#made a tiny tink noise and everything

[noodles-bug-place]

There has been a rather concerning amount of dirt shrimp appearing in my basement or in the window on the inside… 3, to be exact, which, like, any is concerning lol i don’t want them to dehydrate or starve or desiccate in there,, so they are now living with the rest of my wild A. nasatum colony lol

[strangerstilinski]

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ✶ Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinski / Original Female Character

TW | S2

chapter five

summary; as if the last month and a half hadn't been stressful enough – now there were a few more werewolves, a kanima, and a seriously disturbed old man added into the mix. but amber, stiles, and scott could totally handle this. it would be fine. everything was great.

word count; 20k

warnings; explicit sexual content, first time oral sex, car shenanigans, amber and stiles being annoyingly sweet on one another

chapter notes; stiles tries his hand at being romantic and roscoe sees some action. mayhem erupts when derek and his pack decide that the kanima has to be lydia.

masterlist

c h a p t e r f i v e

venomous

There was a quiet *tink* from her left and Amber's head snapped up in surprise from where she'd been laying on her bed reading a book for English. She blinked in the silence that followed before the soft noise sounded again and she pushed herself to sit up, abandoning the worn paperback on the bedspread beside her.

Still unsure where the sound was coming from, she dropped her feet to the floor at the edge of the bed and waited. She was just about to stand when there was a louder, more aggressive version of the noise as something smacked sharply against her window.

She rushed over to peer out through the glass and into the backyard. Squinting into the darkness below, she could just make out the shape of someone squatting beneath her window with their hood up, their hands digging around in the garden before blindly tossing another rock up at the window where it smacked aggressively against the glass in front of her.

Amber slid the slightly creaky window open and laughed when Stiles' head snapped up at the sound. He got to his feet quickly and brushed his hands off on his jeans before waving up at her with a sweet smile.

"Can I ask why exactly you're trying to break my window?" She laughed, leaning onto her elbows on the windowsill.

Stiles spluttered quietly below, "Wh- I'm not trying to- I'm throwing pebbles!" He told her, as if the simple correction explained everything.

"I think a couple of those might've been too big to be considered pebbles-"

"It is not my fault your backyard is significantly lacking in appropriately tiny rocks-" He interrupted.

"Sorry, sorry. Why exactly are you throwing pebbles at my window?" She amended, an amused smile pulling at her lips, "Y'know, instead of using the front door.."

"I- I'm being romantic!" He called up defensively.

"You know what would be really romantic?" She asked playfully, "If you weren't fifteen feet away and I could give you a kiss."

"Good call!" Stiles shouted as he scrambled away, his feet slipping in the damp grass beneath him as he ran out of the backyard.

She shook her head fondly as she watched him go before sliding the window shut again. She skipped down the stairs quickly, catching Jason raising his eyebrows at her curiously as he headed up the steps with a glass of water, the two of them meeting halfway on the staircase.

"Hey, did I hear the Jeep pull in a minute ago?" Her brother asked.

"You did." Amber paused in her path down the stairs.

"Knew it," Jason nodded, "That engine's got a very distinct and mildly concerning rumble-"

Amber laughed and went to continue her descent down the staircase but her brother's hand on her shoulder made her pause again.

"You two.. You're being safe, right?" Jason asked, looking painfully embarrassed as he forced question out of his mouth, "Because I, uh.. Well I noticed the box of condoms in the bathroom hasn't been opened and I want to be relieved but-"

"Wh- Jase, I promised I'd tell you if we moved past friendship and- and I did that. I mean.. Do- do we have to have this talk right now?" She muttered weakly, eyes flicking to the hallway that led to the front door.

"Yeah, we kinda do, bud," Her brother winced, "I just would feel a whole lot better if I knew you were at least prepared if you decide to-"

"If I open the box of condoms and promise to keep one on me, can we end this conversation?" Amber questioned frantically.

Her brother frowned with a sigh, "Yeah.. Yeah, I guess so."

"Good! Great!" She ran back up the stairs, tearing open the cardboard package in the bathroom and stuffing one of the foil wrappers into her pocket.

In the upstairs hallway, the siblings shared equally embarrassed looks as Amber shoved past him and ran back downstairs again. Stiles was standing patiently at the open front door as she stepped into the entryway and she took a calming breath at the sight of him.

"Well, hey there, Romeo." She greeted with a teasing grin as she met him the open doorway.

"Throwing pebbles is romantic," Stiles defended his actions immediately, "It's a staple in thousands of romance books, songs, movies, plays-"

"You are very romantic, Stiles." She pulled gently at the unbuttoned edges of the flannel beneath his sweatshirt until his chest was pressed against hers.

"Yes. I am. Thank you." His voice dropped into something quieter as his eyes flicked between hers, "I, um.. I was under the impression that I'd get a kiss if I used the front door."

"Oh, really?" She asked, leaning back just a little, "Who told you that?"

"Most beautiful girl in the world." He answered without hesitation, his hands resting softly on her elbows.

"Who is she? I hate her." She joked, already leaning in to brush their lips together.

He met her mouth halfway, slotting his lips between hers for a wonderfully long kiss. When he leaned back to catch his breath, Amber licked her lips in thought.

"What're you doing here?" She questioned after a second, "Did I forget we were supposed to-"

"I have an outing of sorts planned." He told her with a grin, "I know that things have been kind of crazy-"

"Mm, I hadn't noticed that-"

He ignored her interruption, "-and I wanted to do something to show you that I still very much want to take you out on dates and things. Despite the crap with the kanima."

"Dates and things," She repeated slowly, "Am I being courted, Stilinski?" His face broke out in a grin and he nodded, "What did you have in mind?"

"Well-" He started, turning to gesture toward the driveway where a familiar powder blue Jeep was parked with a wrapped bundle of flowers on the hood, "If you really wanna find out you'll just have to get your cute little ass in the car."

Amber bent over immediately to pull on a pair of shoes before pushing past him, "My ass is getting in the car!" She called out over her shoulder.

Stiles laughed as he followed but when she went to pull the passenger door open, a hand reached past her to grip the handle before she could move to do it herself. She spun around as the door swung open and her heart fluttered at the sight of Stiles holding up the bundle of white flowers behind her.

"You got me a bouquet of baby's breath?" She asked with a soft smile, reaching for the flowers and poking at the tiny buds delicately with the tip of her finger.

"I did," He smiled at her reaction, "You should've seen the florist's face when I asked for them, though. I guess they're normally only used as a filler for bigger flowers or something-? I'm pretty sure that she thought me asking for a bouquet of only baby's breath was, like, sacrilegious. The lady was not happy with me."

She brought a hand up to his cheek and brought their lips together again in a chaste kiss, "Well thank you for your sacrifice, because I love them. They're my favorite."

"Got a few more favorites waiting if you ever get your ass in the Jeep." Stiles urged playfully.

She rolled her eyes and turned to haul herself up into the vehicle, yelling out in surprise at the sharp smack of Stiles' hand against her backside as she climbed in.

"Sorry," He apologized quickly, "I don't know why I-"

She laughed loudly and sat down in the seat so she could turn to look at him, "Did you just slap my ass?" She questioned in amusement.

"I did," He admitted, cheeks flushing adorably pink, "I dunno what happened.. It was right there and I just-"

"Spanked me?" She asked, barely containing her gleeful laughter.

"I was trying to be a gentleman by opening your door and then I ruined it by- By spanking.. you." Stiles shook his head, an endearing flush still rising on his face.

"You're adorable. And you didn't ruin anything." She assured him.

He laughed weakly, "Okay.. Okay, we're moving on."

He closed the passenger door and rounded the vehicle quickly before climbing in on the other side. Once he was seated he leaned into the backseat and returned with a large styrofoam cup that Amber already knew came from the diner downtown.

"You got me a milkshake from Mal's?" She asked excitedly, placing her bouquet of flowers onto the dashboard to take the cup from his outstretched hand.

"I did," He confirmed before leaning into the back again and digging around, "I also got you this-" He sat back down in the driver's seat with a large paper shopping bag in his lap and Amber's eyebrows furrowed as she watched him set the bag down beside him on the seat, "But I'm not giving it to you until we get there."

She pouted and Stiles spun in his seat to turn the key determinedly in the ignition a couple of times. The engine rumbled to life and Amber perked up where she had her lips already wrapped around the straw of her drink.

"Where are we going?" She asked eagerly, placing her styrofoam cup between her legs in lieu of a cupholder.

"It's a really clear night tonight, so.. I was thinking driving out to the lookout might be nice?" Stiles asked more than told her, "We'll probably be able to see a lot of stars and stuff and I just thought it might be kinda cool. If you want, I mean."

Her stomach tangled in knots in a sort of nervous anticipation, "Yeah, yeah that would be cool."

It wouldn't be the first time they'd been to the preserve lookout together, or even the tenth. They'd gone there to camp out, picnic, stargaze, and spend countless lazy afternoons in the sun. But Amber wasn't entirely sure if they'd ever gone without Scott's company. On a night like this, the spot was practically calling out to be a romantic destination and the insinuation sparked anxious excitement deep in her bones.

Stiles navigated the dark evening roads through town and as her excited nerves grew, her fingers gravitated to pick mindlessly at a loose thread on the seam of her jeans. After a few minutes, her gaze drifted down to the paper bag still sitting temptingly in between them and she leaned over curiously in an attempt to peek inside.

"Nope," Stiles said as soon as he noticed what she was doing, pulling the bag protectively against his side and scowling at her, "I already told you.. You don't get the rest until we get there."

She pouted but settled back into her seat dutifully, bringing the straw of drink back to her lips and sipping on it as she watched buildings pass in a blur that eventually gave way to trees outside the window.

When her straw finally slurped obnoxiously at the bottom of the cup, her eyes dropped down to the milkshake in her hands in surprise and she found herself frowning and poking the straw around at the bottom as she searched for the final dregs of the beverage.

They were less than five minutes away from the preserve entrance when she tucked the empty cup away in the backseat to be dealt with later.

When Stiles finally parked the Jeep at the lookout and cut the engine, she turned in her seat to face him expectantly, eyeing the paper bag against his side.

"Okay, okay." He caved with a laugh, handing over the bag.

She peeked inside excitedly, surprised to find not just one thing, but several smaller items hidden away inside the bag. The first thing she pulled out was a package of sour gummy worms and her eyes rose to meet Stiles' gaze with a pleased smile.

"Your favorite candy." He supplied, gesturing for her to keep going.

The next item she found was a bottle of nail polish in a beautifully bright, sunflower yellow hue.

"Your favorite color." Stiles said slowly.

She looked back inside the bag and spotted a tiny bundle of green fabric and she reached for it in confusion. She fingered the soft material in her hand and her lips pulled into a surprised smile as she toyed with the stretchy material.

"You got me a scrunchie?" She asked, looking between the puffy elastic in her hands and the boy sitting across from her.

"I did," He said, "I know it's not technically a 'favorite' but, in my defense, I didn't really go out looking for it. I was just kinda browsing and then I saw that color and it made me think of the green in your eyes and so- And, uh, yeah.." He trailed off.

She pinched her lower lip between her teeth to stop her face from showing just how breathtakingly perfect of a human being she thought Stiles Stilinski truly was. The utterly endearing image of him plucking a large scrunchie from the shelf at a department store. And then paying for it at the register, where a middle aged woman had likely checked his purchase with a knowing look-

"Thank you," She told him softly, "I love it. It's a really nice color."

He looked slightly relieved at her reaction and he gave her a nod in indication to keep going. When she dove back in, it was to pull out a crisp, newly purchased paperback that she quickly flipped around to skim over the summary on the back cover, an excited smile taking over her face.

"Your favorite.. Genre, I guess?" He told her, "I know you're really into the whole 'whodunit' trope, so I asked the person at the bookstore and they recommended this one. I read the description and thought it sounded kinda cool-"

"It looks great. I'm really excited to read it." She assured him quickly, "Sti, this.. Is so sweet.. And so unbelievably unfair. You asshole. I cannot believe you're upstaging me by getting me such a thoughtful gift one month before your own birthday. Now I have to come up with something mind-blowingly perfect-"

"Anything you get me will be mind-blowingly perfect," Stiles shrugged easily, "Now open up that package of gummy worms because I've been thinking about them for the last hour and I really want one."

With a laugh, she returned all but the candy into the bag and placed it in the backseat before tearing the package open and poking around curiously at the different colors.

"I can never remember, is your favorite the one with the blue?" She questioned, pausing in deliberation.

"Yeah, the blue and red one." Stiles confirmed, scrambling to open his mouth when she immediately tossed one his way and he just managed to do so in time to catch it with his tongue.

"Too bad the blue isn't with the orange," She commented as she chewed on her own sour candy. Stiles furrowed his brows and she elaborated, "Y'know, because Mets."

He grinned, looking pleased with her reference, but before he could say anything she spoke again.

"Oh! Oh, wait, I have an idea!" She announced, picking through the bag excitedly.

She grabbed an orange and green worm as well as a blue and red one and bit off the unwanted colors. Pressing the remaining blue and orange pieces together, she held the new franken-worm up in display proudly.

"Mets!" She declared, handing the pieces of candy to the boy across the car.

"Perfect," Stiles agreed, taking the broken worm from her and tossing the pieces into his mouth, "You are perfect."

Amber's cheeks heated as she munched on her candy, her eyes drifting to the windshield to look out at the stunning view of the starry sky and the flickering distant lights of the lit up town over the cliffside.

"This is really, really nice." She commented after a few minutes of silence as they shared the bag of candy, "You didn't need to do all this, but I'm really glad you did."

He blushed lightly and readjusted in his seat, "Yeah, I just, um. I wanted to do something special."

He reached up to rub at the back of his neck and his shirt rose along his stomach with the action just enough to expose a bit of his happy trail. Her jaw slackened as she was drawn to the movement, eyes glued to the dark patch of hair as she attempted to swallow the candy in her mouth with a heavy tongue.

"I, uh. I actually-"

"Stiles?" She interrupted, licking her lips and dragging her gaze up to his face, "Can I come over there and kiss you?"

He blinked in surprise but nodded, "Yeah, yeah definitely. I- How could I say no to that?"

She slid across the leather bench seat and found herself simply staring at his lips for a moment before Stiles brought a hand to her cheek and drew their mouths together in impatience. She sighed against his lips contentedly as his fingers tangled in her hair and she sunk into the embrace, tilting her head in an attempt to seal their mouths together more firmly as his lips parted against hers. Their tongues brushed despite the awkward angle and she held back a groan at the taste of the candy that lingered on his tongue. She pulled herself away to kick her shoes off on the floor beneath the passenger seat and he frowned at the sudden loss of contact.

"What're you-"

His question was cut off as she climbed into his lap, thighs spread as she knelt over him, the steering wheel at her back.

"Is this okay?" She questioned, suddenly nervous as her fingertips skimmed along the soft fabric of his sleeves. Her weight pressed down against him more firmly as she settled into a comfortable position and Stiles nodded quickly in the dimly lit vehicle. At his approval, she leaned down to reconnect their mouths and he kissed her back eagerly, their lips moving against one another in a smooth rhythm.

She pulled back after another minute and huffed a quiet laugh against his lips when he gazed up at her in confusion.

"Stiles," She said, running her hands down his arms at their sides until she could take his hands into hers, "You're not even touching me." She pointed out gently.

"Sorry," He apologized immediately, "I'm sorry. I'm being really weird, aren't I? God."

At his admission, she leaned back a little further, thumbs rubbing softly along the backs of his hands, "Are you okay?" She asked, pushing herself up on her knees and making a small move to climb off of him, "Do you want me to-"

"No!" Stiles said quickly, reaching up to grip at the sides of her thighs and tugging her back down into his lap, "No, I'm sorry. I just-" He swallowed, "I'm really nervous." He admitted quietly.

She huffed in disbelief, trailing her hands up his chest and pressing her palms lightly over his pecks beneath the open edges of his flannel. As if emphasizing his words, she could feel the heavy thumping of his heart beneath her right hand.

"Did I do something wrong? Am I doing something that's making you nerv-"

"No." Stiles repeated, "I'm kind of- I'm terrified I'm gonna do something wrong and screw this up monumentally."

"So instead you thought the right move was to just.. Lie there like a corpse underneath me?" She questioned in amusement, "Stiles, you've given me a bloody nose with your elbow on two different occasions-"

"Both of which were accidents. And not at all relevant because it's not that I'm worried I'm going to injure you-"

"My point is that I'm not gonna run away if you don't put your hands in just the right-"

"I know, okay. I- Logically I know that." Stiles conceded, his fingertips drumming on the sides of her thighs anxiously, "I'm sorry. I- Did I completely ruin the mood?"

She shook her head, her hair whipping around between their faces as she did so.

"Stiles." She said firmly, watching him blink at her in question before she leaned down to press a quick kiss to his lips, "I'm still very much in the mood." She punctuated her words by rolling her hips down softly over his and was rewarded with a soft groan from him, "How about you?"

"Yeah, yes. Still very interested." He assured her quickly.

She tilted her head down to bring their mouths together again but separated their lips after a only moment to tug her shirt over her head, tossing it into the backseat. Stiles brought his hands up to skim the fabric of her bra seemingly without thought, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as his fingers twitched along her ribcage distractedly.

"You're doing it again." She scolded softly when he made no move to either grope nor kiss her, simply letting his thumbs rest along the underwire as he eyed her chest with interest.

"I- It is not entirely my fault-" Stiles defended quietly, "I mean, your tits are seriously-" He cut himself off with a wince, eyes rising to meet her own, "I mean- I- Your.. Breasts-?"

"Stiles, you can call them whatever you want. You seriously don't need to worry so much about offending me." She laughed, "I've been your best friend for eight years. I'm pretty sure I've heard you say things a lot more vulgar than 'tits'."

"Right, you're right." He nodded, gaze dropping back down to the plushness of her breasts displayed in front of him, "So, anyway- Your tits. Perfect. Freakin' amazing. And very, very distracting."

She blushed at the comment, settling her ass firmly over the tops of his thighs and arching her back, her chest canting toward him enticingly as she watched for his reaction.

"They are?" She questioned, reaching up to readjust the thin fabric of her bra over herself casually.

"When I slammed Scott's locker on his hand last week, it was because I was staring at your tits." Stiles admitted in a rush.

"You broke his fingers," She recalled before her eyes widened in both shock and amusement, "You broke Scott's fingers because you were looking at my boobs?"

"Listen, that bra was criminal. I mean, come on.. The lace?" Stiles defended, his thumbs drifting up to rub lightly over the bottom of her breast, "And besides, Scott was fully healed in like two minutes. He was being kind of a baby about it if you ask me-"

"I could wear that one next time," She offered breathlessly, "There's no padding, so I kinda feel like it makes my boobs look small but-"

"I can confidently say that your boobs would look incredible in absolutely anything." Stiles commented quickly.

"If you wanted to stop talking about my boobs and maybe start touching them for real.. I wouldn't complain-"

He wasted no time before palming both of his hands over her chest, his long fingers gripping the roundness of each breast as he dusted them over the material of her bra. He tightened his hands to squeeze softly and she let out a breathy exhale at the feeling, her hips rolling unconsciously against the slowly growing bulge in his jeans as she gripped the loose lapels of his over-shirt.

Stiles dropped his hands to her hips for half a second, his head dipping down to press a soft kiss in the space between her breasts before he slid his hands back to cup her ass. He pressed more gentle kisses to her chest, the tenderness contradicted by the tightening of his grip on her backside as he pulled her against him to help roll her hips rhythmically.

"You're wearing too many clothes." She breathed quietly after a few minutes, pinching his offending shirt between her fingers.

Stiles nodded in agreement and she leaned back as he sat up straighter and began to slip out of his sweatshirt and flannel. He threw both articles behind himself uncaringly before reaching behind his neck for the collar of his tshirt and pulling that over his head and from his body as well, letting it land over the steering wheel behind the girl in his lap.

She eyed his chest slowly, trailing down the subtle muscles as he nervously tensed his stomach under her attention. When her eyes caught on the dark patch of hair under his belly button that led beneath the waistband of his pants, she let out a shaky breath at the arousal that flooded her.

Her hands came out to follow the same path her eyes had taken only a moment before, fingers dragging slowly down his stomach until her thumbs met in the tiny trail of hair above his groin. She licked her lips and ran her thumbs softly over the dark hairs, the tip of her finger catching on the waistband of his boxers where they came up just above his jeans.

Stiles huffed out a quiet breath as he tried to keep still under her attention, his hands returning to grip tightly at her thighs as he steadied himself.

She leaned back down in a quick movement to recapture his lips hungrily. Her fingers pressed into his abdomen as his mouth opened beneath her own, lips parting and rejoining as they traded deep kisses.

His hand made a slow trail along her thigh until he could reach between them, his fingers pressing firmly between her legs over her jeans. She moaned against his lips and when he rubbed at the denim covering her crotch again, she detached their mouths to lean back and frantically undo her jeans. Stiles watched her with a dazed look for a few seconds before he moved to assist her, hooking his thumbs into her belt loops and tugging her jeans down over her ass.

"I- Fuck, just- Hold on-" She muttered, climbing off his lap to pull her jeans off entirely and throw them into the backseat with a frustrated huff.

As soon as she returned to his lap in her underwear, his hands settled back underneath her ass without prompting. The long length of his fingers squeezed at the exposed flesh and she groaned, leaning down to kiss him deeply again with her hands at his neck.

After only a minute, Stiles' hand found it's way between them again and his fingers skimmed lightly over the front of her underwear. Their mouths separated as he peeked down between them, hesitating as he debated how to approach things from a new angle.

"Don't second guess yourself, okay?" She whispered against his lips, "I'm pretty sure that you severely underestimate how much literally everything that you do turns me on."

"Yeah?" He questioned, fingers easing down between her thighs to press softly into her entrance through her underwear.

"Uh-huh." She whined with a nod, eyes drifting shut and fingers tightening around the back of his neck.

He tilted his chin back up to kiss her as his fingers hooked around the fabric between her thighs, one of his long digits slipping inside of her in a slow movement. She groaned into his mouth and ground down against his hand weakly, pushing his finger deeper. He thrust in and out only a few times before easily sliding a second finger in alongside the first, earning a quiet whine from the girl above him. He thrust his fingers in and out again with deep movements, her hips rolling down to meet each thrust.

Hands trailing down his chest again, she let the fingers of her right hand dip beneath his elastic waistband to rub lightly at the hidden patch of hair that trailed underneath. Stiles groaned into her mouth, hips bucking up into her touch and his fingers stilling inside of her distractedly for a second.

She fumbled unseeingly with the button on his jeans single-handedly but managed to get it undone, tugging the zipper down to give her more space to work with. Their mouths continued the hot rhythm of give and take and she finally followed the trail of dark hairs beneath his underwear until she could wrap a hand around his erection.

A loud groan erupted from Stiles' throat and her stomach flipped at the sound. She tightened her left hand around the back of his neck, fingertips pressing into his skin as she dropped her forehead against his to break the kiss.

"Off," She demanded vaguely, her hand making a retreat from beneath his pants. Stiles made a small noise of objection into the space between their lips before she continued, "Your pants. Underwear. Off."

"Yeah," He agreed quickly. He pulled his fingers from between her legs and began frantically working to help her shove his jeans down his hips as he toed his shoes off. "Yeah, okay. Taking them off-"

She rolled off of his lap as he clumsily stripped out of his remaining clothes, hunching forward while he kicked and pulled his pants from his legs completely before sliding his boxers off as well.

Once he was naked, he didn't give her even a second to look down at him in the dark car before his mouth found hers again in a heated kiss. She allowed him to control the pace for a long minute, her hands cautiously groping his naked hips until she couldn't wait any longer. She dragged her mouth from his and she pushed him away just enough that she could peer down into the space between them.

She stared for a long moment, transfixed with a confusing mix of arousal and fear as she looked at his dick for the first time. He was nearly fully hard already and she couldn't help the quiet noise that squeaked from her throat at the sight of him. Long and thick and flushed with arousal — so much nicer than anything she'd ever seen in amateur porn.

She shifted back to get a better look and her teeth caught her lower lip distractedly, eyes unable to focus on anything but the long length of Stiles' cock.

"God. Y're so hot." He said quietly, reaching out in the short space between them to slowly free her lip from between her teeth with his thumb.

Their lips met again frantically. He licked into her mouth without preamble and they both groaned at the hunger in the kiss. It was only a minute before she pulled back again, her eyes drawn back to where his hard cock bobbed untouched between them.

She shook her head, attempting to sort through her thoughts before any words could spill out of her mouth. She finally brought her eyes back up to his face, but the words that tumbled from her lips after a moment still managed to be wholly unfiltered.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

Stiles dropped his hand from her face and frowned as he looked down self-consciously, "What's wrong?"

"I- Sti, you're huge. Like really, really-" She whispered nervously, eyes flicking between his slowly before dropping down to his erection again for just a second. When she looked back up, she watched an embarrassed flush rise on his cheeks and she swallowed before speaking again, "I just. I've never.. I mean, you are a lot bigger than what's currently stowed away in my underwear drawer and I don't know if I-"

"Wh- We don't have to-" He paused, eyes flicking between her panicked ones quickly, "We're not having sex right now.." He told her quickly before seeming to hesitate with wide eyes, "W- Are we?"

She looked at him in stunned silence for a second, "Oh. I just assumed you-" She took a shaky breath, "Okay. No, yeah, okay, that's kind of a relief."

"Hell. You just- You looked at it and then you-" Stiles breathed out harshly, "I-I thought something was wrong with-"

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with your dick." She interrupted quickly. Her hand twitched at her side and her eyes bounced between his nervously, "Can I-"

"Yes." He interrupted with wide, pleading eyes.

She shifted beside him in the seat and took his right hand in her left one as she slowly wrapped her right around his length once again and Stiles made a choked-off noise, leaning closer and bracing himself with a hand on the steering wheel. She tightened her grip and jerked her hand back and forth in slow motions, watching the way his face seemed to both tighten and go slack at the same time.

"Is this okay?" She checked quietly after a few pulls, continuing to jerk him slowly.

"Uh huh," He articulated with a nod, "Okay. Very, very okay."

"Okay." She whispered.

Her hazel eyes trailed back and forth between his brown ones slowly until he released another small noise and pinched his eyes shut. Her heart was pounding nervously in her ears as she focused determinedly on the movement of her hand around him.

As if he could feel her attentive gaze, Stiles' eyes blinked open slowly as he lifted his head to look at the girl in front of him. She pulled her lower lip back into her mouth anxiously at him watching her and he groaned, leaning forward to capture her lips with his own in a quick motion.

A soft sound escaped her mouth and she moved a hand to cup the side of his face, pulling his mouth against hers more firmly. She readjusted, throwing a leg over him to straddle his left thigh. Stiles made a sharp noise when the tip of his cock nudged against her stomach on the upstroke, his mouth falling open against hers as his jaw slackened in pleasure.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever felt so nervous, turned on, and frantic all at once before.

"C'you, uh, maybe-" His words were choked as he pulled her hand from his cock and brought it up between them, "Just, um, spit?"

"In my hand?" She questioned.

He nodded, cheeks managing to flush further with the request and she wasted no time in following the order, spitting into the palm of her hand before returning it to his length and resuming her movements.

Her hand slipped along his cock more smoothly with the added lubrication and drew a weak sound from his throat. The head of his cock prodded against her waist again lightly on the upstroke and his moan melted into an even more desperate noise.

"Gotta. Back. Lay back." Stiles pleaded against her lips, pushing on her shoulder to guide her back just enough that he could begin to change their position.

She didn't slow her hand as he attempted to guide her back to lay across the seats but she determinedly forced him to stay upright in the cab of the vehicle. Taking in a nervous breath, she gave him a demanding nudge, her free hand pressing into his chest firmly as she pushed him to sit back on the passenger side of the car.

The moment he complied, she dropped to her knees in the narrow space on the floor between his legs. Stiles looked down at her in awe as her own gaze lowered back to the slow slide of her hand over his cock. She flipped her hand, adjusting her grip and licking her lips in nervous anticipation.

"Okay, so I- Do you mind if I-?" She left the question hanging in the air, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Sure," He agreed immediately, "Wha'd'you-"

His words cut off sharply when she licked softly at his tip, having already leaned forward determinedly at his initial approval.

"Jesus, fucking-" Stiles exclaimed quietly, head thumping back against the seat and hand shooting out to grip at her shoulder in a frantic motion.

She slowly took the head between her lips and into her mouth. She eased down cautiously until she could suck lightly at just the first couple inches, continuing the motions of her hand over the parts her mouth didn't reach. She pulled back off to lick the length of his cock again and ran her tongue in a slow drag from the base to the tip before wrapping her lips around the end once more.

The next time she eased back to lick at the head, her mouth watered at the taste of Stiles' precome that began to coat her tongue.

Not entirely confident in how she was doing after thirty or so seconds of simply replicating what she'd seen in porn, she peered up to find Stiles already watching her with rapt attention, his mouth hanging slightly open as he pulled in choppy breaths. When she took the end back into her mouth again, her gaze caught on the tight fist that he was making with the hand not currently gripping at her shoulder, his knuckles pinched white.

"Amber, I-" He cut off with a quiet groan, "'m not gonna last very- Your mouth.. Is-"

She hummed in acknowledgment due to her mouth being otherwise occupied and he moaned loudly, his whole body twitching at the vibration that the noise made around his dick. His fingertips dug into her skin as his grip tightened unconsciously around her shoulder.

She pushed her mouth down another fraction of an inch, the head of his dick rubbing softly along the roof of her mouth as she experimentally eased her mouth a tiny bit farther down the length of him. His hips twitched suddenly in an upward thrust and the head of his cock prodded at the back of her throat, causing her to gag and pull back with a quiet cough.

"Sorry," Stiles apologized quickly, "Shit. Sorry. 'm so sorry-"

"'s okay." She assured him quickly, already leaning into the space between his thighs again.

She took a small breath in through her nose before determinedly sliding him into her mouth again. This time, when she pushed the first few inches in her mouth, she allowed the tip to softly nudge the back of her throat. She took a deep breath through her nose and fought determinedly against the instinct to gag.

Stiles moaned loudly and she reached her free hand up from where it had been resting on the leather seat beside him and nudged at his knuckles until he loosened his fist. She tangled their fingers together as she moved her mouth up and down the end of his shaft, letting the tip hit the back of her throat gently a couple of times and continuing to work her other hand along the base of his long length. His fingers tightened around hers almost painfully as he fought to remain still while she sucked and bobbed her head.

"You sh- You should-" Stiles slid the hand on her shoulder to fist into her hair and gently tugged her mouth off of him, "'Cause I'm-" He finished eloquently.

She nodded and allowed herself to be guided back, his fingers remaining clenched in the hair at the back of her head even after she'd pulled away.

In the absence of her mouth, she slid her fist lower along his length to collect some of the spit that now coated the end, jerking him using the newly acquired lubrication in a smooth glide.

Stiles moaned loudly at the slick feeling of her hand working him as she continued. It was only a couple more strokes of her hand before his fingers tightened in her hair and he tensed with a loud moan, warm come shooting out onto the center of her chest.

She watched his face as she worked him through it, her gaze avidly glued to his slack jaw, the way his eyes pinched shut tightly, the dark flush of his orgasm on his cheeks.

She couldn't help the curiosity that had her leaning back in-between his legs after a moment to taste the come-soaked tip. A surprised noise left his mouth as she sucked softly at the head of his cock. His thighs were still trembling against the seat and she pulled her left hand from his grip to run her fingertips gently along his waist in a soothing motion.

When Stiles finally released her hair and nudged her arm weakly a few seconds later, she leaned back to lift her gaze to his face again. She let her hand fall from his dick and watched as he took a shaky breath, looking down at her with red-flushed cheeks before his focus seemed to pause on her chest.

He released a slightly pained noise and she followed his gaze self-consciously, her own eyes locking on the long stripes of come that had already begun to drip down in a shiny trail between the valley of her breasts and down the center of her stomach.

She wiped at the bottom of the mess in a weak attempt to clean herself but only succeeded in getting the fingers of her right hand covered in come as well. She had collected a small amount of the mess onto her fingers and she looked up at Stiles for assistance.

"What should I- Do you have a-"

He simply stared at her in a daze for a moment as she spoke, his jaw slack, before he blinked and jumped into action, leaning around her to dig through the glove box and returning seconds later with a couple of napkins.

He immediately pulled her up by her forearms and she straddled his lap, settling over his thighs easily. Stiles spread a hand over her thigh and used the other to wipe gently at the long stripes of his release, starting at her belly button and following the trail up to her chest. His fingers slowed as he wiped her cleavage clean, his touch more deliberate as he brought the napkin over the softness of her breasts and beneath the band of her bra.

She found her heart fluttering in her chest at the gentleness of his touch, her eyes glued to his face as he focused intently his task. He continued to clean her with a shaking hand and once he was finished, he grabbed the second napkin and took her hand into his own, carefully clearing away the residue from her fingers.

Once he was done, Stiles sat back and took a deep breath before speaking.

"That was-" He finally panted, "I- You-"

An awkward blush colored her cheeks. She couldn't comprehend how it was possible to suddenly feel so unbelievably nervous after having had someone's dick in your mouth for three minutes, but that was precisely where she found herself.

"Was it okay?" She asked seriously, leaning back until her back rested against the dashboard, "Obviously I've never given a blowjob before, so. I know I couldn't, like, take all of it because, well- I mean, you're-"

Her words cut off when his gripped roughly at her biceps and manhandled her in the close quarters of the vehicle. She landed on her butt in the opposite seat with a small huff, the breath whooshing from her lungs as she fell back against the driver's side door.

