#SPIDERS ALONE WILL HEAL MY DEPRESSION

[dilemma-danger]

tw arachnophobia

i got to hold a lil guy at school the other day :3

[katyspersonal]

MY BEST FRIENDS!!!! :D

[sarshles-cheescake-li]

Link Click, internet slang, and Chinese culture

On the Chinese internet, there's a nickname for Link Click called Shiguang Daidaoren, meaning "the blade-bringers of time" instead of "the managers of time," the original title. Calling something "blade" is Chinese internet slang for something being angsty; whether it be derivative content or the originals themselves. Another meme is that Link Click isn't zhiyu (治愈，healing), which it is tagged as on Bilibili, but zhiyu (致郁，causing depression).

Link Click, especially its first season, is a deeply emotional and sentimental show. And it's a shame that so much of it gets not so much lost in literal, linguistic translation as much as it does in cultural, contextual translation. Many people can understand Emma's pain of being away from her parents in a new city, working a difficult job. But watching the scrolling comments on Bilibili, you get the cultural context of it -- the massive migration patterns within China from rural to urban, the children growing up and having to shed their local fangyan (方言) or, less formally, tuhua (土话)("speech of the locations" and "old-fashioned words," respectively) in exchange for Beijing Mandarin. This massive nation, nearly twice the population of Europe and only about 6% smaller in terms of area, is so diverse as to have created (what is close to) an immigrant experience for its citizens entirely within its borders. You visit your parents on Chunjie (春节）, lunar/Chinese new year, on packed trains during the largest singular human migration event on Earth, annually. And when you get home, you are faced with something different from the cities you now live in -- everything from the buildings to the furniture to the clothes they wear. I hadn't realized how deeply I missed the gaudy, garish mianao (棉袄，coats) and mianbei (棉被，cotton blankets) until I saw familiar shades of too-bright burgundy in the hands of Emma's parents. The concept of this original-home, laojia (老家, old-home) is so strongly baked into our lives that every time I meet another Chinese person, I cannot but help but ask them 你老家哪儿啊? Where is your original-home? And even though I know nothing about Chinese geography, every time I hear the answer, a little piece slots into place nonetheless.

In slang, if something made you cry or otherwise feel an emotion you weren't expecting to feel, you refer to it as pofang (破防，breaking defences). And maybe it says something that an expression of human emotion is viewed as a failure in some defences, but that's introspection for another time. Watching on Bilibili, with its hundreds of comments scrolling by "My defences have been breached" and sobbing onomatopoeia, people in the comments saying that they miss their mothers and fathers -- I, too, miss my family. When Cheng Xiaoshi, in Chen Xiao's body, tried to speak his host body's local variation and came up with butchered dongbeihua (东北话, words of the east-north), I nearly fell out of my chair. It was the sound of home, of my grandmother telling us to hush around noon because our neighbours were napping and my grandfather showing me how to play spider solitaire.

Cheng Xiaoshi's breakdown in episode 5 hits hard for its vulnerability. "I'm scared of the dark" has the same literal meaning as "我怕黑," sure, but there is something devastatingly childlike in that three-syllable declaration of fear. Where English so often derives meaning from complexity, from winding metaphors and beautiful prose, Chinese can derive breathtaking meaning from less breath than it takes to say the word analogy. 我怕黑 is stripped of any grown-up pretenses of control or dignity. It is the barest this statement can be: I. Scared. Darkness.

And what he says following, too. 我害怕一个人. Longer yet no less potent. Alone, or lonely, has many translations in Chinese. 孤独. 寂寞. 孤单. 单独. Many more synonyms for all the different ways you can be lonely. But 一个人 is, once again, an almost child-like way of saying it. Before you have the vocabulary to express these complex emotions, 一个人 is a perfectly working expression. Translating it character-by-character, it means one singular person. It is something you say when you've been left behind. When you've been made to face everything by yourself. When the world is so, so, big, and you are just one singular person, with no companions to stand with you.

And, ah, Li Tianxi's Chinese nickname, 小希. It is the last character of her full name, with a "little" shoved right in front. It is an affectionate way to call someone younger than you. It is different from Xixi, its English rendition, because a repetition of the last character is a more generalized, affectionate nickname, whereas diminutives are almost always reserved for someone younger than you, when used in real life. The diminutive says don't be scared. I'm here now. I'll handle it.

There are endless details in Link Click that make everything about it seem a little bit more like home. The word 面馆 which means something a little, subtly different than "restaurant" or "noodles shop," a difference lost without the context of the phrase 下馆子 and the way adults say it with the gladness of once-children who only ate meat on new years. The "honorifics" as English calls them, to me more of just -- ingrained parts of someone's name. Within the snap of Mandarin syllables there is meaning and memory in every character. Jie, mei, di, ge, lao, da, xiao -- they are more than their literal meanings. They are a relationship, a promise.

Perhaps I am overthinking this, awkwardly Chinese as I am: too localized to be considered first-generation, too stubbornly attached to relate to second-generation. Maybe these linguistic subtleties only exist and matter in my mind, a writer of both languages (though I must say, my Chinese prose leaves… much to be desired) with a knack for pedantics. Regardless, I hope other Chinese fans of this show share this feeling. And surely, other people will, too. All the rural children who left home to pursue higher education and opportunities in faraway cities; the raised-in-poverty who spent their childhoods dreaming of buying their family new coats; the speakers of languages long since abandoned by their childhood friends. What a delight it is to see yourself in stories, neither exception nor abnormality but a norm. What a joy it is to be one of one point four billion.

[healmyhrt]

⌗ motion picture soundtrack, m. sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt attempts to help while you’re going through a depressive episode.

disclaimers!: depression, self-harm, drug use (marijuana), established relationship, use of y/n

a/n: this was requested:)

i laid across the comforter, limbs spread out, with the lights all off. sitting in the dark made me feel safe for some reason. i liked the dark. i found comfort in darkness.

but sometimes the darkness can become the root to my problems.

i was diagnosed with depression when i was only 14 years old. since then, it’s gotten worse, but every now and then it gets better. and it got better when i met matt.

but now im getting bad again.

and i always get bad again.

i was high out of my mind, and getting lost in my thoughts the more the weed kicked in. i always used marijuana to cope with my problems, i know i shouldn’t, but i do.

even trying to stand up was a mistake. my body wouldn’t allow it. as soon as i raised my feet, my body sunk back into the mattress. i would have preferred to drown in the mattress, dying from suffocation.

red wine and sleeping pills

help me get back to your arms

light peers into the room as the door creaks open.

but i don’t move an inch. the weed made my body feel as light as a feather, and like it told me not to move at all or else i would ruin it.

“y/n?” matt makes it clear that it’s him. he walks over to the bed, and hands me a water bottle. “you need to drink something.” i push his hand away, and realizing how much energy it took out of me.

i ignore him, and he gets up, walking over to the lamp. “you can’t be like this forever.” he turns it on. the world that was black and empty is now filled with light.

but im still lost in my thoughts.

cheap sex and sad films

help me get where I belong

“i started a bath for you. come on.” he gently picks me up, and i feel nothing in my bones, my muscles, nothing at all.

once we reach the bathroom, matt sits me on the toilet seat, and starts undressing me. “arms.” he forms a small smile.

i try to lift my arms, but not even they could be moved. matt pulls my huge t-shirt over my head, carefully, and off of my arms.

he places his hands on the waistband of my underwear. “can i?” he raises an eyebrow. i nod as much as i can.

he slides them down my legs, and im seated on the toilet seat butt ass naked. matt picks me up effortlessly again, and gently places me in the bath water.

once im situated, he kneels next to the tub, and grabs a loofa. matt starts on my shoulders, and works his way down my arms. he turns my forearm toward him, and stops.

all he saw were scars.

I think you’re crazy, maybe

I think you’re crazy, maybe

matt sets the loofa down in the water, gently grabbing my arm. his warm fingers against my skin felt like spiders crawling all over me. he takes a closer look at them, some of them healed, some fresh.

“stop.” i mumble, using all of my energy to pull my arm away. looking up at matt, his eyes watering. “y/n, what is that?”

it felt like i was talking to my mother all over again. how she reacted when she found out i harmed myself. it was terrible, i never wanted to see her cry like that again. let alone matt.

“im sorry.”

matt holds his face in his hands. my eyes start to water, and i look at him. “matt, please don’t send me away.”

he immediately looks up, with a confused expression. “send you away?” i look at the water. “i don’t wanna go there again.”

matt’s face softens, and he leans closer to the tub. “y/n, who sent you away?” even talking about this makes me think of it. and i start crying uncontrollably. my thoughts are a parasite in my brain.

stop sending letters

letters always get burned

matt softly hugs me, and his arms around me help me remember feeling. feeling like i should have been.

its not like the movies

they fed us on little white lies

matt helps me back into bed, and i feel safer, now in warmers clothes. i lay my head onto the pillow, and stare at the ceiling, laughing. i could not stop laughing.

and then it stopped.

now all of the world was gray. and grayer. and even grayer. then it was black. pitch black.

matt lays down beside me, and i turn toward him. seeing his face made me feel some sort of comfort.

like i had been living in grayscale and matt was the first thing id ever seen in color.

i think you’re crazy, maybe

i think you’re crazy, maybe

matt leans in closer to me. “y/n, can i ask you a serious question?” i nod my head slowly. but my head pounded with every movement i made.

“are you okay, seriously?”

i wanted to sink into the pillow, letting matt never have to see my face again. and me not having to answer that question ever again.

i stared at him in silence.

my eyes started to water again, and i bit my bottom lip, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to leave my eyes. and matt just hugged me.

i will see you in the next life.

[weebsinstash]

I was wondering, would Mayday tell the difference between us the the YouTwo?? Cuz from the movie she looks very perceptive and smart enough, so I can’t help but wonder if she could tell when it’s us or YouTwo?

For example; we probably blow on her stomach to make her laugh whenever we greeted her. But YouTwo? She just holds her at arms length and looks at her like she’s a disease

And probably Peter B Parker would know it’s us or not??

I like the idea that certain people and especially the more animal-based Spiders can always kind of inherently tell who's who just by smell alone, but also, something I think I haven't utilized in many of my ideas yet is the Spidey Sense. You can lowkey just spidey vibe check someone and kind of tell or sense stuff about them? And like I dunno if I'm misinterpreting the scene but didn't Miles also have certain visions with some of his Spidey Sense episodes like in the first movie, he has visions of the spider being an alchemax spider just before he meets Blonde Peter, or, idk, he saw visuals with his Spidey Sense

Like sidebar but the whole, kind of vision thing, imagine you're extremely stressed and have you know maybe been doing some self harming stuff and Peter B sees you're going through it one day and, you're actually about to open up to him when you experience the Spidey vision/premonition of, you tell him and he immediately goes and tells Miguel, and you realize oh he's kind of a snitching bastard ain't he (but it's for your own good he promises he's just worried about you kiss kiss uncle Pete loves ya)

But no, I was maybe thinking, YouTwo pops up and Reader is going through their 'beginning a depressive episode' shit and you can tell YouTwo is new and freaked out and, well, it's real easy to see yourself in, well, yourself, and you're like "hey I know what it feels like to feel alone, maybe you could, hang out with this friend of mine, just this once" and you give some tips on how to act around them and, maybe the more you get depressed and feel useless, you actually let them take over more and more and it's when they have some decent "power" that they start actively replacing you and messing with you and trying to kick you out and get rid of you for real

Reader, who is also feeling aimless and depressed: hey other me, why don't you go hang out with this buddy Pavitr of mine, he has this healing energy--

YouTwo: *gets along well with Pavitr and he winds up inviting other friends of yours and YouTwo makes their own independent plans with all of them, basically assimilating deep into your entire friend group and giving themselves more opportunities to steal your friends and more people, and also these hangouts become later 'proof' aka "well im the real one and i can prove it, hey Pavitr remember when we--"*

Reader: hmmmm definitely don't like that!

