#had to try drawing Brooklynn again
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
”When you and the bestie are both obsessed with Dark Web Diving”
These dinosaur chains I wanted to buy for my boots sold out and I’m forever mad at myself for not buying them earlier.
So I drew Ben and Brooklynn with them on their boots, to make me feel better. (You can’t really see it on Ben cause of shading rip.)
Timelapse undercut:
Songs used Blister in the Sun Cover by Crummy Stuff (literally what I thought Ben was singing to in that one episode) and Deceptacon by Le Tigre.
#chaos theory#jurassic world chaos theory#jwct#ben jwct#ben pincus#brooklynn jwct#had to try drawing Brooklynn again#Feel like she’d get him to add onto his wardrobe everytime they hang out.#Yes those are ankylosaurus charms on his boots too.#I got the pose reference from a random person’s social so uhhh… thanks person for being the perfect reference#Brooklynn posts the picture in the Camp Fam group chat and everyone goes wild lol#AL’s scribblings of Nublar
672 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you do a Yasmina x fem reader any theme is fine, hope your having a good day and thanks if you do do my req <3 !
hi! sorry for the delay but here it is! I hope this is okay :)
You never thought you’d say this, but life on the island is boring. You never realized how little there was to do when you weren’t running for your life. Yas shared that sentiment. She’s not used to be confined to a smaller space, not that the island is cramped or anything, everyone would just prefer if she didn’t run off on her own since no one knew what was out there. And not to mention, no one could keep up with her. You had to be honest, neither could you but you wished you could. You wondered it that was enough.
You hadn’t been out there very long, it’s only been about a month since you all missed the ferry. Since Ben fell off the monorail. SInce you all realized, you had nothing but each other and that would have to be enough.
“Hey Y/n! Get over here, I have something I want to show you!” Yas called.
You weren’t expecting it but apparently Brooklynn was. She patted your shoulder and said, “Go get her!”
You waved her off as you went to see what Yas had for you.
“Come with me.” Yas gently brings you not far from the base you all had set up. A small cave. The sun was at the perfect place in the sky to warmly illuminate the inside. It was just the two of you, you were nervous. How could you not be? It was Yas. The Track Star. The prettiest (and snarkiest) girl you’d ever seen.
“What’re we doing here?” You ask, you look around the cave, there are little drawings everywhere.
“I.. realized that if you take a rock or something and mash up the right flowers…. You get some kind of colored paint and I thought that you might like them.” She sort of mutters and maybe it’s a trick of the light (or smeared paint) you could’ve sworn her cheeks were pink.
“You made paint? Yas that’s amazing!” You spin around, taking in all the drawings on the walls as you realize she drew them. “It’s like we’re cave people again! Can I try?”
“Yeah! Of course, let me show you.” Yas says, grabbing some wood that’s almost shaped like a bowl and a particularly thick stick. “What color do you want to make?”
“Anything your heart desires.” You tell her with a smile.
She rolls her eyes, “Wow, that’s helpful.” Her smile tells you she’s not mad.
“Fine, how about… orange?” You choose finally.
Yas picks up some berries, the kind you can’t eat. You watch her hands as she mushes them creating a thick orange paste. She hands you the bowl and says, “Go wild.”
And you certainly do, you had been bored before and now you finally had something to do. Something to do with the girl you liked, you had an excuse to bond with her. You had wondered why she showed you her gallery instead of Sammy, who you noticed she was close to even after their falling out due to Broolynn’s phone situation. Maybe you actually meant something to her. Something special. There’s one thing she never let anyone see, her sketchbook. And now she let you into her safe space, her own personal art gallery. She doesn’t see you as a critic as you walk the metaphorical halls, you’re a patron. You’re an aesthete and she’s the art.
You both stay in the cave for hours, painting until you ask, “What should I draw?”
“Whatever your heart desires.” She replies, dipping her thumb into her own paint.
“Haha very funny.” You laugh as she gets revenge for earlier. “Know what? Yeah, I will.”
You draw a girl. Black hair, always tied up. She wears a ripped gray track suit with purple accents. The girl’s ankle is hurt but she’s running anyway. She smiles anyway, in a situation full of uncertainty she’s sure of herself. Or seems so. She’s what-
“I thought you were going to draw what your heart desires. Not me” Yas smiles at you though she is confused, maybe she’s trying not to get her hopes up.
“I did.. I drew you.” I admit quietly from across the cave. It’s harder than you thought it’d be. Harder than running from dinosaurs? No. That’s definitely scarier, but this is close!
“You desire… me? Like- You mean?” Yas asks, looking at you trying to read your mind.
“Yeah! I… like you.” It feels weird to get that off of your chest. Yas walks closer and gently puts her hand to your cheek.
“I like you too.” She smiles at you and you smile back. She moves her hand then laughs, “You uh.. have a little something there.”
You put your hand where hers just was. There’s paint on your cheek in the shape of her hand.
Before you get a chance to comment, Brooklynn pokes her head in, “There you guy- am I interrupting something?” She wiggles her brows.
“Yes!”
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
endless forms
Rated T for: Language, violence, blood/injury, drowning, eye injury, internalized ableism
Summary: The campers’ boat is sabotaged by Wu’s mercenaries, leaving them stranded on Isla Nublar indefinitely. Through good times and bad, only one thing is for certain; none of them will ever be the same.
A/N: Well, when I sat down to write more JWCC angst, I didn’t expect it to be 14k words long, but here we are! This is my take on a fic where the campers get stranded for the whole three years between the movies, meant to be taken as a series of snapshots into the campers’ lives. Hope you enjoy, reblogs/comments are appreciated! - Aqua
Click here to read on A03 (with more complete tags).
Click here to support me on ko-fi!
~*~
“There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved.”
- Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species
~*~
endless forms
~*~
After escaping Wu’s team, the campers find the boat right where they left it.
It’s just on fire.
Pitch-black smoke curls up into the sky, smelling of metal and gasoline. Orange flames flicker through the shattered windows of the main cabin and the bow is dipping into the water. For a few long seconds, all they can do is stare. The realization sinks into them one by one as their wide eyes trace the telltale holes in the side of the boat.
Wu’s mercenaries had guns.
Darius finally breaks down. He drops to his knees right there on the dock and sobs, screaming his frustration and despair and desperation in wordless cries. His fingernails dig into his arms hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t even feel the sting over the agony seizing his heart, the guilt crushing his lungs, and he cries like the world is ending.
Kenji’s ill feelings towards Darius are forgotten in a flash. Blinking away his own tears, he immediately wraps his arms around Darius, holding him tightly. And all he can think is how small the other boy feels in his arms, this twelve-year-old leader of theirs who’s placed the weight of their lives on his shoulders time and time again without complaint.
Brooklynn is right next to them, squeezing Darius’s arm as tears stream down her face. She murmurs reassurances into his ear even while her stomach churns, because this is what they get for trying to do the right thing, trying to be heroes, they’re going to be stuck here forever and she knows that whatever good they accomplished today wasn’t worth it.
Yaz chokes back a sob and sprints down the rest of the dock, raking her hands through her messy ponytail as she surveys the damage, her silhouette outlined in flame and smoke. Her weight shifts from foot to foot restlessly, anxiously, uselessly, mind racing for something she can do to stop this, to fix this, but coming up blank.
Sammy is stunned, standing motionless and staring at the boat with wide eyes, uncomprehending. She knows what must’ve happened but she can’t make sense of it. Her hands hang limply at her sides and her voice is painfully small in her own ears as she mumbles to herself, “But… they didn’t have to do that… why would they do that…?”
Standing off to the side, Ben can’t quite figure out if he’s feeling disappointment or relief as he idly watches the flames dance. But he does know that, whatever his feelings on leaving the island are, his friends don’t deserve to suffer like this. So he makes himself a promise, that if they ever get another chance, he’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.
In the meantime, everyone falls apart in their own way as the boat is slowly consumed by fire and sinks, inch by inch of twisted wreckage, into the depths below.
~*~
The walk back to camp is deathly silent.
It’s Ben who leads the group this time, Darius sandwiched between Brooklynn and Kenji as Sammy and Yaz bring up the rear. With how shell-shocked and rattled they are, they rely on Ben’s steady composure and sharp senses to take them through the jungle safely.
None of them can really spare a moment to wonder how Ben is taking this all so well, but if they did, they wouldn’t be surprised.
~*~
It takes all of three days for Darius to bounce back.
Three days spent curled up in his bunk, too worn out to cry, refusing food and refusing to talk. All things considered, that’s a remarkably short amount of time to be depressed, given their circumstances, so the others let him be.
When Darius does emerge, he’s more like his old self, but there’s a certain spark missing from his eyes.
“We can’t give up,” Darius says, in the first conversation he’s had with the others in three days. “Someone will come to this island eventually, even if not to rescue us. It’s the only place in the world with living dinosaurs, we already know people can’t resist it. We just have to survive until then.”
They all agree, because Darius sounds determined enough that they almost want to believe him. But they’ve seen the missing light in his eyes and they know what it means.
Quietly, privately, they each grieve the well-worn hope that’s finally been pulled from their grasp. They mourn their old lives, their families, coming to grips with the likely possibility that they will never go home, that they will live on this island until the day they die- however soon that may be.
For Darius, it’s guilt more than anything. He’s given his family another source of heartache, left it smaller and more broken than it already was. But more than that, he hates to think that he’s given them something to resent his dad for. After all, Jurassic World was a dream that Darius inherited from him. When he left, they were happy for him, but nervous, too, and he’d promised he’d be fine. At the time, he hadn’t realized his last words to them would be a lie.
For Kenji, who knows full well that his father has the resources to send out his own search party and yet hasn’t done so, it’s a melancholy affair. He’ll miss him, even though the reverse probably isn’t true, even though the man probably doesn’t deserve it. He just wishes it hadn’t taken getting stranded on dinosaur island to realize how lonely his life had been before. And he wishes he’d meant enough to someone, anyone, to be missed.
For Brooklynn, it’s a similar feeling. Her thoughts are with her fans more than her distant parents, wishing she could provide them some kind of closure, while at the same time resenting the warped self-perception they’ve given her. Has her disappearance meant anything more than a few clickbait videos or a trending hashtag? She finds it unlikely. And is that all her life has amounted to? There was so much more she wanted to do, so much more she wanted to be.
For Yaz, her rage is matched only by her regret. She had a bright future, a promising future. She was supposed to go pro, make her parents and coaches proud. And then all her hard work, her long days and short nights, her sore muscles and joyless childhood, would’ve been worth it. She was robbed and she is furious, but there is nothing to do and no one to fight. Let her see Wu and his thuggish crew again, and she will give them a taste of the hell they’ve condemned her to.
For Sammy, the grief is almost overwhelming. Her parents never wanted her to go in the first place, and will probably blame themselves forever. Her little sisters will have to grow up without her, and the thought is enough to bring tears to her eyes. She loves her family and would do anything for them, would’ve made the same choice again in a heartbeat, but oh, how she wishes it hadn’t ended like this. It didn’t have to end like this.
For Ben, who buried his own hope months ago in an unmarked grave, it’s business as usual.
~*~
There are a lot of silent tears at night, now.
As they trade off on night watch shifts, they don’t really acknowledge it aside from a wordless pat on the shoulder or a brief hug. There’s no point in asking what’s wrong when they all know, and there’s nothing they can say in reassurance.
Ben offers to take the whole watch by himself, to let them all rest, but it doesn’t really matter when none of them are sleeping, anyway.
~*~
Food is the first thing on the to-do list.
“Even if we increase our rationing,” Darius muses, “the supply we have will only last another couple weeks, at most. We need a reliable source of food.” And then he turns to look at Ben, with slight trepidation because there’s a good chance Ben’s answer will be berries and grubs.
Ben, who’s clearly already given the subject some thought, shrugs and says, “Either we learn how to hunt dinosaurs, or we learn how to fish.”
Fishing wins, by unanimous decision.
Over the next several days, they scavenge their usual spots for every bit of rope they can find. There are a few coils of it in the emergency kits they found at the veterinary station, there’s some strung between railing at the docks, and there’s even novelty jump ropes in the giftshops that are thick enough to work.
Brooklynn has a vague recollection of how to weave a fishing net, from the same unboxing video where she gained her scant experience with rafts, and between all of them they manage something passable. The first time they lower the net into the river, they’re all breathless with anticipation.
Over the next couple hours of inactivity, anticipation steadily turns to boredom. Eventually, though, the net does yield fish.
The fish in the river aren’t very big, about the length of a small hand. Their scales are slimy and their flesh is full of tiny pin bones. But it’s the first actual protein they’ve had since Mitch and Tiff’s campsite, and it isn’t from out of a can, so they’re more than satisfied.
Ben makes a fire for them to cook the fish on despite Kenji insisting they can be eaten raw because of his past experiences with eating sushi. Darius, who has never tried sushi, doesn’t think that sounds right but doesn’t know enough about sushi to dispute it. Brooklynn is quick with the fact check, however, and points out there’s probably a lot of bacteria in the river so they should cook the fish to be safe.
Of course, it takes all of five seconds for them to realize it’s the same river they’ve been getting their drinking and bathing water from, so technically they wouldn’t be any worse off for it, but raw fish is an acquired taste, anyways. In the end, they cook the fish.
Sammy, who’s looking a little green, timidly suggests maybe they should start boiling the river water before they use it from now on- which everyone readily agrees to.
(Yaz, who’s been drinking raw egg protein shakes every morning since she was eleven, doesn’t see what the big deal is, but keeps her opinion to herself.)
~*~
It’s around that small campfire, eating their first dinner of freshly-caught fish, that Darius’s composure abruptly slips.
He isn’t sure what causes it. One second he’s listening to Kenji wistfully rattle off a story about some amazing fresh sushi bar in Tokyo, and the next he’s staring at the bowl in his lap with blurred vision from the tears in his eyes.
Sitting next to him, Brooklynn lightly bumps her shoulder against his. A silent show of support.
Darius manages to smile at her and keep eating.
~*~
They set aside a day to pick through Mitch and Tiff’s campsite.
Most of what was there was trampled into ruin by the stampede, but there are a few good finds. Canvas from the tents makes for bedding and wall reinforcements alike, and there are some weapons that weren’t destroyed. No guns, but three long knives and a machete that are in good condition. Everything else is snapped or bent.
The machete goes to Kenji, who tries to pretend it doesn’t unnerve him. Ben, who has started keeping his spear strapped to his back at all times, gives him a knowing look and helps sift through the rubble until they find a sheath for it. Sammy and Yaz each get a knife. Brooklynn, now favoring a baseball bat, passes the last knife off to Darius.
“There’s a lot of super useful things we can do with these,” Darius says on the walk home, forcing cheer into his voice. “Stripping firewood, cleaning fish, cutting ropes, opening cans…”
They all know the most likely use will be poking an attacking dinosaur’s eye out, but the thought sits uncomfortably. Ben can see it from the way they hold their weapons. How strange, he muses to himself, that the thought of violence still makes them so uneasy.
“And for defending ourselves,” he adds, when no one else says it.
Darius grimaces. “Right. If we have to.”
Ben snorts but says nothing else.
They all know they’ll have to, sooner or later.
~*~
They have a discussion on whether they should move base or not.
Their camp is looking a little worse for wear, and Kenji’s condo- or, his dad’s condo- is a tempting prospect. It’s incredibly secure, assuming all the dinosaurs have cleared out by now, and protected from the elements. They could fortify the vents and doors, and have a virtually impenetrable fortress.
Kenji leaps at the idea, wanting to provide at least this bit of comfort and security for the others.
But ultimately, they decide it’d be too risky to move away from the river, their source of freshwater and food alike. Plus, trekking up and down a condominium with non-functional elevators everyday seems like a waste of time and energy.
It’s good to have it in their back pockets, though, as a safehouse to fall back on if needed. And they make plans to have a scavenging trip through the building for anything useful.
Kenji’s satisfied enough with that.
~*~
A routine is established.
Maintaining their food and water supply takes first priority. Through trial and error, they find the best spots in the river to cast their net, and Ben even makes some progress in using his spear to fish. It’s not really necessary, because a single catch is plenty enough to feed them all, but they’ve noticed Ben is more likely to eat when he gets his food himself, so no one questions the habit.
They stockpile firewood and cut down thick ferns and vines to fortify their camp with, making the roof water-tight and the walls more substantial. Darius and Yaz work on a map of the island, making small expeditions farther and farther out from camp so they can better familiarize themselves with the surrounding area. They note which places are regularly inhabited with dinosaurs and where all the structures are, to be scavenged through at a later date.
The tunnel system is also being mapped out. They find Brooklynn’s universal keycard can open some of the underground security doors, and Ben has plans for using controlled fires to melt the ones that it can’t. They chase out the few Compies that are still around and make sure to seal up whatever outside entrances they find, ensuring the system can only be accessed by opening one of the hatches.
(They find the room E750 escaped from. After picking through it for anything useful, they block it up for good, if only to make themselves feel better.)
~*~
There are always dinosaurs.
They don’t ever go more than a day without at least seeing one, unless they stay inside the camp the whole time. Darius would like to say they’re getting more and more used to it, every time an attack happens, but in reality he knows it will never be anything other than terrifying to hear that telltale roar in the distance.
He supposes it’s best not to get complacent, anyways.
~*~
One day, Yaz pulls Sammy away from the camp to talk.
In private.
“Look,” she starts without preamble, staring doggedly at the ground, “I’m not the best when it comes to emotions. But after everything that’s happened… I couldn’t- I can’t just say nothing. And now, now I figure… what have we got to lose, you know?”
Sammy tilts her head. “Okay…?”
Yaz risks a look up. “I… like you, Sammy,” she says quietly. “I mean, really like you.”
