#ah yes workshop that's what they called it these days

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Hey, Jealousy

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, SMUT HEAVY CHAPTER, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: HELLO ALL! It's been a minute! This fic isn't going anywhere by any means, just had a bit of writer's block and lack of motivation to write for a bite lol. A special thank you to @lethalchiralium for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“This is your target. Memorize it.” John paused as the surveillance photo of their target, a dark-haired woman with almond-shaped eyes, made its way between the trio. He placed a black cell phone in the center of the table while Soap regarded the image. “Freyja, you’re the best pickpocket out of all of us. Your task is to lift her phone and swap it out with the duplicate. Rumor has it there’s a major weapon’s deal rearing up, and I want to know when and where.”

Taking a moment to examine the photo now pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Freyja raised a brow. While she wasn’t one to judge solely based on appearances (a tactic she relied upon herself many times), the woman pictured looked far from an arms dealer. She seemed fairly young. “She has the details?”

Price nodded and partially sat on the table, arms crossed over his chair. “She’s the buyer. Rather unassuming, I know, but our intel is good.”

“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbled, leaning into her space to sneak a peek. “They just keep gettin’ younger and younger…”

“Ah dinnae mean to be rude, but Ghost’s no’ exactly inconspicuous. A bit hard nae tae notice a giant with headgear at a social event.”

A fair point. Ghost was the tallest member of the team outside of König.

“Which is why you will be partnered with the Captain.” Freyja didn’t miss how her husband’s watchful gaze flickered between her and her co-captain. “You’ll have to couple it up to blend in; a single woman at an event like this would draw suspicion. Ghost will be going undercover as security detail and watch your six.”

“Me? Are ye sure, Captain?”

“Affirmative, Sergeant. I’d rather not have another incident like last time.”

“Last time?” Johnny looked between them. “What happened last time?”

THEN

It should’ve been a simple task, really. A pretty young woman lures a gullible, unsuspecting new hire to a roped-off room with certain expectations, only to be met with the cold steel of a knife to their throat.

As expected, the information burst from the young man’s lips like water through a broken dam, hoping to save his own skin. The quick execution Ghost offered was a mercy compared to what would happen if his boss found out he had snitched.

He could be merciful when he wanted to be.

The Simon she married was not a jealous man. A younger Ghost, at the beginning of their… “situationship”, however…

After the body was stuffed in the room’s closet, hopefully not to be found until at least the next day, he wasted no time hoisting Freyja up against a wall with ease and fucking her senseless. Her legs tightened around his waist immediately, her Venetian mask coming loose at the sudden movement and falling to the floor.

“Yes, right there. Hah, hah, nngh-”

“See what you do to me?” he growled against her cheek, hips snapping against her shaking thighs. “Can’t even get through a fucking mission without my cock gettin’ hard, and you’re over there, actin’ like a slag. Touchin’ that bastard like that-”

“I was just - doing - my job-”

Ghost’s brutal pace stopped and pinned her to the wall. One hand no longer supporting her weight, jumped from her ass to her throat, the bare, calloused skin squeezing the sides. 

“You took it too far. I should leave you high and dry for the show you put on.”

Her fingers scratched at the short hair near the base of his neck, earning a warning sound from the man. Freyja wriggled her hips to find some kind of friction, a release. “Fuck fuck fuck – please, Ghost, don’t stop. Make me come, please–”

“Yeah? Y’want me to make you come?”

“Yes, yes, please! Please, I need to come–”

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, so sorry! Fuck me!”

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I’m feelin’ forgiving.”

“Oh shit, thank you, thank you, I’m sorry–”

“You’d better be.”

NOW

The sergeant looked between Price and the couple, studying Price’s lifted brow and Freyja’s pressed lips and flushed skin. Ghost snorted beside her, which got him a sharp jab from his wife’s elbow.

“Bunch o’ rabbits, you two!” he snickered, laughing into his fist. Just how they managed to bone in the field so often, he’d never know. “It’s a miracle ye don’t have a thousand wee bairns by now.”

“Could’ve had them discharged for the mess I had to listen to.” 

“We said we’re sorry!”

“No, you said you were sorry. I won’t apologize if I don’t mean it.”

“I’m going to kill you–”

John cut them off, standing again and collecting his paperwork. “The target rarely comes out of hiding, so we can’t risk spooking her. Freyja, Soap, you’d better sell it.”

“Oh, I’ll make it believable, a’right.”

“And if somehow you find a way around this arrangement – please, for the love of God, no shagging on the job,” Price stressed, pointing at each of them for emphasis. “Got it?”

Johnny raised his hand.  “Ah would just like tae point out that, for once, I’m the good egg here,” he pointed out with a wide grin.

Multiple sets of eyes rolled. “Right then. Dapper up. I’ll see you all tonight.”

Ecstatic about their upcoming mission, the Scot jumped up from his seat, still beaming. He was already bubbling with ideas for their strategy, the backstory of the characters they would play, what he was going to wear–

“Johnny.”

“Sir?”

Ghost leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees as he looked up at the man. “Remember what I said about flirtin’ with my wife?”

“Aye.”

“Still in effect.”

.

.

.

Soap made it his mission to be as handsy as humanly possible the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he stuck behind Freyja when taking the steps up the grandiose front stairs into the venue; once at the top, his hand slipped across her lower back from one hip to the next.

Both operators kept their attire simple yet appropriate for the dress code. They complimented each other nicely; Johnny sported a simple black suit and a white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, while Freyja donned a rich, dark purple, satin gown with an open back dipping to her tailbone. They were meant to fit in, not draw attention to themselves.

When they entered the ballroom, crystal chandeliers twinkling above, she glanced around the perimeter at the masked guards. Only taking in their stature for a second before moving on to the next, attempting to locate their backup –

There.

Ghost blended in seamlessly, dressed exactly like the other guards stationed around the room. All black ensemble, black combat boots, and a balaclava with a window for the eyes. They met briefly with Frey’s before she shifted her gaze up to her date, placing one hand on top of his at her side, the other between his shoulder blades.

All night, Ghost’s stare could have burned a hole through her skin straight down to her soul as her partner positively manhandled her. Nothing was safe. Her ass, hips, bare shoulders, and stomach were frequently groped, pinched, and caressed; you name it, Sergeant MacTavish did it. He came up from behind with a champagne flute for her, pressing against her as his hands snaked around to cradle her belly. Kissing obviously wasn’t off the table, his warm lips frequently finding hers; he had enough decency to keep that portion of the night brief.

Finally, after an hour and a half of loving it up with her husband’s best friend, Johnny turned Freyja into a pillar, forcing her to squeak in surprise. Gentle kisses pecked from her collar up to her ear, using his body as a shield.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, keeping up the appearance of a drunk, handsy couple by carding her fingers through the back of his mohawk.

He chuckled against her hair. “That’s the idea, Hen. Figure one o’ us should get a good fuck outta tonight.” Frey rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to shove him. “Eyes on the target. She’s had a chance tae get settled. Move in on yer mark.”

She followed his guidance, subtle pressure at the base of her skull pointing her in the direction of their target. Thankfully, a small purse dangled by the woman’s pelvis on a long chain, ripe for the picking. If all went according to plan, Soap would walk them into each other, allowing her to switch the dummy in his pocket with the real thing.

Freyja initiated their objective by stepping in that direction but allowed her companion to take the lead. Clinging to his bicep and stumbling slightly, she whined, “You are in so much trouble when we get home!”

“Aw, c’mon Bonnie! Ah just cannae help myself!” he purred, bending to nibble her ear and give her a reason to jerk away.

“Hey, stop that!” As she lunged to the left, she fell out of the Sergeant’s grasp and into the young woman, grabbing her to keep upright. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“What the fuck!” She wheeled on them, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion into her conversation. “Watch where you’re going!”

Freyja huffed angrily in Johnny’s direction, straightening herself and her dress. “I am so sorry about him. You know how men can be. Always impatient.”

“Unfortunately,” the woman mumbled, nose turned up in disgust. If Freyja could rely on anything, she could always lean on most women’s mutual distaste for men. While it always felt distasteful to manipulate while undercover, it got the job done.

With a soft huff, Freyja grabbed Soap’s hand again and departed with a soft wave, tugging him toward their exit point. Ghost was nowhere in sight.

According to plan, the Brit had dipped into the women’s bathroom when he was sure the lift was successful, and they would eventually follow. Going into the bathroom after two people clearly looking for a space to hook up would look suspicious. The real trick was leaving enough time between their entrances that nobody would notice, without waiting too long for the other guards to notice Ghost’s absence.

She used her best high-pitched, giggling squeal and ditzy movements, swatting at the wandering hands pawing at the shiny, smooth material of her outfit. It had been at least two minutes since Ghost had disappeared, and she decided that was enough leeway for them to follow without raising any alarms. But just as her palm pressed against the cool doorknob, her ally stopped behind her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Freyja felt the abdominal muscles under Soap’s shirt tense; otherwise, his composure remained unchanged. “Sorry?” he asked with a laugh, keeping his body turned toward her. She refrained from ripping the stranger’s hand off Johnny’s shoulder and ripping back his ring finger–

The man smiled, perfect white teeth nearly sparkling in the light. “Ye owe meh a drink! C’mon, one more shot fur a fellow Scotsman?”

“Shite! Ah completely forgot!” Johnny hovered over her still and bent to run his nose along the shell of her ear. “Ah’ll be right behind ye. Just give me a fiver to finish my drink, aye?”

“Sure thing.” Freyja hung her hands on the lapels of his jacket, anchoring him in place to stretch and purr in his ear, “Don’t take too long.”

She was so fucking dead when they got home. Likely won’t walk right for days.

Barely halfway through the door, a firm grip pulled her into the room, slammed the door shut with her body, then wrapped around her throat. Her heels brought her just a bit closer to her husband’s height, brown eyes practically set ablaze. Ghost had abandoned his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his button-down, exposing the black ink on one forearm.

I should put in for a day or two off.

“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Ghost asked, low-pitched and gravelly as if he had been restraining himself for hours. He probably had been. “Must’ve been too generous. Let’s try this again.” A man on a mission, he swiftly twisted the lock on the handle and hauled her with him several steps away from the door before forcing Freyja to her knees. His touch moved to cup her jaw.

“Broke my fucking finger watching him touch you, touch what’s mine. This mouth-” His digits snatched her cheeks, making her painted lips purse with a soft whimper. “-is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your body is mine – facts you’ve apparently forgotten. Let me remind you.”

Freyja gulped helplessly when his other hand slid the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, then looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes.

“Soap-“

“I. Don’t. Care. Do it.”

Her cheeks were enflamed under her blush, but she still raised a brow at him. Again, Simon wasn’t known to be a jealous man; they were very secure in their relationship, trusting each other completely. Plus, Johnny was in a committed, loving relationship, after all. But still, watching his best friend all over her, purposefully egging him on and pushing boundaries…

Anyone would lose their patience.

Her nails, painted to match her color scheme for the evening, worked at undoing his slacks and dropping them and his underwear down enough to free his already hard member. Slacks which, by the way, were fitted perfectly to hug his ungodly figure. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight, her hole already clenching around nothing. 

As if he had read her mind, Ghost seized the back of her head and snarled, “I’m beginning to lose my patience, love.”

Suddenly he was buried down her throat, to the hilt. Tears sprang to her eyes; she moved to dig into his thighs for purchase, which earned her additional pressure at the back of her head. “No touching.”

All Freyja could do was blink up at him and hold her hands behind her back, hoping he understood the message. Thankfully, he let up and slowly drew out before easing back in, fucking her throat with soft moans and the occasional curse. Ghost groaned at the sight of his precum and her spit gathering in his blond curlies, her dark lipstick smudging on his cock, tear streaks running lines in her makeup…

She flattened her tongue, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while breathing through her nose and intermittently taking him until her nose was enshrouded in coarse hair. Even if she wasn’t getting off, and Ghost’s pretty face was hidden by his mask, the expressions in his eyes as she edged him toward his release were almost as satisfying.

“Fuck, you like that?” he questioned, hoarse and needy. “Almost like you were – hngh, shit – hoping I’d p-punish you.”

Even submissive, vulnerable on her knees before him and choking on his cock, Freyja still made him stutter and whimper. How many hours had he spent uncomfortably hard, keeping his dutiful post as their backup? Observing the near obscene show Soap had put on?

Ghost leaned his torso forward, supporting his weight against the wall with his free hand. He didn’t have to tell her he was close; even with his controlled breathing, his eyes threatening to flutter shut was a dead giveaway. Still, the head of his cock popped out of her mouth, garnering her attention again.

“How much of me can you take?”

“All of it.”

“Bloody hell…” He presented himself again, the hooded tip resting against her lips. “Lick.”

