#the way i was sobbing aloud “HE HAS TO SEE HIS DAD AGAIN”

[redeemed-wren]

CanNOT stop thinking about how Adolin lost:

His leg

His father

His best friend

Maybe his aunt/step-mother

Maybe his wife

[desultory-novice]

...My muse is fickle and HIGHLY opportunistic and hearing @deepseamuse share their idea for a bad ending to Apologies where Adeleine refuses to leave Noir's side at Shiver Star, we~ll...

:guilty cough:

I-found-myself-writing-my-own-take-on-how-such-a-conversation-between-the-two-of-them-might-fall-before-I-knew-what-was-happening-I'm-so-sorry!

My apologies, Noir Defense Force... Unlike other writers, I have only tragic siblings for you today...

"Snowflakes"

Warning: This story is SO self-indulgent of me 200% pure melancholy, bittersweet Dess (scriptfic) angst

-

:At the gates, Noir sees his sister off with a pained smile: :But she plants her feet, spinning back toward him:

Adeleine: "...I won't go."

:Noir shakes his head, gently chiding:

Noir: "Adeleine. C'mon." Adeleine: "Not without you, Noir!" Noir: "It's...It's not possible, okay? Not on this ride up, at least." Adeleine: "Okay. Then my going is impossible too!" Noir: "Don't be stubborn. Why're you acting like a kid about this?" Adeleine: "I AM a kid. And you're only three years older, Noir!"  "Are you my brother or are you trying to be dad...?"

:Adeleine is beginning to shake, worry taking root in her:

Adeleine: "...Let's just wait till we can go together, please?" Noir: "We're already here. This is the better option. Trust me." "And I'll find you again soon. I swear it." "It'll be so fast you won't notice I wasn't there the whole time!" Adeleine: "...I don't want us to be separated, Noir." "Not for any length of time!" Noir: "It's not..." "Adeleine, that's..."

:Noir grits his teeth hard, the pressure building in him snaps:  :In a moment of weakness, he voices his own fears aloud:

Noir: "We're going to be separated anyway..." Adeleine: "...Noir? What do you mean by that...?"

:He looks away, regretting ever opening his stupid mouth:

Adeleine: "What is it? What's going to happen?" Noir: "...Nothing. It's nothing, okay?" Adeleine: "Noir!" Noir: "Just forget I said anything, all right?!" Adeleine: "Now who's being stubborn?! Talk to me!"

:He tries to turn away from her, she grabs his hand to pull him back:

:He yanks it away quickly, only for his glove to slip off with it: :She sees his withered, blackened hand:

Adeleine: "...Your hand..."

:She looks up at him in shock and finally sees it: :That's not just his turtleneck pulled up extra high: :The decay has extended all the way to his jaw:

Adeleine: "Your neck too...? "...What is that? I-It's all over you..." "Noir...? Are you sick...?"

:Noir balls his fists, unable to face her: :Facing her means telling the truth:

Noir: "Just go... please..." "...I'm begging you." Adeleine: "N-Noir... Noir, I'm scared..."

:Adeleine is shaken, her gaze unfocused: :Noir kneels down next to her, trying to calm both of them:

Noir: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I messed up, Adeleine... Badly." "And this time... was worse than all the others." Adeleine: "Y-You're gonna be okay though, right?"  "Tell me you're going to be okay?"

:He take a half-hearted shot at faking the worst lie ever:

Noir: "......Yeah. Yeah, I mean, when have I not been fine? It's okay...!"

:But even if she wants to believe this lie too, she can't:

Adeleine: "No... You don't mean it though... Tell me the truth, Noir!" Noir: "The truth is..." "...I can't stop what's happening to me."  "And I don't think I've got long left. That's why you have to go."

:Adeleine shakes her head, panic taking over:

Adeleine: "Mm-mm. Mm-mm. No, no. Noir, no. Nononono..." Noir: "Adeleine..." Adeleine: "Nononononononononono..." Noir: "Get on the ship, Adeleine." Adeleine: "Nononononononononnononono...!" Noir: "Ade-..." Adeleine: "Wa...-Waaaaaahhhh!!"

:She breaks into childlike, inconsolable sobbing: :Noir bites his lip, realizing she won't leave on her own now: :He gets up, shouts at a guard some distance away:

Noir: "You! This girl's a passenger, right?! Get her on board already!" Guard: "I'll need to double-check with-..." Noir: "She's already cleared for passage, dammit!" "Could we have gotten this close to the gates if she wasn't?!" "Get...her...on...the...ship! Now!"

:Noir is as threatening as your average scrawny teenager: :But he is right about passing through all the gates:

Guard: "...All right. Come on, you." "You had time to say your goodbyes." Adeleine: "Noooooooo!"

:Adeleine cries as the guard lifts her up off her feet:

Noir: "Goodbye, Ade-..." "...Gh?!"

:Noir falls to his knees, negativity causing the corruption to spike: :Adeleine kicks and punches to free herself from the guard:

Adeleine: "NOIR!" Guard: "Hey! Stop struggling!" Noir: "...G-guh! ...H-Hgh...!!"

:Bent over, Noir vomits sizzling black goo onto the ground:  :Cloudy, dark particles rise menacingly into the air: :Adeleine slips free as the guard backs away in shock:

Adeleine: "Noir! Noir!" Noir: "S-stay...away..." Guard: "?! The hell is that stuff?! Shit!"  "Security here; I need the bio team on this, stat!" "We got some kind of potential toxin or pathogen or something! "Tell the launch team to seal the shuttle and go!" Noir: "N-No...!" Adeleine: "Noir... Noir..." Noir: "A-Ade...leine..."

:Adeleine clings to Noir, sobbing: :The "bio team" arrives. Fully suited and fully armed:

Team: "You said there was some kind of contaminate?" Guard: "Over there! It's them! It's the children...!" "I think they're carriers for some experimental disease!" Team: "...Sickos. Thinking they can get by us using kids..."

:As the the security guard masks up and flees, the helmeted bio team leader looks impassively at the two huddled children; Adeleine in tears while Noir, still sick, stares daggers at the leader:

Team: "Hate to do this when there are hardly any of you left but..." "...We can't risk anything getting into this sector. My apologies."

:Flamethrowers are aimed at Noir and Adeleine:

Team:"Squad. On my command-!" Noir: "Rgh...! DAMMIT...!!"

:Noir hugs Adeleine in his arms and squeezes his eyes shut; the Dark Matter Blade is summoned before him as he uses his powers to teleport them away in a swirling vortex of darkness:

:They reappear in the familiar back alleys of the shelter district:

Noir: "...Huff... huff..."  "Adeleine?! Are you here...?!" Adeleine: "Yeah..." Noir: "...You're not hurt, are you...?"

:He touches her cheek with a gloved hand to be sure she's there: :He had never teleported with another person and wasn't sure he could:

Adeleine: "No. But, Noir..."

:She's too shaken to finish what she was saying: :He lets go of her and falls back into the cold snow:

Noir: "Heh... I really ruined everything, huh...?" Adeleine: "Nuh-uh... You didn't. Cause you're still here..." 

:Adeleine nestles up as close as she can to him:

Adeleine: "...Stay. We have to stay together, Noir..." "Mom and dad made us promise to watch out for each other." Noir: "...I know. That's how I know...I messed up as bad as I did..." "And it's all thanks to this stupid thing..."

:He yanks at his scarf, revealing the control gear turned collar:

Adeleine: "Is that...the thing that lets you call your sword...?" Noir: "And some other stuff. Like that teleportation trick."

:Adeleine sits up and attempts to take it off him: :She can't even slip her small fingers through to pry at it:

Adeleine: "Ngh! It's...so tight around your neck." "...How does this come off again?" Noir: "It doesn't. Not anymore. Heh... I told you I messed up..."

:He smiles, blocking his eyes with the back of a withered hand: :He is finally confessing all the things he should have earlier:

Noir: "I thought I could protect you with it. Become stronger." "So, I kept on wearing it... Way longer than I should have."  "And...I used it...to do some really awful stuff..." "Raquelle... I'm the reason she's gone..."

:This day has already been so traumatic for Adeleine she doesn't even know how to begin to react to the news of their friend's death:

Adeleine: "Noir..." Noir: "Whatever justifications I thought I had..." "...I wish I hadn't done any of it now." "You and I could have just stayed as we were." "But wearing it connected me...to something dark." "I feel it now, always at the back of my mind."

:He pulls his hand away, his eyes a thousand yards away:

Noir: "It's like a void... But it's teeming too... Constant whispers..." "It's coming for me, soon. It even has a spot lined up special." "There's no escaping it now... When it gets out, e-...I..."

:Adeleine slips back into the crook of his arm, holding onto him:

Adeleine: "...You're not allowed to leave." "You're not allowed to leave, Noir." Noir: "...I don't want to leave you either..."

:His voice cracking, he turns to hug her tight: :They stay snuggled together in the cold snow: :No more painstakingly crafted illusions and lies: :Just two kids facing a cruel fate with aching honesty:

:After a time, Adeleine whispers softly:

Adeleine: "...I just want to lay here until we become snowflakes..." "You and I...would melt together. Then we'd never have to be apart..." Noir: "...Heh. You're so warm, you'd turn us into water in no time..." Adeleine: "I'd still follow you... Wherever you flowed off to..."

Noir: "...Maybe the ocean. We could finally have that beach trip?" "But, Adeleine, you deserve so much more than that." "Not being stuck with me..."

Adeleine: "Don't you deserve anything nice, Noir...?" Noir: "...That's a silly question."

"...I already got something beyond precious."

-

It was a most unusual form of salvation...

People who believe in The Theory of the Four Matters have suggested that the various types can counteract or overpower each other, existing in a cycle of destructive mutual domination. Still others believe that when two forms of matter come into close contact, they are capable of peacefully transmuting into a third.

...Darkness and Soul...

Is it any surprise Dream would emerge from their union? 

Those who saw the sleeping "snowflake" children, whom nothing could wake nor separate, nor could anything harm, had no doubts they were protected by a most powerful form of Dream Matter. All that was left to question is, were their dreams happy ones...? 

Though that too could be answered with a glance at their faces.

-

[Apologies AU Masterpost]

-

Author Notes:

The last part is based around the theory that Soul Matter is related to life (the soul forms being based around a powerful desire to live) and that art in Kirby is often treated as "the giving of life."

So, in this situation, while Noir is a perfect container for an immense amount of Dark Matter (why he is unusually powerful and capable even as a drone) Adeleine is the same for Soul Matter (why she is unusually good at imbuing life into her creations)

After the disastrous, highly traumatizing events at the spaceport, with nothing left but each other, the two privately but simultaneously wished for time to stop and to never have to be separated. It came true as they fell asleep in each other's arms...

"Will this version of them ever be saved?"

^^; Like the text says, it's a most unusual form of salvation, but in a weird way, they kinda are saved? At least from present dangers (Noir's corruption has ceased while they are like this, and both are protected from starvation or freezing. As implied by the last line, they are living better (?) happier lives than they ever got in reality within their everlasting, idealistic dreamscape.)

Even as I was writing it, I realized once the situation rolled out of hand and Adeleine learned Noir's fate, there was no simple way to solve this. He could force Adeleine to leave him or talk to her until he had convinced her leaving was the best choice, but she would never be truly happy knowing what she knows. (And they were never getting that good of a chance to get her off planet again either.)

Meanwhile she could stay with him and try use all the powers at her disposal (drawing magical hacksaws and drillbits XD) but Noir had only been holding on as long as he had to see her off, and in main Apologies, dies soon after she leaves. She has no means of saving him nor freeing him from eternal bondage to Zero. Not alone, that is.

...But if you prefer your Shiver Siblings alive, conscious, and free of the looming specter of death, luckily, Kirby of the Stars is a powerful enough channel for Dream Matter that he could awaken/free them.

At least, XX number of years later when he finally visits Shiver Star in Kirby 64. Plus, Zero would be gone by then! Though 02.... >.>

(I'm betting there's a crystal shard near them also! You probably have to use the very cursed Burn-Spark power combo to melt the snow to get close enough to the two; red + yellow being the puzzle's color "hint," courtesy of Noir's perpetually ugly scarf XD)

-

PS: I'm rather shocked how well my fake game hint above works with the power combos, their colors, and Noir's scarf?! Go, muse~!

[jupiter---daydreams]

thanks to @agirlandherquill for the tag!!

rules: for every letter of the alphabet, compose a sentence/short paragraph beginning with that letter

(im technically cheating since I'm using sentences from my wip and not making them for this challenge)

A: “And you remember the kind of impression we're going for?” Mr. Fyre speaks up again, looming over my shoulder to speak into my ear.

B: Being in a car–especially now that it's moving–sets off every nerve in my body.

C: Caleb takes it and his eyes start to flick from the photo to me to the photo to me. We’ve done this before and I know that he’s trying to see if I look like either of them. To see if there’s still a connection.

D: Despite those thoughts, feelings, and impending panic attack, I force a smile–not that they can see with my mask on, but you can sort of hear it in my voice–before I reply.

E: Exorcist stands the second that he stops talking. “No thanks. We’ll take whatever you have back to our base–Verse, you’re welcome to join us–and we’ll get out of here.”

F: Finally, he says, “Can the story be about Mom and Dad?”

G: “Glad to be here, sir. I’ve always been a fan,” I say, not a single truthful word present in that sentence.

H: Hopefully that’ll get Mr. Fyre off my back later, but knowing him, he’ll find something else to pick at me for.

I: I lay down on my own bed, too big and too empty, with a muted sob.

J: Judging from the way Exorcist clings to Emote’s side and even Null’s face is pulled into a tight frown, they certainly feel it, too.

K:

“Kid?”

He knows. How does he know!? I’ve only known him for, what, a few hours? Am I that easy to read? Oh god, when Mr. Fyre and Ms. Monsley find out they’re going to kill me.

L: Like he doesn’t understand what training means. Then, I have the strange thought that maybe their version of training is different than Ms. Monsley’s.

M:

My eyebrows shoot up. That was…childish.

A shocked, startled laugh comes out of Null. Apparently, I had said that aloud.

N: Nulls raises his hand, only speaking once Mr. Merced gives him an affirmative nod. “That’s not a lot of time to prepare. Why so sudden?” He asks. It's startling how serious he sounds. All joking, laid backness is gone from his voice. This is Null.

O: Of course. They–a Hero that has good cause to get revenge, a Hero that can sense emotions, and Null, too, I guess–are the ones I’m meant to be working with. Is it even possible for me to have worse luck?

P: Patrick lets the audience laugh for a moment, then he says, “Now, Verse, I can't speak for the audience, but I will when I say we've all been wanting to know one question. What is your powerset?”

Q: Right, the mission. I nod, silently returning to my area. I can practically feel the stares of the others on my back, and a quick glance back confirms it. Exorcist isn’t even trying to hide that she’s staring.

R: Right. The DNA sample that I definitely knew about and am totally not just finding out about right now. By the way, let's give a big round of applause to Ms. Monsley and Mr. Fyre for always keeping me in the loop.

S:

She. Can. Sense. Emotions. 

Get your spiraling under control.

T:

That leaves Exorcist without anything else to say, and she huffs, crossing her arms and turning away.

Emote's eyes flicker to me and I mentally prepare myself for a lecture, but Null lets out a snort of laughter–at my expense, no doubt–and Emote swivels her head to face him instead.

U: “Uh, Emote, Exorcist?” I call out as they start to leave the table we had gathered around. They turn, expectantly. “I was wondering if I could, uh, grab your powers now?”

V: “Verse, I really don't think you respect me. And that bothers me, because I am someone who deserves to be respected. So, watch your tone,” he pauses then and I can't bring myself to look him in the eyes.

W: A thought strikes me suddenly: how would any other child react? Would they throw a tantrum? Would they cry? Would they forgive me like Caleb?

X: For good measure–extra humiliation–she puts the sharp point to my throat. It digs in with a small prick of pain, letting out a bead of blood.

Y: “You’ve been contacted by ASPI. They want you to be involved with a mission. There weren’t many details, just a time and place for a briefing meeting, and a list of the other Heroes you’ll be working with.”

Z: I’ve been threatened by enough scary women to make me ready to back off–explanation be damned– but Emote stops me before I can even start to apologize.

[bowlofworms]

I keep thinking about this nonstop and I have THOUGHTS!

Two movies, split by Jason’s death into his time as Robin and his start as the Red Hood.