Sammy just gives her a gentle smile. “I… sort’a had a feeling.”
“What?” Yaz’s heart jolts, her eyes wide. “You knew?”
“I mean, yeah,” Sammy laughs, but her cheeks are flushed and she plays anxiously with her hair. “Well, I mean, I- I hoped… the way you act around me, I thought it had to mean something. But I wasn’t sure if maybe I was just misreadin’ things or not, so I figured I’d wait n’ see if you brought it up.”
Yaz is stunned. So much for keeping things close to the vest. It takes her a few moments to find her words, mouth opening and closing as she scans Sammy’s face- she’s amused but not unkindly so, and there’s the faintest glimmer of anticipation in her deep brown eyes.
“So… you know I like you,” Yaz settles on finally, her breath tight in her chest. “Do… do you like me, too?”
At this, Sammy breaks into a grin. “Yeah, of course I like you,” she says vehemently, taking Yaz’s arms to pull her closer. “Guess I should’a made it even more obvious.”
Yaz feels her face heat up. Had she really been so oblivious? “Maybe you should,” she murmurs, her heart starting to race. “Just to make sure I really get the message.”
And Sammy does just that, leaning in to kiss her with a smile.
It’s Sammy’s first kiss with a girl, and Yaz’s first kiss at all. It’s short and sweet, but manages to leave them breathless anyways. Sammy rests her forehead against Yaz’s as her arms settle around her waist to hold her just a little longer, almost reluctant for this moment to end.
“I’m glad I met you,” Yaz whispers. “Even if it took coming to dinosaur island.”
Sammy giggles. “Hey, at least we get somethin’ good out of the whole deal.”
They return to camp with interlaced hands and matching grins, and Brooklynn squeals loud enough to make Ben jump. Darius gives them a happy but knowing smile, and Kenji is caught completely off-guard.
Despite the fact that they’re now officially dating, not much changes for them on a daily basis aside from the occasional kiss. They talk and hang out together just as much as they did before.
… and okay, yeah, now Yaz sees it.
~*~
Ben visits Bumpy every couple days, both to check up on her and to ensure their bond doesn’t completely fade away.
Even though she lives with her new herd full time, it’s reassuring for the campers to know they’ll always have a friend in the Ankylosauruses.
~*~
In a moment of downtime, Yaz is reclined on the couch with her sketchbook in her lap, adding some shading to a sketch of Sammy, when Brooklynn suddenly swoops in to sit next to her. The appearance of the younger girl instantly makes Yaz snap her sketchbook shut, her cheeks flushing.
“Hi!” Brooklynn greets her cheerily.
“Hey,” Yaz offers, eyeing Brooklynn warily. She holds her sketchbook protectively to her chest, hoping that Brooklynn won’t ask about it.
“So…” Brooklynn drawls, her green eyes bright and eager. “Sammina or Yasammy?”
Yaz blinks, sitting up to face her better. “What?”
“You and Sammy’s couple name,” Brooklynn explains, leaning forward excitedly. “Which one do you like better?”
Yaz snorts, managing not to roll her eyes. “We don’t need a couple name, we’re not celebrities.”
“I guess not,” Brooklynn relents. Her grin eases into something smaller, more genuine. “It’s just… nice. To see you two happy together.”
Yaz softens. “Thanks. I’ve… never been in a relationship before,” she confesses. “I guess that’s why it took me so long to realize what my feelings meant.”
Brooklynn nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure everyone else knew before you did. Well, except Kenji,” she laughs. “So wait, did you even know you liked girls?”
“No.” Yaz shakes her head. “I mean, I guess the only people I’ve been close enough to develop feelings for would be my teammates, which uh, was an all-girls’ team. But if I did, I… didn’t realize it.”
“Huh. Must’ve been a surprise,” Brooklynn muses. “I’ve known I was bi since I was ten. Or, well, the internet sort of figured it out for me.”
Yaz raises her eyebrows. “Woah. That’s… kind of young, isn’t it?” she asks hesitantly.
Brooklynn makes a noncommittal noise. “Not a lot of privacy growing up when your parents run a super popular family channel,” she says faintly. “All the speculation and pressure to come out kinda… expedited the process.”
“I’m sorry,” Yaz murmurs, her brows furrowing. “That should’ve been something you figured out in your own time, on your own terms.”
Brooklynn gives her an appreciative look. “It’s alright. It sort of gave me a head start, in being a voice for all my LGBT fans. A lot of kids look up to me, so I’m glad I can be a role model for them, and help them know it’s okay.” She glances away, picking at a loose thread on the sofa. “Besides, there have been countdowns to my eighteenth birthday for years, so I’m used to not having any privacy.”
“Okay, that’s messed up,” Yaz says, appalled.
Brooklynn shrugs, lips tugging up in a rueful smile. “The life of an online superstar, right?”
“Yikes.” Yaz suppresses a shudder. “If we ever get back home, you have got to consider a new career.”
That makes Brooklynn laugh. “Okay, maybe I can tag along to a track meet with you, try out the athlete grind?” she suggests.
“Sure, just don’t forget your briefcase,” Yaz teases.
“Ugh.” Brooklynn holds her face in her hands, but can’t quite hide her grin. “Are you ever gonna let that go?”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Yaz warns, but she’s smiling, too.
~*~
None of them realize how much they’re growing until certain shelves in their camp suddenly become easier to reach. Yaz goes to kiss Sammy’s cheek one day and is startled to find she has to go up on her toes. When Kenji ruffles Darius’s hair, his hand is almost at eye-level.
For a while, height becomes sort of a competition, or at least something to brag about. The day Darius surpasses Ben is only beaten by the day Sammy nearly catches up to Kenji- up until he has his own growth spurt.
(At the end of three years, Kenji will still be the tallest, but only slightly above Sammy. The difference between Yaz, Darius, and Ben comes down to millimeters, but Brooklynn is the shortest by several inches.)
~*~
The campers warm up to the idea of using weapons.
None of them have any combat training, aside from Yaz’s five years of kickboxing lessons, so it’s mostly trial and error. They figure out the best way to use their weapons without hurting themselves, practicing stabs and slashes against the thick jungle tree trunks until the movement feels natural and fluid, building muscle memory and calluses alike.
It's a somber affair, but necessary.
~*~
After a particularly robust bout of growth spurts, their clothes start to feel a bit too tight and a bit too short.
Kenji’s condo is the first place they check for replacements. Unfortunately, it wasn’t really stocked for long-term living, and all they find are a few extra suits in his father’s suite. Nothing suitable for living on a tropical island, and they aren’t confident enough in their collective sewing abilities to fashion better fitting clothes out of the material.
Their next stop is the various gift shops on Main Street. They time their raid carefully to ensure the T-Rex is absent, posting Ben as a lookout because he was the least concerned with picking out anything specific to wear.
Ultimately, they all find a shirt and a pair of shorts that fit them. Everything has some kind of Jurassic World branding on it, but it can’t be helped. Some are more tasteful than others, in any case.
Darius picks a simple black T-shirt that has two little raptors printed on it, to look as if they’re poking out of the pocket. It amuses him endlessly because real Velociraptor hatchlings would be way too big for that.
Kenji takes a liking to a vintage-looking T-shirt with the original Jurassic Park logo on it. And for Ben, he grabs one with a cinematic print of the Mosasaurus, about to engulf a Great White shark. (Ben, after tearing off the short sleeves to convert it to a tank top, deems it acceptable).
Brooklynn manages to find the only pink shirt in the place. It has a chart on it displaying images of different Velociraptor expressions which, in her opinion, is a bonus- even if the ‘sad raptor’ looks suspiciously similar to ‘confused raptor.’
Sammy goes with a white tank top with the Jurassic World logo, artfully surrounded by greyscale leaves and ferns.
Yaz is disappointed by the lack of athletic clothing, but settles for a crop top that reads, ‘It’s a Wild Jurassic World.’ After changing, she shows off the six pack everyone always suspected she had, making Sammy blush.
None of the gift shops carry underwear, but there is a shop for swimsuits. It’s… an unconventional substitution, but technically, the function should be the same. In fact, the swimwear is probably more durable than their current undergarments, and the waterproof material is helpful considering the tropical climate. All of them know the horrors of soggy underwear and would like to avoid repeating the experience, so the swimsuits are deemed acceptable.
Sammy, who’s had wire poking out from her bra for several weeks now, calls first dibs on the changing room.
~*~
Ben shows them how to construct small bits of armor out of vines and tree bark. It’s somewhat of a moot point, because they all know it can’t protect them from a dinosaur’s teeth or claws or crushing weight. But it can protect their arms and legs from small bumps and scrapes, often obtained when sprinting through the jungle, and it helps them feel slightly more capable.
And at the very least, it makes their cheesy souvenir outfits look slightly more cool.
~*~
The pages of Darius’s field guide start to fill up.
He tries writing smaller and using fewer illustrations to save space, but in the end, there’s just too much he wants to include and before he knows it, he’s staring at the back cover.
Part of him knows it’s not really important. He had originally started the practice so that once they got off the island, he could share his findings with the world. Now, though, the chances of anyone else ever reading his guide are slim.
Still, he finds himself reaching for it anytime he makes a new observation, only to be disappointed when he remembers.
~*~
Yaz’s ankle gives out, eventually.
It’s an ordinary day for them- which includes running for their lives from a dinosaur (a stray Monolophosaurus, in this case). A few sharp turns and heavy landings later, and suddenly there’s a loud pop. Yaz gasps, stumbling to her knees. Her face is pale and sheened with sweat, eyes wide with horror.
Sammy quickly doubles back for her, throwing Yaz’s arm around her shoulders to pull her up. But her foot won’t take her weight even with Sammy’s help.
By unspoken agreement, the rest of the campers dart into a loose circle around them, protecting each other’s backs with weapons at the ready. The Monolophosaurus catches up to them seconds later, pulling up short once it sees their defensive formation.
It paces around them uncertainly, tail lashing from side to side. Hissing, it makes a few swipes at them, darting forward and snapping its jaws.
The camper it happens to be closest to is Ben, who responds by screaming at it at the top of his lungs, jabbing forward with his spear. That seems to make the Monolophosaurus pause.
The rest of the campers join in immediately, screaming and swiping their weapons at it. Kenji’s machete comes close, but it’s Brooklynn’s bat that finally lands a solid hit on the side of the dinosaur’s face.
Snarling, the Monolophosaurus staggers back a few steps, shaking its head. It roars at them, almost indignantly, before turning and stalking back into the underbrush.
There’s no time to celebrate their victory- screaming is a good deterrent for smaller dinosaurs, but can easily attract the bigger ones. Wordlessly, Kenji lifts Yaz onto his back, and they begin their trek back to camp.
As soon as Brooklynn gets a look at Yaz’s ankle, her stomach drops. She would like to say it’s just a sprain. She knows how to help with those. But she heard the way Yaz’s ankle popped, and her entire foot is swollen and bruised, and the joint seems way too loose. The slightest movement has Yaz in tears, and it can’t bear any weight at all.
Whether it’s a torn ligament or a broken bone, it’s something beyond Brooklynn’s capacity to fix. All she can suggest is rest and support.
Using their scarce medical supplies and whatever materials they can scavenge up, they build a brace for Yaz. It’s clunky and only remotely boot-shaped, made out of metal pipes, tree bark, and compression tape, but it’s better than nothing.
Even after taking it easy for a couple weeks (as easy as she can, anyways), trying to do anything more than walking without the brace makes her stumble. It isn’t healing the way it should be, stuck at about 70%, and Yaz feels with horrible certainty that she’s damaged something permanently.
The brace stays on.
~*~
“Let me know if it hurts, alright?” Sammy asks.
The brace isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, and at the end of a long day, Yaz’s leg is left pretty sore. Sammy’s taken it upon herself to massage Yaz’s aching muscles before bed, to help her relax and hopefully get some rest before it’s her turn for night watch. It’s yet another way their relationship has grown closer, in addition to them now sharing a bunk.
“You don’t have to do this,” Yaz mumbles, not for the first time.
Sammy gives her a patient smile. Her hands are infinitely gentle as they move over Yaz’s ankle, careful to soothe instead of hurt. “I already told you, sweet pea, I don’t mind. ‘Sides, it’s the least I can do.”
Yaz sits up a little more, careful not to bump her head on the roof of their bunk. “What do you mean?” she asks, frowning. “You don’t owe me anything.”
Sammy shrugs, her gaze downcast. “Well, you first hurt your ankle savin’ me from the Mosasaurus. And you didn’t even like me back then. Not to mention you probably reinjured it that night with the Scorpius-”
“Hey,” Yaz says softly. “This isn’t your fault.”
“I know.” Sammy’s smile is faint. “I just… after everything you’ve done for me…”
“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat,” Yaz swears.
And despite how terrified she is that her ankle will be the death of her, and the guilt she feels for being a burden on the group, she means it.
~*~
Brooklynn, a late bloomer, has her first period.
Sammy, an early bloomer who’s been dealing with hers since she was eleven, makes a perfect mother hen and helps the younger girl through it, banishing the boys from the camp for a few days.
They decide to make themselves useful and raid Kenji’s condo for chocolate bars. They’re stale, but a very welcome treat. Brooklynn tears up upon receiving them, and then punches Darius in the arm to make up for it.
~*~
“So hey, if you had to pick, which dino would you want to eat you?”
Kenji’s offhanded question comes out of nowhere, surprising and appalling the other campers. But before Darius can reprimand him, Ben’s immediately providing an answer, without even looking up from the fire where his fish is cooking.
“Easy, the T-Rex.”
Darius gawks as Kenji gives a delighted grin.
“Really?” Yaz asks, knitting her brows together.
“Of course,” Ben says matter-of-factly. “With the T-Rex, at least it’d be over in one big bite instead of a super painful mauling. Plus, if someone asks what happened to me, ‘He got eaten by a T-Rex’ sounds way cooler than ‘He got eaten by a Monolophosaurus.’ No one even knows what a Monolophosaurus is.”
Darius gives him an offended look.
“Okay, most people don’t know what a Monolophosaurus is,” Ben amends, rolling his eyes even as he smiles.
“Stop saying Monolophosaurus,” Brooklynn huffs.
“Hey, what about the Mosasaurus?” Kenji asks teasingly, lightly elbowing Ben in the ribs.
Ben wrinkles his nose. “Uh, it’d be really stupid to get eaten by something that’s literally confined to a tank. Plus, it might swallow me alive, and getting slowly digested would suck.”
Yaz’s expression is a cross between fascinated and disturbed. “You’ve given this a concerning amount of thought.”
Ben shrugs. “Not much else to think about.”
“You sure you wouldn’t rather get killed by an herbivore?” Sammy chimes in, as if she’s making a generous offer. Her arm is settled comfortably around Yaz’s shoulders. “Broken neck is a faster way to go than gettin’ chewed up.”
“Hundred percent,” Ben assures her. “If a dinosaur is gonna kill me, it better at least get a meal out of it. Can’t blame a carnivore for hunting, that’s the circle of life.”
Kenji snickers. “No offense, but you wouldn’t make much of a meal for anything other than the Compies.”
Ben scowls. “Oh sure, like you’re such a grand feast, yourself?”
“Uh, have you seen me?” Kenji asks in mock disbelief. He curls one arm to proudly show off his bicep. “That’s solid protein right there. Any dino would be lucky to get a bite of this.”
Ben’s eyes quickly dart away, his cheeks tinted ever so slightly. “Why am I not surprised you managed to turn this into an ego trip?” he grumbles, crossing his arms.
Meanwhile, Brooklynn is laughing into her hands somewhat hysterically. “I can’t believe this conversation is happening,” she groans, torn between amusement and mortification.
Darius pats her shoulder consolingly, unable to hide his own grin. “Just let it happen, superstar.”
“Hey, I’m a legit snack, Ben.”
“I don’t even know what that means!”
~*~
Darius is almost drowned by a Parasaurolophus.
No one is sure why the attack happened. Perhaps he was standing a little too close to the deep part of the river, and the dinosaur was feeling a little too territorial that day. One second, he’s directing Kenji and Brooklynn on where to tie the fishing net. The next second, there’s a splash, a shout of alarm, and he’s gone.
Kenji reacts first, racing over and diving into the river. He manages to snag one of Darius’s flailing arms, trying in vain to pull him back to the surface as the water churns around them, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the muddy riverbed.
Ben, who’d been keeping watch on the riverbank, dives in after him. Maneuvering a spear underwater is clumsy, but eventually Ben lands a hit in the face. The Parasaurolophus lets go, its cry of pain muted by the water, and swims off.
Kenji drags Darius ashore. The entirety of his calf has darkened into a nasty bruise from the force of the bite, but there’s no broken skin (Parasaurolophus teeth are flat, meant for grinding plants) and the bone doesn’t appear to be broken.
No, the biggest problem is that Darius has stopped breathing.
His face is slack, his eyes are closed, and his lips are tinted blue. At Ben’s shout, Brooklynn drops to the ground next to Darius and starts CPR. After a few tense moments, Darius’s body spasms, and then he’s coughing up water.
But even after his lungs are clear, he seems weak and confused, barely conscious, so Kenji quickly scoops him up and they hurry back to camp. It takes a couple hours for him to recuperate, laid up in his bunk as the rest of the campers hover anxiously.
When Darius does finally come-to, his first attempts at speaking devolve into coughs. He catches his breath, gaze drifting across each of his friend’s worried faces. “Wh- wha- what… what hap- what…” He stops, furrowing his brows, and tries again. “What happened?”
Ben eyes him apprehensively. “A Parasaurolophus dragged you under,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
Darius pauses, taking stock for a moment. His throat is a little sore and his leg is aching, but other than that, he feels fine. “M- my… my uh… my- my leg is, um… it’s…” His breathing quickens, panic starting to seep through his confusion. What word is he looking for? And why can’t he speak without stuttering?
