#i’m so used to people calling me owen to my phone but my birth name when i’m not around

[perfectlywrongformend3s]

Mini Gillespie (part 2)-Charlie Gillespie

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting. This was requested by @gillespie_charlie. This was requested from my other account that I post these too.

-Samantha

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV

Nine months later

I was in the kitchen washing the dishes when I felt a sharp pain near my lower abdomen. I let out a groan of pain, but felt something running down my leg. I looked down to find out that my water broke. I shouted for Charlie to come quickly.

“ Baby, what’s wrong?” he said rushing in

I turned to face him, but still holding on to the counter.

“ It’s time. The baby’s coming!” I said

He looked at me with wide eyes, but ran to grab the things we needed for the journey. I let out another groan in pain.

“ Charlie hurry please!” I shouted

“ I’m coming baby.” he said

I then felt his arms go under my knees and then I was being lifted off the floor. I wrapped one of my arms around the back of his neck to hold on.

“ It’s going to be okay darling.” He reassured me while speed walking to get to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were about five minutes from the hospital when I got another sharp pain. Charlie moved his eyes from the road for a split second before going back to the road. I felt him rub little circles on my leg to calm me down a little.

Charlie’s POV

Right when I parked the car I rushed over to Y/n’s side to help her inside. I was speed walking with her in my arms.

“ Someone! My wifes in labor!” I shouted even though I didn’t need to.

“ Okay, put her down here sir.” a nurse said

Once she was down they started taking her to a room which I followed. When we got to the room I started getting a little anxious.

Your POV

While I was getting hooked up to all the machines I saw Charlie pacing.

“ Baby. come here.” I said

He looked over and carefully walked around to the other side of me.

“ Alright, everything looks super good. You should be able to push soon.” the nurse said

We both smiled and I thanked her. She then pushed a few buttons before leaving the room.

“ Are you excited to meet her?” I asked Charlie

He smiled at me and nodded. “ Yea super excited. Did you ever pick a name?” he asked

“ Yea, want to hear it?” I questioned

I saw his smile grow. “ What is it? Tell me please!”

I let out a giggle due to his excitement. “ Well, I was thinking about Carly Anne Gillespie.”

“ It’s perfect. Your perfect.” he said leaning down to my lips

Before our lips touched I whispered “ Smooth gillespie.”

He let out a chuckle before giving my lips a gentle kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was lying on my side a little due to the epidural they gave me for the pain. I could hear Charlie talking to someone through his phone.

“ Yea, dude. We’re at the hospital right now.”

My guess is either Owen or Jeremy. I saw him looking over at me so I smiled. He gave me one back until going back to talking to the person. There was a knock on the door and when it opened my nurse smiled.

“ It’s time! Are you ready to push?”

I let out a nervous laugh, but nodded my head. She gently touched my shoulder.

“ It’s going to be okay sweetie.” I gave her a small smile

She then went back to setting everything up for the process.

Charlie’s POV

I was talking to Owen and Jeremy on a double facetime call with my headphones in. I was in the middle of a sentence when there was a knock on the door. I saw our nurse walk in super excited. I heard Owen’s voice say something, but didn’t answer. I turned back to the phone and told them.

“ Alright guys it’s time, so I’ll talk to you guys soon.”

They both said good luck before we all hung up. I then put my phone and headphones away to head back to Y/n/n.

“ You ready dad.” Rachel said

I looked up to find our nurse looking at me. I smiled and nodded.

“ I’m pumped.” I told her

She let out a laugh before more people came to help us with the birth of our daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was watching the whole process with Y/n/n’s hand holding mine super tight which I didn’t really mind. If it helps her with the pain I won’t object to her from squeezing so tight. I heard Rachel say…

“ You're almost done sweetie. One more push and you're done.”

I felt her squeeze my hand again then we both heard the cries of our daughter.

“ Congrats you two!” Rachel said

I thanked her while she placed her on top of Y/n/n’s chest.

Your POV

I was physically exhausted, but powered through it for my daughter. Rachel gently placed her on me so that I could hold her.

“ Have you guys picked a name?” She asked

Charlie answered “ Her name is Carly Anne Gillespie.”

Rachel smiled at the name. She then walked away to write everything down. Charlie then asked to hold her which made me smile. He took her carefully out of my arms and walked around with her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about two days or so with Carly and it’s been a blast. I was actually getting her ready to head home today. I was packing up when I felt arms wrap around my waist.

“ Hey princess. How is everything going?” Charlie asked

I smiled and then leaned in for a kiss which I gave him.

The both of us then grabbed our things while I then picked Carly up in her car seat. We headed out of the hospital saying bye to everyone on the way out. When we got to the car I opened the back door and strapped Carly in before heading to my seat.

Charlie’s POV

I looked to my right to find soft snores coming from Y/n/n while in the back were even more little snores coming from. I smiled at my two girls before focusing back on the road.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I parked the car and gently shook Y/n awake, so that we could go inside.

“ Hey sleeping beauty.”

I saw her eye’s flutter open. She gave me a tired smile and helped me take things inside. She then grabbed Carly out of the car. When we got inside the door Koa came running up to us. I bent down to give him some attention.

“ Hey Koa. Do you want to meet someone?”

I turned to Y/n which made her smile. I gently held Koa back so she could set Carly’s car seat down. Koa kept trying to get out of my hold, but I held on strong. Y/n then gave me a nod, so I realised Koa. I heard her say…

“ Koa gentle. This is the new family member.”

I smiled and grabbed my phone to snap a picture of the three of them. I was going to set that up as my lock screen later.

Third Person POV

The Gillepsie household was always filled with goofy and chaotic energy. When Carly Anne came she added so much more chaotic energy. Charlie could already tell that she was going to turn into a mini him. Y/n was offended by Charlie’s thoughts, but was excited for another Charlie in the house. Koa was especially happy to have a little friend to chill with. Everyone from the cast got to meet her from a zoom call since they all were at their home towns.

Charlie’s POV

It was around ten when I heard snores coming from the bedroom, so I walked in to find Y/n/n, Carly and Koa all curled up together. I decided to change and join the sleepover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First I would like to say sorry for all the little jumps I did in the story. Second of all I hope you enjoy and feel free to request more.

If any of you want you can pick your daughter's name I just chose that name because I liked  it, but I don't mind if you want to pick a different one.

Enjoy again!!!

-Samantha

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #Charlie Gillespie #charlie gillespie fic #Charlie Gillespie x y/n #Charlie Gillespie x you #Charlie Gillespie x #charlie gillespie imagine #Charlie Gillespie fluff #fluff #mine #Charlie Gillespie fanfic #koa gillespie

[omnivorousshipper]

Part two of the theif Owen befriended? (Robert I think his name was)

I think you're talking about Derek 😁 and I've been waiting to do another part to his story!

~~~

The TV was on full blast as Owen laid on Deckard's couch and ate through another bag of chips. Deckard and Hattie were off at MI6, doing whatever secret agents do, while Owen was enjoying the apartment to himself

He loved his siblings, but man did he enjoy having control over the TV more sometimes

Reaching for an unopened beer, Owen heard his phone going off

He was very tempted to ignore it, but he knew his mother was back in town and might want to send him on a job

Picking up his phone, Owen frowned

The caller was "Baby Thief"

Shrugging, Owen answered

"Shaw."

"Mr. Owen?" A shaky, young voice whispered on the other side

Owen immediately sat up and turned off the tv

"Derek?" He asked gently. "What's wrong?"

"I-I need your help." Derek stuttered. "I messed up, Owen. Please help me."

Owen felt his heart clench. The kid sounded on the verge of tears

"Where are you?" Owen asked, keeping his voice steady. Standing, he rushed to his room and started throwing clothes on

"On the south side of London."

"Are you in a safe place?" Owen asked. Dressed, he grabbed his keys and slammed the apartment door behind him.

"For the moment." Derek let out a small sob. "Owen, I'm scared. Please, they're looking for me."

"Who is, Der?" Owen pressed. As he rushed down the stairs, Owen started to track Derek's location. He was about thirty miles away, near the docks and in a warehouse if Owen remembered the area well enough

"The guy I stole from." The boy sobbed. "I tried to follow your advice! I really did! But I pickpocketed the wrong guy."

"It's going to be ok, Der." Owen said soothingly. "Is it just the one guy?"

"No." Derek hiccupped. "He brought at least five guys with him. Owen, I'm scared."

"I'll be there soon, Der. Just keep hiding."

Owen finally reached the garage level and saw Deckard's bike, still in prestine condition and ready to go. Grabbing a helmet, Owen hopped on and drove

It took him far less to get to the docks as he took any road he could and broke more than a dozen of traffic laws. He needed to get to Derek; who knew who the kid had pissed off

Looking down at his phone, Owen was able to locate the exact warehouse Derek must be hiding it.

Pulling up, Owen saw three cars parked in front of it, all of them looking extremely expensive

"Damn brat probably stole from a mafia boss." Owen hissed to himself and hopped off the bike. He needed to get in there

As he got closer, he could hear shouting

"Get out here, you little weasel!" A gruff voice yelled

"Give us back what you stole and we won't hurt you too badly!" Another shouted

"If I were him, I wouldn't come out either." Owen announced loudly to the small group of men as he stepped into the warehouse.

All five of them twirled around to glare at him

"Who the fuck are you?" One of them snapped

"Owen Shaw." He drawled in a bored tone. And then smirked when he saw the man who had asked take a step back. He seemed to be the boss of the small group

"Son of Queenie Shaw?" The man asked unbelievably

"One of them, yes."

"What are you doing here?" The leader snapped. "I've paid my dues to Queenie for the month."

"I'm not here about that. My mother can handle her own business. I'm here because a bunch of idiots are trying to hurt a kid under my protection."

"That little shit stole from us!"

"And I don't care." Owen growled and watched with glee as the leader took a step back, fear deep in his eyes. "You'll be reimbursed for it. Now, get the fuck out of here."

"You better keep to your promise, Shaw." The leader tried to stare him down, but Owen simply waved him away

"Whatever."

He watched as they walked out, all of them giving him a wide birth. Once they were gone and Owen heard their cars leave, Owen let his shoulders relax

"How'd you make them leave?"

Owen almost jumped as Derek's voice sounded next to him. Spinning around, Owen saw the kid standing behind him, looking a little worse for wear. His school uniform was covered in dirt and he had a scratch on his cheek

"My mum is a powerful person. People know not to mess with my family."

"So, you're the son of a mafia boss?"

"Not exactly," Owen said slowly. "My mother is in control of much more than a simply mafia."

Derek stared at him with wide eyes that were filled to the brim with curiosity

"I'm under your protection?"

"Now you are." Owen grunted. "I told you to be careful, now you've made huge enemies."

Derek looked down, shame written all over his face

"I tried to be careful! I promise I did! But, he looked like an easy target, I was trying to get home, and I wasn't thinking." He sniffed

Owen sighed and felt sorry for the kid. He remembered pulling the exact same thing when he was even younger than Derek

"Just learn from this, alright?" Owen said

Derek looked back up at him and nodded vigorously

"Good." Owen nodded. "Now, do you need to get home? Do your parents know you were in trouble?"

"No. I called you right away. My parents would disown me if they knew I stole."

Owen rolled his eyes. Of course the kid was a natural rebel. Rubbing his temples, Owen was glad he couldn't have kids.

"Fine. Do you want me to take you home?"

"Um."

"What."

"Can I hang out with you?" Derek asked shyly. "My parents are actually out of town and only the nanny is there. And she doesn't really like me."

Owen's lips thinned

"Hope you're ok with being on a bike then."

"Hell yeah!"

~~~

Opening the door to his apartment, Deckard wasn't surprised to hear the TV blasting some kind of sports game

"Shouldn't have expected anything else." Hattie said behind him

After spending the whole day doing paperwork, both Deckard and Hattie were ready to relax

Stepping inside, Deckard blinked at the sight that met him

Sitting on the couch was, of course, Owen, but next to him was a boy. They were both leaned back into the couch, adamantly talking about the game they were playing

"Come on, you bloody bastard! The ball's right there!" Owen exclaimed

"This is why they should have traded him!" The boy shouted and threw his hands in the air

"Owen?" Deckard called, making both of them to whip their heads around. "What's going on?"

"We're watching the game, what does it look like we're doing?" Owen glared

"And who's this?" Hattie pressed

"Oh." Owen blinked. "Deck, Hatt, this Derek. Der, this is my brother and sister, Deckard and Hattie."