But no just. Picture Peter B one day finds a little bruise on Mayday, maybe a few of them, and he noticed her temperament is a little different. He can just TELL something is wrong and so can her mother Mary Jane, and Peter thinks, well, there's really not many times she's even out of his sight, ALTHOUGH he DID let 'you' babysit a few times. And at first he wants to play it off, "oh you're just inexperienced with babies and Mayday can be a total handful, you probably just made a mistake" and 'you' even lie and say, maybe it was another kid or Spider animal who got to her when 'you' had barely turned your back

But Peter B gets a little tiny baby monitor/listening device gadget, like a little hard plastic keychain that looks innocent and is ultra durable, and he attaches it to Mayday anyways, just to find out definitively what's happening, and he's with Miguel one day making idle chit chat and they can just hear 'you' over the baby monitor, "why does he keep leaving you with me. I don't even like you, you nasty little monster" and Peter B is just sort of like. ":) haha I'm sure they're. They're joking. They're totally joking" and there's just a series of *yelp* "did you just fucking bite me? Little BITCH!" *Mayday cries out and starts bawling* "yeah you're lucky that's all you get, my parents used to do way worse to me--"

Cue Peter B and Miguel bursting into the room because both fathers are understandably ENRAGED because 1. Dude have 'you' been hurting Parker's literal actual baby and 2. This is not the person they thought it was. Oh SHIT is this not the right person they thought it was

Peter B eventually meets up with you, the real you again, because sometimes i imagine Reader just quietly moves to a normal part of Nueva York and you hand your Spidey life over to YouTwo, and youre understandably a little hateful and dont want to talk to him, but he kinda just, deposits his baby into your arms. Hes gonna baby test ya and see if youre the real one. Mayday just is totally relaxed in your arms, which are noticeably much more careful holding her than your double was because Peter B actually showed you how to hold a baby, and she also has a bandaid on her hand from scratching it against something and you're just like "oh no, you got a little boo boo 🥺 why does your DUMB DADDY keep bringing you around places you can get hurt" and Peter B is like "well ok I think that's a little uncalled for but this one is definitely the real one"

Peter B is then at the front of the Anti YouTwo lynchmob because "that fake HURT MY BABY, Miguel!" which of course wins over a bunch of other formerly skeptical Spiders. You think Jess would ever give YouTwo a second chance? Fuck that, she's not gonna trust some temperamental monster around her baby whenever it's born! Meanwhile Spider Cat who can't talk is over here like "yeah well why do you think I kept biting them, they're a fake 🙄 you see this bullshit, Spider Miette" "jail for faker, jail for faker for one thousand years--"

The Spider Society finally 'gets you back' all "and arent you so happy things can just go back to normal again :)" and you're like "uhhh no fuck you guys, I'll live here but only because you don't give me any other option, the only ones of you I still trust anymore are the animal Spiders, the little kids, Hobie the realest bitch in here who never doubted me, and the toys, isn't that right special edition neon funko pop Miles Morales"

One day after YouTwo has replaced you they get too comfortable thinking everyone is always never once going to question or doubt them anymore and some absolutely heinous shit comes out of their mouth and like they get the social equivalent of one of those Telltale or Fallout video game HUDS pop up, "EVERYONE disliked that" "Miguel will remember that" "social karma lost"

YouTwo, not realizing you did one last thing to fuck them over on the way out: oh hey it's that Hobie guy that's been gone for ages, the real me told me the special password to let him know I'm the real one was "blue lives matter"?

the second that shit comes out of YouTwo's mouth he instantly knows as well as literally anyone around who knows Hobie now knows that's the fake you. YouTwo gets some real life ass [YOU CANNOT FAST TRAVEL WHEN THERE ARE HOSTILES IN YOUR AREA] as Hobie and everyone else for that matter instantly goes into full "I can't kill you but I can beat your ass" mode

[whaliiwatching]

Caught up to the fic!! Absolutely fascinated by all the queer/punk/poc history here, since I don't know much myself. Very sweet chapter as well.

Unrelated question - mostly - but why is it common fanon to depict Noir as the more scarred up of various spiderpeople? Naturally everyone has their fair share of fights, though the only we see sustaining any marks is Peter B and his misaligned nose. Personally, I've taken it as Noir Peter not healing as cleanly due to it being Spider God stuff over Weird Radioactive Healing Factor stuff. Thoughts?

thank you so much!! i’m glad you liked it, & hope the ending was satisfying for ya <3

short answer: hot

long answer, plus a map of my idea of noir’s scars: under readmore :)

i’m not a devout spidey comic/movie fan or a doctor. this is based on conjecture and minimal research!

when i came up with my unmasked noir ideas, i wasn’t influenced by fanon—i hadn’t seen any other fan art, not even when itsv came out. but i can think of a good few reasons that scarred noir is a popular headcanon: evidence of what he’s been through makes him feel more tangible/relatable, the visual difference enhances his thematic individuality as distinct from other spider-people (especially other Peter Parkers), self-consciousness can explain why he doesn’t take off his mask in itsv even around other spiders.

all perfectly valid and interesting reasons! but the first two reasons are doylist and the last one is missing a crucial question: why does he have scars? unless a wound is severe, gets infected, or gets lucky, it won’t usually scar. facial injuries especially need to be really bad to leave a mark. and of course most if not all other spider-people have the healing factor. so what gives??

i like the spider god’s curse influences healing factor idea; it opens up some nice angsty possibilities regarding an inability to Be “Fixed;” no matter how much he tries, he can’t erase/forget what’s happened to him. but i also enjoy the bandaging someone up after a fight genre of fic, and am annoyingly pedantic, so my personal working theory is that the healing factor is not a doctor with ten plus years of experience and an accurate understanding of human anatomy. when a bone really badly breaks, it has to be reset or it’ll heal wrong. to me, the healing factor doesn’t know what ‘right’ is, only ‘fast’ and ‘effective.’ it’s an accelerant, not a substitute for medicine.

so let’s establish the baseline. modern spideys either receive modern medical attention or the injury is superficial enough that they don’t require it. even poverty-stricken peter parkers get rushed to the hospital, because fictional doctors Don’t Care About The Money and/or peter is dolled up in spider gear and who’s going to ignore a visibly beat-up celebrity hero?? plus i honestly believed peter b’s nose was just genetics or smthn. my nose is misaligned and it’s never been broken to my knowledge

to compare, noir lives in 1933 and, far as i can tell, doesn’t rlly garner the same fame and respect from the public as modern spideys do. in the 30s, medicine was meh (they had x-rays but didn’t rlly consider radiation much of a threat, penicillin was still in its infancy, polio was a huge threat, etc) but was also, more importantly, far too expensive for most people suffering during the Great Depression. whatever treatment noir receives after a fight, if any, would look way different from ours. that means his healing factor, which can’t differentiate scars from normal skin or a misaligned bone from a whole one, would be inefficiently assisted or left alone. it would leave its history behind.

on the infectious disease side of things, it’s probably much easier for even noir to recover from less physical ailments like the flu and pneumonia—spider healing factor likely remembers and codes for immunity better than regular immune systems—but without modern drug therapies he’d still be worse for wear, ie internal scarring. mans would have a shorter-than-average parker lifespan if not for the pseudo-immortality of the Spider God

anyway. all this to say, here’s my personal map of parker’s scars. crop tank and daisy dukes to keep tumblr off my ass <3

(tbh this is more for my reference than anyone else’s, i’m sick of looking through my art of Just His Forearms to keep my details consistent, but maybe someone will find it interesting lol)

[marymary-diva17]

Hello. Could you make one story where Neteyam survives the shot, but and paralyzed and on depression. He's family tries the best to help him, somehow.

neteyam x female aonung + sully family

After the battle with the humans and victory for the navi, there had been much lost before the war and during the battle. Now it was time for recovery and moving on, as everyone was getting back to some what normal life there were some stuff that might not be able to recovery that easily and will take some time.

angi " perfect" angi had gotten up from the ground and soon picked up a basket filled with food and other stuff as well. She was on her way to go see the sully family and see now neteyam was doing, he had been shot but had been saved by his grandmother and ronal along with the help of the humans.

ronal " off to see the sully family again my daughter"

angi " yes mother I was planning to go alone or with my siblings if they wish to come, I can come back right away to take care of my baby brother"

ronal " no it okay my daughter go be with your siblings and friend, I can take care of your brother you have been helpful enough for this family and the sully family" ronal was holding her baby son who was smiling at his sister.

angi " yes mother"

ronal " This that necklace for neteyam"

angi " yes I was hoping it will make him feel better he still resting and I thought this will bring a smile to his face"

ronal " that wonderful"

tsireya " sister are you going to see the sully family today"

angi " yes"

rotxo " can we come please"

angi " sure I was planning to ask you both if you haven't left yet"

rotxo " well come on lets go"

angi " bye mother and by upix"

tsireya and rotxo " bye mom and baby brother"

ronal " bye my child and angi"

angi " yes mother"

ronal " please look after neteyam that boy has been through alot and might need help"

angi " yes mother" the three siblings had soon take off towards the sully home to, see their friends and to see if they need any help. They soon reach the family home.

lo'ak " hey guys"

angi " hey lo'ak we brought over some food and stuff for the family"

lo'ak " oh thank you"

Jake " lo'ak who are you talking with ... oh hello kids"

lo'ak " dad they brought over some stuff for us"

Jake " that nice of them"

tisyrea " well all the work had mostly been done by angi"

angi " no it was all our help sister"

rotox " aww being so modest"

kiri " hey guys it good to see you all today"

spider " hey"

tuk " yeah more friends have come"

angi " yes we came to see your family and give this basket of stuff as well"

Jake " I can take it young lady wow this stuff is so amazing"

angi " thank you"

tuk " hey come on let go have some fun can we dad"

Jake " sure but stay with your older siblings and cousins"

tuk " yes dad"

angi " we should ask neteyam to join us is he up"

neytiri " he is still healing young lady but thank you for asking about him" the family ahd gotten very quite when angi had asked her question, the girl was feeling horrible now for asking her question.

angi " oh will it be fine if we can still see him for short time I miss .... we miss him"

neytiri " maybe later on he needs time alone to rest and control his thought but he does miss you all"

angi " yes ma'am"

Kiri "Come on, and maybe we can bring something back for Neteyam later" The group soon left, saying nothing else, but Angi did look back and saw Jake talking with Neytiri. They didn't seem that happy, and they were also talking with someone who seemed like Neteyam, but the girl couldn't tell at the moment.

Later on

angi " ......"

tuk " that a beautiful gift who is meant for angi"

angi " oh it for neteyam I couldn't give it to him as he still resting, and not seeing that many people"

tuk " I think he going to love it angi"

angi " thank you tuk tuk" Tuk had ran off leaving the girl alone as she was looking at the gift in her hands, she had decided to take some courage and give the gift to neteyam. Angi soon left the group and headed back towards the sully home, she was hoping to have the chance to see neteyam.

angi " hello" she had arrived at the home to see neither Jake or neytiri were at home, meaning they were out at the moment.

????? " angi" angi soon looked up and saw neteyam standing with his hand on the door frame.

angi " hello neteyam I came to see you earlier today"

neteyam " oh yes I heard your voice and saw you a bit thank you for the gifts"

angi " oh your welcome I also came to bring you a gift as well"

neteyam " oh that wonderful of you let me come towards you" neteyam had taken a few steps but it looked like he was having a hard time walking, he soon had fallen to the ground.

angi " neteyam" angi race to neteyam as she was now on the ground, she was making sure he was okay.

neteyam " damit"

angi " neteyam"

neteyam " I thought I was getting better I thought there was a chance everything will be okay"

angi " teyam what the matter"

neteyam " when I was shot I was hurt badly it seems like I effected my ability to walk .... my dad and the scientist say I might not walk the same anymore or that all ... I have been doing these exercises to help but it hasn't work ... now I can't protect my family or friend"

angi " neteyam don't say that"

neteyam " ......"

angi " if you can stand and walk a bit there is chance you can walk and run again, you just need help from your family and everyone else around"

neteyam " my parents have been helping me but I don't wish to be burned to everyone I'm use to caring for others, I don't wish to take up everyone else time"

angi " well now it time for you to allow other to help and care for you, let me help you as you have helped me before"

neteyam " thank you angi ... is that your gift"

angi " yes it a necklace they are made for brave warriors and you are one of them neteyam"

neteyam " thank you I will be honored to wear it"

angi " good now come one lets get you off this floor and cleaned up, and then we can start helping you heal and recovery"

neteyam " thank you angi"

angi " your welcome" angi had helped neteyam off the ground and soon after he was cleaned up and okay, the pair soon started spending time with neteyam recovery.

Many days later

Jake " where did neteyam go" Jake was looking for neteyam was he wasn't home when Jake returned, the family had noticed neteyam was getting better physically and emotionally.

neytiri " ma Jake have you found him"

Jake " no I haven't it seems like he went off on his own" the couple soon started looking for their son, but soon came across ronal and tonowari.

ronal " hello Jake and neytiri you two seem worried"

Jake " we are looking for neteyam he wasn't home today and we seem to no find our other kids"

tonowari " well it seems like we can't find our children as well" the parents had decided to look together but soon came across their kids and mo'at looking at something or more like spying.

neytiri " children there you are do you know where neteyam is"

lo'ak " shh there are going to hear you mom and get low as well" The four adults had gotten low as their kids were spying on something.

ronal " what are you talking about"

tsireya " mom no they are going to see us"

tonowari " who"

mo'at " them" mo'at had pointed the four adults soon saw angi and neteyam dancing, the pair seem to be having a fun time together.

Jake “ neteyam is dancing she hasn’t been much of dancer in the past”

moat “ a couple days ago I spot them here it seems like she been helping him, get use back in his legs and helping him heal”

neytiri “ they seem so happy together that why he smiling all the time”

ronal “ wait now long have you kids been knowing”

kids “ two days ago”

tonowair “ so this what our daughter has been doing”

Jake “ yes and it seems like they both have done each other a favor” the group had watched the two teens dance and walk around, they seem so close to each other. Neteyam had finally allowed his walls down and allowed someone to help him, and with banging help he was able to experience his feelings about everything more do his family and begin a new start of healing.

[mmhcs]

Sun Comes Out Again

Miles Morales x PTSD!Reader

Foreword: I know that everyone’s experience is different but these are just my headcannons of how I think 1610!Miles would handle a partner with trauma

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD (uncomfortable feelings, mood swings, unhealthy coping mechanisms, etc.)

When (and if) you tell him, Miles, while shocked, tries not to let that be the only emotion he conveys in the moment. He tries his best to listen, letting you explain the situation, your feelings, etc.

To be really honest, he's just been under the impression that you're anxious (like him) about making sure the relationship is going well and that the other feels loved and appreciated.