Obviously the first movie (which I wanna call “Robin:” and something relating to Jason’s “Robin made me magic” thing) ends with these three final scenes:

Jason’s funeral and the tragedy and tom-fuckery Bruce pulled with that whole thing. Jason looking so little in his coffin (he was 4’6” and 87 lbs when he died). The post-mortem makeup only being able to do so much. The funeral just being Bruce and Alfred. Paparazzi flashes way off in the distance. Being buried next to Catherine Todd.

A soundless shot of Dick arguing with Bruce (finding out that Jason died), then sprinting off into the cemetery. As he starts running the long distance to Gotham Cemetery (because Jason wasn’t buried in the Wayne Family Cemetery and I have FEELINGS on that), the dusky sky darkening into night, the rain beginning to pelt, we start to hear Dick read the first chapter of Pride and Prejudice, we see him fall to his knees in front of Jason’s grave. The voice reading is steady, obviously from Dick visiting the grave at a later date, but the Dick on screen is soaking wet in the Gotham rain and messy sobbing on his knees at Jason’s grave. Through a couple of rough fades we see Dick eventually get up and leave. Zoom in on Jason’s grave.

The final shot fades from the previous zoom on Jason’s grave to the same shot, but time has obviously passed (fallen leaves/slushy snow on the October/November ground as opposed to the freshly turned April soil) a single hand bursts through the ground. Screen cuts to black, we hear Jason cry out for Bruce (maybe even calling him Dad)

The beginning of the second movie (which I think would be fun to call Robin II) we hear the echoing of Jason’s cry from the ending of the first movie. We see him finish crawling out of the dirt and look around, obviously confused. Then we see him start to get more confused, and eventually catatonic. Very 100-yard stare. We watch him amble about Gotham in his dirt and mud covered suit, eventually being found by Talia who immediately recognizes him.

We see some of his early league training (and young Damian!) while he’s still not 100% there, we see little pieces of Jason creep through here and there, but Talia hasn’t tried to restore his mind with the Lazarus Pit yet. All of the pre-pit scenes are shot in a way that is also a bit disorienting to us the viewer so we are also experiencing a little of what Jason is. Sudden time skips, weird angles, even a Jason POV once or twice.

We see a mirror to the scene in the first movie when he chooses the tire iron over the crow bar. A large table with many, many, weapons that Jason learns to use. We hear a voice say “pick” and see one disappear as Jason is trained in it, this repeats over and over. There is a crowbar amongst a bunch of improvised weapons. Jason never picks it. The table is clear of everything but the crowbar. The voice says “pick” and Jason stands at the table, eyes glazed over, then turns around and stands at attention, like the table is empty.

We see Jason and young Damian. Jason, who has never spoken since he called out for Bruce, ambles about. We see him usher Damian into bed and tuck him in, much to Damian’s confusion. We see Jason walk over to a bookshelf and look at the books. His eyes settle on Pride and Prejudice, and we hear the very faint sound of Dick reading it aloud (the same track from the end of the first movie.) He grabs the book and sits at the bedside. He opens it, and stares at the pages, and then stares at Damian, who has never been tucked into bed before nor has been read a bedtime story. Jason’s vacant eyes scan the pages. He turns the pages several pages at a time. He closes the book and opens it again. He flips the pages. He still never says a word. We can see he’s so, so confused, but determined because he KNOWS this is important even though he has not a clue why or even what he’s doing. Camera angle changes so we’re peeking through the door at the sight of Jason so broken and gone that he cannot figure out how to read a bedtime story, but not gone enough that he still knows that Damian SHOULD be read a bedtime story and that no one else is doing it, so he must. It zooms out to Talia peeking through the door with us. Screen fades to black.

Suddenly the entire screen is neon green. Jason bursts through the water, his eyes shining neon green and he’s screaming and violent. He remembers nothing after digging himself out of his own grave, but retains the skills he learned. He doesn’t know why he can use a sword or shoot a gun or why he’s so angry and the world is so so green but he can and he is. From this point onwards, there is a green tint on the screen unless we’re viewing back in Gotham, filled with more reds than we remember. The green fades a bit over time, but ramps up whenever the madness consumes him.

There's a post about wanting a story about Jason's time as Robin. I made a reblog of it so long ago, but I can't stop thinking about it.

I want to watch Jason's flight as Robin, but the entire story he's haunted by the future we all know is going to come.

When he first grabs his tire iron, he has the choice of taking a crowbar instead.

Subtle purples or greens pop up when he's in danger (but not necessarily the Joker).

He frees a bird trapped inside a warehouse.

He rescues a kid who was kidnapped by their mom and returns them to their dad.

So many dead or injured birds

While helping Alfred with gardening, he breaks a nail

Gun magazines at many scenes

Motorcyclists wearing red helmets

Someone's bubbling jacuzzi has a green light on

Duffle bags

He helps hold a bandage to someone's neck until paramedics arrive

Jason reads Frankenstein while at the Manor

An ad proclaims their coffins to be the sturdiest

Just his Robin story being jammed packed with foreshadowing.

It'd also be rad to have Easter Eggs:

Someone makes a comment about assassin kids

When talking to Bruce about something, on the batscreen is a very short file about "One Who is All"

Someone at a gala mentions the Drakes' newest archeology find

Kids at Jason's school chat about meta powers and how cool controlling light is

When visiting the hospital, the nurse introduces herself as Crystal

The buildup of the audience watching Jason, who's unaware of his future, continuously face sign after sign after sign? The irrational hope that maybe someone will notice the universe basically screaming about the future? Nobody notices as more and more signs pop up. It's maddening but so intriguing.

Jason's story of Robin would follow him as he goes from being desperate to survive to thriving. His paranoia that it's too good to be true thrums in his veins, but he learns to ignore it. He's fed, loved, and flies over Gotham every night. There's conflict, sure, but he's figuring out. It's okay.

The signs start out slow and subtle. As he starts to reach towards the end, they get more and more obvious. They occur more often.

Jason doesn't know when it all goes wrong, but he's figured it out before.

We don't see him lose hope until the very end.

EDIT:

Here's the og post I was referencing

[waterfall-ambience]

information on damien vexx's non-existent childhood and infancy ('what if they realised he was 'alive' much earlier? how would that have gone?'). some of this will never be relevant, it's equivalent to headcanons, but i had fun thinking about it regardless:

older than avery, though not by much. im not sure how it works out specifically considering both of them were grown in vats, but damien has the vibes of someone who was born a few weeks premature. little guy.

captain luna quickly takes responsibility, and the gods are a bit obsessed with watching him be a father at 200+ years old. he has some experience dealing with infants but he himself never had children.

the perpetua key is kept FAR AWAY from the kids. luna is NOT risking anything.

there is a photo of damien and avery as newborns that everyone talks about, mostly because they find the size difference between them to be amusing.

luna and minerva both turn up to meetings swaddling their children, especially after they were just born. they end up trading parenting tips.

damien is a bit of a fussy baby. he cries often and sounds like a small cat. he doesn't like the bottle but they really don't have any other options because hey, clones.

avery, on the other hand, is much calmer and more quiet. he doesn't cry or babble as much.

damien learns to talk slightly early (+ with a lisp), though his more 'diplomatic' behaviours are from mimicking captain luna rather than anything else. uses 'tetu' for 'thank you'. one time luna sang along to a lullaby they had on CD damien told him 'dada, lets just listen' ('dad, shut up').

damien is not a difficult toddler, per se, but he can come across as a bit of a brat/priss/what have you (though it's hardly intentional). years later, avery notes that as a child damien always seemed to be in some state of discomfort.

(^^ was it the ambiguous neurodivergency? possibly. there's a story about him saying the same phrase over and over again for over an hour, though otherwise his 'developmental milestones' and forms of pretend play read as exceedingly normal, so luna never got him checked for anything back then.)

damien's presence in a lot of their home videos are marked by his coughing (diagnosed with asthma at age 3, has hygiene practices burned into his brain from then on but he still sounds like an ipad kid)

avery is more of an adventurous child. after the first couple of years he gets louder and starts talking a lot and he finds joy in tackling people (damien doesn't like it as much, and they both learn a valuable lesson about expressing boundaries and not playing too rough).

avery gets his hair cut into an asian bowl cut for the first time, and goes "i'm a boy!! :D " upon seeing himself in the mirror (damien reacts in a similar manner once he sees him). avery keeps his hair like this forever.

minerva learns that avery struggles with reading aloud so she makes him read to damien anyway (similar to how things are in canon)

in this turn of events, the kids are much more like siblings or cousins than anything else (and no future romantic interest here! definitely not!). they bicker a lot when they're small but once they hit 8-9~ years old, they're best friends.

they do A LOT of pretend play. in their adventure stories, avery likes being the hero and damien sometimes dabbles in being the person who has to be saved.

"you hit me!! (sobs)" "shh it's okay! you can hit me back!" "(sobbing continues)"

they cheat off each other's homework at one point and both get scolded.

avery's major point of insecurity is more focused on him being 'talentless' than because early on damien proves to be an adept magic user. the kid waits on a miracle like crazy.

damien's full name in this version of events is something along the lines of 'fabian augusto luna' (captain luna names him after augustin as a way of circumventing the possibility of him being 'brought back wrong')

[swtki]

HP Boys: Surprise Pregnancy Head Cannons

Summary: The HP boys and their reaction to their s/o (afab) being pregnant when its not planned.

A/N: This takes place post Hogwarts so all characters are 18+, though no real smut happens in this so its not an 18+ fic.

WARNINGS: UNPLANNED PREGNANCY, MENTIONS OF PRO CHOICE OPINIONS, MENTIONS OF SEX IN LITE TERMS, SWEARING, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, ALSO THIS IS SUPER LONG SORRY LOL

Draco

So everything is going great for the happy couple, you two just moved into a flat together and are working normal jobs, drinking wine like adults.

And sure, Draco knows he wants to marry you, but he knows you’re not ready to settle down like that so he just plans and dreams.

Due to poor choices, when you’re late by two weeks, you know what it probably is.

Draco doesn’t even notice that you ran out to the store and came back and hid in the bathroom for 10 minutes. CEO of minding his own business ig

You just kinda...walk up to him and hand him all 3 tests while your eyes fill with tears because what if he demands you get an abortion?

Or what if he fucks off to god knows where?

But instead he just looks at you with the most un-draco like smile. Like his face was soft and it looked like he could cry any moment.

“Oh my god,” He says, putting his hand on your belly, “I can be ready for this, but if you aren’t then we can you know...”

“No, I want it” then both of you rejoice bc yay baby!

Cut to 6 months later when your feet hurt so bad you have to lay down and watch while Draco fails to put a crib together.

He eventually gets it done tho.

And when the time comes, he’s built and arranged everything for your bundle of joy.

Harry

So you guys are probably already married, but with everything at the ministry going on, it makes Harry less than a family man.

You both agree that it’s probably better to wait so you can be home and yk...raise it.

Well smart man Harry forgets that to not have a kid you need to use protection.

So of course when your period is late you don’t think about it, until its four weeks late.

That night, you and Harry are laying in bed, and thats when you tell him.

“Harry..I’m late.”

“Late for what?” headass.

You: 😳😐

Him: 👁👁😲😲

He’s hesitant to say anything, because he knows its ultimitley up to you what happens with it until its out.

“I think I want to keep it...you know it wont remember much for the first year and a half so if things are stressful it will be okay and-“

“Love...Its going to be perfect”

Mf built the crib in like 45 minutes I swear.

And of course he forced you to keep up with your vitamins, pre natal care, and appointments.

Swear tho you’re about to kill him because cofFeE

But the way he holds your baby 🥺 its his most valued thing ever now.

Ron

Ron is iffy on the kid thing sometimes.

He does want them, but only later when you guys have lived and travled.

So no, you two haven’t planned nor is it even in the picture when your wedding roles around.

It’s in the early days of the marriage when you see his family at the burrow on the way back from the honeymoon.

And of course Molly knows

Because Weasleys are hyperfertile I swear.

She takes you into the kitchen and puts her hands on your arms, shes got that big Mrs.Weasley smile on too.

“I knew it!” She says and pulls you in for a hug, “How far dear??”

You’re just standing there like🧍🏻

“I can see it by the way you glow! Oh my you and my Ron must be so happy!” This woman doesn’t notice that you’re confused.

“Wait what? Mrs. Weasley what are you-?” Then you count the days, “Oh. Well I guess I just found out for myself”

Her face falls slightly, but then she tells you can make you a potion that will tell you if you are or not, stan.

The stupid potion turns green when you spit into it, so everything is confirmed.

That night, you and Ron are getting ready for bed in the guest room and you decide to tell him.

“Ron, sweetie. We need to talk.” He looks like he’s gonna start crying but sits next to you on the bed.

“Y/N...I know its scary but please, we just got married I don’t want to divorce quite just yet 🥺🥺”

“Ron I-“ you start smiling, “I’m pregnant you dufus.”

He just freezes, for a while. Not saying anything, he just looks at the wall with his mouth ajar.

So you get up and go to Ginny.

“Gin, I broke him.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know about how you and him”

“No, I told him that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah that would do it. Just I don’t know... Give him a minute?”

You give him several, getting a glass of water then heading back up to the room.

Ginny was right, he needed a minute.

“I don’t...I wasn’t...you were.?”

“You don’t have to stay, but I think we can do it. Plus, you would disapoint your mom if you left so...”

“Okay...we’ll do it. I’ll be the best damn Father you have ever seen.” He says, talking to your womb.

Well...he’s a father I’ll give him that.

Pro of having a Weasley baby: free crib thats already put together.

Even if it looks like a death trap.

“We’ll put some blankets over it don’t worry”

You know how some Dads hold their parters hand during the delivery? Yeah he got sick and was moral support from the outside.

To be fair, you weren’t screaming in pleasure by any means.

Scary. But beautiful.

He shows the kid to everyone, he might be more in love with the baby than he is with you.

Ron see’s the appeal of having kids now.

Neville

Moving in with your boyfriend is always fun, right up until you guys go at it so much you forget protection more than once.

You think about it, then move on with your day.

Until the doctor calls, then “oh fuck”

Romance Neville bf

“Why aren’t you having any wine? I thought it was your favorite?”

“I don’t think fetal alcohol syndrome is my favorite.” BRO HE SPAT

But he looks up with tears in his eyes, and runs over to you to grasp you in a hug.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant! Oh my - We’re gonna be parents!! Oh my god we’re gonna be parents oh-“ Que you petting his hair till he’s calm again.

Lets be honest, this man probably swapped the herbology books for the parenting guides.

“Well I mean I’m just wondering if we should go with this color or this one”

“Nev, it doesn’t matter. Our baby will not care.”

“I read in my book that Infants actually can recognize mood in-“

He won’t let you do anything during your pregnancy.

Gotta love a man who cries because he loves you so much and you’re having his kid.

“I never had a father, what if I do it wrong? What if the baby hates me and runs away at seven?”

“We’ve got quite a lot of time before then.”

He was there during delivery, letting you crush his hand like a champ.

You can’t help but cry when you see him sleeping on the floor next to the crib, its so sweet.

Fred

You two most likely already had two kids, so you decided to wait a bit so your hands weren’t quite full.

Well...your body decided not to wait.

A test provides the two lines, another wild child.

The two toddlers already run around like thing one and thing two, only with red hair.

I think Fred would gladly make the family dinner, and wear an apron. He’d own it, as he should.

But mf gotta not drop the salad bowl when you tell him of the fetus inside you.

“Fred we are going to have a bee-ay-bee-why.”

Your five year old has just begun to spell 😐

He’s happy tho.

Like over the fuckin moon.

He buys the two kids big brother/sister shirts too 🥺🥺

He knows the drill pretty well, so he isn’t too worried about the future.

But its funny that he still freaks out about the crib and feeding chair since he gave it away, you know because you guys werent having another kid.

He packed a hospital bag and kept it in the trunk, counting down the days.

Hours of delivery (He just sat back and held your hand) only to end up with a room full of 7 Weasley family members.

Fred always said that 3 was his lucky number :)

George

You guys were taking it slow, no marriage until you both felt it was time. And certainly no children before that.

Well you know...things changed when the test was positive.

You slid it over on the table, tears pooling in your eyes. He was stunned and quiet, which made you burst out sobbing because you knew that neither of you planned on having a baby.

But to your surprise he starts to smile.

“I want whatever you want, I’m staying by your side no matter what.”

