#awake fanfic

[clayberesford-anakinskywalkerfan]

I found this on Facebook. I love Anakin's story and journey. So tragic and beautiful at the same time 💔

My favorite Anakin moments would be between The Clone Wars/Ahsoka and Revenge of the Sith.

He is so Clay Beresford in Ahsoka with those baby curls and that lil hot but innocent rich boy look hehe!! 😍❤️

[chaosandmarigolds]

Reader, after preforming CPR on Simon: don’t worry I didn’t take off your mask

Simon, groggy: …?

Reader, panicking: well ya know I thought it was like a Star Wars thing where you can’t take off that one guys mask because his-his honor and he would be disowned and I didn’t want you to be disowned and I didn’t wanna-so I just lifted it up a lil bit

Simon:

Reader: your honor is intact

[thevoidstaredback]

Danny smiled from his place on the clocktower roof. He'd been in Gotham for a while now, two years to the day exactly, but he'd never get tired of the view. Sure, he hated not being able to see the stars at night, but there were worse things. He did make sure to leave the city every night to see them, though.

He liked being up high. It reminded him of, not simpler times, but times when he wasn't as alone. Jazz had made her way to Harvard, Tucker was MIT, and Sam was at Pomona. Danny was nowhere.

They say after he turned fourteen, he died. It, to say the least, wasn't a pleasant or painless death, though it didn't hurt past the initial shock and revival. When he was sixteen, he realized he wasn't aging. Sure, Danny Fenton aged until he was sixteen, but Danny Phantom stopped at fourteen. Good for keeping a secret identity, but horrible for wanting to half live normally.

The day after he turned eighteen, exactly four years after he died, Danny disappeared. He left everything behind and hid out in the one place he'd always said he'd avoid. It was the one place no one would look for him. The one place where he was just another face in the crowd.

Gotham City allowed Danny the anonymity that normally came with death. Instead of just another headstone in the graveyard or a body in the harbor, though, he was just another kid on the streets in a busted hoodie and jeans. No one looked twice and no one asked questions.

In the two years he's spent on the streets of Gotham, he's learned a lot. Survival was something all humans are born with, but growing up with neglectful parents amplified that instinct. Dying and becoming an unwilling hero honed those instincts. Living in Gotham gave him a chance to learn more.

Learning the lay of the land was another thing he learned very quickly. Batman is over all of Gotham except for Crime Alley. That's Red Hood's haunt. Gotham Proper was split into blurry lines and shared between Batman and Robin, Red Robin, Orphan, and Spoiler. Nightwing is over Gotham's sister city, Bludhaven. Signal is the only day shift, so he had the most ground to cover in the least amount of time.

Of course, the Rouge's all had their own territories drawn with hard, barely flexible, lines. Black Mask was really the only one to breach those lines by trying to take Crime Alley, but Red Hood had been keeping him in check.

Learning the rules for each territory and how to interact with each person, Rouge or Vigilante, took time, but he managed. His own experiences had probably helped with that.

The next thing Danny had mapped out was where the neutral stations were. Every territory had them. They were places no one attacked because the important ones have standards. In Crime Alley, it's The Club. In Penguin's area, it's the Iceberg Lounge. Ivy marked off Robinson Park. Etcetera. The Joker is really the only major Rouge without a neutral mark on his map, but that's because he's more of an asshole than the rest. An asshole with standards, but an asshole nonetheless.

Very few of those neutral areas were available to spend the night in. Even fewer we're hiring. So, the homeless population of Gotham City stuck to the streets and back alleys.

However, there were two places Danny knew he could go where he'd be safe from scrutiny if someone looked too close at him. The Club in Crime Alley where all the working girls and boys checked in and reported any Bad Johns or Bad Janes, and The Iceberg Lounge in the richer parts of Gotham.

The clocktower was where Danny liked to spend his nights when the streets were too loud and the lights too bright and the fights too close for comfort. Oracle, who was Batman's eye in the sky and ear to the ground, worked from the clocktower, but he made sure to avoid her. It wasn't easy with what's basically super hearing that he can't turn off, but he found a spot near the very top where he could block out all Bat Business. Plausible deniability and all that.

Danny misses the stars. He misses being able to peek his head out of his bedroom window and name of each constellation he could see. He can't do that in Gotham because of the light pollution that clung to the sky like black mold. It was part of the reason he'd sworn to never go to Gotham.

There are Shades in Gotham. Shadows of people who have died but aren't quite ready to move on. He helps them as best he can, but there's so many that he sometimes feels like he's cutting off a Hydra's head. He gets to see results, though. Some days the parks are more colourful, the clouds have drifted enough to let natural sunlight through, and the graveyards are buzzing with thankful energy.

Danny forwent the thought of trying to get a job a while ago. As far as the world is concerned, Danny Fenton is missing, likely dead. Being dead, in case it wasn't well known, is a legal barrier. Sure, most jobs in Gotham didn't do background checks, but Danny didn't really want to join the Goonion. He's just fine living on the streets.

Ectoplasm is scarce compared to Amity Park, but that's to be expected. Besides, the miasma crushing the city like a weighted blanket was enough to sustain his basic abilities. Food was a bit harder to come by, but, like sleep, he could survive longer without it than a living being can. If anyone were to ever ask - though the likelihood of anyone even finding out - how he was alive, his answer was "Photosynthesis, but for ghosts."

Danny liked being just Danny. No name, no responsibilities outside of keeping himself alive.

Danny Fenton, the loser nerd who fell to the bottom of all his classes, who's obsessed with space and everything in it, who could tell you exactly how long it would take to get from Earth to Betelgeuse and back, is dead. He died the day after he turned fourteen.

Danny Phantom, the hatefully loved vigilante who appeared with the throngs of ghosts, who grew more powerful with every fight, who won more fights than he thought he could because there was no other option, is gone. He disappeared after exactly four years.

Danny just exists. He lives on the streets of Gotham City, staying away from trouble because he learned how to recognize it as soon as he could walk. He loves space and finds every opportunity he can to get out and watch the stars and moon and planets. He likes heights because being up that high reminds him of when he was living and not just surviving. Was there really a difference anymore? He hangs out in graveyards and the docks because the dead are so much more tolerable than the living.

Danny liked being just Danny because Danny doesn't have the world of Infinite Realms and Possabilities on his shoulder.

Danny likes to be able to just be for once.

Storyboard Part 2

[1000dactyls]

my huge gripe w modern httyd aus is that it’s always set in the suburban midwest in podunk nothing town without taking it to its natural conclusion. As if berk would not be a steel mill town on the rust belt with the gas prices jacked sky high for tourists driving through the middle of nowhere. As if the barbaric archipelago would be the suburbs of a big city rather than rural towns in the Deep South. as if hiccup would not somehow end up hiking in the appalachias or turn up half dead after missing for 6months in the oregon wilderness. Cowards. Fools. if you’re setting it in america then you should take it to its natural conclusion 🗣️🗣️🗣️

[flamingpudding]

I am keeping him B

A/N: Stress late night writing, while I am supposed to sleep cause I still got work tomorrow but screw my life...

It all started with the disappearance of Box Ghost, followed by Spectra. Back then, Danny didn't realize what was happening, and he still blamed himself for that. What a fine bridge of balance he was....

The next to disappear had been Elli and Danny had mobilize whatever he could to organize a search party when he lost contact. After Elli, Ember was next. Maybe by then Danny should be realized.

Dan was the next in line of disappearances. Vlad was the one making Danny aware of it. Everything Danny had mobilized in his search for Elli was extended to find Dan now, too.

Shortly after Dan, Vlad also disappeared from the face of earth. If he hadn't already be worried Danny would have been now. His events tripled, sleepless nights followed, days in which Jazz practically had to force him to sleep.

One by one all the Ghosts Danny knew disappeared. Maybe he would have realized it sooner if he had paid more attention to certain things, to the news to politics, to anything really. Maybe then Danny would be noticed the appearance of Dalv.Co and his parents invention on the black market. The sudden spike in Meta traficing following or the sudden interest in Ecto-entities.

