#the way he claps back to his uncle by saying that nobody would be spared violence and atrocity

[mewtwo24]

You know idk if it's just me being oblivious af but mxtx sure does enjoy putting her protags through the trolley problem when it comes to her works huh /j

[shewhorises-tjyj]

Felinette day 2 call out

Felix’s POV

His mother had forced him to go live with his cousin, ugh, so here he was, the entrance of his cousin’s house. Uncle was standing at the top of the stairs……again, seriously why does he always stand there. it’s like he just has a statue of himself at the top of the stairs that can talk.

“Felix, I trust you had a great flight I’m sure you would like to sleep of the jetlag but before that we have to set some ground rules.”

“first of all, I have enrolled you to Adrien’s school and I have made special arrangements for you to be in his class.”

Ugh, of course how could he ever forget, no running we have a reputation to uphold, photoshoots, fencing, Chinese- wait what?

“other than that, the other rules are the same: no running around we have a reputation to uphold……………”

ARE YOU KIDDING ME???! I have to go to his school and his class and look at his face? AND I’m miles ahead of all of them in everything!”

Obviously, he would never shout out loud like that so he stuck to his thoughts instead.

Tuning back into reality, Gabriel was done repeating the rules he had remembered by heart and dismissed him.

-The next day-

Adrien was already ready  and pointing at the door, “hey Fe, ready to go?” with a noise of confirmation they left the house.

-------------------------cue long drive to school with a hyperactive cousin-----------------------------

 “Good morning students” shouted (well not really shouted but he was standing next to her okay?) The teacher with red hair to which Felix winced at. “Today we have a new student joining us! And I’m sure you’ve all heard by now Lila’s home from her trip to Achu and she is back in school with us again.” he noticed something or rather someone who wasn’t here before, an Italian looking girl with chestnut hair that was tied up into what looked like three sausages and huge bangs at the front, with an olive skin tone and emerald green eyes that looked at him then at Adrien and had a look of confusion on her face. BUT! She then proceeded to IGNORE HIM. HIM! HE WAS A FREAKING INTERNATIONAL MODEL AND ACTOR AND THAT CAGNA IGNORED HIM! But whatever from the way she looked at his cousin she was probably a gold digging harpy. And his suspicions were correct when she greeted everyone.

“hi everyone,” she said in a fake sounding voice.

“Hi Lila!” the class sounded back. Lila? That’s her name?

“Oh~ a seat in the front row! You all remembered my hearing issues! You’re such sweethearts all of you~” “Mwuah!”

He inwardly cringed

“You have a hearing problem, Lila?”

‘hmm?’

“yes, I suffer from tinnitus. A constant ringing in my left ear. I’ve had it ever since the sound of an airplane engine burst my ear drums on the runway when I was saving Jagged Stone’s lost kitten.”

He had to admit her voice sounded genuine like it actually happened and he might have never found out she was lying if one, he was not an actor and could see the difference between genuine and fake faces and two, if her lies weren’t a load of bull. LIKE, COME ON! Which airline would let an UNDERAGE GIRL WHO’S UNAUTHORISED, ON THE RUNWAY? That airline would have closed down long ago if they couldn’t keep people from running on to the runway for reasons unknown.

The worst part is, yes there’s a worse part, his classmates seemed to believe the story she just pulled out of her ass. Well at least there was one student who doubted her.

“isn’t Jagged Stone’s pet a crocodile?”

“Now it is, yes. He had a kitten until he found out he was allergic to it.”

Deciding that everyone here was way too dumb and he didn’t want to lose any brain cells so he decided stop whatever quarrel was definitely going to go on.

Faking a cough, everyone seemed like they just remembered he was there. Even the teacher. If he were living in a comic or a cartoon there probably would’ve been one of those red crosses on his head.

“Right. Class, this is our new classmate, Felix Graham De Vanily.”

Hi’s, welcomes and clapping were heard around the room.

‘Could I just not have come?’

“Now Felix you and Marinette can sit in the back together. Also, as class president, Marinette can you show Felix around the school?”

“sigh, yes miss Bustier.”

When both of them sat down she started to introduce herself, “Hi, I’m Marinette. We can start the tour at lunch today and if you have any questions about the curriculum just ask me or anyone in the class.”

She said with a sad and tired smile.

…It looked… sincere…

Going with a simple nod they both turned their attention to the front.

After the tour he stayed back at the locker room near one of the corners. It was easy to blend into the shadows now that the people in Paris didn’t know him. despite being an international model (and sometimes actor) his face wasn’t well known as Adrien in France.

To that, he was thankful for.

Sticking to the shadows to read his book not five minutes in the girl- Marinette was it? Came back, and into the bathroom next to the locker room along with the sausage haired girl right on her heel.

“Marinette? Are you crying?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I can sense that you don’t like me but I don’t understand why, we barely know each other.

Don’t tell me it’s because of this new seating arrangement in class. It is! Of course, you were jealous because I’m sitting next to Adrien because you would have given anything to sit there yourself. You know what? It’s really not worth fighting a for a boy, you and I could be friends and who knows? I might even be able to help you with Adrien.”

Oh? Crush on my cousin? But it seemed like she was just cast into the back without her input despite all the others getting to sit at the place they wanted to.

“ugh. You and I will only be friends the day you stopped lying, Lila.”

So she knows she’s lying?

“I can’t prove it but I know for a fact you don’t have tinnitus, that your wrist is just fine, but you don’t know prince Ali cause’ you’ve never even set foot in Achu, and despite what you got Alya to write on her Ladyblog Ladybug has never saved your life.”

The first one definitely correct and so is the second one possibly, the third one might be a bt of a stretch and the fourth one, who the heck is Ladybug?

“I only tell people what they want to hear.”

“it’s called lying!”

“There’s nothing you can do about it anyway. People can’t resist when they hear what they like to hear. If you don’t want to be my friend, fine. But soon you won’t have any friends left at all and trust me, I’ll make sure you never get close to Adrien in class or anywhere. You’ve been a little less dumb than the others so I’ll give you one last chance: you are either with me or against me. You don’t have to answear right away I’ll give you the end of class today.”

Ok, first of all, were people supposed to hear that cause’ they were loud and secondly, what the heck school was he enrolled in??

The sausage haired girl walked smugly out of the bathroom.

“Hey Lila.”

“Adrien! We’ll have to figure out when you’re gonna help me catch up on all the schoolwork I missed. I also heard you play piano, my uncle’s a great pianist ‘Stroke Burrow Check’ she wanted to teach me when I was little but I had to stop playing because of arthritis. But when my wrist gets better, I’d love for you to give me some lessons.”

Didn’t sausage hair say uncle? why’d it change to ‘she’?

“Lila, I’m perfectly fine being friends with you and I’ll gladly help you catch up on your schoolwork but…please don’t lie to me like you did last time with Ladybug.”

Ah, his cousin knew she was lying. Wonder why he won’t step up for his classmate… unless it he never changed…

“Ladybugs the liar!”

“I’m not judging you, Lila but instead of making friends, you’re gonna turn everyone against you. You can tell me if there’s something bothering you. I can help. But you need to bee honest with me.”

“Are you trying to be some superhero lecturing me just like Ladybug did. Well, thanks but no thanks. Ugh.”

And with that the door slammed shut.

“I’m still here if you need catching up with your schoolwork.”

…is that a black glowing butterfly?...

…and did someone run out of the bathroom wearing a ladybug onesie?

“Hey!”

Snapping his head to the front he saw sausage girl pushing Adrien back a little.

“Adrien, I wanted to apologize for what just happened I’ve thought about it and you’re right I want us to be friends so I’ll never tell another lie again will you make peace with me?”

Then, she kissed Adrien on the cheek and… morphed into him?! what hellish nightmare place did his mother send him to?!

*insert falling to the floor sound* “Whoops! I lied.” *SLAM* huh. Sucks to be him it must be uncomfortable in there

“If this is an enchanted sleep what could possibly wake him up? Oh no, not an enchanted kiss. Please. Mmm nobody will ever know.”

Raspy low voice…can’t be a student

“Plagg? What happened? And what are you doing?”

“o-oh me? Nothing! I-I uh- Your friend Lila put you to sleep with an evil kiss. You should be more careful picking your friends!”

…it’s coming from the locker Adrien was in… should I go see what’s happening?... Nah not my problem

“Lila must have been re-akumatized! Quick! Plagg! Claws out!”

…The locker just glowed green...and someone in a cat costume just ran out… what the hell does Adrien do in his spare time? I have so many questions… you know what? I’ve seen weirder.

“Of course Ladybug saved my life. She never misses an opportunity to rescue her best friend.”

“Did your tinnitus give you vertigo when you went up the Eiffel Tower?”

“Oh no! Ladybug knows me so well that she brought me an ear plug to stick in my right ear!”

Again with someone named Ladybug…

“Grr.”

Hmm?

“Right ear? did she say right ear? This morning she said the ringing was in her left ear!

She’s not wrong… sausage hair did say the tinnitus was in her left ear this morning…

I’ve got her this time.”

Nice, things are finally getting interesting (oh Felix, if only you knew)

“Are you going to tell everyone?”

“Of course I am. Lila is-

“-A liar. Yes, I know. But do you really think exposing her will make things better?”

Did he just ruin the most interesting part of his day? Bitch. Try again.

“And who’s to say not exposing her will make things better?”

“But if you humiliate her, she’ll just be hurt more making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy-

“And has letting a so called bad guy do whatever they wanted ever make them a good guy?”

(“Ladybug and I are like two peas in a pod.”)

“Take for example, Bourgeois. Heard she’s the resident school bully. Has she ever changed?”

“She’s better-

“Wasn’t talking to you, Adrien. Has she treated anyone in your class out of the supposed kindness in her heart?”

“Well no but-

“There is no but. It just proves that even if you let the ‘bad guy’ do whatever they want they won’t become a ‘good guy’ also if you keep letting Bourgeois do whatever she wants your going to lose all your friends. I may not have friends but even I know that much. Think about it, how many times has Adrien stood up for you or any of your classmates when Bourgeois were bullying you and your classmates vs the times Adrien has stood up for Bourgeois for bullying you.”

“I-he uh, he stood up for the whole school when Chloe pulled the fire alarm and- uh”

“That’s just one time. Face it, Adrien stands up for bullies far more times than when he stood up for his friends.”

“That’s not true! I apologised-

“You apologised but did you stand up or defend your friends?”

Okay, so half of it might be about my grudge on him but it was true! Surprisingly, Adrien didn’t approach him for the rest of the day.

-The next day-

His seatmate, Marinette, sat down next to him, “Thank you. I never noticed I had always put Adrien up on a pedestal like he could not do any wrong. I never noticed that Adrien had some very questionable flaws.”

“Mm.”

And then she smiled at him.

His heart skipped a beat, the smile was sweet and sincere… and he found that she was rather likable.

@felinettenovember

[collabwithmyself]

1-2: Turnabout Transaction (2/2)

Miles hadn't meant to blurt out his trump card. He was stressed and cranky from the trial, and being face to face with the man that had happily ruined the life of a friend of his, had ruined the lives of so many people, had filled him with an indescribable anger that made him shout exactly the wrong thing in an effort to wipe that awful, disgusting smirk off White's face.

Now he was in the detention center on the wrong side of the glass, nursing a black eye that nobody had bothered to treat him for. Maya looked extremely disappointed in him... or at least, it seemed like she did. His glasses had broken upon the impact of White's fist against his face, and their remains had been left behind in the scum's tacky office.

"Do you realize how stupid that was, My?!"

"I'm well aware, I didn't--" Miles paused. "My?"

"Now what are you gonna do? Don't tell me this was your big plan to get me out of jail all along!" Maya thumped one fist against the glass.

"Miss-- Maya, it wasn't my intention to get assaulted or arrested. I certainly do not plan to take this turn of events lying down."

"You better not!" she shouted. She sniffled, and Miles suddenly realized she must be on the verge of tears. "I can't lose you too, okay, you dummy?"

"You... barely even know me..."

"But you stuck it out for me! Sis's killer is still out there, so... so... so you better not give up now, alright?!"

A weak chuckle escaped him. "I wouldn't dream of it."

⁂

But despite his most valiant efforts, everything seemed to be slipping through his fingers like sand. He'd almost had White cornered, could hear the panicked edge in von Karma's voice as she attempted to salvage the situation, but unless he could prove White had been there the day of the crime, it was all for nothing.

He squinted frantically at his notes, at the collection of evidence he had, but nothing was coming into focus. Maya had fallen silent beside him, perhaps sensing the inevitable defeat that was bearing down on him with all the force of a freight train.

"I... I apologize," he whispered to his companion. "It seems I wasn't enough, after all."

"Hey, shut up, Miles," came a voice from beside him that was most certainly not Maya's. He gave a start, then narrowed his eyes at the figure next to him. Taller than him, with arms folded... they had dark hair like Maya, and those robes looked like hers, but this couldn't be Maya. Could it?

"Think, Miles," they urged him, and the sense of deja vu that had been plaguing him since he stepped into court suddenly intensified. "What is it you need?"

His mouth felt dry. For some reason, he didn't feel as though he needed to be concerned about the identity of this stranger. "Pr... Proof White was in Mia's office the day of the murder."

"Alright, what proof is that?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure you've checked everything?"

"I'd very much like to," he snapped, frustration mounting, "but I can't see."

"What?" The figure leaned towards him. "What happened to your eye? What did you do to your glasses, you dingbat?"

"A-Are you going to help me or not?" He bristled at the overly familiar tone they were taking with him.

They sighed and reached over to start rummaging through his papers, bringing up the small sheet with Maya's name on it in blood.

"That doesn't prove he was there," he sighed forlornly.

"Yeah, it does." They turned it over. Miles leaned in, squinting as hard as he could. There was something printed on the other side, but he couldn't make it out.

"...I can't read this."

"Seriously, what happened to your glasses?"

"Just tell me what it says!"

"It's a receipt for that lamp in the office. You know, the one White broke beyond all recognition?"

"Yes, but he claims he saw it when he placed the wiretap a week before the murder."

"Aha. But this receipt is from the day before the murder."

Miles felt the cogs in his head shudder and suddenly start rolling again. He snatched the receipt from his savior's hand, thrusting out his arm frantically.

"HOLD IT!"

Things got messy after that. White tried to squirm his way out of it, and it almost looked like it'd work, but then the person next to him started saying names.

Names he knew.

Names only two other people would know, and one of them was on the witness stand.

Ignoring White's howling and von Karma's choking, he stared, uncomprehending, at the person beside him.

"Mia?"

"What? You--" The figure turned to him, and he distantly registered White sobbing. All of a sudden, the voice seemed so much more familiar. "Miles! Seriously! Where are your glasses?"

"Ah," he mumbled, and his vision darkened around the edges. "I think I'm going to pass out now."

And, presumably, he did.

⁂

When he came to, he almost expected the harsh smell of disinfectant and the steady beep of a heart monitor. Instead, he heard voices he faintly recognized, and registered that he was lying on a very uncomfortable seat.

He groaned and sat up, clutching his head as he attempted to get his bearings. "What..."

"Geez, My, your uncle says you passed right out!" came Maya's voice from somewhere nearby.

"Wh... Ray's...?"

"Don't act so surprised, buddy, I told you I was gonna be there for you today. Your little friend here just beat me to the punch for co-counsel."

"Maya's not even a registered paralegal," Miles managed to say as the world came back into focus - well, as much as it could with his glasses gone.

"Well, yeah, but I couldn't say no to that face." Ray chuckled.

"Did... did we win?"

"Yeah! You're not guilty!" Maya cheered.

"And Mr. White's been arrested," his uncle added, sounding proud. "Good work. Your dad would be impressed."

"I..." It all came back to him in a rush, and he leaned back. "...couldn't have done it without Mia."

Ray made a confused noise, but there was a clapping sound from Maya's general direction. "So it did work!"

"Huh? What worked, kiddo?"

"The channeling! I channeled Sis! I helped!"

"You what," Miles said.

"You know we come from a family of spirit mediums, don't you, My?"

"I... yes, but I didn't actually..."

"You are so dumb."

When he managed to pick his jaw up off the floor from that revelation and get to his feet, Ray pushed two things into his hands. One he recognized as his spare glasses, large and clunky. The other was, upon close examination, a key with a figurine attached to it via a chain.

Miles squinted. "Is... is this the Steel Samurai?"

"Hey!" Maya piped up. "That's my spare key! How come you have it?"

"Good question." He slipped the square frames on, frowning when he realized they were slightly small on him. Still, it was a marked improvement for his vision, and he was able to see his uncle shrug.

"Beats me. The lady told me to give it to you."

"Why would Mia give you my key?" Maya mused.

"Perhaps there's something at her office she wants me to see...?"

⁂

But a trip to the office revealed no new information. It was completely clean, like nothing had happened at all, but Miles still felt a chill when he stepped inside.

Maya knelt by the potted plant in the corner, examining it closely. "At least Charley survived," she sighed wistfully.

"Charley?" Miles repeated, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "You named the plant?"

"Hey, Charley is a valuable member of this office," Maya insisted very seriously. After a moment, though, her face fell. "Although he's not gonna be able to work here anymore with Mia gone, huh."

Miles's heart sank. "She worked so hard to secure this place for herself," he murmured.

"I know. And... and now we gotta clear it out, 'cause there's nobody to run the place." Maya was sniffling again. He hated that the sound was becoming familiar.

He searched desperately for something to say, but could only come up with a subdued apology.

"S'not your fault she's dead," Maya said, shaking her head.

Well, in a rather convoluted way, it sort of was, but he didn't want to get into that. Instead, he looked at the key Mia had chosen to entrust to him. The worn metal glinted at him like an SOS signal, and beside it, the Steel Samurai nestled into his palm as though it belonged there.

Why did Mia want him to have this when it didn't even belong to her?

He looked from his open palm to Maya, knelt by Charley the plant, and for a moment he swore he could see a glowing thread connecting the two. He stiffened and gasped as the answer struck him like lightning.

"Eureka," he blurted, before he could stop himself.

Maya looked at him and started giggling. "What did you just say?"

"Ngh--" Ignoring his rising blush, he cleared his throat. "I... I think Mia wanted me to look after the office. And after you."

He was not expecting a snort from Maya. "Oh, please. If anything, I've gotta look after you! You're a total disaster, My!"

Miles felt himself flush with indignation. "You are seventeen years old!"

"Yeah, but I didn't get punched because I accused somebody of murder with no one else around!"

"Nngh..."

"Face it, My, you need my help!" Maya had her hands on her hips, a confident grin on her face. "If you're gonna earn the money to keep this place, you gotta listen to everything I say!"

"I never agreed to--"

"First order of business is celebrating!" Maya grabbed his free hand, and with surprising strength for someone so small, she began dragging him towards the door. "There's this great burger joint just down the street Sis used to take me to whenever I came down to visit--"

"Wh-What?!" he squawked "Where do you-- does anyone else know you're here?!"

"Quit worrying so much, My, it's all good!"

"Maya!!"

⁂

You failed.

Not only did you fail to win this trial, you failed to keep your composure. Everyone could see you cry. Everyone could see you lose control.

A von Karma does not lose, and a von Karma does not cry.

You are not worthy of the prestige of your family.

It's like you're not a von Karma at all--

No. That's not true. You are Sascha von Karma.

Your name is Sascha von Karma.

A von Karma never accepts failure.

It's his fault. That man.

Miles Edgeworth.

He makes you sick.

He's going to pay.

[plumoh]

[FEH] weight

Rating: G

Word count: 2715

Summary: After spending time together, and realizing they have more in common than he initially believed, Roy thinks he and Annette are cut from the same cloth.

Note: AO3 link. I believe Roy and Annette would be very good friends and will find in each other companionship...they’re good kids. No spoilers for either game.

“Is this not… your preferred weapon?”

“Oh, not at all! My uncle sent me to the School of Sorcery, where I study hard. I was put through some axe training because of my family’s relic, but I’d rather fight with my spells than fight with… this.”

Annette gestures at the giant axe that is lying on the ground while they’re resting in-between treasure hunting sessions, her face twisted in something akin to embarrassment. Roy glances at the wiggling teeth and shudders; yeah, he wouldn’t want to wield this weapon either.

“I’ve never seen a weapon quite like that,” he says.

“Crusher isn’t the worst, trust me. Sylvain wasn’t summoned with his family’s relic, but the Lance of Ruin is terrifying and seems straight out of a nightmare.”

Fódlan’s sacred weapons look like they were cursed instead of blessed by the Goddess—nobody in their right mind would look at them and think they weren’t going to have half their energy sucked dry. Roy has been in Askr long enough to know some heroes are being corrupted by their own powers, and he doesn’t wish it on anyone who still has the chance to keep them in check.

Today’s hunting spot is near a cliff, where they’re supposed to gather materials to upgrade their armors, as usual; with so many heroes arriving each day, Kiran is determined to welcome them as best as possible with fitted armors and spare weapons in case something goes wrong with the weapon they were summoned with. It usually takes a while before anyone has to change their weapon, but they can never be too safe.

Roy is picking at some grass blades as he listens to Prince Leo and Peony talk about specific species of flowers good for insomnia, and he can’t help thinking that the words leaving Prince Leo’s mouth are from experience, rather than simple knowledge. They’ve stumbled upon each other many a time in the library at night, when both of them should be in bed resting instead of doing whatever research or studying they were up to—not that anyone else knows, of course.

