#(immediately gets into trouble and she has to save him and he gets all huffy but allows her to hold him close)

[domwitch]

Thinking about a story where a prince is betrothed to a werewolf queen as part of a peace treaty. The prince is taken away to live in the werewolf queen's forest, where dangerous creatures lurk in every corner. Basically the prince is kind of a brat who refuses to adjust to the brutal lifestyle the queen lives while the queen stubbornly keeps him by her side because he's just sooo cute. Just... big scary woman covered in scars baring her fangs at a cute stubborn prince who goes "hmph! >:(" but secretly loves her attention.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Melting Ice and Warmth and Words

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Teba x Saki, 8505 Words

I made this fic for @zzariyo for my server’s gift exchange event! Hope you enjoy, I had a lot of fun with it :3

In which Harth is the gay best friend(TM), Teba is a god damn fool, and I become a lesbian for Saki. Also this was slightly based on a post about how Saki threatens Teba with a sword.

This is the tumblr version but check it out on AO3 if you prefer

- - - - - - - - - -

"Historians probably hate you," Harth mumbled, as he tested the weight of his bow. "This is, what, the third time you've stolen priceless artifacts?"

Teba continued flipping through the pages. The sound of rustling parchment melded with the crackling fire behind him. A soothing mix of leather and pine aromas filled the Flight Range.

"It's not stealing if no one knows it exists," Teba countered, not bothering to look up.

"Yet."

He shrugged. "Yet."

Another sigh filled the air, and the two of them went back to their respective preparations. Harth set down his Swallow Bow and went to fill up two sets of quivers, while Teba continued poring through the personal history of a dead Champion.

It had been a day or two since he had found yet another artifact from a century ago. The depths of the Flight Range, and the expanse of the not-so-well-kept records in the library hid all too many secrets, to which Teba had taken full advantage.

This journal was worn, cracked smoky leather showing its fragile age. Although in comparison to its two predecessors—Revali's Diary and The Great Revali's Diary respectively—this journal was in much better condition. Other than by the contents of the pages itself, Teba had discovered you could decipher the chronological order of the diaries based on how sophisticated the titles were. The more extravagant ones being more recent, that is.

The warrior let out a huff after perusing through another paragraph of dark, cursive writing. He continued digging through the pages with an aura of frustration. Harth, ever one to press his buttons, glanced back.

"So if you don't plan to inform everyone else about your latest finding, yet, what exactly are you doing with it now?"

Another turn of the page. "The same thing I've done before. Searching for clues."

A smirk formed on Harth's face. "Hm. You know these days it's hard for you to read a cookbook properly without help."

"Shut up will you, I'm trying to focus."

A shrug, and then a beat of silence; the two of them basked for a moment in the piercing wind that cut through the Flight Range.  The flickering shadows cast by the fire only served to add to the almost haunting beauty that tonight brought. The chilling midnight moon was a barely distinguishable sliver, white against white in the brewing storm. Teba could only long for the soft hammock of his home. Although, it's not like he would be relaxing anyway.

Nearly all hours of the day, if he wasn't practicing with his bow, he was poring through a damn book. It definitely wasn't out of a passion for reading, but more of a desire to spite his superiors.

Elder Kaneli had yakked his beak off about how the "bow of Champion Revali is our last physical connection to our valuable history" and thus was not to be taken out of its chest, ever. So there went Teba's dreams of dissecting it and constructing a masterful bow of his own.

Kaneli had said that a "young Rito like yourself shouldn't spend so much time out in the cold." So there went Teba's desire to devote himself to archery, shackled by the Flight Range's new "curfew," which was essentially a bedtime.

And, years ago, after a teenage Teba had found the very first diary of the Rito Champion, showing it off to the respected elder as quick as he could, Kaneli had beamed in his rocking chair and said, "Oh hoo! We shall get to storing it immediately!" So there went Teba's achievement, gathering dust in a box for a good three weeks before he had just decided to start sneaking into the records at night to pore through it. "Preserve the paper's integrity" his ass, he knew the librarian just hated him for that time his makeshift bomb arrow had caused her tail feathers to smell burnt for a month.

At nearly every turn, there was always something that hindered Teba's progress towards getting clues about how to master Revali's Gale. If that wasn't enough, Kaneli had been nagging him more and more lately about settling down and relaxing. Just a few years ago, Kaneli had been all about training him to be a mighty warrior, but nowadays the elder just couldn't seem to shut up about "exploring new pastimes!"

So here he was, with his new pastime. Reading, like the thrilling warrior he was.

Teba rolled his eyes after skimming through another paragraph. He hurriedly turned through a few more pages, the rustling parchment catching Harth's eye once again.

"So how's the research going? Is it just brimming with inspiring details about how to command the wind?"

Teba chuckled, although there was clear bitterness in the tone. He held up and flipped the journal around, so that Harth could read the contents written within.

"You tell me..."

~The Eighth of Nayru's Moon~

Once again, that little knight has failed to so much as acknowledge my presence. He probably wouldn't know charisma and impeccable skill if it was shoved right into his perfect face— and goddess believe me, I have tried as such.

Just today, I was— formerly assumed alone— at the Flight Range, practicing my Gale, when from the corner of my eye I saw him watching me. His face, an unfortunate yet predictable bland block of carving wood. Even after witnessing my masterful abilities? HA! His dead gaze borders on blindness.

To think, the King is looking to appoint him as the princess' personal guard. I should think someone as unperceptive as he would do better as a cleaning maid. Forget the quick instincts of battle, I'm sure he'd be dead in an instant. He just blankly looks and looks, and stares and stares. All he ever does is stare at me, unassuming... with those striking blue eyes of his.

Too striking. Distracting even. If he dares show his stupid, atrociously awful face at my Flight Range again, I might just have to nip his poorly drawn bowstring myself. Followed by a legendary duel to the death, of course.

Then again, if he for some reason stops by tomorrow, I wouldn't mind that much.

Harth leaned back and gave Teba a smirk. "So, that's a no on the Gale research then?"

Teba let out another huff, snapping the book closed and getting on his feet. "Nothing but boy troubles in this one. He has to have kept more entries out there that could actually be useful to me."

Fiddling with an arrow shaft in one wing, Harth went back to filling the quivers. He let out a laugh. "Ah, I'm sure it's not all useless! At least now you know you're not the only Rito in history who's terrible at flirting."

A scoff. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"That was literally about as straightforward as I could have been with this topic."

"Well do me straighter."

Harth proceeded to have a coughing fit for five minutes.

The sounds of wheezing laughter and less than polite comments from Teba echoed through the Flight Range.

"Hylia, I may not be looking for a wife, but I hope one day I adopt or something just so I can tell my grandkids how much of an idiot you are," Harth finally said, at the end of their colorful banter. "But yes, thank you for proving my point. A Boko skull has a better grasp on charisma than you."

The warrior crossed his wings over his chest, looking away. "Well sorry that I've been focusing on my strengths rather than dabbling in immaturities."

"Remember when you were in the infirmary and you tried to tell that nurse, Saki," he snorted, "You tried to tell her she had nice posture–"

"Shut it. Shut it and quit your grinning before I shove you into the fire and use the arrows as kindling."

Another laugh echoes, and the most Teba can do is narrow his eyes. But after a beat, he perks up and looks back in his direction. "How do you know her name?"

Harth raised an eyebrow. "Saki? Well I don't know, she treated me during that Ice Talus accident a month back. I probably just asked for her name at some point, you know, like a normal person." He shook his head. "Spirits above, Teba, you've probably been in that infirmary more than I have. Have you really not gained the social skills to ask for someone's name?"

He stared at the very interesting and engaging wooden floor, shifting his weight between his legs. "I don't have to answer that."

"Oh, woe is you. Kaneli never gave you a pep talk about how to make friends?"

"HA! I think our conversational topics peaked in the days where he actually encouraged my archery training. Less 'pep talk,' more 'lecture,' nowadays."

"Alright, alright, save your daddy problems for breakfast, Teba."

Teba glowered much in the way a Lynel would to its soon-to-be-dead prey, feeding Harth's amusement.

"Anyhow, you needn't go so hard on the guy, he just doesn't want you to kill yourself, which is especially relevant tonight." He turned around and picked up the now fully stocked quivers. "Now that you've finally managed to tug your beak out of that book," he tossed one to the huffy bird, "Let's go slay some monsters."

Teba's earlier expression morphed into stern concentration, emotion dripping away in favour of a practiced warrior's focus. He grasped one of the arrows and inspected the tip. "Fire arrows? Wouldn't bomb arrows be more effective on monsters?" The night seemed to turn colder to match his more serious tone.

The charcoal feathered Rito slung his bow and quiver onto his back, speaking quickly as he worked. "Not necessarily. We want as much vision as we can, can't risk getting blind-sided by even one of its attacks. Explosions would give even more cover to an already invisible foe." He also mumbled something about how he barely had the income to afford them.

There was a moment of silence as Teba calculated and turned over Harth's words, before putting the pieces together. He gave a confident nod as confirmation.

"So… have you ever slain a Wizzrobe before?" Harth asked.

The warrior smirked to himself, turning towards the exit with bow and quiver. White against white as he stood on the snow covered landing.

"Not yet."

- - - - -

Thunderous sounds in a frozen tundra; it came after the ripple of footsteps.

Jaded peaks weathered grey, the sky couldn’t be distinguished from the land. The snow had pounded harder and harder as they flew, flurries coating the feathered fletchings on their arrows.

Harth landed first, walking around on the open, frigid expanse. Teba did a sweep of the surroundings from the air. Nothing.

The base of the Hebra Mountain Trail— just under the shadow of the South Summit— this was where the last attack was. Hopefully it was where the final one was too.

There had been three travelers total; two Rito, one Hylian merchant. Minor injuries. Most all ran away at the first sign of frostbite. It was normal for the occasional monster attack to come up every now and again, and it just wouldn’t be worth the resources to hunt down every Lizalfos and Bokoblin that happened upon some unfortunate soul. By the time anyone lives to tell the tale, the beast has probably already moved miles from where it was last seen. The Hebra wasn’t exactly the most accommodating of places to enjoy long term.

And so that was the excuse. Save the supplies for bigger threats. An Ice Talus, Hinox… Hylia forbid a Lynel. A Wizzrobe would probably be off dancing in the sunset by now, and thus, no warriors should waste supplies looking for an “unnecessary fight."

Teba remembered scoffing when he heard the news— a scoff apparently so spiteful, that it had earned him a rare glare from Kaneli.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Teba. You won’t be recklessly going off alone to find it, understand? I mean it!”

Teba perched on one of the cliffs, getting a clear view of Harth below, surrounded by white on white on white. Harth turned his head and gave a thumbs up in his direction.

Well, that was one half of the instructions followed. The “stupid” part is still up in the air, though.

Teba unslung his Falcon Bow from his back, resting a fire arrow on the bowstring’s serving. If someone were to look up at where he crouched, they would be greeted by a piercing golden gaze; a pair of cold suns that sent you shivering.

That was the intent, anyhow. A warrior with a gaze like fire. Like lightning, like metal, like suns, like steel. That’s what he’d been told in the past, so he might as well use it to his advantage.

Still… he remembered once how someone had compared them to honey.

“What?” He had been taken aback by the sudden observation.

“Or like butterscotch… I use it a lot when baking. Oh! I’ve seen gorgeous dandelions like it too.” The nurse—“Saki?” Did Harth say?—tended to the wound just below his eye. “You should be thankful the color is so pleasant, the sight is probably what caused that Moblin to miss its mark!” Saki smiled and for the first time, Teba understood what it meant to call something “the sun.”

“Make sure you don’t use those eyes of yours to go looking for more trouble. Or else…” She had narrowed her eyes playfully. Noticing him just staring at her in silence, she cocked her head to the side, curious.

“Sorry, was there something you wanted to say to me?”

Yeah, but I’m not sure what. All he could really notice at that moment was how relaxed her posture was around him. Usually, he was surrounded by his fellow rigid warriors, or the stance of someone that looked in his eyes and saw fire. So…she was a nice change of pace.

Too bad his communication skills could be trumped by a deflated octoballon. Teba's sigh manifested into a small white puff in the cold air. Nevermind that now.

He had to stay focused. Teba would cut no corners when it came to using Harth as bait. However, he couldn’t deny the somewhat pissy mood he was in. No Gale, no practice, no clues, no fights. Sooner or later the village might just strap him into a rocking chair and say it was for the best. What a joke… At least killing off a dangerous creature would help let off some steam— ice? Magic ice…water…arrows… fuck.

Teba rolled his eyes at his own incompetence. Can’t even be a decent wordsmith in my own head. Harth was right.

A sudden flash of movement and his mind immediately crashed back to reality. Eyes instantly trained back to the ash colored Rito on the ground, who had now turned and aimed his bow at the horizon. Not even a second after the movement was made, Teba had an arrow nocked and aimed in one practiced, fluid motion.

Harth had two arrows nocked, aiming towards an unseen target obscured in the haze of snow.

Black against the pale of midnight’s frigid sheet of snow. If Harth could see something, it would no doubt also see him. He stepped forward, Swallow Bow unwavering in the wind

Teba adjusted the draw of his bow, training its angle to match Harth’s movements and ready to release at a moments notice.

The crunch of talons on snow. A small patch of dead bushes just a few paces in front of Harth.

One step.

Two…

Suddenly, an arctic fox dashed to the right and disappeared into the snow.

A draining silence. Steady, freezing breaths condense into puffs of clouds out of Teba’s beak. There was still a knot of tension in his chest, but he could start to feel it ripple out, like a patter of footsteps as a mix of closed off fear and anxiety walked out the door. Still, he didn’t falter his draw. After a moment, he saw Harth put down his bow and sigh. The Rito turned towards Teba’s direction to give him a smile and a shrug.

Harth met his gaze.

Then, the expression on his face suddenly morphed into shock.

Teba didn’t think twice.

He snapped around and let gravity take him, loosing the already nocked flame. The hiss of fire flew and connected with its target with a satisfying crack! Midfall, he could hear Harth shout a much too late “Behind you!”

The fire arrow hit rock, crumbling stones clash against snow. The burst of flame roared like thunder on the cliffside. Although the creature wasn’t hit, the area of effect was still large enough to singe at the tips of cloth.

A pearly white robe that faded deathly blue. The glow of ice and dark silhouette. A shrill cry escaped from the Wizzrobe that had stood, wand in hand, behind Teba’s perch just seconds ago. Even in distress, it wore a chilling grin.

Bastard. You won’t get another chance.

Another flame nocked and loosed with lightning speed.

The creature laughed, as if in pity, and twirled in its step.

Gone.

Teba gave a flap of his wings to stop his momentum. His talons safely connected with the ground, and Harth was at his side at once.

“Are you alright!? Are you hit?!” Harth started to inspect his wing, but Teba continued staring at the sky, “S-Say something, dammit! Teba we need to—”

He held up a wing, the gesture with an unspoken tone of “shut it.” Teba readied another fire arrow and pointed into the air. He whispered.

“Listen…”

His eyes narrowed in concentration, trying to discern sounds from the muffle of wind. Harth pressed back and covered Teba’s blind spot, nocking an arrow of his own.

The wind was unaccompanied. The dead bushes shuddered a tempo.

And then the midnight sang.

Like the pleasant echo of a music box…a lullaby that seemed to twinkle against the brink of night and day. A ripple of footsteps. A sparkle to his left, skipping like stones, as if the wind was water. There was a faint laugh, but Teba was the one to smile.

Gotcha.

The Wizzrobe had barely manifested before the fire arrow flew. A burst of orange connected with its frail arm, and the creature shrieked. Harth quickly turned and fired his own shot, the arrow nearly lodging into its face, but arching low and hitting its torso instead. The Wizzrobe panicked while the two Rito went to reload.

“Go for the face!” Harth shouted as he went to grab two arrows from his quiver. “It’s the only part that’s not protected by that stupid magic robe!”

As if on cue, the Wizzrobe had started laughing to itself, its arms flailing wildly as the flames that engulfed its person suddenly disappeared. It gripped its Blizzard Rod in both hands, starting to twirl with a sickening grin.

Teba aimed for the sky. “Move!”

Harth shuffled back in obedience as fire soared. The arrow crashed into a giant sphere of ice that hurtled from the heavens, shattering into pieces just a few feet above their head.

The impact caused them both to fly backwards, the bow knocked out of Teba’s grip.

Hmm… fuck.

Teba crashed hard, tasting dirt and snow. Luckily Harth was able to get in position to fire an arrow.

Its arc through the air was cut short by multiple more icy spheres hurtling down around the Wizzrobe.

Harth cursed under his breath. While they were far enough away to avoid the barrage of ice magic that would no doubt freeze them with a single touch, it would be nearly impossible to get close enough for a kill. Teba picked himself up and crouched beside Harth.

“How much fire total?”

Harth shook his head and stared at the ground. “I was so concerned with not arousing suspicion…sneaking out to fight was one thing, but—”

“This is no time for regrets. How many fire arrows, dammit?”

Harth let out a huff. “I bought a bundle of five and split them between us. The last fifteen in each quiver are regular ones. Although at this angle I doubt they would be of any use.”

Teba’s eyes sat calculating for a moment. “So I’ve used two. One hit, one miss. And you—”

“I landed the third just earlier on its torso. The forth…” He turned in the direction of the shower of ice. He could see it smash against the wooden remnants of an arrow. “I used just now.”

Hylia forgive the less than polite words towards the spirits that Teba spoke.

Harth gave a nod towards Teba’s quiver, while handing him his Swallow Bow. “Here. I gave the extra to the best shot around. I’ll distract it while you make the last shot count.”

Teba scoffed. “You and I both know you can’t just adjust to a new bow on the fly and expect to be accur—”

“Well if you’ve got a better plan, I’m more than happy to hear it!”

Teba grimaced. Always life and its impossible instructions.

The warrior slung his quiver in front of him, indeed confirming the last fire arrow nestled between the regular ones. He took the Swallow Bow in hand and gave another glance towards the Wizzrobe.

Its earlier spell had stopped now, and it was now skipping all too happily towards them. The ripples of its chiming steps seemed to glow brighter and brighter as it approached.

Tsk. What a gloat. It’s not even bothering to sneak up on us anymore.

Harth gave a flap of his wings and hovered. “I’ll lure it near the base of the mountain trail, and you flank. Do what you must, it’s all you.” He took to the air and began taunting the Wizzrobe, attracting its attention.

Teba cursed. He harshly slung the quiver back around him while taking up the bow. In the motion, a journal dropped into the snow.

“Crap, the…” He trailed off, observing it for a moment. The words on the page it had opened up on caught his eye.

~The Twentieth of Starset Moon~

I hope a Wizzrobe carries me off before I see him again. I envy their magical ability to disappear from sight at a moment’s notice. Maybe then I wouldn’t embarrass myself so in front of Link.

I've always  called my eyes a mere jade. A simple enough descriptive hue, and on occasion it would serve as a masterful segue into a pun about how the best warriors have a gaze that can pierce like stone. But no, he just had to call it, “grass.”

“Actually, I’m fairly certain that the hues of Hyrule’s earthly flora are much lighter than the color of my eyes.” I had said. “Like I previously stated. Jade, or emerald works. Jagged jade if you are akin to alliteration.”

Curse my arrogance as my response only caused him to elaborate. “It’s not just the color” he had said. “It’s like a sensation. I like just looking at fields. To lie in them, and smell, and be in comfort in the grass and outside.” He shrugged like nothing was wrong. “Your eyes give me that comfort.”

Hylia is a cruel goddess to curse us Rito to become round puffballs whenever emotions get the better of us. THANKFULLY, he didn’t notice as he then started to ramble on and on about his—slightly concerning—knowledge about the flammability of plants. How flaming weapons and flint produced different embers. How any fire arrow can become a bomb arrow with enough kindling. How you could tell the flammability of certain flora based on the shade of green. He noted how my own eyes were not the most flammable, so… there’s that compliment, I suppose.

There was a roar in the distance as ice crashed onto the earth. Teba snapped the journal shut again.

The Wizzrobe had cast another spell, a blur of charcoal feathers could be seen dodging the attacks.

Teba stood sifting through his thoughts as quickly as he could. Whatever power above had caused him to stumble upon this entry…he’d have to thank them later when he had the time and the faith.

The idea was obvious in hindsight. If he couldn’t guarantee a shot at a small target, then make the target bigger.

The warrior took the fire arrow in one wing, and the journal in the other. The diary was old and dry, and obviously it had a much bigger surface area than an arrow tip.

So he quickly took the very last fire arrow and pierced it through.

It burst into flames in an instant. It certainly wouldn’t pierce anything, but with the bigger area of impact…combined with a new reckless plan, there wouldn’t be any need to.

He smiled and took towards the air.

“Uhh, Teba???” Harth yelled as he saw his friend approach, flying closer with a flaming book arrow in his beak. “What are you— fuck! Ay! Over here, princess!” Harth tugged at the Wizzrobe’s robe, luring its face towards Teba.

He couldn’t talk with the arrow and piece of flaming historical documentation in his beak, but he cocked his head in such a way to signal to Harth to turn.

“But?! Its face!” A fierce shake of his head in response. “Dammit Teba!”

Harth soared around the creature in a semicircle, avoiding its bursts of ice that make the feathers on his neck puff. The Wizzrobe turned to wave its wand, it’s backside now exposed to Teba.

The warrior quickly unslung his quiver and threw the leather strap around its neck, the weight of the arrows falling on the other side towards its chin.

“TEBA WHAT THE FUCK!?”

The Wizzrobe halted its midair dance, turning in the direction that the new weight had come from. The Blizzard Rod was already starting to glow.

“That’s right!” Teba shouted, as he took the flaming book arrow out of his beak. “Show me that ugly grin of yours!”

He gave one last flap of his wings before letting gravity take him, nocking the arrow on the Swallow Bow. As predicted, he couldn’t fully compensate for the difference in the bow.

Its weight was all different, the string strength was all wrong, the grip was much more loose than he’d have preferred—

Through the haze of snow, and paper, and his own pale feathers, the Wizzrobe’s shining grin greeted Teba in full.

White on white.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Catch!”

The arrow loosed.

The flaming book seemed to soar in slow motion, or perhaps that was just on account of its weight. It arched high, nearly on path to connect with the creatures gleaming teeth, but the strength just wasn’t there and it bowed lower still to the Wizzrobe’s neck.

FWOOSH!

The journal was destroyed on impact, paper glowing and fluttering. The creatures’ attire was set alight, but all it did was laugh like it was an inconvenience. Like a party trick it had already gotten tired off. It started to try and pat itself down, but…

“Let’s see you laugh now, bastard.”

The quiver’s leather wouldn’t catch on its own given its natural resistance. But with the flutter of dried parchment…

All it took was one fiery page, and the arrows caught. The Wizzrobe suddenly suddenly shrieked, but the sound was muffled and cut off by sputtering and the sound of what Teba could only assume was suffocation. The bundle of arrows glowed like a campfire, the flames engulfing the creature's neck and already licking at its face. It attempted to remove the quiver wrapped around it with both arms, tossing the Blizzard Rod into the air in panic, but it was already too late.

The giant necklace of kindling roared in the Wizzrobe’s face, and in seconds, the icy beast was reduced to mist. The wind its grave, as the last of its magical robe rippled in the night.

Teba landed on the ground, eyes bright with unexpected happiness as he cheered.

“WOOOOO! Did you see that!?! I can’t believe that worked holy fucking shit, take THAT asshole.” He shouted into the air with a rare show of relief. THANK YOU Champion Revali and that Hylian knight arsonist! Gods, who knew reading would be so—”

“ROD!”

“Wh—” Teba turned in time to see Harth flapping towards him. But closer still, Teba saw the blur of the Blizzard Rod falling through the air, just seconds away from impacting the ground.

Hmm…

Gravity surely wouldn’t simulate the effects of waving a magic ice wand around, right?

SHING!

Fuck.

A burst of ice exploded from the rod’s impact, Harth slammed into Teba just as he could feel the cold travel to the tips of his wings.

The two Rito crashed into the snow, and Teba was able to taste the delicious flavours of snow, stone, and dirt for the second time. He propped himself up with a wing that was now faintly aching. He had a bit of a coughing fit, as Harth got up.

“Teba…” he trailed off, still in a bit of shock. “Wh…Where the hell’d you get a crazy idea like that from?”

The warrior had the strength to shrug with one shoulder. “New hobby?”

Harth playfully shoved Teba back into the snow as they both laughed.

Teba stared up at the frozen sky. It was already fading blue, the brink of night and day tipping towards a yet unseen sun.

That wasn’t so bad. Just a few arrows, a quiver, a book, and we’ve got justice for our village. If we hurry we can make it back before breakfast and Kaneli’s none the wiser.

Harth stood over him and offered a wing. “Alright, let’s go grab your bow and get out of here. I think I can feel my tail feathers freezing off.”

Teba shivered, reaching out to get up. “Yeah, no kidding. It’s almost like it—GUH!” He crumpled to his knees.

“Teba!” Harth propped up his back as he went to inspect him. He gasped when he saw his wing.

The black feather accents were laced with ice, the very tips of his wing were already starting to become glassy and stiff. Teba held back a yelp as he felt the ice grow further up his wing.

“Oh shitshitshit, that Blizzard Rod still got you.” Harth frantically went to remove a piece of cloth from his armour to wrap it around the ice. “Try to keep that warm. Uh. The mountain lodge is nearby, maybe we can get a blanket? Oh shitshitshit….”

Teba mumbled something incoherent as he felt the ice grow further.

“Guh… We can just keep this incident between us like planned, yeah? Kaneli is gonna be pissed that I blew up his quiver.’”

“Idiot! Get on my back, you could lose a wing!”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I could probably still fly.”