She immediately ducked under him and laid her tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick, applying soft, slow pressure to the tip again before taking him back in her mouth. Freyja picked up the speed and hummed around him, pushing (or rather, pulling) him closer and closer…

“Fucking shit – take it, take it, take it–”

His warm cum spilled down her throat, but she continued slowly guiding Ghost through his orgasm as he pulsated and huffed quietly above her. Freyja basked in the way he flinched, eyes closed as her touch bordered on overstimulating and torturous.

Satisfied and out of breath, Ghost jerked his hips away to avoid any more of her touch and offered his wife his hands. She immediately took them and was pulled to her feet effortlessly with a moment to find her balance. When he was finished tucking himself back into his trousers and fastening his belt again, Ghost slid the delicate strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder back into place, his gentle touch dragging across her skin.

Freyja was about to speak when the door rattled, someone trying to open it before they both heard a familiar accent on the other side. “Bonnie? ‘S me, open up.”

She gestured for him to stand out of sight for a moment while she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Soap in, careful not to expose her current state to others who may be watching from the party. When it was closed and secured again, Johnny took in their appearances; Freyja, clearly dazed with her hair tousled and makeup smudged, and Ghost, with his fly down, shirt untucked, and blazer tossed carelessly onto the sink.

Then, with the absolute, most shit-eating grin, said, “Ye’r welcome, Hen.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

post-s2. good omens mascot here, coping unhealthily.

This is the first proper post I'm writing since the audio breakdown, good thing I queued a POTC one last week, I suppose. Yes I slept through the entire day today, missed the theatre workshop I was supposed to attend and may or may not be listening to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square on loop. Have an update on my coping because my social life and family are both Tumblr now:

Every song is about them now. A lot were before, but now every single one. Even an old Hindi song from a 1900s Indian military movie that I have not watched, by the way. But the lyrics (thank you Google translate) are: Everybody wants a handful of the sky, everybody searches for a handful of the sky, there is a world waiting to be hugged to the chest, the moon is a fair full of stars, but this heart is still lonely. And of course that makes me think of Crowley as the starmaker. Ow.

I made the very intelligent decision to rewatch the first three episodes of season 2, knowing what the Job minisode and the Edinburgh minisode do to me. I'll be here clutching Crowley, well, hugging him close to the chest, just like that song... ah, fuck, here we go again.

I listened to you all and am drinking a lot of water, since my tear ducts were emptied yesterday and now I'm unable to cry. I also ate too much chocolate.

I searched for sad Aziracrow edits and watched them. Don't look at me. I'm in a hell of my own creation.

I used too many emotions last night and now I feel hollow and achy. Maybe I should cope with humour and write the summaries.

Or maybe that will backfire and I will be filled with horrifying levels of emotion.

I slept. A lot. Many hours. Lots sleep.

So. Well. You know. Adopted child of divorce. You were all right, this is exactly like dealing with a breakup or divorce, but much more painful.

Someone please, please, please stop me from clicking the Crowley whump tag to find fanfiction.

I remember my initial Good Omens posts. I remember calling the fandom sad, desperate, queer and masochistic, and also pointing out how you all blame Neil and then sit and make headcanons that are a hundred times worse than canon.

I was so right. Look at me now, sad, desperate, queer and masochistic, making headcanons that are a hundred times worse than canon.

Wahoo.

[newkatzkafe2023]

@lara-legomonkiekid

What if Y/N gets jealous of a girl who around Monkey King Or calls him a cutesy Nickname in public.

(Lmk Wukong) He was hanging with Mk and the gang again at Pigsy Noodle shop until he heard your voice from outside.

Monkey Queen (Y/N): Sunflower!!! 🌻

He froze no no you did not just call him that. He turned his head towards MK and the rest who were trying to hide their giggles even Pigsy was fighting off a smile.

Monkey Queen (Y/N): I know you're busy but I want to let you know. I brought more peach chips from the store. I'm gonna put him in a cabinet at home So if you want some stop by my mountain. I still have some errands to run I'll see you later love you sunflower 🌻.

And with that you ran off to the market down the street. As soon as you left, everybody burst out. Laughing hysterically to the point where some of them could even breathe. Wukong's face was so red you would think he was on fire.

Macaque: Sunflower 🌻 huh???😏😏

Sun Wukong: Ok number one shut up an number two when did you even get here?!?!?😡😡😡😡

(Nezha Reborn Wukong) He was at the workshop with Li Yunxiang help with his motorcycle. Until he heard you come in

Monkey Queen (Y/N): Fluffy you Left you toolbox at my house again!

This made him spit out the water He was drinking just now as Li awkwardly stood next to him.

Monkey Queen (Y/N): I'm gonna leave it by the door I have to go to work so I'll see you later.

You then ran off as your running late and need to catch the bus.

Li:.......um😥

(NR Wukong) Breathe a word of this to anyone and I'll kill you myself👿☠️

(MK Reborn Wukong) What was Provoking and fighting some palace guards it's from the emerald temple. He destroyed the massive peach tree.during the He was in the zone of fighting until

Monkey Queen (Y/N): Sourpatch!!! stop fighting those two little girls right now Your trashing the place!!!!!😡😡😡

Everybody in the area froze at the sound of your voice. As a female monkey with snow white Fur and Piercing navy blue Eyes glared into her husband from down below. You then stomped pass Master Tang and down the hall to calm down. Wukong was Not only disrespected but also embarrassed by you once again. That's what he gets for getting worked up over nothing.

Guards: Did she just call us little girls😟😟😟

(HIB Wukong) Since his release from the mountain prison Buddha put him in he had went to try and find you, but the children were asking a billion and one question. As he was getting more and more Irritated a soft voice called out to him

Monkey Queen (Y/N): Ah, grouchy Bun, I thought you were dead. But we both know that's impossible now isn't it😉😉😉

He froze seeing his Wife from across the Field beautiful As the day he left her, but he wasn't fooled by her gentle tone she is Furious with him and he has a lot of making it up to her to Too bad that didn't distract him from the giggling children behind him Something else he was going to have to explain😥😥😥

(Netflix Wukong) He was spending time with Lin bragging about How he recently saved the village from another demon when,

Monkey Queen (Y/N): Ok chestnut that's enough Bragging for today now come home and have dinner with me

Wukong's face lit up a bit before Muttering a yes dear and said bye to Lin trying to block out the Her giggles.

Feel Free to Reblog😇👍

[landofzero-archive]

Niki Shiina - Meal Ticket of Justice

Writer: Yuumasu

Season: Winter

(Location: CosPro Office)

Niki: ‘Su~p, Staff-san. It’s Shiina Niki from Crazy:B.

Is the deputy director here? He asked me to come see him.

Hmm, he’s in the middle of a meeting with a client? It looks like it’ll be over in ten-ish minutes?

In that case, can I wait here? I’ll be in the corner so I won’t get in the way.

It’s a~lright. He asked me to come when I have time, and I don’t have any plans today.

By the way, you wouldn’t have heard from the deputy director about what kind of business he was looking at, wouldya?

Is that so~. …… Nah, nah, I’ll just ask him directly☆

Nahaha, thanks for your concern. Please keep up the good work, Staff-san~☆

(What the heck’s goin’ on if even the staff don’t know about it either~……?

I’m not happy about being the only one called here, it’s hard to comprehend.

Seriously, I have no idea~. …… Did someone from Crazy:B do something wrong?

But if it’s that then the leader would be called……

As if. I feel like calling in Rinne-kun wouldn’t do anything.

Does that mean I’m acting as a substitute for the leader? Even if that were the case, I think HiMERU-kun and Kohaku-chan are more suitable than me.

Hm~m. If possible, it’d be great if he’d avoid talking about difficult topics~……)

Ibara: —Thank you for waiting, Shiina-shi.

Niki: Deputy director! Thanks for your hard work at the meeting.

Ibara: I apologize for the inconvenience. Let me cut right to the chase.

Please take this.

Niki: A flyer for a newly opened restaurant—I don’t think it’s something like that. Uuummmm……

“Dance Workshop”?

Ibara: Yes, this is a workshop for ES idols.

Shiina-shi, your choreography sometimes appears sloppy compared to the other members of Crazy:B.

It’s free, so please consider this a prime opportunity and take part in it!

Niki: Uwaai. I-I’ll do my best……

Ibara: Contrary to your words, you look blatantly disgusted.

Niki: Hmm. To be honest, I’m not into the idea.

A dance workshop, huh… Just thinking about it makes me hungry.

Ibara: Haah…… Well, I expected you to say that.

Not to worry. I’ve prepared a proper reward for you.

Niki: Reward……?

Ibara: Indeed. If you participate in the workshop, you’ll be provided with this “meal ticket that can be used at restaurants nationwide.”

Niki: A m-meal ticket……! I want it, gimme!

Ibara: Ah ah, I won’t give it to you for free♪

Shiina-shi, you promise to attend the workshop, right?

Niki: I promise! I promise on my meal ticket, I’ll do my best……☆

(Location: Dance Room)

(A few days later. The day of the workshop.)

Niki: Meal ticket~♪ Free food~♪ Funfufufu~n……♪

Chiaki: Hm? Shiina will also be participating?

Niki: Oh, that’s Morisawa-ku~n, isn't it!

I didn’t think I knew anyone here, so I’m relieved.

Chiaki: Me too. I always thought these workshops were mainly attended by new idols.

Niki: Same here. I was a little worried that I’d attract attention.

But if Morisawa-kun is here then it’s like a weight off my shoulders! It’s reassuring to be with you!

Chiaki: Right! Let’s encourage each other and work hard together……☆

Niki: Alright! …… Ah, it looks like the dance teacher’s here now.

Now’s the time~. I’ll do my best!

(Two hours later. After the workshop, self-study time)

Niki: That’s ho~rrible, Morisawa-kun!

I thought you were about on par with me, but you’re not that bad at all!

Chiaki: Sorry. It's clear you’re also taking part in order to improve your skills……

Niki: Now that I think about it, in √AtoZ you learned the dance early on and taught it to everyone, right?

I wouldn’t have misunderstood if I remembered properly, but I forgot about it ‘til just now.

Uuu. It’s my own fault, but I feel like I’ve been left behind by the person I’d said “Let’s reach the goal together” to at a marathon race……

Chiaki: Shiina……

I’m really sorry. As an apology, could I join you in your self-study?

Niki: Eh? No, it’s my bad for not checking.

Chiaki: No. That won’t give me peace of mind.

In the process of teaching you, I’ll be able to learn about myself. Please let me help you!

(One hour later)

Niki: 1, 2, 3~♪ …… Turn here☆

Didya see that, Morisawa-kun? I did it exactly as you taught me!

Chiaki: Great, Shiina. You’re definitely making progress!

Niki: Nahaha. It’s thanks to you. Thanks for being patient with me……☆

I mean. Sorry for asking you to stick here with me ‘til the last minute before we have to leave even though you’re not getting anything in return.

Chiaki: Don’t sweat it. A hero is someone who helps someone without hesitation if they’re in trouble. Deserting you is against my sense of justice.

Besides, I did get something in return. I was able to support your growth. This sense of accomplishment is a joy beyond compare……☆

Niki: Justice, huh~…… Well then, I’ll also follow my own justice.

Chiaki: Shiina’s justice?

Niki: Fufufu. I have a meal ticket right here! To thank you for your guidance, I’ll treat you to dinner♪

Eating after a lotta dancing is so much fun! Life is fun. This is my justice……☆

Chiaki: I see. That’s your way of thinking.

Alright,  tonight let’s celebrate your growth and enjoy a meal!

