#i still cannot figure out how tall mama is

[squirmydonnie]

I am out of storage in such a way that I cannot even take pictures anymore so here is a drawing of me and mama from last year in december.

[hurthermore]

Mama, i agree with the other anaon WE CRAVE THE FLUFF !!! (No force tho ur such a Pookie for writing in Gen <33)

Signed, penguin anon :3

»»------► 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑

Pairing: 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warnings: 𝚂𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛

A/N: 𝙵𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚖𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙾, 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙴 𝙸 𝙶𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙸 𝙲𝙰𝙽 𝙶𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙵𝙻𝚄𝙵𝙵, 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝? 𝙸𝚍𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚐

He always knew you’d be the death of him; he knew it from the moment he set his sights on you. You, with your charming voice, your beautiful personality, your breathtaking looks that he could get lost in for days; and the way you murdered people alongside that? You were the embodiment of perfection to Alastor.

And even as you stood before him, your clothes heavily swaying along with the strong breeze, a breeze created by the crashing of waves below the very tall cliff you were edging towards, Alastor couldn’t seem to stop following you; like a man heeding the siren's call, he was fully entranced. 

But he knew why, why he followed you here as the sounds of a raging mob could be heard in the distance of the wooded area behind the two of you; a mob that had for some unknown reason, figured out the hobbies Alastor and yourself partook in. Yet the sounds of the angry people marching towards you both wasn’t something his mind would truly register; not as you finally reached the edge of that cliff, enticing him to follow in suit as your hair swept along with the breeze before you looked back at him.

You looked so melancholy as you looked in his eyes. The dried tears sunk into the skin of your cheeks made his heart clench in pain before he finally stood beside you. His hand reaching for your face as he wiped your tears away; a gesture he would always enact for you, even in death, he would be your shoulder to lean on, to cry on, to love on, only for you.

“I will always love you, Alastor. I cannot breathe, live, or merely exist without you.” Your voice sounded so soft, so sweet as you held onto his wrist. Your words echoing through him as he registered the romanticism behind them and why you spoke them, why the two of you even made your way here in the first place. If the mob, the authorities, got ahold of either of you, Alastor would be torn away from you for the rest of his living existence.

He didn’t wish to live without you either.

And he verbalised as such. His words laced with honesty and love as he spoke words of endearment to you, telling you of his love for you, and how even in death, he will remain by your side.

Even if there would be nothing after death, you would still belong to Alastor, just as he belonged to you.

“Then, let’s leave, together.” You requested, your expression, despite being on edge from the inevitability of death that would soon embrace you, looked so content, happy in a way as you stared at him. Your hand was held out for him, waiting for him to truly show you how much he meant those words by enacting a double suicide with you.

A suicide he would grant you.

Taking your hand in his, he pulled you into his chest before he kissed you deeply with a sense of meaning, loyalty and love. To feel you kiss him back as you both stood at the edge of the cliff, a sense of sadness doused him, knowing he would never kiss you again like this, never be able to embrace you like this, and to never be by your side again like this killed him. Ironically so.

He wanted to embrace you further, to consume you further, but as the sounds of the mob became louder and louder, he reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, still embracing you before glancing at the waves pounding below.

Holding you close to him, he looked into your eyes, giving you the genuine tight lipped smile that he always did, taking in every detail of your face, memorising it before death met the two of you.

“Together, darling.”

[atxxokirina]

Pain Reliever (18+ MDNI) —

Lo'ak x Fem Na'vi reader

—𓆉

Plot: You've been working as a tent healer for nearly six months. The role had it's pros and cons, but nonetheless, you loved your job. Crafting remedies, tending to injuries- anything that was related to being there for your people, you enjoyed. Once Lo'ak comes in with a specific ache in his shoulders, you decide to help him out, and be his pain reliever

Contains: Massage gone sexual, almost caught, doggy style, Lo'ak calling reader "mama", creampie, & Lo'ak making reader use their words. Let me know if I missed anything ;)

Na'vi key/Translation: Fpomtokx - health (physical) Tewng - loincloth

It was just before eclipse. Some time after the war party had returned. Not many were injured, and the most you had to deal with was a small gash on one of the warrior's legs. As you're packing your supplies into your pouch, you're interrupted by the tall, blue figure in front of you. You look up, tilting your head with a sideways smile.

"Hi, Lo'ak." You say in a sarcastic tone, shoving a tube of lotion into the bag. "Don't get too excited," he laughs, kneeling down in front of you.

"Do you need something? If not, I'm heading home." You sighed. Standing from your position, peering down at him. "Yeah, uhm," he spoke, diagonally rubbing his shoulder blade. "I have this pain in my back, think you can help me?" He stands with you now. "I wish you'd seen me sooner." You sigh with an eye roll as he smiles at your response.

"Alright, come on." You pat the cot. "Just lay down, I'll get to you in a second." He nods, strutting over to your cot as he plops down. "Thanks, mama." Your ear twitches at the name. "U-Uh huh. No problem.." You bend over to your pouch, searching your fpomtokx oil.

You knew him calling you 'mama' probably meant nothing, but the way he said it almost made you fall to your knees. As you pull out the closed tube of oil, you make your way back over to him.

"How long has it been hurting?" You ask, dotting the liquid into your palm. Lo'ak smiles warmly as you walk over, laying down as ordered. "Maybe a day or two? But it's nothing too bad. I'm still mostly fine." He lets out a tiny sound of relief once you apply the ointment to his skin. "That feels great.." Lo'ak groans quietly.

"That's good," you clear your throat, pushing into his lower collarbone. Closely watching as he closes his eyes. You carefully listen in on his low moans, keeping an eye on the way he bites his lips. It sounds like music when it's from him. You can feel butterflies forming in your stomach, and a small pool of wetness fill your tewng. "It really helps when someone else does it." He mumbles, still in a trance.

"Yeah? Well I'm glad I could help." You smile, pressing one last time onto his shoulders before you cap the tube. Lo'ak sat up after you finished. His dark auburn eyes focused on yours.

And, fuck, he is so hot like this. His entire body oiled up, and tender.. words cannot describe how badly you wanted him in this moment.

And if the Great Mother gave you a chance, you'd suck his di-

"Everything okay?" Lo'ak tilts his head to your view, pulling you from your deep thoughts. "Y-Yes, everything's fine. Sorry," You apologize, tripping over your words. "If the pain returns, please come see me again. I'll do my best to help you." You nod.

"Mhm. Yes ma'am." Lo'ak replies. His voice raspy and husk, almost throwing you in another daydream. Just as you turn around, you feel a large set of hands pull you back. You yelp in surprise, feeling your ass press against Lo'ak's hard on. You can hear his soft chuckles. He's loving your reactions.

Lo'ak stood from his seat, pressing into you more, and his bulge is more prominent with your pussy now. Without a word, he starts to kiss your lower back, slowly caressing your skin and holding onto your waist. He whispers into your neck before gently biting your it. "Mmm.. Don't go just yet."

You almost gave in to his advances as your eyes flutter closed, until you remembered where you were.

"Lo'ak, what if someone walks in.." You quietly speak before he claws into your pelvic bone, forcing your ass to press into his dick. "Shit, mama.. you think I give a fuck about that?" He groans, dry humping you now. You feel a fire bubbling inside of you, mixed with butterflies and the pulsation of your cunt. He pulls the front of his loincloth down, his cock springing out and lightly tapping your back.

Lo'ak continues to grind his cock against you as he begins untying your loincloth. "Feel me, baby?" He huffs, desire growing by the second. Eventually, he gets your loincloth off. Pulling one last string as it instantly falls to your feet.

You let out a full moan as you felt his warm cock against your ass. He holds your waist with one hand while fisting his cock with the other, teasing your slick slit. "Uh.." You quietly mewl, leaning your head back into his shoulders. Lo'ak smirks at your submissiveness. "Mhm, that's right." Your core parts are heating up with arousal. It's useless to resist now.

You start to buck back onto his cock, sliding back and forth as he held it in place. "Oh, fuck yeah.. That's it, mama. Keep that pussy on me." Lo'ak moans. His hold on your waist only becoming more firm. You whine in response as you get completely lost in the feeling.

His mushroom-like head is prodding against your clit, pushing an addicting feeling with each tiny thrust. "Tell me what you want." He demands, swiftly moving the hand that was on your waist to your mound, ghosting his fingers over it. "Ah- I-I want you, please." You whimper.

"Mmh.." He inches his cock into you, gently parting your lips as the tip slides in. He stops once his head is submerged inside of you. "C'mon, you can do better than that. Beg harder." He demands. "Please, please, Lo'ak. Just fuck me.. I want it so bad, I need it. Make me feel good, please.." You continuously beg, and it's simply music to his ears.

"That's better." He affirms before shoving his full length inside of you. You squeal as he uses your hips as leverage, panting with each thrust. Lo'ak's motion doesn't stop, he's fucking you like his life depends on it.

"This little pussy feels so fucking good around me." He grunts with a sharp exhale, throwing down one smack to the right side of your ass. You cry out, followed by a moan. "Look at the way it bounces back for me, shit.." He chuckled.

"P-Pleaseee, Lo'ak. Don't stop!" You cried another beg. "Ah..haah!- nghhh!" The quick rythm he's obtained causes your sweet spot to coil up, you gasp and mewl at every chance you get as his cock knocks the wind out of you. "You love this dick, don't you?" He hums, slowing down and grinding his hips up into your cunt.

"M-Mhmm!" You respond, completly drunk off of him. "Nah, say you love it. I wanna hear you, mama." His thrusts come to a halt, making you whine. "No, no.. Why did you stop?" You try to fuck yourself back onto him, but he holds you in place, leaning down to your ears.

"Say it."

His voice was deep. A type of deep you couldn't resist, even if you tried. "I love your dick, Lo'ak. Ah! I love it so much. Please, keep fucking me." You whimpered. It seemed to be enough because just at that, he goes right back to pounding you into oblivion. You mewl and screw your eyes shut, practically screaming for him as his cock twitches against you, closed in by your walls. "You're gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that. Hmhng, fuck.."

You convulse. Trying your best to follow his pace as your climax approaches. "I'm gonna cum too! Oh fuck, fuck!" Lo'ak dug his nails into you, his low groans only helping your cum build up inside. "Fuck, baby. I'm c-cumming inside you.. Cum with me!" He threw his head down, pelvis hitting your ass while his warm seed filled your womb.

"Take all this cum, take it all for me, baby."

You whine as your natural liquids mix with each other, hearing it gush and seep out of you as his pulls out. "Fuck.." You sigh, immediately laying down as your legs tremble. He leant against the cot, looking down at you, his breath also absent.

"Y/n," Lo'ak starts. "I know you're tired but, we can't rest here." You mumble nonsense, far too fucked out to care about what he's saying. As he's fitting his tewng back on, he reaches down to grab your arms. "Come on, you can sleep at my—"

"Hello? Y/n? Have you seen my brother?"

All laziness jumps out of you once you hear Neteyam at your door. You shoot a concerned look toward Lo'ak as you heart pumps. He shakes his head at you, mouthing the words, "No"

You're internally freaking out. If you could ever magically disappear, now would be the time.

"Y/n, are you there? Can I come in?" Neteyam knocks again.

"No! No, he's not here." You hurriedly respond.

"Oh, well do you know where he might be?"

You look over at Lo'ak again for an answer. He shook his head. "No, Neteyam. Sorry." You gulp. "I'll let you know if I see him." You add on, a nervous laugh escaping you.

"Ah, alright. I'll see you later then." Neteyam speaks through the door one last time before hearing his footsteps fade away.

— 𓆉

A/N: hi guys, I know I've been dead for the past couple of weeks 😭 I was on somewhat of a hiatus. I've been sooo overwhelmed with all of the requests I'd gotten, (which is so stupid of me because I literally asked for them 🤨) but anyways, I'm back! And I'll be working on the requests I have currently, as well as the other fics I personally have been writing. Feel free to send requests ofc, but just know it might take me a while to write them. I love you all sm, MWAH 💙

taglist: @pandorxxx @sweethoneycn @neytirishottie @sullybrotherslover @tsireyafilms @teyamsgrl @encephalitis-on-sundays @sassypain @neon-groves @rosyjn @hidingfrommanda @whore-for-hawks @ele-sme @lowryv @teyamsatan

[the-bar-sinister]

Deicide (49946 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 13/?

Summary: In the aftermath of the raid on Onigashima everything changes. The path to the One Piece is a course that can only be charted by those who agree to join together as friends and fight without taking the easy way out.

catch up here.

-

Smoothie stood tall, one foot on the figurehead of her personal assault ship as she stared out at the sea. 

Wano was a disaster. Their mama had lost her damn mind, both figuratively and literally, regressing to a state where she could no longer properly lead her own pirate empire before being slammed into a coma that ensured she could not.

Katakuri and Pudding were still missing, the big alliance with Kaidou turned into a farce just before he too was pounded into the ground and taken off the board and the Straw Hats were still skulking about the sealed off island doing hell knows what.

It was a real failure, and one that set her blood boiling and fired up her need for a stiff drink.

���And then the fucking Marines got involved,” she hissed low under her breath. “What a pain.” 

"It could have been worse," her brother, Perospero said, leaning on the rail of the ship just below where she stood at the figurehead. "I'm not entirely sure how, but give me some time and I'm sure I can think of a way."

“Those straw hat freaks could have decided to turn around and finish us off?” Smoothie snorted “I cannot believe we lost to them…us, the sweet generals and mama’s elite!"

Pero drummed his figures on the railing. "It's like a nightmare that I can't seem to wake up from. The newspapers are calling Straw Hat and Buggy the Clown the new emperors you know. We've lost all of our status."

Smoothie’s eye twitched as she turned to look at her dear brother. “You’re kidding me, Pero. They can’t be seriously…already? So damned soon?” 

He held up the copy of the paper in his hands and unrolled it for her. Sure enough, only four days after the incident on Wano, the headline read: "Kaidou and Big Mom Toppled. New Emperors Reign Supreme."

"I wish I were joking."

Smoothie grit her teeth. 

“All of that wasted effort, and wasted life…and for what?” She reached out a long arm to slap it against the front of the paper. “For some upstart who tried to destroy our family and a goddamned clown to take it all from us.” 

He pressed the paper into her hands, shaking his head. He tugged frustratedly at the brim of his hat.

"Everything crumbled in an instant," he said. "Although…"

There was a look in Pero's eye that Smoothie knew well. It was the look he had when he was about to say something very smart, or something very stupid.

“Here we go,” she murmured as she held the paper up to the light and stared into Straw Hat Luffy’s unsettling eyes. “I’m listening, brother.” 

He met her gaze and a thin smile crawled across his sharp face. "They say when one door closes another door opens. If dear mother is no longer in a position to lead the family when she wakes up, between her mental state, the shock, and whatever else— maybe this nasty setback could be the beginning of a new era."

“You’re suggesting we take the helm while mother’s …” She glanced out in the direction Cracker’s ship had long left them by to take mother home. “indisposed?” 

"I think on a temporary basis we absolutely must take the helm," he nodded. "We can't leave the family without direction in a time of crisis, now can we?"

Smoothie’s smile crossed her face like a knife. Mother was a tyrant; killing her own children when she got into one of her moods. As loyal as she was, as dedicated, the thought had come to Smoothie’s mind more than once to slit her throat and take the reins for her beloved siblings’ sakes.

“I doubt she’ll ever return to full health, Pero.” Smoothie purred as she leaned towards him. “It may be best for the family while they’re in need to have a …stable…leadership.” 

He nodded, his smile only growing like the thin edge of a knife. "You see exactly what I mean. And this sort of thing has to be taken care of in a hurry. If we delay, there's more time for worry to grow among the family. For our contact to increase the severity of this defeat in their minds. But if we take the reins now…"

Smoothie placed a hand on his candy shoulder, a broad grin on her normally placid face. 

“Dearest brother. You really are brilliant, you know that?” She chuckled under her breath. “If we take the reins now , we can recover our strength while the family still sees themselves as strong and united.” 

He put his hand fondly on her arm in return.

"I knew I could count on you for your support, dear little sister. We'll get the situation in hand, and come out stronger than ever."

“We certainly will, Pero.” she agreed, almost continuing before the voice of another dear sibling rang out from a small mirror that the high ranking members of the family were all required to carry.

Looking into it, she saw Brulee, tugging excitedly at a lock of her lilac hair with the biggest smile she’d seen on her face in months.

“Brother, Sister!!! You won’t believe the good news!"

Pero craned to peer into the mirror his sister held. 

"I'd love to believe it, sister," he said. "What exactly is the news that's too good to be true?"

Brulee nearly seemed to be crying as she cheered. 

“Big brother Katakuri and little sister Pudding contacted us! They’re okay!”

Smoothie’s eyes widened “that…is good news. Welcome news even!” 

"Things are looking up already," Pero said, taking off his hat and slicking back his hair. "Where are they? I'm assuming they heard the news about mother dearest?"

Brulee’s smile hitched for a moment before she muttered too quiet to hear.

“Speak up, sister.” Smoothie demanded , before Brulee did with a nervous nod.

“...they’re on Germa 66’s flotilla. But they promised they’re okay! They’re not captive! They’d heard the news about mother and were trying to make sure we were okay too!” 

Pero grabbed Smoothie's hand with the mirror in it and pressed his face to the glass with sudden alarm. "They're with Germa fucking 66? You're sure they're alright? Where's their fleet, we'll change course this minute!"

“Ahhh!!” Brulee squeaked before she flashed a bright smile. “don’t worry! They’re actually headed our way now!”

Smoothie looked up, a grimace written on her face as she saw the telltale sign of masts on the horizon— too many masts— rising up like a small city on the sea.

“Damn it all to hell.” 

Pero twisted his hat in his hands. "Well, Smoothie. Are you ready for the first challenge in our leadership of the family, then?"

“You know me, Pero. The only thing I like more than a beautiful partner and a stiff drink is a challenge.” She cracked her knuckles with a wicked smile. “if Germa wants a second round…they’ll regret it.”

"Well then, Brulee. Please let Katakuri know that we'll be happy to see them— and their escort— when they arrive."

000

"I'll tell you right now," Killer said as they boarded the Kid pirates's ship– the Victoria Punk�� "I am not going to miss Wano."

Basil had his bag over his straw shoulder, hiking it up onto the ship as he took one last look out at Wano’s countryside.

“The aesthetics were nice, but I certainly won’t be missing it either. Too many bad memories.”

"If you wanna enjoy the aesthetics, we'll get a postcard before we set sail," Killer drawled, leering as he walked past him up onto the deck of the ship. He let his own bag down and took a deep breath.

Killer just shook his head at the comment. "Too many bad memories is right."

Basil laughed, shaking his head “no, I think I’ve seen enough of it for a good long while, Captain.”

He started up the gangplank with a serious smile. “I think we all have. Good riddance, I say…”

He really wouldn’t miss Wano at all. He’d been used as one of Kaidou’s attack dogs, he hadn’t exactly made connections while simultaneously losing the ones he had before he’d arrived.

Wano was a country of loss, a cursed turn of the cards that was now finally clearing off the board. 

"Good riddance," Kid agreed. "And welcome aboard, Bas. Try to remember that I'm the captain."

Kid's grin was as mean as ever, but Basil was used to it from their time as allies. He might have a reputation for hot tempered cruelty, but among friends at least, his rough manner was decidedly affectionate.

Basil held his straw hand up with a wry smile. It was admittedly one of the more charming things about the man.

“I’ll endeavor to do my best…but I can’t promise not to sit in the captain’s chair every now and again out of habit.” he joked as he finally stepped on board. 

Kid stepped over to him and put his arm around him– the weight of metal heavy but not crushing on Basil's shoulders. "Careful there. You can sit on the captain's chair, but only if I'm already in it."

Basil’s pale face turned a touch pink as he leaned into the weight of the metal against straw. 

“My, my.” he smiled up at him. “I don’t even need my cards to see what the future has in store. I’ll remember that, Captain.” 

Kid brushed the fingers of his flesh hand over Basil's cheek. "See that you do, crewman."

Behind them, Killer chuckled and started putting away supplies.

