#birds of a feather | ic
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kemuele · 1 year ago
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Forests will forever enrapture the archangel's curiosity. The way they can tower over people, blanket them in their canopies and leaves, rekindles a fondness in his heart from long ago. While his heart will continue to guard and protect the northwest, there is something to be had for the eastern states' own.
His visit isn't for the trees this time. Kemuel slips his hands in his pockets, shaking his head as he takes in the southern sun basking the town in its heat. Normally he'd enjoy bathing in the light, but Kentucky's humidity leaves him less than pleased. Eyes shift from the mirage forming down the street to the strangers passing by. All seems well except--
"Excuse me," he says, clearing his throat to a young woman, dark hair. "it is too hot to be wearing a jacket, is it not?" As if in demonstration, he nods to his own since folded over his forearm. Peculiar; are you trying to fit in or run away? Thoughts are kept to himself, but Kemuel's polite mannerisms keep him in place for an answer. She's not like the others, so why is she here?
@ofgilmore
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venomoftheshank · 2 months ago
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"You insolent swine... what was that for?! Why did you throw a filthy orange at me?!! What have I ever done to you to deserve being treated so lowly..."
-@salvation-brought [ILLUMINA]
"everything if you count living."
He chuckles, feathers fluffing. He may not be Darkheart but Venomshank had a mischievous side as well.
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its-stimsca · 4 months ago
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Stimboard of Orpheus from Hadestown BECAUSE I GOT CAST AS HIM IN MY LOCAL PRODUCTION OF THE SHOW AAAAA
🥀 🎵 🥀 / 🎵 🌹 🎵 / 🥀 🎵 🥀
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batcrested · 3 months ago
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"What's the matter, big bird? Your age finally catching up?" The jib is light, harmless but there's no missing the slight smile Red Robin tosses over his shoulder at his elder brother. With a well placed kick to the gut, he sends the criminal flying against the dumpster and the pistol skittering across the pavement. "I got mine, how about you?"
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@bcywonder // starter call!
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kemuele · 1 year ago
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"Is she? Then what are you?" He asks, already knowing the answer. But at the very least, with Fergus satiating his appetite, the journey back to where he came from would be easy. Kemuel slowly nods at his proposed efforts for retracing steps. Surely if the man has arrived at the diner of his own volition, he'd be able to go back to the garden he woke up in?
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Or, would retracing those steps require more stimuli and effort than his disoriented self provided? Whatever the case, Kemuel has an uneasy feeling over Fergus's predicament.
"With all of these questions, I never did introduce myself. What is your name? Mine is Kemuel." He even gestures to the plastic nametag on his shirt, bearing his name in capital letters only fitting for a label-maker.
“ye.” a nod confirmed that was as much as fergus’ ability to track his own location would go. he had no mental map of the place he was at, or the area - he didn’t even understand which country he was at currently. or how he got there, all he did know right now was that food was great. he dug in like there was no tomorrow & who knew - maybe there wouldn’t be for him. it wouldn’t be a great loss, so he saw no issue indulging today & using this stranger’s friendliness to his own advantage. 
“me mother’s a witch, but me - i’m no such thing.” a shrug. he didn’t have the ability to jump anywhere. he doubted she came home to do it either, so .. yes, unwillingly fit best. “i can try.. find my way back.” he’d not properly paid attention, but maybe he could do it. 
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kemuele · 1 year ago
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you see, i’ve got systems to manage the hurt i could cause… ❜
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Dialogue Prompts- [Accepting]
❛ you see, i’ve got systems to manage the hurt i could cause… ❜
Kemuel eyes Dean with a peculiar expression. Shoulders roll back and he glances from man to drink, then back once more as he takes a sip of coffee. "What kind of systems are you speaking of? Many boast of their protection and security measures, yet half have the fortitude to follow through with them."
He rests his cup on the table as he takes note of the patio's breezy state: loose leaves twirl and skitter along cobblestone while napkins lap at the saucers and bowls pinning them in place. The archangel's eyes return to Dean yet again, though in his brown gaze there's an air of caution. "How long has this been going on? If, of course, you do not mind me asking." Maybe he can help, should Dean wish or want it.