But he hadn't...

...and that probably what was what costed him too.

Because, one day, he woke up in a dark cell, still in his Phantom transformation but with a collar around his neck. It zapped him any time he touched it or tried to let go of his ghost form. It was like a reverse of the stupid taser Vlad had. There were no mirrors or anything he could use to see himself with, but he had a feeling that collar used Fenton tech. He also realized that he was in a more eldrich kind of transformation. His hands that usually were in white gloves when in phantom form were clawed and inky black with sparks that reminded Danny of the night sky's above Amity Park. He couldn't tell if he looked anything like himself or not, but judging by his hands, probably not.

That day, when Danny woke up in that cell, he realized the reason behind the disappearances of his family and ghost rogues. Just like there was a spike in Meta trafficking, the growing interest had also developed into Ecto-Entity trafficking and worse was, they weren't even protected by law. The Anti-Ecto Acts are making it not even a real or all too big of a crime.

Months passed, and Danny learned to shut his mouth and emotions out. He thought he was even in a state disassociation, Jazz would have been proud of him for his self diagnosis, maybe. With the passing days, Danny stopped remembering who owned him and who he was forced to fight. Sometimes, his eyes came to live when he met one of his old friends in the battle rings. Tho their fights were no longer a form or bonding, it still felt nice to sometimes feel the heat of Ember's flames, the sting of Skulkers blasters or even see a box get thrown at him.

Of course, he had tried to escape or save at least one of the others before, but whoever modified his parents' inventions knew what they were doing. All his attempts were met with failure.

But then the day everything changed came. Danny didn't know how long it had been, all he knew was that a stupid clown was his current holder. The guy spouted some nonsense or wanting to see how a bat, of all animals held himself against one of the strongest ecto-entiies. Danny really wanted to refuse, yell at that fruitloop of a clown and be done with the World.

But what he didn't expect to happen that day was the shock of electricity, the ricochet of a bullet, the crack of metal... and the collar falling of his neck.

Suddenly, Danny no longer felt like he was trapped in his own body, like he was just an onlooker, but at the same time, he had never felt this tired before. He stumbled forward his body losing whatever momentum he had before. It was a single arm that saved him from faceplanting.

"Fuck! That thing was actually a kid!"

"What?!"

"I am going to fucking murder the clown."

Danny blinked slowly as he felt his awareness sliding from him, yet he still couldn't help muttering at least something before the world would go dark. "Get in line, I really hate clowns, and he is the nightmare realm fodder."

Danny felt the arm holding him shaking, and he really wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but right before he did, in fact, black out from pure exhaustion, he heard one last thing. "I don't give a fuck, B. I like this kid so I am keeping him."

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hiii

so idk if your requests are open but could you please write some hcs about clayton Beresford as a husband and dad

Thank youuu ❤️

☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

HUSBAND/DAD!CLAY HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: of course my requests are open! I just LOVE seeing notification from my inbox, so thank you very much <3 hope you like it

MARRIAGE

Clayton Beresford who after two delightful years of your relationship proposed to you. He took you to the fancy restaurant, and since it was something you did often, you hadn't have any suspicious. But have you thought about marrying him? Of course, yet, you wanted to give him time. You knew how his earlier marriage ended so it'd be out of your character to even suggest him taking your relationship to another level. But the ring you got was out of your wildest dreams - 4 carat round cut diamond ring that seemed to shine more than every star in the sky

Clayton Beresford who got even more all-about-you after wedding. Even more love making with no care in the world, long honeymoon, even more spent time together just more everything

Clayton Beresford who, despite his demanding job, always makes time for you. He’s the type of husband who will surprise you with small gestures; like leaving sweet notes in your purse or sending you flowers (mostly to your workplace) randomly just to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

Clayton Beresford who loves planning spontaneous weekend trips to your favorite places. Whether it’s a cozy cabin in the mountains or a luxury hotel in the city, Clayton enjoys these escapes to focus solely on you without any distractions.

Clayton Beresford who's big on surprises. He might book a last-minute trip to Paris (or any place on earth), arrange for a private dinner on the rooftop of the restaurant's building or just in the place you'd not be able to pay by yourself. Or buy you that piece of jewelry you casually mentioned months ago.

Clayton Beresford who has a strong protective instinct. He always ensures you’re safe, and anyone who might pose a threat to you or your happiness would have to face his wrath.

Clayton Beresford who depended on you doing the grocery shopping since he had never done that before (however after a few times he gained knowledge);

Clay glanced away for just a second, but when he looked back, you were gone. His brow furrowed as he scanned the immediate area, stepping away from the cart to see if you had wandered behind another display. But there was no sign of you.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in as he quickened his pace, determined not to lose you. Not in this place.

He began weaving through the aisles, his eyes darting around in search of you, listening intently for any sound that might be your voice. But the supermarket was huge, and the weekend crowd made it even more overwhelming.

With a groan of annoyance, Clay pressed on, moving faster now, his heart racing a little at the thought of losing you in this sea of people. Then, suddenly, his eyes caught a glimpse of you between rushing people. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest as he turned sharply toward the sound.

You were standing by the dairy section, casually chatting on the phone as you picked up items. Relief washed over him, and he silently thanked whatever forces led him to find you.

Like a lost puppy or a child who had been separated from their parent, he hurried over to you, his earlier frustration melting into a quiet sense of relief.

Reaching for a carton of milk, you sensed someone close behind you. Turning around, you found Clay standing there, his expression a mix of worry and boyish vulnerability that made you smile. It was as if he had been a little kid lost in a big mall again.

You handed him the shopping list, tapping the line where it said 'bananas' with a knowing look.

Clay accepted the list with a determined nod. He was a grown man—he could handle picking up some bananas.

But when he reached the produce section, his confidence wavered as he stared at the six different types of bananas on display, his frown deepening in confusion.

It was supposed to be a simple task: grab the bananas and return to you. Yet here he was, staring at the display like they were some exotic species he had never encountered.

He didn't recognize any of the types, and he had no clue which one you wanted. So, with a loosing sigh, he carefully picked a bunch of yellow bananas, added some mini ones, and then tossed in a few green ones for good measure. Feeling a bit more confident, he placed them all in the cart and made his way back to you. A small, proud smirk forming on his lips as he approached.

“I got them,” he announced, a hint of pride in his voice as if he had just completed a great feat.

You glanced down at the cart, noticing the remarkable assortment. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked back at him. "Baby, but... they're all different kinds."

His smirk faded slightly as a flush of embarrassment crept up his neck. He glanced at the cart, then back at you “I know,” he admitted, his voice soft and a bit self-conscious. “I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just… grabbed a few to be safe.”

Your heart melted at his effort, and you stood on your toes to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "C'mon, we'll figure out these bananas together."

His cheeks flushed a deeper red at your affectionate gesture, and he looked down at you with warm, loving eyes, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, feeling content as he started pushing the cart again, this time with you walking beside him.

PREGNANCY

Clayton Beresford who was shocked yet thrilled when he found out you're pregnant. He was always gentle with you but from that day he got on another level of doing everything in his power to make sure you're safe, happy and comfortable

Clayton Beresford who seemed to be hypnotized by your changing body (so obviously loved to have his hands on it, and you loved when he did)

Clayton Beresford who had to deal with your neediness for attention/affection;

"Baby, I'm already late. You know I can't stay longer," he sighs, slipping on his black cloak, the fabric rustling as he moves with familiar urgency.

"Are you sure you can't stay just a little longer?" you pout, leaning against the doorframe of your mudroom

He chuckles softly and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest "Baby, I'd love nothing more than to stay," he murmurs "But…" he sighs again, the weight of responsibility heavy in his voice, "you know I can't be late twice in a row."

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his muscles firm against your softer frame. The warmth of his embrace makes you want to hold onto him just a little longer.

"But I thought you'd make love to me all morning," you tease, your voice soft and playful "and then spoil me with a big breakfast."

