#baby ' s first web weave !

[remyfire]

D. S. Stylus, Director's Note // S4E1-2 Welcome to Korea // S7E23 Preventative Medicine // S9E14 Oh, How We Danced // S8E6 Period of Adjustment // S10E17 Where There's A Will, There's A War

[deathzgf]

[ofallthingsnasty]

May I request yandere reo mikage manipulating his s/o making them think they need him. This causes Stockholm Syndrome and they later get married and have a child. Reo is praised in the public for being a billionaire, pro-soccer player, good husband and father.

tags: yandere, reo is 20+, emotional abuse, sfw but minors please dni, pregnancy discussion but no pronouns are used word count: 0.7k

Oh, Reo... deceptively sweet and caring Reo. Who needs Stockholm Syndrome when your boyfriend never gave you any weird feelings in the first place, when he showers you with gifts and affection? He is all you could ever ask for, attentive beyond belief and willing to do just about anything for you. He seems to be too good to be true, really: a pro-athlete, rich, only has eyes for you. Who wouldn't get swept up by that? And my, isn't he just like a lovesick little puppy with how he sends you flowers to your workplace, how he picks you up whenever he can - whisking you away for yet another expensive dinner, a new mini-vacation every other weekend. Sweet and handsome and above all, generous - you don't want to leave. It's easy to simply ignore what lurks beneath the surface of that bright smile and boyish enthusiasm: How much he needs you, how he doesn't let go of people he has picked - he's either extremely hot or cold with those few, chosen ones. We've seen how he treats Nagi when all is well, when he can put his faith in someone - but we've also seen how he gets when those feelings get trampled into the ground. He's definitely the type to always try to smooth the waves, who never wants to fight but also has a very peculiar way of communicating any issues he has with your behavior. He doesn't like it all that much when your attention strays from him, for whatever reason. He's extremely emotionally manipulative. Never the one to outright forbid you from going out or even keeping you - but he'll act so cold, will mope for days after you spent a night out, when you dive into one of your hobbies instead of spending time with him. Everything that doesn't suit him is some sort of betrayal to Reo, makes him turn frosty until you apologize for something you don't quite understand. It's subtle and very gradual but you'll soon try to phase out everything that upsets him. It's just so hard to weather his depressive moods, to be in the same house as him while he can't face you without a look of clear disappointment and hurt in his eyes. Not only does he wean you from all your silly little distractions, he rewards you for not giving any of your precious time to your friends and family - even more expensive gifts, the finest food and above all, so much love and praise that it makes you feel dizzy and desperate when he punishes you again after a perceived mishap. He has the art of manipulation down and no matter how much you try to fight against it - you love him. And seeing someone you love so dearly all vulnerable and hurting is bound to shape your behavior. You'll find yourself so entangled in the webs he weaves after just a few months of being together, so dependent on him that you question your ability to ever be single again.

He doesn't view having a child with you as a way to shackle you to him - he genuinely wants a baby, dreams of that picture-perfect little family, of raising a little human with you. A child is the ultimate union between the two of you, the purest declaration of love. That's why it hurts him all the more when you tell him you don't want one right now. Reo just doesn't understand - he has all the money to support you, you've been together for quite a while, had your fun - why not take that jump with him? It feels like you're rejecting him and his love. He won't force you into anything but he'll give you his coldest shoulder yet. He takes your gentle later, honey, just not now and twists it into you completely blindsiding him. He can't even look at you - leaves the house without saying goodbye, doesn't sleep in the same bed as you - hell, you'll even catch him crying once. Reo wears you down emotionally, makes you feel so ungrateful and selfish for denying him this simple thing that you'll fold just after a few days. Does it really matter if you wait another year before you start trying? Doesn't he have all the money in the world to hire a whole gaggle of nannies? What will really change? You only have things to gain. And if it keeps him happy, keeps his eyes shining and you in his good graces, why not start now?

[eliotquillon]

ask game for house!

send me a fandom and i’ll tell you my:

• blorbo (favourite character, character i think about the most): SEE this is difficult. because my favourite character is by far cameron (i keep it really subtle you might not have noticed /s), but she is not necessarily the character i think about the most—that’s probably house himself, lol, not that my fic ever shows it. but for the purposes of this question and by most people’s definition of the word: yeah it probably is cameron. love her and her messiness and her permanent hair indecisiveness <3

• scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): you’re all gonna think i’m lying out of my ass because i’ve never mentioned him on here but it IS kutner. i always have the biggest dumbest smile on my face whenever he comes on screen. last night me and my friends were showing each other christmas episodes of shows we like and when it was my turn to pick i specifically chose the s4 christmas episode because i knew kutner would lighten things up and bring some joy. think it was probably best he left the show when he did but MAN did he brighten up s4 and 5

• scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): okay realistically this is cameron but i can’t just answer her for every question. so first runner up is probably…taub? who i know is quite popular as comedic relief but as an actual serious, dramatic character…man. the first time i saw the scene of him throwing the balloons at his face in larger than life i nearly cried. i really, really like taub and genuinely enjoyed his marriage subplot. he might be my favourite of the new fellows tbh.

• glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and i won’t shut up about it for a week): okay not to cop out but this has a few answers. if we’re talking actual minor characters—then nurse brenda previn. miss you diva. the team’s mortal enemy being the head charge nurse was such a funny concept and deserved to stuck around. if we’re talking characters who had a major role but only for 1-2 episodes—rowan chase for obvious ‘what the fuck is going on THERE’ reasons. if we talking characters who are mentioned but never actually appear—as fond as i am of cameron’s dead husband, this one goes out to julie. obsessed with the woman who broke the streak of wilson cheating on his wives to cheat on HIM and still kicked him out of their house. why does she hate green. what a tangled web she weaves.

• poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): split between house and chase but leaning towards chase. not because he’s unpopular, but just. Look at the state of him. Most intense backstory/lore of all time. he literally had a character-development signifying haircut. he’s the asskisser of all time. and i do really really like him fyi

• horse plinko (character i would torment for fun, for whatever reason): MASTERS. i actually really like what she brings to the show and as an autism princess myself i highly respect her autism girl swag. but that said i love the way the team (CHASE) winds her up. she’s so funny to poke at. love you masters but i would make you do medical malpractice forever if i could

• eeby deeby (character i would send to superhell): lucas douglas. yes i’m choosing lucas over vogler or tritter. i like vogler as a villain and the tritter arc gave us banger episodes like son of a coma guy. lucas just. Annoys me and is kind of boring to boot. i regularly forget his surname. and that’s a crime nobody can atone for. i cant believe cuddy dated this loser for a year.

[youre-only-gay-once]

[ID: Glowing neon white and orange text set over a picture of a foggy, wet road at night. the road is surrounded by looming trees and there is a single car driving on it. The text reads: Clarice your-only-gay-once’s 3000 Follower Celebration end ID]

Hey y’all, I recently hit 3000 followers and decided to do an supernatural creator event! It will run for 6 days from August 1 to August 6 !

Prompts

August 1: Favorite episode(s)/character(s)/ship(s) // Black and/or Red // Flowers

August 2: Horror // Teal and/or Orange // Liminal Spaces

August 3: Women in Spn // Purple and/or Gold // Cars

August 4: Angels, demons, and other non-humans// Green and/or Blue // Music

August 5: Older content, tag me in something you made that never got the attention it deserved or even just something you made that you really liked!

August 6: Freespace!!  Anything you want!!

Guidelines

Open to everyone regardless of whether you follow me or are mutuals with me (no incest or minor/adult shippers though please)

You can fill one of the prompts or all of the prompts. In fact, you don’t even have to follow the prompts at all, they’re just suggestions/ideas and you can make content for as few or as many of the days as you want

All content types are welcome (gifs, fanfic, amvs, poetry, web weaves, edits, graphics etc. etc.)

If you aren’t indigenous don’t make any Kaia (including dreamhunter) content, see this post for why 

No baby jack content, it's not my thing and while some of it was cute at first it got really wide spread and started turning pretty ableist, see these posts for more info x x

No wincest or winkline please

No extremely NSFW content please, if it’s mild nsfw please make sure to tag it

Try to warning tag your posts the best you can please

Tag your posts with #yogo3000 and/or tag me directly

[jamiesfootball]

Some random fic questions for you!

1) in the Leverage AU you definitely aren't writing, which episode(s) are you most excited to (definitely not) adapt?

2) how did you come up with the ideas for the subplots in OGYGGI(YHNBGL), and how did you go about weaving them all together? (also typing that acronym requires. concentration)

3) free space! answer whichever question you wish people would ask about your fics

Aaaaaah, I love random fic questions! Thank you!

1) in the Leverage AU you definitely aren't writing, which episode(s) are you most excited to (definitely not) adapt?

While I have a massive prompt table (that I shared somewhere in my leverage au tag forever ago), I'm fairly sure I won't end up using all of them. That said, there are a few episodes in particular that have been added to the Web Of Character Arcs and are for sure getting used:

The Juror #6 Job (with Roy as the juror)

The First David Job / The Second David Job

The Broken Wing Job

The Grave Danger Job

The Three Card Monte Job

The Rashomon Job

Of the ones I'm most looking forward to adapting, I think The Three Card Monte Job is at the top of my list. It's going to be the Jamie's dad turns up episode.

Now. For job titles I currently have on the chapter list:

The First Second Job

The Little Sister Job

The Equity Trust Job

The Juror #6 Job*

The Just Married Job

The Faberge Dilemma

The Hammer Job

The Broken Wing Job*

The Son's Gambit

Special Note: The Broken Wing Job, while it shares a title, is very much not a fun little one-off romp and is not a 1:1 retelling of the episode it's named after. The Juror #6 Job, on the other hand, is very much like it's namesake, only with Roy in the place of Parker trying to learn how to get along with people without cracking skulls. Growth, baby <3

2) how did you come up with the ideas for the subplots in OGYGGI(YHNBGL), and how did you go about weaving them all together? (also typing that acronym requires. concentration)

(I rely on my phone for the acronym now)

The subplots were very much a listing of 'here's everything I wish they'd handled differently in the finale, now what can I do to fix this?'

Jamie - I think we know this one. His dad. That scene of him visiting his dad in rehab. This was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. This is what took it from 'hey I wrote a thing about Roy and Jamie discussing him reaching out to his dad' and turned it into a multi-chaptered behemoth

Roy - very much did not care for the fight in the last episode, and what (to me) felt like a lack of resolution. Did very much like that he decided to go to therapy. Decided to spin it so that the fight was why he ended up in therapy. Now I get to talk about both of those things as much as I want- yaaaaaaaay

Sam - Why. Why would you definitively have Akufo say Sam would never get to play for the Nigerian team. And then have the next thing be a shot of him on the Nigerian team. WHY. So the basic outline of Sam's subplot in this fic is him vs. Akufo, who has built a Nigerian restaurant right around the corner from Sam's restaurant.

Colin - I'm so sorry, buddy, but that kiss definitely outed you. There were cameras, bud. There were so many cameras....... HOWEVER. That is not the totality of Colin's arc! Colin's arc is very much a 'what now?' sort of thing that I shall continue to be vague about.

Keeley - Look, the show may have been lazy in her plot lines, but they left a lot of solid, strong storybeats to play around with. Her subplot really focuses on the rebuilding aspect of everything: rebuilding her relationships with Roy and Jamie, rebuilding her company under the weight of crushing guilt and debt that she now feels to her best friend for bailing her out, rebuilding her image after the leak, the breakup, and Shandy (jesus). She has a lot going on, and due to the messiness of her interpersonal relationships, there's no one area that doesn't affect the others.

Beard - Beard and Jane happy ending my beloathed. You weren't even in the first draft, but boy if I didn't find a way to sow the seeds of your inevitable destruction by lowkey giving Beard a new foundation for his support system

Nate - I just feel like they got him like. 90% of the way there. There's just a little more fine-tuning on his character arc I'd like to spiff up.

