#oc: tiny

[a-little-birdy-told-me]

A simple "meet my kid" would have sufficed, Mick-

[sleepyfan-blog]

Tiny's Mischief

Author’s Note: This is the next fic in the Raised on Terra AU! First. Previous. Next. A big thanks to @undeaddream for letting me borrow their OC VM-5307 “Tiny” For this fic!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @sharenadraculea @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan 

Warnings: Questionable parenting

Summary: Tiny has a grand time showing its charges around the vent system of the Imperial Palace. They really don’t know what all the fuss is about when they return with their charges to feed them. 

Tiny had been teaching its charges how to understand the binaric clicking and chirping it used to communicate with other beings. The other caretakers were teaching their charges how to speak in Gothic and a handful of other languages popular among the flesh-lovers of the Sol System. All four of it's charges were of high intelligence and had begun to try and mimic the sounds that VM-5307 made in rudimentary attempts to communicate, which had warned the regulatory circuits within the tech Priests' body. Working with infants was always a tricky endeavor, but incredibly rewarding when one saw the progress that they had made, even over a relatively short span of weeks to months. Truly, the human mind - a gift from the  Omnisiah - was a spectacular thing. As its charges were much more mobile than when they had been first introduced to it, Tiny had taken it upon itself to introduce them to its favorite way of getting around the Imperial Palace.

While it was true that unless their growth slowed down significantly, they would become far too large to navigate the Imperial Palace using the ventilation system before they were fully grown, the fact that they knew that there were beings capable of moving around in the vents and would do so was a valuable lesson to learn. Also the tight, twisting pathways of the vents were an excellent way to teach them how to navigate nearly identical looking pathways without getting lost or confused, which was a skill that Tiny was confident that they would need in their lives. 

Tiny was also fascinated by the fact that their personalities were already starting to develop at this age. Seven was generally the quietest of their four charges, and seemed to prefer parallel play with blocks or other building-type games, though the little one had occasionally shown sparks of a mighty temper when his carefully constructed little walls had been knocked down accidentally or otherwise by his brothers. 

Four also liked building things with his hands, though the little infant also took delight in knocking over other's structures - Seven's in particular - and occasionally tried to take Ten's favored stuffed animals when Ten was busy playing or itneracting with one of his brothers. 

Ten had a clear preference for playing with Three, when he was allowed to freely mingle with his brothers, though he was also somewhat drawn to playing with Thirteen as well, if Three was sleeping or otherwise engaged in play and wouldn't pay attention to Ten. Ten also liked eating anything he could fit inside his mouth, whether or not it counted as food for a baseline human being.

Especially rocks. Any kind of rock would do. Even the shining gemstones that adorned the armor of the custodes on guard, although how Ten had managed to rip off one of the smaller gemstones and begin to bite through it before anyone had noticed was beyond Tiny. Ten also liked to build and create things, though given that Tiny had been put in charge of the four Primarchs who were meant to create different sorts of weapons and armor, alongside their capabilities for war and the leading of mankind, this wasn't a surprise. 

Eighteen had proven to be the most gregarious and friendly of Tiny's four charges, often playing with each of his brothers in turn. But he did like to make things as well and seemed to have a strong sense of justice - he very much did not like it when one brother tried to steal toys from another and used his large bulk to enforce the rules as he saw them. 

It was fascinating to see their personalities continue to emerge as they got older. None of them were at the walking stage yet, but they were quite proficient in crawling around and their visual and auditory senses were acute enough for vent surfing to be a viable option. Tiny was mindful to not allow the little primarchs to explore past the wing of the Palace that had been designated for them just yet, as the Omnisiah had decreed. The Primarchs were too young and too vulnerable to be potentially exposed to more of the outside world, even if that outside world was other parts of the palace, according to His Imperial Eminence. 

From Tiny's experiences with little tech priests, he knew that as soon as they could speak and begin comprehending the world around them more fully, they would definitely start to chafe under the incredibly strict supervision that they were being put under, but perhaps the restrictions put in place as they were infants would ease up as they grew older - which it should. Little ones needed time and space to learn, to make mistakes in order to learn and grow properly. While failure was an acrid, bitter thing, learning how to handle failure and frustration from a young age was crucial for one's development, which was why Tiny was sitting back and observing its charges as they crawled around the vent system, trying to find their most preferred toys in spots in the vents that he had placed for them to find.

