pats Lucky behind the shoulder, but throws a glance to Rosejoy to see if she caught what just happened there. And the stare she returns, uh… answers that question pretty dang well.

Sleepy kid. His energy’s dropping fast. The portals are still down, so there’s no dodging this by jumping AFK. We need more food. If Bdubs will listen long enough to follow orders-

“Aw, Lucky’s gonna love hanging with me,” Rosejoy butts in, thwapping him with the end of her tail. She caught Martyn on the way, which was probably the point.

And you’re sure? he wants to ask again. Lucky’s a member of the New Star flock; he’s never been alone with Rosejoy before. Mental ping after mental ping fires down Martyn’s spine. Rival captain bad. Rival captain take or kill. Brrr. That’ll wake you up in the morning. That’ll give you shivers all the way ‘til bed.

“So, what’s the big guy’s story?” Rosejoy asks, moving a few steps away. The shift of her wings and the grimace of his lips paint a picture Martyn only dares to imagine from the outside looking in: Two flock captains testing one another’s boundaries; they maintain a truce ‘cuz someone outside told them so. It sure ain’t instinct keeping the rules intact. She continues, bouncing every step. “Who would mod out of being a phantom with a wingspan like that? I bet wind resistance runs from him!”

Oh, it does. The glitter in her eye ripples Martyn to his core. The swing in her tail’s a little too lax for a guest who’s got everything to lose with raiders in her home. The soft smirk’s a little too wide. She doesn’t want to lead him aboveground… Does she? Will the Lone Spruce refugees even be allowed aboveground when the coast is clear? Unsure. And Martyn wonders then, with a quickening through his hearts… whether Impulse - if offered the chance to rejoin a flock - would actually say ‘Yes.’

I mean, I don’t see any reason Scott could refuse him, right? Impulse can fly. He’s got the wings, the strength, the speed… If the phantoms get to go, why wouldn’t he?

“Ah, just medical reasons,” he says anyway, clinging tighter to Lucky’s hand. “Nice guy. Just super pent-up, if you know what I mean. I just feel sorry for his wife. He can’t target anymore, y’know? There go the love hearts.”

“He can’t hunt?”

“Lost his soul teeth. We keep him fed.” We have a system. He’s with us. So back off. He can’t ascertain from her silence whether the implication came across, printed in his tone, but at least Rosejoy doesn’t press the topic harder. Seriously, she hovered around Impulse enough back there at the squall- Did you hear the stuff she asked him?

There should be enough souls left in storage to keep Lucky going. Martyn looked through the mess with Bdubs last night. Bdubs still has a few in his soul pouch, but whether he shares is anyone’s guess. Like Hels he will, Martyn gripes, because Bdubs already made his position quite clear when he caught Cleo offering a feed: That’s the captain’s job. And he’s not the captain.

Really, though? To refuse a kid? Technically Bdubs didn’t refuse Lucky, but Martyn’s not about to ask him to share. Not before exhausting all his options. And maybe not even then.

We prep the nest. I feed the kid. Simple, simple two-step plan. And if it comes to it, there will be no asking. It’ll be a demand straight from his mouth to Bdubs’ ears. And the boss better listen up if he knows what’s good for him.

Their first stop is for more blankets from the wool farm. Last night everyone was restless, off and on the roosting platform for hours. Martyn brought out the board games and Bdubs did a little improv show - a little open mic night - but the fewer souls they’ve got on hand, the more exhausted everyone will get. What’s wrong with a little cuddle pile? Aw, roosting’s such an effort. Nobody says that, but they could! And you don’t grow up to be Martyn InTheLittleWood unless you’ve learned to be prepared.

Mumbo used to compliment me on random stuff in my inventory. Cleo too, but this is Sad Times About Mumbo right now. Martyn is trying very, very hard not to think about Cleo. Just check the moon and her AFK status if you wanna take a crack at why.

“Lucky, keep your hands behind your back. You’ll spook the villagers, remember? They’ll run.”

“Okay.”

“That’s why I wear the hoodie,” Rosejoy says, keeping back. When Martyn shoots a glance at her, debating whether to shoo her even farther off (Because let’s be real, three approaching phantoms would get anyone’s hackles up, even if they’re on foot), she just smiles. “You go on and do your thing. I’m barracking for you.”

The villagers regard Rosejoy with way too much apprehension to approach the fence. Martyn can read it in their shoulders; not even Meriwo will get close, and it’s the village headman. Martyn pulls his hoodie sleeves over his hands and hops the fence the old-fashioned way. He can’t speak the villager language and New Star’s mobs sure as hell aren’t sparked, but he’ll find a way. He’ll use bold gestures with his arms.

“Oh, this’d be so much easier if they didn’t scramble off when they see sign language.” Or if I had BigB and Cleo out here.

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