#wanting things too soon. risk being smothering and Scary

[void-tiger]

I have a plan. Trusted people say it’s a good plan. I do not know if I have the courage to do said plan.

[mortedeveles]

BEAST. [Halloween Week] [P.1]

Summary: Throughout the years you’ve known Bakugou Katsuki, he’s never celebrated Halloween with you. This year seems to be an exception, and you’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing. One day at a scare house unravels the secrets of the friend you’ve been pining after for months, and you experience horror and fear like never before. 

PART TWO HERE: BEAST P.2 

Pairing: Werewolf! Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Themes: Horror, teens pining after each other jhdjhsd, fantasy!au [ONE-SHOT] [HALLOWEEN WEEK]

TW (PLEASE RED): Jumpscares, body gore, werewolves, graphic violence, cursing.

Word Count: 3.2K (aprox 3,265 words) 

A/N: i had such a hard time coming up with the title DEBWEBKAW!! You might’ve noticed I was scheduled to post about All Might, not Bakugou, but I’ve been having a hard time writing for All Might so I decided to write Bakubitch. and i just whipped this up today, so hopefully it’s okay ;;

This is PART 1!! WILL BE RELEASING PART 2 (and final) TOMORROW (or in 2 days)! If anyone’s interested in P2, lmk to make a taglist! 

This fic is part of HALLOWEEN WEEK, which you can check out HERE! Please support the event <3 please check out my other HALLOWEEN WEEK FIC (todoroki shouto) which is LINKED at the END of THIS FIC!

If you enjoy, please leave a REBLOG, COMMENT, LIKE AND/OR FOLLOW!! REBLOG > LIKE 

Bakugou hates Halloween.

It's not the holiday he exactly hates, not at all. Although he won't admit it, the laughter of children around the corner, the ''spooky'' decorations and the hint in the air of new fall spices humors him. It's still a somewhat foreign- Western concept to him, but it doesn’t bother him, so he thinks it’s alright.

What he hates, is how you're so insistent on going trick-or-treating on Halloween. Every goddamn year, you're trying to convince him with those sweet, pleading eyes of yours, your pouty lips, and sad little voice. And there's been several times you almost win him over, but he has to put his foot down. 

Halloween is the bane of his existence, the only day he loses control of his body. Bakugou spends it sitting in a cold, musty dungeon, held down by chains. 

Sometimes, he'll briefly remember you, and that you're probably out in a cute, skimpy outfit, smiling and bouncing with other guys. It makes his blood boil. 

But it's the way it is, even if it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He would rather put your safety and keeping his secret over enjoying the holiday outdoors, with you. 

And this year, just like the rest, was no different. Right after the school bell rang, and the students began to shuffle out of the U.A. academy, you walked up to him.

''Bakugou!'' your quiet but determined tone reached his ears. On any other occasion, he would've basked in it. But it was October 31st, which meant that you came to attempt to convince him to spend Halloween with you.

''Yes, Y/N?'' He grumbled. You smiled as the two of you walked out of the school hallways and onto the entrance.

''I was wondering...'' you twiddled with your skirt. ''Do you want to go trick or treating with me?'' As soon as he opened his mouth to protest, you stopped in your tracks and pressed your hand on his chest. 

''-And before you say no, hear me out! It's a scary house, we can go at five pm, we'll spend an hour or two there and then you're back at your house, just in time for your bedtime! God knows you appreciate your sleep,'' you snorted, shaking your head in amusement. 

Bakugou groaned. He gently pushed off your hand, shaking his head and walking straight ahead. You whined in annoyance and trailed after him.

''C'mon, Baku!'' you tugged at his shirt sleeve. ''Please come with me. I'm... I'm having some problems with my friends, and...'' he slowed down at the sudden bitter tone in your voice. 

''They’re going to ditch me on Halloween, and now I don't have anyone to hang out with. You know how things are with my family, and I'd...I'd really appreciate it if you could hang out with me, even if it's for a while.''

The way you lower your head makes his heart ache with pain. Bakugou knows you don't have an idea, but you've got his heart and soul around your finger, bound and desperate to make you happy.

He lets out a quiet sigh, before shoving his hands into his pockets. ''Tch. Fine, I'll go with you to this shitty house, or whatever.''

His heart leaped at the way your manner changed in a blink of an eye. The loneliness in your eyes was swept away and you smiled widely, leaping forward and wrapping him in a tight hug.

The blond barely had time to react, letting out a surprised oof! before being smothered by your hug.

''Thank you, thank you!'' You nearly wagged your nonexistent tail in excitement. The way you beamed at him made his face warm, even though he knew the rest of his departing classmates were staring at him. Frankly, if this was what it took to make you smile, he'd do it all over again.

''Whatever...'' he growled. Bakugou glanced at the sky. It was light blue, with little to no clouds. The moon was out of sight. For now, he thought bitterly.

''Just promise me something.'' You raised your eyebrows expectantly. 

''Yeah?''

''We have to return before eight o'clock, nine at most. You hear me?''

You shot him a toothy grin that made his heart stutter. ''Sure thing!'

                             ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You're not entirely sure how you managed to convince Bakugou- but you sure as hell won't question it. If you do, you might risk him not going at all. And that would just be the cherry on top of your melancholic week, the trigger that would make you fall apart and burst into tears.

But for now, you tucked those feelings into a corner. The Halloween costume you were going to wear was a top priority. Shifting through your small closet, your eyes drifted back and forth. Money had been tight this year, and you weren't sure what to wear as a decent Halloween costume. Buying a costume was out of the question.

When your eyes settled on a gothic dress, a grin spread on your face. It was a blood-red and black lace, with three-fourths sleeve and beautiful designs. It had a blood-red ribbon around the waist and reached around your mid-thigh. 

''Perfect,'' you whispered with a wide grin. In a matter of a few hours, you texted Bakugou the location of the spooky house, showered, dressed, slipped on a pair of black flats, and did your makeup. Since the dress was gothic looking, you decided to dress as a vampire.

All you had to do was do some simple makeup, apply some fake blood- which you learned to do last year, and buy a pair of fake fangs on your way to the scary house. And if you were lucky, buy a cheap but nice looking black cloak.

Even though you told yourself to not think about it, you couldn't help but wonder what made Bakugou change his mind this year. Although the two of you had been friends since meeting during your first year at U.A. Academy, he had always opted out of Halloween. 

The fleeting and conflicted thoughts swarmed your mind as you walked out of the local store, having bought the fake fangs and cloak. With them, your costume was complete.

Feeling happy and confident with yourself, you arrived at the spooky house in a matter of minutes. You noticed that your neighborhood was long behind you, and the house was in an abandoned area. It was the only house. Other than that, there was a road and on the other side, a huge, dark forest that made you shiver. 

The spooky house was tall, with three floors, creaky and old wood, and a wide yard. Tall weeds and dead plants surrounded the house. The house was painted a dirty grey, with cobwebs in the corners and an empty swing creaking on the doorstep entrance. The house had gates surrounding it, easily double your height. 

''Oi, fangs,'' Bakugou's gruff voice pulled you away from examining the house. You glanced at your left, and there he was, leaning on the house’s black gates.

The blonde stood a few feet away from you, wearing a simple black tee-shirt and jeans. And yet, he looked irresistibly good. 

''He....'' you swallowed nervously. You had to keep your feelings down. ''Hey.'' 

Bakugou nodded in acknowledgment, and the two of you lingered in front of the house. The gates’ paint was chipped, and the two gate doors were slightly open, but something held you back from entering. Why weren’t there any other people?

''So... this the place or what? It looks too fucking shady for a spook house.'' He snorted, and you couldn't help but agree with his statement, even if you didn't voice it out.

''Yeah...'' seeing him in an informal outfit had left you breathless. ''Yeah, this is the house. Let's go in.'' And without further ado, you pushed the gates open. They creaked loudly and you grimaced.

The two of you walked side to side in silence, shoulders slightly brushing against each other. When you reached the doorstep, you craned your neck and peeked on the window at the right. It was musty and covered in dust, but you caught a movement or two. You weren’t sure if it was comforting.

''Well...'' you breathed shakily. ''Here we go.'' 

There was no one inside. The house was barren, with grey walls and a banner on one of them with the bold words; “WELCOME!’’

You didn’t see any actors or customers. It was unsettling. Slowly, the two of you stepped inside the house, tensing as the wooden floor creaked beneath your feet.

The house was too eery. Even though the website said that once you stepped inside, no one would be there, you couldn’t help but feel that neither of you was supposed to be there.

As soon as the two of you were completely inside the house, the front door slammed behind you. You jumped, and Bakugou flinched. The two of you glanced back at the door and then at each other.

‘’You better fucking hope this is the right house,’’ the blond grumbled. ‘’Or we’re in serious trouble.’’

You decided to remain silent. The two of you surveyed the room; all of the doors were closed and upon further inspection, locked. It was dimly lit with one small, flicker lightbulb.

''Bakugou...'' you whispered, clinging onto his arm. ''Are you scared?''

He snorted. ''Of course not. Knowing how these cheap-ass places work, they’re probably going to scare us from behind or something.'' 

You heard a ball drop on the floor. It came from behind, rolled to your feet, and you flinched.

''I don’t think we should-'' you couldn't even finish your sentence, as the floor beneath you two disappeared. A scream ripped from your lips as Bakugou and you fell into complete darkness.

''Fucking hell!'' The blonde shouted. You gripped his hand and his free arm moved wildly, desperate to grab hold onto something. 

''Hooly shiit!'' You screamed. The wind howled briefly in your ears and a few seconds, you stopped falling. With a loud thump, the two of you fell on a soft surface. It was still dark, and you could barely see a thing. Then a few torches lighted up on the walls, and you strained your eyes to adjust to your surroundings. 

''Jesus fucking christ...'' Bakugou rose from the ground, and it seemed that the two of you had landed on a black, wide cushion. He patted down his clothes and scowled.

''Where the fuck did you find this house, Y/N?''

You smiled sheepishly and rose from the cushion. ‘’Google?’’

He sighed in disapproval. ''Whatever. Hurry up, I don't want us to take long.''

You nodded and followed him. It seemed that you had fallen to an underground passage of sorts. The walls were rocky and cold, a rocky wall behind you blocked passage south and there was an empty trail ahead of you. Torches were on the walls, but they weren't enough to light the entire way. Farther than ten feet away, it was dark. You weren't sure if the path continued or not.

''C'mon,'' Bakugou began speed walking away and you had to jog to catch up with him.

‘’Hey!’’ You protested. ‘’Slow down!’’ With a grunt, he reluctantly slowed down. Just as Bakugou and you reached the end of the trail lighted by torches, he walked towards the wall and plucked one off the wall. 

He gripped your hand and surged forward. You followed after, feeling your face erupt with warmth at his bold actions. On the other hand, he didn’t even flinch, and you wondered what the hell was he thinking.

It seemed that the trail continued forward. The torch lit the way, and it seemed that the path narrowed the farther you walked. There was an uncomfortable and questionable silence between the two of you, mainly because of your hand-holding. Katsuki was one of your closest friends, and although he had been your crush for months, there hadn’t been any noticeable changes or romantic insinuations.

After a while, he cleared his throat. ‘’It’s so… we don’t get lost. I don’t want to have to find your dumbass if you get lost.’’ He grumbled.

You smiled. ‘’Okay, Bakugou.’’ 

Every once in awhile, you’d hear a scream or a roar that did not sound human. You’d flinch and cling onto Bakugou, but nothing ever happened.

It felt like hours passed by until you reached the end of the path. Or at least, what seemed to be the exit. The trail had been narrowing until the two of you could barely fit, shoulders, and hips brushing against each other constantly. It was safe to say your face was hotter than a teapot.

‘’I don’t think we’ll need this anymore,’’ Katsuki released the torch and placed it on one of the wall’s torch handles.

There was a white, wooden door ahead. 

‘’Do you think this is the exit?’’ You murmured. Bakugou shrugged. He pushed you behind him, and slowly opened the doorknob, kicking it open once it clicked.

‘’Who’s there?’’ He snapped and placed one foot inside, moving the torch and attempting to observe his surroundings. You trailed behind him, hand still in his.

After hearing and seeing nothing, the blonde grumbled. He pulled you forward and the two of you stepped into the room. This time, it looked similar to the design of the house’s first room. 

There were two old and ripped couches, a TV that was turned on, emitting static and disturbing noises. The lightbulb flickered. At the farthest and opposite wall of the room, there was another door.

The two of you slowly stepped forward, glancing from side to side. As you passed by the first couch, something wrapped around your ankle and you screamed. Just as fast as it seized you, it slithered away. Bakugou whupped around, and the two of you raced towards the door. Just as your hand wrapped around the doorknob, you heard a gut-wrenching scream behind you.

‘’Shit!” Both of you shouted in surprise.

A low groan echoed in the room, and Bakugou gripped your arm and swung the door open. The banshee was gone, and the two of you raced inside. As soon as you were inside, you realized too late that it was a tight hallway. Quickly, the two of you raced forward, and you yelped when you felt hands, hundreds of them, grab desperately at your clothes. None of them pulled you back, but it was enough to make you scream in terror.

Bakugou tightened his grip on your hand and before you knew it, you saw light ahead of you. The two of you raced forward, only to freeze when you saw a body hanging from the ceiling. It resembled a young boy, with his eyes gouged out, his stomach ripped open. You hoped the guts that spilled from his body were fake. Dried blood stained the floor. With trembling legs, you followed Bakugou, who was leading the way, even though you noticed he was frightened as well. 

Besides the dummy, there was nothing else in the room. Instead of a door, there was a wide hole, and you could see a rope from the other side. The exit.

‘’Is-is it fake?’’ You couldn’t help the tremble in your voice.

‘’Yeah, it is.’’ But even Bakugou sounded uncertain of himself. 

Slowly, the two of you stepped forward, walking around the body. As you were halfway towards the exit, a roar echoed and the floor ripped open in the middle. A monster crawled out of the floor, and Bakugou and you raced towards the exit. He pushed you out first, and you wildly grabbed the rope, even as it scratched at your hands as you slid downwards.

Bakugou followed suit and the two of you landed on soft grass, panting heavily. You had escaped in time. It seemed that you had finally reached the exit of the spooky house. There was a tall, towering forest surrounding you. Trees swayed and crickets chirped. The sky was already dark, and you could see the moon slowly setting in the sky.

Slowly, the two of you rose from the grass. 

‘’Oh god…’’ you mumbled. ‘’I’m never going to a scare house again.’’ As you regained your breath and muttered about how frightening it was, you noticed that Bakugou was eerily silent. His back was turned to you. 

''Y/N...'' Bakugou's voice was oddly strained. You frowned and glanced at him. He slowly turned around. Veins were popping on his forehead, and he was digging his nails into his palm. Why was he acting so strange?

''What time is it?'' 

With a frown, you fished out your phone from the cloak and turned it on. The screen read 10 PM.

''Um...'' you froze. Nine o'clock at most. You hear me? Bakugou's previous words echoed in your head. Oh god, he was upset that it'd taken too long and would never hang out with you again-

''Y/N!'' He barked. You staggered backward as Bakugou dropped on the floor, curling into a fetal position with a low groan. The more he groaned, the less he sounded like himself, and sounded more... inhumane. His pained groans shifted between growls and whines.

''Go away. Go home, Y/N. Get the fuck away from me.'' The blonde managed to rise on his feet for a few seconds and spat out the words, before tumbling to the ground again. 

''What?'' Disobeying his wishes, you stepped closer to him. ‘’No. You're clearly not feeling well. C'mon, grab onto my shoulder, and I'll take you to the nearest hospital.''

''NO!'' He flinched when you grabbed him and stepped away.

You frowned, feeling your heart sting at his actions. ''What is going on with you Bakugou? Stop being so prideful for a second, and let me help you!''

He opened his mouth to respond, and with a gasp, you noticed there was something wrong. 

He had fangs.

Not the type that you were wearing, transparent and cheap-looking, fake fangs. No, the fangs that sprouted on both his canines were sharp, large, and gleamed dangerously. Your heart stopped for a second.

''Ba...ku....gou...'' With wobbly knees, you took a step backward. His eyes gleamed with frustration and panic, and just as he reached out for you, a sharp howl pierced the wind.

Both of you glanced at the sky, and you felt your hands tremble as the full moon stared back at you.

‘’No.’’ Bakugou whispered. He stared at his hands in disbelief, before falling to his knees. He groaned loudly, gripping at his head.

‘’Are you feeling okay? Let me help you-,’’ He pushed your hand away and growled. 

‘’Go home, Y/N! Get the fuck away from me. You’re in danger. GO!’’ 

You were startled to hear bones cracking and popping from Bakugou. What was going on? Was he hurt? Why did he want you to go?

‘’Wha-,’’ Before you could complete your sentence, you watched in horror as your friend rose and became a beast. His spine grew, his arms and legs were covered in fur as claws sprout from his nails. Bakugou’s jaw elongated, the fangs you had previously seen only grew longer and his eyes became a near pitch-black, void of any human soul.

You fell on the ground from the shock, feeling your heart stutter in fear and knees tremble.

''What- what are you?''

The beast you called your friend growled in response. 

A werewolf. Your friend, Bakugou Katsuki, was a werewolf. And the fact couldn't terrify you any more than it already did.

PLEASE CHECK OUT MY OTHER HALLOWEEN WEEK FIC HERE! 

If you’re interested in P2; send me an ask/DM!

Taglist: @sandwichez01​ @ur-local-simp​

PLEASE REBLOG, LIKE AND COMMENT! 

[bookocd]

Light as Air

Hi guys this is a Fenrys Fanfic that is set in the aftermath of Kingdom of Ash. I’m literally so excited about this and I have such a clear vision for where this is going to go. If anyone wants to be tagged when I update or has any thoughts for me PLEASE feel free to reach out. 

Summary: Fenrys see’s a powerful fae female after Aelin’s coronation and is given the task of finding her. Only he doesn’t know the secrets and chaos that he is about to unleash upon Orynth and himself. (A longer summary will be provided after this chapter! I just didn’t want to give any spoilers away)

Thank you for reading :)

Links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: 

Ever since she was a little girl, she only ever dreamed of two things; a beautiful night sky with different constellations then she had ever seen in Terrasen, and a pair of violet eyes, only a shade darker than her own. She never understood these dreams, but it always felt as though someone was watching her, not in a scary way, but in a safe nurturing way. Like she would always have someone guarding her and giving her direction. 

This past night she had still dreamt of the same stars and darkness, but instead of purple eyes looking back at her, she was staring into eyes of onyx. 

She didn’t understand her sudden need to go back into the city gates and find the golden man and she sure as hell didn’t understand that feeling in her heart, in her soul, that he was also searching for her. That while she was dreaming of his eyes, he may be dreaming of hers. 

Obviously he was a warrior and a male of worth, he was literally blood sworn to the most powerful queen in history. 

What would he ever want with me, she thought to herself as she laid in her small bed. I’m nobody and I will always be nobody. Her insecurities clouded her mind, like a summer storm cloud.

The female looked around and saw just how much of a nobody she was. Her room was actually a hidden cellar, and past the shelves of vegetables and ale, her small bed was in the corner. The bed was for a child, not a fully grown fae female. When she slept at night, she either had to curl up into a ball, knees to her chest, or let everything past her knee go over the end of the bed. There was a small worn dresser with drawers that squeaked when opened, that had all the clothes she owned. Having never learned how sew or stitch, her wardrobe consisted of her fathers pants, which had never been long enough, loose white shirts, which also didn’t fit, and one single hooded cloak. The cloak was a deep navy blue that almost seemed black, and it was the one thing that fit her and the only reason her father had gifted it to her was so she could cover her ears, facial features, and her lean muscular body. It was also perfect for hiding her assortment of knives and other weapons. 

Her father had only ever given her three things: the cloak, her array of weapons, and the skills to fight and always win. It wasn’t just physical fighting either, he educated her until she knew history, mathematics, and science, he made her able to adapt to any situation, he made her witty and able verbally spare with anyone. He did not just gift her weapons, he molded her into one. 

She ran her rough crooked fingers down the soft cotton fabric, and thought about her father. He was a warrior turned scholar, and somehow knew that dangerous times were coming, so he moved himself and his only son, Smyth, along with some of his books into a small cabin. The extensive forests west of Orynth became their home and soon after the female’s home as well.

Pushing out the thoughts of her family and the impeding misery, she tried to figure out what to do next. It was obvious that she needed to wait until the other royals left before she could make her move. With so many powerful people, she would be too much of a threat, a risk, and if she was provoke… Her body shuttered with memories of torn flesh, burnt skin, and silent screams of terror. She willed her hands to stop shaking. 

She would wait until all the royals were gone, then she would go into the city and see if any opportunities presented themselves, and if these opportunities came from the golden male, she wouldn’t be upset. 

—

He had gone into the city and the surrounding areas every day for two weeks. He told Rowan and the others that he wanted to help with the initial rebuilding, while they were working on goodbyes and more diplomatic matters. Lorcan and Elide both did their calculating stares, Aedion coughed while saying “bullshit” which had Lysandra smothering a laugh with her hand, and Rowan pulled him aside and gave him a “stay safe” lecture. 

