#also also. fun tidbit about how i manage to keep crawling out of the bed with all of my back-muscles cramping the fuck up.

[racke7]

Results from a second pill.

It took a little bit more of the edge off, and I tried to sleep. Spent nearly an hour rolling over, trying to relax in a position that didn't hurt (if I relaxed, it would immediately start to hurt). Finally went unconscious for maybe another hour, and then woke up in pain again.

Didn't want to keep trying to roll over, because I'm miserable now, so I crawled out of bed. Everything still hurt, I now have a headache, and I'm almost morphin-nauseous.

So that's my take on taking a second pill. Fucking don't.

[muertawrites]

Two Halves - Chapter Fourteen (Zuko x Reader)

Chapter 13

Word Count: 2,400

Author’s Note: I’m not gonna say much about this one other than a few fun little tidbits from my creative process. I have a headcanon that the Firelady would’ve ended up with Kuei if she hadn’t married Zuko, and I wanted to make Druk’s collection forks, but since there are no forks in the Avatar universe (which is a strange little statement), I had to change it. Enjoy (and also I’m sorry [not sorry]).

~ Muerta

You awake in Zuko’s arms, his head nestled heavily within the crook of your neck. For a moment, your mind wanders, groping about the unfamiliar space around you as it tries to make sense of its surroundings. The bed cradling you isn’t yours, the sheets twined around your legs feeling entirely new; the large windows to your right and crimson canopy fluttering in the breeze they admit don’t belong to your bedroom. This is Zuko’s room, where you fell asleep the previous night after returning to the palace. 

You sigh sleepily as you extend your arms and legs, stretching your muscles while your memory aligns through your grogginess. Nightmares rocked your sleep not long after you hit your mattress, and you crawled into Zuko’s bed seeking his comfort. He hushed and held you and eased you out of your terror, forming a fortress around you with his tall, strong body. He made you feel safe. He made you feel loved. 

“Firelord Zuko!” 

Rina’s shrill, panicked chirping from the other room breaks you from your haze. Zuko, light sleeper that he is, wakes with a start, blinking in a fluster before sitting up, immediately alert. 

“I can’t find her!” Rina cries, her voice drawing nearer. “The Firelady’s missing! She’s not in her room, and the servants-” 

She halts as she thrusts open the doors to Zuko’s bedroom, her fearful expression dropping into one of wide-eyed surprise and embarrassment. She falters only for a moment, however, composing herself as quickly as she fumbled and bowing apologetically. 

“Forgive me,” she says, keeping her gaze cast downward; you manage to glimpse the tail of a smirk as it curls around her cheek. “I wasn’t aware she was with you.” 

“It’s alright, Rina,” Zuko yawns, relaxed once again now that the threat of possible danger is gone. “Good morning.” 

Rina straightens her back, making a point of looking only at you. You hadn’t noticed it last night when you joined him, but Zuko is naked from the waist up; the realization makes you blush, the skin all over your body raising to a fever. 

“Will you require me to help you prepare for the day?” Rina asks you. Amusement still twitches in her lips, a taunting gleam in her eye; you fight the urge to grab the pillow nearest to you and fling it at her. 

“I’ll meet you in my room in ten minutes,” you tell her, and she nods, bowing once more as she slips from the room. You know she’ll want the details of your night with your husband, and you prepare yourself for her disappointment when you break to her that the circumstances were entirely innocent. 

Zuko falls back into the sheets, burying his face in his pillow in an attempt to make the most of the last dregs of his slumber; he reaches for you, his arm wrapping around your middle and pulling you in, compelling you to do the same. You let out a quiet breath of laughter as you comply, noting the way his expression eases when your body meets his. 

“Do we have to do this?” you whisper as the day’s impending events form in your mind. 

He hums, pressing his nose back into the space it occupied before his sleep was interrupted; his lips graze your neck, your skin rising in millions of minute peaks at the sensation.

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “Unfortunately.” 

You run your fingers pensively through his hair, loose from its typical knot and falling in cascades of black ink around his bare shoulders and back. He shivers, his hand finding the exposed skin of your thigh under your night dress and stroking his thumb tenderly over the flesh. 

“Don’t let them force me,” you plead. “I won’t do it. I don’t think I even can.” 

“You’ve never given into them before,” Zuko reminds you. “This won’t be any different.” 

Beside your setting at breakfast, you find a letter addressed from Kuei. You grin as you read it, instantly missing his gentle sarcasm and subdued demeanor, but finding comfort in your thoughts of him.

My dearest Firelady,

I've just heard of Aang and Katara’s wonderful announcement and had to write my congratulations. How exciting it will be to have a little niece or nephew! I've already sent forth gifts on behalf of my kingdom and myself.

However, I do also write my concern. Having met your council, I can say quite honestly that I do not trust them - I fear that in the wake of such pivotal news, your advisors may attempt to steer you into decisions that aren't theirs to make. 

Firelord Zuko loves you dearly, that much is clear to me. I trust in my heart of hearts that he's caring for you in his uniquely attentive way. I also love you dearly, and it is with this love that I inquire about your health. Are you taking precautions? Are you standing your ground in regards to your actions? (I know you are.) Are you caring for yourself as much as we who love you care for you? Please answer in detail - I cannot stand the worry. 

On a more serious note (or perhaps no less serious, but an entirely different vein of seriousness altogether) we have heard of your meeting and its subsequent revelations from the warden of Azula’s compound, and have begun tracking and arresting as many Dai Li as we can in order to question them. Those in custody have given us very little, and our informants within have revealed possible collaborators with the former princess, though we have no strong leads. We've even launched an investigation into Ozai’s prison, but have come up with nothing as of this moment in which I write to you which connects him to any of the matters at hand. 

My sweetest little friend, I fret for you so. I think of you always, and have taken to consulting daily with the Spirits after the well-being of yourself and your husband (a practice you know I have never engaged in, but as of late, it feels like the only thing I can do). 

Promise me you will keep safe and sound, but in the fearless way I so admire you for. 

Sincerely and forever yours, 

Kuei

Zuko huffs as he reads over your shoulder, biting into his meal with a bit too much force.

“He talks to you like he's your lover,” he mutters. 

You smirk, folding the letter into the breast of your robes. 

“I thought you liked Kuei?” you needle, taking a slow sip of your tea. 

“I do,” Zuko replies. “I just like him better when you're not around.”

As you enter the meeting room, you make a point of keeping your chin held upright, your gaze steady. Advisor Qiang watches you in his typical, scrutinizing way, while Advisors Sung and Yong greet you kindly. Zuko takes your hand as he lowers himself into his place beside you. 

“Firstly,” Yong opens, “I want to give my congratulations to the both of you on your new addition to the family.” 

“Thank you,” Zuko replies with a nod. “We’re all very excited.” 

“Of course,” Sung interjects, “the announcement also raises questions about your own heirs, and when you plan for them to arrive.” 

“Yes,” Yong agrees. “In typical royal marriages, children would already be on their way; but we all understand that yours is not a typical royal marriage.” 

She gives a pointed look towards the international affairs advisors and their aids, which is met with a sharp twitch of Qiang’s brow. 

“The question remains one of public reception,” he quips. “I, for one, believe it would enrage those among the Fire Nation population who remain purists.” 

“But, of course, domestic concerns are my responsibility,” Yong counters, “and I believe a child would bring more cohesion to the image of our Lord and Lady’s marriage - especially to those who are doubtful.” 

“You all seem to forget,” Zuko chimes in, his voice smooth and calm, “that none of you will be carrying or raising this baby.” 

Each of the council members turns their heads towards you, as if suddenly remembering you're there. 

“Whether or not we have children is our decision,” you state, “and our decision alone. We won’t allow the people we bring into this world to be used as political pawns.” 

“Political involvement is unavoidable,” Qiang scoffs, glowering at you. “You're foolish to think you can dictate whether the inheritants of the nation remain neutral.” 

“We can,” you contest, meeting his belittling tone with one of soft determination. “Firelord Zuko and I wish that royal children no longer inherit their station - successors to the throne will no longer be elected by blood, but by vetting from the council.”

The room falls deathly silent. For an excruciating moment, your advisors stare at you in shock, their bodies frozen as if carved in stone. 

“That has never been done before,” Yong finally says. 

“Neither has a Firelord’s marriage to a member of another nation,” Zuko replies. “The war is over. We can't continue to live as if it isn't.” 

“Why would you want to change the operation of the government so drastically?” Sung wonders. 

“Because our rule is not a dictatorship,” you answer. “In the Water Tribe, the chief is always appointed by members of the community - we choose who will govern us for the benefit of everyone. Since the Firelord’s council is chosen by the people, we believe it will best decide who should take over the throne upon our retirement.” 

“We don't want to continue the system my father and grandfathers created,” Zuko adds. “Putting a vetting process in place will ensure that nothing like the Hundred Year War ever happens again. And even besides that, we all know that trying to live up to a title was what destroyed my family. I don’t want to repeat that cycle.” 