“Hey, it’s alright,” Sammy quickly soothes him, not quite able to mask the nervous flutter in her voice. She grabs a water bottle and holds it out to him. “Here, just take a drink and have a breather.”
But when Darius goes to reach for it, it slips through his fingers and drops to the floor, a startling smack. Only now does he realize his hands are shaking. He blinks at them, tries to curl them into fists, but it feels like he’s moving through sand.
Yaz scoops the bottle up, alarm flashing in her eyes. “Here,” she murmurs, pressing it into his hand.
Darius keeps hold of it this time, though he can’t hold it quite still, hovering slightly in the air. And when he goes to unscrew the cap, his fingers don’t respond. They’re clumsy and slow and they tremble incessantly. Aghast, he sets the bottle down, unconcerned with his thirst for the moment.
“H- how… how lo- how um, how long was I…” Darius swallows, tries again. “How long w- was I, uh…” What’s the word, what’s the word… “Out?”
“I don’t know,” Kenji says lowly, his expression pinched. “But you weren’t breathing when I pulled you out of the water.”
‘Oh,’ Darius thinks, his chest tightening. ‘That’s not good.’
The realization must’ve shown on his face, because Brooklynn’s breath catches. “You’re… gonna be okay, right?” she asks carefully.
Darius grimaces.
Cerebral hypoxia- oxygen deprivation of the brain- can have many long-term side effects. Among these are memory loss, speech difficulty, and decrease in motor coordination. It’s generally irreversible; once brain cells are dead, there is no healing or replacing them. But it could’ve been much worse. If he’d gone even a couple minutes longer without oxygen, he could’ve had a seizure, wound up in a coma, or even died.
Darius would explain all this if he could, but he can’t string together the words without stuttering or forgetting certain terms, and he can’t hold a pencil steady long enough to write it out. His attempts only frustrate and fluster him as the others grow more concerned.
So in the end, “Brain damage,” is the short explanation he settles for, given with a half-hearted smile.
~*~
It’s a difficult adjustment.
Darius’s motor control isn’t as far gone as he initially feared, but it’s still pretty bad. He can, for the most part, grab and hold things (as long as they aren’t too small). He can still wield a knife, and climb a ladder, and pull in a fishing net. But anything intricate, anything that requires dexterity, is almost impossible.
The others don’t really know how to handle conversations with Darius anymore. They’re torn between patiently waiting for him to find his words, or attempting to help him out by filling them in from context. As a result, there’s a lot of fumbling and uncertainty that makes even casual conversations a challenge.
It’d be easier if Darius could make up his mind on which is more helpful, but that changes by the day. Sometimes, his frustration at forgetting a word is enough to bring him to tears, and he’s desperate for someone to help. Other times, getting cut off is a frustration all its own, because the word is on the tip of his tongue, if he could only get it out.
He tries not to snap at the others. He knows they’re doing their best. But sometimes the reality of the situation, the weight of everything he can no longer do, gets to be too much and he has to walk away before he loses his temper or breaks down crying.
He’s supposed to be a leader, to look after them. He’s supposed to be the one with the answers. And it’s devastating to know he’s failing at it, that he can’t be what they need.
Darius doesn’t tell them this- conversations are even harder when he’s emotional- but Brooklynn seems to figure it out anyways. She corners him after a particularly frustrating day, a knowing look in her green eyes.
“Dude, you have got to stop beating yourself up over this,” she tells him, her voice gentle but firm.
“I- I know that,” Darius tries to insist, but the truth must show in his eyes because Brooklynn sighs.
“You’re so much more than what you can do for other people,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “All the decisions, all the responsibility, it doesn’t always have to be on you and you alone. We’re a team, so for once, put aside that big hero complex of yours and let us help you.”
It takes Darius a few tries to get his words out- and not for the normal reasons. “Okay,” he says finally, blinking away his tears. “Okay, I’ll… I’ll t- try.”
None of them know sign language. But, working together, they come up with a functional system of simple gestures- easy enough for Darius’s stiff fingers to do- that they can use to convey messages. Some of it is basic and intuitive; nodding means yes, shaking your head means no, a hand held up means stop. Then there’s specific signs for things like good, bad, follow, wait, quiet, run, hungry, tired, hurt, all clear, sorry, nice job, back to camp, help, and even a few short phrases.
They try to focus on words Darius is likely to use on a regular basis, so he doesn’t have to waste time and energy saying the same things over and over again, as well as stuff he might need to use in an emergency, where speed is important. After a couple weeks of practice, Darius knows the signs by heart and the others can immediately interpret them, even use them whenever a situation calls for stealth.
It’s not a perfect solution. There will always be times where Darius has to rely on the others to help him with simple tasks, or struggle and stutter through a sentence to get by.
But he doesn’t feel alone anymore, and that’s a good place to be.
~*~
Darius wakes up one day to find some peach fuzz on his upper lip.
Kenji claps him on the shoulder in congratulations while still insisting it’s not as impressive as his mustache, which complements his beard (both are still patchy, more stubble than actual hair, but that’s beside the point).
Meanwhile, Ben is starting to think he’ll never get facial hair.
~*~
Keeping track of time is hard, but it’s been long enough that they can reasonably assume they’ve all had at least one birthday since being stranded.
At least, that’s Kenji’s reasoning behind suddenly declaring it his birthday. “I can’t not have a sweet sixteen birthday party,” he insists. “I’ve been planning it since I was like, ten. It was gonna be a primo yacht party with the hottest DJ in L.A, private catering from a three Michelin Star restaurant, and swimming with professional mermaids.”
Ben snorts. “We could always go for a swim with the Mosasaurus.”
That earns a few snickers from the others. Kenji rolls his eyes. “Okay, obviously I’ll have to throw this party on a budget, but come on!” He throws his hands up. “We deserve to let loose a little bit. Let’s hang at the penthouse for a couple days, live it up!”
The campers have learned by now that Kenji’s showboating is actually a secret way of showing he cares about them. It’s a little disheartening that he feels like the only thing he can offer is his wealth, but they’ve all got their own shit to work through.
So they agree, and that’s how their ‘surprise birthday’ tradition gets started. Whenever they need a break from the stress of their daily life, or one of the campers seems to be in dire need of a boost, they can throw a birthday party to escape it all for a little while. The gifts they scrounge up for each other are crude, but it’s more about the principle of the thing.
(Besides, the best gift for Kenji is watching his friends be carefree teenagers again, even if just for a day.)
~*~
Brooklynn loses the vision in her left eye.
Although they’ve been on the island for a long time now and know it pretty well, there are always surprises. Especially because many of the dinosaurs don’t stick to any kind of regular schedule. The T-Rex has her lair on Main Street, but her hunting trips take her all over the island.
So, running into her unexpectedly is just part of life.
Fortunately, on this particular day, Ben happens to know the area and leads them to a waterfall. It’s part of a sheer cliffside and flows into a deep lake, so it’s perfect for jumping off of to elude the T-Rex.
Unfortunately, on this particular day, Brooklynn slams her head on a rock during the fall down.
When the other campers surface and see Brooklynn floating, motionless in the water with blood pooling around her, the terror of the T-Rex is instantly forgotten. Kenji pulls her to shore, frantically calling her name. She’s breathing but unconscious, and her face is covered in blood, stemming from a gash on her left temple, right beside her eye.
This isn’t the first time one of them has been severely injured, but this time it’s Brooklynn. Having the only person with first aid skills incapacitated adds on an entirely new layer of panic.
It’s a collective effort to try and get Brooklynn stable, to clean away the blood as best they can- as carefully as they can- and bandage the wound. In the time it took them to get back to camp, Brooklynn’s eye has swelled horrifically, so Sammy wets a rag with clean water to use as a cold compress.
From there, all they can do is wait.
Brooklynn does eventually regain consciousness, though it’s clear she’s suffering from a concussion. It’s a struggle to keep her from tearing at the bandages in her confusion, and her cries of pain are heartbreaking. Once she’s rested a bit longer and is more coherent, they explain what happened, and the fear on her face makes her look startlingly younger than she is.
Over the next few weeks, Brooklynn is restricted to bed rest, the other campers having to help her get around until she adjusts to her limited vision. It’s a severe bruise to her pride, and leads to more than a couple breakdowns.
But the worst part is when the bandages come off.
“Okay,” Brooklynn says impatiently, “you can take the rest of them off, now.”
Sammy, clenching a fistful of dirty bandages, swallows hard. “I, uh… already have, hun,” she says as kindly as she can.
Brooklynn freezes as the implications fully sink in. Carefully, she lifts a hand to her eye, her fingers softly probing. She can feel her eye moving around, the way her lashes flutter and her lids open and close. But she can’t see anything besides inky blackness.
“Oh,” Brooklynn says, and then she starts crying. As it turns out, her left eye can still do that.
It’s a heavy revelation for the campers to swallow. With just the right eye, Brooklynn can only see about 45 degrees to the left of her nose. That’s a considerable blind spot to have, when living in a place where the threat of death constantly lurks around every corner.
(Ben takes it particularly hard, as the one responsible for leading the group to the waterfall in the first place.)
And her eye hasn’t just lost its vision, its appearance has changed, too. Her pupil is permanently dilated, slightly larger than that of her good eye. The color of her iris has faded, now a milky white with only hints of green instead of the bright emerald she was born with. And the scarring around her eye leaves the skin a mottled pink, rough under her fingertips.
For the first time in a long time, Brooklynn’s thoughts stray back to her old life, when her image was everything. She can vividly imagine the kind of hate she’d get, if this had happened while she was still an influencer, and it makes her feel sick.
She starts parting her hair to cover her eye, seeing as how it’s useless anyways.
~*~
Relearning how to do everything with one eye is harder than Brooklynn thought it’d be.
The others are helping as much as they can. Using leaves and moss, they pad all the sharp corners in the camp, to lessen the chance of Brooklynn hurting herself when bumping into something. And whenever they have to venture out, one of them- usually Ben- stays firmly on her left side, guarding her blind spot.
Brooklynn is incredibly grateful for their support. She knows they still care about her and would do anything for her, and that accepting their help doesn’t mean she’s weak.
But knowing that isn’t always enough to silence the voices in her head, the ones that tell her she’s useless and ugly, that it’s her fault she was injured in the first place, that she’s a liability who is going to get herself or someone else killed.
It’s hard to open up about this stuff. But when Darius signs ‘Are you okay?’ to her one day, she remembers what she told him after his accident, and doesn’t want to be a hypocrite.
“No,” she says honestly. “I know I can count on you guys to look after me, I do, and I appreciate it. And I should just be glad I’m alive. But whenever I see my reflection, the way it looks, I- I just…” Her voice breaks, and she glances away, her eyes stinging. “It’s stupid, I know. Looking pretty is the last thing to worry about on dinosaur island.”
Darius’s expression softens. His hands are remarkably steady- a rare occurrence, nowadays- as he gently reaches out to brush her hair out of her face. He doesn’t shy away from her bad eye, and meets her gaze evenly.
“The outs- side… isn’t important,” he says. “What really, um, makes a- a person who they are is… is everything up here,” he taps a finger to the side of his head, “and in h- here,” he moves his hand over his heart. “Our- our bodies… are just, uh… just- just the machines we pilot. And ha- having a defective one doesn’t m- make us less of a… a, uh, you know, a… a- a person.” A smile pulls at his mouth. “And I w- would know.”
Brooklynn manages to laugh through her tears. “You know, all you had to do was say that I’m still pretty.”
Darius ducks his head. “O- oh, yeah, uh… that- that too.”
The sincerity in his voice catches Brooklynn off guard. “Oh.” She tucks her hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling shy. “Um, thanks. For everything, I mean.”
“No problem,” Darius replies, scratching the back of his neck. He might be blushing, it’s hard to tell.
It doesn’t magically make all of Brooklynn’s insecurities go away, but she does start wearing her hair back again.
~*~
No one really remembers when the last of the pink grew out of Brooklynn’s hair.
Sammy’s requires frequent haircuts to keep it from becoming an unmanageable tangle of frizz.
Yaz chops all her hair off one day on an impulse. She panics about the decision almost immediately after, but Sammy assures her that she’s still beautiful, and that if she’s tired of dealing with long hair on a tropical island, it’s entirely her right. Plus, Sammy personally finds the choppy pixie cut very flattering, which Yaz is greatly relieved to hear.
~*~
“Try a- a little m- more uh, more… high-pitched,” Darius suggests.
Ben obliges, taking another breath before blowing into his cupped hands. A sharp chirping sound pierces the air, making the campers jump even though they’re expecting it.
“Yeah, that’s it!” Darius cheers, signing ‘nice job’ for good measure. “Spot-on raptor im- impress- sion, man.”
After finding out Ben had an uncanny talent for mimicking dinosaur calls, Darius- unsurprisingly- immediately found a good use for it. Namely, teaching him the raptor call for ‘help,’ which could come in handy if they ever encounter the solo raptor again. Or, if they ever need to team up with her against a larger enemy again.
(Darius isn’t foolish enough to think they could ever tame the raptor, like Ben did Bumpy, but she’s cooperated with them in the past and it’s always good to be prepared.)
“Dude, how do you do that?” Brooklynn asks in amazement. “I can’t even whistle.”
Ben grins, looking pleased with himself. “Looks like my seven years of oboe lessons finally paid off,” he says, puffing out his chest.
Kenji gasps. “Wait, wait, wait. Stop everything.” A massive grin spreads across his face, eyes sparkling like he’s a kid on Christmas morning. “You play the oboe?”
Ben deflates again. “And that’s why I haven’t brought it up,” he sighs.
~*~
A Baryonyx encounter ends with Kenji getting clawed across the face.
Running in to them from time to time is inevitable, really. The pair of carnivores are hard to keep track of, since they tend to wander instead of establishing any kind of home nest. And their smaller size (relatively speaking) gives them a stealth advantage that many other dinosaurs don’t have.
It happens during a trip to Lookout Point, where the campers are hoping to scavenge the solar panels that power the gondolas. Ben has recruited Bumpy for the mission, fastening a makeshift sled to her spines so she can carry the heavy panels- an easy feat now that she’s reached her adult size. But they don’t even make it halfway to the mountain before they’re ambushed.
Weapons and training aside, two Baryonyxes are still a challenge. Bumpy squares off with Limbo, while Chaos sets her sights on the campers. During the attack, Kenji narrowly avoids her jaws by ducking- which happens to put him directly in the path of her claws.
Kenji screams like the campers have never heard him scream before, and goes down clutching his blood-streaked face.
Without hesitation, Ben jumps in front of him, screaming at Chaos in defiance and lashing out with his spear to keep her at bay. Bumpy delivers a parting blow to Limbo and charges to Ben’s side, roaring and beating her tail on the ground. The other campers immediately rally around them, forming a protective wall around Kenji.
After Ben’s spear hits its mark, slicing a gash up the side of Chaos’s face, the Baryonyxes beat a grudging retreat. Sammy pulls Kenji onto the sled, Ben hops onto Bumpy’s back, and they all make a break back to camp.
It takes all four of them to hold Kenji down while Brooklynn does her best to clean and dress his wounds. He screams and thrashes until the pain becomes too much, and he falls unconscious. This turns out to be both a blessing and a curse; Brooklynn is able to work much more quickly, but Ben is nearly beside himself with panic.
The next couple of days are hell. Kenji drifts in and out of consciousness, burning up with a fever that’s likely the result of infection. When he’s awake, he’s in extreme pain and can barely bring himself to eat, no matter how the others beg him to. When he’s asleep, he’s plagued by nightmares and can’t seem to get comfortable, shifting restlessly and crying out in his sleep.
Even after his fever breaks, the recovery is hard. The bandages- scraps of scavenged fabric- cover half of Kenji’s face, restricting him to the camp. Eating is difficult, and cleaning the wounds every couple days is excruciating. He hates the way the others have to help him with everything, and feels more useless than ever before.
(Brooklynn knows the feeling, and lets Kenji vent to her whenever he needs to.)
Once the bandages have been off for a few weeks, it becomes apparent that Kenji’s wounds have healed as much as they’re ever going to. That leaves him with three large slash marks cutting across the right side of his face.
The topmost one skirts along the side of his nose and just underneath his eye, the puffy scar tissue leaving his lower eyelid raised in a partial squint. The middle one has disfigured both his ear and the corner of his mouth- a sizeable divot in his upper lip exposes a sliver of his teeth even when his mouth is closed. And the bottom one crosses from the edge of his jaw to his chin in a deep gouge.
It’s all superficial. He can see out of his right eye perfectly fine, and despite the outer appearance of his ear, his hearing is unaffected. He can still talk and eat normally. The pain is getting better by the day. It could’ve been so, so much worse.
This is what Kenji tells himself, every time he catches his reflection in the river or traces his fingers over the scars and feels like crying.
It doesn’t always help.
~*~
Kenji feels Ben staring at him.
He’s used to catching Ben staring at him. Well, not him, specifically. Ben just stares a lot, in general. It’s one of his quirks that they’ve all gotten familiar with. But all of a sudden it feels different, like touching an exposed nerve, and Kenji bristles.
“What do you want?” he snaps. Immediately, he regrets how harsh his voice came out.
But Ben has grown a lot from the shy boy who first arrived on the island, and he isn’t even fazed by Kenji’s tone. Brows furrowing, he pushes away from the wall and stalks up to Kenji, his eyes hard and determined. Without a word, he grabs Kenji by the front of his shirt and-
And then Ben’s kissing him.
In the time it takes for Kenji to process what’s happening, Ben’s already pulled away. He’s backed up a step- not too far- and is glancing off to the side, avoiding Kenji’s gaze. His face is flushed red and he’s fidgeting with his hands, an anxious gesture that Kenji rarely sees on him anymore.
