#pretty sure someone just pulled the fire alarm. all good here

[passivenovember]

thinking real hard about Billy and Steve finding each other years after they've settled into themselves.

Billy's gone to therapy and he lives in a little house on the shoreline. Steve makes it to California. Doesn't have the six nuggets, yet. He's working insane hours at a job that isn't very lucrative, but he never had to sell his soul to his old man--

So. Point is. They're happy. Content, almost.

And then they find each other.

--

Steve's burning a pot of water when the phone rings.

It's like a knife through the air. A thorn in his side, pain and annoyance ramping up to an 11 as he yanks the receiver from the wall. "Yeah, now's not a great time," He says, because the goddamn smoke alarm's gonna start wailing any second now, and Steve's neighbor is real trigger-happy when it comes to alerting the fire department. "Look, I'll call you--"

"--Why answer the phone?"

Steve would know Billy's voice anywhere, the rough and tumble drag of someone who used to live fast and hard but doesn't, anymore. "I," Steve says, "I don't--"

"--It's like. Why answer the phone if it's not a good time to talk?"

"I don't like being impolite."

Billy hums, smoke and lightning on the end of the line. "So, you weren't waiting for me to call?"

"No," Steve says. But he was. Has been since high school and all the weird, boring, disheartening years that followed until Billy appeared at the dive bar on Saturday. Like a vision. An angel.

"Damn. And here I was, taking a full 72 hours to figure out what I should say," Billy tells him.

Steve can hear a smile.

Aches to taste it, but-- "That's kinda lame, Hargrove."

"So what?"

"So. You're kinda lame, I guess."

Billy laughs at him, then, high and bright. It shoots confetti into Steve's kitchen, the curling tendrils nearly catching on fire as Steve comes back to himself. He pulls the pan of water and dumps it into the sink, killing the flame on the stove.

"Yeah, I'm a disaster. Maxine tells me all the time," Billy says, "It's just. How weird, y'know?"

"What? You?"

"No, you," Billy tells him, chuckling again. "Fell outta the sky, or something. Into a shitty dive bar."

"So did you--"

"--Fell outta my dreams."

"So did you," Steve says, and his stomach twists. Tumbles. Washing-machine guts still soiled with the bloody red spots of a decade-long crush.

"Huh. You're kinda forward, Harrington."

Steve shrugs, face burning. "Long as I'm not as lame as you are."

"Dude, I didn't say you weren't lame."

"Sure, you didn't."

Billy's next laugh Steve feels in his gut, heat pooling behind the thatch of curly down at his pelvis. "Still such a bitch, pretty boy."

"I'm just being honest. We aren't getting any younger, I'm not really interested in playing it cool, anymore."

Something rustles as Billy shifts his weight, "You were cool, once?"

"Ha-ha."

"I don't wanna play it cool, either," Billy tells him, as serious as a heart attack, "Look, can I be honest? You mind?"

Steve nods and then remembers Billy can't see him. "Go ahead."

"I can't stop thinking about you."

Steve peers through the kitchen window, trying to imagine Billy somewhere on the edge of town with sunlight in his hair. Smoking in bed, naked gold until the duvet pulls him under hips first.

"Harrington, I need to see you again."

"Need is kind of dramatic."

"Maybe I'm feeling dramatic."

"Thought this was honesty hour, Hargrove?"

"It is. Honestly? I wanna kiss you," Billy tells him. "At midnight. In the pouring rain because I was too chicken-shit to do it after our first date."

Steve focuses on not swallowing his tongue. Damn near fails. "Was that a date?"

"No, it was bigger. It was the stars aligning, the start of--"

"--God, you are feeling dramatic."

"When can I see you?"

"I dunno," Steve says, fiddling with the lip of the sink, "When are we expecting rain?"

"Not sure."

Steve can hear his smile. Aches to sink into the softness. "I need a window to commit."

"Tonight. I'll make it rain."

Steve snorts, light as air. "You're crazy."

"I've had ten years to plan for this, Steve."

"Alright, lemme--" Steve pads over to the refrigerator, peering at his Kittens and Firefighters calendar. May is covered in birthdays, vacations, late nights at work, and roll-over plans from April, all hacked into the cardstock in striking red.

Steve groans and flips to June. "--Can you still make it rain in a month?"

"A month," Billy demands, "Fuck. You're hot shit but I didn't think--"

"--I have a full-time job. And friends who want to hang out when I'm not at work, but since I use all my energy at work I cancel on them, and things get moved around and--"

"--You can't make an exception for the guy who wants to eat you out?"

The pages of the calendar flutter, May settling heavy in the room. Steve swallows and his throat clicks. "Uh. My friends--"

"--Aren't gonna eat you out."

"They would. If I asked them to, at least one of them would."

"I'm not really loving that idea, pretty boy," Billy says, teasing. "What about over a lunch break?"

"You want to eat my ass over a lunch break?" Steve snorts, "I'm not a hooker."

"What's wrong with--"

"--I'm not," Steve says, "And even if I was, I'm not cheap. You couldn't afford the hour, and we'd need more than that, anyway."

"What about a sleep over?"

"A sleepover?" Steve says, turning from the refrigerator. "Like, where I come over to your house and stay until the morning?"

"Or I come over to yours, yeah."

"But--"

"Actually, let's do yours. Maxine's place is getting fumigated, so she and Lucas are staying in the guest house."

"You have a guest house?" Steve doesn't remember mention of that during their first date, but. He was distracted.

Billy laughs, "Bet I could afford your hour, pretty boy."

"I thought," Steve says, twirling the phone cord around his hand, "In high school, I remember you telling Becky Gordes that you don't do sleepovers."

"I'm gay."

"Okay, but what about Eddie Munson? The whole school thought you were fucking him, did he ever sleep--"

"--No, my dad would've killed both of us," Billy tells him, and. Something in his voice makes Steve's blood run cold. Makes him believe it.

So he shifts gears, "But. Don't you have work tomorrow?"

"Who said anything about a sleepover tonight," Billy says. Steve imagines the look on his face. Shit-eating grin bright and sharp and beautiful as always. "Unless you want me to come over tonight?"

"I never said that."

"I can work wherever I want. I don't have to go in at all, if I don't want to."

Steve pads over to his junk drawer, digging around for a red pen. "What does Saturday look like for you?" He bites the cap off, holding it like a straw in the curl of his tongue.

Billy laughs, "I thought you said you weren't free until next month?"

Steve chews on the cap for a moment, pen shaking over the cardstock surface of his calendar. He imagines Billy like he was that night. Different but exactly the same. Charming and soft in a way that only comes from the toil of regeneration. Years and years shedding skin.

He'd been funny and smart. Quick wittted.

Sweet. Like cotton fuckin' candy.

Steve remembers not wanting the date to end, not believing that the universe would give him Billy with no strings attached and laying awake that night, hoping Billy would call, and that they'd get their chance, and now--

"Shit. What the fuck am I doing?" Steve asks, but it comes out garbled and messy and wrong. Comes out sounding like, she whale the food ham ding dong.

Billy laughs at him, again, anyway. "What?"

Steve spits the pen cap onto the counter. "You really want to eat me out tonight?"

"Damn--"

"--Because. I was too fucking stupid to realize what was happening between us in high school. Or. What was happening to me when I saw you in high school, and this is important to me," Steve says in a rush. Fuck being subtle, right? "We're not getting any younger. And I haven't slept with anyone for a long time, much less someone who I've wanted for as long as I can remember, so if you're going to come over here and fuck me--"

"Or talk," Billy says gently. "We could talk more. Get to know each other."

Steve listens to the static on the other end of the line.

"I want to get to know you again, Steve," Billy says.

And Steve cracks. Like a bowl in the microwave, curdling under pressure and heat. "Alright, just. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"For what?"

"My address," Steve says, leaning against the sink, "I want to get to know you, too."

"Tonight," Billy asks, digging around for something.

"Tonight," Steve says. "What the hell."

"Great."

"You've got something to write with?"

"Yeah," Billy says, sounding like he's barely holding it together. "Yeah, just. Whenever you're ready."

--

That night, after, just as Steve falls asleep in Billy's arms--

It rains.

[catcrumb]

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 1

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Tension, not much else, maybe some angst??

Ordon Village on the cusp of winter was truly a sight to behold. The trees bare and the ground covered in frost in the early morning, fog rolling in from the surrounding forest. You could hear the birds chirping in the first hours of the day, being a nice, calming alarm clock for you, a nice change to your phone’s blaring alarm.

Stretching your arms out, you yawn. Today was pretty important, as you have a meeting with Rusl and the chain with what your next steps will be. You weren’t exactly looking forward to it, not wanting to end this domestic little vacation you got to have, but it was necessary. Nothing stays peaceful in Hyrule. 

Before you had the chance to rub the sleep out of your eyes, you could hear Wind banging on your door.

“Wakey-wakey sleepyhead! Wild made breakfast!” and before you had the chance to respond, much less actually get out of bed, Wind barges in and grabs your hand, pulling you along. You somehow managed to grab your old hoodie on the way out, not wanting to freeze outside of the warm blankets Twilight gave you. Ironically enough, it was the zelda hoodie that your best friend got you, one of those hoodies that were meant to look like Link’s hat as the hood. The group teased you a lot about it.

You were listening to Wind’s rambling as you were being dragged into Twilight’s kitchen, already hearing quiet talking amongst the boys. The kitchen smelled amazing. 

“Oh my god Wild what did you make, it smells SO fucking good.” you awed.

He rolled his eyes in amusement, “Just some toast with eggs over rice. I also tried making a new sauce to put over the eggs, so let me know what you think,” he said, sliding a plate of food towards you.

You took a bite and moaned, “Wild it’s official, you’re my favorite.” you mumbled, mouth full of food.

You hear a couple ‘hey’s!’ in the background, but you ignore them, just smiling at Wild who scratches his head in embarrassment, but gives you a smile in return.

You finish off your breakfast quickly, washing it down with a mug of warm honey milk, Sky’s homemade beverage that you’ve come to enjoy a lot. With a dash of some sweetened spice, it's the perfect drink to warm you up.

~

With all of your stomach’s full and satiated, you make your way to Rusl’s cottage towards the edge of Ordon Village. The cottage is quaint, decorated with small lanterns to commemorate the coming winter holidays. Rusl is carving a piece of wood on his porch and waves at your lot once you come closer, ushering you inside. The inside was cozy, a fire crackling in the fireplace warming the living room, a warm soup being heated on the stove and some fresh bread in the oven. 

You all sit down at his dining table, all curious and/or worried on what your next steps will be and whether or not there has been any news on the Shadow’s movements.

“I’m sure you all are anxious to hear about the Shadow’s activity, but there was something more important I needed to bring up first.” Rusl said, making eye contact with each of you, but his eyes stopped at you.

Time nodded at him, encouraging him to continue.

“We all know that our guide here isn’t from this Hyrule, much less any of yours. That being said, Ashei had sent me a letter a few days ago sending the typical update that she does every couple months, but this letter was… different, so to speak. Among the resistance and the Hylian research team there has been a discovery, or rather, a rediscovery.” Rusl paused.

The air was thick, tense with anxiety and stress.

“What is it Rusl? Is someone in trouble?” Twilight asks, putting a hand on his shoulder for reassurance.

Rusl shakes his head.

“No. For now at least.”

He takes a breath.

“They seem to have found another mirror. A twilight mirror possibly, not clear. But that’s not the part I brought you here for.”

Rusl then fixes his eyes right onto you, causing the rest of the group to turn their gaze onto you, one by one.

“They think it can bring you home, Y/n.”

₊˚✩⊹

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Posidon, Zeus, and Hades is force to watch over void kitten while void mama getting more plush toys for their baby

How would they be when taking care of the smol bean?

-It was flattering but also terrifying when you asked the three brothers to watch over your baby.

-You wanted to do some shopping, wanting to get some toys to surprise your baby with, but you needed to leave it with someone, as her father wasn’t available as he was giving a lecture.

-You told Zeus that your baby was well behaved and to just give her some whipped cream and a sunny spot to take a nap and that you would be back in about 2 hours.

-Seeing the tiny pure black kitten with large black eyes, looking so much like you, only smaller, more innocent looking, your baby really was too cute.

-However, they quickly learned your baby was very well behaved… with you- as you didn’t let her get away with any shenanigans until she learned to control her powers.

-As soon as you left, they turned back, wanting to get your baby to go to sleep as quickly as possible, just so that way they could relax for a bit, only to find your baby gone.

-Hades grabbed his brother’s shoulders, inhaling deeply, “Don’t panic- it’s fine. Just get the can of whipped cream and she’ll come right out.”

-Zeus waved the can around, shaking it, hoping she would respond to the sound, but when there was no change in the large meeting room that she was last seen in, Hades and Poseidon both grabbed a can as well, calling out for your kitten.

-After ten minutes with no luck, including leaving a bowl to bait her out, they were quickly tearing the room apart, overturning tables and chairs, pulling curtains down, calling out for your baby.

-Zeus was panicking, his eyes wide, “How could she have just disappeared?! Our backs were turned for just a moment!!” Poseidon called Hermes, instructing him to call the other Greek gods- sounding the alarm on your missing baby!

-You were blissfully unaware of the panic, in your human form, looking at baby onesies with a fond smile on your face, “I wonder if my husband would want another~”

-Your husband, during a short break during his lecture felt a shiver run up his spine, which confused him, wondering what was causing it.

-Just under two hours later you arrived back in Valhalla, finding the meeting room in shambles, most things were broken and you’re pretty sure some of the curtains in the corner were on fire as the Greek gods were all laying around, some on the floor and Apollo and Hermes on the table, completely exhausted.

-You trotted over, in your cat form now, hopping up to see your baby sleeping peacefully on Hermes’ chest and you cooed softly, “Aww~ you guys did such a good job!”

-Hearing your voice, your baby quickly woke up, calling out happily and instantly the gods all shot up, seeing you there and cried out in happiness, “Y/N!”

-You were surprised, hearing their loud voices as you looked around, “So what happened in here? Did you all have a party?”

-Without saying a word, every single one of them pointed at your baby and you looked at her as she tried to look extra cute, so you wouldn’t be too mad.

-Your eyes narrowed at your baby before you turned, “I apologize for her behavior. It won’t happen again, right?” you said the last bit to your baby who instantly sat up, giving you huge baby eyes.