000

Carrot didn’t bring much onto the mainland of Wano, but somehow she’d wound up with more than she’d started with. New clothes from Zou’s allies, a keen edged sword from the battle itself…and a whole bundle of sweets and fresh vegetables to ask Sanji to hide for her to nibble on later.

She was just putting the finishing touches on packing away one of her new kimono when the doorway rattled open and she was surprised with a ferocious tackle hug from the captain of the Straw Hats.

With a rabbitish squeak, she stumbled forward before looping arm arm back around him and nuzzling the back of her head against his cheek “Garchu! Hey Captain!” 

"Eheheh! Hey, Carrot!" he grinned, nuzzling her back. Luffy was always just as affectionate as a member of her own race. "Packing up?"

It was probably that very quirk of his that made her so comfortable around him, enough to travel with him through the early part of the grand line after her search for a lost comrade took her far, far from Zou.

“I most certainly am! You didn’t think you were gonna leave without me, did you?” 

He poked her chest fluff soundly with the tip of his finger. "I told you I wouldn't! Did your Zou friends try to convince you to go back?"

Carrot’s smile faltered as she laughed. 

“Yeah, they did…you know they wanted to make me the King of Zou?” 

Luffy's mouth fell open as he hung on her with his arm around her. "No way, they wanted to make you the king?"

“Yeah! Crazy, right? I wasn’t even one of their top musketeers or anything. I dunno why they wanted to offer me the job instead of like, Wanda or someone.”

She pulled him closer to chew a bit on his cheek thoughtfully “Inuarashi and Nekomamushi are retiring.” she said, mid chomp “to be a part of Momo’s personal guard I guess…so they tried to get me to accept it and be their new king in their place.” 

Luffy leaned on her as she nibbled him, idly petting her hair. "Sounds like they're kind of hard up. But I'm glad you said no."

He looked at her askance. She hadn't said that she's said no. Rather, the firm tone from the captain said that he expected she'd said no. After all, she'd already promised to sail with him.

Carrot bumped his hand, nuzzling against his hand with a quiet laugh. “I actually left them a note that they’re not gonna see until I’m gone.”

She hadn’t firmly said no, or rather— she’d tried. She’d tried and the wave of ‘but Carrot we need you’ and ‘why don’t you give it a little more thought’ seemed to drown her out.

It was better this way, Carrot was a wandering swordsman, a grappler, wasn’t she? A swordsman had no place just sitting around on a throne all day.

"I knew it was a good idea to sneak out of here," Luffy said quietly, nuzzling his face into her shoulder, suddenly pensive. "I don't get why this always happens to my friends."

Carrot leaned back into him with a tilt of her head, her ears bopping the top of his head. “...geeze, it really does huh?” 

He nodded, frowning a little as he reached up and played with her ears. "Like when Vivi left. And they tried to do it to Rebecca too. And then Sanji! You're not even a princess!"

She sniffed in frustration, her ears twitching against his hands as he played with them.

“I know right? I’m just…I’m just a musketeer. And not even the only musketeer who was a Kingsbird too!” She laughed, trying to brighten the room. “Maybe all your friends are so great everyone just wants to keep ‘em?” 

It drew a smile out of him, exactly as she had hoped. "They sure are! But they can't keep them 'cause they're my friends! My crew."

He held on tighter to her, wrapping his legs around her midsection.

She loved cuddling with Luffy, it was something most humans seemed to get strange about, but never him. In times like this, when she was feeling rough, and conflicted it always helped her calm down.

“And your crew’s never gonna leave you, Captain! I promised, right? I promised you that I’d sail with you back on Thriller Bark— even if we fulfilled your part of the promise to help me check on Zou again, and find my lost comrades…I’m not gonna just leave you.” 

Luffy looked at her with the same wide, dark eyes he'd fixed on her the first time that he'd demanded she join his crew, and he smiled his wide smile again, nuzzling his head into her neck.

"Good. I'd definitely have to fight these guys over it if they tried to drag you back."

Carrot looked deep into his eyes with a warmth under her fur and the slight sting of faint tears in her eyes. 

“I know you would, Captain…you’d fight anyone who got in your way about it…” She laughed and leaned in to nuzzle her nose against his cheek. “which is EXACTLY why I wanna sneak away. Talk about a weird goodbye!” 

He giggled at the ticklish sensation and squeezed her. "Yeah, it'd be pretty weird. Nami would probably say something about making a bad impression. But I don't care."

“I…kinda don’t too.” Carrot grinned at him as she gave him an affectionate squeeze. “it’d be a little sad but…I have to draw my line in the sand someday, right?” 

"You gotta," he nodded firmly. "Oh, that reminds me. I should check on Robin, too. She said she had some stuff to do about the ponygliffs."

Carrot placed a hand atop his head with a bright smile and rustled her captain’s hair. 

“...you should. I bet she’d really like that.” She closed her eyes with a bright smile as she said in a quieter voice. “Captain…thank you for having me along. Thanks for wanting to sail with me to the end of the sea.” 

He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed them, looking at her with his intense gaze.

"I'm going to keep sailing with you even after that. Even after we run out of sea. Promise." 

000

There was something both awe-inspiring and relaxing about making rubbings of Poneglyphs…it was a preservation of history mingled with a sort of calming busywork and attention to detail that Robin thrived in.

For some time, the former King of Wano had been there with her and the pirate captain Law of the Heart Pirates. True to her word, she had copies for him and for Kid before he fully disembarked.

She smiled as she rubbed the graphite on the paper, getting the imprint of the text nice and clear. No matter how dire the past was— no matter how bad the news— it was better to know the history and adapt than to remain blind.

Maybe that was how she was able to smile despite the worrisome information she’d just received. 

When she was done, rubbings in hand, she departed the strange little shrine that held the ponegliff like a piece of another word and came back up into the daylight.

She was almost immediately nearly bowled over by her captain.

"Robin! Traffy told me you'd be here!"

She caught herself on a pair of legs that sprouted from her knees to balance her, several arms blooming as well to hug him tight as she laughed pleasantly.

“Of course he did…good. I was on my way to look for you.” 

He giggled and wrapped himself around her. "I guess I was way ahead of you! I remembered you said something about ponygliffs."

Luffy grinned broadly. Ponygliffs. Robin knew for a fact that Luffy knew what they were actually called, but he liked calling them that way.

Robin rustled his hair with an affectionate half smile. 

“I was on my way to rent one to ride around Wano.” she joked dryly.

Luffy laughed and nuzzled her hand. "I knew it. Don't bother though, I'll carry you back if you want."

“Oh my, you’ll be my ponygliff?” Robin smiled down at him. “how can I say no? It’s not as embarrassing as that docking travesty, after all.” 

He laughed again and planted his feet back on the ground. "Nope, not like that at all. Just a good old fashioned ponyback right. Ponygliff ride."

Robin chuckled obligingly and fondly, before she climbed onto his back with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I’m a little tall. Are you sure you can manage?”

He pumped his fist, showing off his– admittedly impressive– muscles. "I'm strong! there's no way I'd have a problem carrying you."

Robin kissed the top of his head. 

“Then high ho, steed.” She rested her chin on his hair after her kiss, looking out at Wano. “We’re one step closer to it, Luffy. One step closer to the secrets of the past.” 

"Yeah?" she could hear the smile in his voice as he carried her down the beaten dirt path. "That's exciting, right?"

Robin nodded against him. 

“You know it’s always been my dream. To unlock the history of the Void Century. No matter what it holds, good or bad…don’t you think it’s better to know than to be in ignorance?” 

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice soft for a moment. Hesitant. The confidence came back into it almost immediately. "But I know it's amazing because it's your dream, and I'm going to help you get there!"

Robin closed her eyes for a moment. 

“I know you will, Luffy.” she squeezed him tighter. “and when I do, I’m going to use what I learn to help you no matter what.” 

He squeezed his hands around her legs. "Thanks, Robin. Talking to you yesterday really helped get me to talk to everybody else, too..."

Robin had already been able to tell that even though he was smiling today, what they'd talked about yesterday wasn't far from his mind.

“Always, Luffy.” she lowered her head to his shoulder, looking sidelong at him. “and I know they all wish to support you too…in their own ways. I know these are troublesome times.” 

He glanced up at her as he walked. They were reaching the edge of town now.

"They are. But we'll get through them together. I know, because I have you, and the rest of my crew. Even if it turns out to be really, really hard… as long as we're together…"

Robin met his eyes with a soft smile on her normally sharp features. 

“and we’ll always be together, Luffy. Remember…” A hand bloomed to poke his nose “you promised to take responsibility.” 

"I promised," he nodded. "And I'm not going to let you down again. I'm not going to let any of my crew down."

He leaned into the hand that had bloomed, garnering funny looks from the people of Wano in the street nearby.

Robin simply smiled at them before turning her attention back to Luffy. 

“And we’re not going to let you down either. Luffy…I want to do my best to make sure you become exactly the person you want to be. No matter what.” 

"I know," he nodded. "I'm trying not to worry about the next fight. When I might be tempted to break out gear five. When I do, I'll turn to you guys instead. But– I guess, it's funny I'm worrying about it. I don't even know what the next fight will be…"

Robin’s arms bloomed to hold him at multiple angles as he walked, one’s fingers brushing his cheek. 

“It doesn’t matter what it is…another Emperor, an old enemy, a new…a god…” she cooed softly. “You won’t have to use Gear 5. We’ll fight together as a crew to make sure you don’t have to even think about using it again.” 

He nuzzled his head against her hand. "Thanks, Robin. Whenever I'm struggling, I know exactly who I can turn to. If you guys had been there. On that day… if we hadn't been separated…"

Luffy had never said it. Not all the way. But she'd heard him suppose it before. If they hadn't been separated. If they'd been there at Marineford.

Then Ace never would have died. The crisis could have been averted.

When she’d heard the news she’d cursed herself for being so far away and unable to help.

Her arms held him gently as she nodded. “I know, Luffy. We can’t change the past but…we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

His grip on her tightened. "I'm never letting you guys go again," he swore. "We're getting to the end of the grand line together. And beyond it. Just like I told Carrot."

Robin nodded against him , looking out at the Wano skyline and the bustling shops to the distant ocean beyond. “From now till the end of our era and beyond, no?” 

"And way, way beyond."

[theonehitwonder]

Short intro to some OCs I have ::3

Claude takes a sip out of his mug, leaning on the rickety railing of the back porch.

The field, he looks out on, overgrown with tall grass and wildflowers this time of year, sways gently in the spring breeze.

Something catches his eye in the night sky, though- twinkling, unusually bright. And he looks at it for a moment, before writing it off as shooting star. Nothing to worry about.

So he enjoys a few more moments of peace before thinking about going back to bed- before the noise starts.

It’s shrill and otherworldly, and it makes something in him feel anxious but it’s really quite beautiful. Like someone singing, maybe. And he looks back up at the sky, trying to figure out where it’s coming from, and-

Oh shit, the shooting star is getting closer, really closer, rapidly, and is also big- must be about the size of a table, and Claude rushes inside as he updates his internal assessment to meteor.

He watches out the window from the kitchen for a few moments with bated breath and thinking about how they’re gonna pay for the damages if it hits the house, before there’s a burst of light and what’s definitely a scream, and-

And then out in the field, there’s a crater.

And something stumbles out of it.

For a few seconds Claude is frozen, leaned over the counter in front of the window to get a closer look as he decides alien. Or, alternatively, angel.

It’s a pale, humanoid figure. Small, with red spots dotted around it’s skin, and then he rushes outside again, and-

It looks at him.

And Claude updates to child.

****

When Coretta wakes up and goes downstairs to eat breakfast, she is met with two things.

A, Claude, still in his pajamas, sitting in the living room,

And B, a girl, sitting in a scuffed up jumpsuit, also in the living room.

She’s milk pale, orange, straight hair in an orderly cut. Wide face, eyes green in a way that can only be described as unsettling. When she looks at Coretta the first thing she thinks is barbie doll.

“Claude,” She begins, “What the heck is going on?”

****

“I don’t know where she came from.” Claude mutters in a low tone, casting a glance back at the doorway that leads from the kitchen to the living room. “Like I told you- literally fell out of the sky. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Coretta sits back, chair creaking ominously. She cannot be late to work, and Collin is about to be up for school.

“She hasn’t said anything?” She asks tiredly, getting the creeping feeling that they’ve just stumbled into something that’s going to kill their insurance premiums.

“Just kinda stared at me.” He shakes his head, running his hand through his hair and leaning back on the counter. 

“Okay.” She sighs, burying her face in her hands. “Jesus. Well.” She takes a moment. They can’t miss work. They obviously can’t leave… whoever this is alone for the day.

You hear stories about this sort of thing- aliens, dropping out of the sky. Parents who take in strange babies and end up with superheroes. She’s sure it works for some people. But they have responsibilities. And lives. And already have a middle schooler. They can’t feed another person.

“Well, let’s get her some clothes that aren’t torn up.” She settles on, eventually.

****

Collin wakes up to the shrill sound of an alarm, and then lies in bed for a few  more moments before dragging himself out, shucking some jeans on and grabbing his backpack that’s slumped by the door.

It’s when he starts down the hallway that he realises something is wrong, the voices of his parents unusually quiet. It’s when he gets down the stairs he notices something is really wrong- there’s a random white girl sitting in his living room, in what looks like his Mama’s dress, the white one with the green and blue flowers printed on it. It’s too big for her.

She stares at him blankly, and, alright, Collin does the same, because he has no idea what’s going, on- before Dad pops into the living room with an equally confused look on his face.

****

Collin gets to stay home from school, is the deal. On the condition he looks over… the possible-alien that’s sitting in the living room.

And, he means, he isn’t going to turn down a chance to not go to school. And someone, apparently, has to be here.

(He’s gotta say, though, it’s kinda unnerving. The eyes set you off, you know? Almost glowing.)

So he puts some cartoons on the TV, and makes a PB&J that sits untouched in front of her. It’s just like babysitting his cousins, if his cousins were a girl his age who doesn’t talk and might be a shooting star or have laser vision. She’s kinda easier than them, in a way. Spends most of her time staring at him or the cuts in her skin with what looks like wonder. Someone should probably bandage those.

At around midday, without prompting, she goes back out to the field, the one that’s technically part of the city park, and just stares at the crater she left.

[thesxnsofdurin]

The Fate That Binds Us

CHAPTER 1 - No Chance Meeting

The breeze swept past the homes lazily as the crowds of Dale went to the market. The laughter of children running around could be heard, while parents tried to hold them back or remind them with words of safety. Beyond the walls of Dale, the kingdom of Erebor stood tall and proud, just like the dwarves within.

I laughed as I dodged the children running around, placing a hand on top of my basket ensuring that none of the produce fell. A sudden chill fell across my spine. I looked towards the mountain, where the trees were swaying wildly. My mind was full of confusion trying to figure out what was amiss; the sky was blue as ever with the sun shining brightly, but the wind was growing more and more ferocious by the second.

Then I heard it. The sound of a hurricane but with heavy thumps in a steady rhythm. Dragon. Clutching my groceries tighter, I started running home, knowing my mother was still there. The wind became unbearably dry and a shadow fell upon the city.

Then the first scream. A child, screaming in pure agony as the fire hit the city and the dragon started destroying the buildings. I dropped my groceries, now sprinting to get back home, the scorching heat of the fire burning down my back. I turn to look back and the street was in flames. Buildings toppled over muffling the cries of the inhabitants of Dale.

Pushing past stalls and abandoned carts, climbing over ruins, I tried desperately to make my way back. The screams never stopped. Families huddled together and ran, soldiers pushed past us, trying to slay the dragon and lead us to safety but it was all useless. People lay motionless on the ground, bodies aflame and crushed.

I pushed past the nausea building in my stomach as I reached the final bend. “Mama!” I screamed, my voice hoarse, as I saw her running frantically away from the fire that filled my home.

“My child, you’re safe.” She sobbed, clinging to me in relief.

“Hurry! We must get out of here.”

She shook her head in sadness. “The dragon is upon us. There’s no hope left for us.” My eyes widened in shock and disbelief was written all over my face. The tears started welling up in my eyes as they poured out of hers. “Don’t look at me like that, my child. Leave me, for I am too weak to outrun this terrible beast. I cannot let you die just because I’m too slow. Run. Save yourself while you can.” She stroked my cheek, catching the tears with her thumb, and giving me a small, reassuring smile.

I shook my head as the tears fell faster down my cheeks. “I will not leave you behind, mama. You’re coming with me, even if I have to drag you. We need to leave now.” I grabbed her arm and started running down the street. Following the small crowd, we aimed to run to the gates leading to the cliffside in hopes the dragon would leave us alone.

Smaug was hungry for death. He lit the street ahead of us with flames and knocked his body into the bell tower behind us, hoping it would bring chaos and ruin. Oh, how he was right. Time started to go by in slow motion, and my mother’s voice rang in my mind. “RUN!” she screamed as she pushed me out the way. I fell to the floor and cursed, my hands bloody and felt the scorching heat of the fire close to me. I turned back, only to be greeted with heartbreak. There lay my mother, crushed by the city bell, blood pouring out of a wound that I could not see. I rushed towards her, not caring for the dragon that had left to attack the mountain; not caring for the other families trying to escape; not caring for the others mourning their losses; not caring for my own safety.

I cupped my mother’s cheek as she lay facing the sky, pain etched into her expression. “Mama,” I whispered, hoping this was not the reality I had to live with. I knew I would outlive my mother, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. “Mama,” I cried caressing her hair and holding her tight against my body. My cries became wails as I realised that my mother would never call me her child again; never hug me so tight that I felt the weight of her love. She was gone.

My body wracked and heaved with the heavy sobs, pain filling up every scream. The desire to single-handedly kill the dragon was strong but the heartbreak was stronger.

A soft hand lay on my shoulder. I turned to the owner and pulled them into an embrace. “Father, I’m so sorry,” I wailed, the tears wetting his armour. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her.” My chest heaved with my sobs and my father’s comforting hands rubbed my back slowly.

Holding back his tears, he smoothed down my hair. “My dear child, it is not your fault. Do not despair. She may be gone, but we must leave now for we will have a fate much like hers if we stay longer. Help has come, the elves are here.” I slowly moved out of my father’s embrace and looked towards my mother for the last time. Gently, I brushed a hand over her eyes, closing them so that she could not see death and destruction any longer. My father held his hand out and I tightly grabbed it, not wanting to let go in case his fate ended up being the same as my mother’s. His elvish armour was stained with blood and I dared not to question where it came from, for I was already in pain.

Ushering me down the streets, avoiding the bodies of the fallen, we tried our best to get out of Dale. I looked around in confusion; the streets were filled with others running, but where were the elves if they had come to help? “Father, where are the elves? You said they had come to help.” I stare at him in confusion as we slowly made our way out of the gate.

“There,” he pointed. Rows of elf soldiers stood by at the command of Lord Thranduil, ruler of Mirkwood. I breathed a sigh of relief. The elves had come to help. I looked to my right where Thranduil was slowly making his way towards us. I look beyond him to the mountain. The dwarves were streaming out, trying to outrun the dragon fire. Thranduil was turning his back to them. I stared at the elvish lord in disbelief. Would he not help the people of Dale? The dwarves of Erebor? Would he so readily turn his back on these people knowing they need help?

“Tinunil,” the elvish lord spits out harshly as if the name created a poison in his heart. My father bowed to his king while I stared ahead with hatred in my eyes. “What are you doing helping this mortal? I did not give a command to help the people of Dale.”

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I could not let my child die. I have already lost my wife today. Please let me bring her back to Mirkwood so I can look after her.” My father places a hand on his chest while slowly gazing up at his ruler, silently pleading to let us leave in peace. He knew of Thranduil’s wrath and silently prayed that I would not have to endure it.

Thranduil climbed off his elk, stalking towards us, sword pointed at my father. “Your child? Your wife? You had a family with a mortal? Is this why you’ve been first to volunteer to go on the journeys to Erebor, so you could see your family?” His voice climbed with every accusatory question, sword wavering at father’s face. Father dropped his head, hoping to get a chance to explain his situation and apologise for going against his ruler.