Niki: Nahaha, I’m drooling just thinking about what to eat♪

C’mon c’mon, let’s go before we get too hungry……☆

[tornadoyoungiron]

TRAINTOBER | Day 32 - Bonus - Arrival

Gordon meets his little brother, an engine that will one day be called Flying Scotsman, for the first time.

~~~

Most of the new members of his own class did not bother with Gordon. He was a faulty prototype, meant to be thrown away and discarded when his purpose was spent. 

Great Northern had once been amicable to him until Sir Gresley had told him to not get attached to him. Since then, the eldest of his younger siblings warned Banbury and the newest sibling away from him, spreading that same opinion. 

He understood why he had done so but it didn’t hurt any less.

Gordon looked up as he saw one of his younger siblings, a nervous and frightened engine entering Sir Gresley’s workshop. It was the newest engine, Serial number 1564. One that he had heard Sir Gresley praise and enthusiastically call, ‘the One’ he’d been hoping for. 

He was barely new and this engine was already in their designer's good graces. 

Gordon humphed. 

It looked like the rest of them. There outwardly seemed nothing special with this one. It was just another Pacific to him. 

Maybe there was something about him internally that Gordon could not see that made him special, Gordon reasoned. Sir Gresley was hard to impress and an engine hot off the presses hadn’t exactly shown itself as reliable or worthy. 

The engine suddenly noticed him and stared at him, frightened. Gordon realised he had been glaring at the engine and immediately softened his gaze.

“Hello,” Gordon greeted the engine with a smile and the engine glanced around nervously. “Yes, you, I’m talking to you, you’re the only other engine here in the workshop.”

“Oh, um, hello,” the engine nervously responded. “Great Northern says I’m not supposed to talk to the engine in here.”

“Rubbish,” Gordon scoffed. “I’m not going to hurt you, little brother.”

The engine’s eyes seemed to widen at his words.

“You’re my brother?” He asked and Gordon smiled at the new engine.

“I’m your eldest brother, Gordon,” Gordon introduced himself. “I am the prototype for our class.”

“I thought Great Northern was my eldest brother,” the new engine squeaked. “He told me so.”

“Well he lied to you, little brother,” Gordon humphed. “Do you have a name yet?”

The new engine stared at him before looking at his buffers.

“I haven’t earned a name yet,” the new engine muttered. 

“Ah, no matter, you’ll earn one in no time dear brother,” Gordon assured the nervous young engine and said engine looked at him hopefully.

“You think so?” He asked and Gordon puffed himself up grandly. 

“But of course! You’re were based on my design and my design is quite superb even if I do say so myself!” Gordon boasted and the new engine smiled a little.

“Sir Nigel Gresley says he has big plans for me,” the new engine murmured. “I don’t know what they are but I’m scared. Great Northern and Banbury keep making me feel bad. I think they’re jealous of me. I don’t know why though, I’m just like them. Just another engine.”

Gordon rolled his eyes. His other younger brothers had developed a certain mean streak to them which he did not like. He hoped that this one would not be the same.

“Listen to me, little brother,” Gordon proclaimed and the young engine looked up at him, his eyes wide and filled with naivety and a pure innocence. “If Sir Gresley has plans for you then that means that you will be a grand engine. You will be the best of us.”

The young engine looked unsure.

“I don’t know, I’m just… another engine,” he lamented. “I’m nothing special.”

Gordon paused. He didn’t like how this new one had such a low opinion of himself. Maybe North and Banbury had already broken this one’s spirit.

That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.

Gordon approached the new engine and gently pushed against his buffers, the new engine looked up at him scared.

“You’re my little brother, you’re special to me,” Gordon declared and the new engine searched his face before smiling at him. 

“Thank you, Mr Gordon,” the new engine gratefully smiled at him.

“It’s just Gordon, little brother,” Gordon corrected and the new engine seemed to relax slightly.

“Okay, Gordon.”

In that moment, Gordon vowed to protect this young engine and shower him with adoration.

~~~

With baby Scotsman, Traintober 2023 is over. 

Thanks for sticking with me throughout the month. We’ll be right back to the main story.

[ivorydragoness44]

Jack Frost x Reader: Cool Costume

Word Count: 415 Warnings/Notes: n/a Summary: Jack Frost cools down the temperature, letting the Reader wear the costume they initially intended for Halloween.

  October, the height of the spooky autumn season. A time of natural earthy tones, scooping and  carving plump pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns, and the hopes of cooler weather finally returning.   Honestly, with how the current weather patterns had been for the past few weeks, you were losing hope on the chance of any kind of temperature drop. Your original costume idea had since been placed back into the closet and replaced by another.   All was looking a little less fun by the change in plans until that morning. A band of rain had passed through over the night, and with it, the promise of lower temperatures for the next couple of days. Halloween was beginning to look better already.

  Frost prickled across the window pane. Pausing, you listened until you could identify exactly what the sound was.   “Jack, is that you?” You called out toward the window.   “Well, it’s certainly not the Easter Bunny,” he said, making you laugh.   Setting down the final layer to your costume, you made your way over to the window.   “Hi, Jack,” you said, opening the window.   “Hey,” he smiled, hopping into the room.   “I suppose I have you to thank for the light sweater weather?”   “You don’t have to, but: you’re welcome.”   As you giggled from his good natured joy, Jack took in your appearance. “Great costume. Is it anything I should recognize?”   “Thank you, and—probably not. Unless you binge watch tv and movies at the North Pole.”   “Ha, no. The North Pole, workshop, is way more work than play.” Sitting on the bed, he looked over and grabbed a piece of your costume. A look of utter bewilderment struck across his face before turning back to you. “Is this a…warrior costume of some kind?”   Plucking the item from his grasp, you lightly shook your head. “I really need to catch you up on some pop culture.”   “Pop?”   “Popular.”   “Ah,” he nodded slowly.   Reaching for the rest of your costume, you smiled. He never failed in bringing out a certain joy and childlike wonder.   “So…are you going to join me in the ghoulish activities tonight, or are you going to be a fly on the wall and not have a hauntingly good time with me?”   Jack smirked. “You’re really layering on the Halloween references, aren’t you?”   “Yes, I am,” you smiled cheekily, adjusting the final touches and accessories to your costume.   “All right,” he bounced off of the bed. “So, what’s your frightfully fun plan?”

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

Thank you for reading! Be sure to check out my Masterlist for more fanfictions :)

[mikathemonster]

Idk if I’m doing this right but can u write fluff of some kind with dialogue prompt #1 with Kili x fem!reader? Whatever comes to mind, if not no biggie, thanks sm!!☺️

"a ‘spark’ of an idea"

author's note: this one was actually really fun, considering i decided to use an old WIP to write this! I apologize if the pacing feels a bit rushed, I've been writing while sick with covid :( (based on this post)

Pairing: Kíli / Female Human Reader

Word Count: 1,198

summary: despite being Gandalf’s apprentice, you yourself cannot conjure any magic. but that doesn’t stop you from trying to prove yourself to a certain dwarven prince...

content warnings: fire, sparks, smoking

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

“Gandalf, we have a problem.” You said, out of breath from running to hunt down the wizard.

“And I suppose you expect my aid in this issue?” The grey wizard said, blowing smoke from his pipe. Oh, how you wished a puff of the old toby would help you. But alas, this problem was bigger than simple weed from Southfarthing.

“Well yes, that was the idea,” you huffed, sitting next to him as you tried to regain your breath and your composure. You had hoped your mentor would be a little more gracious in your current time of need.

“I know very well of your problem, dear Y/N,” he said. “But it is yours to solve just as it was yours to create.” You groaned at his wisdom. Of course he already knew what you had done, he was a wizard! All wise but ever mischievous, was he. You had learned that well from traveling with him here and there as his apprentice, his aid.

“Then can you at least lend me a branch over here?” You said, a little frustrated. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Another puff came from the old grey man as he blew terrific smoky shapes into the air. “My suggestion is simple,” he said. “Put your foot in front of the other and start walking. No problem was ever solved by laying about and whining.” Rather short than his usual pep talks, but you didn’t have the energy to pry. He must have a lot on his mind, you thought.

And that’s how you found yourself storming in the direction of the forges, intent on requesting backup to help with your plan. Backup, you thought, in the form of a certain toymaker and miner.

You searched the many workstations within Erebor’s grand forges, the heat of the halls causing a heated glow about your face as you desperately worked to seek out the dwarf with twin curled braids.

“Bofur!” You called out, running to catch up with the dwarrow who seemed like he was gathering supplies for his next projects. “Bofur, I need your help. We have a problem.”

“Ah, Y/N,” the older dwarf smiled as he saw you. Always a good day to see a friend, he thought as he stopped what he was doing. “And it’s another Monday, what’s your point?”

You drew in a breath, fiddling with your hands as you swallowed your dignity to explain the situation. “So, I was playing a game with Fíli and Kíli, and we were all taking dares from one another when Kíli dared me to perform magic in front of him.” You said.

“You can do magic?” Bofur asked. You shook your head.

“Not at all!” You said. “But I couldn’t say that in front of them, so I told Kíli that if he met me here tomorrow night, I’d conjure fireworks for him.”

“Why didn’t you just tell the truth, lass?” He said.

“Because!” You whined. “You’re all master crafters and fighters and skilled in practically everything! I wanted to have some sort of special talent.”

“Oh, come now, Y/N,” he said, frowning. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re already quite special yourself, you know?”

“You don’t have to flatter me, you know,” you said, sighing. Bofur shook his head.

“I’m serious! It takes quite a deal of strength to be able to put up with those two,” he grinned, pushing you with his elbow teasingly. “Come, we can talk more in my workshop. It’s a bit stuffy in here, eh?” You nodded silently, following him.

A few twists and turns later through the great bedrock halls led you to Bofur and Bifur’s toyshop, the shelves inside littered with works in progress and completed toys of various types. Bofur set his collection of parts down on a huge table that was covered in scrolls and blueprints before he turned back around to face you, giving you his full attention.

“Now, lass,” he said. “What do you expect me to do to help you?”

You drew a breath, knowing you were going to sound crazy. “Alright, here’s my plan.”

And the stage was set! It took all day yesterday to fully plan it out with Bofur, but you were ready. And quite excited! Gods, you just couldn’t wait to see the look on Kíli’s face when you pulled this off. Now all you needed to do was keep your cool and stick to your script, which you hoped Kíli would goad you into easily.

Soon, he was meeting you at the entrance of the Great Forges, an eager grin on his face as the lights of the fires lit both of your faces. “Y/N, you won’t hold out on me, will you?” He asked with a cheeky smile, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, of course not! How could I dare to upset you? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make a scene.” And with that, you turned away, quickly walking towards the forges, which were eerily quiet and empty tonight.

Kíli seemed to fall for your trap, raising a brow as he followed after you. “Where are we going?”

“Well you see, my magic is most powerful near fire,” you said, fibbing your ass off as you worried about how effective your plan would be. As soon as the two of you would enter the forge, you knew Bofur would set it in motion.

Kíli seemed to feel satisfied with this answer as he nodded. “I see, fireworks and fire makes sense.”

You nodded as well, glad he took it without question. And soon you both crossed the threshold, you threw your arms in the air, hoping Bofur would see the signal. It was time to begin.

“What are you doing?” Kíli asked, coming up close behind you.

You threw a playful smirk, trying your best not to give away how nervous you were. “I’m just warming up.”

“Then by all means,” he said, taking a step back to give you some space.

And with a big breath, it was time to begin. You rubbed your hands together, creating a warm friction as you kept up this little pretend of yours. You threw your hands up in the air, stretching your arms as high as they could go, and with a large crashing sound, sparks flew everywhere from a balcony high above. A curtain of glowing orange sparks fell on both sides of you, bouncing on the stone floors once or twice before going dimmer and dimmer, and eventually out.

Kíli’s jaw practically fell to the floor, his attention fully transfixed on you as he gazed at you with awestruck eyes. It was so beautiful to see, and so captivatingly shocking that he hadn’t moved the gears in his mind enough to try and figure out what was actually happening. For right above you two, hidden on a balcony, Bofur and Bifur were busy grinding metal as silently as possible to create such sparks as they flew down to where you and Kíli stood.

“By Durin himself,” Kíli said. “I should have never doubted you.”

“Oh, Kíli,” you replied. “The show isn’t over yet.”

If you enjoyed this piece, consider checking out my masterlist, requesting a fic of your own, or leaving a tip on my page <3

[i-like-words]

Checking In (MTaP)

Dusting off this ancient account to post a bit of the My Time At Portia Arlo/Builder!self ficlets that have been absolutely dumping out of me lately. seriously it's just been like. non stop writing for two weeks straight, this video game man has done unspeakable things to my brain and I love it

some lore and context: Adri was discovered frozen within a massive ruin, thawed out, reawoken after a stupid amount of years and whoops - turns out they have Trauma™ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ luckily our favorite good guy redheaded captain takes it upon himself to keep them out of trouble :)

this particular bit takes place like a week after Adri is introduced as the new Builder - they go MIA, leading Arlo and Merlin to swing by the old workshop

(As an aside, my Builder!self is non-binary. By this point no one within the canon knows this, so characters will refer to them with she/her while the narrative uses they/them, just to assuage any confusion or cw people beforehand of misgendering - it's intentional but temporary)

ANYWAY

cw for swearing and aforementioned misgendering

Arlo stepped through the gate and looked around. The yard had become quite overgrown and the workbench was strewn with stray leaves. It looked as though none of the equipment there had even been touched. There was no sign of Adri. Merlin peered over the scene and began jotting down notes.

Approaching the door to the little shack, Arlo noticed the lights were off.

"Do you suppose Adri is out for the day?" he asked.

"Mm, unlikely," Merlin replied, not looking up from her notebook. "Considering no one has really seen nor heard from her since the fireside chat. Not even the farm girl or her grandmother across the way."

Slowly, Arlo reached out and rapped on the wooden door with his knuckles. "Hello?" he called out.

Silence.

He knocked again.

"Anyone home? It's Arlo, from the Civil Corp. I'm here with Director Merlin from the Research Center. I'm sure you remember us from... before."