Stiles was on top of her before she could blink.

"Wha-" Her words were cut off once again, this time by his mouth descending on hers.

"That was.. Amazing. Phenomenal. Easily the single greatest experience of my entire life." Stiles praised against her lips between quick, sloppy kisses before sealing his mouth with hers again.

His tongue broke through the seam of her lips almost immediately and she tilted her head in acceptance, feeling him groan into her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingertips of one hand digging into his shoulder while the other scratched gently at the short buzzed hair at the base of his neck.

After a minute, he pulled back just enough to take a much needed breath, nose dragging softly against hers as his gaze flicked between her eyes.

"You taste kinda like-" He paused for a fraction of a second, "Like come. A little bit."

She flushed at the comment, "Sorry."

Stiles blinked at her in confusion, rising up onto his arms to put another few inches of distance between their faces, "Are you.. Apologizing for sucking my dick right now?"

"Well I- You said-"

"Oh god. I wasn't complaining." Stiles told her earnestly.

"Oh, okay," She felt relief wash over her, "Good, because I really wanna-" She completed the thought nonverbally by drawing his lips back down to hers roughly.

The kiss was returned with enthusiasm and Stiles leaned over her, holding himself up with his left arm propped up on the back of the seat and his other on the door behind her.

Though she couldn't see it from their close proximity, his naked body on top of her had her brain fuzzy with arousal. Her legs fell open unthinkingly and when Stiles readjusted to settle into the space, his dick pressed intoxicatingly against the skin of her thigh.

Stiles trailed his mouth across her cheek and down under her jaw, her head tipping back against the window easily to give him access to her throat. He took to the invitation quickly and sucked featherlight at the skin below her jawline, moving lower in a line of gentle kisses until he was at her collarbones. He nibbled at the skin, just light enough to not leave any marks. He continued on quickly, lips dragging lower still until his mouth found her breast.

She hummed, hand around the back of his neck tightening, as he mouthed at the softness of her bra-clad chest in a series of open mouthed kisses, tongue poking out through the seam of his lips to brush against her skin. He tugged the thin fabric down to wrap his lips around her nipple in a soft suck and she gasped, spine arching away from where she was pressed back the door.

At her vocal approval, Stiles moved his mouth over to her other breast and repeated the series of motions. Her bra straps were tugged down her shoulders as he kissed and sucked and bit lightly at her chest, his large hands coming up to softly squeeze at whatever flesh his mouth wasn't focused on.

Stiles leaned back after a few minutes and she took a shaky breath, lifting her head from the window to look down at him, stunned by the pause in his barrage of kisses.

"Can I- Is it okay if I return the favor?" He asked quietly, tongue darting out to lick at his already spit soaked lips.

"Uh-huh, yeah. Yes." She nodded quickly.

She watched him slide further down the seat between her knees, her heart stuttering nervously in her chest as her arms fell away from his neck.

Hands trailed down her sides and his lips pressed softly into the small, three week old slice of pink scar tissue over her abdomen seemingly without thought. As he leaned back, his fingers tucked into the waistband on either side of her hips and tugged her underwear away, tossing them to the dashboard beside the abandoned bouquet of flowers before he continued lower.

She was taken by a sudden flash of a memory. Just a quick burst in her head to the distant memory of Stiles between her thighs that she'd dreamt up over two months ago. With a blink, the image was in front of her, clearer than ever as he settled down between her legs with an anxious wide-eyed look on his face.

At the sight of his nerves, she was about to reassure him that it was okay, that he didn't need to return that favor, but just as soon as she opened her mouth to say the words, Stiles dropped down to lick at her experimentally and her head lolled back against the metal frame of the Jeep's door with a loud thump.

Her legs fell open further and he took the invitation in kind, moving the warm wetness of his tongue softly over her newly-exposed clit. She gasped out a high pitched noise at the warm caress over the sensitive nerves and he immediately licked over the same spot again in a slower, more sure motion.

"Holy shit, Stiles-" She moaned quietly, gasping when he continued to move his tongue softly over the sensitive bud, "This- This is so much better-" She had to break off to suck in a shaky breath as her thighs jerked around his shoulders, "S'much better than it is in my dream-"

The motion of his tongue stopped as he pulled back and she whined in protest at the loss of contact.

"'M sorry, can we back up-"

"No," She objected quickly, "No, no. We cannot back up-" Her head lifted from the window frame and she looked down at him in wide-eyed distress, "I-I don't remember taking your dick out of my mouth to.. To talk-"

"You have dreams about being eaten out?" Stiles asked quickly in interest, ignoring her protests, "Because that is.. That is so hot. You-You have sex dreams where just, like- Someone's tongue-"

"You're tongue, Stiles." She corrected in a huff, "I've had numerous, painfully repetitive dreams about your tongue so please, I am actually begging you-"

He ducked back down in a surprisingly fast motion, but instead of focusing on her clit, he gripped her thighs and spread her legs further, delving lower this time, his tongue licking into her in an agonizingly gentle motion. A choked off whine sounded in her throat and he repeated the movement, pushing further until the muscle actually poked past her entrance.

She scrambled to reach down, desperate for some sort of tether to him, and gripped tightly at the muscles of his upper back. He shimmied his right shoulder further beneath her left knee and she spread her thighs for him that much more, calf draped over his bicep just as his tongue began to lick deeper inside of her with purpose.

"Oh, god-" She gasped, throwing her head back against the window with another painful thump as she scraped her fingertips lightly over his shoulders and neck.

Stiles wrapped his arms around the backs of her thighs and dug his fingers into her flesh, gripping tightly as he worked his tongue in and out. He alternated between pushing in as deep as he could reach and then licking shallowly at her entrance before delving back in again.

He fucked her with his tongue for several long minutes, maybe ten, maybe thirty, it was hard to tell when her brain was so hazy with arousal. Her throat felt dry from the heavy, slack-jawed breaths she'd been pulling in between soft moans of pleasure as he worked his tongue inside of her.

"Stiles," She called out in a breathless whisper feeling truly desperate, "C'you, fingers-? Please?" She begged inarticulately.

The warmth of his mouth pulled away and two of his fingers immediately pressed against her entrance, pushing inside in a gentle motion that had her moaning loudly. The thick firmness of his fingers after the softness of his tongue was incredible. He curled his fingers up immediately to massage at the sensitive spot she'd instructed him toward before and another high gasp left her mouth at the feeling.

As soon as his fingers settled into a rhythm, he lowered his head to lick at her clit again. The combination of his mouth and his fingers had an embarrassing stream of moans rushing past her lips. Her own fingers scraped against his shoulders as she scrambled for some control under the all-encompassing pleasure.

"God-" She moaned softly, voice cracking as his lips closed around her clit entirely, sucking lightly before he continued to roll his tongue over the bundle of nerves, "Stiles-"

Her hips were starting to grind up against him unconsciously as she neared her peak, his name slipping past her lips in a constant stream of quiet, high-pitched pleas.

"Sti, 'm.. Stiles-"

He straightened his fingers out inside of her without prompt and began to thrust them in and out experimentally. She finally managed to pull in a deep albeit shaky breath with the change of pace, but the reprieve was short lived as Stiles studied her reaction and immediately changed tactics, attentively and earnestly trying to learn what made her tick, moan, writhe.

The air she'd only just pulled in was knocked back from her lungs when his fingers curled again but continued the hard in and out movement of his fingers. His hooked fingertips caught against the bundle of nerves behind her pelvis with each thrust and on each slightly rough press of the pads of his fingers against the sensitive spot, she was dragged down just slightly toward him, her ass sliding along the worn leather of the seat and incidentally pressing his tongue more firmly against her clit.

His name spilled past her lips in weak gasps as her fingers dug into his shoulders, shaking thighs straining against the grip of his free hand, and suddenly her whole body was tightening with her release.

The only thing she was aware of was the slow waves of warm white fog in her brain through panted breaths as he continued to wring her climax out of her with his fingers and mouth.

An indeterminate amount of time passed before her vision settled back into a semi-clear image as she looked up at the roof of the Jeep above her. Thighs trembling, she smacked her lips quietly at the dryness in her mouth from her moans, reaching down to unseeingly swat at Stiles where he was still tonguing at her gently with unmoving fingers.

He pulled back in response to the soft slap of her hands against his shoulders and face. Instead of immediately crawling back up her body like she'd anticipated, Stiles moved in a slow trail back up toward her. Soft kisses were pressed along the inside of her thigh, and then her stomach, trailing up along her ribs, her chest, the valley between her breasts. He tugged her bra straps back up over her shoulders as his lips dragged up slowly across her sternum and collar bones. He pressed a gentle line of kisses into the curve of her neck. There was just one soft press of his mouth against her jawbone before finally he paused, lips stopping to hover just above hers.

Her heart was still pounding loudly in her ears from her orgasm, brain feeling pleasantly mushy from a culmination of both her climax and the gentleness of his kisses as he'd moved up along her body. She found herself looking between his deep brown eyes for a slow moment, her gaze drifting across the long line of his eyebrows and his sharp cheekbones before settling on his swollen lips.

"God." She said softly, reaching up to drag his mouth down against hers desperately.

Her fingertips rubbed softly through the smooth, close-cropped hair at the back of his head and her tongue broke through the seam of his lips with a sense of urgency. She finally understood what he'd been talking about before when she absently realized that she could taste herself on his mouth.

"That was amazing." She murmured against his lips when she finally pulled back just a fraction, "Phenomenal, even. Quite possibly the greatest experience of my life." She returned his earlier sentiment.

He grinned and pecked her lips as he blindly reached out to feel around for his boxers. He located them on the floor and pulled back to tug them on before snatching her panties from the dashboard, turning to hand them to her with an unbearably soft look.

She thanked him quietly and pulled them on before leaning into the backseat to snatch his discarded flannel and tug it onto her own body, clumsily doing up a couple of the buttons. When she settled back in the front with her jeans in hand, Stiles had already managed to get his pants on and was just finishing pulling his shirt down over his chest.

She quickly finished getting re-dressed and spotted the abandoned package of gummy worms on the floor beside the gear shift. Grabbing the bag, she dug around in search of one of the red and blue candies. Upon locating one, she held it out in front of Stiles' face wordlessly and grinned when he automatically opened his mouth to accept the offering.

"Hey, um. I kind of wanted to ask you something." Stiles said after a moment as he swallowed the candy, voice quiet.

She frowned, pulling her legs up onto the seat underneath her and turning to face him, "Yeah, of course. What is it?"

She watched his long fingers rub along the steering wheel while he took a nervous breath.

"I just- I wanted to ask if you'd be my girlfriend?" His eyes didn't flick up to look at her until the question hung between them.

"I kinda thought I already was." She admitted, smiling admiringly at the boy in front of her.

"Oh," Stiles gaped, "Okay! Cool. Sweet."

"But, just to be very clear.. Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend, Stiles." She leaned across the car to kiss the sour sugar from his lips before slipping underneath his arm, settling into his side and picking out a candy for herself, "Did you do all of this because you were planning on asking me to be your girlfriend?" She asked, gesturing around them with her gummy worm.

"Yeah," He admitted sheepishly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck and tightening his other arm around her shoulders, "I was supposed to get your attention with the pebbles and then ask as soon as you opened your window. And- and then I told myself I'd definitely do it by the time you were finished with your milkshake. And then I swore that I'd ask when we got to the lookout-"

"It doesn't matter how many times you didn't ask me, it just matters that you did," She told him gently, "And I said yes, and now we're boyfriend and girlfriend and we're both, y'know, aware of it."

"Yeah," He agreed, reaching into the package in her hands to pull out another couple pieces of candy for himself, "Yeah, you're absolutely right."

Amber chewed happily on a gummy worm and tipped her head back against the leather seats to stare at her boyfriend.

"Thank you." She told him after a quiet moment.

"For what?" He asked in confusion through a mouthful of candy.

"For being sweet, and adorable, and romantic, and stupidly perfect despite everything that's going on." She explained.

He blinked and shrugged in an attempt to hide the blush that colored his cheeks in response to her words.

"Anytime, babe." He choked out after a moment as he swallowed the candy in his mouth, a pleased smile pulling at his lips.

The next morning, Amber skipped up to Lydia's locker with a wide grin, feeling on top of the world. She leaned against the locker beside her friend and gave the strawberry blonde a dopey smile as she watched Lydia pull books from her bag and tuck them away.

Lydia's eyes shifted to Amber and she merely blinked at her once in silent irritation before looking back into her locker.

"I have so much to tell you-" Amber said in a daze, pulling at her backpack straps and dropping her head against the locker she was bracing herself on.

"Do you?" Lydia questioned indifferently, "That sounds like something friends do. I wasn't sure if we still were friends considering you haven't texted me back in two days-"

"Oh. Yeah, I think I dropped my phone at the lacrosse game and I haven't been able to find it." Amber explained apologetically, "I'm gonna ask Coach if he's seen it later on, but that is so not what I wanna talk to you about right now."

Lydia seemed to accept her excuse and finally turned to give her friend her full attention, "Fine, what's up?"

She sighed gratefully, "So, Stiles picked me up last night, right? Totally out of the blue. And he was being so romantic and sweet.. We drove out to the lookout and-"

Lydia's locker slammed shut and Amber flinched in surprise.

"Are you telling me that you punched your v-card last night?" Lydia asked in excitement.

"No!" She denied immediately, "No.. I mean, I thought maybe we might but he said we didn't have to and, honestly, I was kinda relieved because I'm not sure if I'm ready t-"

"Well if you didn't have mind-blowing car sex then why on earth do you have that stupidly sexed-up look on your face?" Lydia questioned, smacking her fingertips against Amber's forehead playfully to emphasize her words.

"Oral." Amber said simply as a dopey smile pulled at her lips again.

"Giving or receiving?" Lydia followed up quickly.

"Both," Amber sighed happily, "And it was.. So good. Like, so good. I swear to god his mouth is-"

"Did you ask him to do it?" Lydia questioned curiously.

She shook her head, "No, he offered."

"Huh," Lydia's eyebrows raised as if she were slightly impressed before shaking her head, "How was his you-know-what? Was it average? Small? Uncut?" She asked the last one with a wince and Amber laughed.

"Nope."

"No to what?" Lydia frowned.

"No to all of them." Amber grinned when Lydia's face morphed into surprise, "Seriously. I- I never thought I would think a dick is pretty, but good god, Lyds-"

"It wasn't small or average?" Lydia asked in confusion.

"I know I'm not exactly an expert on the matter but.. No."

Lydia shook her head in disbelief, "So, Stilinski is packing.. And he goes down willingly? Who would've thought."

The first bell signaling only five minutes until classes started rang out in the hall with a loud trill as Amber nodded at her friend.

"He's perfect." She sighed contentedly.

Lydia rolled her eyes and patted the brunette on her shoulder as she moved past her, "Congrats, hon."

The redhead left to get to first period and Amber pushed off of the lockers to make her way to her own class.

As she walked into the English classroom, she slid into her usual empty desk. She pulled her class-issued paperback and her notebook out of her bag and dug around in search of a writing utensil. Finally managing to locate one at the bottom of her bag, Amber pulled it out in a quick movement and it slipped from her fingers to roll down the row between desks before stopping just beyond the desk in front of her.

The boot-clad foot of the boy sitting ahead of her in the next row kicked out and rolled the pencil closer before he bent over to pick it up and turned around in his seat.

"Isaac!" Amber exclaimed in surprise, looking around the classroom in slow confusion, "Wait, you- You're back in school? And, like, no longer in hiding?"

Isaac handed over her pencil, "Jackson decided to recant his statement to the police."

"Did he now?" Amber asked curiously, "That seems uncharacteristically helpful of him. How come?"

Isaac shrugged noncommittally in response.

"Okay, well, cool." Amber told him, "Congrats, I guess. Welcome back to the joys of high school."

"Thanks." Isaac smirked before turning back around in his seat.

It was only another minute before Scott dropped into the seat across the aisle from her. The boy sat down, pulling out his books and spreading them across his desktop before looking up. His gaze focused on Amber for only a second before his attention seemed to snap over to where Isaac was sitting in front of him, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"What's he doing here?" Scott hissed at her across the aisle, his voice loud enough that it was borderline amusing, a harsh whisper that Isaac had to have been able to hear clearly from just a foot away.

She sat up in her seat, eager to fill her friend in, "Oh! So apparently-"

Stiles suddenly stumbled into the English classroom in a mess of flailing limbs. He dropped into the empty seat behind Amber and she peeked back at him with a frown, regarding her boyfriend's haste with curiosity.

"I just talked to my dad, who just talked to Jackson, and I've got really terrible, horrible, very, very bad news-" Stiles whispered frantically.

"I think we already know." Scott mumbled in response, nodding toward the seat in front of him.

The girl's brows furrowed as she too looked at the side of Isaac's head, unable to piece together whatever problem the other two were seeing with the innocent werewolf being back at school. She turned toward her friends again as Stiles leaned back into his seat with a nervous look.

"What-" She started, only to be cut off by Mr. Anderson's booming voice from the front of the room as he began his lecture, "Nevermind."

As soon as class was dismissed by the bell, Amber shot up from her seat to approach Scott and Stiles as the three of them rushed from the classroom and spilled out into the hallway.

Stiles adjusted his backpack strap on his shoulder and took Amber's own bag from her hands before she could pull it on herself. He tugged the strap over that of his own bookbag on his shoulder and dropped his free arm to curl around the back of her neck.

Her mouth dropped open to comment on his endearing display of chivalry but he spoke before she got the chance, his own gaze locked on Scott.

"Alright," Stiles started slowly, "So I only found one thing online called a Kanima. It's a werejaguar from South America that goes after murderers."

"That thing running around is not a jaguar." Amber stated obviously, slipping her hand around Stiles' waist as they walked.

"Yeah, obviously. And you and I aren't exactly murderers." Stiles emphasized.

Scott frowned in thought, "Yeah, but you guys did see it kill somebody.. Which is probably why it tried to kill you," He added quickly before continuing, "And it's still trying to kill you.. And it probably won't stop until you're both dead-"

Stiles pulled Amber to a stop and they both glared at the back of Scott's head. Scott continued a few steps down the hallway distractedly before he noticed their absence beside him. He turned around to face them and Stiles' glare only intensified.

Stiles dropped his arm from her shoulder with a huff to gesture with his hands wildly as he spoke, "Y'know, sometimes I really begin to question our 'friendship'."

"Come on," Amber shook her head and moved behind Stiles to grab his hips, urging him forward with her own body glued to his back. She pushed until they'd caught up to Scott again and then released her boyfriend to pinch the soft flesh of Scott's hip between her fingers as she stepped beside him, "You need to work on that brain-to-mouth filter of yours."

Scott frowned and reached up to rub at his side, "Ow."

"Oh, did that hurt the big bad werewolf?" Stiles scoffed, "You poor thing."

They moved through the hallways and headed to Economics where Amber threw her things down into the empty desk behind Stiles as Scott dropped into the chair beside him.

The girl pulled out her notes and a pencil, beginning to flip through her textbook to get ready for the start of class. Her left arm draped across her desk so that her fingertips could toy idly with the collar at the back of Stiles' shirt as she skimmed over the section she'd read the previous evening. There was a loud slam as Jackson dropped down into the desk beside her, smacking his books onto the tabletop and forcing her gaze to cut over to him in surprise.

"Hey. Taint and testicles left and right." Jackson hissed quietly, looking between the three of them. Stiles and Scott both snapped their heads up but refused to turn around and Amber rolled her eyes at the boy beside her just before he spoke again, "What the hell is a kanima?"

Amber's eyes widened in surprise and her friends both turned around in their seats in a flash. Before any of them could speak, Coach Finstock slapped a folder down onto the mess on his desk with a loud smack to garner everybody's attention.

"Alright everyone! Listen up. A quick warning before we begin our review," The teacher said loudly, "Some of you, like McCall, might want to start their own study groups.. Because tomorrow's mid-term is so profoundly difficult.. I-I'm not even sure I could pass it."

Amber let out a breath of despair in time with her classmate's groans and wordlessly held her notebook out across the aisle. Scott reached out automatically to accept it and flipped it open it over the top of his textbook so that he could copy some of her notes down for himself.

"Okay! I need a volunteer to come up to the board and answer the first question!" Coach demanded, grabbing a piece of chalk and looking out at the class expectantly. "Who's got it? Huh?"

Finstock called on a boy from the opposite side of the room and Jackson pitched forward in his seat again at the moment of distraction, "I just heard Derek's little pets talking in the hallway. Something about a kanima and Lydia and-"

"What exactly were they saying?" Amber was quick to ask.

"Look. Could someone just tell me why the hell Derek and his band of freaks kidnapped and tested me last night? Why they thought I was this thing called a kanima? Huh?" Jackson demanded as he looked between the three of them.

"What? Why would he think it's you?" She asked in confusion.

"He spouted some crap about a snake not being poisoned by its own venom and forced this absolutely vile slime into my mouth and I was paralyzed." Jackson recounted in a hiss, "Paralyzed. From the neck down. Do you have any idea what that feels like?" He snapped rhetorically.

"Uh, yeah, kinda." She muttered bitterly, tapping her pencil eraser against the top of her desk restlessly.

Stiles turned in his seat and instinctively wrapped his hand around Amber's fidgeting one as he glared at Jackson, "We're familiar with the sensation."

"Wait, back up-" Scott turned in confusion, "Seriously, why would Derek test you? Why would he think that it's you?"

"How should I know?" Jackson shot back.

"Wait, wait, wait," Amber whispered frantically, leaning out further into the aisle to hiss another question at Jackson, "Do they think it's Lydia?"

He shrugged with indifference, "I don't know. All I heard was her name and something about Chemistry-"

"Jackson! Callisto!" Coach yelled suddenly. All four teens flinched and Stiles and Scott spin back around in their seats again to face the front of the room as their teacher continued, "Do either of you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?"

"Um.." Jackson said slowly, drawing out the word as his eyes met Amber's across the aisle.

"We were just.. Discussing our, um, undying admiration for our favorite teacher and coach.." She said slowly, heart still pounding with adrenaline at being called out.

"That's really kind of you," Coach smiled, insincerity bleeding out from beneath his expression as he looked between them, "Now shut up! Shut it!" He yelled before turning back to the rest of the class in search of another volunteer to answer a review question up at the board.

The moment their teacher turned around, Scott reached over to grab ahold of Stiles' sweatshirt and Amber's wrist, yanking them both toward him with a little too much force. Amber's ribs smacked down against her desk painfully as she pitched forward while Stiles nearly fell out of his seat and into the aisle.

"How do we know it's not Lydia?" Scott whispered quietly, oblivious to the matching winces from his best friends in response to his display of strength.

"Because. We've looked into the eyes of that thing, okay? And what we saw was pure evil." Stiles explained, turning to look at Amber's frowning face for a second before continuing, "And, y'know, when I look into Lydia's eyes, I only see like 50% evil."

Amber slapped him on the back of his head aggressively and he flinched, turning to shoot her an irritated look before returning his attention to Scott.

"Honestly, maybe 60%," He amended in retaliation, easily catching Amber's wrist when she reached out to smack him again. Stiles sighed and refused to release her arm as he continued, "But, y'know, no more than 40 on a good day." He added reassuringly in a weak attempt to appease the girl behind him.

"Stiles!" Amber hissed, entirely unpacified as she kicked a foot out to thump against the bottom of his chair.

"Yeah.. Dude, that's not a very good argument." Scott pointed out quietly.

"I swear it's not her," Amber cut in, "It- It can't be, alright? Lydia's.. Lydia's fine." She said weakly, her mind spiraling with the long list of issues regarding her friend's current mental state.

The words hung in the air for not twenty seconds before the redhead in question let out a soft cry from the front of the room where she had been answering a question on the blackboard. Amber looked up to find Lydia no longer facing the board, though she still held chalk in a tight grasp between her fingers as tears ran down her face.

Amber's heart dropped. "Lyds?" She called out softly, dropping her pencil down on her desk.

"Lydia?" Coach Finstock questioned in confusion as he moved toward the board, "Lydia?" He said again — louder this time.

Lydia merely whimpered, eyes still pinched shut. Another stream of tears trailed down her cheeks, pulling mascara from her lashes as they fell and leaving tiny black smudges along her face in their wake.

Amber pushed out of her seat and Stiles finally dropped his hold on her wrist as she hurried down the row toward the front of the room.

"Lydia?" She stepped in front of her friend to block her off from as many of their classmates' curious stares as she could before calling out again more firmly, "Lydia!"

Lydia's eyes snapped open and they cut sharply around her in surprise and confusion.

"Okay, then.." Coach said loudly, turning back toward the class, "Anyone else want to try answering? This time in English?" He joked.

Lydia spun around in a flash and she and Amber both blinked in confusion at what the redhead had written on the board in her daze. It was English. But the letters had all been written backwards, the words mirrored and jumbled together curiously.

SOMEONEHELPME

Amber was spiraling.

Her heart had felt on the verge of beating out of her chest for the last hour and a half and she was beginning to genuinely worry about what kind of an effect the stress might have on her body long term.

"God, what if it is Lydia?" She whined, "It's not, right? I- I don't- And Derek won't actually kill her, will he? He wouldn't, right? I mean, he couldn't have meant that-"

Stiles had his fingers locked tightly with hers and Scott dropped a hand over the back of her neck to give her a reassuring squeeze as they stepped into the classroom for their weekly Chemistry Lab.

"Derek's not gonna kill her without proof." Scott attempted to reassure her.

"Alright. So, then, he tests her like he did with Jackson, right?" Stiles reasoned.

"But where?" Amber questioned, "When?"

Scott sighed as he looked around the classroom in search of empty seats, his eyes widening as Erica and Isaac stepped through the door at the opposite end of the room.

"I think here and now." He realized suddenly.

Their gazes all flicked over to the empty lab chair beside Lydia in a panic.

Isaac and Erica began to determinedly make their way down the row between tables and the three friends jumped into action. Amber sprinted to claim the seat beside Lydia, Scott sat at the table just behind them, and Stiles simply pulled an extra chair from the side of the room to settle in at the corner on Lydia's other side, even though the table was only meant to seat two.

Amber sighed in relief and gave Lydia a weak smile when the other girl looked between her and Stiles in confusion. Stiles grinned awkwardly at the redhead in greeting and she returned her gaze to Amber with a slow blink to convey her annoyance.

As the room filled, Mr. Harris stood from his desk to address the class, "Einstein once said, 'Two things are infinite: The universe and human stupidity.'" He recited, "And I'm not sure about the universe, but I, myself have encountered.. Infinite stupidity."

As if emphasizing his words, the teacher dropped a hand heavily onto Stiles' shoulder as he stepped up to their table. Mr. Harris thumped his hand against the boy's back with enough force that Stiles' body rocked forward with each pat as his face pinched in irritation.

"So," Mr. Harris continued, "To combat the plague of ignorance in my class, you're going to combine efforts through a round of group experiments. Let's see if two heads are indeed better than one." His gaze dropped to Stiles again with a frown of distaste and Amber's jaw clenched in anticipation, "Or in Mr. Stilinski's case, less than one."

Amber huffed in annoyance. When she caught Stiles' eye, she quickly pulled her face into what she hoped was a bright smile while he grimaced at their teacher singling him out yet again.

"Erica," Mr. Harris called, "You'll take the first station with-"

Hands around the classroom shot up eagerly, mostly boys but a couple of girls as well, all hoping to be partnered with the blonde.

"I didn't ask for volunteers. Put your hormonal little hands down." Mr. Harris snapped, shifting his eyes over the room, "Erica, you'll start with McCall."

He paired off the rest of the class for the start of the experiment. Half of the class would move stations and switch partners between reactions, starting the first half of the experiment before finishing the second half of someone else's.

Amber found herself partnered with Isaac for the first round, able to work with Stiles for the final half. She'd normally be relieved, were it not for the fact that when Isaac left her, he was set join Lydia, of all people.

Isaac dropped into the seat beside Amber with a wink, shooting Stiles a smug grin when he noticed the boy hesitating before leaving his girlfriend's station.

"Stiles, it's fine." Amber reassured him softly.

His face pinched in frustration but he gathered his backpack into his arms, intentionally bumping Isaac's shoulder as he passed by with a parting glare.

"A little clingy, isn't he?" Isaac observed, unscrewing the cap from the solution they needed to start measuring to begin the experiment.

"You think so?" Amber questioned, "I think his protectiveness is pretty justified, all things considered." She narrowed her eyes at her current lab partner in consideration for a moment, "Didn't you used to be nice? What happened to that guy?"

She used a small scoop to measure out the sucrose they would eventually need to add the liquid currently coming to a boil over their flame.

"That guy was a loser." Isaac muttered, voice so quiet that Amber almost didn't catch it.

"Says who?" She countered, continuing to scoop the granules from one container to the other.

"Lydia said so," Isaac shrugged, watching her work, "What, you don't remember? You were right there. Always a loyal friend, even when it's to a cold-hearted bitch."

"Hey!" She snapped sharply, spilling some of her next scoop over the tabletop.

"It was the first day of Freshman year," He continued at if she hadn't spoken, "I asked her out."

"I definitely don't remember this." She told him.

"She laughed at me," Isaac recounted, "Said she didn't date losers and I should come back when the bike I rode to school had an engine, not a chain."

"Okay, so that wasn't very nice of her," She agreed, "But that doesn't make her a bad person, alright? I mean, you're still upset about this? It was like a year and a half ago, Lahey. We've all changed and grown-"

"Some of us more than others." He interrupted with a smug grin, cutting the flame so that she could start pouring the sucrose into the beaker.

"If you're really so heartbroken and you want to do something about it, take a creative writing class or something. Channel all that anger and negative energy into something that might actually be useful." Amber muttered.

She poured out the granules slowly and watched them dissolve as Isaac swirled the liquid around with a stirrer.

"Nah," He shot down the idea casually, "I'm not very good at writing. I was thinking I'd just channel it into killing her-"

His words caused her to flinch, the glass container she was pouring the sucrose from slipping from her hand and shattering against the tabletop with a loud crash as Mr. Harris rang the tiny bell on his desk in signal for them to change of stations.

"Switch." The teacher called out.

Mr. Harris stood from his desk to grab a small dustpan from the side of the filing cabinet and dropped it gingerly over the pile of glass at Amber's station. She wordlessly began to sweep the mess away, watching with wide eyes as Isaac stood and began to move over to Lydia's table.

Stiles bumped his shoulder against Isaac's again and the werewolf looked down at the human in amusement as Stiles' face tightened in anger.

"Mr. Stilinski," Their teacher's voice snapped, "If you're trying to test my patience, I guarantee it'll lead to a failing grade."

Stiles made a small noise of frustration but dropped into the abandoned seat beside Amber wordlessly. He took the dustpan from her hands and dumped it into the trash before leaning close.

"What happened? You okay?" He asked quickly, "Because I swear to god if he did something, I'll turn his little werewolf ass into a fur coat and I'll give it to you for your birthday."

She raised her eyebrows, "My birthday is in August."

"You can wear it in the fall." Stiles countered quickly, "I'm serious. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just-" She nodded her head to where Isaac was working with Lydia and Stiles followed her gaze with a frown.

The pair distractedly finished the second half of the experiment, fumbling to mix things together while attempting to keep an eye on the station beside them where Isaac seemed to be working dutifully with Lydia.

Mr. Harris finally rang the tiny bell at the front of the room again and everyone looked up in response to the sudden sound.

"Time," The teacher announced, "If you've catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should be looking at a crystal."

Stiles and Amber both let their gaze drop to the yellow mush at the bottom of their beaker with a wince.

"Now for the part of the experiment you'll enjoy," Mr. Harris told the class, "You can eat it."

Stiles held the beaker out toward Amber as if daring her to try their failed concoction of ingredients and she pulled a face of disgust as she pushed his hand away with a gag. When her eyes drifted to the front of the room, Mr. Harris had his eyebrows raised judgmentally, his gaze locked on the beaker that Stiles was setting down on the tabletop.

"Lydia!" Scott shouted in sudden alarm, gaining everyone's attention.

Amber flinched and sat up in her seat, looking over at Lydia worriedly, but the other girl seemed to be fine. Lydia was giving Scott a look of annoyed confusion, a perfectly concocted crystal held between her parted lips.

"What?" Lydia asked in irritation.

"Nothing." Scott slowly righted his chair from where he'd kicked it out in his haste a moment before.

Amber looked over at her best friend in confusion and he tilted his head in Lydia's direction pointedly, mouth silently moving as he tried to tell her what was going on, 'Kanima.'

Her eyes snapped back to Lydia and Amber only now spotted the familiar shiny substance coating the crystal in the girl's mouth. Lydia's tongue caught on the kanima venom as she moved to take another bite from her experiment and all of the supernaturally aware teens in the room watched on in alarm.

Lydia's teeth crunched down on the crystal and Amber found herself flinching in response to the quiet sound, heart pounding in her chest. A few slow seconds passed but nothing happened to the redhead.

It seemed the venom didn't affect her.

"Derek's waiting outside for Lydia." Scott told Allison, Amber, and Stiles as they hid away in Coach Finstock's office around lunchtime.

"Waiting to kill her?" Allison questioned.

The knots in Amber's stomach tied themselves that much tighter and she looked to Scott with wide eyes.

"If he thinks she's the Kanima, then yes." He told them, "Especially after what happened at the pool."

"But it's not her. I mean, it- it can't be!" Amber told them resolutely.