“Your feathers are snapping off, fuckface!”

Harth tried to get Teba to stand, but stopped when he started to hiss in pain. The cold on his left wing was starting to course through his whole body, and he shivered.

“Ok, ok. Maybe it’ll warm up when I get in the air. I’ll just start flapping a lot to keep the blood flowing. That’s how that works, right?”

“At that rate, you’ll not only be brainless, but wingless too.” A sudden voice echoed.

The boys looked up to see a set of pink feathers descend from the air. Harth’s eyes glowed with both immense relief and confusion.

“Thank Hylia, Saki….wait, what are you doing here, I—”

“Shhhhh…” Saki took out a sword, causing further confusion and shock to come to the boys. “All you need to know for now is that I was by the Hebra Trailhead Lodge when I heard a commotion that I can only assume you two fools caused.” She tried to press the blade against the ice on Teba’s wing.

Teba’s eyes darted between Harth and Saki. The feathers nearly everywhere on him but his left wing started to puff up given how close she was. He could smell a mix of nutmeg and warm safflina from her.

“I…uh…” Teba was rapped in the head with the broad side of Saki’s sword. “Ah! Hey—”

“Don’t move, before I decide on amputation.” Both of the warrior’s eyes widened. “Just joking! Ahaha… for now anyway.” Her cute little chuckle echoed in the air.

Saki finally put down the blade. She shook her head, the curls of her hair bouncing above her shoulders. “It’s already too strong to scrape off.” Harth’s head was turning left and right above them, like a child trying to get a peak of the action. Digging through the satchel on her shoulder, Saki took out a few heads of sunshrooms.

“Hold these, we don’t want that ice magic seeping in any further. It can spread to the blood faster than you think.” Teba’s beak was still agape when he obliged.

The pink colored Rito gave him a soft smile as she tucked a wing under his neck. She expertly flipped the Feathered Edge in her wing, so that it’s blunt side was aimed at Teba,

“Now, if your muscles move and contract any more, it’s just gonna cause any of the ice inside there to snap, effectively paralyzing you. We need to make sure there's no chance of that happening.”

Saki leaned down and pressed her head against Teba’s for a moment, planting the Rito equivalent of a peck on the cheek. “Take that as my premature apology.” Saki said. And that was the last thing he heard before he saw the swing of the blade’s hilt and everything went black.

- - - - -

Teba awoke with the sun in his eyes. He blinked, adjusting his gaze before identifying a blur of pink feathers in front of him.

“—and no doubt they’ve discovered you’re missing by now if she hasn’t said anything already. I’d fly back myself to inform the elders, but…” She trailed off, fiddling with the bandage.

“I could do it. You’ve probably already got your plate full with—gah!” A broad side of a Feathered Edge whacked Harth’s head.

“No. You need to keep that cut warm and toasty and uninfected. This bind won’t hold in those strong winds, and we can’t have the Tabantha skies blowing dust and grime into it.” Saki used her blade to cut the excess bandage on Harth’s neck, to which he slightly gulped.

Teba tried to sit up from where he lay. The Hylian style bed creaked under his shifting, and he muttered something about missing hammocks.

Saki suddenly stood, eyes lighting up to see Teba. “Oh good! You’re awake, let’s see how you’re doing.” She rushed to hold his wing, to which his heart immediately jumped into his throat.

“Saki, I—” Teba attempted to be articulate, but was distracted by the tenderness of her touch, and the sudden sweet smell of nutmeg and vanilla in the air.

“Stop moving your wing, Teba.” Saki examined all sides of his wing with a practiced eye. “I made the elixir in time to counter any frostbite, but you should still rest for at least another hour to make sure all the ice inside is truly melted.”

He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “You…remember my name?” It had been a few weeks since he had last seen her in the village infirmary. Usually he only saw the older doctors tending to patients.

“Well of course.” Saki cocked her head and gave him a warm smile. “I remember all my stupid patients.”

“Am I included?”

“Yes, Harth.”

“Nice.”

Teba’s eyes widened when she unsheathed her blade again. So much was happening so fast that surely if he wasn’t coddled in bed right now, he’d be snapping bones from the whiplash.

Saki held the metal near his wing. “The ice on your coat has softened by now, so I’ll just scrape it off,” Her blade gleamed with her bright smile. “Stay still!”

The warrior’s eyes continued to flicker between his wing, the blade, Saki, and Harth. Looking out the window, he saw the crisp blue sky glowing above a now serene and pleasant white snowfield.

“I don’t understand. Where…how long have….” He trailed off, but looked back at Saki. “What are you doing here?”

Saki stopped for a moment. “I…” Her shoulders sagged a bit as she paused. “Well…I know the elders said not to engage with the Wizzrobe incident. But…” She fixed her eyes on his wing.

“I’m a part of this village, and I care about its people. Those who are hurt, were hurt, or could be. I don’t like standing by when I could be helping.”

She looked back up and met his gaze. A pleasant blue that greeted the sun. “You understand, right? ‘We risk our lives everyday, might as well use it for something worthwhile.’ That’s the excuse you told me when I first met you.” She brushed a feather under one of his eyes. “Although, you were half unconscious, so I don’t blame you if you forgot. So anyhow! I stayed here in case any travelers came by with wounds or injuries. Keeps my heart at ease rather than just cooping up at home.”

Saki went back to removing the thin bits of ice on his wing, humming to herself. Teba savored the moment for what felt like a century, heart fluttering every time she glanced up to check on him.

Harth finally quipped in, tone playful. “Guess you’ve pretty much got the same mindset as us “fools,” eh, Ms. Saki?” He kicked back in his chair and crossed a leg over his knee. “Birds of a feather….heh.”

Saki snapped her head around to glare at Harth. “Actually,” the tone could cut steel, “The difference here, is that I had the common sense to not go out looking for a fight. I had the basic logic to understand that fighting a monster on its own turf would be reckless and idiotic. I had the brains to gather further supplies than a mere five fire arrows. And I actually had the decency to inform someone of my whereabouts should anything unexpected happen, rather than having the arrogance to think things would always go according to my own plans.”

She sighed again. “I hate to make Amali worry, but I’d rather stay here to look after you two while she informs someone to come pick you both up.”

Harth shut his trap real quick after that, to which Teba would have probably laughed if he wasn’t also scared of the possibility of getting the same treatment from her.

After a few more minutes, Saki finally finished up and patted his wing. Teba mustered enough courage to speak.

“Thank you…for everything.” He tried to prop himself up in the bed. “I can probably fly back in this condition. Kaneli’s probably gonna kill me twice over if I don’t get back soon.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to piss daddy off,” Harth snickered.

“Fuck off, Harth.” Teba and Saki quipped simultaneously. Teba however, was a bit taken aback by how calmly and sweetly she had spoken. The thoughts were knocked out of his brain when Saki rapped his skull with her blade again. “Ow! Would you—”

Saki pointed the blade at his throat. She was so close he was sure she could hear his heartbeat fast…and it wasn’t just from fear.

“Firstly, no. Neither of you boys will be leaving anytime soon so long as I’m here. You will be staying in bed,” she glared at Harth, but kept the blade on Teba, “And you will be keeping your tail feathers glued in that chair.” Saki turned back to Teba with a sweet smile.

“You will be staying here for the next eight hours, not so much as scratching the tiniest itch on that wing. Then, when someone comes here to pick you both up like I discussed, you will keep seeing me for at least another two weeks so I can monitor your injury. And perhaps when that’s all done, I will think about baking you a pie in celebration of your heroic feat tonight.”

She pressed the Feathered Edge a bit closer to his throat. “However, if this turn of events does not come into fruition…let’s say, if for some completely silly reason either of you decided to leave this cabin and fly home, well. I will just have to make sure to give you a reason to stay bedridden for another month. Do I make myself clear, warriors?”

The boys nodded as quickly as they could.

“Wonderful! I’m so glad we’re on the same page!” Saki's smile and tone was so quiet and sweet as she sheathed her blade once more.

Teba could still feel his heart thumping against his chest. There was a pleasant silence as the lodge was filled with the crackling of fire, and the occasional chirp of a morning bird. He stared at the way Saki’s eyes dazzled like a delicate sky.

Saki clicked her tongue. “Oh you poor thing. You’re still freezing aren’t you? Your feathers are all ruffled up.”

On instinct, the feathers on his neck—and pretty much everywhere else over—puffed up. “UH. Oh! Yeah. Cold. Very cold…yes.” He looked away and started coughing. Saki got up to get something by the fireplace, while Harth did his best to hide his snickering. Teba silently mouthed “help me” to Harth, which only further hindered his attempts to hide a laugh.

The pink Rito flashed one last pleasant smile at the two of them as she made her back towards the door. “Alright, I’m just gonna grab the firewood outside so I’ll be back in a moment. You’ll be alright, right? Nothing’s still aching or anything?”

Even muscle in Teba’s body seemed to melt at the way she curiously cocked her head to the side with a smile. The best he could do was mumbled out his thoughts before he had the chance to think them through.

“With you looking at—after me, I think I’ll be fine.”

Saki chuckled and Teba felt a combined feeling of pride and embarrassment. As she closed the door, Harth looked back at him.

“Very smooth. Quite the wordsmith.”

“Shut it, fuckface.”

- - - - -

TWO WEEKS LATER.

“What do you want?”

The doctor grumbled rudely as Teba did his best to not seem like a complete idiot. “Uh…Saki?”

“You want Saki?”

His mind shifted to a daydream. “Yeah…” Whenever her name was mentioned he couldn’t help but smile, but that fell away when he snapped back to reality. “WAIT, I mean— no. I don’t want— I mean not no, I just didn’t mean it like— I just.” Teba grumbled some more. “Where she is. I want where she is, or… need. I don’t want. I’ve never wanted— I just need the location. Her location, currently. Which is not here. Where is she. Please…”

Teba put on his best smile despite the fact that he felt like his body was suddenly on fire. Perhaps that was a habit learned from the Wizzrobe incident.

The doctor shook her head. “Kids and their incoherent rambling— She's coming back from Slippery Falcon last I checked. Baking another Get-Well-Soon fish pie, I assume.”

“Ah, great! That’s fantastic. Yes. Yeah! Great. Thank you so much, Una—”

“Get out already, Teba. This place is for the sick and injured. Not the…” she glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, “awkward, and alive. Both of which are actually quite surprising to see from you…”

He managed to give a weak mix of a scoff and a nervous laugh before promptly leaving.

Descending the many steps of Rito village, Teba’s mind raced with thoughts.

Just gotta not fuck up one conversation. Just a simple question! Just...quick little hang out...thing. Yeah. Yep. I can do that. She’s seen me blabber worse when I’m unconscious, so what’s one sober conversation. I’ve killed things! Why am I even stumbling over a few words? Tsk. Yeah. I’ve seen monsters and beasts and blood and blades, I've got this. This is doable, I can do this.

He suddenly bumped into a pink colored Rito at one of the turns, and she laughed as she fumbled with the honeycomb and butter held in her arms.

“Oh my! Well, good morning, Teba.”

I can’t do this.

“And where are you off to this lovely morning?” Saki tilted her head curiously, to which Teba’s eyes immediately dilated.

“…uh…I…” Was it just him or were her feathers slightly fluffier than usual? “I just wanted to…say hi.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Well.” She gave him a cheerful wave with a free wing, clutching her ingredients close to her chest. “Hi!”

“Y-Yeah. Hi…” Teba just stood there as Saki continued walking up the stairs behind him.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck do something, idiot I don’t have—

“Actually Teba…” Saki suddenly turned back around to face him. He quickly leaned a wing against the railing to seem casual. “If you’re not doing anything right now…do you mind helping me with something?”

Teba felt like he responded just a bit too quick. “Yes! Definitely. I can do that.” He coughed, and held out a wing. “You want me to hold something for you?”

She beamed. “Yes! Come on.” She shifted her baking ingredients in one wing, and used her free wing to hold his. Saki dragged him along as their feathers intertwined. Teba’s soul immediately left the mortal realm and his physical body was left stumbling and sputtering.

“WAIT! I—I DIDN’T MEAN! UH—I MEAN SURE— IF YOU’RE OK—BUT THIS ISN’T—”

“I have something heating up upstairs, so hurry along now.” She spoke quickly, not really having the extra confidence to look him in the eyes. But at this point they could both feel each other’s feathers poof as they held wings.

Carrying a mix of honey, Tabantha wheat, and butter, they both eventually made their way to the public kitchen where a fire was roaring.

Teba started grumbling apologies, but Saki cut him off by shoving a wood spoon and a bowl into his chest.

“Your rebellious nature won’t apply to cookbooks, yes?”

And with that, they got to it. Teba’s mind was still processing the events of fifteen minutes ago so while he stared blankly at Saki, he struggled to do the basic task of mixing.

“Here,” she held his wing and adjusted his grip on the spoon. If she wasn’t a pink Rito she might have blushed. “Try not to fling the batter out the window.”

They both started to gain just a bit more confidence as they continued working. Teba started to tease Saki a bit as he held the bowl with the salmon filling above her.

“What’s one little taste? It’s all gonna be eaten at the end, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you dare, it’s still raw!”

“Just one little dip.”

“If you stick one dirty little feather in that bowl I swear I’ll—”

Teba continued trying to dance around her, but she eventually got it back after a quick whack in the head with a spoon.

The morning flew above them, and the shades of a blue day were laced with clouds of white. The shadows of the hut spun across the floor like a spell. Eventually, the aroma of savoury fish with hints of butter filled the air. Teba grabbed a fork.

“This Get-Well pie was for me, yeah? So let me just—” Saki slapped his wing.

“Not yet, gosh.” She stole his utensil. “You forgot the most important part!”

Saki pressed the edge of the fork on the plain face of the fish pie, giving the little fishy a simple, honest grin.

“There!”

“That’s a bit creepy.”

“What?! No…it’s cute! A joyful little fish!”

“You know that this is just gonna be decapitated by me, yeah?”

“It’s about the sentiment, Teba. Hush.”

True to his word, Teba used a knife to take the first bite, decapitating the little creature. Stuffing his beak, his eyes immediately lit up. The flaky crust paired perfectly with the soft meat, the taste and texture beyond amazing.

Saki tilted her head, curious. “Well? How is it?”

“Mmmbfhbgm. Myeah. Yum.”

She clapped. “Oh I’m glad! I actually ignored the ratio a bit and put a bit more butter, so it’s good that that worked out.”

“What happened to following the instructions and rules?”

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her wings over her chest, playfully. “I don’t know… What happened to that priceless journal from Master Revali that was found to be missing from records a few days ago?”

“Damn. Fair enough, then.”

Saki suddenly gasped. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry I completely forgot about the time. You usually sneak off to practice Master Revali’s techniques by now, don’t you?” She went to grab a napkin. “Here, you can wrap this up and take it to the Flight Range, I didn’t mean to keep you for so—”

Teba went to grab one of her wings. “Hey hey! It’s ok. I’m still supposed to keep off the wing anyway, right?”

Saki scoffed, but didn’t pull away. “Oh, like you’ve been following that…”

“Better late than never?”

“Mhmm…”

Teba finally let go, and they stood in front of each other for a bit. Saki played with the curls of her hair, avoiding his gaze. Teba felt his feathers fluff up again, as he mumbled something.

“Hmm?” She looked up.

“Oh. I…didn’t say anything.”

“Ah, Right.” She looked away.

Fuck.

The warrior struggled to find the right words. In an effort to do anything but stay silent, he went to hold her wing again. Both of their feathers immediately floofed in response.

“S-Sorry. I should have—”

“No, it’s alright.” She kept his grip. “It’s alright.”

They both looked in opposite directions, Teba coughed again while Saki fiddled with her hair. The warrior continued screaming in his own mind, begging for some form of suitable and understandable words to come out of his beak. When he turned to speak, Saki cut him off with a soft smile.

“You know, Teba. You don’t have to say anything.”

His beak opened and closed for a few moments, confused. Finally he settled on his thoughts. “Can I try?”

She nodded. “If you really want to.”

Saki wrapped her wings around his shoulders, looking up at him expectantly. When he looked into her eyes, all he could feel was the embrace of a summer’s wind. It was blue. Cerulean. Perhaps teal, or a comparison of sapphire. There was a romantic simile in the world somewhere that he didn’t bother to find.

This close, he could see her eyes dilate, and count small imperfections on her beak. Teba stood as still as ice, before breathing out a bit in relief. He allowed himself to smile, and held her hips and swayed to some unknown rippling melody. Perhaps for just this moment, he accepted it. His words didn’t matter as his gaze lit up sweet and gold and honey. Finally, as they swayed and danced in warmth, the sun to the sky said,

“You look nice.”

[thr-333]

Could you possibly do one where Mari/Mari and marine is/are the daughter/son of the joker?

I actually planned quite a lot for this after you asked but could never get my thoughts to make something comprehensive so I give up here's what I got!:

-Twins are Joker and Harleys kids born before the two split up(and so help me they will split up this story needs gay aunt Ivy)

-As you might know, these two clowns have another kid; Lucy. Harley left Lucy with her sister when she was born. In canon, she thinks Harley is her aunt but I would say in this fic she learned the truth when the twins were also dropped off.

-So the twins grew up in Gotham with their aunt and big sister knowing full well who their parents are; as such they make the responsible choice to suppress every part of themselves that resembles them and constantly dye their hair in an effort to avoid looking like them. You know healthy coping mechanisms. -

-Naturally, Marinette has brown hair with blue eyes and Marion blonde with brown eyes.

-Their personalities are a bit different from Mismatch. 

-Marion is still a trickster and a trouble maker but this time around has Marinette fully involved and responsible for his shenanigans. He has a bit of a habit of talking to himself(or singing random phrases), sometimes in the third person; he hates when he does, so Marinette always tells him off. He’s always gets the impulse of dying his hair outlandish colors and will vehemently deny his favorite color is green.

- Marinette is crafty, both figuratively and literally. She’s smart, her mother is a doctor after all she can be manipulative to people that arent her(close) family to protect the ones she cares about. She has a deep-seated fear of becoming a trophy, an object to be put on display like her mother and so dresses the opposite and pushes away her love for fashion.

-They will always call each other Mari but if someone else tries they both answer its a nickname they strictly use for each other.

-In a world where Gotham exists it makes absolutely no sense that Gabriel wouldn't start his reign as Hawkmoth in Gotham(the place with the most negative emotions like geez) so that works out perfectly for the twins becoming heroes(Adrien can move to Gotham or be left in Paris to be kept safe your choice)

-Instead of the twins proving themselves by helping an old man up off the street they go a step further is beating up the thugs that try to rob him(all Fu’s set up of course). When they come home to find two mysterious boxes on their beds they make the only rational conclusion children of the joker would; it’s a bomb!

-Not wanting to get the police involved for obvious reasons they find the security footage(which gets the police involved in a different way) and start tracking down fu to see why he’s trying to kill him.

-And as you may recall at this point in canon Ladybug and Chat Noir are defeating an Akuma, well they're not here they’re off to beat up an old man so thats Batman’s job for the time being.

-The twins get caught up in the fight as civilians and are saved by Batman who immediately recognizes them(you don't think Batman has case files on all of Jokers hellspawn?) so that’s gonna be a problem later but never mind that for now~

-The twins track down Fu, who is wondering why they aren’t out fighting the Akuma. Long story short Fu comes back to the house with them and proves they aren't bombs giving them the miraculous.

-I’m a bit indecisive on the names. I thought Marinette would be Red Bug and Marion Black Cat(yes I know that names already taken I don’t care). But I thought Crimson Bug would work better because then their names would start with the same letters. Then I wanted alliteration like Black Bug and Crimson Cat but that obviously doesn't make any sense since Chats color is green not red-- then I realized it would be completely in character for them to call themselves that confusing everyone in the process so no one quite sure whos name is who(if you wanna write it go with whatever I just thought it could be funny)

-As for costumes Marinette's probably wouldn't be skin tight because deep down she really doesn't want to look like that but more practical armor or less form-fitting at least. Marion's hair turns green when he transforms something he freaks out about and Marinette's turns red(glowing or not either would look cool)

-So anyway they go off to defeat the akuma blah blah blah Batman seeing these two young untrained superheroes can only think of one thing: I have to adopt them. So that’s gonna be fun!

-Anyway they go back home trying to be sneaky and immediately get caught by Lucy: ”Don’t tell Aunty!”-- ”Oh I already know” (her names Delia by the way)

- So now the twins get a support system and a family that will look out for them unbelievable right? This support system immediately threatens Fu making sure he actually trains them and doesn't just set them loose on Gotham.

Anyway that's the end of my semi-cohesive plan and here's a vague outline for the fic:

1. Becoming ladybug and chat noir setting up adoption, and school(Bruce invites them to Gotham academy to keep an eye on the jokers children)

2. First day at school setting up Artemis(and by extension young justice), and own passions, Adrien is also at this school now so Marinette falls, Jason finds out falling in love with Marion

3. Becoming friends with Artemis, convinces them to give their passions a try, Marion runs from hood, some let me adopt you stuff also Jason's spite for Cat Noir

4. Skip a bit of time a few months or so, young justice need help Artemis suggest mari and mari, Marinette has a smackdown with batman about their heritage, at odds with young justice Artemis comes to their defense. Young Justice have an ‘oh’ realization on the job when Marion sings a lullaby to a scared child, now the young justice form the mari and mari protection squad

5. Doing ladybug and cat stuff batman approaches them again this time luring them into adoption with a partnership on finding hawkmoth, Red Hood and cat fight. Marion comes back all huffy and there's a scene with Lucy this time comforting them, Marion goes out to get air runs into hood marion bristles stirring Jason to meet him as a civilian, class come to visit, at odds with lila

6. Doing well at school even made a few friends when the Paris class come to visit completely under lila’s control, lila tries to slander the twins for not worshiping her only to out herself when she tells everyone they laughed at her(the twins never laugh), Jason also drops by further discrediting her, lila tries to throw their heritage in their face but they get support openly working with heroes as civilians, this little section ends quite happily with them being sort of accepted at school and batman tolerating their existence for not attacking the person who tried to make their life miserable

7. Time skip few years out of high school now, ladybug and cat are working well with gothams vigilantes widely considered part of the batfam even if no one knows each other's identities. As mari and mari they are doing good work mainly outside of gotham. Marinette is starting a fashion boutique with a little financial help from Wayne enterprises she also does costume design for heroes and villains, villains mainly because she can't stand their current outfits. Marion quite likes his music but isn't sure how he will feel in the public eye is great friends with Jason and the skip picks up with them officially starting to go out identities unknown. They are still hesitant about their identities in civilian life Marinette starting her business under a false name and Marion cant start his because of his heritage. Jason officially has to admit they are going out to the family is met with grilling by aunt and sister, joy by harley once she tries giving them sex advice they leave, his brothers tease and both are tense about Bruces reaction but he begrudgingly accepts. Are out as ladybug and Cat still snippy with hood but it’s not as bad they are closing in on hawkmoth. Go to hang out with young justice as well they aren't well-liked in Gotham but they’re fine with that(not really)

8. NOW things can go to shit joker finally has enough of them deciding to get a hold of them but I think it should be as ladybug and chat revealing their identities to the world. The twins are terrified rightfully so. Get saved now it’s weird between hood and marion, marion feeling betrayed Jason knew who he was and knew who his father was but still decided to date him and he just can't understand why. Adrien was so scared for Marinette and now they both have to work out why. Gotham is at odds the heroes they admire are born from a villain they fear. Bats are a bit weird feeling like they were tricked while also kind of acknowledging the twins are good people

9. Harassed in their everyday life now the twins go to young justice where they get met with awe for being established independent heros, bats there are acting weird but the twins say something to shift perspective leaving to let them mull on it. Jason tries to apologise saying he doesn't see Marion like that blah blah Marion has a breakdown asking how he can be anything but a villain. Marinette's having whiplash going from loved to hated and still dealing with the trauma of seeing her father. They snap. In public a big ol scene and they get akumatised everyone sees it, it’s on tv. Hawkmoth comes out to get their miraculous the batfam can’t beat him. He’s monolouging probing at their deepest fears when they snap back to reality realizing none of it’s true every part of them has worked to be good people and they are they don't hand over their miraculous beating the akumatizaton and beating hawkmoth while akumatised.

10. They are released from the hospital a few days later, getting hesitant recognition on the streets. It's not thunderous applause but it is something. Their family comes to pick them up, Adrien is crying to Marinette about not scaring him like that(her family took him in when Gabriel was revealed). Marion gets picked up by Jason they patch things over. They get accepted into the batfam and work as ladybug and cat for everything. Marion decides to start playing music and Marinette reveals her face to her fashion brand.

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

The five proposals Freed Justine rejected and the one he did accept.

Fraxusweek by @fuckyeahfraxus day 7, with the prompt being  :  Proposal/Wedding/Engagement

1. A girl who's confused, but has got the spirit.

It's a precarious situation and Laxus doesn't know how to solve it. They've got the bad guy of the day cornered, but instead of going along willingly, the man thought it a good idea to get civilians involved. Quickly, the perpetrator had seen that there was no way to get out of his situation, with Laxus, Bickslow and Evergreen trapping him against the side of a building. So he had wrangled a little girl out of her screaming mother's grip and now, he has his one hand wrapped around her throat while he waves a weapon around with the other one.

To her credit, the little girl isn't going down without a fight, kicking and screaming as the situation keeps escalating. If the man wasn't wearing a mask, Bickslow probably could've done something about it. Brainwashing the girl herself is out of the question, as she's more likely to injure than save herself. Opening fire upon the man is completely out of the question, so now they're all stuck.

Rest of the fic under the cut!

