#i double-checked my top tracks to make sure not a single panic to be found girl what

[thewildmother]

tagged by: @impossibletruths (+ @in-maidjan for the artists) tagging: anybody who sees this! share your tunes!!

[edie-baby]

we're okay, we're alright | lando norris

summary: When Lando Norris has a panic attack, McLaren's personal assistant, Olivia McKinnon, is there to calm him down. Even if they have to penguin walk.

word count: 2337

warnings: panic attacks

When a seventeen year old Olivia McKinnon first joined the McLaren F1 team as a personal assistant to their drivers, Fernando Alonso and Stoffel Vandoorne were in the cockpits, and she got along well with both of them. Fernando had become a bit of an uncle to the teenager, teaching her Spanish whenever she asked, and ruffling up her hair in the most inconvenient of situations. Stoffel was much like an older brother, he joked around with her, teased her endlessly, and was always quick to worry if anything happened to her - he also threatened to beat up her boyfriend when she found out he was cheating on her, but that’s beside the point.

The day the news broke that two new drivers would be filling the seats of the two men she was incredibly close to, it shocked Oli. She was finally getting used to the specifics of the older men’s orders - how they liked coffee, water, what food they liked in what moods, who they were always happy to answer calls from, and who to consistently avoid. And now she’d be having to learn it for two completely new people.

Carlos Sainz she had seen around the paddock, never spoken to nor been introduced to, however after the first few weekends of seeing her multiple times, they began exchanging smiles in passing. He seemed nice, and Oli figured she might be able to continue her Spanish lessons if they got on well enough.

Lando Norris however, Oli had a complicated relationship with. They had bumped into each other multiple times around the MTC when he was there for meetings or sim work, or during race weekends when he hung around the McLaren garage on account of him being a test and reserve driver. Zak introduced them multiple times, sure that a friendship would blossom between the two youngins quite quickly, however Lando was always quick to leave whenever Oli was near. After wondering if she had offended him, or done something wrong, she began to worry and spoke to Zak about the issue, not wanting to have tension between her and one of the men she would be working for. Zak spoke with Lando a few days later, and found out in quite a memorable conversation, exactly why Lando had such an aversion to the small brunette.

“I’m scared of her.” Lando muttered ashamedly. Zak couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, that the boy who drove fast cars was scared of a five foot two pixie of a girl who had a beaming smile and cute nose.

“How? She’s so small.” Zak chuckled, the image of Lando cowering away from a girl six inches shorter than him was one he wouldn’t forget.

“I don’t know, she’s just so scary. I feel like if she wanted to, she could say five words and I would be ruined. Completely, like she could tear me apart in a sentence. I also think she could probably take me in a fight.��� Lando replied, fiddling with the bracelet on his right wrist, a nervous habit he had developed after his Mum gifted it to him. Zak merely laughed in response, a fond smile crossing his face at the young driver. He could see from the beginning the two were made for each other, Lando didn’t know it yet but it seemed he already had a very strong connection with the girl.

“Anyone could take you in a fight, Lando. Just be nice to her and I’m sure she won’t bite. Unless you ask, of course.” Zak teased, thankful for his easy going and close relationship with the eighteen year old. Lando went bright red, covering his cheeks with a nervous laugh, the serious eyes Zak was giving him pushing him to flee the room in the mess of flushed cheeks and embarrassed laughter.

I

“Oli! Have you seen Carlos or Jon?” Charlotte yelled, startling the brunette who was pouring over the weekend’s schedule. Olivia looked up, shaking her head at Charlotte who sighed in frustration.

“According to his schedule, Carlos should be in interviews for the next hour, and Jon should be floating around somewhere. Why? What’s gone on?” Oli questioned, double checking the schedule in front of her.

“I think Lando’s having a panic attack and I don’t know how to calm him down. I figured one of the boys would know.” Charlotte rushed out, causing Oli to stand up from her chair abruptly. She had dealt with many panic attacks during her high school years and knew firsthand how hard it was to ground yourself sometimes.

“Where is he?” Oli demanded, already gathering her belongings on the table while Charlotte pointed wordlessly to the drivers’ rooms. Oli set off, jogging through the McLaren hospitality, making a beeline for the Brit’s room. When she got up there, the door was partially open, and that was enough for Oli to push the door all the way open, then quickly closing it behind her to give Lando some privacy.

“Lando? It’s Olivia, Charlotte’s out looking for Jon and Carlos at the moment. She said you were having a panic attack, and I don’t know if you have them much but I wanted to try some breathing with you? You just have to follow along with what I’m doing, okay sweetheart? Big breath in through your nose, one, two, three, four. Now hold that breath in, two, three, four. And let it out through your mouth, one, two, three, four, five, six. Okay, we’re going to do it again. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. And out, two, three, four, five, six.” Oli attempted the most well known ‘calm the fuck down’ technique, something that never really worked for her but was often good for others. Lando didn’t seem to be able to hear anything she was saying, barely reacting to her presence when the door opened.

He was curled up in the corner of the small bed, his back against the wall, legs pulled tight up to his chest. His breaths were heavy and uneven, and Oli wondered how long he had been breathing like this as it most definitely wasn’t good for his oxygen consumption.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to try something different. I’m going to talk, and I want you to focus on my voice. You don’t need to listen to what I’m saying if you can’t, but just listen to the noise, alright?” Olivia tried again, slowly making her way to the bed. She sank down onto her knees in front of the bed, trying to come off as non-threatening as possible.

“You know, I really like your shoes. I usually don’t like the look of trainers, I’m more of a sneakers girl myself, but they look really nice. But we’ll have to get you some cool socks, they’ll get hidden by your pants most of the time but it’s always fun to have a bit of a secret. I’m wearing beer socks right now. They’re pretty cute, and no one can tell unless I pull my jeans up.” Oli’s ramblings didn’t seem to be doing much to help Lando either, his breathing and rocking completely undisturbed. Olivia wanted to try one more thing before she began repeating the process of different techniques.

She stood up, leaning slightly against the bed Lando was curled on and reached her hand out slowly. She aimed for his bicep, the skin to skin contact startled something in Lando and he jumped. Oli moved back immediately, scared that she had made everything worse when Lando’s hands landed on her own arms, hauling her pliant body up onto the bed and curling his body around her. His head rested next to her shoulder, his nose lightly brushing the fabric of her team shirt, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He was still curled up quite a bit, his knees tucked close to his chest, the bony joints resting against Oli’s hips.

She heard Lando sniffle and turned to look at him immediately, a choked sob left his lips as tears trailed on a warpath down his tanned face. Oli wrapped her arms around Lando, pulling his head to rest on her upper chest, close enough to her heart that he would be able to hear it beating, whilst not completely smothering him in her boobs. Her hands began brushing through Lando’s hair, listening to the heartbreaking sounds of him sobbing so hard he was coughing.

“It’s okay sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay.” Oli whispered, her lips brushing the top of Lando’s forehead. His sobs began slowing, turning into whimpers and sniffles, then finally stopping to the rare sniffle.

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing from the driver’s lips when he had calmed himself down. He attempted to untangle himself from his assistant, but she only held on tighter. Lando relaxed straight away, her fingers carding through his curls was so soothing that he could have fallen asleep right there.

“Do not apologise. There’s not a single thing to be sorry for, honey. Are you feeling a little better now? Your breathing is much better and your tears have stopped.” Olivia spoke, softly brushing the slowly drying tear tracks with the back of her index finger, the gentleness of her touch causing a lone tear to fall from Lando’s eye, catching on Olivia’s hand. He hadn’t been touched like this in so long, and knowing that she was only doing it because it was her job could have sent him spiralling again, but Oli caught the look swimming in his eyes.

“Hey, hey! Look at me, okay? We’re okay. We’re alright. Do you want to come with me to get you some water? Maybe a cup of tea? And we should get you a hoodie, you’re shivering like crazy, love.” Olivia was so patient with him, allowing him a few moments to process everything she was saying and speaking a little slower than she usually would. She made a move to get up, her arm outstretched reaching for a hoodie hung over the back of the couch that she presumed Lando had ripped off when he first got in the room. Just as her fingers grasped the material, Lando tightened his arms around her, his breath hitching at the lessened contact with the only thing that was holding him together at that point.

“Honey, I need to get your hoodie. You’re freezing and you’ll get sick if you don’t rug up soon. Look, we can shuffle over there together.” Oli held tight to Lando, scooching her body closer to the edge of the uncomfortable bed to reach out for the teen’s hoodie. She got it this time, letting out a breath that she had held in order to stretch her appendage further. She turned back to Lando, his orange and grey hoodie clutched tightly in her hands, his arms still wrapped in a death grip around her waist.

“Can you sit up for me? You’ll feel better once you’re warmer, and you can go right back to holding me once this is on, I promise.” Olivia assured, using her warm hands to coax Lando into a sitting position, his arms still around her, legs coming to rest on either side of her hips as she sat on her knees. His thighs were pressed tightly against hers, trying to keep as many points of contact with her as physically possible, and she would be lying if she said it wasn’t comforting.

Slowly, Oli got one arm off her waist, slipping the orange hoodie onto Lando’s arm, letting him return it to her back once it was pushed up far enough. She did the same with the other arm, pulling it over his head moments after. Once the hood was down off his head, Olivia fixed his hair, small fingers threading through his curls in an attempt to return them to their previous perfection. Lando remained in his spot, eyes trained on a spot on the floor just over Oli’s shoulder.

“How about that water, sweetheart? I don’t care if we have to penguin walk there.” Oli joked, and she saw a flicker of confusion pass over Lando’s face. She figured it would be something to explain in detail at a later date, instead choosing to spin in her spot on the table, still folded up on her knees with Lando’s legs around her.

Olivia slipped off the bed, her own hands covering Lando’s to reassure him that he could keep them around her waist, his body following hers onto his own two feet when she got too far away from him. Oli continued shuffling forward slowly, hands still holding Lando’s while he followed her small steps to the door of the room.

“Are you okay?” Olivia whispered, feeling Lando curl himself around her more, his chin coming to rest over her shoulder, his curls tickling the underside of his jaw. She felt him nod against her and took it as her queue to open the door and begin the slow adventure to the canteen in the hospitality centre. It took them about three times as long as it usually would, and garnered a lot more looks than usual, however a lot of those stares were in awe of the young couple shuffling through the building. The innocence the two possessed while both working in such a cutthroat environment was adorable, the naivety in their unwillingness to let go of each other.

Zak Brown checked his phone when it buzzed, only to be greeted with a video of the company’s youngest employees that he had a certain fatherly protectiveness over. And after seeing them together, much of the McLaren staff were extremely protective of the two youngsters. They were comforted that their young driver had found someone he trusted and could rely on like the two before them.

The connection they made was an unbreakable one, and there was a bright future for McLaren with Lando and Olivia taking on everything side by side.

[pars-ley]

Try again

Pairing: Hoseok x Female reader

Summary: When your job lands you at one of the most famous Fashion shows in Paris, the last thing you expect is to run into an ex - the current most sought after model in the industry.

Genre: Exes to lovers / Smut / Fluff

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Model Hoseok / Dior Hoseok / Unprotected sex (you know the dealio, wrap it when you tap it) / Ever so slight exhibitionism / Nipple play /

Word Count: 2.3k

Beta: @birbdae​ thank you for looking over it twice because I’m so extra (sorry) and thank you for all your help.

Notes: This is for my secret santa project with @thebtswritersclub​ for @yutasgalaxy​ really hope you enjoy! And I also used my square “Jung Hoseok” from my summer bingo card for the @bangtanwritingbingo​ event.

Taglist: @mwitsmejk​ @vantxx95​

The lights go dim and excitement blossoms like spring in your stomach as your eyes remain trained on the runway. Phone at the ready to take notes for this month's fashion article you are in charge of. 

The first model comes out and cameras flash wildly, illuminating the outfit. You scribble away rapidly recounting everything to write up later.

Dior's highly anticipated fashion show, one you had been eagerly counting down the days till. Flying out to Paris was the perfect opportunity for you to mark one destination off your travel list and you have not been disappointed at all. From the architecture to the food, you are undeniably impressed and living one of your ultimate dreams.

It's time for the most awaited outfit yet, everyone was on the edge of their seat poised. You look over at your photographer, he's in position and eager, looking ready to spring.

The lighting and music changes and out walks the model all in black. That's all the detail you notice as your heart stutters and stomach flips as your eyes shift rapidly to his face. 

Jung Hoseok. How did you not know he would be here? 

The cameras flash even more wildly, every photographer wanting to get the best pic of the most sought after model on this runway. Your hand however hovers over your phone, unable to scribble away like you were previously, too distracted by his general presence.

Swallowing the panic you feel rising into your throat you glance at your photographer, his eyes are already on you, pity creasing his brow but a message in his eyes that says "Focus on your job and get it together."

You take a deep breath and compose yourself, making notes on the outfit and nothing more. As soon as your eyes hit the harness stretched across his broad chest however, your legs squeeze together tightly, as not only do previous nights of passion flicker behind your eyelids but the temptation for one last night with him is almost too great to bear.

As you watch him strut down the runway, face impassive and professional, your heart pulls in a thousand directions. Memories of the few years spent together cloud your mind, taking you to another lifetime when he was yours and you were his - before fame, before everything.

You pinch the bridge of your nose hard, willing yourself to focus as you type wildly away on your phone, trying to stay focused.

The show ends a short while after your blast from the past's appearance and all you can think of is getting as far away from him as fast as you can. Before all your hard work of burying your feelings in an attempt to get over him is ruined by your self restraint.

As you head for the exit, a hand lightly grabs your arm. Turning you see a pretty young woman, a badge around her neck and a kind smile on her face, handing you an envelope.

"It's from Hoseok. He asked if I could make sure you get it." She said next to your ear so you could hear over the chatter of the other attendees.

You nod and mechanically take it. She's off through the crowd before you even get a chance to say thank you.

You head to the exit in a daze, clutching the envelope like it holds the answers to life's questions. As soon as you're out in the cool evening air you take yourself off around the corner of the building away from the scattering crowds. Your fingers fumble as you frantically rip at the envelope and open the piece of paper inside, instantly recognising his elegant hand.

Many love letters he would write to you with poetic words scrawled across the page, each sentence a meaningful lyric coming alive as your eyes danced across them with a barrier of tears waiting to fall. Those words tucked away in a box hidden deep in your wardrobe for those moments you wish to relive how he once felt about you.

You read and re-read the note, double checking the words are correct.

"I saw you as you came in, I always had the ability to find you in a crowded room and apparently that hasn't changed. 

I can't believe you're here. Please. Please, meet me at Guy Savoy at 7 o'clock tonight. I would love to see you and speak to you properly. I will book a table under my name. I really hope you show, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

That last line did things to your insides you weren't expecting. Your chest felt full and ready to burst open, love bleeding out of a fresh cut. Maybe you should just go back to your hotel and order room service, or go out for dinner with your photographer seeing as you were both here alone.

But you knew, even as you thought it, you knew you couldn't. You knew you had no intention of doing either. 

Folding up the note and shoving it in your pocket and went in search of your colleague to tell him you wouldn't be travelling back to the hotel with him. He wished you luck, even if there was a hint of apprehension in his tone, you ignored it and took a cab to the restaurant.

Sitting there waiting, your nerves were at their peak. You had chewed the skin along your fingernails until they were sore and you had now resorted to folding your napkin to make different origami shapes. Just as you didn't think your heart could take anymore, you picked up your bag but as you were about to stand and run away, you saw him. Walking towards you, shades on and the most familiar beaming grin that had always made your stomach flip. You couldn't help the pull of your lips, mirroring the same smile he wore.

He breezed up to you and wrapped you in his muscular arms, like a whirlwind his scent intoxicated you and jumbled your mind even further.

"You are a serious sight for sore eyes." he whispers in your ear before pulling away and pushing in your chair as you sit down in a daze.

"You're around gorgeous models all day, I doubt that." you reply, attempting to hide your blush.

He removes his shades and places them on the table, before pushing his fingers roughly through his hair. "Believe me, it’s not as glamorous as people think.”

There’s an awkward silence that falls on your table, with sly, shy glances from you both. 

“How’s it been? Your career I mean.” you blurt out, desperately trying to ease some tension.

He leans back in his chair and shrugs. “I can’t complain, at all. It’s going better than I could have dreamed.”

You nod, taking in how nonchalant he’s being. “I have to admit, I’ve been keeping track.”

“Of me?” he asks, shocked.

“Your career.”

“Really? I’m flattered.” his lips stretch into a toothy grin as a faint scarlet hue spreads across his cheeks.

“You should be very proud of yourself. You’ve accomplished so much, there’s no limit on how far you can go.” you find yourself saying all of this without meaning to.

He covers his face with his hands. “Ok, I appreciate this, really, coming from you this means so much, but I am more interested to hear about you.” he leans forward and places a hand on top of yours, the action causing your heart to soar. “What’s been happening with you? Are you still in the apartment?”

You nod as you take a sip of the champagne the waiter is pouring. “Yep, can’t bear to leave it, I love it there so much, a lot of memories too.” you add sneakily trying to gage his reaction.

His eyes soften. “Yes, we made a lot there.” his fingers entwine in yours, a movement far too comfortable for how long it’s been. "I miss it," he looks into your eyes so fiercely you're slightly taken aback. "I miss us."

Your heart inflates excitedly in your chest as butterflies swarm inside your stomach. But is this a good idea to rekindle an old flame, maybe there was a reason it was extinguished in the first place.

He senses your hesitation. "Are you with anyone?"

You shake your head. "No, I've dated but nothing serious. What about you?"

He laughs a bitter sound. "Same. I've not found anyone that could match up to you."

You hesitate again. "Hoseok…"

"Listen," he puts a hand up quietening you. "I know it was mostly me who instigated us breaking up in the first place but that is my biggest regret. I never should have let you go." he bites back the emotion in his words and swallows.

"But if you hadn't you wouldn't be where you are today." you add, squeezing his hand still clutching yours.

He makes a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. "I left my dream girl to follow my dreams and let me tell you, it wasn't worth it. If someone asked me to choose, it would be you. every. single. time."

He grabs your chair and slides it along closer to him. He reaches out to cup your face. "Please, let me come back." 

His plea does not fall on deaf ears. Your heart knows the decision it's made but you can't form the words to speak. Your libido overtakes the moment and you grab him by the collar of his shirt and crush your lips against his. The taste of him is so familiar and yet new at the same time. Sweet like butter as your mouths melt together as one. His arm around your waist almost pulling you off your chair makes you break away and giggle. The heat in his eyes is almost overwhelming, all your thoughts are no longer in your head but in your groin. He looks so good staring at you like that, like you are the reason for living, how could you not give into him?

"Come back to my hotel?" you whisper urgently.

He nods, throws some cash down for your ordered drinks, takes your hand and pulls you out through the restaurant. You jog along to keep up with his long legged stride. He flags down a cab and you're into it and moving off swiftly while his hands find you again. They roam your body, finding their way under your shirt and to your nipples. He rolls them gently between his fingers as his lips attach themselves to your neck.

His hand glides slowly along your thigh, up your skirt and just when he's about to reach the most desired area the cab stops abruptly, letting you know you've arrived. You groan with frustration but jump out, pulling him into your hotel and leading him up to the room. Your heart pounding so loud in your ears you can't think of anything, nothing but the taste of his lips or the feel of his skin under your fingertips and god, did you want to feel more. 

As soon as your door is unlocked you're on each other. Clothes can't come off fast enough and as they leave a messy path like a trail of breadcrumbs leading towards the bed. 

"God, I have missed you." he says as he glances down at your body before pulling you flush against him.

There's no time for sly touches or exploring, you're both too desperate to feel each other.

Your bare, naked flesh moulds easily together as he enters you, both of your moans echo out across the room. The feeling euphoric as it's what you know and yet what you are no longer used to. He moves inside you with a persistent, desperate rhythm as his hips wind in the most perfect way, hitting that sensitive spot every time and making your toes curl in consequence.

He looks down at you, a soft, determined gaze and says breathlessly, "I love you."

His words are your undoing, as you remember the sweet nothings he used to whisper to you while you were making love before. You unravel around him, blinded by pleasure as your back arches underneath him. He's quick to follow you as you feel his warm seed spilling inside you and you watch his face twist in pleasure, his eyes never leaving yours. The moment, so intense, almost too intense you had to look away.

Both of you breathless and riding on your high, lay back on the bed staring up at the ceiling. A thousand thoughts race through your mind as you panic that you've just made a huge mistake. What if his words weren't genuine? What if he leaves...again? What will you do then? You'll have to start over, all your hard work of pushing him aside.

Almost as if he can sense your rising doubt, his fingers entwine with yours, as he turns onto his side to face you, gently twirling a strand of your hair between his digits.

He watches you closely as if searching your thoughts, your eyes so open and vulnerable - letting him right in, wanting him to silence your fears.

He strokes your face and kisses you so softly your lips melt right into him. You want this. You want him. 

"Hey, I'm serious," he leans back, eyes burning into yours. "I want to come home to you. I want our life back, I want you, always."

Your panicking heart is soothed by his words and you relax and lean into his touch, your limbs softening against him.

"Please, can I have another chance?" he asks, so vulnerable and sincere any doubts are washed away in an instant.

"Let's give it a try." you reply.

He almost blinds you with his sunshine smile as he pulls you against him, his lips dancing happily with yours. And you lose yourself in him completely. You are his, utterly and completely. 

[delimeful]

or set your teeth against my throat (2)

warnings: illness, mild emeto, bad decisions, miscommunication, short panic attack/flashback

---

As the night turned to dawn and then day, Roman didn’t stop running.

He couldn’t stop, even as his pace grew more and more sluggish, his path erratic. Every time he thought about pausing, finding a good campsite and finally letting himself take a breath, it was as though phantom sensations grasped at his skin or tore at his throat.

He kept moving.

It was stupid, probably, being driven forward by fear like a mindless animal. … It was definitely stupid. Still, after ages spent trapped in one form, the full moon’s pull on the wolf in him was irresistible.

For the first time in ages, he worried about the possibility of coming astray of a human settlement once the moon was overhead. Normally, Virgil was the one who dedicated himself to making sure their pack’s turning ground was far from any stab-happy humans, always double and even triple-checking.

In his current state, Roman could barely discern a single natural scent around him, let alone any human scents he should avoid. He kept feeling eyes on him, silent watchers, but the distinction between reality and his own terrified delusions was growing thinner.

When the sun finally sank below the horizon, Roman allowed himself to collapse on a soft patch of earth under a shielding copse of saplings. He had some hope, however shallow, that by wearing himself out, his wolf would spend the night curled up somewhere, settled into a sleep heavy enough to erase the pounding headache settled deep in his skull.

He’d been a fool to let himself hope.