Kenji blinks. “Um-”
“I like your scars,” Ben says in a rush. “I think they look cool. And uh, they mean you’re a survivor. So don’t… don’t be insecure about them, okay?”
Kenji’s hand comes up to his lips. “So… you kissed me,” he says slowly, “just because my scars look cool?”
Ben rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness, there. “No, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he confesses. “I guess… I let my old fears get the best of me. But when this happened…” His eyes dart along Kenji’s scars, his expression softening. “We could’ve lost you. So it just- it put things into perspective.”
“I see.” A smile tugs at Kenji’s mouth, warmth curling in his chest. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised someone eventually fell in love with me,” he drawls, putting on airs. “I’m really quite the catch.”
Ben huffs even as his blush darkens. “If you’re gonna be all smug about it, then forget it,” he sniffs, turning as if to leave.
“No, no, no,” Kenji says quickly, catching Ben by the hand. “No take-backs. You’re stuck with me now, wild man.”
Ben’s lips quirk up into a grin. “Alright, city boy,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up to Kenji’s shoulders.
“Woah, woah, woah, enough with the city boy already!” Kenji protests, indignant. “I’m older than you, and I’m definitely more man than boy. Have you seen my beard? And hey, aren’t you from Chicago?”
Ben gives him a dry look. “Are you gonna kiss me or not?”
Despite the sudden butterflies in Kenji’s stomach, he plays it cool. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He leans down slowly, intending to take his time, but Ben grows impatient and closes the gap for him.
Kenji’s kissed girls before, but that was nothing like this. Ben’s calloused hands are rough on Kenji’s neck as he pulls him down, pulls him closer. When he lacks in experience, he more than makes up for with enthusiasm, kissing Kenji recklessly, like this is a battle he’s determined to win. His scent is strong- sweat and mud and grass, undercut with the sharp sting of alcohol from the hand sanitizer he seems to possess in infinite quantities.
It’s so perfectly imperfect, so Ben, that Kenji’s heart feels like it’s going to burst.
The sound of footsteps makes them both jump. They break away from each other, but not quite before Darius and Brooklynn round the corner. Kenji is painfully aware how clear it is that they were just kissing, and he feels his face burn.
Once they recover from their surprise, Darius and Brooklynn break into matching, shit-eating grins.
“It’s about time, you two,” Brooklynn says, while Darius lets out a wolf-whistle, giving them his hand sign for ‘nice job.’
The embarrassment is enough to make Kenji wish he’d sink right through the floor. But Ben just lets out an easy laugh, dorky as ever, and interlaces his fingers with Kenji’s. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. Now could you give us some privacy? We were in the middle of something.”
The completely unabashed way he says it has Kenji hiding his face in his hand. “Oh my god, Ben,” he groans, borderline mortified and yet almost in awe of Ben’s confidence.
Darius and Brooklynn oblige, cackling like hyenas on their way out. Ben wastes no time pulling Kenji into another kiss.
~*~
Darius’s voice changes overnight, without any warning. It gives all the campers quite the surprise in the morning.
Ben goes through an embarrassing period of voice cracks before his finally drops. Though it’s not dramatically deeper than it was before, which he considers a total rip-off.
Kenji’s is more subtle, gradually deepening over time before settling. It isn’t lower than Darius’s, which Kenji thinks is insanely unfair, seeing as he’s the oldest guy, but the universe doesn’t seem to care (which is, to be fair, par for the course at this point).
~*~
“- see those two flyin’ together? I call ‘em Terry and Donna. And that one with the red markings is Red Bull- you know, Red Bull gives you wings?”
Sammy and Darius are watching a flock of Pteranodons fly by, weapons held at the ready in case they are noticed. But the dinosaurs are well above the treetops of the jungle and for the moment, everything is peaceful.
“You know, you- you really shouldn’t name them,” Darius says off-handedly, though his smile is amused. “Naming d- dangerous animals can provide a- a- a- false sense of- um, of- of familiarity, and make you less, uh… less…” He frowns, signing ‘help.’
“Careful?” Sammy suggests.
“Careful,” Darius agrees gratefully. “Less careful around them. It’s th- the same logic behind venomous snakes at zoos.”
Sammy looks thoughtful. “Guess that makes sense…” Then she points at the next one, face brightening. “Oh, this one’s Madonna- get it? Pteranodon, Madonna?”
Despite himself, Darius laughs. “Okay, that’s- that’s pretty good.”
~*~
Ben’s hearing starts to go.
It’s a subtle process- so subtle, in fact, that it takes a long time before anyone even realizes what’s happening. They discover it completely by accident, when Darius unintentionally sneaks up on Ben while his back is turned.
Darius only just manages to avoid the fist that comes swinging his way, yelping in alarm.
“Woah, Darius!” Ben draws up short, realization flashing in his eyes. His hands drop to his sides, all the aggression and tension in his body vanishing as quickly as it had come.
‘Sorry,’ Darius signs, catching his breath. ‘Are you okay?’
“Yeah, yeah,” Ben waves him off, apologetic. “You just startled me.”
Darius knits his brows together. If it were any other camper, he wouldn’t think anything of it. But Ben? Ben is notoriously hard to sneak up on, always hyperaware of his surroundings as a result of his time alone. And it’s not like Darius was even trying to be sneaky.
A knot forms in his stomach. “Is your, uh… your h- hearing okay?” he asks tentatively.
Ben blinks in surprise. “What? Yeah, it’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Darius shrugs and lets the matter drop for the time being. But he’s not fully convinced, and starts keeping a closer eye on Ben. And as he does, he has some… worrying revelations.
It’s not uncommon for them to have to call Ben’s name a few times before he takes notice, if he’s a little way’s off from the rest of them. Before, Darius assumed it was just because Ben had a tendency to let his mind wander. But now, he’s not sure. And as he’s looking closer, he’s starting to see patterns.
Ben always answers straight away if he happens to be looking at the person talking, or standing close by. He’s less likely to hear them if there’s other noise going on in the background, like the running river water. And whenever they’re out on the island, and there’s some faint sound in the distance that makes them all tense, Ben doesn’t react until he sees the rest of them.
As much as Darius doesn’t want it to be true, he can’t deny the facts. And the longer they wait to address it, the more danger Ben is in. He brings it up to Ben in private, already knowing it won’t be an easy conversation.
“So,” he starts, “I uh, I’ve noticed some… uh, some things.”
Ben quirks a brow. “Things?”
Darius nods. “I- I think… I think, um, that you’re h- hard of- of hearing.”
“Darius, that doesn’t make sense.” Ben’s voice is tight, the way it gets whenever he’s trying to reign in his emotions. “I can hear you perfectly fine right now.”
“It’s n- not always all or- or nothing,” Darius explains gently, despite his rising dread. “D- does your family h- have any… a- any, uh… any history o- of hearing loss?”
Ben bites his lip, clearing debating with himself. “My uncle had to get a hearing aid when he was in his thirties,” he admits, glancing away. “My mom said there was a chance it was hereditary. But it’s not supposed to happen until later in life. For it to start so early, I- I don’t think…”
Darius’s uneasy feeling grows. The various roars from different dinosaurs can measure well above 100 decibels, which is hazardous to human ears. Not to mention the occasional explosions they’ve witnessed, often set off by Ben himself.
All of them have been exposed to loud sounds and been completely fine afterwards. But for someone with a genetic predisposition to hearing loss…
“Being on th- this island… has caused it to accelerate,” Darius says grimly.
There’s a split-second where Darius can see the fear plainly in Ben’s eyes. And then he shrugs, quickly turning away. “So what? Dinosaurs aren’t exactly quiet, I’ll be fine.”
But they both know that’s not true. Sure, the large carnivores on this island often announce themselves with a roar, but not always. They can be stealthy when they want to be. And all it takes is one time for Ben not to hear it coming, just one time for it to be fatal.
Darius takes a breath. “Look, I- I know this is h- hard, but-”
“But what?” Ben snaps, whirling back around with bared teeth and raised hackles. “I’m fine, I’m perfectly fine! I can take care of myself, I-” His voice breaks, and all the anger falls away, leaving him pale with fear. “I’m fine, I… I’m fine. I have to be.”
Darius puts a hand on his shoulder, sympathetic. “You’re… you’re gonna be o- okay, Ben,” he tells him softly. “We’re n- not going to let anything, um, a- anything… happen to you.”
Ben’s already shaking his head. “You can’t promise that,” he says, his voice wavering. “And- and if I can’t take care of myself, then I’m good as dead.”
Before Darius has a chance to respond, Ben’s gone.
~*~
Later that evening, Kenji finds Ben on the roof.
He’s sitting against the railing, angled so he can see anyone coming up the stairs while still keeping an eye out on the horizon, the dark blue sky bleeding into purple as the sun sinks low over the jungle. His gaze flicks over to Kenji briefly before he turns away again.
Kenji lingers by the stairwell, hesitating. He really doesn’t know how to handle… this. But when Darius explained how upset Ben got, Kenji knew he couldn’t just let him be alone. No one should deal with this kind of thing alone, not even a totally-capable semi-feral jungle man.
He must hesitate too long, because Ben sighs. “I take it you’ve all heard the news?” he asks dryly.
“Yeah, um…” Kenji swallows. “Ben, listen-”
“Listen?” Ben lets out a sharp laugh. “You might be out of luck, because apparently, I’m no good at that.”
“Hey, no.” Frowning, Kenji approaches Ben, sinking to the floor next to him. “Ben, losing your hearing isn’t a personal failure, it’s something beyond your- or anyone else’s- control.”
Bristling, Ben glances away, lips curled into a scowl. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Hey,” Kenji murmurs, putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Don’t shut me out.”
Ben winces. “I’m sorry,” he relents, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. “I just… for the first time in my life, I’m finally strong enough to take care of myself. I don’t want to lose that.”
Kenji’s brows crease. “Okay, that makes sense,” he says, “but accepting help from your friends doesn’t mean you have to lose your independence.”
“Doesn’t it?” Ben asks helplessly. “Darius thinks I shouldn’t go anywhere alone, in case a dinosaur sneaks up on me.”
Kenji makes a noncommittal noise. “… I mean, to be fair, none of us should really go off on our own,” he says, spreading his hands. “The island is too dangerous for that.”
Disappointment flashes across Ben’s face. “You don’t get it.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” Kenji agrees, tilting his head. “Why is control such a thing with you? I can’t understand if you don’t tell me.”
Ben’s quiet for a moment. “It’s… the way my parents raised me,” he says finally, his voice tight.
“Ah.” Kenji blinks. “You… don’t talk about them much,” he says carefully.
Ben smiles without humor. “Yeah. I care about them, but they’re more like… super involved social workers instead of parents. Ever since I was little, they’ve managed every aspect of my life, every second of the day. How I dress, what I eat, the activities I do, who I hang out with…” He hugs his knees to his chest. “But it was my fault, too. I mean, you remember what I used to be like. It wasn’t like I had a lot of strong opinions of my own- unless it had to do with germs.”
Even if there’s some truth to his words, Kenji feels a pang of sympathy. “Still, though. That’s gotta be tough. I can’t imagine my dad being that involved in my life.”
Ben gives him a sidelong look, pursing his lips. “That’s sad for different reasons.”
“Sure, but we’re talking about you right now,” Kenji says deftly. “So, you had overcontrolling parents. And now that you’ve experienced freedom, the thought of not being completely, 100% independent and in control at all times over your life…”
“It’s scary,” Ben finishes, his voice small. “It feels like I’m that same helpless kid I used to be. And I can’t be him, because he wouldn’t make it out here.”
Kenji’s heart tightens. They’ve all struggled and suffered plenty since being stranded on the island. But sometimes, their worst demons are the ones that came here with them. Kenji knows the feeling well, considering how much he’s still affected by his strained relationship with his father. And it hurts to see Ben, the person who’s found so much strength and confidence, doubt himself now.
“Maybe not on his own,” Kenji amends, putting his arm around Ben’s shoulders. “But you’re not alone. And you’ve grown so much since I’ve known you, I- I don’t think you could ever go back to being helpless.”
Ben peeks up at him. “You… really think so?”
“Of course!” Kenji assures him. “Need I remind you who defeated Toro?”
Ben lets out a faint laugh at that, gazing at Kenji with equal amounts of fondness and wonder. “Thanks, Kenji,” he says softly, leaning in to kiss him on his scarred cheek.
Kenji hums and settles further into the embrace, Ben resting his head on Kenji’s shoulder as they watch the sunset together.
~*~
The official decision comes a bit later; no one is to go anywhere alone. When venturing out beyond the camp, each of them are to utilize the buddy system, as determined by Darius.
Kenji is paired with Yaz, on account of him being the only camper who could feasibly carry her if her ankle were to give out.
Brooklynn and Ben are paired together because they fill the gaps in each other’s senses exceptionally well; Ben’s eyesight is the sharpest of the group, and Brooklynn’s excellent hearing has become even more heightened since the loss of her eye.
That leaves Darius with Sammy, who he feels has the best chance of picking up his train of thought in the event of a mental stalling, since she understands more about animal behavior than the others.
Though they all accept this reasoning as solid, Sammy can’t help but pout- however playfully- at not being paired with Yaz. Darius then explains that he deliberately separated the couples in order to eliminate the temptation to become… distracted, and thus, letting their guard down.
Sammy blushes at this and concedes the point, though she notices that Darius has also avoided pairing himself with Brooklynn. A coincidence? Maybe.
But privately, she wonders if the same reasoning applies.
~*~
The campers experience their first real tropical storm on the island.
They’ve seen storms before, but nothing like this, where the rain is blowing sideways and the wind can fell trees. It rolls in fast and without warning, leading to a mad dash for the underground tunnels. They wait in the dark for hours and hours until they can no longer feel the ground shake from thunder, and warily, emerge blinking into the daylight.
It's a rude awakening. The whole island looks like a disaster zone, but their camp was hit especially hard. Flooding from the river has turned the site into a temporary mud pit, and their structure is in shambles. Normally, the sight would be enough to drive anyone to tears- all their hard work, wasted. But they’re rattled and exhausted and losing daylight, and crying won’t fix anything.
Wordlessly, they all start to rebuild.
~*~
A scavenging trip through the main park has brought the campers to the Lagoon. Unpleasant memories fresh in mind, they keep a wide berth around the Mosasaurus exhibit- up until Brooklynn realizes she can hear waves, much closer than they ought to be.
Brooklynn catches Ben by the arm, to get his attention before she speaks. “Hey, uh… does the gate look open to you?”
She’s squinting out at the enclosure, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun. Frowning, Ben follows her gaze. The far side must be at least a football field’s length away, and the glare on the water’s surface makes it hard to see. He gets as close to the edge as he dares, staring intently.
The other campers have taken notice of the situation, and wait with bated breath.
“… yeah, it does,” Ben confirms, nonplussed.
“Shit,” Kenji swears, his eyes widening.
Yaz rakes her hands though her hair. “Now how could that have happened?” she frets, her voice strained.
“I don’t know.” Sammy’s shaking her head, looking frightened. “But if the tank’s open, then that means…”
“Oh god,” Brooklynn breathes. “That means the Mosasaurus is out there, loose in the world-”
“Hey, h- hey, relax,” Darius says quickly, holding his hands up. “The Mosasaurus likes to, um, t- to- uh, to hunt in open water. It’ll pr- probably spend the rest of its days way out in the deep ocean, eating w- wh- whales and uh, and sharks a- and giant squid. There’s n- no- no reason for it to go near the um, you know, the- the ah, the shore.”
The relief that breaks across his friend’s faces is worth the uncertainty lingering in the back of Darius’s mind. He hopes he’s right, in any case, but there’s nothing they can do about it and it doesn’t really affect them, anyways. Besides, if the six of them can handle an island full of dinosaurs, the rest of the world should be able to deal with one.
“Happy trails, old friend,” Ben calls out to the empty tank, giving a two-fingered salute with a wry smile.
~*~
“Do you think we should have a plan in place, for if the volcano erupts?” Brooklynn asks one day.
Darius could explain that he finds that event unlikely, considering the volcano must have been thoroughly analyzed before the island was deemed safe enough to build two theme parks. But it wouldn’t hurt to consider the possibility, and it’s always a good thing to exercise his problem-solving skills, so he just nods.
Putting their heads together, the campers decide on the underground tunnels as their best chance of survival. They’re large enough for Bumpy (who Ben insisted on being part of their plan) and mostly sealed off from the surface, protecting them from toxic gasses, ash, and lava alike. And, considering the size, running out of oxygen isn’t likely.
Of course, none of them know how long it takes for a volcanic eruption to clear up. As a precaution, they start storing clean water in the tunnels, and a few extra supplies they have no immediate need for. The food will have to be brought down with them, since nothing they have can keep for very long.
Even though the possibility of an eruption is low, it’s hard to brush it off completely. Having a plan in place helps them feel a little more secure, but realistically, they can’t be sure it would work.
They’ll just have to hope the volcano remains dormant.
~*~
It’s a beautiful night.
There isn’t a single cloud in the sky to obscure the dazzling patchwork of stars above them, twinkling in a pitch-black abyss. The full moon hangs over them like a solitary eye, casting its gentle glow over the canopy of the jungle. A lullaby of rustling leaves fills the air, trees swaying in the warm breeze.
Normally, all but one of the campers would already be asleep by now, to catch what rest they can before it’s their turn for night watch. But by some unspoken consensus, they’ve all agreed it was too good of a night to waste. Huddled up on their roof, they sit together under the stars and take a rare moment to appreciate the beauty of their world; six small souls in the face of eternity.
Brooklynn’s quiet voice breaks the silence. “How long do you think it’s been?” she asks.