Miles knows a lot about mental health, but he also doesn't really know a lot about mental health. Like, don't get me wrong, he's most definitely an emotionally intelligent guy and he's the number one advocate for mental health, especially that of his fellow Black boys. But when it comes to learning about the specifics of how to deal with triggers and flashbacks...He's still some ways to go. But, despite not knowing everything, Miles tries his best.

Despite him having Spider-sense, Miles is not a mind-reader. (I mean, have you seen the movies? He's emotionally intelligent but you have to remember that his brain mainly thinks when necessary). He notices your shifts in mood, yes, but you have to communicate with him. If you tell him what you want or need, he'll try his best to give it to you.

^You need reassurance? He'll make it a point to start slipping in more compliments and reminders that he's so thankful and grateful to have you in his life. You feel anxious and like the world is too big? Depends. If you want company, he'll sit with you, put something on and just sit with you. No words need to be exchanged. However, if you want to be alone? That's cool, too. He'll probably send a text or two (the first just saying that he hopes you're okay and that you'll get through this, the latter being a good night text where he emphasizes the same thing).

For my readers that tend to isolate themselves: he's okay with you needing your space. But Miles knows that difference between when you're not at 100% and need some time and when you're purposefully isolating yourself as a punishment, self-harm, because you feel unloveable, etc.

^If you tend to isolate yourself, Miles won't force you to do anything that feels uncomfortable or too much for you. If anything, he'll simply come over (or invite you over to his place) and go about his business while you do your thing. If you're up for doing anything, however, then you best believe that he's making plans, getting ready, texting his parents, saying that he might not be home for dinner...No matter the circumstance, he just wants you to know that you're worthy of love and shouldn't have to go through what you're going through alone.

Miles tries his best not to take anything personally. Like, if you two are cuddling and suddenly you don't want to be touched anymore or it all feels like too much and you want to be alone, it's not biggie to him. He'll find other things to do (draw, bake, annoy his parents and/or friends at the Spider Society).

Miles hates seeing you depressed. When he sees you like that, he feels sad (he's a Certified Empath, okay?). He wants to make you feel better and take away all your sadness but he knows that it doesn't work like that. So, he does the next best thing and helps you power through it.

^Asks if you've taken your medication, does regular checkups to see how you're doing, encourages you to go out, do your hair, dress up, be happy or, alternatively, encourages you to cry, wallow, be angry, take a break. He's very big on feeling what you're feeling and letting it out.

^^ Supports you on your healing journey. If you decide to go on medication, he's cheering you on, sitting beside you as you weigh the pros and cons, giving you advice and suggestions. If you (also) go to therapy, he's sure not to schedule dates that interfere with appointment times, reminds you of your upcoming appointments (I would say who needs a calendar when you have Miles but he probably uses the calendar to remember your appointments, too), and always, always, always asks you how you feel after each appointment.

^^^"Do...Do you feel like that [therapist/psychiatrist/psychologist] hears you? Because, you know, it's okay if you don't; we can always find a new person for you!"

After hearing and listening to you, Miles starts to think that he, too, may have PTSD. And, I mean, he probably does. Did y'all see how that boy became Spiderman? I don't think an adult could handle all that and my good sir was how old at the time? Fourteen? Fifteen?

Miles would be hesitant to talk about it at first (whether or not you know that he's Spiderman) because he doesn't want to feel like he's "piggybacking" off of you and also is he really traumatized or just overreacting?

He'd eventually tell you, though. If you know that he's Spiderman, he tells you the story of how it happened and if you don't know then he focuses more on the part about losing Uncle Aaron and how things have seemingly been constantly changing and stressful since then.

With your help, he would formulate a plan to talk to Rio and Jeff (or should I say Mr. and Mrs. Morales? Rio, please don't hit me) about starting therapy.

When he finally does tell them, Miles is scared out of his mind. Like, he's having an about-to-faint anxiety attack during the whole conversation. And what makes it even worse is that instead of giving an immediate response, his parents tell him that they're going to "talk it over" with each other.

^^During the first second that she and her husband are alone, Rio is advocating for Miles to go to therapy. Jeff agrees and has no problem with it, but Rio closes the door and says something like, "Start researching counselors," like they just didn't tell Miles that they were going to talk it over.

Rio knows her son and she's noticed the shift in his behavior ever since he's started attending Brooklyn Visions. She doesn't know if it's the school itself or something else going on behind the scenes and sometimes it drives her crazy at night. It hurts a little that her little man doesn't want to tell her but make no mistake, that's still her baby and she'll do anything for him and his happiness. So, if he wants to try therapy, then best believe, she'll be all around the hospital, asking for recommendations.

Miles is a nervous wreck before his first therapy session. He's hyperventilating, scared, rethinking everything. But once you (and his parents) come in to calm him down and remind him that this isn't weakness; it's a bold and brave decision that he made, he starts to calm down.

Y'all share coping mechanisms that you learn in therapy. Y'all make a commitment to learn more about each other's triggers and how you can best help each other through your rough times. Y'all regularly remind each other that you are not broken, not damaged, and worthy of all the love in the world.

You two most definitely have a secret spot that y'all go to when one or both of y'all are not feeling it.

Overall, Miles loves you and through your love, he has learned about himself and is happier and healthier than ever.

Bonus: Imagine Miles as Spiderman, screaming from a rooftop, "Mental Health Is Important!"

I had fun with this one.

To anyone struggling right now: Keep going, you're doing amazing. You are so loved and I'm proud of you for deciding to embark on this journey. It may not feel like you're making progress or like you don't know what you're doing but you'd be surprised how much of healing is throwing stuff at the wall and seeing what sticks.

And to anyone currently going through it: It will be okay. I'm so darn proud of you for persevering and remember, when you sink to the bottom, the only way left to go is upwards. You're so loved.

If you need someone to talk to or just want to chat, you can always send a message!

[raving-raven-writing]

Masterlist

Here is a master list of some of the fanfiction stories I've written. Feel free to take a peek! These are just some of the stories I have written. If you want, you can find me under the name DenDragon14 on ao3.org to see more! Also, thank you to @goodbyetothenight for making a post on how to create a master list, it was very helpful. Note/Edit: I am probably going to stop linking things on here, but I will continue to list new additions. All my fanfics are so only those with an account can view it, and my brain has this irrational thought that somehow people will be able to login as me if I link things....yeah, sorry. I'm trying to override that thought but my brain won't allow it. Anyway, the main fandoms that I write for are Avatar, The Umbrella Academy, and Newsies. But I do also have stories up there for Teen Wolf, Cursed, Ouran Highschool Host Club, Snowpiercer, The Breakfast Club, The 100, and Stranger Things. All of this you can find on ao3!

Avatar Fanfiction

Path of the Lost Men

A Sleepwalking Spider

That's Not Your Fault TW: Description of SA on a minor

Just the Start

Yippee Kay Yah and All That Shit

Lost and Found: I Will Try to Fix You

Work of Art (Part 1 of Recom Mild Smut Series)

Spirit Box

Snowpiercer Fanfiction (TV show, not the movie)

Too Funny Not to Tell

Wounds Heal with Time

New Home

The Umbrella Academy

Baggage

Better Than Being Alone

Not Alone Anymore

Beyond the Fire

Some Assistance Needed

There For You

No Such Thing as Normal

Gone Too Soon

Dead and Gone

Snippets (All Fandoms)

Western/Cowboy AU--Avatar Fanfiction YouTuber AU/Modern Day AU--Avatar Fanfiction TW: Mentions of depression and suicide Spider Sees Ghost AU--Avatar Fanfiction Snippet 2 Lyle x OC---Avatar Fanfiction TW: To be added. but several kinks included that may not float your boat. Spider is a Street Kid AU--Avatar Fanfiction TW: To be added in full work Snippet 2 Entertainer Spider WIP--Snippet

Untitled WIP-Total Drama Fanfiction Snippet

[theoriginalkittyromero-blog]

Part 1 about me

There are things we all don't say out loud. Not even I do. These things that haunt me. My insecuritys, my axiety I try to control. The thing about me is: whenever I go in a huge croud, I feel my head looking down, my shoulders slunching forwards and into themselves. I can stand so tall, so proud, but my past teached me not to. The depression of the things I've seen, I witnessed, I did... It weighs a lot, but going about my life, I learned or rather, had to learn to carry everything with me in order to not worry people around me. My fear of Spiders, my fear of tight hallways and tight spaces in general. The first time I had a panic attack because I stood in a crowd of drunken men and one came too close. My mother questioning for the first time why I had one and me being forced to tell her. The second time I had one and the third. It went on and on. When speaking to my own father, my actual father and he came around telling me he knows how I feel because he suffers from the same. My fear of pregnant women even though it is natural and my forced breathing exercises I had to teach myself. The first time I had a panic attack whilst my, at that time, boyfriend was on the phone because a spider had been on my hand and it went over to a full on hysterical panic over everything. Sight blurry, unable to hear or think straight and everything crashing down on me. The last time I visited a therapist and he told me he couldn't help me anymore. My boyfriend breaking up because he couldn't understand my panic attacks, didn't know what to do. My ex girlfriend breaking up because I didn't text her for one day, wanting to see if she would do so instead. The feelings tumbling out of me when I am alone. My insecuritys and fears crawling on my back, making me clingy to anyone I like and love. People run from me because sometimes, I can't stop myself from wanting to text that one person my heart beats for constantly. Can't stop myself from constantly worrying, not wanting them to go through the same without anyone being there for them. Because I know what it feels like to be completely alone. I know how heavy the weight can get... And I grab the bottle, bring it to my lips and drink again. My grandmother would've ripped it from my hands. Oh, that beautiful woman that had the best advices. My best friend would smack me on the head, rip the bottle froom me an would literally thow it out the window in order for me to not fall back into my old tendencies to deal with my problems. I train my body to feel better, feel stronger even though my heart is weak. The shattered pieces from thousand heartbreaks still on the floor and only one small part per year repairing itself. Will I ever heal? Ever stop feeling like this? I read fanfictions about love and ask myself if I am allowed such a thing. I think that I deserve punishment like this. I look at happy couples and my heart gets heavy again, tears building in the corners of my eyes and my nose getting stuffy. The things I don't say to people around me... I am an honest person, offering advice to whoever may need it, but following it for myself is not in my strength. And so, I search for a hand to guide me. Always knowing they could backstab me, blackmail me... Another big gulp from the bottle and I can feel myself going numb. Everything feeling alright again. I am sorry to everyone that knows me, to see me like this, tears rolling down my chin without any sound as I overthink and can't stop.

[rengokuswif3]

Hospital Beds and Lost Confidence

A/N: Inosuke lives in my head rent free and he’s really fun to write for, so I wanted to write something where when he was in the Butterfly Mansion and too exhausted and depressed for rehabilitation training and the reader helps him out of his slump because SAME MAN I CANT GET OUTTA BED EITHER CAUSE IM SAD

It was no secret that Inosuke felt down, everyone in the Butterfly Estate could tell. He didn’t leave his bed much, barely ate, didn’t talk at all. It was so out of character for him to be so quiet, and it worried you to death.

You had been with him, Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Nezuko on Mount Natagomu. You saw the damage those demons caused to you all, and how they totally destroyed your boyfriends confidence. He had gotten beat up pretty bad by the father spider demon, then strung up by a Hashira and left there. So yes, he chose to lie in bed and feel sorry for himself. He knew that wasn’t doing him any good, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He just thought about how he could barely save himself, let alone really help anyone else. You had gotten pretty hurt too because of him, in his eyes at least. He didn’t get to you in time and you had gotten thrown so hard against a tree you broke nearly half your ribs and an arm. He felt helpless and useless in that moment, just standing there seeing you knocked out and bloodied, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

You on the other hand didn’t see it like that at all. You should have waited for backup rather than attacking by yourself against such a strong opponent. You knew you didn’t stand a chance yet did it anyways, getting yourself and your love hurt in the process. You couldn’t train yet as you had to wait for your ribs to heal before doing any sort of movement, so you were bedridden. Tanjiro tried everyday to get Zenitsu and Inosuke to join him, but failed every day. You tried to convince them as well, Tanjiro giving you a thankful smile before signing and heading off to training by himself once again.

Today was no different, Tanjiro tried to drag them out of bed with no success. Zenitsu kept fast asleep, and you couldn’t tell if Inosuke was awake or not due to him keeping his boar head on. You knew he felt horrible, he kept that thing on so no one could see the look on his face. So nobody could see what a weakling he was.

You decided you had let him have enough time to think by himself, and you needed to help him get back on his feet. After saying his name a few times and getting no answer back or even a single movement, you moved to get up but cried out in pain when you felt a sharp stab in your side.

“Y/N?!” Inosuke immediately sat up, seeing you trying to get out of bed. “Lay back down, you’ll hurt yourself!”

“But I need to-“

“What do you need? I’ll get it for you!” He insisted, getting up and helping you lie back down slowly and carefully.

“I need you.” You grabbed his hand, afraid he’d go right back to bed and not get up again.

“Me?” He pointed at himself in disbelief.

“You need to stop sulking, please. It’s not healthy for you. You need to start training again.”

He stared at you for a moment before sighing and sitting down on your bed next to you, intertwining your fingers together. He hung his head low in shame, not daring to look at you in the eye and see your disappointment in him.

“Y/N, I…can’t.”

“Of course you can.”