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missathlete31 · 2 years ago
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Birds of a Feather- A Bradshaw Sibling Story
Chapter 1- Welcome to the World Baby Girl
Carole, still reeling from the loss of Goose, isn't sure how to feel when she learns she is pregnant. Thankfully she has the support of two Navy pilots to help her welcome her newest addition to the world and a certain blue eyed Lieutenant ends up being a surprising rock at her side.
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Notes: Once I get through the background information, this story will be told in a more story-like format (with conversations and better descriptions etc). Right now I just want to get you all to the point that movie begins with all the history (and drama) I've given these characters.
Welcome to the World Baby Girl
When Carole Bradshaw finally starts recognizing the signs of pregnancy, seven weeks after burying her husband, her first instinct is to just cry. She had been doing that a lot lately, barely able to make it to her son Bradley’s bedtime before she sobs deep and hard into Goose’s pillow. Now though, as she recognizes the churn of her upset stomach as not the flu but morning sickness, she has to fight the urge to not collapse to the kitchen floor right then and there. Bradley, oblivious to his mother’s struggles in the way only a small child can be, plays with his cereal, spooning the cheerios happily as he manages to forget once more what Carole herself can never; that Goose is never coming home again.
Carole has never thought of herself as a particularly strong woman but she concedes that perhaps she is tougher than she thinks. She keeps herself together, encourages her four year old son to eat instead of play with his food and manages to wait until a reasonable hour in the late morning to phone her sister and ask her to babysit for the day. Her sister Judy agrees immediately; all of her family in the walking on eggshells stage of caution around her that Carole is pretty confident she could ask them to help her commit a robbery and they would be there in masks just to never have to tell her no. She appreciates it, when she doesn’t find it maddening, but on a day like today she is particularly grateful.
After Bradley is dropped at his Aunt’s, Carole drives two towns over to pick up pregnancy tests. It’s not that she is ashamed, not at all, but their town in Western Pennsylvania is small and gossip travels fast. Carole might be stronger than she thinks but she knows she’s not strong enough for the rumors to start without knowing if she’s carrying or not. Besides, the possibility of carrying her late husband’s child could be a precious gift, something she won’t risk tarnishing by letting it out before she is certain.
She scours the shelves of the small pharmacy she stops at, pretends that she is there for the gummy bears she grabs for Bradley and the lotion she picks up for herself. Carole heads to the women’s aisle and finds the ClearBlue boxes, remembering when she heard about at-home pregnancy tests a few years ago and how she found the concept completely mind-blowing. Now she is thankful as she grabs three boxes and heads to checkout, gratified that the woman at the cash register clocks her wedding ring and smiles a good luck as she grabs her bags to leave.
She heads home and follows the directions to the letter, though the young blonde has never been known as a rule follower before. Energetic, fun, life of the party, if Carole took a moment to really think about it, she would realize that she not only lost her husband but a part of herself as well that day; the part that smiled and danced, that hooted in excitement regardless of her audience, the part that lived for joy as easy as one lives for breath; but that was all gone now, even more so when she noticed all three tests coming up with the same result.
She was pregnant.
Tears come, as she knew they would, and Carole isn’t sure if she should be horrified that she still isn’t sure if this is what she wants. One more piece of Nicholas Bradshaw should be the greatest gift in the world, but a baby growing up without a father also seems the cruelest. Is it fair for Carole to bring a baby into this life when she herself is already so close to floundering? Is it blasphemy to even think of not having this baby? Carole knows it’s up to her, that no one else in this world can make this decision for her, that no one can judge her for what she decides do as well. She clutches Goose’s wedding that she has moved to wear on a chain around her neck and places her other hand on her abdomen. It’s too early for kicks or to feel any movement, but Carole does experience a sort of calm tranquility as she stands in her bathroom in the silence, her hands connecting her past with her future. Goose always wanted a big family, had cried like a baby when they first learned they were expecting Bradley. He would want this child more than life itself, would have given his life willingly if he knew it would give her this blessing. Carole pictures a little baby, with Goose’s nose and smile, her husband’s amber eyes staring back at her as she rocks the newborn in her arms. It will never bring Nick back, will never lessen the pain of his loss, but maybe, just maybe, it can create some love with it too.
Everything moves quickly from there.
Carole tells her family first and more tears come. It’s different this time though, she can already tell, the grief still pressing but also lifting just that tiniest bit, her mother’s tight squeezes as they cry together healing in a way she wasn’t expecting. For a moment she feels traitorous, as though she is ignoring Nick’s death with the preoccupation of the growing baby in her body, but soon she realizes that perhaps this was Nick’s gift for her all along, something to help her through.