No one has to ask what she means.
The passage of time has gradually lost its meaning to the campers. They’d stopped keeping track of days after the walls of the camp filled up with tally marks. All they really need to know is how many hours of daylight they have left at any given moment, and they can easily glean that from the sun’s position in the sky, so timekeeping isn’t a huge concern of theirs.
“Definitely a couple years now, at least,” Kenji says decisively. “I mean, a beard like this doesn’t just happen overnight.”
Ben, who’s leaning against Kenji’s side, rolls his eyes fondly. “Right, ‘cause that’s how all the great ancient civilizations kept track of time; facial hair growth in prepubescent males.”
Kenji lets out an offended squawk, but Sammy swiftly intervenes before a full-fledged argument can break out. “We’ve all changed a lot,” she amends, carding a hand through Yaz’s short hair. “It’s… kinda strange to think about, how much things must’ve changed back home, too.”
“Yeah,” Yaz murmurs, eyes tracing her ankle brace as her hand rests on Sammy’s knee. “Makes me wonder if I’d even fit in anymore. If… any of us would feel right, if we went back to our old lives.”
“I know I wouldn’t,” Brooklynn declares, her expression scrunched up in distaste. Then she sobers. “But at the same time, it’s like… if we never make it home, then what was all of this for? Was it even worth it?”
The rest of the campers fall silent, considering the question.
Darius knits his brows together, thoughtful.
This life is hard. It’s a struggle just to make it through the day, to secure food and water and shelter, things they’d always taken for granted. Exhaustion is a constant companion, going hand-in-hand with terror. There are few moments of true peace, some new threat always lurking right around the corner, and none of them remain unscathed.
Some scars are small and superficial, received from the shallow gashes and scrapes that their rough lifestyle hands out on the daily. Like tally marks, they pepper the campers’ arms and legs, obtained without notice or care. Yet they remain an undeniable testament to everything the campers have overcome.
Some scars are large and visible, serving as grim reminders of the danger that will always follow them. Like Kenji’s maimed face or Brooklynn’s cloudy eye, Sammy’s three puncture marks from the Scorpius quills that only Yaz ever gets to see. They represent the close calls and what-ifs, and fuel the campers’ drive to be faster, stronger, better.
Some scars are more functionally detrimental, a permanent loss that can never be healed. Like Yaz’s weak ankle or Ben’s fading hearing, Darius’s fractured mind and unsteady hands. Parts of the self they can never get back, and instead must learn to live without.
And some scars are emotional instead of physical, left by the stress and trauma of everything they’ve been through. Like knee-jerk flinches and silent tears, night terrors that strike at random and breakdowns that build like a rolling storm. They have all been changed psychologically, fundamentally- and in many ways, for the worse.
But as Darius looks over his team, his herd, his family, he allows himself to feel a rare, fleeting moment of pride.
They are a group of teenagers who were left for dead- not once, not twice, but three times- and have survived anyways. They are grit and dedication in souvenir T-shirts and tree bark armor, carving a life for themselves on an island of giants until their fingers are raw and bleeding. They are loyalty and trust and steadfast love, pulling each other from the brink of death and oblivion time and time again.
They are endlessly evolving, as each new challenge inspires an inner strength they didn’t know they had to take form.
Part of Darius still hopes that someone will come for them, someday. That he could fulfil his promise and look at this experience safely from the other side. That all their struggles and hardship could have meaning beyond survival, that they could add something to the world with the knowledge they’ve gained and the lessons they’ve learned.
But even if that moment never comes, and they spend the rest of their days on this island, he knows it’s still a life worth living.
“We’re enough,” Darius says, his smile illuminated by the moonlight.
(And because it’s night, none of them see the distant smoke rising out of the volcano behind him.)
~*~
#jurassic world camp cretaceous#camp cretaceous#jwcc#darius x brooklynn#kenji x ben#yasmina x sammy#my writing
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweet Survivor Ch.1
Wet.
Something wet was on his cheek.
Oh gosh, everything hurt! His lower back felt like someone had poked it with a corkscrew.
He flexed his toes and could feel his shoes stretch a bit over them. At least he had that going for him.
He heard a grunt and opened his eyes, seeing a blurry shape. One asymmetrical.
“Bumpy?” He rasped.
He blinked and gasped.
She was much bigger!
Bumpy had to be at least four feet tall, with ridges on her back and a longer tail. She shuffled her feet excitedly as he smiled in relief at seeing his friend.
She grunted and nuzzled his shoulder, almost crooning.
“I’m okay…” He said, trying to sit up and wincing. “Scratch that. My tailbone is not…”
She turned and laid her tail next to him and he reached out to touch it, noting the heavy club it now sported. She gently lifted it, then lowered it again. She did it a few times and grunted, and he suddenly understood what she wanted.
He grabbed it and hissed as he was pulled up to his feet, body trembling with pain and fatigue.
“Thanks girl. Man, I could really go for some…” He patted his waist and gasped. “My pack! My…”
He looked up and saw the monorail, silent and empty. He gasped as he remembered what had happened, Darius clinging to his hand as Brooklynn and Kenji stood frozen with shock behind him. The fear gripped him again and he started to hyperventilate.
“They left me.” He said softly.
Bumpy barked, as if trying to tell him something.
He looked at her and she walked in a circle, barking again.
“Th-they probably went for help.” He said, trying to push down his anger and despair. “Darius would never leave one of us behind—”
He heard a faint roar in the distance.
“The T-Rex.” He whispered and Bumpy nudged him, knocking him halfway on her shell, her small spikes still round enough for him to lay on top of as she walked off, following the monorail.
“What? Where are you…”He moaned as his eye lids felt heavy again.
Ben groaned after a few feet, and she laid down, nudging him until he fully laid on top of her, clutching her shell as he tried desperately not to pass out, failing.
*
When he woke up, they were on a concrete path.
“Bumpy? Where are you taking us, Girl?” He asked.
He saw a building coming up and smiled, laughing excitedly.
“The hotel?!”
Bumpy grunted and walked up the wheelchair ramp.
Ben got down and pushed at the automatic door, groaning when it wouldn’t budge. He tried to pry them open, arms shaking with strain.
Bumpy suddenly swung her tail and shattered a bottom panel of the thick plastic, causing him to shout. Ben chuckled and crawled through the new entrance, unlocking a swinging door for his friend to squeeze in and follow him.
He found an abandoned umbrella, long and missing a few spokes, and used it as a walking stick to get to the front desk, finding the security office behind it. Finding a key next to the computer, he opened the door to see all the cameras still operational.
“Maybe this place has a generator or something.” He said, and spied a sink in the corner, grabbing his dry throat.
He limped to it and turned it on, not caring when he leaned over and drank from the tap. It had that flat iron like taste, but other wise was clean. He gasped after drinking his fill.
“Plumbing…works…” He panted and went to look at the cameras.
They viewed the hallways, the daycare, the spa and fitness center, even the pool. All were empty with the windows covered.
He laughed happily. “No dinos. Not even a compy squeezed in!”
He turned to the open door and grinned at Bumpy. “It’s all our til the others come back!”
He found a map of the hotel.
“What would Darius do?” He asked, going back outside to the front desk and seeing a button that said; “Emergency only.”
He pressed it, and metal shutters fell over the front windows and door. Bumpy screeched in alarm and he pet her head, making her groan and stomp her foot.
“It’s okay girl.” He said and looked at a switch board for the lights, shivering when he remembered the monorail. He took a deep breath. He needed to secure the area.
“We got some work to do.” He said, grabbing a universal key card and a ring of keys, limping towards the kitchen.
*
They had found some fruit that had yet to go bad and several crates of water, all he moved to the front of the dining area so he could get to it easier if his hips kept bothering him.
He then used a few backpacks from the gift shop to load up all the snacks at the register along with more water and a few changes of clothes down to underwear and new shoes. Bumpy didn’t seem bothered when he loaded them on her back for her to take back to where they would camp out.
He picked a large room on the ground floor and propped the double doors open so Bumpy could go in and out. He shut all the windows and curtains on the first three floors, quieting anything that would draw attention, making sure to unplug TVs, alarms and radios except for in his room. Going as far as to turn off the automatic indoor and outdoor lights and signposts from the security desk, masking the hotel in darkness.
After hours of shutting down as much as the hotel as he could, his body gave out and he collapsed on the bed. He still had eight floors to go!
His hips were screaming in pain and he took a generic pain killer with his dinner of fresh fruit, bread from the buffet area and beef jerky. He promised himself he would search the kitchen again before things went bad.
He took a deep breath after and nearly gagged at his own body odor.
He panted and got up, going to the bathroom and gasping at what he saw in the mirror.
His eyes looked sunken in, bruises all over his arms and legs. He saw his shirt torn in the back, lifting it to see the claw marks where the Pteranodon had grabbed him, deep purple bruising all over his side and his hip where he had landed.
He took a shuttering breath and hiccupped before the tears started and he couldn’t hold back his sobs.
He could have died.
He could have actually died and never seen his mom again.
He sat on the toilet lid and took gasping breaths and rubbed his arms to try and calm himself before turning on the shower and undressing to clean his wounds.
Finding a first aid kit, he sobbed more as he cleaned his wounds, trying to take deep breaths to clam his panic. Bumpy laid down outside the bathroom door, as if keeping watch.
He smiled softly and got in the shower, humming as the hot water hit his body. He looked over the mini shampoos and conditioners on a recessed shelf in the stone tile wall. He grabbed a rag and lathered up the soap, planning to scrub away the grime and blood and soak.
*
He woke up in the still warm bath, the eucalyptus scent from the essential oils he found a little weaker. He groaned and got up, happy that the sharp pain in his hips had dulled to a manageable throb.
He dried his hair and wrapped himself in the white robe with the T-Rex emblem on the left side of his chest.
Bumpy groaned softly as he laid himself more gingerly on the bed, hugging a pillow and remembering for a moment ‘How is your grip this strong?!’
He smiled to himself, remembering the scent of the campfire, Darius groaning, Brooklynn and Sammy looking over her pictures and Yaz standing in the back next to the railing. His hands locked on Kenji’s bicep as he pulled hard, a surprised look on his face.
He always gravitated to Kenji.
Of course he did.
Kenji was strong.
Kenji was brave.
Kenji was confident.
And he was none of those things.
But there was something he noticed he and Kenji had in common.
Kenji was lonely.
And every time he clung to him, Kenji would push once and then allow him to stay. As if he wanted him to stay. Ben blushed and hugged the pillow tighter, squeezing his eyes shut.
He hoped he was okay. He hoped they all were.
#jurassic world camp cretaceous#ben pincus#jw bumpy#darius bowman#kenji kon#sammy gutierrez#yaz fadoula#jw brooklynn#camp cretaceous#jwcc#jw fanfic#jw benji#camp cretaceous fanfic#camp cretaceous sweet survivor
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
My spooky gift exchange to @nightneko!!
Content warning: Blood, decapitation, character death, trauma
Leonardo was running. He was running but it wasn’t enough. The rain pounded all around him like the song of his own demise, the stone under his feet growing slick and the purchase hard to find, but that didn’t matter. As he long he kept going forward, that didn’t matter. The momentum was needed, and he couldn’t slow. Not for a second. The moment he slowed, he knew he would get caught.
It had all started out so innocently. He had been practicing his portals after a bout of insomnia seized him in the night like the claws of a great raptor in flight, and he had to do something to pass the time. Sleep didn’t come after an hour, or two, or three. On the fourth hour came resentful training up on the rooftops of his city, so beautiful and bright when compared to the suffocating fog and black sky of this doppelgänger world He found himself in.
Time after time, he had traced a circle in the air and step into it. Time after time he thought of the places he wanted to go— from the Bronx to Brooklynn to Queens... to Tony’s Pepperoni’s and Murakami’s Place; the blind salesman would always leave out leftovers for the Yoru ni kuru hito, the ones who came in the night, who he couldn’t see but knew where there and would make sure he got home safely. Then Leo had gotten reckless. He started testing his speed. How fast he could teleport. How fast he could think of new places to go. Testing the limits of his weapon, fueled by a cocky sense of invincibility that most teenagers had. Hueso had warned him of such things as portal jackings and the horrors they could hold for the one attacked. How, the more times you teleported, the stronger the signal you sent out, like a beacon to your coordinates. How it made it so easy for them to find you.
When Leo had finally decided to go home, he had such a clear image of the lair in his mind. Bright and colorful, the walls covered by Mikey’s increasingly impressive graffiti, some of the older examples drawn over by Donatello’s equations whenever he’d have a breakthrough without paper handy. Numbers and symbols traced over colorful pictures of old, worn from the years but still carrying so many memories in the peeling paint. Leonardo imagined everything down to the last detail; every last crack left by Raphael by accident or on purpose. The groove worn into splinters chair by years of repeated use. The kitchen filled with leftover pizza, the snore of three sleeping turtles and an old rat echoing down the halls. But there was none of that when he stepped through the rift and landed on the other side.
Instead of the warm invitation he had expected, the air was cold and lifeless. The walls were gray and the floor stone, with no mat or rug to block the barrier of frigid ground. Instead of comforting light, there was dim gray, and his breath came out in heavy plumes of fog. There was no gentle snores— no sound at all, in fact, apart from the distant sounds of running water. The air didn’t smell of breakfast, but of rot and decay. It smelled like death.
“Wha... guys?”
His voice echoed in a haunted melody that returned to him from all directions.
“This is a surprise.”
Leonardo jumped and spun around to face the figure approaching him, not quite at tall as Leonardo, but regardless was walking in such a way that made him feel small. Hands folded behind his back, a peculiarly designed white lab coat draped over his bulked form, and a mouth frowning. A mutant. A turtle. With a purple bandana.
“Who are you...?” Leonardo had asked once his body allowed him too. The other was so familiar to him, yet somehow... monstrous. Maybe in the way he didn’t smile— nothing like when the Donatello back home rarely ever offered the gesture. When Donnie did that, it was just Donnie being Donnie. But this frown seemed almost sinister, somehow.
The other mutant only hummed. On his three-fingered hands were red gloves— no, they were white. They must have been, at least, under the layer of glowing crimson that coated them top to bottom in a A viscous layer. It was then Leonardo noticed that the pattern on the lab coat wasn’t just a pattern— it wasn’t a pattern at all— it was blood.
When Leonardo’s eyes began to adjust to the dark of the sewer tunnel, more patterns and items came to his view. Strewn up on the walls and on showcase in dim, glass cases— in jars, fermenting in some kind of liquid, and on the floor and even some hanging from the ceiling. Body parts. Mutant body parts. Fur and scales and skin— organs and bones and... shells. Three of them. Hollow and empty of the lives stripped from within them, adorned with ribbons and weapons. The pelt of a mutant tiger laid on the floor, mouth opened in an eternal cry of agony. A rat— an old, mutant rat— was stuffed and positioned in such a pose it were as if he were alive; mediating in an eternal slumber. Leonardo had almost called out to him until he saw the stitches. The stiff and limp tail, the unmoving body. And that’s when Leo ran.
He splashed blindly through the waste-infused water, charging through the blackness parted only by the odd storm drain offering lamplight from above. Quite often he’d stopped to catch his breath and to try and listen through his heaving and the pound of rain from the surface. Every time he did stop, he was faced with the heart wrenching sound of the second set of foot steps getting closer. Closer. Closer.
The five minutes it took him to find the nearest manhole felt like five hours, and the time it took him to scale the ladder and escape through it felt like even longer. Longer for the blood-splattered mutant to catch up. The first thing he has done once he crawled out into a trash-strewn alley was to find the nearest fire escape— if he could just get away long enough to stop for a moment, long enough to think, maybe a plan could be found in the chaos. There was always an escape. There was always an escape. There was always...
Three buildings crossed and Leo looked back. Three building down he saw the sick, perverted Donatello standing there silhouetted in the light of the street, bō staff in hand. Grinning at him. Leonardo ran on.
Seven buildings crossed and he turned to look back. The monster was even closer now and Leonardo could make out the features more clearly. He could see the other turtles eyes. He didn’t know what to expect when he gazed into them. The red, glowing eyes of a monster, perhaps? Eyes void of any sanity or sense? Maybe! But no. They were just eyes. Just normal eyes. Bronze, gleaming with life. Leonardo ran on.
Ten buildings down. Thirteen. Fourteen. Leonardo couldn’t run anymore. His legs gave way and he crashed to the ground, yet still his pursuer kept on going. His pace did slow when he saw the other mutant collapsed there on the building, but he didn’t stop. Leonardo tried to crawl. If he could just get into the sewers again, or the streets, if he could just disappear!
It was too late.
“Wow.” The donatello—no, Leo couldn’t bare to think of him like that— the mutant stood over him with a partial smile. He wasn’t panting, hardly even breathing. It was like he wasn’t even alive, and with the appearance of him it was easy to believe. “Y’know, I would’ve expected you to put up some sort of fight. My Leo sure did.”
Fight— fight! Leonardo reached behind his shell. The Mutant clicked his tongue and laughed, shifting his body to show off the gleaming sword supported on his back.
“Probably shouldn’t have dropped this either; just, in hindsight, you know.”
“What— please—“ Leonardo couldn’t get full sentences out; breathing was far more important.
“I know, I know.” The mutant laughed and waved his hand, “but hey— it’s all in the name of science, huh? I’ve never worked with a Trachemys scripta elegans, so you're something entirely new to me!”
He pulled out a needle filled to the brim with hot pink fluid.
“And here’s something new to you!”
Leonardo crawled to the ledge and tried to escape over it, only to be met with a sharp kick to the middle of his carapace that pinned him to the stone.
“This is just a little something to make you sleep...”
“DONATELLO!”