His memories while fully-turned were foggy as usual, but the emotions were clear: he’d spent his entire night on the move. His wolf had been howling long, agonized calls into the dark around him, desperately searching for the other members of his small pack. Desperately waiting for a response that would never come.

To top it all off, when he woke up human-shaped in the early hours of dawn, his headache had only grown worse.

His only turn of fortune was that his wolf hadn’t traveled back the way he’d come, driven away by some immutable sense of danger. He could at least be grateful he wouldn’t have to make up for any lost progress, even if his body was weak and trembling from being pushed past the brink of exhaustion.

The further he got from those bloodsuckers, the better.

His vision blurred slightly with each step. It was seeming more and more likely that he was growing feverish, though it was hard to tell with nobody else around to ask. He kept pressing a hand to his forehead and neck, trying to gauge his temperature, but his hands were warm, too.

He’d complained about his packmates’ terrible circulation and icy fingers before, but there was very little he wouldn’t do for them now… Just the phantom memory of Virgil’s cool hand on his head, voice sharp but touch unbearably gentle, was enough to make tears prick his eyes.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself up on shaky legs. There was no way he could give up now, feverish or not. What would his packmates advise?

“For survival, shelter and water are most important,” he mumbled to himself, wincing at the poor imitation. He cleared some of the raspiness from his throat, imagining Logan’s face when he really got into sharing his newest bit of knowledge. “Running water is preferable to still water, which can carry illnesses, and for larger rivers there is also the potential to find freshwater food sources, like salmon, catfish, bass, um… pike, trout… cod?” He frowned, losing the careful enunciation. “Wait, is salmon freshwater?”

Logan could have listed more off, Roman was sure, but the effort helped cheer him nonetheless. He spent the next few hours winding his way through the forest, attempting every so often to sniff the air for damp soil with little success.

His ears still worked fine, however, and so when he caught the first distant trickle of rushing water, he wasted no time in following the sound. It was no river, but the stream was plenty to help quench the dryness in the back of his throat.

“Go upstream,” he could imagine Virgil demanding, “make yourself harder to track. Wolves aren’t the only ones out there with good noses.”

“The water is so cold, though,” he complained to himself even as he began sloshing through it. “I have squishy human flesh, I’m going to freeze to death.”

Here was where Logan would point out his exaggeration, and Virgil would snap something snarky to distract him from the chill.

The burbling of the water was a poor substitute.

Once his feet grew truly chilled, he waded back out, mimicking Virgil’s voice to caution himself against the more slippery-looking rocks. He probably looked a little silly, holding both parts of a conversation, but it wasn’t as though anyone was around to see.

“Cut me some slack,” he muttered to nobody, allowing the comfort of his wolf form to slide back into place as the day turned to a chilly evening and he lay to rest. “I’m maybe-possibly-feverish, I deserve good things.”

He slept fitfully, and when he woke, there was a gray coat draped over him, and a small pile of walnuts and blackberries sat at his side, the nuts already shelled and the berries freshly washed.

The incredibly suspicious nature of their appearance only stopped Roman from eating them for about five minutes, and four of those five minutes were dedicated to imagining all the reasons Virgil would list to not eat them.

“Sorry, Virge,” he said through a mouthful of fruity deliciousness.

There didn’t seem to be anyone around, and no matter how he buried his face in the coat lining, his nose was too stuffed to pick up anything. It was an extraordinarily soft coat, though, and he felt awfully cold. It was hard for even him to imagine what harm could be done with a coat.

“I’m accepting this Possibly Evil Coat, but only for a little while, so don’t get any ideas!”

The woods were quiet in response to his declaration, and he sniffed daintily before climbing to his feet, internally bemoaning the way the world swayed slightly as he moved.

Couldn’t he just sleep here a bit longer…?

He imagined the unimpressed looks his packmates would give him. Imaginary Virgil in particular wouldn’t stand for sitting around when there was every possibility he was still being hunted.

“For all you know, that vamp was just a sick mind trick, and they’ve been toying with you this whole time!” Virgil would say, jumping to the worst-possible scenario that Roman always stalwartly tried to ignore. He shuddered, glancing around himself.

“You are not helping my mood, mister,” he muttered to Imaginary Virgil as he tromped through the underbrush with much less elegant grace than usual.

The little mystery offerings from the morning had helped stave off his plummeting energy levels, but they weren’t enough. It was only midday when the lightheadedness and the chills shuddering through him became too much, and he found himself collapsed on the ground between one blink and the next.

He was contemplating the benefits of simply remaining facedown on the dirt for a while when a cool hand wrapped around his wrist, carefully tugging him onto his back.

Roman blinked at the face above him, the blurry features slowly resolving themselves into the shape of the vampire who had freed him only nights before. The fear that shot through him didn’t make him any more lucid, and Roman bared his teeth in a snarl that was probably much less fearsome on a human face.

“Told you so,” Imaginary Virgil said, instead of doing anything helpful like tearing a vampire’s throat out. Roman missed Real Virgil.

The vampire was talking, a low, constant noise meant to soothe as he shifted an arm around Roman’s shoulders, lifting him to his feet. The blood rushed to his head, vision going black-- the next thing he knew, he was inside a small cabin, swaddled in blankets, the hearth crackling merrily feet away.

… What had he been worrying about? He couldn’t remember.

A chill shuddered through him. He was still so cold, even as sweat drenched the cloth around him, and he complained relentlessly.

His packmates tolerated his sickbed whining as graciously they always did, though for some reason they were more hesitant than normal to hold him close when he called for them. They seemed to be taking his care in shifts, as there was only ever one person in view, and sometimes he woke up completely alone.

(Strange, since they normally all piled up together when one of them got sick. They probably just needed to prioritize hunting or checking their territory boundaries or something. Roman wasn’t that sick.)

When they were there, Roman rambled and bickered with them nonstop, through shudders and chattering teeth, telling old stories and adding new twists to distract from the sickness ravaging him, only pausing when they pressed coriander seeds or wormwood to his lips.

(That was a little strange. Logan knew mint worked better for Roman’s nausea. Maybe they were out?)

Time passed in a haze, marked only by the frequent offers of fresh water and stale rations. Eventually, he was able to even measure out his healing progress by how often he could keep the aforementioned nutrients down.

(One of them was busy hunting, but somehow there was never any fresh kill.)

He knew his fever had finally, properly broken when he reached out for the one who had been taking care of him all this time, and registered that their skin was icy-cold.

Roman jerked back and then instantly regretted it as every nerve in his body protested severely.

“Ah, careful!” warned the vampire, who was at least smart enough to stay out of immediate biting range. His hands fluttered around as though he was attempting to bat away the dark spots that were currently dotting Roman’s vision.

Unbidden, a rough growl tore from him. He had a heartbeat to feel vindicated at the vamp’s flinch before his breath caught in his throat, kicking off an uncontrollable coughing fit.

Each wheeze brought less and less air, and when he caught the vampire shuffling closer, it suddenly felt like he had no air at all. He hunched over his knees, shifting his hands to cover his neck pathetically, as though the motion could protect him.

“Back off,” he snapped, cursing himself when the words came out as barely more than a choked whisper. How many times had he said some variation on the phrase in the past few weeks? He should have learned by now that it never worked.

When he glanced up, though, he found the vampire had practically teleported all the way across the room. The sight of the vamp peering at Roman worriedly from the furthest corner was odd enough to yank his mind out of the half-formed flashback.

He took a deep breath, trying to remember the grounding exercises Virgil always ran through. His wrists were light, his knees didn’t ache; he wasn’t chained down. There was soft fabric around him, and warmth in the air; it was a far cry from cold cement platforms in lifeless forts.

There was a vampire here, but his eyes weren’t red, and he didn’t wear a cruel smile like a second skin. Roman might still be a prisoner, but he wasn’t there anymore.

Instead, his current location was… a curiously cozy cabin?

Roman blinked. It was a single room, a bit sparse in decor but containing a small coal stove, stocked pantry, and a cheerily roaring fireplace. He was sitting on the solitary bed, a nest of blankets creased around him.

He turned his blank gaze back to the vampire. For a moment, the only noise in the room was the low crackle-pop of burning wood.

“Are you okay?” the vampire finally asked, brow creased with what looked like genuine concern. “You’ve been really burning up, and fevers like that can take a lot out of you. At least,” a pause, “as fire as I know.”

Any and all snappy responses (both literal and metaphorical) flew instantly from Roman’s mind. He groaned and slumped over dramatically, ignoring the way his vision swam slightly at the movement. “Augh, that was terrible!”

The vampire grinned, his smile somehow dorky even with the visible fangs. “You don’t have to tell me twice: I’m a fast burner!”

“Are you sure?” Roman asked. “Because this is the worst thing you’ve done to me yet, and I’m including the mind games, apparent abduction, and imprisonment.”

“Flameous last words,” the vamp said, and then the rest of Roman’s statement seemed to catch up with him. He drooped like a wilting flower. “You’re not imprisoned here! And I’m not trying to... mess with you, or anything.”

Roman gave him an unimpressed look. “Just so we’re on the same page, that’s a yes on you abducting me, correct?”

“I mean, yeah, just a little bit,” the vampire admitted, “but I meant it in a helpful way! I wasn’t going to bother you at first, I promise, but then you got sick, and I could tell how feverish you were just looking at you, and--,”

“Wait,” said Roman, his brain slowly churning through the implications of that sentence, “you were just going to follow me without me knowing, the entire way--,” home, he didn’t say, because the mere thought of accidentally leading a coven of vicious vampires to his vulnerable packmates made his stomach turn, and then he was leaning over and being violently ill in the bucket beside his bed.

A cold weight settled against the back of his neck, soothing against his overheated skin for the few seconds it took him to realize what-- or rather, who it was. He jerked away with a halfhearted snarl, probably looking rightly pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” the vampire said mournfully, stopping him short. “I wasn’t trying to upset you, I just-- I knew it was my fault. If I’d gotten the key sooner, or been braver, you wouldn’t have been out in the cold for so long, you might not have caught sick at all. It wouldn’t be right for me to abandon you.”

“Abandon me?” Roman spluttered. What did this guy think he was, some lost pup? “I can take care of myself just fine alone, thank you very much! I have absolutely no need for suspicious sanguinous stalkers on my tail.”

For emphasis, he shoved the blankets off of himself, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up in preparation to leave.

One blink later, he was facedown on the floor, his body numb yet his nose stinging from the impact. “Ow.”

The vampire offered him a hand up. “Autumn is my favorite season, but that certainly didn’t seem like a very nice fall.”

“Must you kick a man while he’s down?” Roman bemoaned, ignoring the proffered hand in favor of pushing himself up.

His traitorous legs wobbled under him, and he ended up collapsing back into a seated position on the bed, right where he’d started. He felt a wave of familiar despair wash over him. The sickness had sapped every ounce of strength from him; whatever villainous plans lay ahead, he had no chance of foiling them.

… Maybe he could still foil some of them.

Roman met the vampire’s gaze as solidly as he could. “No matter how adeptly you try to play the kindly stranger role, I’m not going to fall for it.” I’m not going to lead you to my family. “You may as well cut your losses and do whatever it is you’re planning to do to me.”

He waved a dismissive hand for emphasis, as if it didn’t matter to him. As if the mere idea of getting so close to freedom and then dying (alone, far from his pack, without them ever even knowing what happened to him) wasn’t enough to make him feel like there were roots tangling in his lungs and weeds clogging his throat.

The vampire nodded slowly, a troubled look on his face. “In that case…”

He moved closer, and Roman focused very intently on not flinching, no matter how badly he wanted to, or how hard his body was already shaking. The vampire reached out--

“My name is Patton,” he said, very carefully offering his hand at the midpoint between them, “and what I want is for you to stay right here in this house until you’re healed, and then you can go wherever you want to go, and I’ll make an oath not to follow.”

“What?” Roman blurted, staring at Patton’s hand with blatant confusion. “You-- I-- What?”

“I really don’t want to hurt you, kiddo.” Roman stiffened, because that was a classic villain line setup if he’d ever heard one, but-- “So, once you’re healed, whatever you need me to do to prove it, I’ll do it.”

Roman’s increasing headache had nothing to do with his fever and everything to do with the oxymoron that was a philanthropist bloodsucker.

What was the right option? He couldn’t get away, but he couldn’t trust that this bizarre hospitality would last, either. Perhaps the best course of action here was inaction-- lulling the vampire into a false sense of security by pretending to be sick even as he grew healthy enough to escape?

Roman could act. He was good at it, and the bar for his illness had been set quite convincingly with his earlier faceplant. He let his muscles go lax, slumping over slightly to give off the impression of conceding without actually ever agreeing to Patton’s proposed plan.

“If you’re so intent on me trusting you, you can start by telling me where I am,” he sniffed, graciously not mentioning the abduction thing again.

Patton brightened, letting his offered hand drop without comment. “This is an aidhouse! It’s part of a system recently set up in this division of the kingdom for common good and to prevent spread of disease.”

That explained the insulated, if somewhat bare, interior. Roman raised a curious eyebrow. “And they’ll let just anyone use it?”

“That’s the principle behind it, yep! Normally, with non-plague cases, an apothecary apprentice would stop by to check in and offer guidance, but I told them I had it apothecovered!”

The puns were apparently a permanent fixture in the guy’s repertoire. Logan would be in agony. Roman ignored the pang in his chest at the thought, leaning further back against the pillow mound. “Yes, you wouldn’t want some poor apprentice to stick around long enough to find out there’s a lone vampire in their midst, would you?”

Dial it back, he could imagine Virgil hissing, as though the emo had any room to talk about unnecessary vitriol.

“Well, no,” Patton admitted, his smile turning a little strained. “But I turned them away because I already have all the experience I need! I worked as a full-time doctor before-- um, before...”

The smile turned full-on tremulous, and Roman was seized by a strange panic at the sight of it. He sprawled over the bed haughtily, the way he always did when demanding attention from his workaholic packmates.

“If you’re such a skilled doctor, then I’m sure you won’t have any problems running me through your treatments so far?” Roman challenged, inspecting his nails. It wasn’t a pointless query, either; some common human treatments were toxic to werewolves.

“Oh!” Patton said, voice still a little choked up. “Of course, let me see…”

The brink-of-tears quality to his words faded as he began to recount everything Roman had missed in his feverish haze. Patton’s exposition was nothing like Logan’s, cheerful rambling and jokes thrown in where Logan preferred efficient lists and muttered tangents.

Roman found himself drifting off to the sound regardless.

It seemed that pretending to trust Patton wouldn’t be as hard as he’d thought.

[ranger-rai]

Alright guys, A lot has happened in the last couple of days so let me catch you all up.

So we have been getting some reports of a "Swarm" of pokemon causing some problems around Sinnoh.

We looked into it and after a couple nights of steakouts, we discovered that our "Swarm" was actually a Purrloin who knew Double Team.

Apparently it had been stealing from alot of small homes, mainly trash.

This Purrloin was incredibly aggressive and seemingly protective of something.

We tracked it down to to a small den just outside of Solaceon Town.

Well we were expecting it to be taking care of its kittens, however we did not expect what we actually found.

-------

We found this Purrloin trying to feed the scraps it stole to a Lycanroc.

The Purrloin was very protective and tried attacking us.

It was surprisingly tough for a single Purrloin, however we managed to restrain it.

However we found it weird that this Dusk Lycanroc wasn't moving or reacting much.

I went and checked it out when it was clear and we found something really unsettling.

This Lycanroc has some spine problems, I know this because it struggled to get up but when it did, it got on four legs, then two legs.

Now a Dusk form Lycanroc is made to be on all four like this

However its back is arced upwards like it's slouching.

It's also shaking a bit, and is covered in scratches and bruises.

Every time I try and get close the Purrloin starts thrashing and clawing.

We let it go and it made its way back to the Lycanroc, and started to guard it again.

We knew this was bad, so we made a plan to try and help them.

-------

We managed to get Purrloin secure once again and Lycanroc into a cage very carefully, but we kept them close together as we transported them.

Lycanroc was surprisingly docile and just seemed tired and dehydrated, so we made sure it got plenty of water.

Purrloin was on edge the whole time, making sure that Lycanroc ate, and keeping us at a distance, but I caught her eating from time to time.

We had to hold her down once again, but she used her double team to evade us for a bit. She really knows how to use that move.

Eventually we restrained her when we got to the Ranger Base and we had a medical technician look at Lycanroc.

They said that it had some severe spine misalignment, not from an injury but from constant strain.

At some point during our conversation, we noticed Lycanroc trying to get up, and "stand up" again on two legs, like a Midnight Form Lycanroc.

It was really odd to see, and the tech helped put it him back onto two legs, but it almost seemed scared to be touched when in that position.

This wasn't battle damage, this was intentional trauma.

Purrloin was definitely upset, and managed to get free and started scratching at the technician.

Thankfully I restrained her so the technician could work more, and I calmed her down a bit.

The tech said that they would need to run some tests on the Lycanroc to see if they could fix his back, so we had to let him stay for a while.

However we couldn't leave Purrloin there in case she tried to attack the tech again.

-------

I didn't want to seperate them, but I needed her to be somewhere safe while the technician did his job, so I got her into a carrier and took her with me on my rounds.

She was hissing and scratching for a while but I sat and talked with her for a bit and she seemed pretty alert but much calmer.

Most of the day was just a usual trip around my areas, however I started finding alot more litter in some areas.

There was alot of trash on the ground in a park area just outside Veilstone City, and normally I would pick it all up, but there was alot, almost like there was a carnival recently there, but there was nothing planned as far as I knew.

I also noticed Purrloin getting really upset and hissing a lot.

I looked around the trash and found a bunch of flyers for some kind of venue.

"Mister E's Enigmas"

The flyer listed a sort of sideshow of oddities.

Things like:

The Fire Breathing Treecko Brothers, Dancing Donphan, and their star attraction-

"The Were-Lycanroc" a pokemon that could switch between forms.

That's when it hit me, and I knew someone was going to get in trouble.

-------

After bringing this information to the technician and my boss Jo. Me and my Ranger Team decided to attend the show incognito to see if we were right, and boy we wish we weren't.

We attended what could only be described as a shifty, pop up carnival.

There were a few games, a couple food trucks, and a large tent that held the "main events".

There were some "exotic" holding cages that people could interact with like a small cage for two Emolga to live in, they could barely get into the air before smacking into the roof.

There was a small area that had a large heat lamp for "desert" pokemon, but it was mostly a browning Cacnea, a Trapinch with barely enough sand to cover its body, and a Salandit which didn't belong there.

There were others but we already knew what those cages would be like as well.

The show kn the main stage was getting ready to start, so we decided to check it out.

"Mister E" took to the stage, he had your typical big top attire, top hat, long tails, but he had a stripey pattern that made him look like a hypnotic wheel.

He introduced his first act, which was "The Fire Breathing Treecko Brothers". I was worried.

Now Treecko is a Grass Type, and it only learns one grass type move naturally: Sunny Day.

They also don't have any natural immunities to fire types, so this didn't make much sense for normal Treecko.

From what I saw in the act, they learned how to eat fire and pretend they were using flamethrower. However you could tell they didn't like it. Treecko are calm and collected pokemon, but those two looked stressed out, and they were molting a bit in certain areas near their face and tails, probably due to the flames and stress.

After them was the "Dancing Donphan". Donphan is a very heavy pokemon, and it's main skill is rolling like a tire.

This Donphan looked much lighter, like it hadn't been fed its regular amount to keep it healthy.

Minnie also mounted out that the music playing during the dance had a weird sound mixed in. Basically, whenever we heard the sound, Donphan would do a move like jumping or rolling over. The sound was similar to a sort of crash, but it was clear that it was a sound that Donphan was afraid of.

Now came the finale, "The Were-Lycanroc" however that part didn't happen, and instead they brought out some clowns and the Treecko Brothers again.

Thats when we knew what was really happening.

-----

I went back to check on Lycanroc who was sleeping like a log with Purrloin right next to it.

I didn't remember any cages with any feline pokemon in them so maybe it was just a wild Purrloin, but I wasn't going to disturb them to find out.

The doctor told me that it might take some time, but Lycanroc's spine and back legs were forced to move in positions they weren't supposed to for so long, that it would take some time, therapy and equipment to help it.

If there was a chance to help this poor pokemon I knew we would take it, but we also couldn't leave all of those other pokemon to suffer.

We were about to get really busy at the Ranger Base.

------

The next day, Me and Minnie went incognito one more time and we had to sit through that horrible show once more.

We had Skip with us, helping to send info and let us know of any devices or intercept their communications.

Turns out we didn't know that was happening because they had police scanners to avoid getting caught and they had wireless security cameras inside the tent.

They were prepared, but so were we.

My whole team was on board, both Humans and Pokemon.

We had a plan that began with Kuriboh knocking out some generators by sneaking around and unplugging everything he could.

That caused some confusion for a bit while we got in place. While they went to secure their "precious cargo", we made our presence known.

Eddie was outside the tent, dealing with the muscle and moving crews, his Bewear is very strong and pretty quick too, so we didn't need to worry about them much.

However we still had Mister E.

I told Bliss to keep an eye on him so we wouldn't loose him in the panic, but we had a delay as some of the Treeco Bros fire got out of control and some of the tent started to catch on fire.

Minnie and her Cloyster were immediately ready to deal with it and she was ready to help the Treeco Bros as well.

Bliss was able to keep tabs on the ringleader who was trying to get into his van and split, most likely with his cash.

However, Sylvester doesn't like people who mistreat pokemon, and Jo's Tangrowth has some really strong vines. Strong enough to rip car doors off hinges.

------

We had caught this terrible man, and we discovered he had been doing this for a couple of years, just now making his way through Sinnoh, and he was looking for some pokemon to add to his show.

We also watched some of his security tapes and we learned that "Were-Lycanroc" was really just a Dusk Form that he forced to stand up and slouch over by constantly whipping with a flexible stick. And with the assistance of red lights, smoke machines and music, hey could make people think it was changing forms.

We also learned that Purrloin was tossed into Lycanroc's cage, possibly as a "play thing" but I guess he actually made a friend either her and hiding her from Mister E, and she had been caring for him as well, stealing food and causing trouble for them whenever she could.

Needless to say, we were able to get them arrested, and we are now in the process of evaluating some of these pokemon, but we may have too many to deal with here.

We might need to reach out for some help.

------

In the case of Lycanroc and Purrloin, they are comfortably resting in holding, and Lycanroc is be getting fitted for some equipment to help its spine and legs heal.

I'll be checking on them soon, but for now me and my team need to rest after this long day.

[sweetcathedral]

Note: Finally revamped this story I had in my docs for a couple of months! I had to buy up all the mangas to fully understand the use of cursed energy & techniques since they contain detailed explanations from Akutami. Also had to take out ‘fillers’ since my intention was to keep it a short story that can either stand alone or could turn into a mini series later on, if I wanted to. My intention with this piece was more about story telling than nsfw, so skip to the last segment for nsfw. Hope y’all enjoy!

