#my heart rate hasn't spiked this hard before.

[apocalyptic-dancehall]

i. how did i just freeze up like that

[theanonymousninja247]

Random Turtle HC: Raph & Anxiety

*clears throat and approaches microphone before hitting whiteboard with a ruler* A-HEM! Behold my theories peasants!

As we see expresses in the VERY 1st episode of ROTTMNT, the turtles can recognize each others signature scents and can smell fear.

Raph especially is shown briefly through the brothers dialogue to be the most aware and self conscious about said scent to the point of becoming defensive about it.

This leads me to believe that due to both natural biological olfactory senses and increased abilities due to mutation, the turtle brothers (with an advanced ability tipping to Raph due to his size and sensitivity) can actually smell the hormone cortisol.

WebMD defines cortisol as, “Your body’s main stress hormone. It works with certain parts of your brain to control your mood, motivation, and fear.”

Simply put, the turtle boys can literally smell fear.

Now I know you’re asking yourself, “Okaaaaaay cool fun fact I guess, what does that have to do anything with me?”

*takes a step back and adjust glasses with a smirk*

My dear dear fellow tumblr, allow me to share the wonders of mixing fact, madness and media all in one! *sounds of maniacal cackling can be heard*

(I wrote this with the intent to be platonic but it could be romantic if you squint long enough)

•So we've established Raph can smell fear right?

•As a protective big brother who is quite literally in fact “BIG” he knows a thing or two about getting scared

• Especially when it comes to looking out for people he cares about

•Hes been fighting baddies for his family since he was a tot! From keeping away scary dreams at night, from crushed ancient metal zombies to terrifying alien virus monsters, there ain't much he hasn't seen

•So when you join the ranks of the Mad Dogz, you immediately also get a built in prtoector

•Raphs been looking out for the little guys his whole life, what's one more?

•Not to mention you're kinda cute, so he doesn't mind sticking around a little bit closer

•But you're different than most folks, Raph notices. I mean besides the fact that you WILLING want to be friends with 4 mutant turtles of all things.

•No besides your abnormal incredible bravery in looking beyond the status quo to reach out the hand of friendship to these reckless reptiles, Raph noticed that you just kind of…smelled

•Not in a bad way or anything just…you always seemed to have a lingering scent of fear on you

•And Raph would know. Hed recognize that scent anywhere. It's a scent that ghosts every hour of every day for him. Nighttime and being alone especially.

•Raph hates being scared. He's the biggest and the oldest. He's supposed to look after his peeps! And he can't do that if he's frozen with fear all the time!

•So what does he do? Raph faces the problem head on like he always do.

•You get scared a lot. That's understandable, but Raph decides to make it his business that you don't need to be scared when he's around.

•Raph’ll protect ya

•Be prepared to have this turtle subtly (orrer not to much so because although he's a ninja he ain't exactly tactful or subtle) watching you every time you and the gang get all together

•Its not hard. You've always caught his attention for some reason or another. So looking at you is something he does without even realizing it.

•He’s looking for triggers, anything that gets that heart rate of yours spiking and that scent start to waft.

•Fidgeting hands, bouncing knees, shutting down and slinking into your hoodie, nervous chewing, pulling or playing with your hair and pacing, he's got eyes on it all.

•Once a trigger has been spotted, Raph immediately tries to locate the source

•Too many people? Suddenly you find a 6ft something giant turtle behind you, letting you know with his massive presence alone that he got your back. Literally.

•He kinda likes this position because he can see everyone that comes close enough to interact with you and everybody can see him.

•All he's got to do is narrow his eyes a little a give em a flash of that all too familiar snaggle tooth of his if he thinks someone's being mean and he gets his unspoken threat across just fine

•Not to mention you're also close enough to grab if someone he doesn't deem fit for your attention gets a little too close for his liking. But he doesn't say that part out loud.

•Scared of talking? You suddenly feel the cool tip of his massive scaely alligator tail (anatomically correct alligator tail be darned, I'm going with the fandoms HCs for this one) gently wrapping around your ankle as a physical reminder that he's right there here to support you

•Overwhelmed and the world feels like it's closing in on you? Raphs massive size is a natural battering ram that allows him to pass through thick crowds with easy. He's not afraid to help heard you into a quiet little corner away from it all

•Years of practice with Donnie allows him the experience to ask you if you're good with touch.

•If yes, you know you're going to be instantly wrapped into his arms, pulled flushed up against the worn keratin of his plastron. Raph’s always been more of “hands-on experience” kinda of guy anyway.

•Raph gives good hugs. They're firm and tight, padded with the security of arms who have been holding the weight of the world for years.