Eighteen in particular was proving to be quite possessive of his things and disliked being made to share, for all his friendliness and warmth. Eighteen had also found his most favored toy - a small plush dragon and was cuddling it close to his chest, burying his face in the soft material with a happy burble. 

Four was crawling on his hands and knees towards Eighteen, one tiny hand reaching out to grab the dark green and gold dragon toy.

Eighteen spotted his brother and growled, turning away and bodily blocking Four from even seeing the toy.

Four started pouting, lower lip sticking out, tears starting to form in his eyes before both Eighteen and Four heard a squeal from Seven. Both of them began to crawl towards where Seven had managed to wedge himself in the vents, tiny limbs flailing as he attempted to right himself.

Tiny began counting to itself. If the infant didn't manage to free himself by the time they reached one hundred, they would aid the little Primarch in getting free. But this sort of trial and error was excellent for the little ones' development,both in their physical motor skills and their ability to problem solve on their own. 

Seven continued to flail from where he'd gotten himself wedged, starting to successfully pull himself out of the hole he'd gotten stuck in when ten came rushing over as fast as his hands and knees could carry him. SEven grabbed the vabric of Seven's onesie and yanked hard, both of them toppling over and hitting their heads against the bare metal with solid thunks. 

Seven began to hiccup and sniffle near-silently, as he usually did when he cried. Ten laid still for several second before starting to wail and kick. 

Four and Eighteen rushed over to their brothers, sitting down next to them and started to wail in solidarity. The four of theirs crying echoing loudly through the ventilation system.

Tiny let them cry for a minute or two before gathering them up and rocking the still crying babies back and forth, crooning a binaric lullaby that it remembered that its' own caretaker had sung to them when they were very small and the world was so very big and terrifying. They checked the time and sighed, unsurprised not note that it was close to their feeding time. They always got more easily e motional and upset when hungry, a common flaw among fleshed humanity as a whole. Tiny retrieved the other three infants favorite toys and climbed through the vents, their charges secure in their mecha-dendrites. They popped the cover of the vent off in the Primarchs' nursery room and hopped down, charges still securely being held as it went over to the formula dispenser, acquiring a bottle for each of its charges, settling down to feed them.

Half-way through feeding Eighteen - the third to be fed - one of the custodes on guard duty poked their helmeted head into the room and scowled "Where the f-... Where have you been? And your charges! All five of you have been missing for hours!"

Tiny clicked back serenely, the translator servo skull that followed them everywhere whirring to life and interpreting for them [Showing charges vent system, letting them explore and learn more of their surroundigns. Returned before they became hungry. Feeding time, followed by naptime. Quiet voice, if you please.]

The Custodian grumbled something under their breath and left, stomping off.

the strange emotional outbursts of the fleshed were none of Tiny's concern unless they tried to threaten it or its charges, so the tech priest ignored their retreating form as it continued to feed its charges.

[bonefydskeleton]

It’s Tiny’s first time participating in Fasnacht Day since I had to start from square one on PC and the Scorchbeast mask is SO CUTE I had to draw her with it

[basilone]

Sometimes, war is the province of women. An alternate take on the battle for air dominance over the skies of Europe during World War Two, as told through the stories of an American all-female bomber crew and the people around them.

This is a collection of standalone works that all interlock to form one big patchwork quilt of stories. It will see new additions every so often, especially because a lot of it is written to prompts. The collection on AO3 is my best attempt at organizing it in chronological order.

[click here for the WIP story collection!]

Want to know a little more about the OCs featured in this collection? Please click the readmore below!