“The Fire Nation has always been a monarchy,” Qiang resists. “The global repercussions of such a drastic change could be catastrophic - you’ll look weak.” 

“They’ll look compassionate,” Yong tosses back. “Our people already benefit from having a Firelord who wants to lead for the sake of leadership; distributing the power further will help to erase Ozai’s mark on history. I think it's excellent.” 

You return your attention to Qiang, fixing him with the same searching, calculating gaze he's so accustomed to using. Though his expression remains stoic, the glare of his pupils reveal rage, their wild, acute fizzling back and forth conveying a panic that you're certain isn't for the sake of his government or his people. After a moment he nods; you know his surrender is only temporary. 

“It will take time,” is all he says. 

He shares a glance with Sung. Beneath the table, you grip Zuko’s hand in a vice. 

The evening is cool; cool enough that Zuko bends a sizable fire in the hearth of your sitting room to fight the chill. You curl up with him on a gathering of blankets and cushions at the mouth of the flames, leaned back against his chest as you share your nightly pot of tea. Druk nuzzles his way between you into Zuko’s lap, dropping a flat, round stone onto his leg. He chuckles as the dragon disappears under a table in the corner, emerging with another, similar stone which he presents to you. 

“He's starting a collection,” Zuko explains. “Uncle sent me some of his old books on dragons. They keep collections of different things. Apparently Druk likes rocks.” 

You smile as Druk shimmies once again into the space between you, purring contentedly as he burrows into the fabric where your robes meet. Zuko absently scratches at the space behind his ears. 

“We should take a honeymoon,” you suggest.

“A what?” 

You turn to face him, furrowing your brows in confusion. 

“A honeymoon,” you repeat. “It's something that newlyweds do - after the wedding, the bride and groom go on a trip together so they can spend time alone as husband and wife.” 

“Is that a Water Tribe thing?” Zuko asks. 

You smirk, shaking your head. 

“They do it in the Earth Kingdom, too,” you tell him. “Sorry, I forgot that the Fire Nation spent a century without anything nice or fun.” 

Zuko pinches you in the side, causing you to erupt with giggles. He grins at the reaction, reaching to brush a few stray locks of hair away from your face. 

“We should do that,” he agrees. “We can go to Ember Island. My family has a house there where we used to go in the summer. It's where we stayed before the comet.” 

His expression becomes wistful, and you lay a hand on the side of his neck, tenderly stroking his skin; you can tell the memories are as painful as they are warm. 

“I would love that,” you murmur, chastely kissing his lips. “Maybe we can pretend we’re normal for a few days.” 

Zuko chuckles, then with a sigh rests his forehead against yours; he gazes at you for a long moment, his hands resting on your hips and gripping just a little bit tighter, pulling you just a little bit closer. 

“Kiss me again,” he whispers. “... For real.” 

You search his eyes, looking for anything that will spark your doubt; all you find is exaltation, so quiet and yielding you can hardly bring yourself to fight him. You don't think twice about the command, your lips finding his in the scant space between you. 

As you kiss him, your body lights with fireworks. Every one of your senses seems heightened, your body rippling with embers of a flame that grows stronger the nearer he gets. His lips are soft against yours, the taste of his skin sweet on the edge of your tongue; his chest presses firmly to yours, his hands on your back attempting to pull you nearer despite the impossibility of such an act. You can feel his breath quickening to match his heartbeat, each movement aligned with your own. 

You're broken apart by the rapping of knuckles on the sitting room door, followed immediately by Rina’s entrance. She bows hurriedly simply out of respect - her lack of reaction to your intimate position piques a deep, hollow dread in your gut. 

“Firelord Zuko,” she addresses him. “I’m sorry to come to you so late, but the head of the royal guard just received word from the warden - Azula is dead.” 

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[kariachi]

Martin Mystery commission for @thenixkat!! A 10k rewrite of Hairier and Scarier, now featuring more Tonio and sorority girls!

Martin had, at first, been displeased with the Center work station that had been stowed away in his dorm as an alternative to giving him a raise. Diana had tried to convince him this was the better deal, but there was no way on the bright blue ball that was Earth he believed it. Even now, he would’ve preferred the extra five grand a year that had been tossed the others’ way. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t about to take full advantage.

“Check it out, Jav! The inside scoop on all of Torrington’s hottest hotties!”

Having a personal computer of any sort was handy. It gave him the opportunity to write stuff out and store it away without needing to take up physical space, which was especially useful when one was trying to gather as much information with which to impress girls as physically possible. With how important his studies of the paranormal, supernatural, and just magic in general were, there simply wasn’t enough space in his brain to remember all the little tidbits of information he managed to gather about, not just hotties, but also his friends and the occasional boy Tonio was into. And Center computers? Were all set and ready to make files on individuals, a program Martin was using with gleeful abandon.

He was very proud of himself for his work. Doubly so for how well he’d hidden it all. These files were all hidden in the folder he used to store his original fiction, which itself was labeled ‘Case Notes 4-73X-52K’. It was as secure as he could make it without arousing suspicion.

“Betty here,” he said as he showed off his work, “is president of the chick flick fan club, and guess who’s got two tickets to the premiere of Tears of a Teenage Beauty Queen?” He threw a smile at Java as he took out and waved said tickets, receiving a wide grin in return.

“Very smooth.”

“Thank you. Now,” he stowed the tickets back away and moved on to the next file, “meet Maria. Her locker is lined with posters of Rad Bradford- the world’s top male eyebrow model. You know, people say I have brows just like his.”

“If you say so.” It wasn’t the most encouraging response, but okay. Next file.

“And let’s not forget Louise- her favorite color is fuchsia, so wait until she sees me in this!” Martin pulled a floral print fuchsia shirt out of a bag by his chair, holding it up to himself. He had been warned against this color once before- against the whole pink-purple spectrum really- but he was not going to let the opinion of two sorority girls, given ages ago, stop him from getting a foot in with a hot girl. It wasn’t gonna happen.

“Nice shirt, for a limbo contest.” He also was not going to let his sister’s opinions stop him, but that was a vow going back several years. Java turned at Diana’s entrance with a smile. Martin ignored her, as was the proper brotherly way. Besides, he had other things to worry about- like ‘should I gun for a forth girl, just in case, given my track record’. It was a new technique he was trying, if going hard after one girl at a time wasn’t giving him results, maybe going less after more girls would give him more luck…

“Martin Mystery!” And she was going to sick her nose in it, of course. “You can’t use Center equipment for your own personal dating scams!” For a brief instant the smart-ass in him wanted to point out that he also sometimes used it to help Tonio get dates, though the thought was snuffed out quickly. Instead he just returned her glower.

“Why not? It’s not like anyone’s gonna find out.” He had this on lockdown, the only weak link in security was Diana herself and

And MOM’s face replaced Louise’s on the screen.

Fuck.

“I’m never quite sure,” she said as Martin felt every individual cell in his body try to back away, “whether you underestimate me or overestimate yourself, Martin.” She looked pissed. In a moment of panic Martin began trying to close the file, or bring up another file, or do anything really that would get that look off his screen. It didn’t work. Nothing worked. Diana, beside him, looked too damn smug, probably with the timing as much as anything. Java was edging away. MOM glared harder.