•He will rest his chin on top of your head, gently guiding your head with the motion ever so slightly so you're somehow perfectly nestled right against his heart.

•It's a loud heart, especially when you're up so close. It's actually his strongest muscle and one he's most proud of. He cares about you, so he reckons he’ll allow you the privilege of getting close to it. In more ways than one.

•Raph doesn't talk much during these special security hugs. He's never really been much good with words anyways. Raph knows sometimes the noise can be too much, but he also knows that the silence can be defeaning. So being a turtle comes with some built in perks that make up a happy medium.

•Hes got a special churr saved for special situations just like this one. It's one of the lowest and deepest ones he's capable of making. More akin to a muted growl more than anything the way it vibrates his chest as you're pressed up against it. You can feel it more than hear it and it just takes a handful of minutes listening to this bad boy before Raph can sense your fear stink slowly dissipating and your natural sweet scent can return.

•Raph can smell fear, and there's something incredibly humbling for this Atlas of a turtle to have the sweet experience of watching that scent drift away whenever he gets the privilege of being close to you like this.

•”You don't need to be scared no more, Sweet Pea. Raph’s got ya. I'm gonna be right here until you're ready to face the world again. Until then, let me just hold ya.”

Dedicated to the one and only @anobodyinabog. Sorry this took so long,but I hope your day gets better Shortcake. Please know you're always looked out for and loved ok? 🧡❤️

[raccoonhearteyes]

I love your castle au! Can you do 75?

They shouldn't be here.

This is so far out of Lexa's jurisdiction.

They could have her badge for this.

Detective Woods and her author sidekick have no business being in LA. But Lexa got a hit from an nationwide search that a murder with the same modus operandi as her mother's death happened here just yesterday.

It's the closest she's come to a lead in ten years, and she couldn't ignore it. She was at the airport the next morning, and was just as surprised to see Clarke waiting for her at the gate as Captain Gates was when she asked for a few days off.

Lexa hasn't quite figured out how to say no to Clarke. She's wormed her way into her routine, and she's honestly grateful that she doesn't have to face this completely alone. She's touched. Clarke has... grown... on her in the last year of their unwilling partnership. She's smart. Thinks in ways no one else does that lead to breaks in cases. And she's here without Lexa asking because she somehow knew this would make it easier.

They flew across the country, landing in the early evening, too late to get any real work done, too early to go right to sleep so they decided to have a drink by the pool.

Things have been charged since checking into the hotel. Something about being here together, unsanctioned by the NYPD feels scandalous. Clarke has been on her best behavior-- no fake flirting, no pushing Lexa's buttons. Just supportive. She even booked them a two bedroom suite so they have plenty of privacy. It's felt serious. Heavy.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" Clarke asks.

"I'm meeting with my friend in the LAPD to get the details on the murder here, then I'll follow the clues back to whoever is doing this."

"I'm coming with you."

"Fine, we are meeting with the LAPD."

Clarke nods, appeased for the moment. "This must be hard for you."

Lexa fidgets with her glass, unable to make eye contact. She feels unnerved by the whole ordeal. "I've wanted to solve this case since before I joined the force. It's why I joined the force, but it's been stagnant for nearly a decade. I didn't think there would ever be a break."

"Must feel like digging into old wounds."

Lexa nods, takes a deep breath, and admits her biggest fear, "What if I can't find them? What if I never get justice for my mom?"

Clarke scoots her chair closer to rest a hand on her knee, "You will."

Lexa looks down, then back into Clarke's eyes and holds her gaze. She sees Clarke's eyes flit down to her lips. Her own look at that freckle that sits just above Clarke's, and her heart rate spikes.

She's not ready. Not yet. She drags her eyes away from Clarke's and looks back at the pool. Some laps might help clear her head.

“I’m going for a swim. Do you want to join me?”

Clarke shakes her head as if to get rid of a thought, "I'm actually going to turn in for the night. Don't stay up too late. We have a big day tomorrow."

She stands and gives the detective a quick nod, then heads back to the room.

Both replay the last few minutes over and over for the rest of the night.

[moonyasnow]

For the torture meme

5 and 9?

from this ask game > vQ)

Thanks very very much for the questions!!! I do so love torturing my precious babies~ (not at all conflicting lol)

5. Which of them has the worst luck?

I'm gonna say Veronica...

In a way, her belief that the universe seems to be against her somehow isn't hard to understand because of how often things in her life just seem to go WRONG even if she hasn't done anything impulsive and cruel recently; even if she manages to keep one of the relationships in her life going smoothly by NOT giving in to her worst impulses, often something else happens that hurts or could potentially hurt the ones she love or otherwise threaten to separate them.