"She didn't pass the test, Amber. Nothing happened." Scott reminded her.

"But she left!" She assured them, "That night at the pool, she left before I even went inside and she wouldn't have come back-"

"You can't really know that for sure, though. Can you?" Stiles asked gently.

"It doesn't matter," Allison interrupted slowly, leaning back to sit over the edge of Coach's desk, "Because Derek thinks it's her. So.. Either we convince him that he's wrong, or we've got to figure out a way to protect her."

Amber found herself nodding wildly in agreement.

"Well I don't think he's gonna do anything here," Scott said quickly, "Not at school."

"Okay, but what about after school?" Amber questioned worriedly.

Allison threw her head back in distress before looking back at them slowly, "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?"

"By three o'clock?" Stiles questioned incredulously.

"Th- There could be something in the bestiary-" Allison started.

"The nine hundred page digital book that's apparently written in Archaic Latin?" Amber clarified in barely concealed irritation, "The one that none of us can read? That bestiary?"

"Yeah, good luck with that." Stiles added with a shake of his head.

Allison didn't seem to be affected by their negativity, her gaze drawn to Scott as she seemed to get an idea, "Actually, I think I know someone who might be able to translate it."

Amber let out a breath, "Okay.. So Allison gets the translation and uh, I can.. I'll go out and talk to Derek. Maybe if I-"

"No." Scott disagreed quickly. Amber's eyebrows pulled together at his immediate dismissal but he shook his head at her firmly, "No, you stay away from him for now, alright? I mean it-" Amber frowned and Scott gave her a serious look, "I'll talk to Derek. See if I can get him to give us a chance to prove that it's not her. But you guys.. Look, if anything happens, you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that even mean?" Amber stepped closer to Scott in confusion.

"It means that you guys can't heal like I do." He said, eyes drifting over all three of them slowly, "I just- I don't want you getting hurt." His gaze paused on Allison at the tail end of his statement, a worried look on his face.

Allison pushed off from the desk quickly, turning to rifle through her shoulder bag for a moment and Amber lifted up onto her tiptoes to see what the other girl was doing with interest. When Allison turned to face them again, she was holding a tiny, handheld crossbow, arrow already sheathed and ready to be fired.

"I can protect myself." Allison told Scott with narrowed eyes.

"Is that, like, a pocket-sized crossbow?" Amber asked curiously, catching sight of Stiles as he also eyed the device with clear interest.

"Wh- Did something else happen?" Allison asked Scott softly after a moment passed without response, setting her weapon on top of Coach's desk to take a step closer to where he and Amber were standing.

Amber's mind flashed briefly to the image of Scott standing in her bedroom late on Tuesday night. She recalled the small tear at the bottom of his shirt that had been overtaken with a dark bloodstain. When she'd frantically lifted his shirt, it was to find the skin of his abdomen unmarred and already healed. He'd told her how Allison's grandfather had thrust a knife into his gut when he'd gone to pick his mom up from work, the threatening words the old man had spit at him as he twisted the blade to drive his point home.

Amber remembered the way Scott had pleaded with her not to tell Allison what had transpired. How he'd encouraged his friend to be more careful around their new principal, confiding in her the worries he had that even Allison wasn't entirely safe from him.

Looking at Scott now, Amber could make out the terror behind his eyes, the deep-rooted worry he was carrying that something awful might happen and he'd be unable to protect them.

"I just don't want you getting hurt." Scott repeated, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two girls in front of him, "Seriously, if anything goes wrong, you let me handle it. Okay?" He looked to Allison, his expression pleading, "I- I don't care if your dad finds out. Call, text, scream, yell, whatever. I'll hear you and I'll find you as fast as I can."

Amber swallowed nervously at the sobering weight of his words, watching as Allison nodded at him in silent agreement.

Scott sighed, "We have until three."

He looked between Amber and Allison again with a small nod of his own before turning toward the door of the office and making to leave. Amber followed close behind but only narrowly avoided running into his back when he stopped suddenly and spun around to face her. Scott's hand shot out behind her and she turned around beneath his arm in surprise and confusion. Her eyes widened at the sight of the arrow clutched in his hand, the object snatched just an inch beyond where the back of her head had been only a moment before.

"Ah, Sorry! Sorry-" Stiles rushed out with wide eyes, giving the crossbow in his hands back to Allison quickly, "It's a sensitive trigger on that-" He told them awkwardly.

Amber's heart was thumping loudly in her chest, eyes bouncing between the arrow in Scott's hand and her boyfriend across the room, "Wh- Why were you aiming it at me at all?" She squeaked.

"I wasn't! I wasn't aiming it at you!" Stiles defended. Everyone blinked at him in disbelief and he clarified immediately, "I mean, I was just holding it! And it happened to be pointed.. In- in your general direction.."

"Stiles. You almost shot her, dude." Scott scolded, handing the arrow back to Allison as well.

"I- I am aware of that. Thank you, Scott." Stiles snapped.

Amber huffed quietly, heart stammering beneath the ebbing adrenaline in her veins, "Look, I-I really need to go and talk to Danny before free period ends."

"Wh- Babe, just hold up-" Stiles called out, stepping toward her.

"I'll see you guys later." She told the group quickly before slipping out the door.

"Amber. Hey, c'mon, wait a sec-!"

She didn't wait, already hurrying down the hallway in the hopes of catching Danny working in the library the way he so often did during the free period. When she stepped through the doors, the boy in question was sitting at a table with Jackson and Matt Daehler, the latter standing at the back of Danny's seat as they conversed.

"-hey. We could've done it together." Matt laughed, nudging Danny playfully.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt." Amber cut in, moving to stand at Danny's other side.

"Then why are you?" Jackson asked in clear annoyance.

Danny punched him in the arm, turning toward the girl with a grin, "Not interrupting, what's up?"

"I, uh- I talked to Coach and he said you helped with cleanup after the game on Tuesday?" She started, continuing at Danny's nod, "Okay, good. So, I lost my phone and I was hoping-"

"Oh, hey!" Matt cut in, moving around the table to stand beside her and pulling his bag off of his shoulder to dig through its contents, "Is this yours?" He asked, pulling his arm from the depths of the bag with her cell phone in hand.

"Oh my god!" She squealed excitedly, "Yes!"

She took the phone from his hand quickly and wrapped him into a quick hug in thanks.

"I found it under the bleachers at the end of the game," Matt explained, "But by the time I thought to check it to see whose it was, the thing was dead. And my charger doesn't fit it."

"No, no, don't worry about it-" She told him in a rush, brushing her fingers over the device gratefully, "I'm just glad it's not gone forever. I have so many pictures on here that I haven't gotten around to backing up on my computer-"

"That's a pretty bad habit." Matt grinned playfully.

"God, I know." She agreed, "And one I will never do again. I am.. So relieved, right now. Seriously, thank you so much for finding it."

"No problem," He shrugged, zipping his bag back up, "Sorry I didn't get it back to you sooner."

The bell rang out signaling the end of the period and the group collectively sighed at the knowledge that they needed to get to their next class. They all split off and as Amber walked down the hall, she fingered at the power button on her phone thoughtlessly.

The screen lit up suddenly and her steps faltered in surprise, eyes narrowing as she watched her phone power back up slowly.

Her eyes focussed on the wallpaper displayed on the device as it booted up, gaze scanning the cropped image she'd snapped of one of the photostrips she and Stiles had posed for on their date at the ice rink. The top picture displayed Stiles looking down at her in feigned surprise, their fingers laced together in front of the camera as Amber bit down playfully on his wrist. She was slightly blurry in the bottom picture, head thrown back against Stiles shoulder in hysterics from the tickling of his fingers in her sides while he laughed with a big smile directed straight at the camera. The pictures had a warmth blossoming in her chest despite the stresses that had unfolded throughout the day.

The device finally booted up enough for her to unlock it and her eyes went to the display of the battery life in the corner of the screen. She squinted at it and her eyebrows furrowed further in confusion. It was still at 62%.

"Huh."

Amber's leg was bouncing anxiously and she knew it was starting to irk the girl beside her but she couldn't stop the frantic movement.

"Why exactly can't we start studying yet?" Lydia asked, using all of her willpower to not snap at her friend when Amber began to drum her hand against the tabletop as well.

"We have to wait for everybody else." She explained, eyes still glued to the library doors.

Lydia sighed quietly, "Who exactly are we waiting on?"

Amber's eyes cut over to the redhead for a second before fixing themselves on the doors again, "What d'you, uh.. Y'know, everybody. Allison, Stiles, um-"

The library doors burst open and Amber jumped so hard she nearly fell from her seat as Stiles approached their table with fast steps.

"C'mon, time to go." He urged quickly, pulling his girlfriend up with a hand in hers and ushering both girls toward the side doors.

"Where are we going?" Lydia asked in confusion.

"Study group," Amber supplied brightly, pulling her hand from her boyfriend's to urge Lydia to move faster as they headed into the hallway, "At Scott's house."

Lydia looked the couple beside her over in confusion as they walked abnormally quick steps, "If we're doing study group, why didn't we just stay in the library?" She questioned obviously.

"Because we're meeting up with somebody else." Stiles explained, frowning at Amber as she stepped to Lydia's other side and away from him.

"Hm," Lydia hummed, "Well, why don't they just meet us in the library?"

"Oh, that would've been a great idea!" Stiles acknowledged, "Too late."

Lydia paused, slowing her steps, "Okay, wait-"

Jackson suddenly pushed between Amber and Lydia to pull the redhead forward with a firm hand wrapped around her bicep.

"Lydia, shut up and walk." He snapped quietly, pleasant as ever. His fingers were pried from their place around Lydia's arm as quickly as they'd appeared, Amber squeezing his hand in a shockingly tight grip as they continued to walk.

"Jackson, if you want to keep your hand, then I suggest you don't grab her like that again." She whispered darkly.

Jackson rolled his eyes in response to the threat and ripped his hand away, making a show of gently dropping it onto Lydia's shoulder as he continued to urge her forward.

Stiles stepped up behind Amber and put his own hand on his girlfriend's back, face pressed close to hers as he spoke quietly into her ear, "Hey, so I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am for-"

"Stiles, now's really not the time." She told him in an equally hushed voice.

"I know it's not the best time but-"

"Stiles," She whispered sharply, shooting Lydia a smile when the other girl flicked her gaze over curiously as they rounded a corner, "I know it was an accident, okay? It's fine. It just- It scared me, is all."

"Scared the crap outta me too, if it's any consolation." Stiles muttered under his breath.

She reached to take his opposite hand into hers and gave it a quick squeeze, "It's okay. I'm fine. No harm done, right? I forgive you." She promised in a soft whisper.

They pushed through the main doors of the building and quickly made their way down into the parking lot toward Stiles' Jeep. Lydia's steps faltered when she spotted Allison leaning against the blue vehicle in wait and Amber bumped into her back before pushing her to keep moving.

"Wait, wait- We're riding in that?" Lydia asked with a frown, voice high.

It took a moment longer than it should have for Amber to realize that Lydia's thoughts were focused on what she'd divulged that morning detailing the events that had taken place in the Jeep the night before.

"Yes, Lydia. We're riding in that." She said in exasperation, "It has the most room."

Stiles caught sight of Lydia's pinched face as they stepped up to the vehicle and he blinked in confusion, "The Jeep comfortably rides six, I.. Why're we dissing the Jeep? What's wrong with the Jeep?" His attention focused solely on his girlfriend as he asked the last question.

She pulled open the passenger door and threw the seats forward so that Jackson and Lydia could climb into the back.

"Nothing is wrong with the Jeep. Absolutely nothing. Right, Lydia?" Amber asked pointedly.

"It's fine," Lydia agreed begrudgingly, still pouting as she began climbing into the vehicle, "Even though there is no way this thing has had enough time to properly air out-" She muttered to herself as she crawled into the back seat.

The tires of the Jeep practically squealed when Stiles slammed on the breaks outside of the McCall house. As soon as Allison and Amber were out of the vehicle at the passenger side, the latter threw the back of the seats down again to let Jackson and Lydia climb out onto the sidewalk.

When Lydia moved to close the passenger side door, Amber automatically took over to slam the door firmly, habitually holding it steady with her hand pressed firmly against the left corner for half a second in a practiced move to ensure that the heavy door latched and remained shut.

"If we're studying at Scott's house, then where's Scott?" Lydia asked determinedly, giving Amber a sharp look to convey that she knew something was up.

"Meeting us here," Stiles interjected quickly as he rounded the vehicle, "I think. I hope.."

"He'll be here." Amber assured Lydia before turning to give Stiles a disbelieving look at his lack of composure.

When they stepped inside the house, Stiles didn't waste a second before he was throwing the front door closed and working at the many locks and latches up and down the wooden doorframe. The metal clang of the deadbolt and the tinkling of the door chain as he slid it into the track rang out loudly in the otherwise quiet house.

Lydia was distrustfully eyeing the way Stiles secured the door, but she wasn't the only one focussed on his movements, the whole group watching in disbelief as he frantically locked them inside the house. When he finally spun around to face them, he faltered at the amount of attention focussed on him.

"Uh.. There's been a few break-ins in the area." Stiles supplied after a moment.

His eyes drifted to something behind Amber and he moved around her in a flash to grab the wooden entryway chair and prop the tall back of it firmly beneath the doorknob as an extra precaution.

"And a, um.. A murder." Amber added when Lydia's eyes moved to her in a silent question.

Jackson huffed a quiet snort of annoyance and Allison looked as if she were desperately trying not to laugh, but neither one of them interjected to add anything helpful.

"Yeah, it was bad." Stiles agreed immediately, the backs of his fingers brushing against Amber's with how close he was now standing beside her.

She slipped her palm into his and gave his slightly clammy hand a supportive squeeze while Allison nodded her head at Jackson in a gesture for him to do something.

Jackson sighed, "Lydia, follow me. I need to talk to you for a minute."

Lydia huffed in annoyance but moved to follow him when he turned, "Seriously?" She muttered under her breath, "What is going on with everyone?"

Amber watched them go with a frown, making sure to shoot Jackson a sharp glare in warning that he merely rolled his eyes at as they moved to climb the staircase toward the upstairs bedrooms.

In their absence, Amber turned to drop her forehead against her boyfriend's shoulder with a shaky sigh. She felt his free hand come up to tangle softly into her hair and her heart continued to pound with anxiety despite the soothing scrape of his fingers against her scalp.

"I had Mrs. Morrell look at some pages from the bestiary." Allison told them after a moment.

Amber lifted her head, "Our French teacher slash guidance counselor knows Archaic Latin?" She asked in disbelief.

"Well, not exactly," Allison admitted, "But she knows a lot of languages and Latin is one of them."

"Latin isn't Archaic Latin." Amber pointed out.

"I know," Allison agreed, "But she did manage to translate one thing.. 'The kanima seeks a friend'."

"Seeks a friend?" Stiles repeated incredulously, "It killed two people. Amber and I were there for one of 'em.. It didn't exactly look like it was on a quest for friendship."

"How does this help Lydia?" Amber asked Allison quickly.

The other girl shook her head, "I don't know."

After a drawn out stretch of silence, Amber spoke again in a weak voice, "How long d'you guys think we have before Derek to figures out where we took her?"

"Not long." Allison responded quietly, "How are we supposed to protect her from a whole pack of werewolves without getting killed ourselves?" She asked, finally admitting her concern to the fellow humans.

"I'm not sure about Erica, Isaac, or Boyd.. But I know Derek wouldn't hurt me. I-I'm not afraid of him." Amber told them, turning around again but keeping herself firmly pressed against the warmth of Stiles' body with their fingers tangled together, "He doesn't want to hurt any of us.. But he's scared of Lydia-"

"Scared?" Stiles scoffed, "You think Derek Hale is scared?"

"Yes," Amber frowned, "He is. All he wants is to protect the people he cares about and- And I know he doesn't go about it in the best way but-"

"You can say that again." Stiles muttered.

Amber tightened her hand around his and continued, "He's afraid that the kanima is gonna kill someone he cares about. He's lost so much already, you guys. He's lost everyone." Her voice cracked with emotion and Allison blinked at her in surprise.

"He wants to kill Lydia," Allison reminded her firmly, "Amber.. You can't be on both sides when one is trying to kill the other."

"I'm not on both sides," She disagreed quickly, "I'm just saying I don't think that the three of us are in serious danger from Derek specifically, okay? It's the others we need to be worried about.. I'm not convinced that they have control yet over their emotions or their new wolfy instincts."

"Well, then, I think we might need to start worrying," Stiles announced from where he was peeking out of the curtain covering the window beside the front door, "Because they're here."

Amber cursed quietly as she leaned close to peer out of the window, finding the pack of werewolves crowded onto the sidewalk.

"One of you give me your phone so I can call Scott." Allison demanded quickly.

Amber pulled her phone out of her pocket and handed it over easily, her eyes flicking back and forth between Derek and where Allison was bringing the phone up to her ear as it rang out.

"It's me." She said into the phone as soon as Scott picked up, "You need to get here. Right now." She told him quickly before ending the call.

Erica grinned as her eyes bounced between her packmates and where Amber and Stiles still were peeking out underneath the curtain.

"Oh, jeez." Stiles muttered quietly when Erica raised her eyebrows at them smugly, a silent but somehow obvious threat lurking in the purse of her lips.

Amber took a shaky breath and squeezed her boyfriend's hand once again before letting her gaze drift over to Allison. The other girl was fiddling with the phone in her hands, but it was no longer the touchscreen of Amber's phone that she was tapping her fingertips against.

"What are you doing?" Amber asked as Allison flicked through her own cell phone.

"I think.." Allison sighed anxiously and wiped at her sniffling nose with her shirtsleeve, "I think I have to call my dad."

Stiles turned toward her immediately, "But if he finds you here, you and Scott-"

"I know." Allison said quietly. She licked her lips and looked between them and the windows in distress, "But what are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay? They're here to kill Lydia."

"Your dad wanted to kill Lydia too." Amber was quick to remind her.

"Not anymore," Allison defended, "He- I think he'd help-"

"Are you sure about that?" Stiles questioned.

Allison frowned, seeming to seriously mull over the question.

"Jesus. If you honestly have to think about it, then you are not calling him." Amber told her firmly.

Allison sighed but nodded with a murmured agreement before dropping down to dig through her bag. She pulled out the small crossbow that had nearly killed Amber that afternoon and held it in a tight grip.

Stiles had pulled the curtain to the side again and was peering outside once more. When he looked back at the girls beside him, his gaze fell to the weapon in Allison's hands and his eyebrows rose as he frowned in thought.

"I got an idea," He told them suddenly in a hushed whisper, "Just shoot one of 'em."

"Stiles!" Amber hissed, releasing his hand to smack his arm with a look of disbelief.

"Are you serious?" Allison whispered back.

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves, so let's do it," Stiles whispered in quiet determination, looking between them, "Or at least give it a shot, right?"

"Okay." Allison agreed quickly in a barely detectable breath.

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight," Stiles continued quickly, "So if one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of 'em."

"You guys are serious?" Amber whispered in surprise.

"Which one?" Allison asked Stiles as she squinted out the window, the hand wrapped around the crossbow raising just a hair in anticipation.

"Uh.. Derek," Stiles said quickly, "Yeah, shoot him. Preferably in the head."

Amber punched her boyfriend in the arm with as much force as she could manage and he turned to her with a wide-eyed look of surprise and betrayal that matched her own.

"First of all, we are not doing that," She hissed, "And second, if Scott can catch an arrow flying through the air, then I guarantee that Derek can too."

"Okay," Stiles conceded quickly, raising his hands in submission and turning to Allison, "Uh.. Shoot one of the other three then."

"You mean two." Allison corrected quickly as she looked outside.

"I mean three." Stiles disagreed firmly.

Amber moved to look out the window again and her eyes raked over the group outside frantically, but Allison was right. One of them was missing.

"Where the hell is Isaac?" Stiles asked nervously as he looked out over her shoulder.

There was a sudden scuffle of feet across the wooden floor and Amber spun around to find that the boy in question had ripped the small crossbow from Allison's hands and tossed her roughly onto the floor of the living room.

Isaac growled lowly as he approached, shoving Stiles to the ground with one hand and throwing Amber into the kitchen with his other. Her back smacked painfully against the kitchen island and she fell to her hands and knees with a pained groan.

As she pushed herself up and moved to stand, Allison was already stepping into the kitchen to help her to her feet, supporting Amber with a firm grip on her arms.

"Go make sure Lydia is safe," Amber ordered as she got her feet underneath herself again, "Tell her that someone broke in and she needs to hide or- Or something. Just- Protect her."

"I will." Allison promised before dashing upstairs.

The wooden block on the countertop was one knife short as Amber clutched it in her fist with trembling fingers and moved back toward the main room. Just as she stepped through the doorway, Stiles was shoved into the adjoining wall with a loud thump. Isaac was quick to abandon Stiles as he noticed Amber's approach, turning his attention toward the threat who was wielding a weapon instead.

Stiles fell to his knees the moment he was released and Amber watched him suck in a pained breath as her eyes bounced between him and werewolf stalking toward her.

"C'mon Isaac, don't be a dick, okay?" She pleaded, raising the knife in her hands defensively, "We- We don't have to fight-"

"Not much of a fight, if I'm being honest." Isaac shrugged, ripping the knife from her fingers in an easy move and tossing it over her shoulder into the kitchen behind her.

At the sight of Erica rushing toward the staircase, Amber moved to follow after the blonde on immediate instinct but was yanked back by a hand in her hair. A yelp slipped past her lips at the painful tug, the side of her head bashed against the wood that framed the archway between rooms before she was released. She fell to her knees and gripped at the side of her head with a another groan, mildly relieved when she didn't feel the warm wetness that would indicate she was bleeding.

A loud thump sounded behind her and she heard Stiles release another pained noise. She gripped the table along the wall and pulled herself to her feet unsteadily. Amber turned around and, at the sight of Isaac's hand fisted in the front of her boyfriend's shirt, she rushed forward without a thought.

Isaac was pulling his right hand back to deliver a punch but Amber jumped up onto the taller boy's back and grabbed at his arm before he could make contact.

"Hair pulling, Isaac? Really?" She grunted, tightening the grip of her arms and legs around him further when the boy tried to throw her off of himself, "I'd expect that shit from Erica, but you?"

"'s a bitch move." Stiles agreed weakly, only to be thrown down onto the ground at the other side of the room.

With Stiles temporarily out of the fight, Isaac spun around to slam himself back against the wall in the living room, crushing Amber between the wall and himself. The girl groaned in pain but refused to release her hold, instead tangling her own fingers into the dark blonde curls on Isaac's head and tugging aggressively in retaliation.

Isaac let out a rumbling growl in response and pressed back against her that much more, "I'm trying not to hurt you guys-" He grunted through his fangs as he pushed the air out of Amber's lungs.

"Well you're doing-" She huffed breathlessly, "A terrible job-"

Stiles had crawled his way back across the room and he kicked his foot out suddenly into Isaac's ankles, sending the pair crashing to the ground as the werewolf's feet were knocked out from underneath him.

Another growl sounded out, but this time it hadn't come from the werewolf tangled up between Amber and Stiles. Instead, the threatening sound came from the back of the room where Scott was standing with bright, glowing eyes. In a flash, he was in front of them, slamming his fist into Isaac's face with enough force that the other boy slumped back against the floor unconscious.

"We totally had that," Stiles groaned quietly, "Y'know, just.. For the record-"

"Mhm. Didn't need your help at all," Amber agreed weakly as they climbed to their feet, "Thanks though."

Scott gave them both a weary look as he grabbed Isaac by the back of his jacket and dragged his body over to the front door, where he dropped him unceremoniously before heading upstairs without a word.

In the aftermath of the fight, Amber turned to face her boyfriend worriedly. Her hands moved over his chest and up his neck, fingers skimming softly over his cheeks as she checked him for any sort of visible injury. He brought his own hands to her waist but his grip was light in contrast to her desperate touch, as if he were worried he might cause her pain if he applied too much pressure.

"You.. Are such a badass, y'know that? I cannot believe you just pounced on Isaac like that," Stiles flicked his eyes between her own with a soft look, "But please, don't throw yourself into danger for me ever again.. Literally or figuratively."

"Yeah.. There is no way in hell I'm promising that." She scoffed quietly, rubbing the pad of her thumb lightly across his cheek.

Stiles shook his head, knowing it was useless to fight her on it, "You hurt?" He asked gently.

"I'll be fine." She promised, dragging her fingertips over the back of his head as she unsubtly checked for any bumps he might've received from being thrown around.

Scott and Allison's heavy footsteps began to descend the stairs and Amber pressed her forehead to Stiles' in a quick nudge before pulling away. Scott came into view with Erica thrown over his shoulder and he ripped the front door open before tossing her and Isaac outside and onto the front lawn.

The four teens stepped out onto the porch as Derek looked at his incapacitated Betas with a disappointed huff. There was a moment of silence in which Stiles tangled his fingers with Amber's while she reached out to rest a hand against Scott's back supportively.

Derek pursed his lips and slowly looked between the four of them, "I think I know why you both refused me," He announced as his eyes flicked between Scott and Amber, "You're not an omega, Scott. You're already an Alpha.. Of your own pack. And Amber, you're a part of that pack."

She blinked in surprise and her eyes gravitated toward Scott, who had stiffened beneath her hand at Derek's words.

"I thought you.. But, you said you couldn't be a part of a pack unless you were a werewolf." She questioned in confusion.

"I never said that," Derek disagreed, "I told you I didn't want you to be a part of my pack if you wanted to stay human." He corrected easily.

She felt the heavy weight of her friend's gazes fall to her after the admission, but her eyes remained focussed on Derek, unable to help the small pang of hurt that shot through her at his words.

"You know you can't beat me, Scott." Derek said after a moment, his eyes moving to the younger werewolf.

Scott swallowed and reluctantly pulled his gaze away from his best friend to look at Derek again, "I can hold you off until the cops get here-" He retorted.

No sooner had he spoken when the quiet trilling of sirens rose loud enough to be noticeable even to the humans of the group.

Derek's eyes narrowed, head tilting as he determined the distance of the emergency vehicles. His assessment was cut short at an all too familiar hiss from the roof.

The teens rushed down the porch steps to stand in the grass beside Derek and look up at the house, finding the kanima crawling across the roof. The dark, scaly creature turned its head to look at them, as if feeling the weight of their stares, releasing a threatening shriek in response to the attention.

Amber flinched at the shrill sound and Stiles' grip around her hand tightened as he protectively dragged her a small step backwards.

The creature looked the group over with its slitted yellow eyes for a moment before turning and scurrying away, tail flicking in the air behind it as it scaled the side of the house and disappeared from sight.

Stomping footsteps came from inside the house and they all turned their heads toward the open front door as the footfalls drew closer. Amber readied herself for Jackson to step outside with some sort of typically dick-ish remark, but it wasn't him who rushed out onto the front porch.

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on!" Lydia demanded sharply as her eyes flicked around the group in wide-eyed confusion.

"Lydia." Amber breathed in surprise.

"The kanima.. Is Jackson." Scott whispered in sudden realization.

Amber's eyes dropped to the unmoving werewolves laying in the grass that Lydia had somehow not yet noticed and Amber nudged Scott in distress. He turned, following her gaze, eyes bouncing to Lydia and then back down again a few times.

"Um. Why don't I take you home, Lydia-" Allison said suddenly, "Scott, can you give us a ride back to the school to get my car?"

Lydia blinked, "But-"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure." Scott agreed quickly as Allison dragged him to stand in front of where Erica and Isaac were laying.

Amber released Stiles' hand to rush up onto the porch, snatching Lydia's backpack from the entryway inside the house and dragging the redhead down the porch steps quickly and toward the sidewalk.

"Amber-" Lydia huffed in annoyance when her heel caught in a groove in the pavement as she was dragged along.

"C'mon, Lyds. This has been really stressful and scary and we should all just go home and get some rest." She pleaded as they reached Scott's mom's car.

"Shouldn't we wait until the police get here and give them our statements about the break-in?" Lydia asked smartly.

"Stiles and I can handle it," She promised, "Get in."

Lydia frowned and shot her friend a glare before turning and climbing into the back of the car without another word.

Amber leaned down as she readied to close the door, "Text me when you get home safe?" She asked gently.

Lydia rolled her eyes and buckled her seatbelt, refusing to look at her friend as Scott and Allison also climbed into the car.

"Fine," Lydia said with a huff, "Whatever."

Amber accepted the weak promise and finally closed the car door. When she turned back to Stiles with wide eyes, she found that Derek and Boyd had already managed to disappear with Erica and Isaac's unconscious bodies. She was back up the sidewalk in a rush, coming to a stop in front of Stiles and looking around with wide eyes.

"Where the hell did they go?" She asked in disbelief.

"Y'know, it's funny. Derek didn't give me his itinerary for the evening before he left." Stiles shot back easily.

Amber narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend's sarcasm and had opened her mouth to speak when suddenly the sirens approaching them grew louder.

"Right! Time to go." Stiles urged quickly. He guided her down to the Jeep in a rush and sped off down the street in the opposite direction of the sirens before Amber had even managed to buckle her seatbelt.

"Where are we going?" She asked as she fought to remain calm.

"Right now? Nowhere. When we meet up with Scott again? We're gonna go find Jackson." Stiles said, eyes flicking over to her for a moment as he spoke.

"How exactly are we gonna do that?" She questioned.

"Our best friend is a werewolf," Stiles looked at her incredulously, "We're gonna track him down by scent or something and we're gonna get Whittemore's lizard ass."

She sighed, sliding across the seats to sit beside him and tipping her head onto his shoulder, suddenly desperate for the comfort his touch provided. Stiles moved his hand from the gear shift automatically to squeeze tightly over her thigh in reassurance.

"Great," She agreed weakly, "Sounds like a plan."

[beautifulterriblequeen]

so after the tomfuckery that's being going on in the fandom, think you can maaaybe spare some tinkaan goodness? even if just hc's or a small text, honestly i just need something to make this whole thing a bit more bearable :/

Tinkaan goodness is just what the doctor ordered.

_______

“Runaan?” Tinker’s hand automatically reached out in the darkness. But it fell on empty space, on sheets long since cold.

And the angle… Tinker turned his head in the dark. He was sitting up, propped on a stack of soft pillows. Pain began to blossom behind his eyes, and his ears were full of a strange ringing, as if he were sensing a crowd full of Moonshadows on repeat.

His hand tightened on the unfamiliar sheets. This wasn’t even his bed.

It wasn’t dark, either. Something was wrapped protectively around his eyes, letting no light in. He felt at it with his other hand and encountered soft bandages.

Tinker tensed, and the pain in his head skyrocketed. Something bad had happened, and he was going to feel pretty grumpy about it when he remembered what it was. He raised his voice. “Runaan?”

“I’m here.” Runaan’s hand gave Tinker’s foot a reassuring squeeze, and a gust of Runaan-scented air wafted past Tinker’s nose, indicating the assassin had hurried in from somewhere and come to a sudden stop by his feet.

With food. Something smelled delicious. But Tinker had other priorities.

“Two questions,” Tinker began, tilting his face up toward Runaan’s voice. “What happened, and where am I?”

A silent pause was interrupted by the soft clinks of two dishes being set on a wooden surface beside him. Tinker jumped as Runaan took his hand, and he flailed for his husband’s arm, seeking comfort as well as Runaan’s position.

Runaan sat on the edge of the bed, and he took Tinker’s other hand as well. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I guess you’d better keep your hands on me so you know where I am.”

“Or you could, you know, make noise for once,” Tinker sassed.

Runaan spoke through a loving smile. “Ha, you’re funny when you’re concussed.”

“Concussed?”

“Lightly. The healers are more worried about your eyes. That flash was incredibly bright, and the Fulminis spell didn’t do the rest of you any favors, either. You need absolute darkness and plenty of quiet to let your systems settle. I’m staying here at the healing house with you to make sure you get it.” Runaan squeezed Tinker’s hands gently.

“Rayla?”

Runaan’s voice softened, reassuring him. “She’s with friends. They’re taking good care of her. I just want to focus on you and what you need.”

Tinker nodded gingerly. “Did I… Did I hurt anyone?”

Runaan ghosted one hand up Tinker’s arm and cupped his cheek, staying in contact so he didn’t startle Tinker a second time. “This wasn’t your fault, and no one else was hurt. Everything is being taken care of. Including you, by me. Do you hear me?”

Reluctantly, Tinker relaxed, feeling tension draining out of his shoulders. He leaned into Runaan’s hand. “Yes, Runaan.”

Runaan’s hand dropped to Tinker’s shoulder and squeezed. “That’s what I like to hear. Now. I brought you something to eat. Are you hungry?”

“A little. My head really hurts.”

“I brought something for that, too. The healers gave me a potion for you, but I thought you might enjoy it better with a little honey and a strawberry than drinking it straight.”

Tinker hummed softly in interest. “That does sound better, yes.”

One of the dishes on the table next to Tinker’s bed slid off the edge as Runaan shifted toward it from the edge of the bed. “All right, then. Open up. And stick your tongue out in case I drop any of this honey.”

Tinker’s brows rose under the bandages. Runaan, drop something? The idea was nearly unthinkable. But he did as instructed and pushed his tongue out a little.

Runaan’s soft chuckle was all the warning he had before his husband’s warm tongue lapped across his own, ending in a warm, firm kiss that made Tinker gasp and hum delightedly. Runaan gently rested his forehead against Tinker’s temple and murmured in his ear. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. You’re too precious. Here. The strawberry this time, I promise.”