Higgins - just kidding nothing to fix here, I love him for who he is. Someone's got to keep a level head around here and keep the boat moving forward

Isaac - oh I'm sorry did you think I forgot about my boy the way my show forgot about my boy? Nuh uh. Subplot for Isaac.

As for how I weaved them all together? I've got no idea. Really, I don't. When I started to outline everything, they all just- slotted in together. I think a part of what made that easy is I have this (usually unmet) want for characters to interact with people outside their immediate plot lines in meaningful ways, which ultimately makes them part of the plot line. For example, if Sam is struggling with Akufo, then it makes sense that Jamie, someone who likes Sam, would already have sought Sam out for his own reasons. It's not like I'm doing backflips to get everybody in the same room. By wanting to be in each other's lives, they naturally become part of each other's plots, whether they realize it or not.

3) free space! answer whichever question you wish people would ask about your fics

Okay, this one stumped me, so instead I've found a question from one of those ask games:

What fic are you most excited about publishing/updating next?

The next chapter of OGYGGIYHNBGL! It is written! It is obscenely long! Longer than the first chapter! 22k words and 66 pages! But it is badly in need of edits and still has the odd [bracket fix this later] and I've just been so burnt out lately that every time I look at it I want to cry.

But that is my goal for this weekend! I want to get a decent chunk of this thing edited. I'm quite excited for it to finally see the light of day.

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Comics Read-through Masterpost (The Sixties)

So here's what I already read thanks to handy compilations in my country by year: 1969 (TASM 68-79 + Marvel Super-Heroes 14), 1973 (TASM 116-127 + Spectacular Spider-Man Magazine Vol 2, which I recall particularly enjoying) and 1974 (TASM 128-139 + Giant-Size Super Heroes 1 + Giant-Size Spider-Man 1 & 2). I read a few more comics here and there like one from the early 2000s with Skrulls, a Spider-Man/Wolverine team-up, and one issue where they were on an island or something... and two volumes of the recent 2022 run. I also read Civil War 1-6 and the corresponding Spider-Man issues (TASM 532-536). And I just remembered I ALSO read two other arcs: the first Clone Saga with the Jackal (TASM 144-151) and Morlun's first appearance (TASM [1999] 30-35) and YES, I never saw the actual conversation with May. I also very recently read two issues of a crossover, one where Spider-Punk fights capitalistic Kang, and [the one I really wanted to read] the one where Peter's dead and Harry fights his dad. It's pretty gay. Anyway!

Opinions:

1969's run is nice, but after reading through 1973 and 74, it all feels a bit underwhelming - but the story arc was intriguing.

1973 and 1974 are classical, and I didn't know how much they was, but they truly is. Iconic story arcs, they involve the Green Goblin who's by far my favorite villain (I was raised on those Raimi movies baby) and I was very glad to see elements of a certain arc in TASM 2. Truly excellent.

The first Clone Saga was great, and I appreciated that Mary Jane was just as affected. However, I didn't like Morlun's arc - it felt too gritty. But Peter as a university professor definitely makes sense.

I don't think I'm gonna read everything 'til today, but hey, I'm just curious and taking my time!

I guess considering all of that... I read a sensible amount of Spider-Man comics, I guess, huh? Wow.

Anyway, I'm following a... certain list because it's exactly what I needed. I've already (mostly) read through arcs 001-004, so I made a grouped post for these.

Lee & Ditko Era (001: AF 15, ASM 1-38, ASM Ann 1-2) + The start of the Lee & Romita Sr.'s Era (002 End Of The Green Goblin [ASM 39-40], 003 Horns Of The Rhino [ASM 41-43, Ann 3] & 004 Where Crawls a Lizard [ASM 44-46]: Here

005 Old Kravens and New Vultures (ASM 47-49): Here 006 Spider-Man No More (ASM 50-52): Here 007 What a Tangled Web We Weave (ASM 53-61, Ann 4): 1 2 008 The Goblin Lives (ASM 62-67): Here

Interlude - Spectacular Spider-Man 1 & 2 + Annual 5: Here

009 The Case of the Petrified Tablet (ASM 68-77): Here 010 Night of The Prowler (ASM 78-82, Ann 6): Here

Recommendations: Here

For the Seventies, go here.

[louisdotmp3]

MAY 2021 - month in review & monthly favorites

helloooo what a good month full of birthdays and anniversaries!

first: all my spnwomenweek edits

web weaving

tfw + iain s thomas poems

despair + cheryl strayed quotes

my chest is soaked dark with love for you

work song + the prisoner

pilot + i think this might all be a bad dream

jack + poetry

defenceless + despair

colorsnatural

pilot in rainbow

pilot in green

pink film: one, two, three

sam’s birthday

cas?  are you god?

final girl dean

baby

pinknatural: the prisoner

pinknatural: jack

purplenatural: tmwwbk

purplenatural: the rupture

purplenatural: destiel

purplenatural: general (another)

oilslicknatural: tmwwbk

oilslicknatural: claire

buffynatural

i don’t know how to live in this world

lie to me / the man who would be king

writing

kill that father friday (killing john 5 +1) with @hellerjesuschrist​ and @hazloveshisboo​ (m, 21.8k)

dean stumbles upon a vampire brothel and remembers the time he let benny bite him in purgatory (e, 1.6k)

the stanford era deanlee saga: one, two, three, four

other

tfw + defining hand moments

defining hand moments 2: parents

it’s fine, cas.  besides, i had it coming

trueform cas (alternate version)

9-1-1 suspicion / btvs seeing red

MAY FAVORITES

edits

tmwwbk floral cas by @floral-cas

dead man’s blood, bloodlust by @emptymeg

cas glitch trueform by @omniscientoranges

dean by @deanscaps

aesthetic spn 1 by @bluefirecas

everything you’ve ever done, you’ve done for love by @bluefirecas

dta paperback designs by @jurisffiction

gifs

btvs + blood by @spuffygifs

spn mothers by @winchestergifs

tombstone by @burnhamandtilly

blue + pink tombstone by @forthiswholeworld

purple tombstone by @casjpg

the prisoner by @holmesemrys

spnwomen week: old school by @forthiswholeworld

sparkly dean smith by @endverse

dean & his little outfits by @burnhamandtilly

art

dean and cas’ beginning by @beezybeeart

night watch (purgatory) by @maesisms

dean’s daddy issues collage and hoziernatural collage by @its-maddiec

tmwwbk neon cas by @dualityofcastiel

salman toor green room inspired deancas by @wildwomanbluess

dean and cas kiss by @cottoncandyofterror

heart on his sleeve dean & confused cas by @dragqueendean

dean “the divine invasion of the garden” and dean outfits by @clickbaitcowboy

fingers in his mouth friday by @wingnasty

cas and purple cas by @babyjacktruther

sam and rainbow cas by @not-xpr-art

jack + cas by @jackklinestan

hoziernatural deancas  and cas by @mmarz23

cas #1 dad by @match-less-bee-bud

claire n kaia by @beanietoast

cas by @frodo-a-gogo

dean and cas couch cuddles by @jensensitive

billie by @deancascrowley

dean + cas + neon vibes by @hardcoremisery

beard dean by @ozonecologne

videos

crowded table animation by @skepticalfrogg

crowded table amv by @procrastinatingbisexual

dean is a working girl by @detectivemogeta

trueform cas by @angelfirevt

tmwwbk + no reptiles by @loverfighter

dean winchester - as a child by @bisexualrowena

season one + faceless by @marlborodean

somebody to love by @katebushstandean

writing

human cas by @deanpdf

what a month !  u all are so talented i’m blowing a kiss to all of u.  clearly i read no fic, maybe in june i will

if you ever want me to reblog something of yours, you can use my tracking tag #qaslight so i can see it! 💖🌻

[caramelgeddon]

Danganronpa characters with a himidere s/o

(Himidere are convinced there royalty or should be treated as such) part 3 of the rare dere creature feature

Hey welcome to part 3 of the dere creature feature idk how much more of the rare dere creature feature I’ll make. This is made in celebration of my first follower

Togami

At first he views s/o as a funny distraction

I mean someone who thinks they’re royalty when there not

Togami: “Hey s/o pfft how’s your servants?”

S/o: “I haven’t seen them recently how disrespectful that they haven’t appeared before me”

Togami: “Pfft”

However if he sees anyone make fun of s/o

Togami: “Talk to them again and I will make my butlers turn you into a human pretzel peasant!”

He doesn’t know how but he becomes best friends with s/o and super protective

He’ll even get some servants for them

There the most unlikely best friends

I really don’t see it going farther then best friends but if it does

Ibuki fangirls over them and finds them hillarious

And the protectiveness goes farther but not to where it’s creepy

If there s/o isn’t delusional and just do it for personal reasons

He’ll understand and comfort them

Sonia

She completely believes there royalty at first

But after a little bit she sees the signs

The fact she never sees any money or the fact you wear normal clothes

But she finds it rude to point it out and become good friends with them

But she stills finds them so intresting the way they talk about how they think rich life works or differences from sonias and there culture

She could never imagine that a place didn’t have makongos!

If she ever sees anyone picks on them

There free trial of living has expired (ok jk I’m not writing her as a yandere… idk if i will write for yanderes)

Sonia: “wow that’s really rude and your a awful person go away and leave them alone!”

If they ever started dating

Well she asks to take them back to her kingdom so they can have the wealth they want

If they say no and explain why they say they think why they act like they deserved to be treated like royalty

She’ll fully support them

She’s so sweet

Buys them there favorite candy and babies them in a relationship making them shy as hell

There so cute together (gundham x sonia still best ship sorry kazuichi)

Himiko

She loves the idea of being rich

Someone doing everything doing for you while you sit back and relax

She’s so facisnated when they tell stories

Himiko: “Nyeh can I go to your mansion sometime s/o it sounds nice”

S/o: “uhm id love to b-but uhm my butlers there allergic so you can’t come”

Himiko: “uhm to what”

S/o: “everything”

They meet on a blind date and instantly get along (kaede sets it up btw)

They quickly become a couple (you can decide if it’s platonic or romantic)

There a great match

Hypothetically if himiko was a fake mage even though she isn’t she would confess it to s/o

And that would make s/o confess

And they’re so adorable together

This couple is like getting a extra nugget in your Mc Donald’s

It good

Gundham

Ah another fop like togami pfft such vain creatures

However when he hears from people talking about you that your not rich he becomes interested

Why would you lie

He must know

Gundham: “Tell me enchantress why have you weaved a web of lies to make others kneel for you”

S/o: “im not lying how dare you disrespect me I need to be respected I need to be liked… I uh I’ll have you punished by my many servants! Jiives where are you jiives!?”

Ah maybe he shouldn’t have asked

He can relate to hiding your true self behind a mask

After all the great demons of 1000 years ago did it all the time

So while he wouldn’t break there delusion he tells them there a great person no matter what

Hamster boy is so sweet

Celeste

Holy crap someone who wants to be royalty and be treated as royalty

It’s her!

Celeste: “Hello there s/o I heard your rich I’m making a castle someday I’d love to invite you over for tea”

She doesn’t judge them in fact she feels she found a fellow person she relates to

These two work together tirelessly to Achieve there dream of wealth and prosperity

Fun fact when hifumi flirts with Celeste s/o kicks him in the nuts with a shovel with spikes on it!

Both want to have servants both wanna have tons of money both are thicc

They are two peas in a pod

They rule it as queen and king/queen/whatever pronouns you want awesome people (seriously your all amazing)

There first date (if they get together) is in there garden plucking flowers

“Hey look s/o it’s my favorite flower a Alstroemeria. It represents wealth and beauty it’s just like you”

“Your my Alstroemeria s/o”

Junko

If anyone touches you

She will kill them

She loves them from the start

Protecc mode

She will sicc goats on anyone who attacks them (her sister. Her sister is awesome)

They won’t ever bother you again (they aren’t dead lol)

She’ll work super hard to make sure you get the royalty you deserve

Makes sure to get them the fanciest clothes she’s really good at it

“You’d look great in this s/o trust me I know i fashion”

(Sorry I didn’t know what to do with her)

[iiimber]

three years

aizawa x reader

word count: 945 warnings: yandere behaviors

Three years.