So when that's what she's become used to always happening whenever she gets attached to someone, it's no strange that she tries so hard to push others away before it can get to that point. She's just so tired of feeling all that hurt that comes from something bad happening to someone she loves, along with the feelings of guilt for not being able to save them.

As for number 9...

9. Has any of them had to be saved from the brink of death? Were there any consequences after?

Spike, Veronica & Artemisia

Spike almost dying after getting revenge for his friends is a big part of his backstory!

As for the consequences...he spent 3 months in a coma, and now has someone less than reputable looking to hire him straight after he graduates...and considering that someone was the one who got him to a hospital in the first place, somehow covered up the whole incident, and only got him to said hospital AFTER Spike had agreed to work for him...

Let's just say he doesn't seem like someone Spike's gonna be able to turn down on his own without there being consequences.

And in the fire that killed their parents, Veronica saved Victor from a pile of burning debris that fell from the ceiling by pushing him away. Though in the process, it fell on her instead.

If their relative Diaval, who went on to adopt them after the fire, hadn't arrived precisely when he did, and gotten her out from under that debris, it's very likely she would've died. But instead, all she was left with was s large burn scar across her back.

As for Artemisia...due to her heart condition, her skin was blue when she was born, and they had to preform some kind of surgery on her heart to save her life.

Though her heart condition still remained; it's just under control enough that she can live with it, though she still has to be very careful to make sure her heart rate doesn't become too high, or she could be in legitimate danger.

And the dark purple medicinal powder she has to drink to keep it in check not only tastes awful, but also has the risk to kill her if she gets the dosage wrong. She even had to be slowly eased into her current dosage, which would probably kill anyone who hadn't been eased into it in the same way. (I feel like this probably isn't how thresholds for overdoses work with medications irl...but this is fiction so fuck it I can do what I want)

[writingmysanity]

Petals petals, everywhere

Prompt: March daily prompts

Day 3: Petals

Word count: 1200

Pairing: Eskel x reader

A/N: so I wrote this yesterday, and totally didn't post it for whatever reason. please enjoy a day late. oops. also, as always, unbeta'd and all mistakes are my own. Thank you @queenxxxsupreme for helping with some ideas- though I wasn't able to do them all bc it would have been significantly longer than it already is. I will do the rest in other pieces. bc they are incredible.

“I'll only be out for a few hours,” you promise, hand resting on his cheek, soft smile making him relax. This isn't the first time you've been through these parts. You know what to expect. Sighing, he nods, hand moving to rest over yours, turning his face to place a gentle kiss on your palm.

He blinks, hearing your heart rate spike, but otherwise, doesn't mention it.

It's such a small gesture and you deserve larger gestures, he convinces himself

“If you’re sure,” his voice is so soft you just about melt, lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips, trying to keep your basket from getting in your way. He chuckles, not letting you pull away, an arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against him, lifting you slightly so your toes barely are able to scrape the ground so he can kiss you properly. You squeak a bit, fingers curling in his shirt.

“Eskel!” you laugh into the kiss, hands moving to his shoulders, fingers winding in his hair. You don't miss how he shivers at the contact.

“Hmm?” he smiles a bit, nipping your lip, eyes lighting up playfully. Sucking in deeply, you fight the whine that gets caught in your throat, breath coming out heavy and thick, eyes lidded. You know full and well that there's no way to hide how he's affecting you- his damned senses being too strong. He's aware of how hard your heart is slamming against your ribs, and you're sure much more as you lean forward the best you can with next to zero purchase.

“I..” you hum, each kiss a bit more chaste than the last, much to your displeasure. “Need… to go.” he just nods, kissing you again.

“Yes.”

“Then set me down,” he chuckles.

“What do you say?” whining, you try to hide the way your shoulders shake with quiet laughter.

“Please?”

With that, he sets you down on your feet gently, helping smooth your skirts back to normal, his grin making you want to kiss him again. But you cant. You need to hurry to the market before you end up home well after dark.

“Is there anything specific you’d like from the market?” you ask, clearing your throat, clutching your basket. He just shakes his head, smile softening.

“Just get home safely,” he answers, pecking your cheek lovingly. Nodding, you squeeze his hand once.

“Yes, my darling Witcher.”

He stands there, watching you head down the path until he couldn't see you anymore, looking around him at the growth.

“Something… Nice,” he whispers to himself. “Pretty, she likes pretty”

What he meant to be a simple gesture quickly got out of hand.