-You enveloped the room in darkness, just for a moment and as light returned, you had fixed everything, including the fire torched curtains and broken furniture.

-You picked your baby up by the scruff of her neck and disappeared in a swirl of shadows, not seeing the collective sigh of relief on the faces of the gods as they relaxed, praying you wouldn’t ask again any time soon.

-You asked them the very next day, much to their horror.

[thru-the-grapevine]

Half-Baked

Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader

Summary: your job at the bakery becomes increasingly more dangerous the longer the cute new customer frequents it (and the longer your coworker teases you about him)

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: fluff, bakery au

The first time he came in, you’d taken one look at him and accidentally dropped a tray of brownies you were taking out of the oven. You’d never done something that klutzy before, and it only made you more flustered. Surely if someone as pretty as him lived around here, you’d already know…?

He’d either graciously pretended not to notice the dropped brownies, or was entirely oblivious. He’d ordered a blueberry muffin and tucked his change into the tip jar with a smile at you. You’d nearly dropped the muffin while handing it over.

Vernon called him Cute Muffin Man after that. You dubbed Vernon the Most Insufferable Coworker Friend Ever.

The second time he came in, you’d forgotten you were icing a flower onto a cupcake and stared at him until you felt icing on your hand and saw the blotchy mess you’d made. It was salvageable, but you were sure your face was bright red the whole time you helped him. He’d asked which of the danishes was your favorite, and you’d graced him with an eloquent “uhhhhh” until he said he’d take one of each. He still left his change in the tip jar.

Vernon hummed “The Muffin Man” as the man walked out the door. You cornered Vernon and smudged icing on his cheek.

The third time he came in, the oven timer had just started chiming and you turned it off without a second thought. You managed to make a non-embarrassing conversation with him while he ordered a plate of snickerdoodles from you, learning they were for a reception after a recital he was doing. So he’s a musician.

Halfway through ringing him up, you smelled something burning. The next second the fire alarm went off. By the time you pulled the smoking creme brûlée remains from the oven and fanned both them and the smoke detector, Vernon had already called the fire department, and the man was already gone. He’d left twice the amount for the snickerdoodles on the counter.

You swore you were cursed. Vernon suggested you’d done something to offend the muffin gods. You threatened murder.

The fourth time he came in, he hadn’t come in at all. Vernon handed you the phone, saying someone wanted to order a birthday cake, and you realized too late who was on the other end. You’d glared daggers at a beaming Vernon whilst taking the order down.

“May I have a name for the order?” You’d asked, thrilled to finally have a good excuse to learn his name.

“Oh, my sister will come and pick it up, so I’ll put it under her name,” he said.

Of course. “Would you like any message on the cake?”

“That’d be great, actually,” he said. “I think ‘Happy Birthday, Mina’ would work.”

He’d paused as you scribbled down the message, then said, “Actually, add ‘from your Uncle Ji’ at the end, too. At least my niece will know I wanted to be there.”

Slowly, you grinned. Ji. “It should be ready by tomorrow afternoon.”

You’d promptly pretended to strangle Vernon with the telephone cord once you’d hung up.

And then there was this time.

You were in the back, putting a tray of brioche buns in the proving drawer, when Vernon called, “Hey, the CMM order is ready to be picked up. Grab it out of the fridge?”

“I hate you,” you said with no venom as you closed the proving drawer and made your way to the special order fridge. Vernon had shortened “Cute Muffin Man” to an acronym lately, in another successful attempt to tease you, and it was driving you nuts.

You grabbed the cake box and closed the fridge. “It’s bad enough you’ve got a nickname for ‘Ji’ at all, but it’ll be just my luck for Cute Muffin Man to actually show up when you say it, and ask me what it means, and then I’ll have to—explain…”

You trailed off, slowing to a halt, as you came face to face with the man, himself, across the counter. You felt your stomach drop out your ass.

Vernon at least had the good grace to be abashed. “I, um, I’ll go check on the brioche.”

The sound of the door to the back kitchen clicking shut felt deafening.

The man blinked. “Um. Hi.”

You tried to return the greeting, but your throat was too dry. You cleared your throat and tried again. “I thought you said your sister was picking up the order.”

That wasn’t a hello, idiot, you chided yourself.

“Oh, I.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I ended up being in town, after all. My gig fell through. Thought I’d pick it up myself.”

“Oh. Um. Great.”

My god, you were going to kill Vernon. Curse the muffin gods. Woodenly, you set the cake box on the counter and slid it over.

“Thanks.” He propped the lid open and looked at the cake. “Wow, this looks great. Did you do the icing?”

“I…yeah,” you said.

“It’s so pretty. How much do I owe again?”

Payment. You breathed a sigh of relief; that you could do. You went over to the register and began ringing it up.

The man pulled his wallet from his back pocket once you told him the total. “So…”

You felt your stomach drop out your ass again.

He raised an eyebrow, that smile that always flustered you curling at his lips. “Cute muffin man?”

You hoped Vernon was locking himself in the walk-in freezer back there. “I…my coworker, he, uh…it’s a nickname he…w-well, because of—”

You clamped your mouth shut, feeling the flame of a thousand suns on your face. This is actually the worst, I think.

The bakery door chimed open, and a woman you’d never seen before with familiar features popped her head in.

“Ji’, I love you, but quit flirting with Disaster Bakery Girl and buy the cake or we’ll be late.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you clamped it shut again when the woman smiled brightly at you and popped back out again.

You turned back to the man. His eyes were shut, and you could see the tips of his ears turning bright red. The door jingled shut, but for another long moment there was silence.

“Is she gone?” He asked in an even voice, still not opening his eyes. “Tell me she’s gone.”

“She’s gone,” you said.

He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. “Sisters.”

You took pity on him. “I, uh, have a walk-in freezer in the back, if you want to shove her in there with my coworker…”

His face broke into a smile, and he finally opened his eyes.

You bit your lip. “I swear, I promise I’m not a disaster all the time. You’re just really—”

You snapped your mouth shut again. Good fucking god, can you try not to embarrass yourself for two whole seconds—

“Would you like to get coffee with me sometime?”

You blinked. He…what?

“Maybe?” He added uncertainly when you didn’t speak for a full two seconds.

“I…” You swallowed. “Yeah, I think I’d…yeah.”

His smile was hopeful. “Yeah?”

You couldn’t stop beaming. “Yeah.”

God, he was so cute you were going to die.

He ordered an additional half-dozen muffins for pickup a few days from then. “To go with a coffee date,” he said, winking.

You dropped his card twice trying to process the payment.

He scribbled a phone number under the signature “Lee Jihoon” on the receipt. You liked it better than any tip.

(“So technically I did you a favor,” Vernon said later.

You spent five minutes after that chasing after him around the bakery, brandishing a rolling pin.)

[corvidcrows]

Doing another character study rn of Narrators and this time, it's @blackkatdraws Black! Thanks to them sm for letting me write him interacting with my Narry, Luke!

Just dumping some of my Narrator fics into this blog :)

===

Black was bored. Very, very bored.

And a bored Black was a dangerous one... sort of. Violent, no. Destructive, maybe. But mischievious? An absolute yes.

He can remember the last time he had been bored enough to wreak havok. It had resulted in many submitted complaints about Black to the Parable Flats committee, new rules being written into place, and a stern warning from Arthur to never repeat the occurence. Black still found it exceedingly funny, but he does promise his best friend that he would stop tone down his pranks so there would be no future mishaps.

He's been pretty good at behaving these days (except for may be a few stray incidents here and there, but they don't count). Most of his friends were off doing God knows what in God knows where, so he was left to his own devices for an entire weekend.

Big mistake. By the second day of his so-called isolation, Black had been bored enough to work through each and every one of his favorite hobbies, writing as much as his creativity allowed, and it was still not enough to alleviate his boredom. He even hopped on all his favorite games. It was enough for him to contemplate going back on his word and repeating his streaks of previous pranks. There's no one stopping him, anyways

But a promise was a promise. Black sits in his flat, bored out of his mind, until something occurs to him.

Messing with other people wasn't off the table. He only had to carefully skirt the rules, make sure his friends didn't know, and not get caught by any other Narrators or Stanleys.

He's bored enough to try it. If he didn't get someone to stop him right now, he's going to pull something off.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, and reflexively dials a familiar number.

"You've reached the number of Arthur Gold," says the mechanical voice. "If you'd like to leave a message–"

Black hangs up before the message could complete, sighing and almost letting the phone drop to the floor.

Screw it, he's about to do a Black right now.

Funny thing, that. He had the usual reputation for being a bit uptight and aloof when it comes to encountering new people, and often had a standoffish persona that many people, excluding his friends, usually see.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't have another facet to his personality, one that was more genuine and reserved only for friends. It was his happy-go-lucky, teasing, fun-loving self that only a few people have the privilege of seeing. He had to be responsible most of the time, but when he was with his friends he was allowed to relax and let loose. He's a bit two-faced in a way, but he doesnt really care about that. He only ever cared about his friends' opinions, so ot was only noticeable that he treated his friends special because of it.

He exits his apartment and travels to the other side of the Flats, where he had fewer chances of being seensnd recognized by his fellow Narrators. From there, he starts pacing the hallways of the Flat, trying to build up the courage.

It's been a while since he's done this. And probably the first time when most of his friends were a bit too busy or far away to help him. So whatever he would do right now, he will shoulder the burden next time.

He was just about to contemplate pulling the fire alarm when someone steps into view. It's clearly a Narrator, if the rumpled old-style blue suit was anything to go by, and usually Black would not pay attention, if it weren't for this man also possesding a very bright yellow, very distracting tail that seemed to shift and lengthen the longer he looked at it.

So Black didn't. He turns and ignores the new Narrator completely, focusing on his thoughts about pranks and the least intrusive way to go about them.

But then the new Narrator spoke, voice extremely level but not altogether discourteous.

"I've never seen you around here before. Perhaps you are new to the Flats, like me? I can perhaps assist you shall you need to."

Ah, shit. Now he actually had to talk to this person.

"I don't need help," Black says bluntly, honestly, leaving no room for more conversations. He doesn't need this person taking up any more of his valuable pranking time nor does he need him to recognize who he is.

The stranger seems to get the hint though, because he simply bows slightly in response to the comment and floats off, strange tail swishing in his wake. Black sighs in relief, then proceeds to contemplate.

Only a few minutes into his thinking does he get his answer. Cackling he strolls down the length of the hallway and picks a few doors at random. Time to give his "victims" a little taste of his boredom.

All Narrators sound the same, correct? He doesn't even need to use his amorphous crystalline body all the time to mimic the vocal ranges of other entities. He simply needs to voiceact with emotion.

His pranks go like this:

He knocks on the door. Calls out to the Narrator inside, with something that forces them to open it. Then he hides while watching the Narrator look around in utter confusion.

A simple, stupid plan, but oh boy was it entertaining to the very bored Black.

"Narry! I haven't seen you in ages. Want to talk to me?"

"I'm here to call you about the 17 boxes of pizza you ordered a while ago. Can you receive it?"

"I'm the landlord. Your rent's been overdue for the past 3 months. We need to talk about your late payments."

Black snickers as he hid behind the corner and watched the Narrators open their doors and spots no one there. This was such a simple prank; why hadn't he thought of doing this before? It was also not enough for him to get into trouble.

The last one where a Narrator strode over to another Narrator's flat to ask them if they were the ones to ask for salt had Black covering his mouth to stifle the bouts of laughter coming from his mouth. He looks off to the side, wiping tears from his eyes, when he spots something that wipes the smile off his face.

It was the Narrator. The same one with the funny yellow arrow tail replacing the bottom half of his body, staring at him with piercing green eyes. Black splutters and blushes in embarrassment, forgetting about his current victim entirely when the man floats forward. Oh god, was he going to get reported again? He was just playing around.

"You might want to be careful," he simply says, before hovering into a nearby room. Possibly his own flat.

That's it? He wasn't going to say anything else? Blsck stared at the closed door for a second, seemingly at a loss. He'd been caught with his metaphorical pants down, accidentally showing the goofier side of himself to a total stranger and also risking himself getting caught, but there were absolutely no repurcussions, courtesy of this guy.

It takes a good long while for Black to recover, but he does it... and immediately goes back to doing his pranks.

Hey, old habits don't die very easily.

He knocks on the next door and warps his voice this time to resemble a Stanley's.

"Hey, it's me! Your Stanley! I just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out today? Let me in!"

He had been about to bolt when the Narry on the other side answers.

"STANLEY? I haven't seen you in bloody ages. I thought you didn't want to see me anymore? I'm right by the door, I'll get to you ASAP."

Right by the door?! That's not enough time for him to hide. He watches in horror as the door begins to open–

And then all the lights in the hallway switch off.

Yells and shouts reverberate throughout the entire building. The hallways was shrouded in pitch darkness. In the confusion, Black slips away undetected despite the Narrator opening the door mere seconds after Black had started running, his eyes squinting and and straining to see in the dark.

Black breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the fear and anxiety flow through him like a dose of adrenaline. That was very, very close. And also, rather convenient. Thank god for that miracle.

"I told you to be careful," a voice says from behind him.

Black jolts in his skin and whirls around to meet (yet again) the eyes of the strange Narrator, whose expression was impassive yet had a hint of slight amusement behind it.

The man waves a hand, and the lights in the hallways come back to life. Instantly, the voices from the hallway turn into murmurs of relief and delight.

Wait a minute, this man...

"Was it you?" he croaks. "Did you save my arse earlier from getting caught?"

"What, me? No. It was the blackout that did," the man responds, but his lips twitch upward, as if he had been waiting for Black to ask.

The answer was obvious. Black straightens up and nods at the Narrator, this time showing a smile to a stranger for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

"Black. Um– thank you. For helping me back there," he clarifies. "I know you didn't have to do that for me."

"Luke. And the pleasure is all mine," the man said, his eyes shining behind a pair of rectangular glasses. "Your pranks are amusing. Next time you want to do them, I want to watch as well."

'Next time'? Perhaps this man wasn't so bad after all.