⚠️: 18+, backstory, plot, light bondage, fingering, raw, breeding

It was a bright and early morning for you to be running errands, but you were too excited to keep still, since Nanami was able to book a day off for you. You decided to pass the time grocery shopping for the ingredients you needed for lunch and dinner later on. Should I make macarons for dessert this time?

“Are . . . are you, o—okay? . . .” an eerie voice stops you in your tracks.

A cursed spirit hovers over the rails on the bridge ahead of you. You pass through this bridge often and the cursed spirits you encounter were usually no more than grade 3 at most, but this one was a grade 1. Nanami never let you anywhere near a curse that was more than a grade 3, probably because he didn’t want to risk the chance. Although you weren’t a Jujutsu sorcerer like he is, he trained you as if you were one.

You look to see if there was anyone around. No one. Carefully, you approach the curse, who’s taking no interest in you,

“I’m sorry,” you softly muttered. Upon absorbing the spirit through the brush of your finger, a series of feelings and memories flood your mind. Sadness, anger, jealousy, regret, anxiety, depression, mourning, resent. A funeral, a woman jumping off the bridge, failed tests, a child being burnt by cigarettes. The feelings and memories were never this vivid to you. Ah, I should’ve ignored it, you thought to yourself as your vision began to blur. But the last time you ignored one was back home—when your ex decided to take their own life. Everything went black.

It was only a fly head, but as time passed by it slowly grew on your ex, taking a toll on their physical health, then their mental health. After finishing their university degree, the job they finally landed was at a black company. The more hours they racked up at work, the less time you spent with each other.

“Sorry, I’ll be coming home late again.”

“Can we reschedule?”

“I’m afraid I can’t make it today.”

“How about another time?”

“Sorry, I need to take this call. It’s for work.”

Day by day they became distant and unresponsive to you. You were probably just as frustrated as they were. A feeling you’ll regret when the company calls to inform you of your ex’s body being found outside of work. They had jumped off the roof of the building. When you arrived at the morgue, a cursed spirit you haven’t seen before was latched to their lifeless body. The fly head you last saw had grown into a curse during the time they were away from you. Without hesitation, you absorbed it through the palm of your hand and all of their emotions and memories clouded your mind. Pain, stress, pressure, anxiety, depression, resentment, jealousy, anger, frustration.

“We’re on a tight schedule this week. I need this done by the end of the day.”

“You don’t have the luxury of a break right now.”

“What do you mean you can’t get it done? Do you know how important this is?”

“The meeting wasn’t a success. I’m gonna have to demote you.”

“Better than being fired.”

“Hey, if you do this for me I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks to your hard work I was able to get promoted.”

All of their darkest memories played through your head, all the way until they walked to the roof of the building and jumped off. When you got back home, you broke down and cried in guilt and shame. You should’ve dealt with it before all of their feelings accumulated past the point of saving. The company.

After your emotions calmed down, you changed into a simple black outfit: a baseball cap, tee, jeans and your leather boots. That same night, you decided to break into the company and out of pure anger and regret, you take on every curse you saw in your path.

“Emerge from darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure,” Nanami chanted.

The veil spills over the building, where a numerous amount of employees committed suicide. Branding it as stigmatized.

“There was a recent suicide report this morning,” Ino looks over to the stained silhouette on the pavement before following Nanami.

The duo entered the building and scanned through each floor up until the roof.

“Hey, isn't the building supposed to be crawling with curses? Cause there wasn’t any on my way here,”

“Something’s not right,” Nanami thought for a moment, “Ino, did you bump into anyone on your floors?”

“Nope. They emailed the president to make sure that the building was empty,”

“Are you sure?”

“You wanna double check with me?”

Nanami and Ino make their way back down, this time examining every single room and closed door. There was no trace of residuals either. Usually there would be a few fly heads here and there, but it was spotless—a complete ghost town. Nothing?

“NANAMI!”

Without hesitation, Nanami sprinted to where Ino shouted. When he flung the door open, Ino was being engulfed by a large curse, similar to that of a human centipede. This must be the one that ate all the other curses.

“Ino! Hold still!”

Just as Nanami aimed his technique, you absorbed the curse from behind, freeing Ino and pushing him out of the way. Resulting in you being hit by Nanami’s cursed energy across your upper body. They quickly rushed to your side,

“We have to get her to a hospital!” Ino panics as he puts pressure on your wound. You were out cold and unresponsive, but you still had a faint pulse. Nanami immediately takes off his blazer and bundles it up, applying it to your wound.

“It’ll be too late when she reaches the hospital,” he closes his eyes to think for a quick moment. Shit! “Tell Gojo to get Ieiri here!” he tosses his phone to Ino, already dialing Gojo’s phone. Please, don’t die. Your pulse started to fade and your body went cold. Please . . .

Before Gojo was able to answer, your eyes flutter open and you look around to see Nanami and Ino hovering over you in shock.

“Huh? Who are you people?” you slowly get up and notice your ripped top covered in blood, “eh? EH?!”

You patted yourself in a panic. You’ve seen blood before in movies, but never this much blood in real life. There was no sense of pain and the gash was gone, leaving no scar behind. Nanami swings his blazer over you,

“You stained it, but it’s better than nothing,”

“Stained? I stained it?” his blazer was soaked in blood. “Wait, this is my blood?!”

“Um, yeah, . . . you kinda died,” Ino responded from behind him.

“Hellllloooooooo! I picked up, you should be grateful!” Gojo’s voice shouts from the phone.

Nanami takes his phone back from Ino and hangs up.

“Can you stand?” he averts his eyes back to you.

“Um,” you look down and wiggle your toes to see if your legs were injured before standing. No sign of pain, but they were trembling so you kneeled instead.

“What are you doing here? ‘Cause I doubt you work here.”

Feeling caught, you frantically try to make up a quick excuse.

“. . . revenge,” there wasn’t an excuse good enough to hide what you were doing, so you told the truth. The whole truth: from when you first saw the fly head to how you ended up at the company on personal terms.

“You know, you have talent for someone who’s not familiar with curses. Your body unconsciously healed itself,” Ino pointed out. He was comfortablely laying on his stomach, his hands propping his head up and his legs sprawled out on the floor. Nanami was intently listening to you, leaning against the wall.

“Is anyone else in your family able to do that?” Nanami asked.

“No. At least, I don’t think so. I’ve always lived with my grandparents, so I don’t know much about my birth parents,”

Cursed spirits were an everyday thing to you. For as long as you could remember you’ve always been able to see them, it was only until you pointed one out to your grandmother that not everyone could see them. As for your supposed talent, you only learned that you were able to absorb curses a couple years ago. You paid no mind to it, but now that you’ve met Ino and Nanami it’s different now, and confusing.

Ino talked to you about their Jujutsu world. The meaning of curses, cursed techniques, cursed energy, him, Nanami, Gojo, the higher ups, the students, the school, and more. Nanami stood there in silence, listening to your conversation between you and Ino, only interacting when prompted.

“HEY!” a shout echoed through the building, startling the three of you.

“What the—”

“Ino, get her out of here.”

“But isn’t that just Gojo?”

“Leave. Gojo can’t know about you.”

Nanami quickly helped you and Ino up, pushing you through the door before closing them.

“Hey! Who said you could hang up on me like that!” you can hear Gojo through the doors.

“You came here ‘cause I hung up on you?” Nanami asked, not hiding his annoyance.

Ino holds his finger up to his lips, telling you to keep silent as the two of you quietly walk out the building, the sound of Gojo and Nanami’s bickering fading away.

“Man, we’re finally out,” Ino sighs.

“Oh, I still have Nanami’s blazer,” you start to take it off, but Ino stops you.

“It’s fine. Keep it as an excuse for you to see him again. Here,” he pulls his phone out, “if you’re comfortable, I can type out our infos in your phone.”

Without thinking much about it, you hand him your phone. He adds both their contact info before waving his goodbyes and heading back into the building. The whole night felt like a fever dream, but the feeling of Nanami’s blazer around you reassured you that what happened that night was real and that you’ll live to see another day.

“NA~NA~MIN~CHAN~!” Gojou shouts from the door of the lounge. Tch. Nanami sighs from his seat, casually reading the business and stock section of the newspaper.

“What are you doing on your day off? Cause if you—,”

“Nothing.”

“Boo, why don’t—,”

“No.”

“I didn’t even finish what I was saying yet!”

“Declined.”

“. . .” Gojo stares at him in silence before punching his middle finger through Nanami’s newspaper. For fuck sakes. At this point, Nanami’s patience has run out and he rips the newspaper in half, exposing the rest of Gojo’s arm. He kept up with Gojo’s antics for far too long, that even Gojo was surprised he lost his composure.

A series of bickering and material noises can be heard coming from the lounge. As Yaga was about to open the door to see what all the yelling was about, Gojo ran into him, trying to escape from Nanami’s beating.

“Principal Yaga! Perfect timing ‘cause I think you should reconsider my proposal to put that man on a leash!” Gojo points to an exhausted Nanami in overtime mode.

“. . . Get off of me,” instinctively, Yaga had his arms out when Gojo comfortably jumped into them.

“Principal Yaga, apologizes. I’ll clean up right away,” Nanami collected himself and bowed.

“Don’t bother. Satoru will clean this mess,”

“HUH?!”

In the end, Yaga had produced several cursed corpses to monitor Gojo so that he finishes cleaning up and repairing the damages.

“It’s my first time hearing you book a day off. Never took you as someone who lets themselves rest,”

“Working alongside Gojo has made me rethink my decisions,” Nanami doesn’t know why, but ever since he helped you that day Gojo’s been especially clingy to him. Like a little sibling asking to be babied and given attention 24/7, it was annoying and drained his energy every day. Did he find out? The reason Nanami had been keeping you a secret from Gojo and everyone else (except for Ino) was to keep you free from their restrictions and expectations. Knowing Gojo, he would immediately use you against the higher ups, so Nanami chose to stay quiet about you. Keeping you as far away from their world as possible, but conversing with you regularly wasn’t helping nor making it easier for him. He should’ve cut all ties with you the moment you messaged him about his blazer, trying to return it. He had more than enough money to easily replace it, but . . . in all honesty, he just wanted to see you again. Don’t bring personal feelings into work, don’t bring personal feelings into work, don’t bring personal feelings into work, he repeated to himself over and over again.

It’s been a little over a year since you first met, but even if that was enough time for you to move on he still felt guilty falling for you. To Nanami, it felt wrong liking someone who had just lost a loved one, but overtime the temptation of taking a step forward kept growing on him. Suddenly, the vibration of his phone goes off. Ino?

“Hello?”

“Nanami! She won’t wake up, the idiot went and took care of a grade 1,” Ino panicked.

Tch.

“I thought I told you to keep the area free of curses,”

“I did. I don’t know where this one came from, though,”

“I’m on my way,” Nanami hangs up and excuses himself for the day.

Please be okay.

The sound of quick shuffling and frantic mumblings start to get louder as you come closer to waking up. Someone’s here? Nanami? You open your eyes and look around to see Ino pacing back and forth beside you,

“Ino? What are you doing—?” a flood of memories rush back to you: your unfinished errands, the ingredients, the bridge, the curse, collapsing, an unfamiliar figure. Could that be . . . “Hey, how’d you know where I was?”

“Hm? Oh, your neighbour called me and told me that you collapsed at the bridge. He said that he helped carry you home, but to come check up on you just in case,”

You think back to your neighbours, but no one comes to mind who’d be willing to help you. The neighbours you’re surrounded by are the types to call an ambulance, if they ever came across a situation like that. You don’t even converse with them much, since Nanami wanted your interactions to be kept to a minimum. So over protective. As you get up from your couch a wave of dizziness falls over you, making it hard for you to stand.

“Are you okay?” Ino rushes to assist you and settles you back down on the couch.

“Yeah, just a head rush,”

“I’ll go get you some water,” he runs to the kitchen (not that it’s far).

Ino was like a little brother to you and Nanami, he always kept an eye on you because in his words “if something bad were to happen to you, I just know Nanami would break inside”. You look down at your hands, still trembling from the curse you dealt with earlier, but feeling nothing out of the ordinary. The first time you absorbed a curse that strong was when you first met Ino and Nanami, but there were no signs of repercussions. The amount of energy that cursed spirit held was reversed to heal your wound and bring you back to life. You hear the front door being opened and see Nanami rush into the room, he sighs a breath of relief upon seeing you.

“Welcome back,” Ino says from the kitchen.

You try to welcome him too, but you were scared he was going to lecture you about safety and all that, so you kept quiet. Even though you’re avoiding his eyes, you can still feel them boring into you. He walks over and lowers himself at your eye level, taking your trembling hands into his.

“. . . I was about to lecture you, again, but I’m happy enough to see you alive,”

You finally look up to meet his eyes. Although he’s holding a stern face now, you can tell that he was just worried. Is he still hung up about that accident?

“I’m fine, you know it’s not like last time,” you softly reassure him.

“I know . . . I was still worried, though,” his thumbs brush over your hands.

Ino comes from around the corner with a glass of water, taking a seat beside you on the couch. After both of you fill Nanami in about what happened to you, Ino says his goodbyes, leaving just the two of you alone.

“Man, must be nice coming home to a girl after a long day at work. Good for Nanami,” he says to himself, whistling out the door. He deserves it.

All of a sudden, something latches tightly over his mouth and throat, dragging him into an empty ally. Ino manages to loosen himself out of the grip and turns to see,

“Gojo?!”

“Ya-ho!”

Gojo waves his hand with a stupid grin plastered across his (pretty) face. After finishing (cheating) his duties at the lounge room, he changed out of his usual uniform and made his way back here. His all black outfit consisting of sunglasses, a loose tee, jeans, and oxfords.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I didn’t know you were the one that’d come check up on her, what a surprise.”

“Wait, how’d you—!” the call flashed in Ino’s mind. “You were the neighbour that called me?”

“Ding, ding, ding!”

Nanami’s already stressed enough. How long has he known?

“If you’re thinking about how long I’ve known, then it’d be ever since the day he hung up on me when you guys were at that black company mission.”

How immature. “Then were you also the one that set up the grade 1 curse?”

“I mean, duh.”

Ugh, crazy. “Just so you know I plead the fifth,”

“Is that an American joke you learned from her? Anyways,” Gojo crosses his fingers and pulls his sunglasses down. “Domain expansion: Unlimited Void.”

“Nanami, wait,” you pull away from him for a moment to catch your breath, but he pulls you back in for a deeper kiss.

Once Ino left and the door clicked closed, Nanami threw himself at you in a heated flash. At first, it was the feeling of his hands tracing your body and now it’s his soft lips leaving marks along your neck and collarbones. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch while you’re facing him, prettily settled on his hips. You slip out of your top and bra, since it was already half way off from Nanami fondling you underneath your clothes. You can feel his bulge as you teasingly grind your hips. His hand grips your hips,

“Keep doing that and I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you whisper in his ear before taking his hand and guiding it to the wet spot underneath the slit of your satin skirt. Without wasting his chance, he twists his fingers in you, holding you down on his hips and watching you melt into lewd expressions, burying your face in his chest as your hand clenches his shirt. Only gasps and moans were able to tumble off your wet lips as your body twitches from ecstasy.

“That’s a good girl,” his voice reverberates down the nape of your neck. He loosens his tie to bind your arms behind you, switching your position so that your back is facing him now. Knowing what he’s about to do makes your stomach flutter. You raise your trembling hips a little, feeling him brush the tip of his cock along your slick folds before pushing you down on him.

“Haa!” the force of it sends a shuddering wave through your body.

“You told me not to hold back, so don’t you start complaining now,” Nanami grips your face and turns it slightly towards him, kissing your tears away. The feeling of his rough hands slowly drags down to your throat and tightly grips at the sides. He thrusts into you hard as you beg for him to fill you up inside. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix stroking every inch deeper into you.

“Fuck,” he groans. A warm feeling fills you up in your lower abdomen and gushes out onto the couch. You and Nanami fall back, panting to catch your breaths.

“Are you okay? I hope that wa—,” you shut him up with a kiss. Slowly lifting your hips back up, you feel his cum dripping down your thighs. You slip his cock back inside you, his hands embracing you once again as he gets bigger. Unable to focus, you fall into a drunken daze getting lost in his pleasure.

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet ugly asks, 18 with the ot4? nsfw, if possible? thanks

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW.

18: we were just introduced at a party by our mutual friend and when my partner comes to join us, you freak out because you were just outside making out with them and you pull me aside to tell me

“Duck! Over here!” Aubrey waves him through the crowd, pointing to the lumberjack lookalike next to her, “this is the guy I was telling you about. Barclay’s an old friend of Dani's and, get this, he and Indrid know each other too. Wait, where is mr. mothman?” Aubrey cranes her neck.

“He had to work a late shift, but he says hi. Literally” He fumbles his phone, “fuck, sorry, first thing to go when I’ve been drinkin is my coordination.” He eventually triumphs, showing them the photo of Indrid, silver hair tied back and Void the Rat perched on the sleeve of his ‘Waffle House’ shirt. The sticker on the photo says “Hi!”

“Aww” Barclay’s voice is the epitome of gentle giant, “he always wanted a rat. I’m glad he got one.”

“Whelp, now that I got you two talking, I’m gonna go spend some ‘quality time’ with my girlfriend.”

“Just don't get caught makin’ out in a closet again.” Duck calls. Aubrey flips him off with a smile.

“So how did you and Indrid--oh, there you are babe. Thought you mighta snuck out to take a work call.”

“No, just had to de-escalate a shoving match on the back porch. I know you love Jake, but maybe next time we should just have him over rather than coming to the kind of party we outgrew in undergrad. I’m discovering I don’t enjoy being under the influence in this kind of cramped party anymore."

“Yeah, not really loving the noise. I lose my voice enough in the kitchen. Duck, this is my boyfriend, Joseph. Joseph, this is Duck, he’s a friend of Dani and Aubrey’s.”

Duck crunches his cup as his mind takes a violent spin an hour into the past.

He’d been out on the side deck getting some air and sipping his beer when a guy who looks like he walked in from the set of some splashy T.V show where everyone is hot joined him. His lips looked damn good whenever he sipped his beer and Duck did his best to turn on the southern charm. It was sort of working, until he complimented the guys button up; it was covered in drawings of cryptids--including mothman, Indrid’s favorite--and fit him in the way that made Duck want to rip the buttons off with his teeth. As soon as he demonstrated his enjoyment of listening to a hot guy talk about monsters, the taller man moved gradually closer, bumping shoulders and locking eyes with growing boldness. When Duck said the song booming out of the house was his go-to for putting the moves on someone, the other man asked to see his technique.

They spent the next three songs in the darkest corner of the porch, Duck’s back pressing into metal slats as his new friend wove his fingers into his hair and teased their tongues together with an experts touch.

When Duck breathlessly asked if he wanted to go somewhere more private, he murmured, “Only after we’ve had a chance to talk about some things.”

Then his phone buzzed and he was gone, leaving Duck horny and tipsy under the stars.

Back in the present, he does everything possible to keep from meeting Joseph’s eyes as he mumbles, “I, uh, I, I need some help with somethin in the kitchen? Fuck, yeah, kitchen, Barclay can you come help?”

“Sure. Be right back, babe.”

The kitchen is packed with people doing ill-advised things with drinks, so Duck keeps Barclay in the hall as he whispers, “Man, I, I’m so fuckin sorry but I gotta say somethin’. Joe and I, we, uh, we already met.”

“Makes sense, he’s been in town a year. I just got here.”

“That ain’t the kind of meetin I mean. We got a little, uh, friendly on the porch tonight.”

Barclay gives an “ah” of understanding. Then he chuckles, “thought he looked a little ruffled when he passed me earlier.”

“I’m real fuckin sorry, I didn’t know. ‘Drid and I got an, an agreement, but I shoulda checked to see if he was datin someone.”

“That would have been smart.” Joe appears at Barclay’s shoulder, “but that’s why I said we needed to talk before we did anything else.” He strokes Barclay’s beard, “you and Indrid aren’t the only ones with an open relationship of sorts.”

“Ohthankfuck.” Duck slumps against the wall.

“While I was making sure no one made a punch that could give them alcohol poisoning, you were getting hot and heavy? That’s not fair, babe.” Barclay teases.

“I’ll make it up to you, big guy. Are you safe to drive?”

“Gonna give it another half-hour, just to be safe. You need a ride home, Duck?”

“Uh, sure, that’d be great.”

Soon, he’s bundled in the back of a Subaru, Joe sitting beside him while Barclay navigates through Saturday night traffic. They luck out; the game ran long, so they’re not fighting the throng coming out of the football stadium. When they reach his apartment, Joe stops him and hands Duck his phone. Duck didn’t even feel him take it in the first place. As he waves goodnight, he spots a new number sitting in his contacts and smiles.

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

“...the point is, it amuses me that Joseph shares my taste in me.” Indrid sips his white chocolate mocha, then yawns wide enough for Barclay to spot his tongue piercing, “apologies, I didn’t get to bed until three.”

“Jesus, man, gonna tell Duck to start knocking you out.”

“I was working on commissions.”

Barclay gives him a disbelieving look.

“....I was working on commissions until midnight. Then I spent three hours watching videos on the finer points of home entomology.”

“There it is. You can’t fool me, I remember what you were like at sleepovers.”

“It was very important to read every single Eyewitness book your parents generously bought you.” Indrid takes another sip with an imperious tilt of his head.

Barclay bumps his unoccupied hand, “It’s so fucking nice to see you again.”

Indrid looks at him over his glasses, brown eyes as beautiful as they were when he was sixteen, “Likewise. Oh!” He perks up, “do you know what this means? We can have a double-date! I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“Sure Joseph will be into it; he has a spreadsheet of optimal date locations. Bet he’ll have fun making one for double-dates.”

“That is...exceptionally geeky.”

Barclay sends a love-struck smile into his coffee cup, “Yeah, he is.”

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

Joe is more diabolical than Duck gave him credit for. And he thought he was pretty fucking cunning after he suggest seeing the local hockey team; the chilly arena gave Indrid and excuse to cuddle up to anyone who held still for too long and gave Joe plenty of opportunities to make double entendres about sticks in Duck’s ear.

But a night out at “Woofs” AKA the kind of gay bar where Duck and Barclay get hit on constantly is a whole new level of torment. Especially because Indrid hangs off Duck proudly (when he’s not teasing Barclay for the number of free drinks he’s getting) and Joseph even asks him to dance. When he peeks over the taller man’s shoulder, he sees Barclay resting his hand on Indrid’s arm while whispering something that makes him grin.

Dancing really is the most fitting thing he could be doing, because it’s what all four of them have chosen to do about this; dance around the fact that Indrid and Barclay dated, dance around the fact Joe and Duck kissed, danced around the fact that they’re more or less acting like a polycule already.

“Oh no.” Joe mutters, eyes on the door, “things are about to get loud.”