“Have you studied magic, Lord Roy?” Annette asks with a small smile, apparently eager to talk about a subject she’s well versed in.

Roy frowns. “You can call me Roy.”

Annette’s eyes narrow and she shakes her head. “That wouldn’t be proper, you’re a noble from another country!”

“But you let me call you Annette, would you rather I call you Lady Annette?”

“You’re a Marquess’s son!”

“From what I’ve gathered Sylvain is a Margrave’s son, our statuses are the same, and you call him Sylvain!”

“...I haven’t thought about that.”

Roy resists the urge to groan. Why is it so hard for people to simply call him by his name?

Annette’s face is pinched, like she cannot determine whether it truly makes sense for her to be informal with people she’s fighting alongside with. Roy thought that people his age would also prefer be addressed casually by their friends and allies.

“Alright, I guess you’re right… Roy,” Annette says tentatively.

Roy smiles. “See, isn’t this better? There’s no need to follow etiquette so closely between friends.”

“I might take some time to get used to it...”

“That’s fine, don’t worry.”

Annette nods, still a bit anxious about it but Roy has learned that it’s just her simple state of being—worrying over everything and anything, making sure that she is doing her job correctly and that she isn’t inadvertently inconveniencing anyone. Well, at least he understands her desire to work hard to be as helpful as possible.

“To answer your question, I did study magic, but I’m not very good at it,” he admits. “My teacher was Cecilia. Lilina and I were her students, but she was much more talented than I was.”

Recalling those memories always brings a small tinge of disappointment; he logically knows that some people are naturally compatible with magic, and others are not, but he can’t help feeling a bit envious of anyone wielding a weapon in one hand and shooting spells with the other.

“Do you want to pursue it? We could study together!”

“I don’t think we’d be reading the same level of material,” Roy chuckles. “That would be wonderful, but I think it’s better if I keep training with the sword, which is a weapon that I understand better.”

He also doesn’t know if studying magic now would yield more results than it did years ago.

“Focusing on what you’re best at...” Annette mumbles. “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll gladly help you.”

Annette smiles at him, eager and kind, and Roy mirrors her expression.

***

It’s almost comical to see Annette and Lord Hector training together, swinging an axe at full force for a strength exercise. The Hector from Roy’s time is much bigger and cuts an even more imposing figure, but even in his youth he was a feared and powerful warrior. Lifting the weapon and tearing through dummies isn’t a struggle at all for Annette, despite her claim that she isn’t proficient enough in axes to be fully reliant in battle. Her support has been more invaluable than she thinks.

Lord Hector is laughing and clapping her on the shoulder, seemingly satisfied with the progress she’s making. Roy wonders if Lilina would train with an axe if it meant spending time with her father this way.

Annette dips her head and thanks Lord Hector, and they keep practicing more drills. Roy decides that he’s taken a long enough break and focuses back on the training dummy, shifting his sword and positioning it like a rapier for quick and nimble attacks. He’s wielded the Binding Blade for so long that he has almost forgotten how to fight with a lighter and thinner blade—it feels exhilarating to revert back to a stance his body is used to. He has used his time in Askr to polish his skills and to get accustomed to the heavy weight of the Binding Blade; he still has much to learn, especially from heroes more experienced than him who will provide useful insight about tactics and the battlefield, so he can’t relax just yet.

***

“I’m not as good at baking as Mercie, but I promise they’re tasty!”

Annette is shoving some berry tarts at him, eyes sparkling and face full of anticipation. She took it upon herself to find what kind of food the people of the army likes, and apparently it also includes desserts and sweets. Roy doesn’t particularly like sweets, but refusing such a treat baked with passion wouldn’t be courteous of him. He smiles at Annette and takes the tart, and chews slowly. Oh, that might be a good idea, actually.

“I like it,” he says sincerely. “It’s not too sweet.”

“I’m glad to hear that! I still have plenty of recipes to try for all kinds of occasions, I hope that the others will enjoy them too.” She pauses, then pinches her chin between her fingers. “Muffins are a good way to find what stuffing people like...”

Roy shakes his head, a bit amused.

“Do you always go to such lengths for other people?”

Annette’s face relaxes and looks just as warm as her voice sounds.

“I’m told I do too much, sometimes, but I can’t help it. I have to give my all in everything I do, and this includes making sure that my friends get moments of joy, too. And pastries always cheer people up! Well, most people.”

This, Roy understands; to be pushed by the drive of accomplishment, to please and to ensure everyone is happy and comfortable. In times of war, even the smallest attention can bring a smile on someone’s face, because there is still kindness in people’s hearts, despite everything. This is what Roy wants to believe, and Annette seems to share this point of view.

“You are a good person, Annette.”

Annette laughs, frantically waving her hands in front of her face. “I’m just doing what I can. I’m so clumsy that I’m relieved I haven’t caused any major incident yet.”

“Surely it isn’t as disastrous as you think it is?”

She makes a face. “I’m probably cursed to trip over a barrel even when I checked the halls were empty.”

He doesn’t mean to offend her in any way, but Roy chuckles at the image this conjures up. Annette crosses her arms over chest and frowns at him. She looks stern and ready to chew him out for laughing at her accidents, so Roy quickly composes himself.

“I’m sorry, mocking you wasn’t my intention,” he assures her. “Please be more careful, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“We should get rid of barrels,” Annette mutters.

“How would we contain wine and other liquids then?”

The question seems to actually spark an interest in Annette as she keeps frowning, but her face takes on a contemplative air. Roy rubs the back of his neck.

“Um, do you have more of those berry tarts? I think Wolt will enjoy them.”

“Oh! Of course, come with me.”

Annette takes his arm and drags him to the kitchens, and Roy can’t help feeling completely at ease, finding Annette’s enthusiasm and energy refreshing.

***

Sitting at a table in the quiet gardens, Roy is flipping through his battle tactics notebook when he’s jerked to the side and almost falls out of his chair.

“Roy, I need your help to fight against sword wielders!” Annette exclaims earnestly. “Lord Hector is giving me really good tips but I’m still struggling when a sword is pointed my way. With my magic I’d fight more easily and have faster reaction, but I’m still not used to Crusher and—”

“Woah, Annette, calm down. I accept?”

Annette looks like she hasn’t slept for days and is running on adrenaline or caffeine, but given her sweet tooth Roy doubts she even likes coffee. She sighs in relief.

“Thank you! The Professor is busy and the heroes from my world are already on a mission, so...”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m happy to help.”

And this is how they end up in the training grounds, though they’re using their real weapons instead of training ones. Roy supposes it makes sense; Crusher is hefty, dragging its wielder forward or backward, and seems to be channeled with magic, if the light orange glow is anything to judge by. It’s not a weapon you get accustomed to easily. Annette insisted he use the Binding Blade and to fight like they’re in a real battle—Roy trusts her skills and her strength, but it’s still a sparring session. He doesn’t want her to get hurt because of his carelessness.

Roy has never gone up against Annette before, but he can already tell that she’s a powerful and unpredictable opponent. The swing of her axe isn’t as fast as she probably would like, but she manages to be accurate and hit hard. The Binding Blade comes up to block the attack and pushes back, forcing Annette to step back. Roy tilts his blade and thrusts it towards her side, and before the flat of it touches her, she fully dodges to get out of harm’s way. She immediately springs back into action to smash Crusher over his shoulder, but even with her momentum all she manages to do is graze him.

They keep exchanging blows, parrying and dodging. If it were an actual battle, they most likely wouldn’t have been able to stand for so long without inflicting at least one serious injury. It seems that Annette is trying to prove something, or to assess her opponent. Roy stays silent though, continuing to swing his sword until one of them collapses or draws more blood than a spar would allow. Axe wielders heavily rely on brute force, but Annette is swifter and more nimble than most—her fighting style is almost similar to Echidna’s.

They eventually tire themselves out, and when Roy has the Binding Blade poised to strike Annette across the chest as she can’t lift Crusher in time, they stop.

“Thanks for training with me,” she says, a bit breathless.

Roy wipes beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, and because nobody is around to see them in this state, he decides to sit right then and there on the ground, gently laying down the Binding Blade and catching his breath.

“Did you manage to figure something out?”

Annette joins him on the ground, nodding.

“I’ve sparred against other people too, and I know that swordmasters tend to thrust and to go for the small openings, so I tried to use what I know against someone I’ve never trained with.”

“It makes sense.”

“That also brings me to the realization that I really do need to get used to Crusher and its power.” Annette rubs the bridge of her nose. “I just don’t understand why I was entrusted with my family’s relic so early. I’m clearly not prepared yet.”

Roy glances at the Binding Blade. Anyone could have met the criteria to wield such a mighty weapon; and yet, it was him who took on the burden to use it. People say that each weapon is unique and alive, and those inhabited by the spirits of warriors and their legacy even more so—those who take up Armads are cursed to die on the battlefield, and this isn’t a hearsay he wants to find out. Annette is looking for answers he wishes he had.

“I think that sometimes we are bestowed gifts that we only see as burdens, because others are putting their faith in us.”

He looks down at his lap where he clenches his fists. He hasn’t thought about this in a long time.

“They trust us to do the right thing, or at the very least that we will when we are able to. It’s like… they expect that our position will grant us the wisdom to do right.”

There are events out of his control, and all he can do is stand on his two feet to show that he won’t disappoint anyone who entrusted their life to him.

Two hands come covering his own, and he looks up to see Annette smiling sadly at him, though there is something like understanding flashing in her eyes.

“We are probably in similar situations, right?” she laughs weakly, as she nods towards the Binding Blade. “Those big weapons in our hands feel heavier than they should. Maybe something bad is going to happen in the future and this is why I was summoned here with Crusher, so that I can get used to it. Maybe it’s like you said, it’s a gift and I refuse to see its value.”

Her hands are warm and reassuring as she squeezes, still keeping her smile on her face even if her voice hasn’t shed its layer of self-doubt. Roy doesn’t think they will ever grow out of doubting their own abilities and worth, unless they learn to live with the expectations piling up on their shoulders. However, it doesn’t mean they can’t start now or take small steps to get there. He returns Annette’s smile and squeezes back.

“Refusing to see the value of the gift doesn’t mean you’re rejecting it. You’re working hard to master Crusher, that counts for something.”

“I suppose. It’s still frustrating to keep going without having answers.” She sighs and shakes her head. “But knowing that I’m not alone in this struggle helps a bit. I have to overcome my own fears.”

“It’s a long journey, but I believe in you. You’re resilient and resourceful.”

The laugh that escapes Annette’s throat is genuine. It’s not full of confidence, and this is not the solution she was seeking, but it’s close to one.

“You have a way with words, Roy! We’ll do our best together.”

Roy’s lips curl into a grin. “Our efforts will pay off, I’m sure of it.”

Annette pats his hands one last time before they get up. She hoists Crusher over her shoulder while Roy sheathes the Binding Blade; the sword is still a persistent weight against his side, one he’s become familiar with, but slowly, steadily, it will become a weight holding the proof of his achievement.

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 - fanfic) - Chapter 8 (1/3)

Previously on TWoT: Finally, Arthur went back to camp. On his way back he found Emily wandering around and decided to take her to Citadel Rock to get her lavender. On the way back they met some O’Driscoll and to help Arthur she ended up killing a man, her first man. He won’t be the last. 

Chapter 8 (1/3) - Bounty Hunter

Words: 2k

Emily didn’t think her little runaway would be noticed by someone and only when she and Arthur dismounted the horse she understood how worried and angry people in camp were. Mary-Beth came running and screamed “where were you?”. Right after Miss Grimshaw showed up telling her how disappointed she was by her behavior. 

In a few words: Miss Grimshaw thought her disappearance had something to do with the O’Driscoll thing and ran to tell Dutch and Hosea about it. Both of them weren’t pleased to know what she had done.

“Well, thank you very much. Really, thank you for your trust and for worrying about me” she murmured to the group of people who had gathered around her for the reproach. Then, moving Tilly aside, she walked away, with her head still full of all the recent events and especially the fact that she had just killed a man. 

She spent the rest of the evening lying down and crying. No-one bothered to go ask her something, but instead they went to Arthur to ask him what had happened. He told the story at least five times that evening, to five different groups of people and so everybody knew about their little terrible adventure. Hosea thought about go and talk to her, but he knew that his apologies were worth nothing. Besides he couldn’t understand the others’s behavior: she had just made a mistake, it wasn’t such a big deal. 

“A mistake that might have cost us our lives, Hosea. And hers first of all” Arthur told him.

“But it didn’t. History isn’t made of possibilities, but of facts.”

Arthur grunted and walked away, but he knew Hosea was right when he said everybody was being too tough with that girl.

The day after, Emily opened her eyes, still puffy because of the crying of the night before. It was still early in the morning and almost nobody was awake yet, so she sneaked among the tents and reached the kitchen where she took some canned peaches. Then, she reached the edge of the cliff and seated on the rock, her rock, to watch the sun rising in the sky. 

“Good morning.”

Turning her head she exchanged a quick look with Dutch before she fixed her eyes on the landscape again.

“Quite a fuss you caused yesterday. I think I’ve never seen Miss Grimshaw in such a…”

“I don’t care about how Miss Grimshaw was because of me” she replied coldly.

Dutch signed and walked closer until he stopped right by her side, but still she didn’t look at him.

“Well, you should.”

“I have apologized.”

“I’m not talking about apologies. When Miss Grimshaw acts that way is because she is worried about one of her girls, and yesterday she was worried about you.” “She didn’t seem worried, she seemed angry.”

“Exactly. You’ll soon understand Susan has her own way to show feelings.”

Emily didn’t know what to think: if what Dutch was saying was true, then those people really cared about her and they were really worried, and Miss Grimshaw most of all. So she forced herself to get over it, trying not to think anymore about Kieran, the slap, the run and the reproaches. 

She finished her peaches and walked to the kitchen. There, Abigail was sipping her coffee with Mrs. Adler and at Emily’s ‘good morning’ the former answered kindly while the latter moved her eyes away and pursed her lips in dislike. Was she still angry at her because of that story? 

“Mr. Pearson you still have that oil for me, don’t you?” she asked as he reached the cook.

He gave her what she had asked for and then she took an empty jar and the mortar. She brought all the tools and ingredients to the round table, took the lavender she had picked up the day before and put herself to work. 

The process was easy: she had to crush the lavender flowers with the mortar, let them dry in the sun for a couple of days, put them in the jar with the oil and make it cook in the boiling water for one hour. 

She had just began when Hosea walked closer with a cup of coffee. He sat down opposite to her and looked at her as she was working, taking a sip of the dark liquid every now and then.

“I’ve seen you do it often too” she stated as she crushed the flowers in the mortar. “What do you prepare?”

“Mostly medical stuff. Like yarrow and ginseng, together they’re great for health.”

“That’s why you knew where to find the lavender, you have a great knowledge of plants.”

“I have a discreet knowledge of plants” he chuckled.

“You are too modest.”

For all the time they talked, Hosea didn’t mention once Kieran nor her disappearance and Emily was glad of that. All she wanted was to forget that story and she wished she wouldn’t make other mistakes of that kind in the future. She was feeling rather pacific, finally getting over everything that had happened, when something slipped inside her mind, something she hadn’t thought about until that moment and that made her panic.

...

Hosea felt the change in her state of mind and immediately asked a concerned “what’s wrong?”

“I-I haven’t told you what happened with Arthur” she murmured with a new strange trembling voice.

Hosea knew what she was talking about and immediately calmed down, took a deep breath and got ready for one of his speeches. 

“He told me. Well, in truth, he told everyone.”

Her breathing was becoming irregular and that pushed Hosea to stand up and reach her side of the table.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again keeling down in front of her, but he didn’t need to ask, he knew what she was thinking about.

“I-I forgot. How could I forget?” she whispered with her eyes lost in the nothingness.

“About the O’Driscoll?”

Finally their eyes met. Arthur had told him about their encounter, about the aggression, about Emily shooting the man. It was her first killing, Hosea was aware of that, and she was pretty shocked, so shocked that her mind had erased that memory for a couple of hours.

“I killed him” she whispered.

“Yes, you did.”

There was no point in telling her not to worry, it wouldn’t have had any effect.

“You killed him, and you did it for a good reason.”

She frowned at his words, but they also had the desired effect to calm her down.

“What would have happened if you hadn’t shot him?” he asked.

She dipped in her thoughts for a second.

“P-probably he would have hurt me.”

“He would have killed you, and Arthur right after. You saved his life.”

“Saved his life” she echoed in another whisper. 

It wasn’t true of course, Arthur would have found a way to get out of that situation. Hosea had seen him fight against four men, so two O’Driscoll were nothing to him, but he needed to make Emily believe that what she had done was necessary, to let her accept it, and he had succeeded.

He smiled and stood up returning to his chair. She didn’t know he was a perfect liar and had believed him right away, which made him feel a little ashamed, but that was a lie for a good cause. She nodded a couple of times, lost in her thoughts, and then gave him a tiny smile.

“Thank you, Hosea” she murmured.

“I just tell the truth” he replied.

“I think I’ll go to Charles for the riding lesson” she said standing up.

“Oh, Charles is in town with Javier and Bill.”

“Really? Well, I guess our lesson is delayed then. I’ll go find something else to do.”

...

Emily found a corner in the kitchen to leave her lavender flowers to sundry and started wandering around camp to find something to do. Hosea’s words had calmed her. She wasn’t proud nor happy of what she had done, but thinking about it, she had done it in order to defend herself and Arthur’s life. Besides, that man was a criminal, part of the gang that had killed Sadie’s husband, he probably deserved to die.

What about Kieran then? She asked herself. Does he deserve to be tied there in that way? Emily shook her head. It seemed that the more she wanted to send those thoughts away, the more those thoughts came back to her. She had to distract herself.

She headed to her tent hoping that there she would have found a distraction. Maybe the girls could help her. Only when she got there she found a Mary-Beth, a Tilly and a Karen with long faces, and the air over them was heavy with boredom.

“What could we do?” asked Emily sitting next to them and assuming their same expression.

“We might find a job, if we had the chance to go to Valentine” said Karen.

The said chance soon arrived, when Arthur woke up and decided to bother poor Uncle, busy with his thinking. The four girls listened quietly to their conversation, with a giggling every now and then, and after the two men were done arguing, Karen made them all sign to follow her and she asked Arthur if they could go with him and Uncle. 

“Can Miss Grimshaw spare you?”

The girls complained about his question and after an exchange of looks Arthur decided to bring them in that rather useless expedition, and in case they had found something… well at least he could call it a day. They quickly got on the wagon and took the road to Valentine. 

“Ladies, sing us a song.”

Uncle’s request was soon accepted and the three girls started a little tune with a lyric full of double meaning to which Emily could only clap her hands following the rhythm. They had almost reached the train trails when a carriage pulled by two horses had an accident. Uncle used the lumbago excuse and the responsibility to bring the horse that had got loose back to the owner fell on Arthur.

From their following conversation, Emily understood it wasn’t in their style to help people in need, at least it wasn’t Arthur’s style, who affirmed he had robbed the man if it wasn’t for the presence of four fine girls like them, and it was at that moment that Emily wondered what kind of man Arthur was.

She knew so little about him and in that little time they had spent together he hadn’t appeared to her as generous as Charles, nor as kind as Hosea. Maybe he was hiding those parts of his personality, or maybe he just wasn’t like Emily had imagined him.

They leaded the wagon across that town that they knew so well now and stopped it right in front of the stable.

“Uncle, what are we doing?” asked Arthur jumping down the wagon.

“Well, we’re gonna do what any self-respecting maniac does: put the women to work.”

“I didn’t know you were such a gentleman, Uncle” laughed Emily following the three girls down the wagon and on the muddy street.

“We’ll start at the saloon, ladies” said Karen with a nod to Tilly and Mary-Beth.

“Oh no, not the saloon, please” whined Emily. She didn’t want to put a foot inside that awful place, the memory of what had happened still fresh in her mind.

“Don’t you worry, everything like that happens again, I’ll deal with the son of a bitch” said Tilly.

Emily smiled gratefully, but she didn’t want to go to the saloon anyway.

“What happened exactly?” asked Arthur, but Emily ignored him. She hadn’t told anybody about that pig she had met and how Charles and Javier had protected her, and she didn’t want to tell it now.

“Uncle, do you mind if I stay with you?” she asked.

“Not at all, my dear. We’ll just go to the general store for now. I have to get something there.”

“Okay ladies. Just pretend we’re in Paris” said Karen walking away with Tilly and Mary-Beth right after her. The latter turned around for a second and waved to Emily who made the same gesture to her. 

Arthur and Uncle headed to the store exchanging puns and provocations and Emily followed them, listening quietly and laughing to herself. Once inside the store the owner recognized Emily and asked her about the book. She replied with a few words but she didn’t want to start a debate with a man who wouldn’t have understood the social impact a book like that had had. 

Uncle took something to drink and eat while they waited for the girls. Arthur took something too, but when he aimed for the counter to pay Emily stood in his way.

“I’ll pay for you” she said taking the purchases from his hands and leaving them in front of the owner together with a chocolate bar she had taken for herself. “I still owe you for the clothes” she added when Arthur frowned at her.

“I had forgot. You could have said nothing and get away with it” he chuckled.

“It wouldn’t be right” she simply said.