More silence.

"Uhh, listen. Mayor Gale asked us to check in on you, since no one has really, er, seen or heard from you in a handful of days. You... um, don't have to open the door, but give us a sign that you're alive...?"

"Though opening the door would be the preferable option," Merlin interjected.

Still no answer. Arlo chewed his lip. He wondered if maybe Adri was simply sleeping... understandable that someone who'd been reawakened after being frozen for a few hundred years would probably want to nap off that whole ordeal. But, still, as the one put in charge--self-appointed, yes, but in charge--of making sure Adri was safely acclimating to life in Portia, Arlo hoped that his first check-in with the new Builder wouldn't end with him breaking down the door.

Before he could contemplate that scenario further, said door suddenly parted, ever so slightly, from the door frame; Adri's pale face was barely visible through the open crack. Dark eyes glowered at Arlo, then at Merlin.

"There. I'm alive. Now go away," they said flatly, and with that, the door was shut once more.

Arlo stood there awkwardly, startled, but relieved he wouldn't, in fact, have to resort to property damage. At least not today. "Oh. Ah, that's... good. Um. I... we were hoping to maybe speak with you, see if there was perhaps anything you might need...?"

"What I need is for you to leave me alone," came the muffled, yet terse reply from behind the closed door. Merlin scribbled into her notebook.

"Hmm. Specimen... displaying... antisocial tendencies..."

"You're not helping," Arlo sighed to Merlin, before addressing the door again. "Uh, can we at least ask you a few questions?"

Silence.

"I promise once we're done we'll both leave you be. You have my word."

Silence.

"Do these so-called 'wellness visits' of yours always go this poorly?" Merlin asked, shouldering Arlo aside. She then knocked on the door. And hard. "Ms. Adri, while I understand you're going through a rather difficult period of adjustment, this an important matter, and neither myself nor Mr. Arnold will be vacating the premises until we can speak with you face-to-face."

Silence.

"You were saying?" asked Arlo pointedly, moving himself back in front of the door.

Merlin folded her arms indignantly. "Hmph..."

"Um... sorry about that, Adri," Arlo continued. "Just ignore what she said. Anyway, we're glad to see that you're, in fact, not dead, and it's, uh... pretty clear that you're not exactly in the mood to be social right now, which is totally fine, so we'll... just come back later."

He was about to turn to leave, when the door reopened and swung out slowly with a long creak. Adri stood there in the turnstile, squinting against the sunlight. Their clothes were disheveled, their shoulder-length hair was a tangled mess, and they had dark bags under their eyes. They looked like they hadn't gotten any sleep in days.

The Builder looked between the researcher and the Captain with intense disdain, then turned away and trudged into the dark, unlit void of the house. Merlin followed, notebook in hand. Tentatively, Arlo stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him.

There wasn't much to the little ramshackle house--four walls, a roof, and a modest wooden bed topped with moth-eaten sheets sat in the corner, nestled beneath a cracked window. The floor groaned under Arlo's boots, and he noticed some floorboards were missing. What little belongings Adri had had been unceremoniously dumped around; even the Builder's clothes that were given to them as a welcoming gift were laying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed.

Adri slumped onto the edge of the mattress, crossing their arms over their chest, shoulders hunched as if they were trying to fold into themselves.

"Make this quick," they muttered. Their gaze fell into middle distance, and their expression was blank, unfeeling.

Merlin looked up from her notes. "Yes, well," she began, leafing through some pages. "I'll be asking you a series of questions, you answer as honestly and as thoroughly as you can. Don't spare any details, even if you think they aren't important."

"Okay."

"All right... How are you feeling?"

"Terrible." The answer came out before the question had bothered to finish being asked.

Merlin blinked in mild surprise. "Erm, can you... perhaps be a little more specific? Try to refrain from single-word answers."

At this, Adri's head--and eyes--lolled back, and they heaved an irritated sigh. "Oh, my god, fine--I'm 'fucking terrible'. Is that better?"

Merlin did not look amused. She clicked her tongue. "Right. Moving on, then... Have you been experiencing any unusual physical or mental phenomena? Any short-term memory loss, disassociation, or particularly strange dreams or visions?"

"Oh, yeah... I've definitely been having strange visions lately."

Merlin perked up at this. "Have you? Can you describe these visions?"

"Let's see: some blue-haired bozo in dumb glasses shows up and asks me a bunch of stupid ass questions," Adri replied in a flat monotone, their expression unchanging. "I'm having one right now, in fact."

It took a great deal of effort from Arlo to stifle a chuckle. He was always so used to Merlin being the dry and sarcastic one; it was kind of a nice change of pace watching her get a taste of her own medicine. He could see the researcher's jaw jut forward angrily as she wrote something into her notebook before snapping it shut.

"Ms. Adri," she said, the patience dropping from her voice. She removed her goggles and eyed her interviewee as a parent does when lecturing an unruly child. "I am trying to help you. The very least you could do is take this seriously."

"'Help'...?"

In an instant, Adri's cold, indifferent expression changed. Their eyebrows shot up, disappearing into a thick curtain of dark hair. Merlin and Arlo both were taken aback as they suddenly began laughing--a short, bitter bark of a laugh.

"You're trying to 'help' me?" they sneered, rising from the bed and slowly walking forward. Their fists were clenched so hard they were trembling. "Just like you fucking 'helped' me by dragging my half-dead body back into consciousness, in a completely foreign world, separating me from everything I've ever known and loved by HUNDREDS OF YEARS!? THAT kind of 'help'...?!"

Adri was stopped short by a long arm extending in front of them, shielding Merlin, and they glared daggers up at its owner.

"That's enough," Arlo said, his thick brows furrowed. "I don't want to use force on you, but I will if I have to." Beyond his outstretched arm, Merlin was bracing herself behind her notebook and was staring at Adri with fear and anger in her eyes. Adri scowled.

"Tch. Unbelievable... Treated like a damned experiment and I'm expected to be grateful," they mumbled, looking away. Arlo caught a glimpse of a tear sliding down their face, glinting in the dim light of the window. They crawled back onto the bed and curled up into a ball, facing away from their visitors. "Just leave me alone already."

Arlo sighed, running a hand through his tousled red hair. He looked to Merlin. "We should probably go," he said, quietly. Merlin opened her mouth to interject, but, to Arlo's great relief, decided against it.

"...Very well."

They both turned to leave and Arlo opened the door to allow Merlin through. She strode outside, making a beeline for the front gate without another word, no doubt mentally cursing to herself for having to go back to the Research Center strapped for new data. Once she was far enough away, Arlo looked over his shoulder at the small, vulnerable figure laying there, alone, in the dark. Guilt tugged at the inside of his chest.

Adri heard the front door close with a soft click. A brief pause, and then:

"I know she isn't the best at dealing with people, but you mustn't blame Merlin," Arlo said quietly, his gaze fixed on the wood grain of the door. "It wasn't her idea to bring you back. It was mine."

Silence.

"I was the one who found you in the ice," he explained. "And I was the one who insisted that we help you. If you resent me for that, then that's okay. I accept that. You're well within your right to be angry, and... if you're going to be angry at anyone, you can be angry at me."

More silence. Arlo placed his hand on the door's handle. Just as he opened his mouth to apologize for the trouble and make his leave, he was cut off by the nearly inaudible--but unmistakable--sound of sniffling.

"Why did you have to bring me back...?" Adri whimpered, their voice thick and cracking. "Why didn't you just leave me there...?"

Arlo froze. The statement hung heavily like a yoke on his shoulders, pinning him to the spot. He turned and looked over at Adri helplessly as their body shuddered with silent sobs, unsure of what to do. He wanted so badly to comfort them, but he didn't know if he could... or if he even should. Shit. He knew today's visit probably wouldn't go smoothly, but... he had not been prepared for this.

"I... I felt like I had to," he said, crestfallen. Hesitantly, he walked over and sat at the foot of the bed, allowing as much space between himself and Adri as he could manage. "But... I am sorry. Hate me all you want, but please know that I only ever wanted to give you a chance."

"I never asked for your help," Adri mumbled into their pillow. "I never asked for any of this."

"I know." Arlo rubbed at the back of his neck as his gaze fell to the dusty wooden floor.

Another sniffle. "But... I don't hate you."

Arlo looked up again.

"You don't...?" he asked gently, mild surprise in his voice.

"No," Adri responded, heaving a shaky sigh. "I don't even hate that blue-haired bozo, or really, anybody here. I understand why you went out of your way to help me, but I was probably better off being frozen..."

"What makes you say that?"

"Under any other circumstances I'd be happy to have a second chance," Adri said, wiping tears away from their eyes. "I can't even say that my old life was super fucking great anyway, but... it was mine. Knowing that everything that made my life what it was is just... gone, it--" They trailed off, their voice wavering before letting out another sob.

Arlo said nothing, and he sat there, solemnly, as Adri grieved. After a few minutes, they went quiet again.

"Sorry..." they said, sniffling.

"What for...?"

"For making everyone worry, I guess..." Adri rolled over and sat upright. Their eyes were puffy and red, and their cheeks and nose were shiny with tears and mucus. "After Gale introduced me during the meeting thing, everyone was just so... nice. It was a lot. I didn't know how to deal with that, so I've just been holing up in here all week and feeling sorry for myself... I'm sure they all must think I'm an asshole."

"You're not an arsehole; you're going through a lot," said Arlo. "More than anyone in town could possibly know or even imagine. Yes, Gale is a bit of a worrywort, that's just how he is, but I doubt he's expecting you to seamlessly integrate into society overnight."

"Maybe... but he sure seems to believe that I can just pick up a hammer and magically become a Builder..."

Ah, yes. That. Gale had suggested, in the interest of keeping their origins a secret, that Adri be introduced to the townsfolk as a new Builder to avoid any unnecessary panic or conflict. If word of the truth got out, it could spell all sorts of trouble, not just for Adri, but for Portia, perhaps even for all of the Free Cities. 

"I understand that it's probably a lot to ask of you, especially when you're already dealing with so much," Arlo said. "But, unfortunately, it's a necessary evil, to keep you safe. At least for now."

Adri sighed, running a hand through their long curls. "I know, I know... I'm just having a hard time understanding why you're going through the trouble of doing all of... this in the first place." They gestured vaguely around at the house. "What do you get out of protecting me?"

Arlo blinked, looking visibly confused. "What... do you mean...?"

Adri gave him an incredulous look. "Seriously...? C'mon, man. There are obviously people out there who'd stand to benefit a great deal by me being here, whether, like, academically or monetarily or whatever. ...So what's stopping you from just handing me over to some science lab? Or the government? Why even concern yourselves at all with what happens to me? What am I to you?"

They folded their arms over their knees and looked sullenly out the cracked pane of the window. The cynicism in their voice had left Arlo stunned. He stared, his expression wavering between shock and disbelief before it finally settled on pity.

"You're someone who deserves to live," he said, his voice saddened. "Even if you... believe otherwise." 

Adri sighed again, heavily, their gaze still fixed out the window. Silhouetted by the light outside, their face appeared even more tired and weary than before.

"I'm just some random idiot you found in the ice," they mumbled into their knees, hugging them tighter. "You can tell Gale I'll play along with the Builder shit eventually. Right now, I... just want to be left alone."

Arlo nodded; he knew a hint when he heard one. "Okay," he said, patiently, standing up from the bed, and he turned to leave. Boots thudded across the creaky floor, stopping just before Arlo reached the doorway. He looked over his shoulder.

"Would you... be all right with me coming back tomorrow? To check in on you?" he asked cautiously. "If you'd rather I not, then I understand."

Adri quietly considered this for a moment.

"Yeah... okay."

The Captain gave a confirmatory nod. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said, gripping the door's handle. After a beat, he added, "and, uh, I'll make sure not to let the blue-haired bozo tag along this time."

At this, the faintest of smirks flashed across Adri's face as they let out an amused chuff, the closest thing to a genuine laugh Arlo had yet heard from them--and he was more than happy with that. He smiled, said goodbye, and left.

He went to sleep that night feeling... strangely optimistic.

[steeltraptrainer]

Something feels different. Something feels so very different. More tangible. The blood-drenched air of Yharnam filling their lungs to the brim.

"Ah, you're awake. Are you two alright?" Djura is sitting on the floor of the tower, midway through taking his Stake Driver apart.

"As much as we can be, I think." Ferro breathes. "Something is different, but... Dist if I know what."

"Try to keep an eye on that. Yharnam has its way of taking its pound of flesh." Djura taps away at his knee. "If you yearn for the blood, do find Eileen."

"I don't think it's that." Giacomo frowns. "Everything feels more tangible. Less... dreamy?" That makes Djura's small motions stop.