“You have betrayed me, Mellon. You have betrayed my trust for some mere mortal.” Thranduil gave a harsh command in Sindarin and father looked at me in anguish, a quiet no escaping his lips. Elvish guards grabbed my arms, pulling me away from him. I kicked and threw my body around, in hopes that it would throw the guards off, but they did not yield.

A scream escaped my mouth as my father’s head rolled on the ground. The rest of his body fell forwards and Thranduil moved back, escaping the flow of blood that came from it. The lifeless eyes of my father stared at me as the elvish guards let go and started walking away with their king.

“Mortal,” Thranduil called out, looking back at me. My gaze raised from the floor to his, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Let this be a warning. I know not of how long you will live, but if you ever set foot in Mirkwood, you will not leave there alive.” With that, him and his soldiers stalked back to their wretched woods.

My body shoots up, sweat dripping down my forehead. My heart racing and my breath coming out in short bursts. I glance around at my candlelit room. My head leant back against the headrest, breath finally slowing down.

I’m not in Dale anymore. That was a long time ago. I’m in Bree.

I look to the bedside table on my right, staring at the contract that was sent to me, memories of the last time I was at the inn filling my mind.

Waking from a nap, I slowly look towards the window. Night had fallen. I am late. Gandalf hates it when someone is late. I quickly gather my weapons and get ready to go downstairs, silently praying that the grey wizard hadn’t arrived.

I made my way to the very heart of the inn, full of a busy crowd. I could spot the wizard from where I was standing and silently cursed myself for thinking I could take a nap and wake up on time. I made my way to the table, pushing past the tall men and drunk hobbits, only to notice a dwarf conversing with the wizard. And not just any dwarf; it was Thorin Oakenshield. The very same Thorin that I had followed when the city of Dale got destroyed, the very same dwarf who rebuilt our life in the Blue Mountains.

I cautiously made my way to the table, hoping not to intrude on a private conversation. “Gandalf, apologies, my dear wizard, for I am late. Do forgive me, I did not have a peaceful journey as I had hoped.”

“My dear Arawan, it’s so good of you to join us. Let me introduce you to Thorin Oakenshield.” His eyes had a playful glint, as he was aware that I knew the dwarf prince sitting opposite, even though he did not know me. I bow my head in respect, as he does the same.

“What business did you have for me that I had to travel all the way to Bree?” I questioned, staring at the old wizard suspiciously. This was no chance meeting, especially when the meeting involved the rightful heir of Erebor.

“I am here to recruit you for an adventure,” he says warmly. I raise my eyebrow at his words. An adventure? What adventure includes Thorin Oakenshield? “I want you to help Thorin take back the mountain of Erebor.” My whole body goes rigid and I stare at Gandalf in shock. Reclaim Erebor? Does he not realise what beast lies inside those walls? “I know how much Dale and Erebor meant to you,” Thorin throws me a suspicious glance. “To you both,” Gandalf saves, coughing on his pipe, trying to fix his mistake.

“Do you not realise that a dragon resides in that mountain? No sane being in Middle Earth would think this quest a good idea.” I sigh. So, this is what Gandalf wanted.

“As I was telling Thorin earlier, this will be no easy feat. But with my help, a good plan, and a burglar, it is possible.” My brows furrowed at burglar. What on earth is a burglar needed for? Gandalf turns to Thorin. “Send her a contract with the details of the quest. We will meet again in due time.” We both stared after the wizard as he left the inn, leaving the two of us with questions that cannot be answered.

I pick up the contract and pack my bag. I look out the window, hoping that I didn’t sleep in too much and can make it in time for the meeting. The noon sun was glaring ahead and the pale sky was clear. Birds were chirping happily, singing their merry song and the citizens of Bree were milling around.

Checking once more for any forgotten items, I think of how my life will change in the following months. Strapping on my gear, I left the warm bedroom, and left the merry inn of Bree. With where I was, I would make my way to Hobbiton by evening. Being comforted by that thought, I made my way through the throngs of people, smiling merrily at them, reminiscing of my youth in Dale.

After many hours, Hobbiton was finally in view. The sun was setting, creating a beautiful painting in the sky, which matched the mood of the evening. The air was warm with the scent of fresh flowers and the sound of birdsong. The Shire was truly beautiful. The hobbits of had already retired for dinner apart from the few that were milling around, who gave me the most curious stares.

A blue glowing mark made its way into my line of sight. Gandalf. His mark was obvious, but it lit up my path well. I silently thanked him for the mark otherwise it would have taken me much longer to find Master Baggins’ house.

I approach the green door, already feeling the warmth and hearing the laughter of the others inside. I sighed contentedly and a smile makes its way to my face. I raise my fist and knock.

****

tag list: @mrsdurin

I hope you liked the first chapter!

Sorry for any mistakes

[maximummusesarch]

[Truth serum!] The boy can't be more than four, but talks like he's six, and moves like a pinball pinging around it playfield: ping! Zip! Zoom! He skids to a stop five feet away from Erik, a little cloud of dust at his feet. Is he holding a purse over one shoulder? Yes. Also, he has a few bugs caught in his white-and-brown hair.

"Hi." Caution. Curiosity. Stranger Danger. "I'm Max." He squints, and then all at once, "my codename is Fastmanslaughter. Doyouhaveacodename?"

Ping! Zoom! Now he's behind Erik, taking an action figure out of his purse that looks like--oh, yeah, that's Tommy Shepard in his Speed uniform. "This is my cousin Tommy, exceptnotreally--" He holds up the toy, and then--zip! He's off to one side, never quite bridging the distance between them.

"Mymomsaysyou'remygrandpa. Do you know my mom? Her name's Woolfbutnotliketheanimal--"

Zip! He's very close to Eric then, his gaze wide and frank before poof! He's sitting with his legs crossed underneath him, making his action figure 'fight' with a battered Batman toy. Now, he's not even looking at him. (Pow! Pow! He cracks the plastic figures against each other.) "And! I have two sisters. Do you have any sisters?"

Zip! Where did he go?? Max... Fastmanslaughter is up in a tree, still regarding Erik with that air of wariness even if he keeps coming back. "We're all goingoutforHalloween--" His words run together like water. He's perpetual motion.

Ping! Right back to Erik, close enough to touch his hand. He stares up at him, eyes large and dark in his brown face. "What's your favorite candy? I like Snickers, but Mama says we have to be careful of the 'Big Sugar Train'. She doesn't like candy."

He holds his arms out on either side of him as if to ask, 'WHO DOESN'T LIKE CANDY?!'

As he does so, a brick falls out of his purse, very nearly landing on Erik's foot.

Finally, blessedly, he takes out the Speed action figure and holds it up almost timidly, head tilted back to look upupup at him. "You're really tall." 'Fastmanslaughter' squints against the sunlight. "Do you want to see my Speed toy?"

TRUTH SERUM TIME ! 

All of... this takes Erik back, for the first time in a long time. He can only imagine that this is what it was like to raise Pietro when he was young, and Erik finds himself glad that it wasn't him who was responsible for raising a young Pietro. He can't imagine how he could have handled Pietro even with Magda, much less as a single father.

"Max," he repeats to himself, instantly aware of where the name comes from. It's the same name his mother and father gave him. The same one he swore he would never use after the war, because it had become too painful to use it. He is glad that the name has survived in his family. His alias could use some work, though. "My name is Erik, though friend and foe alike know me as Magneto."

He strains his eyes, keeping track of his grandson. For as difficult as this is, he imagines that Pietro being able to keep up with him makes this easier. As he lists question after question, Erik knows that he cannot reasonably decipher and answer all of them, so he focuses only on what he deems as the essentials.

"I am indeed your grandfather, your father's father. And I had a sister once. She... passed, when I was young. Before you father was born." When the boy is older, Erik will show him the numbers tattooed on his arm, and explain what he has endured to make it here, and how Ruth really perished.

"I have only met your mother a few times, I'm afraid. Your father and I aren't as close as I'd like." But maybe it will change soon.

When Max pauses with the toy, Erik studies it with his eyes before gently taking it. "Thank you." Is that... when did Tommy have a toy made in his likeness?

[batzcrazy]

AND IF YOU ASKED, I'D PULL THE STARS DOWN FROM THE SKY FOR YOU

note: was thinking very hard about how much they deserved better and this appeared after i woke up. was listening to:

- stars in the sky (kid cudi), head over heels (tears for fears), good days (SZA), me and your mama (childish gambino)

pairings: anakin skywalker/padme amidala

warnings: sappy things, slight anakin bpd moments (subtle?), sad things, me wanting better for them

"Padme."

"Hm?"

"I had a dream last night," Anakin says, clumsily braiding her hair. "Where everything fell and went into ruin."

She inhales sharply when he tugs a little too hard, squeezing her pen between her fingers. The Naboo sun makes the black ink look a deep blue. Like Anakin's attire, She thinks fondly.

"Oh? That doesn't sound much like a dream."

Anakin huffs, biting his lip, "It wasn't really... But I saved you in it." His knuckles graze the back of her neck, pondering.

"And that makes it a dream?"

"Yes," He says, with a lovesick confidence she's only ever heard from him. "I saved the dream that is you."

He feels as though he owes her this, if he cannot save the rest of the universe from falling, then she can be the one thing sacred. He grows dizzy with the feeling in his chest. He wonders if she would allow him to pull her into the empty space in his chest and hold her there ― and vice versa. The tall grass around them sways gently. Padme's free hand taps the toe of his boot. He finds it a little pathetic, the way he swoons when she cranes her neck to look at him, beaming wide; His beaten and bashed in heart thumps wildly.

He's a little alarmed to find that he wouldn't mind much if everything fell as long as she was safe and here with him.

He rests his head on her shoulder, padawan braid tickling her ear. He's grown bored of braiding her hair now. His tired fingers graze hers where her free hand rests on the edge of her book. She pulls away, and for a moment he feels dejected, but instead she rests her book and pen on the grass and links their fingers together. He feels as though he's choked on syrup ― sweet and warm.

"And what of the universe?"

"And what of it?" He mumbles, feeling at ease.

"Did everything really go to ruin?"

"Yes," He answers, forgetting that part. He feels a little ashamed. "It did. Though, I don't remember all if it."

Padme hums, squeezing his hand gently, "I think you would've saved it."

Anakin makes a curious noise, tilting his head in her direction. Her fingers are soft and smooth, a stark contrast to the rough and hard texture of his. She finds that the inside of his palm still remains softer than the rest. She finds herself lamenting the day that changes. The inevitable, she supposes.

"Why? I am not yet all that powerful and I still remain a padawan."

If he sounds bitter, she doesn't comment on it.

"I suppose so," She starts, memorizing the grooves of his fingers for the days when he's gone. "But if the day ever should come, I fully believe you will be there to save what's left. You will figure it out, I'm sure. You always do."

He preens at her praise, drawing closer, but there's still a sense of unease.

"Maybe. But, what if that doesn't happen?" He murmurs, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles. "What if I am too weak? Powerless? What if the universe falls to ruin because of me?"

Padme curses those who put these thoughts in his head, wishing them nasty things only. It isn't fair to call him The Chosen One, then treat him nothing short of a cursed burden. The grass agrees with her.

"It will not. Even if it does, you will still be there to save it."

Anakin furrows his brows, frowning, "Why are you so sure?"

Padme turns to him, smiling softly, "Why are you so doubtful."

He tilts his head, and he gives her a look she's never seen before. It's blank, void of anything, no thoughts she could see behind him eyes. He looks at her like she might be crazy. Then, he smiles.

"Okay. I believe you." He doesn't.

"Good." She knows he doesn't, but this is okay for now.

A quarter of her heart is here, with her people and her duty. The rest is with Anakin Skywalker, a boy with a head too big for his shoulders and a heart too big for his chest. 10 years and there is still an unwavering powerful mystery to him. 10 years and she still doesn't fully understand his greatest pains. 10 years and she doesn't know what his favorite foods may be. 10 years and one thing she does know is that he doesn't like sand.

Anakin Skywalker, with his short, messy, dirty blonde that's beginning to grow a little past his ears. Anakin Skywalker, with his ever fluctuating moods and conflicted thoughts. Anakin Skywalker, who saves her from the world and she saves him from himself. Thoughts of the Jedi Council flash through her mind and she finds herself so angry she could cry. Anakin is already crying. She wipes his tears away with her thumbs. He kisses her fingers. Anakin Skywalker who is amazing and effortless with a lightsaber. The same one strapped to his hip. The same one that has saved her. The same one that perhaps may be there to save her again.

And she will thank him for it and hope he finally believe his worth.

The two of them lie down in the grass and dream of two things: Twins and an impending doom. For who? Doesn't matter because they are here now and in the near future. She's fallen asleep and her hair is a mess of unfinished and finished braids. He's fallen asleep and he's worried about his cloudy destiny. His fingers cramp.

Over the wind, she can faintly hear Obi-Wan's call for them. Padme wills the tall grass to hide them, if just for a moment longer. To have this now, if not ever again. Anakin tucks her closer to his chest and she knows that it is done. He gives himself to her because of course he does. He will now and forever.

The universe wails.

[flour-cloud]

Henlo fandom! Now we explore that angst situation where Alcina is drunk by a excessive amount of maiden's blood and passed out in front of Donna's door. Mention of: self-inflicted pain, blood, tortures and loss of children.

It is a cold, dark night. When that forgotten-by-Gods village had a night with a full moon and shining stars? Something that was remotely...nice? Alcina was devastated by Ethan's murder of her daughters, she managed to survive by pure accident and the basements smell so good, that place looks so inviting and tempting: darkness, loneliness, silence. Peace. A dead woman rotten to the core clearly belonged to a place with that aura. A long,red,solitary tear run from her eyes to her neck all the way down that white, burned and ripped dress she loves so much. Alcina put her head under the blood line in a tub full of sanguine Virginis than she walks out the door. That disgusting human stole the body of her angels after the fight. If the vampire had a heart she probably would ripped it off her chest. The lady of the castle try to sit on chair made of iron spines in order to feel something different. Maybe that inflicted pain is the proof she has a heart,but one that does not pump anymore. If she peeled her skin maybe she would find crystals, something more noble than that rotten corpse that she is.That numb in her mind ... she was unable to say a single word about anything. The blood she drunk is restoring her body-structures and organs, but she has no urgency of breathing. Suddenly,when the moon reveals itself trough clouds Alcina decides to stand up and drink some more. Her head only reminds her how disgraceful that behaviour is.

So Alcina walks for minutes,for hours, ignored by monsters on the streets,by animals. And she passed out in a foggy zone she does not remember .

Angie opened the door.

"Mom! That tall busty woman smalls bad! Maybe is dead! Can we use her skin? May I have her claws? We can cut them off! " suggests the creature .

It is not usual that Donna moves to the front door from her chamber and her laboratory in the house,but when Angie calls mom should be there, no? A woman passed out at her door? A tall,busty woman? Maybe Alcina? That sounds bad. She paused for a moment and she looks down at her feet the big, stained and smelling body. "Call for help,Angie " Donna decides abruptly "no,darling, you can't have claws from her,she is alive. Very alive, stinky, but alive".

A bunch of clowns and creepy broken dolls help to transport Alcina inside.

Donna is disappointed when Alcina's blood stained the elegant sofa, she scrunch her nose a bit. "Now what? I am bored,mom". "Now we wait, Angie, come here" that authoritative and quiet calls is enough for the doll to obey happily.

Alcina opens her eyes.

"What happened?"asks Donna "miss, what happened?".

"I ... Bela,Cassandra...Daniela" the vampire tried to speak with a bit of fake confidence "they are gone. My precious angels are gone" more blood more tears more stains shaking in her big, massive body.

"Ethan" Donna is clever and fast in deduction "I have to give him the second piece of that baby".

"Miranda will scold you" a fake answer to something that was not a question.

"I am not afraid of her" Donna answers "are you afraid of Mother Miranda?"

"You should. She is immortal until we gave Rose pieces" tells the vampire. Alcina breathe instinctively for a moment and she looks at the veiled woman "she took you,darling,why disrespecting her?"

"Why fight to live without hope of a win? Why to live without the ones we love? We were chosen by mother's, but we are us, we ... feel. She doesn't. I am supposed to be grateful but Mother Miranda only expanded my sorrow."

The whole debate happened trough a doll. A demonic,creepy,doll that Alcina found incredibly creepy but well preserved. The lady scans the room with the eyes able to see in the dark: well dressed dolls with perfect hair and the finest jewelry on the shelves, the flowers and the toxic flowers on the table, the finest piece of furniture. That woman shows taste in art and wood pieces. Alcina looked at her hands: pale long fingers with nails painted in black.

Donna suddenly look distressed and she disappeared in the deep of the house. The conversation was too much for her fragile mind. She need some space and Alcina was not in the mood to follow her.

Time goes by, Ethan got the baby part, but Donna is still alive. Alcina hide while all happened.

Alcina does not know why that dolls were so fascinated by her. Not only Angelica was possessed and possessive, but she started to follow her with a big scissor in her tiny hand. The woman takes her up one day:"Mom she picked me,mom!"the doll screams from the top of her lungs.

Donna remained silent.

Alcina show a vague interest in the demonic creature, but she acts sweetly when the focus is on her: someone like her cannot be bothered by a minuscule doll.

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"I want your claws! Mama does not want me to have them, but they are beautiful and sharpened!" she laughed hysterically.

"You have to listen to your mother, sweet creature" she whispered "mother knows best".

"You have daughters! I remember mama told me about them".

"I had . They were killed by Ethan". It is the first time Alcina can say it out loud, verbally. That sentence sounds unbreakable and definitive, but true.

The doll sits on her shoulder:"You are so tall madame, I can climb you. I still don't get why you choose my door to pass out a week ago".

Ah,the voices shifting, Donna is back from darkness.

"Do you want to climb me specifically, Donna,or is that a little joke from your doll?". Alcina does not have idea if she was flirty and why. The artist does not want to makes Donna close herself again inside her dark mind.

Alcina thought about the last time she met the dollmaker, that elegant, dark and melancholic figure that speaks only by her doll. In the past week she saw Beneviento dress, the creative process of her creatures. "She has daughters that will never be corrupted by Miranda" she thoughts feeling the sadness arise in her chest.

Donna in her room is sewing faster than usual. She missed a point. She is distracted, she is afraid and that sentence in mind:"Do you want to climb me?" What does that mean? That woman has no shame literally and Donna does not want to be touched by anyone. Maybe Angie could do some work with her body and that vampire was enormous. Ugh. Too much to process.

Donna Beneviento decide she should do something about the vampire question in her room downstairs.

"I am sorry for the loss you experienced " Donna declared with her firm and soft voice "I want to give you something" . The creative act is sacred to Donna, she infused the presents with magic and dark force but the looks,oh, the details, the refined painting and the matching capes. Every doll has its own blade and insects made by gemstones on the dresses.

Alcina collapsed on her knees and then looked to Donna who keep an unreadable expression under her curtain. "You should stop drink this much, madame. I cannot stay here every night of my life listening to bad jokes about sapphic sex".

Donna run away and Alcina takes two big breaths in, two out. These dolls were identical to her daughters, it was a gift by Donna , a sign of her attention to the loss and mourning the woman faced.

No, her daughters did not die forever. She takes the dolls and cuddle them, she held them onto her chest.

What was that about sapphic sex? The vampire rolled her eyes.

Also Angie climb up to her. She wants to be cuddled and hugged.

"You'll may be my new second mum if you stop scaring mama Donna" she warning the woman.

"I am not scaring your mother and I was still drunk".

"Don't try to justify yourself!" That scream again from empty lungs not used to work properly. Alcina avoided a blade from Angie. "Mom appreciated you eradicated flowers Miranda gave us. Mom wants to be happy. Mom wants to be safe ".

Alcina ripped the horrendous flowers from the house and the garden one of the morning after she get drunk. Alcina as a perfect lady was not able to keep her hands out of Donna's house that was... dirty, if she had to say kindly. The lady decided that an act of good can do better than a dozens words of wisdom.

"I did it because it was necessary: if she wanted to be freed from Miranda's power the flowers are a first step".

"Mom knows that you are kind and considerate. Sometimes. When you do not eat human flesh, she doesn't like that behaviour ".