She tells Goose’s parents next and if she had any thoughts of not going through with the pregnancy, they die the minute Henry and Margaret fall upon their living room floor and hold each other, thanking her for telling them and begging Carole to let them help in any way they can. They spend the rest of her trip to Tennessee alternating between taking Bradley around their farm and making sure Carole doesn’t lift a finger, each sparing glances to her still flat belly when they think she’s not looking. It’s overwhelming at times but also weirdly comforting, Carole feeling closer to her in-laws than she ever felt before. She mentions her comfort of this type of living when the topic of Carole putting up her home in Pennsylvania for sale. The blonde isn’t surprised when the elder Bradshaws immediately offer her space on their land to live with Bradley and the new baby. It’s a kind offer, more generous than she could really say, but she declines.
She knows where she needs to make her new home.
Her family didn’t understand when she told them she plans to buy a house right outside of North Island and from the way Margaret’s face pales and Henry grows silent, it seems the Bradshaws don’t understand either. Carole expects this, she appreciates why this would seem so strange to everyone else, but the young mother can’t imagine bringing another child into this world and being so far away from her husband’s final resting place. Nick is in North Island, in a military cemetery not far from the waters he died in, from the air he flown in; Carole owes it to her children and her husband to not keep them any further apart than fate has already made them.
The move cross-country might break her, but it will be her cross to bear.
The bungalow she buys is small but homey, and perfect for the neighborhood they choose. It has the cutest garden, that Carole immediately starts to plant the most vibrant flowers she can, and a porch swing that she has a kind neighbor check its integrity of before it becomes her and Bradley’s favorite spot to watch the sunsets. As for the house itself, it has three bedrooms, one for each of the now remaining (and soon to be arriving) Bradshaws and is close enough to the beach that she and Bradley can walk every day across the sand. Her son loves it. His hair, which slowly starts to darken despite being consistently in the California sun, is always in a perpetual state of curly unrest from the sea breeze, his body tracking sand everywhere in their home. Carole only laughs, even when her stomach starts to swell and it gets harder to clean up all the time. Bradley has taken to the idea of a sibling remarkably well, all things considering, though he is sure in the way only a four year old can be when he pats at her stomach and asks how his little brother is. Carole decided not to find out the sex, not ready to see if she is getting a Nick or a Nicole, the names already decided as they feel only right.
During this time she wonders if she should tell Maverick. He writes her when he can, sending the letters to the family’s old address that her sister is kind enough to forward, but Carole makes sure to not tell him anything about what she is really going through, bringing a baby into this world alone. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Pete or that she doesn’t want him to know per say, she just doesn’t want to make him think he needs to take care of her. He’s young, so young, and though he feels responsible for what happened to Goose that day, Carole wasn’t lying when she told the pilot she didn’t blame him. She doesn’t, and she never will. She knew just as much as Goose did about the risks he took each day. Pointing fingers or tossing blame didn’t bring the man back; it just pushed those who remained away.
The problem with Pete Mitchell was that the man was a lot like a puppy who enjoyed punishing himself. She saw it when they first met and the kid was weighed down with the guilt of his father’s service records, and she saw it after Goose was declared deceased and Pete expected her to smack him instead of embrace him in a hug. Carole knew that if she told Maverick about the baby Pete would think it was his duty to put everything on hold and be at her side and she couldn’t ask him to do that. It wasn’t his responsibility, best friend or not. He deserved to live his life; he deserved to move on.
But sometimes life doesn’t let you make those decisions.
In her seventh month, Carole gets a knock on the door and opens to reveal one Iceman Kazansky in his service khaki’s. The man’s blue eyes immediately stalked down to her growing belly and his lips purse before he snaps himself out of his thoughts and meet her gaze. It seems he had come to apologize for his own actions that day, explaining that if he had moved out of the way quicker than Mav wouldn’t have been caught in his jetwash, ultimately leading to the spiral that forced both Pete and Nick to eject. Carole listens silently, allowing the man to get all his feelings out before she tells him the same thing she told Mav: she doesn’t blame him.