The boy waved at them

"I'm under Owen's protection." He said joyfully

Hattie and Deckard shared concerned glances

What did their brother do now?

~~~

I hope you enjoyed it friend!

#owen shaw #hattie shaw #deckard shaw #hobbs and shaw #oc kids #asks #omni answers #omni writes

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that leads up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Chapter 8: In-Laws

Alya was very stressed. After checking her hair for the fifteenth time and having to actually say out loud that she had nothing to worry about, she raced downstairs to make sure her parents were ready. Owen could arrive at any time.

She almost crashed into her mother, who was wearing one of her best casual dresses (which was actually just a party dress that looked just casual enough to pass off as normal). Her Mum was smart like that.

“You look great, Mum!” She said.

Jemma looked at her with concern in her eyes. “And you look stressed, darling. It’ll be fine.”

Alya almost laughed at that. “Yeah, sure. I’ll decide that once I see what Dad’s wearing.”

On cue, Fitz appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Dad!” She groaned once she noticed that he was still wearing that itchy grey jumper that he never seemed to take off. “You don’t have to wear a full suit, but at least a jacket!”

Fitz glared at her. Her father had always had an aversion to wearing suits, and Alya couldn’t actually remember ever seeing him wear one. Nonetheless, she’d still tried to convince him to wear one to make a good impression.

Jemma winced for some reason that Alya didn’t really understand. “You’re going to have to wear one for the wedding,” she told her husband soothingly, “now would be an ideal time to practice.”

“Nope.” Said Fitz, popping his ‘p’.

Just then, Alya’s phone vibrated in her pocket. “Oh my god, they’re here.” She said, immediately starting to take deep breaths to prevent herself from hyperventilating.

“Well, let’s go!” Jemma announced happily as she linked arms with her husband and began to make their way to the front door.

“Wait!” Alya cried, rushing past them and outstretching her arms on the porch to block their path. “This is my future in-laws you’re about to meet, so please try and be nice.”

Though she looked at both of them, the request was clearly directed at Fitz.

“Don’t worry,” Jemma reassured, stepping forwards to give her daughter a quick hug, “I’m sure Mr and Mrs Shaw are lovely people.”

“Haha, yeah..!” Alya chuckled nervously, slowly lowering her arms. She took a deep breath.

“They’re also wanted in thirteen different countries.”

“WHAT?!”

But Alya had already rushed outside to unlock the gate.

Fitz’s head snapped towards his wife, and Jemma could have sworn his eyes were glowing red.

“That’s it.” He said, storming into the front garden. “I am not letting my daughter marry the son of fugitives.”

Jemma ran out after him, grabbing onto his arm to stop him from murdering Owen in cold blood.

Owen himself had just jogged into their garden and briefly kissed Alya and was keeping one arm around her waist, and was holding the other one in the direction of the gate as if to present something.

A few seconds later, an elderly couple walked through.

All four of the seniors froze. Alya and Owen looked between them awkwardly.

After a long, impromptu silence, it was Mr Shaw that spoke up first in an all-too-familiar voice.

“...You’re kidding.”

“Mum, Dad, this is Arthur and Roberta Shaw.” Said Alya, obviously trying to cut through the air of awkwardness that had surrounded them all.

Fitz spoke next, in a stage-whisper.

“Hunter?”

“Oh my god, it is them.” Muttered ‘Mrs Shaw’.

Jemma broke out into a huge grin. “Bobbi!”

Owen noticeably cleared his throat. “Uhhh, how the hell do you guys know that?”

Hunter scoffed, but his eyes betrayed the fact that he was still extremely shocked. “Owen, you dolt, you didn’t tell us that your girlfriend’s parents were the FitzSimmons!”

“It’s a pretty common name.” Bobbi argued.

Suddenly, Fitz broke out of whatever trance he was in and turned to his wife.

“Owen makes so much sense now!”

A beat. He pointed an accusing finger at the pair.

“WANTED IN THIRTEEN COUNTRIES?!”

~-.-~

Jemma gently placed the warm mug of tea on the table, and Bobbi smiled at her gratefully.

“Thanks. Traveling so much is really starting to take its toll.”

A roar erupted from the living room followed by the sounds of a heated argument.

Jemma’s heart fluttered at the sound. “You know, it’s like they were never apart. I never realised how much Fitz missed his football buddy.”

From the room, Hunter cheered and Fitz groaned. Bobbi stifled a laugh.

“I think that’s their way of bonding. Lance mentions Fitz literally every time he watches soccer without realizing it.”

“Ooh, don’t let him hear you call it soccer, otherwise he’ll come on a warpath.”

The two ladies fell into a comfortable silence at the kitchen table. There was so much to discuss, half a lifetime’s worth, but neither knew exactly where to start.

“That’s a nice ring,” Jemma said eventually, “do you want to elaborate?”

Bobbi snorted. “Yeah, we got married. Not long after Owen, actually. We would’ve risked inviting you guys if we weren’t hiding out on a cruise ship at the time.”

Jemma raised an eyebrow when Bobbi just casually sipped at her tea.

“We bribed the officiator.”

“Of course you did.”

Swiftly, Bobbi put her mug back onto the table with a noisy thunk.

“Right, that’s enough about us,” she said, putting her elbows onto the table to rest her chin on her hands, “tell me about you guys. Your wedding. Alya. Wait- no, I want you to start from the beginning and I want to hear everything. What happened when we left? What’s all the SHIELD gossip?”

“From the beginning?”

Bobbi nodded.

“Well-” Jemma’s fingers curled around her mug- “Coulson died.”

#agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #aos #fitzsimmons #fitzsimmons fam #leo fitz #jemma simmons #alya fitzsimmons #owen shaw #lance hunter #bobbi morse #huntingbird #fanfic #an odd family tree

[brbjustdying]

Owen/Avery - 14/03/2021

You

15:47 - got a favor to ask 

Dancer

15:50 - call me when u want love 

He tapped the phone icon, hoping she would pick up the first time. she liked to let him wait. 

“Hello Order. It’s been a while, I saw the news, how are you dealing with the loss of your nemesis?”

Of course everyone would know about it… 

“Pretty well. It’s about that, the favor.”

“Oh, pretty boy switched sides because of you? Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s your type.”

“It’s absolutely not what happened, stop. Can you handle his file? And I’ll forget about the waterfall incident. No more debt. Just this one favor.”

“Sounds like I’m getting more than I’m giving. Why do you care?”

“Because there’s a lot of good in it for me. It’s always nice when someone switches sides and you get all their knowledge don’t you think?”

“I see. Give me some time for the pictures, and see for any name change, or family names or whatever. Have it by 3 AM, I’ll be done with the pictures by then. But I won’t make any kind of ID or anything, I sold all my equipment a few months ago.”

“No worries, I’ll talk to Demeter about it.”

He heard the woman laugh on the other end of the line. 

“They’re out of business, you should know it.”

“Favors don’t disappear when you go out of business, you should know that. I’ll text you the details, bye.”

“Bye Order, don’t get used by Adam, he might be nice but you never know if it’s a ruse.” 

He hung up, not wanting to hear more. 

He wasn’t stupid, but he also knew he wasn’t important enough to be used in such a scheme. 

His ties with the villain world weren’t the strongest, and he had very little influence there. He was mostly known for getting in the way, but always having people owe him for some reason. That’s what he got for being gifted with such a strong power he guessed. 

*

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping you know.”

“Stop it, I like cooking. Besides, I have something else for you to do.”

“Oh?”

He laid down the paper he’d printed at work.

“This is your current identity. Everything I could find in your public record. Now, I’ve asked a friend to help me change it. It’s something we do pretty often when someone switches sides, to protect them. This friend is going to change every record of you, altering your picture so it’s different but similar. People won’t notice the difference, but if they see the real you they will just think you look similar. It helps a whole lot trust me. If there’s anything you want to change, you can just cross it out and rewrite it. I got some colorful pens somewhere… Dancer hates purple so use it as much as you want.”

“Dancer?”

“My friend. She’s currently doing the pictures.”

Adam grabbed the pen, looking unsure at the idea. 

“Is it really necessary?”

“You’ve been declared a criminal by the administration, and with a really high bounty. everyone will be trying to get you as soon as you step a foot outside.”

“Oh.”

Owen internally sighed. This was all new for the guy. Of course it would feel weird. 

“What am I supposed to change? What’s the things that matter the most basically.”

Well, that was a quick change of attitude. Weird. 

“Usually, place of birth, names of closest family, but also some people in the extended family. They didn’t have a file on your family so don’t worry about it, it’s not public knowledge. Things like height, weight, but just slightly. We can’t do anything about the power obviously, but you’re only supposed to use it when having a mask on so it’s usually not a problem. Most people also change their names and find an alias.”

That was the biggest one. People didn’t like changing their names, but he heard it happened very often in the academy, or even when they started as heroes. since they didn’t have aliases, they tried to have names that meant something relating to their powers or their values. Though it seemed to be marketing more than anything, it worked great and people loved to theorize around destiny and if giving your child a specific name could improve their chances at becoming a great hero one day. The number of articles made about the subject was astounding. 

“You think I should change my name?”

He shrugged.

“It’s your choice. It’s very common, but it’s super personal so most people don’t want to do it. It means too much to them. You have a fairly common name, so you might be fine keeping it.”

“No I think I’d like to change it.”

“Okay, need ideas?”

He nodded. 

Owen went to his office, giving Panda a scratch on the head on the way, and retrieved three books from the top shelf. They were super dusty. 

When he came back, he dropped them on the table, smiling at the puff of dust that rose from them, and the disgusted expression on Adam’s face. 

“Looks like the bible. Let’s see. Girls name, alphabetical order. Boy’s name, alphabetical order, Gender neutral names, alphabetical. Gender neutral?”

“Names you can give to a boy or a girl, usually a lot of non binary people like those more than heavily gendered names. It’s been changing in recent years, but it’s still difficult to be accepted if your name is closely tied to a specific gender so people often choose to change it. Have a look while I make dinner.”

He wanted to make something really nice, because he still hadn’t slept in ages, and he needed to have at least that. Then he’d have to get some sleep, because he’d had way too much coffee. Maybe one day he’d even manage to get a schedule for his sleep. Right now it couldn’t be called a schedule, it was all over the place, there was no pattern. And it made work even more intolerable. 

As he was slicing a cucumber, Adam spoke again. 

“I think I found one I like.”

“Hmm.”

“Avery. I really like it, or Wren. But I’m not sure, what do you think.”

“It’s your choice, you’ll be the one wearing it every day. Avery is closer to Adam so it might be easier to get used to but honestly I’m not sure.”

Chosen from the gender neutral book. Interesting. 

“You think it needs to be close to the previous name?”

“Not really. I almost changed mine to Clarence so…”

“You did? Why? And why not really. If you don’t mind telling me.”

“Don’t worry. I really wanted to be called chaos, and the convention is to choose an alias with the same first letter as your name. It was really stupid though.”

“Chaos would fit you. What made you decide against it?”

“Uuuuh…”

“It’s fine.”

The truth was… A little shameful. 

His mom found out about it, and told him that she’s almost named him Clyde, after the famous Bonnie and Clyde story. She also said Chaos was super corny, and didn’t suit him at all. “You’re an orderly boy Owen, and you should know yourself better. What you want is justice and peace, not chaos and destruction.”

“It’s because of my mom. God I still can’t believe you met her! I texted her and she only answered with an emoji, and now she won’t answer my calls.”

“She was really nice, don’t worry she didn’t tell anything weird about you or whatever.”

He grumbled and turned back to his cucumber. The betrayal of it all! No one was supposed to know where he lived or anything. But he’d rather have Adam know about where he lived than where his mom lived. Not that it really mattered now. 

“Anything else you changed on the paperwork?”

“Made hero me a little taller, not sure how believable it is but I’m pretty small so… Also changed the date of birth by two days, and the place of birth to a city with a really similar name i found online. Do you think it’s enough?”

“Sure. Do you have allergies?”

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Just to be sure I don’t accidentally kill you, it would suck.” 

Adam snickered. 

“So, settled on a name?”

“I think I’m going to go with Avery. I really like the sound of it.” 

Owen wished they had more time to think about this, he really did. It was a big thing, hopefully he wouldn’t change his mind in a few days or weeks. 

“Alright, take pictures of the picture and send them to me, I’ll transfer them to Di- Dancer.”

Almost spilled the real name of one of his friends, great. He was getting a little too comfortable around the ex-hero.

His phone chimed, and he knew it was already done. He dressed the plate and put them on the table, Avery having moved the books out of the way to the coffee table. 

“Can you take them back to my office? Last door, I think it’s open. Panda is probably sitting on the chair but you can move him if you want.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

“I mean you’re probably going to stay here for a while so might as well get used to the place. Go, or I’ll eat your food!” 

He dashed to the office, talking to Panda once he was there, and Owen smilled. 

I really need to sleep. I can’t just be his friend so easily. God what even is happening.

Dinner went really well. They talked about a whole bunch of different things, but Owen couldn’t help but notice that Avery always avoided the subject of his family. He loved to tease Owen about his mom, but didn’t offer any information about his potential family. It could be from a desire to protect them, but seeing as the administration didn’t have any file on them, and they’d never been quoted in interviews, not even mentioned as refusing to comment for articles, he had another idea. 

“Why did you call yourself order then?”

Owen looked up from his phone, trying to forget the text from Dancer that said “got the papers. fuck u for the purple, also avery is a really nice name for a really cute boy, give him my number” 

“What?”

“Why order, why not something else, like… Offense? Omen? Omelet?”

“Oh I’d be a terrifying villain if I was named omelet, for sure. Told you, my mom.”

Panda walked into the room like he owned it, which he pretty much did, distracting Avery from the discussion. 

The boy crouched down, smiling brightly when the cat purred and asked for more pets, meowing softly from time to time. 

Damn friendly cat, already forgot me and everything I do for him.

“Well, looks like you just found your first kid. Good luck being a parent, he’s a brat.”

“How dare you! Panda has been nothing but an adorable gentleman since I met him.”

“Hmm, wait for the day where you need to take him to the vet because he knocked down an entire shelf and looks like he broke his bones but really he’s just being dramatic and messing with you.”

“Not cool Panda, not cool.”

Panda only looked smug, as usual, probably not seeing the problem in doing anything for attention. 

Owen flopped on the couch, wanting nothing more than for his brain to just shut off, sleep for about a week, and not have a single thought. That never happened of course, but maybe today would be the day.

“So, what’s your villain name going to be?”

“You think I need one?”

“Unless you plan to sit on your ass while I use all the info you gave me do to something, yeah you need one.”

“True.” 

He took Panda in his arms, and came to sit next to Owen.

Too close.

“Got any ideas? I don’t know how I can choose something like that… At the academy we could put suggestions, but I didn’t think they’d call me that.”

“Adam’s not your original name?”

“Nah. Don’t remember what it was though. I’ve been there for a long time.” 

Weird. 

“Okay. Strange.”

“They have this dude that can replace memories. He usually only uses his powers to change minimal memories from students, the name is one of them. He hates doing it, but if he’s not on the side of the administration I guess they’d hunt him down because it’s such a dangerous power.”

Huh.

“Probably yeah. Are you curious to know what the name before Adam was?”

“Kind of? I guess yeah. It might be able to tell me something about myself. Don’t know how I’d ever get that information.”

“Good thing that’s what I do then! Hang on, I’ll get my laptop so we can find you a cool villain name.”

He let Avery cuddle Panda to death, and quickly sent another text to Dancer, asking her to dig up anything she could about that. 

Dancer

20:44 - this is really big Order, real big 

20:45 - fuck imagine what they can do about it 

20:46 - I’m getting Neon on it with me 

He wouldn’t mention it to Avery unless they came up with something interesting. He didn’t need more things to worry about. He’d already offered to cover half of the rent despite staying only a day, and a bunch of unnecessary things. Where did he get his awesome morals? 

“So! Most people have an idea because you don’t just decide to become a villain like that. But sometimes it happens, in that case you go online, and look up lists of words until you find one you resonate with. Here, have a loot. You can choose any letter, but I really recommend something that starts with an a.”

“Alright, let’s see.” 

Panda moved to Owen, disappointed that he wasn’t the center of attention anymore. Sadly it wouldn’t be much better from his owner, who fell asleep without even knowing, only to wake up a few hours later, gently being shaken by his new friend. 

“Hey Owen. It’s really late, I think you should go to sleep in your bed.”

He grumbled his answer, not sure himself what he intended to say. For once he’d actually fallen asleep, curse him for waking him up. He was comfortable too, something warm next to him. 

He abruptly stood up when he realized that he’d been sleeping laying on Ad-Avery. Oh no. Oh my god no what an idiot.

The guy smiled softly, and then grabbed his hand to lead him to his room, thinking his foggy mind probably prevented him from finding his way. 

Panda only moved a little, not wanting to leave the warm blanket that had ended up on both of them at some point. 

When the warm hand that was holding his let go, pushing him gently towards his bed, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep any more that night. 

*

Owen was waiting for his coffee to brew, in a bigger french press than the previous day. He’d done his bets to be silent, but Avery still heard him. 

He looked like death. Weird, considering he’d been sleeping so well the previous evening. Did he not go back to sleep after he went to his room? He didn’t make any noise, so Avery assumed he’d fallen asleep again. Did he have insomnia problems? Maybe he shouldn’t have woken him up… 

He shook his head and closed the bathroom door, intending to take a short shower and then plan his next move. 

It had been a weird few days. 

When he stumbled here the other night, broken and lost, he didn’t expect Order to help him. Of all people, he probably should hate him the most, they had fought so much and he always got in his way. 

But instead he was faced with an almost stranger. someone kind, calm, thoughtful and resourceful. Who had a pretty good fashion sense too! 

He glanced at the simple cream shirt and grey sweatpants and underwear the other hand lent him, refusing his protests. He’d been so nice, Avery felt bad. What had he done that was so great to deserve such kindness? Because it seemed like his whole life had only been a lie. 

Trained by the academy since he was a kid, through summer camps, special classes, coaches, everything, he’d grown up to become a powerful hero, with a lot of potential, or so everyone said. But it never really felt right. Then he moved on to the actual academy, taking as many classes as he could, always doing his best. It was a good education, and he needed as much of it as possible if he wanted to be a good hero, who did the right thing. 

His dedication and drive started to become annoying traits of his, rather than what teachers and coaches praised. Hewanted to know too much, he realized now. It wasn’t like he ever suspected there was something so bad hiding behind. 

And now, they had destroyed everything in just one night. Everyone thought he was an insane person who just wanted to believe in the conspiracy, and bring people down. The public opinion had swayed very easily, a couple false articles being enough to change people’s mind. 

He couldn’t even be angry at them, he’d fallen for it too, when he’d seen other heroes switch sides and read about their reasons in the pres. he never questioned it. The press had always been fairly nice to him, he didn’t have many enemies in the journalists. 

It was probably because the administration controlled them too. 

He wiped his tears and rinsed his hair one last time, before turning off the water. 

He had to at least pretend it was fine. Owen was nice enough to let him stay around even if he had no reason to, and he couldn’t be any kind of a burden. He was glad Panda was around, he was great at comfort. Even if he did bite his fingers a couple times. He wouldn’t tell that to Owen, it would make him right. 

He got dressed and messed with his hair for a while, before giving up. It was a mess like it always was no point in trying now. Sometimes he really hated whoever gave him genes for such fluffy hair. It was impossible to handle. One of his friend had theorized it was because he was of east asian descent, and that he had to try different ways of taking care of it to find what was the best. But he hadn’t, because it felt too much like something his actual parent should have taught him, not something to look up online. and that made him really sad, for some reason. 

“Whatever, let’s find Panda and get a hug,” he whispered to himself. 

He had hoped the cat would be on the couch, here he’d last seen him, licking his butt after having his breakfast, but he wasn’t there anymore. 

Owen was sitting at the kitchen island, writing furiously on his laptop, and barely sparred him a glance. 

For some reason, Avery suddenly felt really heavy, an intense sadness filling him, and he wondered when this would end. It was probably just a bad time, things would get better after a while, but he could sense that something else was about to fall on him and destroy everything again, and he didn’t look forward to that. 

Why does it never stop?

“Hey.” 

Owen was standing in front of him, concern on his face, definitely awake despite his lack of sleep. 

Avery didn’t say anything. He knew if he tried, he would start crying again, and he couldn’t have that. Not now. Not in front of him. It wasn’t - 

Owen slowly wrapped his arms around him, giving him plenty of time to move or push him away. But he didn’t. It felt nice. He hugged him back, enjoying the warmth of his friend. He’d always been taller, something Avery hated when they had to fight a little too close, but right now it was really nice. He was whispering reassurances to him, telling him it would be alright, they’d find solutions and it wouldn’t always suck this much. 

It felt really nice, and he hoped it would last forever. For once, his thoughts had stopped racing. 

*

He had barely slept, and kept turning and tossing in his bed, wondering if he had fallen asleep so easily because he was so tired, or if it was because of the person next to him. 

He already knew the answer, but didn’t want to think about it, much less go ask the other for a hug so he could sleep again. 

God he really needed to talk to a new doctor about this. One who wouldn’t ask too many questions about what could possibly be stressing him out, or preventing him from going to bed at reasonable hours. 

When a reasonable time came, he got up and made the biggest pot of coffee he could find. He thought he had a bigger pot, but couldn’t remember where it was, and didn’t want to make even more noise than he had. Avery had woken up anyway, so it wasn’t like it mattered. But he didn’t have the mental energy to dedicate to it all. So he just made his coffee, giving his guest some clothes and squashing his complaints. If he didn’t want him to stay around, he was very capable of kicking him out, regular person way or villain way. He’d like to keep his apartment clean and Panda calm though. 

The first cup of coffee felt like drinking that water that was supposed to give eternal youth, the name of which he couldn’t remember or bother to look up. The second one was more for pleasure than out of necessity. 

He’d gotten a text from his boss, saying the shop had been damaged in a fight last night, and he didn’t need to come in for work for at least two weeks. The administration would cover the wages of the employees as well as the cost of repairs. 

A blessing truly, he just had to fill in a form with his information, as well as a formal declaration that he wasn’t present when the incident happened. 

Easy peasy. 

But then Avery walked out of the bathroom, eyes still red from crying, and looking really sad. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he didn’t mention it, but from the way his face fell, it was clearly not the right thing to do. 

He looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulder. And maybe it was a little bit after all. His whole world had come crashing down just two days ago. 

“Hey.” 

He tried to keep his voice soft, and not cold as it apparently always was. According to his friends at least. 

Avery looked like he needed a hug, so without overthinking it, Owen did just that. He gave him time to push back of course, he didn’t have to accept, but he did. He even clung to him like he was the last person on earth, relaxing visibly, and even smiling a little against his neck. 

Oh this was bad, really bad. Owen would never be able to squash his feelings now, they’d refuse to go away, reminding him of this moment. 

They stayed like this for a long time, Owen doing his best to make Avery feel better, giving him empty promises of making things better and finding solutions. It seemed to work, because he stopped breathing so fast and being so tense. 

It was going well until Panda decided he wanted some of that attention for himself too, and literally jumped from the counter onto Avery’s shoulder, making him gasp in surprise. 

“Is that…?”

“Yep. That’s Panda, jealous that he’s no longer the center of attention, despite being the king of this house. Come on Panda, that’s just rude now. Do you even have an ounce of manners in that fluffy body of yours?” 

The cat meowed, making Avery laugh. 

“I don’t think Panda has a lot of respect for you.”

He shifted a little, but didn’t seem ready to let go yet, so Owen just rubbed little circles on his back, considering his answer carefully. 

“Panda don’t take it personally okay? You’re right, he has no manners. Honestly he’s super friendly, but also really bratty ? I don’t know where he got that. I tried to educate him but…”

“Aw, be nice to him. He’s sweet. He let me pet him so much! I really like him. I always wanted to have a pet but couldn’t. It’s so nice.” 

He finally let go, quickly wiping his eyes, and then grabbing Panda from his shoulder, and carrying him like a baby instead. 

“I’m going to be off of work for at least two weeks, so I will be around to see how much of a betrayal Panda is, and just how much cuddling he can accept from other people.”

“He doesn’t accept it from you?”

“Oh he does, but I think he found a new favorite person.”

Avery blushed, and OWen couldn’t help but notice just how cute that was. 

Before they got the chance to say anything else, the landline started ringing. 

The only person who called on this line was his mom. So she was done with ignoring him. 

“Ah, the traitor finally stops ignoring me!”

“The traitor?”

He grabbed the phone, ready to give his mom a piece of his mind. 

“Hi baby! Am I bothering you? I saw the place where you work got blown up, it was night and no hospital texted me, so I guess you’re doing fine.”

“Hi mom, or should I call you traitor?”

“Oh Owen that’s a bit strong, makes me reconsider my offer too, such an ungrateful son!” 

Her voice contained no heat, only amusement. Clearly she didn’t care what he thought. He only raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.

“You’re going to be off work right?  I’m going to your uncle’s house, if you want to come with me and take some holidays!” 