[final-girl96]

My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Twenty-Three

YN

I groaned, reaching blindly for my alarm to turn it off. "God, shut the fuck up!" I slammed my hand down on it and rolled onto my back, stretching out my body. I was sore. Why am I sore? My eyes shot open and I sprung into a sitting position. I looked around my room but I was alone. Flashes from last night played in my mind. "Motherfucker!" When I looked down I was naked, my sheet only covering my bottom half.

I flopping back down, covering my face with my hands. I had a deep ache between my legs both from Stu fucking me last night, making me come several time and from wanting more. I started to wish he was still here to take care of it and I scolded myself. "Stop it! He's a fucking psychopath for fuck sake."

But he always makes me feel so fucking good. The way his rough hands feel against my soft skin. The way his tongue works me into…STOP!

I quickly threw the sheet off of me and stood up, grabbing clothes and putting them on. I went to grab my key, pepper spray, and backpack when I saw a note on my desk. I looked at it for a few minutes debating if I should read it or not. I decided to shove it in the draw instead and then left my room. A hand landed on my shoulder while I was locking my door and I screamed. "It's me! Yn, it's just me!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sid! You can't just sneak up on me like that!" I put a hand over my rapidly beating heart. "I called your name like twice," she said. "Oh. Sorry. What's up?" She gave me a concerned look, "are you okay? You've been pretty jumpy lately." I scoffed, "I have not been jumpy." Hallie came around the corner nodding her head, "girl, yes you have been." I rolled my eyes and started walking for the stairs. "Is there a reason you came up here?" I asked them.

"There was a murder last night at the movie theater. Two Windsor students were killed at the Stab premiere." I stopped and looked back at Sidney. "What?" She nodded her head, "it's happening again. They were both stabbed by someone in a ghostface costume. People thought it was a publicity stunt."

Did Stu do this before he came here?

"Where's Randy?" I asked, walking down the stairs. "Film theory, I think," Hallie said before going back to their dorm. As soon as me and Sidney walked out the door of our dorm building we had microphones shoved in our faces as reports fired question after question after us.

"Yn!"

"Yn, do you think Stu Macher had a part in this?"

"Do you know where Stu Macher is? Did you help him escape?"

"Are you hiding him?"

"Do you know who the killer is?"

Sidney grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her as we ran across campus to the film building. We waited outside the classroom Randy was in until they were done discussing sequels. Mickey walked out and smiled at me. The dude gave me the fucking creeps. "Awe, did you come to walk me to my next class?" He put his arm around my shoulder and I shoved it off. As soon as Randy came out of the room I grabbed him. "We need to talk," I said.

Sidney and I told him about the two students killed last night and he denied it having anything to do with us. He was also talking in a weird accent. "What's up with the fucking accent? Would you people get your head out of your ass and fucking listen!" I said. He stopped walking and looked at me. "This has nothing to do with us," he said. "Oh, my god, Randy! You're so deep in denial!" I threw my hands up, turning and walking away.

"She's right Randy, you're in denial. We don't want this to be happening again either but it is," Sidney said. Randy started saying something and then Sidney's new boyfriend Derek showed up. Randy walked over to me and mumbled something about getting a room while they stood there kissing. "Sorry, buddy. The geek doesn't get the girl unfortunately."

We all went to sit by one of the walls to watch the press conference with the Chief of Police. Randy nudged me and Sidney, "looks it's Gale Weathers." I looked where he was pointing and sure enough there stood Gale front and center. "I heard she got calf implants," Randy said. He started talking into Mickey's camera and I sat on the wall. "I'm going to get closer," Randy said and down to where all the reports were.

Then the fucking sorority sisters came. They completely ignored me and went for Sidney. They were throwing a party tonight, a parry I would be skipping. Then I saw Dewey. "Oh, my god, Sid, look!" I pointed to where he was standing and we both ran over to him. "Dewey!" He turned around and smiled when he saw both of us running towards him. "What're you doing here?!" Sidney asked, hugging him. He hugged me next before answering. "Heard what happened and needed to come and check you three." He said. "Where's Randy?"

"Being nosey. Come on, we can talk over here." We went to the gazebo and talked for a little while before he left and we met our friends again. Mickey tried to talk about how many times they were stabbed but Derek stopped him before asking who we were talking to. "Was that Dewey? What's he doing here?" Randy asked, coming up beside me. "Wanted to come make sure we were okay."

As we were all walking away to go to our classes Mickey came up beside me. "Don't worry I'll protect you," he whispered in my ear then walked away. It was a little fucking creepy but of course he was fucking creepy. After my class I went back to my dorm and pulled the note Stu had left me.

Baby,

I'll be back tonight at 9 pm. Meet me outside. If you're not there, I will be coming up to your room and getting you.

I Love You ,

XOXO

why couldn't my life just be fucking simple? Why can't I just have a normal life like everyone else? That's all I wanted but no, my mother had to be the whore of the town and had an affair with her daughter's boyfriend's father. Then my sister's boyfriend murdered her along with my boyfriend and they pinned it on someone else, waited a year and killed more people saving us for last and trying to kill us.

My boyfriend ended up surviving and getting away and now he won't leave me the fuck alone. Oh and let's not forget to add I'm there that someone is back to killing people as ghostface and it's probably Stu!

[starset21]

New House, New Start

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may currently be found is on tumblr and Wattpad under the name @.itswildflower

Looking for more? Chicago Fire Collection Masterlist 

Word count: 2703

Warnings: cannon typical depictions of fires/accidents

A new house, a new start. That’s what Dani told herself as she climbed out of her truck and grabbed her duffle bag. She was a little early for her first shift but she’d rather be early than late.  “I’m looking for the Chief’s office,” she started as she walked into the common room. “Down the hallway,” someone tells her. “Thanks.” She makes her way past the bunk room and into the main office. “I’m here to meet with Chief Boden,” Dani tells the lady at the computer. “Through there,” the woman points. “Thanks.” Taking a deep breath she knocks on the door to the office and hears a clear “come in.” She opens the door and the Chief stands from his chair. “Welcome to 51, I’ve heard such great things about you,” he greets her, offering a hand to shake. “Thank you sir, glad to be here,” she tells him when the phone rings. “Sorry, about cutting this short but everything’s pretty straight forward, if you have any questions let me know, there’s new gear for you in the turn out room and lockers are just through the bunk room, find an open one and put your name on it,” he added. “No problem, thank you sir, I’m sure I’ll find everything just fine.” The Chief nodded before dismissing her. 

She walked back down the hallway to the bunk room and found an open locker, placing her things in it before placing her lock on it and finding the roll of tape. She ties back her hair and goes to leave the bunkroom when she runs into several of the other firefighters, most of them giving her a strange look. “Dani, what the hell are you doing here?” a familiar voice rings out, pushing through the others. “Oh I don’t know, my job?” she laughs. Matt Casey opened his arms and she stepped into them, embracing her long time friend. “It’s so good to see you, its been what 4 years? Did you really transfer in?” he asks and Dani nodded as she stepped back, allowing them to actually come into the bunk room. “Just had a meeting with Chief,” she tells him. “Casey, who’s this?” someone asks. “Our newest member of Truck 81 and an old friend of mine,” he tells them. “Danielle Halstead, pleasure to meet you guys,” she told them. A few of them raised their brow and looked at the 5’4” woman. “Look, I get it guys, I’m a woman and a smaller one at that, but I assure you that I’m capable. I did a few years in northern California after completing my candidacy here in Chicago,” she tells them and they nod slowly. “Ok, now that that’s over, we’ve got Herrmann, Mouch, Otis, and Cruz on truck,” Matt introduces. They all head into the locker room and Matt starts with a small tour. “We have a new canidate coming in today, another female,” he tells her. “Awesome, we always need more women firefighters,” Dani tells him as they walk into the common room. “Severide, Capp, Tony, Clarke, and Mills will be here in a few minutes, they’re squad. And we have Shay and Dawson as our paramedics,” Matt finishes with the two of them out on the app floor. Dani pulls him in for another hug. “It really is so good to see you again Matt, I missed you.” Matt smiled, and patted her on the back. “I’ve got to go finish some things but feel free to wander and settle in.” 

~

“Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61. Person trapped,” the alarm rang out. “Shake a leg, guys,” Jones, the candidate, teases from inside the truck. “You're in my seat,” Herrmann grumbles to her and she moves. “That's my seat,” Mouch tells her when she moved. “Out of my seat,” Otis huffed and Jones scooted to the middle seat as Dani climbed in and shut the door. “Hey, does main know 61 isn't here?” Jones asks. “They'll catch the call over the radio, probably beat us to the scene,” Casey tells her. They pull up to the scene quickly and climb out. “Where's Dawson?” Casey asks. “I'm in here! Start warming up that IV just in case,” Dawson calls out. “This was all her idea. I had nothing to do with it,” Shay tells him. “Guys, we've got to get this girl outta here,” Dawson yells. “We got this. Herrmann. Let's get the saw,” Casey ordered. Jones turns and runs over to the truck. “Where's she going?” Herrmann asks. Jones pulls out the saw from the compartment and everyone watches as she practically drops it, cringing at the sound the blade on the pavement made. “Whoa. It's a lot heavier than the ones we trained on,” Jones tells Herrmann who grabs the saw from her. “Candidate, is your name Herrmann?” Casey yells. “I was just trying to help, sir,” Jones tries to explain. “Blade's all jacked up,” Herrmann yells, after looking the saw over. “Clarke, grab our saw,” Severide yells. Clarke moves quickly heading for the squad truck. “Jones! Stand over here and don't touch a damn thing!” Casey yells. Jones walks back over and Otis claps sarcastically for her. “It's gonna be another minute, Dawson. Sorry,” Severide tells her. “Shay, where's that IV?” Dawson calls out and Shay moves to hand it to her. Clarke hands Severide the saw and Casey pulls the lock with a strap so that they can make a clean cut. “Okay?” Severide asks and Casey nods. The lock is cut and Casey pulls open the door to the clothes donation bin. “I need blankets and a backboard right now. Let's move!” Dawson yells. 

On the way back from the call Herrmann watches Dani like he’s trying to figure something out. “Can I help you with something Herrmann?” she asks with a brow raised. “Say, you don’t happen to be related to a certain detective at 21, with the same last name as you?” he asks. “One of my older brothers, the other’s a doctor in New York,” she tells him before looking out of the window. She didn’t exactly have the best relationship with her brothers, she hadn’t even told Jay she was back in town. The trucks pull back into the garage and everyone climbs out, heading for the common room. “Oh, hey, Connie,” Mouch calls from the couch as she walks by. “The union is sending over some paperwork for me. I'm gonna need you to sign for that. Thanks.” Connie glared in Mouch’s direction before walking back to the offices. “You're poking the bear, Mouch. We've warned you about that,” Herrmann tells him, sitting down in one of the armchairs. “Get outta here. Connie loves me,” Mouch waved him off before turning and looking at the candidate in the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Jonesie. Just a heads up. If lunch isn't on the table at 12:00 sharp, the natives start to get restless,” he told her and Dani raised a brow, taking a seat at the round table beside Otis with a worn sketchbook. “And by natives, he means himself,” Herrmann tells her. “Duly noted. In the meantime, Lieutenant Casey said I'd be running drills today. I'd love to get started on that.” Jones looked around at her fellow firefighters, who made no moves. “Don't all jump at once. Otis? Halstead?” she asks. “Got a lot on my mind right now,” Otis tells her and Dani simply holds up her book. “Okay, so who's gonna drill me?” 

Cruz snickers to himself. “I'm not touching that with a 10-foot pole.” Jones turned to him. “10? I heard it was more like 4 ½.” Herrmann lets out a huff of laughter before shaking his head. “Hey. That is inappropriate.” Jones rolled her eyes. “Seriously, guys, I thought this was supposed to be a busy house,” Jones tried. “It's called downtime,” Dani called out, opening her sketchbook to a blank page. “Well, I don't feel like sitting on my ass. Could someone at least show me where the weight room is?” Jones asks. “You got energy to burn? Right this way,” Herrmann tells her smugly, leading Jones back towards the bunk room. Dani sketches for a little bit before deciding that she was going to go sketch the outside of the firehouse. She grabs her CFD jacket and beanie and walks past the squad table, earning her a few confused looks as she makes her way outside to sit criss-crossed in the driveway. “What the hell is the new girl doing?” Tony asks. Severide watched her for a moment somewhat intrigued, as she pulled out a pen from her pocket. He stood and followed her outside, coming to a stop in front of her. “What are you doing?” he asks. Dani raises a brow and looks up at the squad lieutenant. “I’m drawing the firehouse,” she tells him simply. “Ok but why?” he asks. “Because I have the time to, why not?” she asks in return. “That’s fair, I suppose,” he chuckles, sticking a hand out to her. “Kelly Severide.” Dani takes it, shaking his hand firmly. “I figured, Danielle Halstead, but my friends call me Dani,” she tells him. It was like a lightbulb went off in his head. “You’re the Dani that Matt has talked about! The one who fought wildfires.” Dani laughed. “All good things I hope,” she asked and Kelly nodded. “It’s nice to put a face to the name, welcome to 51,” he tells her. “Glad to be here,” she smiled up at him. “Kelly,” an older man begins walking up the driveway. “Right, well, I guess I’ll leave you to your drawing,” he tells her before heading inside with the man.