"It is not something I decided to start: It is a consequence of the mutation Miranda induced" the vampire defends herself.

"She knows,but she does not like it anyway" replied Angie" and she also think you two have two talk when she feels better". Alcina agreed

The next monday Donna feel better to face a conversation. At 9.00 in the morning,Donna shows up at the table .

Alcina looked at her:"How are you,darling?".

"Scared" answered Donna " and tired. Do you still have some jokes about sex? I find sex repulsive".

"I find sex interesting. But I am the one here who is trivial and coarse isn't it?" She smiled " so you are interested in me but not in sexual situations. Ok" she sipped a little of blood tea.

Beneviento didn't expected that fast acceptance for her condition about their relationship. Relationship? Oh God. She looked at Alcina.

"Is that ok for you?".

"Incredibly ok" answered the vampire lady "you host me in your home, you gave me your couch and you use your magic for me without doubting a moment. If I have to renounce sex for all of this...fine. your doll is far more interesting to me than a vagina".

"Thank you". The only thing miss Beneviento was able to think about was "thank you" like a broken neon.

The vampire nodded :"yes,I know, I am fabulous and awesome and I eat human flesh but darling,I would be too perfect If I didn't. You have fetus in the hall".

"It is an allucination" said Donna but she laughed "do you like it? Sometimes I call it Roger".

"You give your hallucinations names?"asked the woman.

"They were the only thing I had before your drunk depressed night walk".

"So I did the right thing somehow" decided the brunette, happily .

"No, but I am not in the position to criticise your choices ".

"You did it right now".

"I prefer to call what I did - exposing facts-" Donna take the tea.

Alcina laughed and also Angie.

"You have very strange reaction when you are afraid. So you need another mom for Angie?"

The dollmaker was quiet for a moment:"Yes. And weren't you the one who was happy with climbing up to each other?".

Sassy. Donna Beneviento is incredibly sassy when she feel enough strength and emotional involvement with someone. Alcina loves it.

"So can I climb on you?"asked Angie to Alcina" now you are my mom!" The little doll was delighted with her new person in the house.

Alcina gave to Donna a long,intense and funny sight. The question implied is clear to them both.

Maybe Donna also needed a mom sometimes. Maybe her damaged mind blurs the lines between the affection she missed and the affection she is getting,but that's not important. She is happy again, the house is full of living presences. A vampire. Oh,the irony...

The doll hugged mom Alcina strongly.

Miranda punished Donna for the misbehaving and the Ethan question, she suffered again and she came back home struggling to breathe properly because of the tortures she faced.

Alcina preserved her and protected her till the end of their time. The explosion and the mold died was a relief to both of them. Angie was broken,but Donna opened her single eye with the face covered in blood. She snuggled into Alcina arms for a moment covering her dress with stains, the vampire cleanse the veils in a fountain and put them back on Donna's angelic face, giving her a kiss.

"Sleep,darling, you are tired" Dimitrescu murmured while caressing the hair of the other woman on her lap "sleep,I am here. We did it. Ethan won".

"I want to be drunk right know" Donna declared and gives Alcina a kiss, a long, intense blood-tasting kiss.

"Nah,darling,better this way. I am sure tomorrow you will be at work for something that can climb up to me and I have a maiden to crush".

"Probably " answered Donna "but please,do not left the couch dirty. I have only one couch" and she fall asleep after a long time, hand in hand with someone who loves.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x11)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 11: Exotic Medicines

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: high and...slutty moments?

Word Count: My heart feels so light today. And Tari is one of the reasons for this. In the sense that she is amazing and gives me hope about myself.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

A creature with the head of an unhinged raccoon and the body of a dragon lizard scuttled on the dry patch of land, looking at its surrounding with those crazy eyes and panting with the sounds that usually came out of an out of breath pug whose nose was too small to take in the precious air for that chonky body. This guy, however, was more interested in chewing on the first piece of leather it bonked against, those huffing noises making any witness feel for this miserable looking animal. The leather boot shoved the raccoozard away only to have that stubborn bastard come back for the seemingly delicious leather that was now drowned in its spit. The boot kicked it casually- and lightly- once again to move away from the ground and instead rest on the barrel. The camera focused out of the boot to show Loki having no feelings look to the little 'zard. The other camera flying low over the creature was more interested in Lulu's raised hair looking at the abomination with caution before coming to smell the poor thing that laid upside down, thanks to Loki's amazing boot skills. Lulu raised its fluffy paw in the air, taking his sweet time to tilt his head and smack the animal in its face. And much to the little fluff's surprise, the 'zard growled and hissed at him, making the fluff ball take a step back. "Hey," Loki called out for Javier, who turned the galactic go-pro in his hand towards the God, "send one of your peekers inside to see how's it going." Javier moved the camera toward him to record himself giving Loki a look of confusion.

"The cameras are not 'peekers'," he signed before shrugging, "and peeking is not ethical." "Oh," Loki raised his brows while the camera quite tactfully panned in on the tension in those exposed biceps of his arms under the black shirt. He raised his hands to sign back. "So you go ahead be 'ethical' when those witches sacrifice her for her blood. Okay?" Javier's muted gasp had more emotion than Natasha on her bloody days- pun fully intended. "You were the one who suggested the witches!!!" The hand movements got more intense by the passing minute. "I suggested them for her bloody cramps," Loki signs back, still perched on the barrel, "I don't know what happens after?!" The camera was called to zoom upon Javier's face before he facepalmed himself harder than he should have. "Most cunning God MY ASS!!" "If the two of you are going to make a ruckus here then I would suggest you leave." Both boys stood in attention while the cameras focused on the woman in her wise years standing right outside the tent. Her authoritative features on that beautiful wrinkled green skin showed no sign of remorse or acceptance for the apologies. When she turned to go inside Javier turned to Loki to sign, "But we were not even talk-" "Because I can hear your thoughts, you useless meat suits," she shouted from the inside. Loki looked down at a fluffed up Lulu and shrugged. "Witches."

The Lounge "Okay, so the trick is for you to go-" Scott raised his leg and gracefully brought it back to bend over to let his beautiful booty naturally display the trademarked 'thicc'ness - "and then jerk it back like-" he continued by giving it a pop. Once. Twice. Thrice. The camera turned away to look at Peter and Vision stare in a mixture of shock as well as delight with a synced tilt of their heads. "How did you do that?" Pretending to flick away the hair from his face as he came back up- quite seductively- he sighed. "I've had practice." The audience waited and was met with no further commentary. "Oh, okay. So, we are not discussing the...uh...practice," Peter breathed before letting his brows furrow in deep curiosity, "but how the eff do you do the-" he bent over and tried to twerk. That twerk came out more like Peter trying to force his diaphragm to push up a seed stuck in his windpipe.  Scott blinked at the effort before helplessly looking at the camera.

Scott: *clicks his tongue* White people problems. We either shake that thang like Beyonce was our mama or we bend over as if begging someone to do the Heimlich on us. *camera zooms in* There is no in-between.

"You need a lot of practice," Scott pointed at the spider boy before moving over to Vision. "And show me what you learned." Vision looked at Scott's phone and WAP started right from the build-up to the verse. The camera never went below Scott and Peter's torsos but the unprecedented shock in their popping eyeballs left a lot to the imagination. When Vision finally came back in the frame, he smiled at the two. "I feel like I could have popped my behind more." Scott and Peter blinked and felt themselves jolt at his statement. "More?!" Peter gasped. "How?!!" Scott shouted at the same time. Vision, unphased, let the music start from the top. "Like this," he added innocently and went out of the frame, leaving both the boys to find a God in their prayers to answer their questions.

Planet of the Witches Javier took the shade of the lone bush under the sweltering sun by squatting under it, all the while watching Loki's leg impatiently tap on the barrel it was resting on. And when their eyes met, the former smiled and signed something. "I'm not worried about her. I'm worried about my ears falling off from listening to Stark's babbling of 'not taking care of her daughter'. I am not her bodyguard. He should know that by now." Javier scoffed. 'Are you sure you know that by now?' Loki narrowed his eyes at him.  "You have been getting cheeky by the day, boy." "And you cannot control your grumbling clouds for a fraction of the 'kula, can you?" The eldest of the witches, a humped grandma with a river of wrinkles over her face and hands and feet, came out to glare at Loki, who got off the barrel to stand in front of her in just a pinch of guilt before his eyes were distracted by your figure coming out of the tent. Before Loki's veiled relief could say anything, grandma took her crooked walking stick and slapped Loki's shin. The tiniest whine filled with confusion to the brim escaped the raven-haired boy. "OW!" the God growled at the old woman before raising his leg to hop around in pain while you tried your best to contain the laughter bubbling inside you. "Do not come to me for help if you cannot handle a few 'kulaeg, you impatient bog!" Loki's jaw unhinged while he hopped about and you gave the camera the more delightful look.

You: *gasp and beam* never in my life I thought I would see Loki stagger like that. That too by a five hundred-year-old alien lady!! *screeches* I love space! *shimmy your shoulders*

"I didn't even do anything this time?!!" Loki thundered, finally putting his foot on the ground. "Wait," you raised a finger in anticipation and confusion, "this time?" Grandma tapped her stick hard into the rocky ground. "Be thankful it's not a yank in your nethers for kidnapping my Logo last time." Your muted gasp grew wider, and the camera panned in when you stood in the middle of the two. "You kidnapped her Logo?" You whispered with elation. "Your Logo did not want to be kidnapped?" You tried hard to restrain the chortle in your voice before trying to come back to a straight face. The camera panned in on your face to catch you whisper, "I don't even know what a Logo is!" right into the lens. "I feel like there's a lot to unpack here. Grandmama, tell me everything this stupid ass has ever done!" Loki didn't seem to like the idea. "What is your problem, Se'tiri? You hit me even when I don't do anything wrong?! Every! Single! Time!" Se'tiri narrowed her eyes at the God, not letting her little body be intimidated by the six-foot tall creature. "You have one those faces, boy. Ones that are asking to be hit because they do not know what manners are." "Oh, dang," you whisper to the camera and secretly praise this alien grandma's spirit. "Fine, I'll never come here, ever again," Loki huffs, grabbing your hand to leave in a two-second surprise state, "come on, Y/N, let's go." "That's what you said last time you blue seaweed," Se'tiri shouted in her raspy voice, "make sure to remember this time! And take those damned bao-bao I made you and your friends, you giant slug!" Leaving your hand for a moment- that seemed to bring a microsecond of mellow sadness over your face- Loki smoothly turned a one-eighty to go inside the tent and bring with him a bento wrapped in blue fabric, grabbed your hand again and gave a stink eye to the woman. "I am taking these bao-bao with me, you rotten hag! And I will come whenever I please!" "You better come with some fucking bao-bao material or I'll not make more for you!" she yelled. Loki was already walking away with you by his side. "You will make me more because I am the only one who eats these stinky buns!!! Come on Lulu!" he yelled back, making the camera focus on Lulu standing upright, both excited and confused with something thin and long hanging from his mouth before he sucked it in and ran behind you two. The raccoon thing was nowhere to be seen.

The Lounge "You guys are the f***ing nuts!" Sam announced as the camera panned out to show Scott, Vision and Peter sitting on the sofa. Two of them had pouty faces while one was enchanted by the Falcon. A good moment of silence passed with Sam's firm expression before he finally spoke again. "You have to move your hips in a way to not hurt your lower back. And you have to split without hurting your nuts!" Both Scott and Peter winced at the memory and brought their ice packs closer to their crotch. "Now, watch...and learn." Sam gave one quick look to Vision and the AI automatically turned on the music for Sam to manoeuvre his body to the beats with the rigidity of water. And before anyone knew it, he was making a one-eighty with his leg to open it into a perfect split before popping that booty thrice for a perfect finish. The camera panned out to zoom in at the faces of equally bewildered and impressed Steve and Bucky standing at the entrance of the Lounge holding hands. "Should we...ask?" Steve wondered to his partner, his eyes still glued to the man of many talents. "Do we have to?" Bucky added.

Bucky: *in all his seriousness* We have to. I need to learn how to do that perfect split but I will cut my own veins before asking Sam for tutoring me.

Away From the Witches "All the weirdness aside because I know it comes from the insecurity in your past relationships of being not loved enough to trust another person, I have to say you and Grandmama Se'tiri really care about each other." The camera was stuck in one frame- on your head resting on your hand while your gaze was stuck on the God pretending to brood while eating the purple coloured buns the old witch had made for him. A quick glance from him at you from the corner of his eye and he was already turning his eyes towards you to question that softness stuck in your eyes while you looked at him. Not to mention your smile. "Stop looking at me like that," he muttered with his mouth half full. "Fuck you, I won't," you giggled lightly, getting a raised brow from Loki. "How the fuck can someone look so cute while eating? Why are you looking so good while eating?" Loki had to stop chewing and look at you for a few moments in keen observation. Or judgment. Or both. "What did they do to you in there?" It was your turn to sit straight in this weird open buggy floating between two alien rhinos as they languidly strolled over the deserted part of the planet. "They squeezed all that painful shit out of me," you inhaled. "Like I could feel my uterus squeeze and let the walls out from inside me, the blood, the gooey stuff, all of it. It hurt a bit at the beginning like every other time but once Grandamama and her sisters started chanting, it was all gone," you concluded with a smile. "Even though the goo was still coming out of my vagina." Lulu's camera caught the reasonable blankness on Javier and Loki's face before both of them put the buns down and tried their best to blink away the pictures you had so patiently put inside their heads. You, still perched with your head on your palm, smiled at the boys. "Should've left the bun for after the icky bloody part. Is it weird I can still smell the blood? Just like that bloody stench you get when you dump your menstrual cup down the drain during a shower and watch all that blood go down imagining you just murdered someone and are reminiscing the entire thing." Loki looked at the camera with newfound confused horror in his eyes.

Loki: Remind me to never piss her off during her bloody days. *inhales* Also remind me to make Clint and Steve piss her off on her bloody days *smirks and raises his brows suggestively at the camera*

"Oh! And she even gave me candy!" You nearly shout, going for the little backpack and unzipping it take out a blue plastic looking bag which looked like something straight out of your younger sister's newly opened business with much effort given to the packaging and the brand. An outline of a herb adorned the logo while a few imprints of languages unknown to you were written below it. "And I am not sharing it with anyone." Loki scoffed, looking at you while slowly putting the delicious-looking bao-bao in his mouth, making you wrinkle your nose before opening your own collection of fluffy marshmallow-like collection and putting one in your mouth. "Oh dang! It's cheesy!" You babbled through your full mouth, gasping with a sudden revelation. "Ooooh!! And spicy!" Loki chuckled and turned his whole body towards you. "Oh come on now, Y/N. You don't have to pretend to give your little trinkets flavours to tease..." His voice drowned when his sight apparently fell on the packet you were holding while gobbling down your second treat. "This one's minty," you added with a wiggle of your brows and a huge smile on your face. "...me," he barely whispered, his attention only on the packet with his eyes narrowing on the foreign words written over it. The bun resting in Loki's hand dropped into his lap for Lulu to make it disappear within less than a second. Loki's hand came for the packet but your reflexes were too good today to let him lay his claws on it. "Oh you aren't getting any," you gasped at his audacity. "I don't want to ea-" Loki snapped himself and moved his hand towards the packet- "let me see the packet." Silence. "Y/N." Your hand went inside the packet for another snack. "Y/N," he called out sweetly with a hint of caution. You popped the little ball of crunch in your mouth. He leapt halfway towards the packet, his hand reaching and almost grabbing your newfound treasure. "Stay. Away," you command with your eyes. "I just want to see the pack-" he leapt again and this time grabbed your back instead while the snacks were raised away from him. "Really?" "You're not getting any!" Loki was lying over your now. Both of you were grunting and squirming; Loki trying to lock his arms around your waist to push you down while you anchored your free hand on the edge of the floating buggy. "Give me the packet!" He roared. "No!" You growled back and hissed at him without turning around to look at his frustration lines. The God locked his legs around yours, using his one arm to restrain your waist and the other to tickle your armpit long enough to make you howl in a burst of laughter that ended with a blood-curdling sigh when he finally got the packet in his hand. "Aha!" He exclaimed, still not letting you go. "I hate you!" You wiggled inside his hold that didn't seem to work him much. "Why do you have to be so FUCKING strong!!" But Loki had all his attention on the package by now. His glow of victory faded as fast as it came when his eyes went over the print, the shades turning from a subtle shade of confusion to a much denser stroke of fear. "Wha-no...no!" Loki looked at your scowling face cursing him left and right. "How many have you eaten?" "Oh screw you!" "Y/N! How many have you eaten?!!!" All the rage in your pupils melted into full-blown innocent kitten eyes. "A few," you whispered. Loki- his lips parted in question with the nearest star hitting his pale face from the side to let his green eyes glow with the reflection coming from your white tank top- tilted his head to judge you with a raised brow. Your lips parted just like his but in heavy bewilderment of the sorts that one does not usually let out before turning to share a look with a camera.

You: *tilt head* was he always this...poetically beautiful?

You mumbled something under your breath with your eyes darting away from his face. "Y/N." "I said I had some at grandmama's place." A muted yet sophisticated gasp came out of Loki's mouth. "How many exactly?" "....Six or seve-" "We can still fix this-" "-teen?" Any hope bubbling in the God's eyes suddenly evaporated when he looked into a camera with a newfound fear.

Loki: This candy *raises the packet to show to the camera* is a sort of soother. It releases the tension in your muscles and helps in better blood circulation along with improving focus, increasing the stamina and...making everything quite...brighter? *sucks on his teeth* *looks at his feet while still holding the packet in frame* All of this happens when you consume two candies. *camera pans in on the artificial smile on Loki's face as he looks back at the lens* *whispers with a strain in his voice* she's had seventeen.

WAP Boys The flatscreen showed Loki gasping in sheer horror while the mute icon activated right over his disparate shade of horror as compared to your confused one. The same camera shifted from the huge screen towards the group gathered in the lounge, trying to figure out who did it. Scott, Peter and Sam were busy teaching Bucky and Steve while Vision made everyone some fizzy lemonade. Wanda searched for the WAP dance videos online while Natasha sat on the sofa- closest to the screen- making videos of the boys. For a second she revered her eyes from the screen to look at the camera sideways. A fleeting second, a straight face and the single silent entity in the chaos was all it took for the Black Widow to blink at the camera before going back to her phone. "There is no way I can do tha-" Steve was trying his best with his hands raised up to his chest in defeat. "Oh, come on, Cap," Scott begged, "you don't even have to do much. You just wiggle a little and your beautiful bouncy ass will do the rest of the work." Steve started to speak but stopped to give a hyperexcited Scott an expression filled with so many questions. "Word," Sam chimed in from behind Steve before gulping down his share of lemonade as he walked towards the sofa, getting a frown from Steve as a response. "Amen," Bucky announced whilst looking at the camera with a nascent smirk as he sipped his lemonade, at the same time trying to push his hair back. The 'really, Bucky?' look on Steve's face was a sweet bonus to already blushing owner of America's ass. "What the hell is happening?!" The unprecedented surprise in the familiar voice put everyone's metaphorical tails into one collective bushy goosebump. All the cameras shifted to a stunned yet stoic Tony Stark standing by the entrance of the lounge while everyone else tried to calm their heartbeats and look for an explanation.

Scott: I actually thought I was gonna get kicked out and so *shrugs*

"He did that!" Scott blurted out while pointing at the empty loveseat. Tony narrowed his eyes at him and the poor Antman found himself at a loss of words. "We were-" Steve paused for a second to give a quick look at everyone's faces before scratching an itch behind his ear- "learning a...a new dance?" "..." "It's the WAP!" Peter acknowledged with quite the enthusiasm till the wide cautious eyes of three people standing around him made him realise what he had just said.

Scott: *breathing into a paper bag* Oh crap! I am definitely dead today. Stark's gonna kill me for ruining his precious baby!!

"You all-" Tony at everyone in the room- "are learning the WAP while I get the news about a deadly virus taking over the world." "What?" There are muffled gasps and confused looks shared before everyone gets serious.