"Less dreamy, you say?" He takes a breath. "You might be getting more tethered here, then. You'll need to hurry if you still want to go home." He puts down the weapon in his grip. "Talk to the old man. He knows more than he lets on."

---

Gehrman feels so tired. The two newest Hunters are too young for this. Far too young. And he can feel Flora's grasp on them grow tighter by the minute. Every step they take to end the cries of Mergo brings them into the dream more. He carefully wheels himself out of the Workshop, looks over the dreamscape. At the bottom of the stairs, the Doll is sitting with books in her lap, carefully sounding out the words. He can barely see the contents from where he sits, up above. The pages are very colorful, brighter than anything he has ever seen. Likely a children's book. At the Doll's feet, the Messengers collect and crowd, listening intently. It's... nice. Domestic. A hint that she is in fact more than what he likes to pretend she is. More than a sum of his failures.

"Gehrman?" He turns his head a bit, sees the two new Hunters in the back of the workshop. "We... may need help."

"Is that so?" He tilts his head a bit. "Very well then, tell me about the issue."

"This entire place, Yharnam... It feels more tangible." The elder of the two sounds chagrined as he speaks. "We need to get out. We can't get stuck here."

"... Ah." He has an idea what might be happening. "Help me back inside. One of you will need to help me get a book from the shelves. These old bones are not what they used to be." He would bring them the Sunrise again. It might be the last and least he could do for them.

---

In an abstract sense, Ferro and Giacomo know that they have to find a Great One to end it. To finish the nightmare enveloping Yharnam. They need two of them. Rom, and Mergo. The book that Gehrman has them get from the shelf can only be called a book in the most abstract sense. It's a ledger. A ledger filled with notes and papers.

"There is something you could do to end it all. You would need a siderite edge." Ferro's gaze wanders to his scythe. "Yes, exactly like the one you yourself carry. Siderite can cut dreams. There is, however, no guarantee it will work how you want it to." Tired old eyes in a sunken face. "It might send you home. It might also tear you from the Hunter's Dream, and leave you in Yharnam dreamless. In danger."

"So we are fucked." Giacomo's hands bunch into fists. "Great. Fuck. Okay. So. How do we make sure Yharnam is less... That."

"You would have to end the Healing Church's greatest shame for that."

"Then we do that. Bit by bit, until we are done." Ferro says, voice more resolute than he feels. "Step by step. What is the next thing we could do?"

"Hm... You have found a chalice, yes?" Gehrman hums in thought. "Then you have to set out for Byrgenwerth. You know the adage. Seek for Rom. She will lead the way."

"Then we do that."

"May you have a fruitful hunt, then. Take care."

---

"Hello Miss Doll." The Doll looks up from the book. At her feet, the Messengers groan in discontent. They want to hear more of the book. "What are you doing?"

"Reading to the little ones. They like to listen." Her lips tug into a smile. "It is a fun book. I hope to one day be able to see one of these Pokémon from your home. I find myself rather partial to Shuppet. They are sweet."

"Maybe you can. That'd be nice." Giacomo smiles at her. He looks tired. "I think they might flock to you."

"We'll find a way to get you over, Miss Doll."

"Then I will look forward to your efforts, you two." She tilts her head a bit. "Is there anything you want?"

"Just wanted to check in. We've got a job, so we 'll be back!" She watches them leave. And after a moment, she picks the book back up. She knows Gehrman is sitting at the edge of the workshop, listening. And so she reads just a little louder. He, too, deserves some solace and happiness.

"The little Applin wanted to have a party with her friends. But where could she hold it? After all, her friends were Water Types. And so she started thinking..."

---

"We're going to be having a fine time of it here." Ferro twirls his scythe a bit. "But we can do this. To Byrgenwerth we go?"

"Yeah, we will." Giacomo nods, cracks his knuckles. And then, at last... that familiar fuzziness.

T h e y

w a k e

u p

[thedizzydinosaur]

March 24 Dance: hands, lead/follow, pattens.

"Are you sure about this?" Ethari scanned the pattens that the young man had pushed into his hands, scanning over the simple, but elegant design of the horn cuffs, render in seay to follow but still exquisite details.

"Very." The young skywing elf wrung his hands in what had to be nervousness. "She's my world, and, well, I.. "

"You want the best for her." Ethari smiled softly at the boy, and oh, he was just a boy, no older than 18 perhaps?"

Ah, he was that young once, dancing around his feelings over a certain someone who was currently chasing some guard recruits around the forest.

"So, do you want to get started on this? My schedule is pretty clear this afternoon, and i doubt you want to keep your sweet heart waiting..."

-

The boy, as it turned out, was a pretty good student.

He was attentive, absorbing every bit of information Ethari sent his way as he led him step by step through the prosses of silver-smithing.

First was heating up the bar of metal slightly, then feeding it through a set of rollers to flatten it to a nice even thickness

"Now we need to trace the patten on with a scribe"

The two halves of the first cuff were traced out onto the metal, along with some careful markings to show where the raised, petal like patten was to be added, before ethari took over again to cut the sides out.

"It's not that I don't trust you, lad, but the shears are sharp, and even I've nearly lost fingers to them."

Ethari didn't miss the way the boy's hands almost instantly vanished into his coat pockets when he said that.

Funny thing was that the boys hands seemed to have a fuzzy edge to them. Like they were slightly behind frosted glass.

Ethari shook his head.

A trick of the light.

-

They worked right into the evening, resulting in the completion of rough shapes of two horn cuffs, ready for refinement and decorating, before Ethari had to down tools to start dinner

The boy, who's name seemed to consistently slip Ethari’s mind, was staying just outside the village, as the inn was full.

Ethari did extend the offer to stay over in the guest room but was met with a polite refusal.

He left for his camp just before Runaan returned, cussing out a particularly mouthy recruit who had the gall to call him old.

"You are only 42, love," Ethari hummed, pulling his beloved, grumpy husband into a slow dance in the kitchen as they waited for dinner to finish cooking. "Hardly old."

"40." Runaan corrected with a grumble.

"I refuse to let you miss out on two years, darling~" Ethari crooned, lifting Runaan up into a twirl.

"And you said that you had nothing scheduled this afternoon." Runaan was smiling now. "So who was your supprise walk in?"

"One half of a pair of lovers" Ethari replied. "Looking for the perfect gift for his heart"

"Oh?"

"Yes. A pair of custom horn cuffs."

The timer at the stove dinged, and the two of them broke from there dance.

-

The skwing lad was back bright and early the next day.

Callum, as he reminded Ethari with a wry smile, picked up the art of engraving quickly, and it did not take long for him to start gushing over the young lady who held his heart in her hands.

Bold, sweet, brave, tender and sassy. You'd think she'd been sent by the moon herself the way callum spoke of her.

He was so in love, and that love was translated into each and every line engraved as the day went on.

Ethari had to wonder if the protective brambles carefully coiled under the moon lilies and roses meant anything in particular.

-

There was muttering in the village that a ghost had been spotted slinking around the village boundaries.

No one would mention the name of exactly who it was, but the village guards were getting twitchy, which was never a good sign.

Callum assured Ethari that he'd be OK as he slipped away into the growing twilight, precious cargo stashed away safely in his bag.

Ethari still watched on from his workshops doors, eyes following the skywing picked his way through the market and out past the boundary stones, just to make sure.

-

Callum dipped though the underbrush, keeping one ear out for the smallest sounds of village guards, assassins (trainee or otherwise) or anyone else that might try to follow him as he left the village, and made for the meeting point.

The adoraburr meadow was dark as dusk settled in, aside for the lightning bugs that drifted on the breeze.

With a sigh, he finally let the illustration he'd been living under for the last couple of days.

He flexed all 5 fingers as his skin regained its pink hew and the horns melted away into moon dust.

"Say, stranger, have I seen you before"

Callum sighed before turning and smiling up at the beautiful moon nymph that was sitting on a nearby bolder, the cheesiest smile in existence on her face.

"I'm not sure if I've ever met a goddess before." Callum zinged back as Rayla hopped down from her perch to greet him with a hug.

"I got you something." Callum returned the hug in full force.

"And I got you something ~"

"Dare I ask?"

Rayla grinned, and scooted out of his grip.

"Not telling~" she sung "not yet, at least"

Callum rolled his eyes just a little. He grabbed his bag, and started to follow her out of the meadow.

"Your uncles are doing well, by the way." He told her as they disappeared into the treeline. "But I noticed a 'no unattended Jr assassins' sign next to the door?

"Oh... yeh.... that might be my fault...."

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: We're having loads of fun this week -Danny Words: 2,148 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Champion' -by Fall Out Boy

XXII: The Nonsense Has Escalated

She refuses to be who Helen was, the cause of countless demises while hiding behind fortified barriers. That's not who Ara Jackson is. She's the solution, not the problem.

Ara's looking at Piper's dagger for directions, and it shows her the outside of what seems to be an old workshop. The blade obliges to her requests easily, almost like it recognizes its original owner. It takes her no time to find a motorcycle and she takes it. If the owner's lucky, she won't even damage it beyond repair.

Ara drives through the city following her compass, it guides her effortlessly because there is only one thing she wants right now and that's finding Nico. Eventually, she locates the old workshop. Ara walks up to the entrance and breaks in. 

It takes her just a couple of minutes to get to the bottom, which of course is way bigger than it looks on the outside. Ara is overwhelmed by all the cages and machinery surrounding her.

"...this spectacle will be even better," one of the giant twins is saying. "The Romans always wanted bread and circuses—food and entertainment! As we destroy their city, I will offer them both. Behold, a sample!"

Percy talks, which sends a wave of relief through Ara's body. "Wonder bread?"

"Magnificent, isn't it? You can keep that loaf. I plan on distributing millions to the people of Rome as I obliterate them."

"Wonder bread is good," the other twin says. "Though the Romans should dance for it."

Ara comes out right behind the giants, and Percy's the first to spot her. There is a split second of recognition on his face before he looks back at the giants and resumes his conversation.

"Maybe you should bring our other friends here. You know, spectacular deaths... the more the merrier, right?"

Ara looks down at the giant's feet—if she can even call them that—and sees Nico lying there. She notices the terrible shape he's in, almost pure bones and skin, way too similar to the old mummy they used to keep in the Big House's attic. Seeing him like this brings her no satisfaction.

They won't kill these guys without a god present, but at least she can get Nico out, and that would take away the leverage the giants have on them, and they might have a chance to run. Ara holds Almighty, still as a compass, and waits.

"Hmm... No. It's really too late to change the choreography. But never fear. The circuses will be marvelous! Ah... not the modern sort of circus, mind you. That would require clowns, and I hate clowns."

"Everyone hates clowns," his brother points out. "Even other clowns hate clowns."

"Exactly. But we have much better entertainment planned! The three of you will die in agony, up above, where all the gods and mortals can watch. But that's just the opening ceremony! In the old days, games went on for days or weeks. Our spectacle—the destruction of Rome—will go on for one full month until Gaea awakens."

"Wait," Jason intervenes. "One month, and Gaea wakes up?"

"Yes, yes. Something about August First being the best date to destroy all humanity. Not important! In her infinite wisdom, the Earth Mother has agreed that Rome can be destroyed first, slowly and spectacularly. It's only fitting!"

"So... You're Gaea's warm-up act," Percy continues.

"This is no warm-up, demigod! We'll release wild animals and monsters into the streets. Our special effects department will produce fires and earthquakes. Sinkholes and volcanoes will appear randomly out of nowhere! Ghosts will run rampant."

"The ghost thing won't work—Our focus groups say it won't pull ratings."

"Doubters! This hypogeum can make anything work!"

One of the twins moves to a control board providing Ara with a blind spot. She sneaks in closer, making sure the other twin isn't looking. Piper and Jason see her then, so they do their best to keep the giants's focus on them. Ara seizes Nico's jacket and almost whimpers at how easily she can drag him back, he's too malnourished.

Percy's relief is written all over his face and he turns to the others. "I'm getting tired of this guy's shirt."

"Combat time?" Piper seizes her cornucopia.

"I hate Wonder bread," Jason grumbles.

Ara tries to make Nico come back to his senses. "C'mon Ghost King..." she rummages through her bag and pulls out her bottle of nectar. She tilts the boy's face up and feeds him. "Now's not the time to take your title seriously!"

Nico's eyes open though it takes them a moment to focus. Once he sees it's her, his expression turns into a scowl. "You."

"Happy to see you too," she whispers. "Can you stand?"

Nico tries to get up and slips, so Ara places his arm around her shoulders and carries him to safety. "You'll hide until it's safe to go, got it?"

Nico's reply is a weak grumble, he must be extremely weak if he's not trying to fight her orders. Ara's about to leave when she hears growling, she looks back and finds two leopards slowly approaching.

She shields Nico's body with her own. "Piper, we could use some help here!"

The girl looks back and sees the felines. "Going!"