Aelin caught up to him when he all but ran out of the room. She pointedly grabbed his elbow and forced him to look her straight on. The three blinks she sent his direction, meaning Are you all right, immediately calmed him, but also brought him back into a dark place. He could never lie to her, so he responded with two blinks, No.   

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on in that thick head of yours or do I need to use force.” Aelin’s eyes sparkled with the treat looming in the air. 

He opened his mouth, a deflecting comment on the tip of his tongue, but she interrupted and said, “Rowan told me what you said, about someone else joining the court.” Fenrys’s head whipped toward the door they had just existed and swore he could feel the bastard male in there smiling. 

“Oh don’t get all pissy about it. It’s my gods damned court and I get to decided who joins it.” He knew she was being playful by the light in her face, but he couldn’t help the sharp words as they came out of his mouth. 

“I know that” 

Aelin then moved her hands to her sides and widened the gap between her legs. A fighting stance. She was wearing pants and a loose black top, and her leather boots were stained with mud. 

He didn’t want to fight with her, not with the one person who understood his pain. He didn’t want to push her away. 

Letting out a rugged breath and running a hand down the back of his head nervously, he said, “It’s nothing I just can’t figure out if I think this girl is a threat or one of us”

“One of us?”

“A dreamer.” Clarity finally filled Aelin’s eyes and her body changed from taunt to fluid. She ran forward and put her arms around Fenrys’s neck. He grabbed her and pulled her close with his arms around her middle. 

Hearing a growl, the two turned and found Rowan glaring and baring his teeth. Fenrys couldn’t help, but laugh, even if the result was a fist to the face. Rowan started toward Fenrys, but Aelin ran to him, jumped up, and put her legs around his waist. 

Rowan’s fury washed away into something more heated. 

Aelin turned one last time, “Go find her Fen. This group could use another female, all the males and their territorial bullshit is getting old.”

Chuckling as Rowan poked his queen in the ribs, Fenrys decided it was his time to leave. 

With his fae ears he could just make out what Aelin said to her husband. 

“Oh how I’m going to make you beg after that performance.” The returning purr told Fenrys that Rowan wouldn’t mind that type of punishment. 

—

It wasn’t quite spring, but Fenrys was still sweating. His tan skin glistening in the sun, while nailing boards onto The Tadpole Inn’s roof. The innkeeper, Annie, a sweet human girl who had inherited the inn from her parents, who had both fought and died in the final days of the war. Fenrys had never asked her age, but he guessed she was in her twenties, and with her blond hair tied back into a long elaborate braid, she never shied away from hard work. Fenrys instantly liked her the moment she picked up a shitty wooden hammer and worked along side him, asking him questions, and even telling him to leave when she had mastered what had been taught. 

She was one of those closest to the outer wall, and Fenrys constantly found himself up on the barges. The surrounding area’s were still all a battle ground, scars and all, but the forest and freedom called his name. 

His keen eyes searched and scanned the land in front of him, and then he turned and looked toward the streets of Orynth. In the past weeks, he had found himself getting more and more anxious at being cooped up in the palace. It wasn’t the company, but the confinement. But he would be lying to himself if he said that was the only reason for being out and scanning the winding streets every spare moment. 

A phantom wind lifted his hair, and he turned toward the strange warm breeze.

Fenrys froze. 

The wind was blowing into his face now and it hit him. 

Cinnamon. 

He shifted in a flash of light and ran south, toward the smell. 

Gods he hoped it wasn’t a pastry.

—-

Every time she was in this city, she kept to the shadows. When she was younger it was based on fear, now it was to observe. She kept far away from the palace, from the queen inside it. She didn’t want that yet, she wanted gossip. 

Her father taught her that people always talked, and if you listened hard enough, the truth would always emerge. 

She watched a woman with graying hair and winkles around the cornes of her dark brown eyes, slowly move wet laundry to a clothes line. The conversation with her neighbor included sharp clipped words and it rubbed the female the wrong way. 

“I’ve seen the queen every single day with that male of hers,” she scoffed at the word male and violently gripped her clothing. 

She continued with every word dripping with distaste, “I feel like the fae are going to be her priority, if her choice in companions says anything.”

The female thought out the words and analyzed the tone. The truth came to her fairly quickly: the woman was panicked. Their city and Terrasen, had been in a war and that has effected everything and everyone. She was scared that her and people like her, would be a second thought to their queen. The female didn’t blame the fake distain for the fae males in Aelin’s court, but the thing that did stick out to her was that the woman had seen the queen everyday. 

Those are the actions of a queen who cares, for not just the city she rules over, but the individuals as well. A queen who wants to look within, fix what has been broken, before moving forward. 

She didn’t know what to do with the information, but she had been hearing the same thing all morning. The queen was caring and wise. Someone that could be trusted. 

It was enough.

Looking around at the smiles, even with their city so broken, these people were resilient and they would come back stronger than before. 

Stepping out of the shadows for the first time, in broad day light, the female felt lighter somehow. She had no idea that her good mood translated to her manipulating the wind. All around her the air started to breath and stir, seeming to wake. 

Tomorrow, she decided, I will—

The screaming cut off her thoughts and ended her rare reign of the wind. Unlike others she ran toward the commotion and started to yell at people to get inside. It wasn’t until she saw what was coming down the stone street at a sprint, that she lost her voice. Standing in the middle of the road, it was impossible for her to melt in-between buildings or become a shadow. 

The golden wolf bounded toward her, and the scratching of its elongated claws against the ground was deafening. The muscles on its legs were straining with effort and its coat was near radiant in the beating down sun. 

The wolf stopped mere inches from her, panting and staring into her soul, giving her a clear view of its knife like teeth. The sheer height of the beast sent a shiver down her spine. The near black eyes reminded her…

Blinding light surrounded her with a feeling of warmth. It was too bright for her not to quickly put her hands in front of her eyes as a shield, a shield from the sun like rays. 

A heartbeat later, the light was gone and the female slowly moved her hands down and opened her eyes. 

The golden male was standing in front of her. And he had a shit-eating grin on his face. 

She was in fucking trouble.

[septic-skele]

UT - In All But Name

Summary: Papyrus has grown up believing that he's never had or even needed parents. When the other children explain what a dad is, however, he comes to the conclusion that Sans has been his dad all along.

Sans and Papyrus, last surviving skeleton monsters of Snowdin Town, were sons of mystery.

No one was sure of where they were originally from, the exact time they snuck into Snowdin or how long they had been there before they were noticed. It was to Sans’ credit that some of the shopkeepers to this day were unaware that he had snatched their foodstuff to line his pockets. Grillby, however, was more observant than most, clearing away the trash behind his bar to uncover the sneak thief and the hungry, fussy bundle he protected with his life.

No matter how the nosy yet well-meaning townsfolk poked and prodded, they could never pry anything out of Sans about their parents. Whenever the topic came around, it seemed to trigger all of his trap doors; in the span of a soul beat, he would close off with a tense shrug and a grin.

“Dunno, it doesn’t really matter. Hey, I actually gotta get goin’, okay? Y’know. Papyrus.” That was all he would say, as if Papyrus’ existence explained nothing and everything at once. Baffling, the townsfolk thought, but they wouldn’t stand between Sans and supervision of his charge for an answer.

Why not ask Papyrus then? the bold ones pointed out, only to be reminded that Papyrus had just recently grown into striped shirts. If he was an infant when they arrived in town, he would have little to no memory of his parentage unless his brother opted to inform him. Sans’ obvious caginess about it made that unlikely and it would be unfair to upset Papyrus by pointing out that something was missing from his life. It wasn’t their place to drop such a realization on him.

If there was ever a scenario where the notion of a parent was strictly necessary, such as school registries or field trips, Sans handled it with the teachers behind closed doors. He was Papyrus’ guardian, a single parent in all but name—though whispered rumors of that sort weren’t unheard of either.

“Are we certain they’re brothers? If Sans is older than he looks, he could be…”

“No, no. Skeleton genes ran strong, back in the day. Papyrus would be his spitting image if it was like that.”

“What if he takes his looks after the mother?”

“Grillby said that Sans was barely out of striped shirts himself when he found them! He couldn’t have, not at that age—certainly not with a gimp soul.”

Those conversations were always smothered before either of the skeletons got close enough to overhear; no one wanted to risk offending Sans any further with the suggestion.

With all of the secrecy surrounding the subject, a short attention span and the wide-eyed obliviousness of a carefree child, Papyrus remained largely unaware. He had his brother, his teachers, the various children he (hoped to) call his friends. What more could a baby bones ask for? What more could he want?

One afternoon, after what might have been four rounds of the game Humans and Monsters, Papyrus finally felt the surrounding enthusiasm waning. He was always cast as the scary human, chasing down the other children with the goal of snatching and eating them. They had proved to be expert runners and hiders, scrambling away from him at every turn with very convincing shouts of disgust. Nevertheless, Papyrus was relentless in his attempt to play the game properly. At long last he caught up with them to find that they collapsed into the snow, worn down and breathless.

“Wowie! That was a lot of fun, right?” he burst out eagerly, undeterred when they groaned at his presence. “Oh, don’t worry! The game’s on pause; I won’t try to eat you now!” With no further ado he scooted himself into their circle and crossed his legs nicely. A couple of them glared at him. They must be sore losers of the game.

“We didn’t really wanna play Humans and Monsters, Papyrus,” a rabbit monster by the name of Hedda told him flatly. “’Least ways, not with you.”

“Oh!” How was he supposed to respond to that? “I’m sorry. But thank you for playing anyway; it was fun! We can play something else now if you want! What do you like to do? Do you like puzzles?”

“No,” Hedda huffed, ears flattening in annoyance.

“I don’t think I have time for another game. My dad’s coming to get me soon,” a boy named Chiff sighed.

“You got lots of homework?” Capra, a teacher’s daughter, guessed sympathetically.

“Nope. Dinner’s been cold two times this week ’cause Dad’s late picking me up, so Mama’s mad at him about it. She wants him to come get me a whole half hour early!”

A half hour was an eternity of playtime stolen from him. Scandalized gasps of dismay went around the cluster at this dreadful news.

“That’s awful! Instead of taking you earlier, your dad should just walk you home faster. You should tell him that,” Capra advised firmly, backed up by noises of approval.

Papyrus, for his part, concurred with the others, though his brow was furrowed with curiosity. When something he didn’t know was brought up in conversation, he would often nod and smile anyway, happy to pretend he was in on the secret, but the question had been on his mind for some time.

“What is a dad?” he asked. He had heard them speak of their dads before, always referring to a specific adult in their lives, but he was never certain of what singled that one out as a “dad”. It was only now that he was in the right mood to ask and the others seemed in the right mood to answer him.

“Don’t be stupid!” Hedda snickered, shoving at him. “Everybody knows what a dad is! Don’t you have one?”

“Well, tell me what it is,” he urged, bouncing back upright just as hurriedly, “so I can know if I do or not! Why’s it so important to have? What is a dad?”

Hedda drew herself up confidently, as though an entire dissertation on the matter had already been prepared, only to falter as she gave it a second thought. Until now she had never needed to explain something she believed to be common knowledge. “A dad…Well, a dad’s someone older who’s in charge of you,” she announced at last, folding her arms authoritatively. “He makes up the rules.”

If that was the only condition, Papyrus had quite a number of dads! His teachers had pasted colorful “Class Rules” posters on the walls. The King made rules for the entire Underground and Sans had created plenty of annoying house rules: finish homework before playing, clean your whole plate, don’t try to build snowmen in the house, close the door after coming inside but don’t slam it. That had to count for something.

“That’s not all a dad does,” Chiff protested before Papyrus could comment on this.

“Oh, then you tell him what it does, if you’re so smart!”

“My dad takes me all sorts of places, like I said. And he shows me how to do stuff, like reading and numbers and magic and…lots of things! And he scolds me when I get in trouble.”

Gnawing pensively on one of his knuckles, Papyrus mulled over this information. Briefly he considered the river person, who had taken him and Sans in a boat on their special outings to Waterfall, but there wasn’t much else to say about them. They didn’t fit the rest of the criteria.

Because he had never met the King, he couldn’t be sure of his opinion on getting in trouble. At school he often heard of things that the King had said or done, but did that count as Asgore showing him things? Probably not, which meant that he was out of the running too.

Still, that hardly created a shortage. His teachers spent all day explaining sums and magic and Sans helped him read a picture book every evening. None of them were happy with him when he misbehaved; that he had learned the hard way, many times over. Sometimes he would walk from a teacher’s scolding with a note in his hand, right home to Sans’ reproach for making them scold him in the first place. Oftentimes it felt like they were ganging up on him.

He frowned. “Is that all they do?”

“Not just that! When you’re not being naughty, dads are really nice to you. They give extra big hugs; sometimes they’re so big, they take you right off the floor!” Capra asserted. “And they play games with you and cheer you up when you’re sad and take care of you when you’re sick or hurt. They buy you sweets and clothes and tuck you in at night and tell you that they love you very much.”

At that Papyrus perked up. The teachers played games with him and his classmates sometimes at recess and if he got scraped up they would take him to the school healer, but comfort, big hugs and tucking in? All of those things were Sans’ job.

Just a few weeks ago, when they were playing chase, Papyrus had slipped on an icy patch and smacked his head too hard. As soon as Sans reached him, he had gathered him up in a hug, patting his back and hushing him while he cried. Later that night, when the headache became truly awful, Sans perched on his bedside and pet his skull until he fell asleep. The next day, he had chocolate syrup in Papyrus’ oatmeal as a surprise treat.

“Nyeheheh! I do have a dad!” Papyrus exclaimed. “Sans is my dad!”

“Sans is your brother,” Hedda snorted. “Brothers can’t be dads.”

“Why not?” Chest puffing out in defense of his new conclusion—and Sans’ honor—Papyrus remained triumphant. “If those are all of the things only a dad does and Sans does them all, that means I’ve got a brother who’s cool enough to be both! Can your brothers do all that your dad does too?”

Hedda’s nose twitched. “Well—” Before she could muster an answer, an older monster calling interrupted the conversation. Chiff pushed himself upright.

“There he is,” he informed them before raising his voice. “Coming, Dad! I gotta go. Bye, Hedda. Bye, Capra. See you tomorrow, maybe.”

“I hope so!” Papyrus chirped. He was eager to play another game with him sometime, as thanks for being part of the group to offer him all of this newfound knowledge. Next time he could catch all three of them at once, he would have to ask what the difference was between a mom and a dad.

Once Chiff left, the girls rose to make their exit too. Papyrus trailed after them at a distance, hoping not to seem overeager or clingy for companionship, but he wasn’t too far to see when their parents came to fetch them. He couldn’t help but feel pleased on their behalf at the hugs and kisses they received.

It was curious, though, that Sans had never asked Papyrus to call him by the well-deserved title. Papyrus had only ever called him “brother” and Sans called him “bro” in response.

Oh, stars! Did Sans think Papyrus didn’t want to call him Dad? Was he hurt about it? Papyrus had learned quickly over his short lifetime that even when Sans was hurt, he would pretend he was fine for some stupid adult reason. Was he secretly disappointed that Papyrus only thought of him as a brother all this time?

How could he not have noticed? If no one had told him the secrets of dad-ness, how was Papyrus supposed to know? With this new wisdom, he couldn’t let that stand any longer. He had to set it all right!

“Hey, Pap!” Sans hailed as he waded through the snow, his grin weary but no less genuine. “Did you have fun?”

Lighting up, Papyrus whirled around to face him and, now ready to demonstrate his new regard for Sans’ feelings, charged and flung himself at him for a hug. “Dad!”

With his arms tight around his brother’s neck and his face tucked into his shoulder, he didn’t see the way Sans’ smile froze or the startled looks Hedda and Capra’s parents cast their way. As he gingerly returned the embrace, Sans forced an uncertain laugh.

“…Bro? You ready to go home?”

“Yes! Ooh, can we have oatmeal tonight? Can we? May we?”

Maybe Papyrus hadn’t realized what he said. Maybe it was a fleeting, random aberration, Sans decided, like calling a tutor “Mom” by mistake. Shouldn’t he have corrected himself already, though?

“I guess breakfast for dinner couldn’t hurt,” he answered, rolling with the changed subject. He wouldn’t comment.

“With chocolate syrup?”

“Heh, sure thing, buddy. We can’t miss oat on that!”

Papyrus groaned, shoving into his side in annoyance, though he didn’t resist when Sans promptly slung an arm around his shoulders to give him another affectionate squeeze.

That would have been the end of it, Sans thought, if it hadn’t been for Papyrus’ call at dinner:

“Dad, we’re almost out of milk!”

And after dinner:

“Dad, look at the puzzle I drew in school!”

And at bedtime:

“Da-a-ad! Dad!” he appealed to Sans down the hall, following it with a small, self-satisfied giggle as if he had just done something particularly clever. “I’m ready for my story and tucking in!”

Was this…some attempt at a joke? If so, Sans wasn’t sure of the punchline. Eye sockets narrowed in bewilderment, he slowly eased into his usual perch on the edge of the bed. Snuggled into his blankets, Papyrus beamed at him in anticipation as he picked up the book.

Sans opened it, read the first two lines aloud—and then promptly gave up. With a shake of his head, he propped the book face down against his leg. “Papyrus, what’s gotten into you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been talkin’ to me weird all night. Why aren’t you just using my name?”

Judging by the expression that came over Papyrus’ face, this was clearly not the reaction he was expecting or hoping for. Confidence faltering, he scrambled upright in bed, displacing the carefully arranged blankets. “I—No, but I am! That’s what I’m supposed to call you!”

“‘Dad’? Why would you think you gotta call me that?” Fingers subtly tightening on the book, he lowered his head. “Was someone teasing you for not having one?” That would be some well calculated cruelty.

“No, no, see, that’s just it, I do have one! I do ’cause I’ve got you!” Papyrus protested. “Hedda asked me if I didn’t have a dad so I asked her, ‘What’s a dad?’ and everyone said it’s a monster who teaches you things and scolds you for trouble and makes you happy when you’re not and takes good care of you, with lots of hugs and niceness! So I said I do too have a dad, and it’s my brother, so I can call you both, can’t I? ’Cause I thought you might be sad about me not calling you that, ’cause that’s what you are, so I thought I ought to call you that so it’ll make you happy!”

Blinking through this slew of information—rather impressively fit into one breath—Sans reeled back slightly, stammering. “Papyrus, I…I’m not your dad.”

“But you are,” he insisted. “I know you are. There are rules and everything and I checked them for you. You act just like a dad’s supposed to!”

“Okay, well—thank you, but acting like a dad isn’t the same as being a dad.” Sliding the book off to the side, Sans weighed his words. “Listen, Pap. I really love you; I love you with my whole soul.”

The doubt on Papyrus’ face was swept away with delight at the familiar words. He loved this guessing game. “More than ketchup?”

“More than that.”

“More than space books?”

“More than that too.” Twisting, he scratched his free hand gently over the crown of his brother’s skull. “More than gold—”

“And your trombone? And your best jacket?”

“And my slippers, and even more than sleeping—though I love those a whole lot too. But you had a dad once and it wasn’t me.” He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eye sockets. “He was our dad, for us to share.”

Eyes round, Papyrus peeked past Sans’ outstretched hand. “But I don’t remember him.”

“I know. It was a long time ago…I don’t really remember much either, but I know someone was there in our lives back then. Who else would it be?”

“Oh.” Picking at a loose thread on his blanket, Papyrus considered. “Did he love me as much as you do?”

“Heh, I’m sure he did. Who wouldn’t love a cool guy like you?”

“So where is he then? Why doesn’t he live with us? The other dads live with Hedda and Chiff and Capra!”

Sans wavered, digging his toes into Papyrus’ worn carpet. How could he explain it in a way Pap would understand when most of his own ideas were fog, faint hopes and guesswork? His next word was more of a sigh. “Well…he probably thought it would be better for us to strike out on our own. Prove how strong and independent we can be without his help.”

“Oh! We’ve done that right, haven’t we? I’m super-duper cool and you take care of me just as good as a dad could!”

He was a sorry substitute, nothing more, but Sans was already aware that putting himself down in front of Papyrus would only upset him. He wouldn’t mention it. “Yeah. So all we would have to do to make Dad proud is keep going on the way we are now. We’re…doing alright without him, aren’t we?” The last thing he wanted was to create a new sense of loss for something that was little more than a whisper.

“We’re more than alright, Sans!” Papyrus reassured him, a balm on Sans’ soul as he reached to squeeze his hand. “We’re great! If he comes to visit someday, so he can know how good we’re doing, everybody in Snowdin will be able to tell him so! Wait and see!”

“We may be waiting a long time for that, Paps…years, probably.” His voice fell a shade softer. “Or forever. I dunno.”

“Well, we can still be great in the meantime! I can be patient and be happy at the same time, as long as you’re with me!”

“Heh…you really are the coolest.”