Oh. So that was what it was about. 

“Can I bring someone?” 

On the other end of the line, he heard his mother choke on her drink, cough it out for a solid minute before talking again. It made him smile. He was full of surprises. 

“Yes, of course. do I know that person?”

“Yeah, it’s what I’ve been trying to call you about for two days now.”

“Oh, that nice boy I met once. Really sweet and polite, Adam I think? The press isn't kind to him lately.”

“His name is Avery now. I’ll take the ferry as usual. Get ready for Panda, he misses you.”

“Wonderful, I look forward to seeing you boys. Oh this promises to be interesting, you have to give me details alright? I know I’m your mom, but I wanna know.”

“Nope, definitely not. Bye mom, see you tomorrow, love you.” 

She chuckled but said her goodbyes. 

Why didn’t I tell her it’s not like that. Oh god she probably thinks we’re dating. Oh no she’s going to make this so awkward. I’m such an idiot.

He stopped his internal panic when he noticed Avery looking at him curiously. 

“Wanna spend a week at a beach house?”

*

I will write them more, just maybe not tomorow (I’ve been procrastinating my homework a whole lot)

#writing #my writing #writing practice #superpowers #hero turned villain

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Winging It - John 15:15

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T  

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: A good chunk of what happened in this chapter was not planned. I am really bad at planning.

***

“All right, let’s see - three options, no?”

“Yes. Owen Brown, Lawrence Brown, and Rusty Brown. According to the information--”

“It’s Rusty,” Crowley spoke up, causing both Gabriel and Aziraphale to fall quiet and turn to look at him. Gabriel was utterly confused; Azirapale just raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain that knowledge. The demon shrugged.

“I refuse to believe any parent whose surname is Brown would willingly choose to pick Rusty as their child’s name, unless there was a demonic intervention. It’s a bully magnet. Must have picked it himself when older. The man’s got a sense of humor.”

A chuckle. “We raised a child whose mother named him Warlock,” Aziraphale reminded him, causing Gabriel to blink. 

“You did-- what?” he asked. To his knowledge there were a lot of things an angel and a demon were not supposed to do together - they were supposed to do nothing together, really, except trying to thwart each other at every turn - and Gabriel suspected that ‘raising a child’ came rather close to the top of that list. Maybe slightly below ‘stopping the Apocalypse’.

Crowley ignored him, rolling his eyes. “You know the Satanic nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl must have had something to do with it.” “The who and the what now?” Gabriel tried again. This time, it was Aziraphale to ignore him.

“That is… fair. But we cannot rule out the possibility his parents did pick the name, and that therefore he is not our man. May I remind you we once knew a lady called Farting Clack?”

Crowley chuckled. “Ah, Victorians. That was a fun time. Except when we argued because you wouldn’t give me holy water.”

“I did eventually, give it a rest.”

“You did what!” Gabriel exclaimed, outraged. Only to be, again, ignored. 

“Took you a good while, is what I’m saying.”

“Well, excuse me for worrying you might accidentally--” Aziraphale trailed off like something had struck him, and Crowley flinched. They both turned to Gabriel at the exact same time; Aziraphale’s eyes were wide, Crowley’s were hidden behind glasses. 

And Gabriel was very, very confused.

“... What?” he asked. The demon’s expression stayed unreadable, but Aziraphale’s anxious one melted in a smile. A very nervous smile. What in the--

“So, three options,” Aziraphale exclaimed, clapping his hands together with exaggerated glee. “Best to start looking into them, no?”

“Er… yes, I suppose. I do need to figure out where they live, at least. Then I suppose I can go by exclusion, visiting each of them.”

Crowley nodded. “Well, good thing we have an expert in tracking people down right here,” he said, and turned to Aziraphale. Gabriel followed suit, only for Aziraphale to blink at both of them like a particularly confused owl. 

It… didn’t give Gabriel much confidence over his supposed expertise in tracking down people. 

“I am-- no expert in tracking down people.”

Crowley’s turn to look confused. “You tracked down the Antichrist.”

“I had a book full of prophecies to give me pointers. I suspect that counts as cheating.”

“Or as an intelligent use of available resources,” Gabriel suggested. Aziraphale chuckled.

“That does sound better.”

“Ah. Right. We sure could use something like that now,” the demon muttered, and pulled out a phone from the… frankly ridiculously tiny pockets of his trousers, where no phone would fit unless there was a literal miracle at play. “... But at least we have the names and birthday, so there’s that. All right, first one, Owen Brown…”

***

“You’re shitting me.”

“Mr. Brown, I can assure you angels do not do that, either.” Uriel’s voice was calm, but her hands did grip the clipboard a little harder. She had hardly ever visited the lower spheres of Heaven where mortal souls resided before that ordeal, and now she was beginning to see why. “Please, do try to control your language.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Daniel Brown waved his hand, leaning back on his seat. “Not in front of a lady. Got it.”

“... I am an angel, Mr. Brown,” Uriel pointed out flatly just as the man’s wife, sitting by him, raised an eyebrow. 

“Since when do you try not to curse in front of ladies? Because I can’t recall you holding back much in the twenty-something years we have been married.”

“You’re not a lady, you’re the wife. You knew the cussing was part of the package by the time we got to the altar, shouldn’t have married down,” Daniel Brown pointed out, and smiled. “Still not a clue why you gave me a chance when we met.”

She smiled back. “One too many drinks.”

“Ah, a drunken mistake, then.”

“The second best  mistake of my life.”

“... Wait, what’s the first--”

Uriel held back a sigh. “Yes. Well. Regardless, what I have told you is true. You do have a brother as opposed to a sister as you believed.”

Daniel Brown rubbed his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“I repeat, there is no need to involve him,” Uriel droned. Mortals were a lot more difficult to deal with than she remembered, but then again last time she had directly dealt with any had been a few millennia earlier, when the trend was showing up with several pairs of wings, a few heads, wheels of fire and a handful of eyes here and there. They would occasionally die of fright but for the most part, once the screaming had ceased, they were cowed enough to politely listen.

And never did accuse them of, quote, shitting them.

“Right, I-- sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I just-- it’s a lot. First I die, it’s kind of, I mean, new. Then I met my wife again - wonderful, don’t get me wrong, but I thought I had lost her for-- well, it is a lot.” He cleared his throat again; Liv Brown reached to take his hand and squeezed it. He held it back. “Then, turns out the slightly weird but not-bad-at-all guy who helped me land a job and befriended me was the literal Archangel fuck-- the Archangel Gabriel in exile. And now you’re telling me that Alison is not… Alison anymore, and that I wasted over a decade searching for her-- him-- on wrong information.”

Well. Perhaps it was, indeed, a lot to deal with for any human mind. Uriel made an effort to smile. “Gabriel is currently working on locating him so he can give him news of your passing. If there is anything more specific you wish him to know, within reason--”

“Within reason?”

“Except letting him know you’re sending this message from beyond death. That, I am afraid, is forbidden by current guidelines.” Uriel took a blank piece of paper she had on her clipboard and placed it on the table, along with a pen. “It will be given to Gabriel, and he’ll relay your message once your brother is found. It’s what he does best, after all.”

“... Heh. From announcing the birth of Christ to telling my brother I’m sorry I was a dick. Bit of a downgrade, but life is shi-- crap, anyway.” Daniel Brown chuckled and took the pen, but didn’t start writing yet. He looked at her questioningly. “… Why was he cast out? What happened?”

He’d asked before, and Uriel had told him it was none of his business, if not precisely using those exact words. When that had happened, her memories of Gabriel were few and in-between, and she was no longer sure the events had been precisely as they’d remembered and recorded for future reference. 

Now that those memories were back - only of Gabriel, none of them had dared bring up the possibility of trying to remember other angels who were no more - she could tell him the details, if so she wished.

She did not, in fact, wish to. But it was not for her to decide.

“... I will ask Gabriel whether he wishes us to share that information with you,” she finally said. Daniel Brown seemed to realize it was the most he could hope for and he just nodded before he looked down, swallowed, put the pen to the paper, and began writing.

***

“He’s writing back!”

“Is he?”

“Yes. That’s what the dots mean. He’s typing.”

“This was… surprisingly easy.”

“Oh, I know. Whatever demon worked on Zuckerberg got a promotion, I heard. Got to admit, that Cambridge Analytica affair was a stroke of genius.”

“Ah, so that was Hell’s doing.”

“I’m amazed you doubted that for even a moment.”

Gabriel supposed he might have guessed what Aziraphale and his demon were talking about if he focused, but he did not: all he could do was stare at the screen of Crowley’s phone, at those dots as the man at the other end - Rusty Brown, a man with rather debatable taste in t-shirts who, according to his profile, had indeed been born in Plymouth seventy years earlier but did not resemble Daniel in the slightest - wrote his response. 

Maybe it is him, he thought. It would be a stroke of luck for Daniel’s brother to turn out to be the only man they’d been able to find and approach through social media; an easy way to deliver a message if there ever was one. That would be good. Too good, given Gabriel’s recent luck. 

And, within moments, a message came to confirm as much.

“I’m afraid you got the wrong man, I have two sisters and no brothers,” Rusty Brown had written. “Sorry - best of luck with your search.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Ah, I supposed that would have been too easy.”

“No such thing as something too easy. I like it when things are easy.” Crowley frowned at his phone. “And here I thought he was the most likely candidate. Let me see…” he mumbled, and began typing. Gabriel craned his neck to see the screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking if his sisters are among his friends.”

“... Why?”

“If their parents went and named him Rusty, I’m curious to see-- ah, Scarlet and Sandy Brown. Not sure I want to imagine what grade school was like for them,” he muttered, and blocked the screen. “Well. One’s out, two left.”

“And we did find one Owen Brown on the electoral register whose age fits,” Aziraphale added glancing at Gabriel. “If only we could figure out the place of birth, we’d know if he’s the Owen Brown on our list. But it’d be quicker to go speak to him, he lives in Luton. No phone number - probably no landline.”

Gabriel, who had only a very vague idea of where Luton was, nodded. “I’ll go find him, then. I took the rest of the week off specifically for this,” he added. What he was doing for Daniel was of paramount importance, of course, but he was also needed at work and disappearing with no warning would have been extremely unprofessional.

Aziraphale waved a hand. “It won’t take long. Crowley and I can take you--”

“Absolutely not," Crowley declared, cutting him off. Aziraphale turned to glance at him. Crowley crossed his arms and tilted up his chin, clearly ready to stand by what he’d said.

A sigh. “Crowley, it wouldn’t take more than--”

"We're not going with him. We'll put him on the first train, give him a map, and good luck to him."

"Now, dear. Luton is not that far, it would take less than a hour with the Bentley and you wouldn't even need to take the M25--"

"It’s not the M25 that’s the problem,” Crowley replied. “After driving down it while on fire, I don’t think it’s going to ever feel like a problem on a normal day again. Luton is the problem.”

"... Something in particular about it that I don't know about?"

"Last time I was there, I got stabbed."

"Oh. That does sound bothersome,” Aziraphale conceded. “What did you do to--"

"I walked in a pub."

“And then?”

“Nothing. I walked in a pub and got stabbed by someone who decided he didn’t like the way I was looking at him.”

“Were you not wearing sunglasses?”

“Of course I was.”

“Then how would he know--”

“He didn’t. He just was in a stabby mood.”

“Charming,” Aziraphale muttered.

“Luton,” Crowley huffed. 

“Well, it was probably quite a while ago--”

“The Nineties were not that long ago.”

“I… can go on my own,” Gabriel dared intervene, trying not to sound overly worried by what he was hearing. “I’ve taken trains to come here, after all. It wasn’t difficult.”

Aziraphale seemed a little concerned regardless, but in the end he relented, and Crowley did drive him to the station the next morning, to catch a train for Luton. With that, the address and money for a cab, Gabriel was rather sure he was at no risk of getting lost. 

And he’d make sure not to step in any pub, just in case.

***

“... Not the bloke you’re looking for, no. Sorry, mate.”

“Ah-- well, I suppose it was worth a try. I’ll be on my way. My apologies for the intrusion.”

“No, wait - I was about to go have a pint with some mates, come with us. It’s on me.”

“Really, I cannot accept--”

“You can, young man. Won’t let you go your way looking like someone kicked you. A pint or two always makes it better - just a quiet night out with the lads.”

“Well…” Gabriel hesitated a moment, then relented. A pint or two was nothing he couldn’t take - he’d had nights out like that in Southampton, first with Daniel and then with other colleagues. And besides, the man was in his late sixties; surely, things wouldn’t get too out of hand. In the end, he smiled and nodded. “... Only if you let me pay the second round,” he said.

He did pay the second round. Owen Brown paid the third. A friend of his paid the fourth; Gabriel insisted to pay the fifth. 

Afterwards, he wouldn’t be entirely sure any of them was paying at all.

***

Ever since regaining his memories of Gabriel - and before then, really - Sandalphon had wondered what meeting him face to face again would be like. Last he’d seen him, Gabriel had been terrified of him, hiding behind Beelzebub of all beings; it was not a pleasant thought.

He could speak with Michael without fear now, at least, and Sandalphon hoped it was only a matter of time before he would willingly summon him, too, so that they could talk. Clear up, if possible, even if it would be a difficult conversation. 

What he had not expected was for Gabriel to summon him by drunkenly shouting his name in the back of a pub in Luton, England, before the eyes of a group of drunken humans who cheered at his appearance like it was a magic trick while someone from inside yelled about not firing fireworks close to buildings. 

And Gabriel looked… almost more dishevelled than he’d been when he had been cast out of Heaven, except that now he had No blood on him and a smile on his face almost too wide to be physically possible. 

“San-dal-phon,” Gabriel had slurred, throwing an arm around his shoulders before he could say a word and turning to the humans. “This is my friend, guys!”

“I, uh…” Sandalphon had blinked as the humans raised their glasses and cheered. He chose to give a polite smile. “Greetings,” he said. Some responded to his greeting, some just drank, someone put a glass in his hand, and he stared at it for a few moments before realising they expected him to drink. 

“Good,” Gabriel was muttering, arm still around his shoulders. Strange as his behavior was, it was… nice to see he was not afraid of him. “Good stuff. Try.”

Ah well, Sandalphon thought, may as well do as he asked. It wasn’t like a glass of whatever concoction the humans had offered him could hurt an angel, anyway.

***

“Uuuugh.”

“Owww.”

“Head hurts.”

“Where are we?”

“... Earth?”

“This isn’t Heaven for sure.” Gabriel sat up, fighting back a wave of nausea, and blinked blearily to put his surroundings into focus. They were in… someone’s back garden, it seemed, on what looked like a semi-inflated camping mattress. “Probably still Luton,” he muttered, rubbing his face, and turned. Whose house was that? He’d only seen Owen Brown’s home from the front, so it was hard to tell. God, they must have been blind drunk to crash like that. The sun was just rising, and he barely remembered a handful of moments from the night before.

Behind him, Sandalphon was struggling to sit up as well, his suit all wrinkled; Gabriel suspected his own suit looked about as much of a mess, and went to uselessly smooth down the front. “You… miracled the glasses full a few times, didn’t you?”

“I think? I-- ah, yes. Yes I did. In front of witnesses.”

“Drunk witnesses. They will either forget about it, or think they dreamed it up.”

“God, I hope so. If Michael finds out, I’m going to be in trouble.”

“You can sleep on my couch if they cast you out,” Gabriel tried to joke, trying to brush back his hair and entirely missing the uncomfortable look Sandalphon gave him. “Agh, my head…”

“Wait, I can fix that.” A touch on the back of his head, and the pain was gone - as was the hangover as a whole, the unpleasant taste in his mouth and the ache in his lower back. Gabriel stood, glancing down - his suit was once again clean and pressed, too.

“... Thanks.”

“No problem.” 

He heard Sandalphon standing up as well, and turned to look at him as he miracled his own clothing back in pristine condition. He adjusted his collar, and cleared his throat. “Well, that was… an unusual evening.”

“It was,” Gabriel agreed. “Er… why are you here in the first place?”

“You summoned me?”

“I did?” Ah, he probably had. “... My apologies. I was intoxicated.”

“I could tell. But-- still better than having you scream and hide behind the Prince of Hell, no?” Sandalphon added, clearly trying to joke. His smile froze when Gabriel flinched - at the mention of Beelzenbub, namely, but Sandalphon couldn’t tell. “I mean-- sorry. Shouldn’t have brought it up. I know you have… good reason to want us to keep away.”

A sigh. “Do I?” Gabriel muttered, turning to face him fully. “I knew you wouldn’t have harmed me again. And I knew you didn’t have a choice when you did."

“But we sort of did,” Sandalphon said, meeting his gaze. “We could have refused and-- gone with you.”

“Rebelling to God on my account?” Gabriel repeated, and found himself unable to contemplate the thought. “You’d have found yourselves in Hell, and not Earth, for something like that. It doesn't bear thinking about,” he added, realizing the truth of it only as it passed his lips. Say that Michael, Uriel and Sandalphon had indeed refused to carry out God’s order - what then? They would have faced God’s wrath, probably thrown down in Hell, while Gabriel was stripped of his wings and cast down on Earth anyway.

And Gabriel found he couldn’t bear the thought. 

“We… we should have--”

“It doesn’t matter. The outcome wouldn’t have changed,” Gabriel cut him off. “It was… out of your hands. No point thinking about it now.”

A long breath. “All right. But I am-- glad we still remember you.”

Something about those words warmed up a spot in Gabriel’s chest. He smiled. “Thank you. I’m glad I never forgot you.”

“If there is anything you need-- anything at all--”

A sudden whistling noise caused Sandalphon to cut off, and Gabriel to pull out his mobile phone from his pocket. The battery was still full - a little miracle by Aziraphale ensured it never ran out - and there was a flashing icon on the screen, that of a text message. The number was not among his contacts, but Gabriel suspected he could guess who it came from.

He simply didn’t really know anyone else whose number could possibly be 666-666-666. No one he was on speaking terms with, anyway. 

Are we still on speaking terms?

Gabriel forced himself to ignore the thought, and opened the text message. There was a name, an address, followed by only three words: it is him.

Gabriel read the message again, then put the phone back in his pocket. He briefly touched his breast pocket, where the message Daniel had written was. He had memorized it, of course, so he could relay it to his brother, but what he hadn’t thrown it away; the reason why he had not were a few brief lines Daniel had written on the back of it that were not addressed to his brother.

They were addressed to him.

Thank you for doing this for me. Sorry I didn’t believe you when you said who you were but, I mean, come on. I miss having you around. You’re a good man, what does God know anyway? Hug my brother for me and give the guys at work a pat on the back. PS - Fabrizio was right, putting cream in carbonara does land you in Hell. Warn Łukasz to stop.

“Gabriel? Everything all right?” Sandalphon asked, and he looked up. 

“... Yes. I do need a favor, though.”

“Anything.”

“Could you give me a lift to Devon, by any chance?”

***

In the end, Lawrence Brown hadn’t moved too far from his old home in Plymouth. Or maybe he had, and made the decision to return to Devon in his later years; not something Gabriel could blame him for. Built by the sea, Paignton seemed a good place to live.

The house Gabriel found himself looking at, too, seemed the perfect place to spend one’s retirement; a small white cottage with flowers in the garden, and a tree for some shade. However it seemed that no one was home, which was not something Gabriel had really prepared for. After knocking the door a few times to no avail, and briefly considering writing a message with his phone number - not viable, as he didn’t have a pen - he decided it would be best to try again later. Before he went, however, he tried to glance in through the window, just in case--

“... May I help you?” 

A voice called out behind him, causing Gabriel to flinch and turn. He found himself facing what, for a moment, looked very much like a cloud; a very white and very fluffy cloud, with four legs, black eyes and a lolling tongue. A-- yes, a dog. Gabriel had been long aware of their existence, of course, but would never cease to be perplexed by the sheer variety of shapes and forms within what was essentially the same animal. 

He’d never really wondered how humans had achieved that, but then again, humans were capable of more than he had thought possible for a long time - up to looking at some of God’s most efficient killing machines on Earth and somehow deciding they were going to make friends out of them, tying themselves to said killing machines with a length of rope. Or leather. Or fabric. 

In this one case, it was leather specifically that tied that giant, smiling cloud of a dog to its human. A woman, somewhere between sixty and seventy, with gray hair pulled up in a bun, a rather oversized jumper, and thick black-rimmed glasses. She was looking at him questioningly, and Gabriel cleared his throat, giving his best smile. 

Come on, he told himself, you’re the Messenger. You have delivered far odder messages than this one. Just don’t start with ‘do not be afraid’. They always freak out when you do.

“I think you may, yes,” he said, still smiling. “My name is Gabriel Archer. I’m looking for Mr. Lawrence Brown. I understand he lives at this address?”

“Oh,” the woman said, “I’m afraid my husband is out for some errands, but he should be back shortly. I don’t believe we’ve met,” she added, not stepping closer. A little wary of a stranger she found peering through her window - Gabriel supposed that was normal, even if he hadn’t showed up in the midst of golden light with a vast array of otherworldly and, he could see it now, frankly unnecessary features for the task. 

The fluffy white cloud made a boofing sound, just kind of smiling at him, and Gabriel could see why she wasn’t counting too much on it being of any protection should he turn out to be… what did humans seem to fear again? Axe murderers? Gabriel certainly hoped he didn’t look like one.

“No, we have not,” he said. “Nor have I had the pleasure to meet your husband yet - I have… a message for him. From his late brother,” he added quickly. 

Whatever she had been expecting, that was not it. She blinked, recoiling a little. “... From his brother?” she repeated.

“Yes. Daniel Brown,” he said, and saw some recognition in her eyes. 

“He… talked about him, a few times, but not much,” the woman muttered, and it was easy to tell, from her expression alone, that it had been a sore spot for Mr. Lawrence Brown - the brother who had rejected him so long ago. She finally took a step forward, clearly reassured he was someone with an actual reason to be there that did not include mugging or violent murder. “Late-- has he passed away?”

“... I am afraid he has. I am sorry,” Gabriel murmured, and he truly was. It felt wrong, on every level, because it should have been Daniel to stand where he stood, to finally see his brother again after so long. He was meant to be a messenger but ah, he wished he didn’t have to be now. “I am here on his behalf, or… at least I picked up the search where he left off.”

“Are you his solicitor, or…?”

“Only a friend. Daniel had been looking for your husband to make amends, but he didn’t know… his current name.”

A sigh. “Of course, he would not,” she murmured, and finally stepped closer, holding out her hand. By her side, the cloud-dog kept wagging its tail, tongue still lolling. “I’m Berenice,” she said. “Lawrence’s wife, though you gathered that much. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Archer. ”

Gabriel smiled. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, shaking her hand. When he let go of it, it immediately went to rest on the dog’s head. 

“Well, it is awfully rude of me to keep you standing at my door like a salesman. Do come in. Lawrence should be back soon, or else he would have taken his walking stick. I still would very much prefer if he took it for short walks as well. He has a bad knee and I always tell him that his stupid kneecap doesn’t give a toss how long or short the walk is, when it decides to give in it gives in and he’d be in for a nasty fall without the stick. But he’s a stubborn old goat, of course. Pushing seventy and still acting like he’s twenty.”

Gabriel smiled, thinking back of the numerous occasions Daniel had insisted on picking up more weight than he could reasonably carry in the warehouse, just to show off, only to spend the entire evening complaining about his back ache… and then do it all over again the next day. “Seems stubbornness ran in the family.”

A chuckle. “I am sure he’ll be glad to hear more about what his brother was like,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. Gabriel hoped it would help, although nothing could change the fact he was there to inform Lawrence Brown of the untimely death of his younger brother.

“... I do hope I can give him more than bad news,” he said, and followed Berenice inside, daring to pat that dog-shaped cloud on the head to receive a soft boof and a very pleased look.

Maybe, Gabriel reasoned, the humans were on to something when they took killing machines and chose to make friends out of them.

***

"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." -- John 15:15

***

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#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #crowley #aziraphale #sandalphon #archangel uriel #winging it

[killshope]

so casual ,,,,,,,,,, modern verse background information , for what i would consider a very .................. like ‘catch all’ modern verse & will be using for all modern interactions likely .

warnings for ; s/ex trafficking / , abuse / , death / , drugs / , blackmail /

i’m willing to write w/ any muses in this verse , just let me know where’d you’d fit .

side notes : in this verse , ben’s grandfather anakin is the reason that leia and luke are so vehemently involved in bringing down organizations . anakin , a child from the streets surviving on spite , determination and making his living from carrying drugs was taken in by obi-wan kenobi , a straight edge mentor with ties to the law ( fbi ) . through obi-wan , anakin met padme , an activist for women rights and fighting to break down the crime infiltrating through cities by going after dirty politicians . anakin unable to escape the control of his past gang affiliations was given the option of continuing to work for them or they’d kill padme , his now fiance . during a stint gone wrong , anakin killed padme while out of his mind on drugs which were put in his drink earlier without his knowledge -- padme died but obi-wan finding them , was able to get her medical help before the twins were lost . anakin overdosed and leading both his children to develop strong dedications to eradicating crime and t/rafficking from their streets. it’s unknown but implied that anakin was likely taken as a trafficked child himself as his mother shmi was never found .