“I mean...would it really be so bad? A house, a kid, a dog?” He holds your hand as you think aloud.

You both give it a week to think it over and the virdict is to keep it.

Thats when he decides he has to marry you, asap because he loves you and will never let you go especially now.

He loves to gush about the carrier of his child, to him you are a godess.

He’s the Dad with a predestination complex.

“Y/N, I just see him being a star quiditch player”

“George, we don’t know if it’s a him.”

He rolls his eyes “Okay then I can see her being a star-“

He made Hermione take you out for a movie date so he could rearrange your bedroom, since you only had a single bedroom flat.

You come back to a new set up including a cot.

Damn pregnancy hormones make brain go 🥺😭😭

He freaks when your water breaks lol

ceo of driving like a maniac to the hospital.

He can’t hold your hand, he’s pacing back and forth, sweating and maybe crying though he’ll never admit to it.

You get the joy of watching him cuddle the baby while refusing to give your child to you.

“George I’d like to hold-“

“No, you need your sleep honey, don’t worry”

Hogging the child.

Cedric

Its no secret that Cedric wants a baby someday.

And he makes it clear your wedding will be spectacular too.

However, finding out you’re pregnant the week of your dream wedding was a shock.

A shock that made you bang your head into the wall because how could you be so stupid?? We had a plan??

So you decide to wait until after the wedding, that way it wont add onto the stress (happy stress) of the wedding.

Cedric keeps trying to fill your glass at the reception, to which you kindly refuse saying you want to remember the night entirely.

Yeah he’s like 🤨 mhm okay.

You can only pick at the dinner because ew salmon doesn’t sound like an option if you want to keep the contents of your stomach.

As everyone waves goodbye to the car, and you both set off into married life, he leans over.

“I may be out of my mind, but are you...?”

“Pregnant.” His face lights up, pulling you into a hug.

Finally, your car pulls up to a small cottage with lush garden scapes all around, putting a hand out, he walks you both from the car to the door.

“Ced, where are we?”

“Home.”

Somehow it was perfect with Cedric, even when it was rushed.

He loved talking to your womb, even if it was weird that he was talking about the babies future brothers and sisters.

“Cedric, slow down. We haven’t even had this one yet”

Basically he is father of the year before he’s a full father.

He’s there while you deliver, holding your hand and telling you how great you’re doing.

He doesn’t even complain when you insult him <3.

He updates you on everything.

If his eyes aren’t on that child, he’s either asleep or dead.

I think Cedric was meant to be a family man, because he loves everything about being one.

Taglist: @truly-insatiable @amourtentiaa @imdoingathingmom @annasdani @anchoeritic @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @faeinorbit

[pinkmirth]

can i req some dad reiner fluff? i feel like he would have a lot of kids bc of the breeding kink 🥴 but yeah just some cute stuff pls thank uuuu!!

THE THOUGHT OF REINER BEING FATHER JUST DOES SOMETHING TO ME I- AJHSJS

THANK YOU SM FOR REQUESTING, ANON!! LET'S GET CAUGHT UP IN THE REINER BRAINROT TOGETHER <3

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—DAD REINER!

 (MODERN AU + MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY + FEMALE BODIED READER + FLUFF + SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE + REINER BEING THE BEST DAD EVER DUH + TW: SLIGHT LANGUAGE)

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Dad Reiner who was such a hot mess moments before he became a father to begin with. The pair of you are situated inside a hospital room, occupied with things much bigger than a sprained ankle. He stood alongside you, his beloved, all the while; Encouraging your efforts and attempting to ease your pain with the squeeze of your hand within his bigger one. As fretful as he feels, it's no surprise that Reiner ends up passing out a good few times, and he wasn't even the one in labor. Though, the hard part is now over, and all his worry has subsided.

Dad Reiner who recalls whimpering, weakly grinning, and eventually bawling of joy when holding his child for the first time. You'd never seen his cries mingled with such joy before. He cradles yours and his newborn within firm forearms and large, mindful hands. The pair of you sob and smile, ogle your baby with a relieved, content thrum in your heart. You allow Reiner to attempt squeezing into the hospital bed beside you, as broad and weighty as he is, with your child being held right between you and him. He’s a hot mess, but an overjoyed one who has you; and little Reiner x [Y/N] junior 🥺

Dad Reiner who converses with you for days before ultimately deciding on a name for yours and his daughter— Joyce Braun. He contemplated on “Karina”, the name of his dear mother. Though, he wants his little girl to be better than any past generation, and rather goes with a more revitalizing name, one that holds a simple, but deep meaning in his perspective. As obvious as it sounds, the name means “Joyful”. That's all he wants; for his kid to be happy in this life, happier than he ever was. Therefore, he bases her name, the root of his dear child’s identity, on cheerfulness.

Dad Reiner who tends to grow somewhat frustrated. Not with you of course, not even with Joyce’s incessant wailing in the early hours of the morning, but with himself. It wasn't as though he did anything wrong, he simply hopes that he won't. Begs himself not to fuck up with this whole “Parent” thing. If it wasn’t clear enough, Reiner wants to be nothing like his own father. He’ll never, ever shoo his child away and disregard them, but instead use those same hands to hold, guide, and lift them up. It doesn't take long for the blonde to snap out of his funk, because he's sure that he can become all the better for the sake of his little family.

Dad Reiner who wakes to your still, ethereal-like form every morning, and it's enough to make his day. A kiss to your neck, a nibble along your earlobe, and a couple repetitive rubs to your waist and thighs are enough to stir you right awake. And if that isn't the case, then it's usually the other way around; You pressing soft, lengthy kisses to his sharp, attractive cheekbones. Despite who arises first, there’s always one thing that's bound to happen— Joyce making her arrival into the bedroom via crawl, with a babble and a cute, happy little shriek upon seeing her parents.

The pair of you have no clue as to how she manages to make her way over to your room every time, but you're simply glad that she does so safely. It's Reiner’s cue to leap out of bed and scoop her off of the carpet and into his awaiting arms, clad in nothing but a white tee and the baggiest sweats. He appears disheveled, but it's still clear to see the main striking similarity between him and his pretty little daughter; Those amber brown eyes that hold the same warm, yellowish hue as his do.

He rocks the giggling one-year old, back and forth and right back again, gazing upon his squirming bundle of joy until you mention that he’s been doing so for a whole ten minutes. He grows sheepish and merely chuckles in reply, resting Joyce’s head upon his firm chest with a sigh. He could do this for ten hours more if it were up to him.

Dad Reiner who knocked you up a couple more times, and real damn good at that. There’s something of a breeding fetish that he’s got on him, which is the reason why your little family is now two kids larger. There’s Joyce, who’s now seven years old, along with her two baby brothers, the pair being a mere one year apart from the other. You and Reiner no longer have to worry about checking on Joyce in her crib, for she sleeps on her own bed now, like the “big girl” she claims to be.

Though, the boys now have you both occupied, and you’re lucky to have an older daughter who’s so understanding and rarely ever  grows jealous. Joyce, your girl who’s on more of the rambunctious side but ironically never pleads for attention, has been spending much more quality time with Reiner. Both you and him are busy with the boys, but the blonde tends to have free time on his hands every now and then. Besides, someone’s got to keep Joyce company.

Reiner happily obliges, and makes this father-daughter time worthwhile. Wholesome picnics to the park that always end in races back to the car and Reiner being a damned klutz and dropping his sandwich. Having a “spa day”, filled with Reiner’s not-so-great attempts at doing his girl’s hair, messy manicures and a hefty bag of makeup that Joyce “borrowed” from you. He spoils the girl as if the lot of you are rich (and since Reiner’s always got a hefty load of spare cash, you technically are), but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dad Reiner who’s a lot more used to this “dad” thing now, since it’s been a couple good years down the line. You and him have amazing bonds with each of your kids, but they seem to latch onto Reiner’s large, broad body at any given time a lot more than they do you. Joyce is twelve, the brothers are five and six, and Reiner’s officially a DILF— The finest one at that. His stubble stays nicely trimmed, along with the subtle creases at his eyes becoming a little more distinctive. Goes to work, and sometimes takes the kid’s lunches instead of his own, because that's just the Reiner Way.

He’s the ultimate father in practically every situation, even when looking out for peers and comrades. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just that habits easily stick with Reiner, and it’s rather difficult for him to let them go. Besides, with three kids, how do you expect him to not be in “dad mode”?

Dad Reiner who utterly loves having random little talks with his kids, and never invalidates them, not for one second. It’s almost as though he can see things in their perspective, and they don’t know anyone else better to vent to other than their dad and mom. Though, when they tend to babble on about something that’s rather popular within their generation, it gets hard for him to catch up. They proceed to call him “old” and receive a good chase around the house before they get caught and looped into a tickle attack, and that's basically the worst thing imaginable if you’re in the Braun family. The reason being is Reiner’s unparalleled speed, despite his age; Thirties to early forties, but he’s still extremely fit, and has no problem running a mile if he has to.

Dad Reiner who’s in love with his family and the person they’ve gradually helped him become. You cherish him and your kids like none other, and he does the same. Sometimes it abruptly dawns on him; He’s a dad, and he’s actually a good one, who would’ve known? He smiles to himself, allowing his amber eyes to flit over to wherever you are before his soft grin grows wider. You look back, blow a kiss, and he does the same. The action is exchanged before he strides over to give you the real deal— Though, your sweet little peck is all cut short when Joyce and the boys skip in and start making kissy noises, with you and Reiner laughing all the while.

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“Papa,” Gale, the youngest son of the bunch, calls aloud and gains his father’s attention. Reiner peers up from his book and gives a brief, questioning response. “Yes, dove?” It’s a simple, sweet nickname; One that he calls you, Joyce, and the boys.

“Mommy’s in the bathroom crying.” The blonde drops his novel with an punctuating hitch of his breath, the book falling upon the couch with a dull thump. “—Why? Is she alright?” Reiner, the man who generally keeps himself rather poised, is now frantic, sharp brows downturned at his son's statement.

“Uh, I dunno. She’s crying, but smiling too.” This then causes Reiner’s brows to furrow. “Smiling, you say?”

“Yeah. Can we go out to get ice cream today? I wanna get, uh.. Chocolate chip, please!”

Reiner lets a brief laugh slip loose at Gale’s query, but he has to prioritize his wife over a summertime snack. He then begins to make a beeline towards the bathroom, in search of you. “Soon enough, dove. I’ve got to go up there and check on your momma first, alright—?”

Gale then shrugs and hops onto the couch, little feet padding along the spacey seat as the leather creases underneath his weight.

“By the way, Papa,” Reiner then pauses, open to any vital information his son could give, “she has this funny stick thingy in her hand. It’s got two little lines on it and stuff.”

Reiner chokes on his breath, lower lip beginning to tremble and quirk into a smile. If the case is what he thinks it is, he’s got all the reason to bust out with the teary eyes and jovial whimpers, just as he did when receiving the news of his three expected children in the past.

“A stick..?”

“Mhm,” hums Gale, proceeding to jump upon the dark brown couch, “Mama probably wants some chocolate chip ice cream too.”

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[lokimostly]

How would Loki react to an unplanned pregnancy?

Secrets

Loki x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 1,829

Warnings: fluff :3

A/N: I got like, 6 requests for this exact scenario. Y’all REALLY hungry for dad!Loki huh 

“Oh, come now,” Volstagg thundered from across the table, a goblet of mead in his hand. “You sorcerers read minds all the time, I know it!”

“It’s not true!” You insisted, laughing. The midsummer banquet had long since ended, but Thor’s group of close friends – yourself included – had simply elected to move the party to his wing of the palace, where you could continue to revel and drink uninterrupted. “Seidr allows us to influence minds only.”

“I don’t believe it,” the red-bearded warrior decided. Finding your answer dissatisfactory, he turned to the more knowledgeable of the two sorcerers at the long table. 

Loki regarded his gaze with the faintest of smiles. “Yes, Volstagg?”

“Can you read minds, Silvertongue?”

Loki took a sip of his drink, which he had undoubtedly magicked into a finer, more sophisticated liquor besides mead, and raised one dark eyebrow, keeping the table in suspense before shaking his head. “No, I can’t read minds.” 

The group erupted. You and Loki shared a mutual smirk amidst the clamor, and you subtly leaned closer to him, speaking in his ear. “A good thing, too, or we would have no secrets between us.”

“Secrets?” He repeated, a confused smirk lighting his poet’s mouth as he lowered his goblet and met your eyes. “What have you yet to tell me?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and you forced them down with a nonchalant shake of your head and a light kiss to his cheek. 

“Nothing,” You lied, covering genuine anxiety with a coy and playful tone that, hopefully, he wouldn’t see past.

You hadn’t figured out a way to tell Loki yet.

The only things keeping him in the dark were the medicines you had concocted for morning sickness, your own personal resolve, and time. Sooner or later, one of the three would fail. In retrospect, you had no idea how two intelligent sorcerers could make such a thoughtless error: both magic and herbal contraceptives were commonplace on Asgard, and yet neither had been used. You had no clue how Loki would respond to the news of a child; the two of you had never discussed it before. 

You were drawn out of your thoughts by Thor’s rich, deep voice declaring across the room: “maybe not read minds, brother, but you can search them all the same.”

The party began to argue, and Loki held out a hand, quieting them. “Searching someone’s mind and reading it are two different ideologies,” he clarified. “To break and enter someone’s consciousness is a crime, and incredibly difficult besides. But opening a two-way connection? That would be something else entirely.”

“Read your fair lady’s mind, then,” Sif suggested, smirking wolfishly and setting her cup down on the golden table. “She trusts you. Tell us her thoughts.”

Loki raised his eyebrow and looked sideways at you, and you stalled. You were in no position to refuse. Reluctantly, you set down your goblet of cider and pulled away to face him, straightening your back. Your heart was pounding, but you hid it well, and gave him an easy nod.

The table discussion turned to a murmur as Loki inhaled deeply, stilling himself and narrowing his focus. His green eyes shimmered with seidr and you felt the push of his consciousness when it met yours, like a gust of wind. You shivered.Loki pried gently into your mind with a tangible gentleness, surveying the thoughts that came and went. You tried to think of anything but your secret and keep his attention on more mundane trains of thought: the events of the party, the growing discomfort of your dress, how unbelievably handsome he looked in your eyes. 

Loki’s focus snagged this last thought and shook his head, his cheeks tinging with a light blush. “Don’t try and distract me,” he warned lowly, with a graveling tone that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. 

“What is she thinking?” Volstagg demanded.

Loki shrugged. “Mostly flattery.” He narrowed his eyes and his eyes glowed faintly as he delved deeper. You felt it, and instinctively closed the door of your mind to block him from discovering your secret – he sensed it shut, and unease flickered behind his eyes. What were you hiding from him? 

He veiled his confusion with a light scoff. “She’s evading me.”

Fandral tutted at you as he raised his goblet. “Come now, don’t you trust your lover?”

Loki’s eyes reflected the same question. 

You met his gaze with your hands clasped tight enough to make your knuckles whiten. Your stomach turned over with nausea. You swallowed. The doubt and apprehension in Loki’s expression was as clear and visible to you as if he had expressed it aloud; you didn’t need to read his mind to see that. It was visible in the tension of his jaw, the way his brow furrowed, the nervous tapping of his fingers against his thigh.

If you didn’t tell him now, when would you? 

You took a breath and smiled briefly, reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his wrist to stop the anxious tapping. “I do,” you affirmed, and after a moment, removed the door inside your mind.

You watched him fall right through it like a fox into a rabbit hole.

Loki’s face paled. A beat of silence passed. 

Then another. 

“What is it?” Fandral asked, expressing the thoughts of the table aloud. “Well? What is she thinking?”

“Silver tongue turned to lead?” Volstagg joked.

Loki blinked, and swallowed. “Excuse me,” he said, standing abruptly and taking you by the arm. A half-spoken apology left your lips before he dragged you out and into the dark hallway outside the banquet room, the heavy doors clanging shut behind you.

The night wind was warm and heavy with the scents of midsummer, carrying the faint voices and music of the city below, lights twinkling in the dark. Your heart was in your throat when Loki cupped your face in his hands, elegant fingers tucking your hair back out of familiar habit. You shied from his touch, expecting rejection and refusing to meet his gaze.

His eyes searched your face, not daring to ask, but knowing he must. “Is it true? Are you–” his voice stalled, and his eyes dropped to your stomach before coming back up again. 