“Truck 81, Ambulance 61. Person stabbed. California and West 26th.” Dani stood up and ran inside, setting her sketchbook down with her regular boots and pulling up her turnout pants. “Sounds like we're here for crowd control, so all hands on deck. Protect the medics,” Casey starts as he climbs out of the truck. “Jones, where are you gonna be?” he asks. “Glued to your hip, Lieutenant,” Jones replies. “That's right. Let's go,” Casey gestures for everyone to follow him. “Crowd control. Great,” Herrmann mumbles as they push through the crowd. “This way, courtroom number four.” An officer meets up with them. “We're in the middle of a murder trial. Victim's father snuck a knife through security and stabbed the defendant. He's bleeding out,” the officer informs them. “I told you. Cut me loose,” the accused groans. “Cruz, get a hold of him,” Casey orders. The guy groans and screams as Shay and Dawson begin assessing him. “All right, his lung's hit. Could develop into a pneumothorax,” Shay tells them. “Get me an occlusive dressing. We've got to get him out now,” Dawson tells the other officer, who moves to uncuff the accused. “Oh, man,” the officer mutters. “What?” Casey asks. “The key. It broke off in the lock.” Casey narrows his eyes on the officer. “There's cops all over the place. Somebody's got to have a key.” The officer who had met them at the door shook her head. “These are maximum-security cuffs. A standard key won't fit. I'll call over to the jail. They'll have a key.” Dawson shook her head. “No time. He's losing too much blood,” she told them. “Otis, get the bolt cutters from the truck. Hurry.” Casey ordered. “On it,” Otis yells, heading for the truck. “Shay, get me an IV and oxygen,” Dawson ordered. “Herrmann, give me the halligan, Mouch. Hold him,” Casey calls out. The accused groans. “Guys, we're losing him,” Dawson shouts. “If he dies on our watch…” the officer starts. “Halstead, Jones, search the halls for a co2 extinguisher. Fast as you can,” Casey orders. “I'll go this way. You go that way,” Jones yells as the two women run down the hallway. “Yeah, aye, aye,” Dani mutters as Jones runs off. Finding an extinguisher Dani runs back towards the courtroom, spotting Jones darting through the door ahead of her. “Hit the eyebolt,” Casey tells Jones. He watches it for a moment before telling her to stop. Taking the halligan and breaking the chain off, Dawson and a few of the others jump into action, getting the accused onto a backboard to carry out. 

The next few hours were pretty slow, and Dani had finished her drawing of the firestation and was currently sitting on her bunk and scrolling through her phone. “Engine 51. Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61. High-rise fire. Michigan and Huron,” the alarm rang out. The firehouse jumped into action, everyone rushing to their rigs to get rolling. “So they rolled out Squad right away. Does that mean this is a working fire?” Jones asks and the experienced members in the back of the truck glanced at each other. “Don't know yet. But any call in a high-rise, we have to take it seriously. If it is a fire and it gets out of hand, that's bad,” Casey told her. “Must be your first high rise in a while Halstead, not quite the same as the woods is it?” Herrmann asks. “It’s definitely a different beast but this is why I took a few extra training courses before I transferred in, as a refresher,” she told him. Herrmann seemed to look at her with a little more respect after her words. Dani knew that she had been quiet and just went through the motions of the day earlier so she understood that some in the firehouse may have been skeptical of her abilities, given there weren’t many female firefighters out there, especially in Chicago. They pulled up on the scene and got out. “Wow. This is a real party,” Jones murmured. 

“People are reporting smoke on 18. That's a law firm,” the building manager met them at the door and told them. “Anyone workin' late?” Boden asks. “I don't know, but I got bad news for you. Elevators have been acting up. I put in a work order on Monday,” the building manager told them. “Otis, recall these elevators. Lock 'em off. We're takin' the stairs. North stairwell, fire attack. South, evacuation. Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad, fire attack and search on 18. Engine 67, lobby control. Truck 63, rapid ascent team and evac,” Chief calls into the radio. “Jones, get a spare bottle for yourself,” Casey calls out. “I'm coming up?” she asks. “You and I are gonna help engine. Grab a high-rise pack,” Casey tells her. The candidate jumps into action, grabbing what she was told and lugging them up onto her shoulder, grunting a little at the extra weight. “You wanted to be a firefighter…” Herrmann trailed off as they headed for the stairwell. 

“Jones. Hose pack and air bottles,” Casey called and the candidate moved forward, handing them to the waiting Engine member. A Dull roaring was heard from the fire. “Jones! Mask up,” Casey orders. “Come on, move! Come on!” Severide yells. “Ready?” he asks and when he gets nods of confirmation from everyone he opens the door. A blast of heat washed over them as they proceeded in. “You're gonna be fine, Jones! Just stick with me! Go where I go, okay?” Casey tells the candidate, who nods. “Mouch! Herrmann! You take the left! Casey, you go right, I'll go deep!” Severide called out. “Halstead! With Severide!” Casey ordered and Dani crouched a little and moved further into the engulfed floor, sticking to Severide’s back. “Fire department! Call out!” they shout. They worked in tandem, going back and forth to the stairwell, helping people up and passing them off to the others and when the last person was accounted for they both headed down the stairs and out into the cool night air, allowing Engine to finish putting out the blaze. One of the other medics passed them both water bottles and they took them gratefully. “Good work, Halstead, you ever want to try for squad I’d be glad to have you,” Severide tells her after they had both downed half the water bottles they’d been given. “Thanks lieutenant,” she offered him a small smile as he patted her on the shoulder and walked away. 

[middleearthpixie]

Human Touch ~ Chapter Two

Summary: Frerin Durin had the perfect life, until he found out his wife was cheating on him. Now, he’s navigating uncharted territory as an about-to-be divorced single dad. Dating is a mess, he’s dealing with the fallout where his kids are concerned, and really, he would just love a vacation away from all of it. 

Elena Madison is new to Sidleburg, new to the history department at the high school, and also navigating life as a newly single parent. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to come down sick, when she hasn’t even had time to unpack the moving boxes, never mind find a pediatrician. And the last thing she ever expected was to meet a man like Dr. Frerin Durin…

Neither Elena nor Frerin were looking for anything, but fate has a way of messing up even the best laid plans. However, both have been hurt and both aren't at all sure they trust themselves, never mind trusting someone else...

Pairings:  Modern!Frerin  x OC Female Elena Madison

Characters: Frerin, Elena, Alyssa, Carol Kingsley, Ashley Leda, Andrea, Flynn, Maura, and Jake

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.9k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

“Frerin?”

Frerin looked up as Carol Kingsley came into the lounge. “Are the results back for Alyssa Madison yet?”

“They are. You were right. Just the flu.”

“Good.” He stood up, stretching his arms overhead, and bowed his back, letting out a low sigh of appreciation as his spine popped. “I’m getting too old for overnights.”

“Well, at least you’ve had a slow night.”

“I don't know that’s much better actually.” He took the lab slips from her. “Thanks, Carol.”

“Sure. Hey, how is everything?”

“Truth?”

“Truth.”

“It sucks. I don't know how you’ve been doing this for as long as you have.”

“I don't have a choice, same as you.” Carol tugged a chair out and sank into it. “How’s Flynn doing?”

“He’s seeing a therapist. We talked about his changing schools, but he decided he wants to stay where his friends are and graduate with them next year, so there’s that. I mean, they all know what happened, and they know their mom and I can’t be in the same room together right now without World War Three breaking out. And it just sucks.”

“You know, Alyssa Madison’s mom is pretty cute.”

He peered down at the test results in his hand. Alyssa’s white blood count was higher than normal, but that was to be expected and nothing to be alarmed by. Her other counts were normal or slightly elevated but within a normal range. No cause for concern overall. “Are you trying to get me fired, Carol?”

“Get you fired how? Dating Alyssa would be against the rules. Not to mention creepy as anything. But her mom? That’s fine.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not hitting on the mother of a sick girl tonight. That’s a little far out of my wheelhouse.” He moved to the door and tugged it open. “Thanks for getting these for me.”

“Sure. But, keep her in mind. She was cute.”

He shook his head as he left he lounge. Yes, Elena Madison was cute, but he was not about to hit on her in the middle of the night, in the ER.

Which was a bit too bad, really. Because actually, she was downright hot, as far as he was concerned. She was tiny, maybe a little over five feet tall, if that, with dark hair hastily pulled up into one of those messy bun-things that always made women look adorable. But the first thing he’d noticed about her was her eyes. They were a brown so dark, they looked almost black, and when they met his, he almost sighed out loud. 

And for the first time since he was nineteen years old, Frerin was single. In the midst of an acrimonious divorce, maybe, but single. But since this was an ER and not a club or even the damn grocery store, Elena Madison was off-limits.

Figures.

He made his way down the hall, glancing down at the black Apple Watch on his right wrist. Quarter after five. He was supposed to be off at six, just in time to get Flynn and Maura off to school, push through to get Jake to school, then he could sleep. 

Both Elena and Alyssa were asleep, the lights in the room off except for the low one behind Alyssa’s bed. He closed the door softly behind him and came over to see Elena curled in almost a ball in the chair at her daughter’s bedside. 

Carefully, so as not to startle her, he touched her shoulder. “Mrs. Madison?”

She jerked awake.”Yes? I’m up, I swear.”

“It’s all right. I just wanted to give you the results of Alyssa’s bloodwork. No sign of meningitis so it’s probably just the flu. Fluids and rest are all she really needs. Tylenol for the fever and I’d suggest you keep her home from school for the rest of the week. I can write a note for you if you need one, which, since she goes to the same school as my daughter, I know she will.”

Elena sat up, rubbing one eye. “I’d appreciate it, thank you.”

“Sure. Just make sure she rests and she should be fine in a few days. If the fever doesn’t resolve in a day or two, bring her back in and we’ll to the tap, but I don't think that’s going to be necessary.”

She took the paper from him. “I can do that. Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Follow up with your reg—oh, that’s right… you don't have a pediatrician for her. If you want, bring her back in a few days and I’ll take care of her.”

“Here?”

“Pedes is up on the eight floor. Just tell my secretary and she’ll come find me. I’m on nights next week as well, so I’ll be here from six to six at least.”

“Thank you, Dr. Durin.”

He smiled. “Of course. You take care of yourself, too. Don’t let yourself get too run down. Do you have any kind of help?”

“No. It’s just us and we’ve only been here a few weeks.” She folded the lab results and tucked them into her purse. “But we’ll manage.”

“Well, if Alyssa spikes another fever or you do, just come back. Carol always knows where to find me.”

“I will. And again, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck.” He smiled and looked over at Alyssa. “And don’t worry. She should be just fine.”

“I know, but… you know how it is when it’s your kid. You just want to fix it for them.”

“Yeah. I know. And one of the hardest things as a parent is accepting that you can’t.”

She looked up at him and for a moment, the urge to ask her to grab a cup of coffee while Alyssa slept a little longer hovered at his lips. But before he could, Alyssa stretched and opened her eyes. “Do I need that shot?”

He shook his head. “You don't need any shots or needles, Alyssa. It’s just the flu, so Mom’s going to take you home and tuck you into bed and you can go back to sleep.”

“When can I go back to school?”

“Monday.”

“I’ll email your teachers,” Elena said, patting her through the blanket, “and bring home any work they assign.”

“Do I have to do it?”

“Yes,” Elena and Frerin spoke at the same time and Elena let out a soft laugh. “See? Even your doctor thinks so.”

“Damn,” Alyssa muttered, but she smiled. “Okay.”

“I’ll be right back with your discharge instructions and that note.” Frerin smiled first at Alyssa, then Elena. 

“Thank you, Dr. Durin.”

“You’re welcome. Feel better, Alyssa.”

He stepped out into the hallway in time to see his sister-in-law, Leda, at the registration desk, her and Thorin’s infant daughter Andrea in her arms. “Leda? What’s wrong?”

“Dr. Durin,” the desk clerk, Ashley, looked more than a little nervous, “she said she knew you so I hope it’s okay I buzzed her back.”

“It’s fine, but you should really check with me or whoever before letting anyone here.” He looked from her to Leda, who looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. “What’s wrong?”

“I don't know. Thorin thinks maybe she’s teething, but she’s running a fever and won’t stop crying and he thinks I’m crazy for bringing her here, but—”

“Okay, Leda, it’s fine. You’re lucky. I’m off in a few minutes, so you just caught me. Is Thorin home with James?”

She nodded, setting Andrea’s carrier on the floor. “He’s fine. It’s just… I don't know… I know a lot of stuff is going around and they both have been sick and…”

He smiled, draping an arm about her shoulders. “It’s okay. Come on.” He gave her a squeeze, then crouched to lift the carrier, adding, “Ashley, I’ll be in Curtain Three if anyone comes looking.”

“Okay, Dr. D.”

“Dr. D?” Leda asked with a tired grin as he led her down the short corridor to the curtained areas of the ER.

“Yeah, I know. She’s young.”

“Frer, they’re all young.”

He grinned as he set Andrea’s carrier on the bed and clicked the handle back. “When was the last time you took her temp?”

“About half an hour ago. It was one-oh-one.”

“Is she nursing?”

Leda nodded, rubbing one eye. “She is, but not like she usually does.”

“Is she peeing?”

A tired laugh. “Like a champ.”

“Okay.” He unbuckled the five-point harness and carefully lifted his niece from the fleecy blanket she’d been zipped into. “Hey, honey, you don't mind if Uncle Frerin takes a look, right?”

Andrea’s eyes were deep blue and wide open and she stared at him as if he was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. He cradled her against him in one arm and pressed his hand to her forehead, which was warm, but that could have also been from being bundled up. 

Her face scrunched up and she let out a soft cry and without thinking, he pressed a kiss into the top of her head, into the silky almost-black baby hair that poked up from static. “Shhh… it’s okay, little bit.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Leda wince and as he gently lay Andrea on the bed alongside her carrier, he said, “It really is okay, Leda. She’s a little warm, she’s nursing and making urine, so it’s probably just a virus. First, you’ve got her too bundled up, so I’m just going to peel off a layer.”

“It’s so cold out.”

“It is, but between her sleeper and the fleece snowsuit and the fleece BundleMe? It’s too much.” He unsnapped the fleece snowsuit in question and carefully eased it from Andrea’s arms and legs. First, he took the tympanic thermometer from the basket on its stand, slid a fresh cap onto it and carefully fit it into Andrea’s left ear. She let out a soft giggle, trying to squirm away even as he said, “Hold still, honey…”

It beeped within a few seconds and he smiled when he looked down at the readout. “Her temp’s down to one hundred.” He popped off the prophylactic cap to toss in the trash and returned the thermometer, then turned back to Andrea. He fit the earpieces of his borrowed stethoscope into his ears and unbuttoned the sleeper to press the diaphragm into Andrea’s chest. He moved it and listened. Moved it again and listened. “Her heart and lungs sound fine. Lungs are clear.”

He straightened up. “I can draw blood, if it’d make you feel better, but I don't think it’s really necessary.” 

“Thorin told me I was just being overprotective and that I shouldn’t bother you.”

“It’s not a bother.” He tugged the earpieces free and draped the stethoscope about his neck once more. “You’re her mother, it’s normal to worry when it’s your kid. Trust me, I’ve seen mothers bring in their babies for all kinds of things that wouldn’t phase them if it was themselves. There’s nothing wrong with being careful. And tell Thorin it’s not bothering me at all, okay?”