Arthur shook his head and followed her outside. Uncle needed some more time to decide what to buy.

“So, what do we do?” she asked.

“I have no idea. Where did you get that money?”

“I worked” she replied biting her chocolate.

Arthur raised his eyebrows asking her to explain herself. Emily chuckled and with a nod of her head told him to follow her. She showed him the back of the apothecary and told him about what she and Javier had found out, all the setup with Bill, and the money they had gained.

“My Lord, you’re becoming a real outlaw, aren’t you?” he laughed in the end as they walked back to the main road.

“All I’ve been doing is stealing to some criminals and shooting another one, the same things policemen do everyday” she replied as Hosea’s words about the necessity of her actions came back to her mind.

“So, that’s how you see yourself? As a policemen?” asked Arthur ironically.

Emily laughed and turned to look at him, but something else caught her attention.

“Good morning, sheriff” she said stretching out an arm to greet the man under the porch.

“Oh, morning to you, Miss. How you doing?”

“Very well, thank you. We’re looking for work.”

The sheriff frowned, moving his eyes from her to Arthur. He was obviously considering her words.

“I may have something for your friend, if he’s interested in bounties.”

Emily and Arthur exchanged a look.

“Yeah, why not? So I can play the policeman too” he added in a murmur and Emily laughed again at his words. The two of them followed the sheriff inside.

“George, show the man the poster” he ordered to the deputy getting behind his desk and sitting down.

The deputy moved his cold skeptic eyes from Arthur to Emily and his face relaxed all at once. 

“Oh, Miss. Good to see you again. Not some other bar fight I hope.”

“No, don’t worry. Just looking for some work with my friend.”

“This is your friend?” he asked and looking at Arthur he raised an eyebrow.

The difference between the two was abysmal: she was tiny, clean, with a kind expression and sweet eyes. He was big, dirty, tough and mean. Their ‘friendship’ was pretty suspicious. 

Emily couldn’t see Arthur’s face because she was right behind him, but she was sure he had glanced at the deputy in a terrible way, because the man immediately looked away in embarrassment and walked towards the wall pointing at a poster.

“That’s the man. Benedict Allbright” he said.

“He’s being poisoning folks with his miracle cure from here to Annesburg.”

“A doctor?” asked Emily walking past Arthur to look at the paper. “It makes no sense. Doctors are good, they are supposed to help people.”

The deputy chuckled at all that innocence.

“Things are not always as they should be” he replied.

“Where can I find him?” asked Arthur taking the poster from the wall.

“North of here, straight by the gorge. That’s where they saw him last time” the sheriff informed him.

“You think you can bring him in? The pay is good, but we need him alive, though. I have to make sure the women he widowed get compensated before he swings.”

Emily looked at the poster and then exchanged a look with Arthur. He didn’t seem convinced.

“It’s fifty dollars to bring a murderer to justice. It’s a double reward from my point of view” she said with an encouraging smile.

Arthur snorted and shook his head: she truly had some strange ideas.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do” he said heading to the door.

“Thank you, sheriff, for giving my friend this chance” said Emily. “I guess we’ll see each other again soon” she added to the deputy.

“Miss” he replied with a nod of his head.

[mikrowrites]

Beautiful People

Armitage Hux x Reader, Kylo Ren x Reader

Hi! I'd like to request a Hux x Reader in a modern AU where the reader is dating Kylo Ren because of status and for public appearances. And in comes Hux and the reader has feelings for him and he feels the same way but they have to keep it secret otherwise it's a scandal that'll ruin everyone. Also Kylo knows but doesn't want to let the reader go because he's an asshole. Thank youuuuuuu

A/N: I’m so excited about this story, it’s so unlike anything I’ve ever written! I hope you all enjoy! xx

Warnings: angst, toxic relationships, adult situations, sexual references, language, those who love Kylo should not read this it hurt to write him like this oof

Y/N carefully picked up a diamond earring, rubbing it between her index and middle fingers. After a beat she lifted it up, looking into her vanity mirror as she placed on her ear, the other following suit, letting her arms fall to her sides.

She studied her own face in the mirror, to her elegantly styled hair to her perfectly done makeup. Y/N pursed her ruby red lips, her gaze hardening.

She hated the person in the mirror.

Y/N L/N was born into a prominent family, the only child of two political powerhouses. Her childhood had been that of a princess’s, perhaps even of an heir. Fitting, due to Y/N’s inevitable future of continuing her parent’s legacies.

So here she sat, wearing diamond jewelry in a $10k dollar dress, in a penthouse flat. Y/N let her eyes flicker away from her reflection to the opening of the door behind her. She turned, inhaling softly.

“You look beautiful.” Kylo Ren murmured, stepping into the large room. He wore an expensive black tuxedo, his raven hair slicked back and his shoes definitely red bottoms.

“You don’t mean that.” Y/N curtly replied, still planted onto her vanity stool.

Kylo clicked his tongue. “You are.”

Y/N scoffed, standing and walking to her closet, opening the door and stepping inside the walk-in, searching for a clutch. “What would you like me to say? You look dashing and handsome?

“Thank you, I tried.” Kylo responded, infuriating her further.

Y/N finally found the clutch she was looking for walking out and briskly passing Kylo. She paused at the door, turning with a tight smile.

“If you bring home your slut tonight, please be quieter this time.”

The circumstances of Kylo and Y/N meeting were very much prepared. Kylo himself arose from European royalty, but instead chose to leave for America, becoming a citizen and changing his name as a teen and anticipating the world of politics. His distant uncle Sentor Snoke took him under his wing, bringing him up into the desired plane. Y/N’s father found an arrangement of Y/N and Kylo beneficial on many fronts, as much of a 21st Century arranged romance as you could get.

They had know each other for years, since their early twenties when they met during both of their studies at Harvard. Kylo and Y/N were actually friends once, unloading griefs upon each other, Y/N about her stifling parents and Kylo on his past dreams. He once wanted to be an Air Force pilot, once wanted to be an artist.

But as they were arranged, they grew cold, and as Y/N dreaded this appearance-cast relationship, she suspected Kylo did as well, though he tried, sometimes.

The car ride to the benefit was incurabley long with traffic, a thick silence hanging between Kylo and Y/N. The city noises were only apparent, Y/N casting her gaze out the shaded windows.

“Are you going to be like this all night?” Kylo finally spoke up.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Y/N mumbled, still gazing at the city lights, “I’ll be a good little girl for us tonight.”

Kylo sighed. “We should announce an engagement soon. Call a tabloid or two and tip them off. Would be good press.”

Y/N turned to look at him with full eyes, casting her gaze down. “Trapped with each other forever.”

“You make it sound like prison.” Kylo growled, “We can come and go as we please. Put on a show for the idiots.”

Y/N finally met his eyes, biting her cheek. “Give me a few weeks, if you could be oh-so-kind.”

Kylo rolled his eyes as the car pulled up to the venue, the sounds of cameras flashing and paparazzi flooding the night. Y/N exhaled loudly, staring ahead. “Let’s give them a show.”

Armitage Hux was not an obscenely wealthy man. His father was big money, and Hux, he delved into politics to appease his father, climbing the ranks.

The benefit gala was a horrid idea in his opinion, too much frill and preening of celebrity-level politicians, who reeked of corruption and pretentiousness. But Hux went along with it, agreeing to help sponsor and put in an appearance.

Hux dreaded that his life would be married to politics, maybe a wife who was as money sick as everyone else, maybe one day he’d become as ugly as them all and become unbothered by the people he encountered.

He made his way past paparazzi, into the venue where he breathed a bit, walking up to a man in a crisp and ornate Air Force uniform. “I don’t like this idea.”

“Oh come on,” Commander Poe Dameron chuckled, clapping Hux’s back. “A little party never killed nobody.”

“Never say never.” Hux groaned, the Guatemalan-American raising an eyebrow.

“Look, I hate this arrangement too. But Princess Organa needs information, sometimes you have to play dirty.” He smirked.

Hux despised working with the royalty. In fact, he wanted nothing to do with them. But when the offer to bring down Kylo Ren showed itself, Hux couldn’t refuse. He hated that man, his arrogance and disgusting holier than thou complex. So he became a “spy”, if you will.

“So long as the dirt stays off my hands.” Hux spat, walking away from Poe.

Y/N walked down the carpet with Kylo, smiling at the paparazzi as they shouted praises and controversies. She hated this part the most, but Y/N had a remarkable and unreavealing smile.

Inside the venue Y/N and Kylo relaxed a bit, but they still knew the motions of the parts they had to play. Kylo, a ruthless politician and Y/N, a loving girlfriend.

Y/N was standing next to Kylo as he introduced himself and was speaking with someone prominent as she found herself scanning over the room. Her eyes gazed over every person until they suddenly stopped, zeroing in on someone.

Hux stood with a flute of champagne, forcing smiles at pretentious billionaires until he felt a stare embedding into him. He turned, his eyes meeting that of a beautiful girl’s. Not just any beautiful girl, Kylo Ren’s girlfriend.

Hux nodded, Y/N smiling back. He read her expression, it was clear she’d rather be anywhere else. But what could Hux do about that? His heart did not race, his cheeks reddening, a cold sweat breaking out, absolutely not... right?

How could one pretty girl reduce Hux to this? A taken girl, by his enemy! He turned away from the girl, but still felt her gaze on him unwavering. She always held that affect upon him.

Y/N’s smile widened a bit as the red-head turned, still observing him intently. Kylo leaned near her ear, speaking in a deep voice. “Remember what you promised? Be a good girl.”

“Yes, your highness.” Y/N hissed through an unsuspecting smile, feeling Kylo tense at the hated nickname.

He grasped her wrist tight, Y/N gasping in surprise as Kylo pulled her close to him, his breath warm on her face. “Never fucking call me that again.” He then kissed her softly on the cheek, turning away to greet another wealthy businessman.

Y/N smiled sweetly, muttering about using the bathroom as she walked away, rubbing her wrist as she weaves through the crowd.

Hux pulled her aside once in the hallway, Y/N quickly pushing him against the wall. She grasped the man’s suit, ravenously pressing her lips against his. The man, grasped her shoulders, pulling her back. “Missed me that much, sweetheart?”

Y/N smirked. “I like a handsome man in a suit.”

“Obviously.” Hux smiled tightly, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “You look ravishing.”

“Armitage Hux, such a charmer.” Y/N chuckled. “We should just walk out there arm and arm, give the cameras something to squawk about.”

Hux’s smile dropped slowly, resting his forehead on Y/N’s, sighing. “We can’t.” he whispered.

“No, you’re right.” She mumbled, closing her eyes. “Just... hold me a bit longer.”

Hux wrapped his arms around her, his hand clutching the back of Y/N’s head.

“I’ll hold you as long as you wish, my dear.”

Y/N and Hux had met years and years prior, before she had even met Kylo. She was seventeen, visiting Dublin with her family when she encountered him. Hux was graduated from highschool, enjoying a gap year of foreign policy and preparation to embark to America.

They immediately clicked, becoming good friends and having weekly lunches at a local New York Dinner. They were close for a few years, until the letter from Harvard came and she flew away. Where she met Kylo and the whole mess began.

Whatever was happening between Y/N and Hux, call it an affair or call it a relationship, had been continual over five years.

Y/N suspected Kylo knew, but with unknown women weekly in their spare bedroom, she felt as though it never really mattered.

Hours later Y/N was climbing into the black SUV again, Kylo sitting across from her. The city lights blurred outside the window, a light drizzle of rainfall fogging the windows.

The two were silent. Y/N rested her chin in her hand, staring out the window, as Kylo stared comprehensively at the woman before him.

“You saw him.”

Y/N turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

Kylo scoffed, sitting back. “Didn’t you?”

She leaned forwards as the car pulled up to the apartments, the girl narrowing her eyebrows.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Y/N stepped out of the SUV, Kylo following as she stepped into the private elevator, pressing their floor number and swiping her keycard.

Kylo suddenly grabbed both sides of her face, kissing her deeply. Y/N raggedly gasped in shock, stumbling back as he pushed her up against the wall. She squirmed under his grip, finally breaking away and elbowing his chest, Y/N retreating back. Kylo licked his lips, chuckling as he turned to look at the elevator door as it chimed open.

He turned to look at her. “You’re mine. It’d be better for you not to forget that.”

Y/N’s lips parted, watching as Kylo walked out of the elevator and into their flat. He slammed their bedroom door behind him, the girl finally wandering into the penthouse. She unclasped her shoes, removing them and tossing them on the floor. Her dress hugged her body, but to Y/N it felt like it was suffocating her.

She sat on their plush couch, running her fingers across the fabric as her breath began to catch in her throat, Y/N gasping for air as tears began to trail down her cheeks. A broken sob escaped her lips as she began to rip pins out of her hair, her Y/H/C locks spilling out.

She knew Kylo could hear her despair. Could hear Y/N cry and sob and fall apart. But he never emerged to comfort her.

Y/N woke the next morning on the couch, still wearing the dress she used to love so much. She sat up, rubbing her head and catching her reflection in a wall-hanging mirror. Mascara tracked down her face, her hair a mess. After changing into a different shirt and shorts from the outside closet and cleaning her face Y/N sighed, standing and walking to the kitchen.

She carefully pulled a glass from the cabinet, turning on the faucet to fill it with water.

“Oh!”

Y/N whipped her head around. A young girl stood in the living room, her dark hair loose around her shoulders and a dress shirt, Kylo’s red dress shirt from the night before, covering her body.

“Hello.” Y/N softly replied, turning to switch off the faucet, taking a sip of water as she turned. “Would you like a glass of water? Something stronger?”

The girl’s mouth opened and closed, her features contorting into confusion. After a couple tense seconds she spoke. “Why... what’s...”

Y/N leaned across the counter, smiling softly at the girl. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated for a moment. “Rey.”

“Rey,” Y/N sat her glass down, interlacing her fingers. “I’m not stupid. I know you’ve been fucking Kylo for a while now. And honestly, I could care less. But here’s the thing,” She pushed away from the counter, approaching Rey. “you’re in dangerous water, Rey. This tiny world, this life. It’s not glamorous. And the last thing I want is for him to hurt you.”

Rey exhaled deeply, leaning against the back of the couch. “I’m... I’m sorry.” She pushed some hair behind her ear. “Kylo... he’s always been so kind to me. He told me, that you and him—“

“We’re simply a game.” Y/N smiled. “A game we can afford to loose.”

Rey left soon after, Y/N sitting in the living room going over several pieces of finance paperwork for her father’s firm. Kylo finally emerged from the bedroom, Y/N not skipping a beat as her eyes remained glued to the paper. “Rey is a sweet girl.”

Kylo’s face hardened. “Hux is an... interesting man.”

Y/N looked up, the papers falling down onto her lap. “Kylo, what are we doing? We both love different people, maybe we should just call it—“

“No.” Kylo frowned. “Terminating this relationship for other people would ruin us. All of us.”

“What’s the point anymore?” Y/N countered. “You’re powerful, I’m just a mantelpiece, and Rey would make a great—“

“You aren’t listening!” Kylo shouted, interrupting her. “I sacrificed everything to be here. I refuse to do that again.”

Y/N stood, the papers tumbling and fluttering out of her lap and onto the hardwood floor. “Why can’t you just let me go? We never loved each other, Snoke manipulated you into this relationship, into this role!”

“You always blame everything on Snoke, too scared to admit your faults.” Kylo spat.

“My faults?” Y/N yelled. “Mine? You are so fucking toxic, Kylo! You’re a fucking hazardous chemical!”

The slap echoed throughout the room, Y/N stumbling back and clutching the arm of a chair, reached her hand up to her cheek. She shakily looked up at Kylo, her eyes reflecting fear. She always thought of Kylo being all bark, no bite.

Y/N never thought he’d hurt her like this.

“Fuck. You.” She seethed, standing and shoving past Kylo, grabbing her coat and keys as she walked into the elevator, glaring at Kylo as the doors closed.

An hour later Hux answered a knock at his door, only to meet Y/N with sunglasses adorned on her face, her hood up. “Hey Armi.”

“Hey Y/N/N.” Hux responded, gesturing for her to come in. “To what do I owe the pleasure.”

“I want to leave. Somewhere far away from here, from politics and Kylo and the people. I want to disappear, and I want you to come with me.” Y/N insisted in a level voice. She removed her sunglasses and hood, Hux’s eyes widening at her bruised face.

He raised his hand up, carefully running his thumb over the bruise on her cheek before rushing to his freezer, returning and handing Y/N a frozen vegetable bag. “He... did he do this to you?”

“I can’t live like this anymore, Armitage.” Y/N pleaded, the girl pressing the bag against her cheek. “Remember when we went on that holiday to Greece?”

Hux’s face softened. “The one where you publicly fed birds whole gyros?”

Y/N smiled. “Yeah. That one. Let’s go back, let’s go and forget all of this. Please.”

Hux sat on his couch, Y/N settling down next to him. “It’d ruin us. Destroy our reputations, hurt any of our chances.”

“We’d be crazy to reveal such a scandal.” Y/N mused.

Hux reached over to pick up his laptop, flipping it open.

“When do you want to leave?”

[mai-nonsense]

Basics: 2, 6. Appearance: 4. Personality: 3, 8,9. Background: 1, 5. Relationships: 1, 3, 4, 7. Fun facts: 1, 7, 10.

*claps hands together* Alright! I'm going to do the answers for my Shepards, otherwise I'll be here all week.

2. What does their name mean? Why are they named that?

Jane: The original reason she's named that is because I was too lazy to think of a name so I just went with the default (she was my first ever Shepard), now I Headcannon that she went by Shepard until she joined up with the alliance, so she chose the name Jane because it's the only one that came to mind

Cassidy: I don't really pay attention to what names actually mean when I name characters, but I named her that b/c it's pretty and she just kinda looked like Cassidy

Henri: Henry is a family name on both sides of my family, but I wanted to use it as for a femshep b/c I like androgynous names (partly because I have one, but also because I think there should be more of them in circulation)

Damien: His name was originally Darren but I changed it b/c my sister and mum pointed out that Darren's a bit bogan. And instead of owning it I covered it up like a coward. I renamed him Damien because my favorite Robin is Damian Wayne and litteraly no other reason

Vance: named after the singer Vance Joy, b/c his songs have a lot of emotional significance to me and I like the name

Ryan: he's my only actual Canadian Shepard and my mum and I have a running joke about all Canadians being named Ryan (b/c of Ryan Reynolds, Ryan Gosling etc.) So he's Ryan.

6. What's their star sign, birthstone etc? Does it hold any special significance for them?

All of them besides Vance have Shepard's canon birthday and none of them besides Cassidy have any belief in that kind of thing. Cassidy is a quietly spiritual kind of woman so she likes the whole star sign/ birthstone kind of thing, but she'd never admit out loud.

4. Appearance- How do they carry themselves? What is their default expression?

Jane has resting bitch face. She walks around like she's going to go beat someone up, probably because she usually is.

Cassidy has a very casual, approachable demeanor about her. Her go-to expression is either concern or pouting.

Henri carries herself shoulders back, chin up and head held high. Her usual expression is a mix of serious and thoughtful

Damien carries himself like a serious soldier but with a hint of sadness, he has resting sad face

Vance also walks around like he's looking for a fight and he's usually scowling

Ryan has a cocky swagger and usually has a sideways smile on his face

Personality 3. What are their hobbies and interests?

Jane: Is gun-modding a hobby? Because if so then that's one of them. She genuinely enjoys the combat part of being a soldier and enjoys training herself to be a deadly weapon, a side effect of growing up in the reds most likely. She doesn't really have many interests outside of being a solider, and doesn't really eat anything outside of protein bars and ready-meals.

Cassidy: she likes to mod games in her spare time, and practices her hacking skills a lot in order to keep herself sharp. She has a fondness for Turian and Salarian pop-culture, video games especially.

Henri: Henri likes hard copy books, with old-fashioned dust jackets and everything. Even with new release publications, she'll always go out of her way to find a hard copy if she really wants to read it. She usually reads non-fiction but she's a sucker for a good romance novel.

Damien: Also throws himself into his work so much that he barely has any free time. On the rare occasion that he does, he likes to build things, usually model ships or card towers (which he knocks down immediately after)

Vance: Vance actually really enjoys cooking, it's something he used to do with his mum when he was little so it's his way of keeping her alive in spirit

Ryan: Ryan has a penchant for old earth comic books and music from the 20/21st century, he likes to draw and regularly carries a sketchbook

8. What are their manners like? Any habits?

Jane's manners are atrocious. She's straightforward, tactless and blunt, which gets her in trouble quite a bit. She's not a fan of sparing feelings, if you're doing something that's pissing her off, she'll let you know

Cassidy is also pretty blunt, but has a lot more tact and isn't as crass as Jane. She's nice whenever possible but she doesn't skirt around issues

Henri is anxious people-pleaser that always looks for the best in everyone at heart, but has a polite but proffesional exterior.

Damien varies depending on his mood, Mass Effect 1 Damien is polite and proffesional but that drops as time goes by. By the time ME:3 rolls around he is 1000% done and doesn't have time to put up with anyone's shit and reacts to social situations accordingly

Vance goes in the opposite direction to Damien, starts off rude and aggressive but gradually softens as time goes by.