Her sister runs in their direction and points the cornucopia to the opposite side, a large piece of warm roasted meat flies off and distracts the leopards successfully.

"I miss Seymour," Ara sighs.

"Go help Jason and Percy, I'll watch after Nico."

"Take this," Ara gives her Katroptis back. "Works just as good as that horn you carry."

Piper takes the weapon and keeps feeding Nico small pieces of ambrosia so he can get back on his feet. Ara joins the fight. "Sorry I'm late, Hedge and I were having a great time talking shit about you."

Jason snorts. "Sorry to spoil the fun."

"Don't worry about it," she turns Almighty into a sword. "This will be fun too."

"Hydra! Hydra!" Percy shouts, running towards them.

"Where did that come from?" Ara yelps.

"I set it free!"

"WHAT?"

"The fireworks!"

Ara knows what he's trying to tell her and together they reach the device. 

"Can you—"

"Yes, just make sure it comes to us!" She interrupts him.

Percy gets the Hydra to approach and Ara blows it up with the fireworks, it causes such a mess that they end up blowing up more than expected. They bury one of the twins under rubble.

Ara winces. "That's exactly why I'm not allowed to use explosives..."

Percy frowns. "You design bombs."

"That's different."

"Guys, the controls!" Jason shouts.

"Go, I got your back!" Percy tells her.

Ara runs over and looks at the buttons and levers, but they're not labeled in a way she can understand, she elbows Percy. "Takes too long, just break it!"

Percy cuts the whole thing in half, and a shower of sparks comes out of it. The twin still standing reaches them and Ara stands in front of Percy, turning her sword into a shield and stopping the giant's spear from impaling them.

Jason rushes over after checking up on Piper and Nico. The three of them stand together, but there's not much they can do. The other giant crawls out from under the debris and picks up his weapon, Ara turns Almighty back into a sword.

"What now?"

"We won't give up," Jason states out loud so the giants hear. "We'll cut you into pieces like Jupiter did to Saturn."

"That's right," Percy adds heatedly. "You're both dead. I don't care if we have a god on our side or not."

"Well, that's a shame. I'd hate to think I made a special trip for nothing." There, descending on a small platform, is Baccus. Mr D's Roman version. "Really, Ephialtes, killing demigods is one thing. But using leopards for your spectacle? That's over the line."

"This—this is impossible. D-D—"

"It's Bacchus, actually, my old friend. And of course it's possible. Someone told me there was a party going on."

"You—you gods are doomed! Be gone, in the name of Gaea!"

"Hmm..." The god walks forward staring at everything with disdain. "Tacky. Cheap. Boring. And this... Tacky, cheap, and boring. Honestly, Ephialtes. You have no sense of style."

"STYLE? I have mountains of style. I define style. I—I—"

"My brother oozes style!"

"Thank you!"

"Have you two gotten shorter?" Baccus squints at the pair.

"Oh, that's low. I'm quite tall enough to destroy you, Bacchus! You gods, always hiding behind your mortal heroes, trusting the fate of Olympus to the likes of these."

"Lord Bacchus," Jason shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Are we going to kill these giants or what?"

"Well, I certainly hope so. Please, carry on."

"Didn't you come here to help?" Percy asks.

"Oh, I appreciated the sacrifice at sea. A whole ship full of Diet Coke. Very nice. Although I would've preferred Diet Pepsi."

"And six million in gold and jewels," Percy grumbles.

"Yes, although with demigod parties of five or more the gratuity is included, so that wasn't necessary."

"What?"

"Never mind, At any rate, you got my attention. I'm here. Now I need to see if you're worthy of my help. Go ahead. Battle. If I'm impressed, I'll jump in for the grand finale."

"That's great," Ara's voice is full of sarcasm. "Please do tell us what kind of grand finale you wish to see."

"Ah, good question... Perhaps you need inspiration! The stage hasn't been properly set. You call this a spectacle, Ephialtes? Let me show you how it's done."

They get taken to the center stage of the Colosseum. Ara hadn't been paying attention as she drove around the city, but she does remember seeing this place near the workshop she'd snuck into.

The floor is fixed, and the bleachers too. There is a roof over them to make it comfortable for the people in attendance. There is a box right in the best spot where Baccus, Piper, and Nico are seated, ready to watch the show.

"Next time, Birdy, keep your mouth shut," Percy mutters.

"I'd take the advice if it came from anyone else, but since it's you, I can't take it seriously."

"This is a proper show!" Bacchus speaks from his box, sounding like he's got a microphone on him.

"You're just going to sit there?" Percy demands.

"The demigod is right!" Ephialtes screams. "Fight us yourself, coward! Um, without the demigods."

"Juno says she's assembled a worthy crew of demigods," Baccus smirks. "Show me. Entertain me, heroes of Olympus. Give me a reason to do more. Being a god has its privileges."

The girl locks her eyes with Percy and manages a mocking smile. "Well, if we survive this, I promise to listen more often."

Percy doesn't smile. "Yeah, right."

"Let's get this over with," Jason stands ready.

The giants grab mountains of plaster and toss them over. They jump into the same trench. 

"I'll take Otis again!" Jason shouts. "Or do you want him this time?"

"Which one is Otis?" Ara asks keeping her head down.

"No, no—We attack together," Percy replies. "Otis first, because he's weaker. Take him out quickly and move to Ephialtes. Bronze and gold together—maybe that'll keep them from re-forming a little longer."

"Why not?" Jason manages his own very ironic grin. "But Ephialtes isn't going to stand there and wait while we kill his brother. Unless—"

"Good wind today," Percy points out. "And there're some water pipes running under the arena."

They look at Ara, she sighs and turns Almighty into a bow. "Yeah, fine. My weapon is gold and bronze anyway, I count for two of you."

Jason laughs and Percy grins, it's the first smile he's shown her this entire day, and it does cheer her up a little bit.

"On three?" Jason offers.

"Why wait?" Percy responds.

They run out driven by mad frustration. Percy makes the water pipes explode and Jason tosses Ephialtes backwards giving Ara enough time to get to him.

"Hey, Otis!" Percy screams. "The Nutcracker bites!"

Ara gets to where Ephialtes is and aims an arrow at him. "Hello, cutie! We haven't been properly introduced!"

"Ara Jackson!" He shrieks, struggling to get out from the pool of wet plaster and debris.

"Not the first time I've got giants screaming my name—always an ego booster," Ara shoots and the arrow lands on the giant's left eye. She turns Almighty back into a sword. "I'm such a shitty archer..."

"Argh!" Ephialtes tries to get up, but his snake foot seems to be stuck on something.

"I was pointing at your nostril," she continues while dodging his attacks. "I've learned most monsters have weird soft spots, so the crazier you aim for the more effective it is—like this!"

She cuts the foot that's stuck and Ephialtes shrieks with rage. Her skin glows teal and she opens her palm over the running water making it move faster, not allowing Ephialtes's foot to reform. The giant uses both hands and tries to smack her on the head with his spear. Ara ducks and rolls, she doesn't look at what Jason and Percy are doing, they'll let her know when it's time to retreat.

"You may have ruined my spectacle, but Gaea will still destroy your world!" Ephialtes screeches.

"If it happens, you won't be here to see it."

On queue, the large shadow of the Argo II makes itself present above their heads, and Ara lets out a chortle of relief.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh

[marvelsfavoriteuncle]

Is this the place that I've been dreaming of? - Marvel AU

Pairing: JJ & Elizabeth Stark, Howard & JJ, Rick & Luna, Ethan & Liane

Established niece & nephew: Tony & JJ

Extra characters: Pepper, Maria Hill, The Avengers, The Young Avengers and etc

Note: May 29th, happy birthday to iron man himself Tony Stark lol

———

A blonde walked up the sets of the tower, as if the light was shining through the window and the sky was clear as day. She entered the elevator wearing an elegant black vest with dress pants to match, her hair was lush and glimpses of blonde lights peaking through, bouncing off her shoulders. She held her suit jacket in hand.

JARVIS blinked on his bright blue light in the elevator wings, as if announcing her presence. It seemed like JARVIS glitched for a moment then reloaded to the mainframe, working in an orderly fashion like always.

“Good evening, Ms Underwood.” He said, in his trademark British accent.

“Heh, good evening, JARVIS.” She replied, with a light smile, “What’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“Well the young ones are in the main area, Ms Potts is out shopping as always. And one of your kids was supposed to go to a briefing but it was cancelled, so now he’s in his workshop.”

“As for my work wife?”

“Ah yes, Ms Hill is at a meeting for SHIELD and will be seen later. Dr Banner is on his way back home after a trip to the grocery store. How was your day, ma’am?”

“Decent enough, thanks for asking. However I will need to push back a little dinner with Mr. Smith about prices for his wife’s new jewelry shop.”

“And the kids?”

“Open the doors and find out.”

“You got some humor, Ms. Wood.”

—

As the doors opened to the main area, Jen walked out only to be treated to the sounds of yelling and screaming.

“Oh dear..” She muttered, squeezing her eyes shut then reopening them.

Her gaze fell on Rei and Rick who were standing in front of the shout shouting over one another over the stupidest thing.

“Yo, Thing 1 Thing 2, where’s the fire?” She asked, looking between them with her hands on her hips.

“Ask your grandson.” Rick remarked, narrowing his eyes that flashed an unusual tone.

“Oh real mature, Banner.” Rei exclaimed, rolling his eyes and pointed, “He decided to go ahead with the presentation for our meeting and now they went along with his stupid ideas.”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Our presentation was supposed to be about telescopes like technology. But he decided to be all father-like and make it seem all child-friendly! It’s supposed to be for adults dimwit.”

“Oh I’m sorry that some of us rather not want a proud product that won’t blow up in their faces!”

“Again, it’s for adults not children!”

Jen held up her hand and curled it into fist waving it around, as she raised her tone a bit causing both young adults to pause. Doesn’t matter what age, kids tend to stop whatever they’re doing if a parent-like figure is near.

“Wow, surprise that still works…” Julie muttered then clear her throat and turned to face them, “First off, your project seems very promising. And secondly, you can reschedule this presentation to rematch your ideas.”

“Yeah sure, like that would work.” Rei murmured crossing his arms.

“We called them and they told us they were busy working, saying our stuff is in review.” Rick added.

Jen thought for a long second and flipped on the phone, pressing a button as the line rang quick.

She wondered and waited, as she spoke, “Hello, yes this is Mrs. Stark…or Ms.Woods, whichever you prefer dolly. Two young men wanted to reschedule for another chance at their presentation, I understand your concerns and revisions but—you do realize their work can bring you a lot grand success and rewards, right?”

Another a few more minutes of speaking on the phone, she handed the phone to both Rick and Rei, telling them to behavior. But most importantly, compromise on a decision. With that she moved on, pressing a kiss to Ava her first granddaughter and well behaved who was heading to band practice, right after dance class.

She headed to the kitchen, kicking off her heels and sled into across the floor finding crackers in the back shelf along with peanut butter. She hummed in delight at the sight before her eyes. Liane and Luna were still on the kitchen table with their eyes focused on watching Season 3 of Bridgerton.

She snorted and grinned as she asked, “Is the show good girls?”

Liane looks up, “Hell yeah! Anthony is a good husband and..”

Luna cut her softly, “Shhh don’t spoil anything! Someone might be listening..and hi, JJ.”

The blonde smiled, “Hi Luna. Well you girls, enjoy yourself.”

———-

She turned around opening the fridge, sneaking around behind a set of beer bottles, to find a small set of cupcakes she baked beforehand waiting for her arrival. She was surprised no one took a handful of them yet, nonetheless she sighed in relief.

She knew the rest of the cupcakes and the sheet cake she’d ordered to arrive later on were for the young heroes anyway.

Without a second to ponder this matter, Jennie took the first step of grabbing a cupcake and a candle, stuffing a lighter in her pocket and headed downstairs to the workshop.

She slid open the door, making sure to hush JARVIS before he spoil her mini surprise, trying to make little to none noise possible as she entered the room. She flicked the lighter as a tiny flame covered the candle that was placed on the cupcake as she started to humming the song ‘Happy Birthday’ to her first silly goose.

Tony turned around, removing his headset he was currently wearing at the sound of a certain blonde humming and singing softly that silly little song for May 29th. A smile lip up his face at the sight of his aunt, who looks damn younger than she should be, holding up a picture perfect cupcake and a candle placed right in the center.

He chuckled. Hell, he giggled and snorted.

Many years later and his aunt is still keeping up the same routine of a little candle placed on a cupcake. His favorite color frosting too for added warmth and comfort.

“Make a wish and blow out the candle.” She said, softly moving the candle near his face.

Tony closed his eyes making a joke about this is rather funny as he wished on a nice evening at the tower, without nothing blowing up in his face for the 3rd time this week. Hey, the man was getting older and wanted something simpler this year! He blew out the candle and grinned.