“You really think I’m just being overly cautious?”

“Leda, there is no such thing.” He tucked Andrea back into her sleeper and buttoned it up. “It’s better to be safe than sorry, and she’s just got a little bit of a cold. Fluids and rest, like I’m telling most of the parents who’ve come through here tonight.”

“Why are you even down here? You’re not an ER doctor.”

“I know, but I’m covering for the usual pediatrician who covers the ER. And,” he looked up at the clock, “my relief should be here and I am off the clock. Just have to run Leigh’s stethoscope back to her and I am out of here until six PM tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry I bothered you, Frerin.”

“Don't be, and it’s not a bother, Leda. Really. I don't mind.” He smiled as he whisked the stethoscope from around his neck. “Give me five minutes to run this upstairs and I’ll walk you out, okay?”

Leda smiled as she tucked Andrea back into her carrier. “Okay.”

“You can wait in the lounge, if you—”

“Excuse me, Dr. Durin?”

Frerin and Leda turned at the same time and Frerin smiled as Elena Madison said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the nurse never came back with our discharge information or that note.”

“Really? Okay. Give me five minutes to print them off and then Leda, I’ll go up and drop this off and then we can go.”

Leda smiled. “We’ll wait. In the lounge?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back slightly. “Down the hall, on your right.”

She carried Andrea out of the curtained area, and he turned back to Elena. “Sorry about that. Sometimes orders get lost in the shuffle of shift change. Come with me and I’ll get them for you.”

She followed him back to the main desk and he ducked around to one of the laptops. “What’s the code for this department again?” he asked no one in particular.

“Three-three-one-five, Dr. D.,” Ashley called.

“Thank you.” He typed the code in, hit the button to print, and moved down to the bank of printers at the far end of the station to grab the sheets of as they printed. When the absence note came out, he plucked a pen from the cup on the counter to scrawl his signature across the bottom of it, then plunked the pen back into its cup. “Here you go, Mrs. Madison. I’m sorry about that.”

She took them. “It’s fine. I was just beginning to think we’d been forgotten.”

“Nah. That isn’t going to happen too easily. Take Alyssa home and both of you get some rest,” he came around the edge of the desk to press the sheaf into her hand, “you both have had a long night.”

“You’re not kidding. And believe me,” Elena took the papers, “I’m going to do just that. Thank you again, Dr. Durin.”

“Any time. Have a good night—er, good morning.”

“You, too.”

She turned to go back to Alyssa’s room, while he made his way to the lounge and poked his head in. “I swear, Leda, I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

“No problem.” Leda smiled. “She was cute, Frerin.”

“Oh, not you, too,” he groaned. “One of the nurses was determined to fix me up with her as well. Her daughter was my patient. Fourteen year old with the flu.”

“And you can’t ask out a patient’s mother?”

He sighed, leaning against the doorjamb. “Technically, yes, I can, but it’s kind of not the right time, considering she brought her daughter in because she was worried about her.”

“Frerin, I’ve seen that look she was giving you. I’m pretty sure it’s how I looked at Thorin before we got together.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Now is not a good time, Leda. I’m running a short-handed department now, my kid’s in therapy, I’m in the middle of a divorce and my soon to be ex-wife is determined to make my life as miserable as possible over it. Somehow, getting back into the dating pool is not high on my list of priorities.”

“No one says you have to marry her, Frer,” she told him, her blue eyes gleaming with the devil. “Nothing wrong with something casual.”

“Even so, I’m not hitting on her in the ER, Leda. I’m just not. Now, let me go run this back to the nurse who was kind enough to loan it to me, grab my coat, and then I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” He rapped his knuckles against the doorjamb, then left the lounge to head back to the elevator bank. 

He and Toni separated a year ago, and while he’d been out on a few dates, they amounted to nothing more than hours of his life he’d never get back, and even after all this time, he still wasn't comfortable with being single yet. He and Toni had been together since they were nineteen, married at twenty and were parents just three months after their wedding. Their relationship was far from perfect, but the final straw came when he found out she was cheating on him, with a kid only a few years older than their son Flynn. He was no angel, and was guilty of several short-lived but utterly intense affairs as well, but while they’d tried to salvage things before, they both knew it was pointless now. Their marriage was irretrievably broken and there was no fixing it, there’d be no reconciliation. The end had been coming for a long while and her affair with the kid was what it took for them to both finally admit the truth and he’d filed for divorce, and now his focus was on work and the kids and on little else. He just wasn't ready to invest himself again in anything more than that.

“Leigh, thank you for this,” he said as he held out the stethoscope. “Do you think you could order me a pink one?”

“Pink, Frerin?”

He grinned. “A patient thought I should get a pink steth.”

“I’ll talk to Jerry when he comes in later. Any other colors?”

“Nah. Just pink.”

“Go home, Dr. Durin.”

“I am.” He smiled and pushed away from the desk to make his way to his office at the end of the hallway. His secretary, Katie would be in for nine, but for now, all was quiet as he passed her desk to his inner sanctum. 

His black leather bomber jacket hung on a tree just inside the doorway and as he shrugged into it, he looked over at the photos in silver frames on the credenza behind his desk. He and Toni had three kids; two boys, with their daughter sandwiched between them. The divorce was hitting Flynn, their oldest, the hardest, and with a sigh, Frerin wondered—and not for the first time—if maybe he and Toni should have just stayed together until Jake, their youngest, at least graduated high school. 

No, as tough as things were right now, it was a far healthier environment for the kids than being witness to their parents’ increasingly toxic marriage. He didn't know about Toni, but he knew he was happier. Happier than he’d been in a long time. 

Maybe he should have asked Elena Madison to go and grab a cup of coffee or lunch. 

He glanced over at the desktop computer. He could get her number off one of the forms she’d filled out. But that seemed a little underhanded, so maybe not. 

He sighed softly. Damn it.

By the time he got home Flynn and Maura were up and at the table in the kitchen, not talking over cereal. He came in through the kitchen door, shrugging out of his jacket as he said, “Hey, guys. Your brother up yet?”

“Not yet.” Flynn looked up. “How was your shift?”

“Quiet, for the most part. Just a few kids with the flu.” He moved to the Keurig and fired it up. “Maura, do you know Alyssa Madison?”

“Yeah. She’s in my Algebra class. Why?”

“She came into the ER tonight and said she was a freshman, so I just wondered.”

Maura grinned. “Fourteen’s a little young for you, isn’t it, Dad?”

“Ha ha.” He tugged open the drawer under the Keurig to take out a medium roast blend and popped it into the machine. “Anyway, I was just curious. You two got all your homework done last night, right?”

Flynn rolled his eyes. “You ask us every morning. And what do we tell you?”

“Just making sure.” He took the cup off the base and lifted it for a sip, glanced at the microwave clock over the cup’s rim. “You two better get moving.”

Flynn sighed as he walked over to put his cereal bowl in the dishwasher. “We’ve got time, Dad.”

“Only if you catch all the lights and there’s no traffic.” 

“We’ll be fine.”

“I don't want you rushing, Flynn. You’ve only had your license a few months.”

“Dad.”

He smiled at the exasperation in Flynn’s voice, which was almost as deep as his own. “Okay, I’ll stop with the lecture now. Have a good day, both of you. I’ll see you later.”

He moved back to press a kiss into the top of Maura’s nest of dark curls. “Don’t talk your brother’s ear off. He has to concentrate.”

“I won’t, Dad.” Maura picked up her backpack from the chair in the corner and slung it over her shoulder. “C’mon, Flynn.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He clumped out of the kitchen after his sister and Frerin sighed at the soft silence that settled around him. He had half an hour before he had to wake Jake, and so used that time to sit down and write out bills. Then it was time to wake his youngest and get him off to school as well. All that involved was ushering him out to Frerin’s silver Infiniti and buckling him into the backseat.

“Dad?” Jake asked as Frerin headed along Route Seven toward Sidleburg proper. The intermediate school was on the western side of town

He glanced up at the rearview mirror. “Yeah, bud?”

“Do we have to go to Mom’s this weekend?”

“’Fraid so, little man. It’s her weekend.”

“I don't want to go.”

“Why?”

Jake sighed softly. He looked so much like his mother, with a thick mop of dark red curls and wide hazel eyes, where Flynn and Maura had inherited Frerin’s dark hair and blue eyes. “She has a new boyfriend and he’s kind of a jerk.”

Frerin bit back a sigh of his own. “Well, ignore him if you can. You’re there to spend time with her.”

“I know, but… I’d rather stay home.”

“It’s only two days, Jake.”

“Two really long days, Dad.”

He grinned. “I know, but you’ve got your brother and sister there to keep you company.”

“Is Mom ever coming home?”

Frerin angled into the drop off lane at Sidleburg Intermediate School, where Jake was in the fifth grade before saying, “No, Jake. She’s not. We’ve told you, Mom and Dad aren’t going to be living together any longer. We just can’t, Jake. And it’s better that we don’t—for you, for Maura, for Flynn. For all of us.”

He sighed. “I miss when we were a family.”

“Yeah. I know. And I know it sucks sometimes. But, in the long run, it’s better this way.”

“What if she just told you she was sorry?”

“Jake, some day, you’ll understand why that’s not possible. Grownups are complicated and so are relationships and none of us is perfect.”

Jake unbuckled his seatbelt and shoved open the door. “I’ll see you later, Dad. I have to get to class.”

“Jake, I—” He pressed his lips together as Jake slammed the door and ran off to join up with his friends. Just when he thought the kids were acclimating to all of the changes, one of them reminded him it was an ongoing process, getting used to such a change. 

He sighed as he steered back out of the parking lot and headed home. They weren’t the only ones who needed to be reminded it was a process, getting used to the change. But now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Now, he wanted to go home and get some sleep.

[sanisse]

Celebrimbor and Annatar for Getting Caught, please, if still open. BTW, love your sense of humor.

god i love these two. And thank you!!! 

KINKTOBER 26: GETTING CAUGHT - SILVERGIFTING

spice level:  🌶🌶🌶🌶 (extra hot) warnings/extra tags: mild impact play, toys, mild praise kink (Annatar just wants someone to call him a good boy, okay?), mild eldritch!Annatar

-

Celebrimbor is not quite sure how they ended up with Annatar pinned down on the anvil in the forge. They really had come in here to work on their project, but Annatar’s strange mix of effusive compliments and scathing condescension for his work had driven them both into a frenzy.

As he pins Annatar down by the back of his neck, Annatar hisses out: “Someone is going to see us.”

When Celebrimbor rucks Annatar’s red robes up and finds the toy he’s pushed inside of himself, he presses on it with his thumb until Annatar whimpers, curling his fingers around the edge of the anvil, and suddenly his attitude this morning makes perfect sense.

“You came here to get fucked,” Celebrimbor says, “Do not try to pretend like you are the least bit worried about someone coming across you bent over my anvil. Emissary of the Valar indeed.” 

Annatar hisses something at him that’s half feral, but Celebrimbor can see the blush that spreads to his ears, hear the way his voice dissolves into something distinctly high-pitched and pretty when Celebrimbor pulls the toy out of him and replaces it with his fingers.

“You truly came here for this,” Celebrimbor breathes, because Annatar’s slick too, and so hot, clamping around him until it forces a moan from Celebrimbor’s throat. There is something so bewitchingly wrong about Annatar in the red light of the forge, something alarming that lives beneath his skin, the way his fingers are just a bit too long, the way his pupils shift and split until they almost look like a cat’s. But he is just so pretty, and Elbereth, does Celebrimbor want to fuck him. 

He pushes inside of him right to the hilt in one rough thrust, covering Annatar’s mouth to stifle the musical scream it wrenches out of him.

“Again, do you wish for us to be caught?” 

He snaps his hips, knowing it’s shoving Annatar’s against the unforgiving edge of the anvil, going to leave bruises there: markings of Celebrimbor’s own making. 

Annatar just moans against his hand, eyes fluttering shut. Celebrimbor splays his hand over Annatar’s back, driving into him at the relentless pace they both like, until Annatar’s shaking, wailing, and pushing back to match him stroke for stroke. 

“Such a good boy,” Celebrimbor says, “Gorgeous boy. You feel so magnificent wrapped around my cock. Taking it so well.” 

That wrings another choked sound out of him. He is so very vain and eager-to-please when he wants to be.

Out of the corner of his eye, Celebrimbor sees one of the other smiths standing frozen in the doorway. He just smiles, takes a fistful of Annatar’s hair to point him in the right direction, and whispers:

“Got your wish.” 

Annatar’s eyes widen, spark with a flash-fire of pure lust, and then he comes all over Celebrimbor’s cock with a tortured, choked moan. 

[warpaiint]

⌜ @misfits-of-zaun ⌟ ―― C a i t l y n . & . E k k o ❝ Ekko set his jaw, staring the enforcer down for a long moment. Searching her expression as he stewed on the uncomfortable choice before him, and his conflicting feelings about what to do.

Vi had vouched for her. Vi trusted her - and he'd trusted Vi enough to extend a little tentative trust to Caitlyn, by proxy.

And it had blown up in his face as soon as they'd walked onto the damn bridge.

The only consolation in the wake of it all was that it had clearly been as much of a trap for Caitlyn - she had been just as taken by surprise as him, and in just as much danger. The fact that her own fellow enforcers - her own commanding officer - had been willing to shoot her down with the trencher trash was a pretty clear indication that Caitlyn was who Vi believed she was. Because of course a good enforcer would be gunned down by her corrupt colleagues the second she started sniffing too close to the truth.

The problem was that Caitlyn hadn't recognised the danger until there was a gun pointed in their faces. The problem was that she had believed the Sheriff and the mob of armed enforcers at his back would listen to her, and it had been a shock for her when talking hadn't worked.

Who else did she believe they could talk things out with? Was her friend on the Council really someone they could trust? What if Caitlyn was wrong?

...What alternative was there?

They'd come this far. If he walked away now, all this would have been for nothing, and the bridge full of dead enforcers would be another atrocity to pin on his people - another excuse to hunt them down in the streets.

"...I believe you." The Firelight leader conceded grudgingly at last, after a tense pause.

"If you're still so sure this Council friend of yours can be trusted, then fine - but we're not just strolling in through the front door. The streets will be crawling with your colleagues after that explosion, and we don't know who's in Silco's pocket; shit's too risky. We do this my way."