“Meet me in my office, Agent Mystery.”

~~~

Whoever oversaw maintenance for cell block C ought to have been taken out and shot. There was no way all of those cells could’ve gotten that dirty with regular cleaning, it just wasn’t physically possible. The doors, the walls, the floors, everything was covered in patches and puddles of muck and grime and other things that it made even Martin’s skin crawl to think about. And given the cleaning supplies at his feet, and the look MOM was giving him, he had the sinking suspicion this was all about to be his problem.

“Perhaps after cleaning the cages you’ll think twice about misusing Center equipment.”

“Ya know,” Martin replied, even as a voice in the back of his head told him he was pushing his luck, “why don’t I just go think about it now?” If anything MOM’s gaze got firmer.

“I can double the task if you feel like playing games, Martin.” It was no wonder she’d gotten the designation MOM, getting reprimanded by her was just as bad as by his own mother. For a moment he felt like he was six again, being stared down as he suggested donating all his clothes to charity so he could fit more comic books in his closet.

Was not a fun feeling.

“Sorry you got busted, dude,” Billy said, hovering to his side as MOM walked away. There was nothing Martin could do but sigh.

“A fair price to pay,” he said, not really feeling it, “MOM’s not gonna delete everything I had on there, is she?” He wasn’t holding out hope for his files, but… Billy gave him a smile and a pat on the shoulder.

“Your stories are safe and sound,” he said, and a bit of weight lifted off Martin’s spine, “but you can’t put them under false labels anymore.”

“When you say ‘can’t’-”

“Don’t or MOM will just take the whole workstation. And you still won’t get a raise.”

“Damnit.” Martin huffed. That was just his luck. “Well, at least I’ve got you to help out, right Billy?”

“Nope.” He was still smiling. That was not something you said to a guy who was about to clean all of this and still smile! “I’ve got my own work to do.” As everything from Martin’s shoulders to spirits sank like a busted freighter, Billy patted him again and hovered passed him towards the exit. “Have fun, Martin!”

That. Traitor.

Martin groaned and looked around at the cages again. Filthy was an understatement, even he managed to keep a cleaner space than this. His mom would’ve pulled out the flamethrower again if she’d seen the mess in front of him. And it was all on Martin to clean it, by himself, with the occupants of the cages still there. What was MOM trying to do, kill him?

“Well,” he said to himself as he spotted one- one- left empty and began to haul supplies to it, “might as well start with the easy cage.”

He didn’t have the authorization needed to open any of the cages in a single button press, and even MOM didn’t have the authorization to give him the authorization, so Martin was forced to type in his unique security password, plus the ‘punishment’ code- which explained why he was opening a cage and also barred him from opening any others until this one was shut and locked- followed by scanning his u-watch before the doors would open. The Center could afford overkill, but apparently not janitorial staff.

It was, he couldn’t help thinking, strange that this cell was as dirty as the rest of them despite having nothing in it. But then, if maintenance couldn’t be bothered to clean the cages that were in use, why would they touch the ones that weren’t. And he almost, almost, couldn’t blame them. These cages were well lit, but had nothing resembling an amenity outside a single bed that was, in all honesty, more like a bench than anything. No ventilation. No grates. This one in particular had a pile of shit off to one side and he was certain he was going to see more. There was just the bench, the tile floor, and a piece of paper taped to the back wall. It would’ve still been creepy and suffocating even without the mess.

Martin took a moment to check the piece of paper out, mostly because he wanted a distraction from his chore. It was an article! About him! About a werewolf capture he’d made what felt like ages ago. It even had a picture.

“Aw, someone was a fan.” Okay, that was a bright spot in his day. Kind of. If nothing else look at the angle in that photo, count on the guys from the Center’s weekly newsletter to get his good side. Still, something about the article rustled his jimmies, even as he settled in to start scrubbing some unidentifiable muck out of a back corner. There’d been something about that mission, it’d been a struggle and really unique and he found himself wracking his brain to remember why. It’d turned out to be a werewolf but there was something about it, it had been

A phantom. A phantom werewolf.

It’d been invisible.

Martin froze in his scrubbing, muscles going tense. He was alone, in a supposedly empty cage, that had an article on the wall about an invisible werewolf he’d put in here. His back was to the cage. He took a deep breath, moving slowly to place the rag he’d been using on the floor. The door was still open, he hadn’t seen a reason to close it, so. Best case scenario, nothing was in here, he was being paranoid. Next best case, it was asleep and he hadn’t woken it. Worst case, it was

There was a thud as something dropped from the ceiling.

Going with his first instinct, as soon as the werewolf hit the ground behind him Martin dove for the door, reeling back when it darted in front of him with a growl. Okay. Okay. It was between him and the door, all long limbs and dark fur and probably one hell of a grudge from the way it was growling.

“Hey there,” he said, plastering on the fakest smile he’d ever managed, “long time no see.” The growling got louder as it stalked closer. Martin tried to edge towards the door. “Look, clearly you don’t want me here, so how about I just leave, huh?”

To his utter lack of surprise, the werewolf did not step aside and let him walk out a free man. In a heartbeat it dove at him, knocking Martin to the ground as he clapped his hands around it’s wrists to hold back vicious claws and dodged away from snapping teeth inches from his nose. Fuck, the thing reeked as bad as it’s cage. Scrambling, he managed to get his feet planted against it’s belly and heaved, launching it across the cage and onto it’s back. Years of practice made it easy to jump to his feet, using the bench as a platform to bypass the monster as it recovered from the rough landing and flipped back over, just in time to grab his left arm as Martin bolted through the doors, setting off the automatic locking mechanism.

Oh god. Oh fuck. Oh shit.

Panic setting in, Martin grabbed his arm and began to heave against the werewolf’s grip, the machinery behind the plexiglass doors whirring as they applied gentle pressure along his arm where they’d have liked to be closing. A tiny piece of Martin’s brain took the time to be glad they weren’t just shutting anyway, taking the limb clean off, though that may have been safer than the position he was in now. It felt like an eternity, though probably it was only seconds, before the werewolf lost its grip and Martin fell back with a cry of pain, clutching his arm. As the door properly shut and sealed, he turned his attention from the still growling creature to his forearm. More specifically, to the four fresh, bloody gashes on it.

Fuck.

~~~

He didn’t finish his cleaning. They couldn’t have made him, not with a gun to his head. Martin Mystery was not a man prone to fear, but he was a man who had grown up with magic and been interested in the supernatural since he was old enough to focus his eyes and he was not, under any circumstances, going to let a wound from a werewolf fester. As soon as he’d come down from the adrenaline and shock of a sudden werewolf attack and the realization that he’d been scratched, Martin had shucked his shirt- it wasn’t like he didn’t have more- and used it to wrap his arm just long enough to flee back to Torrington.

Stowed safely away under his bed was what may well have been some of the most valuable stuff at Torrington. Most people, from just looking at the cache, would’ve laughed at the idea- a mangled disaster of a book, a handful of various stones, bundles of leaves, grasses, herbs, and a few little carved items of wood, bone, one of gemstone, still nothing fancy. But it was, more valuable than damn near anything. Nowhere else on school property were you going to find a higher concentration of magic and spell components than in the dark wood box cleverly hidden behind a take-out container and a pile of possibly-sentient-at-this-point socks.

It was this box that Martin dragged out as soon as he’d locked the door to his dorm and drawn the curtains. His spellbook, the sapphire frog, a few different herb bundles, and because he wasn’t quite stupid the first aid kit he’d promised his mother he’d keep somewhere accessible back when she’d first signed the paperwork for him to begin work at the Center. He had to have, somewhere in there, or in the myriad of other books on things so many people thought weren’t worth studying with the fervor he threw at them, there had to be some way to prevent werewolf curses settling in. There had to be.

Martin Mystery spent the next seven hours trying everything he possibly could before he finally went to bed.

Then he spent another four trying them all again.

~~~

Lunch the next day was… interesting.

Martin headed to meet Diana in the lunchroom, arm still aching from both the wound and his attempts to make sure there wasn’t any curse to it, only to be met with wide eyes and a noise somewhere between impressed and concerned.

“That must have been some punishment.”

“Yeah, it’s not easy being me, Di.” He stretched and clenched his fingers as he spoke. Tonio had seen him without the bandages that morning and expressed worry that it might be bad enough to screw with his movement, so now Martin was worried about it too despite himself. Maybe he should ask Diana about that? If anyone would know how deep a wound it would’ve had to be to cause problems it’d be her... He threw his gaze around the room as he considered the option- maybe he should get lunch first? Despite the breakfast Java had brought up when he hadn’t shown at the cafeteria, he felt like his stomach was gnawing on it-

Wait, stop, Betty was right there!

“Now if you’ll excuse me-” And he was gone, leaving his sister blinking in his dust as he all but teleported across the room to Betty’s table. Betty who didn’t look to happy to see him. Well, that was going to change soon enough. “Betty! Just the girl I was looking for.”

“Get lost, Martin.” He was not deterred. He was never deterred. He was hungry, but not deterred.

“Hey, is that any way to talk to someone who scored two tickets to tonight’s premiere of-” What was that smell? Oh god it smelled amazing- He looked down and was immediately enraptured by the contents of Betty’s plate. “Those look delish!” At no point had any cafeteria food, even Java’s, looked or smelled so wonderful as that chicken did to Martin in that moment, standing there with his stomach consuming itself like a black hole.

“You don’t mind if I take one of these, do you?” he asked, throwing up a smile as he snatched a wing off her plate, not even noticing the way he was practically draping himself over the plate or how Betty backed away. What he did notice was Luke straight lifting him off the ground by the back of his shirt.

“Dude,” the other boy said firmly, “some manners around my girlfriend!” Girlfriend? His? Between this new information and the fact there was chicken in his hand and not yet in his mouth Martin was at a bit of a loss.

“But, I’m just so hungry, I can’t help myself…” It wasn’t a lie, but it was still about to get him punched before Diana jumped in to save his life.

“Luke, wait!” It said something about how she was held at this school as compared to her brother that Martin was immediately set down, Diana automatically grabbing hold of him. “Martin’s just, part of a science experiment I’m running. He hasn’t eaten in three days, it’s making him loopier than normal, I’m so sorry.” She steered him away from the table as she spoke, Luke glaring after them, and Martin was grateful- in a confused way- until she reached for the food.

“Back off, Di, the wing is mine!” he growled as they briefly wrestled over the chicken, only for her to wrench the item out of his hands. Martin all but whimpered as she turned with a tense grin and replaced it on Betty’s plate, then took advantage of the continuing confusion of everybody involved to grab him by the undamaged arm and haul.

“Are you crazy?!” she growled under her breath as she lead the way to the door. “What’s wrong with you?!”

“I don’t know,” he replied, and it was the honest truth even if he wasn’t really paying attention to her. No, his eyes were on a new plate of chicken, hot and fresh and smelling delicious and going right passed them. “But I have to eat!”

Laser focused on the plate, Martin pulled out of his sister’s grasp, hardly noticing the world around him until after the crash, when he was on the floor next to Jessie, wrapped around her plate like a cat with a yarn mouse.

Floor chicken was awesome.