Three years, five months, fifteen days, twenty minutes and fifty-two seconds and counting since you left him. Since you escaped his safe hold, off into the dangerous world-- a location so unknown that not even Aizawa could figure it out.

He was good at things like that; tracking people down and getting the job done. It was apart of his job, and sometimes underground heroes like himself have to take a dirtier route to find who they’re looking for-- and it usually worked. Because it always worked for him.

Except this time, it didn’t. You had escaped and disappeared without a trace, existence whisked away like a cool breeze of air in a scalding month of summer. It scared him, made him anxious in ways he had never felt before. Aizawa had always been able to find some way to keep himself calm and steady in moments of panic, but this situation was different. So different.

He had designed this with no way for you to get out. His plan was so meticulously crafted over months-- years of watching and planning, getting to know you and getting you to trust in him that when he did s a v e you, you wouldn’t be as scared as you would with a stranger.

But somehow you weaved your way out of his beautiful (now, destroyed) web. Now you were gone without a trace and Aizawa felt helpless. There was a hole in his heart, a disrupted part of his life that he was slowly loosing hope in ever getting back. It made him feel pathetic and small-- you had always made him feel strong and important, and while he had never really cared much about the need for love in one’s life, you made him realize that life was useless without it.

How can he live without you now? Three years and he was getting worse; patrolling the streets in search of you much longer than any unease in the city, researching and sorting through files and social media in hopes that would be something. One small breadcrumb, even a hint the size of a grain of sand would do. Anything, anything that would lead him to you.

He had thought of travelling, and he would-- would go everywhere in the world to find you again, but his everyday life was much too structured to just put on the shelf and leave. It would be too suspicious...until now. It had been a long shot, but he had free time during the summer and it was the only thing resembling a hint to your whereabouts. It was smaller than a grain of sand-- but it was something.

“I haven’t been to the mountains since I was probably a toddler,” You had told him and others one night, drinking in a low-lit bar after school hours. You looked angelic in the hazy lights and heavy eyes from the alcohol. No one else could appreciate that sight as much as he had. “But I’ve seen family photos and it’s so beautiful! I want to go back someday soon, maybe if I have my own family.”

Your own family, his heart could’ve beaten out of his chest at that thought. Your own family-- a married life with you and small humans just the right mix of you both sounded like fate.

There was no family with you if you really were at the mountainside, you were missing him by your side-- but perhaps that would be why you were there. To throw him off, keep him from being able to feel your smooth and holy skin once more.

The mountainside town was small and quaint, family-owned shops and cobblestoned roads gave off a homey vibe. It made him feel at ease despite his growing anxiety-- dark eyes darting every which way in search of you, a sign of you. It might’ve been smart to head towards an Inn first considering how late it was getting, but he couldn't help himself but patrol.

Which, could have been an instinct-- as a voice sounded after an opening door, freezing him in his spot and making every hair on his body stand on edge. The breath that left his lips was more like a wheeze, that angelic voice like drinking water after weeks of dehydration. Perhaps that smaller-than-a-grain-of-sand hint was, in fact, worth something. 

“Come, Yamashi. We should get you home before it’s too late, you need to rest.” He stepped closer to the side of a building, slowly as to not startle you-- long strands of hair covering most of his face as he turned slightly, just enough to see you.

Crouched on the ground, a small boy stood before you. He was sniffing while you rubbed his nose with a tissue, (e/c) scanning his face cautiously as you spoke. “My poor baby...thankfully the doctor gave us some medication for you to take tonight. I’m sure you’ll feel much better after we get you home and tucked in bed.”

The small boy… hair and eyes as dark as Aizawa’s, only nodded. He had your nose, from what the man could tell from his side profile, lips pouting just like yours had when you were unsettled. He couldn’t have been more than three years, much too tiny for any older…

Your eyes, sweet and gentle lifted and met his-- dark and wide with realization. Not even the shrinking of your pupils and quick switch of loving to horror deterred Aizawa as he turned fully.

It seems like you had a head-start on your family in the mountainside, and luckily he arrived to deliver the last missing piece: himself.

[daughterofelros]

I’m seeing a fair bit of anger on my dash today directed at the idea of a poly relationship between Alex, Michael, and Maria.

Now, I multi-ship and will entertain most things, so I’ll definitely be appreciative of a lot of the meta and creative content that comes about here.

I’m also Poly myself. So I will brook no Puritanical Hatred of any forms of Ethical Non-Monogamy (any time where a person dates or is intimate with more than one person, and their partner(s) are aware of it.) I’m a firm defender of the idea that love isn’t a finite resource, and that Poly is valid as an option for how we configure relationships.

But there are ALOT of misconceptions out there that have me wide-eyed and pulling out my hair, because I hate miscommunication.

So I want to address a few of them— because given the state of ship drama in RNM fandom, when we use the same term without understanding it’s multiple meanings, miscommunication is a given, and it leads to needless harm.

Throuple: First, let’s get this out of the way. Biggest red flag that the person talking about three people dating doesn’t move in Poly communities? If they use this word. “Throuple” is not a thing. It exists solely in the mind of Hollywood Screen Writers and Web Article Authors. The only time I’ve ever heard a Poly person use this term is to roll our eyes and mock it. There are serious reasons for that, but we usually try to keep to eye rolling and move on.

Why Throuple Isn’t A Thing: So, Poly is a form of Ethical Non-Monogamy.

That means the relationship dynamics that require one person to date two others equally at the same time in the same way? Unrealistic expectation and best, deeply unethical at worst— dictating who someone can, can’t, or should love isn’t ethical, and that’s what an expectation of three people all dating each other the same way is. Triads where everyone dates each other are really, really rare. And ones where two or more of the people identify as male? Extra extra rare. That triangle where everyone dates everyone else? Deeply unusual.

And in the case where it does exist? There are four relationships, not just one— each relationship between each point of the triangle, AND the overall group relationship too. Each of those have to be invested in, and each of those have to be their own autonomous relationship that grows and changes at its own pace.

Also, it should never be assumed that two people will date because they both like the same person. And people shouldn’t be expected to date if their attractions are incompatible. People also shouldn’t be expected to date if they’re Bi/Pan but not automatically into each other. In the rare event a triad forms and everyone dates everyone else...each dynamic should be unique and grow at its own pace. It’s not just monogamy with an extra body.

Okay, so...Triad?: Yup! Triad is a much better word! One that Poly people actually use to describe themselves, or aspects of their dating life. Though again, really rare to have 3 people all date each other.

Wait, what do Poly Reationships look like if everyone isn’t dating?: Most often, they look like “V” or “hinge” relationships, where Person A and Person C each date Person B, but not necessarily each other.

(Fun reminder: dating and sex aren’t necessarily the same thing, so these dynamics are about expressing a relationship, not all about sex.) Also, just because they’re not dating, the dynamic between A and C might still be REALLY important. Sometimes, there’s not much connection, but usually, that metamour dynamic is super important.

Metamour?: Yup! Vocab lesson— metamour is how you say “partner’s partner”. It’s two people dating the same person, but not each other. This looks different for different people, but for a lot of poly folks, the support structure between metamours is one of the grand benefits of Poly. Metamours may go out for coffee, hang out together, be friends, play video games together, go to the gym together, hang out and cook together, and spend time with their mutual partner both together and alone. Everyone’s mileage may vary, because some folks prefer a polite distance and don’t really ever hang out. Me? I play D&D with most of my metamours, and I’ve spent the weekend on a fishing trawler with one of my metamours because she needed a buffer from her bigoted family during their annual fishing trip. Another metamour has kids in the school where I work, so sometimes I pick the kids up! We all have big dinner parties or movie nights that involve different parts of the polycule. Our dynamic is very “kitchen table” with everyone being a big ol’ family.

Multiple Metamours? Polycule?: Yeah! Most poly people are open to dating more than 2 people over time. As we map these relationships, that tends to look like a constellation or a diagram of a molecule. Hence, “polycule”. Poly rarely looks like a closed triangle. It also doesn’t usually involve just a single V. More often, it involves a bunch of different configurations, and a bunch of ways of setting up households (including deliberately not living together. Lots of folks practice solo poly where they don’t cohabitate with anyone else. Some folks are all raising kids together in the same house. Lots of dynamics exist in-between those points!)

Here’s a great polycule map from Kimchee Cuddles! It shows how dynamics shift over time, overlap, and weave together. Diagrams like this are frequently drawn by Poly folks, oftentimes on napkins over dinner.

But...Isn’t Jealousy An Issue?: Sure! Jealousy can be a thing- it’s a really human emotion! Most people who find themselves living a Poly life find themselves have to deal with jealousy at some point. One key thing though is that for most Poly folks, jealousy isn’t seen as the expected response to a situation (like seeing someone you love kiss someone else). Instead, it’s treated as a sign that there’s some kind of unmet need to reflect on and unpack, and you get to work it out and communicate about it. A lot of us think about it as check engine light. But there’s also this beautiful counterpoint to jealousy, and it’s called Compersion!

Compersion?: Compersion is the BEST! It’s really just...being happy because someone else is happy! In Poly, that might be the fact that you find yourself smiling when you see a cute moment between your partner and metamour, or see them getting excited for a date. It’s joyful and bubbly and sweet. It’s feeling your heart soar because you see your partner happy and in love. It can exist alongside jealousy— being happy that your partner and their date went to an awesome concert, even though you couldn’t afford a ticket yourself— or it can be so bright and lovely that it completely fills the space that society says should be taken up by jealousy. It makes me giddy to see my partners smooch their other partners, or make breakfast together. I grin when I see them holding hands. Sometimes a group of us are together doing something very normal like hiking...but we’re all grinning like idiots because the Compersion in hearing the mix of conversations and hand holding and flirtation is so infectious that we’re all filled with joy from it.

The thing is, we’re actually used to feeling Compersion in some societally accepted ways— when someone gets a new job, or is excited they’re having a baby, or gets engaged. One of the easiest things in the world is feeling happy for someone you love because they’re happy. And it’s kind of mind-blowing to have the realization that that’s true in romantic contexts as well.

Look- polyamory requires a lot of communication. It takes willingness to work out issues through communication. But a lot of the reasons we think ‘that could never work’ are reflexive judgements based on social constructs. Anyone who desires the benefits enough to put in the work of communicating can do Poly well, if they find it suits their needs. And when we look at fiction, characters who experience love for more than one character at a time can always be imagined in scenarios where that commitment is possible and can be achieved. There are so many valid ways those relationships can work.

And since I would always rather see my beloved characters end up happy than broken hearted, I’m always going to be intrigued by characters who figure out that Poly is an option, in fanworks or in canon. Maybe it’s not my endgame hope, maybe it is. Maybe both can be things I enjoy.

That doesn’t have to be everyone’s cup of tea.

But we should recognize that there are a lot of ways to arrange relationship in monogamous ways, as well as in polyamorous ones... and that Poly dynamics are often very different than monogamous one. So if someone says they’re sailing a poly ship for some characters... it’s probably not the S.S. Monogamy With Three People.

That ship is out there, but it’s only one of the many ships in the fleet.

And you have the option to tour a poly ship, or book passage on it, or stay aboard your own ship. Just...kindly don’t open your gun ports and fire off a volley because you don’t think the ship should be on the ocean if it’s flying a poly flag.

[writingstudent]

fresh flowers & the sun

A/N: I sobbed writing this. The love story you never asked for. Fluff and angst - you have been warned. I took @witchernonsense​ ‘s heartbreak and @owillofthewisps​ ‘s peace and reflection. 

You looked breathtaking. 

The first time Geralt saw you, you had a bouquet of peonies and wildflowers tucked into the intricate braids that adorned your hair, circling around the crown of your head like a nimbus. An angel gracing the world with the tender wrinkles around her smiling eyes. He hadn’t been able to say anything, he remained transfixed, as if some unspoken law forbid him from disturbing you.