obi-wan incapable of taking care of twins / not allowed by the state due to lack of legitimacy as a ‘blood’ kin , etc. owen lars agree to take both twins but by the early age of six , leia was already showing immense academic skills , and bail organa , who had been visiting the children and helping owen when he was able , asked to take her in as his wife and he could not bear children and they would be honored to send her to the finest schools and prepare her as best they could . luke , taking a shine to the country life , rather than school , went a different route , investing his time in criminal justice and studying what made people tick while living a rather quiet life out of the limelight . leia , not wanting her skywalker legacy to taint her chances at political success , took the name organa at an early age , legally changing it long before taking any position of power . 

infamous undercover cop han solo , who single-handedly disbanded two major crime organizations with ties to drugs and se/x t/rafficking after infiltrating them as a smuggler for nearly 10+ years after his rags to riches story in which he put himself through the academy after living on the streets most of his life . wildly popular and inspiring leia organa , who met han solo while captured during a political stint in which she attempted to bring down the ‘empire’ by putting herself into their gang territory and was captured , only to be taken by jabba , the ring leader .  obi-wan had invested his time in helping them with anything he could , becoming a mentor and respected figure to both twins . leia , after being captured is able to get one last message out to obi-wan requesting help , to which he is able to get luke involved which eventually leads to her being saved . her brother luke , a private detective went to the authorities and together devised a plan to get han solo close enough to save leia & get the intel to bring down the crime ring . han and leia had a rocky , on again off again relationship , into which obi-wan benjamin organa-solo was born .

ben solo , grew up with very little emotional support . with his father han , working largely either away from home or undercover after being promoted to a government job ( ben isn’t sure what but thinks it must be something like a spy , or handler ) and his mother , involved in her own extremely busy and important life  , he was left largely relying on house staff to care for him . beyond this , he was introduced to his uncle luke at the age of 13 when his mother found him after punching a hole in his wall . while not the first time he’d broken something on purpose , it was the first time he admitted that the action made him feel relief . fearing , wrongly , that her son could be exhibiting similar tendencies to her father , she sent him away to be luke , hoping that getting him away from the city would help . 

through luke , ben solo made contact with a persona via email known as ‘snoke’. after being emotionally and physically blackmailed through photos of ben altered to appear as though he were committing crimes , and threats they would hack his internet profiles he was sufficiently scared enough to do what they asked . things started out small , deliver this to so and so , show up here and say this , but became more and more unsettling - have this girl call this number , get her to meet you at the bar but don’t worry about showing up. one night , a message appeared on his phone while he was sleeping with a address and a code word . luke , having been hunting snoke for sometime , assumed the worst , and tried to take ben in , who attacked him , knocking him unconscious and running for his life .

ben solo was known as code name kylo ren from ages 13 - 29 , working for snoke when forced to , and using his cover as an accountant at a corrupt firm to make money and stay off the radar from his family . ages 21-24 , ben solo tries to leave , running away twice , once he is beaten and left with a scar from eyebrow to chest as a reminder that he is owned by the company . ages 25-29 , ben has completely taken on the moniker of kylo ren , hardly remembering anything of his family or his past. age 29 , kylo ren meets rey.

my canon has 3 forks here .

if rey is a kenobi , then she is obi-wan’s daughter (out of wed lock or accident or something), or she’s adopted later on , etc. and she is working for the police , investigating the crimes of t/rafficking and / or the corruption in the accounting firm. she could also be captured - but either way , he meets her and tries a second time to break free of snoke.

if rey is a palpatine , then she works for snoke as well , either willingly or unwillingly like ben . when they’re put together either via a heist / etc . they realize together they can escape , they can save one another as she’s likely be indoctrinated since birth into the ring.

if rey is a nobody , then it’s likely she’s been either captured / somehow involved with the ring / or she could just simply fall into ben’s life somehow , as someone from the office , or just as a random person  . again , he would try to escape again after meeting her .

#obviously twisting canon somewhat because in this anakin didn't go vader exactly #dark / #sex trafficking / #cw / #tw / #read with caution / #death / #whew #i think this is a pretty good rendition of s/tar w/ars as a real crime type verse ? #001. 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑘𝑛𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑠 ☇ modern.

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

Be Still

A/N: Happy almost grey’s day! i’m a slut for hurt/comfort so here’s some amelia-centric amelink & amelia & meredith hurt/comfort! this is a little Wild bc a week ago I hadn’t even seen 15b lmao but i think this relationship is so good for her, and i’m really excited to explore a bit more about her past bc while private practice showed a lot of her background, grey’s not so much!

I’m thinking about writing a few more scenes (namely some therapy & an ultrasound scene) so lmk if you want some more amelink hurt/comfort! 

EDIT: I changed the title bc I’m a LOSER and I’ve been listening to the Killers a lot.

***

“If you ever feel you can't take it anymore Don't break character, you've got a lot of heart Is this real or just a dream? Rise up like the sun, labour till the work is done” 

-The Killers

***

Link leaned in to kiss her as she swung away. So he thought this was a sexy kind of stop on the landing of the stairs and not an I'm-about-to-flip-your-life-upside-down kind of stop on the landing of the stairs. “What’s wrong?” 

“Can we talk somewhere more private?” 

"Bad private?" 

"Pregnant, actually." 

Link just stared back at her. 

"So… can we go somewhere and talk?" 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.” They started up the stairs when Link’s pager started beeping. “Shit. I’m being paged.” 

Amelia couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved. She knew this conversation needed to happen, but it was all beginning to feel a little too real. “That’s fine. We can talk later. Text me when you’re free.” 

“Okay.” His gaze lingered on her a little bit too long. “We’ll talk later.” 

They parted and Amelia tried not to think about anything that had just happened - talking to Carina, taking a pregnancy test, the interaction with Link. She drove back to Meredith’s house in a daze. This was not how she expected this day to go. She pushed all of the thoughts away because she felt like if she let them take hold, they would kill her. But she felt them creeping in anyways. By the time she reached the house, her eyes were red and puffy and her heart was racing. 

Meredith saw her as soon as she opened the door. “Amelia? Are you okay?” Shit. 

She tried to tell Mer that she was fine, but all that came were more tears. She ran up the stairs and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She crawled onto her knees and sat with her back against the bathroom counter. She dug her fingers into the bathmat, as if that could hold her to the present, but it was no use. She could feel herself slipping. She was nothing more than fear and the memories suffocating her. There was knocking at the door, and Meredith asking what was wrong, but she was too far away. 

Suddenly, Meredith was on her knees beside her, with Amelia’s hands in hers. 

“Amelia? You’re having a panic attack. Everything’s okay. Come on, stay with me. Stay here. Amelia, you’re okay. I know you’re scared, but I promise whatever’s happening, everything is going to be fine.” Slowly, she started returning to reality. She didn’t know when she’d started hyperventilating. Everything began to slow down and her sense of imminent doom vanished, but reality crashed back into her. She withdrew from Meredith and turned away, breaking into ugly sobs. Meredith pulled her back into her arms and held her as she cried. Once her crying had subsided, Meredith finally spoke. “I’m going to go make you some tea, okay? You can come down when you’re ready.”

Once Meredith was gone, Amelia wasn’t sure how much time she sat there, trying to pull herself together. Finally, she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. She was a mess. She splashed some water on her face and tried to tidy her hair, but she still felt like a disaster. She took a deep breath and tried to hold herself together long enough to make it down to the kitchen. 

Meredith was sitting at the island reading a magazine. Amelia silently sat down at the table. Meredith brought over the teapot and a couple of mugs and went to the closet and grabbed a blanket, offering it to Amelia. She pulled it over shoulders and tightly around her torso, trying to take comfort in the slight release from the pressure of it around her back as Meredith poured her a cup of tea. 

Amelia slid her finger across the warm ceramic. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Not just for the tea, for-” 

“I know.” 

She took a small sip of her drink, but she still felt a little sick to her stomach. She hadn’t gotten morning sickness at all during her first pregnancy, so she was pretty sure her stomach was churning more from her anxiety levels than hormone levels. “Sorry, I know the last thing you want to do when you get back from community service is take care of more trash.” 

“Amelia…” 

“It was just a joke. Not a funny one, I guess.” She bit her lip. “I’m pregnant.” 

Meredith’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?” Amelia nodded, not making eye contact. “Do you know how far along you are?” 

She fiddled with the fray of the blanket, trying to distract herself just enough to maintain composure. “Ten weeks, I think. God, I completely skipped my period and I didn’t even realize. Then I went to Carina to talk about kinky stuff and she was all like ‘I noticed that you’re pregnant’ and I was like,” Amelia looked at Meredith miming wide-eyed shock. She retreated back into herself. “I don’t understand how this even happened.” 

Meredith sighed. “Sometimes things just happen. Do you… Do you know what you want to do?” 

Another wave of nausea arose in her throat. “I’ve been asking myself that for the past seven years,” she said quietly. 

“Listen,” Meredith told her, “I don’t know what that means, but whatever you want to do, I’m here. And Link’s a great guy, I’m sure he’ll support whatever you decide. You’re not alone.” 

Amelia’s lip quivered and another flood of tears started running down her cheeks. 

“Is there something else going on that I don’t know about?” She nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Amelia was still for a moment. “Can I show you?” she asked softly. She was so emotionally exhausted. She nearly felt empty, and she knew what happened when she reached her emotional limits. And she knew she was going to need to have a similar conversation with Link later that night. 

“Of course.” 

Amelia led Meredith up to her room and instructed her to have a seat on the edge of the bed. She knelt down to her second from the bottom drawer and reached into the very back. She pulled out a wooden box, about the size of a breadbox. She sat down next to Meredith and carefully opened it, offering it to her. Inside, there was a small urn, a clear plastic bag containing a birth and death certificate, a small hospital blanket, and a tiny baby hat.

Meredith pulled out the certificates first. “Amelia…” she whispered. 

“I never told Derek.” 

“Who else knows?” 

“Well, all of my friends from LA, obviously. Owen. Alex. You.” 

“Alex?” 

She shrugged. “He was just in the right place to cry to, I guess.” 

Meredith gave her half of a smile. “Well, now I know why you never answered the phone when we were trying to reach you and your family about Derek after the plane crash.”

“Ha, yeah. I actually tried to call him a few days after… I think I just regretted not telling him and him not being there with me. He didn’t answer, obviously. I finally confronted Addie about it, and she just… she had this look on her face. She knew about the plane crash, but she didn’t want to tell me because she thought it would be too much. So, yeah. Guess that was a pretty shitty week for everyone.” She started to laugh, and Meredith joined her. She tried to stop herself, unsuccessfully. “Why are we laughing?” 

“You’re the one who started it!” 

“I think I ran out of tears!” The laughing subsided, and she plopped backwards onto the bed. A few moments later, she heard the box snap shut, and Meredith joined her. 

“You know, this does explain a few things.” 

Amelia turned to her. “Like what?” 

“Well, you kind of spun out a little. After the pregnancy scare with Owen.” 

“Yeah. It wasn’t just a little.” 

“I was trying to be nice.” She paused. “Have you seen a therapist?” Amelia scoffed. “I’m serious. If you’re going to do this, or even if you’re not, you’re going to need someone to talk to who can actually help, not just laugh with you about shared traumas.” 

Amelia exhaled. “I know.” 

“That was easier than I thought.” 

“Listen, I have plenty of self-awareness. That doesn’t mean I do anything about.” 

Meredith sat up. “I’m making you an appointment. Send me your schedule.” Amelia groaned. “It’s really not that bad. And you get to talk as much as you want for an hour and no one can call you annoying for it.” 

“Fine.” 

“Listen, Amelia.” She paused. “I just want you to know… This could be a good thing, if you wanted it to be. I know it’s scary, and it’s not going to be easy, but I meant it. You’re not alone in this. You have people to support you. And you can’t let your past stop you from going after what you want. If this is what you want.” She stood up and started for the door, but stopped and turned. “And for the record, I think you are a great mother.” 

***

Meet me at 8? 

Sure. 

Her heart-to-heart with Meredith was helpful, but she really needed to get out of that house for a couple of hours. Not that this conversation was much of an escape. She really had no idea what to expect. She texted him her location and waited. He seemed like he liked kids. That doesn’t necessarily mean that he wants his own, though. And he didn’t even know her history. All of the shit she’d done. 

"Hey." 

She snapped back to the present. "Hey." 

Link sat down next to her. “So…” 

“So,” she breathed. “This is basically, like, the exact opposite of taking things slow, but… I-” she took a steadying breath. “I want to do this with you. If you want to.” 

He took her hand. “I want to. I want to do this with you, too.” She could tell there was a lot more he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure where their boundaries were anymore. “I- I really like you. I like talking with you, and laughing with you, and just being around you. But I also know what it’s like to have parents who hate each other. I mean, a part of it was definitely the stress of me being sick, but their problems started before that. I knew that they never would have stayed together for as long if it hadn’t been for me. I would never want that for my child. So maybe we could just keep doing what we were doing? And we can try to figure out if we work, you know, together? Or if we should just, like, co-parent?” 

Amelia smiled. “That sounds perfect.” 

“On that note, I think we’ve reached the point in our relationship when I can invite you to sleep over at my place tonight?” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Have we?” 

“Just one night.” 

“I have to be back here early tomorrow.” 

“So we’ll have dinner and go to bed. Isn’t that what sleepovers are for?” he teased.

She elbowed him playfully and tried somewhat unsuccessfully to hold back a smile. “Fine. Just one night.” 

He grinned. She liked making him grin. “Meet you at my place?” 

“Sounds good.” She always kept a couple of changes of clothes and some toiletries in her car because she never knew when a 12 hour shift would become a 24 hour shift. They stood to start towards their cars, but something stopped her. “Wait!” 

He turned towards her. “What?” 

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” He stared at her expectantly as she took a deep breath. “Listen, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me. There’s a lot of shit that I’ve done and seen and been through that I-” She shrugged. “I just don’t really talk about. I mean, you got some of it from my sisters, but that’s just teenage Amelia. Adult Amelia… well, let’s just say teenage me has got nothing on the train wreck that is adult me.” She paused, trying to find the right words, attempting to navigate which details she wanted to share. 

“You don’t have to-” 

“No, I do. I want to. When I was living in LA, I relapsed. Not too long after I got out of rehab, I realized that I was pregnant.” Her voice was shaky, and she crossed her arms tightly across her torso to try to steady herself. “He had anencephaly. It’s a type of neural tube defect. He lived for about 43 minutes.” There were tears in her eyes. Fuck these damn hormones. “So, yeah. I mean, there’s like, statistically a slightly higher chance that this kid will have a neural tube defect, and if nothing else, I’m just going to be even more of a mess than usual, which shouldn’t even be possible. So you basically chose the worst possible person to accidentally have a kid with, but I guess it’s a little late for that now.”  

He gently pulled her arms from across her chest and held her hands in his. “Amelia, there’s no one in the world I’d rather accidentally have a kid with. I think you’re probably the bravest, most badass person I’ve ever met. And you care about things - about people - with your whole heart. I know that that’s gotten you hurt in the past and it’s gotten you into messy relationships, but, I mean, I don’t know how many other people - former addict or not - that would meet a homeless teenage drug addict and their instinct would be to take them in. What I’m trying to say is there’s always going to be risk. But some things just have to be worth the risk, right?” She leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I’m in this with you, no matter what.” 

She blinked away her tears and withdrew from his arms. 

“So… meet you at the apartment?” 

She nodded.

***

A half an hour later, she was standing in Link’s closet-sized bathroom. He’d started cooking dinner, and she ducked out to change into something more comfortable. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she could see it: her boobs were definitely a bit bigger and her bra didn’t fit quite right anymore, although she was surprised that it was something that Carina noticed. Unless Carina liked to notice her chest. 

She rubbed her hand over her bare tummy. It terrified her, thinking about the tiny little fetus inside of her. But her life was a lot different now than in her last pregnancy. She was sober. She was healthy. So was her partner. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize it: a healthy pregnancy, a healthy baby. The idea was way too far away from her for her to cling to it, but it seemed noticeably closer than it had been that morning in Carina’s office. 

After eating and cleaning up, Amelia all but collapsed into Link’s bed. There’d been some kissing and flirting in the kitchen, but she didn’t have the energy for anything more. Neither of them did. It had been a long day. But lying there, under the covers in her boyfriend’s arms, she started to believe that maybe what Link had said to her weeks ago could be true: that maybe the worst had already happened for her, and that this could her good apple to balance out the rest.

#amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelink #Meredith Grey #grey's anatomy #ga #grey's anatomy spoilers #hurt/comfort

[hockeylvr59]

Promises part 2 || Auston Matthews

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Now don’t go expecting updates this quickly ever again because it likely won’t happen. All of your kind words and comments kept my muse alive a little longer than normal though and so while this isn’t as long, and it’s mostly filler, it is a part two.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2139

You’d been awoken by Owen’s cries twice that first night, though the first, Auston had managed to gather up Owen before padding down the hall where you could hear his mom helping him through the feeding leading you to roll over and go back to sleep. The second time you’d woken up first and everyone else the apartment remained sleeping while you snuggled the infant on Auston’s couch while the baby worked on another bottle.

It was shortly before seven that you were officially woken up for the day. Thankfully it was Sunday and therefore you didn’t have classes but Owen’s wails were certainly a less pleasant alarm clock than your normal one. Heading over to the pack and place you cringed at the smell of a dirty diaper. Picking Owen up it was clear that Auston had changed the baby’s diaper last because the diaper had leaked everywhere.

“Auston…I need your help.” You directed moving to the bed to kick at his legs with your knee since both your hands were currently occupied. When he stirred he just groaned and looked at you and you rolled your eyes. “The diaper exploded. I need help getting Owen cleaned up please.”

With Auston thankfully trailing after you, you headed out to his kitchen, grabbing the towel you’d been using to change Owen yesterday and laying it out over the table. With the baby laid on top of the towel, you motioned for Auston to watch him while you washed your hands before getting a clean diaper, wipes, a new onesie, and sleeper as well as a cotton swab from the bathroom.

The look on Auston’s face signaled that he was now finally aware of the mess Owen had made and you sighed as you bumped him out of the way so that you could undress the baby boy. With the messy clothes off, you tossed them in the sink for a quick hand scrub once Owen was settled and turned back to the baby.

“Now who changed you last Owen? Huh?” You murmured to the baby in a teasing tone causing Auston to flush in embarrassment. “Oh daddy did, didn’t he. Well, he tried but we’ve still got some things to teach him, don’t we.” As quickly as you could you worked on getting the baby changed, again walking Auston through the process.

“You’ll get it, it just takes some time.” You assured him. Once Owen’s diaper was on, you grabbed the cotton swab and after running it under warm water in the sink, moved to clean around the umbilical cord. The young Maple Leafs Center looked completely confused because he obviously hadn’t paid much attention to the stub before.

“What are you doing?” He questioned as you took a soft paper towel to dry the area you had just cleaned.

“I’m cleaning his umbilical cord. You know, the thing that gave him all of his nutrients while he was growing before birth.”

“I thought they got rid of those after delivery?” His confusion was kind of cute and you smiled as you got Owen completely redressed in clean clothes.

“They cut the cord, yes, but there’s a little stub that remains until it dries out and falls off. Until then little one here just gets sponge baths to keep him clean so that we don’t cause the cord to get infected.” Auston let out a soft ‘oh’ and you kissed Owen’s head as you picked him up before attempting to hand him off to Auston. “Now go hang with dad for a few.” You declared. “Unless dad wants to clean the poop off the clothes and then make breakfast.”

With that comment, Auston was quick to take him and they headed into the living room to sit on the couch, the sounds of SportsCenter filling the living room. After quickly scrubbing the clothes as best you could, you took them to the laundry room before returning to the kitchen to wash your hands once again before starting on some breakfast for the Matthews crew.

Knowing Owen would be hungry soon, you made up a fresh batch of bottles since the last of the premade had been used during the night. When one was heated, you took it to Auston so that he could feed Owen and then retreated to the kitchen, checking your phone as you paced the space, occasionally flipping food. There was an email in your inbox and when you opened it, everything about the past 24 hours was confirmed. Quickly you forwarded it to Auston’s email so that he could send it to his agent or whoever else might need it before you moved food off of burners and went to sit next to Auston.

“I just got the DNA report email, he’s yours, Aus…” You murmured. Running his fingers through his hair, Auston nodded before resting his hand on Owen’s belly.

“Yeah, I guess I was kind of expecting you to say that. I looked at the birth certificate last night and the name is vaguely familiar I guess.” Obviously, it wasn’t someone he’d had a committed relationship with that was for certain. “I still don’t know how I’m going to manage all of this but he’s my son so...I guess I need to step up and figure it out huh.”

“That would certainly be the responsible thing to do...and the right thing.” You agreed. “You hungry? I made food and I can take him while you eat?” You offered. Instead of the agreement that you expected, Auston just shook his head and declared that you could go ahead and eat first.

The rest of that day was spent with Auston calling Leafs management to update them on the situation before he had you help him shop for things for Owen so that he could turn what was supposed to be a small office into a nursery.

With Ema Matthews sticking around Toronto to help Auston until he could hire a nanny, you returned your focus to your studies, though you made sure to check in with Auston every day and popped over to his place a few times a week. You weren’t sure why you felt like you needed to help. Auston now had everyone in his life backing him up with Owen, but for some reason, you still felt like you needed to be around.

____

It had been about two and a half weeks since Owen was found outside Auston’s apartment when your phone rang in the middle of class. You had your phone set to only ring for a limited number of people, namely Auston and his mom.

Apologizing to your professor you slipped out of the classroom and answered your phone to hear Ema muttering curses in Spanish under her breath.

“Is everything okay?” You asked softly. Auston was currently out of town so you figured that Ema was calling because she had a question or something. Instead, she declared that she needed to fly back to Arizona for a day or so because one of the girls needed her and you were the only person she could think of to stay with Owen.

Auston had been interviewing nanny’s for Owen but hadn’t found one that he felt comfortable enough with to hire. So you knew that Ema was under a lot of stress trying to help her son but also be there for both her daughters.

“How soon do you need me?” You questioned, nodding when she told you her flight time and when she had to leave for the airport. Looking at your watch you knew there were only another twenty minutes of class left and you assured her that you would stop at your apartment for a few things after class and then be over within the hour.

The next twenty minutes dragged on, this was the first time you would actually watch Owen completely solo and while you knew you could handle it, you were a bit anxious all the same.

A quick stop at your apartment allowed you to gather up some clothes and things you’d need to crash at Auston’s, it also allowed you to email your professors for the next day explaining that a friend needed an emergency baby sitter and that the baby was far too little for you to bring him to class and expose him to the germs on a college campus so you would be absent the following day.

It was as you stepped into Auston’s apartment that you finally relaxed, quickly taking Owen from Ema as she once again thanked you while she gathered up her things in order to head back to the states. She insisted that she would be back the day after tomorrow but that Auston would likely beat her since they played a doubleheader that spanned tonight and tomorrow before the team would fly home.

Once Ema left after updating you on when Owen would likely need fed and changed again, you simply laid on the couch, baby cuddled against you. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep and once he had you went to lay him down in his pretty new crib before sitting yourself at the kitchen counters to try and get a few assignments completed.

It felt easy, comfortable just taking care of Owen, working on homework and making yourself dinner. Knowing that the Leafs game would be starting soon, you turned the tv on while cradling a freshly fed Owen against your shoulder while you burped him. When you had settled him into the cradle of your arm you shot a selfie of the two of you, you just so happened to be wearing a leafs t-shirt and Owen was snuggled up in a blue and white sleeper. Attaching the picture in a text to Auston you told him to ‘kick some butt because your two biggest fans are watching.’

You were surprised when your phone rang seconds later, with Auston’s picture appearing on the screen.

“Are you in my apartment?” He questioned.