“I know! And whenever Dad comes, if he comes, he’ll see that.”

“Maybe. Maybe.”

[clairecrive]

“Worth it”- Alfie Solomons x reader

A/n: I don’t know what this is, I just needed to rewrite this scene to add a little love for my precious man. As always, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. Also, requests are always open and very welcome. 

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​ (let me know if you wanna be added)

Accompanying Alfie on his business meetings wasn't something you always did. Not that it was something you wanted to do. You knew that the people he meets more often than not are not nice people. It goes without saying that even if you wanted to, Alfie was very adamant on putting you in a position where it could be even the slightest possibility of you being in danger. However, this time you had insisted that he let you come. Well more than he accepted the fact that you were going to go with him, you didn't exactly ask him for his permission. Knowing him he would have said no, even if you and Tommy had been good friends since a young age, long before you had met Alfie.

A part of you knew that he didn't put up much of a fight and let you come only because he enjoyed your company. It had been a couple of weeks that you noticed that his health was getting worse. His constant use of his cane didn't worry you as much at first knowing that he often used it as a way to look more powerful and scary. Your suspicion grew when you noticed the red patches on his skin being more irritated than usual. You hoped that it was just stress-related and that it didn't imply something more serious. Not wanting to consider this possibility, you became even keener on taking care of him.

If he noticed the growth of your attention he didn't mention it and of course, he didn't complain actually enjoying being smothered by your affection. So you guessed that he hoped that by allowing you to come with him you would be calmer and not worried about his well-being. Besides, he knew that Tommy wouldn't hurt you otherwise you could have fussed all you wanted but he wouldn't have bulged.

The trip to Birmingham was peaceful, filled with Alfie's lame jokes and nonsensical ramblings. Not that it was the first time you had been sitting together in his car, he had a driver and very rarely drove himself, however, you relished in the feeling of the touch of his hand on your thigh like it was the first time.  Laughing loudly at another of his jokes you couldn't help but look at him adoringly loving the way, even after months of courting, you still felt butterflies invade your insides every time he was near.

"Oh Alfie, I don't know how you come up with them but I've never heard such lame jokes," you observed resting your head on his shoulder

"They made you laugh tho, right?" he smirked looking at you compelling you to meet his gaze

"No one can make me laugh like you do Alfie." you sweetly complimented him caressing his face with your gloved hand giving a quick peck on his cheek.

"We're here Mr Solomons, sir." the voice of the driver startles you, having forgotten about him for a moment, too wrapped in your bubble with Alfie.

"Right. You stay here love okay? You can come and say hi to Tommy when we're finished but first let us talk business alright?" he softly orders you holding your hands in his before retrieving his cane from the floor of the vehicle.

"Yes sir." you mock him giggling when you hear him mumbling something under his breath

When both he and the driver had gotten out of the car you looked around the place they had parked. Tommy hadn't arrived yet or at least you couldn't see him. After a couple of minutes, you heard the sound of an engine and soon after Tommy walked in front of Alfie.

You couldn't hear what they were saying but studying their body language you took comfort seeing as their body were both relaxed until the unthinkable happened. Tommy pointed a gun at Alfie. The breath gut stuck in your throat and you were unable to move or breathe at the thought of Alfie being shot. Then as soon as it came the shock left your body or it shifted it into action and you quickly left the car and run in front of him, in a foolish attempt of shielding his body with yours. Of course, it wouldn't work, you were half of his size, but you hoped that your presence would stop Tommy from actually shooting at least.

"Tommy! Put the gun down, what is going on?" you frantically asked trying to calm him

"What the fuck are you doing y/n, I told you to stay in the fucking car." Alfie's voice roared from behind you and his hands tried to shove you away but his push wasn't that strong and you used all your strength not to bulge.

"Does she know Alfie? Did you tell her?" Tommy ignored you and kept shouting at Alfie.

"What are you talking about Tommy?" being directly mentioned, you asked curiously.

"I don't know what the fuck are you talking about mate" Alfie calmly answered him but somehow it only managed to anger Tommy more.

"Oh, you don't know eh? You're telling me that you don't know how you went behind my back and did a deal with the OddFellows telling them everything about our deal with the soviets eh?" Tommy explained anger clinging from every word.

"Listen sweetie, there were things in that treasury that God himself told me to get. He spoke to me."

"You crossed the line, Alfie!" Tommy barked.

"You fucking what?" Alfie replied almost offended at the accusation.

"They're using my boy!" Tommy was fuming with rage and rightly so. The insinuation that Alfie could have had a role in the kidnapping of Charlie made you let out a squick of surprise and horror.

"Did you know?" he continued

"Listen Tommy, I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding. He wouldn't do something like this, right Alfie?" you mediate trying to get him to calm down.

"Did you fucking know?" Tommy ignored you, his eyes focused only on Alfie.

"Yeah, I knew but damned as I am, made no fucking difference to me mate," Alfie confessed leaving you speechless and heartbroken. How could the man that shows you kindness and love be the same that had helped to kidnap a child?

The words hadn't even left his mouth that Thomas bulged at him like a mad bull pinning Alfie to the ground after pushing you aside.

Stunned by the sudden movement and the impact with the concrete, you shuffle to get up to try and pull them apart. Fortunately, Alfie's driver was quicker than you and yanked Tommy off his boss. You managed to get on your feet at the same time that a young man appeared out of nowhere and killed Alfie's driver.

"Alfie!" you couldn't help but call for him, scared for his life knowing that he's outnumbered and weakened by his sciatica. You try to help him off the ground but he refuses your help and stumbles away from you, focused on the new threat embodied by Tommy's man.

"What's the matter with you, Tommy, eh? You got fucking angry ain't you?" Alfie charged at him, holding his face dangerously close to Tommy's not giving a flying fuck about the precarious situation he was in.

Fortunately, Tom's man got in the way and pulled him apart when things started to go south again. You were uselessly hanging behind, observing the scene unfold in front of you feeling powerless for there was nothing you could do to stop them. You would only make it worse if you put yourself between them because Alfie then would have to worry about you too and you couldn't risk him being distracted because of you.

Feeling dizzy, you lean against the wall behind you sliding down on the ground. Maybe it was all the shouting or maybe it was for the way you hit your head on the ground. Thing is that you couldn't bear to keep your eyes open nor focus on what was happening between the three men. You heard Alfie angrily make his point about the unfairness of Tommy's reaction or something of the sort, you weren't really paying attention. Then as you felt your head spin less and less you heard a voice advising against the killing of Alfie Solomons. Then footsteps. Then voices speaking in a hushed tone and finally the sound of a car driving away.

You finally managed to open up your eyes and you were met with a man's corpse on the ground and Alfie's stiff figure standing near it. Steading your breath, you go for standing up. The movement seems to bring Alfie back to earth and he quickly strides over to you.

"Fuck pet, are you hurt?" he scans over your face and body looking for any bruises.

"What happened Alfie?" you ignored his worry, requesting an explanation for what you had just witnessed.

"Let's get in the car love, okay?" he softly pushes you towards the vehicle but you didn't obey. You couldn't, you needed to know.

"I love you, Alfie, alright? And I take pride in knowing that I'm one of the few people who know you, that really know you. My Alfie would never do such a thing. I would bet on my soul that he wouldn't, so please please tell me that I'm not being delusional, that you didn't know about Charlie." you plead looking into his eyes watching as his gaze softens when you tell him that you love him and refer to him as yours.

Moved by your blind faith in him, he simply cradles your face in his hands letting your foreheads touch.

"You're the only one who really knows me, love, the only one," he whispers on your lips and a soft whimper leaves your mouth in anticipation.

"I didn't know about Tommy's boy and I'm so so sorry that you got caught up in this mess, love. Your trust in me amazes me and it just shows that I don't fucking deserve you."

"Oh shut it and come here, I was so scared Tommy was going to shoot you." you hurriedly say pulling him to you. Your lips touched and his arms found their way around your waist while yours stroked his beautiful face. Maybe you should have realized that this was inappropriate given the dead man lying only a couple feet away from you. Neither of you cared though, too engrossed in each other. This man could make you worry like a mother for his child giving you almost a heart attack but gosh if he wasn't worth it.

His love made it worth it.

[bunnis-babes]

Can you give us karasuno mafia au Hc's pleaaaase

Karasuno as a Mafia

Okay, this was just kind of sitting here for a while, mainly because I didn’t see it until now? Idk man, but I know I can write this shit and I should’ve had it out like fifty years ago bc I know exactly what this AU is like to me. So I hope its enjoyable!

Brief Karasuno History: Karasuno, once one of the most powerful households in the prefecture, fell after the passing of the then Godfather. Eventually causing strong members to leave and join more… profitable organizations. It went through several different heads, before the position was just dropped on Ittetsu Takeda. It was on the brink of totally collapsing when Sawamura — alongside his close comrades Sugawara and Asahi — joined. He quickly became one of the best men Karasuno had seen in years, and he was determined to make Karasuno the Powerhouse it once was, again. To do that they had to find members, but they couldn’t just ask high ranking men to join, they’d be laughed at or smothered out. So with some sweet convincing from Suga, Takeda okayed taking in scrappy kids off the streets was the best idea - they had nothing to loose, especially not when they were offered a place to stay and food just for some work they’d already been doing. Thus began the rise of the Powerhouse. Karasuno.

Specialties: Karasuno is more of a Jack of all trades, but they do specialize in paid services, such as: Selling/Making of drugs, Buying/Selling of guns, Assassinations, and Bodygaurding.

Takeda: The current Godfather of Karasuno. He has no clue what he’s doing, this whole operation just handed to him out of nowhere because the former leader had given up on this rough group of kids. He was always just a lowly underling who hardly even did any dirty work - and yet this position was placed upon his shoulders, and damnit if he wasn’t gonna do his best. So luck must’ve smiled upon him, when three scrappy boys stumbled into his house holding the same fire and passion to save this place that he did. He even gets one of the former Godfather’s grandson to help him out - as he can’t help these kids in anyway when he hardly knows what’s happening.

Ukai: He didn’t want this. He was trying to avoid this lifestyle, but something about Takeda’s persistence really made him crack. So, this poor man, agrees to join on as Takeda’s right hand - though he winds up doing way more work than him anyway. He has far more experience, coming from a family filled with high ranking members, so he learned from the best. While Takeda handles more of the mild planning and business, he’s hands on with the boys and teaching them everything they know, as well as setting some things up behind the scenes.

Daichi: He’s pretty much the big guy that everyone answers to before going to Ukai or Takeda. Before Karasuno he specialized in the making and selling of drugs alongside Suga, as well as the occasional underground fight for just a bit more money. It was initially to help his family get by, as his mother couldn’t support three children on her own. He came to Karasuno when business was low, and he knew he would need a few extra hands, but had been denied by ever other group. When he joins he become the go to guy to do whatever dirty job he’s needed - and he isn’t afraid to get dirty. Also, he becomes the honorary dad of the house (even in the mafia he is still Dadchi).

Sugawara: He’s more or less of the hitman/nurse of the group. He knows how to make all kinds of medicine - legal and illegal - as well as how to patch up all different kinds of injuries. (He had to with the fights Daichi was going through.) He’s incredibly skilled with a gun, he just hasn’t really used one all that much so he’s sloppy at time. Damn if he isn’t brutal. By far Sugawara is the most brutal killer at Karasuno, especially if his target has wronged him or his house in anyway. He sees everyone at Karasuno as family, and you don’t just mess with Suga’s family and live.

Asahi: He is the muscle. Those fists alone do some serious damage - he does a lot of the disposing and intimidating. He’s an amazing fighter too, knows how to move just right from all those years fighting illegally on the streets just to survive and get by. He fought Daichi a few times when he still participated in underground fight clubs, and kind of became friends with him - as well as Noya who thought so highly of him(we’ll get into that soon). Now if only he didn’t freeze up in super high stakes mission. It still rings true that he’s a gentle giant, and he doesn’t like hurting people unless he absolutely has to, so he gets nervous easily. He earned himself a reputation that’s to be feared, and also to be challenged.

Nishinoya & Tanaka: These two little shits are a tag team that grew up side by side. Both their families were poor so they lived in the slums, and the two boys grew up around violence and had to learn to fight from a young age to stay alive. While Tanaka only learned to fight solely to survive, Noya learned not just to survive but because his father was part of a rather large house and valued having his son know how to fight. They trained themselves to fight side by side, and became a scary double threat. Noya and him fought in the same ring Daichi and Asahi did, and Noya made rather good friends with Asahi, even learning some moves from just watching him - he was pissed when he left the fight club. Thats how Daichi knew about the two, and he approached them - of course they joined and became a kind of wild card in house - a rather dangerous tag team that can pretty easily get out of any situation they’re stuck in. Plus, Tanaka is really fucking good at intimidation.

Tsukkishima: He’s a jack of all trades who was raised by a small gang with Yamaguchi. He left the gang when he found himself bored with it, Yamaguchi following him with his tail between his legs. Joined Karasuno on a whim after witnessing one of their fights and deciding ‘why the hell not?’ He is, like previously stated, a Jake of all trades. He’s smart, fast, strong, and sneaky. His performance, however depends on how many shits he’s giving that day… Which is typically zero. Not to say when he doesn’t care he’s bad, he just doesn’t do his best because he doesn’t see the point in trying all that hard. Also, he despises Kageyama and Hinata - not only are they annoying, but they’re stupidly talented on accident (well in one case) and that pisses him off.

Yamaguchi: This poor boy is so nervous like all the time. He follows Tsukkishima around like a kicked puppy because he’s the only person this poor boy can truly trust. (Some really bad shit went down in his life, he needs a hug). Yam’s, though nervous, has pretty amazing aim with a gun he’s just so shaky that he can be off. He would be a fantastic sniper for the group, and Ukai pushes his training hard because he knows he can do it, he just has to be a little bit more confident. That’s easier said than done with Yamaguchi.

Kageyama: He used to work under the Seijoh house, but was cast out for being too difficult to work with (plus the new leader hated him *cough*Oikawa*cough*). He wasn’t exactly too keen on working with any other houses, but he ran into Daichi who made Karasuno seem so enticing that couldn’t resist it. Only when he got there, he found one of the kids he fought and beat while working under Seijoh was there. The little squirt whom he hated so much after he dared to challenge him with a face beaten to a bloody bruised mess. He was supposed to work alongside this guy. Bullshit. Once they get over their initial dumbassery and fighting, they’re probably the scariest tag team in Karasuno. Fast and unpredictable, building off each others intense energy to beat the ever living fuck out of whoever they’re against. Kageyama alone is scary too, he’s calculating and strong and fast - he knows his enemy better than they do sometimes. He’s also scarily calm even after he’s killed an army of grunts.

Hinata: He’s new to the whole thing, well kind of. He grew up watching all this go down from outside his window, trying his best to keep his mom and sister safe from all this horrifying carnage as best her can with his small untrained body. His first real experience with the whole mafia world was when he and a few of his friends were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had a run in with Seijoh. He and his friends were nearly beaten to death, but were kindly spared as a warning. Still he found the strength to stand and promise to their leader that he would beat his ass right back when he finally faced off with him again. So imagine his surprise when at his first official house, he realized he would have to work with the guy who he both challenged and was nearly killed by. He’s a rookie for sure, everything he does is clumsy and sloppy and needs work, but he’s fast. He works on instinct that gets him in and out of trouble. He’s a real risk factor, but he’s also one of their strongest contenders.

Kiyoko & Yachi: They were both children of businessmen who tended to deal with less than favorable people. Kiyoko joined first after gaining permission to do so from her parents, and became the first person to work for intel at Karasuno. Yachi joined shortly after Hinata and Kageyama, only doing so after Kiyoko expressed her affections for the household and how she could really use the extra help. Their job is purely to gather information on other houses, clients, and potential job opportunities. They help everything flow smoothly between the heads of the house and the boys who do all the work.

A/N: This is less of a head cannon thing and more of my messy ramblings on something that I got too passionate about. I really hope that this was like… okay? It’s really really messy, but this is kinda what I imagined this would be like. I hope that like… you liked this, and that all their things made sense. Idk man I’m tired. (Also, hope you don’t mind I excluded the other boys ;-; I was getting sleepy)

[geminiamethyst]

The Phoenix. Chapter 10: Reunited.

Boy this chapter was a pain! So is writer’s block!

Sorry this chapter took a while, I had to rethink it a couple of times to make it seem right.

Hope you guys enjoy it.

Wind rushing through him, the Hobgoblin raced across the sky. His black panther streaked across the air so fast, that the cloak and top hat that the magician wore almost threatened to be blown off. His eyes scanned the world below him, slowly becoming tired and sore. He had been at this since he promised to find Kyun. He went back to Damien’s domain, only to find it completely abandoned. Even the damage that Shin had inflicted to the place hadn’t been repaired. The Hobgoblin wouldn’t be too surprised that the reason that Damien had abandoned ship was because he didn’t want Kyun or Shin to come after him. He had been trying to find traces as to where Kyun may have gone. Surprisingly enough, all the evidence as to where he could’ve been was well taken care of. Clearly, he was being extra cautious, not wanting to get caught by the Organisation again. Also, Shin was correct. As he searched, the Hobgoblin found that he was going back towards the mountain. Kyun really was getting closer to the hideout. That was a puzzling and scary revelation to come across. If Kyun wasn’t careful, and if the Hobgoblin didn’t agree to help find him, then the Snufkin could’ve unknowingly led the Organisation right to Shin. The Hobgoblin needed to hurry. As soon as he got close to Kyun, his magic would be able to block the Organisation from tracking him. Then, and only then, will the Hobgoblin not have to worry about anything else for now.

Rubbing his eyes to give them a minute, the Hobgoblin sighed. A part of him wondered how a Snufkin could’ve moved so quick to get to Shin. He realised that their bond must have been strong enough to feel each other’s presence whenever they were separated. After thinking about for a second, the magician started to scan the area once again. That was when he noticed it. Smoke. Grey smoke that was rising from the ground. It was clearly from a campfire, as there was no sign to indicate that it was a forest fire. However, it was coming out in short bursts, as if someone was deliberately covering it for a few seconds before releasing it and repeating the method over and over again. This was obviously deliberate. It was used to grab someone’s attention. Was it the Hobgoblin who was meant to see it? Not taking anything to chance, the magician directed his loyal animal towards the smoke, bracing himself should it be a trap.

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Kyun slowly came to a stop as he felt his wrist stiffen up a little while he played. He wasn’t sure why that was the case. He put it down to not playing the instrument for a while. After all he had spent most of the time running from the Organisation. He glanced over at Ken, who didn’t seemed too fazed by Kyun stopping his music. He was clearly more focused on the smoke signals. He ignored the soot that covered his fingertips and the black specks that acted like freckles on his face. Sweat dripped off of his skin like a river as the heat was starting to get to him, making him a little dizzy. Despite all that though, he kept pushing himself to keep doing what he was doing.

“Don’t fall asleep. Snuf!” Mumrik suddenly shouted, making the other two Snufkins snap their heads towards him. He looked desperate, almost like he was about to start crying. Snuf looked much worse. His hair was almost completely white, save for the incredibly few stands of hair on his head. The ice had engulfed the one side of his neck, creeping along the other side of his neck, his chin and cheek. His lips were ice blue and dark circles started to form under his eyes. His shivering was slowing down, become more and more silent. His eyes were dull and were starting to close completely. He tried to keep them open, but he was losing the battle.

“Snuf! You’ve got to keep your eyes open. Hey!” Kyun joined in, leaving his guitar on the ground and going to Mumrik’s side. He lightly patted Snuf’s face to try to get him to be more awake, but it wasn’t doing much. The youngest only continued to close his eyes and become even more limp. Even his breathing started to fade away. Kyun hissed suddenly as he felt the ice prick at his bare skin. He retracted his hands so quick that he almost fell over backwards. He examined his hands to make sure that he wasn’t starting to freeze too. Thankfully the ice on his skin melted within seconds.

“Mumrik, you’re gonna have to move him off of you.” He said, fearing what might happen if Mumrik didn’t do as he was told.

“But-“ Mumrik started to protest.

“You might freeze too. I know you want to help warm him up, but we can’t take that risk.” Kyun hissed, cutting his friend off. Mumrik shook his head a little but looked down at his hands. Ice was slowly creeping onto his hands and he could feel it on his lap. Biting his lip, he slowly and carefully moved Snuf off of him. The youngest didn’t do anything as a protest. He was far too weak to do anything. Mumrik looked away, once again feeling the guilt weigh on him like an anchor. He ignored it as best he could by warming his hands and brushing the ice from his clothes.

Ken snuck a glance over to what was happening, only to quickly turn away. He couldn’t bare to see a friend like that. He needed to focus on these smoke signals. Someone, anyone had to see them. They need to hurry up and get here. If they don’t come then they’ll have to think of something else. Or, Booble forbid, prepare for the worst case scenario. Ken shook his head furiously at that thought. ‘Don’t think like that, idiot!‘ he shouted internally. He promptly wiped the sweat that cascaded down his forehead. He continued creating the smoke signals, hoping that he would get the result that he and the others needed.