Charlotte “Lottie” Rivers-Mayhew Fighter pilot turned bomber pilot Can fly anything, will try anything. Big mouth, little heart. Lives in the land of innuendo and crude jokes. Loud about her whole existence. Very smart, but downplays that like whoa. Julie “Jules” Langdon Bomber pilot Runs this gig and everyone else just needs to get with her program. Great at reading people the riot act. Comically unimpressed by everything that lands in her path. Nosewrinkles at any and all delays. Known for slipping people an extra bite to eat. Christina “Tiny” Heartfield Bomber co-pilot Needs five hours to get ready for any kind of social event. Silver spoon baby. Knows all the gossip and all the good songs. Gets a little bit stressed about flying in warzones. Loves a good ghost story. Eleanor “Nora” Graham Navigator The Mom Friend. Prone to giving hugs and peptalks. Bossy and quite rude when things don’t go her way. Cannot flirt her way out of anything. If you see her running, that’s just standard procedure. Valerie “Val” Hodges Radio operator Absolute poker-faced ballsy liar. Most innocent face in the whole crew. Smokes more than her job should allow. Will try to wiggle out of any lectures by offering the most inane excuses. There’s not a puzzle she can’t solve. Genevieve “Two” Hodgson Tail gunner Shows up late to everything except the war. Always chewing gum. Queen of half-hearted salutes and vague politeness. Keeps saying she’s too poor for this level of bullshit. Has a mean right hook. Madeleine “Push” Perrault Flight engineer Making lists calms her down. Can and will call you stupid in four different languages. Thinks planes are better than people. Voice like a foghorn with the attitude to match. Believes she can fix anything. Evelyn “One-Eye” Carter Ball turret gunner Happy-go-lucky baby of the group, rolling with life’s punches. Will talk your ear off. Could probably get away with murder. Best gunner in the crew. Can be painfully naïve. Dorothy “Dee” Llewellyn Waist gunner Born a pessimist. Genuinely thinks no man should ever sport a mustache. Has a limitless supply of stories about her family. Very protective. Would inspire a riot if anyone ever let her talk long enough without interruptions. Maxine “Max” Morrison Waist gunner Bold and brash and crackling with energy. Cracks more bad jokes than anyone alive. Has developed some rather complicated handshakes. Will interrupt any event or conversation. If you see her running, something’s probably chasing her. Stella “Frosty” Lombardi Bombardier Icy calm in any crisis. Can calculate any bomb drop. Complains about the food. Is a true girl’s girl and refuses to so much as speak to most men. Never wants to miss out on the fun.

Lucille Dorrance-Jones, goes by Lucy Jones Nurse The singlemost stubborn person on the planet. Thinks some injuries are fascinating. Harbors a healthy distrust of bureaucracy and paperwork. Can probably drink you under the table. Encourages anyone to sing. Cressida Dorrance-Jones Interrogator Sharp as a tack. Does not forgive, does not forget. Secretly more big-hearted than people would give her credit for. Really wants to fly a plane. Has an ongoing one-sided vendetta with Meatball. Darlene Mayfair Mechanic Cheerful and spirited. Very gifted storyteller. Turns shy when complimented. Ride or die for people and sticks with them longer than they might deserve. Marches to the beat of her own drum. Georgina “George” Campbell Mechanic Has a soft spot for strays. Suffers no fools. Is here to win a war, not ogle cute men. Perpetually fighting a losing battle against the grease stains on her uniform. The best co-conspirator you could ask for. Imogene “Genie” Chapman Clubmobile girl Very outgoing people-person. Better at giving advice than at taking it. Designated hair-cutter. Loves movies and dancing. Knows just about anybody by name. Jack Ellis OSS Doesn’t miss a beat. No-nonsense natural leader. Very determined to do what he believes is the right thing. Talks about the war in terms of ���the game”. Warm and caring once he lets his guard down.

[zuulosdovah]

I dug up my old pathfinder characters yet again for a short animation project ❤ This is my first 2D project of this scale, i'm had a lot of fun with it

[creepymarshmallow3]

How would it be like if J.J met Tiny, and Tiny met J.J? (Wants to see them interact with each other)

^^

Tiny will be scared at first, because she doesn't trust strangers, no matter who they are or how they behave.

But Jacob will be able to get her attention by making her laugh a little from his puns, plus he is a clown, Tiny loves clowns as well as toys, sweets and her dad, so overall they will be good friends. Eve, her plush bunny smiles a bit)

[smolgloves]

Stargazing

"Are we almost there?!" The tiny Neera asked excitedly. 