The sun is setting by the time you’re making it home, the fiery light glistening across the lake beside the cottage you’re currently calling home, the sight leaving you breathless.

“Eskel?” you call, turning to slide into the small abode, finding yourself having to squint to see anything. He hasn't lit the hearth yet, that's odd. There's no sound at first, making you frown. Suddenly, something moves to your left. The shadow all but pops out of nowhere, standing suddenly, moving entirely too quick for your liking with the fact you cant see.

Shifting too quickly, you slip, yelping in surprise and fear, closing your eyes tight expecting to hit the ground. Instead, two familiar arms wrap around you, holding you hovering above the floor. Head snapping up, hand on your chest, heart thundering you cant vaguely make out Eskel’s face. His expression is unreadable, bright eyes hard, making you swallow hard.

“Esk?” you hate the tremble in your voice, but you still haven't calmed your heart. He takes a deep breath, eyes softening sadly, mouth moving to speak, but his lip trembles so he clenches his jaw. The breath he lets out is slow, controlled.

“What’s wrong?” you ask slowly, hand moving to cradle his cheek. To your surprise, he sets you down, not letting you touch him.

“You…” he pauses, eyebrows furrowing, jaw set, taking a breath. “You’re afraid of me?” you pause, staring at him, gaping at him.

“No, no” you stammer out, words trying to pour out all at once as you rush to grab his hands, looking up at him. “I am not afraid of you, my love. You startled me. You haven't lit the fire. I can't see well in here right now. You were just a large shadow coming at me. I haven't your eyes, dearest witcher.”

He nods slowly, looking around as if he is only just realizing how dark it is in the room before taking his hands from yours gently.

“One moment” he whispers sheepishly, his voice still too quiet as he walks to the fireplace signing Igni to start the fire. The warm glow quickly envelops the room as he makes no moves to come back to you, shifting on his feet, staring at you nervously.

Frowning, you start towards him until you notice the floor feels funny under your boots. Looking down, you kick at the substance littering the floor in a literal blanket, eyebrows raising.

“What is all this?” he clears his throat, smiling sheepishly, petals falling from his hands when he bends to scoop some up.

“I uh… was trying to surprise you.” he hums, scratching the back of his neck, taking a steadying breath to look at you fully. “I guess I got carried away,” he grumbles, making your lips twitch. Looking around, you notice that petals cover every inch of the floor.

“There's so many” you laugh, bending to copy his previous action, watching them fall slowly back to the floor. “How did this even happen?” he pouts.

“It started with flowers,” he starts, motioning to the table where a bouquet of flowers are bundled beautifully, each of the blooms brightly colored and expertly placed. You nod, following, moving to look at them more closely.

“They are beautiful,” you hum, bringing them to your nose to sniff. He smiles wider, happy he didn't mess that up, your heart much calmer- if fluttering just a bit. Besides the bundle is a small package wrapped in brown paper, secured with twine. Grabbing it gently, you hold it up.

“What’s this?”

“Chocolates.” he looks nervous, eyes downcast, glancing up at you occasionally. “I got them in the last town we were in,” he explains.

“These were costly, Eskel,” you frown a bit, placing them down with the flowers, turning to him, placing your hands on his chest to look up at him. He shrugs.

“Worth it, if you like them.”

Smiling, you lean up to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Why?”

“Because you deserve it?” he looks at you confused. Shaking your head amused, you pat his chest gently.

“No, my love. Why all of this?”

“Because you deserve it,” he repeats as if it's obvious. Softening, you nod. No need to upset him more. He's worked hard.

“I love my flowers and chocolates,” he relaxes, shoulders slumping in relief. “And my thousands of petals.” you tease, making him whine pitifully.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

--

Tag list: @errruvande @thesleepy1 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @queenxxxsupreme @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @open--till--midnight @one-eyed-captain-kinky

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

[stefciastark]

Worthy ~Webpril Day 8

A/N: At almost my 4a.m, here it is! The concluding part to yesterday's little 'hidden injury' combined prompt fill. For some reason, these last two were harder for me to write, and I couldn't quite get this one to sound the way I wanted it to in my head (being sleep deprived probably hasn't helped haha). The struggles of writing sometimes - some ideas are just stubborn and don't always come out how you want them to haha Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

~Read it on AO3

~Read it on FFN

“I’m good, just a bit tired...had a big week of homework and helping Aunt May with the charity stuff y’know.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed from behind the suit’s helmet, his gaze a level of intensity usually only directed to dealing with complicated circuitry, mathematics, or playing the intimidation game with Nick Fury. Now that was some bullshit. Tony had known Peter for long enough to know that the more excuses the kid gave, the more likely it was that he was lying. Tony could practically taste the blood that Peter kept trying to subtly spit onto the pavement when he thought he wasn’t looking.