His eyes softened after his large hands roam over to cup your pregnant belly, his fingers gently tracing over the curve "That was the original plan," his lips formed into a knowing smirk. His hands linger on your body, as if memorizing every inch before he has to let go. "But you know I've got to go to work…"

"But what if the baby comes out while you're not here?" you pout, feeling the warmth of his knuckles as they gently trace over your swollen belly.

He chuckles softly at your worry, his lips curling into a reassuring smile. He steps back slightly, his hands slipping from your waist to admire the sight of your pregnant form. "Babe, we've talked about this. The baby's not coming today," he says with a confident grin, glancing down at your round belly before meeting your concerned gaze.

"Yeah... right," you mumble, still not entirely convinced.

He can't help but smirk at how endearingly moody you are, especially when you pout like that. With a gentle touch, he wraps his fingers around your chin, tilting your face up so you're looking directly into his smiling eyes. "Don't give me that look," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth as he leans in closer, his breath brushing against your lips.

"I'm gonna miss you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as the reality of his departure sinks in.

His gaze locks onto your big, sparkling eyes as he gently cups your cheeks. "I'm going to miss you too, baby. But I have to go to work," he murmurs with a tender smile, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips once more.

"I love you, you know," your voice lingering, trying to stretch out the moment just a little longer.

His smile deepens, touched by your efforts to keep him close, but he's all too aware of the ticking clock. "I love you too, more than anything. But if I don't leave now, I'll be late for a meeting with the board... and I can't afford to do that again," his tone a mix of regret and urgency as he gives you a sympathetic look, hoping you understand.

"But you're their boss," you protest softly, a pout forming on your lips.

He sighs, knowing that leaving without giving you something special will likely leave you moody for the rest of the day. Even though he’s pressed for time, he quickly pivots. "How about I give you a kiss for the road?" he suggests, a playful glint in his eyes as he shifts the mood.

"Okay," you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He smiles back, his hand finding its way to your cheek once more, tenderly cradling your face. He pauses, taking a moment to get lost in your sparkling blue eyes, savoring the connection before slowly closing his own and leaning in. His lips meet yours in a slow, loving kiss

Clayton Beresford who makes sure to lift up your pregnancy mood;

His heart sank at the sight of your tear-streaked face. Instantly, worry fills his eyes and he kneels beside you, his voice soft and full of concern. "Baby, what’s wrong?" He gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I feel so huge..." you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

"Baby, you know I love every part of you. Nothing could ever change that," he says tenderly, his words full of sincerity.

But your insecurities linger, and you turn to him, searching his face. "So you think I’m huge?" you ask, misinterpreting his silence as agreement.

He sighs again, feeling a pang of guilt at how vulnerable you are right now. Quickly, he tries to soothe your worries before they spiral. "No, no, love..." he insists, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the traces of your tears. "You’re not huge, you’re beautiful."

You glance down at your growing belly, frustration evident in your voice. "I barely fit into my pants."

He smiles softly, his gaze never leaving yours, understanding the deep-seated concerns you have about your changing body. "I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "But that’s just because of the incredible little life you’re carrying."

"You look absolutely radiant when you’re pregnant," he adds, his words filled with admiration, careful not to say anything that might upset you further.

"Yeah?" you sniffle, your voice small and uncertain.

He nods slowly, his eyes locked onto yours, full of love and reassurance. "Yeah, baby," he repeats softly. "You’re glowing, and you’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to have you, pregnant or not."

"But what if after I push the baby out, I still look pregnant? And... and I have all these marks, and my body doesn’t go back to the way it was? And you'll leave me?"

His heart aches as he listens to your fears, unable to bear hearing you doubt the body he cherishes so deeply. "No, no, no, shhh, baby, no..." he murmurs urgently, his voice soothing as he tries to calm your spiraling thoughts. "I would never, ever leave you for that. My love for you knows no limits, nothing could change that."

His hands continue to tenderly stroke your face, his touch gentle and reassuring as he speaks. "I love you so much, sweetheart. The marks on your body from carrying our beautiful child—they'll only make me love you and your body even more."

"Yeah?" you sniffle, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

his eyes filled with admiration and love as he nods "Yeah, baby. Because those marks are proof of your incredible strength, of the life you’ve nurtured for nine months.. and only an absolute goddess could manage that"

Clayton Beresford who every day remaided you how beautiful you are, what a treasure you are in his life that nothing could replace

Clayton Beresford who got more cuddly with you;

"Look at that… he’s a little boxer" his lips curved up as he felt the baby’s tiny movements beneath his fingertips. His voice was filled with awe, and there was a boyish excitement in his eyes that made you smile.

"He?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you glanced up from your book. "How do you know it’s a boy?"

He shrugged, but the cheeky grin that spread across his features betrayed the certainty in his heart. He leaned closer, letting his chin rest on your bump. His touch was gentle, almost tingly at times while his long fingers made sure to memorize the path over your swollen skin

"Father’s instincts," he whispered

"Oh? Didn’t know you had those," you chuckled, your fingers threading through his tousled curls. There was something endearing about how intensely focused he was on your belly - his brow furrowed in concentration as he searched for more signs of the baby’s movements.

Clay still kept his, this time less wider, smile over his lips. He seemed to calm down under not only your touch but the feeling of your belly with his child right in his reach and right before his eyes. He shifted slightly, pressing his lips gently against your tummy. His lips lingered for a little longer, his expression changing to more surprised;

"Hush," he murmured softly, his hand stilling when he found the spot where the baby seemed to be resting. "I can sense him…"

Yet, the baby had quieted, and clay's lips formed into a pout. The frustration knitting his brows before he nuzzled to your belly "Can’t you encourage him to kick or something? I want to know that he’s alive…" he mumbled, his voice laced with a mix of concern and childish impatience (that you rarely saw before)

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnestness. "Clay, how am I supposed to encourage him? Maybe he’s sleeping."

He groaned softly, looking up at you with those soulful eyes, making it impossible not to find him utterly endearing. He looked like a grumpy child who hadn’t received the attention he thought he deserved and it was both cute and hilarious

"Well, I don’t know," he muttered, his hand still drawing small circles on your belly. "Talk to him? Tell him how cool I am… maybe he’ll be excited then and want to say hi."

You rolled your eyes playfully, still stroking his curls. "Baby, don’t be ridiculous… he's probably sleeping."

He huffed in response, still pouting but clearly knowing you were right. The baby was just asleep, and there was nothing he could do but wait. Still, the idea of his child not acknowledging his presence seemed to tug at something deep within him.

"I just want him to know that I’m here too," he mumbled

You smiled down at him, your voice soothing as you reassured him. "I bet he does, clay."

"Just imagine how cute he’s gonna be," clay mused, his voice softening as he let himself drift into the fantasy of fatherhood. "A baby version of me, running around, being a menace to everyone…"

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What if it’s a girl?"

His hand paused for a moment, the weight of the thought catching him off guard. For a few seconds, his expression was blank as he processed the idea of having a daughter. Then, slowly, his usual cocky grin reappeared, but with a touch of tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

"A baby girl," he echoed, as if trying out the words. "She could get your looks, though. I wouldn’t mind that. The second most beautiful girl in the world… and daddy’s little princess."

Just then, he felt a light flutter beneath his palm. His eyes widened in surprise, lighting up like a child on Christmas morning, the pout completely erased by a wide grin "There you are…"

The baby seemed to respond to his voice, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his father’s presence. He continued to rub gently over your belly, his touch loving and protective, showering the area with soft kisses.

"Already responding to me," he whispered, a wave of satisfaction washing over him as he felt the tiny movements beneath his hands. "Smart baby…"

clayton continued to soothe your belly, his hands and lips moving in a calming rhythm until the baby settled back into stillness. Even as the baby quieted, he wasn’t ready to let go. He lingered, enjoying the feeling of being close to both of you, his heart full and content.

"Guess he’s asleep again…" he said softly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Or maybe he’s just tired of you," you teased lightly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.