~~~

The floor chicken, alongside a plate of his own Diana grabbed him and the first of her plates, was thankfully enough to take the edge off Martin’s hunger. At least, enough of an edge that he could think about other things, like the slight itch that was leading him to rub his shin against the inside of his jeans or, more importantly, the fact that while Betty had been a bust he and Di shared an art class with Maria and they were currently working on figure drawing and anatomy.

So of course when Ms. Sachs called for a volunteer, Martin was immediately in motion. After all, as he pointed out with a gaze in Maria’s direction, he was a dead ringer for Rad Bradford. In fact, now that he was started-

“This pose,” he told Maria, who from her small jump clearly hadn’t been expecting him to suddenly be practically hanging off her easel, “is for you.” That’s it, Mystery. Who the man? You the man.

“Get your own girlfriend, loser.” Wait, what? When did Brody get there? And when had he started dating Maria?!

“Heh, sorry,” Martin replied, backing off sheepishly, “I didn’t know she was spoken for.” Because she hadn’t been three days ago! What the fuck? First Betty, now Maria? Thankfully he was broken from that spiral of confusion and poor timing by the sudden impact of a piece of charcoal against the back of his head. A quick turn to investigate revealed who else but Diana, ready with another piece to throw if he didn’t get his butt in gear.

“If you’re gonna pose, pose already,” she insisted, and though Martin rolled his eyes he went to do so. After all, there were still a few hot girls in the class- though sorority ties barred him from moving in on two of them- so he may as well peacock while he had the chance. He made his way to the stool in the center of the studio and struck a classic pose, brow twitching when Diana immediately laughed. “The Thinker? Really? How about something more believable?”

For a brief moment, his temper flared, and he seriously considered mooning her in front of the entire class. But, Taylor was to his right and would’ve nailed him with something heavier than a bit of charcoal if he did, so he instead settled on pulling down his lids, twisting his face into the most grotesque mask he could manage just long enough to get his friends to laugh and Diana to comment on its appropriateness before settling back into something more relaxed.

Things were fine like that for about ten minutes.

The problem with posing for a class, especially semi-impromptu posing, was that there was nothing to distract you but your own mind. Normally this wasn’t a problem for Martin, his imagination ran like an ostrich through the savannah, but today was just proving, difficult. He was still hungry enough for it to keep him from thinking, and the more he sat there the worse the itching from before seemed to become. Maybe if he’d had some music going or something he could’ve focused on that instead, but in a quiet room it was like it was getting worse and worse until finally he just, had to scratch. He tried to keep it low-key at first but…

“Stay still, Martin.” Diana was not alone in this request, the rest of the class either grumbling or looking at him in concern as his scratching got more intense.

“I can’t, I’m all itchy! The fuck, did I get fleas or something?” If that werewolf gave him fleas on top of everything he was quitting the Center and reading tarot for a living like his grandmother. The majority of the class picked up their easels and moved back a step, the rest descended into chuckles and open laughter as Martin scratched like he was trying to take skin off, having to actively stop himself from just gnawing on his own leg.

“Try doing your laundry once in a while!”

He could only fucking hope that was the problem.

~~~

At least during gym there were things to keep his mind off his hunger, and itching, and the fact he was starting to ache a little bit. Plus, Java was there and much less likely to judge him than his sister was. So Martin felt pretty good, not great at this point but pretty good, strolling in with his new shirt and the sort’ve confidence only he could manage. There were always cheerleaders nearby during his class, always, and lovely Louise was among them. Yes, he was down two out of three, but he still had a chance to get a date by the end of the day.

Little mind was paid to him as he walked by the rest of the mini-squad on his way to a curious Louise’s side, laying on the Mystery charm.

“So, Louise, I saw you admiring my shirt…” And immediately every one of them started giggling, which even he knew was never a good sign.

“I’ve just never seen a guy wear fuchsia before…” At least Louise was smiling at him as she said it, that was progress, right? Right? Martin blinked, beginning to second guess this decision- maybe he should’ve listened to Ivy- and smiled sheepishly at her. But before he could continue on chatting, a basketball slammed hard into his gut. He just barely caught it, flashing the girls an ‘I’m okay’ grin.

“My girl has better things to do than chat it up with you, Mystery.” And Martin heard nothing beyond that. Chip? Louise was dating Chip? Number one, since when? All of these girls had been single last he’d heard, where the fuck were these relationships coming from? Number two, why? He threw a confused look at Lil, two cheerleaders down the line. She responded with nothing but a shrug and a grimace that clearly communicated how much she didn’t approve of the matter either.

“Mystery!” Oh, yeah, person talking. “You playing ball, or what?” Martin grinned at him, cutting around him, dribbling the ball.

“With my mad skills? Step aside!”

One downside to working with the Center was that he simply didn’t have the time to devote to things like sports, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable. He’d always been the athletic type, and his missions were often more than enough to keep him in shape even when he wasn’t doing proper sporty things. In fact he’d once been referred to as the ultimate geek-jock fusion, and he was more than happy to show off what he could do for an audience, any audience, but especially one including girls. Lil applauded him from the sidelines as he dribbled hard, fast, and in as ostentatious a manner as was physically possible, right until the moment he got an angle wrong and sent the ball directly into his ankle.

Chip didn’t even look at him as he fell over, just snatching up the ball with a curt “you’re skins”. Rude.

“You alive, Marty?” Lil asked as Martin got back to his feet, heading back their way even as the other cheerleaders chuckled over his tumble.

“Right as rain, Lils,” he said with a smile, “gonna take more than a vicious basketball attack to stop me.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” He blew her a raspberry and shook his head- so mean, and to him, her good friend- as he turned his back to the lot and began to shuck his shirt.

He got most of the way there before he looked down and saw a sea of orange fuzz.

Eyes blowing wide, he slammed his shirt back on and looked around erratically, suddenly horrified someone might have seen the fur covering his chest. That hadn’t been there ten minutes ago when he’d gotten changed, it just hadn’t. This was bad, this was bad bad bad-

“Java!” He was so glad his friend worked his class, he needed the security of just, having him there, and clung one-handed to his arm. “Did you see that? Did anyone see that?” Martin scanned the room again. Cheerleaders were talking amongst themselves, didn’t seem to be paying him any mind. Other boys looked like they wouldn’t have noticed if he’d died on the court. And then Java, frowning slightly at him.

“See what, Martin?” Okay. Okay, nobody noticed. Alright, that was- He quickly darted a hand under his shirt to confirm that had happened. It had. Fuck. Martin took a deep breath and tried to relax. He could handle this. He could handle this.

“Look, Jav,” he said, throwing up a laughably fake smile, “I’m not feeling so well, can I sit this class out?” Java’s frown deepened in concern, but slowly he nodded.

“Go to nurse,” he said, and Martin nodded vigorously before bolting for the door.

~~~

Things were getting worse by the minute and the nurse was the last place he planned to go. He’d gotten to watch in real time as the fur overtook his legs as he changed back into his standard clothes. His nose was getting keener and keener, with every step it felt like, which didn’t help that his stomach was rumbling again, louder and fiercer than before. The itching was getting insane, everything ached, and the world was just, too damn loud. He could hear everything, from squirrels running around to other students talking under their breath as he stalked by with a growl building in his throat.

Martin was a good ninety-percent sure what was going on. He would’ve had to be stupid not to be, and no matter what his grades said Martin Mystery was not stupid. At least, not about things like this. Attacked by a werewolf? On the night before a full moon? (It was a full moon tonight, he knew, he was one of those people who kept track of that shit.) Being beset afterwards by intense hunger? Heightened senses? Sudden fur? A turtle could’ve followed that trail.

This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good. What was he going to do? What could he do? He’d already tried everything! There was nothing he could do with magic to stop or fix this, and he wasn’t going to the Center for help, not after what he’d seen yesterday. He was going to have to

He stepped around a corner and just barely missed being hit by a ball being tossed between two other boys. Without missing a beat he twisted around, leaping through the air to catch it in his teeth, landing on all fours on the ground with a skid that made his palms hurt. Before what he’d just done could even clock with him, he was shaking the ball with a growl.

“Um, Mystery?” When he glanced up Todd was slowly kneeling down beside him, one hand hovering near his shoulder and the other gesturing somebody behind Martin away. “You okay dude?” No, no he wasn’t, but how precisely do you explain ‘I got scratched up by a werewolf yesterday and now this’ to a civilian? You couldn’t, not without the Center having to get you out of the psych ward afterwards. Instead of a proper answer his jaw tightened around the ball and a whimper forced itself out of his throat, making him flinch with just how bad this all was. Tentatively, Todd started petting his hair.