He slanted his head meaningfully over at the drainage pipe snaking up the side of the nearest building. The rooftops would be their safest bet; he knew from extensive experience. ❞

They didn't have time for this. Caitlyn propped herself up against the ledge of the bridge, as she pressed her hand up against her thigh. The pain ripped against her thigh, sheering like fire as she looked over toward Vi. She wanted to run over to her, grab her and get her to safety but Ekko stood there. Jinx was unconscious, the bomb enough to knock her out (if she was even alive). But the biggest issue was convincing Ekko to come with her, to help Vi and in turn hopefully get all this sorted. Enforcers would be here in ten minutes top, and each second was another moment that ticked away. After a few ten seconds, she finally got an answer.

"thank you," Caitlyn said, as she pushed herself up, trying to ignore the blood seeping from her wound, staining against her purple cloth. "I'll explain why after we get off this bridge. More enforcers are coming and it's better if we get off the streets like you said. My house isn't that far away, we can lay low there," She looked over toward the drainage pipe and gave a quick nod.

She hoped there wasn't too much climbing or movement. Her leg would not handle it well, she'd be limping for the most part while still trying to drag Vi. Grit and willpower were enough to get her up as she reached over to grab Vi's arm and pulled her deadweight upward til she had her arm against her shoulder. Once Ekko had the other side, it lessen the load and she moved with as much speed as she had in her feet. Alarms were already going off, as she followed him down toward the pipe. The gemstone pouch rested over her other shoulder, as she leaned up against the stone and pushed her head back.

"Vi, this would be easier if you woke up," She whispered, though she wasn't about to leave her behind to be framed for this incident.

[tonguetiedraven]

Ok, hear me out. I know it's a bit late but you KNOW we need a 4th of July party onesy

This prompt utterly killed me in the best way. It immediately made me think of Lewin (who I think is the only American) going all out in 4th of July pride, lol. Thank you so much for the mental image and idea. <3 <3 <3 — — — — —

“Come on!” Lewin was practically bouncing up and down as he pleaded with Rin. Shura was standing a few feet back to watch what was guaranteed to be a shit show, and couldn’t help but wish she’d brought some popcorn.

“I don’t get it,” Rin said with a frown. Ryuuji was eyeing both parties like he didn’t trust either of them, which was honestly fair.

“This is going to be a mess.” Izumo sighed, propping her hand on her chin.

“It could be fun,” Shiemi said with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah!” Lightning, sensing a potential ally, spun to face Shiemi. “It is fun! So come on, Rin! Just light a few for me? I wanna see if blue flames do anything.”

“Master, that’s not a good idea.”

“I’m game!” Shima called, sitting down with a burger that Rin had grilled because apparently that was a necessity on the fourth. They hadn’t turned out bad. There was a slightly strange flavor in the meat thanks to the blue flames, but it wasn’t a bad flavor, so Shura chowed down on her own burger.

“You’re not lighting anything!” Ryuuji snapped before turning his gaze back on Lewin and trying to smooth his frustrated expression. “Master, we don’t know what it’ll do. If Rin’s aim is off by even a little—“

That was his damning moment.

“I’ll do it!” Nothing got Rin fired up more quickly than someone telling him it was a bad idea and that he couldn’t/shouldn’t do it.

“Yes!” Lightning fist pumped at the sky and dashed for the box of fireworks before Ryuuji could catch him. The aria didn’t let his master’s fleeing slow him down. He chased right after him, spewing concerns and resistance the entire way. Rin bounced after them both, all smiles as his tail wagged easily through the air.

“Think we’re far enough back?” Izumo asked as Konekomaru brought the melons over. Watermelon was apparently another must. Honestly, this was sounding like a pretty solid holiday to Shura. At least as far the food was concerned.

“For them? Nope. Should be a hella of a show though.”

Shiemi pulled her legs towards herself and hugged her arms around them in a way that looked nervous, but wasn’t. Shura knew it meant the girl was loosening up now and letting herself act comfortably. Shura watched them all sprawl out together, laughing a little as Izumo readied her summoning strips and Yukio switched his bullets out for the naiad ones, and grabbed up a few slices of melon. They were sweet as she bit into them, and she didn’t care that it made juice drip down her arms. Lightning was setting up a firework now, with Ryuuji puppy guarding the rest with Varuna his water spirit so that nothing bad happened while Rin did a few stretches like he was about to do some serious athletic challenge instead of using his flames to light a fuse on a firework.

“Alright, everyone. Get ready. Also, pretty sure these are illegal over here. So. You know. If someone comes, it’s everyone for themselves.”

“What?!”

“Light it!” Lewin called, ignoring the alarmed cries.

Rin took a step forward, and then, like the utter dork he was, he moved his fingers into the shape of a gun and pretended to fire a shot, sending a small blue spark to ignite the fuse. It hit the target perfectly, and Rin shot both arms in the air in triumph.

“Get back, idiot!” Ryuuji called, waving his arm frantically. Rin blinked, yelped, and flung himself towards Yukio who squawked in indignation as he was knocked backwards. A moment later, the entire sky seemed to explode in a burst of reds, blues, and whites. It seemed to go on forever, far larger and brighter than she’d expected. Loud as hell, and beautiful.

“Wow!” Rin gushed, gazing up with stars in his eyes as Yukio spat dirt out and Renzou laughed.

“Alright,” Ryuuji said when it was over and they were all still staring up at the sky in quiet pleasure. “You can set off another one.”

Lewin gave him a knowing grin and motioned towards another big one.

“Happy America day!” Rin exclaimed as he bounced to his feet and bounded towards the second firework.

Shura snorted and grabbed another melon. Happy America day indeed.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Protector

Chapter One

Chapter Two:

Turns out, Virgil did not know how to make pancakes.  Granted, his and Remus’ general diet consisted of “whatever one of them could grab before someone else showed up in the kitchen.”  And it was totally unfair that you had to know basic things about cooking to be able to follow a recipe.  How was Virgil supposed to know you had to hold a hand mixer once you turned it on so everything didn’t spray all over the counter?

Either way, he eventually managed to get the batter done, and then set what he was pretty sure was a pan on the stove before pausing.

The stove.  The thing that cooked with fire.  Which Virgil had never used before.  Virgil looked at the bowl of batter and then back at the stove.  “Maybe this is a bad idea,” he said to himself.

“What’s a bad idea, kiddo?”

Virgil yelped and spun around to find Patton rubbing his eyes in the kitchen doorway.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, shifting to try and cover the batter and the pan as best he could.

“I was coming to make breakfast for everyone,” Patton said.  “But I heard you say something was a bad idea.  You alright, kiddo?”

“I thought I told you not to call me— I mean, why yes, Patton, why wouldn’t I be alright?” Virgil said, folding his hands in front of him and smiling as wide as he dared without looking ridiculous or suspicious.

Patton still seemed confused, however, so he probably didn’t seem as natural as he should have.  “Um, no reason, I suppose.  You just said that something sounded like a bad idea.  Do you need some help?”

Virgil breathed slowly out through his nose while continuing to smile.  “Yes, Patton, that would be lovely,” he said through gritted teeth.  “I thought it would be nice if I were to make pancakes for everyone on my first day here.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely kiddo!” Patton said happily.  “Here, you want me to get the griddle out?”

Virgil blinked.  “The what?”

“Well, it’s easier to cook pancakes on a griddle than in a pan since you can cook more of them at once,” Patton said, heading over to the other side of the kitchen and opening one of the lower cabinets.  He pulled out a long black rectangle with a cord, moved to put it over on the counter, and plugged it in.

Virgil decided to ignore the fact that he had never seen a griddle in his life and walked up to the side of Patton as he turned a dial.

“That’ll need a minute to heat up,” Patton said.  “Do you want to, uh, clean up in the meantime?”

Virgil shoved down the embarrassment at the mess so it wouldn’t be visible and nodded.

Patton opened a drawer to his left and pulled out two rags.  He walked over to the sink and got them both wet, then handed one to Virgil.  Virgil started wiping up some of the spilled batter, and did his best to ignore Patton doing the same.  He didn’t want to see whatever look was on his face.  It would either be pity, or confusion, or disgust, but they would all result in the same thing, which was making Virgil feel humiliated.  He had his reasons for not knowing how to cook, but even if Patton knew that it wouldn’t make him feel any less pathetic.

By the time they finished cleaning up the spilled batter and washing the rags off in the sink, the griddle had heated up and Patton looked over at Virgil.

“Do you want to pour the pancakes since it was your idea?”

Virgil looked at the bowl of batter, which suddenly felt like an olympic level challenge.  But it’s not like he was going to let Patton cook the entire meal for him.  The whole point was to get on these idiots’ good sides.

Virgil bit his lip.  “Absolutely, yes,” he said.  “I will… pick up the bowl, and then pour the batter… onto the griddle.  I will do that.”

“Sounds great,” Patton said, giving him a slightly confused smile.  “Go ahead?”

Virgil stepped forward and picked up the batter.  He tipped it over slightly and started pouring the batter onto the griddle.  Unfortunately, he had absolutely no idea when to stop, meaning that after a couple seconds Patton cried out in alarm and leapt out to pull the bowl back, unfortunately not with enough time to stop half the griddle from being covered with batter.

Well, clearly Virgil should now call the whole thing off and just sink out to his room in shame.  There was no way to recover from this, everyone was going to hate him forever and Remus would be stuck in the other mindscape until Malice murdered him.  He was a little surprised Patton wasn’t already screaming at him or glaring in disgust.

Instead, Patton just set the bowl of batter down and moved off to the side to grab a spatula.

“Kiddo,” he said slowly.  “Have you ever made pancakes before?”

“Yes,” Virgil said instantly.  “Many times.  I just like mine… really really big.”

Patton looked like he could see right through that, but for some reason, he still didn’t call him out on it.  “Okay,” he said.  “Well kiddo, you probably should have made more batter if that was the case.  “Do you mind if I split these up a little bit with the spatula once they’re a little more solid, just so there’s enough for everyone?”

“That’s fine,” Virgil mumbled, looking away so he wouldn’t have to look at Patton anymore.

Patton, who clearly knew what he was doing and should have just made the whole breakfast in the first fucking place, did manage to split up Virgil’s goliath pancake in order to make four very weirdly shaped ones.

Virgil tensed, not sure what he would do next, but all that happened was Patton said lightly, “Do you mind if I show you the size the rest of us prefer?”

“That’s fine,” Virgil muttered, equal parts relieved and ready for this whole situation to be over and done with.  He still kept a close watch on Patton as he poured the next pancake though, and timed how long it took him to finish making an appropriately sized one.

“That’s about how big I tend to make them,” Patton said, giving Virgil a small smile.  “Would you like to try?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Virgil snapped, before he caught himself and squeezed his eyes shut.  “I mean, yes, thank you for the… help.”

Patton didn’t say anything, which was a relief, and after a second Virgil opened his eyes and took the bowl back.  This time he managed to make a reasonably sized pancake, about the last one that would fit on the griddle before they ran out of space.

“That looks good, kiddo,” Patton said.  “And this was a really sweet idea, thank you.”

Virgil looked away so Patton wouldn’t see him glaring as he said, “It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, I appreciate that kiddo, but you don’t owe us anything,” Patton said.

Yeah, I sure as hell don’t, Virgil didn’t say.  He could do this.  Getting Remus over here was more important than his pride when it came to all of the things the core sides owed him.

“Um, what exactly is going on here?” came from the doorway before Virgil could formulate an actual response.

Virgil turned to see Roman standing there, arms crossed and looking very displeased with the situation.

“Anxiety made us all pancakes for breakfast!” Patton said brightly.  “Or, they’re still being cooked, but it was his idea!  These should probably be flipped.”

Patton turned and picked up the spatula, and Virgil watched very closely as he flipped a couple before turning to Virgil in surprise.  “Oh!  I’m sorry kiddo, I just took over!  I guess I’m pretty used to making breakfast.  Did you want to flip these?”

Virgil tried to hide the slightly suspicious look he gave Patton, not wanting to seem rude but not sure what exactly he was playing at.  Patton, however, just kept smiling at him, so finally Virgil took the spatula and managed to flip the rest of the pancakes.  He definitely did so much more competently than he would have been able to otherwise.

“You said Count Woe-laf decided to make us breakfast?” Roman said, walking over towards them and looking suspiciously down at the griddle, not bothering to hide his look at all.  “Alright, what did you poison them with?”

“Roman!” Patton said.  “Don’t be rude!  He’s just trying to do a nice thing for us!”

“Why would he do that?” Roman exclaimed.  “He’s been nothing but antagonistic since we met him!”

“Well, we are going to be living together now,” Virgil said.  “I figured trying to get along with you all would be better than making it a miserable experience for everyone.”

Roman gave him a deeply suspicious look.  Virgil returned as nice a smile as he could manage before turning back to face the pancakes.

He wasn’t entirely sure when he was supposed to flip them again, but luckily Patton made a comment about how he imagined the Duke liked his pancakes pretty burned, but everyone else would probably prefer he take them off now.

By this point Virgil was pretty sure Patton knew exactly what was going on and was just trying to cover for him, which Virgil would admit was nice of him but still made him feel rather pitied.  The alternative of having to directly ask for help wasn’t better though, so he supposed he’d take what he could get.

(And honestly, Virgil wouldn’t have been surprised if Remus did prefer his pancakes burned.)

Logan arrived in the kitchen next, and Patton moved over to hand him a cup of coffee that Virgil hadn’t even seen him make.  He’d been planning on trying to squeeze oranges for juice, but he had his hands full with the pancakes now, and he would have had no clue how to make anyone coffee.

“Anxiety,” Logan said in surprise when he noticed Virgil.  “You’re making pancakes?”

“Yeah, I figured it’d be nice, just, y’know, for my first day here,” Virgil said.  He got the last pancake off and put it on the plate Patton had set next to the griddle.  Patton showed up to smile at him and take the plate with the first batch over to the table, and Virgil turned back to the bowl to pour the next batch of pancakes on the griddle.

Making the second batch went much easier than the first, and Virgil used the time he had while doing so to settle into the room and get used to the pleasant chatter from everyone else.  It felt weird to just… stand in the kitchen, and not have to worry about someone coming up behind him to knock him unconscious and drag him to a torture room for the rest of the day.  He couldn’t quite banish the thought completely, but it was definitely quieter.  The others already being there was probably helping.