The answer comes in the form of their ever so dependable captain kicking down the door from the inside, effectively smashing it into the man who had unwittingly been shielding the little girl from stray doors suddenly opening. With a dull thud, the man falls to the floor, unconscious.

As Bickslow and Evergreen cheer their captain on for a job well done, Laxus catches the surprise in his eyes and the 'oops' he silently mouths before looking around. When Freed comes to the conclusion that his habit of tresspassing for fun has not gotten him into trouble for once, he smiles at his teammates while telling them of the importance of 'seeing all the options' amongst other things. Later, in private, he'll tell the little shit that he knows he's full of bull, but for now Laxus will let him gloat.

Starry-eyed, the now saved little girl tugs on Freed's jacket, narrowly avoiding getting clocked by his sword. "Mister, you saved me!" she says and Freed nods with more confidence than he should have, considering his heroic act was one of mere coincidence.

"That means you have to marry me", she says in a matter of fact voice that throws all of them off. "That's what my books say", she continues before throwing a hopeful glance at Freed.

Behind his back, Freed makes a tiny gesture with his hand and with a bit of magic, he hurls a rather concerningly large rock at Laxus. Swiftly, he moves between Laxus and the rock, fending it off with his rapier. "Well young lady", he says, turning to the girl. "Now I have saved this man as well and now I have to marry him too. I hope you don't mind sharing."

With all the huffy- and puffyness girls that age usually possess, she turns her head harrumphs. "No, I don't like sharing. I'm not settling for trash", she continues, giving Freed the stinkeye. "So our engagement is called off, goodbye my sweet prince", she dramatically sighs before joining her mom. She does wave them all goodbye though, so that's a nice bonus.

2. A girl who isn't confused and hasn't got the spirit.

The second time Freed gets proposed to, it isn't even done by the bride to be. No, the bride to be stands there somberly, as her father tries to offer Freed her hand. "Surely", the man says, "A handsome young man such as yourself wouldn't refuse a gorgeous young lady. She knows how to cook and keep quiet, what else do you want?"

There's a quick flash of anger in the daughter's eyes and anger radiates off Freed as well, although he's more apt at hiding it. It's only because Laxus knows him so well that he knows how the other man really feels.

"What else I want?" Freed asks, voice carefully leveled before throwing on the biggest of smiles. "Why, your son would be a good place to start. He's gorgeous as well and I bet he's a fast learner, we could make our dinner together before having a ménage à trois in our kitchen."

The words immediately hit home and before they know it, the four of them are hightailing it out of there, but not before Freed has pressed a vial with suspicious liquid into the girl's hand with a whisper of: "Please feel free to use this however you want."

3. The spirit.

As far as Laxus knows, the party gathered in front of him is reaching the peak of their little roleplay game. He has no idea what they're actually prattling about, but Freed looks happy playing whatever it is, so of course he's there too. Although he isn't participating and merely laying his head down on Freed's lap, as he's done the past few session, he can kind of tell what's going on based on observations and little comments Freed gives now and then.

Wendy is narrating the story and honestly, her youthful spirit adds a gentle touch to it. Levy, Lucy, Mira, Freed and for some reason, Gray and Loke are the nerds participating and rolling dice. Throughout the story, familial bonds have been formed and right now, they're on the cusp on something more than just familial.

Loke and Freed's characters have been flirting since pretty much the first session. Laxus really doesn't mind, because he trusts Freed and also because both men are making a competition out of it. It keeps Freed sharp, so to speak and he only becomes better at flirting with Laxus in return. It's ridiculous how smooth he is sometimes.

In-game, Loke has proposed to Freed and the whole group is hollering and shouting until Loke rolls the dice. Then they fall silent, so naturally, Laxus presumes something bad has happened. Calmly Wendy shoots the group a warm smile before saying: "Alberion (the name of Freed's character) panics, thinking he's gotten too close to the enemy. He shoots Guryon (Loke) and flees, back to the dark castle where he was born and raised!"

A series of whats and hows raises from the group while Freed and Wendy bump fists. Seeing the indignant expression on the rest of the players' faces, Wendy merely shrugs. "It was on his character background sheet", she explains and leaves the group to deal with the betrayal.

4. A man who's had too much spirit.

"Justine, marry me", Hibiki Lates sobs into Freed's shoulder as Laxus watches in amusement. His boyfriend is looking mildly annoyed at the overly intoxicated man, but there's a hint of fondness in the set of his lips.

"Now why would I do that?" he asks with a sigh and Hibiki immediately straightens his back before putting a USB-stick into Freed's hand.

"There's a powerpoint on there", he explains before starting to list his good qualities. "I'll start with the main reason why you should marry me: I'm really, really cute."

"That's what you're going with? Not our 1 week relationship when we were both fifteen?"

"No, because we broke up you dumbass", Hibiki says before headbutting Freed harder than probably intended. "You're not good at providing comfort, I'm gonna look for someone else", he mopes before stalking off. Before disappearing from view completely, he turns around to yell at Freed. "This is why our teenage romance didn't last!" Both of them end up snorting and laughing about it.

5. A man who's lost his spirit.

To say he's nervous is a serious understatement. Laxus has been planning this proposal for months now, has lost a significant amount of sleep over it and will probably cry if even the littlest of details goes wrong. He's stressed beyond belief.

For now, everything seems to be moving in the right direction. His reservation at the expensive seaside restaurant hasn't magically been cancelled and the clothes he'd set aside for today still fit nicely. Freed has also been going along with Laxus' plans without demanding to know what they're doing. Seemingly sensing Laxus nervousity, he simply follows wherever Laxus directs him to be.

The first thing that nearly goes wrong, is transportation and Laxus really has no idea how that even happened. He planned this whole thing while giving his own weaknesses no thought. As the carriage had pulled up, Freed had commented how nice it looked before giving Laxus a teasing smile, while telling him how good it was that that carriage wasn't for them, as Laxus would've puked all over it.

Immediatle, he blanches and Freed, bless his heart picks up on it. He waves the carriage off, which isn't a problem since Laxus already paid for it and then sets up some transportation runes. "Just imagine the place where we need to be and we'll be taken there", he instructs Laxus.

The seaside view is luckily just as gorgeous as in the pictures and Laxus feels the repeated crashing of the waves soothing his mind. Maybe it would go alright after all. The two of them settle in their chairs and look at the menu, commenting on some of the stranger recipes. Swiftly Laxus decides what he wants to eat and puts the menu down to ask Freed for his choice.

It's then that he catches Freed drumming his fingers on the table while biting his lip. He's also tapping his feet, so Laxus knows that he's essentially screwed. "Is there something wrong?" he asks, nervousity returning in full swing.

"Ah...It's just a little something that hasn't really been brought up." Catching Laxus' questioning gaze, Freed winces a little bit. "I'm allergic to seafood. Deathly allergic actually", he admits sheepishly and Laxus wants to dig a hole in the ground and take a nap in it. "Don't make that face", Freed gently chastises him. "This trip isn't wasted." With a grin, he browses through the menu until he's found what he's looking for. Triumphantly he turns the booklet around to show Laxus the dessert section. "You best believe I am testing out as much of these bad boys as I can. I don't believe they'll put fish in there."

After something that could be counted as some form of a meal, the two of them want to take a walk on the beach. They are however dressed to the nines and after a brief moment of consideration, they come to the conclusion that neither of them wants to clean all the sand out of these clothes, so they let a walk on the sand itself drift from their minds for today. Instead they walk on the pavement until the sun sets.

During their walk, Laxus thinks that now would be a good time to propose. The setting sun is the perfect background and he bets it'd look really romantic if he were to pop out the rings right about now. Right about then, is when he realises he left the rings at home. After vehemently checking each and every one of his pockets, it's clear that a proposal isn't going to happen. To highlight this fact, the wind starts picking up and Laxus knows a gathering storm when he sees one. Defeated, he sits down on the sidewalk.

With more pep than Laxus'll probably feel for the rest of the week, Freed plops down next to him and lays his head on Laxus' shoulder. "My dear, do you want to cry about it?" he asks and honestly, he wants to but they're in public. Crying in front of Freed is one thing, crying in front of a crowd is another thing. "It's good that it's going to rain then", he adds gently before taking his head of Laxus' shoulder and opening his arms. "Get over here sweetheart."

It's a bit embarrassing, sitting there in the now full-on storm and crying while his boyfriend cradles him in his arms. But it feels too good to pass on, so he doesn't let go until he feels somewhat placated.

"My dear Laxus", Freed says softly but still audible over the storm, "You could ask me to marry you in the back of a dumpster and I'd wholeheartedly say yes. But you worked hard on this, didn't you? I'll keep that effort in mind. So ask me another day, when your nerves have calmed down. I just want to tell you now, I love you and I always will."

6. Two spirits, a shared love.

This time around, there are no theatrics or outrageously expensive restaurants. It's a simple breakfast prepared by Laxus, one he knows Freed'll like. After sliding the last egg on a plate, he goes upstairs to try to coax Freed out of bed for the third time this morning. A few languid kisses follow and reluctantly Freed follows, sticking close to Laxus because he is so very warm and comfortable.

"It's time for food, don't use me as your human blanket", Laxus softly admonishes him and Freed grumbles in return. With droopy eyes, Freed starts nibbling on his toast and although Laxus is very used to the sight of his boyfriend in the morning, it still elicits a smile from him.

"Yesterday I spent the day with Bix and he learned me some magic tricks", Laxus says and produces a set of cards out of his pocket. "Wanna see some?"

Vaguely interested, Freed hums and nods. Dutifully he picks out a card when Laxus asks him to and when Laxus asks him if he picked out Freed's card, the man shakes his head drowsily. "That isn't even a card Laxus, that's a box...", he complains quietly, yawning a bit afterwards.

"There is an accompanying card though", Laxus grins as he shoves the little box and the card to Freed side of the table. Predictably, Freed picks up the card first, reading the message and silently forming the words with his mouth.

Immediately the sleepiness seems to evaporate from his system as he quickly opens the box as well, revealing the rune-ingraved ring. Before even answering, he throws his arms around Laxus, planting a big, fat smooch on his lips before peppering a thousand little ones all over his face. "I love you", he gushes before collecting his thoughts a little bit. "And of course I'll marry you." They exchange some more kisses until Freed pulls back with a huge grin. "I'm going to brag to everyone. The guild, the lady at the grocer's, they'll be hearing it for months."

With a gentle tug, Laxus witholds the man from running out of the door in his bathrobe. "If they're going to hear about it for months, then you've got time to finish your breakfast, silly", he says warmly and Freed shoots him a cheeky smile and a wink in return.

[theawkwardterrier]

No Place Like

Steggy Week 2k20, day 5 Prompt: Outside POV

Summary: Miss Carter is a regular at the local diner.

AO3 link here. Thanks to @steggyfanevents​ for organizing!

Ernie thinks he’s been told that he’ll be inheriting the diner since the day he was born, and if it hasn’t been quite that long, it was probably the day after.

For years, the thought was okay with him. When he was little, filling salt shakers and reminding himself to be careful-careful when he got the chance to lift the occasional plate onto a table as tall as he was, it was the only future he could imagine. But now, halfway through being a junior in high school, he sees the sorts of things his classmates are planning, all that they get to do and choose and find out about themselves, and suddenly what he has waiting for him doesn’t seem like enough, even though he knows that it represents two generations of effort and saving and love from his family.

Plus most of his classmates don't have to work the early shift before school starts.

“Thank you for a lovely breakfast,” Miss Carter tells him one morning, thankfully coming over to pay for her meal just in time to rescue him from having to clean up the catsup spill at the corner four-top.

Miss Carter is a regular. He has the feeling that she’s either real busy, or doesn’t have a clue about how to cook, or maybe both - she’s in for either breakfast or dinner more often than not. She’s pretty, polite, always more put together than she needs to be for the job she says she has at the phone company. Sometimes she seems a little sad, gazing into her teacup or sighing to herself without even seeming to realize it, but he’s also seen her confront a kid who’d stolen a tip off one of the tables, looking ready to flip him over her shoulder as she waited for him to put the money down and cough up some extra too.

Ernie likes Miss Carter, but he’d never want to cross her.

“You have a good day, ma’am,” he says, dropping the pair of quarters into the register (and putting her tip into his own pocket). “Hope it’s not too busy for you.”

She laughs. “I’ll hope that for all our sakes. When things become busy for me, it usually indicates more trouble than I think anyone would like.” Picking up her briefcase, she adds, “But as far as I’m aware, it should be quite uneventful: just paperwork on the docket, and then I’ll be back this evening.”

“Enjoy your paperwork, then,” Ernie tries joking shyly. It earns a light laugh, but afterward, as he hangs up his apron and runs water through his hair to get ready for school, he wonders if it was just out of pity.

“Stupid,” he mutters to himself. He never knows what to say around Miss Carter; one of these days he'll learn to keep his mouth shut.

She doesn’t come back for dinner like she said she would. The tables are jam-packed all evening and Ernie’s so run off his feet that he doesn’t even notice.

Just before he falls asleep, he does remember what she said and wonder if this means there’s some big problem that she has to take care of, but then he puts it out of his mind, rolling over.

If the world’s ending, maybe he'll at least get a chance to sleep in.

Miss Carter isn’t there for breakfast either, and this time Ernie’s not the only one who notices. His mama and pops have always said that one of the advantages of owning a “community establishment” like theirs is getting to know and care about people and having them feel the same for you. Ernie’s never quite believed in that - people coming up to loudly tell him that his skin is finally clearing has never felt quite like caring to him - but now he understands just a little. When his sister Luella says that she hopes that everything’s fine over with Miss Carter, he agrees with perhaps too much vehemence.

She finally comes back for dinner, and he’s taking in a breath to shout back for a cup of tea (Miss Carter has a regular breakfast order, but she likes a hot drink while she picks something out on the dinner menu) when he notices that she’s not alone.

Miss Carter has come in with a friend every so often in the past, mostly a tall, beaky sort of man with an accent that matches hers, and a brunette lady who acted fancy, sticking out her pinky and all, but tipped real well. A few times it was with a cheerful redhead who had a different sort of accent, one Ernie didn’t recognize, or a handsome, dark-haired man who used a crutch and watched Miss Carter closely. Once she even came in with Howard Stark, the inventor. Ernie recognized him from the papers and almost went over to say hello or ask for an autograph, but he was too familiar with the signs of hangover to try it; he made sure to be extra quick sending coffee to their table instead.

(Mr. Stark has a great mustache up close, though. If Ernie could grow one, that’s the kind he’d want, but at last glance into the side of the toaster he has barely half a dozen struggling hairs on his upper lip.)

This man isn’t someone Ernie recognizes, and he can tell immediately that he’s not just a friend. His hand is wrapped so tightly around Miss Carter’s that Ernie can only think about the two trees out on his granny’s property which have been growing around each other for so many years they finally fused together. When Miss Carter points out her regular booth, there’s a moment where Ernie thinks she isn’t going to even let the man go to sit facing her. Eventually she does, but they lean over the tabletop so that they’re nearly touching, and her gaze on him is so intense, so full of love and pain that Ernie turns to go make Luella take their order instead.

“Uh-uh!” she whispers and swishes over to go top off coffee cups that she'd just refilled five minutes ago.

Ernie stands up straight, taking out his pad like it's armor. As he walks over, he tries to imagine the least awkward way of clearing his throat.

He doesn’t achieve it one bit (it comes out as an “A-HEM,” like Patty Francona’s dad when he found them standing together talking on the porch after their one and only date) but the two of them are too wrapped up to notice.

“What can I get you folks this evening?” he asks, the automatic patter helping steady him.

“I’m not certain yet, Ernie,” Miss Carter says, finally looking up at him, polite as usual, though her voice is soft as heartbreak. “We might need just another moment to get our bearings.”

“Take your time,” Ernie responds, quick with relief, and hightails it back to the counter.

When the two of them finally pick something, it’s a couple orders of franks and spaghetti, which Ernie’s never known Miss Carter to eat. He’s actually not known very many people to pick that off the menu. It’s like they just put a finger down and decided at random. Luella makes a face when Vince, the short order cook, adds the franks on top.

“Hope they enjoy,” she says dubiously as Ernie goes to take the food out front. Miss Carter and her companion have decided that they’d like it to go. As he rings them up, they both offer him tips at the same time. The looks they give each other are so soft and sappy that Ernie ends up practically shoving the bag of food at them before saying rapid and clipped, “You have a very pleasant evening now!”

“Thank you,” says Miss Carter, nearly sing-song. “I believe we shall.”

And she and her companion stride out arm in arm.

They start calling the man ‘Mr. Carter.’ While they might not know his actual name, he’s a regular now which means that they have to call him something.

Beyond his name and where he came from, there’s a lot of speculation as to what exactly happened between him and Miss Carter.

Vince, thoughtfully cleaning the grill, suggests that maybe their families didn’t approve of them being together. “And he had to wait years and years until his parents died, but as soon as they did he raced back up here to see her.”

“No, he probably married another woman,” proposes Jean, the other evening waitress, looking at her reflection in the side of a napkin dispenser to make sure that her hat’s on straight. “Men are fickle like that, you know. Forget a girl as soon as their eyes are closed. So she’s just been pining away all these years, waiting for him to realize that they belong together, and he finally got divorced and looked her up. But a man like that, he'll be gone in another blink, that's for certain.”

From her place swinging her legs atop the counter, Luella scoffs, “As if she would ever pine. No, I’ll bet they were just about to get married and then he tripped over a sewer grate and hit his head and lost all of his memories and is only just getting them back.” She sighs. “The first thing he remembered about his old life was probably her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ernie says, giving up on trying to do his homework in the corner of the kitchen and entering the conversation fully. “You might as well say he was MIA from the war and finally came home, that’d be just as realistic.”

“The war was years ago,” Luella says, waving an irritated hand. “If someone suddenly came home now, it’d be a miracle. We’d have heard about it.”

Just to needle her, Ernie says, “Not if they’re spies. They’re probably both government agents and all their business has to be kept completely top secret!”

She just shakes her head, looking put upon, as if just entertaining his notions ages her ten years. “I have no idea where you come up with these things,” she says, and huffs out of the kitchen.

Whatever happened, Mr. and Miss Carter sure do look happy together. They come in for breakfast together more often than not, and dinner several nights a week too - apparently he's no cook either or is just as short on time.

(When Ernie mentions this observation to Vince, he gets a very huffy reminder that some people really do just prefer the food here.)

They laugh a lot across the table, and they're always touching. She'll swat at his shoulder while he gives a mischievous grin. He'll fold a little flower when they've finished with the newspaper and slide it gently behind her ear. They link their little fingers together on the tabletop so often that Ernie, bright red over the top of his notepad, has to pretend not to see it, and eventually he actually stops noticing it altogether.

Mr. Carter sometimes comes in for lunch on his own, but he's not there the Sunday afternoon when the radio starts acting up and people coming in report strange lightning strikes nearby. And Ernie doesn't see him or Miss Carter that evening, either, when there's an earthquake strong enough that the road ripples beneath the cars outside and concrete slides off of the surrounding buildings. In the diner, everyone's food shimmies off the table and splatters all over the floor.

Ernie stands there a minute after the shaking has stopped, staring around at the mess. The building itself is fine, and something in him isn't surprised that the place is still solidly standing.

"Get a move on," Luella urges, practically skating in gravy as she comes to hand him a mop. "All this isn't going to clean itself up!"

The Carters do show up again the next night, listening to the other regulars recounting the shock of what had happened. Considering they've spent the past few weeks practically sharing the same air, it's easy to notice the change between them. They're both perfectly civil to Ernie when he comes over to take their orders and deliver the food, but they speak to each other only occasionally and in undertones that seem taut even from where Ernie is standing.

A while later, he glances into the dining area on the way back to throw out the kitchen trash and notices that they’re no longer at their table. When he opens the outside door, however, he finds where they’ve gone.

“—putting yourself in danger!” Mr. Carter’s voice is low but harsh.

Miss Carter hisses, “As if you can talk,” with so much venom that Ernie almost steps back inside even though it wasn’t directed at him.

“Even if Delacroix had hit me, it wouldn’t have been fatal.” (Mr. Carter should have probably asked for some advice before trying that one, or at least rehearsed so it wouldn’t sound as flimsy.

The alley is dim, but even with the low light Ernie can see how her face twists. “If that’s the metric that we’re using, ‘will this certainly kill me?’ then I don’t—”

“And what about you?!” He hits back defensively. “You knew that Howard had said another minute for the power, and you jumped anyway. If he’d been ten seconds slower—”

“He wasn’t.” She seems to be trying to spit the words with her same vehemence, but it doesn’t quite work. Her arms are tightly crossed over her chest. “And had you been in the same position, you would have made the same decision, Steve, don’t act as if you wouldn’t have.”

“I know,” and with the simple words all the fight seems to go out of him. “I know. I would have. And one of the reasons I love you is that you would make the same choice. But Peggy—” He steps forward, arms held open, and though Ernie thinks he’s nuts for trying it, Miss Carter actually moves toward him too, letting her own arms drop and pressing herself against his chest.

“When I came back, it was because I wanted to get a chance at a life together. A good, long life,” he says, so softly into her hair that Ernie has to strain to hear it. “Which means that we have to, the both of us, take better care to make sure we last that long.”

“I suppose I can prioritize further recruitment of people we trust. With more hands, things might not get quite as...shaky as they did last night.”

Ernie wouldn’t have pegged Miss Carter as a fan of puns, but Mr. Carter just laughs. “I think Jarvis especially would appreciate it. He’s probably going to name his ulcer after us if we keep on like this.”

“You underestimate him,” Miss Carter remarks. “And you underestimate me. I would say I’ve earned the ulcer all on my own. Perhaps I shall grant you the gray hairs, however.”

“Generous of you.”

They’re both laughing together now, turning to come back inside. Ernie hastily hefts the trash bag and steps noisily into the alley.

“Oh!” he says, projecting surprise as hard as he can when he spots them (though the springing eyebrows might be a bit much). “Good evening there.”

“Hullo, Ernie,” says Miss Carter, patting his shoulder as they sail by. “Careful on the stones. Some of them seem to have come a bit loose after last night.”

He watches the way their silhouettes stay framed in the doorway for just a second, little fingers twined together once again, before he shakes his head and turns toward the dumpster.

He’d learned a lot more than he’d expected to tonight: that the Carters weren’t entirely perfect, that Mr. Carter was apparently called Steve, and that Miss Carter, no matter what she said, pretty certainly didn’t just work for the phone company.

Mr. Carter comes in by himself one quiet spring Saturday. (Ernie might know his name now, but in a thousand years, he doesn’t think he could bring himself just to call him by it. The most he might stammer out one day is “Mr. Steve, sir.”) He sits at the counter and asks Ernie for a root beer float, swiveling on the stool a bit and just thinking or drifting as he drinks it down.

“Say, we’ve been asking around,” he says once he’s finished and turned over a full dollar (“Keep the change,” and floats are only sixty cents!). “Do you happen to have old boxes in the back? Maybe crates left over from deliveries that you’re not using anymore?”

Ernie thinks as he takes his four dimes from the register and puts them in his pocket. “Maybe one or two. Do they have to be big?”

“It might make it easier. We’re using them to pack up the apartment, and we have some more stuff than we bargained for,” Mr. Carter explains.

Ernie tips back his hat. “Oh. Did you two get a new place?”

“We did, but not here. We’re moving out of state - Peggy needs to, for her new job. She’s actually at the office now, taking care of some last minute paperwork so the transition goes smoothly.” He’s smiling as he says it, really proud of her, but Ernie’s too distracted to pay much attention.

“I wish I could get out of state,” he says, the words bitterly out before he can stop them. Mr. Carter raises an eyebrow and sits back down on his stool, leaning over the counter.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well.” Ernie shoves his hands into his apron pocket, then rips them out to gesture around. “Look at this place!”

Mr. Carter actually takes him literally, glancing around at the linoleum Ernie’s mama swears she’s going to have replaced soon, the two- and four-tops with the salt and pepper shakers that have been in the diner since the day Ernie’s grandparents opened, the wooden booths which Luella is supposed to polish every week.

(They’re looking a little worn, actually. Maybe Ernie will mention that to his pops, just if it comes up, or if Luella does something annoying.)

“Looks like a pretty nice place to me,” Mr. Carter says, swinging back around. “And I’ve got some good memories from here. So I guess the question is why you don’t.”

Ernie says indignantly, “I do!” before he’s even realized it. His voice pitches up embarrassingly; he brings it down a purposeful octave and says, “I have plenty of good memories, I just don’t know that I want to stay working here forever.” He rubs a hand over his forehead, then rests his elbows on the counter across from Mr. Carter. “And the worst part is, if I had something else I wanted to do instead, my parents would try real hard to help that happen, but I don’t know that I want to do anything else. I just know that I’m not sure I want to do this. And heck, maybe I really do! What if I give up on this place and it turns out that I don’t like whatever else I try?”

Mr. Carter passes a hand over his mouth, considering. “Huh. Well, do you think your parents would let you take a year for yourself? Would they be able to run things without you while you traveled a little, took some classes, worked a couple of jobs, just to see what’s out there?”

“Maybe?” They’ve never talked about anything like that. He’s never even asked, afraid that the answer would be that it’s impossible, the family can’t swing it, can’t make things work without him.

“That’s my advice for now,” Mr. Carter says. “Find out, and if it’s okay with your folks, take a year away, see how you feel. Sometimes you know how you want your life to turn out, and sometimes you need a little time to know, or to realize how much you want something.”

As if he hears something outside, he turns on his stool so he can see through the big front windows. Miss Carter is at the opposite corner walking toward them, glancing quickly back and forth before she crosses to enter the diner.

“The places that are home will still be that when you come back,” says Mr. Carter, turning to look meaningfully at Ernie one last time before he steps over to greet Miss Carter just as she opens the door.