As he pulled back, Tinker let out a soft mumble of dissatisfaction. “Fine, the strawberry. But I found that kiss very therapeutic, and I want that information recorded in my chart.” Then he opened his mouth again, trying not to grin too widely even though his head hurt something fierce.

A cool strawberry slathered in honey rested gently on his tongue, pooling its tangy sweetness, and he quickly closed his mouth around it, capturing one of Runaan’s fingertips before he could pull away. Tinker took hold of Runaan’s wrist and gave his fingertip a thorough lick. Runaan let out a soft whuff of amused interest and allowed Tinker to place a soft kiss against his fingertip before letting him go and eating his medicinal fruit like the good patient he was.

Runaan scooped up Tinker’s hands again and kissed them both. “I’m glad you’re still with me, Tink. When they told me what had happened, how they found you…”

Tinker felt the potent herbs begin to seep into his system, dulling the pain in his head. He squeezed Runaan’s hands tightly. “I’m so sorry, my shade. That must have been awful.”

Runaan slid his hands up along Tinker’s arms until he cupped both sides of his jaw. He pressed a light kiss to each of Tinker’s cheeks, then to his nose, and finally against his lips. “We both know which of us is supposed to die first. It’s against the rules for you to jump the line like that. I forbid it, now and forever.”

Swimming in a black sea of heady drugs and sweet kisses, Tinker could only cling to Runaan’s wrists and smile. “You’re too soft to let me go. That’s what you’re saying.”

Runaan pressed the softest of kisses against Tinker’s forehead, atop the bandages. “That is what I’m saying. I’m too soft to lose you, and I always will be.”

Tinker felt Runaan’s tension in the shivering breaths he puffed against Tinker’s cheek. “I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll be more careful.”

“Please. Please be careful. Your talents are beautiful and amazing, but… but I need you, Tinker. Please don’t leave me.”

Tinker heard the faintest tremble in Runaan’s voice and felt a cold shiver plummet down his spine. Runaan truly had been afraid for Tinker’s life. Tinker traced Runaan’s arms until he could hold his cheeks and bring his face close. “Never. Never ever. I promise.”

The long, sweet kiss that followed felt exactly like the one they’d shared the night of their vows.

And then Tinker’s tummy growled.

Runaan broke the kiss with a smile. “Oh. You are hungry. Good.”

Tinker grinned. “You just want to feed me what you brought. What is it? It smells good.”

“I call it autumn soup.”

“You actually put cinnamon in it? And…” Tinker sniffed appreciatively, “…cloves? Who are you, and what have you done with my spice-averse husband?”

Runaan chuckled, and the second bowl on the table slid free with a tiny porcelain noise. “Well, I wasn’t planning to eat any, so I made it exactly the way you like it. Plenty of flavor and spice. If this doesn’t cure you, nothing will.”

“Promises, promises. Let’s see what you made. Metaphorically speaking.” Tinker rested a hand against Runaan’s wrist, opened wide again, and murmured an expectant ahh.

Runaan sighed as if bracing for bad news, but he spooned up a bite of something warm, sweet, and spicy and let Tinker guide it into his mouth. The flavor hit Tinker like a series of little fireworks in the darkness: Part pumpkin, part apple, with high notes of cherry and lemon rind, as well as crunchy chopped pecans, this concoction of Runaan’s was fit for Winter’s Turn itself. Tinker’s hand tightened around Runaan’s wrist in pleased surprise. “You made this?”

“I… I did. Is it all right?”

Tinker tsked apologetically. “I’m afraid I’m going to need another sample to be certain.”

Runaan’s soft exhalation of relief told Tinker that he’d said exactly the right thing. “It’s not too much?” he asked as he scooped up another bite.

Tinker guided the spoon in the general direction of his own mouth. “Too much what?” he asked, just before opening wide.

“Cinnamon? Clove? Runaan?”

Tinker snorted around his soup, and a dribble escaped through his laughter and ran down his chin. Runaan didn’t miss a beat, though, capturing it with the spoon and tucking it back where it belonged. Tinker made quick work of it before he laughed it out onto his lap. “I should’ve known,” he said when he could speak again.

“Known what?” Runaan asked fondly.

“That any soup made by an assassin is danger soup.”

“Wh- Danger soup?” Runaan’s voice rose in mock outrage. “I ought to shoot you for that entirely uncalled-for comment.”

“Mmm. Promise? You know I can never have too much Runaan, right?” Tinker let go of Runaan’s wrist and reached further, finding his shirt near his waist and tugging. “C’mere.”

The bowl immediately slid back onto the wooden table. “I don’t want to hurt you. Is it a good idea for me to…?”

“Only one way to find out. Now, scoot.” Tinker pulled insistently, reaching for his favorite landmarks on Runaan’s person, settling the tall assassin astride his lap. Runaan eased down with infinite care, as if afraid of squishing Tinker though he’d sat in his lap like this a thousand times before. Tinker’s hands rested comfortably, at home on Runaan’s hips, and he grinned widely, blindly, toward Runaan’s face. “There we go. Right where you belong, Shadebaby,” he sassed his husband.

Tinker felt Runaan shake with silent laughter. The assassin’s weight shifted. “You’re still too far away, Tink.” Runaan’s hands gently pulled Tinker forward from his stack of pillows and cradled him against his chest, holding his head with a delicate hand and pressing his ear against Runaan’s heart.

Tinker slid his arms around Runaan’s waist and held on tightly. His chest tightened, and his heart overflowed, pricking the corners of his eyes with happy tears. They soaked right into his bandages, and he didn’t care at all.

Runaan pressed a soft kiss to Tinker’s horn. “I’m not leaving until you feel better, Tink. I’m never leaving you again.”

Tinker breathed in Runaan’s familiar, intoxicating scent and felt the secure embrace of his husband’s loving arms. “I’m already better.”

Runaan’s murmur was a velvet promise. “Well, now I’m definitely staying.”

[justjessame]

If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 9

I was met at the airport by a lovely older Irish priest. He introduced himself and I realized he was my guys’ uncle. Uncle Sibeal, he told me, good luck with that pronunciation, I thought. He took me to Annabelle’s home. I’m not sure what I was expecting, honestly, seeing as I’d only ever spoken with her over the phone.

Annabelle MacManus was a robust and loud woman. I liked her immediately. She reminded me of my own family. Opinionated, a drinker, and one of the strongest women I’d ever met. She took one look at me and asked two questions.

“Did ya brin’ me ol man back wit ye?” I nodded, his body was being brought along tomorrow from the flight I’d paid for him to be on. She smiled at my charity. And followed up with a doozy. “‘Ow far long are ye?”

I felt my knees shake. Dear Lord, I wasn’t even showing. “What do you- I’m not sure I-” I stuttered through several false starts as she stood waiting for her answer. “A month, at most.” I whispered.

She gave a gleeful chuckle and hugged me to her soft body. “Ah, MacManus babies.” She sighed as she gave me a loud kiss on my cheek. “Been far too long since der cradle’s held babes.” She sat me down at her table and ladled something into a bowl, but when the scent of it hit my nose I ran outside and threw up the snacks I’d eaten on the flight. I felt her standing at the door watching and I burned with shame. “Cabbage tis off de menu den.” She announced, and when I came back in the house I noticed the smell was gone.

Sibeal was sitting at the table watching the entire thing. Great, a priest who could judge me harshly. “Ah, I can see dat yer tinkin’ I judge ye fer yer condition.” He shook his head. “Nah gonna happen, my dear.” I sat down beside him and felt him pat my hand. “Not like ye could marry ‘em both, is it?”

I closed my eyes, thinking that the floor swallowing me would be wonderful right about now. Knocked up by at least one twin, unmarried, unemployed, although I was flush with cash because the store sold surprisingly fast, and now sitting in one of the most Catholic countries in the world. Yeah, life was sweet.

“Do ya tink ye can ‘old down dis?” Annabelle asked, pushing some bread in front of me and offering butter. I nodded, and took a slice. Thinly buttering it, I tried not to notice the two of them watching me. “Yer far prettier den I expected.”

Sibeal was nodding. “Do ya remember tat one girl?” He asked, and got Annabelle cackling.

“Da one wit da weird ‘air?” She gasped out between laughter.

“Na, da one wit all da extra holes.” They were now both laughing so hard I thought they’d fall out of their chairs.

I sat, nibbling on my bread, listening to the two of them reminisce about Connor and Murphy’s greatest or most embarrassing hits. I found myself giggling when they got into a story about their fight over some girl. They still did that, not over me, but the fighting.

“Yer good fer dem.” Annabelle declared, looking at the tiny bit of my bread left. “But my grandbabies need more nutrition.”

Grandbabies? Um, no. “I’m sure there’s only-”

“One?” She finished for me. “So was I.” She shook her head and went to find me something else to eat.

FOUR MONTHS LATER~ ANNABELLE’S HOUSE

It was late and I was in my room. Well, it was their room, but Annabelle declared that it was meant for me. The babies had been extra active today and I was worn out. Yes, babies. Jesus (Lord’s name), that woman was clairvoyant. She’d practically danced during the ultrasound that the doctor insisted on when he thought he heard more than one heartbeat. I rolled my eyes at the memory.

Four months in Ireland and I had a new, new normal. I woke early, or as early as I could, and helped Annabelle with the little bit of upkeep that the house required. Then, I walked to the town and worked at a small coffee shop. I’d been granted a work visa pretty quickly, which I chose to not think about, and that made my days go faster. Then home to dinner, which Annabelle was appalled to see had to be bland or everything I’d ever ingested would purge from me.

“Me own blood and dey don like nothin’ good.” She glared at my bump that grew steadily as though they were traitors. “No cabbage, no corned beef. Barely anyting dat has flavor.” She shook her head.

I laughed at her. She was so determined that the babies would be very Irish, that she failed to get that my genetics were strong too. “Guess that’s what happens when two good Irish lads fall in love with a southern American girl.” I would offer, which she’d scoff at and rip off enough Gaelic to make my head spin. I was chuckling to myself, trying to find a position on the bed that would make the babies calm down and let me rest, when I heard a noise downstairs. Looking at my alarm clock I was curious who’d be coming to visit so late at night. Then I heard them. Their voices that I could pick out from halfway across the world. Surely not. They would have told me.

I rolled out of bed and made my way down the stairs. When my foot found the final stair, I could see into the kitchen. And like a dream, there they were. Connor and Murphy MacManus hugging their mom and not having a single idea that I was pregnant.

[ad1ostoreador]

>> View the mirthhive mirror...

(...or, a purposeful encounter between @fiduspawn-master and @ad1ostoreador, featuring several counts of awkwardness, an emotional shock, a missing moon, and at least one dragon.)

ad1ostoreador: It didn't take much preparation, for Tavros to be ready to go.  A poncho-like cloak, thrown over his folded wings, a small spare bladeleaf-woven basket hooked over one arm, filled with crumbly orange bits of bark chocolate, and an uncertain scratch of the back of his head, before he was inspecting his wrist transportalizer and keying in the right coordinates.

The transportalizer went vworp, with its usual disorienting stutter, and he lifted a hand in greeting, as he appeared on the other side and gave his head a tiny shake to rebalance himself.  "Uh.... hey?"

It was hard, sometimes, to know just how timelines would diverge, and what quirks would strike a passer-by as strange... but the amount of color he was wearing, between the poncho and his loose, patterned pants, would likely be quite odd on any Imperial Alternia, especially for a lowblood.  The fact that he was stubbornly shoeless, maybe, too, but after sweeps of feeling nothing, he was largely uninterested in having anything between his feet and any possible source of sensation, and running around on a beach and through woods all the time for the past months had done quite a lot to toughen them up, post-pupation.  Adult pupation itself had left him well over six feet tall, with hide darker than wiggler-gray, both from frequent sun (freckling included) and from chitin reinforcing it, and his eyes had long since filled in bronze. His hair was a bit shaggy on the sides of his mohawk, in the absence of a recent shave, and showed hints of lighter bronze in streaks through the black, there.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros spent the few minutes it would take for the other Tavros to arrive nervously tidying things around his hive. He was naturally a very fastidious troll, but it was a hard thing to keep up all the time in his condition. He was putting his dishes away when he heard the noise he now recognized as a visitor appearing just outside his hive.

The wind was still racing in from the sea, its constant whisper joined by the creaking of the windmill turning high above and the roar of the waves crashing against the cliffs. A few hop and cluckbeasts that had scattered in fear at the strange phenomenon were starting to wander back as Tavros opened the door to greet--

Oh man. He looked up at the familiar, unfamiliar figure standing in front of his hive. It was like looking in a mirthhive mirror. Seeing an adult was still somewhat alarming in and of itself, (even though he was basically an adult himself) And seeing one that was post molt was even more wild, not to mention one that was kind of him...

This might actually be weirder than meeting Bull...

He was staring- "Uhhhhh, H-hi!" He raised a hand in a stiff, awkward wave. "Do you, Want to come in?" that wasn't a great question.

ad1ostoreador: The location might have been starkly different from his own long-ago hive, but the creaking of the windmill was familiar, bone-deep, and left him awash in a curious mix of nostalgia and wrong-footedness, mixed as it was with the alien smell of the sea.  The scent was somehow very different from the ocean he lived beside, at present... some difference in the blend of minerals, or in the things living and growing in it, and it took Tavros a moment to remember how to answer, with his communing-sense flickering out automatically to touch and catalog beasts he hadn't encountered in sweeps on end.

"Um...." A slow blink, and then an awkward little grin, as he faced the other troll.  "Yeah, sorry... I just... forgot what Alternia felt like.... It's been a... long time."  He lifted the basket a little, and moved nearer, but none too quickly.  Better to give his alternate room to steer clear of the doorway, first.  It was strange, too, how much smaller his wigglerhood hive felt than it once had, to him. He'd visited occasional memories of it, back in the dreambubbles, but none since he'd grown to his present size, and this was real, with a sense of weight and solidity around his horns that the bubbles had never really managed to achieve.

fiduspawn-master: Possibly the biggest visual difference was the quality of light. The pink moon above was not overshadowed by a green neighbor, having only its moonlet for company. It cast the world in softer, warmer hues. 

There was an impressive variety of local beasts in the area, including at least a dozen fairy bulls and an assortment of unfamiliar, synthetic beasts, fiduspawn or fakespawn presumably.

"Oh, You're fine! Take your time!" Tavros reassured him, deftly rolling back and to the side as he pulled the door open more for him. The doorframe was accommodatingly wide and a couple of the antlered hopbeasts slipped inside before the new guest had reached the door. 

Inside was one large open room, with a nutrition area to one side and many windows and low tables against the opposite wall. Half of them had the curtains drawn already, and there were wide paths around everything, and not a lot of chairs. 

"Uhm, The pot's in the kitchen, and, I can go grab the thing I made for Gamzee, If you, Uhh, Give me a second,,," Tav said from behind him, shutting the door carefully, mindful of critters slipping in or out.

There were two fairy bulls perching around the nutrition area, though one was weird and shiny and definitely a robot. Both of them jingled in alarm at the stranger and darted towards their ward to hover protectively around him. "Oh, Uhm, Sorry, They're still not used to other trolls being here, And, That being okay..." Tav apologized as he reached out to bring the flesh and blood lusus out of the air and into his lap, petting it soothingly.

ad1ostoreador: Honestly, he hadn't even registered the green moon's absence, perhaps assuming it was still beyond the horizon.  Tavros moved forward, stepping on through the door, and froze as his gaze landed on the living fairy bull, breath hitching as if he'd just been surprise-punched in the gut.

Right.  Of course Tink was alive, here.  Of course he was prepared for that.  (He wasn't.)

"....Yeah, of course they, uh... wouldn't..." Tavros murmured, a little weakly, and tore his eyes off the lusus who didn't recognize him, looking down at the basket he held.  "...Where should I, um... put this?" He struggled for a casual tone, swallowing.

fiduspawn-master: Tav's fingers brushed his own brow as he sent brief reassurance to the small lusi, both calming down immediately. "Oh, you can leave it in the kitchen, I'll be right back!" He pivoted and rolled off towards the back of the room and down a hallway, disappearing for a minute and leaving the other Tavros alone in the space. A hopbeast sniffed his foot curiously as some other critters moved about the room, including one's he'd made himself. There was a tank on one of the low tables where the colorful newest project was swimming around contentedly. 

Tavros would return a couple of minutes later, flanked by the two fairybulls and holding a small parcel wrapped in a scrap of blue gingham fabric. "Uhm, Here it is!"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros gave a small nod, not looking up, and took a deep breath or two as his counterpart rolled down the hall.  The hive layout was... partially the same, and partially not.  Definitely less cluttered than his own, at six sweeps, and it looked more... purposeful, somehow.  Widened, maybe, with more convenient paths to wheel through.

He moved into the nutrition-block area, and set the little basket on a counter, within easy reach of the edge.  The borrowed pot, he saw, and held awkwardly for a moment before remembering his sylladex--it wouldn't work, back home, but here, it made a decent place to stash things out of his graspers.  Then, the curious hopbeast got a gentle head-scritching, between the antlers.

When his alternate returned, he turned around and straightened up to accept the offered parcel, still not quite daring to look at either the fairy bull or the robotic version.  "Thanks... I'll, um, pass it on to him, and let him know..."

fiduspawn-master: There were a few low ramps in the nutrition area, in front of the counters and prongtrap and the crisprange so that they were reachable. Everything was otherwise uncomfortably low for an upright troll as tables had been modified for the hivedweller's convenience.

Tav held the parcel up to his guest, rolling back a bit once he'd taken it so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look up at him. The normal fairy bull had alighted on the counter near the familiar stranger's elbow and was leaning over to carefully sniff him, its breath tickling his skin. 

"Yes, Okay, Uhm, Tell him I hope he gets better soon I guess..." He smoothed his hands anxiously over the thick blanket wrapped around his legs. "Uhhhh... Is this, Weird for you too?"

ad1ostoreador: "He's... Gamzee's good.  It's just... he's got a thing, right now, where he's... not wanting to go off-planet."  A thing that Tavros wasn't entirely ready to think too hard about, just yet, for assorted reasons. "I'll tell him, though..."

His fingers twitched and curled a little more by his side in an almost-flinch, where the fairy bull was sniffing his arm, and he looked over at a tinted window instead, nodding a couple of times, rapidly.  "...Yeah.  It's... pretty weird.  I can't, uh... actually remember the last time I met another... living version of us, face to face."  A weak smile.

"It's good, though... I'm glad."  It was a rare enough occasion that he thought it was pretty special.  Someone else who'd managed to survive the worst Alternia could throw at them, instead of ending up just another blank-eyed ghost of a dead kid no one really bothered to consider.  Tavros shifted his stance slightly, folded wings rustling under the poncho and skimming the floor behind his feet at their tips as he weighed the option of sitting down on a ramp against the logistics of trying to arrange his wings somewhere without knocking over or breaking anything important behind him.  "How are you, uh... doing, though? With... alts, and timelines, and everything..."

fiduspawn-master: Tav's brow pinched a bit with worry. "Uhm, Yeah, I think he mentioned some stuff to me... Yeah..." He didn't elaborate, it wasn't his place. He reached up awkwardly to rub the back of his neck as his alternate self agreed about the weirdness, blanching a bit when he mentioned 'living versions' "Oh... Oh man... You've seen-?" That sounded terrible, seeing his own corpse... "Uhm, Yeah I guess." He tried to return the smile, giving Tink a glance as they flew up to hover around the other Tavros' head, jingling softly.

His ears twitched as he herd the rustling of wings and noticed his guest fidgeting "Oh! Uhm, Do you want to sit down? I have a loungeplank!" He said, quickly backing up and spinning around to the other side of the big, open block. There was indeed a mostly unused loungeplank shoved back against the wall across from a row of windows, a skylight letting in the moonlight from above through a heavy tint. There was a screen on the third wall and another low table with a half dozen stacks of fiduspawn cards he'd been organizing, along with his old, beat up husktop. He quickly cleared a stack of host plushes off of the couch, dumping them off to one side for now and turning back towards his guest. "Oh, uhm, well... Its- Uhhhh." He broke eyecontact, hands coming together to twist the ring around one of his thumbs. "its... different... from normal..."

ad1ostoreador: "...Ghosts, and stuff, mostly. A little different from, uh... the type Aradia used to call up, though... in a place where they all sort of, um.... hung around and didn't remember they were dead, usually."  Or that he'd visited before.  Or much of anything, outside of whatever set of memories or pan misfirings they'd gotten hung up on going through the motions of repeating, over and over and over.

The offer of a loungeplank made him shrug slightly, rubbing at the back of his neck one-handed.  "Is it okay if I, uhh... pull it away from the wall a bit? I'll put it back, after..."  The ring on Tavros's thumb caught his eye, unfamiliar as the accessory was to him, but he didn't pry.  "...Yeah... it's definitely different, for sure."  It was still hard to look at Tink, and he couldn't bear communing with the lusus, at all.  He'd have thought four sweeps would dull the edges there, some.

fiduspawn-master: "Oh, Right, Wow..." He'd always thought ghosts were pretty spooky, and he'd only seen Aradia conjure them up once. He didn't really want to think about himself being... like that.

"Yeah! Of course! Whatever you need!" He replied quickly "Here!" 

He rolled over to one side of the loungeplank, grabbing the corner and bracing his other hand against the wall, pushing it forward a few feet pretty easily, if unevenly. 

"Uhm, Yeah, It's been... A lot... I think maybe I'm not dealing with it that great..." he mumbled, looking into the dark space behind the loungeplank as a trio of sleepy eyes blinked back at him. He rolled backwards to let the soothcoon waddle out from its nap spot.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros moved to heft the other end of the loungeplank, scooting it easily forward to leave clearance for his wings, and pausing to chirp a quiet greeting-noise at the soothcoon, with a touch of apology for disturbing it.

"I... think, probably, it would be hard for anyone to, uh... deal with it wonderfully, all things considered.  Even for those of us who played the game, because it was dumb and awful...  ....So... it's okay to be kind of... rattled, about it all, yeah?"  He trailed off, then carefully took a crooked seat on the loungeplank, wings draped over the back and down to the floor behind it at an angle.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros turned to situate himself on the other side of the table, his hands smoothing distractedly over the blanket wrapped around his legs again as he looked around the floor. "I'm not really sure if 'rattled' is the word that I would use, Or that even all of the crazy other timeline versions of people I knew are, Uhh, the thing that I'm not handling well..." he admitted, his fangs digging at his lower lip a little. "I mean, I think that I can just kind of accept that that's a thing, since, I've known for a sweep by now..."

The robotic fairy bull was still perched on the back of his chair while the other had landed on the back of the couch, directing a tiny moo in their guest's directions, the naturally affectionate creature demanding attention.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros worried at his own lip a little, with a fang, sneaking a glance toward the living fairy bull and twisting his own fingers together in his lap, slowly, until his knuckles paled.  "...No?  What part is, uh... messing with you, then?"

fiduspawn-master: The small lusus fluttered its eyelashes at him and mooed again, fluttering its wings with a little jingle as well, practically begging for a pet. 

"Uhhh.... It's, Probably not important... And, Also kind of hard to articulate. And, Maybe kind of terrible?" He winced as he bit his lip a little too hard, starting to fidget with the ring around his thumb again. "Sorry, You probably don't want to talk about this..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros took another deep, slightly shaky breath, and fought down any pathetic grub-noises before they could slip out, very carefully reaching up and giving the fairy bull a gentle pet.

"...I mean... it's not fair to you, if parts of all this are messing you up.  So... maybe if you can, uh, articulate at least some of it, you might feel kind of better?"

fiduspawn-master: They were ecstatic! Nuzzling his palm and licking his fingers as they jingled happily.

Tavros nearly mimicked his alter's shaky breath, his claws tapping against his ring "Uhm... I guess there are just, Some feelings I've been having, That, I'm not used to having..." he mumbles, shrugging slightly.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros stared into an indistinct spot somewhere near the middle of the floor while the lusus licked his fingers and nuzzled on his hand, his eyes gone a little bit glassy, but managed to keep his voice largely level, if somewhat quieter than usual.  "...I don't want to, um... assume things. About you, or feelings that happen to you... even if I kind of, uhh... suspect that maybe we had some of the same... problems, relating to that general, uh, area of experiences..."

fiduspawn-master: Well, maybe, if anyone could understand, without thinking he was just really terrible, it would be another version of himself, maybe... He finally looked up at him to respond before noticing his expression and stopping. "Uhm, Are you, Okay?" He asked, concerned. 

The lusus still looked pleased as punch to be pet, its little tail whipping back and forth.

ad1ostoreador: He bit his lip again, and looked up, almost guiltily jerking his hand back to his lap, with a quick rub of the other hand over his eyes.  "....yeah. I'm okay.  It's fine..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros frowned, tilting his head slightly as the lusus mooed in disappointment "Uhm, Okay, But, No, I don't think that you are?"

ad1ostoreador: A few beats of silence passed, and then Tavros managed--"...I wasn't... expecting to see..." He jerked his head slightly in the direction of the lusus.  "...that's all.  It's dumb, and I should have... expected.  I'm okay."

fiduspawn-master: His brows furrowed in confusion. "To see a fairy bull? Uhm... Oh, Right, I guess there must not be any in the place that you live... Uhm, I can ask him to go in the other room, If you want" He offered.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros hesitated, then shook his head, though a tiny part of him wanted to nod, instead, and another part wanted to maybe just curl up in a hole.  "No.... no. It's okay... really.  It's just been a long time.  You were, uh.... you were saying?"

fiduspawn-master: He wasn't totally convinced, sending a brief thought to the fairy bull to not bother their guest. Reluctantly they fluttered down to the other side of the couch and sat down, pouting a little bit. "Oh, Uhm, I don't know. We don't really have to talk about it..." His alter looked upset and distracted, and he didn't want to make him more uncomfortable or bother him about his problems...

ad1ostoreador: Frankly, a distraction from the shitty ache behind his eyes and missing his own lusus would be welcome.  He rubbed at the ring in his own nose, briefly, and let out a tiny breath.  "....like I said, I don't want to, um... assume things, which could be wrong, if you don't... want to say anything.  But... you don't have to."

fiduspawn-master: He sighed faintly and fiddled with his ring again, looking off towards the windows. "Well... I guess I have just gotten pretty used to the only feeling I felt being loneliness? Which, Was really pretty terrible, But also, Familiar...?" He trailed off a moment, one hand squeezing into a fist. "Now, There are people to talk to and, Uhhh, Watch, Live their lives, Doing important things and, Uhm, Having friends that care about them a lot, And, It has just been making me have a lot of feelings about everything, And, It feels like it was easier, To just be lonely, But, Also, Somehow, I feel even more lonely than I did before?" He swallowed, looking down as his hair flopped forward into his face, his hands kneading together hard. "Uhm, Sorry, That probably sounds pretty dumb, And, Terrible..."

ad1ostoreador: "No, I... I get it."  Tavros cleared his throat a little, fingers back to being laced together in his lap.  "...Being in the Furthest Ring alone was... really lonely.  And in some ways it... felt even worse to go online, and see everyone just... busy and happy with all their own, uh, lives, and stuff, and people they actually cared about..."

fiduspawn-master: He finally looked up at his alter again as he spoke, nodding a little with a small sniff "Yeah, That is, Pretty much it exactly..." he huffed, reaching up to push his hair back into place again. "I, Don't really know what to do about it, Or, If it would be better to just... Not go online..."

ad1ostoreador: "...It's not easy.  And sometimes the bad times like that just keep happening over again, when it's extra, uh, hard, and lonely, and everything is awful. But... if you stay away from everyone, and you don't meet anyone, or talk to anyone.... you won't get any of the good times, then, when it doesn't feel that way, and when you can believe that people would notice, if you... weren't online."  It was possibly a cycle Tavros had been through multiple times, himself.

fiduspawn-master: His hand stayed in his hair, twisting it between his fingers some as he tried to get the lump out of his throat, making it hard to breathe. "You, Uhm, Really think that it could be like that for me?" he huffed, looking down a the blanket over his legs. "For me?"

ad1ostoreador: "I think, definitely so. And... I think that trolls aren't... meant to be all alone.  We... need other people, more than that... even with all the dumb Imperial stuff, trying to draw lines between everybody and keep them apart..."  Tavros echoed the faint 'huff', with a small shake of his head.

fiduspawn-master: Tav fidgeted a bit at the empire talk, shifting a little in his chair and shrugging "I mean, I wouldn't be alone if I wasnt-... I could- could have, Made other friends, And, Uhm,  known people... I could have tried..." Maybe he shouldn't be defending the empire here, but it was kind of his fault for being a cripple. "I wouldn't have gotten stuck in being lonely, I don't think..."

ad1ostoreador: "...It's not 'could have'... it's 'can'," Tavros pointed out, glancing up from his own fingers then.  "Only, without the part where V--she, uh, ruins everything, always.  There's... lots of options, you know? Even if you haven't always... had some of those options, before now."

fiduspawn-master: His fingers fisted tight in the blanket in his lap at the mere mention. "Yeah." he huffed with a scowl before sighing again "Yeah... I guess, It will only be too late if I stop trying... It's... Hard though. It still kind of feels like I'm too late, And, Not ready, At the same time..."

ad1ostoreador: "....Used to feel sometimes like everyone was... busy finding all their serendipity back before I even, uh, knew the site everyone uses now was a thing that existed.  Like I was... just too late to ever be anything important, to anyone, even as a friend..."  Tavros said, a little too off-handedly.  Sometimes it still felt that way, except for Gamzee, but he usually tried to remind himself that that was probably the horrible gray creep of depression talking, and not actual reality. "..But don't stop trying, is the point, mostly. Like you, uh, said, it's not too late unless you quit trying..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros nodded slowly as he listened. Yes, that was pretty much exactly how he felt about it. Maybe though, if another version of himself could overcome it, (albeit, a way cooler more interesting and less broken version of himself, but, that wasn't a helpful thought to have) Then maybe he could too. 

"Yeah, Okay... Thank you. Uhm, I'm glad that you understand, Even though, I'm also sorry that you understand..."

ad1ostoreador: "It's... one of the good things, I think, about there being... so many versions of so many worlds, out there... the odds are probably, um, pretty good that somebody understands just about anything... yeah?" He tried for a small and crooked smile, shrugging.

fiduspawn-master: Tav mirrored the lopsided smile with another small nod. "Heh, Yeahhh... Uhm... Sorry, Things got kind of heavy. I hope this visit hasn't just been really terrible." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck again awkwardly. "Maybe, If you ever wanted to come by again, We could do something actually fun?"

ad1ostoreador: "It's fine, really... and, that would be a thing that we could, uh, do... or... you could come visit our planet, sometime, if you wanted?"  Beach sand might not agree with wheels, so well, but the 'social' hive had smooth, solid floors and lots of open space to maneuver.  "I think you would like to meet the, uhh, oggos a lot..."

Tavros couldn't help one more furtive glance over at the small lusus at the other end of the couch, and swallowed.

fiduspawn-master: "Oh, Yes! Uhm, Gamzee mentioned there were new kinds of beasts there, And it sounded really beautiful also!" He brightened up a bit at the idea, his hands relaxing in his lap. "That would be fun."

The fairy bull had curled up once it became clear it was going to be ignored by the new troll, and was dozing off, shimmery wings folded down against its back. "Uhm... Do you want to take some with you?" Tav asked, seeing him eyeing the lusus again. "There's, Uhh, A good sized herd around right now, You could probably take enough to start breeding them, If you wanted." He was still working under the assumption that he simply missed the general presence of fairy bulls.

ad1ostoreador: For a moment, he froze, then slowly shook his head.  "...I think... it would just, um, make me think more about missing mine, probably... a lot."  He shut his eyes briefly.  "...How did you, uh, get a robot fairy bull, anyway?"

fiduspawn-master: He bit his lip and nodded a little "Yeah, Okay, Sorry. It is definitely always really hard when they die, I can't imagine there not being more to come and replace them..." he mumbled before glancing back at the shiny white fairybot. "Oh, Uhm, That was, Uhh, Bull. He kind of changed the one that was taking care of me, So that they could always be monitoring me, and, the thing that he did to make my legs not be hurting pretty much all of the time, Since, I didn't want any of the robot stuff to be in my sponge..." He patted the fairybot a little more tentatively "I guess that it's okay, Since, They still are happy.”

ad1ostoreador: Tavros was very quiet, for a few more beats, and then quirked a quarter-smile that mostly looked like it hurt. "There was just... the one, for me. When I was younger.  He... always acted like he missed other fairy bulls, but... there weren't any more wild ones nearby, not for leagues and leagues... and nobody rust was allowed more than one lusus.  Even if they were... really small."

The thought of anyone just being changed that way, even a lusus, still made something roll over unsettled in his stomach, but he let out a breath.  "...I'm glad he, uh... helped your legs not hurt."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros frowned as his alter spoke, his ears drooping. "Oh man... I'm so sorry, That must have been, Really hard..." he mumbled, his eyes wandering to Tinkerbull as he twisted the ring around his finger. "Uhm, Yeah, I'm glad too, And that, That is all that he did, Also..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros couldn't help a small, wry, but real-er smile, at that. "Yeah... He really, um, likes the... robot stuff. But... he won't do it, if you remind him not to..." He shrugged slightly. "And if you don't want to, uh... be like that."

fiduspawn-master: "Yeahhhh... He was really sorry for, Uhm, Freaking me out afterwards. He just, Really wanted to help... I think, That I just don't want to not be me..." His jaw tightened slightly as his hands smoothed back over his blanket "Even if, Me, Isn't as cool or smart, Or, Really confident, As I guess he could have made me..." He trailed off, eyes downcast.

ad1ostoreador: "I think... for him, he didn't feel like himself until he went all... robot. So... he has a hard time, maybe, understanding people who don't feel like themselves because they've been made a robot...." Tavros added, quietly. 