Ryan has decent manners, but can often be inappropriate in social situations

9. What are they most afraid of?

Jane: before falling for Kaidan, it's falling for Kaidan, because she hates having intense emotions about people that she can't control. After falling for Kaidan, it's anything bad happening to Kaidan. She doesn't really care for her own well-being but she constantly worries about and will protect her friends and loved ones at all costs.

Cassidy: Dying. Specifically, dying again and Garrus continuing down the dark path she found him on after her resurrection. She'd hate for him to completely lose hope like that again.

Henri: dissapointing those around her.

Damien: Also letting everyone down.

Vance: Everyone he cares about dying painfully.

Ryan: spiders.

Background, 1. Where were they born, what was their childhood like?

Jane was born in Brisbane, believe it or not, she gets carted off to one of her aunts in America at age 4. After that it's foster home to home for her until she ditches them for the reds at 10. Needless to say, her childhood was rough.

Both Vance and Henri were born and raised on Mindoir. They both had good childhoods until Batarians killed their families.

Damien was born in Chicago. He spent his childhood being bandied about from alliance ship to alliance ship. He spent a lot of his childhood alone.

Cassidy was born in New York, but has the spacer background. Her mother had a much more caring presence then Damien's however, so she grew up well.

Ryan was born in Montreal, spent his childhood in and out of foster homes until he was 14, when he joined the reds for protection. Despite this, he views his childhood in a positive light, as he knows he's come a long way since those days.

5. Where do they currently live? What's their place like?

I'm going to skip this one because I don't have a good answer for any of them at the moment lol.

Relationships, 1. Do they have any friends? Who would they consider their best friend?

Jane has more friends/people who care about her then she thinks she does. She considers her best friend to be either Miranda or Liara.

Cassidy gives off chill older sister vibes and treats her crew as family, so a lot of people come to her for support or just for an ear. She loves talking tech with Tali and considers her to be her best friend, with Ashley coming in as a close second.

Henri initially has more colleagues then friends, but she learns to loosen up and to have a more relaxed approach to the people she cares about. She considers her best friends to be Kaidan and Joker (though her feelings for Joker develop into something more ever time)

Damien has the ruthless background, so he's more feared then loved. He's also quite socially awkward so it's hard for him to make friends to begin with. Despite this, the people who do call him friend do so wholeheartedly. He considers his best friend to be Garrus.

Vance, despite being an asshole, actually has a lot of friends. Because he's a loveable asshole. His best friend is either Liara or Jack.

Ryan is very likeable, and is often the life of the party. But people more look up to him then actually consider him a friend. He considers Kaidan his best friend. (who he's also secretly in love with, but shhhhhhh we'll get to that)

3. What's their love life like? Do they have any kids?

I'm currently using Jane as my "Kaidan as subject zero AU" Shepard, because I think she fits so well with subject0!Kaidan, as I love writing stories about two hardened badasses who just want to be loved, falling in love. Non-au Jane also ends up with Kaidan, and have a daughter named Astra

Cassidy is one of my two Shakarian Sheps, who gets the more 'traditional' happy ending out of the two. That is, she retires somewhere nice with Garrus and they adopt a bunch of orphans together.

Henri is my one and only Joker-mancer, one of these days I will write their story (once I finish planning it out lol) but I currently have other projects at the forefront. As for kids, neither Henri or Joker want them because there would be to many medical factors/lifestyle changes they'd have to consider and they couldn't put that burden on a kid.

Damien's life motto is: no kids, only dogs and he manages to stick by that pretty well. When Vance (his half-brother) has kids he settles into the role of cool uncle though. Though Damien thought he wasn't one for romance at all, he somehow fell in love with Kaidan without realizing it and they eventually end up together.

Vance and Ashley fall hard for each other, and after many hardships and triumphs, they eventually marry and have three kids together

Ryan sleeps around a bit but spends the duration of ME:1 and 2 pining for Kaidan but never saying anything b/c he doesn't want to make it awkward™. Naturally they end up together but it takes a while. Am currently undecided on whether they have kids together or not.

4. Who do they look up to? Who do they trust?

Jane: Anderson. He took her under his wing and believed in her when nobody else did. She comes to trust her inner circle in time. That consisting primarly of Kaidan, Miranda, Jack, Liara, Garrus and Wrex.

Cassidy: Her mother, as she managed to give her a good childhood while in the military as a single mum. She trusts Garrus and Tali with her life.

Henri: Anderson and Hackett both, as they've always pushed her to do her best. She trusts in her crew, as, in her eyes, they've never let her down.

Damien: Hackett, as he gave him a second chance after Torfan and promised him that he wouldn't let him down. People don't trust him on impulse so the people whose trust he earns always have his in return.

Vance, Anderson and Samara. Anderson because he helped him after he lost his family on Mindoir and Samara because she's a powerful biotic with a commanding presence and he learns a lot about discipline from her. Vance eventually learns to trust Damien after not wanting him anywhere near his life for a long time.

Ryan: He tries to find a way to learn at least something from everyone he encounters, good or bad. He doesn't really trust anyone for a very long time but gradually comes to trust in his ME:3 crew

7. Are they good with kids? Animals?

Jane: Surprisingly, yes. Though it can depend on the kid or animal in question *cough star child cough*. She strives to protect those who can't defend themselves and improve lives for future generations.

Cassidy: Very good with both.

Henri: She grew up a farm girl, so she's pretty great with animals. She's good with kids until they start screeching and then she promptly nopes out.

Damien: Good with animals, dogs in particular. Is okay with kids, but doesn't really like interacting with them unless he has a good reason (like them being his niece and nephews).

Vance: Despite growing up a farm boy, he's not too big an animal lover. He loves his own kids, but isn't too big on them in general.

Ryan: Used to hang out with stray cats as a teen. Decent kid-wrangler™.

Fun facts, 1. Which tropes do they fit? which archetypes?

Jane fits the "does bad things for a good goal" trope and potentially fits the stereotypical "bad girl" archetype as well

Cassidy fits with the "protective matriarch/sister" archetype/trope

Henri gives me "girl next door", but with a gun, vibes

Damien fits the "everyone thinks he's evil, but he's really just misunderstood" trope

Vance is def an "asshole with a heart of gold"

Ryan's a himbo

7. What languages do they speak?

Vance knows a tiny bit of Mandarin, and Ryan speaks okay Canadian French, everyone else speaks English and only English for now, though that may change as I find out more about them.

10. What songs remind you of them?

Jane: Missile, Dorothy

Cassidy: Dead Weight, PVRIS

Henri: CHAMPION, Bishop Brigs

Damien: The Phoenix, Fall Out Boy

Vance: What's Up Danger, Blackway ft. Black Caviar

Ryan: You're Gonna Go Far Kid, The Offspring

WOW. I just did a big old-fashioned info dump right there. Sorry about that.

Thanks for the ask!!!

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

2. Part 2

Watching Royalty jump on Hoody, my daughter is always wanting something from someone but they will always give it her because she always gets what she wants “meme is here” I announced, my mother called me and of course she knows that Royalty is staying here. Dragging my feet along the marble flooring and to the couch, my home is ever so quiet now that everyone left. Hoody really got my back for doing this because if he weren’t here then I would be fucked “look Roro, we can’t go and get toys. Your dad’ home is like Disneyland, let’s do something else?” looking behind me and at my mother, she doesn’t seem best pleased but then this is my child, if she wants to stay here then she wants to stay here “awww my beautiful baby” Royalty ran over to my mom to hug her “hi meme, I am staying with my dad. We’re going to watch a movie now!” she yelped out “awww am I invited?” my mom asked “erm, usually meme you are but today is just daddy and me. We can do it next time!?” Hoody laughed “I guess that is me being evicted?” nodding my head laughing “I guess it is” watching him get up, Royalty has set my day out and she doesn’t want to hear any different, this is daddy and daughter day and nobody will get in her way “awww ok, can I speak to my son and then you can both spend time together” this sounds fun, getting up from the couch “stay with uncle and I will be back” touching the top of Royalty’ head “I will wait here, actually play games. Come!” walking around the couch, I just don’t see why the women around me are jumping around that my daughter wants to be with me. Am I that bad, am I not capable of taking care of her because I think I am. She is pretty much grown and can do a lot of her own things but what can I say, who am I when all these grown ass women be complaining.

Closing my studio door behind me, imagine bringing me to the studio. She wants the room to be soundproof for the rant she is about to have “what happened? Nia called me and said maybe I could talk to you into and also her to make you both come to my home? Nia is concerned that you can’t do it” I groaned out rubbing my forehead “you all sound crazy, what the fuck? Are you being real right now, that is my daughter. What the fuck you think is going to happen? Tell me!? You’re making it sound so sinister, Hoody is going so it’s me and her. We spend time together and have fun, what is your problem?” I don’t get why they are making it into something “because she is safer with me Chris, that is the rules. I take care of her and also Aeko now, you aren’t capable of taking care of them, you are taking drugs and I know it, you’re stood up strong now but midnight will hit you and you will be down here taking something while she is up there, that is dangerous and I do not like it, you will give her to me and tell her no” opening my studio door “I want you gone mom, leave now. I am staying with my daughter in my home, forget you all” the fucking rules, there is no fucking rules they are all fucking deluded talking such fucking shit about my life.

I am still raging from what my mother said, she left, and I locked my home up and we good “look dad, I can do my own hair. I don’t need you” smiling at Royalty in her PJs, she has tied her hair back ready for bed “you got big ears like me” Royalty placed her hand over her ears “dad!” she yelped out “don’t you want to be like me Roro?” I am offended “I do but not the ears” she moved her hands away from her ears “but Royalty, they are beautiful, just like you. Out there you don’t need to prove anything to anyone, you are the most beautiful little girl. And you are my daughter” Royalty grinned at me “are you going to sleep too? How come I don’t have a room here; I think I remember I did?” walking behind Royalty out of the bathroom “you did baby but then daddy has a lot of clothes so I needed to put them somewhere” I lied, the rooms are empty and I was in a bad way, I took it out on the rooms because what is the point, I don’t have my kids here so why have their rooms here. I trashed the room and got rid of the stuff “oh but dad, can we make a room here together? We can paint!” she is such a cheerful girl, she is the better half of me “we can, I will tidy and make a princess room for you, come on” pointing at the spare room “am I not sleeping in your bed?” I paused holding the door handle, I barely sleep in my bed and she wants to sleep in it “baby-” I sighed out heavily, I have no excuse I just don’t like to use my room “we can stay here it’s ok” she ran ahead of me inside the spare room.

Getting on my knees at the side of the bed “ugly” I chuckled, leaning against the bed “if I am ugly then you are too! My friends say I look like you but then that means I am boy? And boys stink” Royalty is something else “you happy that people say you look like me? You better be” side eyeing her “I do, we are twins. Just I am pretty, and I have long hair” nodding my head smiling “that is a good thing, you are pretty. You are the most beautiful girl baby. Trust me” Royalty laughed out “so tomorrow can we have breakfast before school? Together?” nodding my head “of course, I will wake you and then we go ok?” Royalty patted my head “you’re the best! And then we can do my bedroom? I am not sleepy dad; can we go and play games downstairs?” I can tell she isn’t “your mom text me saying this is your bedtime. I can’t” Royalty rolled her eyes “she won’t know, please?” Royalty whispered like her mom is here “you got my heart, fine. But no playing outside, we go downstairs and play on the machines yeah?” Royalty jumped out of the bed “wait, carry me down” getting up from the side of the bed “I will, come here” picking her up “you’re just like me, team no sleep” not going to lie, I am enjoying my time with Royalty.

I am pregnant, I am pregnant. I have a baby inside of me right at this moment, I am in shock and I am just a mess. I don’t know what to do, I don’t want this. I am cried out, I am scared. The whole situation is a mess, how can this be ok. I cannot have this baby, I have so much going on “you need to relax Robz, I can see the stress on your face” Mel said “you cancelled my meetings for tomorrow” I sniffled “me and Debbie are concerned now, what is happening?” Jen came over, I shook my head “I can only mention something if I want it, I can’t bring myself to say it. Please Jen, just give me time. Thank you for coming with me to Barbados anyways” Jen looked at me in sadness “I will fuck up anyone that upset you Rihanna? If you need it I am here, I am just scared for you” I am not promoting this, I am not telling anyone and Mel was there that is why she knows “she will be ok” Mel said on my behalf, I will not be ok and this has to go, I cannot deal with the backlash. He is not stable, neither am I sometimes but I throw myself into work “if I had one night with Mijo, I got pregnant. A mistake like yours” looking at Mel “hand on my heart Rihanna, I would keep it. Because we are at that age, I know it is different to you but still. It was a mistake, a beautiful mistake. I get that he is just, what can I say. Chris is a good guy, I am probably not helping but I want you to be one hundred percent on this, you got to be. It’s not something you can just say fuck it and get rid of, god really wants you to have his child. Girl, you was his first baby mother but nobody knows you got pregnant then, just let’s think this through” Mel is right, she is not helping but the thought of announcing to the world, that I am pregnant and the baby daddy is Chris Brown, yes I am his third baby mother like a fucking fool. I want a stable family, I grew up without it and now look, a fucking mess “my mind is gone” I said, I am stressed out of my mind.

Landing in Barbados is a sigh of relief, I love my country and I love coming home but to this news. How can I be so foolish, I honestly did not account for a baby, I have yearned for a baby yes but I rather it be a sperm donor where nobody will ever know. I am not ready; I rather just have no connection and get rid of it. My brother Rajad is picking us up in the car “hey baby” hugging Rajad “it’s good seeing you, I thought we was coming to see you?” holding my brother close “so did I, just get me home” moving back from the hug “mom is stressed, what you done now?” my brother makes me laugh “cheeky, what have I done now? Nigga, I did nothing. Anyways let’s go” walking towards the car, I feel bad not saying to Jen why, but I feel like I can’t tell her just yet. I may, or well more then likely get rid of it because it is too much, I look like I live by the world telling me what to do but how much shit will I get, how much shit I will get when they find out it is Chris Brown and he can’t even take care of his own, he is going court now for his second child. I am bringing a baby into an unstable home, who am I to do that. I want to protect my baby, not my child being told you are one of three kids and oh your dad doesn’t see you but he is also famous, but you can watch his music video if you like, what a mess.

I was hoping my mom would be alone but of course the family is here “auntie” I plastered the fakest smile on my face “Robyn, we didn’t know you was coming or Monica hiding that” hugging my auntie “it’s a surprise visit” my mom looked at my face, she is not smiling but it was more of a judgemental look because when I say to my mom I need you and I am crying, it’s usually something bad has happened “I did tell my mom” my auntie kissed my cheek as I moved back to hug my mom, I just want to cry in her arms but I can’t, I need to be strong and I need to suck it up. The hug was brief, I just couldn’t stand hugging her so long, not when I want to cry “Majesty, my baby come here” clapping my hands as I ran to her “auntie Robyn come back for you” picking her up “I missed you girl” she said as she rolled her eyes smiling “girl same, we need a catch up. You are too sassy for me now” pinching her cheek “it’s late arrival, we were just leaving anyways. She needs to sleep, we will see auntie Robyn tomorrow Majesty, we need to go and put you to bed” I cooed out “aww no, I will see you tomorrow” pressing a kiss to Majesty’ cheek.

Mel hugged me “good luck” she said in my ear, I need it because I am going to tell my mom something I wish was on better terms, it’s not on anything “come Robyn” my mom’ tone is serious, let me go before she shouts at me. I respect my mom so much, I don’t care what age I am she will get all of the respect from me, she is the best mother to me, always supportive of what I do but will tell me about myself, she is not scared to do that. Pushing the door closed as I slowly walked over to my mother, she is sat on the couch quiet, not saying a word and I really just want to cry because my heart is feeling so heavy, I can’t believe it. I know he wore a condom, that happened but I should have taken a morning after pill just in case, but I didn’t. Sitting down slowly “I could have come to you” my mom said, it was just instant. As soon as I sat down the emotion hit me “I messed up mom” putting my head down, my lips trembled as I silently cried. Looking up at my mom, tears streaming down my cheeks “I messed up, I really have” I mumbled, the sob just leaving my lips “what did you do? I am worried Robyn; I am scared to hear what you going to say to me. I want to come there and hug you, but I am sat here scared, what happened?” I know my mom is feeling it, the pain on her face because I am crying “I can do this, ok” I breathed out gathering myself.

I just need to say what happened from the start “Melissa had her birthday party, just something small at the apartment and she invited Chris” I paused looking at my mom’ face “brown!?” she added “yes mom, Chris” she nodded her head “ok then baby” I guess that is her way of telling me carry on “so I was drinking, I was being awkward towards him because at the end of the day. It’s just him, he is the first love, after a while I went up to him. And it was ok, we spoke and laughed. Just like the old times, and it really made me happy how we were. Like everything around, us didn’t matter, that is us. When we are together nothing else really matters, and I admit mom, I wanted it. We had sex that night, it was drunk sex and we used protection. That morning I told him to go, I don’t want to be involved in his mess. The alcohol wasn’t there influencing me, so he left, and we haven’t spoken since, I am in London and things are fine. There is nothing to it, so I finished my meeting for Clara event, and we were going back to the apartment in London. I felt faint and I fainted” my mom gasped with her hands over her mouth, her eyes ever so wide staring at me “Robyn” she breathed out moving her hands away from over her mouth, let me get back to what I was saying “you are pregnant” my mom blurted it out, staring at my mom all wide eyed “mommy we were protected, this was not the intention I don’t want it. I can’t have it, I am scared. Now I am pregnant, I don’t want it and I don’t know what to do” I spewed out fighting back my tears, my mom made her way over to me “I don’t want it mom” my mom hugged me.

I am so lost right now, all cried out. My mom didn’t speak a word, she let me cry in her arms. Wiping my nose for the fifth time because I keep starting back off “this is bad news; I would never do this about a baby. I would be happy to tell you, this can’t happen because it’s too much” shaking my head “I don’t hate him mom, it’s never that. He just hasn’t changed his ways like everyone should, he has two kids and he is not good. And then I have to contend with the hate that comes with it. when we dated again I got hate comments constantly, I had to be like them and say shit back. I don’t want my child getting that animosity because of it, I do want a baby but with love and I rather not know the dad if I can’t find a real man which I can’t. I am scared for my baby because I can’t protect it out there. People are full of hate no matter what and I don’t think I can protect my child no matter how hard I try, it was a mistake and I can’t have it” now I feel sick, I am not about to be sick “ok” my mom said, that was it. My mom moved back from me, she is gathering her thoughts actually “Robyn, you came to me telling me that once you have released what you got now, you were going to go and get a sperm donor, and that hurt me. It hurt me because that showed me that you didn’t find a man worthy enough to love you, and I rather you be happy, so I accept it. You happy and I am happy too. You could go to a sperm donor and that man could cause you problems, your child could get told they have no father. What I am trying to say, no matter how much you want to protect and love your child there is always ways of hurting it. what kills me and keeps me up at night is that I know how much you want better, better then Ronald because he was not good, he tried but he still causes you heartache. I know how much love you have in your heart, how much you can love, and you are scared of what will be said, what stories will be put out. I don’t agree with you getting rid of the baby, you could be baby mother six, but this will be the baby that matters. I am upset, upset to see you are hurting, but you are more hurting at what is around you, not at him” my mom put her head down, there is a lot of unsaid words that I feel she wants to say but isn’t.

“I don’t know what Chris does, or what baby he is on now. Rorrey mentioned he was at the party, he said Robyn and Chris were talking, he said they disappeared. You two together are like a flame to each other, you are right. Nobody else matters when it comes to you both, just like the old times. One thing I know, I know that baby is loved already. I can’t force you to do anything Robyn, this is your life, but I am going to say this to you. You keep that baby, you give him that choice and if he doesn’t care then he stays quiet and let it you be a single parent, but why is it I see he won’t let it happe. I believe you can do it, just like you were ready to be a single mother. You can do it; you are putting Chris in this and that makes you weak. Take Chris out, it’s just a sperm donor baby then what? Are you weak now? Are you crying now?” shaking my head “I have had many dealings with Chris, but I know he holds a big hold over my daughter with her heart. I think you are making a decision based off him and that is no way to give god’ gift back, I am joyful Robyn not upset with you or what happened. I say so what, you need to be that way” I wanted my mom to be on my side and say go and get rid of it but she has totally put a stop to that, she has questioned my own thoughts.

[sawienmoon]

Once upon a time... (Fairytale!AU-  Kylo Ren x Reader)

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: When was the last time someone told you a bedtime story?

Words: 2964 

Warning: none

A/N: English is not my first language so it’s  possible that there would be some mistakes. If you notice something, please tell me so I can correct my errors. I would like this to be as enjoyable as possible, so suggestion are appreciated. Thank you! The plot is probably strange but I just wanted to write something funny, or at least I hope it to be

Her eyes lit up every time he walked into the room, furthermore his presence didn’t leave anybody indifferent and of course you are among those people.

That night he told that he would have been there for her and nobody would have bothered them.

She was sitting cross-legged waiting forward for him to come back, meanwhile her gaze was caught by the star that were glittering outside the window.

She waited.

She waited her once upon a time.

Suddenly she heard the door open and she recognized the figure standing at the doorway. He had a happy look on his face, slowly he walked towards the window where earlier she had placed her gaze, then he turned his head and he looked at her, a smile appeared on their faces.

That night no one would have bothered them and perhaps that night they would have their once upon a time.

Wait, wait, wait; what are you thinking about? And don’t try to hide behind that screen because I know you are there.