For all the coldness of his reputation, Ice gives a sharp nod before allowing just the barest of tears to fall, though he wipes the evidence away quickly. He stands then, expecting to be asked to leave now that he has said his peace but Carole just offers him to stay for dinner. The man accepts before she even finishes her statement. She expects some awkwardness but there is none to be found, Tom is nothing but a gentleman and the perfect guest, even taking the time to play with Bradley as the child shows the pilot all his favorite toy planes.
When dinner is over and Tom finishes washing and drying the dishes he insists on doing, he finally brings up Pete’s status. Carole had listened to the tall blonde pilot talk vaguely about the Leyton mission during their meal, classified though, so beyond saying it got a little close and Maverick had to come to his aid, Kazansky had stayed mum on the true details. Much different than Maverick, who discussed the mission at length in one of his prior letters, not adhering to secrets any better now than he ever did before, much to Carole’s amusement.
Tom takes the seat across from her at the now cleared table, fingers steeple in front of his lips. He is a patient man, she gages that just from this one night of interactions and Carole can tell that he chooses his words carefully. Finally, when he is ready, Tom tells her the truth, that despite getting over his trepidations in the sky, Pete was struggling again, finding himself in the rambunctious death-be-damned stage of mortality that leads to reckless actions and tragic conclusions. Tom was worried before but he is anxious now, admitting to Carole that he came to the house not only to apologize for his actions on the day that Goose died but also to ask the blonde for her help in reign Maverick in, afraid that no one else could be up for the task. Carole knows she has the right to say no, that no one could blame her if she was to say she has too much on her plate as it is to try and save a renegade 25 year old pilot with enough issues that he could fill the sky he flies in, but she also knows she loves Pete, he’s the little brother she always wanted, and she won’t let the universe take him away too. She tells Tom to give her his number.
A week and one overly emotional reunion later, Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell becomes a permanent fixture back in their lives. He’s stationed at Top Gun again so it’s easy for him to be at their house for dinner every night, pulling a reluctant Iceman with him; an ecstatic Bradley more than happy to welcome them both with open arms. Carole feels as though maybe she was wrong not to tell the younger man about the pregnancy right away as he takes one look at the not yet built nursery furniture and he and Ice roll up their sleeves; building everything themselves in record time and then hanging model planes in Bradley’s room as a nice surprise for the future big brother. They become a family, the five and a half of them; dysfunctional in their abnormally but aren’t those always the best?
As her third trimester progresses either Pete or Tom is there for every one of her doctor’s appointments, sometimes even both go, earning her skeptical looks from some of the other patients and nurses that don’t know her whole story. She doesn’t care; Carole has never been one to desire people’s approvals, and she welcomes the Naval Aviators’ dual support as the realness of becoming a single mother to two children gets closer and closer.
But then again life deals her a harsh hand.
Pete is fired from his position with Ice teaching at Top Gun. If it didn’t hurt so much, Carole wouldn’t have been surprised; Pete is not someone that should be teaching anyone about rules or regulations, but it still wounds the pregnant blonde when he is re-deployed to a carrier in the Pacific. She wants to be angry, at him, at the Navy, at the world, but it won’t help the situation and she knows that. She’s two weeks from her due date; she has to accept that Pete won’t be at her side.
Tom will be though. Tom who has taken to her family as easy as Pete did all those years ago. Tom, who buys her baby clothes and toys, never forgetting to get Bradley something too so the kid never feels left out. Tom who makes her dinner when she can’t seem to stand for too long, cleans her house when she feels the anxiety of nesting deep in her chest, and entertains her crying tantrums about how she misses Nick and wishes he were there.
Tom is a god sent.
Carole wondered at first why he was so willing. Guilt is powerful, but the man is giving up his whole life for her little family, without getting anything in return. Or so she thought. She comes to learn that Tom has no family of his own, his parents both passed, his mother just less than a year ago, and that besides Slider, who has also become a permanent fixture in her life now when he’s in town, Ice has no one. Wounded hearts tend to find each other and Carole is happy to open her home to one more lost soul, if only to heal them all.
Her water breaks on the beach of all places, as she stops to pick up a seashell and Bradley laughs that mommy peed her pants. It’s only the two of them of course; Ice teaching for the day, so Carole walks herself and Bradley back to their little house and manages to call 911 and the air base Ice is stationed. A neighbor she has gotten close to takes Bradley to play with their own children and Carole is loaded into the ambulance alone. She tries to hold in the emotions when the nice paramedic holds her hand through the contractions, tries to pretend it’s Nick, or even Pete or Tom and not this virtual stranger, but the sobs roll easily, the heighten hormones leaving her gasping in their intensity.