"...He does try really hard to help, though. And... I think you are already pretty cool, and smart, what with being all, uh... an illegal rebel, hiding on-planet, and... building fakespawn, and stuff that I don't have any idea how to do, but you do it really well. And... the fact that you are still alive, when... most everything on Alternia is designed to, um, try to prevent that. And you're away from her..." Which was a big thing, all by itself.

fiduspawn-master: He huffed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair again. "Uhmmm, I don't know, About all of that stuff... But, I don't really need to be anything special..." He gave a half hearted shrug "I think that I will just probably always be the same, Until..." He trailed off again before shaking his head, finally looking up at his alt with a strained laugh "Hah, Wow, This is all pretty depressing to talk about! Uhm, We could definitely probably be talking about things that are not that!"

ad1ostoreador: From where Tavros was standing, it already looked like a few major changes, from the pupa they'd once been.  He didn't argue the point further, though, just giving his head a little shake.  "Sorry... you should definitely, um, come visit sometime soon, though."  He had the beginnings of the inklings of an idea, even.

fiduspawn-master: "It's okay! And, Yes! I think I would like that a lot, If you guys felt like it." he said as he kept up the smile a little more naturally. "I can't wait to try the chocolate you brought also, I can't remember the last time I got to have any!"

ad1ostoreador: "It's like... a tree-fungus, where we are. It grows on their stemrinds, on certain types... and it tastes just like chocolate. Not the, uh, over-sweet candy type hivestem stuff, but the real stuff."  Tavros might have been rambling a little, for the sake of a topic that didn't sting. "I use it in, um... hot cocoa, and spicy huskbean stew, and some other things..."

fiduspawn-master: "Oh wow! That sounds like an amazing thing to have grow where you live! Hah, Man, I don't have a lot of stuff to make spicy food with, I wish I was better at cooking fancy stuff..." he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

ad1ostoreador: "I don't know that anything I make is, uh, fancy... it's all just... country, um, warmblood type food, but..."  It was still a conscious effort, for Tavros, to remember to say 'warm' and not 'low', sometimes.  To avoid sliding back into old, Alternian habits, like they might inadvertently stain their new planet with the leavings of the old.  But he was trying. Gamzee was more of a stickler about it than he, even.  "We're not that far into the cool season, I think... but for now, there's lots of food to find, still."

fiduspawn-master: "I'm glad to hear that! I have been, Uhhh, Saving a lot of food. I dug out a whole nutrition cellar last sweep, After the drones managed to damage my windmill, And, I lost power for, Like, A perigee, And all my food went bad..." He shook his head again and shrugged "But, I have learned a lot about preserving food now, And, I have plenty of it stored up for the dim season!" he continued cheerily. "It was definetly worth all the work, Heh."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded, brow furrowing at the tale.  "Oh... no.  Do you, um, have enough power back now, I hope...?"  He looked up.

"We, uh... had to kind of learn some things suddenly.  About preserving fish.  These... whartlebeasts came through our, uh, bay, and I think they were just migrating, but.... they feed by crowding everything up into the shallows, and just taking big gulps as they go by.  So... we had fish flopping up on the beach, fish all over the place... and the oggos were, uh... having a very... messy blast with it all. "  He snorted a half-laugh.  "...We started smoking excess fish, then. Or it would have just... stunk everything up terribly."

fiduspawn-master: He nodded "Oh, Yeah! The power cells are all full up after the storm last light! I, Uhh, Wish I could get more to store more power, For emergencies, But, That would be kind of hard." he admitted.

He smiled at the mental image of all the beasts, laughing with his alt and grinning "Hah, That sounds so fun! And a great way to get a lot of food, Heh,"

ad1ostoreador: "Definitely... I mean, raking the sand clean after it all wasn't fun, but... feeling the whartles was... sort of like with skywhales, only all heavy and rough-shelled, and staying in the water, and just, um, thinking deep cool thoughts, as they paddle along..."    He raked a hand through his shaggy hair.

"I'm sure there's people online who, um, would trade more power cells, for something you can make, or else find, around here..."

fiduspawn-master: His eyes sparkled as he smiled wide, imagining the unfamiliar beasts. "Wow!!! I hope I get to see them, If I come over, Heheh,"

He leaned back in his chair, looking to his husktop on the table "Uhm, Yeah, It's been kind of hard to trade for things that are that big and heavy, And, Also expensive...."

ad1ostoreador: "I don't... know much about that kind of thing, really, but there are definitely people who can find that stuff."  He shifted his wings a little, with a crickety, papery rustle.  "You, uh... said that drones broke the windmill, before? How did... that happen?  I mean... without them doing worse...."

fiduspawn-master: "Uhhh, I think that it was just really unlucky? Since, They came in the day, And, No beasts spotted them coming until it was too late. They managed to tear off two of the blades before I could organize enough beasts to fend them off. Usually, They will leave a hive alone if it seems to have become a, Uhm, Lusus den..." That had been a very difficult few perigees, with no power and not much food, having to work all night every night to rebuild the windmill, and then to dig a nutrition cellar after that. The beasts had helped of course, but there was only so much that they could do...

ad1ostoreador: Tavros grimaced slightly.  He might have been off Alternia for sweeps, but the prospect of fending off determined drones with stray lusii and wild beasts was none too appealing. "...It's good that you were able to, uh... drive them away, before they did more than that... and that you were able to fix it, and do all that work, after..."

fiduspawn-master: He nodded solemnly before smiling with a small chuckle "There have not been a lot of fly bys for the last couple of perigees though, I think I have managed to mostly, Uhhh, scare them off from this area!" His smile spread into a big, slightly smug grin. "I managed to find a beast that they will always steer clear of!!"

ad1ostoreador: "Good... good.  That's... definitely better than the alternative."  Tavros's ears flicked, cupping curiously towards him.  "Oh yeah? What kind of, um, beasts will they stay away from, around here?"

fiduspawn-master: He leaned forward a bit in his chair, coppery eyes sparkling with excitement "Do you want to see?? You have to promise not to look, Though, Or to feel for them either! It will be a really cool surprise that way!!"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded slowly, a mixture of anticipation and puzzlement on his features.  It was hard to rein in his automatic level of communing and then deliberately try not to think about it, though.  Harder yet to not think about the thing he was supposed to not think about.  "Uhhh..." He tried shutting his eyes, and just focusing on the sleepy soothcoon and the flittering, too-familiar feel of the fairy bull in the vicinity, instead.  "...Okay..."

fiduspawn-master: Tavros giggled, giddy as he turned to the wall of windows, putting a hand to his temple briefly to focus and find the beast he was seeking. They were pretty far away, but that didn't matter, it would only take a couple of minutes for them to get here. In the meantime he tugged at the blackout curtains to reveal the open, rolling fields outside, the wind still making the grass ripple like waves. He could feel them approaching, and he turned to go back to his alt, grabbing one of his hands to guide him over to the window "Here! They're about to land!"

A shadow blocked out the rosy moonlight for a moment before with a heavy thud, a gleaming, white dragon, nearly the size of a galleon, landed in the grass just outside. "Tadh! Heh, This, Is my new friend, Who has scared away most of the drones!" Tavros announced, throwing out an arm towards the huge lusus. “Uhh, Here." Reaching out, he pulled open one of the windows which was actually a door. "You want to meet them?"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros kept his eyes shut, even when he was tugged closer to the window, until his counterpart called out.  Then.... Oh.  That was... that was an actual real live adult dragon, of a sort he'd never encountered on his own Alternia, Terezi's sleeping unhatched lusus notwithstanding.  For a moment, he could almost taste an echo of the smell of burning tissue, but it wasn't real and it wasn't here and nobody was creep-crawling through his pan.  And that was a dragon.

"....Yes... uhh, yes, can I?"  The question was half to his alternate, and half to the massive creature itself.  It was only proper to be polite, of course, when meeting someone new.

fiduspawn-master: On closer inspection, although large, the dragon was still technically an adolescent, its eyes still sealed shut though a dull red glow was visible through the lids. By way of answer Tavros simply wheeled out the door ahead of his alt and moved to the side.

The dragon turned its massive head towards both of them, nostrils flaring as it sniffed them out. It- she, was friendly, if a little aloof, showing a little more interest in the winged stranger than the one who'd called her.

ad1ostoreador: "...She's beautiful," he breathed, stepping out the door and shrugging his poncho off with a quick slip of a fastening that let him spread his wings and give them a flick or two to stretch.  He approached the dragon, fearlessly, to be sniffed to any degree she liked, and reached up to scritch gently along a seam of fine scales on her jaw.

"I bet even the drones definitely, uh, don't really want to pick a fight with her, do they...?"  Tavros paused, gazing up at the dragon's bulk.  "...Was she Terezi's? Or...?"

fiduspawn-master: "Heh, Yeah," he agreed with a smile that faltered when he looked to his alt and saw him shrugging off the poncho he'd been wearing, seeing the wings in person for the first time. Oh... That was a little worse than a mirthhive mirror. He wanted to look away but he also didn't.

The dragon lowered her head, longer than a troll was tall, giving Tavros a more thorough sniffing. An uncomfortable heat radiated from her closed eyes and she generally kept them angled away from both trolls so they wouldn't be seared by the proximity. Her scales were hot too, at least on her head, almost too hot to touch.

Tav was still staring at his alt, only snapping out of it when addressed "Oh! Uhmm, I kind of think that she probably was, Since, They are so rare, It is pretty likely, But, She is kind of, uhhh, Cagey, About information regarding herself..."

ad1ostoreador: He kept the touch light and careful, skimming shy of burning his fingers on the heat of the dragon's scales.  "I don't know how, uh, fast they grow, after hatching..."  It was hard to tell, with some of the megafauna.  Some would shoot up in a couple of seasons... others just inched larger incrementally from sweep to sweep.  "She feels... strong. How long ago did you meet her...?"

fiduspawn-master: "I'm not sure either, But, I don't think she's too old..." He stayed back a bit, letting his alter interact with the magnificent beast on his own. "Uhm, Maybe six perigees ago? She was just, Flying along the coast, And I brought her in to get to know her a little bit... She has been coming to help me with the drones every now and then since then..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros looked from the dragon to his alternate, and back, not speaking for a moment.  Like any psi-active troll, if his powers were pushed hard enough, even his eyes would visibly glow... but for a mere touch of mental communication exchanged with the beast, in the form of a polite query, the flicker was so muted and brief that it would pass unseen.  Had she ever flown with a passenger? And more importantly, would the gracious lady be willing to?

fiduspawn-master: She returned an affirmative, followed by the mental equivalent of a nonchalant shrug. Not opposed. 

Tavros noticed his alt looking between him and the dragon, simply raising an eyebrow. "Uhhh..."

ad1ostoreador: He grinned then, fangy and bright.  "...Have you, uhh, gone flying with her, before?"

fiduspawn-master: His eyes widened "Oh, Uhm, Like, Riding her? No I, Definitely haven't done that..." He looked to the dragon's imposing bulk and, yeah, that would have been a bit of a climb to get up there, and those claws were maybe a bit too sharp to safely hold a troll...

ad1ostoreador: "Then... that is a thing we are going to do, because I can definitely help you get up there, and also back down again," Tavros announced, beaming... then hesitated.  "If... if you want to, I mean...?"

fiduspawn-master: His mouth hung open a moment as he looked at his alter, and then the dragon. "O-oh, I-... Yeah, I, I think that I would like that..." he said, a little quietly, giving him a nervous smile.

ad1ostoreador: Good.  It just wasn't right, somehow, for any of their bloodline to be entirely ground-bound.  He moved forward, coaxing and coordinating with the dragon to lower her stance, to position one foreleg just so, outstretched for potential support, and reached out to offer his alternate both hands, for a solid forearm-to-forearm-locked grip.  His wings spread wider and tilted against a gust of the sea wind, and a strange, faint, smaller set of rust-orange phantom wings shimmered into being with them, almost like a flapstraction's holographic overlay. There was a hint of blue shimmer at the edges of his clothes, too, but his actual, real clothing stayed firmly where it belonged.  (He really was emphatically not a fan of his godtier's default cut, or of having that much of his legs exposed, even sweeps and a pupation after the fact.)

"What I can do, is lift you up over her shoulder, and, uh, set you down between her neck-ridges.  Slowly.  Okay...?"

fiduspawn-master: He watched for a second as his guest conversed with the dragon before jolting slightly in realization, looking down at his lap. Oh, this probably wouldn't work, how could he keep them wrapped up? He didn't want him to have to see-- not after Bull's reaction had been so bad. Dang it, why did he have to prefer the comfort and convenience of shorts? He was so preoccupied he totally missed his alter's subtle transformation, rolling his chair backwards towards the door again. "Uhhhhh, Do you think, You could maybe, Uhm, Wait a couple of minutes? Uhh, Sorry, I just, Have to do something really quick!"

ad1ostoreador: "Okay, uh... no problem. No rush."  Tavros lowered his hands again, no longer braced to lift off, and instead rubbed the back of his own neck, then raked his hair out of his eyes, where the wind had blown it around wildly.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros retreated quickly inside, emerging after a few minutes, blanket discarded and long pants donned. There was still a hint of, visible mishapenness to them, but the pants were baggy enough to hide most of it.

He rolled back over to his alter, smiling awkwardly "Uhh, Hey, Sorry about that, I'm ready now I guess?"

ad1ostoreador: Well, it wasn't as though Tavros would judge his alternate for the shape his legs were in... he just had lingering sensitivities about his own.  This time, he sprang up off the ground to get his wings beating fast enough to hover, as he would have to back on his own planet, then furrowed his brow, dipped closer to Tavros's chair, and offered his hands again, as the weird holo-overlay wing effect remained perfectly, ornamentally still, and his flight steadied from a hover into something more like a gravity-free float. Godtier nonsense and physics were not always on the best of terms, and occasionally resulted in the latter presumably throwing its metaphorical hands up and wandering away for a stiff drink.

"Here..."

fiduspawn-master: No longer distracted, he watched his other self take to the air, making it look so, natural and effortless, then, maybe a little unnatural, but still effortless. 

Swallowing, he nodded and reached up to firmly grasp his arm, letting himself be pulled out of his chair. He still winced, even though he knew it wouldn't hurt, it was just a hard habit to break at this point.

ad1ostoreador: It was slow. Easier than it should have been, even as the muscles in Tavros's arms went taut and he lifted them, as smoothly as a balloon drifting up from the chair and angling upwards along the dragon's shoulder, dangling feet not skimming her scales, but barely above them.  He stopped, when his alternate was suspended neatly over the notch in her neckridges, then carefully, carefully hovered him lower, prepared to hold his weight up one-armed if need be until the other troll had gotten his legs arranged to his satisfaction.

"...All set?"  Given the affirmative, he would lower him the last few inches, to settle his weight there safely.

fiduspawn-master: He clung to his alter's arm, pulling his legs up a bit to keep them from just dangling as he was airlifted over to the dragon's back and gently lowered down. The scales were still hot but not burning like they were on her head, and he settled himself, reaching forward to hold on tightly to one of the neck ridges and looking up at Tavros with a nod. "Yeah, I'm good I think..."

ad1ostoreador: Tavros grinned, broad and pleased, and went from that odd drifting float to wing-buzzing flight again, lifting higher against a gust of wind and hovering near the dragon's head as he called her to take to the sky.  "Hang on, okay?"

fiduspawn-master: He didn't need to be told twice, bracing himself and connecting to the dragon in order to anticipate her movements and better keep balance. She sensed his readiness, standing and turning away from his hive to face the cliffs, starting at a trot to gain speed. The trot turned to a gallop as her wings spread, tilting to catch the wind as they launched themselves off of the high cliff and took to the air.

Tavros was hanging on for dear life, the ride quite bumpy while she was still on the ground. His stomach flipped as she jumped, his breath catching in his throat as the ride turned into a soaring sensation. He finally managed to gasp before letting out a whoop, laughing and hanging on as she tilted upwards to start gaining altitude with mighty wingbeats.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros angled for an updraft and soared higher, circling above the massive sweep of her wings to keep an eye on his alternate and a light thread of communing-sense on the dragon... nothing harsh enough to vie with her rider's.  "Isn't it great?" he called, hands cupped to his mouth to carry over the wind. There was nothing quite like flying, and doing it on the back of an actual dragon probably counted for like... nine thousand extra coolness points, all by itself.

fiduspawn-master: Tav couldn't stop smiling as he kept low to the dragon's back, hanging on as she climbed higher. He could barely hear over the rushing wind, but he glanced over at the flash of bronze, fluttering wings, laughing and letting go with one hand to pump his fist in the air in clear confirmation.

ad1ostoreador: A whoop that he might have learned from Gamzee, and Tavros made a dizzying swoop to plunge past the flying beast's outstretched neck, beneath her, then fight his way up again, grinning wildly and thoroughly windblown.  It wasn't often that he got to play midair with anyone but flapbeasts, especially someone who really appreciated the experience, and he was going to enjoy every minute of this while it lasted.

fiduspawn-master: He quickly grabbed on again, watching Tavros dive and swoop as the dragon evened out her angle of ascent. She let the currents catch in her wings like sails and slowly banked back towards the land again. Now she wasn't flying upwards, Tavros could finally sit up and look around, seeing the sea spread out and glittering below in the moonlight, and his hive, tiny in the distance, standing alone. He spread out his arms to feel the wind rushing past his whole body and took a deep breath of rarefied air. It tasted and smelled better than anything he could ever remember, and he let his eyes close briefly so he could just savor the moment.

ad1ostoreador: It was the kind of moment Tavros was content to let play out, for as long as his counterpart needed it. He kept pace with the dragon's flight, alternating diving glides with fluttering spirals higher, and maybe a brief game of something like tag, even, with subtle gusts of wind rising up to carry him along when he wasn't thinking too hard about it.

fiduspawn-master: The dragon flew in slow arcs, like a gentle roller coaster, nothing too fancy or fast in consideration for her rider. Tav laughed giddily, especially on the descents, relishing the weightless feeling as he clung to her back. Eventually she was flying over his hive and he let her start a slow, circular descent so that she could land, not wanting to push his luck with the magnificent beast. She wasn't his lusus or anything, and he already appreciated her helping with the drones. also he could feel his thighs and behind getting uncomfortably hot from her scales, probably should have thrown his blanket over her back or something.

ad1ostoreador: Tavros followed the dragon downward, there, grinning as they descended, and he would finally still into that physics-gone-slightly-flipped-sideways floaty hover, once she had come to a complete landing stop. "I can, uhh... lift you back down, the same way, if that's okay...?"

fiduspawn-master: Tha dragon hunkered down onto her belly once she'd gently landed, getting low to make dismounting easier. Tav squirmed a little in his seat, looking up to his alt and nodding quickly as he extended a hand "Uhhh, Yes please. Thanks."

ad1ostoreador: Once again, Tavros got a firm hold on his forearm--or both of them, if he offered the other, and then floated him up and off the dragon's neckridge, to carefully airlift him back to his chair, giving him time to get his legs situated before he set him completely down.  "All, um, good?"

fiduspawn-master: He held on with both hands, looking down as he was taken back to his wheeled device. He settled back in easily enough, shifting in his chair as he let go of his alt. He looked up at him with a smile, giving him a thumbs up "Yeah, Thanks!" The dragon was getting up again, sniffing around casually. 

"Heh, Man, That was... Wow, Heh"

ad1ostoreador: Tavros was still grinning, looking pleased and a bit relieved all at once, that his counterpart had both enjoyed the experience and not inadvertently injured himself in the process.  He dropped back to the ground, himself, landing on his feet and folding his wings back with a bit of a sigh to avoid being pushed about by the wind.  The phantom shimmer of a second set of wings evaporated, a moment later. "Yeah... I'm glad she didn't mind," he added, looking up at the dragon with a grateful wave.

fiduspawn-master: She sniffed in his direction before starting to wander off, preparing to lift off again and go back to whatever she'd been doing before.

"Heh, Yeahhh, Me too." He agreed, watching her start to take off, smiling wistfully.

ad1ostoreador: "I guess you do have a pretty, uh... thorough anti-drone defense system..."  He, also, watched the huge beast abscond, though not with quite the same note of wistfulness.

fiduspawn-master: "Heh, Well, It's definitely, Uhhh, Better than it used to be." he hummed, finally tearing his eyes away from the quickly shrinking white dot in the sky to smile at his guest. "Uhm, Thanks for helping me, That was really great..."

ad1ostoreador: "No problem... I'm glad it was fun," Tavros said, smiling back.  He'd had the inklings of the idea, and then the dragon had presented herself as an immediate opportunity.  It was certainly a welcome distraction from the faint, nagging itch of Gl'bgolyb's presence on this planet.  "Maybe we could, uh... do that again sometime..."

fiduspawn-master: "Yeah! Heh, But maybe, Uhh, Not too soon" She wasn't exactly a tame hoofbeast or anything. There was a faint redness along the horizon that hinted at the dawn that would come in the next few hours, and Tavros turned to head back inside now the dragon was out of sight.

(there was something a little different about that itch here too, less eldritch, more predatory, no less uncomfortable, especially this close to the sea.)

ad1ostoreador: Tavros nodded, glancing out toward that tint of color in the sky.  It was amazing how fast being back on Alternia, even for a visit, could remind him that the day was something to fear, not something to greet.  He moved to follow his alternate back inside the hive, picking up his poncho to re-secure it, on the way.  "I should, um, probably head back soon, I think..." He had one more stop off-planet to make, too.  Two if he braved an excess of crowding strangers to find Gamzee a better coat, while he was at it.

fiduspawn-master: Tavros spun around to face him, looking up at him with a slanted smile "Oh, Heh, Yeahhh, probably, It is getting pretty early." he acknowledged, glancing at the row of windows before rolling back over to start closing the curtains. "Uhh, Thank you for coming though! This was, Really nice... Oh, And I hope that Gamzee likes his present!" He added, looking back over his shoulder at him.

ad1ostoreador: "I'm sure he will," Tavros assured him, double-checking to make sure he'd put the fabric-wrapped little package in his sylladex.  It was there, as was the pot he'd come to collect, and he returned that smile crookedly.  "I'll, uh, see you around, yeah?  It was really nice to meet you in person..."

fiduspawn-master: He finished with the curtains and turned to face his alt as he was leaving, smiling more warmly and raising a hand in farewell. "Yes! See you around, Uhh, Tavros, Heh, It was nice to meet you too, And, Not as weird at the end."

ad1ostoreador: It was clearly necessary to offer a fist for a proper fist-bunp, there.  "Definitely not as weird at the end," he agreed, then gave a little wave of his own, and looked down to fiddle with the device on his wrist.  A moment later... fworp, and he was gone the same way he'd arrived.

fiduspawn-master: The fistbump was easily reciprocated and he watched his guest vanish into thin air.

[teamhook]

A Chapter a Day... Savage Heart CS AU

Yes, a chapter a day.

This story will be finished by the end of the month. :)

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the wonderful @ilovemesomekillianjones

Cover byt the amazing @xhookswenchx​

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 6: Deception

Milah is looking out the window in her room contemplating her wedding to August which is fast approaching. Her soon to be mother-in-law Cora is preparing everything to make sure the wedding is perfect for her son. Milah knows she has one thing to take care of before she says her I do's. She has some loose ends to tie up.

She enlists the assistance of her trusted maid to ensure that the dalliance with Killian did not leave her pregnant, and to help cover the fact that she no longer has her virtue intact.. In her short stay in Misthaven, she has heard of a healer that can help her with these details. The healer gives her some herbal tea that will solve the pregnancy issue if she is in fact expecting. To cover up the loss of her virginity she is given an animal's blood, the healer didn't specify which and she was not going to ask for specifics. She is not too excited about using it but desperate times call for desperate measures. Milah has all her bases covered. She is ready to become the lady of the manor. To be waited on hand and foot.

As she walks down the aisle, Milah casually glances at Emma. It is not the wedding Milah had wanted, but the look on Emma's face is worth it. Her cousin is such a hypocrite who can't hide her feelings, she's always going on about how truly happy she is about their wedding and how eager she is to finally be able to take her novice vows. All lies, Milah knows it. If only Emma could just be honest and not be a damn martyr, Milah thinks. The vows are exchanged, and Milah really tries to show some excitement..

With her Uncle David still gone and Emma at the convent, Milah decides to ask Snow to come live with them so she is not alone. If she is truly honest, it is a simple tactic to show to her new husband August and his judgmental mother Cora, that she has a good heart, especially since she had heard her mother-in-law only talk praises about Emma. She knows that if it had been up to Cora, August would have married selfless Saint Emma.

Milah settles into being August's wife. She looks at him while he sleeps, he is not Killian, but he will do. She misses Killian though, he was so good at pleasing her in bed, unlike the man that lays next to her. Things could be worse, she could have married beneath her. One of August's redeeming qualities is he enjoys lavishing her with expensive gifts.

Milah smiles to herself, she does love seeing Emma suffer. Days turn into weeks and soon it has been almost two months of marriage. He is dull and he just doesn't thrill her like Killian. Perhaps later she can find someone exciting and take him as a lover. Killian is irreplaceable in that area, pity he got captured, such a waste.

She should alleviate Emma's pain and tell her she truly did her a service by marrying August in her place. She really is not missing out on anything. However, Emma might have been extremely satisfied with having August as a lover, she is so frigid. She wouldn't know what to do with a real man if she ever got one. Milah snickers at the thought.

She walks around the large estate, avoiding her mother-in-law and limiting her time with August as she typically did. She uses the excuse of keeping Aunt Snow company to make sure she doesn't feel unwanted in the household.

One day the unexpected happens. Her maid tells her that Smee is on the outskirts of the estate with a message. Milah thinks it must be a letter from an imprisoned Killian and she quickly sets out to go meet with Smee.

Unfortunately for Milah, as she is leaving, she is seen by Emma who is there to visit her mother. Emma follows her and sees Smee hand her Killian's message. Unbeknownst to Milah, Emma wonders why Milah would be meeting with that man and decides to keep an eye on her.

Milah quickly reads the note and tells an anxious Smee she will go to Killian as soon as she can, but that she needs to be careful.

Flashback - The Road So Far

Killian Jones was the worst human around. The people of Misthaven were in a quandary when it came to the pirate captain. The higher class had quickly labeled him a thief, scoundrel, and the scum of the earth. The lower class saw a completely different man, simply a godsend. More like a blessing in disguise.

In the beginning, after his christening as Captain of the Jolly Roger he had truly earned his devious reputation. He had done it all. Pillaged and plundered without a thought to anyone else's needs. He had eagerly created an image to instill fear amongst his crew and other pirates to stop any mutiny attempts. What better way to control or motivate than fear? He had refused to be underestimated because of his young age.

Perhaps the first reminder of the humanity that still resided within him was a young girl he had met in his darkest time. The young girl's name was Kristinka; she had been orphaned at a very young age as well. Like him, she had no family to help her and was forced to learn to survive by any means.

She had been working in the tavern owned by his friend Tiny. The Golden Goose Tavern was exploding with the excitement of the crew of the Jolly Roger. They had just arrived for a night of celebration, she had offered him services that were not on the menu and he foolishly accepted. It didn't help that his crew had cheered and encouraged the deed.

She was only eighteen years old at the time and that was three years ago. He should have known better. He had just turned twenty-two and was eagerly trying to live up to the image of the pirate captain. Even then he knew he had made a mistake, it was bad form to lay with a lady one had no intentions of loving or marrying. They soon got to know each other better and became friends of sorts.

In the orphanage she had grown up in, there'd been a copy of her favorite book, Peter Pan. Although Tink had never learned to read, one of the nun's used to read to her behind the Mother Superior's back. Killian reminded her of a key character, and she had even given him the nickname Hook. That alone was an indication of how young she was when they first met.

As a boy, he had loved the story of Peter Pan also. He had prayed to be swiftly transported to Neverland to be able to escape his cruel reality. He began calling her Tink, short for Kristinka and for the fairy she reminded him of. She was not happy about the nickname but loved the camaraderie it afforded, she was always pouting when he would call her by that name.

He knew she'd had fallen in love with him early on, but he just didn't see her in a romantic light. She would only ever be a close friend, he could not give her his heart. Meeting Tink made him remember his youth and he soon the lower class saw him in a different light. To the ones that had no savior, no voice, he became their protector. Each time the local law tried to pin any sort of crime on Killian, the locals protected him. He began donating some of his ill-gotten riches to help provide for those who couldn't provide for themselves. He donated to the orphanage anonymously since he knew if the nuns realized where the money came from they would never accept it.

Present

By the time Killian returns to Misthaven months have passed. Bloody Arendelle prison is all Killian Jones can think. Yet he is happier than he has ever been. He has an older brother and soon he will marry Milah. He enters The Golden Goose Tavern with a confidence he had forgotten during his time in prison.

He doesn't even go home once he makes port. He just wants a bit of rum to welcome him home while Smee runs his errand to Milah.

Then he hears the news. "Countess Milah married August Booth," one of the fishermen says and continues with his story. "Her family almost missed out on the opportunity that comes with marrying someone with that name, who knows why the other girl wasn't the one that married him."

His heart shatters and a darkness creeps into him as his elven like ears perk up to that bit of information. At first, he thinks he has misheard… he must have. Milah couldn't have betrayed him like this, wouldn't have, they were to be married upon his return.

He approaches the fishermen and asks, "Oy, August Booth married the Countess Milah? I thought he was betrothed to the other Countess?"

One of the fishermen responds, "Aye, he did. In my opinion, he made the wrong choice, but I am partial to blondes."

"Sorry, mate. I didn't mean to intrude on your private conversation. In my line of work, information is power," Killian says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. His jaw clenches as he nods and walks away swiftly. He is angry. He wants to hurt someone; anyone will do at this point.

No, she would not dare betray him. Oh, there will be blood. He wants to inflict the same pain he is feeling. She will pay, they will all pay. He is shaking uncontrollably.

He has no idea how or when he reaches his home. He looks around the room at the mess he's made, glasses and bottles are broken, chairs and the wooden table are overturned, books have been torn to shreds and papers are scattered all over the normally tidy room.

"Smee! Come here!" Killian yells.

The stocky man approaches slowly while playing with his crimson hat. He had heard the Captain arrive and then the noise coming from the little office erupted.

He must have heard about the Countess marrying August Booth. "Sir, you are finally back," Smee says nervously.

Killian rolls his eyes in frustration. "Apparently you are a very observant man Mr. Smee. Now is there anything of importance that you have yet to tell me?"

"Sir, Countess Milah has married August Booth in your absence," Smee says to his Captain. "Sir, there had been rumors of your capture throughout the port cities. We didn't expect to see you again."

Killian smirks and responds, "Aye, I was captured by the Arendelle Navy and imprisoned alongside most of the crew, some were not so bloody lucky. Now, I do not recall any attempt from the lot of you trying to free us."

Smee's eyes go wide open. "Sir, I was told that there had been attempts to sway the authorities but they are not as easily convinced as the Misthaven officials."

"It matters not anymore. How did Milah end up marrying her cousin's betrothed?" Killian is really struggling to stay calm while he waits for the man's responses.

"The true story is not known, sir. All that is common knowledge is that Countess Emma joined the convent and that within a fortnight her cousin had married August Booth."

Killian scratches behind his ear and says, "I will write a message for her that you will figure out a way to have delivered to her. Is that understood?"

"Of course," Smee answers rapidly.

Killian turns to look for some paper to write the message in what is left of his office. The message is simple.

Milah, we need to talk.

KJ

She will know the note is from him and where to go, all that is left for him to do is wait. Several hours pass by the time Smee finally returns.

"It's about time, Mr. Smee. You know how much I abhor waiting."

"Captain getting the message to her was not an easy ordeal. She is living in the Booth Estate; I had to be extra careful," Smee replied as he played with his hat nervously.

Killian nods in agreement, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "Is it fair to assume you have been successful in your task?" Killian asks.

"Of course Sir, I would never fail you," Smee replies.

"Did she say anything?"

"All she said was that as soon as she could get away without arousing suspicion she would make her way to see you, Sir."

"Hmmm, wonderful, how very considerate of her," Killian hisses. "Did she look happy in her new role of wife to Booth? What was her reaction after reading the note?" Killian looks at Smee as he waits for the answer, dread in his heart.

"She seems content enough, she didn't seem unhappy. Though she did seem happily surprised after she had finished reading your note. She will come, I'm sure of it."

"She best not make me wait too long and force me to go looking for her. I'm sure her new rich husband will not like to know that he is enjoying my leftovers. She still has to answer for her betrayal."

Killian had started to lose his temper after Smee said that she seemed content. He'd been under the assumption she had been forced to marry August. The fact of the matter is simple. He knows she enjoys riches more than anyone else he has ever encountered and that reality has made him quickly realize that she may have entered into the marriage quite willingly and all for the wealth.

He'd never felt the need to flaunt his wealth. He'd only used it to his advantage when having the need to bribe some judge or another greedy corrupt official to look the other way, but never to enjoy an extravagant lifestyle.

Killian knew he would never be able to provide her with the riches and comfort that August had surrounded her with. Perhaps if that last venture had been successful he may have been able to compete with Booth's wealth, but now, he couldn't come close. He has wealth but not to that extent. He can give her a reasonable cozy life. She may have accepted that life before but now after having a taste of the lavish life Booth has to offer, he isn't so sure.