Duck’s about to point out that the club is already loud when he’s pulled out of the path of not one, but two bachelorette parties. They opt to stay, although Barclay gets hit on by someone who doesn’t believe he’s gay. Joe takes him onto the floor for a slow dance while Duck steps into the bathroom. When he comes out, his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“You guys seen ‘Drid?”

Joe shakes his head, all three of them already moving for the door. They find Indrid across the street on a bench, hunched over and tapping on his knees.

“‘Drid?” Duck sits gently beside him, “you get overwhelmed?”

Indrid nods.

“You wanna head home?”

Another nod. Duck suspects the overstimulation spiked without warning, which usually means…

“You need to be nonverbal for a bit?”

This time Indrid looks at him when he nods, then cringes when he sees Joe and Barclay are watching.

“Our place is closer.” Joe offers, copying Duck’s tone, “we can all bus back there so you can be somewhere quiet. Or, um, if you need it to just be you two, that’s fine too.”

Indrid holds up a finger, indicating option one. Duck helps him up and let’s him stay hidden against his shoulder while they wait for the bus.

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

This used to terrify Barclay. He and Indrid would be hanging out, would be stealthily holding hands in the top row of the football stadium, and his boyfriend would shut down. Barclay, sensing distress, would try to figure out what was wrong, would start to panic when Indrid couldn’t communicate the things happening in his mind and body. They had more than one fight where his attempts to help only made Indrid more overstimulated to the point he snapped at him to fuck off (and, on one occasion, hissed at him).

They worked it out eventually, Barclay keeping a mental list of things that soothed his friend. Watching Duck do some of them, how calm and loving he was, makes something complex bloom in his chest, as vibrant and beautiful as the Dahlias Duck brought them from the garden (“weather’s been so fuckin weird things are bloomin when they shouldn’t”).

When they make it home, Duck stops in the living room and looks between Indrid and Barclay for a moment. Then he murmurs, “‘Drid, you want Barclay to keep you company for a bit?”

Indrid smiles and nods, takes Barclay’s hand and follows him to the bedroom. He lets his memories drive, keeps the light off, arranges his body so Indrid can relax against him, and pets his hair with slow, light motions. His friend hums, meaning he’s on the right track. As he strokes his head he notices the black roots peeking through the silver; it was jarring to see Indrid with pale hair when all his memories were of dark locks of it falling over his face or catching on Barclays hands.

He looks good with the silver. More like himself.

Metal pokes his chest. He takes the glasses Indrid hands him, sets them on Joseph’s stack of library books, then gives a startled, “nnfph” as his friend pulls Barclay on top of him.

“Like the weight” Indrid mumbles, wrapping his arms around him. The longer they lay there, the easier it is to overhear the conversation in the other room.

“I feel awful, if I’d known I’d have never recommended we go somewhere like a loud bar.”

“S’okay, Joe. ‘Drid is still a little wary of tellin people that’s something he has to consider when goin’ out; Dani and them get it, but other folks think he’s bein’ a buzzkill.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re tellin me. Besides, sometimes it comes up so fast, or happens in places he ain’t anticipatin it. He’ll be okay, especially with Barclay takin’ care of him.”

A pause, then, “Do you need someone to, um, take care of you?”

“Joe-”

“It’s alright if the answer is no. But part of my plan was to get everyone in a, um, bit of a frisky mood.”

A snicker, “Frisky?”

“I was trying not to be too crude.”

“Joe, you know how I feel about you. But we gotta check with the others to be sure everythin is on the level.”

“Tell them to come in.” Indrid whispers, a smile plain in his voice.

“Uh, babe? Could you and Duck come in here a sec?”

“Everythin oka--ffft” Duck snorts a laugh, “guess he improvised not havin a weighted blanket.”

“That I did.”

Duck bursts into a grin, hurrying to settle on the bed near Indrid’s head, “Hey, sugar. How you feelin’?”

“Much better. It helps that this one is very soothing.” He toys with Barclay’s hair, sending goosebumps up his arms, “though it seems he had a slighty different reaction to our contact.”

Barclay was so distracted by the conversation that he hadn’t realized his cock was hardening along the familiar warmth of Indrid’s thigh whenever one of them shifted.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright. In fact, it is rather relevant to what you two were discussing in the hall. Am I correct that we all wish to be in some form of polyamorous relationship with each other?”

“Yes” say two voices along with his own.

“Wonderful. I suggest we hash out details later. Right now, it seems you two have, ah, unfinished business.”

“Fuckin finallyAH” Duck cackles as Joseph knocks him backwards, kissing him frantically while yanking up his shirt. As soon as his belly is exposed Joseph begins pawing and groping from there up his sides. Indrid nudges Barclay so they can sit up, allowing the other two more room to disrobe. Or, more accurately, for Joseph to disrobe both himself and Duck, since the shorter man is having trouble moving his limbs between bursts of laughter and moaning.

Joseph crawls backwards, shoving Duck’s legs apart and groping his thighs, “I’ve wanted to get my hands on these since the party. Lord almighty did you look good in those jeans.” He kisses his way up the left thigh, moaning and mouthing at the skin. His posture puts his perfect ass in the air, which happens to be one of Barclay’s favorite views in the whole world. He unzips his pants, fights to get his cock out as Indrid begins offering commentary from beside him.

“Mmmm, were I not still rather exhausted, I’d make him do that to us both.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move his mouth from where it’s teasing Duck’s inner thigh.

“Know you would.” He reaches down to play with Joseph’s hair, “‘Drid’s got a whole fantasy where you blow him while I sit on his face.”

“Funny” Barclay’s voice is turning rough with desire,“he’s got one where he takes all three of us at once.”

Joseph’s face lacks any trace of self-consciousness, a rare thing for him, which means this whole arrangement is fucking brilliant. He simply nods, then takes Duck’s dick into his mouth.

“JEsus, fuck, Joe, ohfuckyeah.” Duck holds Joseph’s head encouragingly, “shoulda known you’d be good at this, you’re so fuckin good at everythin, fuck, fuck.”

Barclay grips his cock, trying to stroke in time with movements of Joseph’s head. Slender fingers carefully push his aside as Indrid purrs, “allow me.”

“You, you don’t have to, you said you were tired-”

“Not too tired for this” he strokes up more firmly, then brushes their lips together, “or this.”

It’s like tasting Hershey Chocolate or Marionberry Pie, transporting him back to their shitty hometown in Eastern Oregon, to summer heat on his skin and basement air in his nose as Indrid proved that yes, kissing boys was what he wanted to do.

Indrid’s certainly gotten better at it since then. Barclay likes to think he has, hopes the other man is feeling even half the things currently piling up in Barclay’s chest.

“Oh.” Indrid sighs as he pulls back, “that’s even better than I remember.”

A particularly loud moan from Joseph, underscored by Duck cursing happily, brings them back to the present.

Barclay moans as Indrid’s hand moves more deliberately.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Uh huh, c-couch, in that, fuck, that basement rec room at my house.”

“You came so fast.”

“Can’t really blame me.”

“Given the sounds he’s making, he might do the same thing now.” Joseph smiles at them from over Duck’s knee, “that’s one of the best things about you. You’re so sensitive, big guy.”

Barclay whines his name. His boyfriend winks, then dives back down to render Duck speechless.

“You really are” Indrid nips his ear, “remember when we, ah, lost it to each other?”

“Mmmhmm” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might make all this last longer. Joseph echoes the noise, making Duck groan.

“Just picture it, Joseph” Indrid is getting into it now, panting and pink-cheeked, “Barclay, eighteen and even shyer than he is now, in my lap, begging me to fuck him.”

‘I, I wasn’t the only one begging.” He grins.

“Of course not. I was desperate to get to it because just seeing you naked had me certain I was going to--one moment” he releases Barclay’s cock, ignoring his whimper to clamber into a position that allows him to kiss Duck as the shorter man grinds into Joseph’s mouth. He doesn’t pull back until Duck’s hips slow and Joseph is busy wiping his lips.

“I can never resist kissing you while you cum.”

“Fuck I love you.” Duck cups Indrid’s cheek. The silver haired man rubs against his palm a moment, then retreats. Duck growls at Joseph, “as for you, you got ten seconds to open your legs so I can show you a good time.”

“So thoughtful” Indrid pecks his cheek, returns to Barclay, “now, where was I…”

“Shy, AHshit, fuckingchristthat’s good.” Joseph’s legs sprawl open as Duck finger-fucks him, sitting on his side to kiss him without obstructing Barclay’s view.

“Ah yes.” He kisses Barclays neck, hand teasing the head of his cock, “you insisted on bottoming because you were so scared you might hurt me. I can still see it, you on your hands and knees, asking me to take you--those were your exact words--then whimpering when I finally got my cock in.”

“Fuck” Joseph is clearly enjoying the story; if Barclay had known he was into this, he would have made all his exes record voicemails describing their exploits.

“If memory serves I came very fast, because you were so much tighter than I expected and you, you felt so good. I used my hands to get you off-”

“Uh huh, fuck, you hadn’t pulled out yet and it was so fucking good, fuck, Indrid-”

“You made such cute noises when you came” a slow, deep kiss as heat floods him, “I wonder if you’ll do the same now.”

“Probably” is all he grunts out before he’s cumming hard enough that most of it hits Joseph’s stomach rather than Indrid’s fingers. His head lolls as his cock pulses, and beneath his own heartbeat he picks up Duck ordering Joseph to be good and cum for him. After a moment, there’s the distinct moan his boyfriend makes during his climax. It’s followed, confusingly, by weak laughter. His eyes flutter open to see Indrid licking his cum off Joseph’s chest, which happens to be ticklish.

He scoots over to join them, Joseph kissing him sleepily the instant he’s close enough.

“You sure you don’t need to cum, sugar?”

“I’m only half-hard, and I know I’m too tired to make it the rest of the way. Not that this wasn’t supremely satisfying. But you each owe me an orgasm sometime in the future.”

“All in favor of blowin ‘Drids mind tomorrow mornin’”

He and the other two raise their hands in sync. Then the four of them collapse, laughing, in each others arms.

[chandisiacs]

starboy. ☆ part one: i’m a motherfuckin’ starboy 

NOTE: mentions of alcohol, strippers, vulgar language. 

WORD COUNT: 3646

m.list ☆ current part ☆ part two 

         The Neon Lane was crowded with blinding lights when you entered with your two best friends. The music drowned out the screams and stomps of the people who jumped and ground their bodies against each other, the sultry laughs and lewd moans of men and women alike sounded from the booths, and the flexible and flashy strippers posed themselves on the stage, exposing skin, earning money from each dance and each pose that would make a person’s arousal run like adrenaline. To be honest, this wasn’t your typical Friday night; your nights would mostly be chilling by the couch of your shared apartment with Hyunjin, watching multiple seasons of any series on Netflix and crying your eyes out when each series ended. It’s become a routine for you, and it was exactly that reason why your roommate and your best friend brought you to this club--a strip club at that. 

“Guys,” you stopped short at the entrance after the bouncer let you three in, “I don’t think clubbing is such a good idea for me. I feel like my clothes are too tight.” You grabbed at the hem of your burgundy satin wrap dress, pulling it down to where it reaches your knees, and Hyunjin really had the audacity to glance at the cleavage that exposed itself through the low-v neck of your dress. “Too tight, or too low.” He rolled his eyes and hooked his fingers on your straps, tugging the fabric back up to secure your chest. “Besides, Netflix and crying is all you ever do. Loosen up! Have fun. If you need anything, Jisung and I are just around the corner. Isn’t that right, Ji?” 

“You betcha.” Your best friend, Jisung, gave you a supportive wink as he felt his palm through his slicked back blonde hair. Taking a good look at the both of them, you began to realize how good they made themselves look for this occasion. May it be through the countless visits that they’ve gone through in this strip club (Jisung even put in a good word for the bouncer. Just how many times have they been here?), but it was tonight that made them look even more regal, more alluring. Hyunjin had worn your makeup, smokey eyeshadow brushed on the lids of his eyes to accentuate his sharp eyes, highlighter to bring out the shine of his cheeks, and glossed lips that shone underneath the spotlights. You were sure enough that he was getting laid tonight with that hair slicked back and those lips looking like cherries, ready to be bitten and chewed.  

You never knew if you looked good. It is your first time in a wild place such as this, so you wondered if your bronze makeup apparel made you stick out. You got some comfort from Hyunjin earlier, telling you that you were the most stunning roommate he’s ever seen, but you retorted him back with a, “I am your only roommate, dumbass.” At least he made you feel good, though, and it worked. Needless to say, there was no turning back now. 

“Alright, ladies and Hyunjin,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes at Jisung’s comment, “Get loose, have fun, and party the night away. Which lucky baby is having me tonight?” He strolled around the place, checking out women and men alike, until his eye caught a man adorned in a loose silk red button-down with a matching choker and glimmering earrings passing by him with a whiff of perfume overcoming Jisung’s nostrils. Surely, Jisung never forgot the golden tear that was painted on his cheek, and turned back, calling his attention, “Guess I’ve found mine faster than I thought.” 

You stared in worry as the man with the golden tear stopped on his tracks and faced Jisung, and you didn’t fail to notice the way Jisung’s breath hitched at the way the man looked him up and down, his cat-like eyes boring into his before his lips stretched into a smirk, nudging Jisung over to the booth. Pleased, Jisung looked at the both of you, and patted you on the back. “Catch you tomorrow, [First Name]. I feel like I’ll end up on his bed tonight.” 

“And you’ll be catching a woman in mine.” Hyunjin whistled at one of the party girls, eyefucking her by the back of her backless cocktail dress. Your eyes widened at what your roommate had just said, and grabbed him by the arm as soon as you found him straying further than you.“What? We sleep in the same room!” 

“I know that.” Hyunjin replied, his eyes still transfixed on the woman. “Do me favor, [First Name], and get laid.”

“Excuse me?! I didn’t sign up for this!” You exclaimed, grasping Hyunjin’s chin to veer his attention to yours. “You were the one who brought me here. You said you’d be by my side! What the hell ever happened to, ‘If you ever need us, Jisung and I are just around the corner’?” 

Hyunjin fell into a deep sigh and took your hand off his chin, staring at you intently. “Yeah, just around the corner fucking people. Besides, you were also the one who said that you needed a break from the ending of The Witcher, so Jisung and I brought you here to have a good time. Now,” he patted your cheeks, and flashed you a cheeky smile, “be a good girl for Hyunnie, and loosen the hell up. Drink a couple of tequila, grind on the dance floor, stuff dollars on strippers’ g-strings. Make tonight your night, [First Name].” 

With that, your roommate took off, leaving you completely lost at the end of the staircase. The music began to drown the entire space the moment you were left on your own, and the crowd seemed to double in your vision. Your heart raced as you took baby steps towards the crowd, searching for something to do, something to get your mind off this shriveling anxiety building up at the pit of your stomach. This club really wasn’t your style. You wished that you had never agreed to this, and continued ranting to your friends about how that ending of The Witcher blew your mind away. You wished that Hyunjin and Jisung had never brought you to this skanky and loud place, and brought you to some 24-hour fast food chain instead. Forgive them for being single and horny, but that was their fault, not yours. 

You were just steps away from the entrance and staggering into the bar when a hand suddenly slid to grasp your waist. Panic swelled up on your chest as your lungs constricted with alcohol-laden oxygen from the slurred man hanging himself over to your side, cheeks flushed and breath hot with beer. “Hey, beautiful.” He hummed, leaning closer to you. “I seem to have lost my tongue. Can I have yours in my mouth instead?” 

Your nose scrunched up at the overpowering smell of beer coming out of his own mouth, and your heart thumped harder on your chest the moment you felt his terribly hot breath fanning your neck. You wanted to scream, scream out for anybody just to get this man off you. His grasp on your waist was strong, and if you even tried to make a move, he might have his hands elsewhere on your body that you really didn’t want to feel. You stumbled on your own words, and settled for a shy grin instead whilst trying to pry his fingers off you. “I’m sorry, sir, you must have the wrong girl.” 

The drunken man took you up in down before cackling at your face. “Please, I think I’ve got the right one. Why don’t we move this little conversation over to the booth.” Then, he lowered his eyes to your chest, before looking up at you with lust-filled eyes. “I’d love to know what’s underneath this dress, baby.” 

Before you could deny his perverted claims, the lights suddenly shun on your peripheral, catching your attention from the drunk man to the stage. Your eyes widened in curiosity as a man suddenly appeared in front of the stage, suddenly drawing every woman’s attention to him in a crazed manner. They all crowded towards him, reaching out towards him with bucks flailing on their hands even though the man hasn’t performed yet. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the host announced, loud and clear on your ears, “the man of the hour, Starboy!” 

The lights dimmed, and the lights turned red and white upon the spotlight shining across the man’s face. He was posed on the center of the stage, eyes closed and one knee propped up as part of his starting pose. He looked absolutely alluring in that loose, black and gold-striped button-down and black leather pants, and his hair was curled to the side, sweeping all the way so that his forehead was showing. He was flushed with makeup from the lushed, peach lips to the familiar golden tear on his cheek, and the wind that blew behind him made him stand out more, made him look ten times more captivating to you. 

Then, he opened his eyes, and before you knew it, your hands were off the last man who hit on you, and your body found its way to the tethering crowd, all thirsting and growling for more of his performance. You never minded the bumps on your shoulder or the push and shove of your body from the countless screams and jumps, but as you found yourself to the center of the crowd, your vision hyper-focused on the man named ‘Starboy’ and him only. 

His performance was every bit ethereal as it could get; a perfect outline of his abs flashed like pale porcelain on the spotlight, the curve of his hips as he ground down to the sensual, slow beat of the music, the tease of his fingers on the buttons, loosening each button until his top was discarded on the floor. You found women screaming even louder and stuffing dollars into his leather pants, while Starboy flashed them charming grins with dimples that could kill. You realized that you were standing at the front of the stage when you found him standing in front of you, panting, topless, and irresistible. “Well?” He husked, grin smug. “Is that dollar for show, honey, or are you going to give it to me?” 

You never got what he was referring to until you found yourself holding a dollar on your very hands. You must’ve unconsciously got it out of your purse as you were watching him, and at that thought, your mind went on a momentary overdrive before hesitantly stuffing the dollar on the side of his hip. You released a breath you never knew you held when Starboy sent you his thanks, and occupied himself with the rest of the crowd, and it was as of this night that you couldn’t forget what you had just done. Could you believe that once upon a time in your life, as you watched those strip club scenes, you told yourself that you’d never do such a thing like that? Yet, here you were, sending off money to the man who made you feel terrible, but surprisingly aroused. His performance was surely one of a kind, and it didn’t help one bit that after the performance, as you sat on that bar, drowning yourself with vodka, that his husky, panting voice echoed on your ear, haunting you for good. 

It was nearing 11 in the evening that night when you downed your fourth vodka-infused cooler, and that’s when the alcohol started hitting you in the head, making you a little dizzy. You tried your very best to forget what you did back there, but Starboy’s very own appearance just stuck to you like a vivid memory that could never be forgotten. Thankfully enough, you were in a foul enough mood to have any other guy piss off, and you were glad that none of them were trying anything on you, not until a man suddenly came up to the bar beside you, and heeded the bartender. “Aye Lixie, some Smirnoff for me and a water for the lady over here, thanks.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed at the familiarity of his voice, but your irritability got to the best of you as you snapped at the man. “I didn’t ask for water, dumbass, knock it off.” The moment you turned to give him a piece of his mind, your words ran dry on your throat when you saw the man at the center of your thoughts in full flesh, looking back at you with that same smug look he gave you earlier. He was back to his black and gold striped button-down, but the golden tear was still painted on his right cheek, glimmering against the neon lights flashing against his face. Your eyes immediately widened at what you had just told him, and turned your gaze to your half-finished cooler, suddenly embarrassed. “Oh...I’m sorry I said that…” 

“It’s no problem.” Starboy chuckled, and thanked the bartender for giving him his Smirnoff. You thanked him too for giving you some water, but you still drew your finger on the rim of your cooler, embarrassed enough to even look up at him. “So, I take it that you’re a newbie here. You came alone?” 

You shook your head at that, and forced yourself to look up at him. “My friend and my roommate brought me here. My roommate’s over there, eating that girl’s face,” you gestured him towards the booth where you both found Hyunjin clashing tongues with the women he hit on earlier, “and my friend’s probably somewhere else with some dude with the red silk top.” 

Starboy’s head perked up at that, and smiled gently. “Ah, you must be talking about Jewel then.” He chuckled when you raised a brow at him, as if wondering how he knew the man you were referring to. “He’s one of my best friends. We only had each other here when this club first started, well, him and Felix over there.” He nudged his head to the bartender, Felix, who was busy shaking up a margarita. “His name isn’t actually Jewel.” Starboy carried on once he knew you were listening. “His name’s Minho.” He took an ample sip from his Smirnoff, and looked at you, smiling oddly tender. “It’s thanks to them that I finally have a job here. If it weren’t for them, I…” 

You looked up from your cooler, and found Starboy stirring at his own bottle, as if deep in thought. You wanted to pry further on how he managed to land a job at a place like this, but instead, you focused your eyes onto the golden tear on his cheek. “What’s that mean? The tear on your cheek.” 

Starboy was confused for a moment before he brought his fingertips to the base of his cheek, patting the glittered gold spread on it. “Ah, this? This is the mark of a stripper. All strippers who work here need to have this mark. It’s to distinguish between the strippers and performers. Performers have blue tears and only get to be on stage. Strippers have golden ones and have the whole booth to themselves.” 

“Then,” you prompted, eyes still fixed on the golden tear on his cheek, pondering on his performance earlier, “why do you wear it as gold?” 

The smile that spread on Starboy’s lips was enough to have women on their knees before him, enough to have you on your knees as well. However, as he leaned closer just enough for you to hear him through the droning crowd, you found yourself staying in place this time prior to when you first had to pull back from a man. “I’m a special case, darling.” That was all he said, and gave you a flirtatious wink before setting off, leaving you alone on the bar, processing what he just said. 

“Wait!” You shouted afterwards, and Starboy stopped on his tracks before turning back to you. “I didn’t get your name, Starboy.” 

If a smile could light up an entire room like starlight, then Starboy’s smile would’ve lit the entire club by the flash of his own. He was taking small steps towards you, as if pondering whether or not he should give his actual name to a complete stranger. You understood if he didn’t. After all, you both barely knew each other, and who’s to say that the both of you would meet again? It was most unlikely for you, considering that you vowed to never enter a strip club again even if Jisung or Hyunjin told you to. However, his eyes widened as he looked above your shoulder, and you could see impending fear building up on his eyes as he suddenly stepped backwards, ready to flee. “What’s wrong?” You asked him worriedly. 