"Yeah, just hang tight for a few more minutes." Aaron chuckled, passing through the unkempt grass. It had been a month since he ditched GB's headquarters for the Neera without a name. She was an interesting character, being created in a lab meant she had extensive knowledge on biology and medical terms but when Aaron asked her if she had ever seen the constellations in the sky, her response was "what's a constellation?" 

That settled it, Aaron was going to take her somewhere special to celebrate her new life where she is free to explore the world around her. So he set out to go to the water tower behind the supermarket, rust had chipped away the blue paint long before the apocalypse began; which made Aaron wonder if the city ever used it. They must have because the ladder now looked like it was about to fall off if he just took one step on it, but Aaron wasn't about to walk away. He marched right up to that rickety ladder and started climbing. It groaned and wobbled but otherwise stayed steady. 

"What are we doing?!" The Neera poked her head out, which prompted Aaron gently pushed her back in. 

"Haven't I told you that you're not supposed to ruin your own surprise." 

She let out a sigh. "Yeah, but this is taking forever!" 

"Trust me, it's worth it." A smile crept on Aaron's face as he made it to the top. Memories of Aaron and his friends sneaking up the water tower to smoke pot came crashing down on him like a wave. He often wondered if any of his buddies were out there trying to survive like he was or were they torn apart by zombies like everyone else? Aaron's brown eyes wandered to the sky and all the grim thoughts were pushed away. 

"We're here." Before Aaron could even open his shirt pocket, the Neera was already scrambling out, he quickly scooped her up to keep her from falling and set her down on the rusty railing. 

"So what's the surprise?!" 

Aaron just smiled and pointed up at the sky. 

The Neera's crimson eyes lit up once she saw the blue and purple colors with speckles of white stars splattered across the night sky. "I've never seen anything like this before." 

"These are things you won't find in a lab, that's for sure." 

"What's that poofy looking cloud that's stretching across the sky?" 

"That is the Milky Way Galaxy." Aaron said. "Before the apocalypse, there was too much light pollution for most people to see, but now it's visible every night." 

Her jaw went slack. "So the old world wouldn't let you see a beautiful thing?" 

"Not unless you traveled to the middle of nowhere to see it, but most people didn't have time for that." 

"Did you?" 

Aaron shook his head. "I was too busy working to go out to see the stars." 

"Then this must be the one good reason for the world 'going to shit' as you say." She giggled. 

"There are a few other good things, but yes." 

"Oh yeah, like what?" Asked the Neera while crossing her arms. 

Aaron swore his brain turned to mush, because he couldn't think of another good thing about this decayed world… except for one.

"Well… meeting you was pretty cool." He said sheepishly. 

"Aww, aren't you sweet." The tiny woman teased. 

"Yeah, it's pretty sweet that your first friend is someone as cool as me." Aaron shot back. 

She scoffed. "Oh, you think you're my first friend?" 

"First one who didn't poke you with needles." 

"Fair enough." The Neera laughed again but let the silence of the night take over. Her eyes wandered back up to the sky, drinking in all the stars above. Unknown to her, Aaron was stealing glances of her, for there was not a star that was more beautiful than her.

[captainmortuem]

Day 5 3 of Oc Kiss Week featuring @newvegascowboy's Rune (my beloved) and my very own BG3 OC Tiny. Who is very quickly becoming my absolute baby girl.

If you're interested in getting some writing of your own done, I am accepting commissions as well! I need to update some things fandom-wise and all that jazz, but if you've got an idea feel free to bring it my way and we can work something out.

[crow-caller]

as a child there's nothing cooler than a kid who gets subjected to evil experiments and gains special abilities. it's even cooler if these abilities also cause unfathomable suffering to use/against others. children love stories like this.

[kenchann]

alexa play im not okay by my chemical romance

[pebblethief]

This is Irk, a baby tortle bard off on his first adventure!

He's very excited and optimistic and he inspires people by drawing them little pictures

his plushie is called Gim

[a-little-birdy-told-me]

Fan Kid moment

[sleepyfan-blog]

Beans with Baphomet

Author’s Note: Thank you to @Undeaddream for letting me borrow Tiny and Almach and @plagueparchments for allowing me to borrow Baphomet! This is the next part of the Raised On Terra AU! First. Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @sharenadraculea @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan 

Warnings: swearing around infants, ask me to tag something if it bothers you/I missed something

Summary: Baphomet tries to introduce a New Food to two of her charges.