The problem is that he doesn't like to share. He is a pirate after all. Once upon a time he had cared for August. The little time he had spent in the Booth Estate as a boy, he had grown quite close to him. Too bad he had taken something that had been his. Perhaps a visit to see Archie for some Intel on August Booth is now in order.

Milah's family was still well respected and had gained some financial stability in recent years. Still, the marriage between Milah and August has benefited them a great deal already.

He has to be tactful in how he does things. He cannot let his anger blind him. He has to be smart about how he handles the situation from now on. He has an opportunity to get Milah back and maybe a small fortune.

They will sail away on the Jolly Roger once everything is over. His hand reaches his trimmed beard and strokes it as he plots and comes to a realization that he could use the friendship they once shared in their youth to get close to August and gain access.

Archie will happily help; he has tried to get him to leave the pirate's life in exchange for an honorable one for so long. He hates the idea of using Archie. Archie has been his only true friend for so long. He had even provided him with the most basic of education.

He knows his crew can help too, they are extremely loyal; but only because of the riches they have acquired since he became their Captain. As long as there is a big payout he can count on them for whatever he needs.

He will not lose his love. Maybe they can make a home in Arendelle with his brother.

Soon he will meet with Milah and let her know of his plans.

Tagging:

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones  @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke  @superchocovian  @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers​

[autumnpawtribe]

Just a moment in time - Vol'raka, Tiny, and Xiao Chun

Tiny had finally started to sleep long enough for her Papa and Ba to spend some more intimate time together.  It was a time to relax, and love, come together as a couple after so long apart.  Xiao laid against Vol, nuzzling into his neck in return to the trolls affections. "I love you so much, Vol... more than I ever thought I could." He whispered breathlessly still before giving a tiny chuckle. "I... did not hurt you, did I?" He finally asked, turning his head to kiss Vol's cheek and then gently press a kiss to his lips as he nuzzled their foreheads together. "No mah love."  He looked a bit sad that he hadn't been hurt, but kissed his mate on the top of the head softly.  "Ah be fine."  A soft chuckle accompanied the troll picking his mate up and tossing him over his shoulder.  "Ja gonna be crunchy furred.  Showah fer Xiao..." Xiao smiled and nodded. "I was worried, I think you are uh... bleeding in a few places." He said with a blush as he glanced down to Vol's thoroughly scratched up thighs as well as the few marks on his back. Before he could speak again, he squeaked in surprise as he was scooped up, clinging to his mate now as he was hoisted over his shoulder. "I miss being crunchy if it is from you..." He said with a little giggle as he hugged Vol's shoulder as he was carted off. "Nothin' wrong wit pain, lovah.  Ah crave et.  Ah'd say we fall asleep like dat, but Ah know dat any minute dat lil time bomb we got gonna wake up.  Ja take longah den me."  He swatted the pandaren on the ass just as he put him down.  "Get clean, ah gonna find pants.  Ah need a showah, get da tangles out mah hair an at least two houahs sleep." Xiao blushed a bit more, nodding. "I... almost forgot about your penchant for pain. I guess some part of me remembered otherwise I wouldn't have scratched you up like that." He said with a smile before squeaking in surprise as his ass was smacked. He turned around to lean up and give Vol a long, loving kiss before he could leave. "I... have never been happier than I am when I am with you. Never forget that. I promise, I will be here this time."  He said against Vol's lips, hugging him hard before sighing contently and pulling away to head off and do his oh so secret cleaning routine to keep his fur as wonderfully soft and plush as his mate had always known it to be. "Ja can scratch me up all ja evah want."  He'd never really let Xiao know how deep his want of pain went, one day maybe.  "Bettah be.  Scoot."  He busied himself with changing  and reswaddling their daughter and sitting next to her hammock to watch her sleep, singing another lullaby.  "Gotta sound proof ja room before we know et, hmm?" Xiao wandered off as his mate told him, the water running in the me functional but far less fancy shower since this wasn't the main home. Maybe an hour or so later, Xiao came back out, fur dry and wonderfully fluffy, grinning like a fool as he entered their daughter's room to find his mate. "Hey..." He nearly purred, love glowing in his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. "Ja finally done...  longah den usual."  He sat in a chair, smiling as she ate and smirking.  "Second bottle en an houah.  Should warn ja.  Troll babies eat like big orc mons.   Bottomless pits mah ma'da once call em.  Get used ta dis, hmm?" Xiao chuckled a little. "There was more to clean up than normal. I also let my fur grow out a little more than normal so it takes longer to dry over the vent." He moved to sit across from Vol on the bed. "Do we have enough milk for her? You said it is goat milk, right?" "Ja.  Goats be outside at dis house, da Vale and Hillsbrad.  Da Admiral say he can get a Tauren fer helpin' out.  She get fed, Get ever'ting ah can be gettin' er. "  He said a few words in Zandali, trying to teach her even at that age.  "Yuutee Saakes, Zutopong.  Skam m italaf deh'yo ackee..." "Good, the last thing we would want is our little girl to go hungry, though I know you would never let that happen." He smiled, patting the bed. "Here, you two should come over here. Let her Ba feed her?" He asked with a hopeful smile. "What was that you said in Zandali just now, anyway? I still know... well, next to none of it, unfortunately." "Shadowhuntah, Daughtah.  Just a Hungry lil ting."   He stood and let Xiao hold the girl who was none too pleased about moving, and not eating right then and there.  "Ja get ta watch 'er a bit.  Showah."  Booping her daughter softly on the nose and doing the same to Xiao, he went to get himself clean, Xiao getting to deal with a whiny, amber eyed girl.  If Xiao looked, he'd see Vol's features, no doubt who sired her.  Amber eyes, the same green and gold hair, with the barest bright highlights of blue, and the same strong nose.  She looked up toward him, too young to focus on anything or properly see him. Xiao happily took the little bundle, cradling her against his bare chest, having only put on some loose linen pants after his shower. "Do not worry, I have her." He said with a smile as Vol headed off to take his now. He stared down at her now, having some true quality time with his daughter. Seeing his mate in her eyes, her hair, so much of him in every part of her. It actually made a tear come to his eye. He whispered to her in Pandaren now, letting the girl hear him speak in something other than his stilted and heavily accented Orcish. "My dearest daughter.. I will give you anything and everything I can... your papa and I, we will give you the world. You are the gift we never saw coming, the missing piece we never knew we were missing. Some day, you will have a brother or a sister. Your life will be filled with happiness, adoration, praise... and above all, love. This I promise you." He kissed her forehead gently, a single tear dripping down onto her cheek and causing him to chuckle as he leaned up and noticed it. "A little salty rain never hurt, hm?" He continued to murmur, wiping off the tear with the fur of his thumb. "You have not seen it yet, but your home... our home, the place we will eventually be a family, forever... your room will be everything you have ever dreamed of. Everything for our baby girl." It was then he gasped. "Vol!" He called out in Orcish now. "I have an idea, we need to talk when you are done showering!" He sounded excited, but his smile faded as he cringed, the loud noise making the poor girl fuss and cry. "Sorry, my lovely." He cooed in Pandaren again. "Ba is sorry, little one, shhh, it is alright. Here." He shook her bottle a bit, jostling the milk and getting her attention with the warm sustenance, quickly quieting her as she went back to drinking happily. "Talk bout what, hmm?"  He came out, clothed in a towel around his waist and one going at his hair.  "Et wait until ah able ta find pants.  Ever' tin' be down at da Vale or Hillsbrad."  Green locks were flopped over on one side and he had freshly shaved the sides of his head down to the skin.  "Gonna need ta clean tings up en 'ere."  He looked around, the room his daughter was sleeping in for the time the same she was born in.  "Ja gonna teach 'er Pandaren, ah gonna teach 'er Zandali.  Gonna get REshka ta teach her Thalassian..  an ALL of us be teachin' orcish." Xiao practically wiggled in his spot on the bed. "Maybe I do not want you to find pants." He said with a little grin. "Remember that... illusion on the top of the canopy in our bed in the Vale? I was thinking for her room, I could have Kyl do the entire room as an illusion. Instead of just normal wallpaper, we could have... an entire scene. Maybe a waterfall, a beautiful view, stars on the ceiling. I am not sure exactly. Ooh, maybe we could do a view from stranglethorn! Something to remind her of where she came from? I wanted to ask because, well, you said you had investments. I was hoping you might have some excess laying around. It would not cost nearly as much as the house upgrades did, the illusions were fairly cheap, actually. The thing that did the most damage, gold wise, was the engineered magically contraptions like the shower, the self-cleaning bed, and all of the, well, everything in the stables. I just thought, you know, it would be calming and beautiful?" "No.". He dragged the towel over his head and looked to Xiao intently.  "Not paying Kyl Dem prices.   He gonna learn ta haggle like a troll.   His price took ja  away.   Not happening again.   Stranglethorn be where she concieved.  Ja really tink ah wanna be reminded of dat?".  He wasn't made just matter of fact.  "We look into et, aftah ah surah day dat fuckin snakr not gonna slitha enta ouaj bed an kill me.  She not gonna appreciate et fer a long while.  Patience, lil love.  When ettime, we talk more on et." Xiao blinked. "No?" Then he heard the rest and nodded. "Kyl may haggle, honestly I do not know. I... did not think to try." He blushed a bit, never having been one to haggle. Then he frowned a bit sadly at the mentions of Stranglethorn. "Sorry, I thought Stranglethorn might be good, I didn't know that was where it happened." He shook his head. "I just did not think it through I guess." He said as he peered down at Tiny now, biting his lower lip and feeling a bit silly for his idea now. "We gonna figuah out sumpin, lil love.  Fer now, she not gonna care ef da walls be all white or just stone.  She gonna be en ouah room till we can get sometin so we can hear when she need us.". With a small kiss on his love's nose and a smile, he whispered softly.  "Ah not mean ta sound harsh.  Ja not know where dis all happen.  We both do thinking on et.  Sides, where she come from be Pandaria.  Dis da land of er birth, ja?"

[obsessedwithanoctopus]

Art/Fic Trade

My half of the art/fic trade with @yanagisawa. At almost 2,500 words, this got way out of hand. I apologize for this monster.

The room was silent but for the sound of chalk hitting the chalkboard, the furious tap-tap-tap intensifying as Yanagisawa’s hand flew across the board. He had abandoned his calculator long before, relying instead upon his impeccable mental calculations. As fast as his wrist moved, scribbling line upon line of mathematical jargon, his mind whirled even faster, almost too fast for his hands to keep up. With a maniacal glint to his eyes and dark circles underneath them, his hair messy and unkempt, a rough layer of stubble graying his chin, he looked every part the mad scientist.

This time, for sure!

Suddenly, his brain ground to a halt. His hand stilled, hovering just above the chalkboard’s surface.

No, that formula...it wouldn’t work there.

He wracked his brain for an alternative, sure there must be one. He’d come so far, after all, certainly there was something! He gripped the chalk harder, nearly snapping it in two. He was on the right track, he knew he was, so what was he missing?

Seconds stretched into minutes, yet his brilliant brain offered no solution to the problem.

In desperation, Yanagisawa flung the chalk from him, a high-pitched tink! sounding from where it met the wall. Angrily, he shoved the chalkboard away from him, the loud crash of it falling backward reverberating throughout the tiny room.

Yanagisawa collapsed to the floor, his head in his hands, as if with his hands he could draw from his addled brain the answers he sought.

In despair, he looked up at the calendar above his desk. It was March ninth.

He was running out of time.

“Dinner,” Yanagisawa announced, opening the door without so much as a knock.

The room he entered was a bedroom, a cozy little place with not much else besides a double-bed and two nightstands, one placed on either side of the bed. A lamp sat on one of them, burning brightly and casting a calming glow throughout the room. In the bed, the former assassin once known as the God of Death sat propped up with pillows, engrossed in a book. He looked up expectantly when the scientist entered, a soft smile curling his lips.

“About time,” he quipped, setting his book to the side.

Yanagisawa scowled. “Is that any way to speak to your savior?”

“You know I’m only kidding,” the God of Death smirked at his disgruntlement.

Yanagisawa grumbled but drew closer anyway, bringing with him a bowl of soup. He set the meal on the God of Death’s lap.

The God of Death wrinkled his nose as he eyed the soup disgustedly. “Again?”

“Yes, again. Do you want to accelerate the anti-matter’s cell division?”

The God of Death avoided his gaze, mumbling that he didn’t, and reluctantly accepted the proffered spoon. The soup sloshed slightly as he used the spoon to ladle some for himself, raising it hesitantly to his lips.

“So...any progress?”

Yanagisawa clenched his fists, gritted his teeth.

That was all the answer the God of Death needed. The spoon clinked as he set it down, letting it rest in the bowl. When he looked up at Yanagisawa, his eyes were resolute, any trace of the playfulness there minutes before long gone by now. “Maybe it’s time to stop.”

“No!” Yanagisawa objected, surprised by the vehemence of his own outburst. “I’m almost there. I’m so close, just a--”

“Kotarou.”

Yanagisawa paused mid-ramble, surprised to hear his given name. It wasn’t often that he was called that.

The God of Death’s stare was steady, unwavering, locked on Yanagisawa’s own. “It’s fine. I have no regrets.”

No, no, it isn’t fine at all…

The God of Death broke their stare to put his soup on the nightstand, shifting over ever so slightly and patting the bed beside him. “Kotarou, please.” His gaze was pleading. “You look exhausted. Come to bed.”

Yanagisawa turned briskly, his back to the former assassin.

“No.”

He couldn’t look. Not now, not like this. If he looked, he might really give in to his requests. “I won’t do it,” Yanagisawa reiterated, voice resolute. He clenched his fists at his sides, hunching his shoulders. “This is no time for sleep. I said I’d save you, and that is exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Kotarou!”

But the scientist was beyond the reach of words. He had made a promise to himself, and to this man before him, promises he had no intention of breaking. He had made up his mind long ago.

“I’m going to save you,” Yanagisawa repeated, determination in his eyes, in his heart, and even in his step as he strode purposefully from the room, deaf to the God of Death’s protests.

I’m going to save you.

No, no, no!

Yanagisawa hurled a stack of manila folders at the wall, its papers flying out and scattering across the room, carpeting the floor.

A year of research. A year.

He had been slaving away at this task for a year.

He chucked another folder at the wall, then a box of chalk.

A year. And nothing.

A binder went flying.

There was no problem too great for the esteemed Yanagisawa Koutarou to solve. With his brains, even the most complex concepts could be unraveled and understood.

“Dammit!”

All he needed was a little more time.

When he ran out of things to throw, things to project his anger and desperation onto, he finally sank to the floor, tears of frustration—or even, dare he think it, sorrow—threatening to spill.

This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. Yanagisawa didn’t lose.

All he needed was time.

But time he had not. He was fresh out.

It was March twelfth.

Lost somewhere in his own inner turmoil, Yanagisawa didn’t hear the labored steps that approached him from behind.

“Why the long face?” inquired a rather cheeky voice, seemingly from out of nowhere.

Yanagisawa almost had it within him to fire back a retort, but any words he might have had died in his throat when he turned to the owner of the voice. The God of Death’s posture was not his usual confident stance, cocky smile playing at his lips. Instead he leaned heavily against the wall, his chest rising and falling a bit too fast for a simple trip down the hallway.

Yanagisawa rose immediately, rushing to the other man to offer support. “What are you doing out of bed?!” he demanded, so shocked that he forgot to suppress the concern in his voice.

“Just checking on you,” he replied, voice strained, try as he might to hide it.

Yanagisawa only sighed, hoisting one of the God of Death’s arms over his shoulders, supporting the brunt of his weight. On any other day, he might have felt a bit standoffish; maybe it was the fatigue getting to him, but he felt no desire to fight or banter. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Kotarou, I...” the God of Death began, once they were halfway down the hallway.

“Hm?”

“I...I don’t have much time left.”

The words pierced Yanagisawa to his very core, and he tried not to stop dead in his tracks. The God of Death’s condition had worsened drastically over the last few days, certainly, but he was fighting it. As long as he didn’t overexert himself or do anything stupid, then maybe he could buy them some time.

Ever since Yanagisawa had discovered the catastrophic effects of antimatter on a given organism, he had spent nearly every waking hour trying to find a way to cease the rapid particle acceleration.

After many hours of study, he’d formulated an elixir that brought the explosion probability down to one percent. It was a huge accomplishment, but Yanagisawa soon found that while the explosion may have been stopped, the ultimate death of the host was still inevitable.

Yanagisawa laid the God of Death as carefully as he could onto the mattress in their bedroom. Yanagisawa cast him a long look, memorizing every line of his face. He had tried everything. He was still trying. So why, then, couldn’t the antimatter host be saved? If the explosion could be stopped, then it stood to reason that the death could be too.

He was about to turn around and head back to his lab space, when suddenly a hand gripped his wrist, weakly but surely.

“Please, stay with me,” the God of Death begged.

Yanagisawa wasn’t sure what made him comply this time. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the way that the God of Death called out to him, or maybe because he knew deep down that this would be the last time.

Wordlessly, he sat beside him on the edge of the bed. The God of Death’s grip slackened but never left Yanagisawa’s wrist completely.

“Thank you,” the God of Death said, smiling pitifully.

Yanagisawa scoffed, nearly choking on the noise. “What for?”

“This past year has undoubtedly been the best of my life. I had so much fun.” Slowly, he withdrew his hand from Yanagisawa’s wrist, laying it gently on top of his hand instead. “Thank you for giving me this second chance.”

Yanagisawa didn’t know what to say; words failed him. A strange pressure was building in his chest, pushing up in his throat, constricting his breath.

The God of Death gave his hand a squeeze.

The reality of the situation hit Yanagisawa like a brick: fully and without mercy. This was the end, wasn’t it?

“I’ve failed you,” Yanagisawa blurted, eyes downcast, hands clenched. Teeth gritted, voice leaden with the impossible weight of regret. “How can you say such rosy words when I--”

The God of Death took Yanagisawa’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. He shook his head subtly but surely. “I have no regrets. I’ve already lived much longer than I would have ever guessed. In that time, I’ve gained many happy memories, more than I’ll ever need, I’m sure.” He chuckled a bit at that.

Yanagisawa was not to be reconciled. “But if only I—if I had found a cure, then you could have had many more!”

“Maybe,” the God of Death conceded, his expression thoughtful. “But even without that, I am content.”

“How--”

The God of Death cut him off with a single, meaningful look. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend my final moments with.”

“No--!”

“Besides,” the God of Death continued, “In the span of a year, I’ve managed to catch up on a lifetime of happy memories. It’s all thanks to you, Kotarou. I never believed I could be this happy, much less deserving of it,” he chuckled, the action sending tremors through his whole body. “I’m so full of it, I fear it might come tumbling out of my ears if I so much as sneeze.”

Yanagisawa cracked a rueful smile despite himself. Typical Guinea Pig, making jokes even on his deathbed.

The God of Death continued to blabber on, probably elaborating on some happy memory the two of them had shared. Yanagisawa tried to listen, he really did; in fact, all he wanted was to hang onto every word.

However, Yanagisawa’s brain was sidetracked by the way the God of Death’s voice was starting to slur. If his complexion looked pale before, it was deathly now.

It seemed as though the organ failure was setting in, Yanagisawa noted with growing dread. When the God of Death had stumbled into his lab hours before, it was apparent that the process had already been set in motion, but to see his condition deteriorating so quickly was jarring.

In no time at all, the former assassin’s breathing became labored, each breath becoming just that much harder to take.

“Hey, take it easy,” Yanagisawa instructed, trying to keep some measure of dignity in his words. Despite his best efforts, his voice sounded pleading, even to himself.

The God of Death didn’t respond, simply closing his eyes and directing all his concentration towards breathing.

Yanagisawa bit the inside of his lip. If his condition was already this advanced, then by his estimation, they had less than an hour.

Yanagisawa stayed by his side the whole time, watching helplessly as the man before him drew shallower and shallower breaths, feeling like more of a failure with each passing second. Honor and prestige be damned, if he couldn’t even save one man, then what kind of scientist was he? The worst kind, he was sure.

“Thank you,” the God of Death reiterated, forcing the words out through a constricted chest.

“Don’t talk,” Yanagisawa shushed him, his own chest feeling tight, but for an entirely different reason.

The God of Death ignored him. “Really, thank you for everything,” he sucked in a particularly ragged breath. “I love you so much, Kotarou.”

“Hey!” Yanagisawa shouted, lunging toward him. “Stay with me!” Was this it? His heart somersaulted in his chest. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Abandoning any and all pretenses, he climbed atop the bed, gathering the frail man in his arms. His breathing had grown positively ragged.

“Stay with me!” Yanagisawa shouted, a sob creeping into his voice. “Hey!”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Right before him, he was slipping away.

“Please, I love you!”

Despite his state, the God of Death managed a small smile, and the look that lit up his face--Yanagisawa knew he would remember it forever.

“I love you too, Kotarou.”

It was the first time Yanagisawa had said those words. Usually it was the God of Death who started it, and Yanagisawa who answered with a “yeah, yeah,” a “sure,” and if he was feeling especially generous, a “me too.”

Now Yanagisawa wished he had told him more often.

The God of Death’s body suddenly leaped in his arms, spasming as his harsh breathing became almost too painful to watch, as if he was trying to escape his own body’s failure.

And then, suddenly, it stopped. His eyes glassed over, and Yanagisawa watched as the spark of life left his eyes. He wasn’t one to believe in souls and all that, but whatever had been the God of Death he’d gotten to know over the past two years was gone now.

In shock, in sorrow, both and everything at this point, he couldn’t tell, he stared at the lifeless doll in his arms, still warm. And then the tears started, springing from somewhere deep within, a well of frustration and pain and could-have-beens. He clutched the cooling body to his chest.

If only he hadn’t spent all his time on that futile research and had enjoyed his time with him instead; if only he had worked harder, had thrown himself headlong into the research, had found a cure.

If only…

If only…

If only…

In the empty silence, surrounded only by fruitless research and wasted time, Yanagisawa bid farewell to his greatest success and greatest failure, now left truly, truly alone with nothing but himself and his regrets.

[fairyshuuu]

Redamancy Pt7

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader x Jongin  Length: 3k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Jongin pov | Part 11 | Part 12 |

“Y/N…”

You turn around in surprise to hear your name, eyes widening slightly as you took in the person in front of you. Sehun was glaring down at you, his face set in a deep frown, before he takes a step in your direction. Your eyes move to the ground, shoulders lowering with his heavy gaze on you.

“Where were you?”

“I- I went to take a walk. Couldn’t sleep.”

Sehun makes a tutting noise, walking over to come stand in front of you, his legs now in your sight. “You are a horrible liar and you know it. Where did you go?”

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair in frustration. You know Sehun was just trying to do good, but he was scolding you like you were still a small child. “It doesn’t matter, alright. Let it go, Sehun. I’m here now and I’m safe.” You look up when it stays silent from his side. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, and you huff, crossing your arms halfway over your stomach. 

When he speaks, his voice is softer, but also more demanding, making you tilt your head up. “Hand it over.”

“What?”

“I’m not playing around, Y/N. Hand it over, now.”

“I don’t know what you-”

You almost growl when Sehun reaches forward, hand darting into your pocket before you can pull away. Behind you, Jongin gasps, but you are too shocked yourself to register it. When Sehun leans back, he’s now holding a small pouch in his large hand, fingers curling around it carefully. You jump when Jongin suddenly speaks up, his lips in a tight line. “Sehun-”

“Don’t, Jongin. I know you know she was lying as well. I’m not gonna sit here until she gets hurt.” He then turns to you, pushing his hair out of his face. “As for you, you’ll get this back later, that I promise. But right now, I don’t trust you to think of rational ideas.”

You scoff slightly, turning sideways. “I’m not a child anymore.”

Sehun suddenly smiles at your whiny tone, his hand resting on your shoulder. “I know. Did I ever treat you like this when you were?”

Despite your anger, you could feel your lips twitching with amusement as he starts chuckling. “Just let go of me, you.”

He does, and you smooth down your clothes, brushing off some of the dust from earlier before Kyungsoo walks around the corner. He smiles at all of you, his hands casually pushed in his pockets. “Hey.” You can’t help but smile at your friend, his face written with full amusement as he takes in your angry stance, your arms crossed and glaring daggers up at Sehun. “Dinner is almost ready. Come. We’re making a campfire.”

--

You sigh and push your hair out of your face, sitting up straighter and looking around the small room. It was too warm. The sounds of the sea were calming, but you longed to see it right now, to feel the breeze wash away your worries. You get up and silently open the wooden door, being careful not to wake anyone. The big campfire that was happily burning just a few hours ago was now reduced to a few smoldering coals, glowing in the dark. You had had a nightmare again, this one more concerning than the last. 

You had seen Baekhyun, his hands dripping with blood. You had seen Jongin and Sehun and Kyungsoo, beaten and bruised, on their knees in the grass. You had seen small children, like the little boy, crying out of his family. Minseok, a pained expression on his face as they came to invade the island. Why did everyone seem to underestimate these men? They were trained killers.They plundered and hurt for fun, for excitement. They wouldn’t stop to listen to your pleas, why would they.

You sigh and let your feet carry you to the side of the village, an open view of the clearing. Even though the sun was completely gone, the meadow was illuminated by the soft silver glow of the moon, striking in the night sky. The long grass waves in the gentle breeze, the silver making it look like the waves of the sea crashing down. You let your mind wander. What were you doing here, really? Sure, you had come because Tink told you there was an emergency, but you should stop kidding yourself. You wouldn’t just drop your life like that if it were anyone else, would you? But it was Peter. Your Peter. And when you thought he needed you, you dropped everything to help him. Would he do the same for you? If it had been a couple of years ago, you wouldn’t have doubted that he would, but now you were not to sure.

You sigh as you walk through the grass, the long tendrils running between your fingers. You walk until you find yourself at the edge of the island, not too far out from the village. The island ran of straight down a huge cliffline, 100 feet down. You breathe in the smell of the water beneath you, clashing against the black rock face, the smell of the grass, the smell of the forest to your right. Your feet are bare as you put out your foot and run it along the edge of the cliff carefully. Then, you sit down with a deep breath, feet hanging down over the edge. You are remembered of your promise to Jongin.

What would happen if you couldn’t fix this? What if they kept ageing at an inhuman rate? What if all of this is your fault? The waves clashing seemed to be an affirmation of the thoughts coming up. A ripple in the water face, gentle and barely noticeable at first, drifting and moving, growing bigger and bigger, slowly taking on an immense place in your mind and then crashing down on everything you hold dear, breaking tiny pieces of security which you once thought you had. As the wind picks up and blows your hair out of your face, the grass behind you moves.

You don’t need to turn around to know someone is approaching. The steps come to a halt and the long legs beside you bend and move to sit down next to you. You now turn to face the person next to you. Chanyeol. His dark hair was blowing every side, but he didn’t seem to care, or notice. His eyes were on the ocean in front of you, breathing in deeply like you were before. Something about the sea must be calming. His face is being given a silver shine, casting on his hair, his nose, lashes, lips. Then, slowly, his eyes find yours.

“The thought of war- it keeps me up.”

“Me too.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

He turns to the front again, placing his hands on his thighs. “Do you feel involved?”

“I suppose I-I feel responsible in a way.”

He stays quiet for a bit, eyes following the movement of the waves. “But you’re not, are you?”

“For what happened, no. For Baekhyun-” You trail off and sigh, wagging your legs from side to side.

“I don’t think you’re responsible.” You look up at him, a slight frown on your face. “You might not believe it, but me and Baekhyun were always close. Before Wendy, before you. We were best friends. He used to visit the village every day, to play with me or Jongdae, the other lost boys as well.” He stops to turn more to you. “He’s not- he’s not incapable of loving, that’s not it. You’ve seen it in him, I’m sure he loved you. I’m sure he meant it when he said he did, but-”

“He never said it.” You cut in, voice soft and careful.

“What?”

“He never said he loved me. I did all the time. He never said it back. But you’re right, I still knew. He didn’t have to say it when he made it so clear through his actions.”

Chanyeol pauses for a second, scanning the side of your face as you look to the front. Then, he deflates slightly, running his hand through his hair. “It’s difficult for him. He’s had a lot of companions in the past. Baekhyun became Peter in 1889. He’s lived through a lot of generations. Wendy wasn’t the first one. Some before her were friends, some crushes, some were more learning experiences for him than anything else. Never lovers though. You were the first. I guess it scared him. But he knew he couldn’t be without you anymore. I still remember the night he told me. He said to me ‘Chanyeol, I know you won’t get it, and I don’t either. But I will follow her to the end of the world. I don’t know why.’ He was a smart kid for a fourteen-year-old. I was older than him back then but I didn’t understand his decision. I guess I do now.”

“That still doesn’t make me any less responsible.”

“Loving someone isn’t a choice you make. But choosing to act on that love, like Peter did, was his own decision. He’s responsible, not you.”

You release a deep breath and scan the horizon. Maybe he was right, maybe not. At this point you weren’t even sure if Peter loved you still. You gently shake your head, no, that was a lie. Baekhyun loved you still, it was oozing out in every glance, every touch, every breath. The question was just if that still mattered now. Maybe Peter was pushing you away for a reason. “Aren’t you worried?”

“About what?”

“The- war, the ageing, the pirates.”

“Sometimes. It worries me on nights like these, yes.” He nods, looking at you when he continues. “ I guess that that comes with being an adult.”

“I guess so… Maybe I see why Peter didn’t want to leave.”

“Maybe.”

You don’t move as the wind picks up. You barely blink as Chanyeol pulls you into his side, letting his jacket fall around you as he tucks you under his arm. “You’ll get sick.”

The two of you just sit there for a while, looking at the waves below your feet. Chanyeol has a comforting presence somehow. You can feel your anxiety slowly slip out of you. After what feels like both an eternity and a second, the two of you walk back to the village. It was still deep in the night, moon lighting the both of you up. The coals were completely out now. The village was still silent as you two walk between the houses. Suddenly, a cough makes the two of you turn around.

“Y/N? Chanyeol?”

Jongin is standing with his arms crossed over his chest, looking from between you and Chanyeol, to rest on Chanyeol’s face with a scowl.

“Sorry. Did we wake you, Nini?”

“Don’t call me that.”

You flinch slightly from the edge in his voice. “I’m sorry, Jongin I don’t-”

“I will talk to you later. For now,” He sighed, turning to Chanyeol, who was looking just as confused as you were, “I want to talk to you.” Chanyeol gently let you from under his jacket and took a step in the direction of the shorter male. “I don’t know what you are doing but-”

“Woah, Jongin. It’s not like that. Chanyeol and I couldn’t sleep so we talked for a bit.”

“I asked you to-”

“Stay out of it? Yeah, well, don’t pull Chanyeol into whatever this is.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what is this?”

“I was just worried about you.”

“I appreciate it, Jongin, but I don’t need it.”

“Fine. What do you want me to do then?”

“What?”

“Tell me. Don’t you know what you do?”

“I don’t do anything.”

“You don’t…”

“Why are you being like this. If I didn’t know better, I would swear you are jealous.” Jongin’s eyes fall to the ground as he freezes. You stare at him for a second, taking in his posture before taking a step back. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

Jongin breathes out a laugh, bringing his eyes back to yours. You gasp as you look back into them. His eyes were filled with more emotion than you had ever seen in one person. Care, sadness, guilt, love, pain. All these emotions that were threatening to overspill, so real and familiar that you wonder if they have always been there. “You don’t know do you?”

“Know what, Jongin?”

“I-I was always there, no?”

“You were always there. Longer than I can imagine.”

“But you never saw me. It was always Baekhyun. Baekhyun, my friend, my brother. How could I do that to him? I couldn’t. So it was always him. I wanted to protect you.” You don’t answer, instead taking a step closer towards him, reaching out for his hands. “And then, you left. I was right there when the two of you left. Right here, without you or Peter. I kept my mouth shut to protect Peter and to keep you both, but instead I lost you two both.”

“I’m sorry, Nini. I am, I just-”

“You love him, I know.”

“I’m confused. Hurt.”

“So am I. But I think you should know that I’m in love with you, always was. So yes, I’m jealous.”

Chanyeol breathes out behind you, making you turn around, a guilty look on your face. He sees, and smiles back softly. “I think I should let you guys alone for a bit. Goodnight, Jongin. Goodnight, Y/N.”

Jongin takes a step closer to you when the taller man disappears behind the huts. He sighs, rubbing his forehead once, before his hands carefully find your shoulders, gently stroking them up and down with his thumbs.

“Y/N?”

You look up at him, his eyes finding yours, filled with guilt and pain, and you can’t help but shy away from him, his hands dropping beside his body limply. “I need time to think. I- I don’t-”

Jongin doesn’t speak, just nods, taking a step back with a sad smile, before waving you a silent goodnight and walking off, leaving you behind in a puddle of emotions. You run your fingers through your hair painfully hard. You needed space. You couldn’t be here right now. Before you can stop yourself, your legs are carrying you away from the village, the strands of grass whipping back against your legs.

--

You found yourself again when you got to the far edge of the island, the one closest to the ocean. Here the cliffside was only a good 10 feet high. Still too high for any pirates to get up, but here you felt as if you were actually almost on the beach, the wind carrying drops of salty water to hit your face. You breathe in deep, enjoying the way the cold air stings your lungs, the sky still pitch black. You look up slowly, eyes finding the two familiar stars glowing back at you. The tears you had pushed back earlier are suddenly back, burning behind your eyes as you try your very best to blink them back.