A few years later, Ernie’s running a busy dinner shift. Half the staff is out with a cold, the remaining half can barely keep up with orders while also drying the floor so no one breaks their neck slipping in melting snow, and Ernie’s wondering how it always seems that Luella never has to work on these sorts of nights. It’s why he’d hesitated before agreeing to split managing with his sister when she finishes high school next year. That, and she’s been going on and on about “revolutionizing” the diner with what she’s planning on learning in the business classes she’s going to take at night school. Ernie doesn’t really need a revolution; there’s some charm in the idea that this place doesn’t change much.

The door opens with a gust and Ernie glances over the dining room to see if there’s even a free table. Then he looks back at who it is and decides that he’ll make one if he has to.

The Carters stand there, looking around with smiles on their faces. They’re each holding the hand of what must be a toddler, though it’s hard to tell considering how well-bundled that snowsuit keeps things.

“Welcome back,” Ernie says, trying to be careful not to slip himself as he hurries over to them. “It’s good to see you, Miss Carter, Mr. Carter.”

The words are out before he can stop them and he can feel his face flaming. “I’m sorry,” he manages. “Back then, we didn’t know—It’s just what we all—”

Mr. Carter just laughs. “That’s okay. It’s what I go by officially these days anyway,” and Ernie notices a wedding ring when Mr. Carter puts out his hand to shake.

“I’m glad to see you working tonight, but I’m still wondering: did you get a chance to figure out where home is?” Mr. Carter asks, and Ernie looks around at the linoleum they’ve finally gotten a chance to replace, at the salt and pepper shakers that he filled himself in the late quiet last night, at the booths which Luella keeps proprietarily shiny now that she’s “almost in charge.” He went to plenty of diners during his year away, and many even looked like this one, but none of the others felt like it, at least not to him.

“I did,” Ernie says. “Thank you.” He glances at the wedding ring on Mr. Carter’s hand, at Mrs. Carter, who’s leading the baby over to their old, surprisingly free booth. “I guess you found where home was too.”

Mr. Carter follows his gaze, taking in the scene. “I guess I did,” he says. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. “I guess we all did.”

(And, Ernie decides, Jean can go suck an egg.)

[tw-anchor]

28. Deucalion and the Darach

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x04; Unleashed

Word Count: 8,853

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, talk of sex, blood

Author’s Note: Stiles teams up with Lydia to do some investigating and Olivia has her first real interaction with Deucalion and the alpha pack. Hope you enjoy! Make sure you tell me what you think! Reblog and like!

Story Masterlist in Pinned Post!

"I looked everywhere. It's like he just walked away," Scott told Stiles. "He left his car and his dog."

As soon as Stiles and Scott walked into the boys' locker room to get ready for cross country practice—which was mandatory for lacrosse players, who needed to stay in shape during the fall—Scott had started to tell Stiles about the previous night at work. Apparently, a senior that was on the football team, Kyle, had come in with his little dog. After they left, Scott was taking out the trash when he heard the dog barking. Kyle was nowhere to be found.

Stiles nodded shakily as he slipped on his gray hoodie over his practice uniform. "Okay. Was he, like...could he have been a virgin maybe? Did he look like a virgin? Was he, you know virginal?"

"No, definitely not," Scott pulled on his own sweatshirt, a giddy smile on his face. "Deaton makes me have sex with all of his clients. It's a new policy."

Normally, Stiles would have laughed at Scott's joke because they were few and far between. This wasn't a normal situation, though. He might not be a virgin but the love of his life, his girlfriend, was. There were already three virgins dead, so if Kyle was a virgin, too, the rest of them in Beacon High were screwed—and not in a good way.

Scott sighed when he saw the blank look Stiles was giving him. "No, I don't know if he was a virgin," he told his best friend. "And why are you talking like he's already dead? He's just missing."

"Missing and presumed dead because he's probably a virgin, Scott," Stiles didn't know how much simpler his explanation could get. "You know who else is a virgin? My girlfriend, all right? Her lack of sexual experience is now literally a threat to her life. And you know who keeps putting sex off? Me because I'm an idiot who wants her first time to be special."

The locker a few down from them was slammed shut by Danny. He turned to face them, stating, "I know a guy who would—"

"Don't be a dick, Danny," Stiles stopped him before he could finish his statement.

No one was going to have sex with Olivia but him, thank you very much.

As Danny shrugged and walked off to talk to one of his friends on the team, Scott raised an eyebrow at Stiles. "Have you told Liv that, you know...you're not a—"

"No, I haven't," Stiles huffed, frustrated with himself. "And I'm a total hypocrite because I told her that we shouldn't lie to each other but I—I don't know how to bring it up."

"You don't have to tell her."

"Yeah," Stiles shook his head at Scott's suggestion. "I do."

"Mr. Lahey!" Coach called as Isaac scurried into the locker room fifteen minutes late. "Happy to have you back. Not happy that you're late."

"Sorry, Coach," Isaac mumbled as he went to his locker, only a few away from Stiles and Scott; they both nodded at him in greeting.

Coach shook his head and addressed the boys' team. "I'll remind you all, cross-country is not optional for lacrosse players. I don't need you turning into a bunch of fat-asses in the off-season," he paused as Isaac and Danny took off their shirts, both of them fit. "So work on that."

Five minutes later, Stiles, Scott, Isaac, and the other members of the team were lining up outside of the mini cross-country trail behind the school. Stiles and Scott settled at the back of the group and waited for Coach to blow his whistle, allowing them to start running.

Coach blew his whistle and everyone took off. "Pace yourselves! Come on!"

Stiles started jogging beside Scott but both of them stopped by Isaac, who hadn't started running and was still on one knee where he had been tying his shoe. Just as he was about to start sprinting, Scott grabbed his shoulder. "Isaac!"

Isaac turned to face them, an angry look on his face. "It's them."

Before Stiles could even ask who 'they' were, Isaac ripped himself away from Scott and took off.

"Isaac, wait!"

Stiles shrugged and started jogging, watching as Scott started running after Isaac. He settled into pace, grateful that he had always been a natural runner, and soon overtook some of his teammates. Soon, he fell in pace with one of his classmates.

Riley was trying cross-country out for some type of extra-curricular besides student government but she wasn't used to running a mile or more at a time. She was asthmatic, her inhaler clutched tightly in her hand, and she usually took an aerobics class every Saturday. Yes, she told him all of that while he ran beside her, voice breathless because of her light wheezing.

Eventually, she started slowing down.

"I need to take a break," she wheezed as she veered off the path, pressing her inhaler to her mouth.

Stiles didn't feel right just leaving her to work through her asthma attack—or rather, the start of one—so he stopped with her. It looked like her asthma was stronger than Scott's had been; her face was stark white as she stumbled toward a tree to sit against until she felt better.

Stiles followed her and stood still when he saw the body tied against the tree in front of them. Like the others, it looked as though the guy had been strangled, had his throat slit, and his head bashed in. Another three-fold death, another sacrifice.

Riley saw the body and only took a second to let out a high-pitched scream. Within minutes, the rest of the team was gathered around the body and the police were called. Stiles barely looked away from the body as Scott and Isaac ran up to his side.

Stiles looked away from the body to glance at Scott. "It's him, isn't it?"

Scott, who was looking at the body in horror, nodded slightly.

The body was Kyle, the guy who went missing from the animal clinic the night before.

-

"Hey, get out of the way. Get back," Noah burst through the teenagers forming a circle around Kyle's body, Deputy Tara right on his heels. He got to the tree where Stiles was hovering, trying to get a better look at Kyle's injuries, and turned back to Tara. "Get this area cordoned off before they trample every piece of evidence."

Deputy Tara immediately got to work. "Back up!" she raised her voice to get everyone's attention. "Everyone back!"

Noah gently pushed Stiles away from the body. "Get these kids out of here!"

Stiles slapped away his father's hand and stepped back toward the body. "Dad, look. It's the same as the others, you see?"

Noah looked at him firmly yet calmly. "Yeah, I see that. Do me a favor and go back to school, yeah?" he turned way to address Coach. "Coach, can you give us a hand here?"

"You heard the man," Coach called out to his students. "Nothing to see here. It's probably just some homeless kid."

Stiles stared at him in disbelief while Scott sighed, "Coach."

Coach turned to him. "Yeah?"

"He was a senior."

"Oh," Coach sighed sadly, holding his fish against his mouth. "He wasn't on the team, was he?"

Stiles rolled his eyes just as Kyle's girlfriend, Ashley, came sprinting up to the tree, already crying. She took one look at the body and screamed in grief, a heartbreaking look on her face as sobs broke through her chest. Deputy Tara grabbed her before she could get to Kyle's body and held her tightly as she broke down into hysterics.

Noah pushed against his chest, quietly urging him, Scott, and Isaac to get back to the school. The three of them walked away solemnly, all of them feeling bad for Kyle and Ashley.

"You see the way the twins looked at him?" Isaac asked as they left the group surrounding Kyle's body.

Stiles remembered the look that the alpha twins had given the body and it seemed more like shock than anything else. "Yeah, you mean like they had no idea what happened?"

"No," Isaac said determinedly. "No, they knew."

"The kid was strangled with a garrote, all right?" Stiles spoke with exasperation. "Am I the only one recognizing the lack of 'werewolfitude' in these murders?"

As they came to stop only twenty or so feet away from the crime scene, Isaac faced Stiles with a look of disbelief. "Oh, you think it's a coincidence they turn up and then people start dying?"

"Well, no, but I still don't think it's them."

Both of them turned to Scott, who had been way too quiet for their tastes. "Scott?" Isaac grabbed his attention. "How about you?"

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest expectantly, waiting for Scott to be on his side, only for him to be disappointed.

"I don't know yet."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "You don't know yet?"

Scott shrugged and nodded toward Isaac. "Well, he's got a point. Seriously, dude, human sacrifices?"

Now Stiles knew what betrayal really felt like. How could Scott—his very best friend, his brother—agree with Isaac over him? His theory was so sound yet he choice to agree with Isaac, when he had only known him for what, six months? He and Stiles had been friends for a decade.

"Scott, your eyes turned into yellow glow sticks, okay?" he was more than a little huffy. "Hair literally grows from your cheeks and then will immediately disappear, and if I were stab you right now, it would just magically heal but you're telling me that you're having trouble grasping human sacrifices?!"

"That's a good point, too," Scott sighed, looking at Isaac; Stiles nodded in satisfaction.

"I don't care," Isaac stated firmly. "They killed that kid, they killed the girl that saved me. I'm gonna kill them, too."

-

-

Ollie: How's Cora doing?

Derek: She's still healing

Olivia raised her eyebrows in surprise, only glancing away from her phone for a second to see if Mr. Harris had turned away from the board; he hadn't.

Ollie: She's actually staying still?

Cora had always been an active child. When they were little, she couldn't count the amount of times Cora asked her to play tag, hide the flag, or go on runs. She had always exhausted Olivia, who wasn't the type to just run around for fun.

Derek: I didn't say that

Olivia huffed silently in amusement and slid her phone back into her leather satchel to turn her attention back to Harris' lecture—of which she had already knew.

"All right," Mr. Harris finished writing on the board and turned to face the class. "since inertia is a subject of which you all know plenty, why don't we start with momentum?"

"Isaac," Scott whispered from behind her and Isaac, who was sitting next to her. For some reason, Stiles was mysteriously missing from his seat beside him. "they're here for a reason. Give me a chance to figure it out before you do anything, okay?"

Apparently the boys had quite the cross-country practice that morning. Stiles and some girl on his team had found a senior's dead body and from the quick explanation that Stiles gave her before he went running off, he had been killed by a three-fold death. Another sacrifice; she wasn't going to lie, it scared the shit out of her.

Olivia glanced at Isaac to see if he was going to agree with Scott but jumped when Mr. Harris got her attention.

"Olivia," she looked over at him to see that he was starting at her expectantly. "what do we know about momentum?"

"It's a product of mass and velocity," Olivia answered easily; this was her thing, after all. "The more massive something is, the faster it's going—"

"Mr. Harris," Isaac interrupted her in order to get the teacher's attention. "can I use the bathroom, please?"

Olivia gave him a half-irritated and half-curious look. Why did he need to go to the bathroom so urgently? She quickly figured it out; he wanted to go after the alpha twins.

Mr. Harris sighed and gestured toward the door. Isaac quickly got to his feet and walked out of the classroom.

Scott rose from his own seat. "I have to go to the bathroom too."

"One at a time," Mr. Harris reminded him of the school-wide rule. The rule was supposed to cut down on hook-ups and smoking or whatever it was that students did while skipping class but she didn't know if it actually worked. The only time she had skipped class was when Stiles was trying to teach Scott control.

"But I really have to go," Scott said urgently as Olivia grimaced, nervous about what Isaac was going to do. "Like, medical emergency have-to-go."

Mr. Harris stiffened and Olivia just knew that he was going to rant. She was right.

"Mr. McCall, if your bladder suddenly exploded and urine began to pour from every orifice, I would still respond with one at a time," despite Mr. Harris' irritation, he kept his voice calm. "Is that enough hyperbole for you or would you like me to come up with something more vivid?"

"No," Scott quickly sat in his seat. "That's pretty good."

All of a sudden, everyone in the classroom heard a huge bang come from the lockers on the other side of the wall. Mr. Harris made his way over to the door and the rest of the class followed him. Olivia and Scott stuck together as they pushed past their classmates in order to see what was going on.

Isaac stood in the middle of the hallway with one of the alpha twins at his feet, beaten up and bloody. Olivia's attention was immediately captured by the other twin, who was casually turning into another hallway; she quickly nudged Scott and nodded at him and his face lit up in realization. It was clear—to them, at least—that Isaac hadn't done anything to the twin at his feet. No, the alphas were trying to get Isaac into trouble.

And it worked.

"Isaac, what the hell did you do?" Mr. Harris asked him angrily. Before Isaac even had a chance to explain, he added, "You'll be seeing me at lunch detention."

They all went back to class and before long, they were at break. Olivia and Scott escorted Isaac out of the room, Olivia holding onto his arm tightly so that he wouldn't lose control.

"Don't let it bother you. It's just lunchtime detention," Scott said as they came to a stop by Isaac's locker. "If all they want right now is to piss you off, then don't give in. They're just trying to get to you."

Isaac paused, his eyes down the hallway. "It's not just me."

Olivia and Scott followed his gaze and saw that one of the twins—the one who hadn't got beaten up—was chatting up Lydia. They watched as he smiled flirtatiously at her until she closed her locker and leaned against it before playfully patting his chest.

Olivia pressed her lips together, displeased. Lydia was her own person and everything but Olivia didn't want her cousin fooling around with someone as dangerous as an alpha who could conjoin bodies with his brother and had a hand in killing Erica.

"Now they're getting to you," Isaac commented to Scott.

Olivia stormed away from Scott and Isaac and made her way down the hall to where Lydia and the alpha were still talking.

"Lydia," she took her cousin's attention away from the twin. "we need to talk."

"We were kind of in the middle of something," the alpha douche objected as Lydia nodded at her.

"Were you?" she asked sarcastically.

"Aiden, here, was offering to help me study," Lydia raised an eyebrow at Olivia, as if to say 'get a load of this guy'.

"Really?" Olivia looked back to Aiden. "You have an IQ higher than 170?" when Aiden faltered, she continued, "No? Didn't think so. Scram."

Aiden narrowed his eyes at her and even though he could rip her apart and it did kind of freak her out, she raised her chin, meeting his gaze head-on. She wasn't going to back down.

"I'll see you later, Aiden," Lydia dismissed him.

Aiden huffed and sent Olivia one last glare before walking away.

Lydia turned to Olivia once he had walked out of the hallway. "What was that about?"

"Lydia, he's one of the alphas," she told her cousin, watching as realization dawned on her face. "Yeah."

"The one that can conjoin...?"

"Yep."

"Shit," Lydia sighed in disappointment. "but he's so hot."

Olivia didn't agree but she and Lydia had always had different taste in guys.

"Sorry—"

Olivia instantly cut herself off as a tingling sensation started in her belly and a flash of Derek's loft came and went quickly as her head and ears started to ache from the intent voices spinning through her mind.

Derek, Derek, Derek. He's in trouble. He's going to die. Derek, Derek, Derek.

She gasped sharply as she came back to reality, noticing that Lydia was giving her a worried look.

"Liv, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Olivia answered distractedly. "I have to go to Derek's."

Lydia furrowed her eyebrows. "What? It's not even lunch yet."

"Yeah, I know," her vision was flashing between normal and purple; she had to get out of there. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later."

She turned away from Lydia and marched out of the school, ignoring the surprised looks that Scott and Isaac were giving her. She quickly got into her car and set to Derek's loft. He was in trouble and if she had to guess, it was the alpha pack who was responsible.

-

-

Stiles peered over the windowsill that allowed him to look into the main office. He could clearly see his dad and Deputy Tara asking Kyle's girlfriend, Ashley, if she knew anything that could help them investigate his death. He waited, trying to listen and gain as much information about Kyle's death as he could—the walls weren't good at keeping out voices, which was a concern for the school—and there were some things he found helpful.

But he still needed to know if Kyle was a virgin.

He waited until Tara had Ashley wait outside of the office while she conferred with Noah to go up to Ashley and speak to her.

"Um, hi, Ashley," he greeted her hesitantly, reminding himself to have tact; she looked at him unsurely. "Can I talk to you for just one sec?"

After she nodded silently, he gently moved her so his dad nor Tara could hear what he was going to ask her. He was going to Hell for it, he didn't need to get into trouble with his dad, too.

"I just need to ask you something really quick and it's gonna sound really unbelievably insensitive, so I apologize in advance," he cringed and took a deep breath. "Um, was Kyle a virgin?"

Ashley jerked her head a little, surprised. "What?"

"Your boyfriend," Stiles said patiently. "was he a virgin or did you guys, you know, have sex—"

Stiles was cut off by a harsh slap in the face. His head turned to the side, he blinked in shock while his left cheek stung from the force of Ashley's slap.

Yeah, I deserved that, he thought to himself.

He looked back at Ashley, about to serve her an apology, but she was being whisked away by Deputy Tara, who was giving him a look of disapproval. They were only a few feet away from him when Ashely turned back to him.

"No, he wasn't a virgin."

Her answer had his mind racing. There were only three virgin sacrifices then, which made everything all the more confusing. Then again, the number three did have a bunch of meanings, especially for ancient civilizations. Maybe that could be something to go on...

"Have you completely lost your mind?" his dad's voice brought him out of his head. Stiles took one look at his father's angry expression and bowed his head, scratching his nose unsurely. "I've got four murders, Stiles. You see those men in there? That's the FBI. They're pulling together a task force to help because it looks like we've got a full-blown serial killer on our hands. You get that?"

Stiles pressed his lips together, trying not to get angry in response. "Yes, Dad, I get that."

"Then what are you doing?"

He hesitated for a moment. "I'm trying to find a pattern."

And right now, all he had were three virgins and Kyle to go on.

His dad wasn't pleased with his answer but he didn't yell at him again, either, so that was a plus. With another disappointed look—which Stiles was more than used to by now—Noah was on his way and Stiles had to get back to school. Thankfully, the juniors were on lunch break so he had time to visit Kyle's locker, where a memorial of sorts was set up for him.

Kyle's locker was covered in brown paper so that his friends and classmates could write messages to him and put up any pictures they might have had with him. He read through the messages, each one of them a memory of the person of Kyle. Though Stiles knew Kyle because he was an athlete and they went to the same school fundraisers and stuff but he hadn't known him very well. He seemed like a cool guy and the memories on his locker supported that.

Stiles stepped back from the locker as Boyd came over and clipped a blue card with the ROTC emblem on it to the brown paper.

"Hey, Boyd," Stiles nodded at him in surprise. "I didn't know you were back at school."

Olivia didn't tell him anything about it. She had said that Cora, her cousin who came back from the dead—which was really confusing, by the way—was still healing but nothing about Boyd.

"Yeah, I would have told you but we're not actually friends," Boyd stated.

Ouch.

"Oh, yeah," Stiles blinked awkwardly and hurried to move on. "Hey, so did you, uh—so did you know Kyle?"

"Yeah," Boyd nodded, looking back at Kyle's locker with a solemn look on his face. "we were in Junior ROTC together."

"So, you two were friends, then?"

"I only had one friend. She's dead too."

Boyd quickly walked off after that, leaving Stiles to look back at Kyle's locker unsurely. He took another minute to study it for any hints that might have led Kyle to his murder before turning to walk away.

While he walked through the hallways to his locker, he pulled out his phone to call Olivia. She didn't answer, even after three calls. It concerned him, because she should be at lunch just like he was and she usually looked through her phone while eating. She wouldn't just ignore his calls since they had made up and apologized to each other about the fight they had the week before.

He was about to call her a fourth time when he spotted Lydia at her locker, down the hall from his. He quickly made his way over to her, ignoring the annoyed look she shot him when he popped up next to her.

"Hey, have you heard from Olivia?" he asked her while shooting a few texts to his girlfriend.

Sweetcheeks: Hey, where are you?

Sweetcheeks: Why are you ignoring my calls?

Sweetcheeks: Are you okay?

"She went to Derek's," Lydia told him as she grabbed her textbook for her next class. "She had an episode."

"She did?" he asked worriedly. "Did she say what was wrong?"

"Nope."

"And you didn't go after her?"

"Nope."

Stiles scoffed in disbelief. "Why not? You know she's all out of whack when she has her episodes. Aren't you a little worried about what was so wrong with Derek that she had an episode in the first place?"

Lydia shrugged, frowning slightly. "Scott didn't seem worried."

Stiles rolled his eyes and messaged Olivia again.

Sweetcheeks: Do you need me to come to Derek's?

He was in the middle of an investigation but he would drop it for her, especially if she was in any danger.

His phone dinged:

Livvy: Everything's fine. Don't come here.

All right, then, Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

"Okay, I can't talk to Livvy about this but I can talk to you, right?" he addressed Lydia as she closed her locker.

Lydia sighed, like listening to him was the most boring thing she had ever had to do in her life. "I guess."

Stiles didn't pay attention to her attitude. He didn't have Olivia to bounce ideas off at the moment so the next best person who had the same amount of knowledge of him and Olivia was Lydia. She would have to deal with him.

"Okay, so did you know that there's a temple in Calcutta where they used to sacrifice a child every day? That's every day a dead baby, Lydia, every day!" he exclaimed as they walked out of the school and through campus to the building that held the cafeteria. "Hey, you want to know what today is? It's dead baby day. Oh no, wait, that's every day because every day is dead baby day, yay!"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because Livvy's not here and Scott, Isaac, and Allison are dealing with the alpha twins," he answered diligently. "You know about them, right?"

"Yep, Ethan and Aiden," Lydia confirmed almost bitterly. "Liv shared the news this morning."

"Good, good," Stiles nodded and continued with his theory. "So look, here's what I'm thinking. I'm thinking that the murders maybe come in threes. Ancient people love things in threes, right?"

Lydia shrugged lightly.

"So, maybe first it's three virgins and then, I don't know, maybe it's three people who own little dogs."

Lydia stopped in her tracks—Stiles following her lead—and stared at him blankly. "We have a little dog." Stiles grimaced. "We're not getting rid of Sirius."

"Look, I love Siri as much as you and Livvy but if—"

"No," Lydia interrupted him sharply as they started walking again. "And by the way, you can't discern a pattern by a single data point, so stop trying."

Somehow, he knew that Olivia would have said the same thing.

"Okay, so what, I'm just supposed to wait around for someone else to die then?" Stiles asked, growing a little irritated. "I'm just supposed to sit there and watch them die? Just wait for them to wither up and die right in front of me?"

Lydia paused again, giving him a strange look. "Wither?"

Wither might have been the wrong word, he admitted to himself.

"You know what I mean," he snapped and gestured wildly as he continued, "Die in just a hideously awful, strangulating, head-bashing, throat-cutting kind of way."

Lydia grimaced and looked away, making him feel bad because he knew that she had seen Heath's body the same way as he did.

"Maybe it's not your job," Lydia said after a few seconds. "They were strangled with a garrote and we both agreed that it was something a human would do, so...Maybe you should just leave the figuring out part to someone human."

"You mean someone like my dad?"

"No, I mean your dad," Lydia emphasized, rolling her eyes as she began to walk away from him. "The sheriff!"

-

When Olivia received the warning that Derek was in trouble, she expected that something was wrong and that it had to do with the alpha pack. What she didn't expect, however, was that the alpha pack—other than Ethan and Aiden—would be gathered in the loft and that the female alpha would have Derek pinned to his hands and knees on the floor, a metal pipe impaled through his stomach.

She had been taken aback by just how serious the situation was. Maybe she should have asked Scott and Isaac to come with her. Maybe she shouldn't have told Stiles that everything was okay.

All eyes went to her as she frantically pushed the metal door open and stepped into the loft. Other than the twins and the brief glimpses from Isaac's memories, she hadn't seen the other alphas that made up the alpha pack. There were three of them in Derek's loft; the female who was hovering over Derek, who looked like she could be feral and in need of a desperate pedicure to take care of her clawed toenails; a massive guy who was standing behind Cora to make sure she wouldn't move, his head bald and his muscles massive; and a guy who sat in front of Derek that she figured was Deucalion due to his seeking cane and dark glasses.

Her skin crawled from their attention; the female smirked viciously and the huge guy eyed her with cruel eyes.

"Ah, Olivia, right on time," Deucalion greeted her casually, causing her eyes to widen in fear.

"Ollie—" Derek grunted, unable to speak because the female alpha twisted the metal pipe in his stomach.

"Ollie, get out of here," Cora urged, glancing from her to Deucalion.