Finally, he finished making the second batch of pancakes and set them on a plate to carry them to the table.  He turned the dial back to zero and unplugged the griddle first, then picked up the plate and set it in the center.

He was about to step back and let everyone eat when Patton smiled at him and waved him towards one of the two empty chairs.  “Come on Anxiety, sit and eat.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Roman grumbled.

“Roman,” Patton said, giving him a warning look.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll eat in my room later,” Virgil said, moving back to lean against the counter.

“In your room?” Patton asked, giving him a confused look.

“That’s not typically a place for eating,” Logan said, glancing up from his plate and raising an eyebrow at him.

Virgil swallowed.  “Right,” he said weakly.  “Of course.  I just, uh…”

“If anyone talks to me before noon they’ll live to regret it,” came a voice from the doorway, and Virgil glanced over to see Janus walking in, looking very much like he wanted to still be sleeping.

“Good morning, Janus,” Patton called brightly, not seeming to take his comment seriously in the slightest.  “Anxiety made us all pancakes.”

Janus looked over at Virgil, his gaze either suspicious or just really tired.  “What’d you do that for?”

“I just thought it might be nice,” Virgil said, folding his hands in front of him and hunching his shoulders slightly.  “For my first day here.”

Janus clearly didn’t believe that answer, but he also looked too tired to really argue, so he just moved to sit in the other empty seat across from the one that was apparently supposed to be Virgil’s.

“Here’s your coffee Jan,” Patton said, passing another mug across the table.

Janus grumbled some kind of thanks and took a long drink from the mug.

Patton turned back to Virgil and smiled again.  “Anxiety, do you want to come sit?”

Virgil swallowed.  He didn’t want to look weird, or to cause suspicion.  If it wasn’t normal to eat in his room, he’d have to stomach the nerves and sit down.

As quickly as he dared, he moved across the kitchen and sat down at the table.  Patton gestured at the plate of pancakes, so Virgil took two of them.  He then stared down at the fork and knife that he had no idea how to use.

“Do you want syrup or powdered sugar, kiddo?” Patton asked.  Virgil glanced over at the two things offered.  One was a liquid that read syrup on the front, the other white powder that looked similar to the flour he’d used to make the batter.  He took the powder and set it down next to his plate, then turned back to the pancakes.

He took a short breath, and before he could think too much about it, picked up the pancakes and started ripping them into smaller pieces.

Virgil felt the gaze of everyone else at the table, which he pointedly ignored despite the way his cheeks started heating up.  Once he’d torn the pancakes into appropriately bite sized pieces, he used the fork to scoop out a little bit of the powdered sugar onto the pancakes.  He kept his gaze down while he took a bite.

As soon as he finished one bite, however, he had to stop himself from scarfing the rest down as quickly as he possibly could.  He’d never tasted anything this good.

“You like them, kiddo?” Patton asked, as if it was him who’d made them and not Virgil.  Virgil nodded anyway.

“Good!  I think you did a great job, these are delicious!  Thanks for making them for us, Anxiety!”

“They are indeed quite adequate,” Logan said.  “Thank you, Anxiety.”

“They’re alright,” Roman grumbled, not sounding happy to admit it.

Janus didn’t say anything, and just kept eating the pancakes.

“Okay!” Patton said, clapping his hands together and successfully dispelling the tension.  “So, we didn’t really get much of a chance to talk yesterday, kiddo, but we were thinking today we’d go and talk to Thomas and figure out how we’re going to do these upcoming videos.  Does that sound okay?”

“Sounds just great,” Virgil said, smiling back at Patton, hopefully not too wide to the point of causing suspicion.

He didn’t really succeed on that front, as both Janus and Roman gave him looks.  They only lasted a second, however, before they turned back to the pancakes that everyone seemed to enjoy.

So, not the best start, but it definitely could have gone a lot worse.  He’d have to figure out how to be agreeable and helpful with Thomas later, but otherwise this was working.

He’d have Remus back in no time.  He just had to stomach being nice to a bunch of idiots for a while.  He could do this.

...

Chapter Three

[sylseal]

Divine Contest (Superhero Fiction, 2.8k)

You stumbled backwards, landing on your ass while still trying to get your bearings. Someone had just hit you--hard. Hard enough to break your nose, you were pretty sure, and more than hard enough to send you sprawling. When you looked up again, you realized with startling alarm-

It was Michaela.

"You know," they said, before approaching and landing a kick straight to your chest, one that sent you flying into the school building's wall and causing it to crack a little, "I really don't understand how we could have had even a slight miscommunication here." You thought you heard footsteps, but couldn't be sure through the delirious state you were in, "I mean, really; all I wanted was to help you not have to wear that idiotic collar anymore, but you had to get all uppity and say 'no!'" they snorted, and as you got your bearings--and dear gods, you had broken a rib for sure-- your gaze eventually landed on them.

They stood, tall and proud, in the same clothes you had seen them in, but now their scar was glowing--bright, almost too-bright blue. Some part of you, deep inside, knew what that meant.

In a flash, they were on you, grabbing you by the arm and wrenching your hand upwards. Knowing what they were after, you went to punch them in the face, then the side, but you might as well have been fighting a wall for all the good it did. In moments, they produced the ring from your meeting with them, and then they slid it onto your finger...

...And there was no immediate effect. You took the moment to hit them in the face again. This time, you managed to catch them off guard enough to land a solid hit.

"Agh, you little-!" they grumbled, and lifted you before socking you in the stomach, hard enough to where it felt like your whole body folded. "Stay still," they hissed, "it must be the collar. Causing interference, still..." panic washed over you as their hands reached for your collar. Sadly, the wind having been knocked out of you meant that you didn't have much in the way of strength to stop them as they grabbed onto the ring of metal. It was built so that not even people with super strength could tear it apart, but somehow, that didn't settle your panic.

Indeed, Michaela seemed not to care about the resistance the collar gave them. They grit their teeth, and you watched their hair billow as their scar glowed, spiraling back over their left shoulder and down their back. As it did so, you saw their head shift, and stretch, and even break into a new shape:

They now had the head of a lion.

Michaela's body began glowing, and you saw their flesh turn an electric blue, and their arms morph into something between a bear's and normal human arms--complete with terrifying claws on the fingers. And it was as this happened that you heard a sound that sent chills up your spine.

Cr-ack! Ker-chnk!

It was the collar. It came apart, and Michaela yanked it away from you, just as you found the strength to try and reach out in vain to grab it from them. In what you could only describe as hideous laughter, they threw the two pieces of the collar aside and backed up, with what you could only imagine the lion version of a sneer was on their face.

"Finally!" they shouted, their voice not quite their own, "Let it out! Let the power flow from you into me! LET ME DEVOUR THE SUN!" You could feel Tiamat's power building in you... only for you to then feel it leave your body; flowing into the ring, you guessed. You tried to take it off, pulling as hard as you could, finger feeling like it was on fire from how much the metal was digging into it...but to no avail. The ring just wouldn't come off, and by now your brain was in full panic mode.

You weren't transforming, you weren't feeling the symptoms anymore. You just felt every bit of energy you had get siphoned into the ring. You fell to your knees, weak and whimpering, as you saw Michaela lift their hands to the sky. Suddenly, a planet appeared, huge and all-encompassing, in the skies above. There was no mistaking the red lines, the streaks; it was the planet Jupiter.

Weakly, you tried to make it to your feet, and those whispers in the back of your head began to start again. You didn't have the strength to shut them out as they unified into one voice, all but surging into your throbbing head.

...llllLLLLISTEN.

Your hands gripped the sides of your head in pain as the voice resounded, stronger than you'd ever heard it before, as if it were trying to ensure you couldn't shut it out.

ARRANGEMENT. UNIFY. OVERCOME.

You weren't a fool, so you got the point pretty quick; it wanted to strike a deal, and work together to stop Michaela.

"I will agree to stop resisting your influence, and stop shutting you out," you hissed through the pain of feeling like something was pressing red-hot iron against your very brain, "if you agree to only make me transform on my watch, and not try and destroy the world whenever we do. Those are my terms."

It was a frustratingly long time before you got a response, even though, truthfully, it was only a second, maybe two. It was long enough for Michaela to realize something was happening, and in one of their oversized bear-person hands, a lightning bolt struck, and they caught it, and were holding onto it. At that instant, you felt in your mind,

...AGREED. SMITE THE HERETIC.

Your body felt the buildup again, suddenly, and your skin around your ring finger, just under the magic ring, grew hotter and hotter; it was just a little power, but it was enough, as the ring turned orange hot, and melted off of your finger. In that instant, you were free; you felt alive like never before, as you and this thing you had fought for so long came together. Sunlight flooded your veins and fire surged in your belly, swirling into an inferno inside your heart. The power that had for so long been your adversary, it was now yours, finally.

You breathed deep, and had an epiphany in that moment. Your flesh turned to be akin to molten steel as you realized that Tiamat's domain was in all things. Your fingers became like the claws of a badger, as you realized that meant that your domain was in all things. All the animals of the earth, all the fish in the oceans, and of course, all the birds of the skies, they obeyed your every command. Antlers grew from your skull, as you realized your domain was in the way the volcanoes sprouted, the way that the waters eroded the mountains, the way the trees grew around the rivers and the lakes. The earth, the sea, and the sky in all their forms, were yours. A tail sprouted from your lower back, and you stepped forwards, as you knew then that this, this feeling, the power flowing through you, all of it was your destiny. It was not known how, but you had always known, one day, that you would become this. A small orb of light, like the sun itself, appeared between your antlers, above your head, held in place by said antlers like in depictions of the goddess Isis.

Michaela hurled their bolt of lightning at you--you lifted a hand and caught it, the momentum causing you to start moving backwards, only for you to stabilize yourself on digitigrade legs, and for you to halt the momentum completely as two gorgeous, flaming wings with feathers of pure, coronal starlight emerged from your back. You continued stepping forwards.

Indeed, you looked up at Michaela with the skull of an Elk, eyes burning red like coals, as you finally found your rhythm, with you and Tiamat united as one. Michaela looked horrified.

GOOD. You and Tiamat thought in unison. The lightning bolt vanished from your hand, and reformed in Michaela's as you drew closer to them. They were looking for a weakness, which gave you a little time to notice something beyond just the fight before you. Namely, that several superheroes were starting their approach, having sensed this swell in power. They couldn't be allowed to interfere, there was too much risk of them getting hurt. So, you lifted one arm and twisted your wrist, you willed volcanic earth to form into a huge dome-like barrier around you and Michaela, with a roof of some sort of glassy material that let sunlight pour into the arena.

"A much more fitting stage for this little divine contest of yours, wouldn't you say, MIchaela?" Your voice rang out, not entirely your own, but also feeling more like your own than it ever had before. The bolt of lightning in Michaela's hand flashed as it transformed into a much more recognizable shape; a hammer, straight out of mythology. You grinned, and with a small flexing of your willpower, both pieces of your collar shot towards your hand, prompting you to catch them.

"What are you doing with that?" Michaela taunted, with a smirk, "Plan to put it back on?" They twirled the hammer in their hand though, still looking poised to attack. You snorted in reply, and then, power still flowing through you, you willed this strange metal that had once caged you to bend, and morph to your will. It surrendered easily, melting under your heat into one singular piece--and then, you shaped it into a new form: the head of a spear, a small blade that could nullify the powers of whatever poor creature it happened to strike. Next, you threw the spear head into the ground, and willed the power of the earth to obey you, causing the spearhead to re-emerge, with a great body of metal and wood made just for it. Grinning with satisfaction, you took the spear in one hand, ready to use it as if you had used one all your life. A gift of knowledge from Tiamat, perhaps?

Either way, this all happened in mere moments, finishing just as Michaela sought to stop you by throwing the hammer at you.

"It's a little something called tactics, dear," you hissed, responding to their taunt at last as, with your new spear, you twirled around and easily cracked the hammer off-kilter as it rocketed towards you, causing the weapon to streak off to the side, before flying back to Michaela's hand. They roared like a lion and charged you, hammer raised in a swing from the side. You saw it coming, and dodged just out of the way, feeling the wind and electricity kiss your skin. Then, in that instant, you slammed the butt of the spear into Michaela's stomach.

They groaned in pain, and you took advantage of their momentary recoil to move around the side of them. With one hand, you brought the spear across in a harsh slash across Michaela's side, then moved behind them. "Maybe you should be conscious of your speed," you grinned in a taunt of your own, "You're so slow I could read you like a book." The slash must have hurt more than most hits they'd taken, because they snarled and jumped away from you, holding their side and still wielding their hammer.

They seemed to be sizing you up, and began circling you once more, prompting you to do the same, spear still in hand. You shifted to a two-handed stance. They realized, seemingly, that if they were going to kill you, they'd have to find a way to overcome the speed obstacle. With a roar of effort, they slammed their hammer into the ground, causing a bright flash. While it didn't hurt your eyes, you momentarily couldn't see, and when you blinked, you suddenly saw three Michaelas before you. They didn't give you time to figure out which was which, and all three came in, attacking at different angles and in different ways.

Drawing upon the power that flooded your veins, you hissed and flexed out your wings, while also causing the sun above your head to become blindingly bright. It didn't seem to affect the Michaelas much, which didn't surprise you, but that was never the point. Instead, you looked down--

--and only the right one cast a shadow.

Turning, you ignored the other two, and focused on the one on the right. Michaela was coming in for an overhead swing this time, putting all her power into one attack. You braced the spear in your hands, and came in close and low just as the hammer was coming down. Without a moment's hesitation, you rammed the head of the spear deep into Michaela's chest, and her own momentum only pushed it deeper in. Her momentum came grinding to a halt as she let out a weak little groan.

There was a moment of pure silence, after. Both of you knew it was done, now. You'd struck her heart.

"H..." Michaela weakly whispered, transforming back into a person involuntarily, "...how did you do it? With the ring...? The enchantment was supposed to be unbreakable, and the ring couldn't be pulled off..."

"That part," you growled, "Was easier than you might think. I didn't pull the ring off. Tiamat and I managed to squirrel away enough power to turn my skin as hot as lava, and that melted the ring. The enchantment on the ring didn't break--the ring itself did."