Your feeling are in scrambles, your heart screaming at you. What you had told Jongin was true. You were hurt, confused, and terribly tired. You loved Baekhyun. He had been your first love, and despite everything that had happened, you always would love him. There was no point in denying it. Baekhyun, however, had changed. He wasn’t your Baekhyun anymore, and facing that hurt. And now suddenly Jongin loved you? You sigh, playing with the hem of your shirt. That was a lie. You knew he always did, even maybe if he never confirmed it. He was always there, protecting you, caring for you. And while Jongin might have not been your first love, he was here. He was here with you, and Baekhyun wasn’t.

Did you love Baekhyun? No doubt. Did you love Jongin? Of course. Did you love him as much as you had loved, and maybe still loved, Baekhyun? Probably not. Could you? With time, yes. You sigh again, rubbing your eyes as they blink slowly, sleep suddenly catching up with you. The cliffside is silent, the only sound being the rustling of the waves rolling back and forth. When you blink again, you suddenly freeze. A small sound catches your attention. It doesn’t sound like a pixie or a mermaid, and that makes you turn around. There is no one in the open space behind you, though you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. It sounded from the water. Carefully, you walk over to the edge, bending down slightly to peer over the rock into the water. It was dark, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Then, the sound is there again, and you strain your neck to look for the source. It almost sounded like someone whistling. At that moment, something flies up from the darkness below you. It all happens so fast, you can barely blink before a rope is tossed around your shoulders, pulling you forward. You try to pull back but you’re already falling before you can register it and are smacked down in the water with a gasp. You groan as a sting spreads across your limbs from the fall, before you can feel yourself close your eyes. That is all you can see before you pass out, the black spots in your vision taking over completely.

--

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There we go! The story is finally picking up again after all the feelings. Two chapters in as many days, I’m on a roll. If you want to be (un)tagged for this series, just shoot me an ask or a message! @baekfanapleintemps @yeollieollie @spacedoutlover @baek-fruit 

[yourdevilwolf-blog]

If you could understand...

“Stupid, Stupid...STUPID.”

The loud noises of Stranglethorn Vale pierced the humid night; the sound of birds, tigers, and Loa knew what else inhabited it’s jungles surrounding the small, rather disgruntled hexxer. Zandali was uttered under a thick wooden mask as Ether once again circled the same tree for the millionth time this night, still too stubborn to admit he was lost.

Lost, in more ways then one.

The tiny elf bit his lip as he crossed his arms in front of a very slender, yet muscular chest, his beads swaying and jingling with his erratic motions, turning one way then another, too deep into the jungle to simply turn back towards camp. His stomach swayed with sickness, chest and heart tightening as the fought back the tears that stung at his eyes; he and Dey had fought again.

And as always - it was his fault. 

Ether had not understood the rogue’s words, and with more confusion came more anger, until the pair were shouting and yelling at each other from across the campfire, the hexxer taking off towards the jungle in a fit of rage. 

And now he was lost.

Ether knew Dey was a patient man, he had to be to deal with the dancer’s bullshit on a day to day basis, but he also knew Dey had his buttons, and Ether? He seemed very good at pushing those buttons with a tiny angry foot, over and over again until the rogue finally snapped; leading to the position he was in now. 

It wasn’t until Ether had trekked angrily half way through the jungle, that he realized he was wrong, and Dey hadn’t meant what he said the way the hexxer thought he had, his mistranslated mind finally wrapping around the meaning of his husband’s words with a heart sick feeling. 

Why? Why did he have to be so damn stupid? Why couldn’t he understand? If he could just understand and be smarter, he could be a better mate. Tears began to well up in his eyes again as he wiped them hastily with a slender hand, sobs resounding within his throat as he walked without a known destination. In that moment; Ether hated himself. Dey had been patiently teaching him since day one: was it truly too much to simply stop and ask the man what he meant without spitting fire? This was the man he loved, the man he slept with every night, the man who could make love to him with a single glance; Dey was his everything. 

So, why? 

Why couldn’t he just be...

He stopped suddenly, the thought halting his walking as lifeless look overcame his pale violet orbs..

Why..

couldn’t..

he...

just...

be...

normal....? 

Wouldn’t Dey be so much happier, with someone....like that? Someone who understood him, who didn’t get angry over meaningless things? Visions of Dey with another man who was better then him, in his mind, filled his senses and he bent at the middle as he used a nearby palm tree for support, his stomach was threatening to wretch as he covered his mouth with his hand. The very thought made him sick. 

Dey...was all he had.

“Ayyyyy, now lil’ love....whatcha be thinkin’ dem silly thoughts for, huh?” 

The hexxer’s gaze flew to his belt, but the shrunken head of his father was still, eerily so, and did not speak as it normally did. But there was no question; that was Ra’jin’s voice. Frantically Ether began to search the area around him, his heart slamming in his chest, his hand coming up to place his voodoo mask on the top of his golden hair as he surveyed the jungle’s depths with a panicked and desperate expression. 

“Papa? Papa?!” he called, “Papa!! Please!! Answer Ether!” 

Grass, dirt, and branches crunched with a cool air under the hexxer’s simple dirty linen bound feet, his pace picking up to a full out run as his feet pelted the ground soundly. The only light he had was the moon and stars, and neither were too bright this night, despite the moon being full the clouds seemed to be cover the Lunar goddess with it’s embrace - hindering his hunt for the voice he had known since birth. 

Where? 

“Etta...” 

A strangled gasp escaped the tiny elf’s throat, spirit’s of his ancestors swirling around him in the clearing until they became a tangible form, Ether’s violet eyes shaking as they held the image in front of him, one he had not seen in years, and he begged his small legs not to give up from under him as they quaked. Heart in his throat as he took a timid, and rather shaky, step forward.

Ra’jin.

“P-Papa....?” he questioned very lightly, “Papa..i-is that you?” 

A broad grin crossed the troll’s face, a proud glimmer in his eyes as he gave a firm nod, his staff giving a sound rap to the ground as he knocked it to get Ether’s full attention. 

“Etta, ma boy...little love, why ya be tinkin’ dem thoughts, boy?” 

Ether chewed on his lower lip as he stood only a few feet away from his Papa now, unable to believe what was before him despite his experience with spirits and his knowledge of the ancestors. For a moment he wanted to question Ra’jin as to what thought’s he was referring to, but he knew better than that, and no one knew him better than his Papa.

“I-It’s true....though, Dey would be better off...without Ether.” 

Another sharp slam to the ground, forcing the hexxer’s errant attention back to the shaman before him, the troll’s eyes narrowed skeptically at his little son.

“Did ya ask ‘em ya’self, Etta? Did ya Dey say dat ta ya?” 

“No...” 

“Den why dese silly thoughts, hmm? What be on ma lil’ raptor’s mind?” 

Ether fiddled with his skirts, thin fabric laden with gold strands and coins, and the slits on the side came clear up to his hips for easy movement. So much swirled in his mind, in his heart, and he found his fingertips ghosting over the golden band that he held so dearly. Ether had never had a ring before, and though since he’d found himself fond of them; only one had the right to adorn his left hand. 

“....Dey and Ether fought, cause Ether is so stupid. He not understand Dey, and Dey just try to help all the time....and Ether yell and scream, then Dey yell and scream because Ether yell and scream and - and - “ 

“Ayyy, sound like marriage ta ma ears, ya tink ya be the only couple dat fights, ay? Ol’ Rai’jin could tell ya a few tings den, but now ain’t ta time. Etta, Etta....ya be so hard on ya’self boy. Ya get so angry wit ya’self cause ya not be understandin’....ya don’ tink ya mate understand dat? Dey be knowin’ how ya are, Etta...he knows lil’ raptor, he knows.” 

Ether wrung his hands in front of him, eyes on the ground as he listened to the wise old Shaman’s words, tears now fully streaming down his cheeks and smearing his face paint. Every time he messed up, every time they fought, fear swallowed him whole; fear that he’d never see Dey again. He wanted so much to be part of his world, to understand his world, he pushed himself to speak Thalassian and Orcish, infuriated with himself when he couldn’t make words or misunderstood. And then that female Death Knight....Ether had felt so horrible, after all the hard work Dey had done to teach him, he felt like he failed him as she pointed out his speech. The humiliation built up in him again, and he nibbled harder on his lower lip until he felt the cold touch of death on his chin, Rai’jin’s transparent hand pulling up his chin so violet eyes met his. 

“Etta...ma boy, ma sweet boy. It gonna be otay, Rai’jin be knowin’ dis. Oh, Etta...Rai’jin was so worried ‘bout his boy...so worried. But Dey is ‘ere na, and Rai’jin not gotta worry no more ‘bout his little love. Ya safe ma boy, it’s alright...ya be safe. Jus’ follow ya Dey - he know da way.” 

Rai’jin’s last words carried weight in Ether’s heart, and the hexxer knew it to be the truth. Dey always did seem to know the way, and no matter how far the tiny elf ran, or how lost and confused the road became; Dey was always waiting with an open hand - waiting for Ether to catch up and take it. A spring broke in Ether and his small frame began shaking with sobs, eyes welling over and spilling to his cheeks and down his chin, eyes still holding his Papa’s.

His Papa. 

He’d been his world; his whole world. Now he was gone, Ether had no choice, he had to take another path; and even if he wasn’t alone it hurt. He missed his Papa with all of his heart, and fear was a constant companion that always nagged at the back of his mind. The hexxer’s words were rushed, slipping into full Zandali as he burst like a dam, heart boiling over and into form.

“B-But! What if Dey get’s tired of Ether being so stupid? What if he gives up on me, Papa? What if I become too much? He’s so handsome, Papa. So smart, he’s so smart, and I’m so slow, always struggling to keep up. If he leaves, I’ll be all alone, and my heart....Papa, I love him so much. I love him...so, so much...” 

Ether clutched his hands to his heart, eyes shaking and earnest, heart bare to the jungle air, his emotions clanging against their cage bars, eager to be free, and Rai’jin closed his eyes. Ether..his little love, had always been this way, and to Rai’jin - it was beautiful. His little boy felt so much, held so much emotion within him, yet never knew his true potential.  His Papa Rai’jin knew how smart Ether was, and wondered if he realized how much he’d advanced since his departure from the village, that his progress compared to other’s was extremely advanced. But Ether would not see it that way; only that his ignorance of the world had caused a rift between him and his husband. He would only see that he could not understand Dey, and in return had hurt his love because he had been to quick with his anger over his misunderstanding and confusion. 

Rai’jin steeled himself, praying to the Loa to anchor him to this world for a little longer so he could guide his boy one last time. The hurt and pain in those beautiful pale violet orbs tore at this soul, and how he wished he didn’t have to leave his little boy again. But he knew his time was limited; he had to make good use of it. When the troll spoke again, his voice was clear like thunder, knowing he must be stern to get Ether’s attention..

“Do ya really tink.....Dey will leave ya? Afta all dis time, all ya been through togetha’...ya tink he jus’ leave? Etta, if he were gonna get tired of ya, he’d a dun’ it already, Rai’jin know dis. Etta, dontcha’ know how important ya ‘re to ‘em? I know it be hard fo’ ya lil’ boy, but...ya gotta let ‘em lead, and try ta be a lil’ easier on ya’self. Ya so loved, ya future only jus’ begun ma boy. Ya wanna be ‘part o’ his world? Den be there with ‘em....jus’ don’t let go of his hand, Etta...don’t let go...he gonna show ya da way...” 

Slowly, Rai’jin began to slip from the physical plane, back to the spirit planes and Ether felt his heart thud and leap in his chest as he desperately grasped at the spirit’s delicate fibers in an attempt to get him to stay, helplessness grabbing him as he watched his beloved Papa fade from his sight, out of existence, and away from him, like smoke through the hexxer’s slender fingers.

“Ol’ Rai’jin be so proud of ya, Etta...do not forgot dat. Never forget I love ya my boy, my lil’ miracle...” 

“Papa!!” 

Ether shouted in utter desperation, silver wisps glittering in the moonlight as his father returned to the world beyond, a place where his ancestors were waiting, and no matter how the tiny elf tried to hold on, to chase him down, where Rai’jin went...

Ether could not follow.

“Papa!! Papa please!! Please, please....please. Don’t...go...don’t leave me.... please don’t leave me here....I need you...” 

With a thud, eyes still trained on the disappearing traces of ethereal remnants that filled the night sky, Ether fell to his knees, and slowly he fell forward, palms against the dew wet ground as he began to sob loudly, why did he have to say goodbye again? 

“P-Papa!!!! ....Papa! Ether...Ether love....you..please, come back...” 

“Etta, ya know da way, follow ya heart, ya always did...it will neva steer ya wrong. Remember what Ol’ Rai’jin tell ya....take his hand, don’tcha let go.” 

And the troll was gone, the hexxer’s sobs the only sound filling the night air, even the wildlife silent in reverence to the spirits, and once again Ether felt as lost as he did that day, the day he’d left the village with only his direhorn and a small pack of belongings. Ether had left the village to respect his father’s wishes, to learn about the world, even if it would have been easier to stay. 

“Papa...” 

There was rustle of leaves in the clearing, a few large fauna being pushed aside to make way for a darkly clad figure that walked very cautiously into the open spot, the moon finally shining it’s light past the clouds. 

“Ether...” 

Two ears gave a tilt, back and forth, to the sound he’d become so accustomed to that he could pick it out of a million voices. Rai’jin’s voice came to him again as he tried to right himself, wiping away his tears with hasty hands before he turned to face his husband, who must have spent at least a couple hours looking for him by the state of his attire. His voice cracked as he tried to speak, Dey’s eyes watching him very carefully behind the leather mask he kept clasped around his face, and concern flickered through his moonstruck orbs as Ether finally spoke up. 

“D-Dey...Ether...Ether...” 

The hexxer was desperately trying to make words, eyes falling to the dark mossy ground under him, hands wringing again nervously, a gasp rasping from his throat as a single gloved digit caught his chin, Dey now mere inches from him as he pulled his attention to him, a free hand pulling down his mask so Ether could see his face. When the two digits let go of his chin, Dey satisfied he had his attention, he slowly and reassuringly wiped away his husband’s tears, one by one, leaning forward with a fluid motion only Dey was capable of, and kissing streams left behind by emotion. 

“Dey has been looking for his Ether, silly monkey, how did you get to be so fast, huh?” 

His words were soft, gentle, any trace of anger long gone at the sight of his lover’s tears, and Ether found his hand clutching to front of the rogue’s tunic, his eyes laying shut as he inhaled Dey’s scent; cologne and deep forest after rain. It was his favorite smell in the entire world, and sometimes when Dey was gone, he’d sneak in his drawers and smell the cologne for reassurance if he felt lonely. Without further words, Dey took Ether’s left hand in his, lips laying a soft kiss against the simple gold band that he had given the small elf during their exchange of vows, and though the ceremony of two hearts had not been traditional, Ether would not have wanted it any other way. 

“D-Dey, Ether did not understand...” 

“I know..” 

Ether’s ears laid flat submissively to his mate, and the rogue seemed to have his gaze locked onto him as much as Ether wanted to lower it, he found he couldn’t. The rogue sighed very softly, giving his head a tiny shake as he studied Ether’s face.

“Ether. I know you do not understand some things, and I know we fight sometimes because of it, but Dey should have understood that was why you were angry. I know you are trying, so hard. I’m so proud, Ether, so proud of you. I’ve been chasing you all night, I couldn’t keep up, and Ether...” 

The rogue closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again, an expected emotion playing in his eyes now, one so vivid it made Ether take a breath, his lover’s next words startling him a bit.

“Ether, I get scared. When I can’t find you, it scares me. I think, “What if he’s tired of trying to be understood?”, or, “Why can’t you just stop being so stupid Dey? He’s clearly frustrated..”, and it scares me to death when you run off like that after a fight. Ether, couples fight, but you can’t run away from me. I need you just as much as you need me Ether, and we can do this...but we must do it together. Cause our souls? I think they are meant to be together, no...I know they are, because no matter how far you run, or how lost you feel....Dey always finds you, doesn’t he? It’s like an invisible line; leading from you to me. I just follow it...”

“Take his hand, Etta...” Rai’jin’s words echoed, “..and don’t let go.” 

“I’m sorry, Dey...” 

Ether wrapped his fingers around Dey’s, the rogue immediately giving their joined hands a firm, yet reassuring, squeeze, another slight shake to his head as his dark hair fell over his shoulders.

“Ether, don’t be sorry. Just come to Dey when you don’t understand, he will show you the way. It’s always been that way, and it always will be. Help Dey understand, and he will help you. Ether, you aren’t alone, I would never allow it. Never...” 

Dey lowered his head, as if asking permission before it swooped down and caught Ether’s lips, but the hexxer was already on his tippy toes and eagerly awaiting the relief that came with Dey’s kiss. As his husband’s arms embraced him, he felt safe again, his body no longer shaking, and he knew it that moment every would be okay - as long as he had his Dey. 

No matter how many times they fought, they’d always seal their apologies to each other with a kiss, and everything would work itself out in the end.

Because even when he did not understand, Dey did. 

Dey understood Ether himself, for himself, as he was. Nothing less, and the rogue was in awe of him as much as Ether was in awe of him; they admired each other’s strengths and filled in each other’s weaknesses. 

It was balance at it’s finest, and with a sweeping motion of his arms, Ether was bridal style within the smiling rogue’s grasp, another soft kiss laid to his lips as he carted the runaway hexxer back to camp, Ether’s violet eyes closing as his head fell lax against the sound of his husband’s heart, knowing as long as Dey was around...

He’d never be alone.

[golden-eyed-guardians]

Look at me I did a thing

In light of the final chapter of WKM, I was struck with inspiration to write! This has my OC Arson and Dark. I might do one with her and Wilford, but school is coming back up soon so who knows.

Shoutout to @thedarkenedkeeper for listening to me drown on about my ideas cause she a pretty chill human bean :)

Dark was never one for visitors; he always had better things to do than to sit and waste time with pointless talk, but today was especially true. The man sat behind his desk with his head in his hands as he stared down the elegant walking cane from decades past. It felt as if his mind was ready to split in two pieces and he felt a phantom pain from a gunshot straight into his gut.

Where is he?!? A part of his mind screamed and he felt his shell crack slightly Where is the bastard that did this to us!?!?! Dark squeezed his eyes shut as a barrage of noises and imagines flooded his office. The sound of laughter and the tink of wine glasses, a spiral staircase leading to the top with two people standing at the railing, the ringing of gunfire and the smell of the smoke…

A quiet knock on the door silenced everything, and Dark slowly lifted his head as they knocked again. Wilford would have barraged in by now, and any of the others would have waited for an answer and if they didn’t get one then they’d leave. Dark waited until another knock came before he knew it wasn’t one of the others.

He waved the door open and was surprised when he saw Arson standing there with a leather-bound book held to her chest. The fire virus didn’t belong to either group but stuck close to Anti’s side most of the time. She gained Dark’s respect in numerous fights, but he still didn’t know much about her.

“Arson,” he greeted, but his voice sounded lighter than usual, “I’m afraid you’ve come at a bad time.”

May I come in? She signed, but it was slow and choppy. Anti was her only way of communicating with the others, but she had begun teaching herself sign language to help communicate easier without him. As a result, most everyone had begun learning how to read sign language, including Dark though he still wasn’t very good.

Dark really wanted nothing more than to be alone, but Arson was a hard person to refuse even for him. It wasn’t often that she came around, but if she was here then she was here for a damn good reason. He sighed and put his walking stick away as the scent of heat and ash followed her as she walked in.

“What is it that you need?” He asked as she took a seat across from him. She began to sign out something, but he could only get the first few words. When she noticed this, she pulled out a text to speech device.

“Who is Celine?” The robotic voice asked and Dark felt his shell break just a little bit more.

“Celine?” Dark repeated and Arson nodded her head, “Why do you ask?”

“Wilford said a human looked like Celine, but when I asked who that was he just stared and said he didn’t know a Celine.” The device said.

“Wilford’s mind is broken, cracked. It doesn’t surprise me that he says one thing, and then doesn’t know what he is talking about,” Dark replied, “I’ve known him for years, he has always been that way.” Arson squinted her eyes slightly, and Dark knew that she knew that there was more to this story, but he wasn’t going to tell it.

“Who was he before his mind broke?”

“I don’t know,” Dark replied. He wasn’t lying; he really didn’t know Wilford before everything happened, “I didn’t know him before then.”

“Then, who were you?”

“What are you even doing here, Arson?” Dark asked harshly as he pushed back from his desk, “Shouldn’t you be…burning humans alive or destroying homes?”

“Your name was Damien…”

His shell broke violently casting shards of red and blue in every direction. The ringing grew to an almost defining volume, but Arson sat silently as Dark slowly turned towards her.

“Where did you hear that name?” He asked slowly trying his best to keep his anger in check, but with his shell broken, it was near impossible. Arson raised her head and shifted her shoulders.

“I know about the Manor and what happened there,” the robotic voice spoke for her, “About Celine, Abe, Damien, The Colonel…” Dark was barely aware of the chair in his hands before it was thrown towards her; she easily dodged it and stood on the other side of the desk as he searched for anything else to attack her with.

“You’re hiding him, aren’t you?!?” Dark roared, but this was Damien’s voice. Years of searching and searching and watching William lose himself more and more had finally come to a head. Shards of red and blue shell scattered passed his eyes as he threw another chair towards her, but she still dodged it.

“Damien, listen.” She said and he could somehow hear her above the ringing in his ears, “I want to help. The Primary Objective…” Another chair splintered to pieces above her head, but she still refused to pull out her knife or her fire.

“What about it?!” He snarled and forced himself to stop and tried to pull his shell back piece by tiny piece.

“I want to help,” she said, “help find him; find Mark.”

“Why?” He asked. He was slowly able to push back Damien and was quickly building back his shell. It was embarrassing that he broke so quickly over one word, and in front of her. It was why he wanted to be alone; he should have known it would have happened.

“You can’t be at peace until you find him, right?” Her text to speech said, “I know what it’s like to be ripped by two halves.” For a split second, her body glitched showing her nails digging into the gash in her throat with her eyes as black as night, then she went back to normal. Dark sighed deeply as he fixed his suit and hair.

“This book has most of what I could find from the Manor.” She sat the book on his desk after brushing away stray pieces of splinternet wood, “It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“How did you find all of this?” He asked as he tried to straighten what remained of his office, “I made sure that no one knew about Markiplier Manor.”

“It was my job to learn people’s most hidden secrets,” she said, “But you hid it well.” She flashed him a small smile as if he hadn’t just been throwing chairs and threatening her less than five minutes ago and walked out the front door and left him standing amongst his own mess.

[thatfilthyanimal]

Favorite scene in Megamind?

My favorite scene is the part where the whole movie

Just kidding, I like a lot of super little scenes/details that do the story-telling for the characters better than the story-telling does. Like Megamind trying to apologize to Warden through the glass with shaking hands, and the brainbots running into each other with a tiny “tink” in the beginning of the Black Mamba sequence, and Megamind and Minion bickering at each other like bratty kids/siblings and pouting and ugh. Basically I like everything that tells us more than the movie intended to tell us without force-feeding it. Show, don’t tell, was done perfectly here. It made the characters so likable!

I also like the whole part of Button of Doom with Megamind hiding in the Invisible Car, to the tip of his cape hanging out the door and ripping off, to his squirreling around the car, to the Mega-Megamind Bot making chicken noises with “bok bok bok” scrolling across the mouth.

[megairishrose]

Recruited Chapter 48: The Glue

The paramedics had taken away the body hours ago but Amelia still sat there. She stared at the blood stain on the floor. She hadn't said a word, hadn't even acknowledged anyone who walked up to her. She was lost.

"You need to eat something."

Amelia recognized the voice and the shoes. "I'm not hungry." Her voice was tiny and broken.

Neal was shocked she spoke to him. He had been so sure Robin would get something out of her.

"No, you are going to eat something." He was not going to take no for an answer. He had been worrying about her since he got the call from Blue. Neal picked her up like she was rag doll. She didn't fight him. Amelia snaked an arm around his neck and buried her head. It wasn't long before he felt tears.

He carried her bridal style upstairs and into the office lounge. Neal placed her on a couch and locked the door, knowing she did not want anyone walking in.

Amelia was silent again, her legs were pulled up to her chin.

"Here." He was holding out an energy bar and a cup of coffee to her. She took them, feeling grateful. Her stomach had been making noises but Amelia was ignoring them.

Neal took a seat in a chair a few feet away. Silence fell over the room.

"You have nothing to say to me?" She asked.

"Is there anything I could say to help you?" Neal asked back.

She stared at him, shocked but glad. No pretend words of comfort, no pity. Just a person to stay close and quiet.

Hours later, she felt strong enough to leave the office. No one said a word to her, maybe some fresh air would do her good. Amelia sat on the steps of the New York Public Library, oblivious to everyone and everything. Graham was gone, cruelly taken from her. She was powerless to protect him. At least she had run out of tears, now she was just numb.

Suddenly she wasn't alone. David sat on one side of her while Killian sat on the other side.

"Are you two my bereavement team?" She asked, her voice lacking any emotion.

"Of sorts. Blue sent us because we understand what you are going through." David said.

"We both lost a brother." Killian clarified that point, it wasn't common knowledge.

"You did everything you could do. Graham is a hero who paid the ultimate price." David continued.

Amelia wanted to say something but decided to wait. Let them do their practiced speech on her.

"You should keep his memory alive, keep him in your heart, as we all will. Live the same way you would if he were watching. He wouldn't want you to beat yourself up over it." Killian finished.

Were they done? Amelia asked herself. When silence fell over them, that was her cue. She stood, faced them, there was a tiny smile on her face. "Thanks, guys." She pulled them in for a hug.

David and Killian returned it, thinking their speech helped.

But all bets were off when she closed an iron grip on the back of their necks. "Did you brother die in your arms? Then you don't understand what I am going through." She pulled back, gave them a hard look and walked away.

David rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm worried about her. Amelia looks dangerous."

"Not dangerous, mate. Desperate." Killian corrected him.

Blue called an emergency staff meeting. Everyone was there, officers, consultants and the recruits, although now they had been promoted to field agents. "Emma was able to plant a tracker on the getaway car Beating Heart provided. According to the data, there is a lab in upstate New York. That's where Cora is conducting her experiments." Blue told the assembled group.

"Cora invaded our headquarters, now we are bringing the fight to her. We are ending this. I am leading the team; be on a jet in thirty minutes." Regina said. She was leading the strike team. Blue didn't even fight her on it. Regina was taking Robin and all, well most of the field agents. "Amelia, I am going to have to ask you to sit this one out." Regina felt terrible about even saying those words.

Amelia had been quiet and calm since she returned to the building but that request made her anger come to the surface. 'Sit this one out? Are you kidding me?" She growled.

"You are emotionally involved… the mission is more personal for you than the others…"

"And it's not personal for you? This is your mother we're going after…"

"Your judgement might be clouded." Might was wording it nicely. "You are staying here. We will take care of Cora."

"But…"

"That's an order, Miss Hunter." Regina finally pulled rank.

That put Amelia in her place. She could have looked to Robin to back her up, but she knew he would be of no help. Amelia spun on her heel and left the room.

If she wasn't going with them, she didn't even want to see them. Amelia planned on staying in the lounge until someone got her. What mindless movie could occupy her time?

Twenty minutes later, the team was assembled in the hanger bay, loading weapons on to the large jet. Blue had been saving it for a rainy day, that day had finally come. They were going to take out Cora once and for all. The only people staying behind were Gold, Sidney, Whale, Kathryn, Ashley, Blue and obviously Amelia. But the officers would be pulling their own weight in a different way from headquarters. They had gained access to the security cameras inside the laboratory and would be the eyes and ears. This was the only downside Blue saw to her position, she liked the action. But being director put her behind a desk most of the time, giving orders and doing paperwork. At least she had all the faith in the world in Regina, who was leading this mission.

"Wait up for me." Ashely entered the bay, all geared up for the mission.

"We have enough people, Miss Boyd." Regina told her. As much as she did want help storming the castle, she didn't want to overdo it and possibly put more lives at risk. There were thirteen people going. Unlucky number thirteen.

"Better to have more than less. I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines. I am a member of this organization, a consultant who never gets field work. I lost someone I cared about a long a time ago because I was helpless. We are not losing someone else ever again." She sounded like she wasn't going to back down.

Regina sighed, that relationship did not have time to actually form as it should have. Maybe Ashley could be their fairy godmother and be the lucky number fourteen in their team. "Fine, get on." Then she saw Kathryn. "Are you coming too?"

Kathryn looked at the jet for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I'm content to be the eyes and eyes. But I do want to say good bye to my brother before you all leave."

David saw his sister and walked down the ramp to hug her.

"You come back, you hear me? I can't lose another brother." She whispered, trying to keep her voice at a normal level.

"I'll be back before you know it." David reassured her.

Kathryn saw Mary Margaret and called out to her. "Watch his back, bring him home safe." Mary Margaret nodded and Kathryn turned back to David. "Watch her back, protect her when she needs it."

David nodded then he followed Mary Margaret into the jet. They found two empty seats between Jefferson and Ruby. David couldn't help but notice that Ruby had given up on any eye makeup, the crying she had done made it pointless. They buckled up and Mary Margaret grabbed both her sister's and her fiancée's hand and squeezed.

David was so glad for the comradery here; they were a true team after they suffered a terrible loss. But at the same time, there was uncertainty. He looked around the jet, they were all there. David, Mary Margaret, Ruby, Emma, Neal, Killian, August, Belle, Archie, Jefferson, Ashely, and Regina. Robin and Tink were up front at the controls. They were in this together, no matter what.

Emma squeezed Neal's arm. "She will be okay; her head isn't in the right place right now." She knew he was thinking about Amelia and had to reassure him.

"It's not that." That was a slight lie in Neal's part. "Maybe both of us joining Bow and Arrow was a bad idea. What if neither of us come back? What would happen to Henry? He would be all alone, like we were. We wanted better for him."

Emma paused, this was what she found amazing about Neal, his deep loyalty and a strong need to protect people, including their son. "We are coming back. You need to have hope in us, all of us." She did trust him and their team. For a moment, her eyes glanced across the room and locked with Killian.

Killian almost wasn't sure he was actually seeing clearly. Emma Swan locked eyes with him. Maybe their hours in the gym meant something. If there was anyone on this jet he could fully relate to, it was her. But he had kept his distance, she had an ex-boyfriend and a son. The ball was firmly in her court.

"Your brother and I had a thing."

That sudden revelation from the woman sitting next to him came out of nowhere. Killian whirled to face Ashely. She wasn't looked at him, instead she was staring out into nothing, her fingers wrapped around a large ring she wore on a chain. Liam's ring.

"It started out sweet and simple but grew into more. No one knew, we were quiet about the whole relationship. I wanted him to tell you but Liam insisted you wouldn't be comfortable sharing him." Finally, she turned to him. "He always spoke highly of you, that you had a hero's heart."

"I miss him so much." What else was Killian to say?

"I do too. We all do." Ashely gave him a reassuring smile.

"So what are the chances we are walking into a trap?" Tink asked Robin, flipping a few switches over her head. She was going to pilot the jet, she loved flying.

Robin paused, he couldn't lie or sugar coat the truth from his team members. "There are no doubts, we are most certainly walking into a trap. Usually Bow and Arrow is on the defensive but when push comes to shove, we don't back down." He turned around to address everyone else. "You all buckled up back there? Let's take down the Queen of Hearts."

[teamhook]

A Chapter a Day... Savage Heart CS AU

Yes, a chapter a day.

This story will be finished by the end of the month. :)

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the wonderful @ilovemesomekillianjones​

Cover by the amazing @xhookswenchx​

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 6: Deception

Milah is looking out the window in her room contemplating her wedding to August which is fast approaching. Her soon to be mother-in-law Cora is preparing everything to make sure the wedding is perfect for her son. Milah knows she has one thing to take care of before she says her I do's. She has some loose ends to tie up.

She enlists the assistance of her trusted maid to ensure that the dalliance with Killian did not leave her pregnant, and to help cover the fact that she no longer has her virtue intact.. In her short stay in Misthaven, she has heard of a healer that can help her with these details. The healer gives her some herbal tea that will solve the pregnancy issue if she is in fact expecting. To cover up the loss of her virginity she is given an animal's blood, the healer didn't specify which and she was not going to ask for specifics. She is not too excited about using it but desperate times call for desperate measures. Milah has all her bases covered. She is ready to become the lady of the manor. To be waited on hand and foot.

As she walks down the aisle, Milah casually glances at Emma. It is not the wedding Milah had wanted, but the look on Emma's face is worth it. Her cousin is such a hypocrite who can't hide her feelings, she's always going on about how truly happy she is about their wedding and how eager she is to finally be able to take her novice vows. All lies, Milah knows it. If only Emma could just be honest and not be a damn martyr, Milah thinks. The vows are exchanged, and Milah really tries to show some excitement..

With her Uncle David still gone and Emma at the convent, Milah decides to ask Snow to come live with them so she is not alone. If she is truly honest, it is a simple tactic to show to her new husband August and his judgmental mother Cora, that she has a good heart, especially since she had heard her mother-in-law only talk praises about Emma. She knows that if it had been up to Cora, August would have married selfless Saint Emma.

Milah settles into being August's wife. She looks at him while he sleeps, he is not Killian, but he will do. She misses Killian though, he was so good at pleasing her in bed, unlike the man that lays next to her. Things could be worse, she could have married beneath her. One of August's redeeming qualities is he enjoys lavishing her with expensive gifts.