You pressed your lips together and nodded as anxious tears pricked at your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you began, and your voice broke. “I- I would have told you some other way, but–” 

Loki silenced you with a kiss, the taste of sweet wine lingering on his lips. The glass floor of anxiety broke beneath your feet and you leaned into him, cupping his jaw in your shaking hands. A meteor streaked across the dark sky as the two of you stood there, dark silhouettes a backdrop of golden lights. 

He pulled away. His hands slid down your arms, holding you there. “How long?”

“Two months,” you quavered. Your tears spilled over, and you reached up hastily to wipe them with your palm. “You’re– you’re not upset?”

Loki’s mouth opened in surprise. His expression spoke volumes and he exhaled quickly, shaking his head and pulling you to his chest. 

“Upset?” He repeated, laughing in disbelief. He cradled your head beneath his chin, fingers gently tangled in your hair. “Ohh, my love. I’m only sorry that you bore it alone for so long.” You let out a muffled sob of relief against his chest and he held you a bit tighter, running his hand up and down your back.

You stayed there together, holding each other until your tears subsided. You pulled away, wiping your face once more. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, pushing your hair back and sighing. “It’s supposed to be a happy night.”

“It is,” he insisted, leaning down to wipe the remnants of your tears and pressing kisses to your cheeks. He took your hands in his and squeezed them gently. “And if I recall correctly, we didn’t get a chance to dance. There may yet be some fires still burning.”

You chuckled, still a little teary, and nodded. “I’d like that.” You linked your arm through his, leaning your head against his shoulder as you began walking. The night air was warm and sweet, carrying the promise of a good harvest on the gentle breeze. Midsummer on Asgard has always been one of your favorite holidays: it was both a reassurance of the present and a promise of the future. Each one had been memorable. You had a feeling this one would be, too.

Loki’s thoughts were running rampant through his head loudly enough for you to notice, distracting you from enjoying the breeze, and you poked him in the side. “What is it?’

Loki made a surprised noise before looking down at you. “How in all the realms did you manage to hide it from me for so long? What about the sickness?”

You laughed then, raising your eyebrow. “Your mother may have helped me with a remedy,” you admitted, averting your eyes in a feigned expression of innocence. 

As you expected, Loki’s jaw dropped, and he made an indignant noise. “She knew?”

“Of course she did, she knows everything.” 

Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes, pressing his lips together to try and hide the smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “She does know everything. I should have guessed.”

“Well, you know now.”

“That I do,” He agreed. “And I have half a mind to wed you for your treachery.”

“Treachery?” You repeated incredulously, though that wasn’t the word that had caught your attention. The mention of marriage made your face flush and your stomach flip. Out of all the reactions you had envisioned when it came to sharing this secret, a proposal wasn’t one you’d expected. Loki, your husband; you could get used to calling him that. 

You sighed dramatically and tried to quell the butterflies inside your ribs, squeezing his arm. “Well, I accept. The punishment is fitting.” Loki looked down at you and the two of you shared a mutual smirk – you could tell he was excited, too, in the way his green eyes twinkled and his breath caught when you pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

The sounds of music and jubilee coming from the lower city promised a long night of dancing and revelry despite the late hour. The two of you snuck your way down through the crowded alleyways, walking beneath lantern light and watching the silhouettes of people dancing in rings around the fires. The night wind was thick with the scents of wood smoke and summer fruit. Loki reeled you in and held your hand as you joined one of the rings, laughing and stepping your feet with all the rest. 