“No I just kidnapped your son, yes I’m in your apartment.” You retorted quickly becoming aware that his mother had failed to inform him that you were on baby watching duty. Or if she had, he hadn’t seen it.

“Where’s my mom?” He questioned and you bit your lip before speaking.

“She didn’t let you know that she had to go back to Arizona for something for one of your sisters? She asked me to come watch Owen until you came back?” Auston let out a shaky sigh on the other end of the phone and though you couldn’t see him you were certain he was running his fingers through his hair.

“No, she didn’t. But it’s fine. Thank you for watching him.” He breathed. You knew he was upset with his mom but he couldn’t really blame her because he was asking so much from her in putting her life on hold to help him with Owen.

“Take a deep breath, everything is fine. Just go score some goals for us.” You assured him. “I can hold down the fort for a day or so.”

“Thank you,” Auston said softly before hanging up the phone and after a moment you let your head fall back against the back of the couch.

“The things I do for your daddy.” You whispered to Owen, who stretched a little before sinking himself back into your body. “I must be comfy huh little dude, I’m much softer than both your dad and grandma.” Most of the time you hated your body but for the moment you didn’t mind it because Owen clearly felt safe and comfortable pressed against all of your curves.  

The Leafs won the game that night, Auston scoring two goals, ones that you secretly hoped were him scoring for you and Owen. Though you’d hoped to hear from him, your phone remained silent as you got Owen ready for bed before settling in for the night yourself.

The following day was consumed with cleaning up Auston’s apartment a little while taking care of Owen and trying to stay on top of your assignments though you were missing your class lectures. Again, at game time you’d settled with Owen into the couch to watch his daddy play. Again you’d sent Auston a selfie so that he knew that you were both watching and rooting for him.

The only difference in your routine that night was that you were awoken shortly after 2am when Auston snuck into his room to change clothes before crawling into bed with you.

Auston was the only man you’d ever shared a bed with and while it was something you could certainly get used to, it was the only part of this routine that wouldn’t stay the same in the coming months.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #plus size hockey imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #tleafs #006

[omeliashepherdhunt]

Good for Us

Ch. 4

Owen rolled over in bed expecting to find his wife and daughter asleep in the other bed yet no one was there. The bed was made and her suitcase and the stroller were gone. It was only 8 a.m. How early did she leave? Immediately Owen picked up the phone to call her.

“What do you want Owen? We are about to board the plane.”

“Amelia. Please. I don’t want to fight. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It seems like you thought it out pretty well. People don’t just wake up in the morning and say ‘Today seems like a great day to get a vasectomy! Let me see if my doctor is available.’... So you got this done yet you weren’t even sure you were going to go to Utah... Maybe that was a lie too and you knew you were going all along.”

“I was on the fence much like I was the vasectomy. But I made the decision to go which lead me to just go ahead and get the procedure done.”

Owen wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He screwed up big time.

“Without discussing it with me.”

“It’s my body. I don’t need your consent to have something done to my own body.”

“Okay Owen. I’m boarding now. I’ll see you when you get home tomorrow, if you do decide to come home. You may be on the fence with that too.”

.

Amelia felt betrayed. She was so angry yet her head seemed clear. Her husband didn’t want any more kids yet she was already pregnant with their fourth. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal had he told her he was going to do it. They hadn’t reached that point yet in their family, or so she thought.

The kids, Deluca, and Amelia had just sat down at the dinner table with the pizza they ordered when Owen came through the front door.

“Daddy!”

“Dada!”

Both of their boys were so excited to see him so he came over to their high chairs to give each boy a hug and kiss.

“I missed you boys so much. Were you good for Mama and Uncle Luc when I was gone?”

“Yes Daddy. We pwayed in daycare and pwayed at da park a wot!”

“I’m so glad. Why don’t you two eat your pizza with Uncle Luc so Mama and I can talk?”

“Ok! We eat it aww gone?”

“Yep, eat all your pizza, please Leo.”

“Ok Daddy!”

Amelia wasn’t budging from her seat. She already felt like she was on the verge of tears and she hated crying in front of Owen.

“Amelia... Please can we talk?”

“I don’t want to talk. Everything is fine.”

“Everything isn’t fine. Please Mia.”

She glanced at Deluca who had his eyes fixated on his plate. She filled him in on everything but he knew to stay out of it.

“Fine.”

.

They sat on the bench outside on their front porch so that the kids wouldn’t overhear what they were talking about.

“Amelia, I am sorry that I hurt you. I never meant to do that.”

“You don’t want the baby, so fine. As the male you have the option to just not want it. But the baby is growing inside of me. I don’t get the luxury of just deciding one way or another. So this baby will be just mine. Your name doesn’t have to be on the birth certificate.”

“Amelia, that’s absurd. Just because I didn’t know about it, just because I got a vasectomy, doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”

“That is basically exactly what it means! Getting a vasectomy without even telling your wife definitely sends the message that you don’t want more kids.”

“If it’s that big of a deal, I’ll get it reversed.”

“Don’t bother. Because of my history with preeclampsia, they’re going to do another c-section because it’s too high risk to deliver naturally especially since I can’t have painkillers. When they have me open, they’re going to tie my tubes and Avery is going to remove the scar tissue so that I can heal right. Four is a good number for kids. I’m over this topic.”

Owen tried to hold her hand but she was quick to pull away.

“Amelia, please.”

“No. Please yourself Owen. Everything has changed. I can’t describe what I’m feeling right now but it doesn’t feel good. Owen, I’m your wife. I am the mother of your children. It hurts to be left in the dark. It hurts to feel like you didn’t trust me or didn’t want to discuss something so important with me. I look at those beautiful boys sitting around the table and our gorgeous little girl napping upstairs, and it’s like heaven on earth. We were meant to be parents and we are. I even think we are pretty damn good parents. This fourth baby should be no different to us. They will be loved as much as Leo, Luca, and Lyla. At least by me.”

Owen wipes both her tears and his.

“By me too. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I wish I could take it back. I should’ve talked to you. I want this baby. I already love it so much. It may not seem like it, but I do. I was just trying to look out for you. It’s not easy watching you go through surgery after surgery, yearly like clockwork. I love our kids so much but I love you more. It’s been a lot on your body. I just want you to be safe and healthy.”

Amelia flung her arms around him and buried her face to cry into his chest. These hormones were no joke and she just wishes Utah never happened.

Owen held her closely and softly rubbed her back to soothe her the best he could.

“We are going to be okay. We will get through this, babe.”

#goodforusomeliashepherdhunt #goodforusomeliafic #ameliashepherd #owenandamelia #owenhunt #omeliadrabbles #omelia

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, GREY! You’ve been accepted for the role of BENVOLIO with an FC change to FRANCISCO LACHOWSKI. Admin Rosey: Benvolio is a multi-faceted character who, in my opinion, is one of the most difficult to capture in a single application. There are so many different ways to pull him and he will cry out against all of them. Whether you wish to bloody his hands, have him save a Capulet, or send him away from the city again; all of them end in tragedy, all of them are never quite right. But Grey, in your application you managed to get to the very quick of his character. You gave him a distinct voice and an even more distinct heart. I can’t wait to have you ruin us all with him. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Grey

Age | 31

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her

Activity Level | Currently I’m off work on extended medical leave (unknown end date), so mostly don’t have any major claims on my time and should be able to be around most days. With that said, medical issues and meds will crop up from time to time. Once I return to work, I work 3-4 days a week, so will still have multiple days a week free.

Timezone | Australian Eastern Standard Time (AEST/GMT +10)

How did you find the rp?  | Rogue seduced me over, so blame her for everything please

Current/Past RP Accounts | Bellavie (from a very short-lived rp) -  I’ve also played with Rogue in several places over the years.

In Character

Character | Benvolio / Bellamy Santa-Domingo. Preferred FC of Francisco Lachowski.

         ✧ Bellamy ⟶ What’s in a name? For Bellamy, a wealth of self-discovery, definitions laid out ahead of him at birth, a path his feet have never wavered from. Fine Friend his mother called him, and perhaps bought upon them all their disappointment in his gentility with a name bereft of the thorns they so coveted. Fine Friend he was named, and so he lives, a shoulder for everyone’s burden while he struggles solitary with his own.

         ✧ Santa-Domingo ⟶ Saint of the Lord, he is labelled; baptised in the blood of his family, the holy mandate by which his father demands respect. What is a saint, after all but someone to venerate, to esteem, graced by God? But Bellamy knows that that is but the least of what a saint is, for saints are pained and fragile things burned in holy fire, martyrs all; sacrificial lambs to the glory of God — and the truest god his family bends knee to is that known as Montague.

        ✧ Benvolio ⟶ Thrice he is named and the third feels like a lie, ashes on his brow. Well-wisher they call him, Benevolence — yet they would ask him to be anything but. He feels the hollowness of the name as Damiano settles it on his shoulders, the calculated sop to his reluctance and he wonders how long he will be allowed to keep the illusion of truth before he must sacrifice it on Damiano’s altar, how long before the name is nothing but mocking contempt of the perceived weakness of his dream ( he knows too well how often in war softness becomes synonymous with weakness ).

What drew you to this character? | Benvolio was the first of the open characters I read, and I think that reading is probably what tipped me from considering the rp for the future to immediately applying. Even as I read through the rest of the open characters, I kept returning to the tab with his bio in it. While I did briefly consider Halcyon instead, I think my choice was pre-determined from the start.

Bellamy touches a lot tropes that I love to play with; Rogue once summed up one of my main types as ‘Damaged boys with daddy issues’ and on that Bellamy is almost a solid bullseye, the tragic figure of Atlas carrying everyone else’s burdens. There are conflicts within him, conflicts and contradictions that pull him in different directions, forcing him to play a delicate, and exhausting, balancing act in order to keep himself whole. Criminal yet cop, loyal yet selfish, duty yet refusal, peaceful yet fighter, ideals yet realistic — the inability to reconcile the disparate portions of himself leaves him feeling hollow with self-loathing as he counts his sins ten times over and values his virtues at half their rate.  Bellamy has ever been thus, a duality at war with himself; as play-Mercutio says: “Nay, an there were two [of you], we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other!”

APatroclus saddled with two Achilles to save from their own divinity, Bellamy is irredeemably entangled with his closest friends, unfailingly loyal and dependable. Roman and Marcello are his heart and soul, his very being — and yet he left. Oh, he came back, and the texts and emails flew thick and fast in his absence, yet still, he left, leaving them bereft in the middle of war. An abandonment — necessary, yes, but ultimately selfish, running to save himself without those who he would gladly lay down his life for.

Yet Benvolio’s biggest contradictions, deepest complexities lie in the very area that most would dismiss as his simplest aspect: his kindness, his softness, his gentility. So often, these traits are those that people write off, dismiss as naïveté or innocence, chalk up to an ignorance or blindness of the darkness of the world. Bellamy is none of those things, was never given the luxury of being unaware. Even as a child, the war shaped his life; even as a youth he knew too much of blood and cruelness and the rotted heart of Verona.  

No, Bellamy is not kind out of some innate inability to see otherwise, some childlike artlessness that means he could never be aught else — he chooses to be kind, he chooses to trust; and he does it in the full and grim understanding that doing so is the emotional equivalent of sticking your hand in the fire and asking it not to burn you. He chooses it because it allows him to live with himself, wears it as an armour that keeps him from breaking, because whatever cost he pays in scars for that gentility, however much he kicks himself for an idiot when it blows up in his face… if he chose otherwise would he ever be able to find his way back?

Likewise many dismiss his voice when he raises it for peace — idealist they call him, young they scoff at him, yet sometimes Benvolio feels like he’s the only one at all who sees. They celebrate victory while he counts bodies, count winnings while he watches the city crumble. He wonders when they all stopped seeing people and started seeing gold instead, when costs stopped being about finance and were first paid in blood. Could they not see that this tragedy was leading nowhere, that this tit-for-tat, blood-for-blood would only end with all of them blind? Could they not see that they were past the point where a victory could be anything more than Pyrrhic?

A warrior for peace; an absurd idea really, almost hypocritical, almost oxymoronic in nature, and yet, and yet — Benvolio learned, as the war poets learned ( battered paperbacks of Owen and Sassoon accompany him around the world, the margins slowly filled with all manner of scrawled notes in different colours of ink ) that people will dismiss the words of a non-combatant as cowardly, that only by engaging in the very thing they wished to end could they earn the right to speak out against it, that only by speaking from alongside them would the war-torn hear his voice. And so he takes his place in the trenches, stands shoulder to shoulder with his comrades and tries not to think too much about what they do, so that, one day, he will be able to end it for all. If the cost for the whole of Verona is his own blood spilled, his own soul crushed, how can he refuse to pay it? And yet how can he survive its paying?

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

✘ dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori⟶  ( price of duty )

Sitting in that airport, staring down at his phone as it rang, Mama picked out on the screen, his thumb hovered over the red end call button as he fought with despair. He could go, he knew, could let the message go to voice mail and answer the boarding call for his flight instead, jump another flight at the other end and head to the Andes, the Sahara, the Australian Outback. Say he hadn’t gotten the message, had been out of signal range. It would be easy, simple.

He’d plead conscientious objector to get out four years ago, but now the piper has come due. He answers the phone ( had it always been this heavy? ) halfway through the final ring and allows himself to be conscripted.

Bellamy has always been dutiful, responsible, loyal. Innately, intrinsically, he puts his duties and friends ahead of himself time and again, often at the cost of his own self, his own soul. A soldier in a war he despises, fighting a battle he despairs of no matter the outcome, Bellamy is quickly approaching the point where duty and ideals will clash more and more heavily, where he will no longer be able to wiggle through loopholes or forge a middle path. One day, war and duty and loyalty will push him, without mercy or respite, to the moment he dreads most, will require him to do something he doesn’t know if he’s capable of living with.

His hands are going to get dirty, and he fears he’s too brittle to survive it ( he fears he may not have as much issue with it as he should ).

✘ i would know him in death, at the end of the world ⟶ ( friends )

They are many and yet one, together and undivided since a time of vague memories and impressions. Bellamy doesn’t remember meeting Roman or Marcello, can’t recall a time when they weren’t sashaying into trouble together. Their bond is inviolate, one of the surest things in Bellamy’s life and by far the most precious.

They have always been inseparable — and yet they separated.

Bellamy parted them, and when he came back there was a harshness to the light inside his friends, as though the warm light of the sun had turned to nuclear glow; the fires of war. ( He wonders if that will be him in a couple of years. ) There are cracks in all of them now, cracks in their souls and their bond, even as they pass the whiskey bottle between themselves and try to pretend that nothing has changed.

Bellamy blames himself. He left, he thinks, and that laid the first crack between them. Now, he struggles to deal with that betrayal as he sees it, trying to amend for it by taking more and more for his friends, his brothers, while squashing all his own needs ( pretends he is naught but the balm and bandage as he bleeds out himself ) — how could he ask them for aught, now?

Cracks can be fixed, but Bellamy needs to learn again to take as well as offer, before he subsumes himself under everyone else’s needs and is killed by his own gone unmet.

✘ forgive me father, for i am only fucking human ⟶ ( loyalty challenged )

Mark Twain once said “But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner who needed it most?” and those words have always resonated for Bellamy, printed large on his heart. Odin has done appalling things, he knows, things that should maybe be unforgivable, but if he is trying to make amends then can Bellamy do aught but help him? Sinners need forgiveness far more than good men ( sinners are who forgiveness was made for ) and so he listens, and absolves him in his heart as they sit in a patrol car on a dark street sucking spilled take-out sauce off their fingers.

And yet in this day, when the merest of mercies to the other side raises cries of fraternisation and both sides lay pressure upon pressure on their soldiers to prove their loyalty he wonders if perhaps this will be the thing that causes them both to burn. They have no choice in who they share a car with but he wonders if that will matter before paranoia has run its course and they have done more than that, haven’t they? Drowned their sorrows together, doused themselves in the whiskey that may yet fuel their funeral pyre — and yet if Odin asks for help, can Bellamy do aught but hold a hand out to him? A lifeline, a hangman’s noose, rolled into one.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes - but not until I’m so attached that it will break my heart. GRRM says that you should mourn when a character dies, that you should care and that sort of attachment I feel is one that takes time to develop. But oh yes, I’m definitely okay with charactercide - just with an initial cooldown period please!

In Depth

What is your favourite place —

His favourite place? His mind swirls, an agitated snowstorm of images: the hot sun on his back as he sits on the ancient stairs in front of the Parthenon; the bright, airy, treasure-filled rooms of the British Museum; the serene weightlessness of floating in the Dead Sea; the sky shaded a brilliant sunset on a beach in Brazil, cocktail in hand…

— in Verona?

The rider on the question brings his thoughts to a sudden halt, leaves an echoing quiet in his brain. His favourite place in Verona? The city he’d run from as soon as he was able and had never wished to revisit?

As a child, Bellamy had fallen in love with Verona’s Library: the arching ceilings, the ornate decoration, the heavy books bound in rich and sometimes flaking leather, the dry and musty smell of ancient pages holding the words of worlds and centuries. It felt… reverent, almost Holy.

And then he’d learned of what lay upstairs, that above the rooms devoted to knowledge, to history, to making sure humans never forgot the mistakes of the past, Damiano and his court engaged in the deliberate repetition of humanity’s greatest fuck up. And then all it felt was tainted, sacrilegious.

As a teen, he’d come to love Castelveccio Bridge for the fragile peace that surrounded it. He’d perch on the edge with a book, back up against one of the buttresses, and let the river wind rustle his hair as he read or skimmed stones, or, later, passed around a bottle of jack with his friends.

But that too was marred now, stained in so much blood and death, and he wonders if there is anywhere in the city that has not been spoiled by this abominable feud.

“ To Tame A Soup, ” he says, eventually “ I guess. At least some good comes of it. But really, this whole city, it’s…” he shakes his head with a sigh, gesturing at the woman to continue.

What does your typical day look like?

He’s sprawled across the couch in the police therapist’s office; one leg dangles half-off, just enough for the toe of his boot to brush the floor, the other ankle resting on the armrest, one arm over the back of the couch. His sister always wondered why he was so neat and tidy in his living, books alphabetised, everything in its place, yet just threw himself in a pile where ever he landed ( he doesn’t tell her its because his books are actually worth taking care with ).

( He wonders what would happen if he deliberately failed this review, what Damiano would do if he got himself sent home on mental health leave — but then, he’s probably already bought out the shrink. )

“ Much the same as anyone else’s, probably. ” He tips his head back over the armrest to look at her, upside down. “ Work, food, sleep, a book here and there… I adopted a cat last week, so there’s that. ”

What has been your biggest mistake?

“ Coming back. ” The worlds fall out before he can stop them, almost tripping over the end of the question in their hurry to break free. For a moment he wonders if he should take it back, prevaricate, maybe say that leaving had been worse ( though nothing in his life had ever felt so right as that moment the plane had lifted from the ground ). But — no, there is no need. If she was in the Montague pocket then well… Damiano, the rest… they already knew how he felt about being back. And if she wasn’t reporting, what did it matter?

She watches him for a moment, as though expecting him to elaborate, but when he doesn’t she moves onto the next question with a faint sigh.

What has been the most difficult task asked of you thus far?

“ The same, ” he says, mussing up his hair with one hand. Uneasiness pricks him; it’s far too difficult to ignore the foreboding in the words thus far. He’s well aware that so far, he hasn’t been asked for anything completely outside his comfort zone, that, for whatever reason, the hardest of his boundaries have been respected. He thinks he might have Roman’s influence to thank for that, but he doubts it will last. No, more than that, he knows it won’t. And, as much as he wants to reassure himself that when it comes to it he will do what is right… some part of him, buried deep, knows that he’ll answer the call.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

There is a freedom in this answer, for as neither Bellamy nor Benvolio has he ever hidden his opinion on this front. “ It’s bloody fucking stupid, isn’t it. ” He snorts, then sighs and waves a hand. “ No one even remembers what started the whole thing off, and it’s well past the point where anyone can actually win anything… even if one side cleared up tomorrow, more has been lost than they’d ever get back so what’s the bloody point? At this point it’s just mutually assured destruction.” He sighs, and wilts a bit. “ Not that either side will ever admit that. ”

Extras: Pinterest board

#accepted #accepted: benvolio

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Jurassic World 

Summary: Their first day in Wisconsin, in which Karen meets Maisie, overspends in her excitement and Owen + Claire find out what happened at Lockwood Manor after they left. 

Part: 4/?

Hey guys, 

I’m really not the kind to do this but when times are tough you gotta try, right? I had to take my cat to the vet this week and it’s looking like she might need to go back. Problem is, I scraped the bottom of the barrel paying for the first visit and my employers aren’t doing anything to get me more shifts. So, I have a ko-fi account set up where you can donate the cost of a coffee ($3) or more. That choice is up to you. 

Anyway, I don’t think there were any specific requests for this chapter so here we have it!

AO3

LITTLE NUTBROWN HARE

They were approaching Karen’s door at 8:30am almost to the minute.

Claire could barely sit still that morning, fidgeting as she fed Maisie the second the girl cracked her eyes and made a sound. From there, she wanted to leave. Ready to get it all over with and face the unknown her sister would bring.

She knew, as well, that if they wanted to catch Karen before she left for work they would have to be there early. Or else, they faced turning up to Karen’s office or be left to the streets and shopping malls all afternoon. Claire, no matter the sleep she had the night before, was tired to her bones and was longing for the comfort and security that came with her sister’s home.

‘Do you want me to hold her?’ Owen asked, turning to Claire who was a step behind him and checking that she was alright to carry Maisie. Claire shook her head, holding Maisie with a hand behind her neck, little girl vertical against her chest, cheek slack against Claire’s shoulder. She smiled at him, eyes closed and blissful as her hand stroked the back of Maisie’s head.

Karen’s car was still sitting in the driveway, promising Claire her sister was home as Owen took to the last step on the porch and knocked on the door. They waited Owen throwing her a smile over his shoulder, brows raised.

‘Just a minute,’ Karen’s voice called from inside the house, commotion following for a minute before she appeared, door open. ‘Owen,’ Her voice dropped, patient morning smile melting away for a minute. Claire saw the worry, instantly and the panic that slid across her sister’s eyes. Owen Grady was standing there, on her doorstep a little over a week after Claire announced she was heading back to Isla Nublar. The life in her voice fell, concern instant as Karen imagined why exactly he was standing there.

‘Hey Kare,’ She didn’t realise how far behind Owen she was standing, enough that her sister didn’t see her past the broad-shouldered man. Claire, took a step to the right, revealing herself as Karen melted, relief surging across her face as she reached for her little sister.

Claire stepped into Karen’s embrace, trying not to crush Maisie in the process as her sister squeezed tightly. ‘Why didn’t you-you have a baby.’ Karen changed mid-topic, ready to chastise her sister for not calling when her eyes settled on what she was holding. ‘When …? What …? How …?’ The eldest Dearing stepped back, a hand over her chest as her eyes darted between Claire and Owen. ‘I’m sorry.’ She stopped again, hand raised to her temple. ‘You did tell me you were going back to the island, right? And not, ‘hey Karen, I’m pregnant’?’ Their conversation was memorable for being one of a few arguments they had partaken in since the island incident that returned Claire to her family. ‘And that was a week ago, yes?’

They hadn’t thought this far ahead. Or, more likely, hadn’t discussed it between the two of them. Claire desperately wanted to lie to her sister. There was something there, pulling in the back of her head telling her to nod. But, Karen had been there when Claire cried on the phone about the possible end of her relationship with the one lifeline she thought she needed and again had been present when Claire returned from a doctors appointment that pronounced her unable to conceive. There wasn’t a lie they could tell. Not even adoption. Karen had to know the truth.

‘She’s not ours,’ Claire announced, forcing the words past a lump in her throat. ‘I mean, she wasn’t ours, but she’s ours now … not officially … we have to work that out … it’s, ah, it’s complicated.’ She was nervous in front of her sister, beyond their mother Karen was Claire’s first problem solver. She called bullshit on every hesitant excuse and whittled it down until it had a solution. This was going to be no different, Claire just knew they had a lot of whittling to get through, and it wasn’t always going to fall away quickly.