His eyes widened in mock offense, his pout returning as he looked up at you, clearly not appreciating the joke. "Very funny," he grumbled, his frown deepening. "I am the most interesting person this baby will ever meet—"

But despite his grumbling, you could see the love and excitement in his eyes, the way he couldn’t wait to meet the little life growing inside you. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be the best father this baby could ever ask for.

Clayton Beresford who spoiled you way more during your pregnancy. More presents without occasion, more affection, more cuddles, just more everything there was to give

Clayton Beresford who was there on most of your doctor appointments. If he had a busy schedule, which happened often, he then couldn't appear (but you didn't mind, since it was just doctor appointment to check on your and the child's health, nothing more so much important for him to be there everytime)

Clayton Beresford who was obsessed with making love to you during your pregnancy;

"youre-youre so big--" you mewl underneath him

"I am, aren't I?" he panted, his hands gripping your plump hips tightly. "And you're so fucking tight, sweetheart." His words spurred him on, pushing deeper inside you to hit that sweet spot over and over again.

your eyes barely could keep themselves open from the sensation of having him again in your hole. Who would have known that your pregnancy hormones would make you so horny you would cry to Clayton about it. And him, being such a generous gentleman who loved his wife with all his being, how could just leave you like that? When you sobbed, begged for his touch

"Don't close your eyes," he commanded softly "Open them. Let me see the look on your face when I'm inside you."

your eyes reluctantly opened, at least they lingered between half opened and half closed. A moan rumbled through your throat as you took in the sight of his muscles that ripped whenever his hold grew too much

"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear you." Clayton's breath hitched as he felt her body tremble beneath him. The way you moaned and your completely swollen breasts jingled with each thrust was driving him wild. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned you, picking up the pace even more.

PARENTHOOD

Clayton Beresford who was there for you for the whole childbirth. Encouraging you, giving you support, etc. He'd insist you'd hold the baby first, not him. And before he'd even hold the newborn, he'd make sure you're all safe and everything's okay;

After making sure you held the newborn first and you were all okay, he had time to take the baby close to his chest, his large, strong arms cradling the fragile newborn bundle with a tenderness that belied his powerful frame. The baby’s skin was a delicate shade of pink, still wrinkled from the birth, and Clay couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of emotion as he gazed down at the tiny life nestled against him. The baby was so small, so impossibly vulnerable, and it made something deep within him tremble and break.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he gently stroked the baby’s cheek with a trembling hand. His touch was feather-light, his fingertips barely brushing the baby’s soft, downy skin and his hand looked enormous in comparison to the baby’s minuscule features.

“He’s so small…” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His throat tightened as he tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Are you crying?” you asked softly, a tired smile playing on your lips as you rested after the long and exhausting delivery

He glanced up at you and he felt a single tear escape and trail down his cheek “…No—yes… maybe…” he admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He quickly wiped the tear away with the back of his hand, but it was clear that his composure was unraveling. He returned his gaze to the baby in his arms, his expression softening as he ran a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny hand, marveling at how delicate and perfect it was.

When the newborn's hand wrapped around clay's finger, he felt like his new heart might explode from overwhelming feeling. It was so cute, the baby’s grip firm and warm

“He’s holding my finger…” he murmured, his voice filled with pure, unfiltered awe

The baby continued to cling to his finger, his tiny hand gripping the large digit with a determination that was both heartwarming and humbling. Clay smiled through tears and a mixture of pride and amazement shined in his eyes as he gently caressed the baby’s hand, utterly mesmerized by the strength in such a small being.

“Such a tight grip… I’ve already created a little warrior,” he mused with a soft chuckle, his voice laced with pride. He looked down at his son, his heart brimming with a love so profound it was almost overwhelming. “You’re going to be strong, just like your momma” he added, his tone filled with admiration.

“…You have your momma’s eyes, you know?” he whispered, his voice barely audible as a fresh wave of emotion washed over him. There was a hint of pride in his voice, but also something deeper, something reverent. The sight of those eyes, so familiar and yet so new, made him feel as though he was looking at a piece of you—a part of the woman he loved more than anything in the galaxy.

As if sensing the weight of the moment, the baby cooed softly, his tiny body wriggling uncomfortably against the confines of the blanket. You watched the first interaction between your husband and your child and it was the most endearing thing you experience. Delivery was hard, damn it hurt like hell, as if devil himself teared your insides but as soon as the baby was out, all the pain was forgotten

“You don’t like that, huh?” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he gently traced soothing circles over the baby’s cheek “I don’t blame you… I’d hate being swaddled too.”

Clayton Beresford who is the kind of dad who’s always one step ahead when it comes to the safety and well-being of your children. He’s vigilant about who they spend time with and ensures they grow up in the safest environment possible.

Clayton Beresford who, despite his often serious demeanor, has a major soft spot when it comes to his children. He’s not afraid to get down on the floor and play with them, and he’ll often indulge them in things other might not—like staying up a bit past bedtime for just one more story.

Clayton Beresford who enjoys spoiling his kids, whether it’s with the latest toys, gadgets, or extravagant birthday parties. However, he’s careful to balance this with teaching them the importance of gratitude and not taking things for granted.

Clayton Beresford who, if you have a daughter, is wrapped around her little finger. He’s the type of dad who will attend tea parties, help with ballet practice, and learn how to braid hair just to make her happy;

"Hold on, baby, I'm almost finished," he murmured, his voice a soft yet deep rumble as he focused on working his fingers through the strands of your daughter's hair.

"Maybe we should just ask Mommy," she whispered, her small voice carrying a hint of doubt.

"No, no," he shook his head gently, a determined glint in his eye. "We don’t need Mommy for a braid. Daddy can do it just fine."

Clay's fingers moved clumsily but with care, tugging her hair a bit too tightly at times. His brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully looped the strands together.

"But Mommy always likes to help," she insisted, her tone hopeful.

"Daddy likes to help too," he replied, his voice tender but resolute, wanting to prove himself to his little girl.

He paused for a moment, examining his work with a critical eye. The braid was far from perfect—slightly uneven and a little messy, held together by a hairband that seemed to be doing more of the work than the braid itself. But as he looked at it, a small, proud smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"See? Not so bad, huh?"

Clayton Beresford who is big on teaching his children responsibility from a young age.

Clayton Beresford who made sure to pay attention to your kids after he came back from work. Even if he was extremely tired, he'd rather fall asleep with your baby boy in his arms than leaving you alone to deal with the children

Clayton Beresford who found you as his inspiration. You, with kids most of the time, still having energy to take care of him and the house. So, as soon as he changed his clothes after work, he replaced you in duties so you'd have your alone time.

Clayton Beresford who, if you had a son, played all the games the boy wanted. Like toys where the boy came up with some plot, plastic cars, playgrounds outside;

Clay sat on the floor, carefully stacking blocks into a tall tower while his son sat comfortably on his lap, his tiny hands occasionally reaching out to help—or hinder.

"What do you want to eat?" you asked softly from the kitchen doorway, watching the two with a fond smile.

Clay glanced up at you, a playful gleam in his eye. "You?" he teased, genuinely curious about your preference.

But before he could say more, the boy clumsily knocked over the tower with an excited shove, sending the blocks tumbling in all directions.

“Hey! You just destroyed Daddy’s masterpiece,” Clay said in mock offense, though his voice carried a warm, playful tone. He looked down at him, who was dissolving into giggles, his face scrunched up in pure joy.

"Well, I was thinking pasta... I'm really craving it," you said, your giggles mingling with theirs.

Clay's heart swelled as he watched you enjoy the moment just as much as he was. Turning back to the toddler, he gently poked his son’s side, earning more bubbly laughter from the little boy. “We don’t normally allow such behavior in the tower-building world,” he joked, his tone still light before turning his gaze to you "But pasta sounds good tho.."