Above all, however, Tony wasn’t sure whether to be angry that Peter was trying to lie about how he was feeling and thought his biometrics weren’t being transmitted to Tony’s HUD at all times (it’s Stark technology, of course it would be), or whether he should be concerned about some form of brain damage because it didn’t seem to cross Peter’s usually so sharp and quick mind at all that his biometrics would be transmitted.

Tony decided he couldn’t watch Peter struggle with moving what were some of the lightest pieces of rubble anymore. Cutting the power to the repulsors, he landed next to where Peter was trying and failing to nonchalantly lean against the tower of debris they had begun to stack, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re done, kiddo. I’ve got it from here.”

The HUD inside the suit displayed an increase in blood pressure, which F.R.I.D.A.Y informed him was likely a result of ‘the human body’s response to acute pain.’ Tony knew Peter was a tough kid, but the way Peter moved looked stiffer than the Doombot metal corpses that were now strewn about the streets of Manhattan.

“No no, I’m good, see?” Peter returned to shifting the (smaller) pieces of rubble onto the pile. Tony had a feeling he was only continuing to wear his mask to prevent the undoubtedly pained expression on his face from telling Tony all he needed to know.

If Tony could pinch the bridge of his nose through his helmet at that moment, he would. He knew a compassionate and understanding approach should be the first port of call, but it would take the strength of a god like Thor himself to summon the patience he needed to deal with the situation at hand. He was tired, possibly mildly concussed after his skull had repeatedly hit the inside of his helmet at least eighteen times that afternoon, and he couldn’t wait for the day to be over so he could hit ‘reset’ on life and enter into the welcoming void of sleep.

Peter would have five minutes to come clean. Five minutes was about as long as Tony gave himself before his celestially bestowed patience wore out. Tony gave Peter a once-over once more as he continued to collect the smaller pieces of fragmented concrete. Tony returned to scanning the surrounding buildings for any hidden damages to the infrastructure, still making sure to keep Peter in his peripheral, his biometric data continuously updating on the top left of the suit’s inner display.

After five agonising minutes and another spike in Peter’s heart rate, Tony sighed in resignation and approached Peter. “Kid. Stop.”

Peter looked up, having taken his mask off moments before, happy to feel fresh air on his face for the first time since the fight began. Moreso, Peter was happy to have anything that felt like it restricted his already strained breathing off of his face. Tony could empathise with the feeling - experiencing an elephant sitting on your chest didn’t make the job of breathing any easier.

Peter’s expression to his instruction was one he’d seen too frequently; it was the one that bled with innocence, accompanied by the wide-eyed stare of a young Labrador puppy. “Yeah, Mr Stark?”

The helmet receded from Tony’s face so Peter was able to take in his blended countenance; it was something hovering between disappointment and barely concealed concern.

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me? Maybe...I don’t know, an injury?” Peter blanched as he felt Tony’s probing eyes drilling into his own before clearing his throat.

He began to return to cleanup duties, hoping that if he ignored the situation for long enough, it’d go away. “No, Mr Stark, everything is -” Big mistake.

Another round of Peter’s half-baked excuses and deflection were cut off as Tony interrupted. “Zip it, you’re busted. You can try to hide it from me all you want, but F.R.I.D.A.Y knows better.”

Peter cursed under his breath. Even after spending considerable time in Tony’s Spider-Suits, he still sometimes forgot about the extent of the capabilities of the technology and AI programming that came with the package. While there was no point in hiding it anymore, Peter couldn’t stop himself before he insisted, “really, it’s okay.”

“It obviously isn’t,” Tony said, unable to prevent his tone from taking on a scathing and acerbic quality. Dragging his hand down his face, he paused and took a deep breath, seeing the way Peter’s features were pinched with hurt he was trying so hard to hide. Tony had a feeling that that hurt extended beyond just the physical; it was just wrong. “Look, kid, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to hide your injuries. I mean not like it’s possible anyway, you’re wearing my suit, for one. You should’ve known better.”

Tony supposed his frustration stemmed from the fact that he felt like he was looking into a mirror. He had wanted for Peter to find that little grey area to operate in in more than one capacity, yet instead Peter was currently taking a page out of Tony’s book, and not one of the good ones. ‘Don’t do anything I would do’. Well, attempting - poorly - to conceal any and all injuries unfortunately fit the profile. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do’. Tony had to give Peter credit; that book hadn’t been opened.