Milah smiles to herself, she does love seeing Emma suffer. Days turn into weeks and soon it has been almost two months of marriage. He is dull and he just doesn't thrill her like Killian. Perhaps later she can find someone exciting and take him as a lover. Killian is irreplaceable in that area, pity he got captured, such a waste.

She should alleviate Emma's pain and tell her she truly did her a service by marrying August in her place. She really is not missing out on anything. However, Emma might have been extremely satisfied with having August as a lover, she is so frigid. She wouldn't know what to do with a real man if she ever got one. Milah snickers at the thought.

She walks around the large estate, avoiding her mother-in-law and limiting her time with August as she typically did. She uses the excuse of keeping Aunt Snow company to make sure she doesn't feel unwanted in the household.

One day the unexpected happens. Her maid tells her that Smee is on the outskirts of the estate with a message. Milah thinks it must be a letter from an imprisoned Killian and she quickly sets out to go meet with Smee.

Unfortunately for Milah, as she is leaving, she is seen by Emma who is there to visit her mother. Emma follows her and sees Smee hand her Killian's message. Unbeknownst to Milah, Emma wonders why Milah would be meeting with that man and decides to keep an eye on her.

Milah quickly reads the note and tells an anxious Smee she will go to Killian as soon as she can, but that she needs to be careful.

~~~Flashback - The Road So Far

Killian Jones was the worst human around. The people of Misthaven were in a quandary when it came to the pirate captain. The higher class had quickly labeled him a thief, scoundrel, and the scum of the earth. The lower class saw a completely different man, simply a godsend. More like a blessing in disguise.

In the beginning, after his christening as Captain of the Jolly Roger he had truly earned his devious reputation. He had done it all. Pillaged and plundered without a thought to anyone else's needs. He had eagerly created an image to instill fear amongst his crew and other pirates to stop any mutiny attempts. What better way to control or motivate than fear? He had refused to be underestimated because of his young age.

Perhaps the first reminder of the humanity that still resided within him was a young girl he had met in his darkest time. The young girl's name was Kristinka; she had been orphaned at a very young age as well. Like him, she had no family to help her and was forced to learn to survive by any means.

She had been working in the tavern owned by his friend Tiny. The Golden Goose Tavern was exploding with the excitement of the crew of the Jolly Roger. They had just arrived for a night of celebration, she had offered him services that were not on the menu and he foolishly accepted. It didn't help that his crew had cheered and encouraged the deed.

She was only eighteen years old at the time and that was three years ago. He should have known better. He had just turned twenty-two and was eagerly trying to live up to the image of the pirate captain. Even then he knew he had made a mistake, it was bad form to lay with a lady one had no intentions of loving or marrying. They soon got to know each other better and became friends of sorts.

In the orphanage she had grown up in, there'd been a copy of her favorite book, Peter Pan. Although Tink had never learned to read, one of the nun's used to read to her behind the Mother Superior's back. Killian reminded her of a key character, and she had even given him the nickname Hook. That alone was an indication of how young she was when they first met.

As a boy, he had loved the story of Peter Pan also. He had prayed to be swiftly transported to Neverland to be able to escape his cruel reality. He began calling her Tink, short for Kristinka and for the fairy she reminded him of. She was not happy about the nickname but loved the camaraderie it afforded, she was always pouting when he would call her by that name.

He knew she'd had fallen in love with him early on, but he just didn't see her in a romantic light. She would only ever be a close friend, he could not give her his heart. Meeting Tink made him remember his youth and he soon the lower class saw him in a different light. To the ones that had no savior, no voice, he became their protector. Each time the local law tried to pin any sort of crime on Killian, the locals protected him. He began donating some of his ill-gotten riches to help provide for those who couldn't provide for themselves. He donated to the orphanage anonymously since he knew if the nuns realized where the money came from they would never accept it.

Present

By the time Killian returns to Misthaven months have passed. Bloody Arendelle prison is all Killian Jones can think. Yet he is happier than he has ever been. He has an older brother and soon he will marry Milah. He enters The Golden Goose Tavern with a confidence he had forgotten during his time in prison.

He doesn't even go home once he makes port. He just wants a bit of rum to welcome him home while Smee runs his errand to Milah.

Then he hears the news. "Countess Milah married August Booth," one of the fishermen says and continues with his story. "Her family almost missed out on the opportunity that comes with marrying someone with that name, who knows why the other girl wasn't the one that married him."

His heart shatters and a darkness creeps into him as his elven like ears perk up to that bit of information. At first, he thinks he has misheard… he must have. Milah couldn't have betrayed him like this, wouldn't have, they were to be married upon his return.

He approaches the fishermen and asks, "Oy, August Booth married the Countess Milah? I thought he was betrothed to the other Countess?"

One of the fishermen responds, "Aye, he did. In my opinion, he made the wrong choice, but I am partial to blondes."

"Sorry, mate. I didn't mean to intrude on your private conversation. In my line of work, information is power," Killian says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. His jaw clenches as he nods and walks away swiftly. He is angry. He wants to hurt someone; anyone will do at this point.

No, she would not dare betray him. Oh, there will be blood. He wants to inflict the same pain he is feeling. She will pay, they will all pay. He is shaking uncontrollably.

He has no idea how or when he reaches his home. He looks around the room at the mess he's made, glasses and bottles are broken, chairs and the wooden table are overturned, books have been torn to shreds and papers are scattered all over the normally tidy room.

"Smee! Come here!" Killian yells.

The stocky man approaches slowly while playing with his crimson hat. He had heard the Captain arrive and then the noise coming from the little office erupted.

He must have heard about the Countess marrying August Booth. "Sir, you are finally back," Smee says nervously.

Killian rolls his eyes in frustration. "Apparently you are a very observant man Mr. Smee. Now is there anything of importance that you have yet to tell me?"

"Sir, Countess Milah has married August Booth in your absence," Smee says to his Captain. "Sir, there had been rumors of your capture throughout the port cities. We didn't expect to see you again."

Killian smirks and responds, "Aye, I was captured by the Arendelle Navy and imprisoned alongside most of the crew, some were not so bloody lucky. Now, I do not recall any attempt from the lot of you trying to free us."

Smee's eyes go wide open. "Sir, I was told that there had been attempts to sway the authorities but they are not as easily convinced as the Misthaven officials."

"It matters not anymore. How did Milah end up marrying her cousin's betrothed?" Killian is really struggling to stay calm while he waits for the man's responses.

"The true story is not known, sir. All that is common knowledge is that Countess Emma joined the convent and that within a fortnight her cousin had married August Booth."

Killian scratches behind his ear and says, "I will write a message for her that you will figure out a way to have delivered to her. Is that understood?"

"Of course," Smee answers rapidly.

Killian turns to look for some paper to write the message in what is left of his office. The message is simple.

Milah, we need to talk.

KJ

She will know the note is from him and where to go, all that is left for him to do is wait. Several hours pass by the time Smee finally returns.

"It's about time, Mr. Smee. You know how much I abhor waiting."

"Captain getting the message to her was not an easy ordeal. She is living in the Booth Estate; I had to be extra careful," Smee replied as he played with his hat nervously.

Killian nods in agreement, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "Is it fair to assume you have been successful in your task?" Killian asks.

"Of course Sir, I would never fail you," Smee replies.

"Did she say anything?"

"All she said was that as soon as she could get away without arousing suspicion she would make her way to see you, Sir."

"Hmmm, wonderful, how very considerate of her," Killian hisses. "Did she look happy in her new role of wife to Booth? What was her reaction after reading the note?" Killian looks at Smee as he waits for the answer, dread in his heart.

"She seems content enough, she didn't seem unhappy. Though she did seem happily surprised after she had finished reading your note. She will come, I'm sure of it."

"She best not make me wait too long and force me to go looking for her. I'm sure her new rich husband will not like to know that he is enjoying my leftovers. She still has to answer for her betrayal."

Killian had started to lose his temper after Smee said that she seemed content. He'd been under the assumption she had been forced to marry August. The fact of the matter is simple. He knows she enjoys riches more than anyone else he has ever encountered and that reality has made him quickly realize that she may have entered into the marriage quite willingly and all for the wealth.

He'd never felt the need to flaunt his wealth. He'd only used it to his advantage when having the need to bribe some judge or another greedy corrupt official to look the other way, but never to enjoy an extravagant lifestyle.

Killian knew he would never be able to provide her with the riches and comfort that August had surrounded her with. Perhaps if that last venture had been successful he may have been able to compete with Booth's wealth, but now, he couldn't come close. He has wealth but not to that extent. He can give her a reasonable cozy life. She may have accepted that life before but now after having a taste of the lavish life Booth has to offer, he isn't so sure.

The problem is that he doesn't like to share. He is a pirate after all. Once upon a time he had cared for August. The little time he had spent in the Booth Estate as a boy, he had grown quite close to him. Too bad he had taken something that had been his. Perhaps a visit to see Archie for some Intel on August Booth is now in order.

Milah's family was still well respected and had gained some financial stability in recent years. Still, the marriage between Milah and August has benefited them a great deal already.

He has to be tactful in how he does things. He cannot let his anger blind him. He has to be smart about how he handles the situation from now on. He has an opportunity to get Milah back and maybe a small fortune.

They will sail away on the Jolly Roger once everything is over. His hand reaches his trimmed beard and strokes it as he plots and comes to a realization that he could use the friendship they once shared in their youth to get close to August and gain access.

Archie will happily help; he has tried to get him to leave the pirate's life in exchange for an honorable one for so long. He hates the idea of using Archie. Archie has been his only true friend for so long. He had even provided him with the most basic of education.

He knows his crew can help too, they are extremely loyal; but only because of the riches they have acquired since he became their Captain. As long as there is a big payout he can count on them for whatever he needs.

He will not lose his love. Maybe they can make a home in Arendelle with his brother.

Soon he will meet with Milah and let her know of his plans.

Tagging:

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones  @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke  @superchocovian  @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers​ @imlaxdris71​ @therealstartraveller776​

[autumnpawtribe]

Life is Crazy Part 3

What I write next was a catalyst for an event that changed my life.  I am not sure if it is for the worse or the better, but life changing.  Now, I want to make something clear, Xiao and I have a somewhat open relationship.   I keep myself to Ven, Xiao, and Aret.  Xiao has two lovers.  With permission, and I reserve the right to watch.  Hey, I know my kinks, ok.  Xiao’s two lovers are my brother Jura and my ‘Uncle’ Jack.  Jura and Jack are both a threat, hence the with permission, but I am really ok with it.  Xiao’s a horny little thing and I admit, It means I can keep him satiated.

Jura’s come on to my mate, the first in my heart almost caused me to kill him.

*******************************

The Pandaren workers who knew him waved as Jura headed back to the mango trees he tended.  He was around enough no one thought anything of it.  Even his brother's waved, knowing he would be staying for dinner if he was there to tend the trees.  He shifted to a raptor's form, his coloring showing his  amani heritage as much as his greenish skin and wide build.  He raced back to the mango trees, shifting back as smoothly as silk.  He'd brushed out his braids and had one single red-orange braid down his back as he walked through the small grove.  A few trees spoke to him, the family that occupying unknowing that the spirits of the trees liked them.  They were not too happy about the small shrine to Bwonsamdi, but the Shrines to Gonk, Krag'wa, Vol’jin, Torcali and the August Celestials were welcome to them.  The druid stripped his clothes, talking to the trees and thanking them for the fruit.  He did this often enough, no one thought anything of it anymore.  This time however the day was warm, the shade was nice and he fell asleep for a while underneath the shade of one of the taller specimens.

Xiao had made a habit of eating those mangos straight from the tree, loving the fresh taste of them; something Jura would assuredly know since Xiao would never pass up an opportunity to gush about them. He came out and was about to wander over to a tree when he stumbled upon a sleeping and naked Jura. The Pandaren squeaked quietly in surprise at the unexpected sight and tried to quietly tip-toe his way over to a tree to get a snack, hoping his initial squeak wouldn't wake him.

Jura opened an eye and sat up, stretching to the sky.  Xiao would get a full view of Amani ancestry at its finest.  Built square and wide, Jura had wide hips and shoulders, strong but not too long legs.  He was trimmed in places, not as heavily built as Janaret, but he was not the long, lean and lanky of his younger brother.  His hair, from the neck down at least, was trimmed and close, but enough there to show against his green skin.  He was surprisingly unmarred by Tattoo, piercing or scar.

"Not very Quiet fer a monk, Mango Mon."  Jura smiled, wandering over and not bothered by being naked in front of one who he called Brother-in-law.

Xiao offered a sheepish blush as Jura walked right up to him without a stitch of clothing. He'd gotten a bit more comfortable with casual nudity thanks to Vol and Aret, but Jura wasn't someone he'd experienced it from yet and his eyes couldn't help but to wander ever so briefly. However, he tried to remain chaste and pulled his gaze back up to Jura's eyes. "I did not expect anyone to be out here, so I was a bit startled. All of the training in the world can't keep me from squeaking, it seems. Well, when I am not in business mode at least. It never stuck passively for some reason, at least not when I am home and feeling safe." He cleared his throat and looked away and up at a mango still on the tree. "I was just coming for a snack, I did not mean to disturb you."

"Ja not disturb me.  Ah come ta tend ja trees.  An speak ta ja.  Witout mah youngest bruddah en da mix, hmm?"

He reached up, grabbing some of the more succulent fruits from a higher branch and handing them to Xiao with a smile.  "Ah got a proposition fer ja.  Ah ask ja hear me out.  Ja accept, an et be ok wit ja mates, ah be glad fer et.  Ef ja not, well, dat be dat."  He was being very intentionally vague at the same time as he was being upfront.

Xiao furrowed his brows a bit, seeming curious and intrigued. When Jura reached up, oh Celestials it had to show off his physique, the poor Pandaren blushing more noticeably as he forced himself to focus on the fruit and just the fruit as he took it from Jura's hand. He cleared his throat and nodded, looking up at the Troll's face again now, avoiding his body as best he could. "Of course, you know you can talk to me. Is everything alright?"

"Dat depend on who ja ask."  He took a seat, his back to the trunk of a younger tree as he used his claws to slice open a mango and peel it.  "If ya ask Someone what not be troll, den what ah ask be scandalous.  Ja ask a troll,  'Cept mebe Sand troll, et just a tink.  en ouah culture et not seen as a bad ting."  he did not stop, taking a bite of the mango, just the other side of ripe and therefore sweet and a little soft.  "Ah curious about ya."

Xiao seemed terribly naive about this, he always was when it came to the idea of anyone being interested in him. He began to quietly nibble at the mango and moved to sit down nearby Jura, leaning on the next tree as he ate his fruit. "Scandalous to be curious about what?" He asked curiously, still not following.

Jura picked at the fruit, a tiny bee lighting on his finger as he shared a little of the mango with it.    It seemed to like the juice.  "Ja slept wit Venya.  Vol took 'is own bruddah as mate..."  Jura's bright pumpkin orange eyes looked jade green dead on.  "Et not unknown as a troll.  Ah be hearin' Ja da one dat Venya come ta first, cuz even ef Vol da head da house, ja got just as much, ef not more powah ovah em.  Ja ask fer anytin' an Vol give ja da sun an moon wit et.    An ef ja took Venya ta bed, ja know 'is secrets..."

Xiao practically turned crimson as Venyabi was mentioned, not knowing that Jura knew about it. He bit his bottom lip, looking down at his mango and biting it to occupy his mouth. Can't talk with food in your mouth, right? Panda's gotta have an excuse for his silence, after all. He cleared his throat after a few moments and sheepishly looked over to Jura. "So... what is it you... want to know?" He asked, still not entirely catching on.

jura chuckled, feeding his little buzzing friend, a few other pollinating insects coming to feast as well.  "How you captured the hearts of three trolls to take them all to mate.  And I am not going to lie.  At the end of it, If my brothers and Janaret don't kill me, I want to see how we get along."  He'd switched to Zandali, putting a hand up.  "I have a mate.  She is carrying my second son.  I know Venya told you about Matte.  I also know you are not one to think you are worthy of being loved, a sexual being, and may not want to have a lover, but Either way, Vol will know we talked."

Xiao shook his head slightly. "Honestly, I have no idea. I am the lucky one that they love me and want me. I... still do not quite understand it, even now." He said quietly as he finally looked over at Jura. "You... are saying that..." He paused, shaking his head. "I cannot bring myself to be presumptuous because I feel incredibly foolish saying it because I feel like I can't be right..." He bit his lower lip harder, staring down at the mango now. "Can you... be more plain-spoken?"

"What do you not understand, Xiao Chun.  Love does not always make sense.    And I will break if down.  I have been told I beat around the bush.  I want to sleep with you.  I find you sexually attractive.  You have slept with two of my three brothers, that includes the one who gave me a son.  Venya did not want me to take him as mate.  He wanted Vol for a long time.  I could not be with Vol because he and I would kill each other.  I and all the other trolls, at least the male ones, on this little plot of land  want to bed you.  I am not saying I am in love with you.  I like you, care for you a great deal.  What I want is to have you as a lover, when you and I both feel the urge."

Xiao turned crimson again, offering a very sheepish smile as he looked the Amani over. "You... really?" He asked finally, biting into his mango as his eyes couldn't help but to look Jura over again, knowing what he knew now. He'd always thought the man was gorgeous, but he also thought he was straight. Needless to say, his eyes had always kept their distance out of respect. Now? Oh how they were wandering.

"Yes I Really."  Jura laughed, a voice near as deep as Vol's.  "Trolls are not monogamous.  Most aren't.  And many are pansexual.  Sex is between friends, Loving, making love, going farther.  That all creates lovers.  And I KNOW you want to look.  Your eyes keep flitting."

Xiao squirmed where he sat, the Amani possibly being able to see a small bulge starting to form in Xiao's pants as he looked the man over. "You are just so..." He trailed off, a noise of want and quiet desire escaping him instead. "Most people just see my people as... fuzzballs. It takes a lot to... get used to being wanted. Especially by someone so... just... so..." He trailed off, his eyes glued on him as his legs spread, staring at the manhood that was practically calling to him.

"I have slept with a worgen before.  I am a druid, not raptari, but I serve Gonk.  thankfully he gives a few gifts.  Fur does not bother me, nor scales.”

"Vol will kill me if I touch without permission...  but.."  Jura whispered in a furred ear.  "You want to be on all fours...  I can smell just as well as my brother.  I think I know something he doesn't."  Jura smiled, pulling away.  "He gets very possessive in bed doesn't he..  I know why."

Xiao shivered when Jura whispered in his ear, a breathless little moan actually escaping him and making his cheeks flush red again as he squirmed. "Wh-... mmh... Why?" He asked quietly, barely able to get out words, his breathing already slightly shaky with want.

"Because, while not feminine, he smells what I do.  A mate in heat."  Jura grinned, putting an arm around Xiao.  "Vol trains raptors, animals.  He has a very animalistic mindset.  You, Venya, Aret, Tarja, Everyone in this little family, his little herd, flock what have you.  He is the dominant male.  I would swear if he had chosen to actually put his mind to it, he would have made a great druid.  In my brother's head, you are his primary mate, and he is driven to breed that mate.  That's probably why he was so damn excited that Kit made him those potions.  And I bet he doesn't even know why he's so driven to be with you.  Mentally, I know he loves you.  Biologically.  he wants to breed you and he's addicted to it."  Jura whistled.  "Gods and Loa, I need to be off this continent when you take those potions.  He'll kill me to keep me off of you.  He knows I'll try for it."  

Xiao looked up at Jura as he slipped an arm around him, biting his lower lip as he leaned into the muscled Amani and practically moaned again just at the feeling. He was still breathing a bit hard, the desire and tension just rolling off of him. "I... have a smell?" He asked quietly. "Vol has mentioned being able to smell it before, I... just assumed he meant because I... well, I leak so much." He said quietly, blushing as he squirmed against the large Druid.

"A very good smell.  You wear something with Sage...  and Lavender I think.  There is a ...  I have never been good at describing it.  It's like the scent of arousal.  I am sure he scents you quite often.  You are a drug he won't put down.  Not that it's a bad thing mind."  He took a sniff, knowing the pandaren was as hard as he was.  "You smell to him like sex, and want and life.  He serves a death Loa, but life comes with that.  He met you.. and you two were in bed soon after and I want to bet he bit you to hold you still?"

Xiao blushed deeper, nodding. "Lavender and white sage is my signature scent. He always talks about... a different scent, when he can tell I am... in need. I always thought it was just my leaking." He said as he looked up at Jura with surprise. "We did, actually. I was... practically celibate when he met me, we were in bed the first night. I was astonished, I was never someone to fall into bed so quickly, but there was just something about him... and yes, he bit my shoulder, my neck... held me still." He shivered at the thought. "It was..." He shook his head, squirming again.  "Breathtaking."

"And I would bet he claimed you as mate that night."  Jura grinned, turning Xiao's face to him.  He spoke softly, shaking his head a little as he looked into Xiao's eyes.  "My brother has been trying to breed and mate your since the minute he met you.  You broke him of that human's influence.  He has not clue and yet he will care for you for the rest of your days.  Long time since I have seen a true mating between males.  Rare.  happened with Zaita and I, but she is female and has a true heat.  I'm going to suggest you only take Aret with you after your wedding night.  Vol's going to murder any male around you that he doesn't recognize as his."  The druid pointed out to where Honor and Valor were running around with the flock.   "think of Vol and Aret as Honor and Valor out there.  Honor and Valor have an understanding.    Honor is at the top of the order in that pen.  There is a female in there, Disa I believe.  Honor favors her.  He lets Valor mate with her.  he killed another male that tried to mount her."  Jura looked at Xiao, a little smile on his face.  "Way too much about the inner workings of your mate's brain?"

Xiao listened closely, blushing a little at the words. Finally he shook his head. "Not too much, no..." He murmured, taking a slow breath. "Though I am wondering how certain exceptions fit in now, since I know of at least one. Maybe he is the only exception though." He said with a small shrug before letting out a breathy sigh. "I... am finding myself incredibly struggling right now, Jura..." He whispered, staring up at the large Amani he was leaning against.

Jura did something Vol did to Xiao, putting him in his lap.  Crossing his legs, he held the pandaren close.  "Exceptions and struggles.  What bothers you."

Xiao squeaked as he was picked up, blushing as he felt the Druid's manhood against him through his pants. He couldn't help himself from pressing down against him, squirming and letting out a quiet noise of want. "Exception... ah... there is just someone who he definitely does not claim as his, but... he seems to be exempt from the murder rule." He shook his head. "The... ah..." He whimpered. "What bothers me is this..." He reached for Jura's hand and brought it down to feel the bulge in his pants.

"You want to feel it.. you want to know what it feels like...."

Jura stopped, held his head still, cursed and whispered.  "I am going to ask you to save my life...."

There was a soft click and a large blue hand with a black glass dagger, pressed against the place on the back of Jura's neck that would end him instantly..  Vol'raka was fuming, purple with rage, armed, and very very dangerous.  The feral growl that came from him was not that of any sort of civilized troll.  It didn't even sound like Vol.  It sounded like an animal, a very protective and dangerous one.  Vol simply was not "there", Jura recognizing it enough that he lifted his hands up slowly and slowly put them down to his sides.

"Xiao Chun...  please go stand under that Far tree..."  He gestured to a very old tree a bit away.  "He smells you..  you are mate and I am enemy.  Treat this like a wild animal..."  Jura was calm about it, calculating and holding very still, except for the hiss from Vol digging his dagger slowly between the bones.  Xiao would see he also had his spear and long hunting knife.

Xiao paled when Vol appeared, a look of fear and panic in his eyes. His manhood instantly went soft as an anchor practically weighed down his heart. Aret would be able to feel this without a doubt through the link, whether Vol would feel or it was in a state to care was another thing entirely. Regardless, the feeling was one of utter sorrow, shame, pain. It was like a rock had replaced his heart and he felt unworthy. His eyes actually glistened a bit as if he held back tears. He took a shaky breath and stood, but he didn't walk away to the tree. Instead, he reached up, cupped Vol'raka's face, and tried to gently press their lips together. It was a kiss of love, desperation, fear, shame... everything he felt in the link multiplied. He loved Vol'raka more than anything and he hoped his touch would bring him back. "Vol'raka... please..." He whimpered, a tear finally falling down his cheek as he stared up at the rabid hunter.

Anger still radiated through the hunter, but he deferred to the pandaren, calming only enough to get between Xiao and Jura.  The threat was still there, Vol gently moving Xiao away from Jura by increments.

"Move slowly Xiao..."  Jura had not moved, holding absolutely still.  "He won't lash out at you."

Rustling came from behind them, Aret and Venya running down the lane between trees and tackling the big and now feral hunter.  Naddja came up behind screaming in same language that obviously Jura knew.    Chaos happened as Druids screamed at each other,  Aret had to sit on Vol'raka's shoulders and everything quieted far too suddenly.  Even Vol was silent as death, Aret commenting that he hadn’t wanted to knock him out.

"Aret, grab his shoulders.  Xiao, can you grab his other leg?  Jura.  get your clothes.  Everyone into  the bedroom Now. "  It was Venya who barked orders, looking down at his brother-mate.  "No one needs to watch this.  Family business.  You too, Naddja."

Xiao was hoping he'd have a handle on the situation and then suddenly everything went to shit as people came out of the woodworks and it turned into utter chaos. Xiao just squeaked and watched, tears falling down his cheeks silently, unable to move even as Venya asked him to help. This was all his fault, the guilt and sorrow pouring through the link like a tsunami. He wanted to run, to disappear, but he didn't have the nerve to make himself move one way or another.

"Xiao.  He's not gonna stay like this forever.  Left foot."  Venya pointed to the appendage, Jura even obeying his eldest brother.   Xiao would see Aret and Venya on his left side, Jura grabbing his right arm and the two bigger males grabbing his shoulders.  They waited a bit for Xiao, Naddja walking up to him.  "Cmon.  we don't need him going psycho out here." 

Xiao practically unraveled before their eyes. Despite how together he was at times, Aret and Venya specifically having seen his enlightened meditation, things of the heart could unravel him in an instant. He let out a sob and shook his head. "I-... I-I can't.... th-... this is my fault... I... I have to go... I... I have to..." He whimpered and before anyone could say anything else, a Chi cloud appeared beneath him and he flew away as his body visibly shook.

It was not Vol who was the predator right then.  It was Naddja who shifted, turning into a rather small ankylodon.  She huffed at him, using her head to push and herd the pandaren to the house.  "Xiao.   I am not scared of much, sweets, but when Naddja turns into a spiked rock and she has been baby sick all morning...  you need to go where Naddja tells you."  Venya would laugh, but maybe later.

Xiao was about to fly off when a sudden fucking DINOSAUR appeared and started butting him. He was so baffled and caught off guard that the only thing he could do was just follow, though still crying, but silently now. He didn't carry anyone, but at least he didn't leave.

Naddja on pandaren corralling duty, Venya picked up the other leg and threw both on his shoulder.  He'd laid with the big hunter that morning, what was one more time with your face in your brother-mate's short and curlys?  The three trudged into the house, Venya telling Pahre that Vol was having a bad day and to keep Tarja and Kin inside until one of them came to get them.

It took a while, but they got him into the bedroom, laid out on the bed, Aret tasked with stripping the big hunter down as Venya sat and pulled Xiao in his lap.  "Ok..  What did Jura tell you."

Xiao was still shaking lightly in Venya's lap, unable to look up from where he sat. "What do you mean what did he tell me?" He asked, the weight in his heart still making his very soul ache, poor Aret (and Vol, though he may be still too out of it to feel it) being overwhelmed with the waves of pained emotions.

"Jura is very knowledgeable, but he has a tendency to speak too much.  and ramble.  Why did he run to get his weapons, Jura.."  Venya was cradling Xiao in his lap, Naddja flicking her finger against Jura's ear.

"Speak up."  Naddja was back in her troll form, round with baby and with arms crossed.  "Spit it out!"

"OW fuck!  I told him Vol's been trying to breed him, I showed him pack form and we got excited."

Aret groaned, Venya and Naddja vocalizing a collective "Fuck me..."  It was Naddja who came her brother-in-law a look.

"You know they have a true mate bond, even as rare as it is and how your brother’s mind works and smells EVERYTHING.   You didn't think before you basically advertised to him that ‘Hey!  I'm a male who is not yours..   Your primary mate is here.  Smells like Sex..  Come running!’  Jura, you are an idiot."

"I thought he was training raptors today!"

"I was training.  I went to find Xiao."  Vol didn't sit up, but he looked at his mate and smiled.  "I love you."  His face was gentle, soft and welcoming.  Aret helped him sit up, Venya putting Xiao in Vol's lap as he curled around him protectively.  "Aret, Venya, Naddja.  Can I ask you to go to Binan and bring home an order of noodles?"

Venya nodded, grabbing Naddja and Aret.  "Cmon, It'll take a while.  Let's go order dinner for a while."

When they were gone, Vol didn't look at Jura, but kissed Xiao's tears.  "I heard...  you want to try him.  You want to know."

Xiao was practically catatonic until he was placed into Vol's lap, looking up at the hunter with tear-stained fur. He was still shaking in his love's lap, still silently sobbing as pain and sorrow weighed in his soul like a boulder. He barely was able to whimper out words. "I... a-am so... s-s... sorry... Please... Vol'raka, I... I didn't... mean to hurt you... anger you..." To say he felt unworthy was an understatement, and even with Vol's look of love, his words, the kisses... the Pandaren was still an utter wreck.

"You didn't anger me, little love.  I promise on the heart of our children.  I am not angry.  I .. Don't know what I was…  why I reacted like that.."

Jura sat on the edge of the bed, sideways with one leg hanging off the edge.  "Druid training would have taken care of that."    Vol shot him a look.  "Sorry.. Sorry.  It was not my intention to cause harm."

"No, but you knew better and should have come to me first, idiot."  Vol's fingers caressed Xiao's face, kissing him as he held his love, his mate close to his bare chest.  "I heard part of what he said...  Maybe its true."  He smiled looking down and angling Xiao's tear filled face to look him in the eye.  "Maybe I have tried to give you a baby since we met.  Maybe that's why I felt like I cheated on you with Tarja's conception, even if it was before we were together.  Before we met.  Maybe when I do smell you, know you want and need and desire to be loved, I think of you as my mate, in heat, ready for me.  I don't know.  I know that I love you, that I am not angry.  I acted out of protection.  It hurts me more to think I could have hurt you."  Vol's head dropped to rest against Xiao's.  “I am ok with you wanting, wanting to explore"  Vol pulled away, giving a dep, longing and loving kiss to his love.  "I have other mates but you are first in my Heart, my Xiao Chun."

Xiao's shaking slowly started to lessen when he heard Vol wasn't angry, looking up at him with such pain still in his gaze. It was only when Vol kissed him so deeply that he melted into his touch and that sorrow started to lift away, if only slightly. "I love you too, Vol'raka... more than you could ever know. It..." He whimpered and buried his face against Vol's bare chest. "The thought that I hurt you... I have never felt such shame, such pain. Not from my father, not from anything... except my mother's death." He murmured quietly, hugging Vol weakly. "I never would have wanted to do anything without telling you... without talking to you. We were just talking and... things progressed and..." He shook his head. "Nothing really happened, but I should have talked to you first." He didn't seem to process that it was also at least partially what Jura said that upset Vol as well.

"neither of you did anything wrong.  I just.. reacted.  You..  my sweet beautiful perfect Xiao.  You are my world.  I have to remember, and you have to remember that I will kill for you.  Jura is right when he says we need to only take Aret and I .  Venya is our mate, but he will want to have babies with Naddja before you and Aret have a go.  He's going to stay and take care of the farm."    He held Xiao close, rocking him softly.  "You can't lie to me.  You want to feel it..  the knot, the tie... "

Xiao blushed now again, biting his bottom lip. "I always thought your brothers were gorgeous... it must run in the family. I just always thought they were both straight. First Venya, now... Jura tells me he wants me too. Not as a mate like Aret or Venya, just... to share intimacy and closeness... friends who are lovers. You know no one will ever be able to replace you. No one can hold a candle..." He murmured, tentatively placing a kiss in the middle of Vol's chest before nuzzling his cheek against it.

"Venya is far from straight, he's kinkier than Aret's short and curlies, more than he lets on.  Jura..  you are what poly all the things?"

"I have Zaita to have children for me, other than that fair game.  So long as they are of age, willing and not food.  Gnomes and Goblins are out."

Vol nodded, giving kisses to his love, giving a tiny bite as he moved down the pandaren's neck.   "I have no doubt Jura isn't stupid enough to try and steal you.  You both are curious about each other.  You won't replace me, I know better.  We have our four now.  If it is a one time, or a lover...  I'm ok with it on a condition, Xiao Chun."

Xiao squirmed and gave a little noise as his neck was bitten. He squirmed and bit his bottom lip, looking at Vol and whispering quietly. "What condition...?"

"If you are together, you TELL ME first.  So I don't run in like an insane murderous bastard."  He looked Dead at Jura then.  "And for you..  you come within miles of him while I'm trying to impregnate him, not even Zaita is going to have your children because I will be eating Mountain oysters....  Troll style..  None from the time that first potion is taken until you are wholly male again.  So.. two conditions."  He pulled Xiao to look at him.  "Loa I love you, but soon I will not let any other male except Aret come close to you.   Your children will be mine.

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And yes, it is still planned for Ven to stay home with the children while Aret, Xiao, and I are on the babymoon.  Don’t worry, he’s getting to come on the honeymoon.