“Fuck. Jisung.” Starboy muttered under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear. You turned around to see who he was referring to, until shockingly enough, you found your best friend walking towards the bar with the most lovestruck expression on his face, probably reaching out to you. “Why is he here? He’s not supposed to be--” You whipped your head back to Starboy, but he was nowhere to be found. You were left with utter confusion and slight disappointment. How did Starboy know Jisung? Were they related? Did Jisung set some history between him and Starboy to make him disappear like that? You glanced over to the discarded Smirnoff resting atop the polished black tiles, leaving wet circles on the concrete from the water that dripped down from the half-full bottle, and sighed upon your own, wondering where he had gone off to. 

“[FIRST NAME]!” Jisung’s obnoxiously loud and cheery voice almost destroyed your eardrums as usual, only this time it was worse because you were in a club. He slung his arm over your shoulder and giggled onto your shoulder, acting like a complete drunk fool in love. “God, I just had the most AMAZING striptease ever!” He squeaked the word “amazing” in your ear, and you flinched upon the frequency it brought upon your beloved eardrums. “Man, that Jewel guy is flexible as hell! His upper body’s alright, it’s lean and good enough for me, but Lord help me, the thighs, [First Name]! He was grinding on my fucking cock and I could’ve sworn his thighs felt like Heaven. Oh,” he sobbed onto you, clinging on you for dear life, “I wanna fuck him, [First Name]! Please!” 

“I’m not some damn whorehouse owner, and Jewel isn’t a prostitute!” You slapped his hands off your waist, bothered by the heat he was radiating off to you. “What the hell happened to him anyway? I thought you said that you’d end up in his bed tonight?” 

“Oh, I will.” Jisung wriggled his eyebrows at you and slammed a piece of paper with his number on it. “Not only that, I got his number. You know what this means, right? You know what this fucking means?!” He slapped the piece of paper onto your chest, and you sighed exasperatedly at him, snatching his wrist to stop. “Your commitment level has risen up to Level 2?” 

Jisung batted his eyelashes at this before scoffing and whacking you on the forehead. “No, dumbass, he’s gonna want to see me more! No stripper has ever given me their number before, not until Jewel!” He looked over to where Jewel sat, giving his next customer his undivided attention as his customer talked about money and most probably wages. He looked exceptionally bored as he watched him speak, but when he spared Jisung a glance, the stripper twinkled him with a wink and a smirk before going back to his customer, leaving Jisung to fawn and lean himself closer to you. “Aw, I think I’ve hit the jackpot! Don’t you think, [First Name]--[First Name], where are you going?!” 

“Out.” You responded back, your throat hoarse from impending disappointment and the after effects of the alcohol scorching at the sides. It was a complete understatement for you to feel at least slightly outraged; the man who had literally saved your life with his captivating performance revealed himself to you, but your best friend just had to swoop in and fend him off. Your thoughts clouded with that last bit, that split second when Starboy uttered Jisung’s name and disappeared into the crowd and out of your life. The frightened look he gave when Jisung approached you was clearly something out of the ordinary, and it left you to wonder how the two knew each other. However, those thoughts were quickly diminished by the want to leave the club this very instant, and snatched your wrist away from Jisung’s grasp on it. “I can’t stay here any longer. I’m sorry, Ji.” 

Without giving him any space to respond, you quickly made your way out of the dancefloor and up the stairs towards the entrance. You dimly dismissed Jisung’s “See you at your birthday party!” as you skimmed through the crowd, and finally made your way out of the club, wanting no more than to finally settle in the comfort of your own apartment with a certain man running at the center of your thoughts. 

You didn’t even notice the man himself watching you exit the strip club, and neither did you need to know that you have been in the center of his own thoughts the moment he captivated you in the middle of his performance. Without a word, he flickered his gaze from the staircase back to the dancefloor and decided to heed for an early leave, his excuse being that he was merely exhausted when the truth was that he couldn’t focus on anything else but you on his mind. 

[arrow-guy]

Broken Flock (7/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Again, this chapter is dealing with really heavy themes that could potentially trigger some readers. Please read at your own discretion.

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Warnings: Kidnapping, panic attack, mentions of sedation, needles

Part 6

Clint and Bucky don’t get home till nearly four in the morning. They stumble up the stairs, exhausted and on the verge of collapsing. They’re determined to make it up to (Y/N)’s apartment before they fall asleep.

They bundle into the apartment and are surprised to find only the stove light on. (Y/N) usually leaves, at least, a couple of lamps left on in the living room and a lamp on in the bedroom. Bucky looks up at Clint, concern evident on his face and Clint squeezes his arm in an attempt to reassure him. Clint moves further into the apartment to check the bedroom, while Bucky investigates the kitchen.

It only takes Clint a moment to flick on the bedroom light before he calls out to Bucky and joins him in the kitchen. He stops short when he sees Bucky hunch in on himself and cover his mouth with his hand.

"What is it?" Clint asks.

Bucky holds up a slip of paper. "Something's wrong."

"What?" Clint turns on the rest of the kitchen lights and takes the paper from him. "She left a note?"

Bucky nods silently and Clint gently pulls him to his chest with one arm. He runs his hand up and down Bucky's back, hoping to keep him calm, while he reads the note.

Hey guys!

I don't know if you'll be back before me, but in case you are, I'm heading out to stretch my wings. After last week I think I need a little break, haha. It's 8:45 right now, but I'll stop by Clint's place to feed Lucky before I head out for the day. I'll have my phone with me if you need to get in contact.

See you when you get home!

(Y/N)

P.S.: I'm not running away again. I promise.

The note falls from Clint's hand and he wraps his arms fully around Bucky. It slowly sinks in that (Y/N)'s been gone for well over twelve hours and Clint begins to panic.

"Maybe she decided to camp out for the night," Clint offers. "She hates being cooped up for too long."

"No, she would've texted or called or something." Bucky takes a deep, shaking breath. "Something's wrong, and you don’t want to admit it."

“Of course I don’t wanna admit it, Buck. She’s-” Tears form in his eyes and he wraps Bucky tighter in his arms. “She’s our girl.”

“We gotta get her back.”

“We will.”

Bucky shakes his head and pulls away. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose her.”

Clint wipes away Bucky’s tears and then his own. “I know. And we’ll find her. I’m gonna call Steve and Nat and Sam. We’re gonna get every single pair of eyes we can on this.”

Bucky covers his face with his hands and Clint tucks him under his chin. They stand silently in the kitchen until they’re able to speak again. Bucky takes a seat on the couch and texts Steve while Clint immediately calls Natasha. He can hear Bucky sniffle and has to force himself to stay where he is.

Natasha is not in a good mood when she picks up.

“It’s four in the morning.”

“I don’t give a shit, (Y/N)’s gone.”

“What do you mean she’s ‘gone’?”

“Bucky ‘n I just got home and she wasn’t here.”

“She probably ran off again. I know you don’t want to hear this, but she’s done it once, she’d probably do it again.”

“The fuck she would, she’s settled here, Nat. She wouldn’t just leave without telling us.”

“You don’t know that.”

Clint’s tempted to break something. “Nat, I’m telling you, she wouldn’t fucking do that. She wouldn’t do that to us. Not again.” His breath catches in his throat and he does his best to hold back his tears. “Please, Nat. We need your help.”

Natasha sighs. “Fine, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Clint sighs, relieved. “Thank you. Would you bring Steve with you? Buck’s getting in contact with him, but we need his help on this.”

“I’ll let him know.” She pauses. “Anyone else you want on this?”

“Sam,” Clint says. “He’s good at this kind of stuff. And I’m gonna call Tony and see if he can help at all. I don’t want him physically looking for her though. We’re already impatient enough as is without adding his stress to the mix.”

“Okay. See you soon.” She hangs up before Clint can say goodbye.

Clint sits on the coffee table in front of Bucky and takes hold of his shaking hands. “Nat’s on her way over with Steve and Sam.”

Bucky nods, but it’s clear that he’s still trying to process what’s happening. “Okay.”

“I’m gonna see if I can get Tony to help us track her phone.”

“Okay.”

“We’re gonna find her, Buck,” Clint murmurs. He kisses Bucky’s knuckles. “I promise.”

“You’re sure she didn’t just leave again?” Natasha asks.

“I’ve already fuckin’ told you, she didn’t just leave,” Clint growls.

“She left a note,” Bucky says. His voice is rough and makes Natasha do a double-take. When she sees his red-rimmed eyes, she realizes how serious this is.

“Can I read it?”

Bucky nods and points to the kitchen counter. Steve picks up the slip of paper and scans over it before handing it to Natasha. Her frown grows deeper the further she reads into the note. She opens her mouth to speak and Clint holds up one hand to stop her.

“We know she’s missing. Her laptop is still here and so is the rest of her stuff.” He wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and sighs. “Like I said. She wouldn’t do this to us.”

“No, Clint I get that. Do you know where she would’ve gone?”

“North,” Bucky croaks out. “We were up there a couple weeks ago. She likes flying up there.”

“Did Stark manage to find her phone?” Steve asks.

Clint shrugs and checks his phone. “I think he’s still working on it. I’ll call him again-”

“No,” Steve says. “It’s alright, I’ll do it.”

Clint absentmindedly rubs circles against Bucky’s shoulder, trying to calm himself more than Bucky at this point. For all of his optimism, Clint knows how much he’s lost throughout his life. He’s lost his brother to the Swordsman, his childhood to abuse and the circus, his mother to his father… Hell, even his shitbrick of a father dying was a loss. But losing (Y/N) a second time overshadows all of that. There’s no time to mourn or process, just an overwhelming need to go, find, rescue. The urge to protect Bucky is there, too, but he knows that Bucky would never fall into his arms like a damsel in distress, even if there’s a tiny part of him that wishes he would. Wishes Bucky would let him take care of him. But he knows that taking care of Bucky means finding (Y/N) first.

Steve interrupts his thoughts, letting them know that Stark’s found the location, and Clint coaxes Bucky to his feet. He grabs his spare bow and quiver from his apartment before they leave the building.

Dawn breaks and brings even more anxiety with it.

They find her phone in the middle of the field Bucky had taken her to not even a month ago. Bucky's heart drops to his feet and he would walk away from all of this if it weren't for Clint's hand on his shoulder.

Bucky crouches down and picks up the phone. The screen is freshly cracked and the battery is nearly dead. He pockets the device and scans the surrounding area for any other sign of human life. He's about to say something when he notices that the top of a nearby tree has been snapped off. He reaches out to Clint and takes off as soon as he's got a hold of his hand.

"What is it?" Clint asks breathlessly.

"Something."

Clint knows better than to try and get anything more out of him when he's like this.

Bucky drags Clint to a clearing littered with crushed leaves, broken branches, and feathers that are too big to have come from any kind of bird. Both men freeze at the sight in front of them and Clint feels nauseous when he notices the dark, tar-like substance stuck to the majority of the feathers.

"I-I saw the broken off trees and I…" Bucky trails off and drops to his knees. "Oh, God."

Clint glances up from the carnage to see Sam hovering in front of a particular tree. He grabs something before he drops to the grass and walks over to Steve. Clint sees him say something about a bag and "Caught on a branch." His stomach clenches and he manages to force himself to walk over and investigate.

Sam turns as Clint approaches and holds out a tattered pack.

“I’m sorry, man,” he says. “This is all I could find.”

Clint reaches out with shaking hands and takes the bag. His breathing stutters. “Shit.”

“Is it hers?”

Clint nods. “Yeah. It’s hers.” He looks around the clearing. “The feathers are hers too, and they’re every-fucking-where.”

Clint watches Natasha prod at a clump of feathers. She frowns when she touches the tar-like goop and a string of it pulls away with her fingers. She scowls and walks away, making a note on her phone. Bucky’s wandered over to the one clear space in the middle of the grass and Clint joins him. He takes Bucky’s hand in his and hopes it’s at least a little comforting.

“She fell here,” Bucky murmurs, tracing a vague indentation in the grass. “And then it's like she just disappeared.”

Clint shakes his head. “She didn’t disappear, Buck. She was here. We’ll find her.”

He kisses the side of Bucky’s head and wraps him in a tight hug. Bucky hesitates, but slowly wraps his arms around Clint’s middle and presses his nose to his chest. Clint notices Natasha speaking with Steve and his brows pull together when she glances back at him before talking to Steve again. He sees her say “shot down” and “kidnapped” and the hopelessness starts to settle in again.

There’s something wrong with my left wrist. Probably a sprain. Both of my wings are sore from tip to shoulder, but I think I twisted my right wing on the way down to the ground. My ribs are probably fractured after snapping so many branches, and it’s hard to breathe. Secondary to all of that, every inch of exposed skin stings with little tiny scrapes and cuts.

I have to take my time in sitting up and wince when my wings stretch a little too far. There’s something that’s stopping my feathers from fanning out to the point that any kind of movement slowly becomes painful. I slowly extend my left wing, hoping to investigate whatever's stuck to my feathers and stare in confusion at the mess of black goo covering the majority of my secondaries. Cautiously, I reach out and try to remove some of it, and I only succeed in pulling a feather loose. I swear and flick the goo that came away on my fingers to the floor.

I sigh and try to fold my legs underneath myself, but my motions are inhibited by a pair of shackles around my ankles. A long length of chain tethers the shackles to the floor. With that, in combination with the crippling soreness that's starting to settle deep into my bones, I realize that I'm not getting out of here any time soon. Wherever here is.

I shuffle back until my back hits the wall and my eyes slowly begin to adjust to the low light in the room. It looks like I’m being held in a small barn. Little slivers of light creep through cracks in the walls and fall across my hands, revealing every little cut and scrape. I sigh and angle myself so that I can reach the goop on my left wing. I lick the pads of my fingers and try to work some of the stuff from my feathers. It’s slow going, but I manage to avoid pulling out any more feathers.

Eventually, I can’t keep up with cleaning myself, and exhaustion settles in every inch of my body. I curl into myself and doze off.

“An excellent specimen, Doctor.”

I don’t recognize this voice. The sounds of conversation slowly creep in at the edges of my consciousness. I keep my head down and just listen.

“As it should be, I made the serum!”

“When was she made?”

“I can’t be sure. It was not a procedure that I performed. I believe she was an accident.”

“Ah, well, you know what Bob Ross says.”

The second voice laughs. “I think you’re onto something, there, my friend.”

It takes a moment for it to register that these people are the reason I have my wings. And they’re just talking about me like I’m some kind of animal. An experiment.

One of them begins to pace in front of me. “It appears that she’s been sleeping for nearly twelve hours. Should we be concerned?”

“No, the serum imparts a sort of healing factor. The fastest way for her to heal is to sleep.” The shift and their shoes scrape along the concrete floor. “That being said, I don’t know the extend of her injuries. And her breathing has changed since we started speaking.”

The one pacing stops mid-stride. “She’s listening.”

“Precisely.”

Their footsteps approach and I panic. Fingers sink into my hair and wrench my hair back. I’m forced to look up at the woman who had previously been referred to as the Doctor. Out of the corner of my eye, I can just barely see the wiry young man that holds my head back.

“What should we do with her?” the young man asks. “Do you think she’s ready for tests.”

“Please,” my voice comes out scratchy. “Please, don’t.”

“I’m not sure,” the woman says. She begins to pace. “On the one hand, I’ve been waiting for weeks to capture her. Her strength and speed are unlike any of our previous subjects. I’m curious to see what makes her different from the others.”

“But?”

“But she’s been very clearly hurt.”

The man’s hold on my hair tightens and I whimper. He just tugs harder and I force my hands to stay where they are in my lap.

“We’ve been very careful in the past,” he says slowly. “We’ll sedate her. Keep her limbs still. She won’t feel a thing.”

“That is true…” I catch the wicked glint on her eyes and my stomach churns.

The young man laughs in my ear. “Excellent.”

“We’ll have to trim the tar from her feathers.” The doctor shakes her head. “Shame. They’re so beautiful.”

“Don’t touch my wings,” I plead. “Please.”

They just carry on as if I’ve said nothing. I watch the man grin, his eyes crazed. The doctor gestures towards the door and several large figures bundle into the barn. They all stalk over, arms outstretched and ready to grab me. I try to shrink away, but the man holding my head is stronger than he looks, and I can’t move an inch.

Hands latch onto my wrists, ankles, and wings, and I cry out in pain. I go limp in an attempt to make myself too heavy to carry, but they just twist my wings back to fold them. I bite down on my tongue to keep every whimper, groan, and sob from surfacing. My wrist and right wing scream out white-hot pain and, each time they jostle me around, a new jolt of pain lances through my body.

The three men dump me face down onto a metal table and roughly strap my arms and legs down. I beg them to leave me. To let me go. To just let me go. Nothing I say seems to reach their ears and tears streak down my cheeks by the time they wench my wings down to the table. Two large clamps descend from the ceiling and pin my wings to the table. I’m stuck and in pain.

The doctor appears at the edge of the room and she slowly approaches me. She seemed hesitant earlier. Maybe there’s some way I can reason with her?

“Please, don’t do this,” I plead. “You don’t have to do this. Please.”

She grabs my face and turns it from side to side. I whimper and pull against my restraints when she twists my head a little too sharply.

“You don’t understand,” she says. She presses my cheek to the table and my entire body seizes up as I feel someone slowly inserting a needle into my neck. “I want to.”

Her manic grin is the last thing I see as the world goes black. The hum of electricity fills my ears and my body goes completely limp.

-------

Part 8

So that was a ROUGH chapter, but I promise that there will be a happy ending I just need you guys to trust me on this.

If you’d like to yell at me, absolutely comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask.

If you would like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

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This fic:

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[metalotaku-da]

MerMay SHANCE

Prompts stolen from @justshance. all pieces are up for grabs if anyone wants to take them further or rework them. @shancemermay

18. Celestial seas

The quantum abyss was as beautiful and daunting as they had theorized back on altea and then some. His expedition with the holt family and the koganes, as their pilot had been a once in a lifetime opportunity for shiro. One he did not regret taking despite the fact that when they returned altea will have passed just a single deca theeb and themselves 10. A decision he regretted even less with an unexpected discovery by their crew. One that both Matt, Keith, and pidge took great joy in teasing shiro about as he prepared for another space walk. Their ship following the course the space whale migration was following. Having joined them was a newly discovered sentient race of the only word they had to describe them was space mers. Similar yet not to the mer race found on water planet deep beneath the icy surface. But this race came in a multitude of blue, black, purple and red hues, and combinations there if, and some with white spots or patches even. Large wide side fins that worked like solar sails, providing heat and energy on top of movement for them in deep space. They claimed small particles of elements they came across but the solar energy Being their main source of energy. Shiro was jealous of the ability to just glide through space uninhibited by things like oxygen needs or radiation poisoning, or the vacuum of space. Unlike him as he double checked his jet pack and magnetic boots for charge and his suit for any holes since his last space walk. Finding all to be in order. Shiro made his way to the airlock. Where the happy face of one of the space mers named Lance was smiling and clinging to door. Waiting on shiro to hurry up and join him but also to get a taste of the gasses theat would jettison from the lock with him. The radio in his helmet crackled to life with Lance's voice carrying through perfectly.

“Hurry up shiro. Your taking to long. Come out come out and play with me.” Lance pouted face pressed tight to the window contorting his pout.

Shiro chuckled moving into the lock and waiting on the timer to open the outer door. “I'm sorry not all of us can survive in the vacuum of space. We alteans need a little prep time to leave the ship.”

“Pidge and Matt don't take as long as you and the angry cosmic wolf boy do.” Lance continued to pout.

Shiro frowned at that the click of out door opening and pulling him into space the air releasing clearing Lance away from the door his fins wide open to collect the gasses, before the dispersed to much. “Yes because they are horrible at following protocol. And don't check their gear over. Which was a movement ago you were carrying pidge back to the ship.”

“We just lost track of time.” Lance said not making eye contact and examining his fingers.

“Nice try. I watched the feed so did Colleen. She didn't check her battery before she left. She's lucky I refill all air supplies every night cycle.” shiro corrected his jet pack bringing him into Lance's orbit. “Don't start lying for her too. Colleen will pull your ear frills too.”

“I didn't know it was a lie when she told me.” Lance countered grabbing shiro by the hand. “and enough about the debris mite. I got plans for us. And you have caused enough of a delay.” Lance's pulled shiro close with them chest to chest bringing a blush to his ears and his purple markings to glow. “Hold on tight we are going my speed.” Shiro did just that. Wrapping his arms around Lance's to avoid his thin membranes under his arms. Lance spread all of his fins wide and they took off away from the alteans ship and further across the quantum abyss. Passing asteroids, gas clouds and strange light anomalies they hadn't fully assessed yet. A time vision affecting them along the way. One where shiro saw himself and Matt through the academy of the sciences and exploration, as young cadets running through the halls after pranking a teacher.

Lance smiled at him all teeth, eyes and edges crinkled in mischief. Not always a rule stickler huh?” He teased.

“I'm a stickler when it's a life or death risk.” Shiro said in a tone that meant business. “However I'm not above bending the rules if there is no harm.”

“Good.” Lance said with a nod. “Cause I'm taking you somewhere you're probably not supposed to go. But it's safe if you are with me. Pidge said none of you've seen a cosmic wolf leave their nest to strike out on their own.”

“No we haven't. They are furious beast who are very territorial, and their teleportation abilities make them even more dangerous and unpredictable.” Shiro said matter of factly his voice pitched slightly in concern.

“If you don't know them, than yeah. But it's ok cause I know these two. They are nice and won't bite. Promise.” Lance said smiling. “And we are here. Don't look red in the eye. And don't touch blue.”

“What!?” Shiro said sharply in panic as Lance set him down on an asteroid that was at his back so he couldn't see what was behind him.

“Hi red, hi blue. How's my favorite fluffier wuffiers doing?” Lance sing songed gliding past shiro.  Shiro stiff as he passed. Taking a few deep breaths before turning to observe the mess he had been literally dragged too.

Shiro was shocked to find pressed tightly between two of the giant creatures. Both with their heads bent to be petted. “This is shiro. He's the altean I was telling you about.” Lance said as if he was talking to any sentient being. But their limited research being inconclusive of their level of understanding and sentientas. “Shiro this is red and blue.” And sure enough once of the creatures had a red tint to his dark fur and bioluminescent. The other blue hued. “Their pups are getting the push today.”

“Right.” Shiro said carefully lift a hand to wave making sure to not look the alpha male red in the eye. “Pleasure to meet you.” Blue disappeared in a flash and appeared directly in front of him. Shiro stood frozen holding his breath. Blue took a few sniffs before chuffing and pressing her head to his rubbing it against the helmet. Shiro's eyes wide in fear as he heard red growl loudly behind blue.

“He's not touching her. She touched him red.” Lance scolded. Blue licked his helmet for good measure before turning on her mate and nipping at his ear with her own growl. Red chuffed in response but turned away from shiro heading into a cave on the asteroid.

“Awe they like you too shiro.” Lance said cheerily pulling shiro along by his hand to follow after the pair.