“No, I can’t. What’s the point? I’m too weak. I’ll never be good enough to protect you. I’ll never be strong enough. It’s my fault you’re so injured and stuck laying here. It’s…it’s all my fault.” He said sadly. You’ve never heard him talk like this. He was so…insecure. He always spoke loud with confidence and radiance, always sure to let everyone know where he stood; above them.

“It’s not your fault, Suke. It’s mine. I was the one who attacked when I knew I wouldn’t win. I made an irrational decision and a dangerous mistake, I decided to do that. It’s my fault for this, Inosuke. All you did was defend me and help me to safety. I don’t see how that’s weak at all.” You rubbed your thumb on the back of his hand in soothing circles, hoping to comfort him.

“But I should’ve been there for you! I didn’t get there in time and you got hurt because of it! Why can’t you see how weak and pathetic that makes me?!” He yelled angrily. He wasn’t angry at you whatsoever, he was only angry at himself. Tears started leaking out of his boars head, which made you tear up yourself. You hated that he felt like this, and it was because of you.

“Inosuke! Stop it!” You snapped, tears threatening to fall down your face. Your outburst made him look at you in surprise, you were always the calm and rational one while he was the yeller. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard you yell before. “You are not weak! You are not pathetic! You are the strongest, bravest person I know! I love you because I know I’m always safe with you and you’ll always protect me! Okay?! Do you understand?!”

You were full on crying now, feeling so guilty for how he felt. Sure it wasn’t all your fault, it was that stupid demon that hurt the both of you. He crushed Inosuke’s ego and you hated seeing him not confident with himself. It was one of the things that made you fall in love with him, and seeing him in so much pain hurt you too.

“Y/N…I…I’m sorry.” He sniffled. “I just…I wish you didn’t get hurt. I wish I could’ve saved you. I wish I was stronger. I want to protect you, I don’t want to see you hurt. I can’t lose you, you’re the only person who’s ever loved me and I…I love you.”

You both fell silent, tears streaming down both of your faces. You slowly reached out and lifted his boar head off his own so you could see his face. He never let anyone see him crying like this, but he trusted you and let you see his face whenever you wanted. It was his way of being vulnerable and your way of showing him he could trust you. You wiped his tears off his cheeks with your thumbs as you cupped his face, his hands coming up to rest on top of yours.

“I love you too. Which is why you need to understand none of it was your fault. Okay?”

“Okay.” He finally nodded, a small smile forming on his lips as he continued to cry. “I’m sorry for causing you this pain.”

“I’m sorry you thought you were the cause.” You smiled softly at him, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his. He made the kiss rougher, as he usually did, which made you giggle a little into the kiss.

“OH COME ON. GET A ROOM!” Zenitsu’s voice screeched from across the room. Inosuke broke the kiss to glare at the blonde boy, who was in turn glaring back as well.

“OI, YOU INTERRUPTED US!” Inosuke stood up in a defensive position.

“YOU GUYS WOKE ME UP WITH YOUR GROSS KISSING!” Zenitsu insisted in disgust.

“YOU’RE JUST JEALOUS CAUSE AINT NOBODY WANT TO KISS YOU!”

“AM NOT!”

“WELL GET OUTTA HERE YOU VIRGIN!”

“YOU LIVED IN THE MOUNTAINS, YOU’RE A VIRGIN!”

“THEN LEAVE THE ROOM SO WE CAN CHANGE THAT!”

“EW!”

“Just WHAT is going on in here?” A short girl snapped from the doorway. You recognized Aoi, one of the girls who lived at the Butterfly Estate to help rehabilitate injured slayers.

“Oh hi, Aoi!” You waved and smiled at her. “Sorry to disturb the peace, but these two have informed me they are ready to get back into training!”

“Is that so?” She crossed her arms and continued to glare at them. “Come on then, we have a LOT of work to do.”

“Y/N!” Both boys whined at you. Inosuke gave you his puppy eyes, which always worked on you without fail.

“Do it for me?” You asked sweetly, motioning for him to lean down so you could give him a peck on the cheek. A blush spread across his face, then a large grin.

“OF COURSE!” He put his boar head on and leaped over the beds out the door. “IM GONNA KICK EVERYONE’S ASS FOR YOU!”

“Just what I want to hear!” You called after him, laughing. At least he was back to normal, and you had your Inosuke back.

[gredandforgeweatherby]

The Girl One Floor Below

Apartment 3C

Summary: Peter Parker helps a girl move in

WC: 1.3K

warnings: A singular swear word, talk of Gwen's death and its effect on Peter (recurring theme throughout the chapters) Not edited because I wanted to pot it today and written over the course of one day so my crappy writting. Takes place after NWH so spoilers if you haven't seen it.

If you haven't seen it go watch it right now, like literally close tumblr and go watch it. It's life changing.

      Peter Parker was tired.

       He was tired of the project Jameson had made him redo multiple times (4 and counting!), despite the fact that he thought it was perfectly fine. He was tired from his multiversal travel, even though he has been back in his own universe for three months now. And he was tired of being alone.

     Now don't get him wrong, he was totally fine with living alone – he had for several years now. He was fine with maybe not getting out as much as he used to or seeing people outside of his work (willingly). The thing that bugged him was – well, it was a combination of things.

Landing in another universe changed him for the better. Seeing the two others Peter’s living their lives happily, or as happily as they could being a superhero, with someone sparked a bit of hope in his heart. They had time for Spider-Man, and they had time for Peter Parker. He hadn’t. Ever since that night in the clocktower, once he managed to drag himself out of the pit of despair, depression, and guilt that Gwen’s death had catapulted him into, he didn’t make time to be Peter Parker. Just Peter Parker. He left the city on its own for a while, and came back more brutal than before. He was the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but he’s afraid he lost that title years ago.

Gwen was his one – his soulmate, his person, the one he was destined to spend forever and longer with. That’s what he thought at least. But he was older now, twenty-seven going on twenty-eight, and he no longer believed in that. He believed he was meant to fall in love with Gwen, become enamored by her, and then have her ripped away from him in the most gut wrenching way he could have possibly imagined (if he ever imagined it, which he didn’t), and then spend the rest of his life living with that knowledge. The knowledge that as every year passes, he grows a year older while Gwen is forever nineteen. That he lives with the guilt and pain about what happened that night. He believes he was meant to be alone, that the universe wanted to give him a taste of what a wonderful life he could have had if maybe he had never been bitten, or been so selfish, or maybe hadn’t been born with the name of Peter Benjamin Parker. 

The universe could be a real bitch.

But part of him, a small part of him, had been healed when he saved his younger brother’s MJ, preventing him from living the life he had for almost eight years. Peter had found solace knowing that he prevented the youngest Peter from losing his twin flame, and that helped him heal. That had been the first true step in his healing journey, he realized, as nothing he had done before had really helped. The burning pain he once held in his heart and head had become a dull ache spread across his entire body over the years, but a trip to another universe had helped that ache subside just a bit. And for that, he was thankful.

Nine months out from a quick trip of meeting two other versions of him, he was healing. He was getting better. Peter blamed himself less than he had for Gwen’s death, the dull ache had subsided more, and although he knows it will never be fully gone, he’s glad it can become duller and duller until it’s almost absent. He was taking better care of himself, stopping in to see May more and staying longer for visits. Jameson finally accepted the project that had been causing him a substantial amount of grief since he had come back. (He had to do it over five times before Jameson finally deemed it acceptable, although at that point Peter had gotten tired of his shit and just submitted his first version again and Jameson didn’t even know.) He was trying to leave his apartment a bit more for things that weren’t work or errand related, and began decorating his apartment a bit nicer to hopefully bring some light into his life. He was on his way back from the bugle, and was only a few steps away from the elevator of his apartment building when he took a quick look to his left. 

A few feet from his left was a woman close to the same age as him. She was obviously moving in as she had two moving boxes with her, although she was slightly struggling to get a hold on both of them. Her hair was short; dark brown cut to sit a bit above her shoulder, yet most of it was up in a ponytail, the rest sitting against the base of her neck, lightly damp with sweat. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, as it was now July and the heat was brutal, and he could see small beads of sweat collecting at her hairline. Nonetheless, Peter thought she was beautiful.

Looking at her made his heart race, made him feel nervous like he was back in highschool talking to Gwen again. He noticed his palms beginning to sweat and wiped them on his jeans as he debated going over to talk to her. He had almost decided on no when he had thought back to what the eldest of the Peters had told him.

He was going to make time for Peter Parker.

With that thought, he wiped his palms on his pants once more before going over to her.

“Uh, hi.” He greeted her with a small smile and wave before clearing his throat because he knows he sounds like a prepubescent teenager talking to his crush, and continued. “Hi, I was passing and saw you were moving without any help and was wondering if I could offer some.” He internally cringed at how he was talking to her, he was admittedly out of practice.

She smiled lightly while nodding her head. “That would be great actually. I’ve been struggling with these boxes for a bit, thank you.”

Peter nodded at her in response before picking up one of the boxes. “Lead the way.”

────────────────────────────────────────────

They made their way to the third floor before she stopped, put her box down, pulled out her keys and unlocked her door. She stepped out of the way to let Peter inside first before making her way inside with her last box.

“You can put it anywhere, obviously I’m not very particular about box placement.” She placed her box on the kitchen counter as she voiced this to Peter, and he made his way over to her and put his next to it.

He looked back at the various boxes scattered about the room before speaking. “Did you move all of these up here by yourself?”

Letting out a light laugh she responded. “Yeah, I didn’t have anyone helping me so it has taken me way too long. I was planning on unpacking some tonight but that is not gonna happen now.”

“I could help if you wanted.” Peter offered, part of him hoping she’d say yes, but another part hoping she’d say no.

“Oh no it’s okay. I feel bad I even took up the whole six minutes of your time already so you’re free to go.”

She and Peter walked to the door and he noticed the number emblazoned on the door. “3C, I’m one floor above 4C if you ever need anything. I know it’s always nice to have someone just in case when you’re moving in. I didn’t have that, all I had was this crotchety old woman who hated my guts so..” he trailed off while looking away, really wishing a hole would just swallow him up on the spot for being so awkward. But instead of grimacing or cringing, the woman smiled and thanked him.

“I’m Peter, by the way.” He stuck out his hand.

“I’m Marilyn.” She took his hand and shook it, before saying goodbye and seeing him off.

Marilyn.

Peter never thought a name would ever sound so sweet on his tongue.

series masterlist

[skellebonez]

Hmmm how about MK and Monkie King with number 1 and number 45

I wanted to write a follow up to a certain fill that got some wonderful art recently too! But then the finale happened and now I made it depressing, sorry. Spoilers for... everything as this is set 3 days after the final episode. This also plays around with the “Sun Wukong is still super immortal and powerful but...” and other theories. (second prompt line is only used as inspiration in fill)

Do not give me that look./ You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

The moment MK's curse was lifted and he was re-aged from 4 years old to adult Wukong acted like nothing had happened at all. No understanding conversations about how his powers could hurt him, no cooking together, no video games, and no accidental couch naps. It was as if the entire day had been undone to the sands of time.

But MK remembered and when the literal next day Wukong announced he was going on vacation... let's just say he was not happy in the slightest. He had tried to voice his objections, citing the Spider Queen as a prime example for why they should be worried, but the immortal monkey just flashed him dual thumbs up with a “Monkey King Out!” and flashed off somewhere MK couldn’t follow.

And now he was back and while MK had been more than happy to get going at first, to push everything that happened deep down inside him and ignore it for as long as possible (why was he doing that, he needed to stop doing that, look where that got them he was a mistake a bad choice as a successor and now he’s barely a successor at all) there was only so long he could go before it became clear there was more wrong than what Sun Wukong was telling him.

There was more wrong with Sun Wukong himself that he refused to admit.

He tried to hide it as well as he could. Despite the heat outside and the fur covering his body he still wore full body clothing. Hiding away the gashes and healing scars that riddled his form now. There was a nick in his eyebrow that had never gone away, and when MK watched closely he could see his mentor sometimes place his hand too far to the left when grabbing something. He walked with a slight limp, though that had improved over the last few days.

And he was quiet. Yes, when someone was addressing him he was “yeah totally, we got this fam, onward westward!”, but when MK caught him alone... especially outside on the deck of the drone, watching the horizon, he was more quiet and still than the Monkie Kid had ever seen him before.

Or maybe he was always like this and now Wukong was too hurt or distracted enough or just didn’t care anymore that MK was finally seeing him.

It was hard to tell with how distant he had been the last three days. Distant in the same way the day after the curse was lifted, but quieter.

“We need to talk,” He said from behind his mentor, watching as Wukong’s tail jumped only a little. Maybe that was just surprise at the words themselves. “Alone. Please.”

He expected Wukong to brush him off, to say “aw bud, can’t it wait? look at the sunset!” despite the sun having set so far they barely had any light left or something else. But instead he straightened up (MK heard the slight crack of his back again, much softer than when he had first heard it after their crash landing, and he wondered how much his back had healed from whatever injury it had) and turned to his student with an odd expression. Somewhat soft and fond and somewhat worried and resigned. Like this was more than just 3 days coming (and it was).

“Let’s... get something to eat first, alright?”

MK didn’t mention that they had eaten just over an hour ago.

~

They sat in the kitchen of the drone, alone under the dimmed lights with cups of tea and sliced fruit between them (mostly for Wukong). Neither had said anything as they prepared the small snack, and neither said anything as they sat down and took sips of their tea.