The voice sliced through the night like a knife. A woman’s voice. The Mutant’s force on Leonardo’s shell lifted, and when Leonardo turned to look, the turtles back was turned to him, staring at a girl. A girl with ginger hair and a pale face speckled with brown freckles.
“April!” The abomination gave a grin.
April? This girl was April?
“Donnie this has to stop.”
Leonardo could escape now if he wanted to. Sure, his legs were still numbly sore, his chest still heaving, but there was some sort of energy returning to him. He couldn’t just leave April though...
“Come on April, you know I have to.” The Mutant walked toward April with gentle demeanor that betrayed the darkness inside him. “Sacrifices have to be made in the name of science!”
“How many is it going to take, Donnie?” Tears flowed freely through April’s eyes like water spickets. “Leo, Raph, Mikey, Splinter... am I next?”
“I would never hurt you, April.”
His sword— if Leo could just grab his sword he could save himself and the April! He could grab the sword and he could...
No. He could never go through with it. Not with that monster looking like it did. Not with him looking like Donnie. But if Leo could just chase him off...
“Splinter didn’t didn’t even fight back, did he?” April went on. “He didn’t even try to stop you!”
The mutant shrugged. “He could never hurt his son.”
“You’re a monster...”
Leonardo pushed himself slowly to his feet and crept forward. His hand out in front of him, ready to grab for his swords hilt, just praying this April kept the Mutant distracted long enough.
“I’m not.” The Mutant shook his head, “I’m a scientist.”
Leonardo bit his tongue in his focus with enough force to draw forth the metallic taste of blood. Just a little closer...
Then his wrist was seized when the other turtle spun around with lightning speed, gripping him tight and hoisting him up like a ragdoll. The Mutant fixed Leonardo with an amused stare. “And I’m also a ninja.”
Leonardo tried to struggle away. “Please— please just let me go!” He had no shame, he had nothing to lose but his life, “Just let me leave! I wanna get back to Donnie and Raph and Mikey!” His cheeks were stained hot with tears, and his chest felt as if it were being constricted by a python. “I WANT MY DAAAAD!”
The Mutant stopped. Leonardo gave a soft whimper as he was dropped violently and landed with a hard THUMP. He wiped his eyes to try getting a better read of the other turtle. To look in his eyes and try to decipher what thoughts were hidden behind the dark pools.
Then the Mutant laughed. The turtle dressed in purple laughed. A laugh that made his eyes close and called forth a few snorts between breaths. It was wrong— it was all wrong. A laugh should be gentle and lighthearted, drawn forth by a genuine joy. A noise meant to make your heart flutter a bit, especially when it was you who called that heavenly sound to release. But not this noise. This noise was a sinister one, a cold pleasure that made the surrounding air drop at least a few degrees. A monster like that didn’t deserve to laugh.
“You should see the look on your face!” He howled the evil tune of Leonardo’s demise. Then, all at once, the laughter stopped.
Leonardo’s ears rang. Though it took his mind several moments to process what had just happened, his body registered everything at once. A warm wetness all over him and the rooftop around him. The sound of a blade had come first of course— unmistakable to the swordsman— flashing through the air and slicing flesh. Slicing bone. And it was that which expelled the red fluid off in all directions. Then there was a thump. One loud, powerful thump that set Leonardo’s heart to continue the pattern and beat in his chest far too fast, far too hard. Surely it would jump out at any moment and leave him there, bleeding out with a gaping hole in his chest.
Then sound exploded back into his ears. The taste of iron flooded his senses, drowning out everything else. He touched his hand to his face and when he withdrew it, green had turned to an oozing red. The teenage girl stood there behind the headless corpse, holding Leonardo’s sword in shaking hands, just as bloody as Leonardo was. Her bosom heaved. Her breaths came out in soft whimpers, and her arms soon gave way and let the sword clammed to the ground. In the next moment she was gone, down the fire escape and leaving Leo there with the body.
He didn’t know how long he sat there waiting for his legs to regain strength, but by the time he was able to move, the blood had already begun to dry on his skin and flake off in a brownish powder. He picked up his sword and his numb arm guided the blade to make a portal. He gave a chuckle. Almost perfect.
He just about stepped through it before he remembered he was only holding one sword. He turned back to the dead mutant, a slight blood still oozing from the severed neck. Pillaging it’s body like a vulture made Leonardo sick, and he had to make a dash for the ledge of the building to hurl over it. He had his sword though. He could go... home?
Home. Warm and bright. By now it would be filled with the bustle of his family getting ready for the day. The whistle of Splinter’s morning tea... Mikey making breakfast. The sound and scent of sizzling bacon became so alluring it was almost real— and then it was. When Leonardo opened his eyes after stepping through the portal, Splinter sat at the head of the table, sipping his tea as he clasped it between two paws. Raphael and Donatello were bickering about something or other, and it was like the sweetest music. Leonardo looked down at himself and he was as clean as he was when it left— somehow the blood had left him, even though he swore he could still feel it slipping across him. A nightmarish sensation. Mikey, bright-eyed and yet to reapply his shell paint, turned to Leo with a smile and offered a plate of eggs and bacon and toast.
“Hi Leo!” He grinned. “You’re late for breakfast, mister! Here— eat.”
Leonardo smiled and almost broke into a sob as he accepted the plate. “Thank you, hermano...”
His eyes flashed to Donatello. The words that fell from the softshells lips were silent upon Leonardo’s ringing ears. When he blinked, all he saw was the blade slicing down— slicing him.
Suddenly, Leonardo wasn’t so hungry.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#donatello#donnie#leo#leonardo#tmnt au#tmnt spooky gift exchange
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
Barefoot and Pregnant
Sawyer x MC (Morgan)
Author’s Note: Writing for a new book! Let me know if you want to be on my Big Sky Country tag list in case I write more.
Word Count: 1800
Sawyer loves it when Morgan is pregnant. He’s not sure exactly what it is, but the sight of her, with belly full of baby, rounded out hips, fuller breasts, it just does something to him.
They’ve been married a little under ten years now, and she’s currently pregnant with baby number five. A boy, to join his four older brothers.
They married young. He was 25, and she was 23. They both wanted Cliff to be around for the wedding, otherwise they might have waited. (But deep down, Sawyer had known that he would marry Morgan from the moment he came upon her in that broken down car. He thanks God for bringing her to him every day.)
The wedding was beautiful. They did the ceremony in the renovated barn, had the reception outside on a beautiful Montana night with fairy lights twinkling. It was like something out of a fairy tale. And he’d never seen his dad so happy. For just that night, it was easy to forget how sick he was.
But a month later Cliff passed. That was hard. The house felt so empty without his father’s big presence. Duke and Brooklynne moved out after the funeral, headed back to the city. Sawyer hated the new lifeless feel to the house.
It was a month later that they found out Morgan was pregnant. It was just the change they needed. Life and laughter brought back into the house. Sawyer loved rubbing her belly, massaging her swollen feet after a day of farm chores, playing country music on his iPod and placing the headphones over Morgan’s growing belly. As beautiful as she always looked to him, pregnant she was like a glowing goddess. He didn’t even mind that once she was heavily pregnant, he had no one to help with all the chores.
They named their first son Cliff Joseph, after both his grandfathers.
Now that their boys are 8, 6, 4, and 2, all but the youngest, help around the farm. The extra hands are nice, and it enables the farm to grow. They do pumpkin season now, with hayride tours, a petting zoo, and a hedge maze. The farm is more profitable than ever before, and Sawyer likes to think his father would have been proud, although no doubt he would have hated all the tourists converging on his farmland.
...
..
“That a boy Cliff!” Sawyer praises, watching his eldest practice for the upcoming rodeo on the bucking pony. “Keep your grip tight, don’t let her throw you!”
Cliff’s brow furrows in concentration, moving his body with the horse to avoid being thrown.
“When do I get to try?” Daniel, who they always call Danny, complains.
“When you turn 8.” Sawyer responds, ruffling his son’s dusty blonde hair fondly.
“But that’s two whole more years!” Danny cries, pouting as he watches his older brother hoot in joy as the pony gives a particular vicious buck.
“Sorry kiddo, I promised your mom no bucking ponies until 8.”
Danny looks up at his father, kicking at the dirt with his cowboy boots. “I won’t tell mama if you don’t.”
Sawyer laughs, adjusting 4 year old Garrett more securely on his broad shoulders. “I’ve never lied to your mother, and I’m not going to start now.”
The one minute timer goes off, and Cliff pats the pony to signal for her to stop. He hops off, feeding her a carrot and brushing her mane to praise a job well done.
“Good job Cliff. Let’s finish the last few chores boys, and then let’s get cleaned up for dinner.” Sawyer instructs.
...
..
An hour later, Sawyer and the boys return to the house after finishing up the last of the farm chores. The boys immediately run inside, rushing to get to their bathroom first.
“I better not hear dirty boots on my clean carpet!” Morgan yells from the kitchen, and the boys immediately stop in their tracks to remove their boots and place them by the door. Sawyer takes off his own boots as the boys race upstairs.
He approaches Trent, their two year old, in his playpen. Sawyer steps over the small fence, taking a seat on the floor beside the toddler. He places a kiss to the boy’s dirty blonde hair. “Hey buddy, what are we playing?”
“Fire truck!” Trent shouts jubilantly, driving the small model truck along the carpet, between blocks and legos.
Sawyer picks up a model train. “Oh no Trent, the train flipped over! It’s on fire!” Sawyer adds sounds effects as he drives the train on the carpet, flipping it onto its side.
“Fire truck to the rescue!” Trent cries out, driving his firetruck towards the scene of the accident. Sawyer smiles fondly, ruffling the boy’s hair before standing up.
“Start putting your toys into the bin buddy, we’re having dinner soon.” Sawyer instructs as he steps out of the play pin, heading to the kitchen and his very pregnant wife.
Morgan feels her husband’s arm wrap around her from behind, resting under her bump as he places kisses down the back of her neck.
“Aren’t you going to clean up for dinner? You’re all sweaty.” Morgan complains, but she leans back into his embrace anyway as she flips the turkey burger on the stove.
“I wanted to take advantage of having a minute alone with my baby girl.” Sawyer replies, taking the spatula from her and flipping another burger before turning her around and capturing her lips.
Morgan pulls her husband as close as she can with her enlarged belly between them. “Hmm...just you, me, and Carter.” Morgan replies, looking down at her belly.
Sawyer rests a hand on her belly as Carter kicks. “Can’t wait to meet you in a few days buddy.” Sawyer murmurs, rubbing comfortingly.
“Me either. I’m so done being pregnant.” Morgan replies as she turns back to the stove to remove some garlic bread from the oven when it beeps.
“Mmm...I love you being pregnant.” Sawyer reveals, resting his head on top of her’s as he hugs her from behind.
“I know. That’s why you keep knocking me up. Which reminds me, you should get a vasectomy.” Morgan says nonchalantly, seasoning the turkey burger.
Sawyer reflexively takes a step back, hands resting over his nether regions protectively. “Pretty sure it takes two to make a baby darlin’.” Sawyer insists.
“We both know I’m never going to remember to take my birth control though, so you should just get the vasectomy.” Morgan returns.
Sawyer draws his wife back into his arms. “You don’t mean that baby girl.”
“I definitely do. I figure I have another good ten reproductive years, and going at our current pace that’s like ten or eleven kids. Probably all boys. Not doing that.” Morgan retorts.
Sawyer places more kisses down her neck, and Morgan shivers despite herself. “I’m not getting a vasectomy. I know you want a girl.”
Morgan scoffs. “You don’t know how to make girls.”
Sawyer grins, turning her back around to face him when she finishes with the food. “We could make a girl, we just can’t leave it up to chance. There are things we can do though. Like make love two days before you’re ovulating, in the missionary position. Or with you on top. And we both need to eat lots of veggies. And chocolate for you.”
Morgan loops her arms over his shoulders, cocking her brow. “How do you know all this stuff?”
Sawyer presses a quick kiss to her delectable lips, holding her close. “I’ve been doing some research. I want a baby girl.”
“I thought I was your baby girl.” Morgan retorts jokingly, raising up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.
“You are darlin’. But I want us to have a little girl. Whose hair you can braid. And who can help you bake my mom’s bourbon apple pie.”
“You say that like our boys don’t help me bake. That’s kind of sexist. What, do you think women belong in the kitchen?” Morgan looks down at herself. “Preferably barefoot and pregnant?” She teases.
Sawyer rolls his eyes. “You know I don’t think like that. I’m also going to teach her how to ride a bucking pony.”
“Not until she’s 10.” Morgan insists.
“But for the boys it’s 8? Wow baby, that’s so sexist.” Sawyer teases, laughing as Morgan rolls her eyes at him.
She pulls away from him, starting to set the table. Sawyer immediately starts to help, grabbing the food to bring to the table.
“Why are you even thinking about another baby when I’m pregnant right now? Why don’t you focus on Carter?” Morgan complains.
“Because, if we do what we usually do, you’ll have the baby, work really hard to get back to pre-baby weight, and then when you’re finally almost there in a year, I’ll get you pregnant again and then you’ll be mad at me for the first few weeks. If you think about it, it makes much more sense to get pregnant again right away. They could be Irish twins.” Sawyer explains.
“Then we’d have three under three. You’re insane.” Morgan retorts.
“And three 5 and up to help us. Cliff is great with diapers.” Sawyer insists.
“Nope. I like my vasectomy plan better.” Morgan replies, smirking as his face falls.
“Don’t be like that baby. Maybe she’d even look like you.” Sawyer continues to make his case for baby number 6.
“Liar. You know she’ll look like you with pigtails. Just like all our boys look like you.” Morgan emphasizes that last you with a playful jab at his chest.
Sawyer takes her hand, raising it to his lips to place an adoring kiss. “I thought Carter kind of looked like you in the ultrasound.” Sawyer responds.
Morgan laughs. “Yeah right. Did you see those Oakley lips? He’s going to be all you.”
“I can’t help it that the Oakleys have strong genes.” Sawyer finally acquiesces.
Morgan loops her arms around his waist, pulling him flush against her. “You’re lucky I happen to like the way you look.” She whispers seductively.
Sawyer grins, tangling his fingers into her long brown hair to bring her in for an open mouthed kiss. “Just one more chance for a girl. Then I’ll get the vasectomy if that’s what you really want.” Sawyer speaks against her lips.
Morgan looks into her husband’s earnest face, thinking on it. “Fine Sawyer. One more baby.” She agrees.
Sawyer grins widely, kissing her and then dropping into a crouch to kiss her belly. “You hear that Carter? You’re going to be a big brother soon!” Sawyer says joyfully.
“Nah ah mister. I did not say soon. You try being pregnant 5 times in 9 years. I’m taking at least a two year break. Now go get cleaned up for dinner. And I’ll schedule your vasectomy for 2022.” Morgan retorts.
taglist: @desiree-0816 @cora-nova @choicesgremlin
130 notes
·
View notes
Text
We are the same; Bucky x teen reader
Alright guys like I promised here is request #2 that I received from an anon who wanted a Bucky barnes x teen reader. Now be warned there is hints of parental neglect, some swearing and it’s not a bad warning but the rest of the story goes into Bucky’s POV so I hope that’s alright with everyone and if not *shows you the door and gives u the boot* Also there’s STAR WARS refrences so I do NOT own SW or the Avengers, they belong to Disney/Marvel/Lucas Films. Anyways that’s all the warnings for now. Hope u all enjoy my lovelies ;)
Taglist:
@evyiione
__________________________________________________________
I didn’t know how it happened but it happened all so fast. I was sold to Hydra for drinking money by my own abusive parents and for years I was subjected to testing like an animal. No in fact I am an animal. Hydra wanted to combine human and animal DNA to create a monster that could take down an entire army and kill a thousand men.
My name is (y/n) and they call me Beast-girl, the ability to change into any animal alive or extinct. And my life was a living hell that I barely felt any life in my anymore.
Until they came.
Explosions came from outside the base, the alarms were blaring so loudly they made my sensitive ears bleed, and next thing I knew, I was taken by some of the scientists to be “terminated”. I was strapped to a table and given a paralyzing serum so that I couldn’t fight back then just before they gave me “the death” serum, the doors were busted open and a shield came flying in as well as guns firing.
As my vision was going in and out, I saw a man with dark brown hair and the deepest blue eyes standing over me trying to talk to me but thanks to the serum I could barely hear his voice. Then my vision went black due to hunger and dehydration.
Next thing I knew, I woke up in a bed with needles in my arm. Thinking I was being drugged again, I tried to take them out but I was stopped by a metal hand and he assured me that these were good drugs to counteract the ones I’ve been given for years.
I knew who he was once I got a clearer picture of him. It was the Winter Soldier, the prized soldier that Hydra always spoke of. They hoped one day they could’ve had us work together that was until the fall at Washington DC and they lost their prized weapon.
He assured me that I was going to be alright and that I was safe now. That I was never going to go back to that horrible place again.
*Bucky’s POV*
It’s been over a month since we had saved (y/n) and I have been paying very careful attention to her. I was in the same spot as she was when Steve found me three years ago but poor (y/n) was acting even worse than I was. She always looked so frail, so fragile like a broken kitten.
As I read more on her file, it broke my heart even more to see that she had never been given a single bit of love in her entire life, not just from Hydra but her parents as well.
I mean who the hell would ever sell their child to an organization like Hydra for drinking money no less!? I hoped that those bastards drank themselves to death, if not then I’ll hunt them down myself and put them out myself.
Currently the rest of the team and I were just casually hanging around the living room watching some movie that I was barely paying attention to because I had seen (y/n) come down in the form of a cat trying to find something to eat. I watched as she turned back to her normal human form and saw her sneak into the cabinet and pull out a bag of chips that I’ve noticed she always goes to, assuming those are her favorite out of all the chip bags we have (and I kid you not, we have a shit ton of chips).