With a grin, Clay stood up from the carpeted floor, scooping the boy up by his armpits and swinging him side to side, much to the toddler’s delight. "C'mon, you little silly guy, let's go help Mommy with dinner,"

Clayton Beresford who, no matter what interests or hobbies your kids have, is fully supportive. He’ll invest in lessons, equipment, or anything else they need to pursue their passions, always encouraging them to follow their dreams.

Clayton Beresford who, no matter how busy his life gets, always prioritizes family. He ensures that you and the kids know that you’re his number one priority, making time for family dinners, vacations, and just spending quality time together.

Clayton Beresford who propritazed your time together. His kids were important but you were more important. So, regularly he hired a babysitter (a trusted one), and took you out on dates (or on a vacation but then your parents took care of the children) so you could focus on each other and on the bond you share without screaming kids

Clayton Beresford ho didn't mind making you pregnant again (if you even wanted to be pregnant again);

"Fill this beautiful cunt with my seed once more?" He growled, plunging back into you with a single powerful thrust that made you both cry out in pleasure "you want that love? Be pregnant again?"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[space--daemon]

fifth-absorbs-the-ninth!au from abigail's perspective as she slowly realises that a) the ninth is being run by half a dozen pensioners and a traumatised preteen; b) the only other preteen on the planet is apparently both their indentured servant (bad) and the first preteen's emotional support chew toy (bad??); c) the cavalier primary is a great poet and a terrible cavalier (sidenote: abigail would fucking LOVE ortus did you sEE her husband??!?!); d) this place is haunted as FUCK including by a vengeful milf; and e) these children need a parent ASAP

cut to abi and magnus trying to surreptitiously adopt the two most feral children they've ever seen without spooking them and also ortus

[finchjpeg]

sorry to be moominposting but it's kind of funny how the fact that snufkin has to leave every year is made out to be the great tragedy of their existence when actually it's literally perfect that he has to leave in the same season moomin literally hibernates. bro even if he stays ur gonna be snoring

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 20

part 1, prev part

Wayne’s not so sure how he can do this anymore. The bills are piling on themselves and it’s getting to the point where it’s challenging Everest. It was stupid to check the cost of his stay at the motel. It was stupid of him to be driving his car this much when he can just walk to the hospital each day. It’s only a little way down the road. It could have kept him from filling up his gas tank for another week.

It was stupid for him to do a lot of things, but here he is. Sitting in front of his notebook and splitting his paychecks up into pieces. Taking more out than he should to pay off the motel a little so the bill goes down. Knowing that he can always have a payment plan with the hospital. Take a loan out or something.

All because a house he’d always dreamed of moving into opened up. All because he, stupidly, wondered if he could make just enough to afford the down payment. The mortgage. And he probably could of, if he had somewhere to couch hop instead of paying for this room. If he asked for just a little bit of help. He could have stretched it just thin enough.

There were grants he could have applied to. People willing to donate money to those in need after the earthquake. Anything to give himself a raft to float on. But Wayne’s always been stubborn enough to try and build one on his own. Know he’s drowning because of it.

He does the thing he always did when needing to forget about the world. Burn through a few cigarettes and wish they were cans of beer. Maybe something a little stronger. Question the viability of his vices and his reliance on them to forget. All while trying to remember the point of all of this to begin with.

When the last one in the pack hits the stub, he crushes it into the ash tray. Trying to hold back the damn from breaking. To keep his tears where they need to stay. Inside with his fears. Even if he’s alone, in a room he’s struggling to afford. Even if he could really, truly break in the comfort of solitude.

And if he did, no one needed to know.

All he wanted was a home for Eddie to walk into after the hospital. A room that looked like his back in the trailer with band posters and books pooling of the shelves. Random little figurines and Knick knacks that were so priceless with meaning, but worthless other wise. The acoustic that Wayne saved up to buy, and the electric that Eddie took up dealing just to be able to think about affording.

All he wanted was to be a good father to his kid. To provide the most basic necessity. A safe home with food on the table. A space where Eddie could escape his problems and just be himself. Wayne couldn’t even provide that right now.

His boy was struggling to find himself again, while Wayne’s struggling to stand on two solid feet. He needed the home just as much as he wanted to provide it.

The next day, Wayne pulls himself to the hospital even though he just wants to sleep. Wants to listen to the pull in his back to just give himself the rest he needs. Knowing that he’s going to haul himself off to work and try to get in some overtime.

But here he is, sitting in the hospital room watching Eddie sleep. Just like he has been. The same damned cycle that doesn’t seem to end. Only improving slightly to provide a false sense of security.

It’s starting to get really predictable.

The seat next to him fills, Steve sitting next to him. “Hey. How’re you doing?”

Wayne doesn’t have the energy to lie or tell the truth. So he just shrugs. Steve huffs in agreement.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

They in silence until Wayne asks a question burning on his tongue. “How does it feel to look at a bill and know you can just pay it? Without having to take away from something else?”

“It doesn’t feel like anything,” Steve responds after pausing to think.

“That must be nice.”

“It was.”

Was. Wayne takes surprise to that. “I wouldn’t expect you to have to worry about stuff like that.”

A pained smile finds its way to Steve’s face. “There’s a lot of things you wouldn’t expect about me.”

Wayne doesn’t say anything, trying to give Steve the space should he decide to share more. A few weeks ago, Wayne would have probably lashed out at him. Thought that he was just looking for pity from someone who had nothing left to give. But he’s been more willing to listen. To see beyond his assumptions.

To let someone, he wouldn’t initially think of, let him know that this isn’t a problem only he deals with.

But instead, Steve goes back to silence. When he does speak again, it’s to pull the conversation back to Wayne. “Is something bothering you? Is that why you asked?”

Wayne grunts. Not believing he’s about to share money problems with the son of one of the richest men in Hawkins. Someone who grew up with every luxury there was. Not thinking about the other side for a second. But here he goes, sharing one of his deepest insecurities to open, listening ears.

“I’m just worrying about the bills starting to pile up, that’s all.”

“I’m sure that really stressful. At least Eddie’s hospital bills should be taken care of, that should give you some relief.”

The rest of the room becomes a stark silence. A rush of confusion coming to Wayne’s head. “What?”

“Has his bill not been taken care of?” Steve looks shocked, and angry.

“Not the last I checked.” Wayne starting to wonder if he’s even checked at all, or just went straight to assuming. With all the chaos, it was hard to keep track of the days. What he did in each of them.

Steve stands, rather abruptly. Swearing under his breath. “I’m going to go make a phone call. I’ll see you later.”

Wayne nods goodbye as Steve leaves the room. Glad he shared what he did, even if he was hesitant to. Now he might have a fighting chance to pay his debts. Now he might have a chance to get a house for his boy to go home to.

For himself to go home to. It’s enough hope to make him want to cry again.

Time passes at some undetermined speed. The minutes on the clock slowly ticking by. Creeping toward the time where Wayne has to leave to be able to get to work on time. Wondering if it’s worth it to head back and try to get some rest before he goes.

But he waits. Patiently waits for something to happen. For Eddie to open his eyes and remember him. Say something in his direction other than swears. Say something that he actually means.

It’s later in the afternoon when Eddie starts to stir. His eyes blink open and stare blankly at the ceiling. Realizing all at once that he’s stuck in this fate. Look so defeated while he tries to do something as simple as raise his head.

It’s like he’s back to being newly born and learning how to do things on his own. Anger and sadness being the most reliable emotions. Rampant frustration knowing that he’s capable of more, but just can’t.

Wayne steps in when Eddie grips the handrails and tries to pull himself into a sitting position. Places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder to stop him while he readjusts the bed. Making sure Eddie’s pillows are still comfortable.

Eddie leans deeply into the bed with a silent thank you in his eyes. Hands falling in his lap, gently twitching and starting to fidget. If Eddie was wearing his rings, he’d be spinning them around his fingers.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a book or anything to read to you,” Wayne says to fill the silence. Not quite knowing what to say. “It’s just me today.”

Eddie stares at Wayne like he’s searching for something. Mixed with a knowing sadness behind it all. He knows what he did, Dustin said as much the other day. He’s starting to remember more and more. New and old pain coming back to him all at once.