"It's a flu. The scientists are calling it Covid. Dr Cho, Bruce and Shuri are working on the cure," "Who's behind this?" Steve's persona did a complete one-eighty. "Hydra?" "The Neo-Nazis?" "Oh! Illuminati?" "Apparently, it has originated from 'bats'. The Wakandans have a lead on the 'bats'." "Okay, everyone," Steve announced, "let's suit up!" "Woah! Woah-ho-hooo!" The camera panned in on Tony's posture that clearly said 'nobody's going anywhere'. "Where do you think you're going?" Silence. Everyone looked at Steve for an answer. "To find the root of this virus." Tony took a step forward, his head already held high as usual. "Not before I win the WAP." Scott's jaw dropped to the floor, him and the camera looking at each other at the same instant. On the other side, Natasha- lying on the sofa- scrolled through her phone. "Okoye has already taken care of the 'root cause', hasn't she?" she nudged Tony. He didn't answer that. For a few seconds. "Doesn't matter. I can still wipe the floor with his ass. With all your asses." "Okay okay okay okay okay-" Sam nodded, enjoying the playful tension between the boys. "It's on. It is on!" The camera shifted to Natasha, who was still sprawled upon the sofa, smirking at her phone. "Perfect timing," she commented with a wink before opening her phone's camera to start recording.

In the alien Buggy "IIIII Loooove you BABAYYYYY. And if it's quite ALRIGHT!! I neeeed you BABAYYYY to warm these lonely NIGHTS!!!! OH PRETTY BA-" The singing continued in the background while Loki sat defeated on the floating vehicle, focusing on anything but that singing. His lips ran in a thin line, really telling the spectator the limit of his patience. The tension was boiling in his muscles and yet he did not move an inch, just waiting patiently. "Oh my God Loki?" You sat up in a daze behind him, your mouth agape with disappointed horror. "We have been together all this time but you got your hair conditioned! And not mine?!!" Loki's palm tried its best to rub some of his own disappointment off his face. "I thought we were best friends," you whimpered with betrayal in your already watering eyes. The camera focused on Loki shifting as he went for his bag to take out a bottle of water and a small green sachet. His eyes were on the camera when he asserted ever so sweetly, "of course, we are friends, Y/N. And I'll tell you where I got my hair conditioned-" he opened the sachet and mixed the herb-like contents in the water- "but first you need to drink some water." The camera panned out to show you running on the rough terrain away from the alien buggy- while Loki kept talking to himself- hopping in excitement at intervals.  "It will hydrate you and flush out those undesirable dru-" The d-word hung in the air when Loki found the space behind him empty. "Y/N?" He questioned in a tender tone, quite probably wondering you were hiding somewhere. The second time your name came out in urgency when he looked at Javier and Lulu sitting there in confusion. The third time he hopped down the moving vehicle- which, to be fair, moved at a turtle's pace- and looked underneath the levitating body. There was no fourth time. He just looked at Javier and Lulu, who turned to look in the direction you had dashed in. "Why didn't you stop her?!" Loki was restraining the anger so hard. "Oh, what do you mean neither of you can speak!!" By this time, Loki's heart was in his mouth, he was sweating and his breaths were shallow. Javier whistled at the rhino-like aliens pulling their buddy to stop. Getting down, he set his camera to Loki's side profile, conscious to maintain a safe distance from an untethered God. Licking his lips, he shut his mouth and took one deep breath with his eyes closed. The nearest star helped with its bright rays to let the audience know the clench of his jaw was an intense one. Opening his eyes, there was only one emotion that was visible on his entire being. "Fuck."

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clan Part 3! @scentedcandlecryptid @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz

Splinter was pacing. His paws were folded behind his back and his ears on a constant swivel as he listened for the telltale clip-clopping of Baron Draxum’s approaching hooves. He had called the aggravating yokai over an hour ago and still there was no sign of the faun! Draxum was always tardy, but Splinter assumed that he would be able to hear just how important a situation was at hand and hurry! A fortnight— only two weeks— and he was going to waste half of it just waiting for this ignorant little—

“I’m here.” Draxum’s raspy voice sounded down the tunnel. “I’m here, don’t get your tail in a twist.”

Splinter turned quickly. He hadn’t even heard the creature approach! Draxum, for all his skill and prowess, was never very adept at sneaking up on people. He had only been there a few seconds and already he looked bored out of his mind, long red robes draped over his tall frame, obscuring muscle and bone plates from sight and casting a doubt upon just how powerful the yokai truly was.

“Draxum!” Splinter skittered over to Draxum and the yokai sighed and leaned down before Splinter could ask him to, “What took you so long?”

“I had to finish up my shift, I can’t just leave early!” Draxum stuck his nose in the air with a scoff, “I have perfect attendance! Besides, whenever you sound urgent, I make an attempt to draw out your suffering as long as possible.”

Splinter growled and stomped his foot like a furious child might. “BARON DRAXUM THIS IS A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH!”

Draxum only smiled and rolled his eyes. “Oh joy. Pray tell, is it your death that I have to look forward to?”

“Would you cut it with the passive aggressive comments Draxum?! I just got a warning from my mother!”

“Your mother?” Draxum asked slowly.

“Yes.”

Draxum frowned and stood up straight, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Your... dead mother.”

Splinter growled, his ears flattening and hackles raising. “I’M AWARE SHE IS DEAD BUT IF YOU JUST LET ME TALK, I WILL EXPLAIN!”

Draxum hardly reacted to the scolding beyond a roll of his eyes. “Well, I’m not stopping you. Go ahead.”

As calmly as he could manage while suppressing the urge to strangle the frustrating yokai, Splinter quickly explained the events of the day. Draxum was surprisingly silent during the exchange; beyond the odd question or request for clarification, he didn't say anything. When Splinter concluded, Draxum lowered his head in a solemn understanding.

“This is most troubling. Do your sons know?”

Splinter shook his head. “I… felt like I needed to talk it over with someone else before I tell them about it, and you’re the only other adult who I know that wouldn’t run screaming in terror.”

“Mm.” Draxum closed his eyes as he considered, “You must tell them. Whatever this curse she speaks of is, it will affect all of us. Not me, of course, but still.” Draxum laughed and put a hand to his chest.

Splinter growled, but agitation was quick to give way to a soft concern. “But… sending them into danger so soon after they just defeated the Shredder? They’re still celebrating, it seems almost criminal!”

“They are smart, and they will understand.” Draxum said lowly, “And after they claim victory, because they will, then they will have even more to celebrate.”

“You don’t know my sons like I do! They don’t do well under deadlines or pressure!” Splinter whined, folding his paws behind his back as he began to pace his anxiety out.

“I know your sons are strong and smart and skilled, and I know that even when they doubt themselves, they always come out as victorious in the end. They get it from their father.”

Splinter stopped and looked up at Draxum. “Was… that a compliment?”

Draxum cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter, holding his head high and refusing to look at Splinter. “Perhaps.”

“Aw.” Splinter couldn’t help but smile, “Draxum—“

“Run along now!” Draxum shooed Splinter away quickly, “Go tell your sons!”

“I…” Splinter searched for any other excuse. “It is rather early…”

“Yoshi.”

“They don’t usually wake until at least four pm…”

“Yoshi.” Draxum sounded more serious this time.

“Fine, fine!” Splinter growled, “I’m sorry I don’t like burdening my young sons with traumatizing and life-altering experiences on a weekly basis, BARON DRAXUM!”

Draxum laughed. “Why not? It makes their lives rather entertaining; don’t you think?”

“I just…” Splinter shook his head, anger once more quickly turning to a resigned sadness, “Didn't want this kind of life for them. I wanted them to be happy and make friends and live long, healthy lives! Not send them into battle any time the world may be in danger. I mean, what if mama was wrong?”

“What are the chances of that?” Draxum asked.

“Very… very small.” Splinter sighed and slumped, sliding down the wall and stopping once he reached the floor to rest his head in his paws. “Please… please just let them have the day to rest. They deserve to rest!”

“It is not up to me.” Draxum said simply, “If you want them to rest, then let them rest. But I would advise you get your affairs in order so you can be ready for when they wake and not waste such valuable time.”

Splinter sniffled and looked up at Draxum.

“Don’t be so pathetic, Yoshi.” Draxum huffed. “You are a strong master! You escaped my clutches more times than I could count on both hands! Your sons even more! Though you may have lost your hunger for fighting, your sons only grow hungrier for it every day. You cannot starve them of what they hunger for!”

“But I can stop them from getting a bellyache.” Splinter answered back, “That’s what parents are meant to do. I will take the rest of the day, as you suggested, to try and figure out a way to move forward. And when my sons rise tonight, I shall tell them.”

Splinter kept to his promise. He delayed himself longer than he wanted to, allowing his sons the time to eat their breakfast and chatter away for almost an hour before he finally called them all to attention and told them what he knew. With each word, Splinter felt more and more guilty until he had finally caught them up.

“I am so… so sorry I must ask this of you, my sons.” Splinter was almost crying by that point.

The first one to move from their silent and stunned stupor was Leonardo, who got up from his seat to walk over and take his father’s head in his hands. He forced the rat to look up at him. Splinter and Leonardo’s eyes met for a long minute before Leonardo pulled Splinter into a tight, crushing hug. Splinter returned the hug on instinct, his mind still numb and buzzing with the sudden affection. Leonardo laid his head on Splinter’s shoulder.

“We won’t let you down. I promise.”

“You’re not mad…?” Splinter asked with a weak laugh.

“Why would we be mad?” Leonardo laughed as he pulled away to look at Splinter again.

“The only mild annoyance is not knowing where to start.” Donatello said with a long yawn before sighing and resting his chin on his hand.

“Uh… actually.” Splinter cleared his throat. “I took the chance to get that all arranged for you boys. I… called some old friends of mine, and one of them believes that he might know where to begin. He’s human, I think, but he’s knowledgeable of all things mystic and magic around the globe. Even if he is an insufferable piece of—“

“I didn't know you were still friends with any humans!” Michelangelo squeaked happily.

“Well, I haven’t talked to him since you boys were tots. You met him once, but you were so young that I doubt you will remember. He… has kept a close eye on you boys for quite some time, and he was very impressed with your latest victory with Shredder.”

“He knows about that?” Donatello asked, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Yes. He is very… up to date with current events.” Splinter cleared his throat, “He has arranged a private escort to take us to him in an hour.”

“Private escort, fancy~!” Leonardo churred.

“Yes, very.” Splinter grunted, “So you boys to shoo and go get ready, there is no time to waste! Go go go!”

Splinter ushered the boys away with waves of his paws, forcing them out of the room.

“You’re coming with us, right dad?” Michelangelo asked.

Splinter didn't know how to react, so he settled for, “We will see.”

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Fresh Start - Prologue

Ethan x MC

Summary: After going through her own personal trauma, Dr. Naomi Valentine packs up and sets her sights on Boston. But a new job in a new city comes with its own set of challenges and drama.

A/N: I honestly have no idea why this plot popped into my head, but where we are. Part of this chapter borrows from Ethan and MC’s very first encounter in chapter 1, with some very minor tweaks.

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. And enjoy!

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @mal-volaris @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartwriting @mvalentine @nooruleman 

~v~

Don’t get married at 19, they said. Don’t spend the best years of your life tied down to someone else, they said. This will be the biggest mistake of your life, they said.

They were all right.

If you would’ve told Naomi that her husband of 9 years was going to cheat on her with his receptionist and knock her up, she would’ve laughed. But fate laughed harder.

She’s Naomi freaking Valentine – thank God she never changed her last name. She’s brilliant, she’s an attending at one of the best hospitals in Washington D.C, and she comes from one of the most prominent families in this city, but none of that even matters. Because it’s Friday night and she’s currently at home, watching trashy television, crying into her couch cushion.

At first there was the unbridled rage that threatened to consume her from the inside out. Leading up to the divorce, she felt like she was always on the brink of exploding. She wanted to kill her husband, his stupid mistress, his slimy divorce attorney, and anyone else who dared cross her path.

But now that the divorce papers are signed, now that all of the air has been deflated from her, all she feels is overwhelming sadness.

Divorce sucks. It’s a pretty well known fact, but everyone else feeling the same way doesn’t negate her feelings. She’d rather get split down the middle and turned inside out than ever go through something like this ever again. She’s strong, but she’s not strong enough to endure this type of battle more than once.

She’s too wrapped up in her own feelings, she doesn’t notice the front door of her condo opening and closing. But the sound of heels clinking against her wood floors is enough to pull her out of her own thoughts.

“You weren’t answering my calls, darling.”

The vivacious voice of Dorinda Valentine booms throughout the condo. Naomi looks up and sees her mother standing a few feet away. She has Tupperware in her hands.

“Yeah, I turned my phone off.”

“I figured.”

“What’s in the Tupperware, mama?”

“I made you some chicken stir fry. I think it’s safe to assume you haven’t eaten anything today.”

It’s a correct assumption. On any other day, Naomi would devour anything her mother put in front of her face, but now, the thought of food makes her stomach turn.

She shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.”

“You’re a doctor, Naomi, you know better than anyone that you should be eating.” Dorinda stares at the tall bottle of vodka on the coffee table. “And just because vodka is made from potatoes, it still doesn’t count.”

Naomi doesn’t respond. She just turns her head and burrows further into the couch.

Dorinda stands there for a few moments, observing her daughter. It’s a depressing sight, one she isn’t used to. If she could take the pain from Naomi and somehow transfer it to herself, Dorinda would do it in a heartbeat.

“Okay.” Dorinda drops her purse to the floor and sets the containers down on the coffee table. She walks to the couch. Grabbing Naomi by the shoulder, she roughly yanks the younger woman. Naomi rolls over and drops to the ground with a thud.

“Mom!” Naomi looks at her mom with a scowl. “Why did you do that?”

“It’s been 2 weeks since you and Daniel signed the divorce papers. I have given you plenty of space and opportunity to mope around in the dark, but I think it’s time for the pity party to end.”

“2 weeks is not nearly enough time to simply get over the past 9 years.” Naomi argues as she stands up and dusts herself off. 

“I know you’re hurt–”

“No offense, but you and daddy have been married for thirty years, and last time I checked, I don’t have any half siblings conceived within that time, so you cannot fathom my hurt, so you can just skip over any platitudes that might be brewing.”

Dorinda raises an eyebrow. “You’re upset, so I’m going to ignore your wildly inappropriate and condescending tone, and give you a one time pass.”

“I’m sorry,” Naomi murmurs, flopping back down on her couch. She averts her mother’s gaze because she can feel the older woman staring daggers at her. “I’m just very...out of sorts these days, like I’ve been hit by a bus and then put on a rollercoaster.”

“Now I may not understand divorce, but I can empathize with what you’re feeling.” Dorinda sits down next to Naomi.

“I know everyone thought I was crazy to marry Daniel in the first place, and I’m so sure there's no love lost on your part, but I really went into this with the best intentions. And I thought he did too.”

Dorinda runs her thumb across Naomi’s cheek, collecting a falling tear. “People suck, and life is full of crappy people who do crappy things. And I’m sorry that you had to be a victim to one of them.”

Naomi chuckles humorlessly. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I’m sure it feels like the easiest thing in the world to curl into a ball and stay holed up in this apartment, but you are so much stronger than that. And Daniel Thompson does not deserve the right to reduce you to this. If you want to mope on this couch for the rest of your life, then you do it on your own accord, not because of him. But in my personal opinion, I think you’re too wonderful to become a piece of furniture.”

“What do you suppose I do?” Naomi challenges with a shrug. “I don’t how to do anything other than be his wife.”

“Well, that’s not true at all. But first, you’re going to take a shower, crack open a window to let some fresh air in, and then you’re going to do something that helps you vent. Rip a pillow, scream, scratch Daniel’s face out of his pictures, whatever you want. And then you and I are going to sit on this couch and have a very good cry. And I mean an all out, snotty nose, puffy eyes, sore throat type of cry.”

Getting off of this couch sounds like a feat within itself, one that Naomi doesn’t know if she has the strength or energy to do.

“That’s the first step,” Dorinda says, playing with a strand of Naomi’s hair. “That’s the hard part, but once you do that, I promise it gets easier. You just have to trust yourself and put one foot in front of the other, okay?”

A heavy silence falls on the room and Dorinda waits on bated breath for her daughter to respond. She’s never seen Naomi like this, the life completely drained out of her.

Naomi’s voice comes out small and unrecognizable, but she answers nonetheless. “Okay.”

~v~

One month passes and things finally start progressing for Naomi. She won’t say her life is back to normal, but she’s no longer glued to her couch, so her family considers it a win.

It’s a nice day, so Dorinda forces her to leave the comfort of her apartment and spend the day with her family.

“One of your father’s friends is coming over, so be nice,” Dorinda scolds, passing her daughter a handful of silverware so they can set the dinner table.

“Oh God, mom if this is some politician asking for a donation, I can’t–”

“No politicians,” Dorinda interjects. “Naveen is in Baltimore for a few days, so we invited him to have dinner with us.”

Dr. Naveen Banerji has been friends with Naomi’s dad for as long as she can remember. While Naveen was doing his residency at Sinai Hospital in Baltimore, Steven Valentine came in for a broken arm, and they’ve been close friends ever since, even when Naveen had to move to Boston.

Naomi adores the older man, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s one of the best doctors in the country.

“Why didn’t you just lead with that?” Naomi asks.

Dorinda shrugs. “I wanted to see if you could leave that apartment of yours without external motivation.”

“And I did,” Naomi says. “I want a medal.”

“And I want a private island somewhere in the Caribbean.”

There’s a knock at the door that startles them out of their banter. Before either one of them can reach the door, Naomi’s dad beats them to it.

“Naveen, you old man!” Steven greets. “How are you?”

“If I’m old, you’re ancient!” Naveen shoots back with a chuckle. His eyes fall on Dorinda and Naomi, who have joined them in the foyer. “Dorinda! You’re as lovely as ever.”

“Naveen, it’s so wonderful to see you again.”

“And Naomi, I haven’t seen you since your med school graduation.” Naveen sizes her younger before hugging her. “Gosh, I can’t believe you’re so grown up now. What happened to the little 5 year old who used to quiz me on the periodic table?”

“Hi, Naveen,” Naomi greets brightly.

“It smells delicious in here. Don’t tell me you made a huge fuss over me, Dorinda.”

“What? It’s not every day we get to see you.” Dorinda takes Naveen’s coat. “Go sit down, you’re here just in time. Dinner will be out in 10 minutes, tops.”

It doesn’t even take that long, and soon the Valentine family plus Naveen are all gathered around the dining room table, passing around bowls and platters of food.

“So Naveen, I heard you got a promotion recently and you’re now the Chief of Medicine at Edenbrook.”

“Yeah, my days of practicing are over.”

“Do you like the job?” Naomi asks.

Naveen nods. “I love it. I have more free time, which is a plus. And there’s still so much to do, so it fuels the adrenaline junky in me. What about you, Dr. Valentine?” He smiles. “What’s it like being an attending?”

“Demanding,” Naomi answers.

“Any interesting cases recently?”

“No.” Naomi‘s girl scrapes across her plate as she awkwardly shuffles her food around. “I, uh...I’m on a personal leave right now. I haven’t been to the hospital in weeks.”

Naveen knows all about the nasty divorce, so he nods sympathetically and doesn’t press the subject. “You were chief resident last year, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She’s being modest,” Dorinda says. “She was at the top of her cohort.”

“Of course she was.” Naveen takes a sip of his drink, but his eyes are still trained on Naomi, wheels turning. “How do you like the hospital you’re working at?”

“It’s good.”

“Do you think that it’s the best fit for you? Are you being pushed to your limits? Are your superiors still checking in with you? You’re an attending now, but they should still care about your development.”

Naomi feels overwhelmed by the onslaught of questions. What is this, a job interview?

“Slow down Naveen, what’s with the interrogation?”

“What? I care about you, and I care about your potential. I just hope it’s not being wasted.”

“It’s not,” Naomi assures him.

“You know, there will always be a standing invitation for you to join the team at Edenbrook,” Naveen tells her.

A wide grin forms on Dorinda’s face and before Naomi can respond, she does. “She accepts!”