As if his prayers had answered, a loud growl erupted very suddenly from the sky. The trio looked up at the blue sky. Streaking down towards them, in a blur of dark colours, was the Hobgoblin himself. His panther landed gracefully on the ground, a breeze and small dust cloud following behind it. As the Hobgoblin climbed off of his companion, Kyun couldn’t help but give him a hard stare. Despite knowing that the magician was on their side, he still couldn’t help but feel anger towards him.

“Which one of you is Kyun?” The Hobgoblin suddenly asked, walking towards the group.

“That’s me.” Kyun stated as he stepped forward. The Hobgoblin studied him  with wise eyes. It was as if he was staring right into Kyun’s soul, making him feel a little uncomfortable.

“Shin asked me to find you. I’m to take you to him.” The Magician explained, believing that he was looking at who he was searching for. Kyun was taken aback by this. Shin really did ask the Hobgoblin to find him? He felt happy at this, but that was only for a moment. He needs to get things straightened out quickly or it could end disastrously for Snuf.

“Not without my friends. Especially if you can help Snuf.” Kyun argued, stepping aside so Snuf could be seen. The Hobgoblin’s stoic face suddenly looked shocked. He darted over to the youngest and had a closer look at his condition. Mumrik stood back, letting the magician look at his friend better.

“How did this happen?” The Hobgoblin asked, gently pressing his gloved hand to Snuf’s forehead.

“The Lady of the Cold did this to him. Is there a cure?” Ken asked as he dowsed the fire and smothered it with dirt.

“Maybe....” the Hobgoblin muttered. He suddenly took off his cloak. He wrapped it around Snuf like a baby. He gently lifted the freezing Snufkin up into his arms. Mumrik felt his heart clench uncontrollably as he, Kyun and Ken saw how limp Snuf had rapidly gotten. Kyun saw the look on his face and instantly placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. Mumrik didn’t respond other than looking down in defeat.

“I will carry your friend on my panther but you’ll have to follow me as closely as you can.” The Hobgoblin explained, climbing onto the back of his panther. The others picked up their things, Kyun taking Snuf’s voluntarily. Ken recovered his coat since Snuf wasn’t using it for his head anymore. He shook it as hard as he could, clearing all the ice off of it. Seeing this, the Hobgoblin silently commanded his panther to take flight. The others didn’t hesitate in running after them. Being careful of the roots sticking out of the ground, they kept up as much as they can.

By time the panther had landed the group couldn’t stop panting and sweating bullets. It took all they had not to collapse as they felt like they had just stepped off of a boat. As they caught their breath, they realised where they were. They were at the very base of the mountain, where the forest had thinned out a little. Before them was the gaping mouth of a dark cave. The Hobgoblin climbed off of his panther again. He looked at the three standing I; front of him.

“After you.” He said, trying to be polite. Kyun wasn’t sure. He was about to protest but decided not to. He figured that there would be no point in wasting his breath. Cautiously, he walked inside the cave, Mumrik and Ken slowly following behind him. The Hobgoblin and his panther strode behind them. The cave was immensely dark, no light at all. It took a moment as the Snufkins eyes adjusted to the dark. As they continued along the cave, the walls started to become smooth. This wasn’t just a cave, it was a long, straight tunnel. Kyun couldn’t help but wonder how long the tunnel went on for. He was met with his answer as he could faintly make out a door in the dark. The feeling that he had since he and Shin were supersets grew stronger. Heart beating in his ears, Kyun reaches out a hand and turned the cool, brass doorknob.

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“Shin, please try to eat something this morning. You barely ate last night for crying out loud.” Fredriksson sighed as he observed the Snufkin. Shin only sighed, a little annoyed as he felt like he was treated like a child. He absentmindedly picked at a loose thread the sleeve of his father’s coat. After a bit debate in his mind, he decided to wear it after all, the lost child part of him wanting to be close to his parents in some way. He was starting to get sick of being stuck inside the mountain. Turns out this whole place was slap bang in the middle of it, supposedly providing one of the best hiding places on the planet. That would explain why there are no windows. However, even though the air was provided by magic, Shin felt like he was being suffocated.

“Leave him be, Fredriksson. He’s probably still processing all the information we gave him yesterday. Not to mention he’s missing his boyfriend. Kid’s having it rough.” Joxter whispered, trying to be as quiet as he could, sensing Shin’s discomfort.

“I can still hear you.” Shin grumbled as he grabbed the cup of coffee he was provided with.

“I’m sorry Shin. We’re all just a little stressed out.” Fredriksson tried to explain, looking a little ashamed of himself. To Shin, that was a poor excuse. There was no reason for them to be fussing over him like that.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Shin sighed, looking away from the men. Fredriksson and Joxter went silent. It gave the Snufkin a little peace of mind. He didn’t need all this attention just because he was the host of the Phoenix. A part of him still denied it, but the rational side of him took over, convincing him that what he was told was true.

Shin raised the cup to his lips, but stopped suddenly. There was a sharp feeling going through his body. It wasn’t painful or anything. It was just something that he felt suddenly. It was liking he was sensing that something was coming, getting closer. No, it was someone, not something. ‘Kyun...’ He thought, a small gracing his face. He suddenly stood up, and, ignoring the questioning looks that he got from the men in the room, stood out in the corridor. At the end, staring back at him, was Kyun. He looked tired but had overwhelming joy written all over his face. Shin could feel his smile grow a little wider. Before he could blink, Kyun had already charged towards him, dumping his knapsack as he did so. Shin braces himself as the other Snufkin wrapped his arms around him tightly. They almost fell over if it wasn’t for Shin being ready. They held each other tightly, refusing to let go for even one second. The missing part of themselves has been found. They now felt complete, taking comfort in each other’s warmth.

“Are you alright?” Shin suddenly asked, not entirely sure where else he could start.

“You idiot! I should be asking you that.” Kyun exclaimed, pulling away from Shin to look at him in the eyes. He had noticed that his boyfriend was wearing a different coat but he was too happy to even comment on it. Shin suddenly focused his eyes at something. He gently brushed a thumb at a spot on Kyun’s head. Kyun felt his heart skip a beat. That was the scar he got after Shin... “Oh! This? Don’t worry about it. I’ve had this scar for years. You’ve just never noticed it before.” A weak lie, Kyun knew that by that look Shin had on his face. A look of guilt. Kyun bit his lip a little and held Shin’s cheek. That was when Shin noticed Ken and Mumrik. Both of them looking just as weary as Kyun did.

“You’ve all made it. You’re all alright.” Shin smiled a little, glad that he could see those that Kyun trusted by his side.

“Not quite all of us.” Mumbled Mumrik. He was so quiet that Shin barely heard him. The younger looked over his shoulder, more concerned about what was behind him. Shin followed his gaze and felt like someone had just punched harshly in the gut. The Hobgoblin stood behind them, his black panther by his side. In his arms, wrapped up in several layers, including the magician’s cloak, was Snuf. He seemed disturbingly different from when Shin last saw him. His hair was stark white and his skin was deathly pale. Ice was creeping along his skin. He seemed too still for Shin’s liking. He seemed more dead than alive.

“What...what happened to-“ Shin started to ask, not quite believing what he saw.

“Shin, I need you to come with me.” The Hobgoblin suddenly declared, walking on ahead. As he took long strides, Snuf limply bounced up and down in his arms, almost like a rag doll.

“Wait! What-“ Shin tried to ask.

“Quickly now. There’s not much time left.” The Hobgoblin encouraged, continuing to walk down the dim corridor. The four glanced at each other curiously before Shin started to follow the magician. By that point, Joxter and Fredriksson had come out to see what was happening. The others had started to follow Shin, when Joxter opened his mouth to ask what was going on. Kyun only responded to this by bumping his shoulder. Either he didn’t notice or didn’t even care as he kept on walking.

“Charming.” Joxter muttered sarcastically, crossing his arms.

“You’re going to have to forgive him. He’s had a bit of a tough time.” Ken sighed, patting the man’s shoulder gently as he walked past. He continued on with Mumrik trailing behind him. He had this lost expression on his face, as if he was trying to hope for a good outcome.

“Hold on a minute. Young man can you tell us what’s going on here?” Fredriksson asked as he tried to keep up with Ken. Joxter sighed exasperatedly before following the group like a stray dog after food.

“Long story short, our friend got hit by an ice arrow curtesy of the Lady of the Cold and now he’s freezing to death.” Ken stated, speeding his pace up a little. Shin tried to ignore the people behind him. He couldn’t work out why the Hobgoblin suddenly wanted him to follow him. He suspected that he might need help with Snuf in the infirmary that was here. However, he felt like Fredriksson would be better suited to help. He stopped as soon as the Hobgoblin stood in front of a door that had a first aid symbol engraved in it. Shin opened the door for him since the magician couldn’t do it himself.

“I need the rest of you to wait outside.” The Hobgoblin suddenly said

“What? Why?” Kyun shouted, tensing up at this. He just got back with Shin, he wasn’t going to let the one person he held close out his sight again.

“Kyun, it’s alright. If you don’t trust him then trust me. I’ll be fine.” Shin reassured, his voice sounding strong. He could tell that Kyun was ready to kick off a fuss if he didn’t say something. Kyun opened his mouth to protest, but he sighed in defeat. If Shin truly trusted the people that helped to protect him, then Kyun will have to as well. Shin sighed silently in relief and stepped inside the infirmary, the Hobgoblin following behind him. The door closed quietly behind them.

“Come with us. There’s an observation room next door.” Fredriksson said, gently gesturing Kyun towards another door. The Snufkins went inside the dark room quietly, with Fredriksson and Joxter silently following behind them.

Chapter 1: Still Running (click HERE)

Chapter 2: The Burning Truth (click HERE)

Chapter 3: Secrets and Threats (click HERE)

Chapter 4: Still Fighting (click HERE)

Chapter 5: What Have You Done?! (click HERE)

Chapter 6: Not Again (click HERE)

Chapter 7: The Thunder Sword (click HERE)

Chapter 8: The Journal (click HERE)

Chapter 9: Creeping Frost (click HERE)

Chapter 11: coming soon...

[macabretrees]

Title: Reprimand A/N: Read here on ao3 @diversetolkien Summary:  When Aziraphale makes an offhanded comment about snakes and their eyes, Crowley takes it to heart. Upon realizing what he's done, Aziraphale moves to make amends. or Crowley is insecure about a lot of things--his eyes included. Unfortunately, Aziraphale forgets this when comforting a girl who is terrified by a snake toy.

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It wasn't often that Crowley enjoyed his time outside. There was something about the wide outdoors that made him feel exposed. The demon couldn't put his finger on it, but his kind didn't do the light. Not when they'd waged an entire war trying to escape it, and not when they bore the scars of the Fall as plain as day.

Crowley wore the glasses to cover his and had unintentionally evolved the gesture into covering his entire body. He kept to himself often, drew his posture in, and hunched his shoulders. He kept away from people--too close and they'd see his eyes, or smell the burning, or notice the way he leaned too freely like a snake or stayed still like a statue.

And when he had to be in public, it was with Aziraphale. He bared it for Aziraphale. His angel who loved the light, who loved to be exposed, and who loved to be conversational (to the point of dragging Crowley along with him). Today was one of those days.

Between the ice-cream man and the friendly dog owners, Aziraphale had spoken to just about everyone in the park while Crowley lurked behind him. It was hard to make conversation with his partner when he'd given his full attention to the humans, but the demon wasn't too bothered. It was nice to watch Aziraphale interact with the very beings he was meant to protect. It was in his nature after all, and Crowley found himself leeching onto the angel's happiness.

Though today it was short-lived.

Aziraphale was midsentence in his conversation with a park worker about the different types of plants lining the walkway and their care when a child came ramming into his legs at full force. Crowley looked down slightly concerned but hid his gaze behind his glasses. He'd always had a soft spot for children, but this was better left to Aziraphale.

"Oh dear, little one, what on Earth is the matter?" Aziraphale, ever the angel, knelt down to the distraught child's level. She was a mess of tears and hiccups, though upon settling her eyes on the angel she seemed to calm. Crowley kept a distance away, just in case the little girl's gaze wandered.

The little girl, seemingly calm, managed to gather her stammering words and still her quivering lips, just long enough to say two words: "S-snake eyes!"

Aziraphale made to turn over his shoulder, the gesture barely noticeable to anyone accept Crowley. But the girl's whimpers reclaimed his attention, and Crowley's throat suddenly felt very tight. Not to mention, he felt guilty. It was he who caused humanity to fear snake after all.

"What on earth do you mean, little one? Have you seen a snake?" There was a slight edge in his voice, though barely audible to human ears. But Crowley didn't have to think twice to know what the angle worried about. Even with his shades on, at the right angle, the sun could--

"My-my brother g-got a t-toy that w-was a snake and h-he chased me a-around with it, and I-I got scared. It-its eyes were scary, l-like on a movie." Whatever calm Aziraphale had placed upon her seemed to disappear as she willed imaged of whatever movie had traumatized her back into her mind. Once more, she was a mess of tears and hiccups.

Though Crowley was happy. It hadn't been him.

"Oh dear one, come here." She threw herself onto the angle like a life source, her tiny arms trying to encircle his body. For someone who hated getting his clothes dirty, Aziraphale seemed little bothered by a crying child smothering her wet face in his jacket.

"They are ghastly things, aren't they dear. Bright and yellow, positively scary for one such as yourself."

The relief had withered away, and all that was left was a feeling of emptiness. Crowley felt more self-aware than he had in a long time. Bright and yellow? Ghastly? Was that really what Aziraphale thought of his eyes? A hopeful part of him wanted to believe otherwise, but the demonic part of him--the one that whispered uncertainties and insecurities in his ears, learned towards the more reasonable side. The girl hadn't even described what kind of eyes she'd seen, yet Aziraphale had just offered a description of his.

"Angel, I just realized I had some business I needed to attend to." He said with a slight hysteria in his voice, trying his absolute best to sound casual. And judging by the angel's pure obliviousness, he'd accomplished it.

"Crowley do you think you could wait? On top of being terrified this poor girl is lost. I was wondering if you could help me look for her brother! She says he's here."

"Oh, I don't know about that. With the ghastly, yellow eyes, maybe I wouldn't be the best person for the job."

Now there was a realization, and Aziraphale whipped his head around like he'd been slapped.

"I hadn't even realized, Crowley, oh goodness I didn't mean--" He was torn between leaving the girl alone and running after the demon, but ultimately his nature and Crowley's reprimand stayed his movements.

"It's alright, Aziprahle. You said what you needed to say, no use in arguing."

Whatever Aziraphale said, Crowley didn't hear. In a rush, he vacated the park.

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Aziraphale had nearly thrown himself into a mad frenzy searching for the demon. As soon as he'd relocated the little girl and her brother, and given the latter a stern scolding about teasing his sister, he'd made his way to his book shop. It had been a silly mistake, as there was no way Crowley would return to the shop. Not when Aziraphale had hurt him.

Now, his sanctuary of safety had been anything but. His largest insecurities had been spat in his face, and Aziraphale had been the cause of them all. He ran to the phone and dialed Crowely's number, waiting anxiously as the dial tone went on and on. With every ring, his heart plummeted, and when the phone went to voicemail, he stopped breathing.

The right thing to do was to hang up and wait, and while Aziraphale did the former he hesitated to do the latter. Crowley wanted to be alone. That much was obvious. But Aziraphale was selfish at his core, especially when it came to Crowley. What he'd done was inconsiderate and terrible, especially considering how insecure he knew Crowley was. And while Aziraphale meant no harm, his habit of running his mouth had hurt the one he loved the most.

Moreover, encroaching on his privacy would no doubt hurt him more. The angel sighed and redialed Croweley's number. When the phone went to voice mail, he did the proper thing and left a heartfelt message.

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The next day, Crowley stood awkwardly outside of the bookshop just as the sun settled in the sky. There weren't many people out, and they're certainly weren't many people out near the bookshop. According to its erratic hours, today it was closed. That said, Crowley had the key, and was invited to visit whenever he wanted.

However, the more he stood in silence, the more he thought that showing up was a bad idea. There was no telling how Aziraphale actually felt about him, and while he was initially devastated that his angel had found his eyes unappealing, making him uncomfortable would absolutely ruin Crowley.

Right, thought Crowley, best to count my losses and just go back to the flat. No use in c-

"Crowley?"

Just as he made to turn on his heel and disappear, the door swung open to reveal a rather dejected looking angel who's eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of Crowley. And while Crowley's heart jumped, he kept his expression schooled.

"Well do come in." Aziraphale broke the silence and stepped aside letting Crowley enter, and though the demon was hesitant he willed his body to move passed over the threshold. He showed himself to the sitting room as usual, though he stood awkwardly before he took his typical seat, and in fact waited for Aziraphale to seat himself first. Some might call it overreacting, but he genuinely did not know where he stood.

"I got your message." He avoided the angel's gaze as he spoke, instead, looking at his feet against the smooth floor.

"I see." Aziraphale cleared his throat, and straightened himself up in his chair, "You should know I meant it. What I said about snakes and their eyes--"

As Aziraphale spoke, Crowley tensed. He hadn't expected the angel to get to the point so quickly, but he was never one for beating around the bush. Crowley supposed he should be grateful, but acknowledging the situation at hand seemed to hurt him more than he thought.

"Was completely uncalled for. I admit it hadn't even registered to me that I'd offended you with what I said. But then you said what you said, then ran, and had gotten all small like you do when you get upset."

"I don't get all small." Crowley interjected, "I just don't like to be seen."

"Well regardless of what it was, I was in the wrong. There is nothing wrong with your eyes, Crowley. Or any other serpent's eyes for that matter. In all truth, your eyes are some of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

The demon scoffed, "You don't mean that, angel."

He wanted so badly to believe Aziraphale, but he was just so uncertain. If his eyes had truly bothered him, what else about the demon did? And what if he was telling the truth? What if he had genuinely made a mistake. Would Crowley be willing to risk an episode like this again?

"I don't lie, Crowley." He was upon him in a second and had moved so quietly that Crowley hadn't even noticed he'd left his chair.

"I do, however, run my mouth. And I will endeavor to watch what I say in the future" Now his hands had made their way to the handles of Crowley's glasses, and gently he removed the shades from the demon's face.

"But make no mistake Crowley, your eyes are beautiful. You are beautiful. And that is something I will never take back"

Crowley would have looked away, but Aziraphale's gentle hold kept him from doing so. And in the angel's eyes was pure remorse and genuine love.

Suddenly, Crowley felt foolish for even making a fuss out of it. Maybe he could have just asked Aziraphale how he felt instead of storming off.

"I'm sorry for overreacting, Angel," Crowley said as his own fingers wrapped around Aziraphale's wrist.

"Nonsense, you're entitled to your feelings." Aziraphale chided, "never feel bad for speaking out."

Crowley sighed, and let his face lean in Aziraphale's grasp.

[honeybee-babe]

Sharing is Caring (Except When You’re Sick) Chapter 7 (Sick Luther and Klaus)

Part 7 of my collab with @hargreevesstyles, sick Luther and sick Klaus, can also be read on her blog, yadda yadda yadda

bada bing bada boom

Allison made Luther drink three glasses of water before she put him back to bed, pulling the blankets back up to his chin. He was shaking a bit, and his forehead was a little bit damp, but she chalked it up to dehydration. She left the now-empty garbage bin by his side, just to be safe.

She frowned at the way Luther kept clutching at his throat and wincing, even as he drifted off to sleep. She considered giving him some more throat spray or some more cough syrup, but she decided against it. Gag reflex factor ran way too high with those, and she’d rather have him suffer through a sore throat than risk the chance of him losing any more of his body’s water content.

Then Allison thought to take his temperature again.  She went to go find a thermometer. As she walked past Klaus’ room she heard Five talking to Klaus and Klaus responding with a few harsh sneezes. Allison chuckled to herself as she heard Klaus scold Five for not blessing him. So much for him getting some sleep.

Allison found a thermometer in the kitchen and then brought it back up to Luther’s room. He was fast asleep on his bed, but Allison decided she still needed to know his temperature. She slipped the thermometer through his parted lips, they were dry and cracked. She made a mental note to pick up some chapstick—Klaus’ lips had been chapped as well.

Luther’s temperature read back as 104.3 and Allison nearly lost her shit. She scrambled to the kitchen, remembering that that was where they left Diego. He wasn’t there. Allison frantically ran about the house shouting for him. As she strode past the front door she slammed into Vanya who was just returning from rehearsal.

“Oh my god Vanya Luther’s temperature is so high it’s almost the same as Klaus’ when he passed out and I don’t know what to do I can’t find Diego and Five is watching over Klaus and-“

“What the hell? Klaus passed out?”

Allison nodded, not realizing how much Vanya had missed.

“That’s it I’m canceling my lessons for today.” Vanya whipped her phone out and started sending messages as Allison lead her upstairs to Luther’s room. “How is Klaus doing? How long has it been since he passed out? Is he okay?”