She is brought to a room and encouraged to relax, treated like a first time mom though she’s been through this before. Carole figures in a way this is like a first; Nick was at her side all through Bradley’s labor and delivery, cracking dumb jokes to make her laugh and promising her that she could kill him later for the pain his actions put her through. She remembered threatening a lot of bodily harm, even a threat to cut off a body part but the minute Bradley was placed in her arms she only felt love. Pure, unadulterated love in its strongest form. Would it be the same this time? Would she be moved to bliss like she was the first time she gave birth? Or would this poor little baby be placed in a crying mother’s arms, a mother filled with grief and pain? Was it fair of her to do this?
Carole doesn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts because Tom arrives then, flustered and out of breath like the normally composed man never seems to be. He zeroes in on Carole, seems to recognize her barest attempt at keeping herself together, and just goes right to her side. His hand grabs hers and squeezes, as though he hopes to transfer all the strength he holds in his muscles to her, as though he is willing to transfer his very life himself if only to help her through this. Carole manages a smile, albeit a small one since a contraction decides this is the best moment to strike, as she looks to the blond pilot next to her and thanks him for being here at her side. Tom only says there is nowhere else he’s rather be.
Tom is the rock at her side through it all. He calls her neighbors to check on Bradley and informs not only her own parents but Nick’s as well about how the labor is going. They all try to catch the next available flights but they won’t make it in time, something that Ice has the good graces to not correct her on when Carole foolishly hopes her mother will be in California in time for the baby’s arrival. Tom even manages to get a message out to Mav, using some favors he stockpiled to have the call made through all the way in the middle of the ocean. There’s nothing Pete can do from the ship but it still brings a little relief to Carole’s jumble of emotions that at least the dark haired pilot knows what’s going on.
As the hours progress, Carole expects Tom to leave but he never does. He takes a few breaks to relieve himself or take a second to sit but otherwise he’s with her through it all, though he makes sure that Carole knows if she wants that to change, if his presence isn’t welcome, he will leave at her slightest hint. It warms the blonde woman’s heart in a way she can’t imagine feeling, this man devoting so much to her and she rewards him by just holding his hand tighter. Carole asks Tom to tell her stories, anything to get her mind off the pain and the wait and Tom, though preferring silence and listening, spends hours telling stories about his beloved mother Emily. He admits that Carole reminds him of her, perhaps being why he clung so much to her and her little family, and how the pilot will never forgive himself for not being at his mother’s side in the end. When she sees tears in the man’s eyes, Carole doesn’t call attention to it, instead allowing Ice to pretend he is going for another coffee, instead of getting some air to get out of his own memories.
She’s in labor for 18 hours, pushing for two when the doctors start to contemplate a c-section. It’s the last thing Carole wants, and she tries to tell everyone in the room her opinions on the matter, but no one seems to be listening. Finally it takes her trying to physically get herself out of the bed for the doctor to allow a half hour more of pushing before they make the call. Determined now, Carole pushes with renewed vigor, burning up a sweat as she clenches and tightens her muscles trying to get this baby out.
When finally the pushing starts to work and the doctor lets her know that the time has come and the head of her baby is visible, Carole doubles down and uses every ounce of energy she has left to get this baby out. The pain is unimaginable, worse than she remembers with Bradley, though she’s not sure if it’s also from the ache of her broken heart that is making everything throb harder. She screams as loud as she can each time, so loud that she can’t even hear the doctor’s words from below her, but Carole can make out Tom’s voice over the white noise of it all. His tone is calm, almost commanding, though his icy blue eyes look widened and wild as he watches the miracle of childbirth right before his eyes.
Tom continues a mantra of how strong Carole is and how she’s almost done, how the baby is almost here when the call for one last big push is announced to the room. Carole yells as roughly as her body can managed, squeezes Tom’s hand with a pressure that feels like it could crack bone, and finally pushes with all her might when suddenly all the pressure that has been bearing down on her is relieved with a sudden clarity. The cries of a newborn join Carole’s own as the woman can’t seem to figure out if she’s happy or sad as tears run down her cheeks. Her limbs are so exhausted yet the blonde still manages to start flailing as she’s unsure if she’s grabbing for her baby or running away from it. She doesn’t move from the bed though, she physically can’t, and when the tiny human is placed on her chest, covered in blood but so very alive, Carole sobs as she realizes she has a daughter. Welcome to the world baby girl, is all she can think as she filled with the same love she had with Bradley and the same protectiveness. She is willing to do anything for this baby in her arms, this beautiful gift from Nick that she has been blessed to receive. She never wants to let her go.