Karen blinked, staring at her sister for a moment before she stepped back towards the door. ‘Why don’t we go sit down?’ She offered, leading them inside and closing the door behind them. ‘What happened with the island?’ Karen wanted to talk about the baby Claire was readjusting in her arms, Owen watching her with care, ready to leap up and assist as they settled in the living room. She needed to know about the island first. There had been a few things on the news in the past few days, but she knew to trust those who had been there over the media. ‘Were you at Lockwood? Do you know what happened there?’

She didn’t question the fact that Owen was present. Karen knew if he was there it had meant Claire reached out, before or after the events. ‘We went,’ Owen answered, ‘to the island’. His words were hollow, not quite filling themselves with emotion as he tried to avoid the details. ‘I don’t know what happened at Lockwood after we left.’ His eyes shone. Owen wanted to know, but there had also been a fear there and knowledge that good or bad news was partly because of what they had done.

‘We lost our phones,’ Claire added, hers long gone before she realised. ‘I wanted to call, but I didn’t know if it was safe.’

‘Safe?’ Karen asked, and they spent a few minutes describing Eli Mills and Wheatley, the peril they had left them in and the threat to their lives.

‘I took her,’ Claire said after a minute, eyes on the girl in her arms. She wished, for a second that they had brought the car seat in, but as much as Claire’s arms were hurting from holding the infant, she didn’t want to let her go. Karen stuttered, staring at her sister with disbelief. Of all people capable and willing to kidnap a baby, Claire was the last on Karen’s mind.  

‘It was the right thing to do,’ Owen followed with a nod. Karen just gaped at them, sitting too close on the couch like nothing had changed in the last few years, looking the part of a perfectly happy couple with their newborn baby. ‘Claire doesn’t want to know the details, but she’s better off with us than at Lockwood where we found her.’ The eldest stared, blinking at them for a second as she tried to register it all. If the baby had come from Lockwood, and if Owen and Claire felt they were a better opportunity for her, then it had to be bigger than Karen initially thought.  

‘What are you going to do about legalities?’ She asked bluntly, staring them down like misbehaved children awaiting the deliverance of their punishment. Claire looked at Owen, who turned his head to look at her. They hadn’t thought about that. They knew it was a problem, but finding a solution hadn’t been something they managed to access. ‘She’s a baby, she’ll need shots and check-ups and all those sorts of things. She needs to be yours — registered, or else people are going to ask questions.’ Claire nodded, Owen’s head moving in unison. They had been concerned about a lack of medical records and were hesitant to see a paediatrician until they arrived in Madison. ’How old is she?’ Karen asked and Claire answered instantly, no hesitation. Nine weeks. She smiled, ‘under normal circumstances, you have eight weeks to register the birth of your child. She’s only a week over that. I think we can get away with it.’

‘What if she was already registered?’ Claire started to ask before Owen shook his head reassuring that she wasn’t. He didn’t know that for a fact but could guess off the nature of Maisie’s hearty file that what was happening to her was not something Lockwood’s team wanted to be out there and known. ‘So, she’ll be ours?’

Karen nodded, ‘birth certificate and all’.

Claire looked nervous, fingers pulling at the blanket Maisie was wrapped in as her teeth grazed her lip. The commitment hadn’t felt that big until now, not quite real. Now, they were going to own a piece of paper with their names on it, Claire Dearing and Owen Grady; mother and father. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she could do this.

‘Can I hold her?’ Karen asked, watching with gentle eyes as Claire felt her grip on the baby tighten. She didn’t want to give her over, didn’t want to let go. Just like that, a completely different question answered another worry. Maisie was theirs. ‘I’m not going to hurt her, Claire.’ Her request had gone unanswered, leaving Karen to prod again.

Owen’s hand found Claire’s shoulder before it smoothed its way down her back. ‘It’s just been us for the last few days,’ he answered, explaining away Claire’s hesitance like he was right inside of her head. It was the warmth of his voice and the reassurance in his touch that prompted Claire to extend her arms, baby in her grasp for Karen to hold.

Watching her sister hold the baby twisted in Claire’s gut. She knew Maisie was safe in Karen’s experienced arms, but Owen had been right. It had only been the three of them for the last seven days. They had their rhythm and routine, she was the one who held the baby ninety per cent of the time. She was the one who carried and comforted, no one else took the child to rock, soothe, bounce or feed unless it was Owen. She didn’t know how she felt now that Maisie was missing from their arms and in someone else’s.

‘What’s her name?’

‘Her file said Maisie.’ Claire answered in a heartbeat, smile small at the side of her lips.

Karen echoed the name, rocking the baby in front of her sister as she smiled down at the young face. ‘Are you going to change it?’ She asked, lifting her eyes from the button nose and small pouted lips. ‘When you register her birth you don’t have to keep calling her that.’ Claire could see where the concern had come from. Did they want their daughter to continue upholding the name that was given to her by unloving hands? Or, did they want to start anew, call her something that she and Owen had collaborated and agreed upon.

They hadn’t thought about that.

‘I … I don’t know.’ Claire stuttered. For seven days she had been Maisie, all-consuming and loved in her arms. It was just a name, after all. Owen shrugged beside her when Claire turned to look at him, their bodies creeping closer now that there was no Maisie to hold.

‘Maybe we can talk about it.’ He suggested, putting her panic at ease.

Karen nodded, ‘I’ve got to go to work, but make yourselves at home. The computer in the den doesn’t have a password.’ She knew, the first thing her sister would do would be to jump online and find out as much as she could about registering Maisie’s birth. At least, that was the Claire she had known before a baby had been kidnapped. She handed the baby back, Claire taking the girl eagerly as Karen smiled. ‘Motherhood suits you.’ Karen’s eyes watered, burning despite her want for them not to. She never thought she would see her sister like this. A mother. Even after a few minutes, watching Claire keep hawk eyes on the baby Karen held, she could tell something here was right, no matter the circumstances in which it came to be. ‘Gray will be home at 3:30, I’ll call and let him know you’re here. Do you need anything? There’s food in the fridge. You know where the guest room is. I bet there’s still some baby stuff of Gray’s in the garage if you want to hunt for it. Toys and maybe even a crib? But, call me, okay. I can get you whatever you need after work.’

‘We’ve got it under control,’ Claire told her, smile biting into her cheeks, pressing into a smooth dimple. Karen surged forward, kissing her sister’s forehead as she squeezed her shoulders.

‘I don’t know how you’ve done it.’ She admitted, pulling away before searching for her bag. ‘Seriously though, you guys don’t have to drive around to get things. You’ve been in the car enough.’

They both nodded, agreeing to contact Karen if they needed anything before she walked out the door and left them to the quiet of the house.

‘That went well,’ Owen smiled, arm wrapping around Claire’s shoulders as he pulled her into his chest, lips meeting her temple.

‘She has about eighty more questions.’ Claire hummed, glad they got off with the basics, but she knew there was more to come. Karen, if anything, was not forgetful and she wanted answers to the things she didn’t understand.

[…]

Claire took refuge in the den, fingers tapping away at the keyboard as the internet became accessible to her once again. She didn’t look for Lockwood Manor or updates on the dinosaurs. Her first thought was making Maisie theirs, Claire applying for a registration form before moving onto adoption forums.

She just wanted to know that there was someone else out there. Someone who had taken in a child entirely unexpectedly, who maybe had something to offer. Her alone time lasted the whole of forty-five minutes, Claire trapped in the screen until she heard Maisie’s cries, getting louder as the girl approached in Owen’s arms.

'I think she prefers the car,’ he told her with a shy smile, trying to bounce Maisie in an attempt to soothe her.

Claire nodded, ‘she would. Everything was right there. It was warm, familiar, she had our voices and our smell. Karen’s house is much bigger than the motels too.’ She reached for the baby, taking her out of Owen's arms without needing to stand as Maisie’s cries turned into grizzles. ‘Should we change her name?’

‘Do you want to?’

She shrugged, lip twisted between her teeth. ‘I don’t know.’ That was the name they knew her by and even though Owen said the girl had no mother; Claire wasn’t sure how she felt about taking her name away. ‘The registration forms might take a few days to arrive. We can think about it?’ And it was a ‘we’ problem because they would have to agree on something they both liked. ‘Are you sure about this? Once we sign that paperwork, you’ll be listed as her father.’

‘Claire,’ he stopped her. ‘I already told you; I’m staying.’

‘It’s okay if you don’t want to,’ she told him. ‘I’m giving you an out.’

Owen shook his head, sigh falling from his lips as he dropped to the spare chair. ‘I don’t need an out. I appreciate it, really. But, I’m here for keeps, Claire, what do I need to do to prove that to you?’ He was prepared, whatever her request. ‘Raising a baby, that scares the shit out of me. I won’t lie. But, we’re all she’s got.’

Her smile fluttered, small but warm, flickering to life across her lips as her hand ran soothing lines across Maisie’s partially bold head. ‘I just hadn’t really thought about what we would be to her beyond rescuers. Mom … Dad …’ she exhaled, cheeks puffing as the air passed her lips. ‘It’s a little surreal.’

‘Are you ready for this?’ She had been so concerned about him that Owen wasn’t sure Claire had thought about her own feelings. ‘Because, if you’re not —‘

‘No. I’m … I’m ready for this.’ How many times in the last seven days had she forced herself through those thoughts? Sitting in the car, the pages of her books daunting her until she stared out the window. Across seven days Claire ran through every scenario she could think of. Every positive alternative to their lives with Maisie and every negative. No matter the joy or the pain to each avenue Claire couldn’t see herself choosing not to keep that little girl.

She was scared, terrified that things would go wrong. Worried that Owen would leave, fretful that someone would come and take Maisie away. But, there had been positives, happy, joyful days, getting all of Maisie’s firsts, and being a mother. That’s what she wanted right? When her doctor told of her of the damage endometriosis had done to her ovaries. Claire couldn’t remember much of that day beyond feeling numb. She wanted to be a mother, the second she was told she couldn’t, and now that the opportunity was sitting in front of her she faltered.

‘I’m ready,’ she repeated, to herself and not Owen, lifting Maisie from her lap as she held the girl up in front of her face. ‘What do you think, Puppy?’ At face level, Maisie grinned, hands curling up towards her face. Owen was chuckling, either at the nickname or Claire’s face when Maisie managed a gummy grin. ‘She smiled!’ Claire gaped, pulling Maisie into her chest like the girl was the most precious thing in her world. ‘She smiled!’ She repeated, wide eyes on Owen, her hands holding tight to Maisie.

He chuckled, grin as broad as Maisie’s had been. ‘Yeah, she was doin’ that yesterday.’

Claire stared, ‘she was smiling at you, and you didn’t tell me?’

The apples of his cheeks turned pink, embarrassment and shame sliding over his body as Owen realised that somethings were milestones others wanted to cherish as a ‘first time’. ‘Sorry,’ he squeaked out, not quite meeting her eyes. ‘You were in the shower.’ From now on, everything would be documented, Owen was sure of it, anything new, anything different or remarkable, anything that made his cheeks split in a broad smile.

They were going to be her parents after all. These were the things they were made to celebrate and the stories they would one day tell their daughter when she was old enough to understand the significance of them.

Maisie was smacking her lips, small legs kicking against Claire’s stomach until Claire lifted her again. In front of her face, the baby gave another grin, fists curled under her chin as a spit bubble formed at her lips. Claire brought her forward, lost in Maisie for a second as she peppered kisses across Maisie’s small cheeks. ‘What?’ She pulled away, catching Owen watching her with a fond smile. His head was tilted, leaning on one angle with a dimple pressed into his cheek.

Owen shook his head, light sparkling in his green eyes. ‘You look good with her.’ She grinned, shy and flirtatious, eyes fluttering away from him as she kissed Maisie’s cheeks again before settling the girl in her arms. ‘And you called her Puppy.’ His smile broke, splitting into a wide grin as she rolled her eyes. ‘Sometimes the nickname just picks the kid. You have no say in it.’

‘I am going to find something better.’ She insisted, challenging him. The name was sweet, touching even and certainly tailor-made for Maisie, but Claire was sure she could do better. If not, just rile Owen up for the hell of it. ‘I think we need some tummy time.’ She changed the conversation, Owen’s smile biting into his lip as he watched her, listening to the ridiculous high pitched voice she took on for Maisie. ‘You coming, Daddy?’ Claire asked, rocking in the doorway, baby on her hip.

Pulling himself out of the chair, Owen shivered. ‘That just did things to me it shouldn’t have.’ Claire rolled her eyes, chuckle deep in her throat as she kept moving, leaving Owen in her tracks.

[…]

He turned the TV on as a mindless habit. Owen didn’t want it on, they had avoided electronics for a whole week (not entirely as a choice), and he knew there was too much to be filled in on. Naturally, they were both curious about the goings-on at Lockwood Manor. But, in the same motion, they were fearful of the truth. Nothing good in the news was going to come from that place.

It was too late, the screen flashed to life in front of them, Claire trapped under Maisie’s nursing weight, the girl feeding greedily and not so easy to detach. Owen was frozen with the remote in his hand, news already on, report halfway through.

‘Government officials are still trying to track down the dinosaurs illegally sold at Lockwood Manor last week. There is still no news as to what will be done with the creatures once they are located and reclaimed. The DPG are fighting tirelessly for a solution but were unavailable for comment.

‘It has been confirmed that Benjamin Lockwood was found dead in his bed on the night of the auction and that he had orchestrated the whole thing from his deathbed. As we have been told by the handler of his accounts and foundation; Eli Mills. We have also been informed that the remaining species unable to be sold at the Lockwood black market event, died due to a gas leak in the basement. Ventilation had also broken down, and with no option other than releasing the creatures to the wild, Mills was left to regretfully watch them suffer.

‘We ask our viewers at home and across the country that if you see something suspicious, you report it. There is no telling what could be done by the men who successfully bought the remainder of these dangerous creatures.’

They were still, Owen and Claire unmoving as the news program continued on with the next story. Claire was sure he wasn’t breathing, her eyes on Owen, catching the tension in his muscles through the shirt he wore. ‘Owen,’ her voice was quiet, scared. She wanted to get up, to encourage him to sit down, look at her, and talk. But she couldn’t move with the nursing baby. ‘Owen.’

‘What did we do?’ His voice was far off, hollow as he stared at the screen without even watching it.

Claire shook her head, ‘We didn’t do anything’.

‘We gave them access to that island, Claire. We lead them there, and then we left. We should have stayed. Should have realised what was happening. We could have stopped it.’ But he was wrong. By the time Claire gave Wheatley, and his men access to the tracking system on Isla Nublar they had already captured a large number of dinosaurs, poor creatures already knocked out and caged by the docks. They went to the island to save Blue, to access her tracking chip, not anyone else’s.

They, too, left the manor in a hurry the second they found Maisie. Owen had been agreeable to that. In their hasty escape they left Zia and Franklin behind, for a week Claire wondered if they were okay. Everything was abandoned the second they found Maisie, and if Claire was completely honest with herself, she didn’t regret a second of it. She wished they could have done something for the creatures that died, knew that if she was there being told to make the choice that it would have been a hard one. But that was neither here nor there, she wasn’t the one who was left to chose between their lives or humanity. She had already made that decision once, and it had turned out the people that helped her make it happen had been lying.

‘I don’t believe Benjamin had anything to do with it.’ Claire admitted quietly to Owen. They had been locked in a cell, looking through the bars at an un-remorseful Eli Mills, taking the opportunity to kick them while they were already down.

‘It was all Mills.’ Owen offered, voice strained, fingers curled into fists at his side. She wanted to ask about Blue. If Owen thought she was still there, dead or alive. Maybe she had escaped. But, Claire wasn’t the kind of stupid to go rubbing salt in Owen Grady’s festering wounds. She had done it once to get him on that goddamn trip, she wouldn’t remind him of it again. ‘I want to choke that son-of-a-bitch.’ His knuckles had turned white, circulation leaving his skin as Claire watched a vein threaten to burst on his throat.

‘They would have been better off on the island.’ Claire muttered, tear-filled eyes on Maisie. Unable to shake the thought from her head.

Owen grunted, finally moving to turn away from the TV. ‘I think you’re wrong,’ He told her softly despite the tension he held. ‘It would have been far more peaceful than what happened on the island.’ Sure, they had been drugged and forced to endure a boat ride before continuing out their last day in tiny cells. But, gas would have suffocated them quietly rather than burning them up like lava. They wouldn’t have known anything was wrong.  

He wandered off, leaving the room without another word fully aware that Claire was stuck not wanting to disturb the child. She thought about getting up anyway, calling his name and talking through what they had just heard. Claire decided against it. The house was quiet around her until she heard the shower running, confident that he was just trying to cool his head.

[…]

Karen arrived home a few minutes after five, Gray in tow with shopping bags filled to the brim.

Owen was the only one to greet them, both Claire and Maisie tucked away in the guest room drawing out the last few minutes of their nap. Karen gave him a sheepish grin, bags finding a temporary home on the living room floor until she had a chance to tear through them with Claire. ‘I’ve come to realise that buying for little girls is way too easy.’ That was evident by the long bill she accrued at the checkout. ‘Where’s Claire?’ He pointed a single finger to the ceiling, indicating the guest room that lived on the second floor. ‘Baby sleeping?’ He nodded with eyes on his watch. Owen was due to go wake them any minute. Karen clasped her hand around his forearm, muttering that she would go with a little too much glee.

He was left in the room with Gray, the boy shrugging off his school bag and toeing off his shoes. ‘Hey, Uncle Owen.’ The boy grinned, acting as if nothing had happened in recent months that had left his aunt and pseudo uncle indifferent to the other.  ‘Mom said you and Aunt Claire had a baby.’ Owen nodded, unsure of how to proceed. Did Karen tell him the truth or did she make up the lie Claire wanted so desperately to tell?

Upstairs, Karen tip-toed across the landing. Her palms sat flat against the guest bedroom door, pushing it ajar as she slipped in with the hallway light.

Claire was curled up on one side of the bed, throw blanket cast over her shoulder. She was breathing deeply, a sure sign that her sister was asleep as Karen stepped farther into the room. Maisie was wrapped loosely in a muslin wrap, her little arm free as her small body sat securely in the comfort of a doc-a-tot. She was awake, grey eyes open and blinking at the ceiling. With the state of her blanket, Karen could assume she had been awake for a little while, cooing to herself as she wriggled, Claire only inches away and unaware.

She rounded the bed, sliding herself carefully onto the mattress as she picked Maisie up. The girl settled in her arms easily while Karen tugged at the soft lavender wrap, freeing Maisie’s other scrawny little arm and her legs.

‘Hey, it’s just me.’ Karen soothed when Claire stirred, breath catching in her throat with a small fright. Her sister leant over to put a warm hand on her hip. ‘Just me.’ She repeated, her hand rubbing a soothing circle across Claire’s hip while her other arm rocked Maisie. ‘How did you guys go today?’  

Claire stretched, yawning as her body moved. ‘It’s good to be out of the car.’ She felt like they had some form of control with Maisie’s routine now that they were in a stable environment. ‘I don’t know what to do with myself. So, we just napped and nursed all day.’ She was smiling at the baby, a finger stroking Maisie’s cheek as Karen reluctantly handed her over.

‘I know I said it this morning, but you’ve got the makings of a good mama in you.’ Karen admitted teary-eyed as Claire soothed Maisie with a bounce of her arms and a kiss to the top of her head. ‘You’re obsessed with her.’ She admitted, laughing through the emotion that wanted to bubble forward.

Claire nodded, ‘Owen is too. He’s shy about it, though. I think I keep staring at him like he’s a completely different person. He’s soft, gentle, and intuitive … it makes me feel so warm.’

‘Boy, do I miss that feeling.’ Karen grinned, winking at Claire who only blinked. ‘The “I want to make babies with you” feeling which is ridiculous because you just had a baby and there’s no way you’re ready for another, but your body is overwhelmed.’ Claire laughed, head shaking at her sister as she swallowed the words she had said. It certainly placed the feeling, the clench in her uterus that so desperately wished it had his life inside of her. Claire shook her head, that wasn’t happening, and it wasn’t going to happen. ‘Is everything okay with you two?’ Karen asked voice lowered even though she knew Owen was downstairs with Gray. ‘I mean, this is a lot. A baby? Another Jurassic World related incident. I spoke to you a week ago, and you were nervous about going to see him, and now, here you are.’

All she could do was nod, ‘I think … yeah. He said he was staying.’ Karen hummed, not wanting to push her sister on the subject anymore. She had known Owen long enough to have a good perception of his personality. He was not the kind to be held down, a voyager of sorts left to drift in and out of whatever life he pleased. He loved her sister, Karen knew that much, but he was a flighty thing. A baby (Maisie) would have scared him senseless. Maybe even enough that he felt the need to flee. Claire said he was staying true and as far as Karen knew, he couldn't lie to the redhead. 

‘You’re staying here for a while, aren’t you?’ Karen asked, unsure of her sister’s intentions. She beamed when Claire nodded, confirming a small plan to stay for a week or two. ‘You’re welcome for as long as you need, Claire. Don’t go putting that sweet girl back in the car until you’re ready.’ Selfishly, she wanted to argue that her sister stay in Madison and settle down roots.

‘We’ll have to go home at some point,’ she had an apartment to sort out and Owen a piece of land at the foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Claire knew he wanted to go back to it. Maybe not immediately, but eventually. ‘Hey Karen,’ she caught herself on a different thought. ‘Do you remember that song dad used to sing when he was tucking us in?’ Karen beamed. She remembered. He only ever really sang it to Claire, a song for each daughter, but the eldest had heard it enough to know exactly what Claire was talking about.

I love you a bushel and a peck

A bushel and a peck though you make my heart a wreck

Make my heart a wreck, and you make my life a mess

Make my life a mess, yes a mess of happiness.

‘I feel it every time I look at her.’ Claire offered, her eyes on the little girl wrapping a hand around her finger. She only had eyes for Maisie and Karen couldn’t find an excuse to blame her. ‘It’s silly, isn’t it? To love her that much? It’s only been a week.’

Karen leaned in, pressing a fond kiss to her sister’s forehead, Claire barely lifting her eyes. ‘Not at all.’ She squeezed Claire’s arm, scooting closer to admire the baby like her sister did.

A throat cleared by the door at the same time someone knocked against the jamb. The two Dearing women lifted their heads to see a softly smiling Owen, Owen hand in the pocket of his jeans. ‘Gray suggested we order pizza for dinner. Is that okay with you two?’

There was something in his smile and the small crack of his voice that told Claire he had heard. She wasn’t sure of how much but knew he had been listening. How quickly she fell for that baby was no secret to him, but it seemingly continued to catch Owen off guard every time.

They grinned at Gray’s suggestion, Karen heaving a big sigh of relief. She had stopped by the store on her way home but had forgotten entirely about feeding an extra two adults. ‘C’mon, let's go downstairs. We'll order pizza, Gray can meet his cousin, and I can show you everything I bought.’

‘Bought?’ Claire turned wide eyes on her sister, a question forming on her lips. Owen shuffled in, easily lifting Maisie from Claire’s arms as he uttered something about her needing her hands free. 'Karen Lousie Mitchell, how much did you spend?!’

‘We're not discussing that,’ she announced, turning her head and pulling herself off the bed. ‘I’ll go get the take-out menus.’ With that, Karen was gone.

'It's a lot,' Owen laughed, waiting for Claire to get up and follow before he left the room.

As always, don't forget to tell me what you think! How long do you think Owen and Claire will stay with Karen? What's Gray's first reaction to Maisie + do you think I should include it in the next chapter? What else are you looking forward to seeing with these two and their little family?

#clawen #jurassic world #claire dearing #owen grady #maisie lockwood #maisie grady #jurassic world fallen kingdom #little nutbrown hare #my fic

[vaguely-gestures-to-the-void]

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

Spoilers below. Please correct me if I slip up. I am in no way shape or form educated on ANYTHING to do with the making of films, how to critique this stuff etc, this is all just my opinion. If I haven’t covered a scene, it’s probably because it’s already been covered much better than I can. This is my extended episode 1 review.

Episode 1: GLORIOUS PURPOSE

Pre-title scene

The scene titles looking like a train station combined with the scrolling through time is such a cool stylistic choice.

The music is familiar, but followed by an alternate shot of Loki as Cap. A different perspective of something known, how fitting. FYI, I’m going to mention music a lot.

Love how no one questions the Hulk terrifying people.

This is the last time Loki will hear Thor call his name, or speak to him. Oh darn, I made myself sad.

Marvel studios logo

The Marvel logo changing colours + Loki theme finally taking the centre stage. I love it.

The comments made on Loki soundtrack videos saying ‘I see that the Mandalorian soundtrack has become a genre’ are so accurate it hurts. Shout out to Ludwig btw, he deserves all the awards for his soundtracks.

My thoughts so far: This part is setting up the general shift in tone from what we’ve seen in past Marvel projects, even the other shows. It reaffirms the audience’s subconscious that whilst we are familiar with the characters, there’s new twists up ahead, subtle hints to oncoming mischief. Props to the entire team behind the series.

Gobi Desert Scene

As much as I liked the opening bug crawl, the following interactions look a bit CGId. I’m being picky, they really are gorgeous. It’s also difficult after having seen the Mandalorian, but that show really paid attention to scenery as it was an instrumental part of the story, whereas here it’s just one scene and all the others are stunning.

The parallels to Tony in the desert. Loki immediately rips off the muzzle (?).

I just watched the scene and yes, Tony rips off the mask immediately.

Also I think I would have definitely had a crush on young RDJ.

And Gwyneth Paltrow (GOOP LADY) if I didn’t know her now.

Props to Tom Hiddleston’s acting. Loki’s face when he sits up is just pure confusion but with the signature hint of indignation that I’d expect from his characterisation at this point.