“What’d you wish for?” She asked, removing the candle and handing the cupcake over to her nephew.

Tony took a large bite, licking his lips and hummed, “Can’t tell ya. And thank you for the little treat.”

“It’s your birthday, of course I was gonna do something for you. I can’t believe, you’ve grown up and became someone kind and supportive. I did a decent job raising you.”

“You did a good job raising me, auntie. I don’t say it enough. Dad well…not so much. But you’re pretty great. So, am i getting a big bonus surprise tonight or what?”

“I did plan on having a movie night with the family, have some drinks, ordering pizza and a huge cake.”

“What, no confetti cannons or fireworks with my name in the sky?”

“I love you but I’m not going to explode your ego. You can do anything other day of the week, mister.”

Tony just laughed at that as he hugged his mother figure. She gave him a tight squeeze and a kiss on the forehead.

——

The rest of the evening went as follows, the heroes, agents and welcomed guests all gathered around the common room to watch movies, discuss and eat pizza.

It was rather nice to not have a grand slam party on Tony’s birthday for once. Especially since his birthday fell on a Wednesday, instead of a weekend like it always does. But knowing her kid, he would try to throw himself a party this weekend anyway and she wasn’t going to stop him.

Afterwards, everyone stood around the kitchen as a large sheet cake was brought out in front of Tony. Everyone sang and chanted as he blew out his candles, allowing for the young heroes to get their hands on the cake first before the older ones did.

They definitely enjoyed it more than expected. Especially when Rick found cupcakes in the freezer just sitting there and brought it as Bruce rolled his eyes. Natasha hushed the doctor and brought him to the dance floor with Maria Hill following behind them, as Natasha dragged her and Steve into the fun. Ethan and Liane were already there chatting and dancing with drinks in hand.

Luna and Rochelle were trying to finish the movie playing on the large screen tv, meanwhile Rei and the others were playing video games next door.

Jennie stood against a wall chuckling at the sight of it all.

“So, how are you holding up?”

She turned around to find Pepper holding a glass of champagne and smiling softly, handing the blonde one.

“Honestly not so bad.” She responded with a smile, taking a gulp of the champagne.

“Glad to see you smiling too.” Pepper added.

“Yeah, how was your shopping spree?”

‘Oh amazing! I got the best deals.”

Pepper went on and on about the things she brought, how she loved having the opportunity to get the day off to do so and etc. Jennie just smiled and nodded at her friend.

Yeah, today wasn’t so bad in her opinion.

~~~

~~~~~~

Ahh that’s all folks! And yup that’s auntie JJ, I hope you like her. Might even do a Q&A week for her 😉

Anyways let me know what you guys think!

Tags: Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @ask-starrk @rickb-chaos @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @cherrysft @luna-d-marsh

[primusfortuna]

Mel ✦ Beginning of a Bond (05)

[01] [02] [03] [04] [XX] [06] [07]

“Out of the Key”

Emma: Mel, could you come out of the key?

After Volks-san asked me to arrange a place to speak with Mel, I was trying to call him from inside the key.

Emma: (No answer... I'm sure he can hear me, though.)

(Mel appears)

Mel: ......What? Something you need from me?—ah!

Mel: ...You're here too, Volks?

Volks: Yes. I asked Emma to summon you for me.

Mel: You did, for me? O-Oh really? ....So what, you want my opinion on something again?

Volks: No, I wanted to thank you for your assistance with coordinating that outfit the other day.

Volks: Mel, this is for you.

Mel: Hm...? Uh, isn't that the garbage gem you showed us before? I don't want it.

Mel: You're gonna force something on me that's not just worthless, but garbage too? This is far beyond nonsense now, it's total harassment.

Volks: Hehe, you misunderstand.

Volks: As a jewel appraiser, I can assure you: this gemstone is an extremely valuable jewel.

Mel: ...Hmph! Trying to fool me? Not happening. If this garbage gem's a jewel, then the whole world must be full of jewels too.

Mel: Ah-ah! I shouldn't have even bothered coming out of my key if it was just for this.

Emma: (It seems like he's in better spirits, a little bit... but he's more combative than usual.)

Volks: Mel, I have a proposal.

Volks: Would you agree to a competition with me?

Mel: ...Hah? Competition? What made you bring that up?

Volks: Please, give me a chance to explain first.

Volks: I'd like for you to polish this uncut gem into a proper jewel, using your own hands.

Mel: !?

Volks: When you are done polishing it―if it even remotely changes your values, then I win. If nothing happens, you win.

Volks: What do you say?

Mel: Uh, I-I'm not sure―

Volks: Ah, of course, as far as polishing is concerned―it will be deemed acceptable as long as it holds a shape. This is your first time, after all.

Mel: Er, I'm just confused. There's no reason for me to agree to this in the first place.

Volks: That is a fair reaction. This does demand quite a bit of your time and energy.

Volks: Therefore, I'll present a few conditions that may motivate you.

Mel: Conditions...?

Volks: In the event that you win, I will accept your argument and consider all uncut gems present at the scene to be garbage.

Volks: They'll be deemed worthless, just as you say. No processing will be done.

Mel: ......

Emma: (Volks-san...?)

Mel: ...Are you sure? Is it fine for a jewel appraiser to be saying that?

Volks: Well, this is a competition. Between your values and mine.

Mel: ...If you're that serious, then I'll accept. You're not going to back out and say "Actually nevermind" now right?

Volks: Of course not. I'm looking forward to seeing you make full use of your knowledge and insight to tackle this challenge.

Under Volks-san's guidance, Mel immediately got to work polishing the uncut gemstone.

Mel: Polishing just one gem? Piece of cake. I'll make you regret underestimating me as an amateur.

Volks: Heh, the thrill is all mine.

Mel: ...Huh? I'm polishing this gem plenty, but I can't smooth it down at all.

Mel: Hey, Volks! This sanding tool is faulty, isn't it?

Volk: Oh? But I acquired it just recently.

Mel: Eh? Then maybe I've got to use more force―

(Clatter!)

Mel: Egh!?

Emma: (The tool broke...!?)

Mel: A-All from this drab, worthless gem...! Agh, this is so annoying!

Mel: Fine, I'll just smash it with a hammer first―

Emma: Mel!? That'll crack the inside too...!

Volks: It's all right, Emma. For now, let's just watch over his work.

Emma: ...O-Okay. I understand.

Mel: Okay, first I'll clamp the gem into the vise... There. Get ready, you drab gem! Hup!!

(Thud!)

Mel: ...No way!?

Mel: I can't believe the hammer couldn't crack it either... There's not even a scratch!

Undeterred, Mel went on to test out every lapidary tool he could find in the workshop.

And still, that raw gemstone wouldn't budge one bit.

Volks: Mel, I take it you need a hint?

Mel: N-No, I don't!

Mel: I know this isn't a normal rock, so I've just gotta polish it in a way that's not normal either!

Mel: I swear! I'll get this thing all polished up!!

Mel shouts at the top of his lungs, while bending his upper body further back than ever.

Emma: (Rather than motivated, he seems really worked up over this.)

Emma: (Anyway, I'll keep watching over him...!)

← Prev ❖ Next →

[TL Notes]

"If this garbage gem's a jewel, then the whole world must be full of jewels too."

I'm not sure that I conveyed this line properly: he's supposed to be distinguishing raw/uncut gemstones from polished gemstones.

[hungerpunch]

yuki/your choice + knife hehehegegeye

why youuuu--!! ,,ԾㅂԾ,, this got so long for no reason

yuki is confused as all hell when he heaves open the reinforced door of his atelier—

("it's a hovel," pierre says.

"no," yuki says, "it's an atelier. a workshop!"

pierre looks around the cramped space and then drags the toe of his combat boot through the dirt, literal dirt, on the floor pointedly. "yuki," he says, the thin rim of his eyewear changing from a soft white to a sassy orange around his left eye, "it's a fucking shed.")

—to see a short, kinda lanky… guy. just some guy. with an unkempt beard and wild hair that is not contained at all by a very grimy headband.

they look human—only human, that is, from what yuki can see. and are entirely without armor. no mask or helmet of any kind. a dark green hoodie and cargo shorts adorn a slight, soft build rather than the kevlar kits and polyethylene plates that yuki sees on his high-end clients and the battle vests full of cheap screwback steel studs and spikes on everybody else.

he knows he's gaping but that's because he's wondering if this person is lost. they did knock using the assigned passcode, though…

"can i come in?" the person—yuki's appointment log says seb—asks, wincing. "it's loud out here."

yuki is so acclimated to the airships coming and going from the nearby docks that he doesn't notice them anymore. he also lives his life in noise-control earwear, though.

"yeah," he says quickly, remembering himself. he steps back and ushers seb inside. "sorry, come in, come in."

"no problem," seb says, moving past him. yuki's space is so small that there's not even a suggestion that there is anywhere to go besides the work table, so that's where seb gravitates as yuki shuts the door and does up all his locks: biometric, button electronic, and a good ole thumbturn deadbolt to boot. when he turns around, seb is pouring over his admittedly chaotic array of tools. yuki calls it organized mess.

"seb," they introduce themselves casually as they look, hands still tucked in the safety of their hoodie pouch. "i'm your two o'clock."

"yeah," yuki says again, "i was expecting you." well. expecting a client. not necessarily expecting this. "i'm yuki."

(pierre says yuki is foolish for giving his government name to clients. in return, yuki says pierre is overbearing.)

"yes," seb says, spinning to face him with a bright smile. "the best of the best, i've heard." before yuki can blush or deflect or even avert eye contact, seb is continuing: "shall we get started?"

yuki flourishes a hand toward the single stool adjacent to his work table. "let's."

seb sits primly on the stool and yuki slides into his usual chair, outfitted with every mod he could think of for ergonomic comfort. being an only human himself, he started noticing his body's aches and pains more and more as his book of business grew and his days got longer.

once seated, he removes a fresh set of black nitrile gloves from their sterile packaging where seb can see him and rolls them on. as he's fussing with getting them perfectly comfortable around each of his fingers, he asks, "may i ask your pronouns, seb?"

seb beams. "you may!" he says cheerily. "he/him, please. and you?"

yuki inclines his head. "same." gloves in place, he extracts a small, square sheet of sani from its case of fluid disinfectant for seb's skin before he realizes he doesn't know what he needs yet. clearing his throat, he makes a show of using the sani to wipe down the metal tray he'll use to keep selected tools for whatever they do—tweezers, pivots, files, pliers, lasers; you name it, yuki has it. "what can i do for you today?"

"ah," seb starts and only now withdraws a hand from his hoodie pouch. he moves to hold it under the bright, white light of yuki's attending shadowless lamp.

not only human, then.

"got a nasty jam," seb says, voice a wince as he tries to flex the robotic digits of his hand. the plates that hover protectively over the mechanical innards click against each other unhappily. "i get them now and then, but this time nothing i tried fixed it. and i really can't afford a new one."

yuki slides his loupe glasses down from their mount on his forehead and leans forward to take a close look. the extreme magnification helps him spot signs of stress but what he really needs is to get inside the hand.

"i'll have to open it up," he says, apologetic. he can turn off touch sensation so that seb won't be in pain, but it still won't be comfortable. he's already piling tools onto his tray; precision demagnetizer, calipers, one two three four five screwdrivers, a very tiny golden hammer… and both his utility cutter and his jeweler’s bench knife.

the bench knife is a friendly shape, yuki thinks, but the blade still gleams like a threat under the shadowless lamp. "let me turn off haptics first," yuki says as he holds up the demagnetizer, yanking it open wider so it's big enough for seb's hand to pass through, "that way, nothing hurts."

seb's smile doesn't waver. "nah," he says. "don't worry. i want to feel it."

[not-a-seagull]

PRISON CELL – 09: “Carpentry Operations” 

Background: None.

Music: BGM 022

Eiden: Merciful God of Klein, we pray to you that you may forgive our sins with love and affection…

? ?: Finally, we ask that you may return us to the righteous path, with these two hands we pray.

Quincy: ……

Eiden: Finally, we ask you that you may return us to the righteous path…

Eiden: (I can’t believe I’m in prison with Quincy and a bunch of other inmates… praying…)

? ?: Well done, everyone. You may open your eyes.

Eiden: (Oh, and guess who’s leading the prayers…)

Background: None (white.)

Olivine: Wash your hands, let go of the sins of the past, and reaffirm the pious hearts of the God of Klein has bestowed upon us all, His greatest gift.

Background: Prison Workshop. (closed)

Eiden: (Olivine could make a sewer feel sacred… I’ve never seen so many smiles around this place…)

Olivine: Next, I would like to invite each of you to come up and collect a wood block and a set of tools.

Olivine: I will then show you how to make a simple handicraft, which we will bring to the temple to offer to the God of Klein so as to receive His blessing.