“I just didn’t want to disappoint you again.” Peter saw the way Tony almost imperceptibly flinched as soon as the word ‘again’ left his lips. Chewing on his bottom lip momentarily and stopping when he tasted blood, Peter waited for Tony’s response. The silence persevered and Tony didn’t offer one.

Peter couldn’t quite tell what was going on beneath the surface with his mentor. At times, Tony was able to make himself so unreadable that it made Peter both envious and afraid. Envious, because Peter hated the way he was such an open, easily read book at times, and afraid for the aftermath of whatever Tony kept repressed under the surface. It was like a game of Russian Roulette, except Peter sometimes wondered which he’d really prefer; Tony’s disapproval or the actual bullet.

“I…” Peter continued, fixing his eyes on one particular pigeon feather that was floating in circles just in front of his left foot. He found himself pouring out his latest insecurities against his own will; at least he told himself it was against his will and that it was the pain’s fault. “I don’t feel like I belong with you guys. You’re all older, you’ve seen more stuff, battled more aliens and wizards. You all know what you’re doing and here I am, the young kid from Queens who doesn’t really deserve his place next to the Avengers.”

Silence.

Before Peter could react to the shadow that started to loom over him, he felt himself being pulled into a not-too-tight embrace that managed to expertly avoid his sore spots. He couldn’t help the tears that prickled at the corners of his eyes and fought to keep them from flowing over.

“Just so we’re clear on a couple of things. First, none of us know what we’re doing, get that out of your head. Second, you’re every bit worthy of being here.”

The sound of propellers were suddenly very close, and Peter wondered how on earth he’d missed them altogether.

“Third, get in the helicopter. I don’t want to hear a single complaint about it, kapeesh? We’re taking you to medical.”

A/N: Tomorrow's prompt is going to be quite an interesting one to fill. Tomorrow's prompt fill might also be a little bit later than usual. I've got quite a lot on my plate approaching the weekend, so worst-case scenario, I'll update twice in one day ;) Definitely going to try not to let that be the case though :) x Thank you for your continued support and encouragement!

[fullmarvelheart]

Monsters & Pancakes

Pairing: Avengers x Enhanced!OFC

Word Count: 2,462

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and familial loss.

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 3! I hope you all enjoy the story as well as the characters! Image is not my own. All rights go to the original creator.  Sorry this took so long to get out! I hope you enjoy reading it!

Series Masterlist

I slowly begin to wake and curl more into the couch. My body feels less heavy than it usually does, more alert. That alone has me feeling uneasy before I realize I'm on my couch... not my bed.

I shoot up in terror knowing fully well that he did something to me, that Loki made me pass out. Though, the fast movement throws me off balance and I end up tumbling to the floor. While pushing myself up with a groan, I hear hurried footsteps rush towards me on the floor.

"What in Odin's name are you doing on the floor?" He chides somewhere behind me.

"What did you do to me?" I sneer while turning towards his voice.

"Just a simple sleeping incantation." He tells me while nonchalantly crossing his arms.

"Why?" I growl while forcing myself to stand. He sighs while rolling his eyes.

"For one, I was brought, somehow, to this place, against my will might I add. So, my trust in you was not and is not very high. Another reason I kept you asleep, after I explored to make sure it was safe, was because it appeared that you needed it." He explains in a very frustrated tone. I take a deep breath.

"I guess we're even then." He looks at me curiously. "Both being kidnapped by the other..." I elaborate.

"Not quite..." He states while I cock an eyebrow. "Your name... I still do not know it."

I sigh while trying to run a hand through my very knotted dirty-blond hair.

"People call me 'Saddie'." I tell him while walking to my room to retrieve my brush.

"You didn't answer my question." He huffs.

"Yes, I did." The retort comes out more bitter than intended but I don't care to change it.

"I asked for your name, not a nickname. I told you my name without the added titles."

"'Of Asgard' isn't an added title?" He groans at the sarcastic remark while I carefully brush the wavy tresses.

"Your name?" He asks again, though annoyed.

I sigh, not wanting to say it out loud.

"No need to tell me, you just did." He chuckles darkly from the hallway.

"What?!" I yell.

"Don't worry, Sadira, I think it's a very unique name." I feel my face grow hot with anger and notice the lightbulbs starting to flicker.

I storm out of my room only to spot him standing frozen in the hallway, staring at the flickering bulbs.

"Do NOT use that name!" He turns around to face me quickly. "And stop reading my DAMN MIND!" I scream.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

"I give you my word, not to do that again." He tells me.

I scoff.

"I don't know if I believe you."