Flowers. You always seemed to have them around you. Even now, they lay with you in your lap, curled slightly in your fingers. 

The delicate small embroidery that adorned the cloth you had packed provisions in. He would never leave them there for long, switching packages for the food as soon as he got out of your sight and neatly folding your cloth close to his chest. It would stay there until it was safely returned back to you. Always back to you. It was the fresh smell of lavender on his clothes as he rode away from your cottage, which reminded him of the soft evenings and days you had spent together. Even when you were not there, it seemed that you could not leave him alone for you plagued his thoughts and borrowed your way into his heart. 

No, he didn’t think you would ever truly leave him. Your softly colored skirts, pale pastels, would forever switch in his mind. 

You never seemed troubled. No matter how gloomy the day, a serene smile held tightly onto your lips. The winds could be howling in the skies, bright flashes of lightening weaving their web onto the starry sky and you would sigh happily - the flowers were getting watered. 

Your expression was relaxed, as always. Geralt let himself trace a calloused dinger on your cheekbones, pulling lightly to draw your lips into a fitting smile. You would have wanted to smile. 

You seemed otherworldly but you were always human. For the longest time, Geralt had tried to convince the both of you to see logic - there would only be suffering in your love. He would not age. He could not have children. The Witcher was bound to a life with no home or future - a life defined by the present and the past. By having him you would deprive yourself of a future Loving Geralt meant losing so many things that had he been less selfish, he would have never presented you with such a choice. But he wasn't. He was selfish and greedy and he wanted to finally feel loved to know a home. 

Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks at the sight of you. It was just you and him. No one else to witness this scene, to remember you. He was so terribly selfish. 

He whispered his love to you as the sun and the moon kissed breathlessly behind the milky clouds, a young love about to be pulled apart. You were his moon and he would always chase you. He took fewer hunts, and his adventures were never far for a couple of years. He knew he had to come back. Unlike him, you did not have time to waste. Your gentle smile and the fingers running through his hair told him that you didn’t mind. That you had time. He would choke back sobs to hear that. He could almost forgive some of the poor tormented souls he had met - humans were the monsters they begged for him to hunt for they were truly afraid of time. Time makes you do awfully careless things. 

Your skin was pale even under the warm caress of the spring sun. Your cheeks would never turn rosy again, as they did when you caught him staring and he shamelessly refused to look away. Never - nothing was eternal in life other than death. 

Your womb had gone ripe and had turned sour without producing a babe. The Witcher didn’t see you, but you stole longing glances at the cherubim features of toddlers, fisting their mother’s skirts at the market. Would it have had your eyes? You let yourself picture the rosy skin of a baby, with Geralt’s snowy hair and strong features, staring at you with eyes brightened in wonder. Your eyes. The thought had made you cry 

No one had ever called you mother, not will speak of you with fondness to their friends and children of their own. 

Watching you age had been the hardest thing Geralt had ever done. He wouldn’t leave you, for he had done this. He could not abandon the one soul that jumped ship, leaving their life and destiny for him. Always for him. So he stayed. he watched the soft curve of your back, where he traced his fingers at dusk, grow heavy and concave. Your glowing tight skin gave away slowly, like the petals of a wilting flower, curling slightly in wrinkles that made it seem like all of you were smiling. It was funny, really, how when your time was rushing by you, faster than ever, you only seemed to slow. The bounce in your step faded, and getting out of bed always took longer. 

Your hair was a soft shade now, almost matching the Witcher’s own locks. The pink peonies in it stood out more than ever, their color seeming a stark contrast against the braids he had just finished. You had always like your hair braided. 

The morning you had looked at him with a tired smile both of you watched the sunrise in silent understanding. he had made you your favorite tea, and your eyes watered slightly when he placed the mug on your nightstand with shaky hands. You would always rush, burning your tongue and whining about it. he told you to wait for it to cool down and you giggled lightly, closing your eyes. The tea lay cold in its mug. 

He layers you down in the smaller meadow in which he met you. You were smiling and had braids in your hair. He watched the moon kiss the sun with you, one last time, and saddled his horse. You had left but never was he alone. He was with your flowers and your sun, a handkerchief made of all his food parking. 

You left but his love for you had not. 

The legend is not true. The world breaks the hearts of witches so many times that it would have been a mercy for them to be born without one. 

You were otherworldly and you had finally gone home. 

[s-trawberryv-eins]

We’ll Keep You Safe

NOT MY GIF

We’ll Keep You Safe

Vals 400 writing challenge – prompt: “If you pass out I’m not going to catch you.”

Summary: Sibling bonding in the workshop takes a turn when Caroline gets sick.

Please read here before reading!

Stark!OC x Peter Parker x Morgan Stark

Warnings: Illness, super minor angst, FLUFF

Word count: 1755

A/N: This is my questionable entry for @valkyriesryde​s writing challengeE!!! Thanks for letting me enter about two minutes ago, I love stress. Huge thanks to @crushedbyhyperbole​ for fixing my mistakes ;) I was tempted to write this as a reader insert but I decided to keep it within the Caroline Stark Series. Hope that’s okay with all my 3 fans! Enjoy :)

 AVENGERS COMPOUND

THE STARK WORKSHOP

Caroline remembers the day she met Peter as if it was yesterday. The day she really met him; as Tony's daughter, not as a S.H.I.E.L.D. employee. It’d surprised her how upset Parker had been upon discovering Caroline was Tony’s. Pepper had explained their relationship after in incident in Berlin, but she couldn't really understand it then. At 18, she thought it unfair that whilst she lived under a fake name, hiding in the shadows, her father was all but publicly claiming the boy he'd known for two minutes.

An uncharacteristic bitterness ran through her veins, and she'd refused to meet him. Tony confessed that he would’ve told Peter of her true parentage, had she been willing, but the doctor took her frustrations out on the boy despite it being obvious her upset was really with her father.

It’d had taken some time for Caroline and Tony to actually talk about the problem. Pepper had forced the two to sit down and talk it through.

“I know what I sound like Dad, okay? I know that I'm kept a secret for a reason, I get it. But it hurts! To see you out there, like father and son, with a kid you've known for 2 minutes! I can’t even post a picture of us on my Instagram, yet you two are the headline of every newspaper in New York."

He'd been speechless at first, kicking himself for not understanding what his daughter struggled to say. Taking his hands in hers, he promised to fix the problem. 

If only he’d had the time.

-

“We could add an override? Like, in case she's in real trouble?”

“I toyed around with the idea, but if it fell into the wrong hands? I don’t think she needs it. I’ll control the suit, she’ll have basic autonomy, but it'll be myself and FRIDAY doing the work.” 

Peter and Caroline were playing with the idea of an in-case-of-emergencies suit for Morgan. It was armour more than anything, a way to keep her safe if she ever found herself in danger.

“I wanna shoot bad guys.” Peter ruffled the young girl’s hair with a laugh, crouching down to her height.

 “What’s your superhero name gonna be? You’ll need to think of one.” Upon realising that she had an important task, Morgan raced over to her desk - the one Caroline had created for her one day after a fall from a stool resulted in a trip to the med bay for stitches. Morgan had slept in her little workshop that very first night, sat on her chair with her head resting on her desk amongst her stationary and Morgan-friendly tools. Even now, it was difficult to pull her away.

“What's your superhero name Caroline?” Morgan appeared distracted as she asked, but Peter seemed interested by her answer.

“I don’t really know, actually. The Doctor seems to have stuck with the media; the team call me Doc, I guess they got it from that? I’m not…” Pausing mid-sentence, Caroline pressed her fingers to her temples, wincing as she did. Having woken with a small headache, she’d taken some paracetamol and forgotten about it. It seemed to be worsening, an ever-present thumping pain at the forefront of her head.

“You good, Care?” Parker’s voice pulled her from her thoughts and she nodded quickly.

“FRIDAY, do you have Mo’s measurements?” The holographic screen the AI produced displayed a digital scan of the smallest Stark and allowed them to run the first mark of her suit.

“Baby come here a minute please?" Caroline summoned Morgan with a wince, the pain in her head almost unbearable.

Peter began to attach the nano-sensors to the girls skin. One on each temple, one on her back, and one on each hand. Sticky and cold, Morgan squealed playfully at the sensation. Once the sensors were attached, the doctor would be able to have the nanotech suit form around Morgan's frame, allowing her and Peter to adapt it and configure it as they saw fit. 

“It tickles!” The little girl giggled as the suit formed around her, but Caroline didn't hear her sister. Turned away from the younger Stark and Spider-Man with her head in her hands, she struggled to concentrate on her surroundings. Peter watched over Morgan, as did the AI who continued to monitor her vitals and the nanotech itself.

“Care?” Peter’s voice was soft as he spoke, excitement lacing his tone due to the progression of their project. When he didn't receive an answer, he turned to face her. "Caroline? Hey!” Still nothing.

Bouncing round to face her, he placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to gain a response.

“HEY! You need to lie down or something?” Snapping her head up at the sudden closeness of his voice, she forced a laugh and shook her head.

“No! Just a little headache.” The lie came easily; the 'little headache’ she was experiencing felt more like what one would expect to feel if they’d been hit in the head with Mjolnir. 

“If you pass out I’m not catching you." Though Peter’s words were playful, the look in his eyes was one of concern. After the two had cleared the air regarding her identity, they'd quickly formed a sibling-like relationship. In truth, he'd found a sister in both Stark girls. There was a sadness that lurked sometimes, knowing that they didn't come together as the family they were until after Tony died. Peter and Caroline visited him sometimes, together. They’d sit, leave flowers, and tell stories of their recent adventures. The team knew of their visits and would always know what they needed when they returned home. Caroline liked tea and quiet company, usually in the form of Bucky or Wanda. Peter tended to seek Morgan out straight away, needing the distraction minding a child would bring.

“Whatever, Parker.” Smiling at him despite the pain, she couldn’t help but bite at his words.

“Mo? How ya feeling?” The metal that covered the girls body was grey; they'd style it later, they'd been provided with very specific instructions in that department.

“I like it! Do I get lasers? And blasters? Or webs?!" The older Stark sister had thought of keeping the whole project a secret but figured it'd be something fun to do with Morgan. How she wished she’d kept it under wraps.

“I can do lasers. That's it.” Peter’s eyes grew wide at her words, the wink he received not doing a great deal for his nerves.

"Peter, can you help her out of the suit and upload the mark?” Caroline headed to the other side of the room where she’d been assembling a bracelet to store the sensors in. Morgan would wear it at all times, and whenever FRIDAY was alerted, she'd activate the bracelet, thus rendering Morgan a little safer.

Maximoff had designed the bracelet. With an eye for pretty things, she was far better suited for the task. All Caroline had to do was weave the sensors into the piece of jewellery and have Morgan promise not to take it off. Peter removed the sensor pads from Morgan's’s skin and handed them to Caroline to extract them. 

“What colours do you want?” Peter sat down with Morgan and let the girl play around with the colour features, allowing the doctor to concentrate.

Grabbing a pair of tweezers, Caroline squinted as she tried to remove the tiny pieces of tech. The pounding in her head seemed to worsen, her vision suddenly blurring. Reaching out to the desk in front of her, she grabbed on to try and steady herself, the room spinning around her.

“FRI?”

“Mr Parker, Miss Stark is in need of assistance.” It barely took him a second to leap to his feet.

“Contact Dr Cho, tell her to meet me in the med bay now.”

The colour had drained from Caroline’s face and her eyes were screwed shut by the time Peter reached her. 

“I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

She turned to Peter weakly and was about to respond when her vision blurred further, and her knees gave way. Unable to even brace herself for impact, she whimpered as fear shot through her. 

Peter never let her hit the ground, of course. Scooping the doctor into his arms, he scolded her softly for her refusal to take care of herself.

“C’mon, Care. Why’d you lie? Is it your head?” Peter fussed, but her only reply was a mumbled apology and a grimace.