“Blue might but I don't think red does. Maybe I should leave.” Shiro whispered back.

“Naw. If red didn't like you, he'd have ate your head off. He's just Moody and aloof, like Keith. All prickly on the outside, but you know deep down he's got a squishy heart full of affection.” Lance consoled.

Shiro laughed. “I didn't know you thought that about Keith. I actually thought you two hated each other.”

“Naw I don't hate Keith. He's just really easy to fire up. It's fun to tease him. He has two moods, angry or indifferent. So like to make him angry so he'll play with me.” Lance said with a smile. “But don't tell him that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Shiro said back with a smile. Their of group having made it to a bigger chamber of the cave came to a stop. One side had openings like windows at the head height of the wolves. Rolling along the floor was a bunch of adorable fluffy cosmic wolf puppies, just a few Thebes old covered in asteroid soot.

“Oh they are so adorable just before they teleport away from home.” Lance cooed tilting his torso and head down to be closer to the pups a few coming over to him to lick at his face and jump on his fins. “Nooooo, you'll lose your protected layer you rascals.” Lance shooed them off his body. Aren't they adorable?”

“They are.” Shiro answered with a smile. Blue raising her head proudly.

“Over here by the hole. So you can see.” Lance directed shiro to a spot to peer out the hole in the cave a clear view of the space whale migration. Several individuals with in view.

“This is a wonderful view Lance but why are we watching the whales? I thought we were watching the pups teleport.” Shiro asked turning to see red lift a pup and place it in the other opening.

“We are.” Lance said. As a flash of light replaced the pup and Lance pointed out the window. A small flash showing above one of the whales. To close. Shiro thought it's going to be pulled by the whales gravity. He lurched forward as the light became a burning streak as it fell through the whales atmosphere burning from the friction. “Oh my goddess.” Shiro said a hand clamped to his mouth.

“It's ok shiro. The soot in their fur protects them from burning up. It hardens and cracks when they hit the surface. And they pop out with shorter fur and then it grows with them as they hunt eat and grow.” He scrunched up his face in thought for a minute. “Like that egg you showed me.” Lance miminicked and egg opening with his hands. As they get stronger they can teleport farther and whale hop. When they find a mate they'll leave and find an asteroid to make babies.”

“That's really amazing Lance.” Shiro said with a smile. Less panicked when blue picked up a cub to place in view of the whales. Another flash of light and he had to admit the meteorite effect of their migration was beautiful. If he ignored the fact a living thing was inside it. Even if Lance assured him every time he winced that the pup was fine. This went on till the reached the last pup who was noticeably smaller than the others who had made their trip. He was a teal blue color of the altean ships in his bioluminescence. And he was sitting facing his parents licking their faces instead of making his trip. Ignoring their nudges.

“Hey buddy aren't you going to join your siblings.” Shiro cooed once it was obvious the parents were having no luck.

The pup looked at him before hunching down, after a moment it disappeared in a flash. Only to land on shiro's head startling him. He and Lance reached for it before it could fall from its failed perch. Back legs now resting on shiro's shoulder and front paws on his head.

“Well now,” Lance smiled at shiro eyes soft. “I guess he picked a new home. Kind of jealous of the little guy.”

“What?” Shiro asked eyes wide at Lance. He was caught off guard as blue appeared next to him licking the side of his helmet. And shiro would swear she looked smug, before she left the group and headed out of the cave. Red head-butted him next before leaving also.

“Sweet. They approve of you.” Lance cooed again. “Hope the others don't mind. We get to raise our own pupper together!” Lance squealed giving a delighted spin. The initial panic shiro felt at becoming a pet parent to a large and dangerous creature slowly fading way to his own excitement to match Lance's.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Gentle beast, ds dreammare. Please

Fandom: Dreamswap by @onebizarrekai

Set in the same verse as this

Characters and pairing: DS Dream, DS Nightmare, DS Dreammare

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 1,658

Summary: No one has seen Dream in a week. Naturally Nightmare, as his mate, is the one enlisted to find him.

Nightmare has been staying in the headquarters of justice Reigns for a little over six months now. It’s very strange to see what Dream has done to their home timeline in the fifty years he’d been running from the other… At first he was very worried that the other would try to do something awful to him… But, Dream so far has been completely genuine about his desire to apologize for being a giant dick when he’d first consumed almost all of the apples after turning all but one of them positive. The other hadn’t asked where the single negative apple has gone - and hasn’t tried to do anything weird or awful to him…

The negative spirit is cautiously optimistic that Dream really does mean it. That he wants to help those less fortunate in the multiverse and while negativity should be minimized - as people don’t deserve to suffer - complete eradication is pointless and… Dream doesn’t want him dead. He never did, but had lost control of himself and the magic that he’d consumed had taken control of his mind temporarily. He’s been working at the orphanage for the past week - there’ve been quite a few new admits and most of them are from fell or other rough AUs, and he’s been gently pulling some of the aggression and bitterness that the poor kids have been suffering under for most of their lives, while also encouraging them to open up.

It’s a difficult process but… Nightmare finds it to be rewarding. And it’s really adorable how they all light up whenever he plays his violin for them. Some of them even sing alongside and it’s super, super cute. He can see a lot of the good that his other half has done, and hopes that what he’s been doing will help the other. It’ll take a while before he fully trusts Dream again, but… The positive spirit has been proving himself so far.

He’s smiling a little as he makes his way over to the main portion of Justice Reigns - intent on poking Dream out of his office in the tower - guessing that the other had decided that he didn’t need to sleep and work on paperwork and other really boring things (as Dream would have come to tell him he was going to go fight someone if he left their home to go bashing heads) for the week that he’d been working with the new kids.

A Random Minion (who’s name Nightmare cannot for the life of him remember) comes rushing up to him, their aura filled to the brim with worry “Lord Von Licht! I… Please come with me quickly…”

“Huh? No. Lord Von Licht has wings. I’m Nightmare, his spouse.” The negative spirit responded, a small smirk appearing on his face as he followed the other “What is it that you need?”

“I… I… I will answer your questions as soon as we are in a private location, sir.” The Minion answered back, their emotional aura spiking further with fear and anxiety.

Was this where everything went to hell? Should he try to make a break for it, or leave the AU entirely? No… Nightmare guessed that he should at least see what was going on before either running off or smacking Dream’s head on straight. As soon as they came to an empty room the minion actually dragged him into the room, shaking a little. “I… This needs to be kept quiet but… N-No one knows where L-Lord Dream is. No one’s seen him in a week, just after you left for the orphanage sir… I-It’s not common for him to vanish for a couple of days but… It’s been a week and none of us have any idea where he might be.”

“Great. Was he acting weird before he vanished?” Nightmare asked, frowning a little. Dream had seemed perfectly fine as they’d kissed goodbye, but… The other could be a cagey and unpredictable bastard.

“N-Not to anyone’s knowledge, sir… As far as any of us can tell, he’s still in this timeline, we just… We can’t find him. We were hoping since the two of you have… You two are mates, that you might know him well enough to find him?” The Minion explained in a rush “This has been kept quiet - only the highest ranked in Justice Reigns are aware that Lord Dream cannot be found.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to cause a panic. And yeah, I can track his feathery butt when we’re in the same timeline.” Outside of it too, if he really tried. Not that Nightmare was going to tell them that. Best not to spook the mortals after all. “My phone’s fully charged and I’ll call Champion when I find Dream.”

“I-If you would please check in every couple of hours with a text to… T-To make sure that we know that you at least, are able to be contacted, sir?” The Minion suggested timidly.

“Yeah, yeah, I will. Dream’s probably just gone off somewhere to brood. He does that sometimes. Or read. A week’s not a very long time to either one of us, though he’s a lot more responsible than I am in regards to time management than I am. Normally at least.” Nightmare responded, waving a hand dismissively as he turned off his eye lights and reached out with his senses… “Oh… I… I think I know where he is. Uhm. I’ll just - double check to be sure.”  

With that he teleported off, ignoring the frantic shouts from the minion for him to wait, or at least explain where it was he was going. There were only a couple of reasons why Dream would be there of all places, and none of them Nightmare thought were good ones. Certainly none that his other half would want his mortal minions to see him in a… Not so great mental state.

Sure enough, Dream was there. He was sitting in the top of the remains of the tree, his wings curled around him and leaning against the dead, withered trunk of the tree. Nightmare sighed a little before carefully climbing his way up to the other, and calling out “Dream…? Why are you here? How long have you been here?”

The other jerked a little before turning to look at him, his eye lights pale and somewhat fractured. Dream growled low in his throat before tackling him, causing Nightmare to overbalance and the both of them to fall out of the tree “Dream, what the fuck!” He flailed as he tried to grab onto the tree - but they were carried too far for him to save them from a fall.

Dream’s wings flared open and they landed safely on the yellowed grass of the meadow that both of them had long ago called home. The taller skeleton gently nuzzled one side of Nightmare’s neck and purred happily, his wings wrapping around the both of them as the other peppered his neck and face with little kisses, occasionally letting out some rather ridiculously endearing chirping noises.

“I… H-Hey! That tickles! Hahahaha… D-Dream stop that!” Nightmare flailed - the light kisses tickled and the other was acting very strangely. The other’s kisses were much warmer than normal. The negative spirit frowned a little and Checked his other half, sighing a little and frowning. “Okay… How the actual fuck did you get cursed?”

Dream just purred and chirped at him again, nuzzling into him more, unable to respond to anything other than what his basic instincts told him to do… And it was… Kind of endearing to see just how sweet his other half could be.

“I… Okay, I’m just going to teleport the two of us home, and then get you to the healers so they can break the curse… I wonder if you’ll remember anything like this…” Nightmare mused, gently petting the top of the other’s skull, as well as one of the other’s wings a little.

Dream just purred louder, clearly happy to be as close as possible to him. Nightmare snickered a little, unable to stop himself from taking a couple of pictures before calling Champion “Hey - I found Dream…” The other batted lightly at the phone before hugging Nightmare tightly, grumbling wordlessly.

“You did? Is he okay? What’s going on?” The dog monster prompted, concern in every syllable.

“He got cursed somehow.. Mgh! Dream stop it… Mph!” Nightmare tried to explain. Dream had started to kiss him, in an attempt to stop him from talking, as well as trying to grab the phone from him “He’s running on base instinct… Which was to go home and to kiss me apparently. I can try to bring him to the medical wing, but… It’ll probably be easier if you can bring a curse breaker to that giant dead tree in the middle of this timeline. That’s where we are.”

“I… Uhm… Okay. I will be right over with a doctor and a curse breaker immediately. Just try to keep him there, sir.” Champion asked “If you two move, please try to text me?”

“Yeah, I’ll try.. Ahaha! Dream stop tickling me! Oh… I… Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you… Please stop whimpering…” Nightmare murmured in low, soothing tones, wincing a little as the other stared down at him with large golden eye lights, tears gathering in the corners, distressed. He nuzzled into the other’s side, purring a little “See… I’m sorry…” He was glad that he ended the call, as that would be super embarrassing if anyone else heard that for the both of them.  

Dream carried him over to the base of the tree, before sitting down and cuddling him, purring loudly and occasionally giving him kisses. Nightmare leaned into the other’s touch, refusing to be lulled to sleep. Eventually Champion and the medics arrived. Thankfully Dream had fallen asleep before then, and they were able to undo the curse before the CEO did anything embarrassing.

[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.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUAVS prt 29 start. This is all I've got for ya so far. Lemme know how much you hate it

Sitting on the stairs of Hangar bay 5, Keith was staring out at the expanse of space beyond the open door, his face still wet from his tears that no longer fell. Cold numbness was all he felt now. The expression on Lance's face the moment he'd found out Krolia knew spelled it all out for him. They were over. They were over and Lance wouldn't be coming back. The hangar had been the first place he'd looked for Lance after he'd bolted, throwing open the doors to the bathrooms he passed in a desperate hope to catch Lance as soon as possible. When Lance hadn't been in the Hangar, or the Telula, Keith had run to the pool, thinking maybe Lance had gone there to cool down... or worse. They'd finally crossed that line and slept together. Lance giving him every single part of him that he could as he revelled in pleasure. All of this built on the trust Lance held for him... He hadn't meant to keep it a secret. No. He had... He'd meant to tell Lance when Lance was doing better and was stronger. No, that was another lie. He kept it from him out of fear. Then he'd forgot. He and Lance had been working hard to build something real. He'd been swept up in everything and drowning in Lance. The thrill of holding him close. The thrill of being Lance's world. He'd been so fucking proud. So proud of Lance in the conference room. Looking at those photos, remembering every thing that happened. Knowing that everyone would know part of his truth. And now Lance was gone because he'd made a mistake. He'd come so far with Lance... and Lance was... The tears came back, rolling down his face as he let out a hiccuped sob. He'd fucked up. "Keith?" Sitting down beside Keith, Shiro sighed heavily. His brother sitting slightly hunched forward, hands clasped and elbows resting on his knees "I received a notification that the hangar bay door had opened. Can you tell me what happened?" "I fucked up... Shiro... he... I betrayed him" Sitting back up, Shiro pulled him into a tight hug. Keith caving against his brother. He didn't deserve Shiro's kindness... "Is this about what happened in the meeting? The photos?" "No! I kept something from him... he... he said something about the torture on the video. Something really personal and mum... I was shaken over what happened I sent the full video to her by accident... and I didn't tell him. I said I sent her some of it. I lied to him... I lied and mum... she just told him she'd seen the whole thing" "Can you tell me? What it was?" "No... no... it's not my right... Shiro, I... we had sex last night. He's been so scared of being close because of how they tortured him... we barely even kiss because he's so fucking scared... He gave me all his trust... And now he finds out I was lying and hiding things from him. I didn't mean to... I didn't... he was in shock after what we found. His head was all over the place and I didn't... I didn't want him to be alone. I didn't want to be alone... I love him and now he's gone" Sobbing and pleading with Shiro, Keith wasn't making much sense at all. Clutching his brother for dear life, he screamed against him. Lance wasn't coming back... He couldn't breathe. He couldn't... Lance wasn't coming back to him "Keith, you need to calm down for me. You need to breathe... He's probably only taken the Telula out while he calms down" Keith shook his head, practically panting for air "He's not coming back" "Did he say that?" "He... he didn't need to. It was on his face... I know... I know he's not coming back" Keith had wanted to take his own ship out. He wanted to track Lance down, but when he saw the empty hangar, he'd dropped to the ground and couldn't move "You don't know that. He's strong, Keith. That briefing, he was beyond professional. He knew what had to be said and he explained it so we all understood. He didn't shy away from what needed to be said and seen. Seeing him so confident..." "You're not listening to me! He isn't coming back! He wasn't confident. He's not confident. He shut down his feelings. I've seen it. That's how he gets when he's being Leandro. He shuts down his feelings. He treats Lance like he's weak, and in the past... He... it took movements to get through to him... to get him to accept I didn't want to leave him. Last night... I got him into the pool. I got him swimming and smiling... He told me he could do those things because it was with me... They hurt him so badly" Sitting him up straighter, Shiro wiped at his teary face. His adoptive brother's eyes shining with his unshed tears "Ok... ok. You're right, I don't understand. But his team is still here. Do you think he'd actually leave them?" Oh right... He'd forgotten that Lance came with his team "I don't know... I ruined everything" "Lance will understand once he calms down. Krolia wouldn't have said anything to be malicious, and while her timing was not ideal, there are still things we need to discuss" Shoving Shiro off him, Keith's anger flared again. His emotions were too raw for Shiro to be putting anything or anyone before Lance! How he would feel if this was Curtis? "Are you fucking serious?! You don't give two quiznaks about him, do you?! You just want him for what he knows!" "That's not true. You know that's not true. But you also need know we intend to act on what he said... and I'm worried for him after what he presented. I'm worried for his mental state" "That's all you care about... your precious mission... well what about Lance? You know... you know his friends are dead. You know he killed all those people. You know he did it. You know what he's fucking like... he... he's everything Shiro... he's my everything... he's... going to die out there and it's all my fault" As quick as his anger flared, the waves of sheer hopelessness crashed through him. Gasping, he really tried his hardest to breathe, not sure why his lungs had given up on him. Was he dying? He felt like he was dying. Like his heart had finally given out from the pain. Shiro's concerned face swimming out of focus before he slumped sideways, Shiro grabbing him by the arm as he smacked his head and slid down the top few steps. * Bright fluorescent lights blinded Keith as he woke with a throbbing head. Raising a hand, he patted at his forehead, finding a thin gauze of the area most of the pain seemed to be radiating from. Quiznak. Had Lance felt this shitty when they'd woken up "Hey, Kiddo. You back with us?" Pushing himself up, Keith left his fingers against the dressing as he looked to Shiro "What happened?" "You had a panic attack and fainted on me. You hit your head on the stairs down to the hangar" Right... right. Lance was gone. Hopefulness filled his tone as he looked up at Shiro "Have... has he...?" "He sent me a message saying "He'd come back when calmed down. And asked that I please look after his team" Lance had reached out? He was alright? Sliding off the med bed, Keith grabbed Shiro "Did he say anything else? Did you get a trace on his comms? Did he mention me?" "I'm sorry, Keith. That's all it said. His comms are off, and he's scrambled the comes for the Telula" Keith's heart dropped then, slumping before remembering "He's got two comms. One for work..." Shiro shook his head "Daehra already informed us. The signals offline. He messaged her also. Asking her to run his team in his absence" That sounded... He was lying... Lance was lying "He's not coming back..." Trying to be the supportive older brother he was, Shiro asked softly "Maybe he messaged you?" Keith didn't need to check his comms to know Lance wouldn't have. He was the one he was mad at after all "He wouldn't have... Do you have any leads on where he went?" "We lost his signal about half a varga after he left. He was sitting on the other side of the Balmera before the signal cut" "Half a varga? How long was I out?" "About three vargas" Keith's wet eyes widened. Panic attacks always left Lance feeling drained. Is that why he felt so drained? All he wanted to do was climb into bed with Lance for cuddles and reassurance. Three vargas... He didn't feel like he'd been out for three vargas. And what the Quiznak had happened? Had they moved at all? Lance couldn't have gone that far in three vargas... The Telula wasn't that big... "We can still find him" "Keith" "There's the radiation signature from the Telula" "He said he was coming back" "You can't be serious..." "Keith, you need to slow down. You hit your head, and you're going to have another panic attack" "If you're not going to look for him, then I'm going on my own" Sighing deeply, Shiro shook his head, putting his "Space Dad" face on "I can't let you do that. He said he was coming back, and we're going to take his word for it. We've told his family he was called away for an emergency mission by one of his contacts. Zak's working on trying to pick up Daehra's pod rather than the Telula because I do care about his wellbeing. So you can stop giving me that look" "I'm not giving you any look" His retort wasn't convincing at all. If they were seeing if they could pick up traces of Lance, Shiro should have led with that rather than messing with his head. It hurt enough without having to do the think thing. Taking a deep breath, Keith let out it slowly. He could hear Shiro mentally telling him that "patience yields focus". Standing there, they stared off at each other until Keith finally sat back on the edge of the bed, Shiro nodding at him "Now you've calmed down enough to think clearly, do you have a concussion?" "No. I don't think so. I think it's just tender from hitting my head" "That's good. No double vision or nausea" "Not related to hitting my head" "Keith" "No. God. Let me go help look for my Lance" "In a minute. I need you to promise you won't take off looking for him without back up" "Shiro..." "Keith. These people know he's been with you. That makes you a target. If you get captured or killed, then what good are you going to be? He lasted phoebs without you. I know you don't want to hear that, but he's obviously got access to resources out there and knows how to survive. I know how much you want to find, and how scary is it not knowing, but for Lance's sake, don't you think we should be working on apprehending the people out there who want to hurt him?" Crossing his arms, Keith huffed "I fucking hate it when you get smart" Reaching out, Shiro went to ruffle his hair before remembering he'd hit his head and opting to rest his hand on Keith's messy hair "Krolia's in the command room, researching Erathus. I told her I wanted to be here when you woke up. Kosmo's here to help. We found him asleep on the kitchen floor covered in cake. He'd eaten the left over cake from the engagement party, as well as the finger food" "He's a menace. I'm surprised he didn't take off with Lance" "Acxa said he was sleeping on his back in the middle of the mess. She had to give him a bath" Remembering Kosmo with the space chickens, Keith's chest tightened. Moving his hand to his chest, he pressed against it in the hopes of calming himself down. All he wanted was to be with Lance again. Or to know he was safe... both his two top desires were about even in importance "That sounds about right. Ok... I can't guarantee I'll keep my temper. I want to watch the footage of Lance leaving. I want to see if he... I want to see how he was before he left" "I've already watched it. He gets himself lost in the halls before heading to the Telula. He trips on the third last stair and lands on the hangar floor before he opens the doors and leaves" Lance must have been pretty torn up if Shiro wouldn't show him him walking through the Atlas, and what if the fall had hurt Lance? He'd seen the body suit stand up to all sorts of damage, but... He couldn't stand thinking of Lance hurting himself "He's my ex kind-of-boyfriend, Shiro. I ruined everything. I want to at least make sure that he's not hurt physically" "You had a fight. All couples fight. It's not healthy to be in a relationship where you don't. I'm sure he's going to understand once he's calmed down" They were stuck in the same damn circle. Shiro didn't get it. He didn't have enough information to understand. Lance had been raped and less than half a quintant after they'd had, his trust in Keith was destroyed. There was no way Keith could admit this out loud, but it didn't stop the desire to grab Shiro by the shoulders and shake him senseless while yelling in his face why he didn't understand. * Taking it slow, Kosmo kept himself by Keith's side so his fingers would brush against the wolf's ear occasionally as they headed to the command room. Despite Shiro having given the staff a free day, there was a skeleton crew in the room, Keith pointedly ignoring his mother who was standing by Coran as they pulled files up on the display screens. With far too much enthusiasm, Coran brightened right up as he noticed Keith, rocking up onto the balls of his feet "Keith, my boy. How are you feeling? Shiro told us you had a bit of a bump to the old noggin" "It's fine, Coran. Thanks for asking. What are you working on?" Pinching the end of his moustache, Coran looked back to the screen "Well Number Four, Number Three gave us all a lot to think about! Then being called away like that, I can't say I'm not worried! I had no idea he was out there doing such dangerous work. Our dear Allura would be so proud he's continued her legacy of peace. I always knew Lance was destined for great things" Wiping away a tear, Coran looked to the heavens as he thought of Allura. The Atlean wasn't stupid. He was weird, creepy, obscure, but not stupid. So why was it that for someone so smart, he was so goddamn dumb?! This had nothing to do with Allura or her damn legacy. Balling his fists up, he was only just realising how many times he was going to have to swallow the damn truth down and break his own heart further. Setting his jaw, Keith stood beside Shiro. Lance was gone, and in his absence Keith was the only one with any kind of actual relationship with his crew. He'd refer all actual decisions to Daehra and Lucteal, as per Lance's wishes. He knew the pair would have felt everything Lance did. Both of them presumably livid with him over what had transpired. If he had any chance of having them listen, he needed to take control of the situation "What do you have for me? In absence of Lance, I will liaise with his team" Shuffling her weight, Krolia knew better than to turn his way "We have decided that this mission shall be handled by the Blades as secrecy is the number one priority" "You can't send blades. Next idea?" His mother's tone warned him against continuing "Keith" Buuut. Lance had said he was a stubborn hot head "No. Lance warned you. He's known to be collaborating with both the Atlas and Daibazaal. The Blades aren't the top secret organisation they used to be. Any new employees will be treated as suspicious and more than likely would be executed or taken hostage for leverage. Plus, you can't approach the outpost from any other position except head on. Surveillance is tight. Ships are tracked the moment they're through the fields and hailed" "Do you doubt the Blade? After everything you've been through?" Keith grew indignant "I don't doubt the Blades. I'm concerned that we're sending them to their death. If the Atlas was to show up out there suddenly, or an unidentified ship is suddenly spotted acting suspiciously in the area, then they're going to know Lance talked. That puts us all in danger. Every single member on this crew. We don't have Voltron or the lions" "Then what do you propose we do?" "I don't know. We can't take the Telula. And despite what Lance says, I don't think he'll be returning without trying to do something about this issue on his own. I know you all think I'm letting personal feelings could my judgement, but Lance sent away members of his team to gather more intel from various rebel parties. Daehra or Lucteal should have the contact details for them, plus he hadn't finished filling briefing us when he was forced to leave. I know for a fact he knows more, and I know for a fact the Erathian government isn't going to stop hunting him. And we have everyone out there after that 1.5billion GAC bounty after him too. If we don't act sooner rather than later, we're going to find in one of those outpost rooms..." Giving voice to further sudden realisations, Keith felt like his whole body had been plunged into an ice bath. Vomit rising in his throat at the idea of Lance being drugged and hacked to pieces. The thought of those brilliant blue eyes that said so much and looked to him with so much love that it took his breath away, never opening again left his knees like jelly as he tried not to show everyone he was falling apart all over again. Lance should be here. He should be by his side as they planned their next move. Not thousands of miles away like he probably already was because everyone was too stupid to go after him. "Leandro can look after himself" Piping up from where he'd set himself up in a corner of the command room, all eyes went to Zak, Shiro asking, probably only asking the aliens name because he didn't know how to phrase the question of what he meant "Zak?" "Leandro can look after himself" Yes. Thanks, Zak. You already said that. Krolia seemed mildly annoyed as she asked "Is that all?" "Look. You all dumped him off in the middle of nowhere. He can look after himself by now. He isn't about to lose his head because you're all not going looking for him and abandoning him. Keith's right. I hate to admit that out loud, because you're a bit of a dick man, but he pulls the craziest shit man. Since Keith came along he's been acting weird as fuck. His head might not be in the game, but he's not about to let himself be killed" For the first time in his life, Zak had actually said something that he agreed with. Not going after Lance would be tantamount to abandoning him again. Pulling the best puppy dog eyes he could with Shiro, Shiro groaned at him "Alright. Fine. I was trying to respect his wishes. Zak, I expect you to find him. I can't take the Atlas off course, but I can launch once we know where he is. Krolia, I want you to develop two strategies. One for finding what's going on Erathus. A second on the outpost and satellite prison. Coran, I want you to find any information you can on prison moons in the area. Sam, can you please continue your calculations on the time dilation of that quadrant. I need to know just what we can send in, and what they need to be prepared for" Zak already had all those damn calculations. It felt like Shiro had thrown Zak a chew toy so he'd be distracted while the "grownups" played. Zak should be working on those calculations while Sam traced the signal in the data stream from Lance's messages. It also hadn't gone unmissed that Daehra and Lucteal weren't there "Where are the others?" "I think they're in the lounge area with your team. Matt, Hunk and Shay are there too. Pidge is cursing the world from her room" "I'm going to see Daehra and Lucteal. If they know something more, I need to know" "You can't go running off with a head wound" He wasn't going to run. It was going to be more of a brisk walk, or a jog if his head allowed it "I'm not running off" "Good. I'll send someone to collect them. I don't know how long we can keep this under wraps Keith. I feel like we should be telling Ver..." "You can't. Trust me on that. You can't. For his sake you can't" "If we act, everyone will need to know" "Then tell them I brought the mission. Tell them it's for the Blades. It was originally. Tell them Lance is gathering information for now, and keep up the pretence he'll be back. You know Veronica and Acxa are dating. Do you want both of them turning on you?" "Not really. But they'll turn on me if something did happen" "Then..." Then what? He didn't know what came next... Shiro kind enough to let him down easy "Keith. You know this is how it has to be. I can buy you time, but I will need to brief my people. I can't take them into danger without them knowing. We don't have a plan yet. So give me some time to work this out. I'll have Daehra and Lucteal brought up here, but only under the condition that you sit and you rest. We have the top minds of the Atlas working on this. I know you hate sitting still and waiting, but patience yields focus. You might remember something while you're resting" He didn't need to rest, Shiro guiding him over to sit made him feel weak and pathetic in front of everyone. He was already an emotional mess. He didn't need to be made to seem too weak to hold his shit together.