MK had made it slightly too strong.

“What did you want to ask first?” Wukong started off, picking up a peach slice and biting into it carefully. Slowly. This was something else that was noticed. Before when eating the Monkey King would just shove whatever he was eating in his mouth and MK wasn't certain he tasted it. But now it was like he was trying to make every meal last as long as possible. “There’s... a lot. I can tell.”

“We spent an entire day together and then you left without telling me anything,” MK said firmly, gripping the tea cup in his hands. He squeezed harder, just to see what would happen. It should have shattered... it didn’t. “Why didn’t you just... say something?”

“... I thought I was protecting you,” Wukong admitted honestly, taking another bite of peach. “And the city, the others...  That if I acted distant you wouldn’t wonder where I went a-”

“Wouldn’t wonder wh- no!” MK interrupted, gritting his teeth. “No, Monkey K- Wukong.” The change in how MK addressed him made Wukong jolt, looking at him with wide eyes. He had never called him by his name before now. “We spent an entire day together. You took care of me, helped me when my powers went haywire, helped me make food! You never treated me like that before! You treated me like... Like I was...”

“My kid,” Wukong finished for him, now looking down into his tea cup. “MK... You’re an adult, I know that, but somewhere down the line I started to think of you as... I didn’t know till then I guess, and that terrified me. The idea of you getting hurt that day was the only thing that compared to admitting I got attached to you as more than just my student.”

Had this revelation come sooner MK might have been more surprised. More disbelieving. But after that day and everything that happened once the curse was gone...

“... you have a funny way of showing it,” MK snapped without thinking, eyes widening and jolting upright when he realized what he had said. “I-”

“Don’t,” Wukong said with a shake of his head, sipping his tea with a sigh. “You deserve to be angry with me. I talked to, uh... Pigsy? Sandy too. Tang.... Mei. Your boss in particular laid into me pretty hard after the excitement died down... Don’t know how I went 1000 years without knowing what a ‘lie by omission’ was.”

“... you abandoned me.”

“Yes... I didn’t mean it that way, but that doesn’t change that I did.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“NO.” Wukong said firmly, voice raised for the first time in days. MK glowered at him. “No, that is one thing I will not back down on. Yes, I lied to you and left you behind and that was a mistake I will need to make up for over a long time, but it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. I trusted you to take care of yourself, to teach yourself the lessons I left behind, and take care of the city. And you did! You did so much better than I even hoped for, and I hoped so badly that you would do as well as you did! I didn’t leave you there because I didn’t trust you, I left you there because I did... and because I thought I had to do everything myself...” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “I’ve been alone so long... I forgot I could do things with help on my end, I guess...”

“If... If Lady Bone Demon hadn’t finished what she was doing...?”

“Had the Lady Bone Demon not been working faster than I thought she was I would have come back with nothing less than even more trust in you as my successor.”

“... am I even still your successor without...?” MK trailed off, trying to keep his voice level. The tea cup still held strong.

“Yes,” Wukong assured, reaching out to put a hand on MK’s shoulder. MK noticed how he almost missed and corrected his hand. “The staff and my powers alone didn’t make you my successor. I picked you before those, remember? You’re still the Monkie Kid, MK. Nothing is going to change that for me.”

The young man went quiet for a moment, taking a shaky breath. He wanted to ask why he was chosen, what made him so special... but there would be time for that in the future. For now he had gotten at least some of his questions answered. But there was something much more pressing to touch on.

“,,, you’ve been lying to all of us,” he accused suddenly, reaching up and grabbing the wrist of Wukong’s hand on his shoulder before he could pull back. He looked his mentor in the face, watching as Wukong’s eyes widened in realization and horror. “Do not give me that look. Stop... please, stop lying. I’m not stupid, I can see you’re still hurt bad. You’re supposed to be invincible but you came back hurt and... and almost nothing can hurt you!”

Wukong didn’t meet MK’s gaze, looking down at their snack as he breathed heavily and shakily. He knew he was caught, that much was obvious.

“Please... talk to me, for once. I know I do the same thing, I lied to everyone else by not telling them about LBD or the calabash or Macaque coming back-” Wukong tensed at that, an odd sound escaping his throat. “-and look where it got us. We both need to talk. To everyone else. To each other.”

Wukong’s arm was shaking where MK held it, but he didn’t try to pull it back. Not until MK let it go. He sat back down, looking at the table like it held all the secrets of the universe before bringing his hand up to cover his eye. The one with the nicked eyebrow.

“Bud...” Wukong started, biting his lip. There was something wrong in his tone. “I... you were going to find out eventually. I can’t keep this up forever, not like Macaque can.” MK tensed at the mention of the other immortal monkey, watching as Wukong did not move his hand. “This takes a lot of focus. And... with my invincibility partly gone-”

“What?” MK asked, so soft he thought Wukong hadn’t heard him.

“... You didn’t get my powers from the staff, MK,” Wukong said. “And they don’t just duplicate. That’s not how they work. From day one I have been... siphoning my powers to you. Bit by bit. As you got better at controlling them I would give you more until I felt I didn’t need them myself anymore. When I locked away your invincibility I just undid what I had given you and slowed down the transfer... you’d been half invincible for weeks.”

“No...” MK started, slowly realizing what Wukong was implying. “No, no you’re lying again! This is a terrible, horrible prank!” Despite wanting to be quiet before MK found himself yelling. “Say you’re still lying!”

“No,” Wukong shook his head, looking down at the scar on his arm that was now visible as his sleeve had slipped down. “Most of this will probably heal eventually, except maybe one thing, and I’m still immortal! There’s no undoing that no matter what I do. I’m not dying any time soon. But my transformations? Cloning? My cloud...” He trailed off at that, breaking in a shaky breath. “You didn’t even get to use that... Lady Bone Demon took all of it when she took it from you. I still have some powers, some of my transformations and hair stuff and some invincibility... but I’m not the same overpowered Monkey King you met when you freed DBK...”

And as he trailed off, Wukong lowered his hand. Something flickered, something familiar. Too familiar. Reminiscent of Macaque’s shadows but brighter. And after there was something else reminiscent. In reverse.

MK had only seen it for a split second, when all of Macaque’s glamor magic had dropped. The milky white right eye and the scar over it that was left behind from his battle with Wukong 500 years ago.

And now Wukong looked at him with a similarly white left eye, a similar scar that wasn’t just a nicked eyebrow running down his face.

It makes sense in retrospect, much more. MK supposed that when you lose an eye you lose depth perception and it takes a while to get used to judging where things are.

“... what happened before you came in to save me?” MK asked quietly, watching as more of the glamor fell with a curse from Wukong. There was another nick on his cheek that was still healing, a piece of one of his ears had been ripped off too. No doubt there were more injuries under his clothes that Wukong hadn’t let anyone see.

“She has Macaque under her control,” Wukong said plainly, groaning as he held his head. “Damn, that... letting that down...” He groaned again and before MK could realize what was happening Wukong’s eyes rolled back into his head and he slipped from his chair to the floor.

“WUKONG!” MK shot up, rushing over to his side and yelling over his shoulder in the hopes someone would hear. “Pigsy! D-DADSY! Help, SOMETHING’S WRONG!”

When Pigsy rushed in with the others in tow Wukong hadn't regained consciousness.

[blankdblank]

The White Dove Pt 20 - Memories and Mysteries

Full Masterlist here - Got some really cool bits in this chapter and some pretty amazing bits to come with ample more new faces to add to this story. 

As always since this is meant to be a prequel feedback is always helpful. Got stuck on ch 30 for a good bit in my own head as I’ve been trying to not overpower the original flow and intention of the series, especially as I add in more from other versions of Spider-Man universes to get to use my favorite bits. (Except for Harry from Amazing Universe as I needed him to be an annoying little narcissistic twerp and not Franco’s more empathetic version for me.)

...

....

“I wished to thank you,” the familiar voice of the Ancient One who had come out of nowhere turned your head from watching a bird daringly creep to the end of a weak branch for a bit of food. “Normally in these matters for the protection of the time stream we repair the damage. Nine others were taken through that tear the machine opened up, who were easily rescued. I chose myself to fetch you, due to our prior meeting I presumed a familiar face could help matters. However I came upon you in discovery of a way to return, so we chose to grant you a chance to follow through your plan, and thankfully the manner upon which you returned to the present healed the tear negating our need to continue the time loop for everyone else while you were away.”

“You, you made the time loop?” you asked in a soft tone.

“Oh yes, to have left the tear open would have invited some rather unsavory characters to take advantage of such weakness our planet was faced with at the moment.”

After a brief nod you said, “I suppose I should be confident that if you can manipulate time and you had faith in me I must be on the right track with my studies.”

Softly she chuckled and answered, “Not many could have interpreted those markings on the casing of the tesseract in the manner you had. Were you shopping?” Curious about why you were alone in the park.

“No, waiting for screams,” you said turning her head making you smirk slightly, “My brother is a journalist, occasionally he has me run lookout. Were I to hear screams I have an alarm to trigger.” Softly she chuckled and you said, “Not certain, by your robes if you celebrate, but are you having a merry Yule?”

The term had a grin ease across her lips, “My, it has been a long time since anyone has mentioned Yule to me. I am Celtic with very few reminders of the home I lost long ago.”

At her you grinned saying, “A fellow Pagan,” making her chuckle to your amused giggle, “You’re the first I’ve met, well, I don’t know if some of my friends from the summer count, them being Asgardian and all.”

“I would count them as Pagan,” she said and you looked her face over again, “You are quite skilled with your magic, mastering it all on your own. Not just anyone could have repaired time and left as little damage to the past as you had. Entrusting another magical being and leaving only intrigue in Howard Stark, who would have only honed in on every minute detail of the encounter. I wouldn’t wager SHIELD would have a record on you have you not researched their databases yet.”

“I read about the explosion and forest minimally before our trip to the southern Americas. I suppose had I known more I would have made more damage. What did I break?”

With a pleased grin she answered, “Aside from the flock of Chickadees out of place in Texas who refuse to migrate there was a horse care encircled company one of those boys to whom you gave that silver dollar to created after your interaction.”

“Oh, he’s not some villain now is he?” Making her chuckle.

“No, actually his grandson has improved a variety of medications for equine care. Truly you planted the seed for the love of horses within his bloodline, quite admirable, granted him a dream to get him through the war to not be so depressed on the road to ruin and despair. So, not damage so much as you left seeds of intrigue. They also abducted Tony Stark.”

“That would have been disastrous,” you said making her chuckle again.

“He was the first we removed. Made a bee line straight for his father armed to the gills in the middle of the Cold War.”

“He would have set off a nuclear winter, can’t imagine them in the same room together, that would be dangerous.”

“I shall leave you now to the task at hand, in all things there is one fact upon which we can hold to. We must always strive to be a constant within uncertainty. No matter the view of others, we must hold firm, even when others would declare us wicked.” Your eyes looked up at hers, “I might not know the intricacies of your past or motivation, however I can see the corrupt. Each of us must find our own paths, I am proud to know mine has veered within view of yours. Had we been born of the same age this could be a friendship to savor for lifetimes to come.”

“At least now I seem to be capable of maintaining friendships without being the one to put my friends in the grave.”

To herself she chuckled and replied, “I swear to you, you will not be responsible by any means of the moment of my death.”

“That’s not as comforting as you imagine it to be,” you said making her chuckle again and turn to stroll off.

“A Bountiful Yule to yourself.” Echoed from her the words faded into noises of the park around you. The bird again in the tree in search of the elusive snack drew your eye to cover her vanish into a new portal out of the same spot she had arrived from.

.

“Got it,” Eddie said having snuck out of the office Venom helped him get into. “Any trouble on your end?” he asked at the footprints in the snow at your side that simply stopped not far away.

“The Ancient One,”

“Ah, monk lady,” he said with a nod.

“Apparently they were behind the time loop, kept the universe safe while I found my way back, the atom connected to the mechanism healed the tear the first machine created.”

“That is both impressive and agitating.” He replied after a moment.

“Apparently they were busy finding Tony Stark, who was also abducted and chose to head straight for his dad, as Iron Man during the Cold War.”

“That is terrifying,” he muttered.

“Exactly what I said,” you giggled, “Apparently he took up plenty of attention and my creating Chickadee’s legend and giving breadcrumbs for Howard to map the element wasn’t terribly damaging so they decided to give me a chance to get myself home. What would you get a man who sold his sold his soul to the Devil then outran him to keep from giving him too much power for a gift?”

“Cowboy, right?”

“Texas Ranger.” You answered and he cocked his head to the side.

“Let’s go see what’s open.” Luring a grin across your face in the start of a shopping trip that had you later in your apartment boxing up a leather jacket and a cow patterned tea kettle with matching mug set. To replace the spotty one you guessed he still might be limping along with these decades later paired with a ceramic chickadee figurine then turned your focus to what Eddie had found. Antique mother of pearl handled dueling pistols in a far from valuable state that to your skill with weapons were pristine again with holsters around the wooden case to be added inside the box. Just tape and an address confirmed by one of your bees that he was still there had the package off to be over-nighted to your still shovel wielding friend.

 *.*.*

Almost 80 years inside the same cottage, and huffing to a singed thumb off his kettle still staggering along on its last leg, Carter Slade turned the volume up a bit more on his radio. Glad to have another day beyond the time loop. Mid sip of his coffee the squeak of brakes had him walk to his window and shift the curtain to see a package delivery van outside.