“Five is in there with him, Vanya,” Allison said. She felt bad but her concern was really focused on Luther for the time being.

The two girls entered Luther’s room. Allison has helped prop him up so in case he did start vomitif again he at least wouldn’t choke on it. He was so flushed. As soon as they entered, Vanya immediately announced that she was going to get some cold compresses and as many fans as she could find to try and lower Luther’s temperature.

It was now that Allison realized how different this was to Klaus having a high temperature. Klaus was long but he was skinny as all hell and therefore it was easy to manipulate his weak or limp body. Luther however, was quite a bit bigger than Klaus in both respects. It would take all of the Hargreeves siblings to carry Luther to the bath to cool him off.

When Vanya returned with the supplies, they set Luther up as best as they could.

“Alright I think that’s the best we can do for now. We should probably leave him to get some rest,” Vanya said.

Allison hesitated. “Uh, I think I’m gonna say with him for a bit. Let me know if you need me though, okay?”

Vanya nodded and then left without another word. She walked down the hallway to Klaus’ bedroom and knocked on his door. A hoarse voice called for her to come in so she did quietly. She saw how terrible Klaus looked. His face looked...puffy, like she could see how congested he was. He was grabbing a tissue off of the bedside table as Vanya stepped farther into the room, having shut the door behind her.

“Hhietshiew! Hihhihhisshiew-hehhNXGT’uh!” Klaus smothered the messy sneezed into the tissue he had just picked up.

Vanya joked, “Wow, not even a ‘hello’?”

Her teasing caused Klaus to laugh and then clear his throat with a liquidy sniffle tacked onto the end. “Sorry,” he croaked, “hey Vanya. How was rehearsal?”

“It was okay. I was worried about you, though. How are you feeling?” She sat down on the edge of Klaus’ bed and held onto his hand.

“Been better,” Klaus said with a small sniffle, wincing slightly when it only added to the pressure in his sinuses. “But really, it’s not that bad.”

“Allison said you passed out,” Vanya said softly, squeezing Klaus’ hand. He responded with a reluctant nod and a little sigh, only to cringe and cough a second later when it irritated his throat.  “Do you still feel dizzy at all?”

“No. Just really stuffed up.”

“You sound so hoarse. I’ll get you some of that throat spray."

“No, Luther said it doesn’t work, remember?” Klaus reminded her. Vanya turned her head towards the door for a split second at the mention of Luther; Klaus followed her gaze. “How is he, have you seen him?”

“He’s asleep,” Vanya said quickly, squeezing Klaus’ hand again. “His fever went down, don’t worry about him.” It technically wasn’t a lie; she just neglected to mention that it had gone back up again. She really didn’t need Klaus to be worrying about him right now, he needed to focus on himself. Thankfully, he seemed to buy it.

“Good, good. He needs his sleep… hh’Dtshiew!”

“Bless you!” An unfamiliar female voice came from the hallway. Vanya looked at Klaus in confusion, then fear. Klaus just stared at her blankly; he’d assumed it was a ghost.

“Klaus? You up?” Diego’s voice came in from the hallway. And then he was stepping into the room, followed by a woman with a low ponytail, dressed in a turtleneck.

“Hey, Diego,” Klaus rasped.

“You must be Klaus. And, um, Vanya?” the woman in the turtleneck spoke. They looked at each other and nodded tentatively. “Hi, I’m Eudora Patch. But just call me Patch”

“Hi,” Vanya said quietly, eyes darting back and forth between Diego and this ‘Patch.’

“Eudora is my friend from the police academy,” Diego explained. The woman’s face fell a bit at that description. “I asked her to help me look after you, Klaus.”

“Ha!” the woman rolled her eyes. “That’s not what happened at all.”

To Diego’s dismay, Patch explained to them exactly what had happened. When Diego woke up on the living room floor, he’d been pretty pent up about everything. He’d felt like hurting Luther and Five, an to stop himself, he’d called his “friend” Patch (though Klaus and Vanya could pick up on the sexual tension emanating off of them in waves). They had an agreement: when he got like this, he’d call her up and she’d drive him around and talk it out until he calmed down (yup, definitely just “friends”). He’d explained to her what happened, and when talking didn’t calm down his anxiety about Klaus, she’d suggested she drop by and help him take care of him. Which is exactly what they were doing.

Vanya narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the stranger.

“So what, you don’t trust us to look after him?”

“Sorry, no. Seeing as you knocked me out earlier over a little argument, I don’t trust you to look after our incredibly fragile brother.”

“I’m not -hhh’xgchu-nxgt! fr-ackstju!- fragile.”

“Are you hearing yourself, right now?” Diego rushed over and put a hand to Klaus’ forehead. “You’re still warm -- where’s the thermometer?”

“You’re freaking out, again, Diego.” Vanya put her hand gently on Diego’s arm but he wriggled away from her grasp. “Klaus doesn’t need you panicking over him, he needs someone to keep him calm.”

“What’s her name again? Vanya? I like her--”

“Do you know how many times I’ve seen Klaus practically knocking on death’s door? You have no idea how quickly things can go to shit with him.”

“Diego, I’m fine!” Klaus whined. “Really, my fever’s gone down a lot since I passed out.”

“Since you what?” Diego’s jaw clenched.

“Diego, remember your breathing--”

“I’m gonna kill him,” he said through gritted teeth, before storming out into the hallway. “Hey, asshole! Looks like you got what you wanted, huh?” his voice carried through the hallway. He sounded scary mad. Vanya scurried off after him.

All of this action was a lot for Klaus. “Diego, don’t you dare touch him!” He whimpered and buried his head in his hands. “Ugh, why did I say anything?” he rasped. “I don’t need a murder on my hands.”

“Hey, uh. Klaus?” He looked up from his hands. Turtleneck lady--Eudora Patch, whatever the fuck her name was-- was still standing there, looking pretty damn confused. “Are you okay?”

Klaus wiped his eyes. “I’m okay, are you?”

Eudora was put off. She was used to people saying that sarcastically or defensively but Klaus seemed to be genuinely asking.

“I’m doing alright. Would you like to accompany me to find Diego?”

Klaus sniffled, “Okay, one sehhhcondhhishyiew-inxgsh’uh! Ihhnxgtchiew! Sndf, okay sorry.”

The pale boy stood up shakily and Eudora put her arm around him as she led him into he hallway. Klaus liked her. She was sweet and caring just like Diego but she knew how to calm him down and when to put him in his place. Klaus wondered why he hadn’t met her before.

They walked over to Luther’s room, following the loud sound of Diego’s voice, and they saw Luther pitched over, sneezing while Diego continued to shout at him.

“Hh’EKSHIEW! HhNXGHT-NXGHT’UH-NXGHTCHIEW!” Luther’s breath was hitching wildly. He was clearly trying to hold his sneezes back but even the stifles were loud.

Diego growled, “Oh, here we go again with the huge ass sneezes. You know, I used to think Klaus was the dramatic one maybe it’s actually you, Luther. Speaking of Klaus he’s in his room trying to get some rest because of the cold that you gave him, but I think something might be keeping him up!”

Luther cried, “Ihhh-I’m not hehhh...I’m not trying t’hahhhHHrENGTSHIEW! IHHHENGT’SHUH!” Tears were streaming down his cheeks. Whether they were from the sneezing or Diego’s tormenting, no one could tell.

“Bless you,” came a soft, hoarse voice from the hallway. “He’s not bothering me, Diego. I promise.”

“I know you’re just saying that, Klaus, he’s making a racket and-”

Eudora cut in, “And he’s sick, Diego. He’s not feeling well. Stop being a bitch and maybe give him as much care as you’re giving Klaus because he’s clearly still feeling shitty. You don’t need to be adding onto that as much as you are right now. How would you feel if someone was treating Klaus like this right now?” Diego didn’t say a word. “That’s what I thought. Luther, how are you feeling, sweetie?”

Luther shrugged. Tears were still falling down his face, meaning that they weren’t just from the sneezes. Allison stroked his back softly and tried to calm him down.

“Can everyone give me and Luther a few minutes alone?” Allison asked. Everyone filed out quickly, Eudora still having her arm wrapped around Klaus as Diego joined to do the same on his other side. “You alright, Luther?”

“I didn’t mean to get Klaus sick, I swear,” Luther sobbed. “I-I didn’t mean to let Ben die either it’s just-everything is my fault and-and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Luther was getting himself so worked up Allison was afraid he would get sick again. She tried explaining that it wasn’t Luther’s fault that Ben died and Ben didn’t blame him for it and that it wasn’t Luther’s fault that Klaus got sick and Klaus knew that. Unfortunately, logic wasn’t really appealing to Luther in his current state. She tried running her hands through his hair and wrapping her arms around him--nothing worked. He was still bawling in her arms.

Then, Allison got an idea.

“Luther, look at me,” She said, tilting his head up. She looked him in the eyes. “I heard a rumor, that you felt better.”

Luther’s eyes lit up blue as she relayed the command. His sobs started to fade away over the course of a few minutes, and Luther fell asleep in her arms.

Allison knew that her statement was vague but she hoped that it would at least do something to help Luther feel more like himself again.

To her delight, it actually seemed to work. Allison tracked his fever every fifteen minutes, watching it descend rapidly each time, until it had finally reached a manageable 100.1°.

Klaus, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well. In that time, his fever had climbed its way back up to 101.8°, and the fear of seeing dead babies kept from falling asleep again.

Diego stayed with him, checking his fever the same way (he’d bought another thermometer when he was out with Patch), and medicated him appropriately. Eudora kept him from panicking, assuring him repeatedly that his brother was safe.

She kept Klaus entertained with a constant influx of stories about all the times Diego has fucked up at the police academy. Diego remained tight-lipped and closed off throughout all of it; they could all tell there was some weird tension between them. But Klaus and Vanya both still laughed at the stories (although Klaus wouldn’t let himself laugh too hard, his throat hurt too much). They were both really starting to like Eudora.

With Luther’s fever under control, Allison spent about an hour alone with Klaus, while the others were downstairs cooking dinner. Klaus seemed to be pretty coherent and not in any immediate danger. They engaged in lighthearted chatter while she painted his nails, redoing his right hand three times when he sneezed and ruined the job. Allison was exhausted from taking care of her brothers all day. She’d handled it alone when Klaus passed out and when Luther puked his guts out, and she’d had to tend to two high fevers within hours of each other. This quiet moment was very welcome.

That was, until Klaus started whining. About his hair, of all things.

“Please, Allison.” His voice was raspy and breaking. “I can feel my curls getting all sticky and gross!”

“It’s just gonna get more frizzy, Klaus. Believe me, I would know.” She gestured at her own perfect curls.

“Please just let me wash my hair.”

“No one’s gonna see it, Klaus--”

“Dave might see it!” He pushed himself up on his elbows. “Please, I’ll be really quick-”

“No!”

Unfortunately for Allison, using her power was like a drug. If she  used it once, she was bound to use it again soon. It was a hard cycle to kick.

“Please?” He pouted. Allison bit down on her lip to keep from yelling; he was really trying her patience.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleeeeeeeeease-”

“I heard a rumor,” Allison finally broke, holding Klaus’ face in her hands so he was looking at her., “that you can’t stop sneezing.” Klaus’ eyes flashed bright blue for a second. And then immediately, his breath hitched..

“Hh - Allison, gett off me, I have to snehhh-ih? Hih-etshieww! Hahhnxgtsjuu! Heh-itschiuu!” Allison grinned; it was better than him whining. “Ugh, sorry, it came on so -hih!- suddenly… Heh! Oh fuck- hhHtdSZHiehh! ngk’tshiiu-heh! hhietshieww!” His breath was hitching wildly as he tried desperately not to sneeze. “Oh fuck, I can’t stohhekshieww! exNGTuhh! Ngxt! ehhhTD’shuu! Xngt-eshuu! Hiehh’etshuu! Ugh.”

Allison giggled. “I heard a rumor that you stopped sneezing.”

Her smile faded as she watched Klaus continue to sneeze, even after his eyes flashed blue a second time. He gasped for air in between. Eventually, it died down, but as the space between the sneezes became greater, the wheeze in his breath became more pronounced.

“ohgodicantbreathe-HxtSHiuu. Allison,” he wheezed, voice a strangled whisper. “Can you get my inhaler?”

Allison searched his drawers in a panic, but found nothing. Where the hell was it? The last time she’d seen him use it, it was in the living room.

Allison ran to the door and called down the stairs. “Diego! Get Klaus’ inhaler, quick!”

Diego was rushing upstairs within seconds, dressed in a frilly pink apron, with the inhaler in hand.

“Oh god, Klaus!” He rushed over and held the inhaler to Klaus’ mouth. “Breathe in-”

Klaus slapped his hand away. “I can - ihh…. ihhhetshiew! I can do it myself,” he gasped out, before taking a puff. Allison and Diego watched with bated breath as Klaus’ breathing started to even out. Allison didn’t realize she’d been holding her own breath until she heard Klaus let out a sigh of relief moments after taking a second puff.

“What the hell happened?” Diego had his arms crossed over his chest. He looked at Allison accusingly.

“I didn’t - he just started sneezing like crazy, and then that happened.” Her hands were in tight fists at her sides, the only sign of her guilt. She was an actress, after all. “I didn’t know-”

“Didn’t know what, that he’d had asthma all our fucking lives?” Diego hissed. “The second you heard his breathing change you should’ve called for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Allison shook her head. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Diego spat back at her, coming up way too close for her taste. She backed away.

“Diego!” They whipped their heads to the door. Eudora stood in the doorway dressed in an identical apron to Diego’s, arms crossed and eyebrows raised to the man in question. “What did I tell you?”

She nodded her head towards Klaus, who was sitting up in bed with his fingers pressed to his temples, face scrunched up in pain.

Immediately, Diego shrunk back, shoulders hunching slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Come on, celery still needs chopping. See you two soon!” Diego followed her out of the room. Allison turned back to Klaus and gently put his hands down at his side. She wiped his tears with the back of her hand and stroked his cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Klaus.”

“For what? It’s not your fault I’m sick.” Of course, he didn’t remember. But Allison had still felt the need to say it.

“No, Klaus, it is my fault. I-” she looked at the door, double checking that they were alone. “You’re gonna hate me.” Klaus quirked a brow.

“What do you mean? I could never hate you, Ally.”

“Klaus, I-” she lowered her voice and looked at the floor. “I rumored you to have that sneezing fit.”

“What?” Klaus went silent, dropping his gaze to his hands on his lap. He picked at his fingernails. Finally he looked back up at her after a moment, with a raise brow. “Why, uh… why did you do that?”

Allison gulped. “You kept going on about your hair,” she explained, still unable to meet his eyes. “And I knew it would make you stop.”

“Oh.” He dropped his gaze towards his lap again, shoulders hunching. “That’s-”

“I didn’t think this would happen, I thought it would just be a few sneezes, I totally forgot about your asthma.” Allison explained, cutting him off. Klaus nodded but didn’t look up. “It was stupid, and careless, and I should have stopped it way sooner than I did. I’m so sorry, Klaus.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you” Klaus said softly, finally looking up at her again. The hurt in his eyes was obvious, though he tried to smile through it. He wasn’t so great at masking his emotions when he was sick. It just made Allison feel worse. “I know I can be a lot. I’d probably want to shut me up, too.”

“Klaus, that’s not - I  just gave you a fucking asthma attack-”

“Which you didn’t know was going to happen,” Klaus smiled sadly. “I know you’d never try to hurt me-”

“But I did!” Tears were welling up in Allison’s eyes now. “It doesn’t matter what my intention was, I hurt you!”

“Well it wasn’t my intention to ruin your whole day by being a fucking invalid,” Klaus countered. His fists were clenched at his side as hot tears slid down his cheeks. “But here I am, sick as shit, once a-fucking-gain.. I-I never wanted to be such a burden.” He shut his eyes tight, sniffling back the tears. “A-and then I had to be all whiney and dramatic… who wouldn’t want me to shut up?” tears were full-on streaming now, hands pressed tight against his face as he tried to stop himself. “I don’t even know why you’re still here. I would have left me to rot.”

Klaus’ words made Allison feel even more guilty, but she had to take a moment to process them before she said the wrong thing. She was crying even more now, seeing her brother in so much pain. But she new her pain was nothing on how shitty she’d made him feel. She’d already apologized, and she didn’t want to make this about her apologizing, or about begging for his forgiveness. So she made comforting him her objective.

She sat down on Klaus’ bed and scooped him up in her arms, shushing and soothing him. He tensed in her arms, like he wanted her to let go.

“Of course I’m still here. I could never leave you, not again, Klaus, don’t you dare say anything like that to me ever again. You hear me?” Though her words were stern and commanding, her tone was soft. “You’re not a burden, you could never be a burden.” Klaus shook his head and gave another little sob. Allison responded by petting his hair, something that always seemed to calm him down. “I don’t care what Dad told you. Or what those assholes you used to date told you. n this house, you’re loved and appreciated.”

Klaus nodded and settled into Allison’s touch more and more as his tears slowly died down. After a few moments of uninterrupted crying, he finally spoke up in a shaky voice, “You wanted to shut me up. You yourself said I was being annoying.”

“Yeah, you were!” Allison ruffled his hair. “You’re allowed to be annoying, you’re sick! And you’re my brother, it’s your job. It’s my job to tell you to shut up.” Klaus made a noise that sounded like a laugh, but it came out like more of a snort due to the crying. “The way  did it was wrong, though. I just got a little frustrated, cause I’m tired -- not that that’s an excuse. But you have to know that me rumoring you was not about you. It was about me. I was being a tired, whiny little bitch.”

Klaus full-on laughed now, and even though it ended in coughing, Allison was relieved to hear it.

“You are the textbook definition of ‘little bitch,’” he teased. Allison responded by grabbing some tissues and wiping at his eyes. He snatched them away from her and rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically; that’s more like the Klaus she knew.

“I can do it myself!” He blew his nose harshly into the tissues. The crying, ironically, seemed to have helped with the congestion quite a bit. Allison made a face when Klaus blew his nose.

“Yuck.”

“Love you too, sis.” Klaus flashed her a shitty little grin, tossing the used tissues to the side.

Allison ran her hands through Klaus’ hair again. It really was nasty, all matted and sticky.

“How bout I help you wash your hair after dinner, hmm?”

Klaus chuckled. “All of that, and this is the conclusion you come to?”

[shipmistress9]

The Last Dragon: Chapter 2 - Where A Dragon Walks On Man’s Road

AN: Okay, this took way longer than I'd expected. I feel sorry for that, but then, this story isn't meant to be updated regularly.

And trying to answer that question in the reviews... This story won't stick very closely to the original, and if you've ever read others of my stories and/or the AN in those, you know that I'm generally a sucker for happy endings.

. o O o .

After the decision to go against Grimmel and free the dragons had been made, Hiccup wanted to directly jump up into the sky and fly off. Now that he had a goal, a plan, waiting any longer was jarring to the dragon. However, he needed these humans to reach his goal, and it still took a while before they could start their journey. The Sorcerer, whose name turned out to be Elkhart, and his daughter needed time to pack all those things they didn't want to leave behind and to prepare provisions. So Hiccup rolled up next to the house, watched them, grumbling to himself, and tried to find solace in at least not having to disguise his appearance as long as he was at the Sorcerer's home. But he was glad when, over one and half days later, they were finally ready to get going.

It was a slow journey. Hiccup hadn't really known just how slow travelling on foot was until he had two human travel companions. Sure, he probably could have carried them both on his back and maybe even their backpacks, too, with how the Sorcerer had enchanted them to be lighter. But the old man had advised them to not act suspiciously in any way. If they wanted to have even the slightest chance against Grimmel and his power, then they would need every advantage they could get. And that certainly included the element of surprise.

The dragon could see the wisdom in the human’s words, for a dragon in flight was sure to draw more attention than a normal travelling group. But the slow pace and the regular need for rests took their toll on his patience, not helped by the fact that he needed to keep himself disguised at any time, for nobody knew when they might meet other travellers on the road.

There was one thing in his new companions’ favour though. They refused to leave him outside when they rested for the night at an inn. Instead, they were content with sleeping at the stables, which the innkeepers gladly allowed so long as their big scary dog didn’t frighten the horses.

After a week of travelling like this, Hiccup became more restful. His brothers and sisters had spent many years in that man’s captivity. What difference would another couple of weeks make? This rescue mission was important, too important to risk it for unnecessary hast. And once he had accepted this truth, his mood lightened considerably. In some fashion, he even learned to enjoy the journey.

For as long as he remembered, humans had always made him curious. They had no fire inside them to keep them warm and no fur on the outside either. They had no claws or fangs to hunt or to defend themselves. And yet, they were not only able to survive but their population was growing constantly. Travelling with the Sorcerer and his daughter brought enlightenment to some of his questions. For the first time ever, the dragon noticed all the tools the humans made, not only swords or bows and arrows which they use for hunting but also pots and scissors and tongs and gears. It was fascinating and intriguing. He regularly asked his companions about the things they saw, making for great conversations on their long journey.