[lolabean1998]

Ali-cat (Part 1)

Sweet pea fanfic 

The school was covered in graffiti, security checks at the door and gangs at every corner. Ali’s new school wasn’t looking very promising, she had just moved to Southside from her previous home in England, her Mum had been offered a job as a Lawyer in Riverdale and had spent all their money moving, so they could only afford a small house on the outskirts of Southside trailer park. Ali was an only child and with her father out of the picture it was just her and her mum. 

It was her first day at Southside high and she was already dreading it, rumours of a fight between the Northsiders and Southsiders had sent her stomach churning. She crept through the scanners avoiding all eye contact, her mousey brown hair tied in a loose scruffy bun and her already pale skin losing what little colour it had with every breath she took. This was the most terrifying school she had ever set eyes on, students taking drugs in broad daylight at school like it was no biggie. The heavily branded gang members grouped together at every turn made her thankful for all the martial arts classes she had taken back in England. Ali shuffled awkwardly towards her locker, her headphones in playing her favourite tunes from the recent chart toppers. ~If I avoid all forms of social interaction I’ll be grand~ she thought as she found her locker and attempted to unlock it but the lock was temperamental, her nerves already shaky she began to panic. Eventually punching her locker with frustration, it popped open pulling all attention to the new girl looking very nervous. ~Great now I look like a new chew toy for these thugs to throw around~ Ali thought as she shoved her unneeded books into her locker.

“Looks like fresh meat, 10 bucks says she doesn't last the day.” A pink haired girl commented from across the hall, a large leather jacket hung on her slim figure, a large double ended snake embossed proudly on the back. Her two accomplices smiling cruelly as they took her up on the bet. The one guy was short compared to the giant stood next to him, his dark eyes and tanned skin making him look very sharp but dangerous. The giant stood next to him was not only considerably taller but his black locks and threatening tattoo on his neck made him extremely intimidating, the dark angry look in his eyes only making things worse. Ali gulped as she watched from the corner of her eye, she had now become the days entertainment, great. She looked down at her timetable, turning up the volume for her headphones to drown out the sound of her future tormentors. English and Maths first, she heaved a sigh of relief as she made her way to her first class, zigging and zagging between her fellow students. 

“You must be the new girl, welcome to hell. Take a seat.” Her English teacher waved to the class before leaning back in their chair and going back to their newspaper.

“Thank you, If you could just give me the work for this week I’ll get on with it quietly on my own.” Ali smiled politely, her strong English countryside accent booming like a beacon as she spoke, she tried to hide it but there was no masking it. Her teacher looked up in surprise at her request but handed her a large textbook before waving her off like some kind of peasant. Ali found an empty seat by the window at the front of the class and decided to claim this as her own little corner, hoping that its ideal location for learning wouldn't cause too much trouble or draw any attention to her. She had just opened her textbook when the classroom door swung open and the three gangsters strode in laughing loudly, all three wearing matching snake branded leather jackets. Ali shuddered as they moved to the table next to her, sitting with there backs to her.

The morning had gone rather successfully, Ali had managed to gather her work for the week and begun working through it quietly on her own, so far only speaking to her teachers.

She wandered tentatively into the cafeteria, looking round at all the fenced off sections, she figured it was an attempt at lowering the potential for fights. Catching a glimpse of the food being served Ali decided against eating, instead she made her way out the cafeteria and towards the direction of the library. The next couple of days Ali managed to stay under the radar, spending her lunchtimes in the library studying and keeping her headphones in at all times. Gym class was easy to graze through, she changed out of her usual jeans and t-shirt into a pair of skimpy shorts and an old polo shirt in the girls changing room, which was empty except from the occasional group of JJ junky girls, and headed towards the small unloved track. After running laps for an hour she would have a quick shower before throwing her clothes back on and heading out. 

It was now over a week in and she had allowed herself to talk to a small group of kids that weren’t part of either of the gangs, instead grouping together for safety in numbers. Ali was sat in the cafeteria talking to her new friends about her obsessive need to constantly have her headphones in, laughing at there jokes about her accent. They began teasing her about how she would dance to herself during lesson whenever a good song came on.

“Yeah but I’ll bet you won’t dance on the table, 10 bucks says you’re too chicken.” One of the girls teased placing her bet on the table. Ali smirked, she wasn’t afraid to express herself, despite how she came across, she took the money before choosing her favourite song ‘Hey Mario’ and climbing onto the table. Singing along as the tunes played in her ears and dancing happily to the words. She was aware of the hundreds of pairs of eyes that had suddenly locked onto her sudden display but she ignored them and continued to dance until the song was over, bowing dramatically before climbing down and settling back in her seat. She glanced around the room and caught the tall dark haired boy she had seen on her first day staring at her, she watched curiously for a second when he caught her glance and locked eyes with her. She felt her stomach tie up in uneasy knots. He had been watching her for days now and had been watching her before her little performance. 

“He’s been checking you out for a while now Ali,” The ginger haired girl that had placed the Bet earlier commented. “He’s the top man for the serpents, scary kid too. Don’t think he knows what fear feels like.” Ali pulled her eyes back to her new friend, breaking eye contact with this dark and mysterious gangster making him smirk. 

“That’s not terrifying at all, every one is afraid of something.” Ali replied, glancing back one last time, there was something about him that Ali couldn’t help but want to know more. 

“Careful Ali, he goes through girls like fat kid does cake!” Her friend warned again, Ali smiled up at her green eyed friend picking up her sketch book.

“Come on Cas, You’re my model for the day and I want to get a good spot before the hooligans join us.” Ali grinned as the pair got to their feet, heading towards their art class.  They were just leaving the cafeteria when a tall, sickly looking boy grabbed Ali by the wrist pulling her to his side, Cas frozen in fear by the door.

“Well, if it isn’t the cute little English newbie, where’s the rush? come sit, join us hear for a bit...” The boy teased with a wicked grin pulling her close to his side. Ali smiled politely, pulling her limbs away from the creepy Ghoulie leaning on the table to face them all.

“With all do respect guys if I do decide to join a gang, it’s not going to be with some one who wears the logo of an angry shoe lace on their backs,” Ali gestured to the serpents still smiling sweetly to the group, “Or circus rejects such as yourselves. But thank you for the invitation it was very sweet.” She straightened up, giving the group an apologetic wave before heading off to save Cas from the panic attack she was about to have.

“Are you insane?” Cas hissed as they entered the art room, “That was the single most badass thing you could’ve done and also the dumbest. Your going to have both gangs on your back now!” Ali shrugged, setting up her canvas and pencils.

“Stop worrying and sit still, this has to be good for my portfolio.” She chirped, Cas sat cross legged on a table in front of her. “I’m sure they’ll get bored eventually, They don’t heckle you guys any more.” 

“Yes they do Ali, that's why we stick together, they only bother us when we’re on our own but they will always be recruiting.” Cas informed her oblivious friend. The door flew open as she finished and the group of Ghoulies Ali had spoken to earlier strolled arrogantly in. 

“You want to paint me next baby?” The creep from earlier sneered, sitting close to Cas and posing dramatically.

“Please let my friend go and leave us be.” Ali asked sweetly, trying to keep her relaxed and polite composure, but the Ghoulie ignored her request wrapping an arm around Cas’s waist. “Listen sweetheart, I really need you to let go of my friend, if you refuse I’ll be forced to cut your arm off with my scalpel and that could get very messy, since, I have no medical expertise.” She gave him a worried look picking up the scalpel from her sketch set.

“You threatening me baby?” He stood leaving Cas and making his way over to Ali, who was still the perfect embodiment of cool and collected. 

“Please don’t call me baby, I have mastered the art of walking and talking and not only can I use my cutlery without the need of assist but I am also very skilled in using chopsticks, all of which a baby would fail to do.” Ali informed him, her English accent growing thick with every word. “Now if you don't mind, I have a portfolio to finish and should you carry on, mugshots to draw up. I don’t think the sheriff is going to be too pleased to hear that his favourite sketch artist is being threatened, so if you please, the door is to your left.” Ali smiled politely, guiding her unwanted friends to the door, the groups faces dropped when she mentioned the Sheriff and left quietly, however Ali feared she had just jabbed the metaphorical Lion.

“Wait you know the Sheriff?” Cas asked scratching her head in confusion.

“Nope, never met him but they don't know that.” Ali laughed getting back to her canvas.

Ali was on her way home when she noticed a job advertisement in the window of a bar named the ‘Whyte Wyrm’, she knew they could use the extra cash so decided to go in and apply. She pushed open the heavy door and was greeted by a bar full of snake branded leather jackets, gulping hard she took a step inside and made her way calmly towards the barman who was stood talking to an older man with long combed back hair and a well grown beard. Ali stood politely by the bar waiting for them to finish their conversation, but they had soon fallen silent and were now staring at her in disbelief at the strange girl beside them.

“Hi I’m really sorry to interrupt but I noticed the job advertisement outside and I was hoping to apply. I’ve worked in a pub before, clearing tables, taking orders and making cocktails. I am still in school but I can work after school, on the weekends and of course full time during the holidays. if your worried about me listening to things I ought not too, I am more than happy to work with my headphones in and avoid all forms of social interaction, but I really need this job.” She introduced using her sweetest smile and best puppy dog eyes. “Please, I promise I won’t cause any trouble.” she gave her best innocent smile. The tall man stood next to her smiled, reaching out his hand for her to shake.

“What’s your name kid?” The man asked, giving her an impressed look.

“Oh right, Ali, my names Ali, I should’ve led with that.” She laughed nervously, shaking the guys hand and turning to the man behind the bar to shake his hand too.

“Well Ali, I’m Tall Boy and this here is Hog Eye, he runs the bar.” Tall boy smiled, “You’ve got gumption kid I’ll give you that, you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” he asked gesturing to the crowd of branded gang members.

“I believe I’ve just applied for a job as a waitress in what appears to be the main hub for a group of people sporting logos of angry shoelaces and going by the name of Serpents. Correct me if I'm wrong.” Ali gave a friendly laugh, combing her hand nervously through her long hair, Hog Eye and Tall Boy laughed at her honest answer.

“Close kid, maybe keep the angry shoelace comment to yourself though yeah. Take it you’re not scared of snakes then.” Hog Eye chuckled leaning on the bar.

“I’ll bare that in mind thank you and as for snakes, I see no reason to be afraid of something that can be defeated by tying it in a knot, besides they are too cute to be scary. If you were called the spiders however, I would be moving country and praying you didn't find me. Too many legs.” Ali gave a disgusted shiver at the thought. Tall boy and Hog Eye laughed at her response, giving each other a quick nod before Hog Eye handed her a short black apron. 

“You can start tomorrow I take it? 5- 9pm see how you manage that for a bit, I’ll give you time to adjust before piling on the Hours.” Hog Eye smiled giving her a friendly nod, Ali smiled accepting the apron.

“Thank you so much, you won’t regret it.” She thanked Hog Eye before heading towards the door.

“Oh and Kid, you may want to rethink your choice in clothing, try to blend in a bit.” Tall Boy called, she raised her thumb to acknowledge his advice before disappearing out the door.

“Hey mum, you’ll never guess what I got today!” Ali called throwing her shoes on the shoe rack by the door and dumping her school bag on the kitchen table.

“A boyfriend?!” Her mum guessed, standing up from looking wishfully into the oven at the lasagne she had just finished putting together. Ali raised her eyebrows giving her mum a stern glare before giggling.

“Try less optimism and more reality.” Ali joked pouring her and her mum a large glass of orange juice each.

“Ok, soo... a job?” her mum guessed, looking at her daughters proud face.

“Yep, working in a bar called the Whyte Wyrm. the spelling bugs me but it was the only place close by that was advertising. I start tomorrow at 5.” Ali reported taking a large sip of her drink. Her mums face dropped and Ali could’ve sworn her pale blonde hair turned a shade greyer. 

“That’s serpent central Ali, I hope you know what you’re doing. I’ve heard an awful lot of stories about those guys, If I think its getting out of hand you’re leaving immediately understand.” Her mum stressed giving her a worried stare, Ali smiled placing a comforting hand on her mums shoulder. 

“It’s ok mum, Hog Eye said that I can work with my headphones in and I don’t have to talk to any one besides him and Tall Boy.” Ali soothed sitting at the table and starting on her homework. Her mum shook her head at the ridiculous names these serpents gave themselves but she put her trust in the fact that Ali knew how to handle herself and usually survived throwing herself into situations like this.

“Ok if you say its safe I believe you. So what homework are we doing tonight?” Her mum asked sitting beside Ali to look at the text book she was now pouring over. Ali loved doing her homework with her mum, she made everything seem so simple and she had yet to come across something her mum didn't know.

Masterlist

[ladye11e]

Deception pt 22

The conflict between the Assassins and the Templars is getting out of hand. Lies, deceit and subterfuge, now you must pick a side...

Tagging @geekgoddess813 @sweet-flash @ermergerd517 @i-wontgivein @imakemyownblog 💕😊

Anyone elsewho wants tagging, please ask 😁

Link to the full fic so far is Here.

 "I heard ya were lookin' for me. Well, here I am."

Tensing up when you heard three sets of hidden blades being flicked out, your eyes darted about as you contemplated what the hell you were going to do next. You were torn. Torn between doing what you should, and doing what was right. Your closest friend and your lover were about to go into conflict, and the only way to stop it was to come out and, most likely be hunted down for the rest of your life. Shay had exposed himself to save you, so revealing yourself to help him now was not an option, as his sacrifice would have been all for nothing. It felt like you had been internally debating for hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds, Jacobs snarling voice pulling you out of your turmoil.

"You're not getting away this time you prick. I've been waiting to get payback, and oh you're gonna get it good."

Eventually deciding on following through with what Shay had told you to do, you flicked out your blade and quickly undid the screws to the grate next to you, holding your breath and waiting for a moment when you could make your getaway. That came when you heard Shay chuckle mockingly at Jacobs threat, quickly followed by an explosion which you now recognised to be one of his smoke bombs. As soon as you spied the smog and the clash of metal on metal rang through the air, you yanked off the vent and hurriedly slid yourself inside, pulling the grate back into place to hide all traces of your escape.

You had no idea which way you were going, so you shimmied your way through the narrow duct until you came to another outlet, peering out of it so you could gain your bearings. Never before had you wished you had eagle vision like some of your other associates; quite content with having enhanced perception, but you now found yourself almost praying for it, as you narrowed your eyes to try and see in the almost pitch blackness of the room next to where you were. You felt your pulse jump in your throat when the lights suddenly flickered on, pressing yourself as hard as you could to the piping behind you when a pair of booted feet appeared in front of you.

"Jeysus christ, where the hell is everybody?! Jacob, where are you??"

Not moving a muscle when you heard the faint crackle of a walkie-talkie in between Edwards pacing, you took it as good news when he threw it to the floor and, stomped on it in anger when there was no reply. You were incredibly grateful for Eddie's impatience as he stormed out as fast as he had come in, letting your body relax slightly now that you knew where you were and, still undetected. Closing your eyes and mapping out the ship in your head again, you slid yourself further along and took the next left you came to, figuring that this would be the quickest way from the crews sleeping quarters to the main deck.

Double checking that you were completely alone, you almost cursed out loud when you slithered out of the last part of the shaft, clambering up and brushing yourself off with a scowl when you saw that you were now at the helm, and not on the mid-deck like you expected to be. Keeping your head low as you knew that what was left of the crew would be up and about now after the commotion, you peeked out of the window, to try and find a clear way off the ship.

You slapped your forehead when you spied several monitors to the left of you, forgetting that Eddie was a huge fan of keeping an eye on his crew to make sure that they weren't skiving off or doing anything that they shouldn't be. But before you could scan through the camera feeds, you froze to the spot and, felt sick to your stomach when you saw a smaller screen standing alone on top of the central dashboard, your blood running colder with each blip of the display.

Even though you thought your phone was damaged beyond repair, it seemed that the tracking chip had survived being immersed in seawater. The marker with your name above it on the screen was faint and very vague; most likely due to a weak signal, but it was working enough to show that your phone was here somewhere on Ponta Delgada.

It was all your fault.

How they found the Morrigan and were able to attack, the reason Shay was being hunted, was all because of you. Dropping to your knees as remorse flooded throughout you, you vowed to spend every waking moment making all of this right. Now was the time to choose, the Assassins, or the Templars, but the conflict burning inside wouldn't allow you to make that decision just yet. The only minor salvation you had, was that maybe they assumed that Shay had stolen your phone; probably to try and hack it to gain Assassin secrets or something, which is why Eddie hadn't killed you where you stood at the shopping mall.

Using the dash to pull yourself up as you were now trembling like a leaf, you cried out and grabbed the surveillance monitor nearest to you; your fingers gripping so hard that they began to tingle with the lack of blood running through them. A pricking started building up in your eyes as you stared at the screen, watching Connor drag an unconscious Shay by the foot down a long, white corridor.

Rage, panic, guilt, all of this and more consumed you as you dropped your hands when the men moved out of sight of the camera, but you had no time to do anything about it as the door suddenly banged open behind you, one of the crew bursting in and standing behind you with a gun pointed straight at your head.

"Don't. Move."

At that very moment, the white-hot storm of torment inside thrashed about so fiercely that you seemed to vibrate with it, raising to an excruciating peak, until... Nothing. No anger, no hurt, just a peaceful calmness as time seemed to stop around you. And that's when you heard it. A heartbeat, slow and rhythmic, but strong, coming from several metres below where you were stood.

"Shay...."