And that’s when the lightbulb turns on above Naomi’s head. She glances from Naveen to her parents. “Did you guys set this up?”

Naveen raises an eyebrow at the question. “What do you mean?”

“Did my parents ask you to come here and give me a job offer?”

“No, I’m here because I have a conference to attend in Baltimore tomorrow, so I thought I’d drop in. No one asked me to give you a job offer. You’re intelligent, you’re compassionate, you’re a good doctor, and I wouldn’t be a very smart Chief if I didn’t at least try to poach you for myself.”

“And she accepts!” Dorinda continues.

“Mom, stop it!” Naomi scolds.

“You’ll get a chance to work with me,” Naveen adds. “You’ll get a chance to work with Dr. Ethan Ramsey, my protege. We’re a level 1 trauma center, and Boston is a gorgeous city.”

The last thing Naomi needs right now is a new job in a new city, not while her life is in complete shambles. Besides, her entire life is in DC. It’s where her entire support system resides. Functioning without them sounds daunting.

“I really appreciate the offer Naveen, but that is definitely a lot to take in and consider.”

“Of course, I understand. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, nor do I expect any sort of answer.” Naveen sighs. “How much longer are you going to be off of work?”

“A few more weeks.”

“How about you come to Boston, and at least check out the hospital?” He suggests. “No strings attached, and you can stay at my lake house because I’m hardly ever there and there’s tons of space, so someone should enjoy it. At the very least, I think seeing it will at least be a fun experience and a nice vacation.”

“If I say yes to the trip, can we pause this conversation for the rest of the evening?”

Naveen nods. “I think that’s a fair exchange.”

“Then you have yourself a deal.”

Naomi relaxes and slouches slightly in her seat. When she gets home later on, she has a mission to complete: research the hell out of Boston and Edenbrook Hospital.

~v~

Boston is a beautiful city full of history, culture, and interesting attractions. Naomi appreciates the hustle and bustle of the city life, and the fact that everyone is always on the go – a vast difference from the quiet and serenity of Naveen’s lake house in Plymouth.

And Edenbrook is an entirely different beast. It is much larger than she expects, as the pictures don’t do it justice. The building is at least 7 stories tall to her naked eye, sleek and modern.

Naomi silently marvels as she watches doctors and nurses bustle around, chatting quietly amongst each other.

“Wow.” Is all she can say.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she?” Naveen asks rhetorically, smiling at Naomi’s childlike wonder.

“This hospital is amazing,” is what she finally settles on when words finally come back to her.

“Follow me, we have an unofficial tour to go on.”

Naomi follows Naveen through the hospital. She struggles to keep up as she tries to memorize the complex layout, because this hospital is large and built like a multi-level maze. 

Naveen rattles off information and fun facts as they pass through the pediatric department, they stop to stare at the newborns in labor and delivery, all small and wriggly, and they even manage to sneak into the OR to watch Harper Emery perform a craniotomy, something Naomi compares to a religious experience.

“I can’t believe I just watched The Harper Emery perform surgery!” Naomi squeals with delight as she and Naveen step out of the gallery and leave the OR. “Please tell me that wasn’t a dream.”

“I didn’t peg you for a surgery fanatic,” Naveen teases.

Naomi scoffs. “I’m not, but I respect Dr. Emery. You don’t have to be a basketball fan to appreciate that Michael Jordan is one of the greats.”

“That’s a fair comparison.”

The two of them continue their leisurely stroll around the hospital, making their way to the internal medicine department.

“This is where you’d spend a good chunk of your time, if you wanted to work here, of course.”

“Is it a large department?” Naomi asks quietly. There are a few patients filling out paperwork ahead of their appointments and she doesn’t want to disturb them.

“It is. We have a lot of doctors here so you can spend that extra one-on-one time with your patients, and you aren’t just rushing them out the door to get to your next appointment.”

“That’s good to know.”

Naveen’s pager goes off and he checks it before sighing. “The life of a Chief is never dull. I have to go take care of something downstairs, but I’ll be back as soon as possible. Do you think you can occupy yourself in the meantime?”

“Of course.” Naomi shoos him away. “Take your time.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Naomi watches as he walks away, until she can no longer see him through the crowds of people. Once he’s truly gone, she continues her slow stroll through the halls.

Edenbrook seems like an amazing hospital and a great place to work, but she’s not sure if she can see herself staying.

Can she really pack up and move more than 400 miles away from her entire family, and the only life she’s ever known? And is she the type to run away when life gets tough? What will everyone say? “Oh, poor girl gets left by her husband and had to flee the city.”

But what’s stopping you? The little voice in her head asks, and it’s technically right. She looks down at her left hand, zeroing in on the ring-less finger with a deep tan line, a very prominent reminder of what’s definitely not waiting for her back in DC. No husband, no kids, nothing but an empty and quiet condo.

When she filed for divorce, Naomi swore to herself that running off to city hall to get married would be the first and last wild and impulsive thing she’d ever do. And taking a job offer on a whim in Boston is teetering dangerously close to that “wild and reckless” category.

But she’s pulled out of her thoughts when someone gasps loudly beside her. Whipping her head around, Naomi watches as a middle aged woman falls out of her seat and collapses onto the ground.

That sends the waiting area into a frenzy as fellow patients panic and crowd around the woman like she’s some sort of zoo exhibit, and nurses try their best to assess the situation and ask for help.

“Everyone, step back!” Naomi orders, a serious expression covering her face. “I’m a doctor!”

Before Naomi can even reach the woman, another doctor rushes over, kneeling down beside her. He lifts her wrist and pressed two fingers to it. 

“Her pulse isn’t weak. She’s unresponsive.”

His face scans the crowd and Naomi inwardly gasps as she realizes that it's Ethan freaking Ramsey! In any other situation, she’d be freaking out and fan-girling over him.

He spots her and points. “You. Get in here.”

Naomi bites down on her tongue and resists the urge to get snappy with him. She’s not a puppy that can get summoned on command. But she remembers that a woman’s life is on the line and her own hang ups can wait.

“Right away, Doctor!”

With practiced ease, Ethan lifts the woman up and places her on a gurney that’s been rolled over by a nurse. Within seconds, Naomi is at his side.

“What was she coming in for?” He asks, hoping someone can answer his question. “Did she fill out a form yet?”

A nurse clears his throat before answering, “No, she had just walked in.”

That’s not the answer Ethan was hoping for and he frowns. “If we don’t figure out what’s wrong with her fast, she’s gonna die on this gurney.” He spares a quick glance at Naomi. “Check her B.P.”

A nurse hands Naomi a blood pressure cuff and she slips on around the woman’s arm. After pumping it a few times, she checks the numbers. They’re horrible.

“It’s plummeting. She’s hypotensive,” she explains. “We’ve gotta get fluids in her, now.”

Ethan nods, agreeing with the assessment. Another nurse sets up an I.V. while Naomi checks over the woman once more. She notices a bruise on her elbow, one that wasn’t there a minute ago, and her fingertips are turning blue.

“Doctor, look at her fingers,” Naomi says, getting Ethan’s attention. “I think it’s a sign of low oxygen saturation.”

Ethan raises an eyebrow. “You think or you know? We really don’t have time for the guessing game.”

“I know,” Naomi assures him, her tone coming out rougher than she intended. She’s not a fan of being second guessed, especially by someone who specifically requested her to assist.

“Good. Did you notice the bruise?” Naomi nods. “A bruise forming that quickly suggests that this woman is a hemophiliac.” Ethan slides his stethoscope from around his neck and hands it to Naomi. “Check her lungs, quickly.”

Naomi does what she’s told and takes a closer listen to her woman’s lungs. 

“Nothing on her left side, and the right side is struggling. She’s going to suffocate!”

Oh God, how did she get roped into this? This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation away from all of the stress of her life, now Naomi is watching a woman suffocate to death.

Dr. Ramsey isn’t having the same struggle as she is, as he remains calm, though everyone around them is on high alert. “We’ve got a Code Blue,” he says, his voice steady. A nurse hands him a bag mask and he starts delivering air to the woman.

Naomi watches as he does that, trying to remain calm. She closes her eyes and attempts to steady her thoughts, and figure out what’s wrong with the woman.

“Hey, either help out or leave, but I don’t need you here doing nothing,” Ethan says, interrupting her thoughts.

Naomi flinches a bit at the interruption, but she continues thinking. Low oxygen, hemophilia, deflated lungs. What could it possibly be?

As she’s going through the options, it hits her. “It’s a hemothorax!”

Ethan nods, confirming the diagnosis. “A blood vessel ruptured…”

“...and it’s blocking her lungs from expanding any further,” Naomi finishes. She looks around. They’re in a crowded waiting room, not the OR. “But we can’t do anything here!”

“There’s no time to get her to the OR, we’ll have to do an emergency thoracotomy to drain her pleural cavity.” Ethan points to a nurse. “You! I need a chest tube and a scalpel, now!”

A nurse rushes over immediately, placing the items in Naomi’s hands. She barely has time to register the fact that she’s about to perform an emergency procedure on an unconscious woman, and she’s not even supposed to be in doctor-mode today before Ethan is lifting the woman’s shirt 

“We’re gonna need a local anesthetic to–”

“We don’t have time for any of that!” Ethan snaps. “Do it now, or she’s going to die, and it’ll be on you!”

Naomi gulps and wills herself to calm down. Her pulse is racing and she can hear her heart beating in her ears.

But she breathes deeply. She doesn’t have time to panic, not when there’s a life on the line. She steadies her hand, and makes the incision at the woman’s rib cage.

“There you go, nice and easy,” Dr. Ramsey coaches. “Now insert the tube.”

Naomi insets the chest tube into the incision. Slowly but surely, the blood starts draining out of the woman’s chest, and she gasps, breathing again.

The woman, now conscious again, mutters something unintelligible, but she’s alive and that’s all that matters.

“We...we did it.”

The older physician ignores Naomi, instead turning to the nurse that’s been helping them. “She’s stable. Get her into surgery, but she’s stable.”

“Right away, Doctor.”

The nurses take the patient away, while the crowd applauds them for the heroic save. Eventually the crowd disperses, everyone going back to what they were previously doing.

The relief that floods through Naomi’s body is all-consuming. She hasn’t felt this euphoric in a long time. And to experience it with someone as amazing as Doctor Ramsey only elevates things. Doctors can only dream of working with him, and she actually got to do it, even if it was on a whim.

Maybe working at Edenbrook isn’t such a bad idea.

She turns back to Ethan, a giddy grin wide across her face. “Doctor...that was…amazing!”

“You’re right. It’s pretty amazing you didn’t get her killed.”

That takes the wind out of her sails almost instantly. “Wait, what?”

“Your examination was slow and superficial. And your scalpel technique?” He scoffs in derision. “Amateur at best.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Naomi asks. “I’m sorry, I’m not at work today, this entire situation threw me for a loop, and a waiting room definitely isn’t a proper setting to do any of what we just did. And if I’m so amateur at my job, what prevented you from stepping in at any time since you’re so much better than I am? Because if my recollection is correct, I did most of the work, while you stood there like some glorified overseer.”

“You’re the one who yelled out that you were a doctor. I wanted to test your mettle.”

Her blood boils in her veins at his words. So this is why they say never meet your heroes. Because they turn out to be righteous assholes.

“My mettle is just fine. You say it’s a miracle I didn’t kill her, I say she’s alive because of me. And another thing, I don’t need you testing my mettle when a patient’s life is on the line. Next time, save the little power trip.”

Ethan’s nostrils flare at her words. No doctor in their right mind has ever spoken to him like this. He stares down at the woman, almost a foot shorter than him, and she’s staring up at him with just as much intensity. “Now I don’t know who you think–”

“Naomi, there you are!”

Ethan’s tirade is cut short by the sound of Naveen’s voice echoing through the halls. He looks up to see his mentor and boss headed towards them.

“I’m sorry that took longer than expected Naomi,” Naveen says once he’s finally close enough. He looks her up and down. Her blouse and pants are ruined, covered in that woman’s blood. “Hue hat happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Naveen,” Naomi assures him. “It’s not mine. And it’s a very long story, one I’ll tell you once I’m out of these clothes.”

“Very well.”

Ethan watches as the two of them casually converse. He’s known Naveen for well over a decade, and not once has he seen or heard of this woman. How does Naveen know her well enough for them to be on a first name basis?

“You two know each other?” He asks, interrupting their conversation.

Naveen nods. “Oh yes, we go way back. Ethan, this is Dr. Naomi Valentine. Naomi, this is Dr. Ethan Ramsey.”

Naomi gives Ethan a tight smile. She’s no longer in the mood for pleasantries. “Charmed.”

“Likewise, Dr. Valentine.”

“Naomi here is from DC, and I’m trying to convince her to come to Edenbrook,” Naveen explains. He knows better than anyone how much Naomi admires Ethan’s work. Maybe he’ll be able to help him convince the younger woman to accept a job at Edenbrook. “It’s so perfect that you guys met and became acquainted, because I actually think she’d be an excellent addition to the diagnostics team.”

Ethan’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline at that statement. “What?”

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges & Compromises - Chapter 14

The ride to the Wayne Manor the other day was uneventful. That is unless one counted the times where Damian had peeked at Tim's tablet and saw the financial report, and suggested that Tim let the Algol Enterprises acquire Drake Industries.

"No thanks, I'd rather have full control of it," Tim said.

"It will be more beneficial for a good size of masses if you have larger capital." Damian reasoned.

Tim glared at him. "But then I won't have full control, will I? So no. I'll keep your offer in mind, but not now, thanks," he replied.

"Am I the only one feeling strangely inadequate here?" Dick quipped. "I mean, we have two minors discussing business, and we, two adult men, looked on not even understanding what they're talking about."

Jason had to stifle a laugh at that.

"Do not worry, Grayson. Once I get into the WE books, Jason or I shall explain to you the intricacies of running a multi-national and multi-faceted business." Damian remarked. Jason bit the inside of his lower lip at Dick's nearly imperceptible eye-roll.

Dick glared at Jason with a betrayed look, "You understood what they were talking about??" he demanded.

Jason shrugged slowly, "I'm his legal guardian, dude. I didn't get hired just because I looked pretty!"

"While I am certain Drake would not mind to hire you just to look pretty, Grayson, I do not understand why you must insist on presenting yourself as a dumb oaf..." Damian commented.

"That's part of his charm," Tim replied, snickering. "That, and his ass. For the record, I didn't hire him for his brain."

"I'm a security guard at the Drake Industries' owner's home," Dick replied haughtily.

"Technically, he's the receptionist of my apartment building. But everybody else thought of him as my bodyguard because he's ripped." Tim explained.

"Ripped?"

"Muscled," Jason explained. Damian was not one for slang just yet. "Most people who got hired as security guards would be fat ex-cops or really skinny juvenile halls graduates, yeah? Does it still work that way here?"

"Unfortunately. That's why most people thought he's like, an 'ex-special forces' security guard for me to keep me from getting kidnapped like my parents." Tim elaborated.

"That would've been a hoot." Dick quipped. "Even without me present, I'd really like to see people trying to kidnap you."

Tim threw him a feigned-hurt look. "How cruel. I've been nothing but facetious and kind to all. Why would they want to kidnap me?" he deadpanned. "Plus, they'll have their respective faces shredded to bits by Mama. Right, ma?" Tim added, calling out to the front of the limo.

Catwoman - without her costume, turned out to be a woman named Selina Kyle - was driving them there, clad in an official suit and jacket and hat of a limo driver. How and why Jason did not know. But given the fact that Tim's parents were kidnapped while in a private jet, he reckoned that Tim would have had rather more rigorous security set up for himself. While Jason was yet to be sure what kind of relationship Tim has with Catwoman - similar costume notwithstanding; he was quite certain that said relationship would have been pretty close and public.

"Nobody gets to mess with my kitten and get away with nary a scar," she replied through the opened divider. "Now, we're half a mile out, because you pretentious rich folks have to make things difficult and far, far away from anything logical. You boys better are on your best behavior, yeah?" she added, referring to the fact that although they had come from Drake House right next door, 'next door' consisted of a few miles of long and winding road between each properties' gates.

She sounded like a mother preparing her sons to meet the Sunday school teacher, and something ached in Jason's heart. A flashback of his own mother, came to fore - Catherine Todd. She might have died succumbing to her own heroin addiction, but she was not a bad mother to start with. She tried to raise him with good values - values often mocked by their own neighborhood. Good manners that didn't matter much around the block, at least until Talia found him and brought Jason to her home. Also, the unshakable faith that there were still good people in the world, and there were people trying to make it better for them.

He wondered how is it that Tim could be so lucky with having two 'mother' figures like Catwoman and Oracle, complete with a biological mother who nearly had it all - especially when it comes to funds. He briefly wondered what it would have been like if his mother was rich.

Then he looked at Damian, sitting up straight in his seat, pretending not to notice the gates opening in front of them. He inhaled slowly, realizing that if his mother had been rich or had lived, things would have been much different - and much worse - for Damian. He mentally braced himself, running all of Tim's schemes briefly through his mind, until the car stopped in front of the Wayne Manor's front door.

The door was opened by a butler, a tall old man with a pencil-thin mustache and grey hair. For an untrained eye, Dick seemed to be the only one out of place, as he looked around and gawked over the extensive driveway and majestic fountain, the regal oak door, and the as-regal butler right in front of it.

For Jason, he knew that Dick was scoping the area, remembering the layout and/or cross-checking it with images that Tim had shown them.

"We are here to see Mr. Bruce Wayne," Tim introduced, formally handing a business card to the valet.

"The formality is quite unnecessary, Master Drake," the butler replied. Jason thought he could see a hint of amusement in the butler's otherwise stoic expression. "I know who you are quite well."

"Ah, but this is not just for me, Alfred," Tim replied, smiling. "The card is his," he presented Damian. "the other two are his minders. I'm just here to introduce them." While Damian, Jason, and Tim knew that to enter a 'high society' family home one cannot simply just walk in through the gates; Barbara was a little surprised at this, and Dick had snickered unabashedly.

'Alfred' accepted the card and read it, and now Jason was sure that there was a slight uptick on the man's eyebrows. "Mr. Damian Al Ghul. I see. Kindly enter, gentlemen, I shall consult the Waynes." Alfred intoned, stepping aside to allow them in.

They were ushered to the foyer, and left to wait there as the butler went to fetch whichever Wayne might be at home. So far, so good; Jason thought. Tim already ascertained that Bruce, the walking-disaster who was said to have broken his leg a few days ago while playing polo, would be home. So would Bane. Dr. and Mrs. Wayne were in the Alps, somewhere. As a common societal norm, Alfred should call for the master of the house - and that should be Bruce Wayne.

It took a few minutes, but Bruce Wayne came hobbling down on a cane - followed by Bane.

"Bruce," Tim greeted him because of course, Tim would be on a first-name basis with him; that 'high-society' boy.

"Tim Drake, in the flesh. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Bruce Wayne chirped, shaking Tim's hand as if it was a pump-handle. Tim's face didn't even change, but Jason could see a scowl beginning to form on Damian's face.

"Well, I reckon this should be a blood-family issue. They came to me because, as you might have heard, I have had some dealings with Algol Enterprises." Tim said. "There has been a tragedy, apparently."

"Oh yes, I've heard. Ra's and Talia... who would have expected them to be in such tragedy... I am sorry for your loss, son," Bruce leaned a little toward Damian with an expression of most-sincerity. Yet Jason observed the scowl on Bane's face, followed by Tim's stealthy, nearly imperceptible eye-roll.

"My thanks for your condolence, and am as sorry for your loss, father." Damian retorted, cutting straight to the case.

Jason would swear that he could hear a single surprised chirp of a bird somewhere in the vast area of the manor in the silence that followed. Broken only by a guttural roar.

[chevrolangels]

When My Time Comes

death!cas,  3.3k

Continuing my tradition of posting ~spooky~ fics for Halloween, here’s a little thing with Death!Cas. I know we’re all freaking out with spn ending and a possible looming end for our fave so I hope this is a nice little au reprieve. The title is from 'Work Song' by Hozier, bc I needed to use one of his lyrics for a title eventually.

Enjoy.

read on ao3

The first time Castiel met him, he was crying.