"Oh, no, she should stay, I insist," Deucalion stated. "Ennis..."

The big one, which was now known as Ennis, made his way toward her. Olivia didn't dare move, listening to the voices in her head that warned her that fleeing would be a bad choice. Ennis roughly took one of her arms and shoved the door closed with the other, before dragging her over to stand next to Cora, where he could watch over the both of them to make sure they wouldn't make any moves against him or his packmates.

Finally, Olivia found her voice, her eyes stinging as her eyes locked on her cousin's form. "You're killing him."

The female turned to her with a smirk and shook one of her clawed fingers at her. "Not yet, little Anchor, but I could," Olivia paled when she turned back to Derek and nudged and twisted the pipe. "Who knows if it's five minutes or five hours before it's too late to take this thing out. But, just to be on the safe side, Duke, you might want to get to the point."

"Now that Olivia's here, I can," Deucalion rubbed his hands together and addressed Derek, continuing their earlier conversation that Olivia wasn't privy to. "You see the problem with being in an alpha pack. Everybody wants to make the decisions. Me? I'm more about discovering new talents. Like your cousin over there," Olivia winced in fear and when Cora took her hand, she squeezed it tightly. "And you."

Derek coughed and blood splattered on the floor beneath him. "Not interested."

"But you haven't even heard my pitch."

"You want me to..." Derek was panting, in too much pain to speak quickly or all at once. "kill my own pack."

Olivia's eyes widened. We're screwed.

She had known that the alpha pack were after Derek as she had been privy to that knowledge since the beginning of summer but this situation was much, much worse than she thought. They wanted Derek to kill his pack—which sucked for her, Isaac, Boyd, and now Cora—and for some reason, they wanted her, too.

And all she could come up with for a reason for that was that she was an anchor.

"No, I want you to kill one of them," Deucalion told Derek. "Do that and I won't have to ask you to kill the others. You'll do it on your own. I did it. Ennis did. Kali did," Olivia guessed that was the female and she was proved correct when Deucalion nodded at her. "Tell him what it's like, Kali, to kill one of your own."

Olivia and Cora shared a horrified look as Kali answered him, "Mm," she hummed. "liberating."

"Listen to me, Derek," Deucalion drawled in his British accent. "Do you really want to stay beholden to a couple of maladjusted teenagers bound to become a liability? And believe me, they will become a liability. In fact, I have a feeling one of them is getting himself into trouble right now. Just ask dear Olivia."

For a moment, Olivia had no idea what he was talking about. Then, her gaze went purple and her mind flitted away from reality. The part of her brain—or soul, or whatever, that kept track of her pack—told her that Isaac was losing control. She didn't know why and she didn't know where, but she knew that he was having trouble.

"Isaac."

She didn't know that she had spoken her friend's name but Deucalion, Kali, and Ennis stared at her intently as she went through another episode, like the one that had led her to Derek's loft. Cora squeezed her hand, trying to get her attention—she hadn't seen Olivia like this yet—but it was no use.

Olivia's mind was split as she heard herself mentally call for Allison. She was in danger and Isaac...Isaac was with her—No, Isaac was the one who hurt her. He didn't mean it, but he was out of control for some reason.

Isaac, Allison, Isaac, Allison...

Come on, Isaac, she mentally pleaded to him. You're in control. I'm here with you and you're in control. Just hang on. Come on, come on...

Olivia came to when she felt a familiar voice rock its way through her head and Isaac took control of himself. Her wrist tingled from Allison's injury but she knew that her friend would be okay. So would Isaac.

"Fascinating," Deucalion said while she noticed that he, Kali, Ennis, and Cora were staring at her; she blinked and the purple in her vision went away. "See, the reason I'm always interested in new talent is simple," he stood up and folded his cane, his head still facing Olivia, though she knew he was addressing Derek again. "The stronger the individual parts, the greater the whole."

He unfolded his cane again, letting it snap back into place. "When I lost my sight, one of my betas assumed I wasn't fit for my role anymore. He tried to take it from me," he folded the cane again; Olivia guessed he was fiddling with it for symbolism, though she was pretty sure that her, Derek, and Cora could understand perfectly fine. "Killing him taught me something about alphas I didn't know they could do. His power was added to mine. I became stronger, faster, more powerful than I'd ever been."

Olivia shivered but tried to stomp her fear down. Although she knew that the alphas could probably smell it on her, she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of letting it show on her face of with her body language.

"I tested this new ability to subsume the power of your own by killing another one," he continued as he folded another part of his cane. "In fact, Derek, I killed them all," he folded the cane again. "I took the individual parts and became a greater individual whole."

Deucalion shook out his cane, making it snap together once again. He kneeled in front of Derek, who was getting weaker and weaker—Olivia was hearing more of his name than what Deucalion was saying at that point—and grabbed his head, pulling it up so he could feel Derek's facial features.

"You're right, Kali. He looks like his mother," he commented as he stood up again, slowly walking over to the table in front of the wall of windows. "You'll get to know me, Derek, like she did."

More blood dripped out of Derek's mouth as he spoke, "I know you. I know what you are," he grunted breathlessly. "You're a fanatic."

And psycho, Olivia added in her head.

Deucalion set his cane on the table and turned so he was facing Derek and the others again. "Know me?" he repeated slowly, his voice hard. "You've never seen anything like me."

Thunder started to rumble as he raised his voice. "I am the alphas of alphas," lightning flashed somewhere outside the building. "I am the apex of apex predators! I am death, destroyer of worlds! I AM THE DEMON WOLF!"

Olivia winced in pain and stepped backward with Cora, both of them hiding behind a pillar from the fear that Deucalion's words and alpha voice had stirred in them. Even though she wasn't a werewolf, her entire being told her that she needed to obey and cower from the alpha in front of them. His display of power and ambiance struck such a fear in her that she had never felt before.

She hid her face in Cora's shoulder and only looked up when the lightning and thunder stopped. Deucalion's glasses had cracked and when he took them off, his eyes were crimson red. His voice and demeanor had softened into a casual tone that only psychopaths could manage after such strong words he had given only a second before, "I hate when that happens."

Kali ripped the metal pipe from Derek's body and smirked when he started to fall to the floor, the puddle of his own blood soaking his skin and clothing. Ennis stepped away from behind Olivia and Cora and followed behind Kali as she grabbed Deucalion's arm and led him out of the loft.

When the metal door slid shut behind them, both Olivia and Cora rushed to Derek where he was laying on the floor. Tears stung Olivia's eyes as they coaxed him into a sitting a position, both of them sighing in relief when they saw that his wound was already healing.

Olivia glanced at the door once more; they were in deep trouble.

-

-

Having no idea what was going on across town in Derek's loft, Stiles had skipped class in order to speak to someone who he thought would know what was going on with all of the murders.

He parked in place outside of the animal clinic, glad that no one seemed to be there but Deaton, and entered the building. Deaton, dressed casually in a t-shirt and no coat—Stiles guessed he was at lunch—walked out behind the front to see how it was that had the dogs in the back barking like crazy.

Deaton gave him a surprised look. "You're out of school early."

"Yeah, free period, actually," Stiles lied. "Um, I was just headed home to see my dad. He's, uh—you know, I guess you probably heard people are kind of getting murdered again. It's his job to figure it out."

"I gathered as much from the sheriff title," Deaton stated sarcastically, though the tone kind of fell flat. It was a good thing that Stiles was fluent in sarcasm.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You know, but it gets kind of hard for him to do his job when he doesn't have all the information. And we all know he's missing pretty much half of the story here, right?

Yeah, um... You know, but it gets kind of hard for him to do his job when he doesn't have all the information. And we all know he's missing pretty much half the story here, right? So—so, then I started thinking and I remembered someone who does have a lot of information."

He saw Deaton shift uncomfortably and figured he was in the right place.

"Someone who always seems to know more than anyone else around here," he finished, giving the veterinarian a pointed look. "You."

Deaton pressed his lips together and nodded toward the back of the building where his exam room was. "Let's talk back here."

When Deaton opened the wooden gate to let him back, Stiles quickly walked through and shut it behind him, knowing that it was important to the man that the mountain ash barrier was always complete in order to protect him from wandering werewolves and the like.

"All these symbols and things, the triskeles, the bank logo, the mountain ash," he started speaking rapidly, hoping to get answers right away. "all of it is from the Celtic druids and anyone who has ever looked up human sacrifice before knows that the druids had a pretty big hard-on when it came to giving one up to the gods. You ever hear of the Lindow Man?"

Deaton just stared at him and Stiles knew that the veterinarian was intelligent and probably knew of the story but he told the gist of it anyway.

"He was a two-thousand-year-old body found in England. He was found strangled, head bashed in, throat cut—a threefold death," Stiles stated firmly. "They also found pollen grains in his stomach. Guess what favorite druid plant that was?"

Deaton picked a jar out of the box on the steel table they were standing around and pulled a sprig from it to show to Stiles. "Mistletoe."

Stiles stared at the plant for a few seconds before he looked back up to Deaton's face. "I'm just telling you everything you already know, aren't I?" Deaton didn't say anything, which was an answer in of itself. "Then why aren't you telling us?"

Deaton put the jar of mistletoe back in the box and looked at him, ashamed. "Maybe because when you've spent every moment of the last ten years trying to push something away—denying it, lying about it—it becomes a pretty powerful habit."

Stiles softened only a little. "All right, so this guy—is he a druid?"

"No," Deaton shook his head. "It's someone copying a centuries-old practice of a people who should have known better. Do you know what the word druid means in Gaelic?"

"No."

"It means wise oak," Deaton informed him. "The Celtic druids were close to nature. They believed they kept it in balance. They were philosophers and scholars. They weren't serial killers."

"Yeah, well this one is," Stiles scoffed lightly, only to pause when his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket. He answered it, seeing that it was Lydia who was calling. "Hey, I can't talk right now."

"Well, Olivia isn't answering my calls, so you're my best bet," Lydia rushed, her voice panicked. "Look, I'm in the band room and the teacher is missing."

"Wait, what?" Stiles blinked in shock. "He's missing."

"That's what I said!"

"Are you sure?"

"Actually, I'm not sure he's missing," Lydia corrected herself, exhaling deeply. "I think he was taken. Like Heath and the Kyle guy were."

Stiles pressed his lips together and looked over at Deaton, who was patiently waiting to hear about what was going on. "I'll be right there and I'm bringing Deaton with."

Twenty minutes later, after several calls to Olivia—who still wasn't answering, which was a whole other panic-inducing situation—and sneaking Deaton into the school without a visitor's pass, the two of them, plus Lydia, were searching through the band room to find anything that could tell them where the band teacher had gone. It wasn't a question of if he simply didn't make it to class, the bloody handprint on the piano gave them enough evidence to the contrary.

While Deaton listened to a recording on the teacher's phone, Stiles searched through his desk. The creepy voices coming from the speakers creeped Stiles the fuck out but he kept himself busy by going through the teacher's stuff.

"Can we get a copy of this?" Deaton asked Lydia, who stood by his side.

Lydia took the phone ands started to transfer the recording to herself so she could pass it onto Deaton.

Stiles opened the top drawer in the desk, finding nothing so far. "Hey, Doc, any held would be, you know, helpful."

"Each grouping of three would have its own purpose, its own type of power," Deaton spoke thoughtfully. "Virgins, healers, philosophers, warriors—"

A lightbulb went off in Stiles' head as he laid his eyes on the photograph on the teacher's desk. It was from his wedding, where he stood next to his gown-clad wife in his military uniform.

"Wait, wait, wait," he cut Deaton off as he picked up the picture, his mind still racing. "Warrior, could that also be like a soldier?"

Deaton nodded. "Absolutely."

Stiles showed him and Lydia the photo and added, "Kyle was in the ROTC with Boyd."

"That's got to be it. That's the pattern," Deaton declared. "Where's Boyd?"

Stiles grabbed his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time as he started to call Boyd. "He's probably home by now. I'm gonna try to get him on the phone."

He pressed the phone to his ear as Deaton looked over at Lydia, who was stiff and looking ahead of her thoughtfully. "Lydia, is something wrong?"

Lydia shook her head. "No, it was, uh," she grimaced. "I mean, I just thought of someone else with a military connection."

Stiles dropped his phone from his ear, ending the call before Boyd even answered. "Who?"

"Mr. Harris."

Stiles sighed in realization; why was their dick of a science teacher involved in every supernatural drama that ever came up in Beacon Hills? "He went to West Point. He has the honor code on his desk and everything."

Lydia bit her lip. "We should go see if he's in his classroom."

He wasn't. The classroom was empty by the time Stiles, Lydia, and Deaton entered, and Mr. Harris wasn't to be found. On his desk were many ungraded tests, though some of them had letters written in red at the top, and his briefcase was on the floor next to the desk.

Deaton looked around the room cautiously. "This is just one of many possibilities," he muttered as he came to the desk where he and Lydia were looking around. "He could have simply left for the day."

"Yeah, well, not without this," Stiles grabbed Harris' briefcase and held it up for Deaton to see.

As he set the briefcase back down, something caught his eye. One of the graded tests he had looked at before didn't hold an A, B, C, D, or F. At the top of the packet was a letter that he had never seen on graded homework before; it was a 'R'.

"What?"

"This test is graded 'R,'" he showed Deaton and Lydia the packet.

Lydia pursed her lips and looked down at the tests, grabbing another one that was graded unusually. "This one's an 'H.'"

A bewildered expression passed over Deaton's face as he grabbed both of the tests from them. He set them on Harris' desk and rearranged some of the tests until the letter grades spelt out, 'DARACH'.

"Stiles," his voice conveyed the worry on his face. "you remembered how I told you druid is the Gaelic word for wise oak?"

"Yeah," what did that have to do with anything?

Deaton had his answer. "If a druid went down the wrong path, the wise oak was sometimes said to have become a dark oak," he looked over at him. "There's a Gaelic word for that as well. Darach."

Stiles grimaced; they were in deep trouble.

-

-

Olivia would probably be scrubbing Derek's blood from her nail beds for a week. It seemed like it was everywhere but in reality, it was isolated in the puddle in front of her where it had started to dry on the floorboards as she mopped and scrubbed it away. She wasn't one to get sick over blood but she still wasn't a big fan of it—especially when she had the job of cleaning it up.

Cora was upstairs with Derek, helping him clean and disinfect his wound before it healed up all the way so that left Olivia to do the work. Isaac, the little fucker, had refused to help her clean it up when he got home from school, and she would never forgive him. She had been on her knees the past hour or so after she finished mopping, trying to get the stain out of the floorboards. She was almost there.

"I think you missed a spot," Isaac called idly from his place on Derek's couch, his English textbook opened on his lap.

"Isaac, I swear, if you say another word..." her voice took on a warning tone that had Isaac smirking to himself.

Satisfied that he wouldn't say anything else, Olivia went back to the large, soapy sponge in her hands, wishing that the stain would just be gone already. She didn't want Derek to have to see it; her cousin was more than capable of protecting himself physically but she wanted to support him, even if she had to clean up his blood so he wouldn't have to do it himself.

She heard the metal door slide open and she only stiffened for a second before looking up and sighing in relief when she saw who it was. Stiles walked into the loft and rolled the door closed behind him before turning around to look at Isaac and then Olivia.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"She's cleaning up Derek's blood," Isaac answered casually, turning the page of his book. "He had a little accident."

Olivia rolled her eyes at him and then looked back at Stiles. "The alpha pack made a surprise visit."

Stiles winced worriedly. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, but Derek was," for the moment, Olivia gave up on the blood stain, throwing the sponge in the bucket of pink water and getting to her feet. "Kali decided that he needed a pipe through the stomach."

"Fuck, that had to hurt," Stiles made his way over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "Why'd they come?"

"They want Derek for their pack," Olivia kept it simple for now; she could tell him all the details later.

Stiles, who usually had a hard time picking up silent signals that a person didn't want to talk, just nodded in understanding. Olivia was one of the people he could read the easiest—other than his dad and Scott—so he knew she didn't want to talk about it. Usually, he would have pushed her to tell him anything but for some reason, he knew that tonight wasn't the night.

Olivia looked away from Stiles' face when she noticed that Cora was descending from the spiral staircase. Her cousin was dressed in a black t-shirt now, rather than her workout clothes, and her hands were cleaned of her brother's blood.

"How is he?" she asked her.

"He's getting dressed," Cora answered, her eyes flitting toward Stiles before pointing at him. "I know you."

Olivia furrowed her eyebrows as she looked between her cousin and her boyfriend. "How do you know Stiles?"

Stiles' eyes were lit up in recognition, as well as horror and embarrassment. "We met last summer," he told Olivia before looking at Cora accusingly. "You said your name was Cara."

Cora folded her arms over her chest, looking uncomfortable. "Yeah, well, I lied."

Shit, I'm fucked, Stiles cursed himself. I'm so fucking fucked.

Olivia was still confused. "Wait, what?"

Stiles nor Cora got a chance to answer as Derek came downstairs, cleaned up and dressed warmly to combat the slightly chill air from the storm going on outside. Olivia, Stiles, Isaac, and Cora turned to him and waited for him to say something.

Derek's expression was somber as he addressed Isaac. "Isaac, I need you to leave."

Olivia shut her eyes tightly; somehow, she knew this was coming. She knew Derek better than she knew most people; it was unfortunate that he was doing this but he was trying to protect Isaac. She just hoped he wouldn't screw it up.

"When should I come back?" Isaac misunderstood his alpha's words, closing his textbook and standing to his feet.

"No, I need you to move out," Derek elaborated, a grimace on his face. "It's for your own safety."

Isaac gave him a curious look. "Did something happen?"

"It—the alpha pack—" Derek shook his head. "Look, it's not important. You didn't do anything wrong but I need you to go."

Isaac's blue eyes were wide as he looked between Derek, Cora, and Olivia. "Where am I supposed to go?"

Olivia's heart ached for him; the loft was Isaac's home. He had been with Derek since his father was killed by the kanima last spring and he had no other family to go to. She was going to offer him a room at her and Lydia's house but surprisingly, Stiles was the one to speak up.

"I don't have a guest room at my place but Scott does," he said, uncharacteristically kind—when it came to Isaac, anyway. "I'm sure Melissa won't mind."

Derek looked at Isaac and Olivia could see the sadness in his eyes; he truly cared for his betas and he hated the fact that he had to send one away from his home. "Is that okay for now?"

Isaac nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, it's fine."

(Gif is not mine)

[polymathemawrites]

Hungover in the City of Dust Part 2

CW: depictions of broken bones, drug use (via the HEV suit), mentions of former sexual partners, guns, consumption of alcohol

Flashback with us to the year 2000 where Gordon is a useless bisexual with a huge ass crush and hasn't yet been fucked around with by eldritch abominations with briefcases

also featured: a section that looks vaguely like a songfic, do you guys remember songfics? wow so old

part one is here read below for part two

He broke his arm, he thinks. Looking down at it does nothing to help him determine this because it's in the HEV suit, but it's also in the HEV suit at a very inhuman angle. He's not that kind of doctor, so he doesn't know, but again he's pretty sure. The refrain of 'morphine administered' hums through and he staggers a bit.

Dr. Cross' voice says something, and he is forced to loop his finger in the air to get her to repeat herself, her understanding of ASL isn't as strong as some of the other AnMat members but he can get his point across easy enough.

"I asked if you wished to stop the simulation, Dr. Freeman."

He shakes his head.

It takes a further half an hour of training and the chemicals that the suit chooses to pump him with cause him to vomit up his lunch but they clear it.

He is beaming with pride, his arm in a sling when he meets an off-duty Barney Calhoun at the bar in the town above ground and a bus-ride away. The one Barney loved most, with the fake UFO constructed on the roof and the bigfoot pictures on the walls.

"Hole-lee shit, what happened to you, doc?"

Gordon makes him order him a drink from the bar and return before he signs out a heavily edited version of events, the REDACTED blanks nearly hang in the air between them.

But I'll be fine in a few days, it's not as bad as it looks.

Barney takes a sip of his PBR and Gordon's eyes immediately track the way his throat works around it, the wide-breadth of his chest in the plain black t-shirt he's wearing. Due to experience with Barney's limited wardrobe he knows he's wearing the same worn Levis he always wears, and that his uniform boots are what those jeans are tucked into.

Gordon reaches out and drags the menu of bar appetizers over in front of him even though he has it memorized at this point. Something to do with his eyes that isn't stare at Barney Calhoun like an idiot.

He sips his hard apple cider and listens to Barney give him a less redacted version of his day's events - the usual, who locked themselves out of their office, who stole whose lunch, who broke the elevator. Gordon snorted and stopped him, holding his hand up.

The elevator just hangs so whoever hits the button is not who breaks it, Barn.

He could finger-spell Barney, he could, but using the English Sign for Barn/Shed the first time had caused Barney to laugh so hard he choked, so he's done it since.

"I don't know doc, I think it's a pretty good working hypothesis."

Gordon laughs again, the same huffy silent breath, the sound makes Barney's eyes light up, his frankly devastatingly attractive face break out in a sweet smile.

No more hypotheticals from you.

Gordon touches him, a lot maybe, the more drinks he gets in him the more tactile he gets, eventually he slides into the same booth as Barney when he comes back from the bathroom, makes an excuse about how it will be easier for him to see the book Barney has bought from the similarly themed book-store next door to the bar. He laughs at the bad science, points it out and corrects it, and makes Barney laugh or huff and try badly to defend whatever not-a-scientist researcher has to say. Barney holds his PBR, cheap-ass fake piss water for babies, far more than Gordon holds his alcoholic apple juice for toddlers, so that when they do hitch the bus back to the compound, Barney has Gordon's arm slung around his shoulders.

Barney doesn't live in the underground, but he follows Gordon all the way to his rooms - or rather he shepherds him all the way there, together they manage with the door lock mechanism and despite it being a massive breach of security, it's Barney who inputs the numerical code to open the door in the end when Gordon can't seem to manage.

Deposited on the cheap mass-produced couch, Gordon kicks off his shoes and pulls his khaki-clad legs underneath himself while Barney messes around in the tiny kitchenette. Gordon had worked himself up to having the seniority enough to get his own kitchenette, it was a crowning achievement here at Black Mesa. Even if you didn't cook for shit, having a kitchenette meant you were considered a vital enough investment to be allowed a heating element in your dorm that wasn't a coffee maker.

It was a bit like perpetually living in a motel, when one thought about it. Less the college life and more hundreds of identical suites.

Barney crashes down next to him and shoves a glass of water at Gordon's chest. It doesn't manage to slosh and Gordon notes that Barney has even politely put a neon-pink bendy straw in it just for him.

He sips the water obediently and Barney puts his feet up on the coffee table.

He wants very badly to turn Barney's face toward him, to see that soft please smile up close. He wants even more to press forward, chase the taste of blue ribbon from the edges of his lips, follow deeper. He wants to drag his hands - or hand as the case may be tonight - over Barney's broad chest, the softness of his stomach, the stretch of his shoulders. Maybe five years ago he would have. If he'd met Barney when he was in college, not that it was at all likely seeing as Barney went to school on the entire opposite side of the country but still. Definitely not now that Barney was, is, the best friend he's ever had.

They'd hit it off like wild-fire from day one, Barney getting his dry and dark humor and Gordon obliging his conspiracy theories and charming warmth. A few months in and Barney had invited him to sneak onto a roof in the middle of the night, Gordon had come, half expecting Barney to confront him on Gordon's feelings. Instead there had been a cooler of beer, a blanket stretched out on the ground, and Barney's grin. Gordon told him the names of constellations and Barney made some up. UFO watching, except it's mostly star-gazing, and Barney didn't confront him, hasn't yet, but he also hasn't closed the distance between them either.

Gordon isn't open about his sexuality, but he's had boyfriends and girlfriends both, and one memorable night in which he had been propositioned at a bar by a couple and had ended up the very intimate meat in a sandwich.

When he puts the water glass down and reaches out to rest his hand upon Barney's arm, the guard turns his gaze from the ceiling to Gordon's face - his smile still easy and open.

He's a coward, he doesn't move in, he doesn't press his lips to Barney's smile, doesn't trace the curve with his tongue.

Gonna head to bed, you can camp on the couch if you want.

"Thanks Gord, I think I will." Barney pats him on the leg, makes him take the water to the bedroom with him.

He finishes half of the water while he sways on his feet, undressing and leaving the clothes he strips to the floor. He puts the arm sling on the bedside table and studies the bruising on his mending arm. The bone had been a clean break and a cleaner thing to heal for the mess of chemicals and other things. He didn't pretend to think he understood what it was that Black Mesa was working with that could heal a broken bone. Or where they got the samples they worked with in AnMat. He wasn't paid to think about where anything came from, only to get excited over the prospect of working with it, and he was - is. His college thesis has already been expanded on here, exponentially. There is so much to observe, so much to theorize on and then potentially prove or disprove.

He loves his job, really he does, he knows he is honored to be working here.

But breaking a bone hurts like a bitch. He curls up on his side and clicks off the light, remembers to remove his glasses only after he's already smashed them into his face via the pillow. He thinks about Barney removing his boots and jeans in the other room, about the months they've spent going to that bar or sneaking places they probably shouldn't. Lauren Calhoun hugging him and thanking him for keeping her brother out of trouble. It was her birthday soon, Gordon knew because Barney was at a loss for what to get her. Gordon's suggestion of flowers had been taken well, he only hoped Barney knew what she was and wasn't allergic to.

Gordon is allergic to dandelions, not that they were a flower usually used in bouquets, they were a weed, but still. Not that anyone had ever even gotten him flowers? Not even Kyle, although it wasn't as if they were open about their relationship anyway. When Kyle told him he was getting married but that didn't mean they needed to stop fucking, Gordon had politely ended it with him. Gordon had really wanted to deck Kyle and call him a bastard but well, the ever-present anger simmering under the surface had never exploded yet and Gordon was a patient man, maybe he never would - fated instead to go on in life with a steady undercurrent of seething rage. Was that actually normal? He didn't know to be honest.