“Bah! Bah!” Three called out, having managed to grab one side of his bassinet with his hilariously tiny fingers and pull himself upright. One small hand was still gripping the side of his crib, the other was reaching up to her.

Baphomet smiled a little as she took three more steps, closing the distance between where she had been standing and one of her three charges. “Hey little buddy. You hungry? Or just want a cuddle?” This…Babysitting duty was not one she’d ever expected to take on, but all three of her charges were adorable little ones.

His lavender eyes were staring holes into her soul “Bah! Bah!” and waved his hand impatiently.

“I wonder… Are you trying to say up? Or my name, which is Baphomet?” The Custodes coos as she carefully picks him up with one hand, supporting his head and back with one hand. “You’re still tiny, even if you are growing steadily.”

Fifteen’s mind was already lightly tugging on hers, the impatient demand to be held also clearly being sent to her. Fifteen was silently kicking at the side of his bassinet and pouting up at her with mismatched eyes.

“Ah… I see we are practicing our Biomancy skills today, little buddy.” She hummed, shifting her hold on Three so that she could safely pick up fifteen as well, broadcasting the care and fondness she felt for the both of them at each of the infant primarchs in her arms.

Three giggled and clapped his hands, wriggling delightedly as he leaned into her arm.

Fifteen cooed and clumsily sent to him the gnawing hunger he felt in his belly.

Baphomet chuckled, pressing a kiss to Fifteen’s bright red forehead “You got it buddy, snack time. But I need you both to be quiet, because most of your brothers are asleep, including Nine. Who is always hungry when he first wakes up and I don’t have enough arms for the three of you.” She placed Fifteen and Three in two of the baby slings she was carrying, giving them both gentle kisses to the forehead to keep them from fussing.

The Custodian made her way over to where the food for the infant primarchs was placed within their room, opening the cold storage section with one foot. Using her psychic abilities, Baphomet grabbed two bottles of formula - which she set in the warmer to begin heating up - as well as a small container of the blended bean and legume paste, which was both fortified with additional nutrients and calories to try and introduce the pair of infant primarchs to a new food. While all of the little ones were still avid drinkers of the heavily fortified formula they were consuming, six months had passed, and they’d been instructed to begin to slowly introduce other kinds of foods to the little ones.

She warmed up the legume and beans paste as well, making sure to grab a couple of spoons. And their bottles of formula. Baphomet then settled down on one of the very comfortable chairs meant for the caretakers and fed Three and Fifteen with about a third of their bottles of formula before scooping up the bean mixture onto a spoon and murmured “Come on, little one. Time for something new.”

Three stared down at the brownish-green mixture, a decidedly unimpressed frown appearing on his adorable little face and he turned his head away from it. “Meh!” He tried to reach for his bottle “Bah! Baaaah…”

“You’ve got to try it first. Come on, it’s good for you…” Baphomet tried to cajole ,bringing the spoon up to Three’s mouth, gently touching the paste to his lips to get him to lick on instinct.

Three tried to lean away from her, rubbing his lips with a tiny hand and trying to snack the spook away from him “Bah! AH! Ahhhh!”

“Aww, come on, little one. There’s no need to be like that. Heeere comes the thunderhawk! Brrrrrr…. It’s yummy I promise! See, I’ll eat a little.” Baphomet cajoled, taking a tiny taste of the bean and lentil mixture. It didn’t taste like much, but that was deliberately done, so as to not overwhelm tiny palates. “Mmm… Sooo Tasty…See, your brother is eating his spoonful like a good boy.”

Indeed, Fifteen had grabbed at the spoonful of baby food with his hands and was industriously gnawing on it. He’d even gotten some of the food in his mouth, though more of it was smeared across his face. Fifteen squeaked and brought a hand up to his face, rubbing at the bean-mixture on it.

He pulled his hand away and stared at the paste on his fingertips before shoving his hand in his mouth, giggling in delight. 