 He beat out with his tiny fists, and his father dragged him away, but not before he managed to swipe at Castiel. His hand passed through him like mist, and Castiel felt a shock, like he had been plunged in icy water. 

 Castiel extended a hand, and he and Mary Winchester walked into the afterlife together.

 “Your son is a feisty one,” he told her.

“Good,” Mary replied. “He'll have to be without his mama.”

◆

“I know what you are.”

A man—boy, really—his hands clenched. He stared at Castiel, anger staining his soul. 

Castiel knew those eyes.

“You’re a reaper,” the man accused.

Castiel did not deny it.

 He simply stood, withdrawing his hands from the body in the alley. 

“That’s one word for what I am.”

The words dragged like rust in Castiel’s throat. It had been some time since he last spoke.

 “I've been searching for you. For years.” 

Castiel looked away, and said nothing. 

 The boy eyed him for several silent moments.

“Why can I see you?” 

 Castiel told him honestly. 

“I don't know.”

 Some of the tension bled from the boy’s shoulders.

“You got a name?” He asked gruffly.

 Castiel nodded.

“My name is Castiel.”

The boy took an abortive step forward, his fingers outstretched. Castiel did not move. 

He reached the outline of where Castiel’s shoulder should be, but touched nothing but air.

His hand dropped. 

“I’m Dean,” he said finally. “Dean Winchester.”

 “I know,” Castiel answered softly. “Hello, Dean.”

◇

“Why can't I touch you?” He asked, the next time they met.

 “Would you like to?”

 Dean thought for a moment, his brow furrowed.

“Yes.”

 Castiel stepped past Dean’s grandfather, lying sick in his bed. Castiel had never done it before, but he saw no reason why it wouldn’t be possible. He extended his arm and thought very hard.

He felt himself solidify, and Dean reached out tentatively, as if Castiel were poisonous. He touched the back of his hand.

His fingers were hot, searing flame, burning brighter than anything Castiel had ever known.

 Until, that is, Dean punched him in the face.

“That was for my ma,” he said.

◆

“I do not cause death,” Castiel said, many months later. “I am merely the link between worlds.”

 Dean lifted his head, shock crossing his pale face. 

“You again.”

His voice was hoarse, weakened through many nights of grief. Tragedy had once again come to their small community, and Castiel could feel Dean’s soul still aching from it.

Castiel stepped forward, looking at the cold form lying before Dean, life now burnt out.

“You were not related to this man,” he said, almost a question.

“No,” Dean answered shortly. 

“Ah.” 

 Castiel looked away. Even after all this time, the nuances of humanity still escaped him.

The silence between them stretched. Castiel furrowed his brow, searching for the appropriate words to use. 

“I’m sorry.”

 Dean said nothing, but his eyes widened, betraying his surprise.

“Dean.” 

Another entered the room, long hair skimming over reddened eyes.

“They want us outside,” the newcomer said, thin, tall, even younger than Dean. “You know. To say a few words.”

 His request was thick, choked. Castiel looked back from his face to Dean’s. Their pain was great, and shared. 

“Yeah, be there soon, Sammy,” Dean answered in a low voice, never taking his eyes off Castiel.

 The boy waited for a moment, eyes sliding towards the spot where Castiel stood, where to him was only empty space.

“You’re not still seeing ghosts, are you?” He asked, smiling wanly. 

His soul flickered, strangely dim. 

“Nah,” Dean answered quietly.

They did not speak after that, even after the boy left the room. Some time later, Dean left too, with a quick nod toward Castiel, so brief he might have missed it.

Castiel watched him go.

Robert Singer sighed, a wistful smile on his face.

“Well,” he said, turning to Castiel. “We’d better get goin’, huh?”

 Castiel nodded.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Let’s.”

◇

Revolution came. Blood ran through the streets and voices cried out in the dawn, the sound of shouts and guns being fired. 

 Dean lay slumped against a building, bleeding in the dirt—a wound in his thigh that desperately needed a doctor. Castiel waited by the dying body of Dean’s compatriot, watching soldiers run past.

Dean saw him and his face went pale.

 “Well, Castiel,” he murmured. “You comin’ to finish me off?”

 He knew. He knew if Castiel was there, it was already too late.

 He passed out soon after from the blood loss. Dean was not to die yet, but soon. Thirty minutes maybe, a stray bullet to the head. He would feel nothing. 

Castiel thought for a moment. Then he did something he was not allowed to do. 

 He picked up the dead comrade’s helmet and slipped it over Dean’s head, brushing the hair back from his glassy green eyes. Then Castiel gently laid him back against the building.

 “Not yet, Dean Winchester,” he whispered.

◆

Castiel was not sure why he did it. But nothing happened. No fire, no brimstone, no splitting of the fabric of time. Whatever cosmic consequences he had incurred lay quiet.

In the hospital, many died. Castiel checked on him frequently. By the seventh death, he was awake.

"Castiel," he whispered. “Cas.”

 The nurse hushed him and quickly turned up his medicine. Dean slipped back under—but not before he grabbed Castiel’s hand.

In sleep, he burns cooler, the swirling ocean during a storm.

◇

Dean sat there, sunken eyes, in a wheelchair. 

War brings out the demons inside.

"Y'know, I'm startin' to think you're following me."

 Castiel frowned. 

"You do not know this man. I believe you are the one following me."

"Yeah, well." Dean turned his head away, scratching at a cheek covered in rough stubble. "I had to thank you, didn't I?"

 Castiel hesitated.

"I did nothing."

"Sure."

 Dean picked at the edge of his bandage. A couple weeks and he'd be able to walk again. 

 "All I'm saying is, it's pretty nice I got the angel of death as my friend."

Castiel let out a small derisive sound.

"I am not an angel."

"Then what are you?"

Castiel thought for a moment.

"I'm not sure."

 Then, something in his words registered. Castiel looked at him curiously. 

 "Friend?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Friend."

◆

Dean was not there when Castiel took his father. They hadn't spoken in years.

 “So that’s it,” John said flatly.

Castiel nodded.

“Yes.”

 John was silent for a long moment. 

“Guess there’s no talking my way outta this one,” he muttered. “No more deals to make.”

Castiel slowly shook his head.

 John looked back at his own body, tears welling in his eyes.

“Miss my boys,” he mumbled. “I shoulda...shoulda done more. Shoulda done right by them.”

He sighed, staring blankly at his hands.

“Guess it’s too late now.”

 Castiel spoke softly.

“Your son is a fine man.”

“Yeah?” John turned, raising an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

 Castiel avoided his eyes, holding out a hand.

"Come," he said. "Mary is waiting."

◇

"How come I see you so much?”

"Death is everywhere.”

"Then how come your name isn't...y'know. Death?” 

 "There are many old names for things. Everything changes with time."

Silence sat between them, comfortable yet steady.

"Is there a god?" 

"Why would you ask me that?" 

"Dunno. Figured if there was, they'd be your boss."

"If there is, I've never met them.”

“Huh. Told Sammy as much. He still thinks you don’t exist, by the way.”

“People find it hard to believe things they cannot see.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s something I have wondered, many times, Yet it remains mysterious, even to me." 

 Castiel looked down at his hands, the means of his lonely burden.

 "I am merely the ferryman,” he murmured. 

Dean nudged his shoulder.

"So the Greeks were right then?"

"What?"

 Dean rolled his eyes.

 "Never mind."

◆

When his next-door neighbor died on his kitchen floor, Castiel visited Dean. 

He was crying. 

“Dean.”

 He looked up slowly, eyes unfocused.

“My dad’s dead,” he mumbled. Castiel nodded.

“I know.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Castiel shrugged slowly.

 “I hadn't talked to him,” Dean said, a confession. “Not in years.”

“He mentioned you.”

Dean dropped his head back in his hands, shoulders shaking. Rather than comfort, Castiel’s words seemed to have the opposite effect.

 Castiel stood still for several long moments.

Then he knelt, reached out, and touched his cheek.

Tears clung to Dean’s lashes. He looked up at Castiel, shattered, laid bare, his rough exterior finally split open.

 Dean leaned forward, lips parting.

 This soft, broken man was the edge of a knife, a precipice for which there could be no coming back.

   Castiel brushed a thumb over the freckles dusting his skin—wheat and honey stars in a milky sky. 

And he kissed him.

◇

Dean still burns cool in his sleep. But they've evened out, and now, he feels like warm summer rain in Castiel’s arms. He has stopped shivering when Castiel holds him.

 “What do I look like?” Castiel whispers one night.

They do not have much time left. Castiel has been reckless, pushing the limits further and further each time he stays. He cannot begin to imagine what danger might come from his disobedience.

 “You don't know?”

Dean smiles, and starts to trace the lines of his face.

“You look human. Sorta.”

His fingers dance down Castiel’s jaw, sweeping across his chin.

“But...I look at you, and know you're not...y’know?” He laughs softly. “I can just tell. You're made of something else.”

Dean’s hands skim across Castiel’s bare throat.

“When you’re wearing clothes,” he continues, a hint of mischief in his tone. “It’s always the same ugly-ass coat.”

Castiel makes a small indignant sound.

“It is not ugly.”

“Just saying.”

Dean grins, loose and easy, tangling his fingers in Castiel’s own.

“You could rock the whole badass look. Black cloak, scythe—the whole deal.”

“The scythe was quite cumbersome,” Castiel deadpans.

 Dean looks at him for a moment until he realizes Castiel’s joking—and he laughs.

“And you got one hell of a sense of humor,” he murmurs, leaning in.

 Castiel accepts the kiss, closing his eyes. Despite all he’s seen, all he’s suffered, Dean is still so full of love. The resilience of humans will never fail to astound Castiel, but Dean is something else. 

He pulls back, smiling softly, then reaches up, tugging at Castiel’s hair. 

“This is brown. Really dark brown, almost black. Way darker than mine.” 

Dean looks at him, lowering his voice.

“Your eyes are blue, and they're the prettiest eyes I've ever seen.”

 Castiel catches his hand, pressing a small kiss to his palm.

Dean’s smile fades as he watches Castiel, his chest rising and falling slowly. Castiel’s does not. 

He does not breathe.

 “When I gonna die, Cas?” Dean whispers.

 Castiel goes still. 

Dean searches his face. 

“C’mon,” he says, a slight shake in his voice. “You gotta know.”

Castiel looks at him, and realizes he does not. 

 “I don't,” he says, shocking himself with the words. 

Dean doesn't heed him, barreling on.

“Because when I die, I mean what if—”

He stops, fear in his eyes.

“What if I never see you again?” Dean whispers.

 Castiel cradles Dean’s face in his hand, shaking his head, opening his mouth to whisper false words of comfort. 

That's when he feels a tug at the edges of his being, and he’s being pulled halfway across the world, to the next death. 

 The last thing Castiel sees are Dean’s panicked green eyes, before everything turns to black.

◆

“SAM, NO—”

Dean runs, his scream rending the night air.

“No, no, Sammy—”

He reaches Sam just before he collapses, dropping with him in the wet dirt. 

“Dean—” Sam chokes out, as the perpetrator runs away with his crime into the dark. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Hey, hey, no—it’s okay, alright?” Dean tries to pull him up, support him, even as Sam falls to his knees, slumping forward. “You’re fine—it’s fine, it’s not even that bad, it’s not—”

Dean cuts off. He lifts a shaky hand from the wet patch spreading over Sam’s back, seeing it come away covered in slick red.

“Shit,” he breathes lowly.

Sam says something, jagged and garbled in his throat. Dean shushes him, hands coming to his face. 

“No, no, Sammy, you’re gonna be fine—we faced worse before, you just need to—”

 Sam’s face is ashen white, his eyes starting to slip closed. Dean gasps back a choked breath.

 “C’mon, Sammy,” he begs. “Come on.”

He looks around, to cry for help, for something, anything—

And he sees Castiel.

 “No,” Dean breathes.

  “I'm sorry, Dean,” Castiel whispers.

  “No,” Dean snarls again, gripping the back of his brother's jacket.

He doesn't have long. Samuel Winchester’s heart is pushing the blood out of him, slowly but surely. It won't take more than a few minutes.

   Castiel takes a few steps forward, but Dean jerks back, dragging Sam backward, shielding him with his own body. 

 Dean meets Castiel’s eyes. He's broken. 

“No, Cas,” he whispers. “Please, no.”

Castiel’s hands tremble.

“I have to.”

Sam breathes in raggedly.

“Just a few more years,” Dean whispers. “Please.”

“I can’t,” Castiel answers softly. “Death demands life.”

“One year, just one year, c’mon, at least give him something—”

Dean stops, choking back sobs. His breath spirals silently into the night air, the ground slick with rain and blood.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel murmurs.

 He kneels beside them and places a hand on Sam’s forehead. 

Dean watches, bone-white and utterly defeated. 

Sam gasps.

“Dean,” he murmurs. “I...I see him.”

 Dean looks down at him, shocked out of his stupor.

“Y-yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Sam whispers. “Your angel...Cas.” 

Dean nods silently, tears dripping down thick and fast.

“He was real after all,” Sam mumbles, his head drooping onto Dean's chest.

 Dean stares down at his brother’s pale face, hands clenched in the loose folds of his jacket.

Seconds, now.

 Castiel closes his eyes. He has no heart, but he’s sure this is what it feels like when it breaks. 

“Take me.”

Castiel looks up sharply.

Dean’s jaw is set, his eyes are firm. 

 “Take me instead,” he orders again.

Castiel stutters, fear constricting his throat.

“Dean, I—”

 He stops, shaking his head. 

“I can’t,” he whispers.

“Bullshit, you can’t,” Dean spits back. “You saved me.”

 “I—”

 His argument dies in his throat. 

As Castiel beholds him, stares into Dean’s eyes—his fate is murky, the truth to Castiel lost in shadow.

  Dean reaches out, catching the edge of Castiel’s sleeve.

"Please," he begs. "Please, Cas."

  Castiel shudders, and looks back to Sam’s pale face.

“And you would leave him here alone?” He swallows thickly. “Without you.”

 Dean is silent for a long moment. When Castiel finally musters the courage to look back at him, his normally carefree face is drawn tight, resignation heavy on his shoulders.

“I ain’t supposed to be here, Cas,” he whispers. “I felt it. Ever since…”

 Castiel knows. 

Ever since he ripped up the rules, leaving nothing.

  “I was supposed to die,” Dean says quietly. “Maybe I should. “

Sam’s breathing slows, his face grows slack.

Dean tightens his grip, knuckles white. 

“It’ll be hard for him at first,” he breathes, looking down at Sam. “For—for both of us. But I know he’ll understand.”

 Castiel cannot think. Dean cannot fathom what he’s asking of him.

 “Cas.”

 Dean’s voice breaks on his name.

“Cas—please,” he whispers. 

A soft touch on his cheek.

 “We’ll see each other again,” Dean breathes, swallowing thickly. “R-right?”

Castiel folds his hand over Dean’s. 

“Right,” he whispers, but he’s not sure if it's true.

He slowly places his other hand on Sam’s, and looks up into Dean’s eyes. He nods, just once.

Sam bolts upright, just as Dean slumps over, the light fading from his eyes.

 Castiel sags, the transfer of energy leaving him weak. It's like watching a film in reverse—Sam rises dazedly, and when he understands what has occurred, he is the one now shaking his brother’s lifeless body, agony in his voice.

“Dean!” He calls, looking around wildly. “Castiel, you son of a bitch, don’t you dare—bring him back—”

He continues raging, cursing Castiel in one breath and begging for help in the next.

 “I’m sorry, Sam,” Dean whispers.

Sam stills, hiccuping.

“Be good, alright?” Dean continues softly. “You keep fighting. And take care of my wheels.”

Sam drops his head, stifling a choked laugh. Dean smiles, sad and bittersweet.

“Remember what Dad taught you, okay?” He murmurs. “And what I taught you.”

 Behind them, a soft white light begins to glow, banishing the obscure dark. Sam does not notice, or see. He is too caught up in his grief, mourning over a now-empty shell.

The universe demanded the soul of a Winchester, and it got one. Yet a life traded for another cannot move on. 

Castiel knows this. 

Beside him, Dean’s hand finds his.

Castiel shivers. Not candle-warm, like the other souls he’s helped cross over. Dean’s hand is as cold as his own.

 “Let's go, Cas,” Dean whispers. “I can't see this.”

They turn away, Castiel giving one last look to the brother they’re leaving behind.

 And they walk forward into the light.

◆◇

Castiel’s work has always been demanding. Souls dying everywhere across the globe, some within the same second. 

 With two, the job is somewhat easier. 

◇◆

She opens her eyes. She must’ve slipped under again, a brief respite from the pain.

She sits up and is surprised to find the motion does not hurt her. In fact, nothing hurts anymore. Instead, she feels only lightness.

“Well, you sure took your sweet time.”

   She turns, startled to see a man standing at the foot of her bed.

He clicks his tongue, pulling back the edge of a leather glove to tap a shining watch on his wrist.

“We’re late enough as it is,” he says expectantly. “And I don’t got all day, seeing as my brother’ll kill me if I don’t get to visit him again.”

He thinks a moment, then chuckles, a wry smile playing around his lips.

“Well.” He smirks. “He would if he could.”

 She blinks a few times, bewildered.

“Who are you?” 

 The man ignores her question, removing his gloves completely. He’s tall, impeccably dressed in a dark suit and black cloak. 

“Tessa, right?”

He smiles, extending a hand.

On his fourth finger is a ring, white ivory in a square setting.

 Tessa doesn’t move.

“I’m dead.”

 The man winks.

“Bingo,” he answers. “Or ‘condolences’, as Cas would say.”

 Before she can ask what that's supposed to mean, the man quickly checks his watch again, speaking brusquely.

“Okay, but seriously, come on.” He jerks his head, nodding over his shoulder. You’d think we’d have all the time in the world, but turns out we run on a very tight schedule.”

Tessa eyes him warily.

“And...where are we going?” 

“Y’know.” The man gestures vaguely. “On. As they say.”

“On,” she repeats.

 The man smirks.

“Yeah. Dust in the wind and all that.”

She frowns.

“What?”

“It’s a—” The man stops, waving an impatient hand. “You know what—never mind.”

 He turns, beckoning once again. Seeing no other option, Tessa falls into step beside him. 

Before them is a warm silver light, growing brighter by the second.

They reach the threshold of what seems to be a shimmering door, a gateway.

Tessa takes a deep breath. Despite everything, she is not afraid. 

 She looks back at her strange shepherd, gathering her courage.

“So.”

He glances up, raising an eybrow.

“You’re Death,” she says.

 The man chuckles, once again pulling on his black gloves.  

"Sure am," he answers, smiling. "Well—"

He shrugs.

"One of them, anyway.”

 He turns, holding a hand out for her to shake.

“You can call me Dean.”

◆◇

[arsmith03]

Peter!

Ship: Owen Grady X Reader

no warnings

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mama, I can’t wait to see all of the big dinosaurs." Your son, Peter, told you. He looked over the railing of the boat over the ocean and onto the Island.

"Which one are you excited to see most?" You said picking him up to give him a better view.

"The triceratops. They are so cool, mama." He's little arms wrapped around your neck as you tried to look closer at the Island that was getting closer.

"Careful, you'll fall overboard, baby." He let out a giggle and leaned back into your chest.

Once the boat stopped at the dock, you and Peter grabbed your bag and walked with the rest of the group to the shuttle trains. Peter quickly found two seats near the front of the train. Looking out the window, you saw the beautiful forest and then the attendant said to look out the front and there were the gates to Jurassic World.

You and Peter found your room quickly and changed.

"Should we eat first, Pete?" You asked your son who was on the balcony overlooking the whole park.

"Yes, you think they have pizza here?" He said walking back into the room.

"Yes, I'm sure they have pizza, baby. Now chop chop, put your shoes on mister and let’s go." you handed your son his shoes and he put them on relatively quick. He had light brown hair like his father and the same green eyes.

"Mama, what are you staring at?" Peter asked when he looked up.

"Nothing, baby. Come on, let's go before they put the dinos to bed." You opened the door and ushered him out of the room. He grabbed your hand when you two made it to the elevator.