He's thinking of what flowers Barney would get him, when he falls asleep.

You look like, a perfect fit, for a girl in need of a tourniquet.

Gordon sways along to Aimee Mann in the shower, eyes shut and head tilted up to the shower's spray, washing his hair with one hand.

But can you save me, come on and save me.

Gordon prefers vinyl but the bathroom isn't the place for his record player, so he listens to the CD he mail-ordered. He hasn't actually seen Magnolia, but he's listened to the soundtrack on repeat more than once while working. It fits his hangover just fine today.

If you could save me, from the ranks of the freaks, who suspect they could never love anyone.

He hangs his head down for the rinse, mouths out the words as the hot-hot water slides soap over his shoulders. There is a bang on the door and Barney's informal, "I'm comin' in."

Over Aimee Mann's voice crooning out Gordon's emotional state of being a perpetual bachelor in need of affection and human connection is the sound of Barney getting ready for work, swishing Gordon's mouth-wash, cleaning his face, flushing the toilet. "If you stay in there much longer you're gonna be late again, Gord." Barney warns him.

Gordon flips him off by sticking his hand out of the curtain and Barney laughs before letting himself out.

Except the freaks who could never love anyone.

When Gordon goes to run out the door, shoving his arm back into the sling and gathering the read-outs he'd dropped off before heading out to the bar he notices the cup of coffee Barney had made for him, waiting right there next to the door.

It is painfully domestic and Gordon sips his coffee as the tram carries him toward AnMat, perfectly sweetened and mellowed out with a heavy scoop of non-dairy creamer. Creamer of which Barney liked to tell him could cause cancer, even while putting it in his coffee for him, but if Gordon is going to get cancer from anything it will likely be a computer monitor. Also, Barney drinks his coffee plain and black which clearly means he has no soul or taste buds.

The guard who lets him out at the tram is named Harold, which Gordon knows because he's beat him at beer pong in the Security dorms above ground an undetermined amount of times. "Did Barney hook up in town or was he slumming it down with you guys?"

Gordon grins at him which is answer enough, he raises his cup of coffee to the man when he keys in the code for him and does the retinal scan. Some days more of the security staff will talk to him than the science staff and he knows he owes that to Barney, who had somehow decided he belonged at their weekly gatherings. He wonders sometimes what they think of him, if he's the weird mute nerd, or if he's actually been accepted as it seems he has.

The guard on the front desk gives him his messages, Dr. Vance wants to check in with him on the training yesterday and his request to use the supercomputer to run computations has gone through. When he throws the empty paper cup over his shoulder and effortlessly lands it in the waste bin on his way out it is to a short shout of excitement from the guard and the combined looks of annoyance and confusion from the loitering scientists and techs. This is probably why he 1. wins at beer pong all the time and 2. has more contact with the security team than his own.

He scarfs down a cold poptart in the break room and buys a bottle of overpriced water from the machine because he's starting to actually consider Barney's theory about the onsite water treatment facility putting mind-altering drugs into the tap water. The aging microwave hasn't given up yet but whenever he microwaves his poptarts someone looks at him weird and points out the perfectly working toaster.

He's just setting up at his desk to bring up the schedule for the supercomputer when Dr. Vance enters and shuts the door behind him, not actually the usual protocol for a meeting, Gordon instantly worries he's messed something up and the older man is going to gently berate him outside of earshot of the rest of AnMat. He wasn't THAT late!

What did I do?

Dr. Vance's kind face immediately takes on a rather guilty appearance, "No, no Gor- Doctor Freeman, you're fine. I just heard what happened during your training simulation yesterday and wanted to check on you." Gordon is aware that Eli Vance is a father, he's never met his child but he has been the recipient of a few nearly fatherly interactions with the man. Relief pours over him as he realizes he is just being worried after and hasn't messed up an equation or something serious.

I'm fine.

"You know, if it gets too much, you can always pause your training." Dr. Vance says it gently like it's not the most terrifying thing Gordon has ever considered. Months, they'd lose months of time, would have to train someone else and no one is even near Gordon's placement. He has been training with the HEV suit and anomalous environments for months now, he's the youngest scientist in AnMat. He had literally been physically training for half a year already, numb with horror he shakes his head and something in his expression must be less blank than he'd like it to be, because Dr. Vance gives a soft sigh, "The tests will wait, Gordon, you have to think about yourself too."

I'm fine. He signs it harder this time.

"You don't have to burn yourself out, you're young yet."

Gordon wants to tell him he's not that much younger than him, that just because he's married and has a kid and has seniority in AnMat, just because Gordon is a shut in who wont kiss his best friend, doesn't mean Gordon needs someone to tell him he doesn't have to break his body to pieces to prove a point. Because he knows that's what this is, it's the time the professor he was TA to had to take him aside in his office, hand warm and comforting on Gordon's shoulder and told him he wasn't going to green-light Gordon's request to double up his classes. He could have graduated two years earlier, damn it!

Thank you Dr. Vance, your concern is very kind. But I really am fine.

Smile, smile through the rage boiling under the surface. Dr. Vance gives up with a kind smile and a shrug of the shoulders.

The rage stays, all through his early morning meetings, the equations he runs on the supercomputer, lunch taken in silence, and the remaining hours spent running computations on the newest materials borrowed from Lambda. The frustration mounts when Dr. Keller, who doesn't know ASL, comes to 'discuss' his work on the last batch of materials and 'really this one equation just seems off' and he has to use the white-board to argue with the man, not argue, discuss their disagreement passively and with an objective toward polite reconciliation and a working resolution. Dr. Keller cuts Gordon off a few times, hard to do when Gordon is mute, and yet.

He excuses himself when it proves that Dr. Keller is too fucking stupid to admit he's wrong, doing so with a polite smile and and an apologetic wave. Takes his lab results and himself and shuts everything out in his office.

Barney must have gone everywhere looking for him, when he finds Gordon in the security dorm's gym, running his rage out on the treadmill he looks a little out of breath.

"Want to hit the shooting range with me?" Barney asks, as if he knows, as if just by looking at Gordon's carefully passive face, tense shoulders, and discarded arm sling, what a shit awful day he's had.

He dumps the arm sling in the trash on the way out, his arm aches down to the very bone and they told him to rest it for a week but the break is mended and the bruises are hidden by the long sleeve of his sweater so whose to say he was even hurt at all? He catches Barney looking at his arm a few times but the guard, his friend, says nothing about it all through the shooting range.

It was a rarity, that they do this. Gordon had asked Barney to teach him when he'd followed him in a few too many times during a conversation and had to wait. Something more to do with his hands, and the familiar motions center him as he checks the chamber and loads the beretta m9. Barney leans carefully in the opening of the booth behind him as Gordon unloads five of the fifteen rounds perfectly into the center of the moving target. The security staff who had seen him shoot had told him his mantra of 'it's just physics' was bullshit but that's really all it was. Computational math of trajectory and environmental input. There wasn't anything like windspeed in the firing range, but the few times he'd gone with Barney to the open-air range in town had been similarly (un)spectacular for Gordon.

His body feels loose after the guns are checked back in and the sweat has dried on his skin. Barney trails alongside him through the quiet tunnels of Black Mesa, toward the Science housing. "I'm sure glad we're friends so when you inevitably go postal I might survive." Barney is grinning at him, and Gordon smirk softly back at him.

He doesn't have to ask Barney inside, the guard follows him in too, and before Gordon can offer him a drink, Barney shocks him.

Gordon is tactile, he touches people, mostly unconsciously. Grounds himself in physicality and has always been a kinetic learner, retaining information by doing. In contrast Barney largely keeps his hands to himself. Over the months he's opened up with Gordon, yeah, but when he gently takes Gordon's arm in his strong sure hands, it is completely unexpected. Barney pushed his sleeve up, all the way to his elbow and Gordon stares down in numb shock. The bruising is ugly and mottled on his pale freckled skin, contrasted with the tan of Barney's hands it looks even worse.

"Gord, you gotta take care of yourself." When Barney says this it does not cause the same stream of anger to flow down his throat. It is a thrill of cool ice-water down his spine, a tingle along his nerve endings, makes his stomach clench up and get all fluttery at once. "Lets get some ice on this for twenty minutes and then put a heating pack on it, this has to be hurting you."

It does hurt, but with Barney's gentle hands holding his arm, he can barely feel it. They should bottle this up, Barney's warm concern, because it does more for Gordon than 10 mgms of morphine does, fuck.

Barney sets him down on the couch and puts a bag of frozen green beans on his arm. They watch a bootleg tape of MST3K Gordon swapped on the underground tape-trading circuit while Barney carefully times out alternating heating pad and frozen vegetable usage. Eventually Gordon starts to fall asleep to the sound of Tom Servo crooning out 'Creepy Girl' only rousing when he feels Barney's hand gently brush his hair back.

It feels so good that he closes his eyes and leans into it, so Barney does it again, gently carding his fingers through Gordon's hair. If he wasn't so bone-deep exhausted he might even be freaking out about this right now, but Barney is touching him and doesn't seem like it's something weird.

He blinks over at his friend in the light provided by the tv screen and the kitchenette's overhead. Warm smile, soft eyes, dark hair and five-o-clock shadow. Barney ruffles up his hair and finally removes his hand, "You need to eat something."

Probably.

But all he wants to do is sleep. So he doses off while Barney does something in his kitchen. He listens to it, pots and knife to chopping board. He doesn't even remember what he has in the half-fridge but Barney must have found whatever something is. When he presents Gordon with a bowl of ramen that has been beefed up with a soft boiled egg and vegetables he isn't too surprised.

Thanks.

He laughs silently and Barney settles down to eat his own bowl, they watch the end of the tape and Gordon turns off the white-noise static of the TV.

"So, whatcha doin' this weekend?" Barney asks him.

Nothing yet, what do you have in mind?

Barney grins at him softly and Gordon turns his attention to the noodles floating in cheap broth, because if he keeps looking at Barney right now, he might do something really stupid. Might do something like close the distance and kiss him or ask Barney to please touch his hair again because he thinks he could get addicted to that feeling if he isn't already, he is though. Barney is terribly easy to get addicted to.

[broadwaytheanimatedseries]

Once Upon A Time, In A Far Away Land... - AU:

The legend says that King Raymond, then still a Prince and an adventurer, went to find the terrible threat known as the dragon witch, that has been rumored to have hurt innocent people and was the cause of great distress for a long time. What he found was a lovely, beautiful woman with charm and wit and a heart of gold, who's reputation had been tainted by those who tried to steal from her and payed the price when she defended herself.

It was then and there that the king decided he would do anything to make her happy.

Many years later, and the two married and had a family together. Three beautiful boys. Two of them ordinary looking twins, and the younger one seemingly half dragon and half human.

Now of course not everyone in the kingdom was immediately on board with their new queen, not did they all approve of the princes, especially the young one. But eventually, most of them came around, or at the very least knew better than to voice their negative opinions.

The years pass and the children grow up. Roman and Remus learn magic and swordsmanship, both being more talented in the latter, and they go on lots of adventures, both together and separately.

while Drake learns all that and more, doing his best to perfect all his skills but being especially talented in magic. he wants to be able to always have the right answers, to never be caught unprepared.

Unfortunately, he is caught very unprepared.

One day, while adventuring in a part of the woods rumored to be overtaken by the misfits and rebels of the kingdom, Roman and Remus are caught in one of their traps.

"well well well, a couple of trespassers." A hooded figure teased, eyes lighting up in amusement.

"those are no ordinary trespassers! It seems we're in the company of royalty!" Replied a man with glasses who didn't seem that mean compared to the hooded figure.

"Vee did good job with those traps, I gotta hand it to him." Said the woman among them, sounding pleasantly surprised.

The twins were too weak from their previous fight to do much, and they could only stare angrily as they waited for one of the rebels to speak.

Finally, the woman gave an order.

"R, Em, escort our guests. I'll go tell boss the wonderful news."

Hours later, as Drake was pacing in his room and his parents were sitting in the throne room patiently waiting for news on the whereabouts of their sons, all knowing it isn't like them to disappear for this long without giving a proper warning.

Finally, a message came, from the leader of the forest dwellers.

"if you wish to see your sons, there are matters to discuss. I will come to the forest's entrance every night for the next three days. Send a representative, they must come alone. We shall see if we can come to an agreement that's favorable for both sides. Should you fail to accept this offer, we will have no choice but to keep the princes as our prisoners. Their transgressions can not go unpunished, but perhaps theit unfortunate mistake can bring about a new era, for all those who deserve a better life.

Sincerely, P. Sanders"

Drake couldn't sleep that night, knowing that his parents had no intention listening to the rebels' wishes. He couldn't help but worry what his life would be like without his brothers. He didn't like the idea of it, not one bit.

So that night, after tossing and turning in his bed for hours, he decided to do something he never thought he'd do in his life.

He snuck out of the castle to disobey his parents.

He went to the entrance of the forest to speak to the leader of the rebels. The man he saw before him, however, was not at all what he expected.

Patton Sanders has been fighting ever since he could remember himself. He was hardly the first rebel to find shelter in these woods, but with all the elders that had raised him having passed away, he became the new leader. It wasn't an easy job, but it was rewarding, and someone has to do it. He couldn't let all these poor people go without any help, not when he knew from personal experience how hard it was to survive in the kingdom for anyone who couldn't be born or marry into nobility, and who couldn't fit into whatever narrow path was set up for them.

So to see that the king and queen sent their youngest son to negotiate was... puzzling, to say the least. After all, you'd think at least one of them would want to show up to discuss a way to get their sons back.

But when he saw the prince's nervous body language, he suspected he knew what was really going on.

"greetings, Mr Sanders." the young prince gave a small bow.

~at least he cares enough to show up and be formal about it.~ Patton thinks and decides that he can allow himself to be a little nice.

"please, Mr Sanders was my father. You can just call me Patton, your highness."

"oh, alright. Well then I suppose you can address me as Drake, if you wish."

There was a moment of uneasy silence before Drake decided he'll cut to the point.

"so what is it that you want in exchange for my brothers' safe return?"

"simply put? Justice."

Drake raised an eyebrow, not in judgement or mockery but in confusion. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific."

"why is it, you think, that generations of outcasts and misfits have sought shelter in these woods? Have you considered why we'd need to seek shelter from our own kingdom?"

Drake had a few ideas, but by the look on his face they troubled him too much to express.

Patton sighed in sympathy and decided to say it himself, as he had many times before, to save the young prince (who actually was about Patton's age, although the leader looked older due to all that he's had to endure) the embarrassment.

"the kingdom is under attack from within itself. The rich and powerful are attacking the poor and helpless, by not extending to them the aid they need in order to just barely survive, let alone thrive as the nobles do. And your parents have been complacent, content to let the broken system that benefits them go on as it always had. All I want is equality. To be provided with what we need to survive and to be allowed to exist however we choose, be given the same freedom the nobles have that we had to escape from the kingdom into the forest to find. That is all the rebels have ever wanted, and it is all I ask."

Drake listens carefully, studying Patton's face for any deception or insincerity, and finds none. He sighs, tiredly, heavily.

"you know my parents didn't send me, don't you?"

"I figured as much, yes."

"so you understand this is gonna be hell on earth for me, trying to accomplish what you're asking of me, against their wishes, right?"

"indeed, but considering your choice of words, it sounds to me like you've already joined the cause."

"...unfortunately, yes." Drake couldn't help but agree. He knew it was dangerous, and would take expert planning, and would be downright impossible to achieve, but besides the fact that it was the only way to get his brothers back without starting an unnecessary war with the peaceful forest dwellers, it was also the right thing to do. And besides, Patton was very cute- convincing! Drake had meant convincing, he insisted to himself, unconvincingly. Yes the irony of that is not lost on him.

Meanwhile, At the rebels' campsite, the twin princes were surprised to find that aside from the occasional jab or tease, they were being treated rather respectfully. Sure their hands were tied to ensure they couldn't escape but they were treated more like guests rather than prisoners. In fact, they were treated like equals, which has never happened to them before. Their parents treated them like kids and, although they tried to be subtle about it, so did a lot of the older nobles, and everyone else treated them like royalty, which they were. But this was the first time they've ever had a normal conversation with people who saw them as equals.

Roman was a bit huffy at first, insisting he be treated with the respect worthy of a prince, only to be met with laughter and eye rolls. "there aren't any classes here, you're no better than anyone else. Better get used to it, Princey." said a figure standing completely in shadow, though his eyes almost glistened in the darkness, the fire reflecting off them. "let him whine, Vee. It's all he's got now." the woman he now knew as Valerie teased, and the only reason he let her get away with it is because she had bested him in combat earlier that day, when he made a daring escape attempt. Seeing as she proved herself a fierce warrior, she had his begrudging respect. But then he heard the shadowed figure chuckle in response, and the sound evoked many different emotions in him, so he decided to focus on annoyance and anger. "so, you're the Vee in charge of the cowardly contraption that ensnared my brother and I." Roman could see the eyes squint as they looked him up and down, and then a smug smirk spread across the shadow's face. "the very same. Pretty neat trick, isn't it?" "I don't know what you think is so impressive about a machine made by a man too weak and scared to best his enemies face to face." "it's efficient, and it takes a hell of a lot more wit and talent than waving a sword around like a reckless idiot." the shadow bit back, sounding very defensive. Roman would have been prouder to have gotten him riled up if it were for Valerie looking very mad at him for insulting who he now had to assume is a friend of hers. He really didn't wanna anger Valerie. "I wouldn't expect a ruffian like you to understand anything about the fine art of sword fighting." at that, the shadow growled. Well and fully growled, sending a shiver down Roman's spine, filling him with fear and... Well he was going to ignore that other feeling for now and hopefully it would go away. "okay, fuck this. Val, can you untie his hands?" Valerie's eyes went wide. "Vee, you don't have to-" "no, I want to. It's worth it to get this asshole to shut up and show some respect." Roman would have said something if he weren't intrigued by the conversation. "alright, but I don't like this." "no one's gonna get hurt. I promise." as Valerie untied his hands she glared at him. "what? How was I supposed to know he'd react this way? Also what the hell is going on?" "you'll see in a second, just don't see this as a chance to try escaping again or I'll personally knock you unconscious." "noted." as the bindings were fully removed from his hands and Valerie backed away, Vee stepped out of the shadows, allowing Roman to see him for the first time. This was already a very big problem for Roman, as he was not prepared for how hot the rebel was. To make matters worse, Roman wasn't done checking him out sizing him up, when Vee pulled a sword from where it was resting on his hip, and he held it directly at Roman's throat, just inches away from grazing his skin. And that really should not have made the blood rush to the direction it did for Roman, but his body just had the worst timing. Luckily, somehow, he still managed to focus on Vee's next words.

"you wanted to fight face to face? Fine. I, Virgil Fabre, challenge you to a duel."

And that is when Roman realized his big mistake. Well, too late to back out now.

"I accept your challenge."

Remus was ecstatic, though. He immediately started feeling more at ease and free to be himself. He didn't even mind being tied up all that much, and he made sure to get that point across with a bunch of inappropriate humor that made everyone uncomfortable. Well all except for the two men who brought them to the camp, and a third, much cuter nerd, resembling the rebel in glasses but seemingly more stoic, but even he was clearly smiling at one of Remus's crass jokes. Their eyes locked and the serious rebel blushed and turned back to resume his conversation with the men he now knew as Remy and Emile. Fuck. Finding a way to enjoy being kidnapped while waiting to be rescued or until he found a way to escape? That was one thing. But crushing on one of the rebels who was holding him prisoner? Remus would have to be a fool to act on these emotions. He glanced the other way to check on his brother and asked why he was sword fighting with one of the rebels. After being updated on what happened, he sighs heavily. Well you know what? If Roman was allowed to be stupid, and they were truly equals in this forest, then dang it Remus can do whatever Roman can do if he damn well pleases. With this new conviction, he boldly strutted over to the handsome nerd, only for Emile to give him a death glare that immediately makes him turn around.

But he's far from giving up. They all are.

Anyway thats it for this au, for now (;

Let me know what you think and as always -

Stay Tuned!

[btsiguess]

This Is Just To Say (m) - 3

Summary: To say it’s unusual to have a soulmate is an understatement, and most people desperately wish to have an elegant name scrawled upon their wrist. In reality though, you’d have to say it causes much more issues than it solves.

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader (slight Namjoon/Reader; Jungkook/Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Word Count: 4806

Warnings: Smut!!!

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

You were sitting in Tae’s room -- as had become the habit for your group in the past two weeks --  and Jungkook was attempting to teach you to play video games.

It wasn’t going particularly well, and Taehyung and Namjoon were practically rolling around on the floor as you tried your best to move your character around the screen. Surprisingly, Jungkook was keeping relatively calm while you struggled, a small smile playing on his lips as he sat close to you on the couch.

“You’re doing well, really.” He said quietly, so only you could hear. “Don’t listen to Tae and Namjoon, I think you’re doing great for your first time!”

“Jungkook, I’ve died eleven times in the past twenty minutes.”

He cracks a smile and shakes his fringe into his eyes.

“It’s okay to say I’m bad, Jungkook.”

“You are.” He laughs, “but I still love watching you play. And I can’t help but feel honored that you’re letting me teach you.”

You hear Namjoon and Tae laugh.

“Bro, it’s Fallout not her virginity.” Namjoon snorts, and Jungkook’s smile falters just a bit. You doubt you’d have noticed if you hadn’t been sitting so close.

“You’re right,” you say, “this is way better than when I lost my virginity.”

The room fell into fits of giggles again, and Jungkook beamed at you. Soft motherfucker, you think, I used to be something. But really you felt pleased, sitting by Jungkook as you made another mistake in the game and died again. This was nice.

“I think I see what you’re doing wrong!” Jungkook said “You’re mixing up your health points and action points.”

He leans closer to you as he begins explaining… something. You can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his skin and you know, you know, you should be paying attention to what he was saying. After all, you weren’t kidding when you said you liked the video game, and you wanted to be good at playing since all the boys played so often but… shit. You were only one person you know?

After a moment Jungkook looks directly into your eyes. His mouth moves and his head cocks slightly to the side, but still you don’t hear what he says. Your heart is pounding extra hard in your chest and finally Jungkook waves a hand in front of your face.

“Y/N? You good?”

“Uh. Y-yeah.” You stutter and you’re suddenly grateful for the distraction the door opening brings.

Jimin comes in, looking as handsome as ever, and hops onto his bed after greeting you all.

“Y/N!” He says, “I didn’t expect you to be playing video games!”

“Yes!” You reply, “Jungkook is teaching me.”

A knowing smile passes over Jimin’s lips before he asks if this was really your first time playing a video game.

“I play Animal Crossing?” You respond.

“That counts, definitely!” Jimin says, and the rest of the boys nod in agreement.

“But it’s on a different system,” Jungkook pipes in, “and she’s having a bit of trouble getting the hang of this controller.”

“Cute.” Jimin says and you scrunch your nose up, “So cute!” He repeats.

It continues much in the same way for a while. The introduction of Jimin to your group makes everyone work to help you a bit more sincerely, and you find that they’re suddenly giving you tips that are actually helpful. You can definitely feel yourself making progress, and each time you level up the whole room cheers in encouragement.

Eventually though, Jimin’s phone makes a little ping, and he asks excitedly if you’d all like to come with him to a bar with some of his friends.

Tae and Jungkook agree immediately, leaving you and Namjoon to stare nervously at one another.

“Come on!” Jungkook says to you, “It’ll be fun! We can celebrate you getting to level seven!”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it!” you retort.

“Y/N” Tae drawls from his perch on his bed, “you know you’re going to end up saying yes, so why fight it? It’s a Friday night! Don’t waste it.”

“Fine,” you sigh, “I’ll go, but only if Joonie comes too.”

The room turns to stare at him and he just shrugs his shoulders and mutters a “whatever, sure” before everyone stands to leave.

On the walk there, Jimin tells you about the friends you’ll be meeting but you’re much more focused on the way Jungkook’s hand brushes against yours every so often. You wonder if it would be too forward of you to reach out and grab his hand but just can’t work up the guts regardless.

When you arrive at the bar you follow Jimin to a table of his friends. There’s a lot of you now, eight altogether, and you’re squished together quite snugly; the round booth you’re occupying built for probably around six, leaving you pressed closely between Namjoon and Jungkook.

Jimin goes around the table and introduces everyone, and you learn that his three friends names are Hobi, Suga, and Jin and that their majors are dance, music composition, and theatre respectively.

Jimin begins to tell the story how they all met, through the university’s last end of the year arts recital, but suddenly you feel Jungkook start bouncing his leg slightly beneath the table. His thigh, which is pressed flush to yours, moving just enough to shake your leg a little too.

The touch is thrilling in a way that makes you uncomfortable, like you’re doing something wrong. The feeling of discomfort is unusually strong at the moment as well, for whatever reason. You’re in a public place, your brain supplies.

You unthinkingly place your hand beneath the table, on top of his thigh, to stop his movements.

You both stiffen and you move your hand off of his thigh abruptly, placing both your hands politely on the table. You lean forward as you try to become more engaged in the conversation going on.

You feel a little bit blessed as Jimin drags Jungkook to the bar to get you all drinks, the space between you and that boy was definitely needed.

One of Jimin’s friends, Hobi, asks you questions about yourself, as if he’s trying to include you in the conversation a bit more. You’re grateful to him as you answer and soon he’s asking the age old question, “What’s your major?”

“Literature!” You tell him, as Jungkook and Jimin come back with full hands, casually passing out drinks.