“See! He likes the bean paste, so come on… One bite, please?” Baphomet coos, bringing Three the spoonful of beans and legumes paste up to his mouth. “Come on you adorable little shit, eat the bean mush. It’s good for you.”

Three pouted up at her before opening his mouth, revealing -

“You’re starting to grow teeth! What about you, buddy?” Baphomet asks, delighted to see that at least one of the infant primarchs she was taking care of had reached this benchmark She looked at Fifteen - who had managed to use his budding psychic powers to drag the glass container of baby food within arm’s reach and was alternating between shoving mouthfuls of the foodstuff in his mouth, and covering his face and hair with it. “Oh… Oh no. I suppose that’s why I shouldn’t try and feed more than one of you at once. You know you’re going to get a bath, right? I can’t leave you covered in beans. Almach and Tiny would both whisper-yell at me about it. You look ridiculous.” 

Baphomet heard more baby giggles and turned back to Three, who had decided that the bean paste was actually yummy. He’d eaten everything off of the offered spoon and was trying to grab the jar of paste.

Fifteen wasn’t having any of that, though and his eyes were glowing with the eldritch light of the warp, trying to keep the jar out of his brother’s grasp “Baah!”

“Oh no. I have fucked up.” Baphomet murmured to herself as she grabbed the floating jar of baby food “Hey now, there’s plenty for each of you. There’s no need to fight over it.”

Three grunted unhappily as he was robbed of his prize, which had been just barely out of his reach.

Fifteen started to sniffle, his eyes huge and wet as he tried to pull the jar of legume paste out of her grasp with his psychic powers.

Baphomet snorted in amusement, lightly tapping him on the forehead “Stop that. You’re nowhere near old enough to win in a battle of wills against me, tiny fucker.” She set down the bean paste and pulled out some cleaning wipes, trying to get some of the pasty-clumps out of his thick mane of hair. “This is going to be such a pain to clean if it dries in your hair. I’m glad that you like the new food, but fuck. It’s like you tried bathing in i-”

Crash!

The sound of glass on carpeted flooring stopped Baphomet from continuing her gentle scolding of the mischievous infant primarch.

She swiftly turned around, to find Three sniffle once, twice before bursting into tears as he tried to cuddle into her. 

“Shit shit shit, what was that?” Baphomet demanded as she looked Three over for any injuries that he might somehow have gotten. She didn’t see any marks, cuts or bruises. Where had the-

Ohhhh… Baphomet looked down, spotting the now broken jar of blended beans and legumes. “… Little one did you try to grab the jar?” She asked, sighing a little. While most baseline infant humans didn’t have the strength nor the coordination to grab jars of that size, the little Primarchs were much stronger and more than one of them had caused this sort of accident before. “I know, the noise was loud and scary, but it’s okay, little one. No harm done. You’re safe. I’m safe, your brother is fine. All of them. Scared the fuck out of me, though.” Shit, she wasn’t supposed to swear around the little primarchs. “... Don’t say naughty words until you’re at least as big as me… Will you ever get as big as me? Hmm…”

She picked up the bean-splattered infant and rocked him close to her chest, giving him the occasional reassuring kiss on the forehead. Baphomet still wasn’t sure why Valdor had picked her of all Custodes to help raise and protect the infant primarchs while they were so tiny and fragile, but… Damn it, she really was trying her best here.

As she had expected, both Tiny - the martian tech priest who somehow had the most experience raising humans during this life stage - and the Blank, Almach had arrived first, having heard the crash.

Almach was first through the door, a worried scowl on his face “What happened?”

“Three and Fifteen are hungry. I was trying to introduce one of the new foods to the two of them and they started to fight over the jar. They dropped it before I could catch it, and it broke upon hitting the floor. No one’s hurt, though both are startled.” Baphomet explained dutifully.

Tiny crawled its’ way out of the vents, scuttling along the wall and over to where the glass and food was, swiftly cleaning it up, beeping and clicking rapidly at her. 

Baphomet rolled her eyes, not knowing exactly what it was saying, though she understood the scolding tone “Yeah yeah. I am trying to be careful! Which is why I only have one of the psychic primarchs out during feeding time, rather than both of them. Mouthy techno-bastard!”