No one else noticed the two magicians casting dancing shadows of their own on the cobblestone. By the time the next summer solstice came, they would be joined by a third. But for now, it was only you and Loki, dancing in the bonfire light with color in your cheeks and laughter on your lips. Loki’s eyes sparkled and his hands held yours with every assurance of safety and permanence. He loved you. And you didn’t need to read his mind to know that for a fact.

~~~

A/N: thanks for reading! ♡ 

Loki Works Tag list (Open): @cottoncandy1010, @myoxisbroken

All Works Tag List (Open): @neontiiger, @un-consider-it, @jessiejunebug, @nerdypisces160, @lokiisntdeadbitch, @e-wolf-90, @cursedmoonstone-blog, @kikaninchen-2, @bluebellhairpin, @evy-lyn, @midnight-queen-1, @travelingmypassion, @harrybpoetry, @adefectivedetective, @absolutecraziness13, @kumikokagato, @randomfangirl7, @timetraveler1978, @tarynkauai, @arcanethamin, @ornate-ribcage, @julianettedoe, @kinghiddlestonanddixon, @yespolkadotkitty, @befearlesslyauthenticc, @ladybugsfanfics, @nancybenson

[anna-kendrick]

holding my breath ('til i can say all of the words i wanna say)

Beca goes home with Chloe for thanksgiving.

For @beca-mitchell​

Read on AO3, or below.

Chloe regrets asking the moment it comes out of her mouth.

“Come home with me.”

It's not that she doesn't want to bring Beca—her wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year—home to visit her family, it's more the fact of how do you tell your wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year that you didn't actually tell your parents that you two were dating because they're homophobic.

Yeah, she has a slight problem.

Chloe wasn't even sure if Beca would even say yes to begin with. It's her third year at Barden, and her third thanksgiving that she'd be spending on campus. Rather than taking a trip back to Seattle to visit her mother, Beca had explained that she prefers her alone time in the comfort of her room, away from all the reminders of her rocky childhood. Chloe gets it.

But more selfishly than not wanting to leave her girlfriend back in Atlanta alone—aka with most of the Bellas and very much not alone—Chloe didn't want to spend a week away from Beca. That's what brings them to this very moment.

Beca’s clearly taken aback by the question, and Chloe finds the slight blush that's creeping across her cheeks absolutely adorable.

“You're serious?” This is her out, Chloe thinks. Make it sound less appealing, tell her the truth, or just completely take back the offer and—

“Totes serious.” Well fuck.

The smug grin that grows on Beca’s face is enough to vanish all her worries for the moment. Chloe’s quick to reflect one back as Beca pulls her in for a kiss, a version of a ‘yes’ in her own, sweet language.

When Beca mumbles an “I love you,” against her lips, Chloe feels her knees go weak.

***

She doesn't bring it up.

It's sitting in the back of her mind at all times in the weeks following, but she doesn't bring it up.

Beca's seemingly excited to go on this trip to Portland. She says she's never been, and Chloe finds herself looking forward to showing her all of the places where she grew up. She ignores it when Beca tells her that she's excited to see her parents again, and jokingly teases her that she thinks they like her better.

Beca really has no idea.

It's on their final descent when Chloe realizes her mistake. She feels Beca’s hand squeeze in her own, looking over to see her wearing a soft smile—one of comfort and warmth—as if Beca could read her mind. She wishes it were true, it would make things so much easier.

But Beca simply mouths ‘you’re okay,’ and attributes Chloe’s nervous energy to flight anxiety. That’s truly the least of her worries right now, honestly the plane crashing to the ground seems like it could be a better scenario to what she’s going to have to do. Easier, and chances are less painful, too.

Beca squeezes her hand again, waiting for Chloe to squeeze back—their own little form of communication, a way for Chloe to say ‘I’m okay,’ without saying it aloud. Chloe shakes herself from her morbid thoughts, and kisses Beca’s cheek instead, before nuzzling herself into Beca’s shoulder. She feels herself relax slightly as Beca drops her head onto hers, and lets out a quiet hum.

She knows she's messed up. She goes over all the possible outcomes in her head as she watches other passengers deboard the plane. It's the one where she breaks Beca’s trust, and her heart that sticks out the most to her.

Beca never lets go of her hand as they walk off the plane. Chloe can hear her speaking, probably talking about all the new music ideas she thought of on their long flight over, but she can't make out any of the words—she's too lost in her own mind.

“Chlo?” She’s snapped out of her non stop reel of scenarios when Beca stops in place, tilting her head in concern. Beca knows her so well, it makes her want to cry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” She lies, and offers a smile. It seems to satisfy Beca, who grins back and squeezes her hand again gently before going to resume their trail to the baggage claim.

This is it. She has to do it.

“Bec, wait—” Her voice catches in her throat when Beca looks back, eyes full of questions and concern—so patient and so loving. She thinks she might throw up.

She lets go of Beca’s hand.

“They don't know you’re my girlfriend. Please don't tell them, I’m sorry.” Chloe takes a deep breath, fighting back her tears, because God forbid she cries in the middle of this damn airport.

One glance at Beca’s face and her heart feels like it's being crushed inside her chest. She can't say anything else, she can't even look at her.

“Um— Our bags, lets go get our bags.”

***

They meet Chloe’s parents outside of the airport about a half hour later, the silence that had been deafening between her and Beca finally breaking.

Alice greets Beca with a smile and a tight hug. “We’re so happy Chloe was able to talk you into coming home with her.”

“She didn’t have to say much, I’m glad to be here. Thanks for letting me stay with you guys.” Beca says it so sincerely, it only makes Chloe feel worse.

“Please, Beca, you know you’re a part of the family. You can visit anytime, even without this one here.” Dale points to Chloe, giving Beca a wink and one of his signature Beale smiles. Beca giggles and looks over to her Chloe with a soft smile.

Chloe turns to look out the window instead.

The drive to the Beale family home is longer than Chloe remembers—louder too, as her dad sings along obnoxiously to the songs on the radio, and her thoughts continue to echo inside of her head. Beca’s more silent than usual though, and Chloe takes the risk of glancing over to check on her.

Beca’s the one peering out the window now, headphones plugged in as she listens to her own music. It almost makes Chloe smile, just seeing Beca next to her, as they drive through her hometown. The feeling is fleeting however, as Chloe takes note of Beca chewing the skin on her thumb—a nervous habit most likely brought on by all of the shit Chloe sprung on her at the airport. She wants nothing more than to reach over and pull her hand away, entangle their fingers together and squeeze Beca’s hand tightly.

She meets her mothers gaze in the mirror, and immediately realizes how bad of an idea this was.

***

It’s later that night—after Chloe had spent ten minutes convincing, more like begging, her mother to let Beca sleep in her room upstairs and not in the basement

(“It’s freezing down there. I’ll just make a bed for myself on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chloe.”)

—that Beca finally broaches the subject.

“Chloe?” She hears Beca whisper through the dark. She lays silently, debating whether or not she should answer, or pretend to be asleep and hope that Beca lets it go—she already knows what she's about to ask.

“Baby, I know you're awake.” She could insist that she is asleep—continue to hold her breath and fight back the tears that are already pricking from behind her eyelids—but she knows that Beca knows her better than anyone else, knows that Beca’s worried about her from the way that her hand now softly brushes through her hair.

“Chlo—”

“Yeah, I'm awake.” Chloe whispers, rolling around to face her girlfriend. She feels the guilt swirl in her stomach immediately with just one look at the sad eyes in front of her.

She knew it was coming, but when Beca mumbles “Why didn't you tell them? I—I don't mean to pry, I’m sorry, I just—Are you okay?” tears immediately spill from her eyes, and she has to choke back the sob that threatens to come out.

It makes her heart clench to think about how far her and Beca have come since that day at the activities fair. It had taken so long to get Beca to open up to her, to even just accept a hug from her. It makes her sick to think about how disappointed her parents would be if they walked in on the two of them at this moment—their daughter wrapped up in her girlfriends arms as Beca continues to rub her back soothingly.

She feels so fucking guilty. A disappointment to both her family, and towards the woman she loves. She hates herself for it.

Beca's hands feel so soft against her cheeks as she holds them and lightly brushes her tears away. It's dark in the room, but she can still clearly make out Beca’s features in the moonlight that spills in from the window. Beca looks beautiful, she looks sad, but she’s so beautiful.

“I didn't know how to tell you.” Her voice sounds unrecognizable to her own ears, it's raspy with tears, and she can hear the lie within her own speech. It's not that she didn't know how to, it's that she didn't want to.

How was she supposed to tell her best friend—her girlfriend—that her parents would hate her? How was she supposed to explain that yes, they had met her before and treated her like a second daughter, but as soon as they found out Beca was more than just a friend, they'd look at her with pure disgust and detest? How was she supposed to bring that up in a conversation where Beca’s telling her that her father has been putting more effort in, that he's happy for the two of them and that he’d like to have both over for dinner one night?

She's never wanted Beca to feel as if she was a secret, that their blooming relationship was something that Chloe was ashamed of. And now, Chloe doesn't even know why she invited Beca here in the first place, because while reserved, Beca’s the proudest of their relationship, and she can see it in her face right now how much she's hurting.

Chloe knows it's her fault.

“I'm not mad at you.” Beca's smiling softly at her—a sad smile—one of encouragement, or one to try to deter the situation, because she knows that Chloe’ll be upset if Beca shows that she’s upset, Chloe doesn't know. She doesn’t really care either, she just wants to go home. Atlanta home, away from this life she had so happily left behind.

What she does know, is that Beca is one of the most patient, and selfless people she's ever met. She knows she doesn't have to say anything, that she could simply ignore the situation entirely, tell Beca that she's tired, and it'd get dropped. She knows Beca wouldn't push her if she wasn't ready to tell her.

But she also knows that Beca deserves an answer.

“They would hate me if they found out, Bec.” She realizes that it's been a while since she admitted this dark secret of hers aloud. Not since her first year at Barden, when she confided in Aubrey over a bottle of cheap wine.

“It's not that I'm not proud to be with you, I promise. It's just that— I’m scared to lose them. I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose them either, Beca. I'm so sorry.”

She's crying again—she doesn't know if she ever really stopped—but Beca’s soft lips are soon pressed against hers; familiar, comforting, safe.

“You'd never lose me.” Beca whispers against her lips in between kisses, and it's like a blanket of warmth courses through Chloe’s body. It's still crazy to her how in the midst of feeling so sad and confused, Beca can make her feel so loved, make her thoughts that had just moments ago felt so jumbled, suddenly so clear.

“I will tell them.” She states, breaking apart from Beca’s kiss, nodding her head in affirmation.

“You don't have to.”

“I will. Eventually, I will. Maybe not this week, but one day I will.” And Beca’s smile in response is enough for her to know that she’s supported, that Beca will hold her hand through it all.

“I think you're really brave, Chloe.” She doesn't expect that as a response, and she's ready to open her mouth and argue against Beca’s words—tell her that she doesn't feel brave at all—but Beca beats her to it. “No, you really are, and it's one of the things I love most about you. Thank you for telling me.”

There’s something about Beca Mitchell that Chloe finds so captivating. Perhaps it’s the way she smiles so genuinely and so lovingly at her, before she breaks out into a cheeky grin and pulls Chloe back in for another kiss. Maybe it’s the trust that she seems to give Chloe unconditionally, something that she’s seen Beca struggle with so much over the course of knowing her. Beca’s passion, loyalty, determination… Perhaps it’s just Beca’s big heart, that tends to tug on her own, and make her feel weak in the knees.

“You know I love you, right?” Chloe can tell Beca’s getting tired by the pure laziness that’s beginning to leak into her kisses, her heavy hands that are no longer roaming, but holding her close and still against her.

“You’ve told me a few times. I love you, too. I’m fucking exhausted, your family is insane. Sorry that was—”

“Bec, it’s okay.” Chloe laughs softly squeezing Beca’s hand that continues to lay softly on her hip. “They really are, you’re right. But I have you, I think I’m pretty lucky.”

“Oh, my God—you’re gross. So gross. Go to sleep or I’m moving down to the basement.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

[shysneeze]

missed smiles (draco malfoy x reader)

missed smiles (draco malfoy x fem!reader)

request: could you do a Draco imagine where the reader gets injured somehow (like falls down the stairs) after a fight (angst) and then he gets all protective (fluff)? tysm!

Warnings: kind hints towards depression but it’s minor.  half blood prince level draco angst because I'm in one of those moods mentions of war,  family pressures etc, fighting and injury. 

Authors note: I skimped so hard on the fluff this is basically just angst pls forgive me. 

..

The late November snow crunches aggressively underfoot as (Y/N) storms back towards the castle, Draco's footsteps echoing her own not far behind her as he calls after her. She lets out a harsh breath, not daring to look back in case her anger slips into something else and the tightness in her throat gives way to the sob she's been holding back.

"(Y/N), please." He pleads. "Let me explain."

She comes to a stop, breath shaking as it leaves her lips and forming wispy streams of condensation as it meets the cool air. She knows she needs to turn around, but she can't look at him right now, she can't look at him without seeing it again on his arm, the inky mark of the wizarding world's dark past and looming future.

It was revealed after what was a perfect date. She was so happy to see him smiling, that grin that was becoming so rare these days, she was sure it was the start of better things for this school year. Then she saw it, seeping through a wet patch on his shirt when he peeled off his coat to layer on top of her own due to the aftermath of an impromptu snowball fight. Ominous and taunting, the dark mark stared back at her.

Now, she finds herself turning slowly to face him, glad momentarily to find he's covered the incriminating tattoo, that she can't see it directly, with all its cruel implications. However, the knowledge of it has engraved itself in the centre of her thoughts, torturous and vile.

"How do you even begin to explain that, Draco?" She demands through gritted teeth. "How?"

He gulps under her harsh look despite knowing it's a quickly crumbling façade, watching her bottom lip tremble and her eyes well with reluctant tears. Words tumble out so quickly he's not even sure they make sense, a panicked onslaught of barely coherent apologies as he steps closer.

"No, Draco." She whimpers, stepping back. "No."

Her eyes clench shut and forces the escape of reluctant tears that she lifts her shaking hand to hide. The logical bit of her, the bit that tells her he doesn't want this, that knows him well enough to know his hand must have been forced in the matter, is hidden behind the bitterly betrayed part of her conscience.

"I can't do this right now." She exhales shakily.

His jaw slackens in defeat, explanations left hanging on the tip of his tongue while he watches her leave, ascending the steps to the castle. The weight of it all settles once again on his chest as it has all year, heavy on his lungs until he's forced to breathe manually under the pressure. He watches her go, convinced that's it, that his one perfect thing is gone for good.

His eyes cast downwards with shame and he's about to turn to walk away himself, to find somewhere to think everything through when he hears her yelp. He's too late in turning to help, instead staring wide-eyed and her crumbled figure at the bottom of the icy steps.

"(Y/N)!"

.

(Y/N) groans softly as she struggles to open her eyes, frown fixing itself on her face at the her unfamiliar surroundings. She doesn't register herself as being in the hospital wing until she hears the gentle tut of Madam Pomfrey from the foot of her bed.

"Miss (Y/L/N)." She greets. "Finally awake I see."

"Finally?"

Her voice is hoarse and quiet, forcing her to wonder just how long she's been out for. Madam Pomfrey gives her an understanding look and gives her a sympathetic smile. The older woman steps around her bed to (Y/N)'s side and gently pushes her into an upright position in order to manoeuvre the pillows in her aid.

"You had quite a tumble down the stairs, my dear." She informs. "Quite the concussion I'm afraid, so don't worry if it takes a moment to remember- I'm sure Mr Malfoy will be able to help once he wakes up too."

The nurse gesture with a slight smirk towards the head of blonde hair resting face down on the edge of the mattress, just by (Y/N)'s legs. The sight of him is enough to have the memories flooding back, heart aching at the memory.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few." Madam Pomfrey informs.

"Thanks." (Y/N) gulps.

Once the older woman is gone, footsteps placing her well in the distance, (Y/N) turns back to the sleeping boy by her side. He looks small here, curled by her side, so sweet it's hard to believe what he's hiding underneath his cool façade and long sleeves. She finds herself reaching a hand out tiredly for his hair, curling her fingers in it gently and watching him stir.

He wakes as groggily as she did, with the same confused frown. Then, eyes meeting hers, they widen and a sigh of sheer relief escapes his lips. He looks exhausted, with ashy grey circles hanging under his eyes, although she's sure they've been like that for months now.

"Thank goodness you're awake, (Y/N)." He exhales. "God, I was so worried."

"How long?"

"About a day." He informs. "You hit you're head really hard-"

"Not that." She corrects in a whisper. "How long have you had t-the mark?"

The light brought to his face from her recovery dies at the question, eyes dropping instantly. She almost feels bad, but she needs to know, she needs to understand this all before she can allow herself to look at him the same.

"The summer." He admits. "Just before the start of term."

She inhales loudly, sharply as she take it in. She pulls her hand back from where he'd clutched it in relief when he first woke. The betrayal bites bitterly at her heart and tugs her brows into a disbelieving frown.

"I know." He whispers.  

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs aloud, causing him to shift guiltily. The logical part of her is back, reminding her that she knows him, knows this is not something he would do if given the option not to.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her words throw him off and he stares at her in disbelief. Where he expects the furrowed brows of an angry glare, he finds her expression full of concern. His confusion over her reaction manifest itself as a frown.

"I'm a- a deatheater, (Y/N)."

His voice is hushed, cautious of the fact only the thin layer of the curtain around her bed shields them from the rest of the hospital wing, from listening ears. She lets out a sigh, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head in response.

"No you're not." She sighs, an almost desperate edge to her voice, as if she's trying to convince herself. "You're not, Draco."

"I took the mark, (Y/N)." He corrects. "I'm sorry."

"There's no way you wanted this." She argues. "This has your father written all over it. I know this isn't you-"

"How do you always do that?"

She can see him trying to keep himself together, fists clenched so tightly they shake and his eyes brimming with tears he's begging to stay put. He lets out a sharp sigh, turning away from her to hide how his mask is crumbling, how he's so quickly beginning to come undone.

"What?"

"What do you see that no one else does?"

His voice cracks. Red rimmed eyes meet (Y/N)'s, so full of raw emotion that she finds herself letting out the smallest of sniffles as her fingers reach out for his closed fists, loosening them enough to grasp his hand in hers.

"I see my boyfriend frowning more than he smiles." She begins, voice trembling. "I see him losing all motivation for his hobbies, I see him sneaking off when he thinks I'm not looking and telling me he's fine when he's not."

She squeezes his hand, begging him to understand, to understand that she's worried, she so worried for him that it hurts. She worried when his smile didn't meet his eyes on the train, and when he asked to stay curled together in his dorm room the day of the first Hogsmeade trip when they would usually go to Honeydukes together. She’s worried all year.

"I was so relieved yesterday to see you smile." She continues. "I miss your smiles so much, Draco."

He lets out an inaudible apology, fixing his tear filled eyes on their joined hands, gasping under the pressure to keep himself together. It's like she's pulled out the last thread, the one that was keeping him in one piece and as if any sudden movement will rip him apart now.

"I know you're a good person." She concludes. "I know you don't want this."

"I don't." He admits through a raspy, quiet sob. "I don't want this but I had to- I had to for my family."

"Your dad?" She asks sadly.

"Father made a mistake, but it's H-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who chose me, to amend my family's names in his eyes." He shakes his head. "It was the only decision that could be made."

"Draco..."

"You know what he did to Cedric Diggory." He explains. "I have to do this to keep us safe."