It must be exhausting.

“That’s ok,” Eddie breathes. Barely a whisper. It’s the first thing he’s said to Wayne that he actually means.

“You just missed Steve,” Wayne says cautiously. “Still don’t fully understand how the two of you ended up hanging out over the break. Or became what I’m assuming is some level of friends. If what he says is true. But I guess people change right, otherwise he wouldn’t be givin’ you the time of day let alone visiting you this often. Turned out to be a nice kid.”

Wayne’s just talking to get some kind of reaction. Filling the space with nonsense just to be good company. So Eddie doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

“I’m doing ok,” he continues. Making sure that Eddie knows not to worry about him. “You know me, just working at the plant. Tryin’ to get some overtime. Like normal. I’ve been stayin’ at this motel down the road so I can be here if anything happens. Don’t have to drive across town.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Mouth opening as words start to form. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, you did nothing wrong.”

Tears gloss over Eddie’s eyes. The pain releasing itself in the only way it knows how. “I ran. I’m sorry.”

Wayne sits on the edge of his seat, getting as close to the bed as possible. “Listen to me, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You were scared, you ran, we all do. I don’t care what happened in that week. I don’t care what happened yesterday, or the day before. What matters now is that you’re here, and you’re getting better. That’s all that matters to me.”

“But,” Eddie chokes. Breathing in deep. “I yelled at you. I’m sorry.”

“You were scared. You’re in pain. I know you didn’t mean it. It’s ok. I didn’t go through all of your teenage years without getting screamed at, I know how to take it.”

“I want to go home,” Eddie says, voice breaking.

Wayne wants so much to be able to give him that. Wants to lie and tell him it’s waiting for him. But Eddie’s going through enough already, he doesn’t need the lies. The truth might not be the nicest to hear, but it’s better than the feeling of a revealed lie. Wayne didn’t need to add anything to Eddie’s pain.

“Yeah, I do too.”

They sit in silence until Wayne has to go to work. Stands from the chair and wishes his back would just act like twenty years ago again. Says his goodbye to Eddie and makes his way out the door.

“Love you, Wayne,” Eddie says to him before stepping outside of the room.

Wayne turns back to look at Eddie practically falling asleep again. “Love you, too, Eddie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

note: a little earlier this week cause I'm going on vacation. chapter now posted on my ao3 as well.

next part

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

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@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

[clayberesford-anakinskywalkerfan]

@lacebird //Here is a rough draft of a Clay fic that I am working on. The main plot is basically my OC Roselyn falling in love with Clay and she fixes him. Clay has been through so much and deserves a happy life so that is my goal for this story !!😭💔

Chapter 1

It had been a few days since Clay’s heart

transplant and Clay woke up in his bed in a

private room in the hospital after having

another rough night. It had been a long

recovery process so far after his heart

transplant surgery and also coping with the trauma he had gone through.

He still could not believe that his own wife

and his best friend Jack, also being his

surgeon at the time, had betrayed him.

On top of that he was also dealing with the

guilt of his mother Lilith Beresford, willingly

sacrificing herself to save him and donating

her healthy heart to him since they were

the same match.

He wished that he had listened to his

mother and could have prevented all of this

from happening, but he had been too

stubborn to listen and he had to accept his

hard consequences now. 

He had completely lost trust in anyone,

and the only people he trusted now were

the people his mother had sent to look

after him during his recovery,  Dr. Jonathan

Neyer and nurse Elizabeth.

His mother Lilith’s sister, Elizabeth had

been working with Jonathan for so many years.

It had been a long time since Clay had seen

Elizabeth because she and Jonathan had

never worked close to them. It was only

recently that they had moved to New York

because Jonathan’s team had a job lined

up there and also Lilith needed their help as well. 

Just before Lilith passed away, she asked

Elizabeth to watch over him and also keep

an eye on the Capital as well, leaving the business under name too.

Elizabeth was also under a lot of pressure

now because she felt she couldn’t keep up

with being a nurse and also going into the

office during the time Clay had to be

absent. She and Jonathan had been the

only two people Clay trusted completely,

but they knew they had to hire a new nurse

to come in and be Clay’s main nurse and assistant. 

Elizabeth entered the room checking up on Clay looking a bit sad as he was laying there. 

“Good morning Clay, how was your sleep?”

Elizabeth asked sweetly as she sat down

beside him and checked his vitals. 

“Fine I guess,” Clay said sadly.

He had been very quiet and not wanting to

talk very much after finding out the news

about his mother. He was so emotionally

broken about everything so the best thing

he believed he could do for himself was to

try and block everything out of his mind. 

Elizabeth sighed sadly as she understood

his reasonings for being the way he was right now.

She was also grieving the loss of her sister as well, but she tried to stay strong for Clay. 

“That’s good. Remember, I am here if you

need anything okay,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“I know, thanks. I would just like to be alone

right now if you don’t mind though,” Clay

said truthfully, closing his eyes a little.  

“Of course. I’ll be in the next room over, and

only a page away,” Elizabeth said sweetly.

She stepped out of the room, giving him some time alone. 

Tears started running down his cheeks as

he remembered when Dr. Jonathan had

told him about what happened to his

mother. He still couldn’t get over the

heartbreak of his wife betraying him and

now the loss of his mother. Everything was

his fault and he felt so damaged by this. 

In the next office over, Elizabeth was

talking with Dr. Jonathan about the next

steps of Clay’s recovery. She was really

concerned about his trauma and also

leaving the nurse profession in order to

take over Lilith’s role at the company

temporarily. Jonathan was sitting at his

desk looking over an envelope from Lilith

that he was supposed to give to Clay when

he would wake up and be well enough to read.

happened to Clay and being involved in

He and Lilith had been really close friends

so he was also heart broken after

witnessing everything that

completing his surgery. 

“Hi Jonathan. I need to talk to you about

something,” Elizabeth said nervously as

she sat down with him. 

“Yes I have some things to tell you as well,

but you go first,” Jonathan said politely.  

“So, when I talked to my sister before she

passed, she asked me to watch over the

Capital and work there until Clay’s

recovery. That being said, I can’t be

working full time in the office and also in

the hospital. I was wondering if I could take

a leave of absence from the hospital for a while?” Elizabeth asked him.

 Jonathan was also worried about his

considering she was his trusted nurse and

she did an amazing job working for his

team and one of the only few people Clay trusted. 

“Yeah, Lilith talked to me about this too

before she passed away and needs

someone there to protect his career. I was

going to talk to you about hiring another

nurse to come in here and work with. The

only issue with this is that he doesn’t trust

anyone so it’s going to be a difficult hiring

process. He has been coming a long way

with trusting us, but it’s going to be

another challenge gaining trust from  a new

nurse,” Jonathan explained to Elizabeth. 

“Yes, I agree. Well I will talk to Clay about

this later this afternoon and that we will

make sure we hire somebody trustworthy

and experienced enough to do the jobs,”

Elizabeth said truthfully  in a sad tone.  

“Alright yes, let’s start with that and see

how it goes and we will begin the hiring

process as soon as possible. We will also

make sure that particular rules are in place

for the new nurse who would be

responsible only for Clay,” Jonathan said,

agreeing with her. 

Elizabeth noticed the envelope that

Jonathan was looking at it and was curious

about it also.

“Is that for Clay?” Elizabeth asked.  

“Yes it is. Lilith asked me to give it to Clay

for him to read when he can,” Jonathan explained. 

“Oh that’s good. I hope it will help him a

little bit more as well,” Elizabeth said

truthfully. 

“Yeah for sure. Please take it to him when

you see him later. So I think that is all we

need to discuss for now. I’ll start getting

ready for the hiring process then,”

Jonathan said. 

“Alright,” Elizabeth said as she took the

letter and then left the room.

A few hours later, after giving Clay some

time to rest by himself, Elizabeth went

back to the room to check on Clay who was

feeling decent. She walked over to his

bedside again trying to comfort him a little

bit before talking to him about what was

going to happen. 