“Hmm,” he said leaving his metal handle free mug on the counter littered with yet to be read editions of papers out of New York a friend had sent him. The wall behind him with shelves of books and scrapbooks alike held stands of magazines and framed clippings and images of a long since seen friend with many faces and names. From those with Bucky and one with Howard Stark drinking and playing poker for those as Chickadee and several more without that alias. Tabs had been kept from afar and became a calming hobby for his worries for their safety.

“Carter Slade?” the driver asked in an uncertain tone, “Please tell me I’m in the right place. Don’t get many cemeteries on the route.”

“I am, and you are.” Carter replied and gained a relieved huff in return as the visitor strolled across the snowy path. Watching as a particularly sizable box was brought out of the back of the van to be carried over to the designated recipient. Carter held that with one arm propped on his hip to sign the confirmation of delivery form by means of a matte grey slate on the end of a handheld device with the stylus provided. “Thank you. Happy Holidays,”

“Happy Holidays,” the man replied and looked around when he turned around.

“Take a right at the headless angel and a left at the marble tiger, take you back out to the main road.” Carter said in a turn of his own.

Nodding as the man replied gladly, “Thank you.”

Back to his cottage he walked catching sight of Banshee, to whom he rumbled as the van drove away, “Wonder who sent us a box old boy.” Inside he went to settle the box on the table and flicked a knife from the sheath on his hip he used to slice through the tape then sheathed again. Laid against the sides the freed flaps were pressed to make the man smile at the shipping sheet inside, upon which the sender was named, “Pluto Pear.” Chuckling to himself he set that aside and read your note inside a bird themed card.

‘Hey Caretaker,

I do hope you are doing well. Just back myself, hope the time loop was not too hard on you and Banshee, how some people I know kept the world from tearing apart while me and others were gone. I am not exactly certain the right things to say.

It’s not much, but I imagine you might be in need of a few things, the rest aside from one might prove more useful than fun. Then again you never seemed the one to have a flat screen tv and be up for a box set of films. If you are, let me know, been building a list of a few favorites I have discovered since I got loose.

To you Carter and Banshee I wish a bountiful Yule and Happy New Year,

Always your friend,

Chickadee’

Low chuckles escaped him in unfolding the newspaper used to wrap the chickadee figurine he added to his bookshelves, then came the holsters and pistols he inspected feeling these were more a gift for his Rider. His other half who expressed great glee in the anticipation of first use of his own gift. Setting that aside he brought out the wrapped kettle and mugs his smile split wider in moving to the sink to wash before using, just leaving the jacket for last he eased on, pleased at the perfect fit.

Out the uncovered window he locked eyes with Banshee to say, “Banshee, we’re going to New York to give an old friend a gift.” Excitedly the horse whinnied and paced around outside in the snow while Carter readied a bag. Over Banshee’s back secured to the saddle the shotgun and holsters loaded with the gifted pistols were tied, straight to the airport he went, knowing he could not take his weapons onboard, his steed would keep them safe while Carter flew across the country.

 *.*.*

 “Might I trouble you a moment?” A gravely croon you would know anywhere turned your head with a splitting smile from the display of books you were assembling to the standard of the author for a book available in the morning people at the counter up front left and right were snatching up reservation cards to have theirs saved for them out of the first shipment.

Carter Slade saw your sweater and jean clad self in boots tied over thick socks to your knee covering slices in the lower half of the jeans, to him seemed more suited for work than your having to go to fight in a dress and heels as you’d been forced to.

Into the pocket of your apron you slipped the again folded sheets of notes on specifications to face your old friend who smirked at being noted to be wearing his new jacket you gave him. Settled in his palm was a book he showed to you, “Any more books on birds? Have an odd one in the graveyard keeps coming around, can’t source it.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a picture?” Out of his pocket he pulled a polaroid he showed you making you smirk and show him to the section on nature. The proper book on the obnoxiously loud bird was handed to him. “Glad it fits,” you said making him chuckle and lock his eyes on yours again.

“As am I, tore my old one, and thanks to you I have burned my thumb the last time for my morning brew. Rider appreciates the pistols too. Took some work to get them shining again, he can tell by the look of the case, and the figurine is adorable. Thank you, brought you a gift too, outside with Banshee. Don’t need to understand him to know hugs from me didn’t come close to enough.”

“I just have to finish the display, then I’m off.”

“Small park a block over, take your time. No need to rush. I’ve got plenty of it.” He said making you chuckle in his path to the register with his choice of books.

.

Two days since Christmas and usually crowded streets were gradually gaining more and more bodies by the hour the closer to noon, unlike the seemingly noise free pocket of a growing garden for the community that fed into an open walkway filled park. Atop a bench he waited, with a plaid blanket wrapped bundle his hands rested upon and the book he purchased open to read up on his noisy neighbor. “Do you want to befriend it or scare it away?”

The book was shut and he said, “Befriend it, I think. But he is bothering the mocking jay on the other side of my place. Been nice for the families to not see only crows in the graveyard.” At his side he set the book as you sat down to lift the blanket wrapped bundle, “Before you try going about apologizing or making up for how we said goodbye, open up your present.” Softly you chuckled and he rumbled, “You’re not so easy to shop for either, half useful half fun, with a dash of mystery.”

Gently the top fold of the blanket was eased back to reveal the top half of a fox fur bag that had you let out an awed scoff before you folded the rest back. Clearly it wasn’t used or cheap either, the designer bag was checkered patches of orange, grey and white fox fur. “This is a Prada bag.”

“Well, I’ve had some decades to save up. Hardly none of the bag companies make a decent fox fur bag like the one you have, and this was the only one with ample pockets.” He said making you giggle excitedly. “This old dog’s got ears on him.” At him you smiled and then looked down to tilt the bag upright and lift the snap to reveal the hidden zipper revealing leather bound scrapbooks and plastic wrapped magazines.

“What is this?” you asked easing it all out to lay on top of the bag widening your smile curiously at the word ‘Chickadee’ etched into the front cover you opened with lips parting at the first of many articles on your older persona making him smile proudly at you.

“You know, I’ve been around for some centuries before we met, and I have to say, the eight decades since are the best yet. Rarely do I get to watch a legend grow. Now I have my own copies, but I’ve kept tabs. How it all grew, people coming to that little town asking how it all happened to those aiming to find answers on some supernatural level.”

Page to page you flipped for ones he wanted to show you his favorites until he eased the book shut and brought out the first of the plastic wrapped magazines. “And this one, might be of particular interest to you.” He said as you unsealed the plastic to bring out the boxing magazine dated as covering the championship.

Like a time capsule every page was detailed with information on the tournament until it came to Bucky’s information followed by a picture of your meeting. Mention of a mystery woman noted to have died in the explosive change of the city, by word of Howard Stark, photographed again smiling in equally as happy Bucky’s arms on the dance floor. “They wrote about us?” You asked glancing at him and he nodded turning your focus to another magazine covering Bucky’s death as well with a cover tagline depicting two lovers being reunited in the afterlife. “Oh wow,” you muttered making him chuckle.

“Quite the story it’s evolved into. Most of it fluff to sell tickets for tours around your park. Every now and again I go up to mess with the tourists to ride around for some flashy pictures keeping the tale alive. Some say Chickadee and Barnes are alive and hiding inside that barrier in their own private Eden. People leave tokens, come to just be around it when they want a story to believe in.” Up at him you looked and he said, “So imagine their surprise when Misique comes on the horizon. Bona fide grandbaby to seal the nail in the coffin they ran off and had a super powered baby together, same barrier, same mushroom clouds that generate not obliterate. Now Misique’s got family, internet is picking up on it since the trip you took.”

“That’s an interesting twist,” you muttered.

“Though this one,” he said bringing out from inside his book the playbill on you dancing in the Nutcracker and magazine on creating the Blackhowls made you giggle and accept it and the pen he drew out of a pocket. “This one’s for me. Got a few friends out here who send me copies when your names pop up.” In a clear spot you signed them as he said, “Knew it would take some genius to show Stark a thing or two. Turns out you did a sort of dance of your own, you learn from his future, which you shaped, he sees you do one thing and it changes his career forever solidifying him worldwide as a genius. Stark rode your coattails to billions.”

“Flattering as that is it means they could have been inspired by my forest to make the atom bomb.” His arm bumped yours breaking the serious look that flinched across your face.

“Men are bound to take a bushel of ideas and see what makes the biggest boom. That atom, he couldn’t make it and the atom bomb was the closest they got. Nuclear power is the closest they got to what one man saw you do all on your own, no tools, just you. No matter what they’ve said about Misique, you are so much bigger than that, they will blow this place to bits but like the Rider, you tip the scales and restore balance.”

A chime of a clock from the bank that turned his head had you ask, “In town just for today?”

“No,” he said with a chuckle, “Friend of mine by the name of Johnny Blaze let me stay in his place out here. He’s flying in later, said he’d get me tickets to his show, you wanna meet him? I can get a ticket for your brother too, want him to meet you.”

“Am I right in guessing how you met?” you giggled out making him chuckle.

“Newest Ghost Rider. By far the dumbest by what I can tell.”

“So four of you now then? Take it he doesn’t have a horse,” you said smiling in Banshee’s head dropping over your shoulder after his materialization behind you out of impatience. Eager for you to hug and stroke his head and cuddle back against his tiny friend, enjoying the attention and conversation.

“Nope, motorcycle, ape hangars, with flames.”

“Not nearly as fun or majestic,” you said smiling at Banshee’s head leaning more into your chest making him smile wider in a low chuckle.

“Nope. But, he’s dumb enough to have promise. And he’ll be back in my territory so I can keep an eye on him and not let him spoil your city.” Apples for Banshee were manifested inside your bag to offer him before a tight hug was given to Carter when you both stood up. “And no thank you’s for the gifts. Don’t do thank you’s or sorry’s today. Not from you. I will get your number if you’ll let me,” out of his jeans pocket he brought a sidekick phone like yours but in black and grey that had you smile wider to his comment of, “Got a sliding phone and everything. Came with Pacman on it, couldn’t resist.” Into that you saved your number and a promise to see one another for the show and dinner after.

.

 Blissful Afterlife, Together Forever, Star-crossed Lovers, just a few of the terms liked to Chickadee’s ghost and Barnes’ name. Countless articles on top of this magazine edition based solely upon the iconic doomed couple resembling others like Bonnie and Clyde, Hamlet and Ophelia or Romeo and Juliet quoted various sources. This one contained quotes from Bucky himself and his family members.

‘Q- We noticed you not only won the championship, but also made a connection with a certain young lady.

A- “Impossible,” Barnes chuckled to himself in a smooth of his hand over the back of his neck. “Only word I can think of for her. Had I not met her before the tournament I’d just have assumed I dreamed her up from a blow to the head. She, Chickadee, young woman like her, you don’t just meet, you don’t just find them like others just milling about. There’s a haze, like in those stories wandering into some forbidden forest, a mist, and there she is. Like you’re the one not meant to be there, cuz you can’t be, she’s impossible, I’m possible. And all I’ve been asked since is what do I think? Is she really gone?” Barnes shakes his head in another chuckle, “One day, I’m gonna turn a corner and she’s gonna be there. I know, somewhere on every dance floor, every hotel lobby, she’s inevitable. One day I’m gonna turn a corner and she’s gonna be there. Can’t tell me otherwise.”’

Just a picture of Bucky smiling proudly in his uniform amongst that quotation was a near tear stirring tale of his passing.

‘Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th Infantry is now marching amongst his fallen brothers in arms up to those pearly gates. We remember him with great solace but unimpeachable joy in the fact that upon reaching those gates he will turn a final corner to find his treasured Chickadee there. Ready to offer a hand and from that moment forever to be entangled in his arms the pair shall dance to the beat of their destiny.’ Again that smiling picture finished off the article with the dates of the lovers deaths.

A chuckle over your shoulder had you lift up off the counter in the candle shop you were manning the front while others were on lunch alerting you to Mariah who had a basket of candles she had been choosing with gradual looks and steps your way since she had entered. “Studying up on old magazines?” She asked in a playfully curious tone to not let on she knew the man in the picture who from pictures you had given had a past with you recorded by SHIELD.

“Oh, a friend I met in Texas gave me this,” you said showing her the magazine she set the basket down on the counter to read the whole article.

“This looks just like you,” she said and stole a glance up at you between pages. The nickname of the woman sparking up memory of a highly questionable file within SHIELD’s records Howard’s son had been delving into lately to both get answers on his father and Misique’s assumed mother.

And you forced out a giggle to say, “Oh yes, just me, built a time machine just to go back and dance Captain America’s best friend,” the comment had her chuckle and you said, “I don’t know. Apparently Howard Stark got the notion to stumble across the atom bomb technology by watching her mushroom cloud but he gets all the credit for all of that and Chickadee gets a tragic love story.”

“Well it’s certainly not fair. This is well known in Texas?” She asked with a brow ticking up a moment hoping to learn more on the mysterious figure.

“This town, the Welterweight Championship was held there, then the war kicked off not long after. Now I suppose if she was there to fight with the Howling Commandoes might be more than just an old love story of a woman who exploded into a sea of chickadees like another article says. And my friend found hundreds of them.”