Were you hoping for some romantic moments with your favourite character? Probably the 90% of you were waiting for them, otherwise you are part of that 10% who was looking for something else, or maybe I was the only one who was thinking about it.

You probably read the title and asked yourself if the author was going crazy or you could have just shouted everything down without reading this part.

But I don’t want to bore you with this, so the only thing I ask is: when was the last time you heard a bedtime story?

(Warning! This chapter may contain nonsense and a small amount of spoilers if you have never, and I mean never, seen Star Wars, in this case consult the movies, if the spoiler persists it is recommended to consult Wikipedia.)

Luke Skywalker could have expected everything from life, but taking care of his five-year old nephew. He was old, retired and live in the suburbs of the city, his only desire was to spend his time doing whatever he felt comfortable doing.

He was watering his garden, thinking how the strong winter had ruined hit when he heard an engine in the backrground.

“Strange.” he tought, not many people when down that road in the middle of the afternoon.

He lifted his head observing the black car that was passing throug the street and he frown when the shiny grey car stopped exactly in front of his house.

A man quickly got out of the driver’s seat and with a swift movement opened the back door of the vehicle, two figures hand in hand stepped out of the car.

The old man recognised them immediately, he turned off the garden hose and moved to open the gate to let them in.

“Uncle Luke!”The mouth of a little girl turned into a smile as she saw his favourite uncle, she set her hand free and started running towards him.

Slowly Luke crouched down and opens his arms, ready for the hug she would have given him.

He was so happy to see her, a month had passed since their last meet.

“I missed you, uncle.”The girl said while hugging him tigh

“I missed you too, little lady.”He replied gently stroking her head.

“Good afternoon, Luke.”A woman joined the two at the entrance of the gate.

“Leia, what are you doing here? Something happened?”

“Let's say that there are some little... complications. But there's nothing to worry about. I came here to ask you a favour.-

“A favour?”He frowned listening to his sister's words.

“Yeah, can you look after Hanna for tonight? I'll come back tomorrow morning to pick her up.”

That’s how his sister charged Luke with looking after her nephew until the next day, pity that he had no idea hot to behave with children. Sure, he loved his nephew and he used to teach at college but taking care of a five-years-old can be quite different.

Hanna and Luke spent the afternoon taking care of his garden, watering the plants and the flowers, moving some pots froma a place to another and observing the birds that flew here and there.

“Okay little bean, I think it's time to get inside and make something for dinner.”The uncle get up from the chair he was sat on, while the gaze of his nephew was still fixed on a couple of sparrow on a branch.

“Hanna?”He called her again sweetly, asking himself if she didn't heard the first time.

Hanna nodded and got up from the little chair that uncle Luke has crafted for her last year, she loved that gift made only for her.

“Do you think they will be okay?” Hanna asked with a concerned look on her pretty face.

“Who?”

“The sparrows, they were so cute. I don't want anything to happen to them.”

“Don't worry, they will be fine. If you want, next time you come here you can help me make a little house just for them.-

She clap her hands as a sign of excitement -Yes! That's a beautiful idea, uncle. You are the best!” Then she took his hands and starts leading him towards the door of the house “I'm hungry! Let's go!”

Once inside Hanna headed straight to the living room, she turn on the big tv and sat on the soft carpet, watching one of her favourite cartoons, meanwhile Luke was busy coooking some pasta.

After dinner he sent Hanna to bed, the house had a spare room in case of emergency like this, saying that he would have come to say goodnight after having washed the dishes.

So the girl prepared herself for bed and she sat on it happy, she waited the moment when he would have come back to his room to stay with her. She couldn't have gone to bed without that special thing that her mother or her father did every night and today she wasn't even tired.

It would have been impossible for her going straight to sleep.

Finally her once upon a time came and Luke sat on the edge of the bed near her nephew.

“It’s bedtime, little bean.”he said tactfully.

“But I’m not tired uncle, look!”

The little girl stood up and began to bounce on the bed, man could not help but smile, who could have resisted to such tenderness? But the Skywalker had a duty to perform.

“Stop it, don’t jump on the bed, you are going to hurt yourself.” Luke tried to catch her, but with a bounce she moved away.

He had just been fooled by a five year-old.

“And now I’m going to jump up to the ceiling, look.”

Luke realized the danger in time and this once he managed to get her.

“Not a chance, little bean, for as long I am here with you, you won’t jump anywhere. I remember you that you are under my surveillance.”

“And can I jump on the bed when you leave the room?” she asked innocently.

“No.” he replied whit a stern voice.

“But if I don’t jump, I can’t fall asleep.” she whined .

“And since when do you jump on the bed before sleeping?”

“Always uncle.”

“You are not going to jump here, case closed.”

“Then… can you tell me a story?” she asked looking at her uncle with puppy eyes.

“I don’t know how to tell stories.”

He was not a storyteller, he used to teach facts, science, he didn’t tell babies stories.

“I can teach you. First thing, I go under the blankets. Like this,” Hanna crawled towards the pillow, moved the blankets and the slipped under them, laying her head on the soft cushion.

“Second, you sit on the edge of the bed and begin to tell. See uncle? You are already sitting, you learn fast.”

“Apparently.” he whispered.

“By the way, uncle… At home I don’t jump on the bed to fall asleep and not even up to the ceiling, usually mum or dad tell me a fairy tale.”

“I see, you thought to bounce so that I stopped you and told a story.” he deduced tossing his head amused.

“More or less. Now we can start.” Hanna sang happily.

“Is your dad good with bedtime stories?” He was really curios,he didn't thought Hanna's dad was the type to tell bedtime stories.

“Yes, and he's amazing at it. Now start, uncle!”

“This story takes place in a distant time…”

“No, uncle. Once upon a time.”

“What?”

“Mum’s fairy tales always begin with once upon a time.”

“Once upon a time… that’s a good question, who was there once upon a time?”

“A boy and…”

“A princess.”

“A prince, no princess.”

“At your command, young lady.”

Once upon a time in a land far far-away that no one seems to remember there was the kingdom of Naboo. Everyone lived happily in that reign, there were no monster nor wars and peace ruled for a very long time, too much time…

All of its inhabitants were kind, friendly and loved each other, well, not everyone.

There was a poor guy named…

At that moment the ring of a phone could be heard in the distance.

“Uncle, someone is calling you!” Hanna said pointing a finger at the door. Luke puffed and got up from the bed. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a minute, little bean.”

The little girl nodded and Luke exited the room. She was upset that someone had interrupted her story. She waited for a little more than a minute but that time to her seemed like an eternity.

Going against the order of his uncle she get up from the bed and went to find him. She wandered down the hallways, step after step trying not to make any noise, she went down the stairs and saw her uncle sitted on a sofa with the phone in one of his hands.

“I told you to stay in your room, didn’t I?”

The little lady flinched surprised by his remark, but not bothered “Who is it?” She asked “Yeah, sorry Poe, I have to go now, it’s fairy tales time. Call me if you have any news Goodnight! ”.

“Goonight Poe.” Hanna shouted hoping that the man would hear her voice on the other side of the device.

Luke fixed his gaze on Hanna “Okay, now we can go little bean, so I can tell you your fairytale and we can go to sleep”

They didn’t even have the time to go back to the bedroom when the phone rang for a second time. Luke lt out s frustrated groan, he just wanted to end that night and go to sleep.

“Hello?” he said picking up the phone. He recognised the voice of the other man in an instant.

“Who is it?” Hanna asked curious while climbing on the couch trying to listen to the conversation.

“Yes Finn, don’t worry, Poe had already called me, I’ll tell her tomorrow morning.”

Hearing the name Finn the eyes of the little girl lit up “Can I say hello to him?” Luke made the mistake to look at his nephew and at the puppy eyes she was making. Resigned he handed her the device.

“Hi uncle Finn! How are you?”

“You know he’s not really your uncle, right?” Luke laughed but at the same time he felt also a sense of jealousy, Hanna ignored his voice and continued speaking with the other guy.

“Now I have to go to bed, uncle Luke is going to tell me a story, Bye!” she put the phone down and gave it to Skywalker “Ok, now we can go uncle.”

While they were going upstairs the girl asked something unexpected. “What do you have to do tomorrow?” The old man was caught off guard, he didn’t think she would have remember something like this. “I just have to talk to Leia, don’t worry.” He lied.

“Why don’t we take it from where we left off, Hanna?” he asked trying to change the topic while he opened the door to her room.

“Sure, but I have an amazing idea. We have to use real people, this way is funnier.”Quickly the little lady went back to the bedroom under the blankets and they continue their tales.

“I was saying…-

Once upon a time there was a huge and powerful kingdom named Naboo, it was so vast that it stretched high and low, giving the impression that that territory had no borders.

“Ok, ok, let’s go on, we were speaking about a boy, please use Finn, uncle!.”

Naboo had a lot of inhabitants who lived in joy and serenity, but there was a single exception and his name was Cinderfinn.

“I don’t like this name, uncle.”

“Then you can find a better one.”

Cinderfinn was a beautiful young boy, he was also stubborn, sometimes short-tempered but also loyal and honest.

He lived in country house, the spooky manor as he called it, that place was grim, so grim that the Addams family’s mansion was no match for Cinderfinn’s home.

“Who are the Addams?”

“An old tv-show, you are too young to know that.”

The boy would have been satisfied with that gruesome place if it weren’t for them..

Them, those harpies, the cruelest, the worst creature the reign of Naboo had ever seen: his great-uncle and his sons, who Cinderfinn considered as his step-brothers.

Finn, or Cinderfinn for evil step-brothers and old uncles, was an orphan.

His family left him in a orphanage when he was only a newborn, those were horrible times for everyone, not only for the baby, a civil war ignited all the kingdom, many people died and were hurt but at the end peace was conquered.

Some months after the end of the war Finn was adopted by a woman, a beautifuld, kind and wealthy lady… his future step-mother.

She gave him all the love that he deserved but unfortunately never received, he used to spend a lot of time with her doing different activities, reading, cooking, sewing, playing… and he admired her under every aspect. She treated everyone kindly, making no exception, the servants, the cooks, the flowers, the aimals and even the bugs.

She told him a story every night and at the end she kissed his forehead wishing him sweet dreams while he already was in the arms of Morpheus. Oh, how he missed those times.

But all good things come to an end and sometimes this happens sooner than later. Finn was sixteen year old when his mother feel ill and the freezing winter of that year didn’t help. Before the beginning of the spring she passed away in the arms of his son, who was crying out all of his tears. It was at the funeral of his mother where he met Count Dooku, his mother’s brother and the man who would have took care of him.

Little Finn was entrusted to her mother’s brother with two sons who moved to Finn’s mansion.

Day after day since their arrival the situation worsened, the money was running short and  they had to fire the servitude, this way Finn lost also his friends and all the chores of the house fell on his shoulders.

The count was a strict man, harsh and inflexible, respectful of the discipline, but the main thing was that he was terrifyng in everything: his walk, his way of talking and how he gave orders. He was part of the army and he took part to the war, he was awarded with medals for his strenght, courage and determination, but the truth was that he was rotten to the core, almost cruel. The war changed him forever

His two sons partially reflected his personality, the eldest named Sheev and the younger brother Evander, better known as Palpatine and Sknoke.

Every time the three of them tormented the poor Cinderfinn, giving him a mountain of chores to do and this once made no exception.

Cindefinn was passing by the hallway and in his hands he kept an empty laundy basket, he had already washed, pressed, folded and delivered their clothes toi his terrible step-brothes.

“Cinderfinn!” Snoke yelled from his room, then he appeared on the doorstep.

“How often have I told you that my khalat robes need to be ironed following the folds?”

The boy sighed and with a big amount of patience he went to his brother’s room to recollect the objects of his complaints to iron them again.

“Do you know where you can put your stupid glittering robes? They don’t even suit you, you can use them to gag you and shut your monumental ego.” Finn whispered while he went back to the hallway with a full basket.

“Cinderfinn!” that time the voice came from a room at the end of the corridor.

“Yes, Sheev?” Finn asked walking towards that room.

“These are my boots, polish the till I can see my face on them.” With these harsh words he dropped the boots he was grabbing with his hand inside the laundry basket, getting dirty all Snoke's robes.

Finn, distraught, turned his back on the other guy and continue his walking towards a destination which seems unreachable.

“You’ll see how I’ll polish your horrid boots, I’ll use your empty head." The boy with brown eyes thought.

“Cinderfinn!” the scream came from the hall. In a hurry Finn came down the stairs and found himself facing his uncle.

“Yes?”

“I am going into town, get my horse ready!” the man commanded.

“Yessir.”

“And prepare dinner.”

"Cinderfinn here, Cinderfinn there, who do they think they are? I’m done living here, why do I always have to follow their stupid rules?”

But Finn didn’t know things were going to change soon.

[littlejeanniebean]

peter parker goes to marvel high (normal mcu au)

A/N: Peter’s first day of high school ft. Shuri, Mr. Stark, Mr. Loki, and co. ~1700 words teenaged angst then fluff. More Peter x Shuri in my masterlist :)

Heavily inspired by this post by @spellbounding-slytherin

I’m also a big fan of @tinymintywolf​‘s art :))

- J xx

Fact: Peter Parker was a nervous wreck. May, ever the optimist, had patted his cheeks, kicked him out of the car, and told him to have a good day. Peter had never had a good first day of school. He was smart but had a severe attention deficit, so even his teachers never liked him. His one best friend throughout junior high, Ned Leeds, had moved to New Jersey, so he would probably end up eating alone in some empty classroom just to be safe. And he’d met the principal at orientation last Friday. He had an eye patch and a perpetual frown, used to head up the corrections department for youth offenders. So yeah, high school was going to suck big time.

“Move it, dickwad,” one of the larger boys shoved past him at the door to his homeroom.

Peter strategically chose a seat in the ambiguous, unnoticeable middle. 

A short, bright-eyed girl marched up to him, “You’re in my seat.”

“Sorry! Sorry!” he tried to pick up his backpack but the strap was caught on the leg of his chair, so he just kind of ended up spilling himself over the floor. 

“Crap, I was just messing with you, kid,” she helped him up, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he just sort of stood there awkwardly, not meeting her eyes. 

“Dude, you gotta stop apologizing. I’m sorry, okay?” she tried to get him to look at her, “I’m Shuri. I have a messed up sense of humour that scares away any friends I might’ve ended up having. Is it cool if I sit next to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, “I’m Perker Pat - Parker Pete - Peter Parker.”

“Cool.”

“Dude, you are sad,” the boy who shoved him coming into the room twirled an expensive-looking pen, sparing him the most derisive of sideways glances.

Peter was saved from actually having to come up with a response when their teacher walked in two-minutes after the bell and put his feet up on his desk, “Okay, kiddies. My name is Mr. Stark, you may call me Mr. Stark. I am your homeroom teacher unless you’re in the wrong room. I also teach AP Math and Computer Science. If you have questions at this point, I honestly wonder how you got this far in life, but I’m obligated to ask.”

The room was silent. 

“Great, do whatever until the bell rings, I guess.”

The class emptied out. 

Peter hung back, “M-Mr. Stark?”

“Yes, Proton.”

“I-it’s Peter, actually.”

“I was talking about your t-shirt.”

“I - Oh, yeah,” he looked down at the “I’m positive” joke print, “um… I just wanted to let you know that I have ADHD, mostly the AD part a-and I don’t expect any special treatment or anything and I’ll work really hard, but I also wanted to join Mathletes and I wasn’t allowed in junior high because I’d always get sidetracked at the meets but I think I can do better now if you’ll give me the chance… butifnotthat’sokay.”

Mr. Stark appraised him, “First meeting is in this room at three.”

“Thank you, sir!” he smiled, but when his teacher didn’t smile back, he fixed his face and walked to his next period.

“I’m Mr. Banner, and there are three things you need to remember if you want to succeed in biochemistry. One: If you’re unsure but proceed without asking for clarification first, I will be angry. Two: If you show up to the lab without completing the prior work assigned, I will be angry. Three: If you do not share work between your lab partners equally, I will be angry. Don’t make me angry.”

“Wanna be lab partners?” Shuri asked.

“Sure,” Peter squeaked and cleared his throat. 

“You’re not going to break a test tube on me, are you?”

He shook his head quickly. 

“You’re a lot of work, Peter Parker, but it’s kind of adorable.”

“Um… thanks?”

“You’re welcome. Now hand me that pipette and fire up the spectrophotometer.”

The last period before lunch was P.E.

“I’m Coach Barton, that’s all you need to know. Let’s do a few warm up laps around the circuit.”

Peter ran hard and was close to fainting as he crossed the line in the middle of the pack.

“Woah, kid, you need to go to the nurse’s?” Coach singled him out.

He tried to say ‘no’ but no sound would come out, so he just shook his head, gasping. He could hear the other boys snickering beyond the pounding of his blood in his brain.

“I think you need to go to the nurse’s,” Coach beckoned to the boy who’d crossed the line first, “Flash, take him to the clinic, would ya?”

“Yes, sir,” the bully from his homeroom smirked at him.

As soon as they were out of the gym, he jostled and picked at the smaller boy only to exhibit the epitome of sympathy in front of Nurse Man-Ti. 

“Here, drink some electrolytes,” she told him and he finished the small bottle in under a minute. 

As soon as Flash was gone, Peter let himself just cry. He wished his aunt would just homeschool him, but it’s been hard since his uncle died and in the face of that, Peter felt bad for feeling bad about his little problems and that made him cry some more.

“Hey,” the nurse sat beside him quietly, “Peter, right?”

He nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“What for? Better out than in, that’s what I always say.”

Peter sniffed.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or make an appointment with Counsellor Barnes?” 

“No, no, I’m fine. I just needed, uh… electrolytes,” he leaves quickly after that.

Peter goes to his locker for his bag and clothes, red eyes trained on the floor so that hopefully nobody notices. He doesn’t notice Shuri arguing with Flash, gesturing forcefully back at his locker. Flash sees him put in his combination and open the door, a cheshire grin spreading across his face. 

“Peter!” Shuri tries to warn him, “Don’t -”

But it’s too late and he’s covered in silly string, a few old socks found decomposing in the gym lockers, and the contents of a bathroom trash can. 

“I’m gonna go change,” he whispers to no one in particular.

“I’ll save you a place at lunch?” Shuri called after him.

Peter stops in his tracks to shoot her a grateful smile, “Thank you.”

Mr. Thor Odinson was a very loud history teacher, but it worked well for keeping Peter’s attention throughout the class, so he was able to answer all the review questions. 

“Teacher’s pet,” Flash scoffed at the sound of the bell.

“Dumbass,” Shuri fake-coughed and pulled Peter to the auditorium.

“I’m Mr. Loki Odinson, you may call me Mr. Loki to distinguish between myself and my hard-of-hearing brother, Thor,” said their quieter drama teacher, “Thompson, if you kick Parker’s chair one more time, I will send you to Fury’s office with no note, no explanation. And he has a very specific way of dealing with those cases.”

Flash stopped and sat straighter. 

“Good, Parker, you seem suitably nervous. Come up here and help me demonstrate a quick improvisation exercise.”

Peter tripped on his way down the aisle to the stage, but kept going. 

“Now, you’re a superhero and I’m a supervillain. You’re trying to turn me over to the good side, but we can only converse alphabetically. So you must start with the letter ‘A’, I must start with the letter ‘B’ and so forth. Are you ready?”

“No.”

“Ah, ah, first rule of improv: the answer is always, ‘Yes, and…’ Let’s go, Parker. You’re brave. You’re bold. You’re a hero.”

“Alright, Mr. Villain, you have two choices,” Peter surprised himself at how his voice carried. It must be the way the auditorium was built, “perish, or join our fight.”

“Blech, I choose to perish,” Mr. Loki dropped to his knees, “C’mon Hero, end me if you have the guts at all.”

“Come on, you know you never wanted to watch the city burn to begin with. The hive possessed you, used you. Now, you have the chance to redeem yourself.”

“Don’t presume to know me because you can’t possibly. You don’t know what I’ve been through. What I’ve lost!”

“Everything,” Peter said quietly, “Everyone you ever cared for. I do know… because so have I. We’re not so different.”

“Fighting the hive is a losing proposition. You have nothing that could work against them!”

“Gas. Even a million eyes are no good in a fog.”

“Huh… I never thought of that. I’ll join your fight, Hero if you’ll let me,” Mr. Loki proffered his “bound” wrists.

“I knew there was some good left in you, Mr. Villain,” Peter “unlocked” the “restraints.”

Mr. Loki mimed holding a knife to Peter’s neck, “Just not that much, I’m afraid. Hive Mother! I’ve got him! I’ve got the hero! Now release my family from the void as you promised!”

Peter wracked his brain from the next letter. The plot twist didn’t help him think either. “... Krap with a ‘k’?” 

Mr. Loki broke character and laughed before clapping and shaking his student’s hand, “That was the most interesting improv demonstration I’ve had in awhile, Parker. You’re a natural. Now everyone pair off and try to top that performance if you can!”

English with Mr. Rogers was the last period of the day. He didn’t look up from his book until everyone was seated, silent, and had their eyes up front. It took a crazy long time and a good deal of organization and yelling on Shuri’s part. 

“Sorry, guys, I was reading a book about anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down!” he joked.

Peter was the only one who laughed.

After giving a bit of a lecture on respect for their instructors, valuing their education, and how much they were going to love English this year, he let them go early. 