"You're just a kid, Draco." (Y/N) whimpers. "We're just kid and this isn't supposed to be our battle... I'm so sorry that it's ended up yours"

"Don't apologise to me." He pleads. "Don't., (Y/N)"

"Someone needs to, Draco." She argue. "This isn't fair on you."

Her voice finally cracks and tears rolls down her cheeks. She sighs in frustration when he looks up in concern. She's supposed to the pillar of support right now, hospital bed or not. The tears plough downward regardless though.

"Don't upset yourself." He begs.

"I'm angry, Draco!" She exclaims. "No at you- at this whole thing."

"(Y/N) please, you shouldn't stress yourself after the fall." He gulps. "You'll still have a concussion."

She's almost forgotten where they are, and why they're here in the first place. She lifts her free hand to the newly thumping pain in her head and grimaces. He shuffles closer, lifting a hand to tilt her head for inspection when she swats it away.

"No, I'm the patient so you have to listen to me."

She gives him a stubborn frown that has him sinking back like a scolded child to listen to her. She extends her bandaged arm out and pokes a finger against his chest sternly, his eyes widening at the serious look in her watery eyes.

"We're going to fix this." She states firmly. "We're going to fix this together and you and your family are going to be safe again."

"H-how?"

"I don't know but we will."

She drops her hand to find his once again, squeezing his fingers with a sigh. He stares at her in silence for so long she's worried he's angry, but then his lips twitch into the slightest of smiles and a breathless chuckles falls from his lips.

"Thought I was supposed to be looking after you." He explains softly.

"I only fell, Draco." She assures. "I'm fine."

"(Y/N), you have no idea how terrifying it was so see you on the ground like that." He shakes his head. "Not moving, not waking up, and all I could think was I drove you away and you hurt yourself."

"Draco..." She sighs. "I was surprised, I didn't know what to do when I saw that thing on your arm and  ran when I shouldn't have."

"This isn't your fault."

"It isn't yours either."

He lets out another laugh behind a poorly disguised sob, shaking his head again in surprise, perplexed again by her reactions. Always seeing the good in him, even when everyone is convinced it's not, when he himself has lost hold of it.

"I love you." He exhales.

"I love you too." She smiles sadly. "We're going to work this out, I promise."

He lift's the linked hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles gently. He believes her, something in his heart clinging to the assurance in her voice and the hope in her eyes. She's pulled that last thread, allowed him to fall apart at the seams in order to sew him back together again, gently and patiently, starting with the first stitch.

"I'm going to see that smile again."

.

Authors notes: like to think madam pomfrey is just sat outside the curtains like  👁👄👁 

[at---soulvalor]

@fzzco​  :  ❝  who the fuck made you cry i’ll fucking rip their head off.  ❞  ( x )

             she  wasn't  expecting  fezco  to  find  her  there ,   or  anyone  really .     rode  her  bike  until  her  legs  were  aching ,   chest  burning  and  face  cold  with  the  wind .     she  ended  up  at  the  outskirts  of  town ,   where  it's  a  bit  calmer  and  her  dad  used  to  take  them  to  learn  how  to  ride  their  bikes .     she's  sitting  on  the  ground ,   not  caring  that  her  pants  will  get  dirty ,   arms  hugging  her  knees  to  his  chest ,   tears  running  down  her  face  now  that  she  felt  she  was  truly  alone .     when  she  heard  someone  approaching  she  didn't  care  at  first ,   but  upon  hearing  his  voice  her  hands  quickly  moved  to  wipe  her  cheeks .     "     it's  nothing ,   really .     "     but  her  voice  betrays  her ,   small  and  frail .     he's  never  going  to  believe  that .

            "    it's  stupid .     "     she  admits ,   sure  she  is  exaggerating ,   that  her  brain  is  back  to  the  overthinking  tendency .     she  tells  herself  she  should  have  barbed  wire  around  her  heart  to  make  sure  everyone  would  stay  away  from  it  but  no  matter  how  hurt  she  gets  she's  too  stupid ,   keeps  having  high  expectations  of  the  people  in  her  life .     "    i'm  just  so  tired  of  losing  people .     dad  just  vanished ,   i  have  no  fucking  idea  if  he's  even  alive .     "     she  never  spoke  those  words  aloud  but  they  are  a  recurring  nightmare ,   a  very  plausible  one .     she  hates  herself  for  even  thinking  it ,   feels  her  throat  aching  as  she  swallows  a  sob ,   so  sick  she  feels  she  could  throw  up .     "     and  rue  is  going  the  same  exact  path ,   if  she  doesn't  get  help  she  might  just  overdose  again ,   it's  like  every  time  we  take  a  step  forward  to  being  close  again ,   we  take  three  back .     "     and  the  way  she  looked  when  she  stopped  at  her  place ?     it  was  devastating  and  terrifying  to  see  her  friend  in  that  state .     she  knows  she's  home  now ,   trying  to  stay  clean ,   but  how  long  will  she  hold  on  without  rehab ?     "     and  now  even  my  sister  left .     off  to  stay  with  nate  jacobs ,   of  all  fucking  people .    "     and  she's  so  worried ,   but  what  is  she  supposed  to  do  if  cassie  won't  listen ?

            "     everyone  leaves  me ,   it's  just  a  matter  of  time ,   and  i  don't  know  what  the  fuck  i'm  doing  wrong ,   i  don't  know  how  to  stop  it .     "     she  knows  she's  crying  again  but  has  given  up  on  hiding  it ,   body  trembles  slightly  as  she  avoids  his  gaze ,   embarrassed  and  frustrated  with  herself  that  she  has  just  said  all  of  that .     she  has  reached  her  limit  and  needs  to  pour  it  all  out  for  the  sake  of  her  sanity .     but  it's  messy ,   overwhelming ,   she  usually  keeps  it  in ,   piles  it  all  on  until  she  can't  hold  it  anymore .     what  is  he  going  to  think  of  her  now  that  she  lost  all  composure ?

[strawberrylemonz]

Be Okay

Part 8

Part 9 [CURRENT]

Part 10

DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin

Enjoy!

------------

The kids were fast asleep in their room, all drained of their energy reserves from playing so much with each other. In the living area, Fundy sat on the couch, staring out the window. The sound of a throat clearing brought him back to reality. Turning to his side, he saw Tommy hold out a cup of tea to him, his own cup of tea in his other hand. Accepting the drink with a nod, Fundy took small sips as he enjoyed the calming sensation in the room. He shifted over on the couch, allowing space for Tommy to settle down. The two sat in a comfortable silence, one that Fundy was nervous to break. 

“I’m glad you’re not dead, Tommy”

He willed himself to look over at his uncle, not sure what to expect. He still remembered his uncle as a brash, loud, spirited teenage boy, so it was strange to see him the way he was an adult. Sill startled with how calm the boy could be, Fundy watched as Tommy, eyes closed, simply nodded as he took a sip of his tea. Letting out a sigh, Tommy opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling with a warm look in his eyes.

“I’m also glad that I’m not dead” 

The two sat in silence once more, their teas running low. After looking around the room, Fundy spoke up once more.

“Did you actually build your house? I remember that you always hated building.”

The low chuckle of his uncle made him squirm. It wasn’t that he was scared or uncomfortable with it, it was just that it had been so long. When was the last time Fundy just sat down, warm drink in hand, just to stay up and talk to Tommy? His mind immediately went back to the days of his childhood, before the wars forced his mind to shift his body into an older state. He remembered how Tommy would rush to his room, no matter how old Fundy was, just to calm him and keep him from waking a very tired, lonely Wilbur. He remembered how Tommy would carry him into the kitchen, letting him sit on the counter as long as Wilbur never found out he did so. He would watch as his uncle made two cups of hot cocoa, and took Fundy back to his room. The two would sit in silence, listening to Tommy’s discs, until Fundy would fall asleep. Sometimes, if Fundy had a very bad nightmare, they would stay up and talk the night away. Until this very moment, Fundy didn’t realize how much he missed times like this. Smiling down at his tea, he listened as Tommy spoke up. 

“Yeah, I built this house. Did it myself, too. It was the first official build, aside from my bench in the market, on this server. Everyone else was so focused on teaching me how to properly build and work with all sorts of materials, so I eventually made them proud by creating this. I’ve noticed that it’s been slowly growing as the days go by. It’s quite comforting, really.”

“And this adventure park you’ve been advertising? When will it be done? Who helped?”

“Innit an Adventure? Built that all by myself, no help at all. It’s already done being built, I just pushed opening day back a few months so the server can properly prepare to hosts the guests.”

Fundy nodded as he hummed in acknowledgment, a habit he had picked up from Tommy when he was much younger. No longer afraid of the possibility of being thrown out by his uncle, Fundy continued the conversation. 

“So Tubbo and the girls are doing good? Tubbo just vanished the same day you did, and Drista stopped visiting after a while.”

“They’re doing perfectly fine, actually. They all live in Stampy’s Lovely World. It’s a nice server, I’m glad that they ended up there. Hey, Fundy?”

“Hm?”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how’s the server?”

Tommy watched as his nephew deflated, a shaky sigh leaving him. Not wanting to push the boy past his limits, Tommy was quick to speak up once again.

“You don’t have to answer me right now, I understand needed to wait before discussing certain things.”

“No, you deserve to know the situation. It’s, well, it’s complicated? So much has happened since you and Tubbo left the server. I’m not even completely sure as to what’s all happening because went into hiding. I do know that Philza and Technoblade have gone around, destroying anything that they identified as a government. Dream went off the rails searching for the two of you, and he’s threatened and punished anyone he though was hiding you guys from him. We received some new players in the server. They’ve helped settle down some of the threats. Oh, remember that weird red stuff that was spreading?”

“Yeah, what was that shit, anyways?”

“Apparently it sprouted from that egg, you know, from that weird egg propaganda? It started possessing and corrupting the members of the Badlands. From what I’ve heard, it’s been temporarily contained and the possessed members have returned to their normal state, but who knows how long that will last. When I left, the containment seemed so unstable. Oh, there is the thing with Wilbur.”

“What about Wilbur?”

“The last time I stumbled upon Philza, he was trying to resurrect him. I don’t know if they succeeded, though. Quite frankly, I’m not sure if I want to know.”

He felt like a jerk telling his uncle, the brother of his dad, that he wasn’t even sure that he wanted his dad to be alive. He didn’t even bring himself to explain his reasons for it, how he was scared whether or not his dad would be the dad he used to have, or the one that was barely recognizable. His negative thoughts, however, melted away as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking over at his uncle, he didn’t expect to see the understanding grin that danced on Tommy’s lips. He didn’t expect to hear the broken, wavering voice of Tommy.

“I know.”

Fundy stiffened as Tommy put an arm around his nephew, pulling him in for a side hug. After moments of hesitation, Fundy eventually relaxed in the embrace. It had been so long since Fundy has felt such affection by family that wasn’t his son. He sucked in a breathe as he tried to not let out the sob that was bubbling up inside him. Once he heard Tommy’s voice, however, he allowed tears to escape. It was okay, though, because he knew Tommy was letting his own tears out as well. And as Tommy put a hand on Fundy’s head, lightly scratching his comfort spot between his ears, Fundy couldn’t stop the half sigh, half sob that escaped his lips. And as soon as Tommy spoke up again, he let out all the hurt he kept cooped up out, in the form of messy sobs. 

“It’s okay, Fundy, you can let it out now. You’re free now. You’ll be okay.”

------------

Fundy felt relieved that he didn’t have to be on guard all hours of both day and night. He was grateful that Tommy let him sleep in that morning, assuring him that he would handle the kids’ breakfast. Yawning as he stretched out his limbs, waking himself up, he smiled as he looked around the guest room that would be converted to his own. Don’t get him wrong, Fundy adored Theo, but it was nice to be able to wake up without fear or stress regarding his son’s health and safety. When he walked into the kitchen, he couldn’t help but smile as the kids helped Tommy with breakfast. As Tommy set down the hot cakes on plates, the kids fought over the fruit and syrup to decorate them. And as Theo laughed aloud, smiling brightly, Fundy realized that he didn’t regret a thing regarding his son. 

“Papa! Look! Clem and I made this one to look like you!”

Fundy laughed as he walked over to the kids, saying a quick greeting to his uncle. Accepting the plate from the two children, he smiled down at the beaming faces in front of them. Watching as the two settled themselves on the counter, he took turns ruffling their hair with his free hand. 

“Look at you two! Wonderful artists! Good job! Thank you!”

Delighted with the praises, Clem squealed as she clapped her hands, hopping up and down as she sat on her side of the counter. Theo laughed as he joined in on the clapping, equally as delighted as his younger cousin. Fundy just laughed as he helped Tommy carry the plates to the table, the children waddling behind once they were released from their tall prisons. Sitting Theo down beside Clementine, Fundy watched as Tommy poured drinks for everyone. And as they all sat down to enjoy breakfast as a family, Fundy knew that Tommy was right.

He would be okay.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Archie//happily ever after

Request: Archie Andrews imagine where the reader is pregnant and dodger targets the pregnant reader and you can add whatever else you want but a fluffy ending and then skip to the birth

hey! first, trigger warning: threats/stalking (ikr, what a way to spend valentines day) other than that, i hope you like this!! i really wasn’t sure what to do with it but i think i figured it out! enjoy!

“Archie, really I’m fine.” The last step creaks beneath your feet, the sound alerting your mom to your presence. She looks up from the book she’s reading and sends you a small wave and half a smile before going straight back into reading it. 

It’s one of those that you always find donated somewhere, with the really weird cover of a poorly drawn woman clinging onto a half naked man. This time she’s branched out and is reading about a werwolf falling in love with a human, but it’s still got the same amount of R-rated smut in that makes you shiver every time you think of her reading it.  

You’ve told her that if she wants to read about stuff like that, she’s better off going on the internet, but computers are a gateway to viruses and hacking so she doesn’t touch the computer thats years older than you, sat in the spare room. 

Your dad is stood over the stove, stirring something in a pot that makes you feel sick and hungry at the same time and you’re not sure if you want to throw up or eat all of it. 

You peer over his shoulder, and he looks back at you with a smile before lifting the spoon out and offering it to you. Your eyes light up as you taste it and give him a silent thumbs up while Archie rambles about nothing on the other side of the phone. 

“Seriously I’m okay.” You say again, but he’s not listening and if it weren’t for the bump attached to your stomach that makes it more and more difficult to walk, you’d be over there in five minutes to kick his ass. “You don’t have to come over.” You roll your eyes at him. 

Ever since you got pregnant and he lost his dad, he’s been obsessively worrying about your safety. And it was sweet at first, he was looking out for you and his baby, but now, you’re worried that if he keeps up with this level of anxiety, he’s going to break. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You interrupt him and for a change he actually shuts up. “Byeee. We love you.” You add and hang up quickly. 

“Was that Archie?” Your dad asks and you let out a small huff. “I see it’s still all rainbows and hearts with you two.” He teases and you narrow your eyes at him. 

“He’s just worried about us.” You reply and point down to your rounded stomach, currently being hidden by the oversized t-shirt you stole from Archie. “Too worried if you ask me.” You mumble and shuffle over to the fridge. 

“Hey!” Your dad smacks your hand with the towel resting over his shoulder. “No snacking, dinner is almost finished!” 

“I’m eating for two dad. I could eat the entire contents of the fridge and dinner and still be hungry.” You reply and he grumbles quietly to himself while plating the food up. 

“You know, I was just like Archie when your mom was pregnant with you.” He says and you place the jar of pickles back in the fridge. “Maybe a little less, but then again me and your mother did live togeth-” 

“Dad.” 

“Sorry. All I’m saying is that it’s natural for him to be anxious. I mean, it’s your first kid and a lot has happened to the two of you. He’s bound to be a little more nervous than most. But it’s not a bad thing.” 

“It’s an annoying thing.” You reply and he rolls his eyes.

“What’s an annoying thing, dear?” Your mom asks as she shuffles past you and opens the fridge. 

“Do you people not see the food that is literally on plates waiting to be eating?” Your dad throws his hands up and you and your mom share a look.

“We do dear.” Your mom cups his cheek and smiles up at him sweetly. “It’s just we don’t want to eat it.” She adds making you laugh loudly. 

“Archie is an annoying thing.” You giggle while your dad glares at the two of you. 

“All men are dear.” She replies and pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Here you go.” She hands you an envelope and you look at her confused. It’s blank, apart from your name in bold black letters and a small x near the bottom. “It was pushed through the front door just before I came in here to see what abomination your father had created today.” 

“The only abomination I created was her, and you helped.” He says and grabs her waist, pulling her into his chest and the two of them giggle. 

“Hey! And ew.” You pull a face and rip the letter open. Your eyes scan the same clunky writing and suddenly you feel your blood run cold. You drop the letter and rush towards the window, frantically pulling the blinds up. 

“What is it?” Your mom joins you, her eyebrows knitted in confusion as she watches you move frantically. 

‘roses are red, violets are blue, you can’t see me but i can see you’ 

Your dad reads aloud, his voice trailing off near the end and slowly he looks back at you. 

The kitchen suddenly seems a lot darker than it was a minute earlier. The light flickers and bushes rustle outside, making you shuffle further towards your mom and suddenly you wish Archie had come over. 

“What?” Your mom laughs. “Who would send something like that?” She shifts uncomfortably and wraps her arms around her. “Y/n, is this one of your friends playing a prank?” 

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t know who it is.” 

“Well they know you.” She replies. 

“Audrey.” Your dad says lowly and she shuts up. 

The front bell ringing makes the three of you jump, and before either of your parents have a chance to do anything, you’re already stomping your way towards the door. They follow you quickly, both of them shouting for you to leave it but you’ve never listened to them before so why should you now. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before swinging the front door open. 

The only thing that greets you is the flowers and ornaments that line the porch and you let out a shaky breath, but then you see it and it feels like you can’t breath again. 

“Oh. Isn’t that nice?” You say sarcastically. Your mom and dad look at each other and then at you, confusion turning into fear when they notice the picture pinned to the front door. 

Your smiling face stares back at the three of you, with scratched out eyes and red paint splattered over it. 

“Y/n, Audrey, go inside.” Your dad ushers the two of you back in before snatching the paper and slamming the door shut. 

You watch your dad storm into the kitchen to grab the not so secret lighter from your mom’s not so secret smoking stash. Your mom follows and the two of them stand in front of the sink as your defaced picture burns. 

You sigh and pull your phone out, already knowing that this is not going to end well. 

“Hey Archie.” You start slowly and you can already hear his heart rate rising with each second that passes. “You might want to come over.” 

---

A rattle at your bedroom window has you awake and sat upright within seconds. You watch the shadow of a figure contort and move across your bedroom walls and you know you should run and scream and cry, but you can’t. Your frozen still in your bed with nothing but a lamp and a duvet cover to protect you. 

A silent sob escapes your lips and you slowly push the blanket off of you, your legs shaking as your feet touch the soft rug by your bed. The wood rattles and you feel the breath leave your lungs and a scream forces its way out of your throat. 

Whoever had sent you that letter, whoever had been watching and following and mailing you pictures of you and your parents doing mundane things like mow the lawn and water plants, they’ve finally decided that tonight is the night. 

Tonight the Y/l/n’s become the newest family to be added on to the growing list of Riverdale’s murder victims. 

Honestly you thought you’d have a little more time, you seem to have escaped death before when investigating the going’s on in town. So you assumed this would just be another thing that gets solved. 

But after four days of Archie and your friends working tirelessly to try and figure out who wants you dead...nothing. And so as you make eye contact with the person or thing that has come to murder you...hopefully in a fast manner, you know this is the end. 

But then the window opens and you see a flash of ginger hair sticking out of a black hoodie and you drop back down onto your bed, ragged breaths leaving your lips. 