Nine was - for the most part - a fairly agreeable baby. He hardly ever cried or fussed when he wasn’t trapped in a vision-fueled nightmare because of his nascent prescience, but Nine was ferocious when it came to feeding time. He was also one of the four primarchs - five with Three - with at least one tooth growing in. And all two and a half teeth Nine had were very sharp and he got bitey when he was hungry.

It did not matter who he bit, either. Whether the unfortunate soul be a caretaker, one of his brothers, a beloved stuffed toy, or during one memorable (and totally not terrifying memory, thank you very much) occasion, his creator and Lord.

Thankfully, the Emperor of Mankind had merely laughed as he gently pet Nine’s downy-soft fledgling feathers and dark, curly hair, saying “He’s quite fierce. Good he will need that in the many battles to come.” The Emperor had even let Nine gnaw on his hand for several minutes before gently detaching the growling baby from one of his fingers and leaving the room.

That had been a little over a week ago, and Baphomet would never admit to having nightmares about how poorly that encounter could have gone, had He not been in such a good mood. 

“Would you like a hand?” Almach asked, already walking over to where she was sitting, reaching for Fifteen, who was comprehensively covered in beans and legumes. The Blank was surprisingly pushy when it came to the caring of the infant Primarchs, and would take over care of others’ charges if he felt it necessary.

“I’m fine, though - hey! TIny get back here with Three! I can handle my charges, you fucker! They just… Got the better of me. Fifteen’s a psyker, I’m not sure how well he’ll react to you touching him, Pariah.” Baphomet reminded the Blank, holding the bean-covered baby close to her chest as she stood up, trying to chase after the tech priest, who was clicking away at her as he scuttled up the wall and into the vents, again.

Damn it. She knew that Tiny was an excellent caretaker and would be back at some point with a well-cleaned Three. It was just going to be a pain in the ass to try and convince it to let her hold Three for the next few days, the territorial bastard. Tiny had also made off with three’s formula bottle which meant they planned on being Vanished with the baby for Some Time.

“Nine is waking up, would… Wait he’s also a Psyker, isn’t he?” Almach hummed, a sad expression briefly flashing across his face. 

“He sure is. He’s got future sight, Eight too. From what I can tell they only happen when the kiddos are sleeping but that might change as they get older.” Baphomet answered, shrugging a little. Baseline seers were very rare, but she was keenly aware of the fact that the Primarchs had been hand-crafted to be… Many things. Extraordinary and highly gifted were two of those things. “If you’d get the baby bath started, I’d be grateful.”

Almach nodded “I’m always happy to help care for the young ones… Have you heard anything about the Names issue?” 

Tiny skittered down the wall, using an arm to acquire Nine before Baphomet or Almach could do or say anything. The Custodes heaved a sigh as the Blank laughed a little. 

Baphomet shook his head “I’ve asked Valdor about the issue. He’s said that His Majesty is still pondering what to name them, or if he’d allow us to give them childhood names to refer to them until they earn their adult names.”

“... And that doesn’t bother you?” Almach asked, squinting a little up at her.

Baphomet shrugs a little “We Custodes are given names as we earn them. I’m not surprised if that would be the same for Primarchs. Both us and them were hand-crafted by the Emperor Himself for specific purposes. Those purposes are different, but not so different as many of the Golden Host would like to believe. I do have some ideas for names mine have earned already”

“... I suppose that makes sense. I’ve got the bath ready.” Almach answers, a thoughtful if… Sad expression on his face. “What… What names have you come up with?” He looks at her in askance. 

Rude bastard. Time to redirect him. “Five’s about to wake up from the fuss. You should probably help him get back to sleep.” Baphomet informed Almach, sensing the change in alertness in the fussy infant primarch. Five could be very loud when he wanted to be. “For Fifteen… I was thinking of  either  shape-shifter or copy-cat. Three has earned the name Bean-Vanquisher, and Nine is Bitey.”

The Blank nodded and headed off to go soothe one of his charges. He threw over his shoulder “I”m… Not sure those would be good names to use for them…. Ma’am.”