“Yeah but you should see her debate,” Namjoon adds, “she should join-”

“Don’t say it, you fuck.” You shoot, but he only smirks back.

“Philosophy!” He finishes.

“What’s wrong with philosophy?” another of Jimin’s friends add, Suga this time.

“Nothing” Namjoon says at the same time as you say “everything.” And again your group laughs a bit.

“Y/N has a bit of a vendetta against the philosophy majors here on campus,” Jimin says, “Seems like they don’t like the way she debates.”

“What do you throw punches instead of words?” Suga asks, “Why wouldn’t they like it?”

“Because I always win.” You state smugly, looking directly into his eyes.

“A bit cocky, no?” Suga shoots back.

This time Namjoon comes to your rescue, and you’re a bit relieved. Suga seems… challenging. Not necessarily in a bad way, but you feel… some sort of way when you look at him, and you chalk it up to him being just as ready to fight as you always were.

“No, she really does always win.” He says, “It’s like watching an actual tornado happen right in front of you. It’s destructive, awe-inspiring, and demands respect.”

Suga simply nods at that, as you take your hand and jokingly flip your hair over your shoulder in mock arrogance.

“Damn, Joonie, thanks. I know I’m fantastic but feel free to always remind me.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” he says.

“I always thought philosophy was really interesting!” Jin says, “I’m surprised you don’t like it.”

“I do like it.” You reply, “It’s just the philosophy majors that make it suck.”

“Seems to me,” Suga says, “that you’re letting them win by doing that. You’re letting them ruin something you like just by existing.”

You stare at the boy for a moment, trying to decide whether you’re offended or impressed. Both, you think. He holds your gaze, his dark eyes never wavering as he brings his drink up to his lips.

You find yourself at a loss for words, no witty comeback or scathing remark flying forward like it usually does. Suga seems pleased at your state, and you can see his lips quirk up just a bit over the rim of his glass.

“I bet you wouldn’t say that if you ever went to a philosophy club meeting.” Namjoon says, noticing your silence. Honestly, bless that boy. You should start keeping a tally of the amount of times Namjoon has saved your ass.

“Mmm, maybe.” Suga hums noncommittally. “When are they? Maybe I’ll go.”

“Thursday’s. They start at six, in the campus center.” Joonie replies and you’re floored. Suga definitely doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would willingly go to philosophy club. You briefly consider that maybe he’s just trying to rile you up. And it’s definitely working.

You lean back in your chair and try not to look as huffy as you feel. You’re not mad at this… Suga boy by any means. But you weren’t used to the way he challenged you. I mean, you and Joonie fought all the time but that was always about things that didn’t really matter. Suga had gone right for your stubbornness, and honestly most people didn’t call you out on it. Suga though? He had a point. Maybe you really were letting the philosophy majors win? No, you think, I’m not.

“Philosophy is fun, but it’s not my passion.” You say suddenly, interrupting whatever conversation had evolved since the last time you were paying attention.

Suga raised his eyebrows at you, and a small smirk spread across his lips.

“You’re still on that, huh?” He asked.

“Well, I just didn’t want you to think that I let people walk all over me like that. Philosophy is fun but I wouldn’t like to have to learn it. I just like doing it on my own.”

“Mmm, okay.” Suga says, shrugging.

At this point the whole table was watching the conversation play out, and you felt your face heat up under the weight of their gazes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sneer at the boy across from you.

“You say you don’t let people walk all over you but you got upset over what I said and you don’t even know me. Seems like you put a lot of weight into what other’s think about you.”

You feel your mouth open and close, and your blood starts to boil.

“Everyone cares about what other people think of them.” You finally sputter out, “It’s stupid to pretend you don’t. It doesn’t make you cool.”

For the first time since you’ve met Suga you feel like you’re in control of the situation again. His eyes narrow ever so slightly at your words and out of the corner of your eye you see Hobi stifle a giggle.

“I’m not trying to be cool.” He says simply.

“That sounds like something a person who was trying to be cool would say. It’s stupid to pretend things don’t matter. At least I can admit that the philosophy majors were bothering me, and then come up with a solution to fix it. Better than just making the people around me feel little.”

Namjoon put his hand on your arm, distracting you from Suga’s icy gaze.

“Y/N, I think you’re getting a little too into it.” Joonie tells you.

You wrench your arm from his grasp and nod.

“You’re right. I must be tired I’ll just go.” You say, gathering your things.

“Ah, babe, don’t go!” Jimin says, “Suga say you’re sorry.”

“No.” he says, and you find that even through your anger you are impressed with the way he operates.

“It’s really fine guys,” you say. “I’m just tired. It’s getting late anyway. Jungkook, scooch. Let me out.”

Jungkook stands and stutters out a quick “I’ll go with you. To make sure you get home safely.”

You nod, before saying your final goodbyes, flipping Suga off as you leave. Suga huffs out a laugh at that, but you try not to analyze the situation too much on your way out.

As you and Jungkook exit the bar and begin to walk in the direction of your dorm, he turns to you.

“I think the way you handled that was really cool. He was being sort of an ass hole.”

“Ah, Jungkook, you are my favorite. I love when you agree with me.”

You see a light blush color his cheeks and in a moment of sheer bravery and stupidity, you reach out and grab his hand in yours.

You hold your breath, waiting for Jungkook to laugh at you and let go, but he doesn’t and he stays quiet too.

“I, uh,” you start, “I really had a fun night playing video games with you today.”

Jungkook beams at you, “me too! You’re improving really quickly! I, uh, I have a playstation in my dorm too. Maybe you could stop by sometime and we’ll play some more!”

“Really? That sounds awesome! I’ll definitely take you up on that! Maybe we can do it tomorrow? If you’re free?”

“Yes. Definitely free. Yes.”

You giggle softly at how quickly he responds, and allow yourself to grip his hand tighter.

You walk the rest of the way to your dorm in comfortable silence, and when you get to the front steps of your residence hall, Jungkook turns once more to face you.

You’re briefly given an odd feeling of deja vu, remembering how Joonie did the exact same thing not too long ago. you can’t focus on that for long though because Jungkook is looking directly into your eyes, and boy if that doesn’t just halt your thoughts right in there tracks.

“So,” you say, “ I’ll, um, see you tomorrow I guess…”

Jungkook doesn’t respond and just leans forward to press his lips against yours. It’s a brief kiss, just a peck, and he’s pulling away before you have the chance to reciprocate.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’ve just wanted to do that all n--”

You don’t let him finish his thought before you’re pulling him back to your lips again, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jungkook seems momentarily shocked, but recovers quickly enough, his hands sliding down your sides and wrapping around your waist. He returns the kiss in earnest and you start to feel lightheaded as you feel his tongue come out to lightly trace along your lower lip, asking for entrance. A little whimper escapes your lips as you open your mouth to him, and the sound has Jungkook gripping you tighter.  

Your hands come up to tangle in his hair and you can’t help but pull slightly as his tongue rubs along yours. The light tug you give pulls a low grunt from Jungkook’s lips and you suddenly feel heat begin to gather at your core.

“Jungkook,” you half say, half moan into his mouth, “Jungkook, come upstairs.”

“Fuck, yes.” He replies, still not moving his lips away from yours.

“Jungkook,” you say, trying to pull away, but his hands keep you pulled flush against him, one lacing through your hair to hold your mouth to his. You turn your head away from him slightly, trying again to stop his onslaught of kisses, but he just begins trailing his lips sinfully down the side of your throat, his hand gripping your hair tightly.

He’s being much more rough with you than you thought he would be, not that you’re complaining; and you briefly wonder just how much he holds back in his everyday life. You’re letting yourself get lost in Jungkook and you know you have to stop him soon before things get carried away on the front steps of your residence hall.

“Jungkook, you have to stop kiss--” your words get lost in a gasp as he sinks his teeth into the junction between your shoulder and your neck, and then begins soothing the spot with his tongue.

“What was that, babe?” He says with a low chuckle, and then immediately continues his ministrations. You try to reply, you really do. But your head is swimming and Jungkook’s mouth feels so perfect working on the skin of your neck and it’s all too much.

From across the street you hear a wolf whistle.

“Yeah!” The stranger shouts. “Get it in my man!”

Your cheeks flush a deep scarlet and Jungkook laughs, pulling away from you. He looks down at your dishevelled form, and smiles before quickly placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Am I still invited upstairs? I’d rather not have an audience” He asks, and you nod, not trusting your voice not to waver if you speak.

You take Jungkook’s hand and lead him into your dorm, trying not to look too eager as you rush up the stairs. When you get to your room, Jungkook stands close behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and his lips playing softly on your neck as you fumble to get your keycard into the lock on your door.

After the third failed attempt, Jungkook laughs and takes pity on you. He takes your keycard from your shaking hands and easily inserts it into the door’s lock, opening it on the first try.

You grumble a bit, but Jungkook pushes you inside the room, closing the door behind him.

“Where’s your roommate?” He asks glancing at the two single beds in the room.

“She goes home for the weekend.” You reply and he smirks down at you, biting his lip.

“Then I guess,” he says, pausing to draw you in for a deep kiss, “I can take my time with you tonight.”

You’re pretty certain your knees are going to give out any second so you wrap your arms around Jungkook’s neck and pull him into another kiss.

Now that you’re both alone, Jungkook seems to be letting himself go even more. His mouth is rough on yours and his teeth bite and nip at your lips. His hands don’t stop moving, running through your hair, along the curve of your jaw, down your sides and back, over the curve of your ass.

Suddenly he picks you up, wrapping your legs around him, and he presses you up against the wall, his mouth never leaving yours. The new position allows you to feel Jungkook’s hardness through his pants, and you’re sure you’re positively drenched as well.

For the second time tonight, Jungkook’s mouth runs along your jaw and neck. This time though, he’s taking his time, sucking and biting so harshly you’re sure you’re going to have marks all over you tomorrow. You’re also sure that that’s Jungkook’s intention and you can’t help but gasp at the thought of everyone looking at you tomorrow, knowing…

Your hips buck into Jungkook’s of their own accord and he let’s out a low growl. Hands gliding back and forth on your hips, forcing you to roll on him again and again.

“Fuck.” He says, as your hips move together frantically, little breathless moans leaving your lips at the friction, “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

“Jung- kook” you gasp brokenly, and he slams his lips back on yours.

He pulls you away from the wall, never ending the searing kiss he’s giving you as he lays you both down on your bed, positioning himself between your legs. He parts the kiss, looking down at you, your hair fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your breathing ragged, and you lips swollen. He drops his head to your shoulder and breathes out another ‘fuck’ before his hands come down to the hem of your shirt, tugging for your permission.

You nod and he lifts your shirt over your head tossing it to the side before his mouth is on you again, trailing down the front of your chest; his hands reach beneath you and unclasp your bra and that too is discarded. You gasp and moan as his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, his fingers coming up to lightly toy with the other. He flicks his tongue back and forth, and your back arches off the bed, desperate for more contact. He smirks up at you before letting his mouth slide off you with a small, wet pop before he switches his attention to the other side of your chest.

You tug on his shirt and he pulls away, leaning back and pulling his shirt over his head. You greedily let your eyes rake over his chest your hands come up to rub along his abdomen of their own accord. He drops his head back at the feel of your hands, a shaky breath slipping from his lips.

He revels in the pleasure for a moment before focusing his attention back on you, his hand coming down to unbutton your jeans and pull them -- and your underwear -- down your legs and off you. You gasp as his hands gently force your thighs open, and he stares unabashedly at your wet center, catching his lip between his teeth. You blush at the intimacy of it all and try to close your legs. Jungkook just laughs slightly, trailing his fingers down the inside of your thigh, drawing slow circles into your skin.

“You look so fucking beautiful.” He say and he leans over you to kiss you again, his hand still teasing you, dipping low towards your core but never quite coming in contact.

You’re desperate for his touch, your body is hot all over, and his mouth over yours drives you wild.

“Please, Jungkook,” you gasp out, “please!”

“Please what,  babe?” He whispers into your ear, a smile playing on his lips.

“Please touch me! Please!” You gasp out and he chuckles, before slipping his fingers gently over your folds, making a gasp spill from your lips and your back arch into him.

“Ah!” He says, clearly pleased, “you’re soaking! I’ve hardly even begun.”

His fingers dive into you again, this time swirling over the swell of your clit.

Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders and as he continues, his fingers working you into a frenzy.

“Shit, you look so sexy like this,” Jungkook tells you, “lying beneath me, gasping for me, moaning for me, dripping down my fingers. God I want to taste you so bad.”

Your breath hitches in response and then Jungkook is sliding down your body, peppering kisses down your torso as he goes. He settles between your legs and glances up at you, waiting for your permission. You nod quickly, and he wastes no time, licking a stripe up your center.

You can’t hold back the moan that leaves your lips as he sets to work, his tongue alternating between circling your clit and diving straight into you. You try to cover your mouth with your hand, embarrassed at the noises you’re making but Jungkook grabs your wrist tightly. He’s gazing up at you through his eyelashes and you’ve never seen something more beautiful and obscene. There’s a challenge in his eyes and you’re briefly reminded of Suga.

Your head tips back and your eyes close at the thought of the other boy between your legs, eating you out with reckless abandon. You bet you’d be able to feel his smug smirk even as he--

You’re eyes shoot open again as Jungkook slips two of his fingers inside you. You don’t have time to feel guilty about your mind wandering because Jungkook is curling his fingers within you, rubbing on a place inside you that has you shuddering, and you feel a coil begin to start forming in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers thread into Jungkook’s hair, and you’re unable to stop yourself from pulling roughly, as you move closer and closer to the edge.

“Are you close, babe?” Jungkook asks, and the only reply you can give is a loud moan.

“C’mon then.” he says, “I want you to cum all over my fingers, cum for me.”

With that he lowers his mouth to your clit and sucks harshly. The coil within you snaps, and you’re sure you black out for a moment. Jungkook’s fingers continue to move inside of you, helping you ride out your orgasm and when you come back down from your high he smirks up at you.

“You’re taste so good.” He says, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking them clean, all the while keeping eye contact with you.

“Jungkook,” you say, trying to catch your breath, “Jungkook, please.”

“Yeah?”

“Please fuck me.”

For the first time all night, Jungkook is struck silent. He stares at you with lust filled eyes, and  you reach out to tug at the waistband of his jeans. That snaps him out of his reverie and he’s quickly shuffling to get his pants and boxers off and a condom out of his wallet.

You take in the sight of his hardened member, marveling at it’s length and thickness.

“You’re so big, Jungkook.” You say, before you can stop the words, and you quickly add “Sorry, that was lame.”

Jungkook leans over you again, shaking his head.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You take the condom from his hands and tear the package open, you give him a few slow strokes that leave him breathless, before rolling the condom on.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and you nod.

Jungkook places a sweet kiss on your lips before sliding inside of you, and you gasp at the stretch.

“G-god,” you mumble, “you really are big.”

Jungkook chokes out a strangled ‘sorry’ but you feel him twitch inside you at your words.

“No, it feels so good. Please, you can move.”

Jungkook shifts inside you and you both groan. You were still sensitive after your first orgasm and the feeling of Jungkook inside you was almost too good for you to stand.

Jungkook tries to go slow at first, to get you used to his size, but soon he’s losing control of himself, using his strong arms to push your legs back, to go deeper. You can’t hold back your moans as he fucks into you and the sound is like music to Jungkook’s ears.

“You’re so tight.” he says as he picks up the pace, shifting his hips and hitting a spot that has stars dancing across your vision.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you say. “Right there, please don’t stop! Please don’t ever stop!”

“God, you sound so sexy begging for my cock. Shit, say my name again babe.”

His filthy words in your ear has you complying with his request unintentionally. His name falling from you lips in a desperate gasp, and he thrusts harder. Already you’re barrelling towards your second orgasm and by the way Jungkook’s thrusts are coming more haphazardly, you’d say he’s close too.

“Again.” he growls out, “Say it again.”

A particularly hard thrust has you nearly shouting his name, and without any prompting from him, it begins to spill out of your mouth like a mantra.

You’re both panting, and the room smells of sweat and sex and all you can hear is the sound of  skin slapping on skin, along with your desperate cries of his name.

“God, yes!” Jungkook gasps as you cum around him, your walls clenching around his dick and pulling his orgasm from him. He kisses you as he cums and your moans mingle together, before his arms momentarily lose the ability to hold his weight, his body coming down a bit roughly on yours, his dick still inside you,

“S-shit sorry,” he says, but you just wrap your arms and legs around him, hugging him to you. He chuckles slightly, and turns his face into yours, kissing you gently before removing himself from you and tossing the condom into the wastebasket beside your bed.

He then lets himself collapse beside you, and you roll to cuddle into his side.

“Jungkook, that was amazing.” You say, and he agrees.

“Will you stay here tonight?” You ask, and he looks at you surprised.

His face splits into a smile and he tentatively leans forward to kiss you again, almost as if he's afraid you'll push him away.

“I would really love that.” He says before pulling you closer and shuffling so you're both under the blankets.

It all feels perfect and warm, and it isn't long before your vision fades, sleep overtaking you.

A/N: Oh mannnnnnnn so THAT happened. But don’t worry, it’s still a Yoongi fic! Also, as usual I’d like to thank my babe (lol) @gimmesumsuga for editing and giving advice because she’s a smut Goddess ????? 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

WAD, LIAO

Lance had thought everything would be fine now his heat had passed. He was trying his hardest not to burden his friends, even though he was barely able to pull off his usual over the top persona. 

 It'd been four movements now, and as far as everyone else knew he was just fine, but that was because he was living a lie. After waking up in Keith's arms, Lance had crept back to his own room, ashamed of needing the alpha's touch. Arriving back at his quarters, he'd found it trashed with a very angry Shiro waiting for him. After backhanding him hard enough that he tasted blood in his mouth, Shiro had forced himself upon him, not stopping no matter how hard he fought. Now every time Shiro thought he was getting to close to anyone, the alpha would punish him in the same means. Honestly, Lance had lost count of the times Shiro punished him. The omega only knew that the bruises left never faded before new ones were added. Shiro was careful though, the alpha never hitting him where anyone else might see, and his punishments only came in the dead of night, when everyone else was asleep. Lance was falling apart, and after how Keith had been so sweet to him, so he couldn't bring himself to admit the abuse was still occurring.

 Returning to his quarters, Lance didn't even need to look back to tell Shiro had followed him. The alpha uncharacteristically quiet as he pulled Lance up against him

"Sh-Shiro?"

"Why did you save Keith? Do you like him?"

"Wh... what do you mean?"

Sliding his hand down Lance's pants, Shiro grasped his limp dick firmly enough that Lance yelped

"Shiro"

"Do you like him? Do you want him instead of me?"

"No! No... Keith's our friend"

"You little slut. You want him too don't you. You want his seed and his pups"

Trying to free himself, Lance whimpered as Shiro's cold inorganic hand tightened further 

"You're wrong! I don't... please alpha..."

"Don't forget who you belong to"

"I won't! Please, Shiro... my alpha..."

Suppressing a shudder, Lance hated calling Shiro his. He hated Shiro and couldn't believe he'd ever fancied the alpha. Shiro was playing everyone around them, and no one seemed to know or perhaps they did and they just didn't care

"Good omega, now present yourself"

 With his hands against the wall and his pants around his ankles, Lance found he couldn't cry anymore. Feeling the drag each time Shiro pulled back, the alpha would leave just the very tip of his erection inside of him before slamming in bruisingly hard. Reduced to snarls, Shiro mouthed at his neck, but never bit down. It was like he was telling Lance that he wasn't worth bonding with now that he knew he could knot him all he wanted without it. The feeling left him hollow... even more hollow then the act of sex it's self. He was just a toy in the alpha's hands, not even a person.

  *

Sitting with Allura, Keith was nursing his drink. With Lance's mental health not improving, they were planning on setting the castle down on the next suitable planet they found. After being stuck inside the castle for so long, they were all going a little crazy

"Good news, I think I've found a planet suitable for our stop"

Interrupting their musings, Coran beamed happily at them

"You have?"

"It's a wormhole away, but it has a suitable atmosphere, and as you requested a pretty big lake"

Knowing how much Lance missed Earth, Keith had specifically asked for the planet to have somewhere they could go swimming

"We'll go right now. I think we could all use some downtime"

"I'll find my bathing suit. I just hope it still fits"

Coran plus bathing suit equalled speedos in Keith's mind. A sight he never needed to see. Still, Coran seemed especially excited about making landfall, something he hadn't really expected.

 It was another 6 vargas before the castle finally came to a rest on the planet Coran had found. The moment Pidge had realised what was happening, the girl had come running to demand answers. Paging the rest of them, Allura kept the anxious Pidge waiting until she could announce to all of them they were taking a holiday. Lance didn't seem as enthused as Keith had hoped, the omega shying away from the group, exchanging a glance with Allura, both of them silently agreed that today would be Lance's day

"Hunk, we'll need food for a picnic, and there's a big lake for swimming. Keith, why don't you take Lance down and check out the water while we get everything organised up here"

Shiro frowned at the pair of them, but Hunk was already talking menu items

"Shiro, why don't you help Hunk with the food. Pidge, you're on entertainment"

"I can do that! I've been working on..."

Walking over to Lance, Keith placed his hand on his shoulder

"You ready?"

"Sure"

 Landing Red near the shore of the lake, the pair of them walked over to the edge of the lake. Bright blue in colour, it looked harmless enough

"Keith, why are we here?"

"Because Allura wanted to take a break. We've been on the move nonstop, and being trapped on the castle nonstop is hard"

He had word vomit. He'd tried to make it sound casual, but his words ended up falling out all over each other

"You're a terrible liar"

"Fine. Allura's worried about all of us. You're barely talking to any of us. Shiro's all broody. Pidge hasn't been tinkering as much, and Hunk... no, Hunk's been fine in the kitchen"

Honestly he hadn't really been paying much attention to everyone else, whenever he was alone, Lance crept into his mind. Actually... no, Lance crept into his mind even he didn't want him to

"Well... do you think the water's safe?"

"I'll go in if you do"

"Are you calling me chicken?"

Letting out a huffy pout, Lance put his hands on his hips 

"No, but I don't see you moving"

"You're not moving either"

Acting on impulse, Keith grabbed Lance's hand

"If I'm going down, you're coming with me"

Never in his life had he imagined he'd be running into a strange alien lake while holding Lance's hand. Ignoring the initial shock of the cold water, Keith plunged forwards, dragging Lance with him below the surface. Reemerging Keith immediately looked to Lance, for the first time in movements the omega was laughing. A wave of affection rushed up, and before he knew it, Keith had pulled Lance close

"Um, Keith?"

"You look like a drowned rat"

"You're the drowned rat with that mullet of yours"

"Well it takes one to know one"

"Oh! It is so on"

Dunking him under the water, Keith grabbed Lance around the waist and pulled him down, both grinning at each other stupidly. Lance really was most beautiful when he smiled. Filled with the urge to kiss Lance, and when the pair finally emerged again, he did just that. The kiss was slow and sweet, and over before it really began. Breaking away, Lance's smile faded and Keith cursed himself ruining the moment 

"Lance..."

"I'm sorry"

Fleeing the lake, Lance left behind a trail of distress that had Keith cursing himself all over again. The trip down here was supposed to be helping Lance forget his troubles, not add to them. Giving Lance enough time to settle down on the bank of the lake, the alpha took his time as Coran emerged on the shore line

"Keith! Lance! How's the water?"

Gross. As he'd predicted Coran was dressed in his speedos, while the man's moustache almost seemed to gleam unnaturally

"It's nice!"

Wading out of the water, Keith wiped his face before looking down to find a very red-faced Lance 

"What? What is it?"

"Keith, your bobby dazzler's showing"

"My what?"

"If you two wanted to go swimming naked..."

Looking down, Keith realised he was now naked

"I wasn't naked when I went in!"

Looking away, Lance covered his face with his hands, while Keith tried to hide his crotch

"It's true. We both had our clothes on"

"Then why are you naked?"

"I don't know..."

This was mortifying, but at least Pidge and Allura hadn't been here to witness his moment of shame. Turning away, Coran gave him enough privacy so he could return to Red. He should have known better than to trust Coran or to trust that alien water was really water.

  *

With swimming out of the question, Hunk and Allura went about setting up a huge picnic, while Pidge was beside herself examining the properties of the water. The only explanation they had was that Keith's clothes dissolved completely because he was in the water longer than Lance. Though Coran insisted he was still going swimming after they'd all eaten.

 Despite having showered and changed, Keith still made it back to the others before Lance did. The sun setting as the omega finally came wandering into camp. Smiling, Lance plonked himself down next to Hunk

"Hunk, I'm starving"

"Good. I might have made too much"

"With your cooking, there's no such thing"

Looking over to Shiro, he found Shiro watching the pair. None of this escaped Allura though 

"So what do you usually do on Earth, when you go for picnics?"

"Allura, I think this more like dinner than a picnic. But we swim, or we play games"

"Or we drink. It's about having fun"

"Speaking of drinking, Lance, you have to try this"

"Hunk, did you make moonshine?"

Hunk squirmed for a second 

"I didn't mean to. I was trying to recreate a milkshake"

Keith had no idea how a milkshake became moonshine, but Lance wasn't questioning it. Taking he bottle Hunk produced, the omega popped the cap, before downing a long swig

"That's enough! This stuffs pretty strong"

Lowering the bottle, Lance let out a long "ahhh"

"Wow. That's good"

Taking back the bottle, Hunk took a much smaller swig before passing it on to Allura 

"Drink up, I've got another 4 bottles"

 With the fire dying, and everyone full from Hunk's cooking, one by one everyone started heading to bed, until it was just Keith, Lance, Hunk and Shiro left. Shiro had barely had anything to drink, where Lance and Hunk were both well and truly plastered 

"... and then Coran comes up, and you know what he says, he tells Keith his "bobby dazzler's showing"! Can you believe it! He called Keith's junk "bobby dazzler". Wheezing from laughing so hard, Lance fell back as Hunk pulled a face

"You saw Keith's junk?"