“It’s okay.” Archie shushes and rushes towards you. “It’s fine. It’s just me.” He reassures you and pulls you into a tight hug. 

“You idiot.” You smack his chest and he coughs at the force. “I thought you were it! I thought you were going to murder me, you’re a fucking idiot.” You smack his arm with each word. “Idiot.” You finish and he waits a minute before deciding to speak. 

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “It’s just it’s late and I didn’t think anybody would answer the door.” 

“So you decide to climb through the window?” You ask and he shrugs, kicking his shoes off and throwing his jacket over your desk chair. 

“Hey, I used to do it all the time.” He replies and climbs into your bed. 

“Yeah, I remember.” You reply and shuffle in next to him. He props his head on his arm and shifts onto his side so he can look at you properly. “What happened to you?” You ask and stroke his cheek gently. “Why do you look like you’ve just come from a fight.” You add and follow the bruises and dried blood covering his face. 

“Because.” He mumbles and looks down. 

“Because?” 

“Because I have.” He replies and your jaw drops. 

“Archie, you’re gonna be a dad. You can’t go around fighting people because they’ve stolen from Pop’s or threatened your friends.” 

“I know.” He nods and drops onto his back. “I did it because of you.” 

“What?” 

“I know who sent you that note. It was Dodger.” 

Of course it was Dodger. He’d been nothing but a pain in Archie’s ass since he turned up and started involving kids in drugs. Of course, Archie being Archie tried his best to get the kids out of it and Dodger away from Riverdale. However this place being the way it is, nothing is ever that easy, and now you’ve landed yourself a stalker. 

“Him?” You ask surprised. “What the hell did I do to him?” 

“Date me.” He shrugs and you glance at him. 

“And he wants to do that?” You ask and wiggle your eyebrows making him laugh. “Now I understand the whole creepy poetry theme.” You say and glance at the small pile of threats sitting on your desk. 

You’ve had one every single day for the past four days, meaning you’re under 24 hour surveillance by your mom, dad and Archie. 

“No, he wants to kill me, so I guess he thought he’d go after you.” He replies and you huff loudly. 

“Well that’s just plain rude. It’s you he’s got the problem with, not me.” 

“I know.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I tracked him down and told him to leave you alone.”

“And did that work?” You ask and he sends you a look. 

“Does it look like it worked?” He points to his bruised eye and you shrug. 

Silence fills your small room and you stare up at the ceiling, hoping that it’ll tell you the right thing to say. 

“Archie?” You ask and he hums in reply. “You know I love you right? Like more than anything ever?” He nods and you take a deep breath. “You know that me and this baby are going to be fine. Nothing bad is going to happen. I know you’re under a lot of stress and I know you’re really worried, but beating people up isn’t going to fix everything, no matter how much they deserve it. Maybe you should talk to your mom or something.” You whisper and he sighs. 

You feel his hand against your skin, his touch light and soft as his fingers run up your arm, until he rests them against your stomach. You rest your own hand on top of his and let out a shaky breath. 

“It will be okay.” You say, although right now you’re not sure who you’re trying to convince. Because having a baby is terrifying anyway, but it’s even scarier at 18 in a town that’s most famous for murder. It feels like every year there’s something new that you, Archie and your friends barely get out of alive. 

It’s hard keeping yourself safe when the baby is safe inside you, but what happens when they’re born and it become more difficult to keep them safe. 

“Y/n. Listen to me.” He starts, picking up on your panicked breathing. 

“I promised you I would keep you safe. And I plan on keeping that promise. Nobody is ever going to hurt you or our baby.” 

---

It’s been a long and stressful journey, and there were parts of it that thought you wouldn’t make it. 

But finally you’re here. 

The hospital smells like machines and hand sanitiser, and the four blue walls feel like they’ve paled in the time you’ve been stuck between them. 

Archie thought he’d never be able to step foot in a hospital ever again, not after everything that has happened, and not without his father. But then your waters broke in the middle of Pop’s and all of his fears were forgotten. 

Everything after arriving at the hospital seemed to pass him in a blur. He was sure five minutes ago he was helping you through the front doors of Riverdale General Hospital, rambling incoherently about you and the baby and how you need help, and the next he’s stood beside you, letting you break his hand and watching nurses and midwives rush around you. 

Your scream forces him out of the daydream he’s in, and then it’s not you’re scream he can here anymore. High pitched wails are heard throughout the whole room and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

“Well done babe.” He whispers and presses a kiss to your knuckles. Your let out a tired chuckle and drop your head back onto the pillow. 

“I did it!” You whisper, and a few stray tears roll down your cheeks. Archie grabs a tissue to wipe them off, before pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. 

“I’m so proud of you.” He smiles and kisses you again. Your eyes flutter closed, but a loud cry makes you sit up a little straighter, despite the pain you feel. 

“Y/n. Archie. Meet your son.” A grey haired woman grins as she hands you your son. His small fists kick away the blanket wrapped around him and you both let out a small giggle as you watch his face scrunch up into a yawn. 

“Our son?” Archie asks and runs a hand over his cheek. “Do you think he’ll be ginger?” He asks and you look up at him. He’s already staring back at you, and there’s a look in his eyes that is reserved only for you. It’s so full of love and awe and it makes you feel more loved that you ever have before. 

“I really, really hope so.” You smile and kiss him slowly. A small noise forces you to pull away and the two of you stare down at your newborn son. “Have you got any ideas for names?” 

“Archie Junior!” Archie replies and you send him a look. 

“I have not spent the last 9 hours in labor for you to call our baby Archie Junior.” You say making him huff and mumble a small ‘fine’. “What about Freddie?” You ask and he looks at you quickly. 

“Really?” He asks, his eyes watery and you smile sadly. 

“Of course.” You nod. “Freddie Archibald Andrews. Named after the kindest, sweetest and bravest men I have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

✨tagged ✨

@moxleybabe

[janetbrown711]

"Don't be scared, I'm right here," Yakko?

The Warner siblings were doing okay.

Sure, there were a few bumps along the path here and there, Wakko almost passing out being one of them, but ever since Yakko got some food in him, he was starting to look and feel better. Not his usual self, of course (you can’t just shake off starvation like that), but better. Then again, almost anything is a better state than dying. 

But still.

Nothing major had happened. They were sailing smoothly up and down the mountains, the wind and snow on their side. They were even having a little bit of fun again. It was... nice. 

“So the wishing star can really give you anything you want?” Dot asked. Wakko nodded. 

“That’s what Pip said,” He grinned, his tongue sticking out. 

“So we’re really gonna get mom and dad back? Wow,” Dot smiled a little. “I’m done with grandma.”

“I think you speak for all of us when you say that,” Yakko laughed. 

“What do wanna do when they come back?” Dot asked her brothers. 

“I think I’d give them a big hug and then we’d go back to the garden and have a big fancy picnic all day, just like the ones we used to have on mine and Dadoo’s birthday,” Wakko grinned. 

“What about you Yakko?” Dot turned her head to him. 

“That’s a good one...” Yakko thought for a moment. Truthfully, he had no idea. He’d been preoccupied with worries about his sibs ever since they died he hardly had the time to envision what he’d do if they came back or never died. He had to give it some thought. 

“I’d hug them, obviously. Then, I’d tell them about all the good things they missed, the lessons we’ve given you, the birthdays, and other good things like that. Then, I’d just... spend time with them. We wouldn’t have to do anything- just to sit in a room and read with them in the room too would be enough for me...” Yakko thought aloud. 

“Oooo, that sounds nice,” Dot smiled a little. 

“What about you Dot?” Yakko asked.  Dot sat and thought. 

“I think I’d hug them, tell them how much I missed them, and then have mom brush my hair and sing lullabies, and Dad reads bedtime stories... maybe we’d even play dolls together,” Dot hugged herself a little, touching her hair lightly. 

“It’s been so long... I barely remember what it felt like...” Dot frowned. Yakko felt a wave of sadness and empathy for her. 

“It’s okay Dot- mom will be back brushing your hair and singing lullabies and Dad’ll be back with his stories before you know it,” Yakko reassured, and Dot’s face brightened. 

“Yeah! They’ll be back before I know it,” She said happily. 

“How much longer do you think, Yakko?” Wakko asked. 

“Probably within the hour.” 

That felt crazy to say. 

“Within the hour.”

His parents were less than an hour away. 

This was actually happening. 

“Cool,” Wakko nodded. 

“Yeah... cool,” Yakko chuckled, still reeling at the thought.

The siblings rode in silence for a moment, each processing just how close they were, getting more and more excited the more they thought about it. 

This wasn’t some far-off fantasy- the star was right there, just beyond. All they had to do was reach it first, and since they hadn’t run into any other travelers it actually looked like they’d make it- it seemed luck was finally on their side for once.  

“Hey Yakko- there’s someone behind us,” Wakko pulled on Yakko’s pant leg and pointed. 

Of course there was...

Yakko sighed, and looked, before freezing. 

It was the royal carriage. 

“Fire!” A voice from within the carriage ordered. 

“You two- get down,” Yakko ordered, as a cannon was heard, and it exploded no more than two feet to the left of them. Dot and Wakko were quick to obey. 

“Of course her carriage has a cannon- of course it does,” Yakko growled as he steered them away, as he heard it fire again, this time landing two feet from their right. 

“Yakko- are we gonna-?”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, I got you,” Yakko assured, looking back and saw Angelina sticking her head out the window. 

She looked terrible. The wind caused her usually perfect up-do to lose quite a few hairs, which were now flapping in the wind. Rage had consumed her, and her usually refined makeup created dark smudgy circles under her eyes. Her fur shawl also slipped off of one shoulder, and overall she looked like she was losing it. 

Huh. 

Yakko did always wonder what would happen if they tried to run away. 

Guess that was the answer. 

Yakko then put his attention back onto the path ahead, and bit his lip when he realized it was about to get a little narrow, meaning he probably couldn’t weave should they aim directly for them... though he could try... Hopefully, the person firing was a better person than their grandmother, and wouldn’t aim for them, not on purpose...

“It’ll be okay,” Yakko said again, sucking in a breath of cold air as he weaved through a few trees before going onto the narrow path. 

Thankfully, it appeared the person in charge of firing was either a poor shot or wasn’t aiming for them on purpose like he wanted, because no matter what, he always hit the mountainside. However, this wasn’t a good thing, because it caused the snow to shift and for rocks to fall onto the path, which Yakko feared would cause either an avalanche or rockslide- neither of which would be good.

“Is that grandma?” Wakko asked, peeping his head to look. 

“I said to stay down,” Yakko ordered, and Wakko went back down.  

The cannon fired again, this time sending a loud cracking sound through the mountain. 

Yakko just had to jinx it, didn’t he?

He heard the guard behind on the carriage curse, and Yakko tried to pick up the speed of the sled before anything happened- they were almost down too- After that it was just an open field to the wishing star. 

“Yakko- a-are you sure we’re gonna-”

“We’re gonna make it Dot, I promise,” Yakko really didn’t want to deal with any kind of negativity at the moment. He had to focus. 

Just as he predicted, the guard had shot into the cliff, which was now causing massive amounts of snow and rock to start plummeting down the mountain, in a weird mix of “avalanche” and “rockslide”. 

“If we weren’t wishing for our parents back, I’d wish we had better luck,” Yakko muttered, trying to avoid falling rocks as the path widened once more. 

“Agreed,” Wakko said, holding onto Dot. That was good at least...

The impending doom as it became clearer that there was no way they were going to make it off the mountain without being knocked off their feet and losing the sled or worse was not. 

“Brace yourselves you two,” Yakko said, not knowing what advice he should give. He had never survived an avalanche- what did he expect?

Eventually, Yakko held onto his siblings too closing his eyes and bracing himself when he felt the sled get turned over and the three of them were tossed into the air. 

The three of them flew for what felt like too long, before hitting the snow with a  sharp thud which forced them to let go of each other. 

With all the strength Yakko had in him, he clawed and dug his way out of the snow, and was relieved that both of his sibs had at least gotten their hands to the top by the time he was all the way out. Quickly, Yakko got the rest of him out, and dug out his sibs, surprised to find they had already reached the plane. 

“There it is... the Wishing Star,” he said as he helped Wakko stand. 

“Wow...” Dot said in awe. Yakko looked back and saw that somehow their grandmother’s stupid carriage had survived.

“C’mon, we have no time to lose,” he said, taking his sibs hands and running for it. 

He was not going to lose to her. Not here, not now, not ever. 

He heard shouting from behind, likely Angelina losing her mind even more than she already had. He couldn’t care less- he was focused more on getting to the star than whatever She was saying. Dot however, kept turning her head. 

“Don’t look back Dot,” He ordered. Dot didn’t listen.

“I don’t care anymore- get the smaller one!” He heard, and Yakko panicked picked up the pace. However, Dot froze in her tracks, letting go of Yakko’s hand, looking back. 

“Wakko! Watch out!” She shouted, shoving him out of the way-

An ear-piercing gunshot rang through the plane, and Dot screamed in pain, before falling to the ground. 

“Dot!” Yakko screeched to a halt and ran back to her, while Wakko remained frozen on the ground in shock. 

The snow around her was already turning red. 

“Oh god- oh god oh god oh god-” was the only thing Yakko could say as he knelt onto the snow and examined his sister. 

“Y-y-yakko-” She said, shuddering in pain, which only made it worse. Yakko put her head on his knees and held her hand. 

He could hear arguing from behind. 

“It’s gonna be okay Dot- It’s gonna be okay,” he said, tears already filling his eyes and a tight lump formed in his throat. 

“I-it hurts Yakko,” she said, fear in her eyes. 

“I know Dot, b-but it’s gonna be okay,” Wakko managed to say, crawling over from where he was. Yakko looked up to try to see if he could see their grandmother, but he couldn’t. Yakko realized he didn’t care- he couldn’t care. Not right now. 

Dot shuddered in pain. “I-i wanna go home,” She said. 

“I know Dot, we’re gonna. We’re gonna get our wish and we’re gonna go home, okay? W-we’ll pick you up and carry you if we have to,” Yakko said shakily. 

“I-i’m scared,” she practically whispered. 

“Don’t be scared, I’m right here,” Yakko assured, giving her hand a squeeze. Dot cringed as her breathing got more unsteady. She turned her head away from her brothers. 

“M-mom? Dad?” She asked weakly. Yakko sniffled and wiped his eyes. 

“They aren’t here Dot- th-they-” 

Wakko tugged on his arm. Yakko looked up. 

His parents were there, running in the snow with all their might. 

“Th-they... they can’t...” Yakko couldn’t say anything. The siblings were dumbstruck. 

“Mommy! Daddy!!!” Dot was sobbing now too. 

“Dottie!!!” Their parents cried out in unison, picking up their pace until they reached them. 

“Y-you’re... y-you can’t...” Yakko couldn’t speak. Wakko practically lept into his mother’s arms sobbing, while William went and held Dot’s other hand. 

“It’s okay, Dot. W-we’re here pumpkin,” William said, placing a soft hand on her cheek. 

“Daddy, i-it really hurts,” she cried. 

“I-i know pumpkin,” William said, as he slowly picked her up. Yakko couldn’t move a muscle, dumbstruck and numb at the scene that laid before him. 

“It’s gonna be okay- alright? Everything is gonna be just fine,” he spoke so softly...

“I wanna go home. I wanna hear a story,” She said, gasping in pain. 

“We’ll go home real soon, okay pumpkin? We’ll go home and we’ll read you a bedtime story and tuck you in, alright?” He asked. Dot nodded even though the action clearly pained her. 

“I-i w-wanna go home,” she sobbed, closing her eyes intensely. 

“I know sweetie,” William hugged her closer, rubbing his face against hers. 

“Y-y-yakko,” Dot turned her head weakly. 

“Y-yeah? I-I’m here, Dot,” Yakko wiped his eyes, being forced back into the moment. William slowly set her back down again and he held her hand once more.

“Yakko, you’ll go home too, right?” She sniffled and smiled weakly. 

“O-of course. All of us- we’ll all be there, okay? We’re gonna get our wish and we’re gonna go home, okay?” Yakko asked, looking at his parents and Wakko. 

“O-okay,” she smiled a little more. “We-we’re gonna go home, a-and be together- a big happy family,” she said. 

“Y-yeah Dot. A big happy f-family,” Yakko stroked her face with his thumb, doing his best not to choke. 

“Together...” Dot said, before another wave of pain washed over her. 

“Yakko I don’t wanna die,” she looked at him. “I-i’m not ready to die.”

“Dot- no. Y-you can’t die-” Yakko pleaded with her. 

“Yakko I wanna go home,” She cried, squeezing his hand with all the weak might within her. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Dot. Y-you aren’t gonna die,” William said, but it was clear the light was already fading. 

“I-i l-l-love y-you...”

Her eyes became glossed over, and she went limp. 

No. 

No, no, no. 

William checked for a pulse. 

No. 

He checked for breathing. 

This can’t be- she couldn’t be-

Eventually, he just picked her up and broke down. 

Yakko couldn’t believe this. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. 

Dot... 

Dot was dead. 

.o0o.

Dot was dead. 

Her baby girl was dead. 

Lena hadn’t said a word- why hadn't she said anything?!

She should’ve said something- anything, but now-

Oh god. 

She hugged Wakko tighter. 

She tried looking down at Dot, but she couldn’t-

God, there was so much blood. 

Instead, she looked away- out towards the mountains- where she saw-

No...

She wouldn’t-

She would. 

The next emotion Lena felt was rage. It consumed her, mixing in with her grief and anguish. She sprang to life, picking up William’s sword and running toward the Wishing Star, fueled by her anger and hatred.  

She ignored any pain felt in her legs, focusing only on stopping Her- she couldn’t reach the star. 

“Stop. Right. There,” She said, cutting off her mother from the star, pointing the sword at her mother. 

“Angelina,” The queen halted, even taking a step back. “Y-you’re supposed to be dead.”

“You’d know that, wouldn’t you?” Lena glared. “Your assassins failed. William and I survived.”

“Not without scars, I see,” Angelina looked her daughter up and down in disgust, regarding the massive scar on her shoulder. Lena glared. 

“I don’t care about that. You took everything from me- you killed Dot,” Lena was crying. 

“They were aiming for that abomination of a younger son,” Angelina rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault that girl was foolish enough to jump in the way.”

“You do not get to speak of her or Wakko that way,” Lena stepped forward, the sword now inches away from the queen. She laughed. 

“You don’t have the guts,” She smiled. “You’re soft and weak. Never once have you ever fought back.” 

“Ever since I was born, you’ve hated me. You’ve exploited me, broken me, destroyed me. All of this I could’ve found within myself to forgive, but the moment you laid a hand on my children was the moment you signed your death certificate,” Lena stepped forward. 

“And yet you’ve never retaliated,” Angelina was still holding onto her pride. 

“You’ve taken everything from me,” Lena didn’t regard that comment. “I used to think there was hope- I was foolish, a child even. But now I know you’re nothing but a selfish monster. A monster who I will never let hurt me or my family ever again.”

“You foolish ingrate-”

“Goodbye, mother.” Lena said, before stepping back and stabbing the sword through her. 

Her mother’s body hit the snow, and she was dead without another word.

Good Riddance. 

Lena went back to her family.  

She gave Yakko a hug. 

“We can still fix this,” Lena said. Yakko sniffled, confused. Lena helped him up, Wakko too. 

“William,” She said softly. Her husband looked at her, and she gestured toward the star. He nodded, picking up Dot, and standing. 

Lena took in a deep breath, squeezing both of her boy’s hands before walking towards the Wishing Star. When they reached it, Wakko silently asked for her permission to touch it. Lena nodded, and Wakko reached forward, and the star shined brighter, a burst of light shooting through the sky. 

Wakko closed his eyes and made his wish. 

The star’s glow increase, as it expanded, sending a refreshingly warm breeze through the air until it disappeared completely, leaving only grass behind from where the star had melted the snow. Everyone held their breath. 

“D-dad..? M-mom? What..?” Dot opened her eyes.

“Dot,” Lena smiled, tears of relief and joy now flowing. 

Quickly, everyone wrapped Dot into a big, sobbing, relieving, and loving group hug.

Dot was alive, and everything was okay.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

[itstheoneshot]

Oh, Baby

request

Summary: As you make your way into the third trimester of your pregnancy, every day your partner loves you more and more.

Word Count: 3.1k

Pairing: Kris Wu x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Unprotected Sex, Pregnancy/Breeding Kink.