The words you said absently caused her brow to twitch mid break of her grin she fought to bring back out to not concern you at the major secretive wartime actions of said fabled doomed heroine. She closed the magazine taking note of the brand and issue date and watched you ring up the candles she had chosen. “At the time I think a good tale of a soldier finding peace after falling in war would have helped the mood back home. Especially considering it was Captain America’s best friend, and the Cap had just gone down in the ice.” She caught your glance back at the magazine and asked, “You think he’s cute?”

That had you giggle and roll your eyes, “The man taught me to box, fly, parachute and dive,” you said parting her lips, “Told the Cap as much and,” you shook your head, “He’s got nice eyes, but he’s more like a brother if anything. I’m a bit surprised they haven’t even tried to track him down yet if Cap cared so much about him.”

“How is he supposed to find a supposedly dead man?” She asked.

“Think like a dead man. I mean, motivation, necessities, and goals. Start from there and work your way backwards.”

“We don’t exactly get training on how to think like dead men in our military systems.”

After tilting your head to the side you replied with a breathy chuckle, “Suppose it takes a dead person to know one. My whole entire past is a graveyard it seems.” In another glance up at her you said with a grin, “Part of my therapy is not dwelling in denial. Brutal honesty only stings for a while with an open wound. But don’t worry, after lunch I’m going to break into my history of ship building and seafaring in relation to fishing patterns. I think I have a hunch on the ocean floor I want to work on.”

“And, you learn that by a book on boats and fishing?”

“Yes, ocean has layers, you have to take the surface, weather, underwater currents, effects of landmasses upon plant life and the species there. Then you add migratory patterns and territories of creatures, water characteristics,” you said smiling wider a bit realizing you were rambling. “There’s a lot of variables, simply put. Have to add in all the formulas to get the proper answer.”

“What’s the hunch?” She asked with an intrigued smirk.

“Treasure hunting, I suppose you could say,” you said letting out a giggle making her chuckle. “There’s a legendary ship a friend mentioned. I want to try and help him find it.”

“For the treasure inside of it?”

“Ship is the treasure,” you said securing the bow to hold the top of the bag together she lifted. One of a kind, more rumor than fact, but if we could find it, be bigger than the discovery of the Titanic.”

“How?” she asked unable to move.

“Odin’s brother Vili is said to have traveled here upon it for a mighty battle to conquer the great forces wishing to drain the continents of their nutrients and the waters of the world. The ship was lost, but him and his younger brother Ve were victorious, and were returned home upon golden chariots driven by Pegasus steeds the Valkyrie forces sent to fetch them.”

“Thor has been to Earth you know, so you’re saying there could be a spaceship buried on the ocean floor?”

“Doubt it, by the inscriptions I have seen there is no enclosed deck to the ship. More a winged glider than much else.” You said luring out a grin from her. A phone call however urged her away and back into its protective sleeve you settled the magazine you put away and looked up to see Harry Osborn enter with a widening grin.

Right up to your counter he walked to state, “My dad is throwing a New Years party, and we need some candles. Something, light and not too overpowering. Figured you’d know best. We’d need quite a deal of them? Are you free? We plan on outdoing Stark this year. Even invited Johnny Blaze, saw you went to his last show.”

“I can’t stay to ten if it’s a late night bash. A friend actually is having me and my brother at theirs, have bit of a wild goose chase of an evening set up for us. Have to patch some things since the night of the loop for them.” You said widening his grin as you had to relent to some sort of party eventually. It had been a while since the last lunch you had agreed to his father crashed in a ploy to reinforce his future offer of a job when you graduated, and share his notice of your last project and others he had been keeping track of.

It always seemed to be more of a job interview. And just as you expected with little food you could actually enjoy to the small talk of the party prior to, and a bit after, the inedible supper offered you played your part and with Eddie wished the father and son a happy New Year on your way out to the truly planned evening.

Five Symbiotes in all around yourself an old score meant to be settled the night of the loop was put off now had been righted. And when they had split to head home atop a bench near a bridge in Manhattan you sat listening to the sounds of the ocean and the distant city with Venom at your side.

Straight up Venom’s eyes snapped to follow the path of a ship that into the field behind you came to park. Peter Quill out of the lower hatch with eyes shifting all around crept onto the snowy ground aiming himself straight for the only two people in sight.

“Psst,” he whispered and you stole a glance at Venom and looked back at the vintage red leather jacket and t shirt clad man with some odd variation of cargo pants and boots you didn’t recognize.

“Did space man just psst us?” you whispered.

“It would appear so, Sister. That is a Ravager ship.” Venom answered.

“Ah, more of them.” You muttered and looked over the still crouching stranger aimed your way. A bit louder you asked, “Why are you walking like that? You’ve got a Ziggy Stardust shirt on, clearly not your first time here.”

“The ships,” he said and you shrugged making him gesture at the sky, “Last time I came there were three ships invading the planet.”

“Oh, right, ya that wasn’t an invasion.” You replied making him pause then hurry the rest of the few feet to crouch behind the back of the bench.

“What do you mean no invasion? I saw them firing on Earth!” He snapped back at you.

“No, see, there was this plan, called Project Insight, meant to protect Earth from criminals, sort of an ‘immediate reaction’ from the outermost ring of the atmosphere to cut down crime and threats,” you said gaining a nod from him. “Only there’s a seedy underbelly of a criminal organization here who wanted control of it, and it got hacked before they could when the ships launched, and all at once millions of criminals in and out of prison were wiped out. No invasion. They scrapped the project since and the ships were grounded.”

“So, Earth isn’t at war then?” he asked hopefully.

“I mean there’s always a skirmish somewhere, but as far as an intergalactic war, no. You said you came on the Ravager ship that flew up the day that happened?” Distantly one of your bees picked up Stark’s suit on its way to your location.

“Ya, my team they tied me up to stop us from helping. Insisted on protecting our cargo we’d just picked up.” He answered.

“Well I should warn you, they don’t believe the criminal organization was able to handle the hack, and the only other suspect was your ship.”

“But we didn’t do it,” he said shaking his head and you pointed to a growing bright dot warning of Stark’s path for you.

“See, that’s Iron Man, and well, he’s sort of SHIELD’s attack dog. He thinks you did it and spent about two years so far trying to kill me without proof or reason to do so. And well, you just landed a ship on the planet unannounced and are talking to me, so that’s three strikes against you so far on his scoreboard.”

“I mean,” he let out a breathy chuckle, “He’ll hear me out, right?”

Venom shook his head, “That would not be wise. Next visit perhaps warn ahead of time.”

“I,” he sighed and said, “Just, tell him I didn’t do it! I’m from Earth! Peter Quill! February 4th, 1962! I was taken by Ravagers, I’d never hurt Earth!” Fast and hard you gripped him by the shoulder to tug him to his right narrowly avoiding a blast aimed at his face. Onto his feet he scrambled, “Thank you, tell them!”

“Will do,” Venom said for Eddie.

Halfway back to his ship he paused asking, “I don’t know your names, what are they?!”

“Misique, Venom,” he repeated after you said them and leapt inside his ship that he powered up and launched to the highest rate or propulsion possible without damaging the ground around it just leaving Stark to halt in a furious hover.

“Spill it Bee!”

“That was Peter Quill, he said he was on the Ravager ship that showed up day of the blip-,”

“And you let him go?!” Tony cut you off.

“Said he was born here, February 4th, 1962,”

“What was the name again?” Tony asked and as you repeated the name he had Jarvis search the databases catching a clear match of a missing child.

“Said he was taken by Ravagers, didn’t specify when, but he was asking about the alien invasion.”

That had Stark land, “Alien invasion?”

“Asked us to tell you he says they weren’t involved, they were hauling a load nearby Earth and saw what he thought was an invasion. Still considers this his home planet and wanted to know about it. Pretty odd but he had an Eddie Murphy jacket, the red leather one and a Ziggy Stardust t shirt on. Unless they sell those in space somewhere.”

Stark opened his visor naming the readout on a missing child under that identity and looked you both over, “And you don’t know him?”

You both shook your heads and Venom said, “We were alone, fairly low risk encounter for one who does not dwell here to inquire information upon the safety of a planet.”

“Nice Badassium core,” you said to Stark making him look you over for what you meant by it. “Looks new.”

“Yes, there was an explosion on the night of the loop, a friend of a friend discovered an atom of it. Handed it over to us.”

“Looks brighter.” You said keeping the giggles you wanted to let free locked inside.

“It is,” he said nodding at the awkward encounter, “All the readings outperform my initial core, just giving it a test drive on performance.” Up from his side his arm rose to point at you both, “Behave tonight.”

“Happy New Year,” you both said pausing his turn to fly away.

“Happy New Year,” he replied snappily urging his mask shut then clicked his heels together to lift off the ground to fly back to his party at Stark Tower while Jarvis shared the intel with SHIELD, now leaving the blip attack possibly without an enemy to blame it on you imagined would automatically revert to you.

Through your joint laughter Eddie teased, “Oh he is painfully pushing to not brag about his new core to you.”

“I got ten bucks says I’m on the news as behind the blip in the morning.”

“They are not going to back step or believe that guy until they have him shackled and interrogated.” Eddie said and nodded his head to the side, “Let’s get you home.”

Pt 21

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess​, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​, @fizzyxcustard​

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​

@jiminapickle

[yn-dreamlife]

For them

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, character death, reader death, no happy ending

A/N: I've finally completely read the Harry Potter series despite having watched and loved them my whole life. Fred Weasley has and always will be one of my favorite characters who brings me great comfort. Upon reading his death this is what I came up with immediately, I've had horrible writers' block for about a week so I guess enjoy it despite the fact it is so depressing.

A/N 2.0: It just deleted half of what I wrote so I cant promise that this re-write I'll be posting will be as sad as it would have been but here you go still

She could barely stand, the pain from her abdomen seemingly nothing compared to the pain of her heart now. There was no way, this can't be true. But as she staggered forward slowly on buckling knees she knew it was. Fred, her Freddie laid before her, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

She couldn't hear the calls from the two other gingers close to Fred. Percy was begging, begging her to understand he hadn't meant it, that he hadn't meant to distract Fred, that he would never want his brother to be killed because he had made a mistake. Ron was trying to pull her away as the corridor they were now in was being assaulted by giant spiders.

She no longer knew what was happening, nothing around her mattered except for the man in front of her, the man who laid before her already gone. She stumbled towards him her knees finally giving way as she collapsed to the floor beside the man she loved.

Her trembling hand reached toward her fiance her crimson-covered fingers brushing his cheek as if to rouse him, "w-wake up Freddie," she whimpered as tears burned down her skin. "I-it's... you-you have t-to get... get up now." It had to have been a prank, he had to have just been trying to have a laugh with her.

But deep down, she knew. A woman was screaming, she could not process that it was her own. "Please, please get up Fred- I-I can't... I can't do this on my own. I need you!" But her calls went unanswered, Fred remained lying on the floor unmoving.

Her mind was swimming with thoughts, thoughts of what she would never get, thoughts of her and Fred getting married. Images of Fred holding his own set of twins- their set of twins. Imaged of her working at the shop as their children played behind the counter. Images of just her, Freddie, and two cups of tea for company on the roof of the shop as they watched the sunrise.

But those thoughts and images were being taken from her, rapidly disappearing into the darkness as others swam forth. Her, George, and Lee mourning Fred, thoughts of late nights up sitting in the bathroom and hand clutched to her mouth and the other to her abdomen as she held in the sobs so as to not wake anyone else. And just as her dreams and hopes for a future were becoming drowned in darkness so was her world, the fight, the battle she was still a part of was fading.

She looked down at her abdomen, there was so much blood- too much blood. She wouldn't be able to heal this, no one would be able to heal this in time. She could feel herself growing weaker as she laid beside her fiance in the small nook where a suit of arms had been.

She barely remembers brushing away Percy, Ron, Harry, and Hermione telling them to continue fighting. She barely remembers Harry and Percy bringing Freds' body here to keep it safe.

But as she laid her head down on the familiar chest he could convince herself for a moment she wasn't dying. If she squinted the corridor long since destroyed around her became their bedroom. the crimson-covered stones she laid in where the crimson sheets of their bed, and the explosions of battle- long since muffled to her where the still-beating heartbeat of Fred.

There was a part of her that was happy, a part that was happy she wouldn't have to live a life filled with the agony she had experienced within the few minutes of knowing her fiance was dead. A part of her that was happy she would get to be with Fred in life after death, that they would be together in a world with no pain.

But another part of her was scared, a part of her was frightened and a part of her- the biggest part of her was mourning what she would leave behind.

She was leaving George and Lee alone in their grief, Lee who was one of her best friends, and George who she had spent every holiday with since they were eleven years old. Would they hate her for leaving them too? Would they know how much she missed them even now? Would they forgive her?

All she could do was hope that they would, and hope that she would not see anyone else she loved for a very long time because if she would that would mean they too had died- a thought which she couldn't handle.

As her eyes closed for a final time, her own smile ghosting on her lips she uttered her last words, "I'm coming, Freddie."

___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Y/n Y/l/n died in the arms of the man she loved, she died what could have appeared a peaceful death in her sleep had it not been for the deep claw marks through her stomach.

George remembered perfectly what he had seen, the image of his best friend and twin brother lying dead yet still embracing each other engraved in his brain. The image that plagued him whenever he tried to cast his patronus charm, the image that would haunt his every nightmare.