***

Background: Prison Workshop. (closed)

Music: BGM 023. (soft sounds of tools working the wood.)

Eiden: (Edmond sure works fast— by pressuring the prison to allow the church to help with rehabilitation, he was able to get all the inmates to take part in a carpentry activity.)

Quincy: Here’s yours.

Eiden: Ah, thanks… Hmm, but there doesn’t seem to be anything special about this wood…

Quincy: Uh-huh, it’s just regular wood.

Eiden: So where are they hiding the you-know-what—

Quincy: Shh, keep quiet.

Music: None.

The two halt their conversation and glace along the long work table.

Walking in their directions, hands held neatly behind his back, the Warden closely observes the inmates at work.

Eiden: (It’s just like Edmond said… He’s the only one observing.)

Eiden: (Better focus on the task at hand for now… I’ll discuss the rest with Quincy later…)

Quincy: ……

The forest guardian, head bowed, deftly works his cutting tool across the wood block, carving out a model boat far more intricate than the other inmates.

Eiden: (I know he’s good at this kind of thing, but I can’t help feeling a little envious of his skills…)

Eiden: (But I won’t be beaten! I used to make model toys all the time! There wasn’t a better designer around for miles—)

(More sounds of tools softly working the wood)

Warden: ……

***

Background: Prison Cafeteria.

Music: BGM 023

Eiden: (Looks like it’s back to business as usual… it wasn’t easy getting Olivine here— i just hope our plan worked…)

Eiden: (But I have to admit, it was fun trying something new for a change… Olivine even complimented our work—)

Music: None.

Warden: Attention, everyone. There has been a slight change to the afternoon’s work schedule.

The Warden pauses and turns his gaze on Quincy and Eiden.

Warden: You, and you. Come with me to the carpentry workshop after lunch.

Quincy and Eiden: …!

Eiden: … Yes, sir!

Eiden: (Hook, line, and sinker!)

Eiden: (Hehe, it’s no surprise the Warden selected us for carpentry duty after all the praise we got for our carvings this morning…)

***

Background: None.

Music: None. (sounds of footsteps)

As they’d hoped, Quincy and Eiden have been selected for so-called carpentry duty.

Walking single file behind the Warden with the other select inmates, they make their way to the workshop.

Background: Prison Workshop.

Music: None. (sound of door opening)

The long work table sits littered with drawings, tools, and wood blocks— an almost identical setup to earlier in the day.

Warden: Here you will find the necessary materials, and over here are carving instructions. You may use any of the provided tools as you see fit.

Warden: Today’s assignment is a tough one, so be sure to put your best foot forward.

Eiden: Lemme see… Whoa, this looks super complicated!

The instructions show an intricately complex design that appears to be some sort of pendant.

Eiden: (If we can really make these, I bet they’ll sell like hotcakes…)

Eiden: (But these wood blocks look identical to the ones we used this morning—)

Quincy: … It’s faint, but I sense essence radiating from the wood.

Eiden: Essence?

With the Warden surveilling the other end of the room, Quincy sits beside Eiden, an ordinary-looking wood block in his hand.

Eiden: Ah, I see what you mean… It feels as if it’s coated with a layer of essence…

Quincy: It’s a camouflage spell.

Quincy cautiously checks his surroundings, then squeezes the wood block in his fist, channeling his essence in order to reverse the spell—

In his palm sits an ordinary wood block no longer. Instead, there lies a smooth, fragrant, densely-grained piece of lumber as black as night.

Eiden: Is that… crowcave?

Quincy: Yes.

Eiden: Edmond was right! the Warden really is using the prison as an illegal crowcave processing plant!

Eiden: We better meet up with him after we’re done here to discuss our next move.

Quincy: ……

Offering no reply, the stoic forest guardian slips the crowcave block—so fast you wouldn’t notice it—into his sleeve and gets back to work.

End of chapter.

Sources:

Background Images: NU Carnival wiki.

Transcript: did it myself, with the help of this video.

Last chapter: Prison Cell 08 | Next chapter: Prison Cell 10

[deanosaur666]

The Woodchipper 3

"My son. My darling son. I have shed so many tears for you. I will not rest until I have avenged your unjust death."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What an incredible story," Barnaby said, "I've never heard of ghosts operating a woodchipper before."

"Yes," Ozias said, cutting his steak with a knife, "I'll admit it was a first for me."

"Ozzy's always the first one I call." Betty said, "He's so reliable. I haven't called 911 in years. I know Ozzy can handle anything."

Barnaby smiled. "My sister has told me so many stories about you, Ozbek. I'm happy to finally have gotten a chance to meet you."

"Ah, thank you. I hope I didn't disappoint."

Barnaby laughed. "You're an interesting guy, Ozbek."

Clementine politely sipped tea from a baby-sized teacup.

Barnaby considered Ozias. "I must ask, though. Why the mask? It seems like everyone knows who you really are, anyways."

Ozias paused in thought. "When I put on the mask, I become the Night Disassembler. Only the Night Disassembler can do these things."

"Ah," Barnaby nodded. "Very interesting."

Betty stood up from the table. "I must practice Clementine's speech. Today's a big day."

Ozzy was back in his workshop, carefully dissecting a fish. He had put each of its organs in its own little jar. His mind wandered. Barnaby was a beautiful and charming creature. What did he say he did for work? If only Ozzy could disassemble him. He had beautiful eyes. Perhaps he had a beautiful heart and and skull and lungs and–

The fish's eye slipped out of Ozzy's tweezers, and rolled onto the floor.

"Damn it."

He reached down to find it, but it had rolled off somewhere.

The phone rang.

"Oh, Ozzy!" Betty's voice called from the other end.

"What's happened?"

"Someone kidnapped Barnaby! They were wearing the mask of the Night Disassembler! Wearing your mask, Ozzy!"

"My mask?"

"I know it couldn't have been you, Ozzy! I know you have a pure heart! Someone must have disguised themself as you!"

"I'll find him." Ozzy put down the phone.

"If I had taken Barnaby," Ozzy picked up the fish eye, "where would I take him?" He stared into the fish eye. "Why, I'd invite him into my home. I'd serve him dinner. I'd treat him nicely. Maybe then I could convince him to let me… well… my house really is a mess right now. I should really clean it up."

Ozzy opened the door from his workshop to the living room. The roar of a woodchipper nearly deafened him.

A huge woodchipper stood in the middle of his living room. A figure wearing the mask of the Night Disassmbler carried Barnaby, bound and gagged, over his shoulder, ready to feed him into the machine.

Ozzy jumped at the machine with his screwdriver, and reduced it into a pile of parts.

The figure dropped Barnaby on the floor, and then began to laugh.

"Who are you?"

The figure removed the mask.

He was a massive man. His arms and legs were as thick as tree trunks. His sharp teeth gleamed in his huge grin. His eyes were fiery and piercing. His brow was contorted in an expression of hate.

"I am Dagon Dirk." He sneered. "You killed my beloved son, Night Disassembler. For that crime, I will shred you in the same woodchipper you shredded him in."

Ozzy lunged at Dagon. Dagon reached into a pocket and pulled out a huge sheet, covering his body like a curtain. Barnaby tore through the sheet and landed on the ground. Where was Dagon? His eyes darted around the room. The man was gone. How could such a huge man just disappear?

A small screw rolled out the front door. But Ozzy didn't notice.

He turned to Barnaby, still bound and gagged. Why, he could take Barnaby into his workshop and disassemble him this afternoon. Barnaby couldn't object in this state. No. He would just untie and ungag him.

Betty Blake stood at the podium, sweating.

"Well," she said, "uh, today we're cutting the ribbon for this new school my daughter Clementine helped create. It's for impoverished children, you know. Uh, I'm just going to read the speech Clementine wrote for this event…"

Out from the crowd, a small toddler toddled. He approached the podium.

"Oh," Betty looked at him, "where are your parents, little one?"

The toddler pulled out a remote and pressed a large red button. The roaring sound of a woodchipper emerged from behind the school.

Crash! Crunch! A giant woodchipper rolled through the school on massive treads. Giant mechanical crane arms pulled out pillars and fed them into its gaping maw. The crowd screamed in terror.

The toddler cackled and pulled off his mask. The huge form of Dagon Dirk appeared behind the disguise. He turned to the cameraman recording the event.

"Night Disassembler! You child murdering bastard! The woodchippers hunger and thirst! They will not be sated until they feast on your flesh and blood!" And then Dagon pulled out a sheet and vanished.

Ozzy watched the events unfolding on his television. "That's not good."

"Oh God." Barnaby said. "Betty and Clementine."

Ozias threw open the closet. The mask sneered down at him. "It seems you can't do anything without me."

"Shut up." Ozzy said. "It's time to get to work."

"What?" Barnaby said.

Ozzy just shook his head.

Betty's leg was trapped under a piece of rubble. The giant woodchipper roared louder and louder as it approached her. Clementine pulled at Betty, trying to free her.

"Oh Clementine!" Betty cried. "Leave me! Save yourself! The world needs you!"

Betty turned and saw the machine, almost on top of her. And then it collapsed into pieces.

The Night Disassembler emerged from the mess. He pulled the piece of rubble off of Betty.

"Are you all right, Betty?"

"Oh Ozzy," Betty cried, "we put so much of our souls into building that school. You must stop this terrible man before he destroys even more!"

"Ozbek," Barnaby emerged from the pieces behind him, "I found this. It must have been hidden inside the giant woodchipper." He handed Ozzy a note.

An address was written on the note.

A woodchipper roared in the middle of the playground. A conveyor belt slowly pushed a pile of sleeping puppies towards its mouth. A small dog was tied to a post, barking and yelping, just barely unable to reach the puppies.

Just before the puppies reached the mouth of the machine, the contraption exploded into pieces. Ozzy pulled the puppies from the pile. They were unharmed. He untied the small dog from the post.

"You're ok. It's ok." Ozzy petted the dog. Dagon was nowhere to be seen. Besides the dogs, the park seemed to be completely empty.

A car door slammed in the parking lot. Barnaby and Betty had arrived.

"Is this the place?" Betty yelled.

"How peculiar." Ozzy said.

"You fool!" The small dog pulled off its disguise, and Dagon emerged, towering over Ozzy.

Before Ozzy could react, Dagon bound him tightly in rope.

Barnaby rushed towards him. "Stop!"

Dagon turned towards him and grinned. His head crashed into Barnaby's, throwing Barnaby into the ground. Barnaby was dazed.

"Next time," Dagon laughed, "DON'T use your head." He carried Ozzy into a helicopter that was inconspicuously parked nearby.

"Barnaby!" Betty arrived at her brother's side. The helicopter flew off into the air.

Barnaby groaned. "We have to stop him, before Ozbek is nothing but giblets."

Barnaby and Betty arrived at the abandoned factory. The helicopter was parked just outside.

The noise of a roaring woodchipper could be heard from outside.

Ozzy was tied to a conveyor belt, slowly approaching the huge woodchipper.

Barnaby jumped onto the conveyor belt.

"Don't worry Ozbek, I'll get you out of this."

"Wait!" A voice called from nearby.

Barnaby turned and saw another Night Disassembler tied to another conveyor belt, running parallel to this one.

"It's a trick!" The second Ozzy called. "That's Dagon in disguise! I'm the real Night Disassambler!"

Barnaby froze. There was only time to untie one of them before the woodchipper shredded the other one. His eyes darted between the two figures, looking for some small difference. But they were exactly the same.

He turned to the first Night Disassembler beneath him.

"I trust you will make the right choice," the first one said, "Barnaby."

Barnaby untied the first Night Disassemble, and then pulled him from the conveyor belt, just as the other fell into the woodchipper.

Barnaby held Ozzy steady. "Are you all right?"

Ozzy laughed. "You fool!" He pulled off his mask. Dagon towered over Barnaby. "Not only is the Night Disassembler dead, but at the hand of his foolish friends, too!" He cackled.

Barnaby sank to his knees.

"No!" Betty cried.

"The blood of my darling son has been avenged." Dagon's voice was quiet. "Justice has been served. The woodchippers will terrorize your town no more."

There was a clanking noise. The woodchipper fell into pieces. Ozzy emerged from the tangle of metal. His clothes were torn. His mask was cracked. But he stood.

"How?" Dagon yelled. "That's impossible! Even I couldn't escape from those bonds!"

"It doesn't matter how tightly you bind me," Ozzy said, "I can disassemble anything and everything. And you're next."

"Not this time!" Dagon yelled. He jumped into his helicopter. "We'll fight again, Night Disassembler!" The helicopter lifted off the ground. "And again and again! Until you're shredded down to nothingness! Until my son is avenged!"

"He's getting away!" Betty yelled.

Ozzy leaned down and picked up a loose screw.

He smiled wryly.