“Um, it’s alright? Look, I sent Marcus to find, somebody…” Oh this was just getting better and better, they’d probably track down a teacher, or Diana-

“Thanks, Todd, we were looking for him.” That wasn’t Diana. The figure that ran up alongside Marcus and dropped to his side was very much Lil, followed closely by Darcy. “Marty? Buddy? Can you give Todd his ball back, we can get you inside?” He bit back another whine and forced his jaws apart, the ball plopping out into Todd’s open hand.

“Sorry man,” Darcy said as the girls helped Martin to his feet, each with a firm grip on one arm. Todd shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve had to wash worse than Martin-spit off this thing. Just, take care of him?” Their grips tightened.

“We plan to.”

~~~

“I call to order,” Sarah said, standing at the front of the meeting room, “this meeting of the Psi Psi Psi sorority and Tonio Antonelli to address the topic of- Martin Mystery, the fuck?”

This was a rare moment in which Martin did not want a crowd of girls looking at him. The entire sorority was there, plus Tonio- who they had hunted down specifically because he was the Senior Martin Specialist once he’d demanded nobody get Diana or Java involved. Java might have been safe, maybe, but if Diana figured this out she’d call MOM within four minutes. Fuck, the girls might call the Center if they found out.

“Is this a vampire thing? How worried should we be here?” Oh thank god. The vampire thing was old hat at this point, he could work with it.

“It might be?” he lied through his goddamn teeth, swallowing down a handful of peanuts from the honestly scarily large package Taylor had found him. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling, weird, lately.”

“Uh-huh.” Tonio looked him over and for a long moment Martin remembered just how damn well he knew him, especially when his eyes flicked to Martin’s bandaged arm. “For how long?”

“Almost a week now.” Lying was good here, lying would keep him out of a cage. Yes, Tonio’s eyes narrowed at him, but he didn’t argue and that was all Martin needed. A few of a girls sighed.

“Martin,” Aria said, “you have to tell people when shit’s extra weird, or else we can’t help.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“I thought I had everything under control.”

“Uh-huh.” Ten different people at once with that one. Sarah sighed.

“Okay,” she said, “from now until we get this worked out, someone is always on Martin Duty. Keep notes, keep him from getting the cops called on him, the usual.” Wait, no, fuck again!

“Guys, it’s not necessary, I’ll just hole up in my room a bit, up my calorie intake, it’ll be fine.”

“Martin,” Tonio patted his arm with too calm an expression, hefting a book in one hand, “fetch.”

It fucking burned that as soon as the paperback went flying he did.

~~~

“Tonio, man, our rooms are connected, you don’t need to do this.”

“Yes, yes I do, because you’re a disaster.”

Martin groaned and flopped back against the pile of dirty laundry he was using as a mattress. Tonio was insisting on sleeping in his room tonight, for the sake of keeping an eye on him, and Martin wasn’t rude enough to make him sleep on the floor.

“Seriously, I’ll be sleeping, what sort’ve trouble can I get into?” What he wanted, more than anything in the world in that moment, was to not be sharing a room with one of his best friends when he surely went full werewolf. He liked Tonio too damn much to want to maul him.

“Knowing you? All of it.” Tonio stretched out on the bed, smirking at him as he reached for the last light in the room. “Just whine if you need me to escort you to a tree or something.” Martin scowled at him.

“Oh shut up.”

As Tonio laughed and that final light shut off, he pulled his blankets around him and shut his eyes, praying for an uneventful night.

~~~

Martin Mystery woke up on the floor of the Psi Psi Psi meeting room, surrounded by familiar faces.

“So, good news- it’s not vampire shit.”

“Bad news- you’re a werewolf, Martin.”

“Don’t make Harry Potter references at him, the idiot’s been through enough.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

Martin groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes like it might make all this a dream.

“Are you sure?” he asked, as if he didn’t damn well know.

“Well-” It sounded like Tonio was somewhere towards the back of the room, and that was definitely his ‘why are you my best friend?’ tone- “given I woke up��� seven hours ago? to your tail in my face? We’re pretty damn sure.” He sighed. “I knew you were lying... Why do you not tell me these things? I share a suite with you, this is relevant!”

“I was scared getting people involved would make things worse!” He was. He really, really was. Those cages kept flashing in front of his eyes, alongside images of blood and bone. “Is everybody o-” As he pulled his hands away from his face, Martin noticed the long, black claws sticking out of each finger. A small, distressed noise rose in the back of his throat.

“Yeah, like we said,” Darcy said, taking a gentle hold of one of his wrists- oh, look, his wound was gone, that was terrifying- “definitely a werewolf. Claws, your ears are all pointy right now, and there is just, so much fur going on. And everyone is fine.”

“Yeah,” Maddie chimed in. “You were less Cujo and more Clifford.”

“We were all more worried about you chewing a hole in yourself than one of us,” Sarah added. “Speaking of which, do you want a flea collar? We were talking about what sort’ve supplies Diana and Java’d need to keep you healthy now and, that might be handy.”

“They aren’t going to need anything to keep me healthy.” It was a relief to know he hadn’t hurt anyone, apparently hadn’t even tried, but still. There was no way this could get out. No. “Not a word about this leaves this room.” Brows raised incredulously all around him.

“Martin,” Tonio chimed in, “speaking as your voice of reason- at the very least Diana needs to hear about this. I mean come on, are you gonna go home for the summer and just hope you never walk out of your bedroom during a full moon? Your family’s gonna have to know.” Martin shook his head, muscles tense, and lips pulling back from his teeth.

“If Diana finds out, the Center will find out. If the Center finds out, I’m going to end up in a cage.” Paige scoffed.

“Over the bodies of twenty-three girls and a Tonio you will.”

“Martin, seriously,” Darcy still had her grip on him, and clearly wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon, “we can’t be there for every full moon. You’ve gotta tell somebody.” Martin whined under his breath.

Fuck fuck fuck.

~~~

In the end they compromised. The others wouldn’t tell Diana unless directly questioned about his potential werewolfness, and he’d call his grandmother and tell her he was now at risk for canine distemper.

This was easier said than done.

“Yes, Gramma.”

“I know, but-”

“Look it’s a very recent thing-”

“Gramma telling Diana is an actual health risk here.”

“I tried that- Yes, yes, I know.”

“But Gramma, I-” Flinching, Martin nodded along and held the out the phone. “Tonio, she wants to speak to you.” The other boy took the phone as if it might bite.

“Hello, Mrs. Mystery. I’m doing fine, how about you? Oh great.” Of course, Tonio she was chill with.

“No, no, we’ve got things under control, we think. Just figured someone in his family should know about this. I mean full moons still happen over the holidays… Uh-huh.”

“Oh no, he was great, perfectly manageable, plenty of food, a few hours of fetch, and everything was fine.” Well, that was good to know at least, even if the idea that he’d played fetch made Martin pout even harder than he had been. Who knew being a werewolf could be so humiliating?

“Huh, that would explain it. Okay, I’ll let him know. Bye, ma’am. Same to you, bye.” All eyes in the room- which wasn’t that many at this point, it’d been decided that the people who’d actually gotten a decent amount of sleep should carry on as normal while the rest slept or handled this werewolf business- were locked onto Tonio as he hung up the phone. With a deep sigh, he flopped down bonelessly beside Martin.

“So, that necklace is supposed to stop the worst of the vampireness?” Martin sighed.

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Your gran thinks it should’ve stopped the werewolfness too, but since it didn’t she’s gonna call up some of your aunts and try to get a new one together that will.”

“So,” Sarah interjected, hanging off the back of a chair, “we only have to worry until they do. Then everything should go back to normal Martin weirdness, right?”

“That’s what she thinks. She wants us to keep an eye on him until then.”

“Well fuck, we were gonna do that anyway.”

On the one hand, Martin couldn’t help but notice they were talking about him like he wasn’t there, especially as they continued on. But on the other, what they were talking about was ‘our friend is a werewolf, how do we manage this without him ending up in a cage’. Everyone there had sat up last night making sure he was okay and under control. Sophia and Maddie had gotten hold of a PetSmart catalog and were arguing over what dog beds looked more comfortable.

As worrying as the situation was, his grandmother and aunts had his back and his friends, honestly, seemed just to get more awesome the more they learned about his weirdness.