“FRIDAY? Get Barnes there too? He’ll wanna see her. Come on Morgan, Caroline’s kinda sick so we need to take her to the med bay.” Morgan ran alongside the Avenger, giving her sister a once over before running off to find Helen.

“Doctor Cho! Caroline fell over!” Her voice echoed quietly through the halls as she ran off, Peter laughing at her childlike view of the situation. 

"You can't do this. I know it’s just a migraine or something, but we need you, ya know? An- and-“ sighing as he tripped over his words, the Parker boy grew frustrated "-and you can’t do this! Me and Morgan need you!” 

Cho was waiting, the med bay doors open for their arrival. Peter followed Helen's directions, laying her down where he was told to. Bucky was there, requesting a grown-up explanation of the situation; Morgan’s version not quite cutting it (although he'd never tell her that). The boy was visibly shaken but calmed significantly when Barnes sat with him a while, talking him down from his anxiety-ridden state.

Caroline whimpered in pain as Helen inserted a needle into the crook of her arm, but she quietened as the pain meds entered her bloodstream. Consciousness gave way to sleep as her brain grew heavier, and she didn’t fight it.

-

Eyes fluttered open but shut tightly when greeted with a bright light. A squeeze to her hand brought her attention to her right, where Bucky sat with a gentle smile on his face. No words were spoken, he simply kept his grip on her hand and returned to the book that lay in his lap.

“Caroline?” Parker's voice came from the left, her attention drifting there instead. “I’m glad you’re okay. I‘m sorry for snapping at you.” His words seemed to be filled with guilt, a guilt she didn't deem at all necessary.

With bright eyes - a little hazy from the medication - and a lazy smile, she reached out for his hand.

“I passed out and you caught me.”

[bluboothalassophile]

hello blu, can i request a jayrae AU story, where Rae is a mermaid? i saw a fanart by ihavepinkknees, (ihavepinkknees(.)tumblr(.)com/post/173716945783), and i was wondering if you could make one story.

Hello,

Long time coming, but here we are! A new AU and finally I got a chance to write it down. So I hope you enjoy and thank you for the patience! Also check out @ihavepinkknees‘s art work for she is amazing, and let us thank @xaphrin and @chromium7skyfore the inspiration for this AU!

Hallucinations & Brain Tumors…

It was a rare day for her, of no servitude or requirementsfor work, and it was a rarer day still that she could get out of the cavebefore her aunt started in on her on all she needed to get done. So she wassecretly practicing her magic in alcove, with a sandy base on the ground, highrock walls around her, and a reef hiding her from view. It was a tad too closeto humans for her comfort but she couldn’t attend the Silent School to learn soit was a matter of taking everything she saw the princes and nobles doing whenshe was working. It was frustrating, but if she didn’t get this under controlshe’d probably accidentally kill someone.

Frustrated she swam around the sandy pit she had claimed forher work, and shook out her hands, then she started to focus and work with whatshe had.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason wasn’t acomplicated guy, he ran tours around the islands, went surfing daily, taughtscuba lessons, and worked a fishing rig on weekends. He’d been doing this sincehe was sixteen and ran away from his home in Gotham. He wasn’t a complicatedguy, he was quiet, kept to himself, kept out of trouble, was working on joiningthe fire department here, and was looking into colleges now. He was twenty-fiveand he just now started feeling secure enough in his life and mindset to moveforward with his life. It wasn’t like Dick was here to cast a shadow, or Tim toshow him up, or Damian here to squawk about how only blood mattered. It wasn’tlike that here.

Sure, Jay missed Cass, Stephanie, Tim and Duke, but thetrade off of no Dick, Babs, Harper, Kate, and Damian made it worth it.

The other big bonus was there was no insane people here; notlike in the city of Gotham. Besides, Jason found he liked the sun, the work,and the ocean; it soothed his soul in a way he couldn’t explain. Which was whatbrought him here as he started prepping for the day. It was a simple task, justa matter of cleaning up a bit, organizing, checking over supplies, checkingsafety and engines, he double checked everything as he worked, his partner andbest friend, Roy Harper walked up, two cups of coffee in hand, and a haggardlook. Roy was a newly rehabbed addict, went to his NA and AA meetingsreligiously, and had just recently gained custody of his baby girl from hercrazy ass junkie mother. Jade Nguyen was a crazy bitch sober, and a fuckingpsycho when she was getting off on whatever poison she selected at the time,Jason had had a few run ins with her when he was saving his goddaughter fromthe drama of Jade Nguyen’s destructive tendencies. Which was why Jason washappy Roy had taken his sobriety and rehab seriously this time around.

“Morning,” Jason greeted accepting the coffee.

“Morning,” Roy yawned.

“Lian?” he asked.

“She would not sleep,” he admitted.

“Damn.”

“How we looking?”

“We’ll be set for our schedule today,” Jason said tying offa few things. He turned just in time to see a man pistol whip Roy off the boat,his friend too stunned to react, and then his face had a muzzle in it, whichhad him holding up his hands.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Raven hissed as she was thrown back into the rocks from hermagic, hitting it hard as she rolled to the ground. She lashed her fin inirritation. Unlike many Atlanteans who had a humanoid appearance, she had, likeher Merman ancestors, only the top half which looked human and long porpoiselike fin. Her coloring was rather dark, which was a star contrast to her upperhalf’s paleness, and almost like an orca in pattern over her body. The violet-blackhair around her was annoying as she again pulled it back, weaving it quickly asshe righted herself upright to retry the spell again. Her tail flickedsteadily, and she moved her webbed hands swiftly as she whispered the incantation.

A heavy splash overhead had her head snapping up as a shiprolled over the sun, and she bolted for the cave, twisting around when sheheard a sound of distress.

Something came rapidly plummeting towards her little hideaway, as the ship continued on, it landed with a soft but heavy thud, shewinced at the kicked up cloud of mud and sand. There was a struggling figure attached,looking like the Atlanteans; a human!

She watched the person struggle, trying to escape, sheinternally debated breaking the King’s laws when she saw him losing fight. Sheflew forward then, catching his shoulders.

King be damned, she’d get him out of here. She saw thechains wrapped around him, ignoring his startled eyes she ignored him as sheworked. The spells came easily as she wound the water around the chains andchanged the force, she heard them snapping, he was just fading, floating therewhen she grabbed his chest and pushed for the surface. Breaking the surface sheheard him take a hefty gasp as he coughed and choked which had her angling herlonger body beneath his so he could stay upright, while she nervously scannedaround for humans. He finally caught his breath and she found herself staring intobrilliant colored eyes which were startled.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason was having a hell of a day.

First his brother Dick’s debt collectors show up, then hewas drowning, now he was here, staring into the startled dark eyes of a beautifulwoman; most beautiful one he had ever seen, and she was a freaking mermaid!

“I think I’m hallucinating,” he muttered.

She stared at him, her hair floating around her, and he sawthe long tail fin stretched out, and it was now that he noticed she was keepinghim afloat. Then she was gone, he gasped as he watched her twist around anddisappear into the blue depths of the reef beneath him.

Now was the time to go to the hospital and check if he had afucking brain tumor; then go kill Dickhead for whatever trouble had just beenunleashed on his peaceful life.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Animal (12)

Chadwick Boseman X Original Female Character “Sianna”

Chapter Warning: Cursing, Angst, Plot

Word Count: 4.7K

Note: I know 2 months overdue, I’m sorry. I hope you guys enjoy this. By the way, Tumblr is on the BS and flagged the first post of this because my moodboard had a portrayal of backshots. LMFAO!!!! So 2nd try and no moodboard. Also, I apologize if the spacing is off, I worked really hard going through trying to make the spacing stick. Again, Tumblr is on that BS.

As always thank you for reading, I appreciate you!

**Loosely edited/Proofread***

Thank you guys for reading!!!  If you enjoyed this please LIKE, REBLOG, COMMENT. ❤️ ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Sianna-

“I have no excuse for my actions, and I won’t make any, I just need you to forgive me.”

“I was a major asshole, Sianna. I’m sorry.”

“You lied, you’re still pregnant.”

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through these last weeks thinking that I was the reason you aborted the baby, I was at fault for my own child being–, how could do that?”

“Here I thought that there was something between us, something from Jamaica that traveled to Barbados, something that wouldn’t let either of us go. Then, these last few weeks I was depressing over the fact that I’d screwed up so bad that I lost you without giving this a real chance to be something and here you are.”

<><><><><>

His words flashed through your head as did the memory of last night. They occupied your brain so much you barely slept, and you were feeling the consequences of lack of sleep. You stretched your back for the tenth time this morning as you walked around your office. You walked to the window and gazed out, not looking at one thing in particular. Suddenly your mother’s old ass passed along from ancestor to ancestor cautionary words popped into your head.

What a twisted web we weave when we practice to deceive.

You groaned and rolled your eyes. She must have said them to you countless times since you were a child. When you lied and then were caught, she said them, when she heard some gossip about the neighbor or one of the other kids she’d say them, when your father got on her nerves every once in a while she’d say them. You could hear her voice as if she were standing right next to you.

You didn’t plan to weave any web, and you certainly didn’t plan to deceive anyone. Okay yes, you wanted to keep the truth from Chad but only for a little while. You were furious when you said the words at the lake. You saw red with all the accusations and slander; you could barely help yourself. Once you’d calmed down some, you regretted it—only slightly though. In hindsight, you could see how Chad would have felt given the limited information.

You groaned again. How were you supposed to know he even gave a damn about he baby?

“Shit.”

You put your hand on your stomach. He still thought it was just one baby instead of two. Your stomach filled with butterflies at telling him.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through these last weeks thinking that I was the reason you aborted the baby, I was at fault for my own child being–.”

“He gives a damn Sianna,” you said to yourself.

You bit your bottom lip still hearing his voice echo through your head.

Or he gave a damn. The look on his face when he saw Chino and the flowers spoke volumes. He was hurt, angry, jealous, and sad even.

“Oh god, Chino.”

You gripped your head and shook it. You knew he had feelings for you. You knew he wanted more than you gave him. He tried to keep his hands respectful at all times, tried to go as slow as you wanted, but it was clear to you how he felt. You felt bad. Part of you–a really huge part was still pining after Chadwick.

“You shouldn’t have used him as a distraction, Sianna,” you said to yourself.

You knew it while you were doing it. If you start something messy, it will end messy, but it wasn’t all a distraction. You were beginning to like Chino. He was a good guy, and he treated you well. You felt fluttering in your stomach, and you paused, trying to decipher if those were kicks. It felt similar to butterfly wings tapping against your skin, but a little more forceful. You felt the sensation again, and a smile spread across your face. You slowly rubbed your expanding belly adoringly. To think you were going to terminate not too long ago.

Your mind went back to Chadwick. You had his children growing inside you. Two brand new lives that didn’t choose the current situation. Two innocent souls that deserved your best—his too. You took a deep breath and decided to put on your big girl panties. You walked over to your desk and opened the top drawer. You riffled through the papers for the card he’d sent weeks ago after he realized who you were. You found the white card and stared at the note again. 

“I’ve been thinking about you and would love to see you. Call me, please; 213-399-2811. Can’t wait to hear from you.”

You smiled, remembering the day you got the flowers and the note. You didn’t call him, one because you were convinced he was screwing your arch nemesis and two you knew if you did you’d end up sleeping with him again. You proved yourself right on several occasions after. You took up your cell and began tapping the numbers in. Once you had the numbers entered your finger hovered over the “call” button. You stared at it and went over the possibilities.

He might not answer; it’s a random number. He might hang up on you once he heard your voice. He might yell and call you all the names in the book—again. He might be happy. You rolled your eyes at the last one because it was unlikely because of how he acted the night before. You were probably enemy number one for him. You sighed and tapped the “call” button. You waited as it rang four times before it went to voicemail. You expected as much. You debated if you should leave a message. What would you say? “Sorry about last night, you weren’t supposed to find out yet, but yeah I’m pregnant, it’s twins.” You shook your head, and the voicemail tone brought you back. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You quickly hung up and slapped yourself in the forehead with the phone.