“That’s called a scythe,” Elkhart explained as they wandered past a field where several people were hard at work. “We use it to harvest some sorts of crops. These people were scything hay for the winter.”

[But you don’t eat hey,] Hiccup commented, bemused. [Why would you do something like this if it doesn’t give you anything? It looked to be exhausting.]

That seemed to amuse Elkhart. “You’re right there, on both point,” he said, chuckling. “It is quite exhausting work for something we can’t even digest. But it is not for us anyway. It is for our livestock. Cattle, sheep, horses; they all need this hay as food for the winter.”

[So you gather food for your animals so they can live through the winter and you can slaughter and eat them later?]

This time, both Elkhart and Astrid laughed, and after a moment, Hiccup joined in, barking out sounds of amusement. Oh, he had understood what Elkhart had explained, and he had to admit that it was a smart move. The humans were taking care of the other creatures around them, even if they ended up eating them. It wasn’t unlike what he did to the animals of the forest, taking care of them and keeping them safe from outer threats, but feeding on them when he needed.

Over time, Hiccup began to understand the humans better, both in general and his two companions specifically. Elkhart was happy to explain every device and practice they encountered, like the big smithy in one village and what it got used for. More often than not though, Astrid had to interrupt him when he got caught in too many details or had to get him back on topic as he was easily sidetracked.

Astrid, on the other hand, was the better option when he had a question about human behaviour. From her, he learned for example that a handful of fresh flowers given as a gift usually were meant as a sign of affection while a bunch of dried herbs hanging over the entrance to a house were supposed to ward off evil spirits.

He learned that the easy way in which the Sorcerer handled making a campfire or drying their clothes by magic was something Astrid enjoyed teasing him with. According to her, he wouldn’t even be capable of getting dressed without using his magic.

And he learned that Elkhart the Sorcerer really was the last of his kind beside their enemy, for he had no other offsprings besides his daughter, and she hadn’t inherited his talent for magic. Oh, she had her own gift in being immune to most magic and also being able to sense certain spells, but she couldn’t wield it herself.

. o O o .

One night, when they all once more slept in the fairly empty stables of an inn, Hiccup suddenly woke up. There were noises, hushed voices and careful steps, giggling. His eyes, that could see in the dark of night just as well as in broad daylight, spotted two figures sneaking inside. At first, he felt alarmed. Did they want to attack them? Had the dark magician learned about them and had sent assassins? But he quickly discovered that his worries had been for nothing. The two humans, a female and a male of young age, climbed up the ladder to the hayloft, and soon other noises beside giggling were audible, noises that confused the dragon.

Puzzled, he moved closer to where Astrid lay and nudged her arm with his nose.

“Hm, what?” came her sleepy response, and she turned to see who had woken her.

[Listen,] Hiccup told her. [There are other humans here. But I can’t tell what they are doing.]

Astrid listened into the darkness, then pressed her hand to her mouth to smother her laughter.

[What are they doing? It sounds weird.]

Astrid gave him an amused look, then pursed her lips, thinking. “They are… mating,” she eventually whispered, so low that no human would be able to hear her but loud enough for his sensitive ears to understand her perfectly well.

Hiccup nodded, understanding but still wondering about this odd human behaviour. [I see. But why were they sneaking around then? And why did they need to go up there to mate? Is it another human custom with dead plants?]

He could feel Astrid’s body vibrate with laughter, even as she managed to stay silent.

“No, nothing like that,” she whispered back, her words ringing with amusement. “It’s just… humans are weird when it comes to mating. Complicated. There are rules to it that even I don’t always understand. First, humans don’t mate in public. Mating it something private, intimate, only to be shared between the participants and for nobody else to see. And it’s not something done with just anyone either. You’re supposed to be certain that the person you’re mating with is the one you want to raise possible offspring with, too. Because human children stay for a long time with, usually, both their parents.”

Hiccup cocked his head. He had understood her words, but they still didn’t make much sense to him. [But why would they be mating if not to produce offspring?] he asked, puzzled. Humans never ceased to baffle him.

To him, his question had been perfectly sensible, but Astrid quietly laughed again nonetheless.

[Did I do something wrong?]

“No, no,” she assured him. “It’s just, well, the same as before. Humans are weird when it comes to this. In most cases, mating isn’t meant to produce offspring, but instead, they do it because… well, because it’s fun.”

She shrugged, and Hiccup decided to leave it at that. He still didn’t feel as if any of this made sense, but that was true for many things regarding humans, and he’d already accepted that there were things he would never understand. Like the odd jumble of people in the middle of the village the other day which Astrid had called dancing, or how the people they met on the road could miss that Astrid’s hand occasionally resting on his back was much too high to be patting a dog.

Spring turned into summer as they wandered on until they reached the land where Grimmel ruled. Hiccup felt a shudder running down his spine as they climbed a hill and then, all of a sudden, a city was visible in the distance. It was a vast city, bigger than any other human settlement he’d seen so far, hundreds of houses built side by side with a big castle looming over it.

“Here we are,” the Sorcerer said, sounding tense, angry even. “The city of Aerilon, where my order was destroyed and where the dark magician still keeps hundreds of innocent creatures captive. But we will put an end to all this!”

Hiccup growled in agreement, but when he was about to go ahead, to start the last part of their journey, Astrid stopped him.

“Wait!” she exclaimed. Her eyes were darting around, squinting. “There’s something wrong here…”

Both Hiccup and Elkhart watched her in puzzlement as she walked back and forth, right and left, looking highly concentrated. Eventually, she nodded to herself and turned to address her father.

“Is it possible that Grimmel is somehow observing the border? Something feels different over here.”

The Sorcerer’s brows furrowed. He made a step backwards, closed his eyes, and raised his hands as if feeling for something invisible. Then he nodded. “Yes… It seems like he is tracking who enters his land. I wonder…” He threw Hiccup a quick glance, then he sighed. “This might actually be a problem.”

[Why?] Hiccup inquired, impatiently. They were so close. It would be so easy to jump into the air, fly over toward the castle in less than a minute, and attack the dark magician. Grimmel wouldn’t even know what was coming.

“I can imagine what you are thinking, my friend,” Elkhart said in an oddly soothing tone. “But we mustn’t barge in on him without a plan. We don’t know where he is right now, don’t know where exactly the dragons are kept. Before we can attack, we need information.”

The dragon growled. [So what now? Am I supposed to wait here at his front door until you found those pieces of information? How long will that take? The journey there and back again alone will take you two days. I can’t wait here that long!]

“He’s right, Father,” Astrid threw in, glancing around in discomfort. Her hand around her bow over her shoulder tightened. “He can’t stay here. Even if I stay with him, it would be too dangerous. Suspicious.” She pondered a moment, then asked, “Can you even enter? Wouldn’t he detect your magic, too?”

The Sorcerer shook his head. “No. I should be able to mask it well enough. It means that I won’t be able to use my magic at all while we’re in Aerilon, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” Both Astrid and Hiccup gave him flat stares. “Okay, okay, it will be difficult. But I can manage if the alternative is being captured and killed,” he grumbled.

[Can you do that for me too? Mask me from his view?] Hiccup asked impatiently. He didn’t like just standing around here.

But, again, the Sorcerer shook his head. “That won’t be enough. I can’t hide what I am, only cover my magic, as if I was locking it away somewhere deep inside me. It’s a bit like your natural disguise. It wouldn’t change what you are, just how you appear, and that wouldn’t be enough to trick this spell.”

Hiccup nodded, understanding.

“And… if you do change what he is?” Astrid suddenly asked. She looked hesitant, reluctant even, her hands shaking.

Hiccup cocked his head, intrigued by her strange reaction. He also noticed that the Sorcerer did barely better, blanching at her words. His mouth opened and closed a few times without him ever uttering a word.

[What does that mean?] he asked after a while, tired of waiting for the humans to come to a decision. For a race that lived for only such a short time, they certainly were prone to wasting incredible amounts of it.

“Using magic is a complicated matter,” Elkhart eventually replied, sounding tired. “It’s not easy to… to command it. I can only – how can I phrase it – I can only express a wish, an intent, and then I have to lend my body to the magic for it to flow through me and let it find its own way to fulfil what I asked for. I can specify my intent, channel the magic and thereby make it easier. But that only works with simple things or when I really know what to do. But actually, physically transforming you into something else, something the border magic won’t register as something unusual… Well, that’s will take a lot of magic, and there’s no way of channelling it. I…” he paused, and licked his lips, thinking, then nodded. “I think I can do it. But I won’t be able to guide the magic in any way. You might end up becoming a mouse, or… or a sparrow. Something the border magic won’t detect as unusual, something that’ll be inconspicuous when we’re in the city looking for information.”

Hiccup cringed at the idea of turning into a mouse. Mice were food. No, not even that! They were the food of what his food hunted as food. Shuddering, he turned away from his friends, angrily pacing in front of the invisible border. There had to be a better way, something less degrading and humiliating.

“Maybe it won’t be something like that though,” Astrid gently interrupted his pondering. “Maybe you will become an eagle, flying high above through the sky. Or you’ll become this big black dog you always pretend to be for real. Whatever the magic thinks works best. And you can end the spell whenever you need to. Right?” She turned to throw her father a questioning look.

“Right,” the Sorcerer confirmed. “It would be similar to what I’d do with my magic. Your real self would still be there, locked inside you, and you can call it back whenever you need it. But keep in mind that that will immediately alert our enemy, so you better keep that for when it’s absolutely necessary.”

Grumbling, Hiccup looked at them both, then kept on pacing. He didn’t like this plan; something about it felt… off. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t come up with a better one. They had to free the dragons, and they had to get in there first without getting noticed.

[All right,] he eventually gave in. [Do what needs to be done.]

They didn’t waste any more time. Both Astrid and Elkhart took a handful of steps away from him, then the Sorcerer raised his hands, eyes closed, and began to mumble incoherently. At some point, Hiccup thought he detected the words “Magic, do as you will, do as you will,” and he honestly couldn't say that they filled him with any form of confidence.

But before he could think about it or even stop the Sorcerer, a cloud of light was forming around him. It became brighter and brighter, blinding even. Then it turned hot. As a dragon, Hiccup was immune to fire and burns, but this heat was different. It seeped into his body, burning, melting him from the inside. It hurt! He wanted to scream, to tell them to stop. But he wasn’t able to reach them. Nothing existed anymore besides the heat and the light.

He couldn’t even say how long it took. It could have been seconds or years, he wouldn’t know. But when it ended, he felt weaker than he’d ever felt before in his life. All strength had left him and his limp body slumped to the ground as if it was dead. From somewhere came hands, turning and lifting him, and a voice, familiar yet different, not as vibrant as he remembered it yet somehow sharper and more focused.

“Hiccup? Hiccup, can you hear me? Are you all right?”

I’m okay, he thought, grimacing at how everything felt so weird, so different. But he was okay. The pain was ebbing away and his limbs felt more capable with every second. Slowly, he was able to open his eyes and look up into Astrid’s comforting face.

“Hiccup! Oh, you’re awake, that’s good. Can you hear me?”

Yes, loud and clearly, he threw back, irked by her repeated inquiry. Whatever they had done to him, it had worked. He just needed a few minutes to get used to it.

“Please, answer me, Hiccup. Are you okay?”

Hiccup paused. Hadn’t she heard him? Was something off with his thoughts? Groaning, he remembered what they had explained to him, that other living beings weren’t able to project their thoughts as dragons did. He moved his lower jaw, testingly opening and closing his mouth. He tried to get out any form of noise, but all it did was making him cough.

“Slowly,” Astrid advised him gently. She reached to her hip, to her waterskin, and a moment later held it out for him. “Here, try to drink something. But carefully.”

Hiccup followed her advice and took a few sips of water. It felt wonderful on his parched throat. “Thanks,” he croaked.

Astrid relaxed noticeably. “Are you all right?” she asked again, more gently now than before. There was an odd concern in her eyes, one he didn’t really understand.

“Yes?” He was all right… wasn’t he? Everything felt dull and muzzled, different, his mind feeling as if enclosed in mist. But at least he didn’t feel pain anymore. He looked around, trying to clear his head, when his eyes fell on Astrid’s waterskin… and on his hands around it!

“W-what am I?” he gasped, disbelievingly. He obviously was no mouse, that much was clear, but…

Carefully, as if to show rather then tell him, Astrid laid her hand over his, and when he looked up at her again, he saw weird things there. Fear. Pain. Sorrow.

“You are human.”

. o O o .

Duh duh duuh...

[shannaraisles]

Set In Darkness

Chapter: 68 Author name: ShannaraIsles Rating: M Warnings: Canon-typical violence Summary: She’s a Modern Girl in Thedas, but it isn’t what she wanted. There’s a scary dose of reality as soon as she arrives. It isn’t her story. People get hurt here; people die here, and there’s no option to reload if you make a bad decision. So what’s stopping her from plunging head first into the Void at the drop of a hat?

Home Again

"Rory!"

The redhead glanced up as Cullen's hands found their place at her hips, supporting her now not-inconsiderable weight as she climbed down from the gig. Evy was visible for just a moment, rushing headlong across the upper courtyard and out of sight behind the steps up to the main hall, but it was all but guaranteed that she would be back in sight within seconds, running down the wide stone steps to the lower courtyard, hair and skirts flying.

Cullen grinned as he set his wife on her feet, taking a moment to brush her own hair from her face. "I'd brace, if I was you," he suggested, taking a smart step backward as the slapping sound of leather soles on stone abruptly turned into the thump of footsteps on packed earth.

Rory just had time to set her feet before Evy flew into her arms, the two women thumping together hard enough to knock the older healer back against the gig behind her. But she didn't care. After the long journey home, and the somewhat stressful night and day following her talk with Bull, Rory was glad to be able to release a lot of that tension in almost hysterical laughter as Evy hugged her close and lurched backward to exclaim over the bump.

"You grew! Oh, isn't that so lovely?" One hand on the bump, now gloriously advancing into the last two months at best guess, Evy raised wet eyes above a bright smile to her friend. "I've been so worried about you," she scolded lightly. "You're awful at looking after yourself, and you were kidnapped! Did they at least feed you properly? How is your back? Are you sleeping properly?"

"Yes, yes, hello, good to see you too," Rory replied with a wide grin, smothering her friend in another warm hug. "To answer your questions ... sort of, aching, and most of the time. Can I come in now, Mother?"

Evy flushed as Cullen chuckled nearby, embarrassed to have been called out on her mothering. "Well, I ... you can't blame me," she defended herself stoutly. "I've been worried sick!"

Rory patted her gently on top of her shining dark hair. "Seriously, Evy ... I need to use the facilities and get settled in," she informed her friend.

"Use the ..." Just like that, Evy's authoritative healer mind switched on. She turned on Cullen with a frown. "Have you not been stopping regularly enough?"

The commander's eyes widened, torn between amusement and alarm at the prospect of being scolded by his second's wife in front of the myriad of runners and messengers that had congregated around him. "Ask her, she's the one who refused to stop until we got home," he declared, throwing Rory under the cartwheels of Evy's ire without a moment's hesitation.

"Thank you, brave and fearless commander," Rory drawled as Evy's eyes turned back to her. "I need to use a pot, Evy. Now."

The scolding stopped rather smartly at that point. Taken by the hand, Rory was tugged up the steps to the upper courtyard and ushered into the infirmary, where she was encouraged to make use of the facilities and then given a large cup of water, which somewhat defeated the purpose. The vision of reassuring ugliness that was Granthis without a mask on was busy in a corner - he seemed to have taken over one of the workbenches for on-the-spot potion and poultice mixing, which had never occurred to Rory. He offered her a nod and a quick once-over, not the type to break from work for a little thing like a friend returning safely from an unwarranted adventure. Which meant she had the leisure to find Helene, sitting down beside her recovering friend with a warm, relieved smile.

"I'm so glad you survived," she said softly, gripping the soldier's hand as firmly as she dared.

Helene's smile was just as warm in answer. "More than survived," she promised. "I'll be up and about in just a few days. Your friend is a good healer, for all his quirks."

Rory cast a glance over to the corner, where Granthis was muttering to himself over a smoking pot, and chuckled softly. "Quirks is one way of putting it," she agreed in a quiet tone. I wrote him, but he's so much more than the character I put on paper. Her smile faded as she looked back at Helene. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, guilt filling her expression as she squeezed her friend's hand. "That's twice I've got you hurt. I'm so, so sorry, Helene."

Helene's smile faded to a scolding frown. "Don't you start," she warned. "The commander apologized to me back in the capital, that's bad enough. I was doing my duty; I'd have been ashamed to come out of that with nothing but scratches. Your friend patched me up and got me home. You're alive and well, that's what matters. And you're huge."

The guilty tears that had been threatening to fall were abruptly pushed aside by a loud laugh, that Rory hastily muffled behind her hand for fear of disturbing the other patients. "I am not huge," she objected, looking down at her bump. It was definitely bigger than it had been, though. She'd had to loosen her laces more than once in the last month. "All right, maybe I'm bigger, but not huge. Huge is coming in a couple more weeks, I think."

"When do you think you're due?" Helene asked with interest.

"Two months, maybe?" Rory hazarded a guess. "I haven't seen a midwife in more than a month. Tarren will be able to make a better guess."

"Oh, you can bet she'll be up here now you're back," Helena predicted in amusement. "Anyone would think she was the one having the baby. The commander's little commander."

The impersonation of the merry-tempered midwife who had taken up residence in Skysend was so accurate, Rory found herself smiling again. She was deeply grateful for Tarren, but the woman's cheerful approach to examinations was a little grating at times. And she was so fixated on the baby being Cullen's, she had a tendency to forget Rory's name at times. But despite it all, she was a good midwife, and more than capable of answering Rory's questions, which were getting more and more unsettled as time went on. The looming specter of childbirth without drugs or epidurals was starting to haunt her dreams somewhat.

"Now then, little girl, time you were out of here," Granthis declared, bustling over to the bed with a brilliantly green potion in hand. "Being around the sick is no place for a woman in your condition."

"Are you throwing me out of my own infirmary, Granthis Perivale?" she asked in amusement.

The ugly man considered her for a moment as he handed Helene the potion. The soldier took it in one hand, grimaced, and downed it in one as the apothecary spoke. "Yes, I am," he told Rory levelly. "You're on paperwork for the foreseeable future. Can't risk you catching some of the things in here."

Her eyes narrowed. "Paperwork," she repeated in a dull tone, ignoring Helene's soft snicker.

Granthis met her eyes with a bland expression. "Argue," he suggested warningly. "I dare you."

She held his gaze for a long moment. "You've already spoken to the advisors about this, haven't you?" she asked eventually.

Granthis offered her his disgusting grin, reaching out to pat her head. He knew he'd won without needing the argument, just by getting Josephine and Leliana involved. "Good girl."

Rory sighed heavily. They're going to bury me in reports, she lamented to herself. My own damn fault for getting kidnapped. Honestly, six weeks away, and suddenly I'm not safe around people anymore. It was an uncharitable thought, she knew. They were, all of them, trying to do what was best for her and the baby, and despite her annoyance, she knew they were right. That didn't make it any easier to accept, though.

"All right, fine," she conceded with bad grace. "But I'm still going to be visiting in here, unless there's something deadly virulent going around."

"Wouldn't expect anything less." Granthis chuckled, offering a hand to help her up from the stool as she shared a smile of farewell with Helene. "Go and get settled in, little girl. There's a commander who'll be worrying every time you're out of his sight for a while now."

"Oh, joy," she drawled, obediently making her way back toward the door, where Evy caught her in another warm hug once again. "Evy, I'm only going to the tower." Rory laughed, gently patting her friend's back. "What's all this?"

"Oh ... I didn't want to tell you with you just back home again," the younger woman fretted, glancing about the infirmary. "Come outside."

Suspicion bloomed on Rory's face as she allowed herself to be taken by the hand and drawn out into the afternoon sunlight. Cassandra was beating the crap out of the nearest practice dummy, but she could see Kaaras and Varric approaching from the hall. And Varric had the book in his hand. Finally. It was a shame she couldn't eavesdrop, but Evy seemed determined to pull her out of eyeline, too. Even craning, she couldn't quite see what was going on in Cassandra's little training yard once Evy pulled her to a halt.

Sighing in reluctant acceptance of the fact that she was going to miss Cassandra getting her hands on the next chapter of Swords and Shields, Rory focused her attention on Evy, tilting her head curiously at the look of guilt that was making itself known on her friend's face.

"What is it?"

Evy bit her lip, glancing away before trying to speak. "Um ... well ..." She hesitated, and plunged on. "The Inquisition's going to the Western Approach," she told Rory, and instantly the redhead knew what was coming. Rylen's being deployed to the other side of Orlais. "And, well, it's a long way away, and there's a keep there that needs to be taken and held, and Rylen - that is, Cullen thought - and Rylen accepted, and ..." Evy's expression crumpled in lines of guilt and suppressed excitement. "I'm going with him."

"Of course you're going with him," Rory answered. "Why would I possibly think you wouldn't? We'll have to work up your supply list so you have everything you'll need to set up an infirmary there."