Without a second thought, you spun around and smacked the crewman's hand away before he could take a shot, flicking out your hidden blade and sinking it straight into his throat, not even flinching when crimson blood spurted all over your arm from where you had severed the artery. You stared at him callously for a moment as he fell to the floor with a strangled gargle, forcing you to roll him out of the way when he blocked the vent you had come out of. Turning back to the monitor briefly to make a mental note of where you had seen Shay being hauled off; disregarding it when you had the instinct that you didn't need to, you dropped to your knees and threw yourself back into the duct, crawling as fast as you could back down to the bottom deck.

Kicking the rat away that was scrambling over your leg while you lay as still as possible, trying to concentrate as being in the metal shaft was making the pulse you were following echo slightly, you used your tiptoes to shuffle yourself further down when it became clear again. Peering down when you could feel you were in the right place, you strained yourself when you could see Shay crumpled on the floor; thankfully with his mask and hood still up, but only Connor and Jacobs feet as they loomed over and argued about what to do with him.

"Come on, let me kill him! Look what he did to my face!"

"Oh shut up Frye, stop being such a pussy. Here, you're dripping blood all over my floor." Eddie barked as he burst through the door, and chucked him a towel from what you could see.

Your eyes were dragged away when you saw Shays' hands clench up tightly behind his back; but kept the rest of himself perfectly still so the assassins didn't know he was awake, making you remember that you still had in your earpiece in when you heard his shallow breathing in your ear.

"Shay, can you hear me? Wiggle your finger if you can." You whispered, knowing that you wouldn't be heard over the continued bickering about his fate.

Letting out a heavy silent breath when you saw his index finger twitch, you managed to twist yourself so you could dig into the inner pocket of your coat, gritting your teeth when you could only find a single sedative needle.

"I'm in the ducting above you. I've only got one tranquiliser left, who do you want me to use it on? One tap for yes, two for no."

You sighed when he immediately jerked his finger twice, from what you assumed was him saying no to your helping him escape.

"This is no time to argue! And it's not like you're in a position to stop me." You hissed, turning the catches on the vent almost all of the way so only the slightest of movements would make it drop. "Right. Eddie?"

Growling slightly when he didn't move at all this time, you lowered your voice even further, giving him one more chance before going at this with, or without his help.

"Eddie....?"

Finally. Two taps.

"Jacob?"

You already knew what the answer was going to be for him, so you weren't at all surprised when the reply was a no.

"Connor."

Swallowing hard when the expected one flick came, you snapped your head to the side when Jacob hobbled into view, wincing as a sharp hiss and groan rang in your ear when he booted Shay straight in the gut.

"Fine. Interrogate him then! But when you're done, he's mine."

Not knowing if Shay was in any condition to fight, you quickly studied every detail now that both Eddie and Jacob were in your sights, hoping to use everything you could to your advantage as there was little chance of you being able to defeat both men by yourself. Eddie had a minor sway in his step so you knew that he had probably been drinking for the past few hours, slowing his reaction times considerably and, as you were already faster than him, that would help no end.

"Impressive...." You whispered as you scrutinised Jacob, making Shays body vibrate slightly with what you guessed was a suppressed laugh.

He had a hefty gash across the bridge of his nose that was still weeping blood, his left eye was almost swollen shut, and judging from the way he held his arm around himself, most likely a cracked rib or two. But the most crucial detail was his limp. One swift hit on his knee would have him collapsing to the floor, unable to pursue you. You hoped.

Seeing that you were out of time; Eddie taking a few steps forward and dragging Shay up by the scruff of his coat, you turned yourself so you could jump down legs and not head first, poising yourself in a crouching position just above the opening.

Hopping forward on the balls of your feet, you knocked the grate out of the way and lept down quickly, flinging the needle in Connors direction before you had even landed. The second you saw it was implanted at the base of his neck, you ducked down and swept your leg; so it collided with the back of Jacobs' knee, making him fall to the deck and scream in agony.

"What the fuck?!? There's two of them???"

Flipping back when Eddie had let go of Shay in shock, you aimed yourself just right so the tip of your boot clipped him under the chin, sending him toppling and crashing against the wall. Not giving him a chance to gain his bearings, Shay suddenly lunged out from behind you and followed with a resounding punch straight in his jaw, leaving him not entirely knocked out, but incapacitated enough for now.

You yelped when Connor stumbled forwards and grabbed your shoulders, grasping at your hood in trying to pull it down, just managing it as he fell to his knees when the sedative finally kicked in. Thankfully, his eyes fluttered shut before he was able to look up at you, and Shay had manoeuvred himself to be in Jacobs line of sight while you hastily tugged it back up.

Now you were concealed again, you stood next to Shay and looked down on Jacob; who was still clutching his knee but was now scowling at both of you, expecting to feel upset, but you weren't. A touch of pity maybe, but other than that, nothing came.

Shay ducked down and plucked a dart out of his coat pocket, hovering it over Jacobs' neck with one hand and grabbing him by his shirt with the other, yanking him up so their faces were mere inches apart.

"I suggest you stop chasin' after me, or next time I won't be so forgiving."

"Never," Jacob growled, spitting on Shays boot as he jabbed the needle in his neck.

Turning to Shay when he took hold of your hand and pulled his mask down after Jacob had passed out, you did the same with a concerned look in your eyes when he gently rubbed the back of his head and cringed.

"You okay?"

"Just dandy love. Are you?!" He mumbled, his eyes drifting over the darkened patches of your coat, which was unmistakeably, drying blood.

"Yep, don't worry, it's not mine."

His eyes narrowed slightly as you just shrugged your shoulders; completely unfazed at killing someone even though you had been dead set against it, but he dismissed it quickly as he knew you had no time to discuss it here.

"Well, I reckon now we're about even. Let's go."

You chuckled as you drew your mask back up and raised your eyebrows at Eddie, who was mumbling something about wenches in his delirious state, before running out the door and out off the ship before anyone woke up.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

I’ll Take Her Place (Chapter 9)

Summary:  AU. When Allura breaks the news that she is to wed Prince Lotor in order to continue the peaceful relationship between Altea and Daibazaal, Pidge knows that she has to do something to change that. And so, with a little help, she comes up with a new plan. A better plan

Pairings: Keith/Pidge (main) ; Shiro/Allura (minor), Hunk/Lance (minor) ; Lotor/Allura (one-sided)

Chapter 1 - Previous - Masterpost

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net

I promised myself it wouldn’t take another month to write a single chapter and yet here I am, nearly a month later with the next chapter. I’m so sorry guys! Seriously, I’ll be focusing on finishing chapter 10 before I leave for Katsucon on the 15th.

Chapter 9

“Shiro and Allura were way more adorable than usual, right?” Lance asked as he massaged his nightly face mask into his skin. He could hear Hunk rustling around in the bedroom and the clatter of game controllers knocking into each other, which brought a smile to his face. It had been a while since their last casual game night using the console he and Pidge found on their first visit to Space Mall. “Which one of them do you think is more excited about Shiro's arm, him or Allura?”

Hunk laughed. “Shiro, for sure. He's just trying to play it cool.”

Lance tilted his head to make sure he hadn't missed a spot. “Well, yeah, he can't show how flustered he is by all of the attention. He's our super cool leader, after all.”

Satisfied that he'd sufficiently covered his skin with the mask, Lance rinsed off his hands and cleaned up his mess, making just enough noise that he didn't hear Hunk sneak up on him. He shrieked when he caught sight of Hunk's reflection in the mirror and his boyfriend laughed at him.

“It's not funny,” Lance grumbled.

“Sorry, babe,” Hunk apologized, but was unable to wipe the grin from his face. “Just checking in to see if you're almost done. I've got our game all set up.”

Lance perked right back up. “Oh yeah! Prepare to have your butt kicked!”

“I won't go down so easily this time. I've been practicing,” Hunk said, stepping aside to let Lance eagerly race for his favorite spot on the floor. He chuckled as he joined him, settling in just far enough away that Lance couldn't cheat by driving one of his elbows into Hunk's ribs as a distraction or revenge.

Hunk was just about to pick up his controller when an alarm began blaring. There was a split second of hesitation as he met Lance's equally frightened blue eyes, and then the two were moving, the game station abandoned as Lance rushed to scrub his face clean and Hunk scrambled for his communicator.

“Shiro, what's going on?” he asked, the moment he saw his leader's face on the screen.

“Pidge activated her emergency beacon. Allura and I are already on route to her location. I need you and Lance in your armor and awaiting further instructions, understood?”

Hunk was already opening the panel in the wall where he and Lance kept an extra set of armor. “Got it. We're getting ready now.” He moved almost entirely on autopilot as he stripped down in order to tug on the form-fitting black under-suit. He was aware of Lance soon joining him to do the same, but neither of them said a word, too wrapped up in worrying about what was happening with Pidge.

Years of practice soon saw the pair fully dressed in their armor and exiting their room at a brisk jog. While Hunk activated the map in his bracer to see where in the castle the others were, Lance contacted Shiro.

“She's in the gardens. Shiro and Allura are almost there,” Hunk said, easily zeroing in on the brightly colored dots on his map.

“Shiro, we're heading your way,” Lance announced. “What's going on out there? Are we under attack?”

“No. I'm not sure what's going on yet,” Shiro responded, his voice strained. Whether it was from his run to the gardens or from not knowing what was happening with Pidge, Lance wasn't sure. “Hunk, can you get a read on her vitals?”

“Uh, yeah. Hang on,” Hunk said, quickly tapping on the unmoving green dot.

After a handful of kidnapping attempts and the one time a wormhole backfired and left them scattered for days, each of them had been given an emergency tracking device which was to be worn at all times. On top of serving as an emergency distress call, it also monitored basic vital signs.

He frowned at the tiny screen. “Hey, I know the blood pressure readings aren't the most accurate with these, but Pidge's readings are pretty low considering her how high her heart rate has spiked.”

Shiro cursed and they could hear Allura mutter darkly in Altean. Hunk and Lance picked up their pace in response.

'Hang on, Pidge.'

Keithir was no stranger to accidents or injuries, but that didn't stop him from feeling wholly out of place as he stripped out of his outer jacket and pressed the dark fabric against Katie's shoulder, where the bullet had penetrated her skin. She hissed in pain at the contact, but didn't try to push him away or demand that he let her up.

His mind was a whirlwind of half-formed thoughts and ideas. He knew he needed to get help, but he couldn't leave her here alone. It was also too risky for him to break cover. If the sniper was still out there, waiting for another opportunity, then he wouldn't stand a chance even running at his top speed.

“Don't worry. Help's on the way,” Katie said through gritted teeth.

Keithir started, pushing a little too hard and eliciting a quiet whimper from the tiny girl. “How did you...?”

“It was the first thing I thought of,” she said, holding up her right wrist, which was adorned with a golden band that pressed firmly against her skin. On the underside was a bright green crystal, which steadily blinked to show it was activate. “Emergency distress. The other Paladins are on their way.”

Keithir felt a rush of relief at the news. It didn't alleviate the immediate danger they were in, but it was better than he'd thought. “How long until they get here?”

“Not sure. Protocol says we get to our armor first, so it depends on where they were in the castle,” Katie explained. “If I had to guess, then maybe ten minutes? Less, if Shiro was still in the training room. I think he's trying to adjust to that arm so he doesn't hurt anyone else.” She paused, looking at him with a strange expression before grinning wryly.

Keithir's ears flicked back, listening for the sound of footsteps rushing toward them, but he heard nothing. “What?”

“We almost match.”

It was so stupid, so out of place, that he was startled into laughing. “You're delirious.”

“I haven't lost that much blood,” she responded. “Ugh, this hurts. I thought all of the guns out here fire lasers.”

“Some assassins like old fashioned methods. If their client wants to cause pain before the target dies, this is how they do it,” Keithir said nonchalantly.

Katie stared at him in confusion.

“I'm a prince, remember? I've been the target of assassination attempts since I was a cub,” Keithir bitterly reminded her. “I didn't think it was something I had to worry about here, so I let my guard down. This is all my fault.”

“It's not supposed to be something you have to worry about. There are guards stations at each tower and along the wall, and they double the number on days we have guests,” she said, frowning. She tried to sit up and get a better look around, but Keithir firmly held her in place.

“Stop moving or you'll lose blood faster,” he snapped.

How long had they been waiting? It felt like hours had passed since Katie tackled him out of harm's way. (And when had he started calling her 'Katie'?) Why hadn't anyone showed up? Where were all of the guards? Had no one heard the gunshot?

Keithir wished Thace was there with them, or at least still on-world. He would know what to do. Of all times for him to be called away on mission...

He pressed down a little harder on Katie's shoulder, trying not to let his worry overwhelm him. He just needed to focus on his task.

“You know, I never would have expected you to be so calm about something like this,” Katie quietly admitted. “Even Allura panicked the first time one of us got hurt.”

“I've had training. I'm the second son, so when I was young, father sent me to be trained by the Blade,” Keithir said, realizing a little too late that he'd divulged something meant to be kept secret. He couldn't bring himself to feel too much regret, as Katie didn't react as though she knew what he was talking about.

“Pidge!” Shiro's voice cut through the air with an edge of panic.

Keithir could imagine how bad it looked: him crouched over her, pressing a cloth to her shoulder as crimson blood stained the ground around them.

Footsteps thundered toward them and then Shiro and Allura were there, both dressed in armor, and taking control of the situation. Allura took one look at what was happening and stepped aside to call for the medical team, while Shiro knelt down with them.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Sniper in the west tower,” Katie responded, getting straight to the point.

Shiro quickly relayed the new information to Hunk and Lance after assuring them that while she was hurt, she would be fine. “I need you two at that tower. Find out where the guards are and question anyone you see along the way.”

“Help is on the way,” Allura said as she rejoined them. “Shiro, are you hearing the same reports I am?”

Shiro nodded as he stood back up. “We stick together. This could be a diversion. Keithir, stay with Pidge.”

Keithir looked at him in alarm. “You're leaving?”

Shiro's jaw tensed. “Stay with Pidge,” he repeated before he and Allura went racing off, determined to track down the one who hurt their friend. Even if the reports of a strange figure were just a diversion, they had to go check.

The last thing Pidge remembered was being surrounded by a team of frazzled Altean medics, while a tall Galra with light blueish skin ushered Prince Keithir out of the room. The image of his worried, violet eyes was one that burned itself into her brain, and he was the first person she thought of when the anesthesia wore off enough for her to wake.

Her eyes felt heavy as she tried to open them and briefly got a look at the ceiling of a dimly lit room before she let them slide shut again. She groaned miserably.

“Pidge?”

She could feel Shiro shift at her bedside, the mattress sinking slightly at the weight he applied to it. Pidge turned her head and managed to crack open her eyes and give him a sleepy smile. “Hey, Shiro. You look awful,” she hoarsely told him.

The Black Paladin chuckled and helped her sit up, rearranging the pillows behind her. “Some of us didn't have the luxury of sleeping for three days,” he teased as he handed her a cup of water to sip on.

“Three days?” Pidge repeated incredulously. “Ugh, no wonder I feel like a sack of wet sand. What did I miss? Did you find the sniper?”

Shiro sat up straight, his joking demeanor shifting to one much more serious. “I sent Hunk and Lance to investigate, but they couldn't find anything and the reports Allura and I looked into were also a bust. All of the security around that tower was disabled and the guards...”

Cold dread settled in Pidge's chest. She didn't need Shiro to finish his sentence.

Shiro breathed in and continued. “The Emperor and Empress left early this morning, at the recommendation of the Daibazaal council and Altean advisers. They've requested daily reports and have sent additional support for Keithir's protection.”

“Is he okay?”

“He's over there,” Shiro said, gesturing to the other side of the room.

Pidge turned her head to find Keithir curled up on a cot nearby, his ears twitching in his sleep. His breathing was slow and steady.

“He took my request to stay with you more seriously than I expected. He hasn't left the room since Ulaz let him back in after stitching you up,” Shiro said.

Pidge couldn't take her eyes off of Keithir, flattered that he'd stayed by her side the entire time she was unconscious. “I'm glad he's okay,” she whispered, the words slipping out.

Shiro smiled.

“So how long am I going to be stuck here? A few more days?” Pidge asked.

“No. A week.”

Pidge turned back to gape at him. “A week?! I can't sit here for a week! I'll go crazy! Shiro, please, can't you do something?”

Shiro crossed his arms over his chest and she knew that there was no getting him to budge on the matter. “A week was all I could talk Ulaz down to. Your shoulder needs time to heal and that won't happen if you're constantly working on projects. If the pods were working, it would be different.”

He was right. And Pidge knew he was right, but that didn't stop her irritation from bubbling to the surface. It was a whole week of lost time – of Rover 2.0 left in pieces across her workbench; of her mini-gravitational field generator nothing more than a sketch on a piece of paper and a list of parts and equations; of Greenie sitting alone in her hangar.

“Greenie...!” She lifted up her head, her eyes going wide. “She didn't try to break out, did she?”

“No, you must have closed off your side of the bond on instinct,” Shiro responded. “According to Black, she's getting restless. Let her know you're okay while you're still awake.”

“I've had enough sleep for a while, thanks,” Pidge said, closing her eyes to better focus. She reached out and cautiously felt for her Lion.

A wave of worry – relief – rage spilled over and Pidge struggled to keep their bond open under the onslaught. She focused on keeping her breathing steady and let the emotions flow until Greenie pulled them back and sent through the mental equivalent of an apologetic purr.

Pidge stayed in that space for a while, trying to relay everything to her Lion and receiving well-meaning, but irresponsible advice in return. (Most of it involved creative escape attempts ranging from bribing her guard to climbing out through the vents to Greenie blasting a hole in the wall and flying her far, far away from harm.) Though, there was one idea that had merit.

She wasn't sure she was desperate enough to request for the “small, annoying one” to fly to Altea and try and fix the cryo-pods, but it was a good idea. If Altea and Daibazaal's best couldn't figure it out, maybe the needed the crazy genius.

Shiro would never forgive her for suggesting it.

When Pidge opened her eyes, her leader was no longer at her bedside. In his place was Allura.

“Did you get things settled with your Lion?” she asked.

“Well, she's less likely to go on a rampage to avenge me now,” Pidge said, mostly joking. “Where'd Shiro go? I wasn't out for another three days, was I?”

Allura laughed and shook her head. “Not this time. I think it's only been an hour or so since Shiro left with Prince Keithir to meet with the leader of the Blade of Marmora. Kolivan must be fond of him if he's personally here to serve as added protection...”

Pidge frowned, trying to think of where she'd heard that name before. It had only been in passing and struck her as something she wasn't supposed to know about. Maybe she heard it while looking for her father and brother, but dismissed it as being unrelated to her search. “What's the Blade of Marmora?”

“Ah, well,” Allura carefully gazed around the empty room to make sure they really were alone. She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Not many know that they still exist. I only do because I will rule Altea after father, and I'm only telling you because you'll likely be working closely with them from now on. This must be kept secret, understood?” She waited until Pidge nodded and then continued. “As you know, ten-thousand years ago there was a long, terrible war between Altea and Daibazaal and it was during this war that Voltron first appeared and helped put an end to it all. The original Paladins didn't do it all by themselves, of course.  They had help from rebels in outlying systems and planets enslaved by either side, but before any of them, there was the Blade of Marmora.

“Marmora was once a colony planet, populated by Galra and Alteans. It's said there was nothing else quite like it. Of course, that all changed when war broke out and Marmora found itself caught in the crossfire. Daibazaal demanded that all Alteans living there be given up, and any Galra who did so would be pardoned of treason. Altea...” Allura took a moment to compose herself in face of the darker history of her people. “Altea did the same. They sent a message to the planet, saying that any Altean who gave up their Galra family would be spared and welcomed home with open arms.

“Marmora refused. And for that, they were destroyed. An entire planet – one dedicated to the peace between our two worlds, gone in a matter of seconds. Reduced to rubble.

“Those who survived, banded together and began working in secret, infiltrating both sides to gather intelligence. They sabotaged what they could and delivered the information to those who could do something when they could not. Without their work, without their determination, we would still be at war.” Allura paused to collect her thoughts and stop herself from delving too deeply into talking about the war. “Since then, the Blade has faded into shadow and myth while continuing to work alongside Daibazaal, Altea, and all of our allies to keep peace in our system.”

“But why in secret? Would it really be so bad if everyone knew?” Pidge asked.

“In the past, there have been those who spoke out against the Blade's existence, even after all of the good they have done,” Allura explained. “They believe that because all members of the Blade are Galra, or part Galra, their true allegiance is with Daibazaal. But the fact is, most members of the Blade are born on other planets or stations scattered across the universe. Many have never even set foot on Daibazaal. I wish I knew how they were chosen, but it's one of their closely guarded secrets.”

Pidge was quiet for a moment, taking time to digest the new information she'd been given. “So... they're here to, what? Keep an eye on things so Altea and Daibazaal don't go to war?” she asked, thinking outloud.

Allura winced. “I don't think it's that serious. The fact is, someone tried to kill Prince Keithir and that's not something to be treated lightly.” She sat back and neatly folded her hands in her lap. “Security has been increased across Altea and we have shut down all but the major ports to try and prevent the sniper from leaving, but father and Emperor Zarkon fear they're already long gone. Until further notice, the Lions have also been grounded, unless there is an emergency.” She sighed, her blue eyes distant. “So much has happened lately. I don't know how much of it it mere coincidence and how much is deliberate sabotage.”

Pidge didn't want to bring up her opinion. It had far too little basis in fact for it to be anything substantial at that moment, and yet... After Honerva's warning, it wasn't something she could ignore.

“This might sound like a strange question, but... where has Lotor been since the night Keithir agreed to marry me?” she asked, carefully watching Allura's face for her reaction.

The princess frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to figure out why Pidge was bringing up Lotor. And then she paled and sucked in a breath. “You don't think...? Is he really that determined that he would have his own brother killed?”

“I don't know,” Pidge responded. “But earlier that day, after I left the training room, Empress Honerva asked to speak with me alone and warned me to be careful around him.”

Allura looked troubled. “Her own son... Have you told Shiro about this yet?”

Pidge shook her head. “I was going to, but then everything else happened and I haven't had the chance.”

Allura stood up and smoothed the creases out of her dress. “I will let him know. Is there anything you need? I can see if Hunk has a meal prepared. He and Lance have been waiting for you to wake so they can come see you.”

“Some company would be nice,” Pidge said.

At least with her friends around, she could forget that she was confined to bed for the next week. And if she was lucky, she could convince them to bring her a few things to work on. Just little things.

(Shiro didn't need to know.)

“I'll send them up,” Allura promised before she left.

Pidge spent her period of solitude trying to decide what she should ask for. It couldn't be too much, or else Hunk would go into his “worried mother hen” mode and not let Lance sneak her anything. If she couldn't handle three days of Hunk taking care of her the one time she got sick, there was no way she'd last a full week.

“You'll get through this. Be strong,” she whispered to herself.

Though their bond, Pidge got the strong feeling that her Lion was laughing at her predicament.

NEXT