“You’re an idiot Sianna.”

“Sianna?” You looked up and saw your assistant standing there.

“Yes.” She looked over you and stopped at your stomach. You scoffed.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, I am.”

Her face spread in the fullest, happiest smile you’d ever seen. She rushed to you and hugged you.

“Oh my god, that’s great. Congratulation.”

“It is? Thank you.”

“Yes, babies are blessings, and yours is going to be beautiful.”

You smiled. She was always good for this, making you smile with her sweetness.

“How far along?”

“Uh, fiveish or so months,” you responded.

“I’m so happy for you.”

You nodded and smiled also; you couldn’t help it, her happiness was infectious.

“Eh-em, let’s get down to business,” you said, walking to your seat.

She began giving you the highlights of the last few days, relaying messages. After your meeting was finished, you began to walk the floor. You had to oversee the shipping to the department stores, and you refused to leave it up to anyone else. Your father always said if you want a job done well, you do it yourself; only you know your level of standard. So that’s what you did, you spent hours prepping the orders for the stores. You double and triple checked that the quantity was correct and that each piece of clothing was in its best shape which meant no hanging thread, not one hole, you were very anal about it.

By the time you had a moment to yourself, it was well past lunch. You sat in your office with the door closed, and blinds closed leaning back fully in your reclinable office chair. You took the time to enjoy the silence then your mind went to Chadwick again. You took up your phone and dialed the number again. It rang three times before someone that didn’t sound like him answered.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hello?”

“Yeah, how can I help?”

“Who’s this?”

“This is Tye. Who’s this?”

“Uh, well; why are you answering Chadwick’s phone?”

“I’m his agent. Who are you?”

“Um, my name is Sianna. I was hoping to talk to him.”

“Unfortunately Chadwick is tied up at the moment. He’s doing a photo shoot. I will have him call you back. Is this about business? If so, you should be talking to me.”

“No, not business. It’s personal.”

Tye didn’t speak for a few moments.

“Okay. I’ll have him return your call.”

He hung up after that. You looked at your phone, finding it strange. You shrugged it off. You closed your eyes and sunk back into the comfort of the chair. You felt a dull throb at your tailbone and arched your back trying to stretch it out. From what you read, this pain would get worse as your pregnancy went on. You read those carrying multiples felt it more. You groaned and quickly drifted to sleep.

The rest of the day went by in a whirl and a haze. It was a busy one spent prepping all the distribution orders; in total you had over two hundred orders that went out. The rest of the week, you had to send out the same number if you would meet your self imposed deadline of fourteen hundred. While it was a busy day, you took note that there were no calls from Chadwick or Chino.

When you made it home, you decided to push all man worries to the side. Hell, you weren’t sure either of them was worth the stress or the headache. You climbed in a bath and allowed the sea salts, oils, and flower petals to work their magic on your muscles and skin. Again as if you hadn’t slept all day, you drifted to sleep. When you woke up, the fragrant water was cold, and the candles you’d laid around the bathroom were burned out. You climbed out of the water and wrapped in your favorite robe.

You passed a clock and saw it was almost one in the morning. You were tempted to forgo your nighttime routine and just topple in the bed and fall back to sleep but knew your hair would hate you and in the morning your skin would be as thirsty as the cement on a scorching summer day. So you fought off the exhaustion and lotioned your skin with the blend of Shea, and mango butter concoction you made. You didn’t trust your skin to just any skincare company. From when you learned to make products you’d been doing it. You smelled the jar and moaned as the lavender, rosehip, Orange blossom, and lemon aromas hit your nose. You took the time to lotion every inch of your skin, especially your stomach. While you had a few across your backside, you didn’t anywhere else, but you’d also read of stretch marks pregnant women got, and you were not looking forward to them.

Once you finished, you lied in bed ready to fall into the deepest sleep of your life but your phone rang. You groaned remembering you’d left it in the living room.

“Who the fuck is calling at one in the morning?”

You debated if you really needed to answer it, after a quick back and forth with your work ethic you stifled it and closed your eyes. You were tired. The ringing stopped, and all was quiet again until a few moments later it began ringing again. You groaned again, angrily flung the covers to the side, and climbed out the bed. As you walked to the living room, your bitch face was painted on. You grabbed the phone and answered without looking at the ID.

“What!?”

Silence. You kissed your teeth, reaching a new level of annoyance.

“Jesus Christ!” You pinched your nose bridge trying to soothe the annoyance a little.

“Sianna?” Chadwick said. You opened your eyes, shock filling you.

“Hello? Sianna? Are you there?”

“Ehm, yes, I’m here.”

Silence.

You chewed your bottom lip, your nerves taking over. You could practically hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“I heard from Tye you called,” Chadwick said.

“Yes, yes, I did way earlier.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Silence, this one wasn’t as long though before he began speaking again.

Actually, you know what I’m not sorry. It’s just I wasn’t going to call you back—at all. I was just going to—ignore the message. Then I thought you’re pregnant and something could be wrong, or you needed my help with something and I—I couldn’t not—call you back,” he explained

You sighed and tried not to take offense. He was only calling you back because he thought you were hurt. You dropped into your couch, feeling disappointed and hurt.

“So are you okay? Are you hurt? Is the baby okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m not hurt, everything is fine,” you answered.

“Okay, so good. I’m gonna–,” he trailed off.

“Chad wait–,”

He sighed out, and you could hear his impatience.

“For what Sianna?”

“So we can talk. I called so we can talk.”

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about unless it’s about that baby you’re carrying. Wait, I can’t keep up today, do you still have a baby in there?”

“Of course there is—,”

You sighed and rubbed your forehead.

“You’re right; we have a lot to talk about regarding this pregnancy. Right now I’m too exhausted to think or control my smart mouth so right now will not work. Tomorrow.”

Silence. You were getting tired of his silence. After a few moments almost a minute he sighed again.

“Fine. Where? The park, same spot?”

Your head instantly flew back to your rendezvous in the park next to the lake. The hairs on your arms immediately stood up, remembering how he touched you, kissed you, pleased you. Before you could stop it, a groan escaped your lips.

Silence.

“How about the pier, Santa Monica,” you suggested.

“Santa Monica?”

“It’s out of the heart of LA and private, I’m sure paparazzi is a problem for you,” you explained.

You bite your bottom lip waiting for him to answer, hoping he said yes.

“Fine. What time?”

“Not early please lately I can barely keep my eyes open. Noon?”

“Fine. Good night.”

With that, Chadwick hung up. You pulled the phone from your ear and looked at it. while part of you felt he was being unfair, the other part of you felt like he was treating you justly. You did lie to him about the pregnancy, technically two times. You were found with another man coming to your home at a time that spoke of intimacy. Yes, he didn’t own you, and you didn’t owe him shit, you could admit it looked suspicious. You sighed again and made your way back to your bedroom to attempt to fall into that deep sleep you needed.

**********

-Santa Monica-

The drive to the pier was almost as stressful as the drive to the park to tell him you were pregnant. For this trip, he already knew. This trip was to tell him you were pregnant with twins and to apologize for lying about the abortion — nothing else.

As you pulled into the pier parking lot, you stared yourself in the eye in the rearview mirror.

“Nothing else Sianna, nothing else!”

You parked and got out of your car. You walked to the pier, and it felt like you were walking to the marching squad. You looked around and noted it was wide open. There was no way you were going to have sex with him. You breathed a breath of relief before you saw him. He stood all the way at the bottom of the pier looking out to the horizon. God, he looked good, you thought. Your eyes raked over his figure and took new appreciation for how God crafted the black man. His frame looked built for protecting, built to withstand any obstacle thrown his way; he looked as if God kept in mind firmness and strength when he created him. As your eyes dropped to his backside, you sunk your top teeth into your bottom lip. It was sinful the reaction you had to this man.

“It’s hormones, that’s it,” you whispered to yourself knowing you were full of shit. It had always been this way since you laid eyes on him in Jamaica.

As if sensing you approaching, he turned and watched you close the distance between you. You noted the hard expression on his face and the coldness in his eyes. That was new, you thought to yourself before coming to a stop before him. Neither of you spoke, you just stared at each other. After nearly a minute, Chadwick looked down to his feet.

“So?”

You cleared your throat and walked closer to the railing and leaned on it. You looked out over the vast ocean and took a deep breath. You felt calmer and waited a few more minutes, hoping your courage would build. When you didn’t speak, you heard Chadwick release an exasperated breath.

“Sianna—,”

“I’m sorry. I am really sorry,” you blurted out. He looked at you then back to the ocean, but you saw the clench in his jaw.

“Sorry, huh. Sorry for what?”

“You know for what.”

“I don’t. It seems you’ve done several things that would warrant an apology — for starters thinking the worst of me from seeing me at your fashion show, assuming and pretty much calling me a liar just because of my associations. Waiting weeks, nearly months before telling me you were pregnant despite seeing me several times and having several chances. Lying to me about having an abortion. Keeping the fact you remained pregnant from me for weeks. Jesus, does that about sum it up?”

You stood there wanting to object to everything he said but you couldn’t because he was right. You did do all of those things. The one thing he didn’t mention was you dating Chino; you wondered if he didn’t really care about that or if he intentionally kept it off the list. You looked at him.

“You’ve been lying since damn near the minute we met,” Chadwick accused.

“I have not. The only lies I told were about the pregnancy, that’s it. Everything else was real.”

He looked at you and kept eye contact with you; he looked as if he were scanning your eyes for any sign of a lie. He wouldn’t find one because you were being gut-wrenchingly honest.

“Jamaica was real, Barbados was real, the club, the park—it was all real Chad.”

He sniffed, looked away, and rested his elbows on the railing, and stared out to the ocean. Several more moments passed in silence.

“You’re right though, I have lied about a lot of things about the pregnancy, and I am truly sorry for that.”

“Why did you lie?”

“I was terrified Chad, like seriously terrified. I went on vacation to kick back before the storm, and you happened. I come back and bam I’m pregnant. I didn’t expect it, plan it, or want it. I was scared for so many reasons I can’t even begin to explain. I didn’t know what I wanted to do or what I was supposed to do. Then I was so furious at you for the things you said to me, and how you acted, I was hurt, and I saw red, and before I knew it, I’d said it.”

You didn’t dare look at him; you kept your eyes glued to the water and tried to allow the swaying of the waves to calm your rising anxieties. He didn’t speak, but you felt his eyes on you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sianna. I wasn’t thinking at all. I’m ashamed of the way I acted, the things I said–,” Chadwick trailed off, lowering his head in shame.

“I was not raised to be that man, and I’m sorry.”

You looked at him and held his gaze. You saw the sincerity in his words and knew he meant the apology. Standing beside him, you felt your body’s want to get closer to him. You felt the need your body still had for him, and while it was tempting to give in to the need, you knew you shouldn’t. You bit your bottom lip and watched as his eyes dropped to your mouth. His expression changed to one you recognized, one you were familiar with because you spent an entire night with that expression. After a few moments, Chadwick cleared his throat and stepped back, creating more space between your bodies. You tried not to feel anything about it, but the hint of rejection was unrelenting. In an effort to break free from it, you cleared your throat and looked back to the ocean.

“So um, do you need a DNA test?”

He sighed out but didn’t hesitate.

“No.”

You looked at him and studied the side of his face.

“Why not? A few weeks ago you brought it up—,”

“I know it’s mine. I don’t need to test it to be certain.”

You were impressed and kind of touched. You expected him to be gung-ho about a DNA test, so this was unexpected. You nodded and looked back to the water and allowed an anxious silence to fall between you again. You wondered what he was thinking and why he was so quiet. No doubt he had a lot going on in his head but so did you. There was so much to say, so much to figure out.

“Ah, before you keep saying “it,” there is one more thing,” you began.