"Mama, what dinosaur are you looking to see?" He asked.

"I think, maybe the Apatosaurus." You are lucky your son knows the names of almost any dinosaur by now.

"First pizza, mama." He giggled and pulled out of the elevator and out into the park.

"If we can find it." You said as he kept pulling. "Baby, slow down." Your son rushed you into a crowd of people and when you came out of the crowd, you were no longer holding hands with your son.

"Pete!!?" You stopped and looked around. You shouted his name. You asked several people if they had seen him. No one had. You began to freak out. Almost hyperventilating, you stopped and went to go look for the triceratops to see if he made his way there.

With no luck, your son wasn't there, nor at the petting zoo, or by the Apatosaurus. You began to freak out. You found a security guard and asked him if he had seen your son.

"Sir, have you seen my son, he’s about this high," you held your hand out to be about his height, "Messy light curly hair, bright green eyes, about 6. Goes by Peter?"

"Ma'am, I haven't. I'll send in a report to ask anyone if they have seen him." He pulled a walkey off of his belt and asked the rest of the staff to keep a look out for him. You didn't find your son so you were aimlessly walking around the park. Not even looking where you were going and bumped into someone. A tall someone.

"I'm so sorry. I'm just freaking out and not paying attention to-" You looked up and see your ex-lover, Owen Grady. Peter's father.

"Y/n?"

"Hi, Owen. I didn't think you'd be here, you took off so fast after graduation." You began to stumble on your words, rambling.

"Yeah, joined the navy. And now I work here as a veloci-" Owen got cut off.

"Mama!" You saw Owen wipe around to the little boy running to you guys. You squatted and held out your arms. Your arms couldn't have wrapped around that little boy so fast as they did in that moment. You tightly hugged him.

"What happened? Where on earth did you go, Peter? I was worried sick, I had half the staff looking for you. This isn't a place to be running off in." You almost yelled at him.

"Sorry, mama." He began to cry. You brought your hands to his cheeks and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"It's ok now, baby. You found me and that's all that matters." You pulled him into a hug after he nodded at you. You stood up with him still in your arms. You forgot Owen was standing in front of you until you looked back at him.

"Mama, did you see the triceratops?" Peter picked up his head and looked at you. Slowly you turned to look at Peter.

"No, baby, not without you. I promised we would go after pizza."

"Mama, who's this?" Peter looked right at Owen and I could see the gears turning in his head.

"This is one of mommy's old friends from high school." You looked at Owen who was still trying to process some of the information.

"Hi, Owen. I'm Peter."

"Hi, Peter. How old are you, buddy?"

"6, almost 7." When Owen said his age, he turned and looked at me.

"Well, Owen, it was nice catching up to you, but I promised pizza and triceratops." You turned and began walking away.

"Why don't I come with? I'm on break right now."

"Sure." Peter answered for you.

After finding the pizza place and finding a seat, you all ordered. Owen and Peter talked the whole time. Then I heard Peter say 'ah'.

"Mama, my tooth fell out." You looked at your son who held the tooth in his hand.

"That's so awesome, baby."

"Do you think the tooth fairy is on the Island, mama?"

"I'm sure she is." You ruffled his curly hair and finished eating. When you were done, Peter asked if he could go to the petting zoo right in front of the pizza place. You agreed cause you could see him.

"So, Peter.." Owen started shortly after Peter kissed you goodbye and was out of the door.

"What about him?" You took a sip of your water.

"Is Peter my son?" You let the edge of the cup sit at your lips, trying to figure out what to say. Sighing, you lightly set down the cup.

"Yes."

"Why the hell wasn't I told?"

"Cause you ran off after graduation, to join the Navy. You were so happy you got in. I didn't want to tell you in case you decided to stay home and not go. I was going to tell you, but like I said you ran off. Your parents knew, I told them they could tell you, but I guess they didn't."

"Clearly. And I got back home from base 6 months after that."

"I moved out of town, stayed with my mom in Ohio. Peter was born in our home town though, roughly a month before you got back."

"So you were what, 5 months when I left." You only nodded.

"You could have written to me, or something."

"I did. But I didn't want you to not accept him. Plus i was a kid, i didn't know any better. But," You looked out the window and saw your son ride atop one of the baby triceratops. "I don't regret what happened." You looked back at Owen. " That little boy has brought me so much joy, it's unbelievable."

"Does he know about me? Being his father?" You slightly shook your head.

"He'd asked once, when he was four, where his daddy was. And I told him he was out fighting bad guys and one day he'll return." You folded your hands on the table. "I know it was wrong to lie to him. But, I didn't want it on my continent to tell him, his dad didn't even know he existed." You sighed and heard a small gasp behind you. Owen looked past you and you slowly turned around to look at your son.

"What?"

"Peter... baby." As you reached out to him, he flinched backwards away from you, and bolted out the door.

"Peter. Dammit." You throw down 30 dollars hoping it was enough for lunch.

"Peter." You and Owen ran out the door and through the park.

"See, this is why you should have told him the truth."

"Yeah but then i look like the bad mother who didn't tell the father." It felt like twenty minutes and Owen got a call over his walkey.

"Owen, a little boy fell in the raptor pit!"

"Peter! Oh, god." Owen ran over to a motorcycle and started it up.

"Got on." You did as asked and you and Owen sped off to the raptor paddock.

"Open the gate, Barry." Owen said as he walked though the main gate, shutting and locking it. Owen turned to the raptors currently standing in front of the boy, it was definitely Peter. One of the raptors sniffed Peter and made clicking noises to the others and backed off the boy.

Owen opened the gate and walked between Peter and the raptors.

"Blue, stand down. Charlie, back the fuck off." And they did.

"Barry, shut the gate." Owen said as he grabbed Peter by the arm and slowly walked backwards.

"Owen, are you crazy?"

"Just a bit. OK, Peter run. Now." Owen basically threw your son who stumbled and started in a run and as soon as he passed the gates, Barry hit the close button. When it was half way, Owen ran and the Raptors ran after him. The gate shut tightly behind Owen and the Raptors hit it. Owen was panting hard and so was Peter. Barry opened the main gate and you ran in. To your son. You arms around him. He was crying about a cut on his arm.

"Peter, what did I tell you, you can't run off that. You have me scared. That, just now scared me." You held the boy by both of his arms. You were crying half way through the sentence.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, mama." The boy let out a loud sob. He managed to free his arms from you and throw them around your neck.

"Me and your father, we worried to death, baby. You really cannot be running off like this." The boy nodded.

"Peter." Owen said. Your son loosened his hug on you and looked at Owen. Not moving from you.

"Did daddy really not know I was born?" You hung your head about to say something when Owen spoke up.

"I knew about you, buddy. Your mom told you i was out fighting bad guys, well I was. Overseas." You mouthed 'thank you'.

"But, I heard mama?"

"Mama was talking about one of her old friends. Owen knows her and hasn't seen her in years."

"So, Peter? Can I have a hug or?" Peter stepped away from you and slowly walked to Owen. Owen was kneeling on the floor when Peter reached him. Peter was hesitant, he looked at Owen then at you, you slowly nodded to your son. Then he looks back at Owen.

"You're my daddy?"

"Yeah, buddy. I am." When Owen said that, a smile plastered itself across your face.  You wished you could have told Owen before so he could have been there with you and your son. You watched at Peter stalked closer to Owen and as Owen swooped Peter into his arms and held him close to him.

You'd wished Owen could have seen his own son grow up. To learn to walk, to talk. You wished he was there for the good days, like his birthdays. You wished Owen was there for the bad days, like when your father passed away shortly after Peter's third birthday. It was a rough day for both of you. You lost your own father and Peter lost the only father figure in his life. Your boyfriend at the time didn't help support you or your son. He just brushed you guys off. You wished you'd broke up with the guy sooner before your son got attached.

"Mama," Your son's small voice brought you out of your thoughts. You looked up at Owen and your son.

"Yes, baby?" You walked over to him and placed your hand on his back and softly rubbed it.

"I'm sorry, mama. For runnin' away from you when you told me not to." Your son looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Oh, baby. Hey don't cry. It's alright now. Your safe ok." You plucked Peter from Owens arms and held your son. After today's events, sleep would come relatively early for him. You hugged your son close to you, rubbing his back once more.

"It's getting late, baby. You wanna head back to the room?" With a gentle nod and his curly hair brushed against your ear, he mumbled 'only if daddy comes'. You looked at Owen.

"Mama doesn't know if daddy has time, baby." You felt so bad for saying that. But it was the truth, you didn't know. You don't know how Owen's life had changed in the last 6 years.

"Daddy will come with you, buddy." Owen spoke softly to you two. Peter only gave a sleepy nod.

"Want daddy to carry you back to the room?" You spoke quietly. Your son only nodded again. Moving closer to Owen, he carefully held your son the way you were and Peter wrapped his little arms around Owen. His fist clenching the fabric of Owen's vest. Peter's cheek was all squashed up against his dad's shoulder. You could hear Peters soft snores a bit louder. The walk back wasn't bad at all. You and Owen talked about the old days in high school before Peter. He never asked any questions about Peter, which you took as a sign that Owen might not want to be in Peter's life at all.

Once in the room, you carefully took off Peter's shirt while he was still in his father's arms and put on a soft pajama shirt. You did the same for Peters pants, but put him in a matching pair of shorts that came with the set. Your room consisted of two queen beds because they made a mistake when you registered the room and all of the single queen rooms were booked so you kept it.

"Though he'll ended up in my bed at some point tonight." You said to yourself as you moved a few of the pillows to create a form of bumper for your son. You walked back to Owen and took your sleeping son from him and laid him in bed like you use to all those years ago. Covering him up and laying next to him his favorite stuffed animal, a teddy bear your great-aunt made all the grand-child when your father passed away made from his old flannels.

You turned off the light in the room and walked to the kitchen and living room.

"Wanna drink or something, Owen?"

"Got a 'Cola?" He asked, looking around the room. You made yourself a quick thing of coffee and brought a bottle of coke a cola to Owen. When your coffee finished, you walked out to the balcony and sat in one of the chairs. Owen joined you, sitting on a chair next to you.

"So, I have a son."

"Yes, sir. Look Owen, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I did want to tell you, but like I said it was your dream to join the Navy and I didn't want me or Peter holding you back. I was scared you did not even want him since we were so young at the time." You set your cup on the table next to you.

"Look, Y/N, you don't have to apologize. OK, I was the idiot that abandoned you. But, I can see that you have raised him to just like you. Back in school, you were like him. You were always so open to new things and always made new friends. I see where he gets it from."

"He wasn't always like this. I don't know what changed in him. But, the last six years were tough on me and him, Owen. He takes so much after me cause he never really had a father figure growing up besides my dad, even after my parents had a falling out, I still saw my father pretty often. But then dad passed away, just a few days after Peter's third birthday. I was a wreck. Peter was a wreck. My stupid ex didn't help comfort me or my son. I don't know why I stayed with him for as long as I did. I'd raised Peter all by myself and with little to no help from my ex. I think the only thing he's got going for him right now from you is your looks and the fact the he's smart." You looked a Owen briefly then out over the Park.

"I really wished I'd told you that day you left I was pregnant, I feel like you should have at least known even if you didn't stay. I'd at least know you'd try to contact him somehow."

"I wish I didn't run off as fast as I did. Maybe then, things would be really different, Peter would know what it was like to have an actual father. I'm sure I wouldn't be working with dinosaurs."

"I feel like that would have been the only thing that Peter would have liked. Him and his darn dino's" You chuckled to yourself. Remembering the first time Peter saw a dinosaur on tv in an older movie, and he instantly fell in love with them.

"I know it might be too late to ask, but I'd like it if we could go back to the way things used to be. But, I'd like to go on a few dates first." You gave him a lazy smile as he said that.

"Yeah that sounds nice." You relaxed into the back of the chair and finished your coffee.

As you two sat in silence, you never noticed that Owen would steal quick glanced at you and your body. You hadn't changed much from high school. You may have put on a bit of weight from when you had Peter, but then again, Owen hadn't seen you in six years. He took in your form. The way your hair slightly curled when you removed the messy bun it was in. And the way that your eyes held all the light in them, the same eyes he would get lost in when you spoke to each other. And the way you smiled. You use to smile back in school, but the way you smile now makes it look like you have everything you want in life. Owen never got tired of looking at you. He missed you like crazy and the truth was, you missed him too. You, yourself were too into thought to feel Owen slip his hand into yours. You looked at your hands as he lased your fingers together, like you had all those years ago.  You gave a small smile to Owen. You went back to overlooking the park when you leaned over, pressing your body into the arm of the chair, to lean your head on Owens shoulder, who in return, rested his head on yours.

You two stayed like that for several minutes before your eyes began to feel heavy.

"You should go to bed, Y/N." Owen said when he felt your head roll off his shoulder and you jerked your head back to his shoulder to do it all again.

"HMMM." You hummed softly to him. "Only if you come with." You added not moving.

"Ok, but only until you fall asleep." Owen got up and pulled you up along with him and led you into the room and into the empty bed. You sat on the bed, tiredly rummaging through your bag to change your clothes. You were half asleep to remember Owen was in the room, and half asleep to think he can't see you in the dark.  Once changed, you rolled under the covers and up against Owen's warmer body.

You woke up with the sun filtering into your room from the windows next to your bed. You let out a sigh and rolled over. pressing closer to the body next to you. Smiling to yourself as you remember who it is. You slowly opened your eyes and looked at him. Your husband of three years so far. Peter is now eight. You and Owen had another child, a little girl, Rosanna, shortly after you married. And now you have another one on the way. You smiled to yourself, remembering that if you and Peter hadn't gotten separated all those years ago at Jurassic World, you would have probably married someone else, and not to the man you truly love. You snuggled closer to Owen, who shifted and laid a hand on your slightly pregnant belly. Owen pressed a sleepy kiss on your head and then on your lips.

"Mornin' gorgeous " He mumbled in a super hot husky voice.  "How are my babies doing today?" Owen said rubbing your belly some more.

"One of them is completely fine, the other is in desperate need of some morning kisses though" You let out a giggle. Owen pressed one more kiss to your lips before pulling the blanket off of your bodies and into the slightly colder air of the room and began to place small kisses on every inch of your stomach. He rubbed it softly. He always did this, every morning and every night before bed, even when you were pregnant with Rosanna.

"Morning, baby. Try not to cause mama too much discomfort today ok?" You were still in your first trimester and the baby was still too small to even kick but Owen always waits for that day when the baby responds back to him.

[askthechaoticcharacters]

Mod Kou’s Intro~

Hihi all!! My name is Kou (also been called Crimson/Crispy), and I’m one of the mods of this lovely little chaotic blog! 

A little bit about me, I am a tiny, anxious fire bunny who loves music, drawing, and worldbuilding! (eh,, I’m always really bad at listing likes and dislikes lkgfgfk) I am very very terrified of spiders and I cannot, for the life of me, confront people. My main blog is @crimsonsolace and my art blog is @bunny-arts !!  I’ll most likely be answering asks with drawings and stuff ^^

Anyways, enough about me... Time to meet my characters! I’m gonna put them under a read more (which I just figured out how to do, yay!) so you don’t get floodedkdfslk 

Uh. be prepared for a lot of text. I’m so sorry. I got carried away. 

Earth Chat

Crimzon - A guardian Demon, born with only the reason to protect others in war. She came to Earth with no clear purpose, worried her illness would take her over and kill her before she found someone to serve. But, thankfully! She found a child, Willow, out on the streets with no caretakers! Despite being awful with children, she took matters into her own hands and now protects Willow as she searches for proper parents for the child! 

Trilis - Riil’s ‘mother’, having fled to Earth after their family was killed by a group of vampires. Though not actually their mother, Trilis is Riil’s Mom’s cousin, and they took it as their responsibility to care for the child, even though they have a deadly illness that will soon take their life. Unfortunately, Riil knows nothing of their dead family nor Trilis’s illness.. Oh! They also have an adopted child, Melody, and are good friends with Eos! They are,,, the Mama Demon that you NEVER mess with. terrifying.. uses a spear with a leaf etched on its blade.. other stuff,

Teen!Riil - The teenage version of Riil, a salty demon whose best friend is Beep! They refuse to go anywhere without either their mother (Trilis) or Beep with them unless they’re horribly upset, and can tend to get jealous when they see another child with their mother. They’re also very willing to throw down for their bestie, even if they wont admit he’s their best friendkfflkkfjgfd 

Universe - The goddess of the universe, a tall, joyful, kind woman! Married to Eos, her child is Osiris, she lives a happy life with her family and works at a lab! I dunno if there’s much to say on her, honestly,, 

Teen!Osiris - A teenage version of Osiris! Child of Universe and Eos, she’s like.. 16 here? They are very playful, still curious as ever, but is terrified of learning how to fly and sort of procrastinates on learning her magic and stuff. They’re a very childish life god ^^;

Faura + Ufio - FAURA! The, uh. Meme master and fourth-wall breaker of my bunch- She’s a witch who came to Earth to break free of her chains back home, and now runs Faura’s Bakery! She has a special interest in tech, after finding her best bud Ufio- which is a small UFO that she’s been fixing up ever since she found him in a junkyard! She’s also really, really clumsy,

Helroe + Gaser - The parents of Ainara, who brought her to Earth to punish her for attempting to run away. Both are magic users who force the same profession on Ain, despite the fact she’s always had difficulties with magic. They are cold, harsh, and often would refuse her food if she couldn’t study properly. They are bastards(tm) 

Earth!Ainara - This Ain is a mouse, and extra tiny! She’s also a magic user instead of an axe user, and is much more easily startled than the normal Ain. Thankfully, she was rescued and taken in by Axis, and now she lives with him sorta! Oh also she can turn into a littol mouse,

DnD Chat

Elyscia - An Elf bard who plays harp, violin, and piano! She’s elegant, glittery, and very charismatic! Has an adopted child, Connor, and a girlfriend, Nathala :> She’s... probably one of my most sane characters ngl. Oh also she’s 7′5-

Shizue - A Mermaid sorceress, doomed to be lost in the woods forever... The silly Mermaid has a very low attention span, and gets distracted by anything and everything very quickly! She’s seen with her big pet guinea pig, Chonk! 

Ainara - A Gnome barbarian wielding a giant axe, two handaxes, and a boomerang axe! Ran from her abusive parents and met her master Faerghis, who took her in and taught her how to use her weapons! However, they died, and she ended up in the forest of the DnD chat where she met her current best friend, Axis, and her adopted child, Willow! She is Feral Gnome.

DnD!Riil - Less than a year old, this Riil lost most of their family in an attack, found and saved by Roisin, their new mother. The small demon has made a dragon friend who they named Xilr, after their late brother, and a friend named Beep! 

Aav - The only other member of Riil’s family that survived, Aav is a sorrowful demon who only misses her siblings and her parents. She stays with Riil and Roisin, rarely speaking- but she’s a fast and silent demon with a gun, so don’t mess with her or her new family! 

DnD!Osiris - A young life god, the daughter of Universe and Eos! They are curious, love hair, and hates the fact their mom tries to cover their inhuman features with a cloak- but really, that’s only for their safety. Their token baby phrase is “BWBWBWBWBWBWB” and that is all you need to know 

DnD!Universe (Hevasrra) - The goddess of the universe, yet here she’s very disguised- hiding her normal godlike features under a more humanlike appearance. She also goes by her ‘true’ name rather than the one she prefers. Her wife is Eos, her child is Osiris! She’s a,, lot more on edge in this chat

Space Chat

Crimson - A nervous human(?) who came to the ship to escape her step-father, Crimson is sort of... Like a persona? But honestly, not really ^^; Her (best? Maybe?) friend is Tone (it is an important rule to know that if she dies, so does he,) and her enemy is Impo!Riil, who keeps trying to attack her! yay.. 

Impo!Riil - That’s right- an Imposter version of Riil! This is a version of them who found out about the fact Trilis was not their real mother, and they flew into a rage and killed them. Due to this, they turned to delusions, calling and talking to their spear as if it were “Mom”. It’s quite easy to tick them off, and once you do, they’ll become blinded by rage and try to attack you,, According to Blue. They need therapy badly