"But ... but I won't be here when -" Evy bit off the words in embarrassment.

Rory felt the flare of panic as she caught up with what was worrying her friend, but forced herself to chuckle as though it was nothing.

"When the baby's born," she finished, making a supreme effort not to show how unsettling it was to realize she was looking at a birth without her friend close by her side. Without Cullen, too, was the next realization. If Adamant is this close, he's not going to let me travel with the army. Fuck, I'm doing this on my own. "So you'll just have to be patient and come visit us, won't you?"

Evy stared at her. "You ... you don't mind?"

Rory squeezed her hand. "Of course I mind," she promised, glad she hadn't told the younger woman that they were cousins. She had a feeling Evy would use that like a weapon to stay here if she had it in her arsenal. "But you should be with Rylen. And even if you weren't married to him, I'd still say you should go. They'll need a senior healer there, and you're it, Evy. You're a good healer, and you know how everything should work. They'll need you there."

The younger woman's eyed widened in surprise. "You ... you think I could do it?" she asked in amazement.

"I know you can," Rory promised her. "There's no one I would trust more to take care of our people than you, Evy."

"I-I ... Really? You really think I, I can do it?"

Rory smiled, reaching out to hug her friend warmly. "I know you can," she assured her friend with every ounce of confidence she could muster. "Trust me, okay? And Tarren will be here to look after me, with Gustav, and probably more people trying to get in on the action, too." And if I keep saying that, I might actually start to believe it.

So ... if they knew they were going to the Western Approach, that meant that Kaaras had sent word ahead. Alistair and Hawke might already be on their way there. The siege at Adamant could only be a couple of months away ... just like the birth of the baby. She rubbed a hand over the crown of her bump, trying not to show her sudden unease. No Evy, and no Cullen. You're on your own for this one, Ror.

[inthefallofasparrow]

‘Incomplete’ - RWBY fic

It had been her father’s idea. Just a trip to see how things had changed in the months since the attack. Maybe a glimpse of the hope that still lingered there; all the tireless effort being done to restore order and rebuild what had been destroyed. Maybe that might inspire her to…

To what?

Yang wandered listlessly down all the familiar streets in a daze, past alleyways and cafés, shops opening for business as usual; people clinging to the veneer of normality, no matter how fragile. The same lampposts and paths and doorways she had seen a hundred times before. But now she didn’t see them. The world seemed incomplete. Now her eyes were obscured somehow, drifting blindly over anything of significance, just in case she accidentally focused on something she didn’t want to see. Or rather, in case she expected to see something only to discover it was no longer there. A selective blindness, desperately preserving her memory of how things should be. Sometimes, she noticed her eyes drifting over her arm the same way.

She had run that night. Run until it hurt in her lungs. Run until her throat felt full of gravel. Run aimlessly, moving from one conflict to the next until it was just a blur. She’d been looking for her teammates, for Ruby, but she knew part of her had just been looking for a fight, for something to punch, for a way to prove herself. And now… well, what had she proved to herself? … Nothing good, in any case.

The students that had remained to help defend the city were set up in makeshift accommodation in front of the courtyard near the centre of Vale. Glynda had organised shifts for teams to be sent out on patrol; a careful surveillance to report and deal with any stray grimm activity that encroached on the borders of populated areas. Most of the creatures were too busy tearing Beacon apart, leaving the city largely secure, but there was still the odd incursion of Creeps or Beowolves drawn to the fearful populace that remained.

“Hello, Yang.”

Fox almost seemed to have snuck up on her, or perhaps she was just too distracted to have noticed him sitting alone on a bench at the northern end of the courtyard.

“Oh, hi,” she muttered, caught off-guard, “… uh, how did you know it was me?”

“Your clothing. It always smells a little… smoky.”

“Oh…”

He stared at her in the deliberate silence that followed. Or rather, he didn’t, obviously, but Yang still found his eyes a little unnerving. He nodded to himself, “How have you been since…?”

She sighed, “Not great.”

“no…” he agreed simply.

Yang shifted her weight awkwardly, “Where’s the rest of your team?

He feigned surprise. “You mean they’re not sitting next to me?” he joked, feeling the empty bench beside him, “Well, you’d better sit down, then. I’m suddenly feeling lonely.”

Yang smiled and relaxed, obliging him.

“We have the day off. I assume Velvet and Coco are probably practice sparring somewhere. Yatsu’s taken to going on long contemplative walks around the docks, but I think that may just be an excuse to be alone.” He shrugged, and then the heavy silence returned.

Yang had barely heard him over her thoughts. She seemed to have accidentally returned to a different Vale. This wasn’t the city she knew. It was an uneasy replica, apprehensive and tense, just waiting to collapse again. And that smothering tension in the air had been building well before the attack. When the alarms went off and the school was overrun, after getting over the initial shock, it wasn’t even much of a surprise that the world was burning around them. Everything just clicked together. Like everyone had been secretly expecting this chaos to break out all along, they just hadn’t realised it. But now it was so obvious. Why hadn’t they seen it coming? Why hadn’t they…?

“Yang?” Fox’s voice drew her back, “What about you? Where are you?”

“What? I… Back at my dad’s place on Patch.”

“No, I mean, where are you now?” He tilted his head curiously, “Something tells me you’re not really ‘here’.”

“Oh, sorry… I’m just… it feels -”

She took a breath and Fox turned away, not wanting to pressure her. She had wanted to say ‘incomplete’, but wasn’t sure what she would be referring to exactly. Fox began to speak, but the wind picked up suddenly and for a while that’s all they could hear. That was all she wanted to hear, if it drowned out that night. If it could just blow Vale away.

“I’m in a pit.” Yang confided wearily, “And at this point, I’m just too tired to pull myself out of it.”

Fox nodded again. The prominent scars on his arms looked angrier than usual somehow. Yang felt like some of them may have been newer, perhaps acquired during the attack. She looked away. She didn’t want to see that. If she could just avoid noticing those little things, then maybe … “We’ve lost so much. Everything’s shifted now... All the normal things that used to be important; classes, training, adventure, becoming a huntress, it’s just … none of that seems to matter anymore.”

That was more than she had intended to say. She didn’t really know Fox very well. Perhaps that was a good thing right now. “Everyone says, ‘Life will get back to normal soon’, but…” she looked down at the ground uneasily, trying to articulate, “I think ‘Normal’ has changed.”

“Normal always changes eventually.” Fox answered, turning to face her, “But you don’t have to go ‘back’ to get there. Normal doesn’t mean ‘how things were’. It just means ‘comfort’… ‘How we want things to be day-by-day, the safety, the familiarity’… But where does ‘progress’ fit into that? How do we move forward, if all we want is to go back?”

“Um… That was a little cryptic.”

Fox gestured across the courtyard, “You see that building over there?”

She didn’t bother to look, “Yeah.”

“Well, I can’t.”

Yang swallowed, caught off-guard again, “I, uh -”

“There was a time when being able to see was normal.” He explained gently, “And it still is for you. I can’t go back to that ‘normal’ now. But that doesn’t mean life is ‘abnormal’ for me.”

He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, “We lose things sometimes, Yang. Sometimes, it’s friends. Sometimes, it’s hope. Sometimes, it’s a part of ourselves… And it’s normal to want them back. ‘Life’ is just what happens when you continue on without them regardless … But I think you already knew that.”

Her arm itched. She ignored it.

“Continue on regardless, huh? So stubbornness is useful after all. Better tell my dad.” That just made her think of Raven. That’s where she’d got it from apparently. Her stubbornness.

“Sometimes I wonder what my parents were like on a team together.” she noted, happy to change the subject, “With them dating, and my uncle Qrow... I don’t know, I figure that probably caused some, uh, conflict.”

“Team romances typically aren’t the best idea.” Fox grinned, “Coco and I dated for a while about a year ago.”

“Oh, what happened?”

Fox shook his head, “She worried about me. Always afraid I was in danger. It started affecting her judgment as a leader. So I made sure she knew I was capable, then I called it off. Distanced myself a bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, “Of course, she just transferred all of that fear and concern onto Velvet. I should have known, really.”

Yang blinked, “Wait, are you saying? Are Coco and Velvet - ?”

“It’s cute. They think they’re being secretive about it, but I can see it from a mile away… Well, not literally, obviously.”

Yang hadn’t seen Coco or Velvet since the attack, when she’d finally found Weiss with them. Weiss was safe. She was with the others. Now, she had to find Blake. That was all she needed to worry about. Find Blake, and then go look for Ruby. But first Blake. That was about as complicated as her thought process could have gotten as she ran. There was just too much danger around her to focus on anything more than basic goals. Her head was starting to ache from the exhaustion and her legs where feeling heavy and numb, but it wouldn’t matter if she could just find Blake. There were grimm all over the place, but that wasn’t a problem. She’d trained for this. She knew she was prepared for this. She just had to keep running.

“Dad’s pushing me to train again. I thought I was ready, but … coming back here. After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure whether I can now. Maybe I shouldn’t…”

Fox moved his head up slightly as the sun shifted out fleetingly from behind a cloud. There was a peacefulness in him that Yang envied. His demeanour was always calm, even if his voice was still lined with unease. “My father was a huntsman too, but I never wanted to be one when I was little. He pushed me to fight so I could defend myself, but the idea of becoming a huntsman… risking my life day after day, just as a job… Too many of his friends had died. Being a huntsman didn’t sound rewarding or heroic… it was just dangerous and stupid. There was too much to lose.”

The wind began to pick up again, rolling and howling, but he didn’t give in to it this time, “After my sight went, things started going downhill. Other things went wrong in my life and … well, I was in that ‘pit’ of yours a lot longer than a few months. You don’t need to hear the specifics, so let’s just say one day I realised most of what I was afraid of losing, I’d already lost by worrying about. Becoming a huntsman suddenly wasn’t that scary anymore. I knew it was dangerous, but I also knew I could handle it. I was still afraid. I was still angry. But I had a goal to work towards, and that helped me escape where I was.”

“Are you saying that I should -”

“I’m not saying you should do anything, Yang … other than what is right for you.” He turned back to her, the new weight to his voice seeming to still the wind now as he spoke, “If you need time, then take time. If you need to train and fight harder than ever, then do that. If you need to change your path, be ready to make that choice and commit to it. Do whatever you need to do… as long as you have a goal.”

She found Blake. It was a fluke, really. With everything that was happening that night, she could have been running, searching forever. She could have missed her entirely. She could’ve discovered her dead under the rubble. She could’ve never seen her again. But she found Blake. And then it was just anger and pain. Anger and pain and silence.

“When I lost my arm, I was -”

“Wait, you lost your arm?”

“Yeah, in the attack … You didn’t know?”

Fox paused, seeming annoyed, “Coco likes to keep things from me... I’m sorry.”

Yang didn’t bother to continue what she was going to say. She didn’t need to. And Fox didn’t prompt her to go on. Things were just left unspoken these days. Even their words were incomplete.

“You know,” Fox began again, after a while, “I haven’t actually seen this place. The courtyard. I’d never been here before, when I could still see, so … Would you mind describing it for me?”

Yang shrugged, “It’s a courtyard… I mean, there are trees and stuff.”

“Yes… and…”

“I don’t know … Concrete steps. Grass. A lamppost that’s sort of crooked… There’s a woman reading a book under one of the trees over there … sorry, I mean, to your left… Uh, there are some kids running around next to her. I think they were playing hide-and-seek, but one of them obviously isn’t any good at it... Now they’re heading over to the shops, oh, there are some shops on that side … not as many as there used to be. They sell ice-cream and coffee, cakes, you know. There’s a big red sign out the front with flashing light bulbs around it. Some of the bulbs are missing. Um… Across the road, there’s an old block of apartments. Some of the windows are broken and there’s a big chunk missing from the top floor balcony. I … don’t think anyone lives there anymore.”

“I can hear bees.”

Yang looked around, “Yeah, there are some bees about. The flowers are starting to open. They’re these little orange buds. I don’t know what they’re called, but we have them on Patch. Blue ones too, but they have a different smell to them. And over on the east side someone’s planted some violets. I don’t think they were there before… They’re nice.”

“I thought the flowers on the east side were yellow.”

“No, the… I thought you said you hadn’t seen the courtyard before.”

“I haven’t. But Coco already described it to me.” Fox smiled, “I just wanted you to see it.”

[skinflesh97-blog]

How Not to Light Your Kitchen on Fire (and What to Do If One Starts)

[Photographs: Vicky Wasik]

Talk to any professional cook and they'll regale you with horrific tales of out-of-control flare-ups and third-degree burns. One time, for instance, I watched a restaurant coworker melt the skin off his face while trying to relight the pilot light on an oven—unfortunately, he didn't take into account how much gas had built up in it before he struck the match. Another cook standing five feet away had singe marks on his flame-retardant chef's coat. Luckily, my colleague healed fully.

When I asked Sasha what kitchen fire stories he had, he launched into several, but the highlight was probably the one about a huge plastic bucket of duck fat that was placed on a shelf too close to a stove. The plastic melted and a tidal wave of duck fat splashed down onto the cooktop, exploding into flames. Somehow no one got hurt, the fire was put out, and everyone managed to clean up the grease in time for service.

These stories are morbidly entertaining only in retrospect because they all had more or less happy endings, but, of course, there's nothing humorous about the potential dangers of fire. There are too many stories out there that don't end well, and no one should be laughing about that.

Instead, we should be prepared, especially because homes are usually much less well-designed to deal with fires than commercial kitchens, which are required to have aggressive fire-suppression systems and flame-retardant materials. According to a 2010 study by the National Fire Protection Association, "41 percent of home fires started in the kitchen area and caused 15 percent of the home fire deaths and 36 percent of the reported fire injuries."

I know more than the average person about how to deal with kitchen fires, but I'm in no way a fire-safety expert, so I called up the Fire Department of New York and spoke to Lieutenant Michael Kozo, a 15-year FDNY veteran, for his expert opinion.

One of the first things Kozo impressed upon me was just how little time we often have once a fire starts. "You have 30 to 45 seconds to put out a fire before it's out of your control," he told me. "It's not a lot of time." Given that, every second counts. If we panic, if we stand there frozen in uncertainty, or if we can't remember where to find the supplies we need to fight the fire, it'll be out of our hands before we know it.

Thinking through a fire scenario in your own home before the fire happens can help you use the little time you have and may make the difference between a flare-up and a life-altering blaze. Here's what to do, starting with preventative measures, moving on to trying to fight the fire yourself, and finally how to handle a situation that has spiraled out of your control.

Install Smoke Alarms and Make Sure They Work

Technically, smoke alarms don't prevent fires, but they're still a preventative measure. Install them now; have your life saved later. You can read the FDNY's complete smoke-alarm tips here, but in a nutshell, you should be sure to get alarms that double as carbon-monoxide (CO) detectors, and make sure they're UL-rated, installed properly, and well-maintained.

Don't Leave Food on the Heat Unattended

According to Kozo, unattended cooking is one of the leading causes of kitchen fires. "We get it: Everybody has a hundred things going on—watching TV, someone's texting, there's someone at the door, you're watching the kids, and in the midst of this you're trying to cook. Next thing you know the food is on fire." I feel like he's describing my life as he rattles off this description of a life with too many distractions, but his point is clear. "If you're going to cook, then cook, but if you're going to do five other things, don't."

Then I ask Kozo about recipes that require overnight cooking in low ovens. There's always a risk, he says, but not nearly as high as unattended stovetop cooking or leaving home while the oven is on. "I wouldn't recommend leaving the oven on and going to work for the day. But if it's a recipe that calls for a slow cook and you're home, that's not as much of a problem."

Beware of Kids in the Kitchen

As a new parent, I'm as excited as the next person to get my kid in the kitchen as soon as possible. There's nothing wrong with that, but we need to make sure our enthusiasm for exposing our children to cooking doesn't get in the way of common sense. Kitchens are dangerous places and injuries can be severe, even deadly.

Kids, especially small ones, should never be underfoot when you're actively cooking, and pot and pan handles should always be turned away from you (knives should also be well away from the counter's edge). Aside from the immediate risk of burns if a child were to grab a pot full of scalding liquid and pull it down on themselves, there's also the added risk of a fire—spilled oil can instantly go up in flames.

Keep Flammable Materials Away From Heat Sources

Cooking can get messy quickly, and countertop clutter easily builds. Be mindful, though, of what you have sitting close to the stovetop itself. A poorly placed paper towel or other flammable object can catch fire even if it isn't making direct contact with the flame.

Wear Appropriate Clothing

There's a time and place for breezy silk robes and feathery boas, but it's not in the kitchen. Loose clothes and excess fabric increase the risk they'll accidentally ignite. (Cooking naked, while very comfortable, is also risky, but in another way entirely.)

Similarly, clothes that are loose or have strappy elements are more likely to get snagged, accidentally pulling pots off cooktops. In the Serious Eats test kitchen, an unnamed staffer recently wore a very nice mechanic's jumpsuit. Only problem was the towel hoop on one of the jumpsuit's legs caught a cabinet door handle as this person walked past, ripping the door off its hinges.

Monitor Cooking Temperatures

Everyone knows about an oil's smoke point, but what's discussed less often is the much dramatically named flash point. (I feel like there had to be at least one '80s movie with that name [Editor's note: Yes, yes there was.]) The flash point, though, is a pretty scary thing—it's when the oil is hot enough to burst into flames all on its own. For this reason, you should always be mindful of the temperature of your oil when frying foods.

Clean Your Kitchen

There are a lot of reasons to keep your kitchen spic and span (we also have plenty of advice on how to do it). It discourages vermin, reduces the risk of cross contamination, and makes it just a little less flammable. Flammable, you say? Yup, that fine layer of sticky vaporized grease coating poorly maintained cabinets and equipment can help a fire spread even faster than it might otherwise.

Know Where Your Fire-Suppression Supplies Are, and Know How to Use Them

The big no-no in most kitchen fires is to douse them with water, since the majority of cooking-related fires involve either grease or electrical appliances. Water will often only make a grease or electrical fire worse. Instead, you want to smother them, depriving the fire of oxygen and, hopefully, putting it out.

The best ways to smother a fire are to either cover the flames with a lid or baking sheet (especially if the fire is contained to a pan), or dumping a box of baking soda on top. It's a good idea to be aware of where the lids, baking sheets, and baking soda are in any kitchen, so you can grab them quickly without having to search frantically while the flames grow.

Another option is to use a fire extinguisher, but Kozo is careful to warn that a fire extinguisher will help only if you have the right kind and know how to use it. "A lot of maintenance goes into having one," he says. "Once a month you should be testing it to make sure the gauge on top is in the green to ensure you have enough pressure."

Kozo also says to make sure to buy an ABC fire extinguisher. The A stands for ordinary combustibles like wood and paper; B means it can be used for all sorts of liquid fires like grease and gasoline; and C means it's rated to combat electrical fires. Using the wrong extinguisher on a kitchen fire can make things much worse.

He also advises getting one that, like the smoke detectors, has a UL rating, which ensures the device meets minimum performance standards. The best size for home use is between three and five pounds, small enough to fit into most home kitchens, yet large enough to stand a chance of being effective.

Just as important is knowing how to use a fire extinguisher correctly. Stand too close and the force of the blast can spray flaming grease all over, spreading the fire more quickly. According to Kozo, you should stand "eight to 10 feet from the fire when using an extinguisher." He adds, "That's the beauty of an extinguisher—you don't have to get close."

When you do try to put out the fire with an extinguisher, the acronym to keep in mind is PASS: Pull the pin. Aim at the base of fire. Squeeze the trigger. Sweep side to side. "A lot of people don't even pull the pin," says Kozo. "They're in a panic, not trained, not familiar, and now they're picking it up and the kitchen is on fire."

Aiming at the base of the fire is particularly important. "We see it a lot: The fire starts to reach the cabinets, and people want to protect them, so they start trying to put the fire out near the cabinets. By the time they get to the pan, there's a good chance the extinguisher is empty." A three- to five-pound extinguisher gives you about eight to 15 seconds of action before it's spent, so you want to make sure you aim it at the source of combustion, not at the flames themselves.

Know Your Escape Routes

This may seem obvious—of course I know where the exits are in my home. But just last night I was chatting with my wife about fleeing our apartment in case of a fire, talking about the front door, the fire escape, and how we might be able to safely drop to the ground from our second-floor windows. Then she mentioned another escape point I hadn't even thought of. It's not that I didn't know of it, but it wasn't top of mind.

And that's really the point: In a high-pressure emergency, if something isn't well within your awareness, you may not think of it in the very moment you need to most. So consider your own home, its layout, and what your options might be. If the time ever comes, you want your response to be immediate and automatic.

There's no easy answer here. I think we're all reluctant to dial 911 when we still think we have a situation we can handle, and if that's really the case, you may not need to call 911. Small fires can be dealt with without calling in the cavalry. But it's important not to let doubt about whether you can control the fire, or any potential embarrassment about overreacting by calling 911, get in the way of making that call.