I brush past him and make my way to the kitchen. I haven't eaten since before I left for work, however long ago that was. As the thought of food crosses my mind, my stomach growls painfully and I resist the urge to groan because of it. God, I want something sweet.

As I begin to prep my meal. I see Loki leaning on the doorway, just observing.

"Do you want anything?" I ask, my head deep into the refrigerator.

"Sure." I hear in reply. "As long as you don't poison it." I half-chuckle.

"You never know..."

I begin to pull ingredients together and place them on the counter.

"Why did you teleport into the middle of the street?" I ask while focused on the food in front of me.

"Huh?"

"Well, you suddenly appear on Earth in the very early morning, looking very upset or unnerved for whatever reason, and then appear to want to blend in. Seeing as you're wearing... what do you call it... ah, Midgardian clothes, instead of what looked like a cape when I first saw you. It looks to me like you're on the run." I explain.

"You saw that?"

"I saw everything. The beam that brought you here and everything that followed until you spotted me." I say, while waving a spatula around as I talk.

"But why did you think I was on the run? Maybe you are yourself." My eyes snap up to meet his. "You have nothing personal in here. No pictures of family... friends, no images at all. Not even a plant." He pries while moving closer to me.

"Because I have none."

"What?"

"I have no friends or family." I growl while tightly gripping onto the spatula.

I move my eyes back onto the food I'm preparing in order to prevent the tears in my eyes from spilling. And I try so hard as to push them back.

"Now, are you on the run?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"In a sense... Yes. Are they actively looking for me? No. No harm will come to you because of it."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in at his explanation.

"Who are you hiding from?" He asks, carefully.

"Too many people to list." I chuckle darkly as I put the mixture into a pan. "Mainly HYDRA though. Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't been able to completely rid the world of them." I grumble.

"Ugh, S.H.I.E.L.D." He grunts with such distaste.

"I take it you've encountered them." I state while looking at him from the corner of my eye.

He hums in acknowledgement while I flip the item in the pan.

"Well I haven't, but I'm grateful for them nonetheless. If it wasn't for S.H.I.E.L.D, HYRDA would still have me. And I don't want to imagine the horrors that would come from that."

I begin to plate what I had prepared before washing and cutting up some strawberries.

"What is your favorite fruit?" I ask faintly.

"What?"

"Do you have a favorite fruit?" I ask again, though slightly annoyed.

"No, none that I know from Midgard." He says, very confused.

I hum while taking a can of whipped cream from the fridge.

After stacking two pancakes, I drizzle the cut strawberries on top before adding a spiral of whipped cream and a drizzle of maple syrup. I pass the finished plate to him along with a fork and knife before doing the same to my plate. I walk to the fridge and put all the ingredients away, but not before spraying some of the cream into my mouth.

I look back at Loki and notice he wears a disgusted expression.

"What? My house, my rules. And besides, it's for good luck." I defend while stabbing my fork into a piece of a pancake.

He scoffs but says nothing. I shake my head and continue eating. My thoughts begin to wander to all the events that occurred today, when I gasp.

Loki gives me a strange look as I run over to the living room and turn the TV on the first news station I find. The Q-Ship is still being played all over each network with the headlines reading "Attack on New York City". Various "experts" talk and give their predictions of what it means or what's going to happen. I scowl at the stupidity of those so-called "experts". The really have NO idea what the hell is going on.

Tony Stark's face shows up on the screen as the title reads "Missing". I hope that he's still alive, still in the fight. I know we'll need him. I mean, they'll need him.

Hpmh "we'll"...?

I am NOT getting involved in this anymore.

The image then changes to Cull Obsidian and Ebony Maw giving their oh-so nauseating "rejoice because of our presence" speech. I growl at their faces immediately causing the TV and the lights to begin to flicker.

"You know the Black Order." It's not a question but a statement. I turn to face Loki who has an uncertain look on his face.

I sigh, but say nothing to confirm or deny before looking back at the TV. What's the point? The answer is already known.

"Saddie... How do you know them?" He says inching closer to me. I can feel the spike of his heart-rate, I can feel his fear as if it was my own. Though, some of it is my own fear too.

"I guess that's who you're running from." I half-heartedly say with a chuckle. Though, I'm not even sure I'm correct.

"How do you know Thanos?" He asks slowly, cautiously, scared of a reaction. My reaction.

And he should be, because at the mention of his name, I begin to shake uncontrollably.

"Please... Please, don't. You don't want to know." I croak, shutting my eyes from the new tears in my eyes pushing to be set free.

Before either of us can do anything, the screen changes to "Possible Alien Attack in Scotland".

"Now why the hell would they go to Scotland?" I ponder out-loud with tears still rimming my eyes.