“Okay, I’m calling you three Alvin, Simon, and Theodore from now on,” Mr. Stark addressed his small Mathlete gathering, “Our new mascot is a chipmunk, I don’t care that all our other teams are Rocket Raccoons.” 

“Which one of us is Alvin?” Shuri asked.

“Since you asked, you are. Fancy-Pen is Simon and Proton is Theodore. Now, we have a competition to prepare for in… ages from now, so… drill, I guess? I don’t know. Who wants to do Euclidean algorithms?” 

Three hands went up. 

“Nice,” he brought out his expensive Japanese chalk, a gift from his wife, the well-known Fortune 500 CEO, Pepper Potts.

[fanaticwritings]

His Secret - CHAPTER 1

Sam Winchester x Reader [AU]

A/N: This series was lowkey inspired by a book I read and also another favorite character of mine. (Bonus points to those who can guess which character I’m talking about XD) Thanks to @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba for being kind enough to brainstorm and lay the story line out with me. Couldn’t have done this without your help <3 The aesthetic was made by me, pictures courtesy of pinterest.  I am really really excited about this series and hope you guys like it too.

my masterlist

word count: 1.9k

warnings: implied smut and loads of backstory

S A M

Sam Winchester twisted the key and the car whirred to life. The steering wheel felt smooth under his hand, spinning at the lightest touch. The XXW Mary sped out of the parking lot and Sam pushed down on the accelerator. The car roared and lurched forward. In the matter of a few seconds it was breaking lightning speed. It screeched as Sam made turn after turn, testing the limits of the beautiful black vehicle.

The car was the newest product of his brother’s, Dean Winchester's company and equipped with technology from his own. Sam made another swift turn at the next corner, as the road widened out ahead of him. He was almost there. The sky grew darker as night settled in, the tall buildings almost camouflaging into the velvet of the obsidian sky. He pulled to a stop in front of the hall, heart thudding against his chest. In spite of having done this for four consecutive years, he hadn't gotten used to it. He stepped out onto the red carpet and was instantly greeted by shouts and blinding camera flashes. Sam stood there for a heartbeat, letting the cameras capture his dazzling smile and then handed the car keys to the valet. The paparazzi followed him, as he made his way up the stairs of the hall. "The car looks new, Mr. Winchester. New item the Winchester Mobile Ltd. bringing out this year?" "Yeah. It's equipped with some of the latest Winchester Tech and is easy on the eyes," he answered, flashing a brilliant smile. He could see the headlines tomorrow. Sam Winchester confirms launch of the XXW Mary. He continued to talk about the car for the next few minutes, letting the cameras and microphones record his words. It was all he had to do for publicity. Draw them in and hype it up. He made his way up the stairs, determined to get away from the swarm of paparazzi. "What's the next big thing for Winchester Corp?" "Who are you dating?" They quizzed him mercilessly but he didn't take the bait- Only smiled and winked at them. He was thankful when he reached the top and walked into the hall, leaving the wave of cameras behind him. He was immediately greeted by Dean, his brother and also the most important person in his life. "Hiya, Sammy," Dean said, embracing him. He smiled at him appreciatively and for a moment Sam was whisked back in time. Jo Harvelle, Dean’s girlfriend, stood beside him, smiling. Sam embraced her too. Guests continued to pour in behind him. Associates of the corps, big names in the city and a few family members. Media partners were present too and were walking around, talking to the guests. Every year, the Winchester brothers held a benefit in the memory of their loving mother on her birthday. The proceeds of the benefit would all be donated to “Wings“- a charitable foundation, which looked after orphaned/abandoned children and underprivileged mothers-to-be. Sam spotted Castiel Novak standing with Mr. Azel, one of the oldest associates of the corporation. Cas was one of the most senior members of the company and also happened to be Sam and Dean's best friend. His blue eyes instantly lit up at the sight of his tall friend. Sam greeted Mr. Azel too, extending a polite hand. Mr. Azel shook his hand firmly. He had a very unsettling smile but one that Sam was used to, having had to do business with him for the longest time. He excused himself politely and ran into yet another associate. He was getting desperate now. He was listening to the elderly associate intently but his hazel eyes darted around the hall, in search for someone else. There she was, leaning against an ivory pillar, drinking champagne from a delicate glass. His nerves calmed on their own accord. He made his way to her quickly and before she could even say anything, pulled her into a warm embrace. "Heya to you too, handsome," she said when he finally pulled away from her. Y/N. The love of his life. She looked resplendent in the silver gown that shimmered into gold when she moved. The delicate rings of diamond that looped through her ears, accentuated her features perfectly. Her hair was in an up do, a few loose curls making look even more enticing. It was mesmerising, but nothing compared to the beauty that she herself was. Y/N grounded him and understood him like no one else. It hadn't taken him long to fall for her. "Late to your own event, Mr. Winchester?," she teased, glancing at an imaginary watch on her hand. "Yup," he said, winking at her. "Finished with the meet and greet?" She asked again. He wanted to kiss her but it was too crowded for it to be possible. Besides, news reporters were around. "Sadly, no. Don't you see the crowd?" he replied, gesturing at the public. She made a face at that and he fell even more in love with her in that instant, if that was even possible. "You go finish with that and come back to me soon," she commanded. He would incline to her request at this very instant if he could. He nodded his head in acknowledgement before kissing her cheek lightly, unable to resist the urge and then walked away. He had to talk a lot throughout the evening, something he grew easily tired of. It was in his job description to do so, but he couldn't for the life of him, ever get used to it. Running such a giant company was no piece of cake. He loved his company, there was no doubt about it. He poured his heart and soul into the work he did and never questioned it. However, there were certain aspects to it that he couldn’t help but dislike. Winchester Corp was founded and owned by John Winchester, Sam and Dean's father, until the great tragedy that befell them. Everybody had heard the story one too many times. On the fateful night of November 2nd, 1985, the Winchester House caught on fire. Both Mary and John Winchester, did not make it. John had escorted Dean and Sam outside, who were six and two years old at the time, respectively. The fire had consumed half of the house by then and John had rushed in to rescue an unconscious Mary. 

He never made it back. 

The police had confirmed that it had been an accident. The power lines had short circuited somehow and that was it. Winchester Corp saw it's downfall after the tragedy, with nobody to man it. None of the associates owned enough share in the company to become the next owner. All the beneficiaries were passed down to Sam and Dean, according to the company policy, but they were not of age. Until either of the sons became of age, the organisation was ruled to be in charge of their uncle Bobby Singer. He couldn’t help the company much, having had to deal with his own issues at the time. Winchester Corp was almost on the verge of bankruptcy, having managed on the shoulders of a few faithful associates, until Sam and Dean who were just 19 and 15, took the wheel into their own hands. They then began to restore the company back to its full glory. Ten years later, Winchester Tech- lead by Sam and Winchester Automobile Pt. Ltd.- lead by Dean, united under the Winchester Corp brand, became two of the biggest companies in the world. The brothers seem to have moved on with their lives, to the world. But only their closest knew that their past still haunted them. The benefit came to an end after Sam declared the final funds they had managed to raised, with Dean clapping by his side cheerfully. The cheque was handed over to the representative from the charity and after a few drinks, the crowd parted. "Finally," Y/N said as she walked over to Sam, the gown shimmering at her every step. Sam was in awe. It was only them, Dean and Jo now.   Sam smiled down at her as she looped her arm through his and they walked outside, along with Dean and Jo. Sam and Dean talked alone for a while, immersed deep in the conversation while Y/N and Jo chatted with each other. Sam was still distracted by her, he had barely seen her all week and hadn’t been able to spend any time with her today either. Their timings rarely matched. She would be called for work randomly and he had a company to man. How they still managed to love each other, was something neither of them knew. Maybe, some things were just meant to be. Finally, Sam and Dean broke apart and made their way to their respective cars. "Come home with me?" Sam whispered to her when they were finally alone by the car, brushing his lips against her ear. She nodded a yes, clearly having missed him too. She wanted to say something, it shone in her eyes but she chose not to. Sam didn’t press her. The city blurred around them as they drove by. Y/N looked out the window the entire time, barely saying anything. Sam stole occasional glances at her and she looked beautiful then too. If he could, he'd stop the car right now and show her just how much he had missed her. "Look at the road, Winchester," she murmured, not sparing him a glance. Sam smiled as he pulled into the parking lot. The moment they were at the two storey house, Sam slammed himself against Y/n and sealed her lips with a kiss. Frantic hands found her waist and he pulled her close until not even a hair width of distance separated them. God, he had missed her so much. Later, they lay in bed, holding each other.

"You okay?" she asked him, pulling herself to him. Y/N knew all too well how being social took a toll on him. It was tiring, pretending to be someone he wasn't- all smiles and perfect posture. There was no way around it though and he tried his best to get used to it. It was slow and painful but he tried. There was also something else on his mind, however. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go to sleep, baby. You have to wake up early tomorrow," he said, curling her hair behind her ear. "I’m proud of you," she murmured, sighing deeply. Sam smiled at her and pecked her forehead. Her words had assured him, somehow. A moment later, she was fast asleep. Sam waited an hour, listening to her rhythmic breathing and soft snores. He smiled internally. How he had gotten so lucky, he'd never know. If two months ago someone would've told him that he was going to meet the love of his life, he would've laughed at them. He got up gingerly, shifting incredibly slowly so as to not wake her up. She mumbled something in her sleep as he placed her back on the bed. She shifted a little and then stilled again. Making sure that she was still asleep, Sam put on a t-shirt, a jacket and a pair of tracks. He pocketed his phone and a wad of cash that he carefully took out of his safe. He closed the door slowly, watching Y/N all the while. He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. He almost didn't want to leave her; it was a feeling he had to push away every time. He locked the door behind him with a soft click. Soon, he was out the door and past the gates of the large villa. The security guards didn’t stop him. They were used to this. He pulled his hoodie over his head in a way that shadowed his face completely and trudged off into the night. // Feedback is my elixir, people! Please please let me know what you think of this fic!! It’s what keeps me going. Leave a comment/ ask <33 //

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The dungeon was no brighter or cheerier when Glinda tromped down there early the next morning. She tried to put her bravest face forward, walking with a confident stride and a smile on her face. It felt a bit farcical to be so chipper in such a ghastly location, but she did her best not to think about that.

"Hello, hello!" she called out as she carried the shallow basin closer to the cell in which the lion slumbered. Ignoring the other prisoners stirring nearby, she kept her full attentions forward. "Bet you've had a pretty heavy nap, now, haven't you?"

A dull roar rattled out from the lion… who turned out to be a Lion. "Leave me alone, willya?"

"OH!" Glinda nearly dropped the bowl. "Y-you can speak! Goodness, why didn't you say anything before?"

"You didn't give anybody enough of a chance! Captured us, and carried us through the air — and Lions ain't meant to fly, you know! All that… air, and the ground below was so tiny…" His great head shook his shaggy mane as he rolled over onto his stomach, eyes baleful as he glanced at Glinda and then away. "And I knew you were gonna hurt Dorothy, and I had to do something!"

Pursing her lips, she finally did set the bowl down. "Now, now, don't kid a kidder; we both know you were coming here to melt Elphie, and that's not any better than what you thought we were going to do to you! Right? Isn't that so?" When he didn't answer, merely looking sad and forlorn, she sighed. "Can I put this bowl in there without you pouncing on my hands?"

"I suppose so." She was just able to slide it through the gap under the door, though she winced when it scraped against the stone floors loud enough to rattle her nerves. "Thank you."

"Isn't much, just milk from the cow we keep in one of the spare rooms; we weren't expecting to need to feed any Lions." Then she turned back toward the other cages. "As for the rest of you… well, I haven't any idea what a scarecrow or tin man eat, so we'll figure you out soon enough. Dorothy…"

The little girl was balled right up into the corner of her cell. Her head poked up when her name was said, but she made no other move to answer or approach the bars.

"Go easy on her," the scarecrow pleaded gently. "I might not be able to think, but I think I can recognise a pure heart when I see one."

As Glinda passed his cage, she squinted for a moment at his lumpy visage. "Don't I know you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Do you know?"

"No, I don't know. Calamity and woe!" Shaking off the vague feeling creeping around the back of her neck, she went on to the cell the girl was in. "Alright, listen. If you promise to be good, we can take you upstairs, get you washed and a hot meal. But it's… well, there are a few conditions."

When the girl's wide eyes caught sight of the manacles she produced from behind her back, her face turned white. "O-oh… oh, I really am in a pretty pickle…"

"You did try to kill my best friend," she reminded her in an easy tone, though her eyes narrowed very slightly as she spoke those words. The girl retreated behind her grimy arms. "Do you want to come out here or not?"

She did. It took a minute or two of gentle prodding, but she got her to agree to the terms. Glinda tossed the manacles through the bars to land near her feet and told her to close them around her own wrists behind her back, which she did. Then Glinda unlocked the door, strode in, and helped her to standing.

"Ohhhh," the scarecrow moaned anxiously as they headed toward the stairs.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her," Glinda promised with a polite smile. "And then maybe you and I can have a little chat afterward, hmm?"

"I'll hold you to that. Both of those, really." Again, she glared at him as if she could bring the memories back by pure force of will. Giving up on finding out for the time being, she prodded Dorothy up the stairs.

Neither spoke until they were on the landing for the next floor. Then Dorothy asked in a meek voice, "Are you really going to feed me? Or… or d-did you just not want my friends to be worried? Am I gonna be hanged?"

"Why are you so ready to die?" Glinda muttered to herself as they walked. However, the girl seemed to have excellent hearing, and didn't seem to realise the question was rhetorical.

"Because it's m-my own fault. All of this." When she got no reply, she pushed onward, "Didn't you say a feller of yours was under my house when it fell? He died. I…" Another sob. "Oh, he died, and it's m-my fault, and all the crows, and y-your friend with th- with the water…"

"Calm down," Glinda soothed her as they found their way into the kitchens. "Just… what do you mean by any of this? I thought you said the cyclone wasn't your fault."

As she was manoeuvred into a chair and gently pushed to sit, Dorothy collected her thoughts. "I… well, the twister came, and… and I wasn't paying it any mind, see, because all I could think about was far away things. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em are always after me b-because I can't keep my head out of the clouds, you know. And I w-wanted…" A hiccup as she tried to keep from being too emotional. Without success. "I wanted to see the rest of the world! To make it out of Kansas and really see it, maybe China, or France! Those fancy places you hear tell of!"

"So then, why don't you go to one of those? I've never heard of any of them, but they have to at least be as interesting as Oz." As she spoke, she began to collect the ingredients for a light breakfast, to cook and serve to their "guest". She wouldn't dare be accused of poor hospitality, even to a prisoner!

"B-but don't you see? It's my fault for wishing for such things when I h-had a perfectly nice life at home with my aunt and uncle! What a horrible, ungrateful girl I am!"

She began to sob afresh, and this time she couldn't even bury her face in her hands; her shoulders jerked as if she had tried, and when she failed the sobs only got louder. Sighing, Glinda gave up the food for a moment, instead striding over to clap her hand on the girl's shoulder. As she might have expected, she flinched away, so she had to redouble her grip.

"What kind of preposterosity is that, now? Nobody ever killed anybody just by wishing for something; it takes wishing and action. Do you have any power to summon a storm? Even a light drizzle?"

"W-well, I… n-not that I know of…"

"Then there you go. It was just that you were in an accident. We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you had wound up dead from the house falling — you're both victims!" Dorothy nodded. "As for the rest… I don't know anything about the kingdom of Kansas. Why don't you tell me a little about it while I cook?"

So she did. As Glinda put the tea kettle on and fried up some potatoes and sliced tamornas, mixing the later into some griddle cakes, she listened.

Dorothy Gale came from a very rural region of Kansas, which sounded a lot like Munchkinland or Quadling Country. It was not a kingdom, as she explained, but a "state", which led to some brief misunderstanding when Glinda asked, "State of what? Confusion?" But the girl went on to explain that it was a small region of a very large country. Their king, called a "president", was content to let each state rule itself, only owing them some taxes and allegiance to the country as a whole. That was an interesting political system, and she resolved to ask her about it in more detail another time.

As she had mentioned once before, Dorothy had been living the life of a simple farm girl, hanging around and helping with the chores. She was of marrying age, or nearly so, but her aunt and uncle — who seemed to have adopted her when her parents died, and Glinda quickly discovered that pushing into that subject made the already-anxious girl nearly catatonic so she refrained — seemed content to keep her around to aid them with work and provide further company. Apparently, she was only allowed to go to school with the other children, and otherwise discouraged from straying outside the farm; once her classes were complete, she might not even get to go to university. Privately, Glinda thought that was a bit selfish of them, but she tried not to say as much.

Having finished eating and moved on to their tea, Dorothy went on about her chores around the farm, the few people in town she knew. Glinda found herself a bit bored by the minor details, but also charmed by how sweet the girl was once she got to talking. More importantly, she seemed a lot less terrified of her surroundings when given freedom to babble.

"...and I wish the house had more food stocked up when I was thrown here," she wound up as she reached the bottom of her cup. "All we had was some bread and butter, a few eggs — and there wasn't time to cook them or anything, so I left them behind. Probably gone rotten by now."

"Oh, it's only food," Glinda tried to reassure her. "Just be grateful you survived! A falling house, and you came out without a scratch!"

Dorothy flashed a nervous smile. "W-well, I suspect that's because I was in bed asleep. You see, I was awful scared for a long time, but when nothing else happened… even a twister starts to be dull if you're in one for hours and hours."

"Suppose it would," she chuckled as she set her cup down. "Now, let's get you into a bath. Is there any special thing you Kansasians do when you bathe?"

"We use water and soap. In a washtub. Is… is that special?"

Once the plates were drying on the rack next to the sink, Glinda put the irons back on her wrists and took her "guest" down the hallway to a bathing chamber, where she began to heat up a large pot of water upon the stove in the corner. She asked Dorothy to undress, but the girl balked.

"What's the matter? You haven't got anything I have, I'm sure!" Then her expression turned more serious. "Unless people really are different in Kansas in more ways than I expected…"

"I… w-well, it isn't decent, is it?" she whispered fearfully. "Even Uncle Henry turns away when I'm dressing, and he's kin to me!"

Laughing despite her best efforts not to, Glinda came over to pat her on the shoulder. "But we're both women! Anyway, I'm sure Uncle Henry wouldn't have cared about his niece, either. Didn't he ever help you bathe when you were little?"

"When I was little, yes! Not when I'm a… almost a full-grown lady! And… and well…" Her eyes turned away, cheeks flaming hot as she tried to feign that she hadn't left a sentence dangling. But when Glinda only stood there, staring at her expectantly, she finally whispered, "Y-you Oz women aren't like American women."

"What's that supposed to mean? And what's an American?"

Ignoring the second question, Dorothy whispered, "The Tin Man told me. H-how you and the Wicked Witch of the West are."

"The who?!" Thinking about that for a moment, then she gasped, "Do you mean Elphie? Because she's been living here in the Vinkus?"

"I s-suppose, if that's the green one's name. It's what they call her in the Emerald City, didn't you know?" Glinda shook her head, so Dorothy ticked off on her fingers, "You're the Witch of the North, and the one with the shoes like m-mine is the Witch of the East."

"Ohhh. Wonder who would be the Witch of the South." The Witch of the North took a moment to ponder that as she filled the washtub partway with cold water; the boiling water from the stove would mix with it to make it a pleasant temperature. "Well, I don't see what difference there is between Ozian women and Americal women. You look like you have two eyes and ten fingers to me."

"Not that difference. That… that you…" But Dorothy couldn't continue. She looked both as shy as ever, but also as if she felt a bit ill.

"What did the Tin Man say? I'm very curious now, for reasons I'll explain once you tell me."

"That you're a queer folk. That y-you don't hold with the Good Book, and… and you and the Witch of the West… are together like a m-man and woman w-would be!" she managed to stammer in the end, turning away entirely and hunching her shoulders.

That brought Glinda up hard. She had been about to flippantly ask which book was the "good" one, but she found herself distracted by the notion Dorothy had heard from Boq. Was it that obvious? No, it couldn't be! The few times they had even come close to displaying such feelings toward each other were in very private locations, and nothing had come of them, anyway. The much more likely scenario, which made her blood boil as much as the bathing water, was that Nessa's unwilling target of affections had felt so spurned by her own rejection of his advances that he decided concocting a rumour like that was the easiest way to make himself feel less maligned by her disinterest. She wanted to walk straight downstairs and thump him soundly, but in the end, it didn't really hurt much to spread a rumour. Not that one, at any rate.

Especially when it might be true, a quiet voice in the back of her head whispered. But she ignored it for now.

"And what did the others say about that?" she asked idly, watching the water boil. Trying not to let on how much she cared about Dorothy's answer.

"Well, the Cowardly Lion didn't seem to care one way or the other," she admitted, voice still quavering. "Which w-was strange, since I thought animals didn't do those k-kinds of things! With the same sex, I mean. But he says he's s-seen it with Tigers, and Bears, a-and all sorts of Animals, s-so… so I guess to him, it's not as peculiar as it is to me."

"Oh my," Glinda tittered, bemused by the girl's views on the topic. "Lions and Tigers and Bears! And your straw-headed friend?"