And after the holy water incident he hadn’t thought they could be more chill about his shit.

~~~

The lot of them were in the middle of a discussion about collar colors- half of them, including Martin, felt red was the best option because warm colors were his thing, while Tonio was with the other half in thinking a blue collar might work to bring the color of his jeans up to balance the rest of his color scheme- when the u-watch went off. And everything immediately stopped.

It chimed.

The screen went to its pre-call static.

Darcy wrenched the watch off Martin’s wrist and yeeted it across the room.

They all watched in silence as it ricocheted off the back wall, hit the floor, and bounced into the darkness under a desk. After a brief moment, the space was illuminated, and MOM’s voice rang out.

“Martin? Agent Mystery, where are you? Answer me!” A brief pause. “Goddamnit…” And the screen went dark again.

Silence reigned for several seconds more, three sets of arms wrapped protectively around Martin, Tonio’s hand clamped onto his arm. Slowly, everyone turned to Darcy.

“What? I panicked!” Martin released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, the others following his lead.

“Fingers crossed, she just thinks I’m slacking off.” Lil nodded against his shoulder.

“Fingers crossed.”

~~~

“Bad news, everybody,” Hannah said as she stormed purposefully into the meeting room, waking up two girls and Tonio in the process.

“Because we haven’t had enough of that lately…” She threw the short blond a sharp look, then turned her attention back to the room at large.

“Chip’s dead-”

“Well, that makes my life easier.”

“Lillian!” Lil doubled down, arms crossed and back straight.

“He was a piece of shit.”

“Louise is a mess!”

“She’ll live, better off without him anyway.”

“Okay,” Sophia said, stepping between them with hands raised, “can we stay on topic? What happened, Hannah?” Shutting the door behind her, Hannah walked across the room to hover casually and worryingly protectively around Martin.

“What was left of him was found around the other side of the building this morning, in the bushes. Everyone’s talking like it was some sort’ve animal attack.”

Martin’s gut fell clean out of him, eyes blowing wide. There weren’t animals at Torrington large enough to take out a teenage boy. They weren’t even allowed cats for fuck’s sake, nonetheless anything that could leave ‘what’s left’ of anything bigger or badder than a pizza. All there was was- And he’d been at odds with Chip, sort’ve, just yesterday-

“Oh no, don’t you start with that look!” There was a light thwop against the back of his head and when he turned to look there was Tessa, with a firm, no-nonsense expression. “You’ve been alone for ten minutes out of the last eighteen hours, that is not long enough to break out of a locked room, find a jock, eat him, clean yourself up, break back in, and lock the doors or windows or whatever behind you.”

“I could if I wanted to,” Martin countered on pure instinct, baring his teeth at the thought he couldn’t do damn well anything if he wanted.

“Yeah,” Tonio said, tone flat and as unimpressed as everyone’s expressions, “maybe if you were a were-cheetah.”

“The point is,” Hannah said, laying a hand on Martin’s shoulder, “we know you didn’t kill him, but, we don’t know what did. And until that thing is caught, anyone who finds out about you is gonna see you as the prime suspect.” Hackles raised around the room at the thought.

“Okay everybody,” Sarah said, glaring at nothing in particular, “sounds like we’ve got more and more shit to worry about.”

~~~

Another meeting was called for that afternoon.

Nobody was really sure how they were going to handle the ‘strange beast eating schoolmates’ situation. They couldn’t even agree on if they should. Several of the girls were of the opinion that they should just leave well enough alone, it probably was some animal that made its way onto campus and it was better to let the professionals deal with it. Others felt it was better to know for sure- find out what it was that attacked Chip and then decide whether or not to be worried.

Martin had enough of an instinct for his work to know it wasn’t going to be some animal. That was the sort’ve thing Diana would suggest, and she was rarely right when his gut said ‘supernatural’. He might be wrong, but she wouldn’t be right.

“I’d put my life savings on this being the sort’ve thing the Center should get involved with,” he said, slumped down in his chair at the head of the room with the rest of the council, idly scratching his arm.

“Even if it is,” Ivy countered, “we’d still have to get involved. You’re the Center employee here, we aren’t leaving you alone, and you don’t want your sister or Java involved.” He hated a lot of things, but mostly that she was right. Whatever was going on he could probably handle it alone, but nobody was going to let him. Maybe Diana and Java would handle it, but the idea of not being there to help them made him queasy. Or maybe that was the hunger again. Just in case he tore open another bag of Fritos.

“I’m just saying, guys, I can handle it. Give me like, two hours-”

“I’m sorry, did we not already have this argument yesterday?”

“Yesterday a guy wasn’t dead!”

A knock rang from the door before Sarah could answer. Again, the room went quiet. Another knock.

“I know you all are in there,” Diana called from the other side, “we need to talk to Martin!” Goddamnit. This was the problem with getting your whole damn social group together in the usual place, you were too easy to find. Martin swore to find them all a new meeting room, in a different country if he could swing it. In this moment though, everyone in the room shared a look before Darcy stood and cracked the door.

“Martin isn’t here.” Bless that girl.

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie?”

“You’re already Martin’s friend, who knows how much lower you’d sink.”

“Hey!” The affront on Tonio’s face at that, as Martin’s oldest friend, was golden.

“Tonio’s here, Martin’s here, let us in.”

“No.”

“Darcy, please.” Logically Java, who Martin had no doubt was also out in the hall, would’ve been able to open the door with ease. He was, he had to assume, just too kind-natured to risk hurting or scaring her. “Think he might be sick.”

“He’s fine.”

“Listen-” Wait, was that Billy? That sounded like Billy. Fuck. “-this is going to be hard to believe, but we think he might be a werewolf-”

“Yeah, we know, either that or he’s possessed by a golden retriever. It’s all under control, goodbye.” As everyone inside struggled to not laugh or throw something at her, Darcy closed the door. Or, at least she tried to. The door stopped before it could click shut, and despite her best attempts creaked open enough for Java, a disguised Billy, and a very affronted Diana to force their ways in.

“You know?!”

“Well yeah,” Darcy responded, holding her ground between them and the others, “he was chasing balls out front yesterday, it’s not exactly rocket science.” Diana gaped for a moment, the boys waving behind her in an attempt at being friendly, before craning to glower at her brother over Darcy’s shoulder.

“Martin! What the fuck! You tell them but not us?!” He licked barbeque flavoring from his claws and waved.

“Hey guys. Um, nothing to worry about? Gramma’s working on keeping me from going all, furry.”

“-er.”

“Shut up, Ivy.” If anything Diana glared harder.

“You told Gramma, and not me!”

“Well Gramma doesn’t have a direct line to the Center, now does she?” Tessa reached out and grabbed Darcy’s arm, slowly pulling her back into the seats as Billy and Java edged towards the front of the room.

“Martin,” Billy said, “you really should head back to the Center-”

“And end up in one of those cages?” Martin tensed at the very thought and when he did everyone did for one reason or another. A few of the girls half-rose from their seats, eyes on his team and on Billy. “Yeah, no. We have everything under control here and Gramma’s working on keeping me from changing. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Nobody’s going to put you in a cage, Martin,” Billy said, hands raised placatingly. “If anything you’ll be killed alongside the rest of us.” Wait what? Jaw going slack, Martin’s face twisted into a confused grimace. “The werewolf that turned you escaped yesterday, as per protocol we had to call Security Chief Jones back in from her vacation and after looking over the footage she’s angrier than I’ve seen a person in years. You’re dead, I’m dead, MOM, the Assistant Security Chief, Head of Maintenance… If any of your friends here want work at the Center, we’re about to have a lot of openings.”

It took a minute for that to sink in. Normally he’d take such a threat with a major grain of salt, but if there was anyone working for the Center he would count on to follow through… That was honestly kind of scary. Thankfully other people were paying attention for him, namely Sarah, who was the one to pipe up with a-

“What do you mean ‘escaped’?”

“Oh, yeah,” Billy said, apparently so caught up in his imminent demise he’d forgotten, “that’s why MOM was looking for Martin. And because he hadn’t finished his cleaning-”

“In my defense I did get attacked by a werewolf.”

“-but mostly because he’s the one who caught it last time and we were worried it might hold a grudge.” The room went quiet again as everyone let this sink in. The other werewolf was loose, it may or may not be out for Martin’s blood, if it was, then it was probably heading for or already at

“Well,” Tessa said, “at least we know what probably killed Chip.” Java sighed, some tension leaving his shoulders.

“Am glad not Martin.”

“No, no,” Tonio said, “you haven’t seen wolfy-Martin, he wouldn’t take out a bacon cheeseburger.”

“I am right here.”

“We know.”

“But if the werewolf is after Martin,” Diana asked, “why would it kill Chip?”

“Because he was an asshole?”

“Stop it, Lil. Was probably just hungry. After all, it’s not like it had Darcy there feeding it jerky.”

“By the way, thanks Darc.”

“No problem, Marty.”

“Okay,” Sarah raised a hand for silence as she spoke, motioning the newcomers to take a seat with the others, “so, we know the extent of the werewolf problem. Now,” she looked directly at Billy, “what more can you tell us?”

The ‘having them sit’ thing turned out to be useless, because the moment Billy pulled out the werewolf’s file everybody was out of their seats again, crowding around him for a better look. It had everything. Height, weight, preferred diet, blood type, known history, Martin’s report on the mission during which he’d captured it. Even a photo, which got a lot of ‘huh’s from the crowd.

“That looks, nothing like you did, Martin.”

“Really?” he and Diana asked as one. Lil nodded.

“Yeah, you looked a lot more humanoid. Like, blatantly very canine, but not nearly as much as that guy. And you were fluffier. And more colorful.”

“You think maybe the vampire thing has something to do with it?” Tonio asked, and Diana glared at Martin again.

“They know about the vampires too?!”

“Look, after the holy water incident I had to come clean with some stuff.”

“What holy water incident?!”

“The one where Darcy dumped some holy water on his head as part of an in-joke and he started smoking.” It was a rare and, in Martin’s mind, beautiful moment where Diana had no words. She just gaped at him, eyes wide. He shrugged.

“I’d rather not talk about it. Whatcha thinking, Tonio?”

“I’m thinking,” Tonio leaned back as he spoke, “maybe you’re not becoming a werewolf like one that because you’ve already got the vampire blood going on. Maybe werewolves that are vampires or are gonna be vampires are a different type, and that’s why you’re fluffy and colorful. Or maybe that necklace of yours is working on it, just not entirely. So you’re only half-turning.”

“Gramma’d be glad to hear that,” Diana said, “it would probably give her less work to do.” Martin nodded along to that, it would, it really would, but Java shook his head.

“But not help with phantom werewolf,” he said, and he was right. If that thing was eating people, and looking for Martin, then they had to recapture it. And hopefully find someplace more humane to put it. Maybe Martin could gain survival points with Jones if he puppy-eyed for the werewolf’s well-being… But first.

“Well, I did catch it once,” he said, standing tall and grinning toothily around the room, “and that was in way worse circumstances, this’ll be a breeze.”

“Worse than on a high school campus while you yourself are transforming into a vicious beast?”

“He wishes.”

“Shut up, Tessa.” Martin’s grin widened as he aimed it at Billy, who shifted away slightly at the sight of sharp teeth. “Of course! Last time I was inexperienced, human, and only had half a clue what I’d gotten into. This time I’ve got people behind me, I’m a fucking werewolf, know exactly what I’m dealing with, and, I have time to plan.” He stretched, rolling his shoulders. “Who wants to help catch a monster?”

All around the room hands went up. Not all of them, but that didn’t matter when every face in the room held a confident expression. Everyone here trusted him, and whether they were willing to help with this specifically or not- it was a dangerous event to be involved in after all, even if he didn’t plan for any of them to be in harm’s way- they all had his back.

He’d known there was a reason he liked all these people.