Chadwick looked at you with a confused expression ten turned his body to face you fully. You took a deep breath and turned to him as well. His eyes dropped to your stomach, and he stared at it.

“There are two babies, twins.”

His face slowly sparked with emotion, first shock then horror and back to shock before he finished off with a look that placed a small smile on his lips. He looked to your face then back to your stomach and back and forth several times.

“Tw—twins? You’re sure?”

“Oh yeah very sure, doctor and ultrasound confirmed.”

“Wow. Are you—are they?”

“Yes, we’re all fine.”

“Do you know the sex?”

You shook your head.

“Not yet, hasn’t been the time yet.”

He nodded and looked shocked again. You knew it was a lot to wrap your head around. You’d gone through these emotions before.

“Wow, I can’t believe any of this. A few months ago my biggest concern was trying not to be typecasted after Black Panther, and now there’s this.”

You looked down and felt as if you were burdening him.

“Look, I don’t mean for this to be a burden to you. That is the last thing I want. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re obligated to do anything concerning these babies or me. I just—you had a right to know.”

He looked at you with a blank expression then looked back out to sea.

“Are you saying that you don’t want me involved? You don’t want me to be a part of their lives?”

The fact that he said “their” lives and not “your” life was not lost on you. You heard it and although it hurt a little you understood. You didn’t know anything about each other except the frivolous stuff, and you’d lied to him for the last five weeks at least. You got it.

“I’m saying that I don’t need you to be if you would rather not be. I a good life, a good career, I make good money, I have amazing friends and family and I can more than take care of them on my own. I don’t need anything from you that you wish not to give. So, it boils down to the decision being yours,” you explained trying to tiptoe on the eggshells you felt this conversation to be.

“Thank you for telling me all about what you don’t need. What do you want? Do you want me involved or not?”

Damn, checkmate. You didn’t know, and that was the honest to god truth. You didn’t know if you wanted him anywhere near this pregnancy or the babies’ lives. Now that may make you a bitch or a horrible person, but that was where you were. As if he sensed your answer, he looked down and nodded again.

“I don’t know. I’m just getting used to the idea of the pregnancy as a whole and what the next eighteen to twenty years of my life are going to look like. I just haven’t thought about anything else.”

He fell silent again. You thought you’d offended him and upset the mellowness of this meet and regretted opening your mouth.

“What do you want?”

You were afraid to hear his answer. It could have been anything, he could say take you to court for custody, or never see your face again. You didn’t know which response made you more nervous. You couldn’t believe life was throwing you this massive curveball for nothing. There had to be a reason, a purpose for all of this.

“I don’t know. This is sudden. A few weeks ago, it tore me up that you’d gotten an abortion, straight made me sick to my stomach that I was the reason I’d never meet my own flesh and blood and I was upset with myself. I really was. But you’re still pregnant, and the possibility is there, and it’s terrifying. Yeah, I wanted a family in life at some point. I wanted to be more established and settled and secure than I currently am, but I guess life had other plans. So being faced with it now there’s so much,” he finished.

Again, you understood completely. There was no way he could answer anything with all this information being so fresh.

“Seems like we both have a lot of thinking to do.”

You nodded.

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“Thank you for apologizing.”

“Thank you for not kicking me in the nuts; I may have deserved it.”

You smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, that and so much more.”

Chadwick snorted, and you smiled and looked at him just at the same time he looked at you. You both stared at each other for several long moments, and you felt the same way you did in Jamaica that first night you saw him. The night that started everything. You wondered if he was thinking about the same thing you were. Was he reminiscing about the first time he saw you, touched you, felt your body on his, kissed you? Was he daydreaming about the night these babies were most likely conceived? He bit his bottom lip, and your attention went right to them. It had been so long since you’d tasted his lips. So long since you’d smelled the unique scent your bodies created together. How was it possible to want one man this much you asked yourself? How was it possible to be so angry and hurt by someone but also want to be near them, be with them? It was infuriating. Chadwick looked away and cleared his throat loudly.

“I have to make it back to LA.”

You nodded and stepped back. You hadn’t even realized your body drifted closer to his like a magnet attracting you.

“Yeah, so I’ll uh keep in touch about things,” you announced.

“Thank you.”

“And don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me,” you cornily joked as you rubbed your burgeoning belly. As soon as the words escaped you, you groaned.

“Wow, that was horrible,” you whispered.

“Nah, not horrible. Corny, but not horrible,” he teased. You smiled and probably blushed. You then began walking down the boardwalk with Chadwick instep with you.

You smiled to yourself and tried to not feel like a schoolgirl. Once you made it to the parking lot, Chadwick pointed to the right, and you pointed to the left. He followed you to the car and opened your door for you. This was the man you remembered. You slid in the driver’s seat and grunted. He shut the door and smiled at you again before he waved and walked to his car. As you watched him go, you breathed out.

“Platonic Sianna, platonic.”

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[angeldoggowow]

Ashes to Ashes

Amy treks the path up the mountain, determination shining on her  face. With each step she can feel herself getting more and more tired, wanting to sit down, wanting to rest. She shakes away the feeling and jogs up the mountain trail, now forgotten by society. Wild thorn bushes stab at her legs and trip her, other plants grab her blond hair. The trees above drop leaves like rain and shake, seemingly with fear. Amy runs her hand along every tree she passes and gently grabs the leaves of plants as she passes. The crunch and crack of twigs and dead leaves under her feet calms her racing heart, but she’s thinking a million miles a minute. Every few steps her feet hit a wooden plank which is meant to be part of some stairs that have fallen away long ago. She looks up, the sky clouding over, “It looks like it’s about to rain!” Amy gets pulled back by her shorts. “Aaii!” she squeaks, ripping away from the rogue branch. She pats her shorts as she continues on her way.

Amy giggled as she watched the group of children climb the mountain. “They won’t ever find me up here!” she whispered against the trees damp bark. They trek away up the path. Minutes pass like hours, and the sky goes from baby blue to vivid oranges, purples, and even pinks. Amy dangled her feet over the edge of the branch absentmindedly. Have they forgotten about me? Tears pricked in her eyes as she hurriedly scuttled down the tree. She landed on the ground, dried leaves getting crushed under her tiny feet. Pushing herself away from the tree she now feared, she sprinted up the trail. Amy smacked away any leaves or branches in her way. It seemed like she stepped on every throne branch on the ground and tripped on every bump and rock. She finally got to the temple and ran into her friend’s arms, sobbing. “I-I-I wa-was so s-sc-scared!!” Her friends looked at each other, but shrugged. Amy’s heavy breaths ring in her head as she reaches the place she has been trying to get to: a old temple. The stone temple is covered in moss, vines, and other plant matter that has dyed the stone green. The roof curves downward and has holes in several places. Part of the roof has fallen in and one wall has crumbled to rubble. The wooden arches leading to the temple itself has rotted and fallen apart. Amy calms herself before stepping onto the stone path leading to the ruins. Her bare feet slightly stick to the cold stones. As she passes, Amy puts her hand on the arch. “Damp, like always,” she murmurs sadly. She looks at the stone pillars that were said to reach the gods. Behind her there’s a sickening crack and a thud. She turns, and sees the first wood arch has finally fallen. Amy stares at it, her green eyes clouding over with thought. Laughter rang out amongst the pillars as children ran in and out of them. Amy ran from the pillars to the arches and spun around them happily. The other kids follow her like ducklings, still giggling and laughing. “This is the gate of the gods!” Amy cheered, weaving in and out of them and her friends. The children stopped in their tracks, staring up at the wooden torii gate. “A-amy...we’re not supposed to mess with them…” one of them stuttered out. “But we’re not messing with them! We’re dancing around them!” Amy stated, twirling around. They looked at each other before a few shrugged and joined Amy in her frolicking. The rest, one by one, joined her. The only one who didn’t was a little girl who hadn’t followed them to begin with in favor of sitting on the steps of the temple and reading. Amy finally spotted her and broke from the rest of the kids. She stopped in front of her and smiled, “What are you doing?” “Reading.” “Well, what are you reading?” “A book about culture.” Amy sat next to her as she talked. “But don’t you want to go play?” she asked. “No, I’d much rather read,” the little girl responded, flipping a page. Amy frowned, but was not deterred. “Then I’ll stay here while you read!” she smiled brightly. “Y-you don’t have to…” the girl whispered. “But why would I leave you here by yourself?” “You don’t know me…” “I didn’t know I need to know someone to talk to them.” The little girl smiled shyly. Gently closing her book and setting it down, she got up. “What are you doing?” Amy asked. “Going for a walk; it’s obvious you won’t leave me unless we do something,” she said, walking away from Amy. Amy scrambled to get up, screaming after her, “Wait for me!” Amy keeps walking, but much slower than before. She walks to the broken entrance, the once lavish crossbeam missing from view. The jewels that were stuck into the building are also gone, taken by robbers looking for a quick buck. She runs her hand up the beam, the smooth dirty marble cold and damp against her finger tips. As Amy stands there, a few small droplets hit her forehead and nose. She lazily looks up, and it begins to pour. Rain drops the size of bullets pelt her face and any other bare skin and soaks through her thin, oversized shirt quickly. She stares up at the sky, seemingly not caring about the sudden downpour. The rain streaks down her face like silent tears, or perhaps they are tears, blending perfectly with the rain. Soon Amy’s golden locks stick together and become sticky wet ropes, clinging to her face. Sighing, Amy walks into the ruins.

The high ceiling has several holes which allow the pouring rain to break through, splattering the floor with giant droplets. The once colorful walls are now dull, and most are gray. The gold lining has been scrapped off and any marble chipped away. The once large statue of the Buddha is missing, leaving his stand unattended; covered in a thick layer of dust and vines. The tall torches next to it are missing the golden bowl meant to hold their flames, but the poles remain, buried by flora. The golden bowl for food for the gods is also missing; probably stolen like the rest of the valuables. The only thing remaining is the jade green and ruby red floor with gold, jade, and ruby colored balls mixed in; it’s nearly impossible to steal those without tearing the whole thing down and then some. But the once beautiful sight is obscured by years of dirt, dust, and dried blood. Amy looked around at the sight she found herself in; the temple built for the buddha and the gods. A group of maidens huddled together, speaking in hushed tones to each other while occasionally glancing at Amy. She traced the mesmerizing swirling patterns on the floor, which were seemingly mixed by a stick. It seemed like hours before a monk gently tapped her on the shoulder. “Come with me, young one,” he said, holding out his hand for her to take. Amy stood and took his hand carefully as he lead her away to the depths of the temple. She strolls to a pile of rubble that looks like it hasn’t been touched in eons. She gingerly picks up a stone chunk, stretching out a old dusty cobweb in the process. “He was right; not even a spider would stay here after what happened,” Amy sighs, throwing the chunk aside. At the bottom of the pile, a slight gleam catches Amy’s eye. She clears away the stones and vines to find a monk’s staff; a five foot pole made of redwood and gold. At the top is a golden ring, and a golden spike pierces through the ring. Other smaller rings occupy the two halves of the loop, six on each side. She picks the oriental staff from the ground and looks at it in wonder. “How did you survive? Perhaps…” she trails off as she twirls it around. Only then did she notice the numerous cobwebs keeping the smaller rings from clinking together or even moving. “Tiny pests, clogging my music,” Amy remarks with disdain, ripping the cobwebs away. Once the webs are cleared, Amy swings the staff around, allowing it to make a sound similar to a wind chime during a storm. Her racing thoughts slow to a near stop to take in the familiar sound. Amy watched as the other children starred past the wall into the main hall. “What are you all doing?” she asked them. “Watching the monks with their shiny staffs!” “And their special robes!” “Okay...what are they doing?” Amy asked, stepping closer to the hoard. “We don’t know! No one will tell us!” a few hissed, by most shushed her. Walking carefully around the crowd, she seen several tall men with bald heads, orange and white robes, and tall staffs. Most of them were seated on the polished ground, chanting something under their breath with their hands clasped together with ceremonial beads. Four were standing, chanting louder than the rest. A small girl with black hair sat in the middle of the four, with her back facing the crowd. Her face was tilted downward, hands together and finger tips touching her forehead. Unlike the monks, she didn’t have black beads strung around her hand, but a red ribbon. A red silk ribbon tied her hands together. Another monk stood in front of her with a wide hat that resembled a woven basket. He otherwise wore the same things as the rest. A loud noise rang out through the hall, making the children scatter and scramble away. Amy dived to the now empty wall and peaked around the corner. It sounded again, but this time Amy knew were it came from; that monk had hit his staff hard against the ground. The monk called out something in a deep voice, making the others begin to repeat him. He hit the staff against the ground several more times, and Amy noticed the tingling undertone of the staff. Her spinning slows to a stop. The joyful, childlike gleam in her eye fades just as quickly as it came, though. Amy glances around, her sad expression returning. A side entrance catches her eye from across the hall, it’s pitch black emptiness causing her to walk swiftly to it. Peering down the hall, Amy’s expression turns blank. “It’s like a black hole…” she comments somberly. She props the staff up against the wall and turns back to the great hall. She glances at the rubble piles until she sees a piece of wood sticking straight up out of one. Walking to it, she yanks it out of the pile of rocks. “You won’t be needing this at all…” She saunters to the stump of a marble column and presses one end of the stick to it. She pulls down with all her strength. A yellow-orange glow erupts from it, lighting up the area around it. For a fraction of a second, a shrill scream sounds, and the building shakes. Strong winds blow from all sides, pushing Amy down to the ground. But it ends just as quickly as it started, and the world is still again. Pushing herself off the ground onto wobbly legs, Amy stumbles her way to the hall.