Unfortunately, chest to chest only lasts a few minutes before the baby is taken away from its mother to be checked over. Carole moans when the little weight is removed from her hold and she looks up to see Ice’s eyes follow her daughter’s movements with the same worry Carole herself is experiencing. She urges Tom to follow the baby, and the man nods, stepping across the room to watch the clean up and weighing of the newest addition to the world. He is silent, eyes icy, posture straight and imposing, and Carole knows that her daughter will have a protector in Lieutenant Kazansky until the end of time. It’s not the same as a father, nothing will ever be, but it still warms her heart.
Carole doesn’t realize she’s crying again until Ice comes back over, wiping her checks easily and then grabbing a new towel to dry the sweat off her brow. He has been unfazed by everything she has thrown at him this day. Her tears, her screams, and her cries not scaring him but instead making him compliment her strength and resilience. Even now he congratulates her on her good job, on what she has managed to do, but Carole finds it hard to listen. A part of her wants to shove his hands off because he’s not the man that should be at her side, but another relishes in the touch, in the companionship, in not being alone.
She cries again as the overwhelming need to hold her daughter returns. She needs to hold her; she needs to see something of her husband before she rips out her own hair. The nurse brings a tiny bundle back, her daughter clean now and much quieter. She places the baby right on Carole’s chest once more and smiles, congratulating both Carole and Tom and informing them the baby is perfectly healthy. Carole sucks in a sob, taking in the widened eyes and soft lips of this beautiful baby girl in front of her. She can’t stop staring, can’t stop looking for the similarities between this baby and Nick, and can’t stop the tears at the similar nose as though it is the greatest gift she could ever receive. After what must be a few minutes but only feels like seconds, a new nurse informs Carole that she needs to be cleaned up before she is brought to a room, asking if Dad wants to hold the baby while they work on getting mommy settled. Carole immediately breaks down into harder sobs, to the point her baby is removed in fear she could hurt her with the way Carole’s full stomach constricts with her emotions. The nurse looks confusingly over at Ice and sees that the man has blanched and paled, looking guilt as though it is his fault that such assumptions of the baby’s paternity was made.
Before anyone else can react, Carole’s mother enters the room in scrubs, having blown more money than she ever spent in her life to get to her daughter as quickly as possible. Carole cries anew at the sight of her mother, and Tom uses the distraction to slip out of the room, sure that he is not needed anymore. He doesn’t leave the hospital though, staying in the waiting room until Ann Kramer (Carole’s mother) comes outside and inform Ice that Carole and the baby are both fine and resting; mommy in her room and baby in the nursery. Ann gives Tom the tightest hug her small frame can manage and thanks him profusely for everything, saying how Carole admitted tearfully that she would have been lost without him.
Tom brushes off the praise easily enough, just happy that all the Bradshaws are doing well. He offers to relieve Bradley from the neighbors, knowing the little boy must be worried about where everyone went. Ann looks thankful and then says she should get back, no doubt wanting to help her daughter through the emotional gauntlet her hormones are probably raging within her. She heads back to Carole’s room and Tom moves towards the elevators before he decides to take a pit stop before he heads to the Bradshaw home.
He finds the nursery easily, standing by the glass window at the few babies housed inside. Tom spots the Bradshaw baby easily, her face already memorized to him; not needing the card to tell him which one she is. There was a tiny tuff of brown hair when the little girl was born, but it is covered now in her newborn cap, her body wrapped up just as snuggly in the hospital issued blanket. Her eyes are closed and her little face peaceful, creating an image of angelic serenity in a sea of hospital craziness. Tom knows he might never see another image so beautiful in his life, perhaps only if God grants him the miracle of having his own kid, but even then he’s not sure. He is so in awe of this child in front of him, so in awe of the strength of her mother, of how life can be so cruel and yet so kind to the same people. Tom finds that he loves the little baby slumbering in the nursery with every part of his heart, as though she was her own. He will protect her for life, feels he has to, and finally Ice begins to understand what Pete meant when he explained his own feelings of love and protectiveness with Bradley. Both Bradley and his new little sister have experienced the suffocating loss of a parent at the youngest of ages, it is the rest of the world’s duty to not let them drown from this loss, and Tom intends to exert this job until the end of his days.