"Yep! You should have seen the look on his face!"

If looks could kill, Keith would be dead. Locking eyes with Shiro, the alpha looked murderous

"Lance, it wasn't that funny"

"But it was! I had no idea how much I needed this!"

At least Lance was feeling better, though it was definitely time for the omega to call it a night

"Hunk, why don't you help me get Lance to bed. I think he's had more than enough"

"Nooooo!"

"Yeah leave us alone. We can drink"

"No, Keith's right. It's time we called it a night. Come along Lance"

The moment Shiro said Lance's name, the omega stopped laughing. Pulling himself to his feet, Lance seemed to fold in on himself as he looked to Hunk

"He's right. I'm going to bed"

"Fiiiine. Keith will stay with me, right?"

"No, Keith's going to bed. So are you Hunk"

"Why you gotta be so mean Shiro?"

"It's fine Hunk. I'll see you in the morning"

With the way Lance was staggering, Hunk didn't blink twice as Shiro pulled the omega against him, but Keith wasn't having it. Rising to his feet, he jogged the few steps to catch up with the pair. Looping his arm around Lance's waist, he forced a small smile

"Let's get you to bed"

 With Lance deposited in his bed, Keith went to tuck the omega in, only for Shiro to grab his wrist

"I'll do it"

"It's fine"

"Keith, I said I'll do it"

"And I told you it's fine"

Snarling, Shiro shoved him so hard that Keith ended up tripping over backwards 

"What the quiznak man?! I was just trying to help"

"Trying to help? You were making a pass at my bitch!"

"Lance isn't yours"

The look that crossed Shiro's face turned Keith's blood cold. Scrambling to his feet, he stood his ground

"Lance isn't your bitch! He's a human being"

"No. He's mine! I've already laid claim to him"

"I don't see your bonding mark on him"

"It's only a matter of time. He's pregnant with my pups after all"

Keith staggered slightly

"What?!"

"Can't you smell it on him? I bred him, and there's nothing you can do about it"

"You're lying"

"Admit it little alpha, there's no place for you here. He's going to birth my pups, and they'll tear him apart as he does"

Seeing red, Keith threw himself at Shiro

"You bastard!"

Having fallen into the trap of swearing with Altean words, it felt good to use actual swearing for a change. Laughing off Keith's first blow, Shiro sidestepped it with ease

"You've got to do better than that!"

He'd been an idiot. Hunk's moonshine had dulled his senses, grabbing his knife from his belt, he straightened himself up

"Should I tell you how it felt? How warm and wet he was? Or good he felt around my knot"

Roaring, Keith lashed out blindly. Parrying with ease, Shiro grabbed him by the wrist, snapping it with ease. Howling in pain, Keith drove his knife into Shiro's leg as he struggled free

"You're dead, you hear me! Dead!"

 "Stop it!"

 Screaming out, Lance moved to stagger between them

"Stop it!"

"Lance, get out of the way"

"Yeah Lance, move. This is a fight between alphas"

"No! That's enough"

Shiro didn't seem to agree with Lance. Grabbing him by his shirt, Shiro threw Lance across the room. The teen smacking solidly into the corner of his desk, before crumpling to floor

"Lance!"

"Leave him!"

Ignoring Shiro's command, Keith rushed to Lance, only to be grabbed by Shiro's bionic hand and hurled backwards. Panting hard, Keith tried to push himself up 

"Don't you dare lay a finger on Lance"

Laughing, Shiro crossed over to him, the alpha driving his boot into Shiro's face

"Pesky little alpha's should be seen and not heard"

Driving his boot into Keith's face again, Keith's whole world turned black.

  *

Waking up, Keith struggled against whatever was binding him. Wriggling desperately, all he could think of was Lance. Something was very wrong with Shiro, and he feared for Shiro's safety

"Look, he's awake"

Whatever had been covering his face was pulled away, and Keith recoiled from the sight in front him. He was sitting on Lance's desk chair, and directly across from Lance laid bloody in his bed

"Now tell him"

"Shiro"

"Tell him Lance!"

Flinching at the alpha's tone, Lance nodded slowly 

"Keith. I love Shiro. I'm having his pups. I know you think I like you, but I don't"

"And"

"And when the pups are born, I'm leaving with Shiro"

What total bullshit. He would have told Lance so if his mouth hadn't been gagged

"If you so much as tell anyone about this, I will kill him. I'll kill him and leave his cooling body in your bed"

It was clear Shiro wasn't joking

"Keith, tell him. Tell him you won't tell! Please!"

Mocking Lance's words, Shiro parroted them back 

"Yeah Keith, tell him"

He didn't want to cave. His alpha was beyond furious and he wanted to tear Shiro's throat out with his bare teeth, but he couldn't do anything to help Lance unless he did. Nodding slowly, Shiro smiled down at him

"Good choice"

Walking over to him, Keith tensed like a snake ready to strike, only Shiro didn't move to untie him, instead the alpha knocked him out with a solid right hook.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

WAD 90 FULL DRAFT

Circling over the planet where the gala had been held, Lance was having a hard time. Red's scanners hadn't picked up any humanoid life forms on the planet, and he couldn't even find the amphitheater, or any evidence of it even being there. Voicing his concerns, Red practically shrugged them off as she took it upon herself to perform a controlled descent, and landed solidly in a patch of which seemed to be completely unappealing brambles. Space was literally ruining nature for him. Couldn't they just go to nice rock planet, where he didn't have to risk his life or find some stupid rare herb, or killer rat? "Red, I know I don't need to ask you, because I trust you, but can you please make sure these two don't escape or get themselves in any trouble... I need to find who hurt the others, because it doesn't feel right not having them or the other lions by my side" Sliding from his chair to the floor, he crawled over to his boys "Right. I want you two to behave for Red. That means no playing with her controls or kicking her. She's really important to mummy and daddy, and I don't want anything happening to her. Mummy has to go find out a very bad person and he hates leaving you alone, but you're much safer here than with him. Now you've had your feed, and you've been changed, so no crying and mummy will be right back. I love you guys so much" Kissing both his "uncaring" sons goodbye, they continued playing with their mobile rather than caring he was leaving "Right Red. Let's do this!"

Lance was still extracting brambles from his uniforms as he made his way into thicker growth. He'd held off activating his Bayard, and now completely regretted it. Also. The planet was stinking hot during the day, like a summers day without a breeze, and even the shadows of the trees offered no relief. Working on the assumption that Red had landed in the same position as that night, he was now trying to trace his steps back the best he could remember,  but honestly, he'd been way too excited about the gala when they'd arrived, and way too happy in Keith's arms when they'd left. Even just thinking of his husband hurt, and he was honestly surprised how calm he'd been. Maybe calm wasn't the right word, but he hadn't give up. He'd kept up his duties, and he'd even flown all over the galaxy for his team, pretty much alone an unaided. Laneith made a terrible navigator, and Kelance an even worse technician. Neither of them able to communicate with him, and both of them more than happy to cry. Laughing at his own joke, he pushed through further and further into the dense flora, until he was sure he'd gone too far. Trying to turn back, everything look different from what he'd just passed... so he turned back around again. Forward. He should keep moving forward.

Forward was the right choice. He didn't even notice the rippling effect in front of him, but he did notice the way the world changed the moment he passed through between two towering trees. As the small hairs covering his body stood on end, a feeling filled the base of his stomach. A feeling that told him he was finally on the right path... or something. It was the same feeling he got when they were in the rift. Something out there was trying to tell him something. Only. He had no idea what. Like a sniffer dog tracing a scent, all he could do was follow that feeling, which lead him to eventually emerge in the amphitheater that he'd been looking for in the first place. Activating his Bayard, he scanned the immediate area, only to find nothing. What was the use of having a "super power" if the stupid thing didn't just tell him what was going on? All he could do was edge forward, missing the way the space behind him seemed to darken and warp. He had no idea he wasn't alone, right up to the moment a bright blue bolt came out of nowhere and hit him squarely in the chest, knocking him off his feet in the process. A second bright blue shot followed the first half a tick later, leaving him rolling and scrambling "It's ok! I'm with Voltron! You can't stop shooting me!" Or maybe they'd shoot him more? Either way, he needed to find them... whoever them was...

Thanks to his armour, the shot hadn't penetrated through and into his chest. Switching from his gun to his sword, he narrowed his eyes as he scanned for any sort of clue "Are you the one who poisoned everyone?! Who tried to kill my friends?!" Slowling his spin, he felt the feeling in his gut glare, so he lunged towards the spot, swinging his blade down with all the force he could. Instead of hitting thin air, his blade met something hard, and for the first time since he'd been able to form the damn thing, it didn't cut through whatever it was "Found you!" With whatever it was preventing his blade from arching down, he kicked out at what he thought would be knee level, hitting something that let out a surprisingly human sounding squeak "If you don't want me to kill you right here, I suggest you lose the cloaking device" "Aw man. You're no fun" A girl. He'd tried to hit a girl?! What?! In front of him, the space flickered and the form of a young woman with brilliantly flowing white hair formed, her impish grin, and brown skin had him leaping back with a confused gasp "Allura?!" Rushing him, the woman pushed him down, and he realised though she was Altean and looked almost identical to Allura, it wasn't actually her "You know Allura?!" "Of course I know Allura. You know Allura?" Less than gently the girl dropped her bow, the bow that had stopped his sword, and ripped his helmet off. The look on her face was hilarious, or would have been if it hadn't swapped from shock to anger so fast "Tell me how you know Allura! Who are you?!" "Who am I? Who are you?" "I'm the one asking questions!" "And I'm the one who's pinned beneath you?" Letting out a huffy puff, the girl grabbed a blade from belt, the edge against his throat before he knew what was happening "Speak" "Fine! Fine! I'm Lance. I work with Allura!" "Fine then. Lance who works with Allura, you will take me to her" "What? Why would I do that?" "Because I must see her!" This girl was nut job. That was his only explanation. She was crazy and he was stuck with her "Look, if you put the blade down, we can talk" "I don't want to talk to anyone but Allura" "I can't just take you to her! If you know her, you know she can't just accept visitors!" "You said you were her friend, or were you lying?" "I wasn't lying! Look, get off me. I came here looking for some one" "Who?" "If I knew who it was, I wouldn't be looking for them!" Lance ran the words back through his mind... yep. He made no sense "Where is Allura?!" "She's on the castle of lions!" "So she's on Altea?" "Altean was destroyed" The blade was pressed harder against his throat "Liar!" "I'm not lying! Everyone knows that!" "Enough. Take me to Allura, or I will take your lion and leave you dead" "That's not how it works. You have to form a connection with Red, which means, you can't kill me, because if you do, Red will fly back to the castle on her own, and you won't be able to see Allura" The strange Altean glared at him, before finally climbing off of him, and retrieving her bow. Stringing an arrow, she kept it firmly aimed at him as he gathered himself up with a huff "You must take me to the castle of lions, before it's too late" "I can't just bring you there. I don't even know your name" "Toral" "Toral?" "No, Toral. Now you know my name, we can go" Toral? What kind of a name was Toral? It was pronounced like Tore-Al... not Toral, like coral with a "t" "It doesn't work that way" "You just said!" "Argh! Do you know how annoying you are?!" "Me! You won't even help me!" "Because for all I know, you could have poisoned my friends!" "I did! With good reason!" "You did what?!" "That's not important..." "Not important! You killed people! You nearly killed my husband!" "I promise I will explain, one I see Allura" "You poisoned her! I doubt she's going to want to see you!" "Whaaaaa..." "What do you mean "whaaa?!". You don't get to "whaaaa!" I get to "whaaaa!"" "What is wrong with you?! Were you dropped on your head or something?" "That's it. I'm shooting you" "You said you'd take me to Allura" "You just admitted you poisoned her!" "Not on purpose, she just happened to... no. No. I'm onto you. I won't tell you anything" It was like having a fight with Veronica, completely obnoxious, but at least Veronica was related to him and they loved each other. Toral... Toral made him want to scream.

Staring at Toral, Lance took a deep breath. The woman didn't look that all... maybe she was going through her bratty stage. She'd openly admitted to poisoning everyone, and she was the only one going on. He didn't like it, but he needed to control the situation, and he couldn't do that in an alien landscape "Give me your bow" "Why?" "If you want to see Allura, you need to give me your bow" "And then you'll take me?" "I will. But be warned, she can be vicious to those who hurt her family" Toral rolled her eyes "I have no idea what she sees in a brat like you" "It's a good thing you'll be able to ask her in person. Now hand it over" Pouting Toral relented, handing him the bow "Other than the knife, is there any other weapons I should be aware of" "I'll leave that to your imagination" That was most certainly a yes. She definitely wasn't staying anywhere near the boys. Once he got her in the cargo hold, he'd have to ask Red to some how seal her in. He wanted to save everyone, and he wanted answers, but he wanted his kids safe even more. Keeping his Bayard activated, he pointed towards where he though he'd come in "I assume you saw me land, and know the way towards the Red lion" "Maybe" "Then the sooner you start walking, the sooner you get to see Allura" Pulling something from her pocket, Toral clicked it like one would a garage or car remote, and the world around them shimmered "Now what are you doing?!" "I thought you had to be smart to be a Paladin, didn't you notice things were a little different around here?" "Of course I noticed. Wait. That was you?!" "Took you long enough" He wasn't going to kill Toral... but if she tripped and fell on her own blade, he wasn't exactly sure he'd rush to help "Let's just go. It's a long way back" "You're going to take to Allura, aren't you?" "I said I was" "If you turn again me..." "Yeah. Yeah. You don't scare me" He was actually terrified of her. If there were more Altean's like Toral hidden away somewhere, heaven help the universe. She'd completely shattered all his illusions of them being feisty and beautiful like Allura and Alfor... and Coran in his own way. Who was he kidding? Coran's flowing orange locks, and super silky manly moustache were magnificent... though he'd never try to recreate it, and prayed Keith wouldn't either. Finding himself falling behind Toral, he hastened his pace, trying to appear like he was in total control of the situation.

* The universe hated him. He'd mentally explained the situation to Red the moment he and Toral had gotten into her, his lion curious about another Altean appearing, but didn't seem to like her at all. Toral... Toral had taken one look at his sons and scrunched her face up. It wasn't his fault they were crying and that she couldn't handle something that simple. Stressing out, he'd gathered up his boys, while Toral leant against his chair like she belonged there, demanding an explanation about why there were two babies in Red, and questioning if Red was really the Red Lion. Red hadn't taken the insult well. Lance didn't even need to power her up, she did it all on her own, throwing herself into a steep rise, that threw Toral back against the cargo bay door... and straight into the cargo hold. She'd been holed up there for whole trip now, and she'd done nothing but yell and pound on the door the whole time.

Toral had stamina. Landing Red in her hangar, it felt like he'd been out in space for deca-phoebes and he was exhausted. The constant pounding and yelling left the twins scared and confused, and his body had finally decided it'd had enough of pushing himself, his whole stomach region was tender and nausea had set in. Deciding Toral could stand to wait a little longer, Lance gathered his boys up off the floor as Red opened her mouth for him. Waiting for him was Ryner, which was nice. Coming back home was always nicer when someone was there to welcome him back "Hey Ryner. Any trouble?" "Just a little, but nothing you won't be able to solve for us" "What? What's wrong?" "We've begun waking and administering doses to the patients held on the lower floors, but my team wasn't entirely sure how to open the pods containing the rest of Voltron. They insisted on not chancing it, just on the off chance something were to go wrong" He could understand and appreciate that "I've got to settle these two down, and the deal with Toral. After that, I'll be right up and I'll talk them through what I'm doing, just in case you need to know for the future" "Thank you. May I enquire as to who or what Toral is?" Lance groaned "Toral is a pain in the quiznak, and she's also the one who poisoned everyone. She insisted on seeing Allura, and refused to speak to me about everything happening" "You found the culprit?" "Yeah. She's stuck in Red at the moment. Those two really don't get along" "Will you be requiring assistance?" "Actually, that would be awesome. I have no idea how I'm going to get her down to the cells. She might be a brat, but she's tough" Ryner let out an honest to goodness chuckle that made his heart swell. He felt like they'd established a good working relationship since this fiasco had begun, and he'd kind of come to see her as a grandmother figure... not that he'd ever tell her "Would you like us to sedate her?" "Yes. No... I don't know. I don't know what's she's carrying on her, or why she's here. Sedating her might just make her mad" "If she's that dangerous, she needs to be handled carefully" "Exactly" Falling into step with each other, they headed from Red's hangar. He was so relieved people were finally starting to recover, but couldn't help feel like he'd brought a time bomb into the castle. His thoughts were so distracting, he didn't even notice Ryner had at some point left him, and that he'd made his way down to the nursery practically blind. First he needed to clean his sons up. Then they could go for a nap, while he took care of Toral, and taught the scientists how to work the pod system... then he'd need to make the boys a bottle. Keith had missed another milestone. They'd both been there when the twins had finally started crawling, but now the boys were cutting teeth and his nipples were scabby messes.

Showers are good for the soul. He was sure someone out there had said so at some point, and even if it'd only been a very quick shower, it'd definitely helped loosen his lower back muscles. His stomach still felt revolting, but he'd take that over stiff muscles any quintant of the movement. With both pups settled in Kelance's cot, Lance dressed in a clean uniform and headed back through the castle and back to Red's hangar. Standing near Red's front left paw, 5 burly Olkaris looked almost impatient as he finally joined them. Letting Red nudge into his mind, he nodded his consent to her, and waited for her mouth to lower. Once it had, it was only a few short moments before Toral came running down, screaming like a banshee as she went right for him "How dare you do that to me?! You were supposed to take me to Allura! I'm going to kill you!" "Toral, welcome to the Castle of Lions. Allura is currently busy, but I have a few friends here to help me out" "What?! What do you mean she's busy?! You told me I could see her" Crouched behind Red's foot, one of the Olkari lined Toral up, as Lance activated his Bayard and parried the angry blow she threw at him. There was a soft whistling noise, before a tranquilliser dart buried itself in the woman's neck. Her eyes widened comically as she wasn't able to stop herself, and went sprawling across the hangar floor "You liar!" "I'm not a liar, I'm just trying to protect my family. I promise you can see Allura, but we have to make sure everything's safe first" Toral's head hit the floor, and the girl passed out in an ungainly heap "Thanks for your help" "Ryner said we were to assist you with moving her to a cell?" "Oh. Sweet. I don't think I could carry her, but I can lead the way" Two of the Olkari came over and lifted Toral from the floor. A quite Toral was weird. He didn't know why, but it just seemed so wrong. He had the impression the girl had a passion and fire inside of her, and didn't know when to shut up and just go along with the flow. Falling in behind the group, Lance directed them down to the holding cells, all the while the pain in his stomach getting worse with every step and he barely made it to where Toral would be held, before falling to his knees and whimpering in pain. The Olkari surrounding him were immediately and clearly torn. They were there to help him, and he'd collapsed? And now they had him and an unconscious Altean to deal with. He highly doubted this was how they saw their day going when they crawled out of bed "Red Paladin?" "I'm fine. Sorry" He tried to struggle to his feet, only increasing the pain in his stomach "Sorry guys, it seems I'm a little stuck. Would one of you be able to please help me up?" The one with Toral went to, before realising he couldn't and nodding to his closest companion. Hefting him up into his arms, Lance squeaked at the sudden change of perspective "Oh. Thanks. If you place your palm on the pad next to the door, it should open. They're kind of good like that. Anyone can let someone in, but you need to be a Paladin to let someone out" The Olkari holding Toral did as instructed, carrying her into the cell and laying her gently down "What should we do with her weaponry?" "For now, we need to confiscate it" His sentence ended with a hiss. His body was a filthy traitor. All he needed was a few more doboshes, but that was asking too much. Carefully and respectively, Toral was patted down. As she didn't have her now, he figured it must still be in Red. In total the girl was carrying three blades. Two small pieces of tech he'd never seen. A necklace, and what seemed to be some kind of collapsible arrow housed in a small pouch built into her tunic top "We'll take those with us. I think I can stand now" "Nonsense. Ryner would not be impressed if we were to allow anything to happen to you" "It's just walking" "Red Paladin, do you not realise you are running a fever?" He was? When did that happen? "Oh..." "Oh is correct. I will carry you. It is no worry to me" "Are you sure? I'm not exactly light" "It is fine" "In that case, can you please take me up to the healing pods? I need to talk the team there through how to open a pod safely" "As you wish, but you should rest young Paladin" He was being so proper towards Lance, that Lance found himself speechless "I'll rest once my friends are ok" "You are as Ryner said" Now he was curious "Really? What did she say?" The man gave him a soft smile "You are very brave and very determined, but also very stubborn" "Well, she's right. I really can't deny it" Both of them let out a small laugh, gone the tension and awkwardness between him and the team of Olkari.

* Despite having talked the team through how to wake his friends up, Lance was fading fast, but he didn't want to spend another day without everyone around him. Asking if the Olkari could please transfer his team to the medical room instead of the hospital, Lance left Ryner overseeing everything while he went on his new mission. When everyone woke up, he wanted them to have their own blankets and pillows. He wanted them to know he cared, even if he hadn't remained by their sides. So he wandered around, first retrieving Shiro, Allura, Coran, Pidge and Hunk's things, dumping them in the medical bay, then heading down to pick up the boys, something for Keith to wear, and their own blankets. Thanks to the pain in his stomach, he pretty much reached the medical bay and died. He couldn't walk. He couldn't crawl. He couldn't even wriggle. He just laid curled on his side rather pathetically, as the boys climbed from his hold and into the medical room. Quiznak. It hurt like hell, and he didn't know what was going on. If this was Toral's fault...

Laying on the floor, Lance was half convinced this was his life now. Each time the pain would lessen, he'd try and move, only to bring it crashing back like a wave. The boys had crawled over to the blankets and pillows he'd deposited earlier, and were now trying to climb up them to reach the top of the pile. As long as the were safe, all he had to do wait for someone else to show up... even if it seemed to be taking for ever. Unknown to him, he'd only been there for 10 doboshes when the two Olkari teams showed up with his unconscious friends in his hold. Blinking up at them, he tried to force a smile "Uh. Hey guys... funny story. I'm kind of stuck" The look he got was one of both confusion and then wondering if this was some kind of joke "Do you require assistance?" "If it's no trouble..." Brushing past the front Olkari, a different man from the same team that had taken down Toral, came to his aid, lifting him to his feet... only for him to yelp and sag. Sighing, the Olkari lifted him off his feet and carried him to the closest examination bed "What is going on with you Red Paladin?" "Uh... I probably ate something bad... it'll pass. I'm sorry for inconveniencing you" "Lance! You were supposed to be resting" Oh shit. Sprung. Even the Olkari staring at him looked slightly fearful at Ryner's tone "He was laying on the floor" "Dobber" Sighing heavily, Ryner moved to stand in front of him "You said you would rest" "And I will. In here. With them. Ryner, I know you don't fully understand our dynamics, but I really need to be with them, especially right now" Ryner's mental sigh was practically audible "As you are short on bed's how do you propose you all rest?" "You'll let me stay?" "I can hardly deny you rest in the one room equipped best for recovery" "Ryner! You are awesome! So like, I know it seems super weird, but on Earth, omegas make nests, and floor here's fine for that, it's going to be like one really big nest" She wasn't convinced at all "Basically we lay blankets out, and all sleep together. Not like together together, but next to each other" "So we lay blankets out?" "Yeah. The ones from here are all the light blue green ones, they go on the floor, then everyone is covered with their own blankets... I probably sound insane... but it really will help" Having to stop every few words, Ryner gave a nod to her team, before moving to cut them completely from his view. Even with all the scents of his friends, his omega still wasn't calming down. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she stared into his eyes, causing him to swallow. She deserved the truth "I... I don't actually know what's wrong. I mean. My stomach hurts like I'm in heat, but I have none of the other symptoms. Keith and I... well, we had bad news. I was exposed to a really high dose of pure quintessence and it caused damage. We... we were going to get Coran to do a scan, but everything has been hectic. I don't know if it is heat related or just because I miss everyone so badly and my omega is having some kind of breakdown, or if I ate something bad or something. I just really need to be with my team..." "You should have told me before" "I know. It's just... Shiro would be mad if I told the leader of a planet I feel sick. Ok. I know we're really tight allies, but he'd still get all mad and would find it disrespectful. I know you know he and I have a past, so sometimes my fear of him gets the better of me. And it wasn't until I got back to the castle I started feeling bad" "I would feel much better if you let me do some tests" "Not now... not without Keith. I know it probably doesn't sound like much, but we're working really hard to make things work and I keep shutting him out of things like this. So he needs to be there" "Things sound complicated" "You have no idea..." "I might have some. Tomorrow, once Keith awakens, then we shall run some tests" "Tomorrow" "We need to run tests on the Paladins to make sure they are completely fine, we can easily perform tests on you after. Though, I must warn you, they will be feeling lethargic for the next few movements" "Thank you Ryner... I honestly don't know what I would have done without you. You've been so good to me, and you've really helped and I know I just sound like an idiot, but I'm really grateful" "I know you are. Now, you brought down your team mates things, but what belongs to who?"

Directing the Olkari, the "nest" ended up so it went Shiro, Allura, Coran, Keith, Lance, the twins, Hunk and then Pidge. All his family safe and breathing, and most importantly, he had his husband curled around him, soothing his omega as he cried quietly. He'd missed them all beyond words, and now they were together again.