~~~

In the end fifteen extra people- including Tonio- made light work, and preparations were complete well before the sun finished setting. Which left plenty of time to argue about who would be involved in the actual ‘werewolf capture’ portion of the event. And it was an argument. Too many people wanted to be involved with that. In the end they managed to pare it down to just Lil- who could not be deterred and made the compelling argument that she was the most hardcore athlete present so she was fairly certain she could handle whatever Martin and Diana could- alongside Diana and Java, with Martin acting as bait and- at his own insistence- the only one on the ground.

That had been an entirely different argument, but he’d won it with logic and empathy and forward-thinking and Diana damn well better have been proud of him.

So it was that, as the moon rose over the rooftops, he found himself standing alone at the edge of the campus. He could feel more of the wolf coming over him, just as he had the day before. Aches, hunger, heightened senses, that itching that was still fucking going. Martin chewed at one hand as he paced, face shifting into a short muzzle, tail growing through the hole Jessica’d cut in his pants and boxers earlier. Even if the other wolf somehow wasn’t after him, which he doubted, it was certain to find him, and that was all they needed to set things in motion. For it to take any sort’ve interest.

The damn thing took another hour, it’s scent rousing Martin from a potato chip-induced half-sleep before it came within sight. Setting his spine, he climbed back to his feet and let out a howl. One graciously answered.

“That’s it, buddy, come get me…” He stood tense, waiting, waiting, until the snarling form of the phantom wolf slipped out of the deeper shadows. Why it was showing itself, Martin didn’t know, but he certainly wasn’t about to complain. It came closer, he moved back, closer, back, rinse, repeat, until finally the tension in the air broke and the beast leapt with a roar.

Martin ran.

Through the grass, vault a shrub, it was on his heels, longer legs serving it well, up a path, under one of the larger trees-

There was a yelp as the werewolf followed him.

With a sharp grin, literally, Martin spun on his heels to face his foe. Java and the girls grinned back at him from up in the foliage, and beneath them- one very colorful werewolf.

“And now you can’t do your phantom thing.” Phase one, complete. Phase two, a go.

The werewolf charged him again and this time Martin stood his ground, grabbing it by the shoulders and twisting as it went for his throat. Together they hit the ground, a mass of fur and claws and teeth. The goal, as Martin wrestled with it, was to get it subdued enough that the others could bind the thing. Originally they’d been going for a net, which would’ve left the dye and paint they dumped over it unnecessary and kept this whole fight much shorter, but preliminary testing had proven Martin could shred it easily and they were going off the assumption the other wolf could do the same.

Thankfully, Martin considered as a lucky bite got lost in his mane, he was a lot better protected than last time.

With a snap, a snarl, a familiar kick to the gut, the werewolf broke out of his hold and darted back to give itself space. Which also gave Martin time to get hold of the x-rod, quarterstaff style. Having a weapon couldn’t hurt. Besides, this way he could smack it from a distance and there was feeling deep in his soul that was satisfying about smacking something coming at him with a stick.

Now that he thought about it, this was probably the instinct called upon during the invention of baseball.

One sharp crack stunned the wolf, sending it to the ground, and Martin sprinted to pin it. Not that he was quite fast enough, by the time he reached it it had enough sense back to try for another bite, one hastily blocked with his staff. And so, with jaws around his weapon, Martin did one better.

A staff pressed against the back of it’s jaw held the wolf’s head to the ground, Martin’s weight on it’s middle kept it from maneuvering. At first, the wolf tried to swipte at him, but his own thick fur and clothing made it a waste of time. The best it could do was try to lift the staff like a barbell in a bid to even the odds back up, and even that was an attempt that wouldn’t last long. Now they didn’t have to worry about the teeth, Java, Diana, and Lil jumped down from the tree and came to Martin’s aid- each swaddled in a painful number of layers for safety’s sake.

Java grabbed the wolf’s forearms and carefully pulled it’s hands from the quarterstaff, pinning them above it’s head so the girls could tie them with a length of wire carefully covered with cloth and cotton for safety. This was repeated, with even more care, with it’s flailing legs. Then, while Java held the legs and Lil held the arms, Diana pulled out one of Tonio’s belts (“Nothing deserves to be bound in anything of Martin’s”) and wrapped it loosely around the wolf’s muzzle. Carefully, carefully, she tightened it as Martin pulled the staff away, like the world’s most dangerous game of Jenga, before yanking it tight the instant the staff was clear.

Thoroughly bound, gagged, and pinned, there was nothing of consequence the phantom werewolf could do. Martin patted it’s head consolingly.