She then turned back into a cat and took off the opposite way back towards her room. I looked at her with empathy when I heard Sam’s voice say.
“Yo Vanilla Ice whatcha starin at?”
“(Y/n) came down just now”.
“And we missed it? Damn that girl is more of a ninja than you were” exclaimed Tony. I glared at him and Steve getting the message slapped Tony in the back of the head as well as Natasha for being offensive.
“This isn’t a joke Tony!” snapped Natasha. “What (y/n) has been through both before and during Hydra is no laughing matter, be thankful that your parents at least cared about you”. That got Tony to shut up then Steve turned to me and said.
“What are you thinking?” I sighed deeply and said.
“I don’t know”.
Later that night I was laying on my bed in my Brooklynn apartment, rattling my brain thinking on how I could start to break the ice with (y/n). I wanted to break the ice with her slowly because I know that suddenly coming onto her would traumatize her further and she doesn’t need that suffering anymore.
Suddenly an idea came to me.
The next day after going on my daily morning run with Steve and Chocolachino I was the only one left in the kitchen because I wanted to wait for (y/n) to come down which she always did whenever we came back and then would enter the kitchen as soon as we had our quick breakfast.
I then saw her hiding behind the wall of the kitchen but as soon as I turned around, she hide back further against the wall. I then took the soda can I had sitting out and as soon as I opened it, the fizz came spurting out like a volcano all over me as well as the counters and the floor. If this wouldn’t work then I’m gonna kill myself for it but I soon heard the sound of soft laughter coming from behind the wall.
It was (y/n). And she was laughing as well as smiling. Aww she had a cute laugh too, kinda reminds me of my sister Becky’s laugh in a way.
“Well now that we’ve managed to break the ice a bit why don’t you come over here and help me clean this up before Stark kills me”. She was hesitant at first but I assured her, “I won’t hurt you (y/n), I promised you that no one was ever gonna hurt you while you were here and I’m sticking to that, so come on come here”. Finally she stepped out from the shadows and cautiously walked towards me and I handed her a bunch of paper towels to help me clean up the kitchen.
Every day after that, I made it my soul mission to make (y/n) smile at least once a day. If not by making a fool of myself, then by pranking Sam or Scott which really got her laughing.
After trying to learn how to do some lightsaber moves with a bow staff and hitting myself a few times, I really got her giggling and I even got her to finally talk to me.
“Why do you do that?” Her voice was so quiet and shy anyone else who would’ve heard her, would’ve just brushed it off as the AC running but I didn’t. So I answered her.
“Do what?”
“Make those noises, that’s not what a bow staff is for”.
“I know, I was just pretending it was a Lightsaber”.
“A what?”
“A Lightsaber, Steve and I just saw the recent Star Wars movie for the fifth time and everytime I see those things light up…..ohh I get chills”. I looked at her and told her, “You haven’t seen any of the movies yet have you?” She looked down shamefully and I assured her, “It’s okay, hey how about we skip training for today and you and I have ourselves a Star Wars day hmm?”
“But…..but Natasha she’ll….”
“I’ll take care of Nat okay, I’m also one of your teachers and I say you need a day off, plus I could use another Star Wars movie buddy besides Steve, sometimes he still gets lost with it”. I then led her out of the gym and the two of us got comfortable in my room and we began to watch Star Wars from the very beginning starting with the originals.
Turns out (y/n) freakin LOVED it as much as I did. And she was a fast learner with all the facts about each character and just like Steve and I were, she was shocked at the fact that Vader was Luke’s father.
By the end of the week, I took her to see “The Last Jedi” and by the end of it, we came in talking all about it in the secret code of Droid talk. I would do my best impersonation of R2 and she did an amazing BB8 imitation.
As the weeks went by, (y/n) was beginning to come out of her shell more and more around me but she was still a little hesitant around the rest of the team which I still understood. At night, she would be screaming Bloody Mary due to Nightmares, but I was always the first one there to comfort her and bring her back to reality and not leave her side until morning.
I would then prepare her a good breakfast especially after a terrible nightmare because I knew having some comfort food after reliving the torture in your dreams can put so much weight on you and make you feel utterly miserable.
One day as she and I were watching “A New Hope” together and quoting some of the lines, Steve came in and said I was needed for an emergency meeting regarding (y/n). She looked at me and I told her to just keep watching the movie and that I would be back in five minutes. I then followed Steve downstairs to the meeting room and saw the entire Avengers all sitting around looking at me.
“What’s going on here?” I asked.
“Well we’ve been noticing lately of how you and Lone Wolf have been getting along recently” stated Tony.
“You’re the only one who she seems to really like out of all of us, plus you’ve helped her in more ways than we ever could” said Natasha.
“We have come to a decision as a group that the best place for (y/n) isn’t with the Avengers, but with you Mr. Barnes” finished Vision. I looked at all of them and said.
“With me?”
“Yeah I mean you’ve gotten that girl to talk hell you got her to laugh the moment you got her alone with you with that soda can gag while the rest of us couldn’t get as much as a glance of her”. Stated Sam. Steve then came up to me and said.
“You and her both know what it’s like Buck. To be taken and twisted until you were what Hydra wanted you to be. Ever since she got here, I haven’t seen you this happy or determined to make a girl smile since your sister Rebecca”.
“Yeah….she reminds me of Becky every now and then” I stated with a soft smile.
“Both her and you are most happy around each other. You and her deserve each other, you draw strength from each other, you look out for her and I know that when she finds enough strength, she’ll do the same for you”.
“Thanks man, thank you all”.
“Take care of her Buck, and yourself as well”. I nodded to Steve then I took off back up the stairs to my room to see (y/n) still sitting there quoting the Princess Leia Obi-Wan message. I stayed hidden for a bit until she finished and knocked alerting her of my presence.
“Hey (n/n) can I talk to yah real quick?”
“Sure what is it?” I then sat down beside her and told her.
“Well what the guys wanted to talk to me about is that we’ve decided where you’ll be staying at. So how would you feel like coming to live with me in Brooklyn?” She looked at me shocked and said.
“Live with you?”
“Yes but the final decision is all up to you. You can stay here in the Tower with the rest of the team, or you can come live with me”. She looked at me and immediately hugged me tightly. I was shocked at first but I relaxed and held her in my arms.
“I want to live with you Bucky”.
“Then live with me you shall, we’ll move your stuff to my place first thing in the morning”. She cuddled into my chest and as the two of us continued watching Star Wars I heard her whisper as she was starting to fall asleep.
“I always wanted a brother”. I smiled down at her and kissed her forehead and said to her.
“I promise to be the best brother you’ve ever had”. I then held my sister in my arms until I too succumbed to the force that was sleep.
#avengers fandom#avengers fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes x teen reader#bucky barnes fluff#avengers oneshot
241 notes
·
View notes
Text
Three Things: The Florida Project
With the Oscars coming up next week, I’m trying to see the last few of the big nominees. The only thing I knew about The Florida Project going in was that it had something to do with homeless people living in the motels around Disney World. Having seen it now, I’d say a better log line might be: imagine Boyhood but with girls and hardship.
Three things that I take away from its storytelling:
1) The Power of the Delayed Disaster
The classic trope of storytelling is delayed gratification. The protagonist has a goal; achieving that goal gets only more difficult as the story goes on, even their successful moves unintentionally complicating their journeys. And the harder it is, the more we’re captivated.
In The Florida Project, that’s largely turned inside out. The only real “goal” here is status quo: to have fun, to keep living in the motel, and (eventually) to not draw the attention of the cops.
There is a sort of plot to the film, as maintaining the status quo gets more and more difficult for Halley. But the real tension of the film comes from watching these kids, who wander unsupervised and without seeming to realize the dangers of the world around them; it’s so clear that something terrible is around the corner, yet the disaster keeps being delayed.
They set an empty building on fire, but don’t get caught. They’re approached by a so-creepy tourist, but motel manager Bobby Hicks (played by a remarkably understated Willem Dafoe) drives him away. They get trapped outside in a rainstorm, but get home safely. Time and again they do things that infuriate people, but it never quite blows up and endangers them the way it looks like it might.
It’s not until the very end, when Moonee is going to be taken away from her mom, that we finally get to the “all fall down” moment. Even then the horror is delayed, as Moonee at first does not understand what’s going on and kind of goes along with it.
Basically The Florida Project is a two hour horror film where you are constantly aware of a coming monster that the characters are not, and although he doesn’t show until the last scene, rather than getting bored or confused you spend the film more and more consumed with dread.
2) The Catharsis of a Fantasy
The last sequence of the film offers an incredible fantasy-based reversal. Moonee stands at the door of her friend Jancey’s house, slowly descending into a complete emotional collapse. (It’s incredible how well that moment comes together. Lead actress Brooklynn Prince was only six or seven years old when they filmed this movie, and her performance throughout is really strong. But the truth of what she does standing there is just impossibly searing.
As she’s breaking down we keep waiting for DCS and the cops to show up. And it’s a long moment; director Sean Baker really piles on that sense of dread.
Then suddenly everything shifts. Where the film has been without soundtrack, suddenly there’s this upbeat swell, Jancey grabs Moonee’s hand, and they run off in fast forward. At first it just seems to be about escape, getting away.
But then suddenly they’re in the Magic Kingdom: they’re running down Main Street past happy families taking photos (what a detail). The Sleeping Beauty Castle appears in the distance. Then it’s right in front of them. They run towards it, until they’re out of sight.
That’s how the film ends, with this children’s fantasy of a way out. Even more than Moonee’s breakdown, this is the catharsis moment. The expression of what not just the children but we have been longing for more and more deeply. The way the world should be for these kids, and so many others.
It’s such an unexpected choice. And absolutely devastating.
3) Life When Nobody’s Watching
While the film alternates between Moonee and her friends playing, Halley relaxing/trying to make ends meet, and Bobby the motel manager trying to keep things running and protect his residents, the story is always positioned to see the world from their point of view. So when the kids go running through the motel, the camera is usually moving at their eye level; adults walk by and look down on us.
Or when Halley is at the employment service trying to get help, the camera is mostly so zoomed in on her (and Moonee) we’re not even sure where we are. Likewise when she’s working with Moonee to try and sell perfume to tourists, though the camera is far away, almost as though we’re hiding behind a car watching her, there’s no judgment in the presentation. We see them before, during and after the sales; the drama is only whether they pull it off and what that allows or denies them.
It’s a behind the scenes, documentary-type perspective. This is what these people’s lives are like when nobody is watching.
The most interesting moment in this regard is watching Bobby as Moonee and Halley are being separated. So often in the film he’s revealed to be this good guy caught in the middle, trying to help while keeping his boss happy.
And here at the end he’s the gentle touch trying to comfort Moonee. But once she’s in the hands of DCS, he’s out of all that. We just get these moments of him walking the motel, hearing bits and pieces of the shouting and screaming going on elsewhere. Is he devastated by it all? Relieved? Shut down to try and cope? Dafoe won’t quite show his cards, and the result is you can’t look away. (Again, in delay and denial there is so much power.)
A difficult but incredible film.
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
You Can Hide Here
part 16
author: @pusantheamazonian
part 1: https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/161717451846/you-can-hide-here
part 2 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/161717668251/you-can-hide-here
part 3 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/161717998306/you-can-hide-here
part 4 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/161718268416/you-can-hide-here
part 5 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/167972312781/you-can-hide-here
part 6 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168462055071/you-can-hide-here
part 7 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168535611451/you-can-hide-here
part 8 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168538267861/you-can-hide-here
part 9 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168539193221/you-can-hide-here
part 10 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168539788521/you-can-hide-here
part 11 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168568276186/you-can-hide-here
part 12 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168679184446/you-can-hide-here
part 13 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168681944041/you-can-hide-here
part 14 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168710059736/you-can-hide-here
part 15 https://rudemaidenswrite.tumblr.com/post/168924064086/you-can-hide-here
tag list: @1800-fight-me
Tony brings you down to his main lab, it is littered with various pieces of Iron Man. Following Tony, he reaches behind a tool box and pulls out the Oreos.
“You hide the cookies behind the tools?”
“Only the good ones, I have snacks hidden all over the place.” Tony smiles proudly.
“Uh-huh are all those places hiding cookies?”
“No, some are fruit snacks.” Tony says sitting down on the random couch he has positioned against a wall.
“So a snack in practically every room then?” You sit down beside him and grab a handful of cookies.
“Of course!” You two sit in silence while eating half of the cookies in under five minutes. “Solana you know that you are smart, right?” Tony stares at you like you’re about to disappear at any moment.
“No I’m not.” You scoff at him and roll your eyes.
“Yes you are. I reviewed the designs you left. They are simplified at all the right places so it works better than the original company’s design.” Tony hops off the couch, grabs something from the cabinet and places it on the table. It’s the original version of the M2 Shocker that you built.
“That’s...you built it?”
“I needed a model of the original to figure out how they hid the bomb.”
“Does it work?” You are very intrigued with Tony's duplicate.
‘Does it work? Please of course it works. If you don’t believe me pick up the handles.” Tony mockingly replies.
Taking Tony up on that offer you grab the handles, one in each hand. “Go for it.” You smile. Tony chuckles before turning the crank a few times; by the third crank a quick one second electrical shock is given.
“Wooh! It does work.” You give a body wiggle as you place the handles back on the table.
“Why would you doubt me?”
“Because you’re sneaky and don’t tell the team what you are doing, so you end up causing a lot of trouble.” Steve interrupts standing behind you with his arms crossed. You hadn’t hear the door open. Tony rolls his eyes in annoyance while Steve gives you the stink eye.
“What do you need boss?” Tony is clearly annoyed and sarcastic.
“Fury wants everyone in the conference room.”
“Darn I will have to cancel my lunch date.” Tony pouts.
“Oh so you have a hot date later?” You tease.
“Ya, you.”
“What?” You look at Tony like he’s crazy.
“I figured you would want to get out and see New York before you get cabin fever.”
“That would be nice.” You mumble realizing that you have been stuck in this tower without even stepping close to an exit door much less been outside.
“Tony, she is not allowed to leave the building.” Steve states reminding everyone that he is still there.
“What do you want Steve?” Tony is exasperated.
“Conference room!” Steve points to the door. Tony groans the whole way, to ease his pain Tony links arms with you. Steve follows closely still giving the stink eye.
In the conference room you can feel the separation and can see it. Down one side of the table is Loki and Natasha, the other side is Thor and Clint. Bruce is sitting quietly at the end of the table. You know something is up because Clint and Natasha aren’t sitting together. If it be the only thing you have learned is that Clint and Natasha are practically attached at the hip. You and Tony sit down beside Loki while Steve sits down beside Thor. Fury looks like the disappointed parent ready to have a family meeting.
“It has come to my attention that ya’ll have been acting like stupid children. Coulson has made some progress in the interrogation.” Fury clicks a button on a small remote and a video pops up behind him. You can clearly see who it is. It’s John, beaten and bruised...but it’s John.
“Explain your connections to Hydra” Its Coulson’s voice in the background. The video focuses on John, so you can’t see Coulson or anyone else in the room.
John chuckles as you see him size up Coulson. “I’m a scientist for the glorious Hydra.”
“Who pretends to be a college student?“
”What better way to recruit new hydra agents and new ideas.” John smiles leaning back into his chair.
“Is that’s how you came up with the M2 Shocker?”
“That’s child’s play. All I did was turn that toy into a useful weapon.”
“Solana didn’t know what you did to it then?”
“Ha! For being so intelligent she’s stupid.”
“Why would you say that?” Coulson sounds generally confused by that statement.
“You’ve never interacted with her before...she’s socially awkward with no friends. And completely oblivious to what I was doing because I was the only one who volunteered to talk to her. Solana being the smartest was just a bonus.”
You crumble inside as you look at the ground from John’s last statement. It hurts more than expected when it is said out loud that you were the scrap goat. Loki instantly notices and holds your hand. You never realized that was how your classmates saw you.
“What do you plan to use the M2 Shocker for?”
“My job ain’t a job, it’s a damn good time.”
“That’s supposed to mean something?” Coulson sighs.
“Good luck...I bet you have her locked away and left to rot because she said something stupid and you accused her.” John leans in grinning.
“What do you plan to do with the M2 Shocker?”
“Lucky that you guys have her for now...Hydra doesn’t like to leave lose ends.” John ignores Coulson’s actual question.
“Anything else you want to share?“
”When do I get some food?” Coulson stands up without a word and leaves. “Hey! Where are you going?”
Fury clinks the screen off and slides your phone across the table to you. “Your sister has been texting you.” You catch your phone and see that someone has responded to Lucine. Pretending to be you saying you were sick. Looking up, everyone is staring at you. “Our main goal is to find out where the rest of the machines are and what Hydra plans to do with them.” Fury states drawing everyone’s attention back to him.
“He doesn’t seem to concerned that he is captured.” Natasha analyses.
“Which means he knows he is either dead if Hydra gets him back or he considers himself far too important for them to dispose of him.” Bruce states.
“What did that phrase mean? My job ain’t a job, it’s a damn good time.” Steve questions.
“A weird way of saying he likes his job?” Clint replies.
“That’s completely different phrasing from what his body language is saying.” Tony says.
“No...sleep...till Brooklynn.” You mumble.
“Solana? Something to share?” Fury asks; he has amazing hearing.
“No Sleep till Brooklynn. The phrase ‘my job ain’t a job, it’s a damn good time’ is a line from the song No Sleep till Brooklynn by the Beastie Boys.”
“How would you know that?” Tony questions.
“Come on I’m not the only one who listens to music.” You give everyone a look that says that they are all stupid.
“Are you even old enough to know who the Beastie Boys are?” Clint sarcastically asks.