"He mostly always says he doesn't know anything, and that's what he said about this, too." Their eyes met again, and Dorothy gulped. "W-well, I… I know it's not Christian to believe any rumour, so I'm sorry if it isn't true, and… and oh, you've been so nice to me, always, and maybe it seems ungrateful for me to repay you by saying so! But I'm just t-telling you what I heard!"

Nodding for a moment, she walked over toward Dorothy. The girl shrank back against the wall, but when she felt her hands trapped between herself and the cold stone, still manacled, she arched her back and turned her face up toward Glinda, breath coming in shallow gasps. She was definitely getting close to a full-blown panic - and it wasn't only the threat of physical violence.

Did she really think she was about to be assaulted in such an unseemly, scandalous manner?

"Listen," Glinda told her in as gentle a voice as she could manage. "Nobody's going to hurt you. We're still trying to decide what kind of punishment you deserve, but… gosh, I don't know how else to say it without sounding crass!" When she laid a hand on Dorothy's shoulder, the girl squeezed her eyes shut. "Whatever you might think of me, I'll never hurt you, okay? Or… well, do anything you don't want me to do. In any way."

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she cringed away from Ginda's nearness. "B-but you're a… what's that word? Deviant! You're a deviant, a-and I've heard about what they d-do from the preacher, th-that they'll take a girl a-and… I know y-you've been so nice to me, but I've n-never met a deviant before myself, and don't know w-what they will and won't do, I don't know, I'm s-so scared, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

At that, Glinda couldn't help catching her up in a fierce hug, petting her hair and shushing her very gently, rocking back and forth. Once she had thrashed around for a few seconds and come to realise she wasn't being hurt, the girl began to cry in earnest, and slowly the thrashing tapered off as she began to sniffle and lean into the contact, glad for the comfort after so much coldness. Her own heart felt tight and sad, but she knew that was more empathy than anything else.

Also, she was having a much harder time maintaining her impartiality. How in Oz could a girl that fragile and weepy ever pose a threat to them? She had made a bad choice in putting her trust in the Wizard, but it also had been the only choice open to her at the time. No one else had a way to transport her back to the land of Kansas that she called home, so far as she knew. Between that and the popular opinion that she and Elphaba were the worst kind of villainous witches, it was easy to see how she had decided she was on a holy pilgrimage instead of an assassination mission.

Even more intensely, she felt fury that her companion had filled her head with so much nonsense as they journeyed together. Boq would have to be addressed as soon as was humanly possible.

When Dorothy was only sniffling and no longer sobbing, she pulled back and left a gentle kiss on her forehead, earning a quiet sigh as her eyes closed. Then she whispered, "Listen. I promise you're safe with me, but if you'd rather, I'll step out after I pour the hot water in, and you can bathe yourself. I'll come back with some clean clothes for you. But you absolutely have to promise me you won't run away."

"Gosh, I do, I do! Cross my heart and h-hope to die!"

"That's all well and good, as far as it goes," Glinda said, raising her index finger. "But it sounds a little vague, doesn't it? I need an actual promise. Maybe you didn't have much choice, but one way or the other, you did try to kill my-"

"I know," Dorothy groaned out, still as bleary-eyed as before. "And I'd apologise a million times if I thought it would put everything right as rain, but I know it won't! So… so I don't know how else to…"

Cupping her apple-cheek, she said in a firm but kind voice, "Earn our trust back. That's what you do. If you try to escape the first time we give you a chance, then that's it — back to the dungeon, since we clearly can't trust you!" Dorothy let out a little squeak, and Glinda felt bad that it came out sounding like a threat, so she shushed her and petted her face again. "But you won't do that. I don't think that's the kind of young lady you are at all. You're a promise-keeper. So promise me, okay?"

A glint of determination crept into her eyes, and she stood the tiniest bit straighter as she said, "I promise I won't run, a-and I'll clean behind my ears, and… and then I'll wait like a good girl for when you bring the clothes. Is… is that what you want?"

"That's all I need to hear, yes," Glinda laughed, patting her again as she backed toward the stove. The "clean behind my ears" bit had been unnecessary, but she assumed that was something her aunt demanded of her on a regular basis. "And I hope you don't mind, but unlocking your wrists will be the last thing I do before I leave. You understand."

"Yes, of course," Dorothy sighed glumly. "Earning trust."

So Glinda poured in the hot water, testing it to make sure it was just about right. Then she unshackled the prisoner and asked her to do the same; she dipped a finger in, hissed, and said it would probably be alright in a few minutes, once the heat begun to fade.

"Good. Now then…" She picked up her hand and patted it, and that time, Dorothy flinched a lot less. "I'm going to lock the door, just as a precaution. Not because I really think I need to — and I'm hoping soon enough, I won't have to at all."

"Y-yes, ma'am." As Glinda turned away, she said in a soft voice, "Is it alright if… your name is Glinda, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"May I call you 'Miss Glinda'?"

Her smile was faintly enchanted as she said back, "Yes, you may, Miss Dorothy."

It wasn't until she was off down the hall to confer with her fellow "witches" that Glinda realised something odd. Though she had turned aside Dorothy's accusations, said a few reasonable things in response to allay the girl's fears, she had never outright denied that she and Elphaba were illicit lovers. Out of everything, that may have been the most telling.

~ o ~

"So you trust her that much?"

Glinda shrugged as she watched Nessa and Elphaba struggle with the chickens. They had been a recent addition to the "farm" they were keeping against all reason inside the castle, and a large part of the reason they were considering moving all the animals to the courtyard. It would be more trouble to go down there and deal with them due to the extra distance, but animals really did belong out of doors rather than in.

"She's a sweet girl, really. Everything I've learned about her this morning tells me that she has no idea what to make of Oz, or the Wizard or any of it!"

"But she tried to kill me!" Elphaba protested as white feathers flapped in her face. "And Fiyero, and the Crows, even if they weren't by her own hand! Motives aside, do you really expect me to just let all of that go without a second thought?!"

"No, of course not! But maybe after a second and third and fourth thought, you can see that she didn't think she was hurting Elphaba Thropp, the saviour of the Animals, good chum to me, sister of Nessarose!"

With a nod, Nessa came up next to them, wiping sweat from her brow as she put a few more eggs into the basket Glinda was holding out. "It's true. She thinks of us as the Wicked Witches of the Insert Region Here."

"Or she did," Glinda added. "Now…"

"Now she might not." Elphaba grunted as she tossed one of the chickens over her shoulder, where it flapped frantically to slow its descent and succeeded. "Well… I suppose you have a point. The other prisoners, however, do not have the same excuse."

"By 'other prisoners', you mean Boq. And I quite agree; he knows us too well to justify the… oh, what he told her! It's none of his beeswax!"

"Yes," Nessa murmured, eyes narrowed at the two of them. "But I have to admit, I wondered a time or two myself whether or not you were… 'companions' in more than one sense."

"Nessa," Elphaba grunted in warning.

"What? You have to admit, it's not as platonic as it could appear! I can't imagine running off to live with anyone for two full years! How should I know what happened in all that time?"

"Nothing happened!" Glinda burst out, a little too shrilly. When Nessa's eyebrows went up, accompanied by a very low chuckle, she pursed her lips and tried not to think about how much warmer her face felt. "And besides, that isn't the point! The point is, your former boy toy and our former classmate sees no problem filling her head with nonsensisness and taking a swing for your neck with blade!"

At that, all her bemusement faded away, and she looked down. "You're right. I… shouldn't be teasing, it's not helping anything right now. Clearly, we are too late to win Boq over, and… and I have to…" She took a breath to steel her resolve. "He'll never be mine. And I need to let go of the idea that he ever was, really."

"Good girl. A man who tries to murder you is a man you can do without!"

"By that logic," Elphaba interjected as she struggled to close the pen they had fashioned, "we can do without Dorothy, too. They both attempted murder yesterday!"

Rolling her eyes, she snapped, "She threw water on you! Unless you're a sugar cube, I highly doubt that was going to do a twigging thing!"

"Not that she knew that. I'm talking about the intent, not the act itself. That girl marched right in here with what she thought was a weapon that could kill me in cold blood, and she used it."

"Well, as I was trying to say before, she knows you as evil personified. The Wizard had her totally convinced that it was the right thing to do, and she wanted to go home so badly that she was even more willing to believe him. Can't you see that if she knew who you were, she'd never-"

"No, I can't see that. Do you know why? Because we don't really know anything about her!" Throwing both arms up, she said, "She's not even from Oz! How can we know what the people of this Kansas think? How they feel or behave? She might be capable of lying right into your face and sounding as earnest as you and I right now!"

Glinda strode right up to her, hands on her hips. "Really, you could be right. I'm not saying you're wrong. But you didn't feel that poor girl sobbing onto your shoulder this morning! She doesn't seem that different from you and I, and I'm going to choose to believe her!"

Her two-year companion's green features didn't flinch at all. "And I'll choose not to. Not yet."

"Fine!" Turning away, she pursed her lips in thought, then gave a slight toss of her head. "Maybe that's the best thing. You can stay skeptical, so if she really is pulling the wool over my eyes, you'll catch it. Though I really, really believe she's not!"

"And I'm impartial," Nessa put in, as if feeling a bit left out. "So… I can help support one of you if I've noticed something, one way or the other."

"It's nice to know her attempt to kill me has shaken the both of you so deeply," Elphaba said with a scowl. But when they merely glared at her, she rolled her eyes and admitted, "With water, I know. You're right, I'm perfectly fine, but I still don't like anyone trying to shuffle me loose the mortal coil!"

"The Wizard and Morrible are the ones truly to blame, Elphie. Be mad at them, not at the poor girl they duped into doing their dirty work."

A green index finger jutted up at her. "Now that I fully agree with. Alright, go give her the clothes, we'll finish up here. And… she can eat lunch with us. Afterward, she goes back to the cell-"

"Elphie-"

"And we'll try speaking with the scarecrow," she pushed ahead forcefully. "You said you already traded a few words with the Lion, so I'd like to try him next. Boq… well, we'll figure out what to do with him eventually."

Nessa didn't say anything as Glinda gathered the eggs and the small bundle of fresh clothing and left, but neither did she look all that cheerful.

~ o ~

"And you mean it?" Dorothy asked through the door as she changed into the clean clothes. "They won't mind me eating with them? Y-you don't mind?"

"Not at all! Though… well, I'm sure you can understand Elphie is a bit less thrilled with you than myself and Nessie, but just mind your manners and… y'know, don't throw any more water at her…"

There was a mild thunk! from beyond the door, a muttered oath, and then she panted, "I w-won't, of course! Even if it did work, I'd never do it again, knowing that now you're my only hope to get home!"

"Right! Um… about that…" Twisting her fingers, she said, "It's not that we have any way to get you home that we know of, you know? I've been working on a floating bubble charm that gets me a few feet off the ground, and we could try that out on you, but it's still a little… funny…"

"Oh, that's alright!" she said in a cheery voice. "I meant that you'd try! The Wizard said he would, but he also said I had to hurt people to do it — people he said were evil, but aren't very evil at all. So… so I'm still not sure I'm any better off than I was before, but as my Aunt Em always says-"

"Lurline Above, here we go again," Glinda muttered under her breath. She seemed to parrot anything her caretakers said as if they were messages from divinity.

"-she says, 'You make do with what you have.' And what I have is you and the other witches, since I can't very well try and kill you while I'm a prisoner, and you've been so kind to me anyway, s-so the Wizard won't help me anymore. And if he wants me to hurt people who haven't done anything wrong, then he isn't a good Wizard at all, is he?"

"No, I suppose he isn't," Glinda chuckled pleasantly. "Elphie and I really used to think he was, you know. Simpler times."

The door was thrown open the next moment, and the first thing Glinda's eyes were drawn to was the twinkling golden shoes, of course. The rest of her outfit was one Glinda had worn herself; a ruffly blue dress with large white bows on the front and back, and puffed sleeves. The hem had just touched the ground on her, but on the other girl, it was a little higher. Such a garment wasn't exactly fashionable now, especially not at that length, but it would do for the time being and was quite nice compared to what she had on before.

"Splendid," Glinda said with a little clap of her hands. "You look lovely!"

At that, Dorothy's somewhat tired and confused look turned into a shy, pleased one as she dipped her head and curtsied — much more successfully than her last attempt. "Thank you, Miss Glinda! I… oh, it's far too nice for me, I don't own anything like this! Just the gingham dress I left at the Royal Palace."

"Well, you look lovely, all the same. And now, I am sorry, but…" She raised the manacles again. Dorothy's smile vanished, but she didn't protest or get any more upset than that. "Sorry."

"It's alright. I'd be doing the same thing if I were in your shoes." Once they had been snapped shut, she cleared her throat and asked, "Speaking of which… do you… know how I can get these off?"

"Get what off?" Glinda asked as they started off down the hall.

"The shoes. I've tried everything, and so did the Wizard and his secretary, but they won't budge for anything! She even tried to pierce them through with an odd, shiny little bodkin, but it broke in two!"

"We'll see what we can find. I expect it's- wait." Her eyebrows knitted as they walked. "Do you mean to tell me you bathed in your shoes?!"

Sighing, she glanced up at Glinda briefly before answering, "I kept my feet out of the tub. If I can't get the shoes off, then the water would just get trapped in there with my socks, and nobody wants soggy feet if they can help it!"

"Of course not! Gosh, that must have been a real trial! I'm sorry… but perhaps Elphie's seen a spell in her book that can get them off of you. After all, you can't wear the same pair of shoes forever, even if they are golden!"

In what seemed like no time at all, they were at the kitchen, and Glinda knocked three times. Then she barged in to see the two sisters busy with lunch. Dorothy didn't speak, her easier manner gone and replaced with the nervousness that they had come to expect from her. When Glinda cleared her throat, it was only Nessa who glanced up from the stove.

"Afternoon. You can have a seat, we're almost through here."

"Y-yes, ma'am," Dorothy whispered, curtsying again as best she could and walking stiffly to the table, perching on a chair as soundlessly as she could manage and sliding into it. Her damp brown pigtails even seemed to hang more limply, though Glinda knew that was probably her imagination playing tricks on her.

When Elphaba turned back, she didn't say anything to Dorothy. Merely looked to Glinda and said, "How will you take your tea?"

"A little lighter, I think; I've had a cup with our guest this morning already." She turned to look at said guest. "And you?"

"I-I'm fine," she breathed.

"You are not," Elphaba said shortly. "How do you like your eggs?"

"My… eggs? I haven't got any eggs." The withering look made her squeak, "S-sunny side up! Sir! M-ma'am!"

As Elphaba began to flip the eggs in the skillet, Nessa brought over a plate laden with buttered toast and a pot of jam. It seemed their lunch was to be a second breakfast. Dorothy bit her lip but said nothing as Glinda put a couple of pieces on each plate.

"Jam?" she asked Dorothy, hand just taking up the spoon in the jar.

"Me? Oh, goodness, if I'm allowed it, then yes, thank you."

In short order, they all had their plates full. Neither Glinda nor Dorothy dared ask Elphaba if she minded Dorothy regaining use of her hands. Perhaps they all knew that their prisoner was past the point of flinging substances at the witch, but with Elphaba already in a sour mood due to the attempt on her life, it seemed unwise to press the matter. Therefore, it fell to Glinda to spoon-feed her, being the one who had adopted her as a sort of surrogate little sister for the time being.

"Very well," Elphaba said once their plates were nearly empty. "I have to ask you a few questions, now that we're all full and… calmer than yesterday. I should hope you'll answer truthfully, because it is not in your best interests to lie anymore." The girl nodded, and Elphaba nodded in turn. "Good. Why have you come here to Kiamo Ko?"

Only the first question and Dorothy had to look away. "T-to… to vanquish the Wicked Witches, especially the Witch of the West, and to bring back proof to the Wizard."

"Alright. And why would you do this?"

"So that th-the Wizard might send me home, to Kansas. I haven't the foggiest clue where I am, so how can I get home without the help of someone so powerful?"

"Yes, of course." Folding her arms as she leaned back from the table, she cut such an impressive figure that Glinda had to suppress a shiver. When did her Elphie learn to be so bold? "I think you should know that the Wizard, despite all of his promises, is a humbug and a swindler."

"R-right, he may be. I reckoned as much when I met you all again, and… you do frighten me something awful, but you can't be anywhere near as foul as he had me believe! Not when I did what I did, and you didn't even tan my hide!"

"We frighten you?" Elphaba almost seemed to relish that concept.

"Oh, yes! Why, I haven't ever seen a green-skinned woman before! Brown-skinned, I've at least heard of, or seen while in the city, but… green?! It's a shock to me, ma'am, meaning no offense t-to… to who you are, or anything! I'm just not used to anybody being green when they haven't been wearing cheap jewellery!"

At this, Nessa tittered, but tried to turn it into a cough when Elphaba's eyes narrowed in her direction. Dorothy and Glinda exchanged a glance; that remark may have been true, but it wasn't going to help convince the Witch of the West that the little would-be assassin could be trusted.

"Well, just so that you don't think it's common in Oz, I'm the only artichoke around here so far as I know," Elphaba told her firmly. "I'm used to the remarks, they follow me everywhere."

"Oh? Well… I had guessed you were from the Emerald City," Dorothy said.

"Afraid not. Though it was nice to be in a place where I matched, truth be told." Tapping her fork against the side of her plate for a moment, she sighed and said, "You don't seem to have learned much about Oz since you landed here, but then again, I've never been flung into a foreign kingdom, so I guess I can concede that much. Did you see any green folk when you visited the Wizard?"

"No," she admitted uneasily. "Lots of folk dressed in green, but not green themselves. I just… well, I didn't see the��whole city, now did I? B-but of course, if you say you're the only woman like you, th-then I believe it."

Elphaba's grin was poisonous. "Really? You believed what the Wizard told you, too. Do you believe everything you hear?"

"Well… yes."

The admission surprised them. Nessa broke her relative silence to ask, "Really? Just like that?"

Nodding emphatically, Dorothy said, "Sure. See, girls aren't supposed to know things, anyway — that's what the farmhands tell me when I complain about my schoolwork being too hard. So I figure, if a woman older than me or a man tells me something, I may as well just believe them, and then change my mind about it later on if I'm told any different."

All three former attendees of Shiz University recoiled at this mindset. How could anyone let themselves grow up to think any man's opinions held absolute sway over their own? But the girl certainly seemed to be in earnest. Blissfully ignorant.

"Fine," Elphaba said at length, seemingly exhausted. "Well, I… think that's enough for one afternoon. We'll return you to your cell. Perhaps we'll send for you again tomorrow morning."

"Oh!" Dorothy gasped, surprised. "W-well, I would be glad of the company. I do like talking with the Lion and the Scarecrow, but Lion's so blue all the time, and the Scarecrow doesn't know much, so the chatter starts to go stale after a while."

"Very well. Glinda, if you'll esc-"

"Can I ask you something?" Then she seemed to realise she had interrupted and cast her eyes downward, whispering, "S-sorry."

"Go on."

"Well, two somethings." Elphaba's eye twitched. "First, c-can I have some scraps for Toto?"

"Who is Toto?" Then she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ah, your strange crossbreed pet. That's fine, I wouldn't dream of starving him. What does he eat?"

"Oh, any old thing. And… w-well, I don't want to press my luck, but Glinda s-said… something about h-helping with…" She got so flustered with all of them looking at her that she couldn't finish her request.

"The shoes!" Glinda yelped, remembering with a slap of her palm against her forehead. "Goodness, in all the excitement, I almost- yes, Dorothy can't seem to take off those golden galoshes of hers. Had to bathe with them on and everything!"

Elphaba's mouth turned down into a frown as she thought about that. "Really? That's rather odd. And obviously uncomfortable! I'm not sure the Grimmerie has a spell for unwanted footwear, but I'll see what I can do."

"Doesn't sound like much of a problem to me," Nessa muttered under her breath. Glinda had to fight to suppress a grin; though she probably partly meant because the magic shoes granted her mobility, any reaction could also have betrayed that Elphie told her something which was not supposed to be told. So she carefully kept her silence.

~ o ~

"Thank you for all your help today," Dorothy told Glinda as she led her down the steps into the dungeon once more. "I… I can tell Miss Elphaba is the only one who's really cross with me, and it makes sense, on account that I… oh, I never thought I'd be anything like a murderer!"

"You aren't a murderer," Glinda said patiently, patting her shoulder. "The more I think about it, the more it's almost like you were… a deputy Wizard. You know, being asked by the official governmental person to do a task! Almost like you're in the army, or the royal guard! How were you supposed to guess that Elphie's innocent?"

Dorothy squirmed as they reached the bottom. "Well… I still don't know about that. She screamed at me an awful lot when I first met her, and she still looks so…" Clearing her throat, she whispered more quietly, "I am sorry for saying these things, I know you're her friend. But she scares me out of my wits!"

She couldn't help the gentle laugh that rolled out of her as she gently nudged Dorothy back into her cell. "Looking at it from your direction, I can't say I blame you! But… oh, I wish you could get to know her the way I did. She's just so passionate about what she believes in, and her friends, and… oh, can't you see how your house falling on our Fiyero upset her? If one fell on little Toto, you'd be furious at anyone inside, whether or not they were in control of the landing!"

"No!" she gasped out, mouth slack and hanging open. "Not little Toto!" The moment the shackles were off, she scooped up the squirming puppy, holding him close. After a few seconds of his nervous licking at her face — and sniffing at the smells of food coming from her closed fist — she turned her face back to Glinda. "I… I know, and I can see your point clear as day. Do you think she'll ever forgive me? Maybe, once she knows I didn't mean to hurt him?"