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It is time for you to leave, so you make your way to the front door. You are dressed in a t-shirt and loose cotton shorts, as they are the only things that fit you comfortably anymore. You see your shoes on the ground, and attempt to scuff your feet into them, but leaning down to pull them on properly is impossible for you now. You are 6 months pregnant, and your bump has gotten impossibly large, you have no idea how you are supposed to fit another 3 months of growth into your tiny body.

You feel helpless and stupid, not being able to do something as simple as tying up your own shoelaces, and with the unstable hormones that have plagued you throughout your pregnancy, such a small thing like this tips you right over the edge.

You break down, tears flow from your eyes, and sobs escape your mouth. You are so tired of feeling this way, it is so hard, you used to be proud of how independent you were, but now you can’t do anything at all.

It only takes a moment for your partner to hear you, he is so attentive, and it takes a moment longer for his footsteps to echo down the hallway as he rushes to make his way to your side.

“Oh, my love, what’s the matter?” He asks you worriedly.

You lift your gaze to meet his, finding solace in his beautiful eyes. Your tall, beautiful partner, Yifan, grazes his fingers across your cheek, as his other hand instinctively races to your stomach. You know that his first thought will be that something is wrong with the baby, though that is not the case. You are embarrassed about how upset you are, even more so than you are by your inability to reach your feet.

“I can’t get my shoes on.” You say, feeling even worse after saying it aloud.

Yifan smiles at you, and without a second thought, he picks you up carefully, and carries you into the living room. He gently places you down on the sofa, and kneels at your feet you tie your laces for you. You feel like crying all over again, having only just ceased your tears, as Yifan takes you into his arms once more, and walks you back to the front door.

“You just need to ask, baby. I got you, you know this.” He assures you.

You nod at him, your lips are settled in a pout, and you hear his words, but it is still so hard for you to ask for help. Yifan leans down to kiss you, before pulling on his own shoes and leading you to your car. He checks that your seatbelt is on properly, the sashes comfortable and safe in their position around your stomach, before he begins the drive to the hospital.

It is time for your regular scan, and Yifan took the day off work to be there with you. He does not want to miss a moment of your pregnancy, and you could swear he was more excited about this than you are. He has had baby-fever since the moment you two started dating, so when you finally fell pregnant, he was over the moon, as you were too.

———

You lay on the hospital bed, with your shirt pulled up, exposing your stomach. The sonographer stands on one side of you, while Yifan sits on the other side, with his hand holding yours, and your fingers intertwined. The pair of you watch as the sonographer pours out the ultrasound gel onto your stomach, the cold sensation gives you goosebumps, but you are soon distracted from that, as the screen above you lights up, and you and Yifan get to see your little baby.

“Are you sure you still don’t want to know the sex?” The sonographer asks.

“I don’t want to.” Yifan answers, before you get a chance to, though you feel the same.

“I want a surprise.” You add, “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

“Well, they are growing well.” The sonographer says.

You smile at this, as Yifan’s grip grows tighter on your hand, you glance over to see him staring back at you, eyeing your stomach, gazing up and down your body. You cough, gaining his attention, and he turns his focus back to the screen, though you stare at him a moment longer to see a blush run to his cheeks. The baby’s measurements are taken, to make sure that everything is going well, and the sonographer has no concerns with what he finds.

“The baby is taller than average, though.” He says.

“So they take after their dad.” You laugh, glancing at the 6’2 man you are head over heels in love with.

As your appointment finishes, you wipe your stomach clean with the tissues provided, and pull your shirt down. The sonographer hands you an envelope with a few photos from the screening, and you already plan on where they will go at home, on your refrigerator, alongside the ones you have received at previous scans. Yifan helps you stand from the bed, and you leave together after paying for the ultrasound.

“Where do you want to go for lunch?” You ask, referring to the plans you two had made last night.

Yifan looks over at you, as he does up his own seatbelt. He seems, flushed, maybe nervous, you are not sure what is going on with him, he does not seem his usual self.

“Can we just go home? I’ll make you lunch, we have plenty of food... I just, I’m not feeling great.” He says, scrambling for words.

“Of course, are you okay?” You ask him.

“I’m fine, baby. I just want to be at home.” He replies.

You do not push him to talk, instead you lean your head back into the seat, and reach across to take his hand. His palm is sweaty, and you wonder whether he has a fever. You did both have your flu shots only a few days ago, so you think that it may be a side effect from that, though you are feeling fine.

Yifan focuses on the road, he is an even more careful driver now that you are pregnant, so protective of you, even if he loves cutting corners, and driving fast, and you keep an eye on him, just to make sure that he is okay. He seems to get more agitated as you get closer to home, and you feel grateful to not live far from the hospital, as Yifan soon pulls into your driveway. As soon as he has parked, he rushes around to open the door for you and help you out of the car.

He holds you around the waist as you walk inside together, his large hand is splayed out across your larger stomach, you feel the baby kick, recognising the warmth, and familiar feeling of Yifan’s hand on you. Once inside, Yifan kneels down to take your shoes off, though his gaze is fixated on your stomach, he really is not his usual self, clumsy with his hands, as if in a trance.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Yifan?” You ask him tentatively.

Instead of responding straight away, he leans forward to kiss your stomach, lingering there momentarily before standing up again.

“Your feet are swollen, baby. Come, let me get you comfortable.” He says, avoiding your question.

Before you can protest, or push him for an answer, he picks you up, just like he did before your appointment, and carries you into your bedroom. He sits you on the bed, and gives you a pointed look, telling you to stay put, as he rushes out of the room, ignoring the confused look on your face as he leaves.

You hear the faucet running in the next room for a couple of minutes, and then quiet, and finally Yifan’s footsteps coming back towards you. You laugh as you watch Yifan walk back into the room, with a bucket full of hot water to soak your feet in. He is careful not to spill it, as he places it on the ground in front of you, and he kneels down to help you balance as you put your feet in one by one.

Yifan leaves the room again, only to return with a glass of water for you, pregnancy has made you so thirsty all the time, and hot, you are always so warm, with all the extra blood running through your body, supporting the growing baby. You sip from the glass, as he kneels down in front of you again, and you watch as he takes one of your feet into his hands, massaging it, hoping to make your pain subside.

God, he treats you like a fucking Princess, you close your eyes and focus on how nice it feels, your boyfriend’s large hands are like magic. He swaps to the other foot, and then uses one hand on each, until you feel that the swelling is finally going down, and you open your eyes again.

Yifan is gazing up at you, his cheeks are red, and he looks flustered. You still worry that he is unwell, as you lean forward to cup his cheek with your hand. The position is uncomfortable for you, with your stomach getting in the way, but you want him to know that you care for him as much as he does for you.

It is only now that you notice why Yifan is acting like this, as your eyes are drawn to his crotch, to the very clear outline of his cock through his jeans, hard, standing at full attention. Yifan notices you staring, and he tries to readjust, not being as inconspicuous as he would like to be, you smirk at him, it is so endearing when he wants you like this.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong now?” You tease him.

“I just... fuck you’re so fucking hot, carrying my fucking baby.” He replies, running his hands up your bare legs.

“Oh, really?” You ask.

“Mhmm,” He replies, moving to kiss up your legs, “Just makes me want to fucking breed you again.”

He bites gently at your flesh, leaving tiny teeth marks on your inner thighs, the sensation sending arousal coursing through your body.

“Would you like that? Daddy fucking you so good, filling your pretty pussy up with his cum? Gonna keep you pregnant forever, I think.” He purrs, now kissing across your tummy.

He lifts your shirt over your stomach, and you raise your arms for him to pull the fabric up over your head. He takes a hand to your breast, fuck they’re sensitive, swollen, already preparing for the baby you are going to be giving birth to in just a few months.

“So fucking sexy, baby, god you’re so fucking sexy.” Yifan growls, reaching behind you to unhook your bra, and you assist by pulling the cotton from you.

Yifan stops momentarily to tear his own shirt over his head, muttering an ‘it’s too hot’, before he leans in to kiss you. His hands explore your body while you run your fingers through his hair, he has one hand splayed out across your stomach, while the other palms your breasts, and then moves down to find position at your core, teasing you through the thin cotton shorts you’re still wearing.

“Let me fuck you, holy shit, please let me fuck you.” He begs, as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible, despite the awkward bump in your way.

“You really want me, huh?” You ask him between kisses, you nibble on his bottom lip, making him gasp, allowing your tongue into his mouth to taste him.

“Please, baby, Daddy needs his fill.” He moans, instinctively grinding into you.

“Hmm... only because you asked so nicely.” You reply, tracing your fingers down his back, settling at the waistband of the denim he is wearing.

He hastily reaches down to unbutton his jeans, furiously pulling at the tight material, tugging it down his thighs. As he does this, you hook your fingers under the elastic of his boxers, begging for him to help you, his desperation has influenced you, and you fucking need him too.

Yifan helps you remove his underwear, leaving him fully naked and you still in your shorts, Yifan then guides you further back on the bed, rested up against the pillows. You know you are not allowed to lay flat on your back, the midwives remind you of this every time you have an appointment at the hospital, it is dangerous for the baby. So you find a position, half laying, half sitting up, comfortable for you both.

“Fuck, I could cum just looking at you.” Yifan sighs, as you lift your hips up so he can pull your shorts and panties down.

You glance down at your body, pretty pink stretch marks adorn your stomach, Yifan leans down to kiss and lick along each and every one of them, just as he takes a hand to your entrance, teasing your growing wet, making you needy, as he slides one finger in.

“Just fuck me already.” You whine, not wanting to wait any longer.

You lift your hand to your mouth and lick your palm, coating it slick, to take your hand to your partner’s cock. You stroke him, transferring the spit in preparation as lube, Yifan’s breathing staggers, as you tighten your grip on him, before letting go as he places his hand on top of yours.

He lines himself up, with your now dripping cunt, and though you have fucked a thousand times, at least, if not more, you are still breath-taken every time at the sheer stretch required to take his size in. Yifan is careful in his movement, positioning himself just right so that he does not push against your stomach, as he thrusts in as deep as he can go.

“Fuck... Look at you taking all of me, god, you’re such a good girl.” He praises you, as he pulls back to thrust into you again.

“Your cock is fucking perfect, Daddy.” You moan, crying out as his cock hits you where you see stars.

He takes a hand to your breast again, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the overload of pleasure has you panting, clenching around his cock, as he continues to pound into you.

“Oh Jesus... fuck.” Yifan moans, and you gaze down to where he is staring, at your breast in his hand, you’re fucking leaking.

He leans down, taking your breast to his mouth, his tongue swipes at the bud, clearing away the droplets that have formed, though you are so aroused now you do not think they are going to stop. Yifan hums into you, fuck, you have never seen him turned on like this, you knew that pregnancy was his... thing... but you had no idea just how much it was so.

His forehead is beaded in sweat, and you can tell how hard he is trying to keep it together, you have not cum yet, although you are close, but you feel like Yifan would beat you to it if he let himself go. Though he is not one to cum first, always simultaneously or after, you know him too well, but you do not want to hurt him, so you focus on the pressure building in you, the way his cock thrusts at just the right angle, the way he grinds into you every time he bottoms out.

“Daddy’s so close, baby. Gonna cum, gonna get you fucking pregnant again, you want that, huh?” Yifan grunts, you can tell now that he will barely last another moment, though you too are dizzyingly close.

“Please Daddy, I need you to fill me, want all of your fucking babies.” You cry, feeling your orgasm as it reaches it’s peak and breaks through.

Your words were more than enough for Yifan, as only seconds later he follows suit, moaning in sync with you as he releases, doing exactly as he promised, filling you to the fucking brim, you are both lost in the moment, you can’t think straight as he fucks his cum deep into you, not stopping until he is running on empty.

“Shit, you’re so good to me, baby.” He praises you as he pulls out, though you are not bare for long, as he replaces his cock with two of his fingers.

He thrusts his fingers deep into you, while teasing your clit with his thumb, god damnnit he is gonna make you cum again, you just know it.

“Can’t let Daddy’s cum go to waste baby, hold it in for me, feels good, right?” He asks you, though you are so sensitive right now you can’t even begin to try and answer him.

After only just beginning to descend from your first orgasm, your second builds in record time, though you expect no less from your incredible partner, he knows you better than you know yourself, fuck, you are close again. Your body writhes under his, legs shaking, breathing laboured as you try to stay focused on the unexplainable pleasure you feel.

“Cum for Daddy, sweetheart. That’s a good girl... just like that.” He guides you.

You are done for, you pull Yifan forward by the neck to kiss you, moaning his own name into his mouth as your body convulses to his touch, and his fingers fuck you through your high perfectly, until you can’t take anymore, and you grab his wrist to stop him.

“Fuck, you’re fucking perfect.” Yifan sighs, kissing you again, before taking his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean.

“I love you.” You smile, grazing his cheek with your fingertips.

“I love you too,” He replies, “Now stay there, I’ll run the bath, and make your lunch, and... what else do you need?”

You chuckle, because of course he is back to his over-protective, caring self as soon as his head is clear, as soon as he has released the pent up desperation he had. You are lucky, so fucking lucky, you look down at your stomach, and then up at the man in front of you, grateful for all that you have. You reach out and take his hand in yours, guiding it to rest on your bare skin, you hold his hand down firmly.

“The baby’s kicking.”

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Hanks lifeless body on his kitchen floor because you failed to save him

Send my muse an anonymous nightmare.

"Hey, Hank!" Connor calls out cheerily, having just returned from walking Sumo. He regularly snuck over to the Lieutenant's house after moving out, taking Sumo on walks or just checking on the man. He figured, once Hank returned from work, they could have a movie night. The old car was parked out front when the duo walked up. Though, it was a little concerning to see it parked crooked, Connor knows Hank has been working a lot lately. He really should take some time off.

Connor froze once he looked up from unclipping Sumo, the dog immediately running into the kitchen to the fallen man. There was a bottle of Black Lamb on the kitchen table, 3/4 empty. The photo they had moved to the mantle, set next to new photos of happy memories, had been pulled down, sitting where the man could see it on the kitchen table. What made his blood run cold was the light reflecting off the gun, smoke still swirling from the barrel.

"Hank!" Connor ran to his side, hoping, praying, it wasn't too late. Those hopes were dashed the second he was at the threshold. The sickly scent of iron hung in the air, and he knew if he were human, he would have lost the contents of his stomach, "H-Hank?" Connor called to him weakly, voice cracking. He didn't need to scan him to know he's gone.

Sumo wasn't so easily convinced, licking at his master's cheek, whimpering when Hank didn't move to pet him, push him away and say how disgusting he is, drooling all over him. Tell him he's a good dog for waking him from another of his drunken stupors.

"Sumo, stop," Connor got out, finally finding the strength to move closer, "He's... H-he's gone." Saying it aloud broke him, collapsing to his knees at Hank's side. The RK doesn't understand. He was doing so well, wasn't he? He had cut down on his drinking, talking about his problems, Connor had even managed to convince Hank to start going to therapy. What had gone wrong? How could he have failed? The one person who needed him most.

"Dad... Please, please wake up," Connor pleaded through his sobs, knowing it wasn't going to happen. He can't do this without him. He wouldn't even be alive without Hank.

Seeing the gun, Connor acted on impulse, picking it up and pointing it to his own head and squeezing the trigger.

*click*

Nothing. He tries again and again. *click* *click* *click*

Connor tosses the gun in anguish. It only ever had one bullet. One shot, but it shattered the lives of everyone who knew Hank.

It's too much for him to take, slamming his head against the tile floor. Sumo is barking at him, biting at his jacket, his arm, trying to get the android to stop. On the third hit, the tile shatters. On the fifth, Connor is out.

....

He awakes screaming on the floor, tangled in his bedsheets. His head hurts, thirium on the corner of the nightstand. None of that matters. Connor is immediately up and running out the door of his apartment. He doesn't even bother with shoes, wearing only his tank top and sweatpants. He runs down the street, turning this way and that, only living a few blocks from Hank's street.

Once he's at Hank's, Connor runs up to the door, realizing he had forgotten his key in his rush, frantically banging on the door and ringing the doorbell. He heard Sumo barking, dredging up memories of his dream. Just as he was about to take off for the kitchen window he knows he can break into, Hank opens the door, gun in hand.

"The fuck is-" He's cut off by Connor disarming him, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle, "Connor?!?"

The RK was shaking, burying his face into the man's neck as he sobbed.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Hank was freaking out, not sure what's going on. The android only shakes his head, continuing to sob. He's been through something similar with him while he was living here, sleep-deprived mind piecing together what happened. He hugs Connor back with a sigh, "Come on, son. Let's sit down and figure this out."

He half walks, half drags Connor inside, shutting the door behind them. Sumo is beside them, wondering why his weird-smelling human was upset. They get to the couch, Hank urging Connor to sit down with him. The android complied, but still refused to let him go. By now, Hank knew better than to try and pry him off or talk, simply holding him until Connor calmed down on his own. Sumo climbed up on the RK's opposite side, lying against him and offering his own form of comfort.

It was a solid 30 minutes before Connor was calm enough to release his death grip. Hank had been dozing off, the adrenaline having left him some time ago.

"I'm sorry, Hank," Connor apologized, still pressed against him, though much looser so he could actually breathe. Hank assuming it was for banging on his door in the middle of the night until he continued, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"Save me? What are you talking about?" Hank grouched, "I'm sober more often than not, you keep pestering me about my diet, and you even got me going to a fucking shrink. You've done enough. You can't fix everything, Connor, but... You've gotten me through a dark time in my life."

Connor pulled away from his shoulder, looking the man in the eye, his own still wet with tears mixed with thirium from the decent gash on his forehead, "Then why would you...?" he couldn't bring himself to say it, more tears welling in his eyes. He doesn't want to lose Hank. There has to be something more.

"Why would I-" it clicked what Connor was trying to say, "Oh, son. Is that what your nightmare was about? I ain't about to off myself. You don't have to worry about that." He hugged Connor tighter, "I still have my bad times, but they're not as bad as they used to be. I'm retired from that game. 'Sides, I can't leave you without teaching you about culture. Real culture. Not what people nowadays are calling it." Hank have him a final squeeze before releasing him, "Now, let's get that wrapped up," he gestured to his forehead, "then we can find a movie to watch."

"It's late, Hank. Shouldn't you get back to bed?" Connor asked in a small voice. He's already taken enough of Hank's time and he needs rest. The Lieutenant was having none of it, standing up to grab a bandage and some blue blood.

"fuck that. I'll sleep when I'm..." He looked at Connor, caught by his said puppy-dog stare, "yeah, I'll get some sleep later. It's my day off, I'll spend it how I like. Just, get comfortable. No point in runnin' off. Didn't even bother with shoes." Hank murmured the last part as he walked away. He loves the kid, but he might be next in line to see the shrink or he'll be giving Hank a heart attack one of these days.