She gingerly picks her staff up from the ground and thrusts the torch into the darkness. Webs are built up in the corners, with several bug carcasses frozen in time and covered in dust. Dust hangs in the air, and it smells musty. Parts of the stone ceiling and wall have fallen out but are nowhere in sight, like a puzzle missing it’s pieces. Echoes of water hitting water sounds from somewhere deep down the hall. She carefully begins the descent into the depths. The flame tries to grasp the cobwebs and reaches for the walls, but Amy holds it firmly in front of her. The only sound in the small space is the crackling of flames, the dripping water, the ringing of the staff, and Amy’s own breathing.

The darkness looms over the small girl as she stood at the end of the hall. She shivered, her black hair swinging noticeably. “Hey!” Amy screamed from behind her. The girl screeched and turned to her, her breath heavy. “A-amy? P-please, don’t do that!” she said. “Whatcha doing?” Amy cocked her head to the side. “I-I...have to use the bathroom…” the girl whispered. “Ooohhh...and the hallway is dark…” she said, peering down the hallway. “I can escort you there, Aya!” Amy held her arm out to her. Aya looked from Amy’s arm to Amy herself. She gently took her arm and clung to her. Amy’s face burned bright, but she smiled nonetheless. Hot air whips around Amy at seemingly random intervals, sweeping her hair and clothes back. The flames attempt to lick her face with each strong puff of air. Her clothes stick to her as she sweats, as does any dust or dirt that falls. After walking for a while, Amy comes out to another hallway. The staff rings with each step, and the crackling of flame fills the empty space Amy couldn’t hope to fill herself. She walks to the first dusty door and gently pushes it open. The door creaks heavily. Amy gently pushes the torch into the room, burning cobwebs in the way with a sizzle. Along the walls were beds with blankets of dust. “Hmm…” Amy hums, bringing the torch to the floor. Wooden toys are scattered among the floor, the paint wore off them and dirt ingrained in the cracks. Under them are slightly less dusty; but only slightly. Amy tiptoes her way to a bed in the corner; the only bed that has red blankets. She props the staff against the wall and makes her way to the bed. She smiles and runs her hand across the dust layer, digging up years upon years of crusty air. With a few swift motions, part of the vibrant vermillion hue shines through. “What happened to the girls bed?” “Why is it suddenly red?” “Is she using dark magic?” The whispers made by the priestesses echoed through the hallways. Amy sat just out of sight in the children's room, listening intently. “Should we switch whose going?” the youngest priestess asked, looking to the head monk and priestess. “Perhaps we should…?” The priestess murmured, looking down with a frown decorating her face. “No doubt; this is the work of the gods. We must change everything,” he replied firmly. The small group erupted with whispers and hushed tones. “Quiet now, quiet! It’s settled; she will our new sacrifice.” Amy’s eyes widen and water. “No...no!” she cried, bringing her hands to her face. Salty tears poured down her cheeks like waterfalls. She muffled her sobs with her hands. The group dispersed, but Amy stayed, sobbing quietly to herself. “I-I have to f-f-find a w-a-ay t-t-too...” she sobbed, getting to her feet. Amy sighs, her weary eyes scanning the bed. She stands, dust sticking to her shorts and damp shirt. She walks swiftly to the door and grabs the staff she left there. Her eyes meet a torch-holder on the wall across from the door. She swings her torch to the unlit burnt stick, lighting it. The hall illuminates, casting long shadows on the bland walls. Amy wanders the hall lazily. The next door she comes across has intricate carving in the stone. It’s slightly ajar. A strong smell is leaking through the door; similar to death. Her eyes connect with the torch holder next to the door; empty and covered with crusty cobwebs. She slides her torch in the holder. “Fits like a glove,” she remarks. Amy stares at it, watching the flames lick the ceiling greedily. She shakes her head and pushes the door open fully. Bookcases line the walls and a cot is pushed in the corner of the room like it’s a second thought. The upper shelves are sparse in terms of books, but holds trinkets, jars of things in a strange discolored liquid, and other random valuables that aren’t really valuable. Amy scowls as she walks in, the air musty like the rain had made its way in the room itself. She glances at the floor by one of the shelves. One of the jars have busted, and the liquid has already run down the book shelf, effectively ruining the books it touched. There is a pool shaped blob on the floor where the liquid had settled. “What are you doing in here?!” The monk screamed. Amy whipped her head to him, half terrified half angry. “Is...is THIS what you plan to do to her?! Turn her into...into...into THIS?!” she screamed back, tears pricking into her eyes. “How did you get in here?! Get out!” he growled, grabbing her arm. He pulled her away from the bookshelf, making her drop the book she was holding. “No! No no no no! I won’t let you do this!! You WILL NOT do this!!” Amy screamed, salty tears blurring her vision and running down her cheeks. The monk picked her up by the waist. She kicked, swatted, and flailed, all the while with her eyes screwed shut. Her hand connected with something smooth and cool, and with enough force to push it. Almost immediately the horrendous sound of glass shattering filled their ears. The monk froze. Amy froze, and slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she seen was one of the many jars on the shelf, broken, on the ground; she had pushed it off in her frenzy. She turned her head upward to look at the monk. His face read pure rage. With a animalistic growl, he threw her into the ground. Her head connected with the ground with a harsh thud. Amy growls, glaring at the bookcases. She throws her staff to the ground and reaches for the heavy object. She grips the edge and pulls. In seconds it tumbles to the ground like a tower made of bricks, but no mortar. The glass jars shatter on the ground and part of the bookcase itself seemingly crumbles, from what looks like dry rot. She tears down every bookcase in her brief, blind rage. After a few minutes, she calms down. She pants heavily while walking to her staff. Amy picks it up, and walks to the doorway. With a quick, almost mournful glance at the room, she saunters off down the hall.

Amy stops, just on the edges of the fires light. On the edge of her vision, she can see a door. She takes a few deep breaths and feels her way there. The door is plain, almost blending perfectly into the wall. There isn’t a handle, either. The only way to tell it’s even there is there’s a ever so slight sparkle in the space between the door and the wall; almost like there’s a light on the inside. Amy firmly plants her hand in the middle of the door. She gently leans in, her forehead connecting with sandy texture of the door. She chants something under her breath. A loud, odd click sounds from the door. Amy pushes the door open. The first thing that hits her is the heavy smell of sulfur and rotting flesh. She gags and covers her mouth, coughing like she’s hacking up her lungs. The faint, white outline of a pentagram stained with a unusually large amount of blood; certainly not enough for one person. She feels tears prick into her eyes heavily at the thought of her friend having come here, once upon a time. “NNNOOOO!!! NO, NO WAIT!!! PLEASE!! PLEASE!!” Amy cried heavily, crawling after the woman dragging her friend away. “W-wait! I-I change my m-mind! I don’t wanna go anymore!” Aya cried, tearing at the arms of the burly woman holding her. “Shut it!” The woman barked, re-adjusting Aya in her grasp. “I-I thought you s-said I c-c-could decide w-whether I wanted to d-do this or n-not!” Aya squeaked. “I did. Until just now,” the woman growled cruelly. Amy stretched her hand out as far as she could, and Aya did the same. Their hands catch and they latch on as hard as they could. The woman snarled and yanked Aya to her, dragging Amy closer to her with a yelp. The woman smirked, a sadistic glint in her eye, and whistled. Amy looked up at her. She then flew backwards, a meaty thud sounding through the hall. Aya screamed, tears now pouring down her cheeks. She stared at Amy, blood running from the fresh wound in her forehead. Amy sniffles. Her hand slowly comes to her face to feel the wet streaks. She braces herself before walking into the dark room. The walls and floor are a much darker color than the hall or any other room; more of the color of lava rock. In the middle of the floor is the blood stained pentagram. There are four long, lamp like torches like the ones in the temple over head, but almost pitch black. The walls are carved to match the image of the gods with no free space at all. Amy’s hand gingerly connects with the wall as she walks the outside of the room. The feeling of carved faces, ridges that make clothes, and smooth parts that form landscapes bring a very, very limited comfort to her. She gets to the wall opposite the door, and brings her hand to her side. She stares up at the figure. Though none of the carvings have color, she knows this one like the back of her hand. The female figure is in the middle, above the others with the sun behind her. Her face the epitome of beauty, and her clothes fitted to her slender form. Amy sighs, “I suppose I was prettier back then…” To Amy, it feels like staring into a mirror and seeing who you were, not who you are. She glances at the other figures; men, women, and animal alike were gods, like Amy. Her eyes connect with the ancient writing that spells out her name; her real name. “Amaterasu… a name I haven’t been called for some time…”

Amaterasu’s melancholy gaze is catch on the other gods she knew; she was their friend, their boss, and in some cases their lover and enemy. “I said we’d live forever. I said we’d never grow old. I’m sorry; I lied to you all,” she moved to the man on her left and touched his face as she spoke. She shakes her head. Moving around the stained floor, she makes her way out of the room. The door all but slams behind her. What does it mean to be immortal? Her slow footsteps, the ringing of the staff, and the faint crackling of the torches don’t seem comforting anymore. I have no one. They seem to haunt her. Amaterasu stops at the windy hall, her eyes glossed over. With a sigh and the snap of her fingers, she marches down the hall.

With every step her appearance changes. Her white, loose shirt and shorts blend together and grows longer so it becomes a kimono with a long train; it shimmers the colors of the sunrise and sunset. The sleeves grow and cloak her arms so they’re almost invisible. Her hair darkens from blonde to a blue-black color. Her face clears of any blemishes or marks. Even her eyes change; her bright yellow eyes that shined bright than the sun are now dull, having lost their spark. When she emerges from the hallway, she is no longer Amy; she is Amaterasu. Vermillion, violet, peach, and pink paint the sky outside. It’s sunset. She slows her pace as she leaves. Don’t worry, I will join you all soon. The light paints her face as she steps out of the temple. She walks through the first arch, and stops at the collapsed one. She looks at the sun. “You were right, weren’t you brother? Eventually, humans wouldn’t need us. Like now; they aren’t children anymore...I guess I’ll see you...whenever.” She heaves a heavy sigh and closes her eyes. She feels the wind pick up and she breathes in the scent of after-rain. Her feet and the kimono train fades into the wind slowly like dust mixed crudely with glitter. It continues up her body until she’s gone. The staff falls to the dirt and stone ground, clattering as it hits stone.