The rock lmao.

THE MUSIC WHEN B-15 (MY QUEEN) APPEARS. HELL YEAH!

Also props to the supporting cast of minutemen, where does Marvel find these people? They’re so well choreographed, they all move perfectly and it’s a joy to watch.

Love the time doors honestly.

I couldn’t have been the only one who thought that the temp pads were Samsung phones for a sec right?

Lol is that unintentional foreshadowing about the TVA? Jk I’m just clowning.

Has anyone spoken about what the Temp pad showed?

My theory is that ‘Units’ refer to a predetermined rate of change [e.g. m/s] where one unit = one increment of change.

The steady rate of change here is interesting. I’ll talk about it more at the end of the next episode.

I love the music, just the slow ticking increasing in pace and the dramatic flares brought on by the strings (I think), simply divine. Natalie Holt got it spot on and props to Tom Hiddleston and literally everyone involved for understanding the importance of good music with this series. I’ll talk about this in depth in the next episode, just wanted to mention it when it first started that I noticed.

In retrospect, I can definitely retract my critique of the background in the scene. It holds up well now that I’ve rewatched it.

B-15 doesn’t get enough love. Shout out to Wunmi Mosaku, she’s a trooper and I’m here to hype her up.

Also y'all I just checked the cast list and ???? Mark Ruffalo, Jeremy Renner and Tessa Thompson are on it?????? MARVEL TF IS THIS WHAT TOM MEANT BY EP 4 BEING WILD I-

Tom’s acting chops: The face moment. You know the one. It’s pretty incredible.

Theory from me: the reason that Loki doesn’t see the hit coming is because B15 was moving unnaturally fast.

It’s the immediate change in the music to reflect the audience’s reaction at the standard fight scene taking a strange turn for me lads.

B-15 doesn’t smile, which I think is in character for her.

She’s seen this shit wayyyy too many times.

We’re not even five minutes into the first ep and a) I’ve waffled this much, Gods, and b) the music has changed at least 3?? Times to reflect what’s happening. I love it.

My theory about resetting the timeline: the reset charges get rid of anything in the immediate vicinity of the branch, pretty much a mini-apocalypse of the timeline. If everything is erased, none of it matters. Does that make sense?

Taking away the Tesseract while yes, it serves a purpose with showing Loki the might of the TVA later on, also reflects how nitpicky the TVA are about their time-keeping. They do everything in a very orderly fashion, but as we see later, the outdated nature of things is very human.

The TVA - the elevator thing

Man I love the TVA’s look. Someone (and I’ve heard that Kate Herron was also very particular about the set design) went to extraordinary lengths with every single scene, not just this one, but the one before as well.

Heck I just want to appreciate how much of a visual feast this series is. Good on ‘em.

The shots changing angle is also very interesting. They switch it up between one-takes, close-ups of differing extremities and it just keeps the flow fast-paced, ya know?

Watching Loki run was hilarious.

“Sounds dumb.” - Casey, Null Time Zone.

This weird robot is what I think of when the TVA is mentioned. Advanced tech mimicking a retroistic 70s feel.

The cat’s adorable.

The clock. The cup. The placing of props. Impeccable.

The clock’s hands don’t move whilst they’re on screen.

The realisation on his face when he eyes the stack of papers.

Why is the wall so badly scratched???

I love that the signature is in character. I have a huge thing for attention to detail lmao.

Again, why are all of the walls so scratched? If they could talk, I’d presume it’s just a set design choice but it’s interesting that they did that.

Does anyone else want a TVA sweater vest?

Tickets

The opening zoom in on Loki combined with the consistent brown-orange colours of the set makes the room look uniform and encompassing. I love how the lights are always placed in a repetitive manner so rooms are given the illusion that they go on forever.

Lighting here creates depth, but whilst the lights form a ceiling, we can’t actually see how they’re suspended and I think that’s neat.

The posters. Yes.

This is the first time I noticed the different minutemen uniforms. This one’s half orange-red and black. Pretty cool imo.

Shout out to Tara Strong and the entire animation.

The butterfly was a nice hint to the butterfly effect, and the music is perfect as always.

The wooden walls in the background of this shot. How very 70s.

The reflection showing the guy getting pruned is pretty cool.

Again, another clock with no movement on the wall.

The first 11 minutes are up and we’ve made it to the title! If you’ve read this far, congrats.

1549 Aix-en-provence, France

Just speculating, we’re in a church with an initial high-angled nearly bird’s eye view and then a cut to one looking up at Mobius. I guess it means even if we think as viewers our perspective is omniscient, we’re not spared from the mystery in this series.

Who’s in the stained glass window?

I love how they tie in a detail as small as the gum. It just goes to show when you haven’t got much time, every character interaction is meaningful.

Props to Owen Wilson, he really sold Mobius to me.

Mirrors in a church showing the devil behind Mobius. Or on his side.

Time court 37

The time court 37 really reminds me of train stations.

The chairs remind me of pews. They sure are reverent of the Time keepers.

The lighting is a cool, bluish tinge for the first time I’ve noticed. Especially on Ravonna (MY LOVE!).

B-15 knows Loki’s clowning lmaooo.

Ravonna isn’t here for it either.

Ravonna’s nailpolish is a very nice shade of brown.

Theory: Resetting is ‘being brainwashed for the TVA’. Not very original, but it’s interesting that the TVA thinks that Loki would be useful as a worker, unlike the guy who got pruned earlier.

The TVA exterior is amazing. It also extends forever in all directions, even down.

Time Theatre 25

What is that elevator music??

“I thought you didn’t like to talk” Ragnarok, anyone?

Loki reading the ‘Time theatre’ sign whilst rambling. Gotta give it to him, he’s always aware of his surroundings.

The little TVA logo on Mobius’ shirt.

Shout out to whoever did the costuming. Personally, I liked the shirts with no collars, and the armour of the minutemen and Hunters came off to me as practical but not ignorant of the branding that the TVA likes.

Theory (bear with me): Once you’re a part of the TVA, you’re not collared anymore, though there is an appearance of that on the shirts.

Seriously tho, what are those shirts like? Mobius doesn’t have a collar.

Why do the ties just… end?

Neat details:

Holo projector 35.

The lights being reminiscent of skylights but still leaving the characters in the dark. “The sun will shine on us again, brother.” Not yet.

The reflection of the projector in the table/on the ground.

Loki: *turns away.*

Mobius: *sips Josta.*

Seriously, the lighting is great. Loki moving in and out of the shadows? Great way to show his mistrust/ unease of the situation.

The illusion speech is the last time we really hear 2012 Loki in my eyes, mainly because Mobius really gets into the cracks of who Loki is and then there’s action.

The ‘I was- I am” Freudian slip is perfection.

Side note the music’s changed yet again. It’s definitely setting up the more mournful tones for seeing his mother’s death.

I find it interesting that the door is partially in the shadows.

Doors are symbols of opportunities, barriers and both death and birth from what I remember of high school English.

From what I know in interrogations the person being interrogated is allowed to sit with their back to a door. Initially, both Loki and Mobius are sideways, equidistant from the door. When Loki wants to run, he edges closer to the door, even if it is just to make a point. Excellent blocking in my eyes.

Oh man, Mobius’ little gestures.

“Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself.” I really don’t have to talk about the significance of that line, do I?

Frigga being stabbed in the back. Little solace to a dead man? Ouch. That hurt me too.

Loki’s wounds heal unnaturally fast, because he’s no mortal.

Mobius really drives home the last point. Who says ‘like you did your mother” ??? Owen sold how Mobius can influence Loki's mind.

The ‘best versions of themselves' line and showing Thor must have hit Loki hard. He spent two movies trying to prove who he is, measuring himself against Thor. And then he sees them both working together and being equals.

Loki’s escape

Wunmi and Owen’s line delivery is unforced and charged, completely in character.

Mobius looking under the table is hilarious to me.

The music.

The tidy cubicle = healthy timeline is a bit contradictory because they’re supposedly in the null time zone but okay.

Is no one going to mention the taxidermy ferret?

Loki just had an identity crisis. His ‘gut you like a fish’ seems in character.

The dude’s really questioning everything he knows lmao.

Casey’s ‘what’s a fish’ was really our first hint that not everything is what it seems to be at the TVA.

It amuses me that Loki’s on his knees when he gets the Tesseract.

I’m sure someone’s pointed it out already, but given that Loki takes back the Time Twister, it’s possible he could have stolen an Infinity stone.

Again, point’s already been made but Loki seeing the Infinity stones is what sells the power of the TVA.

Please, the rest of the office not giving a damn when one dude’s having some drama is hilariously on point. They really said ‘not my problem’.

Loki’s future

The screen on the table showing what he’s rewinding as it happens.

Btw if you pause any moment during that, you’ll see a scene.

A quick note on Loki’s characterisation:

He’s been through a lot in a very short period of time, quite literally finding out that his actions don’t have any consequences. He’s lost all autonomy, especially as a god who probably believed he was not as restrained as mortals. More on this in later Eps.

I really liked Ragnarok because it showed Loki and Thor’s maturity; they had to step out of legacies that were thousands of years old and come to terms with a universe that was much bigger than them. It also fleshed out their relationship as brothers, but not at the expense of who they were. Loki still is a schemer, and he talks more because he has less to hide in my eyes. He’s no longer just a villain, and that can’t be shown by just actions, especially in his own tv show.

Loki’s little laugh when Thor talks about giving him a hug. Man that was sad.

What shouldn’t be forgotten is that Loki doesn’t know how it ends. He doesn’t know whether Thanos gets defeated. For all he knows, he died in vain and left behind a brother with no family.

The collar says DANGER.

This is the scene that really nails it home to Loki that his purpose in life was to cause pain. He found out his glorious purpose in that timeline, he’s conflicted as Sylvie points out in Ep 3.

When Loki talks to Mobius, they’re both in medium shots. They’re on the same page.

Loki’s delivery has changed when talking about the 'illusion' but Mobius hasn’t. That may change in the later episodes.

1858 Salina, Oklahoma

Others have covered this better.

Sylvie’s theme is similar to Loki’s but not identical.

It’s got sinister tones which change throughout the series.

I love how you can see the images of the minutemen’s past and future as they walk through a time door, they literally step through time.

I’ve got a whole other post on the end credits scenes. Cheers if you read this all lads.

Ep 1 review

All in all, this was a scene-setting episode. One of my friends texted me and said ‘Loki really went through ten years worth of character development in minutes’ and I think that sums it up pretty well. It’s a great set up, but the next episode is where the plot begins to progress. Really enjoyed it. There’s not too much that was aided by what we know from ep 3 besides Casey’s fish from what I caught.

See y'all next time, if there is anyone reading this. Look after yourselves!

#spoilers #loki spoilers #my respect for people that write scripts/analysis of any kind has increased immensely. #opinion #things i've noticed #sorry if they're not original #i don't hate mobius he is just very good at being an interrogator and it scares me #loki #loki review #b-15 deserves love #the analysts (mobius) the hunters the minutemen casey every one of them deserves love #here's to everyone who worked so hard and put so much into this series

[milevenisendgame]

A Normal Life | Chapter 3:  A Promise Kept

Chapter Selection: [1][2]-3-

________________________________________________

“Now listen,” Pop began, “I know you’re excited, but remember;  it’s just for one night.  Just one.”

I sighed and closed my eyes, exhaling deeply.  “Just one night,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry, El.  I know it’s not what you were hoping to hear.  I know another year is a long time to wait, but...”

“But we need to be safe,” I interrupted him.

He sighed and gave me a warm smile.  “Yes.  Nothing is more important to me than keeping you safe, kid.  That, and your happiness.”

I smiled.  “I’m happy.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Halfway happy?”

“More than halfway happy.”  And I meant it.  

“C’mere, kid.”  Pop pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head.  “Thanks for being so understanding.  I know this last year hasn’t been the easiest, but it wasn’t so bad, huh?  We’ll get through this next one in no time.”

I nodded as Pop let go of me.  “I’ll be right back,” he said before walking away and disappearing through the front door of our cozy little cabin.

I walked over to the couch and took a seat, hugging my knees to my chest.  I could tell just how much he hated breaking this news to me.  Dr. Owens had agreed to help me live a “normal” life after Pop and I rescued him and closed the gate, but he said it would take some time.  The first step was my new Birth Certificate that Pop brought home just yesterday.  And now, I would be granted one night out; one very special night of freedom.  But for the next year, I had to play it safe.  Pop was right;  I didn’t want to hear that I’d have to wait one more year until I could leave this cabin or even step foot outside whenever I pleased.  I didn’t want to wait one more year to go to school.  I didn’t want to wait one more year until I could see my friends whenever I wanted.  But for this one night out, I’d wait forever.

My thoughts suddenly trailed back to more than a year ago.  It was late at night.    Pop and Joyce had taken the boys and I to Hawkins’ Middle School.  They built a sensory deprivation tank for me in the school’s gymnasium using an old wading pool and 1,500 pounds of salt.  I had just made contact with Will, who was still alive in the upside down, but just barely hanging on.  Pop and Joyce rushed off to Hawkins’ Lab to find him before it was too late, leaving the boys and I at the school where they thought we’d be safe.  

_____________________________________________________

“Miiiiiike, I found the chocolate pudding!” Dustin shouted from inside the school cafeteria’s kitchen, his voice cracking.

“OKAY!” Mike shouted back angrily before turning to me.  We were seated at a table inside the cafeteria.  His expression softened as he asked, “Are you feeling any better?”

I shrugged.  “What’s... put-ing?”

“Pudding... it’s this... this chocolate goo you eat with a spoon.”  Mike frowned.  “Don’t worry.  When all this is over, you won’t have to keep eating junk food and left overs like a dog anymore.  My mom... she’s a pretty awesome cook!  She can make you whatever you like.”  He smiled.

“Eggos?”

“Well, yeah, eggos, but... real food, too.  See, I was thinking... once this is all over and Will comes back and you’re not a secret anymore, my parents can get you an actual bed for the basement... or you can take my room if you want, since I’m down there all the time anyways.  My point is, they’ll take care of you.  They’ll be like your new parents.  And Nancy, she’ll be like your new sister...”

“Will you be like my brother?”

“What?” Mike frowned again and shook his head.  “No.”

“Why no?”

“Because... ‘cause it’s different.”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean.  I don’t know.  I guess it’s stupid.”  Mike’s voice trailed off, and he looked down at the ground.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?” He brought his eyes back to me.

“Friends don’t lie.”

“Well,” he hesitated, “I was thinking... I don’t know.... Maybe we could go to the Snow Ball together?”

“Snow Ball?”

“It’s this cheesy school dance where you go in the gym and dance to music and stuff.  I’ve never been, but I know you’re not supposed to go with your sister.”

“No?”

“I mean, you can but... it’d be really weird.  You go to school dances with someone, that, you know... Someone that you... like...”

“A friend?”

Mike shook his head.  “Not a friend, uh...uh... someone like a...”

And that was when he leaned in and kissed me for the first time.  My first kiss ever...

_____________________________________________________

The events that happened right after that are very sad, painful memories that I would much rather forget.  But despite how awful that night turned out,  I never once forgot how special I felt when Mike Wheeler gave me my first kiss, or how he asked me to be his date to the cheesy school dance called the “Snow Ball.”

My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the cabin’s door creaking open, followed by Pop’s heavy boot steps on the hardwood floor.  He slammed the door shut behind him and locked the latches. He carried a small brown box in his arms and took it over and placed it on our dining table.

“What’s in the box?” I asked.

“This is a surprise.  Kind of.  It’s mostly for you.”  He pulled the contents out of the box and sat them on the table as well.  It was green and shiny, and it looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.  “This is a telephone, El.”

“Tel-eh-fone? What’s a...”

“Phone.  Most people just call it a phone.  It’s a way to communicate, like we do over the radio with morse code.  Except with this telephone, you dial a number into these buttons, here,” he explained as he pointed to a set a push button numbers labeled 0-9.  “And you hold this part, the receiver, to your ear,” he demonstrated once again.  “And on the other end, someone else will answer, and you can talk to that other person.”

My eyes grew wide at both the realization, and the memory.  I’ve seen a telephone before.  Mike had one in his house, and so did Joyce.  I remember Dustin using Joyce’s phone to call his teacher the night they built my sensory deprivation tank.  Mr. Clark had answered from the other end of the receiver, and after some convincing, he explained to Dustin how to build the tank and what supplies were needed.

“I know what a phone is,” I jumped up from my seat and ran over to the table, my eyes still wide at this realization.  “I’ve seen them before.”

“Yeah?  Right.  Well, now that we’re making some progress with the powers that be at the lab, and your friends know about you, I figured it’s time, right?  It couldn’t hurt.  Give you a little window to the outside world.”  Pop smiled at me with a wink as he took a cord from the green phone and plugged it into the wall.

“Can I... Can I use it?”

Pop let out a deep chuckle, “Sure!”

I let out a tiny gasp and smiled, quickly grabbing the phone’s receiver. 

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,” Pop stopped me.  “Not so fast.  There are rules.”

I rolled my eyes and sat the receiver back down.  There are rules.  Of course.

“What’s our number one rule?”  he asked, his index finger extended into the air.

I sighed and crossed my arms.  “Don’t be stupid.”

“That’s right.  Now with this phone, it’s a new thing, so we have some new rules, see?  The first rule is this;  do not, under any circumstances, give our phone number to anyone.”

“Wha...” I tried protesting, but he cut me off.

“EXCEPT for Mike.  For now.  I’m fine with you talking to your other friends, but we still need to play it safe.  The fewer people who have our number, the better.  Understand?”

“I understand.”  I was smiling at the thought of Mike being allowed to have my phone number.  My cheeks felt warm, and I felt little flutters throughout my stomach. Mike could call me whenever he wanted!  

“Rule number two,” Pop started, breaking my thoughts.  “You only answer this phone if I’m not here.  If I’m home, I answer.  Got it?”

I nodded my head in agreement.

“Good.  I wasn’t going to let you answer the phone at all, but then I considered it could be useful during an emergency.  So here’s what we’re going to do.  If I’m not home, and you answer this phone, you say NOTHING into the receiver.  NOTHING at all, do you understand?”

I parted my lips and furrowed my brow at him.  I didn’t understand.

“What I mean is... You wait for the person on the other end to speak first.  You speak after you recognize my voice, or Mike’s voice, whoever it is...  You don’t speak until you know it’s safe.  Do you understand?”

Oh, now I understand.

“Yes, Pop,” I nodded my head.  “We need to be safe.  I understand.”

“Okay.  Good.  Good talk.  Here,” he said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.  “Go and call this Wheeler kid so he’ll stop leaving me messages every day at my office.”

My eyes grew wide with excitement and I could feel the smile on my face growing larger as I greedily opened up the folded paper.  Written in blue ink was Mike’s name followed by the seven digits that I assumed made up his phone number.  A few lines underneath that, my name was also written in blue ink along with seven more digits.  My phone number to give to Mike! 

I picked up the receiver, anxious and ready to call Mike, until I suddenly realized I’ve never used a phone before.  I looked over at Pop, who had retreated to the couch, and met his eyes.  I bit my bottom lip and began to set the receiver back down on top of the telephone.  

“It’s easy, kid.  Just dial Mike’s numbers into the phone.  Then you wait for someone to answer it.  When you hear them say ‘Hello’ from the other end, ask them if you can speak with Mike.  It’s that simple.”

“Okay,” I muttered as I lowered my gaze and smiled lovingly at my Pop.  

I pulled the green receiver back up to my ear and very carefully dialed Mike’s seven numbers into the buttons.  After a couple of seconds, I could hear a ringing from inside the receiver.  One ring.  Two rings.  Three...

“Hello?” a familiar voice answered from the other end.

“Mi... Mike?”  I tried to speak, but it was a whisper.

“El?  EL!  Is that you?!?!” His voice cracked.

“Yes, Mike. It’s me.” I smiled, but I knew he couldn’t see.  He must have felt it though, because I could somehow feel him smiling from the other end of the phone, too.

“El, I’m so glad you called.  I’ve been calling Hopper at the police station every day...”

“I know.  He told me.”

“Oh... Well, um... How are you?!?”

I smiled.  “I’m... I’m good, Mike.  I’m happy.”

“That’s great, El!  Me, too.  I’m happy to hear your voice.”

I felt my cheeks grow warm at Mike’s confession.  I glanced over at Pop to make sure he wasn’t listening.  He was still sitting on the couch and his head was buried inside a newspaper.  I turned my head away from him and focused my concentration back to the lovely boy on the other end of the phone.

“Mike, I have good news.”

“Yeah?  What is it, El?”

“Mike,” I loved saying his name, “I have a Birth Certificate!  And Hopper is my new Pop! He’s.... he’s.... a-DOPT-ing.... me.”

“El! Hopper’s adopting you?!?!  That’s amazing!  You’re gonna have a real dad!  El, I’m... I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks, Mike.  I’m happy.  Really happy.”

“Me too, El.  I mean... I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Thanks, Mike.”

There was a beat of silence before Mike spoke again.  “Hey, El?  When’s... when’s he gonna let me see you again?”

A wide smile curled up on my lips.  Oh!  How could I have forgotten!  I was just so excited to talk to Mike on the phone...

“Mike!” I practically shouted through the telephone receiver.  “I have more good news!”

“Yeah? What is it, El?!?”  He sounded excited.

“Well, it’s halfway... good news.”

“Halfway good news? What’s....just tell me, El.  What is it?”

“Pop is working with Dr. Owens, from Hawkins’ Lab.  That’s how I got the Birth Certificate,” I began.

“Go on,” Mike encouraged calmly.

“Dr. Owens is helping us.  Helping me.  He says I can live a normal life soon.”

“El, that’s absolutely fantastic!  You can come over and hang out with the guys and me in the basement.  We’ll teach you how to play Dungeons and Dragons, and watch movies, and we can go to the arcade, and...”

“MIKE...” I cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“Mike, Dr. Owens says it’s going to take... time.  To live a normal life.  It takes time.”

“Oh,”  he sounded sad.  “How long?  How much time, El?”

I swallowed before answering him.  “A year.”

“What?  A whole year longer?  No.... I... I can’t....  I can’t wait that long, El.  I just got you back!”

Mike sounded so sad and helpless.  My heart sunk, and I could feel tears welling up behind my eyes.  I couldn’t see Mike’s face, but I could feel his emotions through his words.  He was near tears, too.

“Mike, do you trust me?”

“Uh... yes, of course, El.  I trust you.”

“It’s going to be okay,” I cooed the same phrase to him that Pop had said to me numerous times throughout the past year.  “You can call me whenever you want.  But... JUST YOU, Mike.  No one else can have my number.”

“Really?  I’m the only one?”  Mike sounded a little happier than a moment before.  I could sense his smile through the phone.

“Yes.  We have to be safe.  No bad men.”

“Right.”

“And you can come and see me.  Pop already told me he would drive you.”

“He... he did?  He said that?” Mike’s voice cracked.  It was cute!

“Yes,” I said, thinking back to a conversation that Pop and I had during breakfast today.  “He told me this morning.  He will make sure we get time together.  He said a year was too long and he shouldn’t have kept me from you.  He’s sorry.”

Mike didn’t say anything in response, but I could hear his deep breathing through the telephone receiver.  In that moment, I thought back to all the nights throughout the last year that I would slip into the black void of my mind and go visit Mike in his basement.  He would be calling out to me, asking me to say or do anything to let him know I was there; that I was okay.  But I couldn’t, and it broke my heart into pieces.  It broke both of our hearts.  And it’s breaking Mike all over again just talking about it.

No.  No more.  I have to fix this.

“Mike?” I called, almost a whisper.

“Yeah, El. I’m still here.”

“Mike,” I smiled.  “I didn’t get to tell you the rest of the good news yet.”

“You... You didn’t?  But I thought...”

I cut him off, “I get one night, Mike.”

“What?’ he pondered.  “One night?  What are you talking about?”

“Mike, you promised.  Remember?”

“I promised?  El, I’m so confused.  I promised what?”

“In the classroom.  At school.  Before... before I went away...” the memories of that night are too painful to bare, and silent tears begin running down my cheeks.

“El...” 

“You promised I’d have my own bed.  And now I do.  You promised I’d eat all the eggos I wanted, and Pop makes sure of it now, and...”

“And I promised I’d take you to the Snow Ball.”

He remembered.  I smiled, silent tears still streaming down my cheeks.  “I get one night, Mike.  Just one.  Can we still go?”

“El, of course.  We’ll go.  And we’ll dance, and drink punch, and... we’ll even sneak in some eggos if you want.”  We both giggled.  “It’s gonna be great.  I promise.  It’ll be like this whole last year never even happened.”

My silent tears still stained my cheeks, but they had turned into happy ones. 

“I can’t wait, Mike.”

“Me neither, El.  I can’t wait to see you.” 

Mike had to go after that;  his mother was calling him to dinner.  Before we said good night, I gave him my phone number and explained Pop’s rules to him.  He understood and promised to call me the next day.

“And, El?”

“Yes, Mike?”

“In seven days, we’re going to the Snow Ball.”

I smiled. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said.  “Good night, El.”

“Good night, Mike.”

#Cara Writes #Stranger Things Fan Fics #Stranger Things Fan Fiction #Stranger Things #El Hopper #Eleven Hopper #Jane Hopper #Mike Wheeler #Jim Hopper #Millie Bobby Brown #Finn Wolfhard #David Harbour #Mileven #Fillie #Mileven Fan Fics #Mileven Fan Fiction #A Promise Kept

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that lead up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Epilogue (2)  [FINAL]

Cows. He’s back in the ‘right’ timeline and the first things he sees are cows.

He never liked cows. Sheep he could deal with. Dogs? He loved them! Sheepdogs? He’d never actually seen one before, but according to common sense he should love them, right?

But no, he had to land in a huge sloped field full of those big burly beasts. At least they sort of resembled sheep with their long brown fur that seemed to cover their eyes. Someone really needed to give those cows a haircut.

It took him almost a whole hour to orientate himself with his surroundings. Since the transportation device he’d just used had never actually been tested before, there were a few unpleasant side effects.

The main side effect that Deke came across was that he’d lost most of the feeling in his limbs. It was only towards the end of that hour did he remember that he was a robot. Huh.