“The village called. They’d like their idiot back. You better get going.” You snap back at Clint without even thinking. Clint smirks at your sudden response. You’ve about had it with Clint’s sarcasm, he’s worse than Lucine.
“So you’re saying that phrase was a hint to where Hydra will be?” Steve asks.
“IDK, if he is using it as a hint but that means all of New York will have to be checked.”
“Not just Brooklynn?” Natasha inquires.
“The song references all of New York’s boroughs.”
“Boroughs?” Thor finally speaks.
“Neighborhoods.” Steve elaborates.
“Son of a bitch.” Tony articulates.
“What?” Fury asks, his interest has peaked because of Tony’s outburst.
“The UN is having a meeting next week in New York.” Tony rushes the words out of his mouth.
“What’s the topic?” Bruce asks.
“Human Rights and International Law.“
”Well now we have a lead.” Steve agrees.
“Solana don’t go too far; Hydra is probably looking for you. Tony, Bruce figure out how the hell to disarm the M2 Shocker. Everyone else follow the lead.” Fury states dismissing everyone from the room before he goes back to his normal menacing self. Everyone is deliberately slow when leaving. While you pop out of that chair ready to go and first one out that door. At the elevator Steve, Clint and Thor stop you.
“Solana wait a minute, I-uh we want to tell you something.” Steve stumbles to find the right words.
“Ok...” You uneasily face the trio.
“No hard feelings kid.” Clint says first.
“My deepest apologies Solana, you have proved us wrong in our haste judgement.” Thor speaks modestly.
“What?” You are so confused on what they are talking about.
“Solana, I’m sorry. We jumped to the conclusion that you worked for Hydra because of the oddly timed coincidences yesterday.” Steve’s ears start to turn red as he expands on his apology.
“I thought there was a reason why ya’ll have been acting like jerks.” You try to return the favor of giving the stink eye but it doesn't work out too well.
“Sorry kid but you never know.” Clint shrugs.
“But we are sorry.” Steve says again.
“Well next time you will believe me.” Natasha says as she pushes past everyone to get on the elevator. “Woman’s intuition, I believed you Solana.” Natasha responds before you can question what she meant.
You stand there in astonishment as they all load into the elevator. It’s so surprising to you that they apologized. No one’s ever apologized that quickly and honestly to you before not even you family. Standing there you let the elevator doors close not even aware that Loki and Tony are standing beside you.
“Solana are you okay?” Loki asks brushing some hair away from your face.
“Ya, just surprised they apologized.”
“Of course they apologized we have morals.” Tony says pushing the elevator button this time.
Loki leads you by the hand into the elevator behind Tony. Then you remember something, a question that popped in your head from earlier.
“So what were you doing after breakfast that caused you to beat up on the others?” You stare intently at Loki.
“In the simulator training room, Clint made a comment so I made sure that he knew he was wrong.” Loki replies calmly brushing it off as nothing.
“A simulator room? What, are you guys the X-Men or something?“
”X-Men? What do you know about the X-Men?” Tony scoffs.
“Well I know they have a simulator room aka the danger room; which they use to help train the students on controlling their powers and those joining the X-team.” Placing your hands on your hips, you are ready to argue with Tony.
“How would you know that?” Loki questions, his interest has peaked.
“Because I’ve been there.”
“You’ve been to the X Mansion?” Tony is flabbergasted. You can’t help but to laugh from the look on Tony’s face.
“Nah, but I have a friend that went there. He actually teaches there now.”
“Impossible! Why didn’t you say anything?” Tony over exaggerates the look of hurt from not knowing this information.
“That information is not relevant to anything happening right now besides it’s not impossible just highly improbable.” You smile exiting the elevator to Loki’s apartment.
“I’ve been trying to get a partnership with the X-Men for years!” You hear Tony’s muffled voice say from the other side of the closed elevator doors. Loki just gives you a smile as he opens the door, you can sense the proudness he has for you.
#tony stark#loki#thor#clint barton#natasha romanoff#Steve Rogers#bruce banner#phil coulson#director fury#original character#hydra#justice#xmen#danger room#simulator#conference
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
How Did I Survive Without You?
//In which Peter Parker hunts for his Soulmate//
//Soulmate AU//
He gently picked at the tattoo, a index finger scratching at his red skin. It burned with the slightest touch. He pinched the bridge of his nose before slowly dragging his bare feet against the wooden floor. He knew it was a bad sign, he’d had the mark for close to year and yet he’s made no effort to find this girl who is destined for him. He could not understand why it burned, why it pained him to even look at the mark.
He needed to find her get answers. Peter didn't believe in the whole love at first sight ordeal. He couldn't wrap his thoughts around the fact that some woman would be his forced forever and him never meeting her. He ran his hands through his hair before letting out a deep sigh, a bubbling feel settled in his stomach as he enter upon a diner that one of the locals owned. They had one of the best sub sandwiches in Brooklynn in his opinion. He froze as he watched the girl in front of him, her silk (hair type) pushing against the wind revealing the inked that mimicked Peter’ s. She was beautiful, her eyes were a soft sparkling color of (eye color) and her skin naturally glowed in the light. She sipped on the drink in front of her before making an disgusted face. Peter slowly traveled across the street his eyes never leaving the girl’s picturesque face.
Peter slowly moved in front of the seat, he watched her in awe. He never thought this wave of emotion would crash over him. He could feel himself falling deeply in love with her each passing second. The more he watched her unique beauty, the more he feel in love. Y/N slowly lifted her head eying the boy whom temporarily blocked the sun. A slow smile crept on her face but slowly added as she noticed the same inked drawing on his forearm. She slowly pushed out her chair, watching him with intensity. Before she could mutter out any word, his lips were pressed against her, tasting the bitter taste of coffee but loving the way it tasted on her chocolate flavored lips.
Y/N felt herself slowly falling into the kiss, the stiffness of her arms soon wrapped around his waist while he cuffed her face with passion. She was snapped back into reality when she realized why she was waiting at the diner in the first place. “Stop! Just wait a second” she pushed out, her hand pressing against his chest. “We can’t do this- us”
He didn’t understand what it was to be broken, to physical feel your heart aching. “W-what?”
“You can’t just come and kiss me and act like everything is okay! You consciously made a choice to not want to be with, so I moved on. Didn’t feel the burn” she whispered, the itching had gone for the moment he saw, the overwhelming sensation disappeared when his lips touched hers. “I have a boyfriend who I really might love and-”
“But-”
“I’m so-”
“No, I just-”
He stopped speaking his words getting caught his throat as he watched her. Her sad eyes scanning over his. “I felt the burn for months, I woke every morning praying that you would change your mind about this. I would contemplate cutting off my own arm just feel some type of relief. Then one day I just had to stop care because if I didn’t-”
“Hey Y/N!” the voice of her boyfriend shouted, her eyes snapped to the by running her direction. He smiled brightly before snaking his arm around her waist, his lips pressed against her forehead before looking Peter.
“Y/N?” he whispered, he smiled gently at the feeling of her name of his tongue, she shivered at the sound of her name escaping his lips. “Peter Parker” he informed her.
“Who-”
“I’m her soulmate, you know destined to be together” he cut off Y/N’s boyfriend, his gaze harshening with each word he spoke.
“Dylan” she whispered his body stiffening at his words. “Peter, I think you should go”
“Me? So our kiss meant nothing?” Peter knew it meant something, she would’ve kissed back the way she did if it didn’t mean something. But his purpose of his question wasn’t for Y/N to retract her statement, it was for Dylan to see how closely they’ve become in the few moments they meant rather than the months it took him to kiss her on the cheek.
“Maybe I should go” she whispered, pushing past the pair before clutching her jacket close to her person.
“You are too late, you had a chance to get one of the most perfect girls in the world but you screwed up” Dylan spoke
“It’s never too late” Peter whispered before moving out of Dylan’s sight.
Peter soared through the sky, trying to find Y/N his eyes scanning over each ant-like person. He was giving up hope, he would never see her again, he’d never get to touch her again. He smiled brightly at the sight of Y/N sitting on the stairs of her house, her hands grooming the dog’s face next to her. She stared absentmindedly at the concrete not noticing Peter flying down to the right of the stairs.
“Y/N?” He spoke slowly, catching her attention
“How did you find me?” She whispered, she stood up watching Peter’s expression. “You know what I don’t wanna know” she laughed to herself before folding her arms against her chest.
“I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry and I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t worth it. As cliché as it sounds, it was me being the jackass and something that you did. I was stuck in my own way not realizing that I was hurting, no killing someone that means the world to me.” Y/N shifted her weight to the right foot, giving a soft smile at his words. “You don’t have to forgive me, hell I don’t even know if I would forgive me either. I would loathe myself if I was you but just don’t tell me that you won’t be in my life. I mean a phone call here and there to tell that you’re okay or maybe just to tell me that you hate me. Send me a picture of your middle finger, I don’t care just don’t not be in my life”
She sighed, pressing her now chapped lips in a thin before sucking on her bottom lip. “Just- I need time to think”
Peter nodded understandingly, he watched her move into her house. He didn’t want to go anywhere, he wanted to lay by her side. He never thought he’d crave it so much, wanting the feeling of her arms wrapped around him. Her lips pressed against his.
“Peter?” Y/N questioned, quickly moving to her knees taking his head in her fragile hands. Her eyes scanning over his pale face. “What are you doing out here? Peter have you been here all night?” He nodded robotically as he pressed his head closer into her hand, loving the feeling of her warmth radiating on him. “Oh Peter” She whispered.
“You told me you needed to think about it...” he stopped for a moment “I know I’ve been a terrible soulmate but- I really want to prove to you that I love you, I want to be with you”
“Oh Peter” she said again, she wrapped her arms around with a grunt she hauled him into her warm house, The warmth instantly wrapping Peter up. With a soft groan Peter laid against her couch, his body aching with each movement. She quickly took a seat beside him, wrapping the wool quilt around him. Her hand slowly brushing the fallen pieces out of his face. A sympathetic smile wrapped around her lips. “Why?”
“You’re my other half without you I am nothing” he whispers, she closes her eyes slowly before pressing her head against his. “I don’t how I functioned so long without having you in my life, without seeing your face. Mentally, Physically, Emotionally I am nothing without you.
“God you are such an idiot Peter Parker” she states with a soft chuckle, her warmness radiating on him. His hand steadily wrapped around her hips holding in place.
#The Avengers#the avengers imagine#avengers imagine#avengers x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#imagine#imagines#request#requested#ask me anything
178 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sweet Survivor Ch.7
Darius burst into the room, causing Ben to yelp and sit up. Kenji groaned and looked up.
“Darius? Dude, what—”
“We got a problem.”
*
“What is that?” Sammy asked in fear, looking down at a sixteen foot high deep green spinosaurid with bright yellow striped markings across it’s back and flank. It had a smooth back and a long crocodile like snout lined with sharp teeth.
Kenji and Ben were dressed in their regular clothes, looking over the balcony with Darius, Brooklynn and Sammy, Yaz inside.
It was currently roaring at Ally, both circling each other.
“Suchomimus…” Darius said. “It’s jaws aren’t that strong but…”
“But?”
Ally roared and charged the Suchomimus, snapping at her and missing, the suchomimus bit Ally’s throat, tearing out a chuck of flesh, Ally screeching and backing up. But the Sucho advanced, snapping and missing until Ally tried to bite her again, the Sucho using her sharp claws on her flank.
Ben gasped as she hooked her claws deeper into Ally’s side and yanked her off balance, tearing open her neck wound even more, Ally screeching in pain. She thrashed her legs at the Sucho, but it locked it’s jaws around her wound and with a twist of her head, left Ally bleeding out.
Ben covered his mouth as the Sucho screeched in victory, rearing her head up and pausing, tilting her head this way and that.
She growled and a juvenile came out of the trees, only eight feet tall and started tearing into Ally’s side, feasting on the well fought meal of its pack mate. The smaller one was a navy blue with white dappled markings on her body.
Suddenly, one coughed and spat out something familiar.
“Hello? This is -SCRRRRCH- to Jurassic World. Do you read me?”
“A satellite phone?!” Brooklynn yelled before clapping her hands over her mouth.
Two sets of eyes looked up at her.
But by the time they looked, the five had ducked down past the balcony to hide themselves.
The duo went back to eating and the teens snuck into the room.
“How are we gonna get that phone?” Ben asked. “I can’t imagine it has that much battery left.”
“Ben’s right.” Darius said. “We need to draw them away.”
“And how are we gonna draw Army and Navy off?” Kenji asked.
Everyone gave him a look.
“They look like camo colors—urgh! What’s the plan?”
“Ben and Yaz are too injured to move really fast.” Sammy said.
“Wait. Brooklynn,” Darius said. “Remember when Kenji and I were in the raptor paddock?”
“Yeah. You two almost died.” She said. “Wait…wait!”
She smiled.
“Wait, what’s the plan?” Ben asked.
*
“This is so gross.” Yaz said, riding Bumpy as she pulled a trolly full of raw meat.
“We gotta get them away from the front. So if we distract them with this, which they’re use to, maybe we can run out and grab the phone.” Sammy said.
Yaz wrinkled her nose.
Ben was looking at the empty bottles Kenji had stuffed in a canvas bag.
“Just count on Yaz. You know she’s got a killer arm.” He said.
“I don’t like this.” Ben said.
“I’m the fastest out of all of us.” Kenji said. “I can do this. We still have our second date.”
Ben chuckled and nodded.
Brooklynn and Darius were wearing trash bags over their clothes so the smell of meat wouldn’t stick strongly on them. They finished hauling the meat out to the south courtyard from the third floor window.
“Okay, you two get up to the penthouse.” Darius said. “Sammy, you’re with Ben and Yaz. Let’s go, guys.”
Ben grabbed Kenji’s bicep and he paused, placing a hand over his.
“I’ll be back.” He said, kissing his cheek. “I promise.”
“Be careful.” Ben pleaded before getting in the lift with Bumpy and Yaz.
Kenji smiled and made sure the windows were sealed and covered up.
They went down to the front.
“Any minute.” Darius said before hearing three loud shatters and the clang of the trolly being thrown over a balcony.
The suchos lifted their heads and sniffed, stalking towards the other side of the hotel.
“Keep low and slow for now. Only run if you have to.” Darius whispered and opened the front door.
Kenji nodded and crept down the monorail steps next to the entrance. He looked over the banister to see Army’s tail disappear. He quietly zeroed in on the yellow and black brick of a phone.
He bit his lip when he saw Ally’s blood soaked maw and dull lifeless eyes.
He turned and ducked when he saw Navy look over the side of the building, before sneezing and turning back around to join her pack mate. He army crawled to the monorail and started to climb, before feeling hot rancid breath wash over his right.
Army stood there, eyeing him.
He stayed very still…
Until she roared.
He crawled up and started running up the stairs, the phone clutched hard in his hand.
A bottle smashed behind Army and she turned to look, giving Kenji the moment he needed to run into the building. Darius closed the door quietly and they snuck to the hall.
“Here.” Kenji whispered, giving Brooklynn the phone.
She checked it over.
“Still enough power to make a call.” She said.
They smiled at each other before Army burst through the glass doors and monitors, dazed.
Brooklynn gasped as they saw the younger Sucho came up behind her as she stood and shook her head.
The three ran towards the staircase, Army roaring and charged at them, slipping on debris and sliding in front of them, blocking the staircase.
Darius slid to a halt right in front of her open mouth before it shut. Kenji pulled him into the elevator with he and Brooklynn, Army smashing into the metal doors, making it impossible for them to move.
“Darius!” Kenji said and hit his shoulder. “The emergency door!”
Roaring, they heard Navy charge again, the door creaking open a fraction.
“Darius!” Kenji yelled.
Darius stepped in Kenji’s hand and was lifted to his shoulders. He pushed it up and open, crawling up as Kenji lifted Brooklynn and followed after her, Navy’s snout breaking through.
Darius was already climbing up the ladder when Kenji heard the elevator door above them burst open, Navy shaking her head as she snapped at Brooklynn’s ankles.
“Hey!” Kenji yelled and got on the other side of the ladder. “Right here!”
“Kenji!” Darius yelled.
“Just go!” He yelled. “Come on…”
Navy snarled and lunged at him. Kenji thought of his Dad, Candy, his soon to be born little sister, Ben…
And jumped over Navy onto the third floor.
Navy screeched and landed heavily on Army, who snapped and growled at her.
Kenji took off towards the stairs, climbing up as fast as he could. He heard banging behind him and the staircase echoed with Navy’s snarling.
*
Ben paced around as Sammy opened the roof top access door.
“With all that noise, we should get up on higher ground.” She said.
“And go where?” Yaz asked.
Sammy bit her lip, Yaz taking her hand and hugging her.
Darius burst through the door, Brooklynn behind him.
She panted and held out the phone.
“Here! Call the last number!” She huffed.
Sammy grabbed it and started dialing.
“Hello?” A familiar voice asked. “Hello? How did you get my number?”
“Roxy?!” Sammy asked.
“Sammy? Are you okay?!” She asked.
From the background they could hear a few voices. Then Dave spoke into the phone.
“Where are you right now?”
“We’re in the hotel! There’s two suchomimus trying to get at us!”
“The hotel?” Dave asked. “The one with the big SOS on top?”
“What?” She yelled.
“Look up, Kid!”
The five looked up to see a large sleek helicopter coming from afar. The word “KON” printed on the tail.
#jurassic world camp cretaceous#kenji kon#ben pincus#jw bumpy#jw brooklynn#darius bowman#sammy gutierrez#yaz fadoula#camp cretaceous#jwcc#jw fanfic#jw benji#camp cretaceous fanfic#camp cretaceous sweet survivor
33 notes
·
View notes