"What I recommend, if the fire just got started and you're standing there witnessing it, is to pick up the phone and call 911, then grab the extinguisher and try to put it out. Worst case is we get there and you've already put the fire out," says Kozo. He goes on to point out that sometimes fires that seem to have been put out may still be a threat.

"There's always a possibility an ember could get behind your wall. Let us come and check it out. We have thermal-imaging cameras that detect heat. We'll point the camera at the wall, and if we don't see heat coming from behind the wall, we'll assume everything is okay. If we see heat, that's when we'll poke some holes in the wall. A few holes in your wall compared to your whole kitchen on fire . . ."

If the fire is clearly out of hand and you haven't called 911 right away, you should call as soon as you've evacuated and are safe.

Putting Out Stovetop Fires:

If You Can, Turn Off the Heat Source: According to Kozo, you want to shut off a fire's source of energy as quickly as possible, as long as you can do so safely. This will depend on where the fire is and where your burner control knobs are. If you can't safely reach the knobs, don't try.

Smother With a Lid or Baking Soda: Try to carefully slide a lid or baking sheet over the fire or dump a box of baking soda on top, both of which will deprive it of oxygen and, hopefully, kill it.

Or Use a Fire Extinguisher: Stand eight to 10 feet away and remember PASS (Pull the pin, Aim at the base of the fire, Squeeze the trigger, and Sweep side to side).

Consider Escaping and Calling 911: If the fire is out of your control, it's time to run and call 911 (if you haven't already).

Putting Out Oven Fires:

If You Can, Turn Off the Heat Source: Just like a stovetop fire, if you can safely turn off the oven, you should do so.

Keep the Oven Closed: An oven is already a contained space, so keep the door closed and wait for the fire to burn itself out in there. Opening the oven door to check on it is the worst thing to do.

If Fire Escapes, Try Baking Soda or a Fire Extinguisher: If the fire gets outside of the oven, you can try to put those flames out with baking soda and/or a fire extinguisher.

Consider Escaping and Calling 911: Once again, the moment you realize the fire is bigger than you can safely handle, it's time to run and call 911 (if you haven't already).

Grab Your Family and Run: If the fire is beyond what you can safely manage, time is critical to escape. Grab your family and run. Do not try to salvage any belongings; your life is at stake.

Close All Doors Behind You as You Flee: Fleeing a fire is terrifying, but this is a moment that you need to be mindful of one thing: Closing all doors behind you along your escape route. Some of the worst fire tragedies have happened because people ran but left doors open behind them, allowing the fire to spread throughout the building much more quickly. Closing doors physically isolates the fire, and it buys more time for others to escape and for firefighters to get it under control.

Alert Neighbors Only If You Can/Should: If you live in a building that is not fireproof (check with your building or municipality to find out how it's classified), your neighbors are at risk. If you can safely alert them, you should, but don't let that get in the way of your own safe escape or the urgent 911 call. If your building is fireproofed (in NYC, that's typically buildings higher than seven stories), you should not alert them, since the building is designed to prevent a fire from spreading; in this case, your neighbors are generally safer where they are.

Call 911: As soon as you're safe, call for help (if you haven't already).

Grills, Turkey Fryers, and Outdoor Cooking Equipment

Grills and other outdoor gear should, first and foremost, be used outdoors. Try to put the equipment on a level, noncombustible surface, with nothing combustible (buildings, tanks of gasoline, bales of hay) too close by. Turkey fryers should be used with extreme caution (see our guide here).

Always be mindful of how you build a fire in a grill. Despite years of professional experience, I almost lit myself on fire last summer. I was staying at a vacation rental with a charcoal grill, and the nearest store only sold self-lighting charcoal. I hadn't used the stuff in years and had forgotten just how volatile it is. After getting the initial briquettes lit, I tipped the bag of charcoal over the fire to add more briquettes. The lighter-fluid vapors in the bag ignited from the heat of the charcoal below, and before I had time to react, I was holding a flaming sack of briquettes. I dropped the whole thing on the grill and nervously waited for the six-foot inferno to calm down. It wasn't the stress-reducing vacation I'd been imagining.

Propane Tanks

I have what I would describe as an irrational fear of propane tanks. I can't help but imagine a spark backtracking up the tube and into the tank, setting the whole thing off like a bomb. Kozo reassured me that there's nothing to fear. "There are more safety features on those things than ever before. In order for the flame to make it back into the tank and blow it, a lot of things have to go wrong."

Still, it's important to follow best practices to reduce the risk of an incident. In addition to using well-maintained hoses, there is a recommended sequence for shutting off a propane tank when you're done using a gas grill. "We recommend turning the tank off first, before turning off the grill burners," says Kozo. That way any remnant gas in the tube can burn off, helping to bleed the line. If you shut off the burners first, that tube connecting the tank to the grill remains full of gas, which could cause a problem later.

This post may contain links to Amazon or other partners; your purchases via these links can benefit Serious Eats. Read more about our affiliate linking policy.

Source: https://www.seriouseats.com/2019/03/how-to-not-burn-your-ass-off-in-the-kitchen.html

[godsandvillainsrpg-blog]

Congratulations ABI! You have been accepted as ZAINE CHAMBERS.

Note from Admin Hannah: So I knew when I wrote Zaine that he was a sympathetic character with a tinge of sadness to him...but you just amped up both factors beyond reason. I am still emotional after reading your app, I feel like I need a box of tissues. You captured Zaine’s goodness and his sadness exactly as I would have hoped - actually, even better. I wanted a tragic character, and you gave it to me. Your interpretation was everything I envisioned and more. From your character explanation, to his motivations and plot ideas, all the way to the sample and extras not only was I hooked, but I knew that you understood this character just as well if not better than I do.  I literally cannot wait to see Zaine on the dash and see what plays out for his future.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: Abi Age: 21 Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Timezone: EST Activity Level: 7/10 - I work a lot but I should be around for a few hours most evenings!! Triggers: REMOVED Anything Else? nope! thanks for reading my app (:

IN CHARACTER

Desired Character: Zaine Chambers

Describe this character in your own words:

—– ZAINE’S AESTHETIC !! a calm & misty day at the beach ; loose tea leaves in the bottom of your mug ; that smell right before it rains ; a cozy jumper with a hole in the sleeve just big enough for your thumb ; soft dirt underneath your feet ; water rings on antique end tables ; freshly baked bread ; wringing hands ; a desk full of messy papers and smudged ink

—– CHARACTER STRENGTHS !! 1. empathetic ;; “showing an ability to understand and share the feelings of another. ” ***** In another life, Zaine would have been a writer. People fascinate him. And not in a distant, creepy sort of way; in an up close and personal sort of way that makes everyone he meets feel like they can share their deepest and darkest with him, just because he listens and he understands. Or, if he doesn’t understand, Zaine has always tried his very best to see things from that person’s point of view. It’s a talent, really, how good he is at it. Maybe it’s his own virtuous spin on his mother’s ability to read people. The irony in that being that his mother constitutes as one of the few souls out there where his kindness has no effect, but that’s only a reason for Zaine to try harder. There’s not a single person on the planet Zaine doesn’t want to know and the idea that most of those people are one’s he’s related to bothers him. 2. dedicated ;; “ devoted to a task or purpose; having single-minded loyalty or integrity. ” ***** Zaine’s entire life is dedicated to the well-being of others. Whether that be playing mediator to his family or studying for his entrance exams to medical school, Zaine has never found it hard to put his mind to something. Maybe that’s another positive spin on one of his parent’s traits ( maybe he’s more like them than either side wants to think ) and Zaine certainly isn’t complaining. The dedication he feels towards his family is more of a struggle than other aspects of his life, but Zaine figures soon enough he’ll reach his tipping point. Soon enough Zaine will find the linchpin holding together whatever monstrous wall separates himself from the rest of his family and they’ll all get their happily ever after. Or, at least, that’s what his optimistic nature has him holding out for. 3. passionate ;; “ showing or caused by strong feelings or a strong belief. ” ***** At first, most people would think passion and dedication go hand in hand. Zaine thought the same thing until he started studying medicine. He’s never been so passionate about anything before and feels like, for the first time, he actually understands what that word means. He truly has found his calling and Zaine thinks he’d do anything to keep it. Though it seems like his life has been overtaken with passion lately; ever since Salvatore’s made an appearance in Zaine’s life. The physical side of things was where the passion started, but eventually that passion evolved into something more for Zaine. And just like with medical school, he’s never felt this way about anything. Or anyone. The only caveat to that is sometimes Zaine thinks that maybe Sal doesn’t feel the same way.

—– CHARACTER FLAWS !! 1. co-dependent ;; “ excessive emotional or psychological reliance. typically a partner who requires support due to an illness or addiction. ” ***** For all the things that Zaine is, the one thing he certainly isn’t is dependent. It started with a dependency on his family that Zaine has still yet to break. He looks to them for money, food, shelter… but most of all, attention and love; scraps he only gets thrown his way every once in awhile. As he’s grown up, that constant need for validation from his family has become easier to conceal, but harder to swallow and some days Zaine feels like one wrong word could break him. // His co-dependency only worsened when he started looking for that validation outside his own home and within the hearts of others. Liam wasn’t the first boy to bear the brunt of Zaine’s neediness, nor was he the last, but he was the most important. He was the one who finally woke Zaine up to what he was doing. Even though Zaine wasn’t one to complain or talk about any negative feelings he may be having, he would make up for it by smothering the people who showed him any kindness. Which is why he’s so reluctant to push Salvatore into anything permanent when some days he knows all Sal wants to do is push him away. He can’t risk having his heart broken again so soon even if it means starving his co-dependency. 2. reserved ;; “ slow to reveal emotion or opinions. ” ***** Zaine is one of those people most others have a hard time cracking. The kindness he grew up with ( and still does have ) has molded into a selfdefense mechanism. Now Zaine is always nice. He’s always kind. He’s always someone you can count on. The only problem is Zaine’s always been hard-pressed to find someone willing to be that person for him. Those that he’s opened up to have either not understood or outright rejected him for it, so if Zaine’s not talking someone else through their problems, he’s probably not saying much. It’s not in his innate nature and it’s definitely not how he wants to be, but showing how your really feeling is a scary thing. Especially when, over the years, you’ve been shown it might be even scarier for you and you’re situation. 3. vulnerable ;; “ needs special care, support, or protection due to age, disability, or risk of abuse/neglect. ” ***** Due to Zaine’s general goodness, he’s been left vulnerable to other people. He’s been used and abused throughout the years by family members, classmates, friends, and significant others all because he’s never learned how to say no. He’s done twelve page reports over night, played sports he had no interest in, and gone too far, too soon with people he probably wouldn’t have done that with if they hadn’t asked him to. He’s never been one to be taken for a fool, but Zaine also never been one to refuse a stranger the shirt off his back. It’s a dangerous road to walk down and Zaine’s sister, Kiah, sometimes seems like the only one making sure he doesn’t get hit by traffic.

What are this character’s motives? What drives this character? What are their goals?

—– ZAINE’S MOTIVATIONS !!

1. a desperate need for acceptance and love 2. a fear of never being good enough 3. dreading the idea of being / ending up alone 4. wanting to better other’s lives 5. to make the world a better place, one step at a time

—– ZAINE’S GOALS !! 1. make his family proud ;; Zaine has, from a young age, always had a desperate need for his family to love and accept him. Of course, this need wasn’t so desperate he was willing to commit any sort of dirty, evil, or unlawful act that might change his family’s perception of him. His good heart is the only thing Zaine can see that keeps him from being truly relatable with his family, but it’s also the one thing he’s not willing to give up. So, instead of taking the low road he knows would be easy (as being good, he’s learned, has always been the harder choice), Zaine’s determined to win his family over with kindness. If he can just prove to them that violence and cheating and breaking the law isn’t always the way to go then maybe he can finally have the family he’s always wanted to be apart of. 2. convince salvatore he’s worth loving & get over liam ;; After Liam, Zaine has taken on a bit of a notion that maybe, just maybe, Zaine isn’t worth loving. That that’s the reason his parents and family all shun him. Of course he knows, logically, that’s not true. Or he sort of knows that… Either way, Zaine is determined to get Sal to say the words eventually. The first problem being Zaine’s not entirely sure how to get to that point yet. The second, he might still be a little in love with Liam. It’s been less than a year since they broke up and his feelings for the boy were strong, despite how things ended. Zaine’s sure his feelings for Sal have to potential to ( maybe even have ) surpassed what he had with Liam, but he can’t bring himself to let his heart forget the first boy he ever really gave a part of himself to. 3. bring valencia and nico together ;; Nothing would make Zaine happier than to see Val and her estranged half-brother, Nico, be a proper family. He’s come up with a plan but he’s worried it might end up backfiring on him and he’ll be forced to pick between them. Zaine’s never been good with things like that and he’s worried he’ll lose them both. However, the drive to see the closest thing he has to a friend in his family happy with herfamily is strong enough to work past those nagging thoughts. 4. extend kindness & love to killian ;; Zaine has always been good at picking up on the people who need a friend the most and, recently, Killian’s been at the top of his list. Everyone needs a friend, a shoulder when times get tough, and Zaine is determined to become just that for Killian. They’ve had a rough life, Zaine’s sure of that much at the very least. So Zaine’s been jumping at Killian any chance he can get, trying to get them to show even the slightest interest in being friends with Zaine. It’s one of the toughest shells he’s had to break in a long time, but he’s sure they’ll crack eventually. 5.develop his kinship with kiah ;; The few hints towards an underlying relationship between himself and his sister have been sprouting up more and more often lately. At first, Zaine was convinced they were coincidences; it was only happening because it was in Kiah’s best interest. Now, he’s not so sure. So Zaine’s been pushing the boundaries a bit lately to see what he can get away with. If there’s anyone in his immediate family he wants a relationship the most with, it’s Kiah. These revelations have only fueled the burning fire Zaine has when it comes to building bridges with his family. 6. finish medical school / become a pediatrician ;; This goal is at the top of Zaine’s list. Or, it is for now. I have a feeling Zaine is going to let his compassion walk all over him, to the point where he fails out of medical school. Having a passion for something isn’t enough; especially when you’re not already gifted in that particular field and your mind is constantly on other people’s problems. However, for now, this is Zaine’s first and most important goal. Graduating from medical school will give him means to stop using his parents’ blood money, to potentially make them proud of him, and, most importantly, Zaine will be following his passion and doing what he does best: taking care of others.

What potential plots do you foresee for this character?

REMOVED

Would you be open to this character’s death?

REMOVED

PARA SAMPLE

“ I just can’t do this anymore, Zaine. When you’re with me, you’re never really with me. All you do is talk and talk and talk about your family’s problems and how your best friend keeps going back to her ex and how do I get her to stop, Liam? How do I save her? Because… ” Liam paused, running a hand through the shaved hair, “ That’s all you do. You go around saving the world from evil and then you come here and it’s like I’m all that’s keeping you together. That’s not healthy. This relationship isn’t healthy and I can’t… I’m sorry, Z, but we have to be done. This has to stop. ”

Zaine closed his eyes, as a thousand metaphorical knives were thrown into his chest. This hadn’t been what he’d wanted. He’d only been in the door five minutes. He’d only asked if Liam could come with him to a friend’s fundraiser. Granted it was their anniversary night, but Lorena needed him. How was he suppose to say no? He thought Liam would understand. Liam always understood, “ I can fix this, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want, Liam…. I’ll be whatever you want me to be, just please… Don’t. Please. We don’t have to go. ”

Liam looked as if Zaine had pointed a remote at him and hit pause for a second, before seemingly catching his breath, “ I’m sorry…. God, I’m so sorry. But you’re never around. You’re always at your parents house or helping a cat stuck up in a tree or whatever and that was endearing at first, Zaine, it was, I promise. But now it’s horrible. I just want you here. Except, I don’t want you here when you’re here, because it’s never about us, is it? It’s always about you and what’s going on in your life and your friends and family’s lives. I’m not your personal diary, here for you to pick up only when you need love and support and an ear to bend. That’s not how a relationship works. ” Liam stood up from his side of the bed and took a few steps towards Zaine, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, “ Well, no, actually it is but it’s got to be two sided. I’m done being you’re entire support system. Go find someone else to lean on. ”

The knives seemed to have dug deeper into his chest as now it felt like his entire heart was being sliced open. Liam was everything; his entire world stood right there in front of him telling him he wasn’t good enough. And of course Liam deserved better. Liam deserved everything. Zaine had always known he wouldn’t be able to give him that, but he figured the day Liam realized was far off in their future. Years down the road, even. But then again, Zaine had always had a tendency to latch on to the boys he dated, didn’t he? He’d have their entire life planned out before they’d even gone on a second date. It was just how Zaine worked and he always ended up taking that life for fact; certain all those dreams were going to come true every single time.

Tears welled up in his eyes, making it hard to see, but that was a blessing. Zaine didn’t want Liam’s angry eyes focused on him anymore. He blinked the tears away anyway, “ So that’s it then. You’re just… giving up on me? I thought we had a future together. A happily ever after. That’s what you were suppose to be. ”

“ Yeah. I thought that too. ” The hard edge to Liam’s tone softened, “ I really am sorry, love. I’ve, uh, packed up all the stuff you’ve left here. It’s in the box on the kitchen counter. You can pick it up on your way out. ”

And that was that, wasn’t it? All Zaine could do was nod and turn around, forcing his feet to walk out of the bedroom. Forcing his hands to pick up a box that felt like it was full of lead. Forcing himself into his car. Forcing himself down one street. Then the next street. Then the next and the next and the next until he was home. Not his parents’ home, mind. The apartment he’d gotten for himself. He’d never really liked living on his own and the flat reflected that. There weren’t many pictures or decorations or even food in the fridge, but Zaine didn’t mind. For once in his life, he craved being on his own.

The couch was the closest soft thing to the front door, though his bed would have been more comfortable. Stumbling face first into the cushions, Zaine finally let himself give way to the sobs he’d held onto for the past twenty or so minutes. In fact, he let himself cry so hard and for so long that when he eventually rolled over there was a face shaped puddle imprinted into the fabric. The shadows on the walls were long and Zaine pulled out his phone to check the time. It’d been nearly four hours since his heart had last been in his chest and Zaine figured he must have fallen asleep somewhere in between all the crying.

There wasn’t anywhere in particular he had to be, given his parents weren’t all that interested in where he was and his friends all thought he’d be with Liam, so Zaine took this infrequent down time to just stare at the walls; contemplating just where, exactly, he’d gone wrong with Liam. Maybe his boyfriend ( ex-boyfriend ) was right. Maybe he hadbeen leaning on Liam to often. It just wasn’t every day he found someone willing to actually listen to him just ramble on. In fact, it had been nearly impossible his whole life. And then there Liam was, almost as kind and gentle as himself, with a shoulder to lean on and an ear to chat with.

Somewhere, he supposed, lines had been blurred and that was all Liam had become. Zaine couldn’t even remember the last time they’d been intimate, something that had been integral to the beginning on their relationship when they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other. A new cold rushed through him and he pulled a blanket off the back of the couch. It didn’t do much to help with the chill, but he pulled it up tight to his chin and closed his eyes, hoping to shield himself from the world ( and the truth ) for just a little while longer.

EXTRAS

m o c k b l o g ——- [[ link ]]

h e a d c a n o n s —

INFJ-T ;;

The Advocate personality type is very rare, making up less than one percent of the population, but they nonetheless leave their mark on the world. As members of the Diplomat Role group, Advocates have an inborn sense of idealism and morality, but what sets them apart is that they are not idle dreamers, but people capable of taking concrete steps to realize their goals and make a lasting positive impact.

Advocates indeed share a unique combination of traits: though soft-spoken, they have very strong opinions and will fight tirelessly for an idea they believe in. They are decisive and strong-willed, but will rarely use that energy for personal gain – Advocates will act with creativity, imagination, conviction and sensitivity not to create advantage, but to create balance. Egalitarianism and karma are very attractive ideas to Advocates, and they tend to believe that nothing would help the world so much as using love and compassion to soften the hearts of tyrants.

Advocates find it easy to make connections with others, and have a talent for warm, sensitive language, speaking in human terms, rather than with pure logic and fact. It makes sense that their friends and colleagues will come to think of them as quiet Extraverted types, but they would all do well to remember that Advocates need time alone to decompress and recharge, and to not become too alarmed when they suddenly withdraw. Advocates take great care of other’s feelings, and they expect the favor to be returned – sometimes that means giving them the space they need for a few days.

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O-negative ;; the “Universal Donor”

He gives and gives and gives but rarely receives. The only help he can get is from others just like him; anyone else just wouldn’t match up.

Hufflepuff ;;

Dedication. Patience. Loyalty. All of these traits are characteristics of a Hufflepuff nature and even though Zaine has never truly thought about it ( he’s just never really gotten into Harry Potter, okay? he’s honestly sorry. ) it’s the house I’m sure the Sorting Hat would pick for him. This is the house with the least rivalries, the most hard-working students, and those who are most insistent on fair play and modesty. All of which are spectacular examples of traits people see in Zaine every day.