“Hi Clay.  How are you feeling?” Elizabeth

asked sweetly looking over at him

sympathetically. 

“I’m alright now,” Clay said sadly with a

small tear down his cheek.  His emotions

were taking over as he started

remembering his mother. The more looked

up at his aunt, he saw a lot of his mother’s

resemblance in her as her facial features

and mannerisms were very similar, just

more youthful. 

“What’s on your mind dear?” Elizabeth said

kindly in a calm tone as she stroked his hair

gently. 

“I just really miss my mother. I wish she was

here,” Clay winced sadly as he held her

hand tightly. 

“I know you do, dear and I’m really sorry. 

Remember she is still here with us.

She may not be physically here, but she is

watching over us from heaven and is in a

good place now,” Elizabeth said

reassuringly, also sobbing a little bit. 

“It’s just been really difficult. I feel so guilty

and weak for trusting the wrong people,”

Clay said sadly, opening up to her again a little bit. 

“I understand Clay, but you can’t blame

yourself entirely for this. Yes you might

have trusted the wrong people, but at the

end of the day, it was Jack and Sam who

were the cause of all this which you did not

deserve,” Elizabeth said sadly, still stroking his hair gently.

“I just don’t know how I’m going to be able

to live with myself now, especially with all

of these regrets that I’ve done.

I’m really scared,” Clay said truthfully. 

“It’s going to be okay, Clay. You are not

alone with this. I will be here to help you

with work and Jonathan is right by your

side here in the hospital. We love you Clay,”

Elizabeth said sweetly with a warm smile

as she placed her hand on his shoulder

gently. 

“Thank you Aunt Elizabeth, I am grateful

that you are here for me too, but I’m also

worried about what is going to happen for

the Capital. Nobody is there right now to

take charge and I’m worried that someone

is going to take advantage of that too. I

can’t trust anyone, Elizabeth what do I do!”

Clay said nervously trying to take deep

breaths in.

“Don't you worry about that right now.

I promise we will have something sorted

tone, trying to sooth him again. 

out in place, okay,” Elizabeth said in a calm

“Are you sure?” Clay asked worriedly. 

Elizabeth sighed and then just responded

sadly, “Yes, I am sure. Your mother has

made arrangements with me before she

passed away and she wants me to look

after the Capital until you recover. I would

be working with your business partner

James and we will make sure everything is up and running at work.

The only thing is that I will not be working

here at the hospital and will have to hire a

private nurse for you,” Elizabeth explained. 

Clay tensed up  a little bit realizing that he

had to deal with getting to know a new

person again which made him really

nervous. After what he had gone through

with Jack and Sam, what if he was going to

deal with another horrible nurse again. 

“I understand and I appreciate you

taking over the Capital for me for a while.

I don’t trust anyone else for that, but I am

a bit nervous about having new nurse,

especially if she or he will be working

privately with me,” Clay said, trying to stay

calm while explaining himself as he closed

his eyes a bit to rest them. 

“I know, but I promise that we will make

sure to hire someone who is kind,

trustworthy, patient and has a lot of

experience. I will not let anything happen

to you, okay. Once we hire somebody,

Jonathan will be here with you to monitor

how everything goes for the first few

weeks,” Elizabeth replied thoroughly with him. 

“Okay, thanks Elizabeth,” Clay said and also agreed with all of this. 

“Great. Also this is a letter from your

mother and it is important for you to read,”

Elizabeth reminded him. Clay took the

envelope sadly and gave himself a few minutes before opening. 

“I’m going to need some time alone to read

this if you don’t mind,” Clay said truthfully. 

“Alright dear, I’ll step out of the room for a

little bit,” Elizabeth said sweetly as she left

the room leaving Clay alone. 

Clay then opened the letter and began to read.

Dear Clay,                                    October 31st

I'm so sorry but by the time you are reading

this, unfortunately I will no longer be here.

This wasn't an easy decision to make,

but I didn't have much time. I had found out

the truth about Sam and what Dr. Harper

had done. I was so heartbroken and you

didn't deserve any of this. I had to do what

I needed in order to save your life.

Dr. Jonathan Neyer and Aunt Elizabeth are

here for you and to trust. You can always

feel safe talking to them about anything

you need and they love you so much.

As long as you stay close to them, you will be safe and protected. 

I am very sorry to you as well. I haven’t

been the best mother at times, but

I really want you to know why I became

very overbearing and intense. It was

because I love you and genuinely want the

best for you. 

I am so proud of the young man that  you

have become. You are so strong, kind and

caring to others. You believe so strongly in

people that they would do good in the

world. Continue to be who you are, but

remember, don't be afraid to stick up for

yourself and always keep your guard down

if you choose to try and let people in your

life again.

 I have also protected you so much from the

past and there are a few things you should

know about your father. He was very harsh

sometimes and put a lot of pressure on you

at such a young age which I believe is not

fair for a child to go through that. I am not

proud of the mistakes that I made and

being slightly the cause of your father's

death, but during that moment, I had to

protect you. You were so small and didn't

deserve to be treated like that. Your father

wasn't perfect and still had some good

qualities, and I was so heartbroken when he passed away because I still  loved him so

much  and felt  guilty for so long. However,

he  also made his own choices that he

wasn't proud of either. You don't need to be

like him in order for the Capital to stay

successful. You do what you feel would be

best for the company as you are just as

capable and intuitive like he was. 

Continue to show who you truly are, work

hard and never give up even if some days

are the worst. Also remember to take the

time for yourself and enjoy your personal hobbies too. 

I am so sorry about all the pain that both

your father and I had to cause you. I just

want you to know that I have always loved

you so much and had your back. That

would never change in any life time.   

It is time for you to begin your life again and

start new.  I know you are going to feel

heartbroken and feel alone during your

recovery period and everything might

seem out of control, but it's important to

stay strong. Continue to believe in yourself

and you will heal in time. My heart is

healthy and very strong. I promise you have

a full life ahead of you. 

You deserve to be treated so much better

than what Sam had done to you and I hope

you eventually find someone who loves and

cares for you unconditionally.

Most importantly, make sure you take care

of yourself first.  I hope you find true

happiness again. I love you so much and

part of me will always be there to guide

and watch over you. 

Love Mom,”  

Clay started crying silently after reading

this. He felt somewhat at peace with

himself after reading this. She had also left

another small envelope inside the letter,

leaving behind her fortune as well.  

However everything that had been said in

the letter was true. It was going to take

some time for him to adjust to his new life

but she knew he was ready and that it was

time for him to start a new chapter in his

life. The "old Clay" was dead, and the new

Clay was very much alive and stronger than he ever was before.

[cameforcontent]

DP corpse AU where (as is common with this trope) after the portal accident, Danny is literally half human and half ghost by composition, but the ghost half is new matter that’s been added to him, so an equal amount of human matter had to go… somewhere? So when he stumbled out the portal, half of a dead teenager kind of just fell to the floor beneath him. But I like to imagine that place of death has some significance to ghosts and that Danny couldn’t bring himself to move it out of the house to bury it but also can’t just leave a corpse on the floor to rot. It’s tricky for that first little bit of time when he isn’t aware of his powers or how to use them and he has to keep moving around a drawstring bag full of his own pieces so his family doesn’t find it, but eventually he gets the idea to phase his corpse into the frame of the portal that killed him.

Blah blah blah JL or smth has to move the portal due to it being a radioactive hazard in the basement of a residential block lol. I imagine that Superman X-ray visions it and then fucking throws up bcz holy shit that’s a corpse burned to hell and the pieces are child sized wtf??? JLD had told them something twisted had to have happened for the portal to currently be operable, some sort of sacrifice, but the scientists that designed it were really compliant- all midwestern polite and endearingly zealous abt their craft. The Drs Fenton swore that this portal was built strictly on scientific processes, NO dark dealings involved, genuinely, and Martian Manhunter signaled they were telling the truth, so where why are these pubescent sized metacarpals shoved between gaps in the wires?