My eyes widen in slight fear before I pivot to face Loki.

"When was the last time you faced the Black Order?" I question quickly, harshly brushing off the lone tear that fell.

He flinches from my sudden actions, but remains silent.

"You're running from Thanos and his children. What happened to cause you to run?" I push because I need to know. If this is what I think it is, I'm not safe anymore, no one is.

Still there is silence...

"Tell me!" I scream at him.

His face scrunches briefly before he sighs.

"The day I arrived on Midgard. Ragnarok happened to my realm, Asgard. Me and my brother, Thor, we escaped with our people. Then Thanos arrived, he wanted the Tesseract. Inside was one of the six Infinity Stones. They're-"

"I know what they are. But did you just give one of the stones to him?! Why would you even consider that?!" It can't be the same Thor as... No, no it's just a similar name. Focus Saddie!

"I didn't! Not at first! He already had one! He had the Power Stone, and he had my brother! And he was torturing him for the stone! You have no idea what that's like. To bargain for the life of someone you care about!" His words send a dagger to my heart and I feel the burn of tears in my eyes again.

"I have every idea what that is like! That is why I have no family left!" I scream, the lights start flickering again.

Silence envelops the room again except for our raging breaths slowly calming down from our shouting.

"Balance... That's what he calls it. Where there is an entire population, Thanos will leave half. Two planets in a system, one remains untouched. Two siblings..." I trail off and only one tear rolls down my cheek. "You were the sibling that should have died... weren't you?" My voice soft with sadness and understanding.

He says nothing, he doesn't need to.

"You need to tell your brother you're alive." I say choking back a sob.

"What? I can not simply do that! You have no ide-"

"STOP SAYING THAT! I lost my twin sister because of that monster!" I scream. "I am in your brother's shoes. I mourn the loss of my sister everyday! I blame myself! He needs to know, he needs to know you're still alive!" The tears have been rolling in uncontrollable waves down my face before I inhale a deep breath and exhale, slowly willing myself to calm down.

"There are more Infinity Stones on Earth... That is the only possible explanation for his presence here." I reason while the tears slow.

I kneel down and extend my palm on the ground. Reaching my power outward, I let myself connect to the Earth. It's over-powering and extremely painful to do because of my limited practice, but I persist.

"What are you-"

I let myself slip into the feel of the world, the magnitude of power it possesses, but I feel it. One form of power that exists above all else on this planet. The only Infinity Stone on Earth. I gasp, call back my abilities, and fall backwards. The power surges, then every electric source in my house flickers to black. I sit in the dark silence as I still can feel the stone somewhere in New York, somewhere close by. The power goes back on and I turn to a stunned Loki.

Tapping into the city's power supply, I try to recharge my energy as quickly as I can before sitting up, and pushing past the annoying man in my living room.

"Where are you going?" He calls out as I throw the door open to my room.

"There's an Infinity Stone still on Earth. Either the Black Order, or Thanos will be there. I'm going." I tell him as I drag a chest from under my bed.

"What?! Are you mad?!"

"Possibly..." I mutter to him as I throw the lid open.

Possibly? Try undeniably!

Yeah, I'm so not getting involved in this... dammit.

Inside the chest various knives, daggers, and even my bo-staff lie waiting to be used. Most of the metals are specifically designed for me by the Mad Titan himself. Smiling to myself at the comfort my weapons bring, I use my power to throw Loki out of the room and shut the door. After locking it, I begin to change, but not into one of the garbs I wore while my sister was still alive.

Instead, I slip on the suit HYDRA had made for me before I escaped. It's a navy catsuit that almost resembles Black Widow's own one. I zip it up to my neck then pull on black lace-up boots and my black fingerless gloves. I arm myself to the teeth with several small knives, four daggers (the two largest, from my time with HYDRA, rest on my thighs), and the bo-staff that extends into my favorite duel-bladed weapon.

Sealing the chest back up and returning it under my bed, I unlock and open the door to which Loki stumbles in. Apparently, leaning on the door was smart. A very, very, smart idea indeed.

He scoffs at my thoughts when he regains his composure. Though, I recall telling him not to read my mind anymore, I have more important things to do than to yell at him. Instead, I settle for an eye roll.

Looking me up and down as I place my long hair into a high ponytail, his mouth hangs open as he stares. I ignore the goosebumps that erupt under his gaze. Wow, do I need more male interaction or what? Mentally chastising myself, I clear my throat, bringing his attention back to me, or to my eyes.

"Please don't do anything destructive while I'm gone." I practically beg before teleporting away.

Chapter 4