Then his eyes catch the name card.
He knew Carole wanted to name the baby Nick for a boy and Nicole for a girl after their father, and there on the card is the name Nicole.
But there’s another name in front of it.
It seems his stories about his mother made some kind of impact because the name Emily Nicole Bradshaw is written in a lovely print right there on the basinet in the nursery. The sight of it takes Tom’s breath away. The letters in Emily are purple and swirling in a whimsical way that reminds Tom of a princess in the fairy tales his mother always loved to read to him. His heart pings with the ache of remembering his mother, and of the gratitude towards Carole for giving him this tiny gift. She had already mentioned him being godfather, a title he was beyond honored to be asked for despite the fact he didn’t think he was worth of, but this, this little name for this little girl, was the most amazing present Tom could have ever received in his life. He doesn’t think he can ever thank Carole enough.
Knowing the best way to start is to make sure her son is just as safe and taken care of as the rest of the family, the blond pilot decides to take his leave. Tom takes one more glance at the sleeping beauty resting peaceful within the basket before he heads for the exit of the hospital, his own tears falling silently upon his stoic face.
He looks up naturally to the sky once he’s outside, sees the warm halo of the sunshine above and hopes that Nick Bradshaw is up there, looking down on his family. “I promise I’ll always protect her” Tom says aloud, not carrying if anyone else hears as long as the WSO can. “I promise I’ll always protect all of them” he amends and then, as though someone is actually listening or perhaps his exhaustion decides to play tricks, the sun seems to get brighter. Taking it as a sign, Ice smiles and continues to his car, hopeful that Goose approves of his new vows.
Notes: So now we see the start of Emily and her godfather Ice. I love writing a soft Tom and IcePops is going to be a growing theme in this story. Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!
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ask-twisted-samurai · 23 days ago
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There he was, in the kingdom of Khura'in. The flight there had been plenty stressful, and Simon had found himself grateful for his experience in the fields of lack of sleep, because he hadn't managed to doze off for a single second yet still had a job to do - a bloody important one, at that.
Only close friends and the Chief Prosecutor had been notified of his travel, although he hadn't gone into depth as to what he intended to do, in fear that the simple knowledge of such thing would drag them under into a most cruel fate. Alone, the cold breeze of the mountains felt near freezing, but paled in comparison to the nights he'd spent in a dark jail cell, wondering if he would even be able to wake up tomorrow or if the countdown would come to an abrupt end then and there, bringing death to claim him before journey's end.
However, he took note how the image of the looming castle from afar felt more like a cage, and wondered if the people around town carried the same sentiment as he once did. They may walk wherever they please, chat to their heart's content, and give beautiful displays of vibrant colors and lively celebrations, but was it truly freedom? Who's to say they don't feel just as trapped, with only a spark of hope to keep them just warm enough not to drop dead?
What of the people in the castle itself? The thought of those tall, elegant walls and pillars being mere illusion to hide the gruesome reality he's once faced made him sick to his stomach; despite the royal status being praised with gold and shiny jewels, a prison will serve the same purpose always. These folks just knew how to put on a smile elegant enough to make it seem any different.
He imagines the cold seeps into their bones with unmatched cruelty, to the point where any warmth sizzles out and it all becomes a waiting game, with every day spent with the privilege to breathe threatening to be the last - a freeze that Simon was determined to melt away. He knew the true fire would have to come from within, but if he could make as much as a spark, prove that there's a way to ignite and fight against it, then he could be put out knowing that the people's will would continue to burn in his place, and the land will see the cold no more.
Taka's tracker signaled closer and closer with every step, calling his name in what would be his first trial in this long mission. He knew he wouldn't back down from the fight, no matter what 'she' threw his way, for he could hear the cracking of the ice coating those relying on him and yearned to have it give way, see them fight alongside him in a blaze of power until victory washes over them like a calm breeze, brushing their skin as if to soothe their wounds.
A wildfire has never sounded so glorious.