But George Weasley continued to live, he continued to love, and most importantly he continued to laugh. Because although half of their group was gone Lee and him refused to let their spirits die. Although yes it hurt, and some days were hard George continued to laugh for his brother- for his other half. George continued to laugh for his best firend- for the girl who had been with him since he was eleven.

George could still remember how he felt the very day he found out. The way the sobs racked his very soul and how he could barely breathe. The feeling of relief when he saw Ron and realized he had only lost one brother, the feeling of anguish that that brother had been George. He remembers holding his mother as she begged for Fred to be joking saying how she would never make him dress up for anything again if he just got up.

But he didn't stir, he didn't pop up with a wide grin and proclaim that they all looked like blubbering babies. There was no bright giggle that emanated from his side as you to popped up and made a witty remark about how it would take more to kill you. No, instead the only sound that was heard was the sound of his own anguished cries.

George and Lee had lost half of their group, when thoughts like that come to George he can't help but think of Remus Lupin. But he wasn't Remus Lupin, he had only lost two of his friends while he had thought he lost three. In this regard, he was thankful that he only lose Fred and y/n, but that wasn't true, was it? Others had died, others like Remus Lupin and his wife Tonks, something he thought of often and that pained him too.

But now as he looked down at the gravestones of his two best friends there was the smallest smile on his lips. Because he knew somewhere out there they were together and they were happy. He knew that somewhere out there those two were swapping stories with the three greatest pranksters at Hogwarts. And, he knew that someday he would get to join them but not for a very long time because he had to continue on, he had to live... for them.

[soldrawss]

Alright, so it's pretty clear which Bab is who, But how oh how did he Obtain these four boys in your Human Rottmnt au?

~SO! Bear with me, there’s a LOT of info here and it kinda turned into a fic half way down so yeah~

In my au, Yoshi is still the famous movie and action star, Lou Jitsu! (In his private life, he goes by Yoshi Hamato, but in the public eye he is Lou Jitsu. Sorta like a Hannah Montana situation) Anyway, while he’s a big-time hotshot, he starts dating fellow hotshot movie star Kuroko Gumo (Big Mama)(I gave her a Japanese name basically meaning spider don’t @ me) They date for a long time and for a while are the celebrity couple of the century... that is, until Yoshi asks Big Mama to marry him. She turns him down in a very public and horrible way (Basically saying that what they had was just a fun fling and also for clout) and leaves Yoshi absolutely wrecked. He becomes incredibly depressed and spirals into unhealthy habits and kinda goes off the deep end. (Showing up to interviews and public events wasted. Sleeping around with lots of other famous celebrities and models. Causing a PUBLIC SCENE literally every time he goes out. It wasn’t a good time for Yoshi OR Lou at ALL. This went on for about 4-5 years on and off.)

Until his ‘manager’ finally hired him a PR agent to put him into shape. (Yoshi had PR agents in the past. But all of them quit after a while of not being able to DEAL with Yoshi’s tantrums) And boy, did this PR agent NOT fuck around. Barry Draxum, though he prefers just Draxum, single-handedly saved Yoshi’s carrier and Lou Jitsu’s image practically overnight. And even though his methods for getting Yoshi to shower before a photoshoot or ‘eat a fucking vegetable Hamato or so help me GOD I will shave your head completely bald and then you’ll have to wear a wig for the rest of filming, do not TEMPT me’ are a little unorthodox, he gets the job done. And even though the two butt heads and bicker on the daily, they end up being a pretty good team, and slowly but surely, Yoshi starts to heal and get better and get his life/career back on track.

That is, until the consequences of his actions came a-knocking. 

It was Draxum who found out first, through a late-night phone call in Yoshi’s living room while the two were discussing a film shoot for later on that week. 

Yoshi had really only seen two sides of Draxum’s emotional range up until that point, and Yoshi was pretty sure he didn’t have any other settings besides passively annoyed and downright fed up, but the look on Draxum’s face, going pale with confusion and concern had Yoshi waiting at the edge of the couch in acute apprehension. The blood in his veins turning to ice under his skin.

It was about a woman named Nia Okoro. A vibrant and outgoing woman, with freckles like constellations dusted on her dark skin and dimples so deep that Yoshi loved to make her laugh just so he could see how deep they’d go. He had had previous relations with her, often seeking her out when he was at his loneliest and lowest points only because she had a personality that was loud and warm, and that could win smiles out of him as easy as breathing. 

But he hadn’t seen her in almost a year. Right before Draxum came around and knocked some sense into him, Yoshi even said so when Draxum asked, worry a knotted, tangled mess in his stomach when he asks why. What’s wrong? Did something happen?

A car accident, Draxum explains slowly like he’s approaching a feral animal and he doesn’t know if it will fight or flee if he approaches with any more information. A semi collided with the driver's side of her car. She didn’t make it. Died on route to the hospital.

Yoshi, Draxum says in a low voice, not giving Yoshi a second to wrap his head around the grief pumping back into his system like an all too familiar and painful drug when he adds, she left behind two sons. And apparently, before she died, she claimed they were both yours.

Yoshi was on the next flight out to Chicago that night, Draxum trailing behind after him trying to get Yoshi to see reason, Hamato. We don’t really know if they’re yours, and even if they were, which is highly unlikely, what are you going to do? You can’t raise children right now, your career is still in a fragile state. YOU’RE still in a fragile state.

But Yoshi wasn’t listening as he takes his window seat, Draxum perfectly harrumphing defeatedly in the seat beside him, and Yoshi spends the next two and a half hours looking out into the cloudless night, not listening to anything but the sound of his own racing heart trying to burst out between his ribcage.

When they get to the hospital, it’s 2:30 in the morning and Draxum has to practically pull Yoshi from slamming his fists down on the reception desk. Draxum had told him it was a longshot that the children would even still be here at this hour, if they even existed at all and weren’t just some wild goose chase of a prank someone was pulling on them, but Yoshi still had to know. Had to make sure.

When Draxum finally manages to explain their situation to the woman at the front desk, it's with a sad but knowing smile when she nods, knowing exactly the children they were looking for, and leads them through the hospital for what feels like endless years to Yoshi till they reach a closed examination room.

Yoshi is greeted by two pairs of almond-shaped brown eyes, one pair wide and bright and the other sleepy and heavy-lidded, and it takes all his strength not to crumble to the hospital floor right then and there.

A little boy was sitting on a large hospital bed, covered in scratches and bruises and head half wrapped in colorful red gauze with yellow stars on it, looks up at Yoshi with watery alert eyes. He clutches at the drowsy infant half asleep in the circle of his arms almost protectively, and it takes another bow of strength from Yoshi to remain calm when the boy bites out a quiet, you can’t take him either. 

Take who away, Yoshi asks back in a voice almost as quiet at the boy’s, and the little boy tightens his hold around the baby. Eyes bright like daggers and mouth thin with a determination that could move mountains, like he wasn’t a child and the ugly road rash and bruising skin under her clothes didn’t exist, when he glares at Yoshi.

Mikey! They took mama away, but you can’t take Mikey too! He’s my baby brother. Mama said I have to protect him, so you can’t take him! You can’t! Please!

It took several weeks and an ocean load of paperwork on Yoshi’s and Draxum’s part, but sure enough, Raphael and Michelangelo Okoro were indeed Yoshi’s sons, and having no other relatives they could go to, were finally allowed to be adopted and come home with the movie star.

Yoshi was whole worlds out of depths with parenthood, having absolutely no experience with children in general prior to his son’s moving in with him, and it showed with every backward diaper and screaming tantrum fit and sleepless night. And Yoshi asked himself about a million and a half times a day if he had gotten over his head. Taken on too much, more than he could handle. If he was cut out to be a dad, let alone a dad they needed, at all.

But Mikey had a giggle that filled up every corner of the room with something warm and delighted, and Raph’s tough and hesitant exterior against Yoshi at first melted into something akin to fierce and toothed love for his baby brother. So he was patient with Yoshi, and taught him all the best tricks to get Mikey to hold still long enough to change his clothes or wash behind his ears with a smile and fondness that downright glowed. And when he finally called out a hey pops to Yoshi, wearing a broad and comfortable confidence and joy like a badge on his chest, Yoshi finally gave in to his emotions and sleep deprivation and cried right there with both of his boys in his arms. 

And he really was awful at being a dad, but dangit if he wasn’t going to try his best anyway because it was so worth it just to have those two pairs of smiling eyes turn his way.

But the experience with Raph and Mikey opened up a pandora's box inside Yoshi’s heart.

Because Raph was four years old. That was four years of Yoshi not knowing he had a son, let alone two... Was it possible that there was more he didn’t know about?

And with the, albeit begrudging, help from Draxum, (Draxum, who had collected the embarrassingly long list of lovers and ex’s from Yoshi and began reaching out to them in inquiry about children and possible visitation rights and the such. Because Yoshi was sure that if he had more children, their situations wouldn’t be like Raph’s and Mikey’s where Yoshi could just take full custody of them. Especially when none of the mothers had ever reached out in the first place) he found that answer out.

It was yes, and the exact number was two more.

Two more sons. One in Seattle and one in San Antonio.

Donatello Martelli was relatively easy to find. His mother, Bria, as beautiful as she was vain and obsessed with her image, didn’t hesitate to point Draxum and Yoshi in the direction of the nearest foster home. Because Bria was not the motherly type, and she never had the patience or tolerance or room in her heart to fit parenthood into her world of glamour and glitz the way Yoshi did. So with what little kindness she had to her name, she put up her son for adoption and wiped her hands clean of what was left of Yoshi’s and her’s short-lived romance.

Donatello, as Yoshi had come to discover, was a handful of a child, but in all the ways that made Yoshi’s heart burst with affection and pride.

He was smarter and craftier than anyone would ever give a 3-year-old credit for, and his short temper and passive boredom towards the world around him was only because he lacked the stimulus and opportunity to shine as brightly as he could. He was in his 8th foster home in that year alone when Draxum had located him; being swapped around from home to home because no one knew how to handle the child's sharp wit and even sharper tongue, and the list of appliances and machines he had ‘destroyed’ had labeled him as a trouble maker and problem child.  

It was only until Yoshi had made the journey to Seattle himself and met the keen-eyed and brazen child that Yoshi discovered just how soft-hearted Donatello truly was. 

He was just curious. That’s all he ever was. Curious and hungry for knowledge and wanting to use that knowledge for good and kind and wonderfully brilliant things.

I wanted to know how the toaster works, Donatello’s admits quietly, more to himself than to Yoshi but Yoshi listens anyway. Mrs. Brown’s burns the toast and Mr. Brown doesn’t like it. I just wanted to see if I could make it better.

Donnie’s adoption was almost too easy, no one willing to put up any fight against Yoshi steadfast resolution, and the bespectacled brown-eyed child thrived in Yoshi’s endless supply of toasters he could take apart and reassemble too his heart's content, and Raph’s and Mikey’s constant adoration and fondness for their newest brother.

It took almost 2 months after Donnie’s adoption for Draxum to even learn about a fourth child, let alone find him.

Maria Guerrero was the only woman they couldn’t reach out to, seemingly dropping off the face of the earth like she had never existed in it to begin with and was just a well-spun fever dream of Yoshi’s past. Draxum had almost exhausted every string he had left to even prove the woman existed, let alone where she was, and it was only because of Yoshi’s begging and pleading and she’s out there somewhere, Barry. Please. I don’t want to give up without knowing for sure, that Draxum kept up the search longer than the 2-month mark. 

And then he had found something. A tiny, sliver of a half baked chance at something and Yoshi clung to it like a lifeline.

I don’t know if it’s anything at all. Maria isn’t even mentioned by name it’s just... with the description you gave and the time frame set... a couple of years ago, there was this child with the last name Guerrero in San Antonio who was left at the hospital just a few hours after he was born. The mother disappeared without a trace and with no explanation, but she matches the description of Maria-

What’s the child’s name, Yoshi finds himself interrupting, a tugging feeling at the bottom of his stomach making him feel equal parts sick and hungry with hope and morbid curiosity.

Leonardo. Leonardo Guerrero. He’d be about 3 now.

Yoshi knew. He just knew. As soon as he stepped out of his car and onto the dusty laneway of the shabby and overpacked halfway home in Texas and walked up to the metal chain-linked fence separating himself from the front yard of children of varying ages and races, he knew. He didn’t even need the owner and self-designated father of the home to point the child out to Yoshi.

Leonardo was a scrawny and scrappy child. The patched-up sweater 3 times his size dropping over limbs covered in bandaids and vitiligo patches alike. His hair was a curly mess, long and tangled and held out of his face by different types of hair clips and scrunchies. He was playing by himself off in the farthest corner of the yard, head down and tracing the ground with a stick, and it wasn’t until the other man called out a thickly accented, GUERRERO, that the boy looked up.

Brown eyes. Brown eyes like Raph’s and Donnie’s and Mikey’s. Brown eyes like Yoshi’s. Round and rich and shining like a spotlight and something clicked inside of Yoshi’s chest. Like the final piece of a long-overdue jigsaw puzzle was finally where it belonged, fitting into the empty spot in Yoshi’s heart like it had always owned a place there, right alongside all the other pieces that had claimed their space within the past few months. 

Yoshi didn’t think his heart could get any fuller. 

But then Leo smiled at him, and Yoshi couldn’t have been more happy to be proven wrong.