“Don’t worry, dude, we gonna make sure you’re kept in better conditions this time.”

~~~

Two months passed and thankfully nobody died, though several did lose their jobs, and even MOM walked on eggshells for a few weeks. Plans to improve conditions in the cages were rushed through the approval process, though the phantom werewolf would never see them. That one had been transferred to another facility with nicer cells that also was plenty far away from Martin.

He’d gone through two more full moon cycles since being turned, none of which had resulted in any harm to any individual. At least, not any harm that put them at risk of turning. Getting knocked over by an enthusiastic werewolf was not a big threat. As it was he’d spent those nights out in the forests behind Torrington or locked up in the meeting room, always with someone to look after him, often with a ball to chase and snacks to eat. It was actually kind of fun, now that he was getting used to it. But nothing lasts forever, and amount of the shaving and nail clipping he was having to do to maintain his cover was really crimping his style. It would’ve crimped Diana’s style.

“Hold still, Martin!”

“If you’d hurry up I wouldn’t have to!”

“Do you want this to stay on?” Diana demanded, aiming an knee to the small of his back, “then sit still!” The new necklace their grandmother had sent was… tighter than the last one. More of a choker than anything. Supposedly to make sure it stayed in place, as if Martin had ever had a problem with keeping it on before. He supposed it probably had something to do with how often he got transformed into things, especially lately. This was supposed to make sure he didn’t turn into any more supernatural creatures before his time, or give into any of the relevant urges, and if it didn’t work she was probably going to come up and ward him personally.

Again.

“There, finally! How many ways to close a necklace are there, and how did Gramma find them all?”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Martin replied. Before his eyes his claws were receding, and he could feel the hunger dying down. He turned to grin at his sister. “Thanks, Di.”

“No problem.” She brushed her hands off and sat back on his bed. “It’s going to be nice to have the, well, comparatively normal you back.” He laughed and scooted back himself, throwing an arm over her shoulders.

“Tell me about it. If I never wake up with a ball in my mouth again it’ll be too soon.”

[imagine-loki]

Loki and the Witchling

TITLE: Loki and the Witchling 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 23/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a healer working with the Avengers when Loki comes to join the team

RATING: T (so far) 

NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

     “WHAT?” you demanded just as loudly as the rest of the room. Unfortunately, everyone just stared in shocked, drunken, confusion. They were all way too plastered to process the information, much less have this conversation tonight.

    You glared at them all for being dumb enough to get this drunk. It was nearly dawn, and you were grumpy without sleep, especially when you had to be the grownup for all these adults, and Tony. “I’ve got to get you all to bed so you can sleep off that shit and we can have a coherent conversation about that bombshell in the morning,” you grumbled at them.

    “Language,” Cap slurred. You knew it was bad when Cap was drunk enough to slur. What was in that stuff Thor had given them?

    You calmly raised your middle finger at Cap, who just looked even more shocked and appalled at your actions. Clint just erupted into giggles. “Can it, Cap,” you snarled at him. You were really grumpy without sleep and having to herd a group of drunken cats. You stood from Loki’s lap and scowled when he tried to pull you back there. “You all officially lose the blue band-aid contest.” you informed them as you raised your hands in front of you, calling the magic you’d need for your drunken cat herding. It probably wasn’t the most ethical method of getting them to bed, but it was the most effective way of getting them all there safely and quickly. “I’m calling it, guys, bed for everyone,” they all whined, but it was too late. You looked at Thor and Loki. “We will discuss this in the morning,” you told them firmly. With that, you unleashed the spell you had cast. A moment later, everyone, besides Loki, was in their beds asleep. The sleep was easy, it was part of a healer’s arsenal. Putting everyone to bed was more tricky, but you managed. You had to take a moment to catch your breath. It had taken quite a bit of magic all at once to cast that spell.

    You walked over to the whiteboard currently set up in the living room. It currently held the tally marks of everyone’s injuries for the evening. You erased the board and wrote instead:

    Everyone lost tonight for the offense of getting so drunk the healer had to teleport you to your beds. Pissing off the healer was a terrible idea. So you ALL lose.

    Pay up

    Y/N

    After you wrote your note you went back to the couch and your very drunk boyfriend. “Come along, love. Time for bed,” you bid him gently. You’d promised to take care of him, so he didn’t get sent to bed like the others. You somehow got him hauled to his feet, one of his arms over your shoulders and your arms around his waist to keep him standing. You teleported the two of you up to his room, even through his shielding, glad his shields didn’t even hesitate at letting you in anymore. Somehow you managed to walk him to his bed and get him sitting in it. It wasn’t easy.

    It was even more difficult to figure out how to get him out of his shoes. He kept wanting kisses instead of helping you. Finally, you remembered that you were a witch and had the handy clothes changing spell. It was more difficult to use on someone other than yourself, but you somehow, somehow with lots of herding and promises of kisses got him in pajamas in the bed and agreeing to stay there for longer than thirty seconds.

    You swore to yourself never to let him get this drunk again.

    He grabbed your hand when you went to leave the room. “Stay with me?” he asked all small and pathetically.

    You sighed, exasperated and grumpy, but gave him a smile anyway. “If I stay, will you finally go the fuck to sleep?” you asked him. He giggled at your curse word and you were tempted to read him that book just to hear more of his giggles. He nodded. “Fine, I’ll stay.” You didn’t feel like using more magic when you were sober enough to dress yourself, so you stole a pair of pajama pants and one of his shirts from his dresser to wear to bed, keeping your back to him while you changed. Once changed, you crawled into the bed with him. He curled himself around you, protectively acting the big spoon, even though he was too drunk to use his magic, much less protect either of you.

    *

    It was nearly noon before anyone in the compound woke. “Miss Y/N, the team would like for you to come downstairs,” Jarvis’ voice broke through the last of your sleep. He sounded almost afraid of your answer. You groaned and sat up, though you had to move Loki’s arm to do so. He looked like hell when his eyes cracked open. They were bloodshot. He groaned and tried to cover his head with a pillow. You laughed and he groaned more at the sound of your laugh.

    “I’ll be down soon, J,” you told Jarvis. “I should leave you like this,” you teased Loki, not above tormenting him for getting in this state. He whimpered and you took pity on him. “C’mere,” you bid him softly, gently. You touched his temple, your hand surrounded by the blue glow of your magic. He finally relaxed when you got rid of his hangover for him. You brushed his hair back from his face. “Better?” you asked him gently. He nodded weakly.

    “Remind me never to do that again,” he groaned.

    “Duly noted,” you replied dryly. “I’m not intending on letting any of you drink that stuff again,” you grumbled.

    “What happened last night?” Loki asked, worried, confused, and still not seeming up to full strength. 

    “Besides you getting drunk off your ass? What do you remember?”

    “The last thing is Thor bringing out that flask…” he then looked so horrified and concerned, and stared at you in his bed, wearing his clothes. “I didn’t- we-” he couldn’t form the words, couldn’t complete the thought that was so abhorrent to him, that he might have done something without your consent. 

    You shook your head quickly. “No. Nothing happened besides sleep,” you told him quickly. He sighed in relief.

    “Not that I would not be interested, of course, but that would not be the way…” he glanced at your necklace, which was suddenly no longer shy now that everyone had seen it, and looked away from it quickly, an almost unreadable expression of hurt? betrayal? fear? anger? on his face at the sight of it. You grabbed it and shoved it back under your borrowed shirt.

    “No, that would not have been the way,” you agreed with him. “Let’s see, you and everyone else got super stupidly drunk. You apparently have no filter and a lead tongue when you’re drunk and told the whole group about my necklace and how you think it means I’m full Asgardian. And then your idiot brother shouted that it was your betrothed’s necklace.  You and Thor will be explaining that tidbit shortly.  The conversation ended there, because you were all too drunk to function, so I got everyone to bed,” you explained quickly. Loki looked more and more horrified during your explanation and you could see the fog clearing in his mind as your words sparked his memory.

    “That…did not go as intended,” he finally said.

    “No. It didn’t. So now we’re going downstairs where we’ll hopefully find your brother and we can get this whole mess sorted out and the two of you will be giving some explanations,” you told him firmly.  You didn’t like secrets and tricks when you were the one involved and potentially hurt by them.

    “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-” he started. You shook his apology away.

    “You’re allowed to have fun too, and none of this is your fault-”

    “Miss Y/N. Mr. Stark is pathetically begging,” Jarvis announced again, interrupting your conversation. He sounded worried.  You sighed heavily.

    “Coming, J,” you called. “We need to get downstairs,” you told Loki as you got to your feet. You made sure he was coming with you before you would leave the room. He wasn’t getting out of this conversation. He was still looking sheepish, so you grabbed his hand to make sure he followed you.

    When you made it downstairs, you found a bunch of pathetic looking Avengers waiting for you, plus a Thor who was happily eating poptarts and drinking coffee. The rest looked even worse than Loki had when he woke up.  “What have we learned about drinking whatever that shit was that Thor gave you?” you asked the pathetic group.

    “That it was fun,” Tony growled, barely looking up from the couch he had collapsed facedown onto.

    “Guess you don’t want a hangover cure,” you replied pleasantly.

    “That you are the most beautiful wonderful healer ever and we will never do something so stupid again,” Clint said quickly. You went over to him and started with him on your round around the room healing the hangovers.

    “You ok, Thor?” you asked once he and Tony were the last ones left. He nodded, his mouth too full of poptarts to answer.

    “Your present will be here later today,” Tony finally said when you had healed everyone else. “I’m covering the present for all of the losers,” he added, glancing at the board which still had your note on it.

    “Better be something good for how much work it took to get all of you safely to your beds last night,” you grumbled, but healed him too. You sat on the couch with Loki, but not curled up next to him, just far enough away that you could easily talk to him and Thor.

    “You two are betrothed?” Nat asked, like she wasn’t quite sure she was remembering that conversation correctly. The rest of the group stared in half-remembered shock.

    “Lady Y/N, we can have this conversation elsewhere,” Thor said gently, offering to have the conversation more privately.  It wouldn’t help and you knew it.  Either Jarvis would spy for Tony, or they’d just demand all the answers later anyway.

    “It doesn’t matter where we have it, just that we have it. They’re family, and they already know there’s something going on. They’ll find out the rest eventually, we might as well all find it out together. I need an explanation, Thor, Loki,” you told them firmly. 

    “Then let us tell you what we know happened and we will piece the rest together from there,” Loki said gently, nervously. He was scared, actually afraid for the first time since you’d known him. You weren’t quite sure what he was afraid of… afraid of your anger, of your hurt, your rejection for whatever this story was going to be.

    “Loki, just tell me,” you bid him softly. You trusted and loved him, wasn’t that enough, no matter what had happened in the past?

    He took a breath. You saw him steel himself before he began the tale.