Baphomet carefully bathed a very squirmy Fifteen. He kept trying to grab the bubbles, the soap, and the soft cloth that she was using to get him clean. “Yeah, yeah. Says you. I think they’re great kiddie names. What do you think, copy-cat?”

Fifteen giggled and chased after a bubble, his eyes still shifting slowly between colors. He squeaked when the bubble he caught popped.

“Maybe I should call you bubble-killer instead? Bubble Killer, the fierce psyker-primarch of the Imperium of Man.” Baphomet mused as she carefully washed the bean-paste of of the infant’s hair. She smiled fondly at the little brat, making sure he was fully un-beaned before taking him out of the bath and carefully patting him dry.

Baby skin was very delicate, even a Primarch’s. She’d learned that the hard way. Once Fifteen was dried, she swaddled him in a fresh blanket. “Look at you. All tiny and squishy and adorable. I never understood what cute-aggression was, until I started caring for you little fuckers.” She wanted to bite his chubby cheeks for several maddening seconds. Not that she was going to say that out loud. Almach already didn’t like Apollo very well. No need to go making enemies among the caretaking team.

Fifteen laid his head against her chest, one thumb in his mouth as his eyes slowly closed, a happy sigh leaving him as he settled in for a nap.

Baphomet huffed softly “Oh, I see. Is it naptime, after all the mischief? I suppose. But you can’t sleep on me, squirt. His Majesty has told us not to…” Even though his little mind was radiating sleepiness at her, she could resist if she didn’t hold him long. She walked over to his crib, gently setting him in it once she was sure that he was asleep. 

[bonefydskeleton]

Can I touch your birdy wing?

And fly and hop and everything

Can the sun reach down on us

And through the heavens only we would sing

[x]

[basilone]

hi killy! i’m just now getting around to reading the earth is run by mothers (which is lovely by the way) and was wondering if there’s any fun facts you’d like to share about any of your lovely ocs?

Hellooo! 😊 Thank you so much for your ask & the nice compliment! I couldn't pick and choose between my OCs for this one, so you're getting a little fact for each one! 💙

Dee can tell you stories about family arguments without pausing once all year, and if she argues with you it’s usually a sign that she cares.

Max has developed what she calls a “healthy distrust” of birds throughout the years. (The other girls might call it an outright fear.)

Stella’s deliberately hazy about her home life, but anyone who’s read the Chicago newspapers knows the Lombardi family is involved in some pretty shady business.

One-Eye is the baby back home (youngest of five girls) and also the youngest in the crew, and she looks up to Val and Lottie to the point where she tries to emulate them.

Tiny is actually a little bit stuck-up and has carried her love for drama and gossip over into the crew, which sometimes puts her at odds with the rest of the girls.

Jules is the only one of the girls with a fella back home, and he sometimes jokes that he’s not just getting engaged to her but also to the rest of her crew because Jules never shuts up about them in her long letters home.

Push is really, really scared of ghosts and won’t sleep for a week if you tell her scary stories.

Two hates warmer climates and is beside herself when it turns out they’re going to Africa.

Val unfailingly asks “can I go to the bathroom, sir” when it looks like someone’s gearing up to lecture her, and only Buck has the common sense to tell her “no”.

Nora cannot flirt her way out of anything and is oblivious to being flirted with, so it’s a grand old mystery to the crew when they get hints that Nora’s got a secret boyfriend somewhere on base.

Lottie has an excellent near-photographic memory, which serves her well as a pilot but makes her one of the worst people to pick a fight with.

Darlene loves to draw and her ideal date would be spent wandering around a museum where she can look at all the art on display.

Imogene doesn’t do well under pressure and flunked out of flight school because of it, but that doesn’t stop Bucky from calling her Major Chapman because he’s convinced she’s got the brains to keep pace with any pilot.

Jack met Lucy in the pub when she accidentally spilled her drink on him and he calls that “the kind of love at first sight nonsense that should by rights not happen during wartime”.

Lucy goes down to the hardstand sometimes not to deal with any injuries but to learn more about plane mechanics from Ken and his crew.

Cressida faithfully keeps a journal she writes in every night no matter how exhausted she is. George doesn't believe in lucky talismans or superstitions, but she knows better than to say that out loud.