After finally gathering up the courage to move and checking his pockets for the generous amount of money he’d brought with him, he stumbled his way down the hill to the quaint little farmhouse at the bottom. It didn’t take much effort to convince the friendly farmer that he was just an airheaded traveler who’d lost his way. He even managed to persuade her to give him a ride into the nearest city. Which, as it turned out to be, was Inverness. As in, Scotland.

Honestly, the accent should have given it away.

She was kind enough to just drop him off on the outskirts of the city. As much as he wanted to visit Loch Ness, he had a much more important place to visit.

He was too self-conscious to ask anyone what year it was. In his timeline (not technically his, but the one where he’d ended up living most of his life) he wouldn’t think twice about asking a random stranger even the stupidest of questions. But he didn’t belong here, he technically really shouldn’t be here is what Enoch had said, and so he had to try and avoid bringing too much attention to himself at all costs.

That, and the fact that he wanted to make a good first impression.

But that left him with the problem of not knowing what year it was. Honestly, they should at least display the online newspapers in store windows! The device had been programmed to take him to whenever and wherever the majority of his DNA was concentrated into a small area so that he’d hopefully get to see his grandparents together. He’d hate to arrive and there to be only one of them, or worse, none at all.

And since he’d made it to Scotland, he had a glimmer of hope that it had worked and that they were both still alive.

Asking around a little (he’d given up on trying not to), nobody seemed to recognize the names Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. But more than one person asked him if he meant Alya Fitz-Simmons who was apparently a very famous person within the city. That most certainly caught his attention. And after another painful two hours of asking random people, one elderly woman eventually gave him an address as well as a message to pass on (“Tell them that Elaine says hello.”)

He hailed the closest taxi he could find and practically screamed the address into the poor driver’s ear. The journey felt like it dragged on for hours. And still, somehow, it was over too quickly. The driver pulled into an estate that seemed to be a village of its own. Deke paid him and asked if he could stop a little further away and just show him which of the houses he needed to head to.

Once his feet touched the dusty old road, Deke felt like his metal knees would just collapse from under him. It was a straight path from where he stood to his destination.

It was the most homely, picturesque cottage he’d ever seen. There was a small wooden gate that led to the ivy-covered stone building, and there was a relatively wide area surrounding it that was protected by tall bushes. The section of the garden he could see through the arched entrance was filled with various species of vibrant flowers and bonsai trees. Next to the house, peeking over the top of the bushes, was a strong Acer tree that stood proud against the sky.

It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, and he hadn’t expected anything less.

He dragged his feet closer. One foot in front of the other. He was glad he didn’t need to breathe because there was no way he would have been able to at that moment.

It was only a few feet away. He suddenly broke into a run, half-prepared to break down their door but then his ears caught-

“Bobo! Nana, Bobo, look at me!”

He screeched to a halt. Though he knew it should be impossible, his heart still felt like it had been ripped out of his chest. It still felt like blood was pounding in his ears. It felt like his vision was blurred and his head was spinning.

It couldn’t be-

“You’re doing great, sweetie!”

That was his Nana’s voice. Jemma Simmons. Nana!

He quickly retreated to behind the bushes and resorted to pulling apart some of the sharp twigs (he needed to get used to the fact that it didn’t hurt) in order to peek into the front garden.

There… there was his Nana. His Nana looked like how he vaguely first remembered her- her hair grey and neatly tied in a bun with a pair of glasses hanging around her neck by a chain. She was sitting on a tartan armchair with her hand help up as if shielding her eyes from something. Next to her was-

“Get down from there! You’ll fall off and break your leg and I’m not gonna make that trip to the hospital.”

Bobo. Fitz. His usual, grumpy self with his itchy sweater and long beard. Deke felt a memory be unlocked when he caught sight of the walking stick beside his Bobo’s chair. Fitz had his phone in his hand but was glaring a little boy that was wobbling dangerously on a branch of that magnificent Acer tree.

In a flash, someone jumped up to catch him before he could fall.

“That’s enough of that for one day, little dude.”

Dad! His Dad, in all of his blonde glory. He looked a lot happier and healthier than what Deke remembered.

And if Dad was there, then…

“Play on the ground now Deke, okay?”

Deke felt himself choke up.

Mom.

She looked exactly like he remembered her, but there was one major difference. She was laughing. She was laughing and smiling and she was happy.

It was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly happy.

“Okay.” Said the boy, and only then did it hit him what his Mom had just said.

She’d called the boy Deke.

Despite his family being right there, Deke felt his eyes wandering towards the boy that had begun to chase a white butterfly that was flying around the garden.

Untamable brown hair. A scarily familiar spindly frame. Mischief shining on his baby face, as well as complete and utter adoration of the adults around him that was matched tenfold by said adults.

Doubt began to creep into his mind so intensely that he almost missed it when the boy, himself, turned in his direction.

Only then did Deke realize that he’d been shaking that entire time.

Green eyes met green eyes. One pair was full of trauma and survivor’s guilt, and the other of pure childhood innocence and curiosity.

Deke had never exactly seen a picture of himself when he was younger and had no idea what he would look like, but he was pretty sure that he never had the chance to have that sort of perfect childhood. He’d seen too much. The envelope containing many USB sticks filled with voice messages and pictures suddenly felt extremely heavy in his pocket.

That’s when he made the decision.

The second he noticed the tiny version of himself open his mouth, he turned and ran, not caring that the bushes noticeably rustled behind him, scaring a bird.

A robin. How fitting.

As the voices that he’d yearned to hear for years became distant, Deke finally stopped running.

There was no way he could show himself to that family. They were all happy together in the way that it was supposed to happen... Yes, he was jealous of himself, who wouldn’t be?

The last time he saw his Mom alive was the seconds before she was killed in front of him. The last time he saw his Dad was when he was being dragged, kicking and screaming, to his death sentence while Deke shrieked at him that he should’ve just listened and given up hope.

And his grandparents… he didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye either time.

The people he had just seen in the garden were Alya Fitz-Simmons, Owen Shaw, Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons joyfully playing with Deke Shaw. They belonged to that version of him, not himself.

People regularly called him selfish, so is it still selfishness if you’re doing something for the benefit of an alternate version of yourself?

Little Deke Shaw should live a normal existence. The life that Deke had often found himself begging for. A life without a weird future-past-adult version of himself intruding.

...He might go visit Loch Ness after all.

Pulling out that damned white envelope, Deke smiled through his pain.

He pulled out a pen from his backpack and scribbled on it.

“Elaine says hi.”

Before he went on a Loch Ness Monster hunt... he had a delivery to make.

[THE_END_]

#The ending is purposefully open-ended for you to decide what happens next! #agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #aos #fitzsimmons #fitzsimmons fam #deke shaw #leo fitz #jemma simmons #alya fitzsimmons #owen shaw #baby deke #fanfic #an odd family tree

[iamknicole]

Line In The Sand - Chapter Six

Tama Tonga/OC

Authors Note: Spousal Abuse, mention of Spousal Assault and Tama being Tama of course.

Tags: @lavitabella87 @macfizzle @vivalavonvon @romanempressfics @cool-snowball-22-blog @rollinsdar @designrwriterchic @anerdysouthernbelle

Sevyn woke the following morning feeling refreshed and well rested. She was a bit sore but it was a reminder of what had transpired between her and Tama in the backseat of the SUV. Her mind went back to her calling him 'Daddy', she had never called any of her boyfriends or Colin that. Tama had gotten it out of her without even asking. Then she remembered he had came inside of her, thankfully Colin had put her on birth control. He didn't want a baby messing up her body. After her shower, Sevyn went to see her dad. She was surprised to find him awake and sitting up. He smiled as he patted the space on the bed beside him.

 "Mornin', Princess. Sleep good?"

 "Yup. Sure did." She climbed up onto the bed, kissed Owen's cheek before getting comfortable next to him. "What about you?"

 "Slept even better knowin' you were here."

 Just like that they were silent. Sevyn enjoyed being able to have a little time with her father but she knew with this time came a curse. She knew Colin would keep her away from him for a few months again.

 "That Tama. He takin' good care of you, I see," Owen said quietly, "He cares about you."

 "He's nice, pop. I've only known him a few days, one of Colin's guys."

 "Where's that husband of yours?" The hostility in his voice was unmistakable. Owen never his his dislike for Colin. He tolerated him for his daughter. Period.

 "He had some business to handle. Tama and I have are gonna meet up with him."

 Owen could tell just by looking at her that something was bothering her. He wouldn’t ask though for he knew she wouldn’t tell him, not right now at least. She was always trying to handle things on her own. She was strong willed just like her mother.

 A knock came at the door interrupting their thoughts, Sevyn let them know they could enter. Seconds later, Tama’s head poked in with s small smile on his face.

 “I’m sorry to interrupt but we have to be heading out, Sev. Colin is waiting on us.”

 Tears started to burn her eyes, she didn’t want to leave Owen. She wished she could stay with him a little while longer. The time they got together fel.t way too short, she wanted to just lay up under him like she did when she was a little girl. But because of the choices she made, that was not happening.

 “Don’t do that, Princess. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’ll see you soon.” Owen assured her, placing a kiss on her forehead.

 “I love you, pop. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Tama was told that Colin and Pablo would be waiting for them on the jet however they weren’t there and it had been over thirty minutes since Tama and Sevyn had gotten on the jet. Tama sat going through his email while Sevyn laid her head in his lap playing with his free hand.

 “You alright down there, Sugar?” Tama asked staring at his phone.

 “Still kind of sore and tired but I’m alright,” she shrugged. Her answer brought a proud smile to his face. Knowing there were lingering effects from the sex he had given her was motivating for him, made him want to poke his chest out a bit more than usual. “Why do you call me that?”

 “Cause your sweet, Sevyn. Personality wise and taste wise.”

 Sevyn looked up at him, taken back by his response. His eyes never left his phone but he could feel her eyes on him. She was always staring at Tama when they were alone, like he was going to disappear.

 “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve told you that before. Have I not?” He asked looking down at her with his brow raised.

 “I mean yeah but geez, Tama. You can’t tell me something like that and expect me not want to jump on you.”

 “Don’t hold back, beautiful. You want this dick, you come get it,” he said moving the hand she held to her throat caressing the skin there.  Sevyn noticed the hungry look in his eyes, it was the same way he looked at her the first time he fucked her. The morning he sat her one the table and had her breakfast. His hand trailed south, ghosting over her breasts slowly then to the slither of skin that showed between the hem of her shirt and the top of her shorts. “You can have it whenever you want, Sevyn. But you gotta call me Daddy while you do it.”

 Sevyn’s hands covered her face to hide her embarrassed smile. She didn’t think he would bring it up, that it was something they both could ignore. Tama laughed as he removed her hands from her face. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I liked it, that shit was sexy as hell,” he laughed kissing both of her palms.

 “I’ve never called anyone Daddy. Albeit, I’ve only been with two other guys besides you,” she sighed.

 “It’s alright, Sev. You see what happened because of it. Had pull out game weak as hell last night, I had no plans to cum inside you, baby.”

 She giggled at his bewildered look, it made her feel better. “No worries, I’m on birth control. Colin doesn’t want a baby to mess up my body.”

 At the mention of his name, the pair could hear his and Pablo’s voices approaching the jet. Sevyn rushed away from Tama to sit her usual seat—beside Colin’s. A small laugh escaped Tama’s lips just as the two men boarded the cabin. The men greeted each other politely, Pablo hugged Sevyn briefly then went to take his seat. Colin, on the other hand, gave Tama a genuine smile then moved to pin his wife down with a glare.

 “Good morning, Colin,” she said politely.

 Colin eyed her then turned his attention to Pablo who was going through an agenda with him. Sevyn scoffed in annoyance, she figured he must be upset with how she spoke to his Becky. But he would have to get over it, she didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. The jet took off smoothly, allowing them to move around freely. Sevyn took off her seatbelt and got up to head to the bedroom in the back of the plane. She wanted to sleep without Colin’s negative energy beside her.

  The sound of the door opening startled Sevyn a bit as she sat on the side of the bed slipping her shoes off. She lifted her head to find Colin’s blue eyes shooting icy daggers at her. He closed and locked the door before walking slowly over to her until he stood directly in front of her. Biting her lip, Sevyn looked up at him wanting to know what he wanted. Colin gripped her chin harshly still looking down at her.

 “You think what you did to Maggie was cute? You think you accomplished something by doing that,” he asked harshly.

 “You’re hurting me, Colin. Let go.”

 Colin ignored her plea, squeezing tighter, “Do you know what kind of making up and apologizing I had to do for that little tantrum you threw? And you know very well that I don’t apologize.”

 “Colin, she was disrespectful. I couldn’t let her get away with that.” She snarled feeling angry all over again.

 Releasing her, Colin shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it behind him. Sevyn took that chance to scoot away from him on the bed only for him to catch her by her ankles and pull Sevyn back to him. He hovered above her, one hand on the bed beside her head, the other wrapped around her throat. His gripped tightened cutting off her air, she started to scratch at his hand and try to push him off her. “I told you to stop playing with me. I told you to watch how you talk to me. You just don’t listen,” he whispered capturing her wrists in his free hand. He had her wrists pinned to the bed above her, his eyes ablaze with anger while he watched her struggle beneath him to breathe. “Don’t you know I could kill you right now and no one would bat an eye? No one would miss you. Not even that dad of yours, hell I might kill his ass too.” Tears sprung to Sevyn’s eyes, she could feel herself becoming lightheaded from the loss of oxygen. His grip wasn’t allowing her the smallest bit of air. Colin leaned down to her ear, kissing the skin under it. “I could take all of the air out of your lungs right now. Do you understand that? I have your life in my hands. I control your life, not God. I am your god, Sevyn.” Colin could feel her body going limp under him as her eyes started to flutter close. He waited a few seconds longer before releasing the grip he had on her throat.

 Sevyn immediately started to cough and gasp for air. Her throat burned and her eyes watered as oxygen made its way back into her lungs. Her head was pounding and she was sure her eyes were red. Colin watched her struggle with a smile on his face, he let her hands go to stand and undress himself. Sevyn hadn’t noticed him disrobing until she felt him pulling her shorts down her legs. He climbed between her legs with a look that dared her to move a muscle.

 Fifteen minutes later Colin reemerged from the back bedroom carrying his jacket on his arm. He sat back in his spot, Pablo and Tama’s conversation ceased as their eyes locked on him. With a smile, he asked what was going on.

 “We were discussing the presence of some of Terrance’s people in Miami. They’ve been at your clubs and near the house,” Pablo explained. Though that was part of their conversation, it wasn’t the entire thing. They were discussing Sevyn, her treatment from Colin and Pablo was telling her things that happened before Tama had gotten there.

 “So what is the proposed action, Pablo? Is it something that should be handled right this moment or can it wait?”

 “Well, at the moment I don’t think it’s anything we can’t handle,” Tama answered honestly. “We don’t think they’re an immediate threat to you or Sevyn. But we do think she’s their ultimate goal right now. They’ve been askin’ a lot of questions about her around town.”

 Colin’s smiled dropped into a frown. Terrance and him used to be running buddies until Terrance got greedy and got himself locked away. He was too wild and loose, Colin knew this from the beginning but he kept him on until he became a liability. Terrance was out of prison, looking for revenge. It didn’t take him long to assemble a team that were happy to take Colin down.

 “Do not let him or any of his little people get anywhere near her, Tama. Sevyn is valuable to me that’s why he wants to get to her.”

  “Will all due respect, Colin. You know she’s a person and not an object,” Tama asked trying to disguise the disgust in his voice. Colin gave him an incredulous look about to voice his disgruntled response when Pablo cut him off. “What Tama is saying is that Sevyn is a very feisty young lady. It proves to be hard to keep her in one place without a fight at times.”

 “Ah,” Colin laughed heartily, “Trust me after my moment with her back there, Sevyn won’t be of any trouble. And if she is, just let me know.”

 Tama eyed him, silently seething in anger. He had heard the things that Colin had said to Sevyn so he was by no means amused by Colin’s words. Pablo is the reason he didn’t beat Colin’s ass. Without having to tell him, Pablo knew of the attraction between Tama and Sevyn. In ways, he was for it. Sevyn was like his daughter, he wanted better for her and Colin was far from it.

 “Go tell that bitch to get herself together and get out here. I won’t allow laziness.” Colin ordered leaning his head back and closing his eyes. Pablo put his finger to his lips then nodded his head towards he back of the jet for Tama to go. Pablo knew Tama’s patience was wearing thin with Colin, but he didn’t want to see him hurt because of it.

 Tama knocked softly on the door, his heart breaking with each whimper he heard through the door. She softly invited him in. Sevyn knew it wasn’t Colin, he would never knock on a door she was behind. He entered the room closing the door behind him, Sevyn sat Indian style on the bed with a pillow hugged tightly against her body. Tear stains covered her red face, her braids hung loosely around her face, swaying back and forth every time she wiped her face.

 “I know you’re not okay so I won’t ask. Come on let’s get your face cleaned up,” Tama whispered softly as he approached the bed. He held his hand out for her to take, after a few seconds of staring at it, Sevyn put her hand in his. Slowly, she walked with him her legs felt like they would give at any moment from how rough Colin had been with her. Her body ached, not in the good way it had prior to Colin’s intrusion. Tama sat her on the counter adjacent to the golden dipped sink.

  He wet a face cloth for her then gently cleaned her face of remaining tears and streaks. It pained him to see the happiness her eyes once held replaced with sadness and despair. When he brought his hand up to her neck for leverage, Sevyn flinched under his touch causing him to drop his hand immediately. It was then that he noticed the bruising on her neck.

 “What the fuck did he do?” Tama asked angrily.

 “Not now, please. I’m okay, I’m alright.” She whispered watching him with pleading eyes.

 “You’re not safe with or around him, Sevyn. Hasn’t he done enough to you? Is everything really worth what he’s doin’ to you?” He spat tossing the cloth into the sink. “I keep buildin’ you up, only for him to knock you back down and I’m not cool with that.”

 Without another word Tama left the small bathroom, leaving Sevyn alone with her thoughts and her tears. The same question he had asked was the same question she asked herself almost daily. Whatever it took to keep her father healthy and alive though.

#tama tonga #tama tonga/oc #my works

[werewolvesandvampireslove]

I DARE YOU TO ANSWER ALL THE PUT A NUMBER IN MY ASK QUESTIONS

Sorry, that I'm answering this late, anon. But alrighty. I'm doing it, but I'm not typing the questions out because I'm looking at the questions on my phone while typing it on my laptop. But this is the link https://werewolvesandvampireslove.tumblr.com/post/160961914801/put-a-number-in-my-ask1.Probably my best friend,Hannah(I don't like holding hands because my hands sweat easily and a lot. gross I know.)2.Shy(I can talk loud with my friends and that probably the most outgoing I am)3.My best friend,Hannah4. I hope and think so5. Hannah that my best friend, or Beau that is my crush/ex/friend6.Taller than me, sweet, funnier, kind, nerdy, kind of shy, flirty(yes, I'm thinking about my ex)7. I hope so, but I don't think so because he don't want to date and yeah it is kind of hard to explain even in my mind8.Beau that is my crush/ex/friend9.Not really. You get use to it when your mom is open about it.10. With my best friend,Hannah11.(With my friend Hannah)I said that is rough spot because with him it can be good or bad thing12.Straightjacket by Quinn XCII, Impossible by Lacey Strum, 4U by Backbear, Ain't so Sweet by Katie Armiger, FFYL by Quinn XCII 13.It differ with people. With people I'm not close with then no. If I'm close to them then yes14.Yes and no. Sometimes I do and other I don't. Part of me believe everything happens for a reason and some other part of me believe in luck, It is like free will vs destiny with me.15.Summer just started. I guess passing french 2 so I don't have to retake it next year. I'm horrible at the subject.16.YES! Thousand times yes. I still love him. But he doesn't feel the same way. Right now I don't know if he want to be friends with me since he hadn't really been replying to me since summer started.17.Yes, we don't really know. We are still exploring space.Until we finish exploring it we don't know.18. Yes, my ex is my first crush. But he hadn't really replying to me now. So I don;t know.19. Yes, but I hadn't had a bubble bath in awhile.20. I don't know. I don't really talk to them.21. Pushing things off until last minute, if I'm mad I blow up, can push people away at times, overthinking, get stress way easily, talk fast, and that is all I can think up at the moment but I know I have more22.Maybe Paris but I can't speak french well23.Yes, I do. People leave my life. They let other people tell me that they are leaving. Ask me if you want to know more. I can rant about my trust issues and there is more reasons than people leaving.24.Going asleep maybe or maybe walking around my neighborhood 25.my hands, underarms,feet,thighs, hold in roof of my mouth, stomach, hips26.Take my dog outside so she can go potty.27.Maybe more tanner28.My mom, mawmaw(grandmom), or Hannah29.I got only one ex. I think he regret the way he broke up with me. I think he doesn't know what he feels or what he want to do. Or maybe I don't know what he want to do.30.I don't know. I don't think I will get marry.31. Yes. The length is at my shoulders.32. Come on. I really not posted about spn because I got behind one day so I need to catch up. But Jensen and Misha33.a as(That is a little off. It's Anna so not too bad.)34.No sports. I have asthma and I'm clumsy 35. With tv, Sorry tv. I can't live without music. And youtube and website to watch show aren't tv. So I can get away with that.36. No. Beau know that I still like him37. Nothing. I'm natural awkward so I will just keep the awkward silence because I don't know what to do.38. Tall, nerdy, sweet,nice, kind of shy, funny, likes memes39. Underground Books which is a book store in my hometown and they have website, 5 and Below and hot topic40. Go to college and be a Veterinarian41. No. If they harmed you and aren't sorry about it. 42. That I'm comfortable around you, that I have nothing to say, or I'm mad and don't want to blow up on you43. I try to but I feel awkward 44. Bottom of the ocean. I always love water and want to swim. I love sharks too. I never really in outer space that much.45.Because I have to. I can't sleep all day.46.When everyone is going to leave me47. No, I'm a good girl. I never drink or smoke anything. And again I have asthma48.Nope.49.Well fan fics so50. Grey51. Yes!52. To not have a hole in roof of my mouth53. I don't wear makeup54. Hot Topic or Underground Books55. I actually don't have one right now. I think I had couple in the past but now I'm off and on on this site56. Blue or red57. Pizza or chicken58. Cupcake59. Potatoes bites60. No or nothing is coming to mind at the moment61.Nope. I'm a good girl62.Nope, but I have family member that been arrested63. Yes, I'm still in love, but he doesn't love me64. We were at lunch. We were cuddle and all that sweet stuff and he kissed me.65. Not really. I just ate cupcake not too long ago66. I don't really have tumblr friend anymore. We don't really talk so real friends67. Facebook68.Tumblr69. Yes, I was watching Steve Wilkos show but it went off and now Cheaters is on. I hadn't changed it70. Hannah71.Craving hugs and cuddles with my crush or just talk to him72. Mostly white but there are some color towels72.(there is a repeat of the number)I sleep with one pillow73.Well, my pillow is a stuff animal. Don't judge.74.Maybe 575.Dog or cat76.Blue77.Chocolate78.Banana Pudding. Blue Bell make it it and it is so good79.Blue and white. It is a plaid shirt80. Light blue and on the side it have some dark blue81. Spn even though I'm behind on it82. Princess Bride 83. MEan Girls84. 21 Jump Street.85. Cady Heron I guess I hadn't watch it in years so it is a burr. I know it is a sin.86. Nemo87.My mom88.Hannah89. My birth dad,David.90. My ex, Beau91.Yes, my birth dad, David92. No.93.One94. Two(I need to throw one away since it was my ex)95.I tried to watch Cinderella 2 but I didn't finish it.96. Lesley-Ann Brandt(And she is a great person)97. Misha or Jared or Jensen 98.I'm getting into tanning outside, My mom and mawmaw(grandmom) been trying to get me into tanning bed99.I got one dog,Dixie100.Im feeling good101. I type fast if I'm using two hands.102. Yes, I would made sure my ex was happy and stuff like that103.Nope104. Yes, My pawpaw John Knothead105. Yes. I live in the south so that have to happen106. I don't think so107. No, but I brush one108. Maybe walking or something109. Yes, my friend/ex/crush isn't texting me back110. Yes my ex111. Yes. 112. My mom. I hate crying in front of people.113. Maymay,Pooh,Sissy, and Anna Marie Knothead. All of them but the last one is what I still get call114.I been to Alabama to helped move my mawmaw friend stuff to her new house.115. I used to116. No117. Yes118. Yes.119.The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova,Howling Bloody Murder by Sue Owens Wright,Raintree: Haunted by Linda Windstead JonesTiger Eve by Marjorue M. Liu and that is only some 120.No but I have got to have tv on because of the sound121.I don't think so122. No123. Nope124. No125.Not for me. Maybe other can find true love but not for me126. Yes127. Reading, being with him, having fun128. My last name, yes. I like my first name129.Virgo130.Yes131.Well, the closest friend that is opposite sex is my ex so I would be happy132. Hannah133. "You say it's hard to tell what I've been thinking lately but behind closed doors I'm a fool for your live" FFYL by Quinn XCII134.Yes135. I'm fine and I'm okay when I clearly wasn't136. I sleep with it closed137. My ID say 4'11138. Curly hair139. Blonde(right now I have greenish blue hair)140. Summer141. I'm in the middle of night or day I can't choose142. September because of my birth day143. Nope. I got to have chicken144. Milk or white chocolate145. Sweet tea146. I guess. I did nothing today so far147. Smickers148. I don't have favorite quote149.Yes150.[grandpa.The fact that it was unlike any....