"That's..." Michaela laughed, "...they told me the enchantment was unbreakable, but said nothing about the ring, huh...? I wonder if they set me up for this..."

"Who's they?" You hissed, and Michaela shook her head,

"I'm not the only one. The only champion. There are other celestial beings out there, and they all have champions. Some are a lot better at magic than you or I." They groaned, grabbing onto your shoulder and coughing up blood, "K-keep the hammer, and keep your eyes open, huh..?" they grinned at you, "I'd hate for you to beat me, only to get flattened by...the...the next one..."

And then, quietly, they slumped over on top of you and your spear, gone. Their hammer dropped to the ground, and you, with a surprising amount of respect, pulled out the spear and laid them on the ground. Without a word, you brought down the dome, and gently went to pick up the hammer from the ground. It had been their last wish, after all...

Over the course of the next several days, you gave your account to the police and Sumacil, where you explained the deal you had made with Tiamat, as well as what Michaela had told you; the Sun was not the only cosmic egg out there, and others were vying for its place as the dominant cosmic entity on earth.

Michaela had been the champion of Jupiter, but you suspected there were others out there, too. Michaela told you to keep the hammer, so you intended to do so, and you would also be on the lookout for other champions. By this point, Sumacil was not entirely comfortable with the deal with Tiamat, but they knew that so long as you had something worked out and you weren't actively causing a worldwide disaster, you could be left alone...to a degree. You knew they had spies watching and following you, and that there was a metaphorical crosshair on your head at all times should you go rogue in any capacity.

Three weeks of normalcy went by, and it was at the end of the third week that you finally felt okay enough to settle down, and actually start interacting with Michaela's hammer, which you had stowed away in your closet. You put it on your bed, and sat across from it, staring at it, like a dog staring down a strange new animal in the house for the first time. You weren't sure quite what to do with it; hell, you were afraid to even touch it.

Still...you felt drawn to it. Gently, you reached your fingers out to it...and your eyes lit up as sparks of blue lightning found your fingertips from the grip of the hammer. You lifted it easily, and alongside Tiamat, you felt another presence in your mind. It didn't say anything, but it was there enough for you to realize what it meant.

You weren't just the champion of one cosmic entity anymore. Now, you were the champion of two.

[chaoticgremlinwholikescheese]

What You Sacrifice

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Rape/Non-Con

Whump

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

it gets pretty dark but will have a happy ending

Everyone lives

Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley

Protective Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)

Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Protective Evan "Buck" Buckley

Hostage Situations

Kidnapping

It should be so simple. Boil some water, put the pasta in, and you're done. So how is it possible that Eddie is messing up pasta? He somehow managed to light it on fire. He's a firefighter for God's sake, he shouldn't be having this issue. It's as embarrassing as it is annoying. He just wanted to help Bobby, and now he's staring down at a pot of burned-to-a-crisp noodles.

"Bobby, I am so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, kid. I'll start a new batch. Why don't you go get Buck?"

Eddie easily takes the out. Buck and Chris are right, he's cursed in the kitchen. He finds Buck sitting on the couch with a book in his hands. It's a new one he started about frogs. He's reading it both out of interest and so he can help Chris with a school project. Back in his day, they had to dissect the frogs. Thankfully now they just have to do some research papers on them. Eddie always hated doing the dissections. Eddie collapses next to Buck, purposely taking up as much space as possible. Buck scrunches up his long legs and shoots him a smile before laying them on top of Eddie's lap.

"I don't believe in curses. But I'm seriously starting to think that I may have a kitchen curse."

"Oh, you totally have a curse. I don't think I've ever met someone who's failed at making pasta."

"I swear, if it weren't for you, Chris wouldn't know what actual food tastes like."

"Hey, he was subjected to your cooking for years, and he turned out just fine."

"But now he's corrupted by your delicious food. He'll never go back to eating my cooking again."

"Good. Cause that means you have a reason to keep me around." He smiles.

"Don't worry, I'm always keeping you around. You're stuck with me."

Buck blushes. Eddie loves that he can make Buck blush. It's adorable, the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears get bright red. And Eddie knows that the flush goes lower as well, but that's something to think about after work. Right now he has to stay professional. That doesn't stop him from giving Buck's leg a quick squeeze. Bobby calls everyone over for dinner. They all sit down at the table, Chimney immediately grabbing the pasta and spooning some onto his plate.

"I can't believe Eddie failed at making pasta," Hen laughs.

"He even managed to set it on fire. Isn't it submerged in water?" Chim adds before stuffing some food into his mouth.

"I tried! That's what matters!"

They playfully squabble through the rest of dinner. These family dinners are always nice. Filled with gentle ribbing, laughter, and good food. It's wonderful. Buck always finds himself at ease here. Being surrounded by love is one of the best feelings in the world.

They're halfway through cleaning up from dinner when the alarm rings. They quickly make their way into their gear and down to the rig. All of it is habit by now, done with ease and certainty. They even have assigned places in the truck. Buck and Eddie always sit next to each other, legs touching.

"We've got a call for a fire at an abandoned warehouse. Caller said they saw some flames, smelled smoke. The place should be empty, but we'll need to run through and make sure. Eddie, Buck, you'll do that while the rest of us get control of the fire. I don't know what's inside the place, so I want you to be fast."

They all nod at Bobby's words. The moment the truck stops, they hop into action. Buck and Eddie pull on their gear and run towards the flames. The door to the warehouse is already open, a loose chain hanging from the handle. The lock lays on the ground nearby. The two of them enter and call out. They receive no response. The flames are getting higher, igniting boxes of mystery things as it travels.

"LAFD! Call out!" Buck shouts again.

"Over here!"

The voice is coming from an open door on the other side of the room. It must lead to another section of the warehouse. Buck immediately runs ahead, Eddie quickly following after him. Buck bursts through the door. His eyes land on a man standing against the wall. He looks unharmed. He's about to ask if the man is okay when he sees the glint of metal. A gun emerges from the man's pocket, and he aims it at the center of Buck's chest. He puts his hands up to show he means no harm. Eddie bumps into his back, but stops when he sees the weapon. Buck can feel him tense.

Two more men emerge from the shadows. Both have guns. They cluster behind the first man, who seems to be the leader. He's wearing a navy coat. It's a brand that Buck recognizes but can't quite name. One of the other men has an eagle tattoo going up his arm, and the third one is wearing a stained jean jacket. Before, it could have been possible to take the boss down. But now it's stupid to even think of trying.

"Sir, we're here to help. We need to get you all out of here." Buck's voice doesn't waver. He needs to stay calm. Plus, it's not the first time he's been held at gunpoint. At least this time he's in a position where he can shield Eddie if he needs to.

READ THE REST ON AO3

[funnywiccanwritingcorner]

Le Joyau le plus precieux

A Lucky Luke Modern!AU fanfiction

Chapter XVI - Miss Smith

-Let's go back to the points of the plan.- Early in the morning, Joe and Luke had started to study the plans of what they understood to be an underground base: an external first floor served as the entrance, but most of the structure had been built at the bottom, counting some ten floors joined by two lifts, one on the north side and one on the south side. The names of the various rooms, in Cyrillic, were those of the time of construction: the lowest level was the prison, above it two floors constituted the soldiers' quarters, another the kitchen and canteen; the common room, armoury and officers' quarters were located higher up. Below the entrance was an empty level, simply called "ST", and Lucky suggested that it would probably be used as a reception area for guests.

-The only way to get from one floor to another are these lifts. Assuming they're guarded, the only way to get Mason out is to create a diversion; but before that: how do we get him away from the party?- -I can take care of that, Joe. I brought my best costumes for that.- -Good. And for the guards?- Lucky stared at the computer screen for a long time. -The fire alarm? That could be a great distraction.- -No. We cannot predict the reactions of the guests. If they blocked the entrance to the lifts en masse, that would be trouble. Hmm... What about trying to get out more discreetly using Mason of all people?- -Explain yourself better.- -The dungeons...- Joe pressed the button to zoomed in on the plan on the screen from the keyboard, -they're ideal for storing items to sell. If we could convince Mason to take us there for a quick preview, let's call it that, he'd have to take us down in the lift. But once we're there, we'll stun him, get him back into the cabin and ride up to the main entrance, moving in the shadows with our man; from there, stealing a vehicle and slipping out should be easy. What do you think?- -That sounds like a good plan. We have to make it foolproof, though.- Someone knocked on the door of the room; a boy's voice announced something in Russian.

-I'll go.- Lucky opened the door, tipped what Dalton identified as a bellhop, thanked him, and returned with a yellow paper bag in his hand. -What is it?- -Our ticket, literally. I contacted an old friend who owed me a favour; in here is our invitation to the auction.- -Is it a fake?- -Only for the names. Let's say that honour among thieves is not dead yet.- He left the envelope on the table, next to the computer: -I'll go prepare our disguises.-

Curious, the detective immediately opened the yellow paper with his index finger and pulled out a white card with a gold border. In the centre was written in fine cursive "Miss Aether Smith and companion". -Hey, Luke, how come there's a woman's name here?- asked Joe, looking up just in time to see the other pull a dark red dress with shoulder pads out of the suitcase: -How do you say?- -But... What about that?- -It's my disguise.- -Are you joking?- -No. It's the best option to get Mason to do what we want; he has a thing for pretty girls.- -How do we deal with the fact that you don't exactly have a female voice?- -That's where Nat's technology comes in.- From the suitcase he took a silver necklace with a large diamond in the centre: -Inside the gem there's a voice converter connected wirelessly to a waterproof microphone to be placed under the tongue. Once calibrated, it will transform my voice into that of a woman.-

-Ah. Ingenious. And what will you do for the body?- -Body?- -You're thin and have no curves.- -Oh. For that I have the right "padding". If you give me some time to change, I'm sure I'll amaze you.- -It'll be a sight to see how you try to pull up your stockings!- Dalton joked, but Lucky denied him with his forefinger: -I'm going to the bathroom; it's a delicate operation.- -Whatever. One last question, though: what is that "companion" supposed to stand for?- -Bodyguard. A rich, lonely young woman at a party is likely to have unwanted encounters, don't you think?- he joked. -Just as long as you don't make me wear weird wigs.- -An Afro with curls, for example?-The ex-agent chuckled. -Don't worry, I was thinking of something more discreet.-

-Good.- The Skype icon flashed on the computer screen, and when Joe went to open it, the big smiling faces of his brothers filled the entire webcam window, then they exclaimed: -Hey!!!- -I only see your noses. How's it going?- -Everything's fine!- said Averell, and then turned to his own right, -Come on, Betty, we made it!- -I'm coming!-The psychologist's voice anticipated his entry into the field of vision: -Hi!- -How is the plan going?- William asked. -We are putting the finishing touches before we go into action. Less than four days to go now.- -You know, the boss started asking questions about your absence- said Jack, a little worried, -We told him that you're following a lead on Lucky Luke and that you're checking its validity, like you told us to do.- -Good. Keep telling everyone that. But let's change the subject; Averell, Betty: you have something different.- The two of them took each other by the hand: -Actually, Joe, something has happened!- exclaimed the younger man, and she brought her left hand closer to the screen: a pretty little diamond ring was showing off around her ring finger. Joe's jaw seemed to almost drop in surprise, and he slowly smiled as he recovered: -Nooo... That's my little brother! So now it's official!- -Yes!- exclaimed Betty, bursting with joy from every pore and hugging her boyfriend. -But how? I go away for a day and there you get married?- -It's just the proposal, Joe- retorted Jack. -Whatever.- -We still have to decide the date and other details- continued Averell, -but we've already decided that all three of you will be my groomsmen!-

Before Dalton could answer, Lucky called him from the bathroom: -Joe! Can you come in for a moment?- -Excuse me guys, I'll just be a minute.- -Go ahead, we have to get back to work anyway- said William, -Catch you later!-

-See you later.- He closed the window and joined the other: -What's going on?-He was wide-eyed at seeing Luke wearing that suit. He had already adjusted the chest and bottom prostheses, as well as pulled up the smoky grey tights; the heels that matched the dress lay dishevelled next to the dirty laundry basket. Neatly arranged on the sink top were make-up and three women's wigs in different colours. Lucky's back was to him, and he did not see his expression. -The zip on the dress is jammed; will you help me?- the ex-agent continued, holding up the bodice of the dress. Without saying a word, Joe walked over to him and started fiddling with the little zip that just wouldn't budge. Eventually, however, he managed to slide it upwards: -Done.- -Thank you very much. One last thing.- Still without looking at him, he pointed to the wigs: -Which one inspires you more? A saucy blonde or a seductive brunette?- -Uh... Brunette. I don't see you as blonde.- -Good.- When he finally turned towards the detective, he noticed that he had a strange face: -Are you all right? You're all red.- Without answering, Dalton walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him, then inhaled deeply and exhaled forcefully, undecided whether to collapse or burst out laughing.

-This damn rain just won't stop...- Joe looked out of the room window with a frown. -Good thing the hotel allows us to order from outside, or we'd have to skip lunch.‖ Lucky, changing again, grabbed his mobile phone: -I'll check which restaurants do take-out menus.- Dalton didn't answer him, going to sit on the bed and rummage through his suitcase: -You could test Nat's microphone while you're at it.- -Good idea.- The detective found the pack of cards he was sure he had brought with him, and taking them out of the box began to shuffle them. His back was turned to the other, but he heard him rehearsing voice modulation. On the first attempt a sort of squeak came out, as if he had inhaled helium; Joe stifled a laugh. Luke noticed this, lowered his tone with the small knob behind the fake shine, and sneeringly began speaking in a deep voice, imitating an opera singer. At that point the detective could no longer resist, and began to laugh with great relish. Shifting the knob again, Lucky adjusted it to a childlike voice, similar to Amélie's, and Joe let himself fall backwards onto the bed holding his stomach, dropping the cards beside him, unable to contain himself. -I'd say it's working- concluded the former officer, turning off the device for a moment, -Take a breath.- The detective tried to follow the suggestion, but with difficulty recovered to answer him: -You must think I'm a fool... To laugh for so little...- -Not at all. On the contrary, I am glad to put you in a cheerful mood; it seemed to me that this weather was demoralising you.- -Not at all. I get bored when it rains, even if I'm busy or with company.- Luke nodded, approaching him: -Later we'll resume work. Now tell me, though: do you like spring rolls?-