As many problems as Danny has with his parents, he still loves them. Do you think Danny would risk outing himself as a monster his parents want to study, that the GIW hunts mercilessly, that the Justice League themselves came to this little town to contain? Do you think he’d accept the fate that confession would buy him just to save his parents from the law?

[iwasntstable]

♱₊⁺ 𝗡.𝗦. | 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 ❯ 𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡

| WORD COUNT: 845 | RATING: SFW | CONTENT TAGS: angst |

𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗜𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗘𝗗, 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗜 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗜𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡 𝗪𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘, 𝗧𝗢 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘, 𝗧𝗢 𝗚𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗜 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗘𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡

➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

When she started to change, all he could do was watch. They chose to walk down that road together, but deep down, he knew their fate was predetermined. Inevitable footsteps leading towards disaster. No matter how much love he held for her, it would always be incompatible with reality. He tried so hard to fight it, defying the path and desperately holding on to her, but fighting for her turned into fighting her. Tears shed and tender embraces, words softly spoken and promises sealed with kisses, turned into fierce altercations, biting back in anger, things that couldn’t be unsaid, backs turned and promises broken.

Grief had found him early, settling itself into his heart while she was still there. It watched him beg despairingly all the while still holding onto her and stubbornly refusing to let go, carrying her dead weight. It watches his life cease, his hopes and dreams forcefully pushed aside, allowing her to take centre stage. All of his efforts though were a waste, and his precious time was squandered. It watches as words fall upon deaf ears; his family beseeching him to let her go, to unshackle himself in order to live again, but pleading with her to come back to him, to be who she was before. And when he finally accepted it as a part of him—the grief—he knew the last of their finite time was up.

On his knees, he cups her face in his hands, pulling her close and resting his forehead against hers. “I love you,” his voice cracks, his tears falling onto her cheeks. “I love you so fucking much. That’s why I have to do this. I’ve tried so hard, so fucking hard. I’ve put so much on hold to be here for you, and I did it gladly, but it’s clear to me now that I’m not the one you need. I tried to be. But I can’t watch you slip away anymore. Nothing I do is helping, you need real help, someone that can stop you from withering away,” taking in a shuddering breath, he pulls her in closer. She’s limp against him, but he holds her ferociously tight, like she’d slip away if he let go. He knows, after all, that she will slip away when he leaves.

Her head against his chest, his heartbeat is the backing track to his words. Arms so secure around her, she can scarcely breathe. If she died here in his arms, she thinks, she’d die happy. “I’ve been putting you first for so long. You’ve always been my priority, but... you can’t be anymore. It has to be me. I have to let you go,” his breath catches in his throat as he cries into her hair. “I have to live for myself now. And you do too, you have to live for yourself. You have to be yourself again. I never needed you to be anything but you.”

He holds her there, for how long he couldn’t say. Until his legs stiffen and his back aches. Until his tears subside, and finally, he feels he can let her go. He takes one last look at her when he releases her from his arms. Her face betrays no sign of emotion, her eyes, no signs of life, devoid of the light he fell in love with. And he knows he’s making the right decision.

Brushing her hair out of her face for the last time, he tucked it behind her ears like he did on their first date. Like he did when they’d cook together. Like he did when she was engrossed in a book. Like he’d do before he’d lean in to capture her lips with his. He does that one last time too, salt-stained lips brushing against hers; cracked and cold. “I love you,” he whispers, for the final time.

EPILOGUE; The sun was high in the sky when he saw her again.

Her.

As she was.

He prayed the night he left. For the first time in years, he fell to his knees, hands clasped in front of his heart, and he spoke to God. He prayed for her—for her health, for her mind, for her life. He prayed that she’d survive and that He would give her the strength she needed to live. But most of all, he prayed to see her again, if not here on Earth, then on the other side.

Her skin was vibrant and full of life, hair long. Longer than he’d ever seen it. She smiled ear to ear as she spoke on the phone—that very same heart-stopping smile that captivated him all those years ago. She’s just as she was. A familiar warm glow emanated from her, as though pure light itself was radiating from within. Her heart being the power source, or maybe her soul.

He was frozen to the spot, and when she sees him, she too halts as though time had stopped for them both. The only two people in the world, hearts beating in unison.

“Noah?” She smiled at him.

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/BLURB/ANYTHINGHUMAN [projects] ﹂ [my-work] | in-progress | favourites 　﹂ all | series | one-shot | [blurb] | head-cannons | ask 　　﹂ when-i-miss-you | [anything-more-than-human]

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ᯤ 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗦 (22) :　 ⌞⬤ 10 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ › @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning › @runadaggerthroughmychest › @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard › @seven-glass-kids › @english-fucker

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[ask-but-beware-the-consequences]

"And all the songs we sang become soundtrack of my soul"

The drawing for the Outpost fic's last scene is finally done! aka Toki's definition of feeling safe :3

I just noticed that Murderface and Skwisgaar are both sleeping similarly to how they've slept in that family au drawing lol. Some things never change. "God's favorite fucking boy band"

[jay-wasstuff]

When I see ao3 loading 2 seconds too long:

[immabitqueer]

I may be desperate enough to crawl back to you

But you will NEVER be her

[quietly-sleeping]

Sqh and sy as an established couple in their og world. System pulls an uh oh, since their world isn't following what it was supposed to to allow for sqh and sy to be pulled for plot maintenance. Decides to dump the peak lords into their living room and tell them, hey fix them? Maybe? Idk.

Sqh and sy have a minor panic attack because that is just a group of sqhs traumatized ocs, sy drags the system into another room for a talk. Sqh stares down the peak lords with pure "what even is my life" and kind of manages to talk enough with yqy that sy comes back and explains better what's going on.

System wants sqh and sy to do some emergency therapy essentially, and sy has bullshit it so that the peak lords will be returned to their world at the end of the month no matter what.

Peak lords are iffy, qi is very sparse in this world, and they need to be back at cqm for it to run and not be turned into a demon fun house. Sy assures them the system has allowed for no time to pass in pidw while they stay with sqh and sy.

Sj does not believe him, insists on speaking with the weird god thing himself. Gets to basically the same point with the system but wiggles area for negotiation for compensation for both parties once this is over. Sy declares he needs a goddamn nap, hands over some of his classic novels laying around, some of his clean romances, and points them to the indoor gym on their floor.

Sqh goes to take nap with his bf/husband, doesn't really matter, while the peak lords kick their feet for a bit. Sj is hella confused as to why some rich people, he assumes so since they are in a very tall building with a very spacious living quarters, would just let some randoms wander around in their house unsupervised.

They really wouldn't, but sy has used all of his brain power with the system and the sudden addition of like 8 ppl in his living room, and he wants to cuddle his bf, sue him.

Peak lords fuck around a bit, lqg chills out in the gym for a while, they don't have a lot of weights but more cardio machines and room for mats and ballet bars, lqg just uses his sword and goes through some forms, the other peak lords following him since getting separated in a strange world is not the thing to do.

Sy eventually wakes up and sqh helps him sleepily slap together something to eat while they figure out what the fuck to do. They eventually decide that since sy technically owns the building and they are the only occupants of the floor, to just let the peak Lords live in the other apartments. They aren't completely furnished, bare minimum, but they can get blankets and such if they need them.

The peak Lords don't really have an opinion since, they can't afford to have one any way they don't know shit about this place.

Uuuuh more things happen, bonding, forced proximity, system events such as not being able to lie for 24 hrs, to which sj stretches to the limit with the help of og!sqh, and like eventually they negotiate limit travel between worlds and such because like no, sj has attachment issues that he passes down onto bing-ge he's not about to let the one guy and his weird husband go just because they live in a different world, take notes yqy.

Og!sqh is like pre treason or something. Lbh has not yet touched down on qjp, and qqq is 100% attempting to get sy's meimei to join her peak.

Sy's meimei barged into the apartments while the peak Lords were having mandatory bookclub and introduced them to TV dramas. Lqg is hooked, because he can do things!! While listening to the plot!!