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kemuele · 1 year ago
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His ninety-nine percent confidence is correct about his power; though if he were in Dean's shoes, he'd make that ninety-nine turn into a one-hundred. Kemuel simply nods along as werewolf regeneration is brought up. It is useful, yes, but it no match to the power at his fingertips. Or, perhaps, wing-tips. "Few have the pleasure to," he replies and slowly looks him over. Dean's arm roll is an assurance things will be fine, much like the self-deprecating chuckle.
They all have been there--right?
"It is good to meet you, Dean Forester. Werewolf, mechanic, and 'bag boy'." Kem's tone is even, though it does gain a dubious lift at the "bag boy" title. Uncertain, but unsure whether to inquire what it entails. The archangel moves to stand back up, offering a hand to Dean.
"My name is Kemuel. Are you from the area, Dean? Or are you staying somewhere nearby?"
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He wasn't lying. Boy, did it ever feel hot. But it wasn't the most unpleasant sensation that he'd ever had but he did have to make sure to hold still. Soon enough, the pain and heat were ebbing away. Leaving him feeling tired but otherwise completely normal. But it still didn't answer the question of just what or who the hell this guy was. Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know. The world was scary enough without knowing what all powerful beings lurked in the darkness. He really had gotten lucky because he was ninety nine percent sure this guy could wipe him off the map. "A lot better...I didn't know healing like that even existed. I mean...Werewolves heal fast but not that fast. Thank you. I guess the least I could do after that is introduce myself. I'm Dean. Dean Forester. Werewolf, mechanic, bag boy. Sounds like a real exciting life, I'm sure." He laughed a little at his own expense, giving an experimental roll of his arm. "Yeah...Feels a lot better."
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frostbittenfemme · 3 months ago
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As always Lyndaxy did an awesome job! Look at her and her boys 🥺😭🩵
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gmanmedias · 1 year ago
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I HEARD THAT YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW, SO HERE’S TO BELIEVING IN GHOSTS
🪶 🪶 🪶
🖤 🖤 🖤
🎸 🎸 🎸
silver scream 6/13
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gun-roswell · 2 months ago
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Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: CT-9904 | Crosshair/Clone Commander Mayday Characters: CT-9904 | Crosshair, Clone Commander Mayday (Star Wars), Ice Vulture CT-9904 | Crosshair, Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars) Additional Tags: wing fic, Fantasy AU, Open to Interpretation, Narrative, POV CT-9904 | Crosshair, Ice Vultures, Metamorphosis, Cloneshipping | Clone Trooper/Clone Trooper Relationships (Star Wars) Series: Part 24 of Crosshair/Mayday, Part 1 of Fandom Wing Fic, Part 1 of Crosshair and The Ice Vultures (Wing Fic)
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Summary: They might have died or then not. What they were becoming now, was something, special, quite magical even.
The Bad Batch S2E12 the Outpost episode reimagined. 
Fantasy AU/ Wing Fic.
Part of May/Cross / Fandom Wing Fic series
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kemuele · 1 year ago
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"Oh, I am fine," he returns with an easy-enough smile. Polite to the eyes and lips, Kemuel doesn't seem bothered by Ethan's question. If anything, he is curious for the other's isolating ways. Is he, too, separating himself from people? Taking on an observational role in the world? He sees the werewolf for what he is, but his demeanor is far unlike the brutes of his kind.
What happened to cause this?
"The woods can be very peaceful, would you agree? The quiet is a rare...treat these days," he goes on to say, adjusting his coat with a light tug to the sleeves. "Do you live around here? I can leave, if I am trespassing."
@kemuele ∣ 🐺
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"Hey, uh... you alright? Never figured there'd be no-one out here, jus'... jus' wanted to make you're okay is all."
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rachaelmayo · 8 months ago
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This is Tropical Iridescence 2 from 2008. It's another lunchtime doodle runamuck. I made it with Prismacolor Verithins.
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celineszoges · 9 days ago
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Keep penguin sport mascots alive! Prevent penguin extinction in the wild !
Sports Penguins Teams proudly give back to fund their penguin namesake and brand survival! Especially the Emperor and African penguins!
Are Penguins really Birds, really? ... Yes really, flightless aquatic Birds!
Penguins - BirdLife International "Penguins are sadly one of the most threatened groups of seabirds, with half of the 18 species listed by Birdlife as either Vulnerable or Endangered."
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atlanticghostcrab · 9 months ago
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