"Maybe. He… meant an awful lot to both of us. But that's another story for another time." Locking the door, she turned to toss the cuffs to the scarecrow through the bars. "You're up next, straw man."

As she began to unlock the door and he snapped them around his wrists behind his back, he said, "You probably ought to know that I can slip out of these pretty easily. I'll wear them, if that's what you want, but what good will it do?"

"Oh. Well… thank you for the tip." Something about the way he spoke was bothering her quite deeply, but she shook it off as best she could while leading him out of the cell. "Don't forget, I can magic you into being a tub of goo if you cross me, and that goes for the rest of your travelling troupe, too!"

"Even Toto?" he asked with a theatrical gasp. Dorothy's gasp was markedly more genuine.

"Yes," she grumbled. "Though I suspect he's only an animal, so I don't think it'd be necessary; it's not like he's going to come after us for revenge. Now, move it, you!"

Once they were halfway up the stairs and away from earshot of the others, the bumbling sack of straw leaned in to whisper, "Thought I'd never get a moment alone with one of you!"

"Don't get any ideas, buster."

"No, no," he chuckled gently. "Glinda… it's been a long time since the Ozdust Ballroom, but it's still me."

And it was him. His voice was different now, sweeter, and too familiar to be denied. Much though the poor witch's widening eyes couldn't believe it, given the lumpy cloth edifice they were focused on, it was Fiyero.

To Be Continued...

[sapphicalexaandra]

The Funniest Joke

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender/The Legend of Korra

Characters: Bumi, Tenzin, Kya

Rating: T

Summary: When Tenzin declares him ready for his airbending tattoos, Bumi doesn't agree.

Notes: I've just realized i've never actually written for this series, and it's also been a while since I've been really into it, even if my love has never faded. I've been rewatching some parts of both shows lately, though, and i was re-hit by Feels. Specifically, Aang and Bumi feels. Listen, it is tragic. They both wished Bumi could've filled a specific hole in their lives, and the fact that he didn't caused them both so much pain...so i might've made myself sad writing this. If anyone is interested in this complicated family's dynamic, let me know what you think! If not, i had a blast writing this piece anyway.

The last gashes of air faded as Bumi’s feet softly hit the ground. And that was when the whooping and cheering started.

“You did it, Uncle Bumi!” came Jinora and Ikki’s excited voices.

“That was amazing!” Meelo’s followed suit.  

“Way to go, Boom!” Kya jumped in as well.

“No need, no need.” Bumi was making a point to bow in front of everyone who was clapping, his mock-formal expression glowing with barely-suppressed joyfulness. “You are too kind!”

“But they’re right, Bumi,” Tenzin said, a genuine smile gentling his lineaments. “You passed your test, rather…colorfully.”

Bumi’s smile didn’t fade, but he raised an eyebrow. “That was a test?”

Laughter echoed all around, and Tenzin had to resist the urge to smack his own forehead. “Yes, brother. What do you think all of this is? Opal and Kai have already passed too.” Bumi’s still-confused gaze followed Tenzin’s finger, which was pointing at the two airbenders. Their smiles were brighter than usual, as they stood proudly amidst the crowd. “You’ve proved to have mastered all thirty-six tiers of airbending, plus I’ll have to admit, Bumi, that your Dragonfly Blast Attack is quite…something.” The smile returned to Tenzin’s lips, a proud twinkle in his eyes. “You’re ready for your tattoos, big brother. It’d be an honor for me to–”

Before Tenzin could even finish his sentence, or the others could start their chorus of congratulations, Bumi burst out laughing.

It wasn’t a sound of relief, or satisfaction, or joy; it was pure unadulterated hilarity, as if Tenzin had just said the funniest joke. It was entirely out of place, everyone knew and felt that, so the silence that fell on Air Temple Island, except for that one unsettling sound, was heavy as a rock. “You can’t…be serious…” Bumi’s boisterous, hysteric voice echoed even louder as a result.

Tenzin’s face morphed in his irritation, but he still tried to keep cool and not match his brother’s volume. “Bumi…Bumi, you’re making a fool out of yourself,” he said between gritted teeth, “and I’m being very serious! You have reached Master level, and the ceremony will be in a few days.”

Something in Tenzin’s tone must’ve finally reached Bumi’s ears, because he stopped laughing as abruptly as he had started. And for the first time, he seemed to take in his surroundings: his entire family – well, except for his mother – in front of him; all the airbenders and Acolytes watching him; even the Avatar and her team who stood to the side, straining their necks to see what the commotion was about. They were clearly all there to witness the ultimate test of those who had been there from the start of the Air Nation new era.

Everyone was staring at him in particular; expectantly, eagerly waiting for his real, proper reaction to the news. Everyone except Kya. Her gaze, Bumi suddenly realized, seemed to match that something deep in his stomach that had suddenly started to twist and turn.

He purposefully averted her searching eyes.

“Well then,” Bumi started speaking, turning towards Opal and Kai with a smile that was all teeth. “Congratulations, you two! I’ll eagerly look forward to seeing your ceremony! Such an accomplishment, very well-done, kids!”

Tenzin cleared his throat. “Bumi, have you heard what I–”

“Oh, I heard you loud and clear, little brother. But I have to…politely…decline.”

Again, the silence was louder than any word. Eyes were popping all around, faces stunned, their only action staring from one brother to the other.

Tenzin’s mouth hung open. “E – excuse me? You…decline?”

Bumi plopped his hands on his sides, his expression nonchalant as he nodded. “Yes, you heard that right. C’mon, what’s an old fart like me got to do with being an airbending master? Look! Even Bumju is laughing.”

Bumju was floating not far behind Bumi’s shoulder, not even making his usual squeaking sounds, let alone laughter. Tenzin spared the spirit no more than a dumbfounded look, taking advantage of that time to collect himself. “You,” he had to speak slowly to not completely lash out, breathing in and out like his father had taught him, “have spent five years training…what do you think that was for? Was this…all a joke to you?!”

Korra had come closer to the scene, now standing next to Tenzin, smiling pacifyingly. “C’mon, Bumi, this is an incomparable milestone that you’ve reached! You should be happy and proud of your accompl–”

But her voice seemed to go unheard; Bumi was staring at his brother. “So what? Not everyone can be as uptight as you, and let’s be real for a moment,” Bumi pointed at his head with both hands, smirking wildly, “can you really see this glorious mane going away? I’ve cultivated it for a very long–”

“Bumi,” Kya seemed to have come out of a trance, and she was looking sadly at her brother, “please, don’t do this…”

It was already too late to stop the not-so-figurative smoke coming out of Tenzin’s ears. “Why, why can’t you ever be serious, not even once in your life! I am your Master, and I’m telling you that you’re ready for the highest honor in our, in our father’s culture, and you’re spitting on it like it’s the funniest joke?!”

“I didn’t ask you to bestow me this great honor, oh dear Master. I was perfectly content just the way that I was!”

“Then maybe you’re right and you’re not worthy of it at all!”

The brothers’ voices had gotten so loud, their anger so focused on each other than nothing else reached them, not even the Avatar’s or their sister’s attempts at calming them down. When the last words were said and done, that seemed futile anyway.

Bumi and Tenzin stared each other for another long moment. Then, Bumi shrugged. “Yes, I would think so,” he said. Not looking at anyone else, he turned around and walked away.

“Bumi!” Kya called out to him. When that didn’t do anything, she turned her head, “Tenzin…”

Tenzin didn’t even glance at her. In that moment, he wouldn’t admit, not even to himself, that he had regretted his last words the second after he had uttered them. Instead, with a sound of frustration and a gush of air that raised his robes, he walked out of the scene just as well. Nobody called after him, left too shocked to know what to do.

“I…” Korra looked at Kya. “What’s gotten into Bumi? Why would he…?”

Kya shook her head. Silently, she was the third one to walk away.

oooOooo

It wasn’t hard to find her brother. Hitting the town, Kya only had to try two of his usual bars before she stumbled on the right one, his laughter making her turn her head as soon as she entered.

Bumi sat at a table in a corner, listening, as well as most people in the room, to a Pro Bending match on the radio.

“Whooo! Get it, get it,” Bumi, back in his old military clothes, was inciting the game, a fist pumping in the air, while the other was curled around a bottle of beer.

Kya sat down next to him without saying a word, not making any move to gain his attention or stop his cheering. She simply waited. She knew he had noticed her.

It only took a few minutes before he stopped what he was doing, dropping both his fist and his bottle on the table, albeit not before chunking down a good portion of it. “What brings you here, sis?” he asked her jovially.

She was having none of it. “I thought you had stopped drinking.”

He rolled his eyes. “C’mon, it’s just a beer, don’t be such a spoil sport.”

And she was surely having none of that. “Look, I’m not here to change your mind or anything of the sort, I know how pointless that would be. I’m just asking you to talk to Tenzin.”

Bumi averted his eyes, frowning as he sighed. “What for? You’re right, I won’t change my mind, so what would even be the point of that?”

“At least tell him the truth,” Kya stressed.

Bumi frowned harder. “The truth about what? Jeez, I thought I was the one drunk here…”

“Bumi,” Kya’s annoyance couldn’t help but fade, replaced by a sad note in her voice, “the truth about why you don’t want your airbending tattoos.”

Bumi visibly tensed. “I – I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t try this with me, Bumi. Not me. You don’t even need to mention it, because I know. But I just wish…that you would talk about it with Tenzin, too. Look at us, at what happened all those years because we never had the courage to face the root of our problems... I’m tired of that. Our family is finally, finally, in a good place again, and I want it to stay that way. Please, Bumi, if not for you, at least do it for me.”

Bumi didn’t say anything; he simply kept staring fixedly at the glass of his bottle.

Kya placed her hands on his closed fists as she got up. “At least think about it,” were her parting words.

oooOooo

Bumi didn’t even try to mask his footsteps as he stepped onto the meditation pavilion. Sparing only a look at the straightened shoulders of his little brother, he walked up to the side, sitting himself on the floor with his back against the railing.

A few minutes passed without neither of them moving or breaking the silence; Bumi simply stared at the view of the sea, pretending to believe that his brother was still meditating.

“You know,” Bumi finally talked past the sandpaper feeling in his mouth, “I remember Dad coming here to meditate even when I was very little. I was always told to not disturb him, but of course I never listened. So I sprinted all the way here,” Bumi’s eyes were twinkling with far-off memories, staring not at what was in front of him, as his hands gesticulated wildly in the air, “climbing all over his shoulders and being a whole around pain in the ass. He tried to reprimand me at first, but he always ended up playing with me.” Bumi chuckled under his breath, warmth spreading from someplace inside of him. “He used to throw me in air – far away from where Mom could see us, or she would yell at us – and I laughed so hard, as he made me fly higher and higher every time…” The elated smile on Bumi’s face turned rueful. “Who knows, maybe because he hoped I’d end up doing it by myself.”

As Bumi paused for a moment, Tenzin had his eyes still closed. However, his entire body was tense, rigid on the spot, his fists almost trembling pressed against one another. That was all Bumi needed to know that he was listening.

“I used to come here too, from time to time,” Bumi went on. “I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but enough to know that it was too late for me to ever be an airbender. So I came here, and I mimicked Dad’s pose, and I prayed…I prayed to the spirits. “Please, make me an airbender, please, I’ll give up all my toys, just make me an airbender’.” Bumi’s chuckle was far louder this time, as he brought his eyes squarely on his brother, who had finally opened his. “Well, the spirits have granted me my wish! Sixty years too late.”

Tenzin opened his mouth, clearly about to say something, but Bumi didn’t let him.

“C’mon, Ten-Ten, you can’t deny the irony of that. And what am I supposed to do with it now? I’ve already done my time! I’ve traveled the world, I helped a few people here and there, I found my purpose exactly for who I was. So why would the spirits make me an airbender now, when I, who should’ve been born one, wasn’t?”

“Bumi…”

“No, Tenzin. Dad, and me, spent all those years desperately wishing for this very fact! You weren’t there. You never had to see that hollow look in Dad’s eyes, the sad disappointment he couldn’t help but feel whenever he saw me. So if I was supposed to be an airbender all along, that was when it was needed! I could’ve helped ease Dad’s pain! Instead, he had to wait ten more years. When you – when you were born, and the air immediately moved around you, Dad spent the whole day crying. Kya did, too. She asked me if that meant he now loved you more than us. No, I told her. It just means he’s not alone anymore.” Bumi passed his hand over his entire face, suddenly feeling very tired deep in his bones. “Yeah, Dad still loved us, and I loved him, so much…so it was never fair, not to him, not to me, not to us, that I wasn’t an airbender. You ever thought about the what ifs? About how things would’ve been different, if I had been one? Oh, I have, lately more than ever. I know…that I would’ve been exactly the same, but not quite. I would’ve still joined the UF, because that was my calling. I would’ve shown Dad all the new ways an airbender could be. I would’ve represented him and the Air Nomads everywhere I went. You would’ve still stayed at the temple, and we would’ve shared that responsibility, you know? To carry on. You wouldn’t have had all the pressure solely on your shoulders.”

Tenzin still didn’t seem able to speak, so Bumi didn’t see any point in lingering. He got up, placing a hand on Tenzin’s shoulder. “I am, and will always be, the non-bender son of Avatar Aang. I spent too many ears accepting that fact, to renounce it now. So I hope you can see that me, being an airbender, can only ever be…a joke. The funniest joke. And jokes don’t become masters.”

[whistledylan-blog]

The Little Things

5 times Derek notices things about Stiles he has never noticed before.

1. The tiny specs of colour in their eyes.  

For a moment, Derek was floating. He was weightless, mind adrift. And then suddenly, it was like he was dropped into a pool of cold water and he was being thrown into consciousness.

His eyes snapped open, breath leaving his lungs. He barely caught the fist swinging towards his face, the small, cold knuckles swarmed in his own collaused palm with a painful slap of skin against skin. He looked above him, eyes leaving the two hands, and found Stiles staring down at him. It was just as much of a shock waking up as it was seeing cold, stomach dropping fear glistening in Stiles' eyes. His face was illuminated green, shadowed from the prominent cheekbones and ridiculously long eyelashes. The lights around them were flickering on and off, making Derek's sense of his surroundings even more off.

He looked around, dazed and confused because what the actual fuck? He couldn't figure out what was going on. What happened and why was Stiles staring at him like he's dropped from the fucking sky?

Suddenly, it all came rushing back like a tidal wave.

"Where is she?" He shakily asked after he glanced out of the elevator he was laying in, looking at the dimmed and abandoned hospital ward.

"Jennifer?" Stiles croaked above him, voice raspy like he'd been crying. His eyes didn't look red, but Derek did find himself unable to take his eyes off them - doe and big. "Gone— with Scott's mum."

Derek felt his stomach twist uneasily, guilt swarming his gut. "She took her?"

"Yeah," Stiles nodded. "And if that's not enough of a kick to the balls, Scott left with Deucalion. Okay? So, we gotta get you out of here—" he could hear the teenagers breathing picking up, noting the anxious way he was sparing nervous glances down the end of the hall. His wrist was still in Derek's hand, shaking. "The police are coming right now, and we gotta get you the hell out-ta here—"

"Woah," Derek cut him off, sitting up and ignoring the scream from his muscles.  He felt so impossibly drained. "What about Cora?"

"She's fine," Stiles replied, quick and high. "She's with Peter and Isaac. Look, we gotta go, okay? Can you stand? Did she break anything or—"

"I'm fine," Derek answered shortly. He wasn't fine, but he wasn't broken or physically injured. Maybe mind-fucked and internally scarred by the fact that he was sleeping with a goddamn Darach who while she wasn't in his bed, was actually out killing people for sacrifices. He was more worried about Cora at the moment, but Jennifer was large play in his mind - especially now she has Stiles' dad and Scott's mum.

"Okay, good," Stiles nodded and he didn't waste another moment before he was grabbing Derek by the shoulders and pulling - non helpfully - Derek to his feet. He stumbled when he was vertical, blood rushing to his head like he'd been hanging upside down instead of laying on the floor. "Woah—" Stiles rushed to his close side, hands everywhere and eyes tracking him. "You okay, big guy?"

Not by a long shot, Derek wanted to say. "I'm fine," he gruffed instead. It was obvious Stiles didn't believe him, his brown eyes unconvinced and shining evident disbelief, but he didn't mention it. Instead, he nodded, breathing shakily. They were at eye level, eyes directly looking into one another and if it was under different circumstances, Derek would have taken the time to admire the fire behind the teens eyes, or the way lighter shades of brown sparkled along side the dark, glowing whiskey. But right now, the circumstances were shit, and they needed to get out.

"Let's go," Derek said, and neither of them wasted another moment before they turned and ran.

-

2. How someone looks when they think nobody can see them.

Everything was better now. Cora was cured and currently out of town. She'd left only two days after she was well enough to stand, calming telling Derek she couldn't stay because everything here reminded her of pain and misery. Derek couldn't disagree with her, or make her stay. But he also declined her offer to go with him, knowing he needed to stay with his pack and some Hale member had to stay here. But things were better. The sheriff, Melissa and Chris were rescued and safe. Scott, Allison and Stiles got their parents back. The sacrifices worked, or, at least that's what Derek was told.

He didn't believe they worked, didnt believe everything was alright. The sacrifices gave them the location of their parents, but it's physically and mentally scarred them for life. The darkness around their hearts, as Deaton explained, was perminant. It was a scar, ugly and unremovable. Derek had no idea what it felt like, but he imagined it was like a hole in your chest, a big black void of nothing, just gaping like a bloodless bullet wound. He assumed it felt like grief, consuming and a consistent ache or feeling.

Derek couldn't imagine what it actually felt like, pooling in his chest continuously.

The pack meeting came to a stuttering end about half an hour before the members began to leave. Lydia and Allison went first, claiming they needed shopping as Lydia was sure it was the only way to properly cheer Allison up. Derek could see the frustration in Allison's form, the aftermath of the sacrifice turning her paranoid, saying she can keep seeing the ghost of her dead aunt.

"Hey, Scott," Stiles said, catching the doe-eyed true alpha. They were standing in the middle of the loft, Scott having just began to make his way to the loft door. He turned around on Stiles' call and waited for him to continue. "Are you still free today? I was wondering if we could hang out, I need to tell you—"

"Sorry, buddy," Scott cut him off, and the drop in Stiles' hopeful expression told Derek the younger teen knew he was being ditched. "I was gonna hang out with Kira, do some history notes together," Scott looked at Kira over his shoulder, the small girl sending him a sweet wave when she noticed him looking. Scott, like a lovesick middle-schooler, waved back with doe eyes. He turned back to Stiles, talking in a low voice so no one could hear, stupidly forgetting he's surrounded by werewolves with enhanced hearing, "she's finally noticing me, Stiles. I know you wanted to hang out, and we will — I promise! But, I really like her, like, like her. I haven't felt like this about anyone since. . ." He trailed off and the small 'Allison' didn't go unheard.

Stiles shook his head, lips pulling up into a smile that was so painfully forced. "It's fine. Totally cool. You go, write notes and woo her with your puppy eyes. I can talk to you another time."

Scott grinned. "Thank you!" He clapped a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "You're the best, Stiles. I promise we'll hang out tomorrow, okay?"

Stiles nodded, muttering, "Okay. Sure."

But Scott was already turning away, going to Kira and it took all of Derek's willpower not to grab Scott by the collar and drag him to Stiles' feet and force him to apologise to his best friend that so obviously needs him.

The second Scott was out the door, it was like Stiles was physically punched. Derek watched his face morph into a mixture of pain, anxiety and hurt. He wrapped his arms around his middle, cuddling himself as if it would give him some source of comfort. Derek could tell his eyes were trained on the floor, despite standing behind him. The angle of his head was down and bowed, and Derek officially declared Scott the biggest oblivious idiot in the pack. How could he not see? How could he not see the obvious signs of his best friends suffering? Derek has watched Stiles turn up to meeting after meeting since the sacrifices, watching his skin get paler and tighter from exhaustion. The purple half moons under his eyes becoming horrifically prominant, standing out against the white of his complexion. His hair was hazardous, sprawled in every direction like it's been pulled with stress.

Stiles was suffering, and Derek could see him suffering in silence.

Derek didn't know if Stiles realised he was there, especially considering it was his loft, but Stiles seemed to be in his own head. He seemed unconscious that Derek was standing behind him, watching and observing the way he's curling in on himself like a wounded child. The way waves of misery and hurt are rolling off him and smacking Derek like a physically tsunami. Realisation dawned on him that Stiles wasn't okay, and that everything wasn't better now just because no one was in immediate danger.

Derek moved, the floor beneath his feet moaning and Stiles spun around so fast Derek was surprised he managed to stay standing. Stiles' eyes were wide, swimming with surprise and also a hint of embarrassment, which had Derek almost frowning because, why?

"Are you okay?"

Stiles nodded, and suddenly, it was like a masked was slipped on. His face became neutral, emotionless and all the pain shining through the exhausted whiskey eyes was covered like a shield. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Derek nodded back. He didn't have another chance to speak to Stiles, for the brunette teenager was grabbing his bag by the strap and darting out of the loft like a streak of light.

-

3. Real meanings behind spoken words.  

Derek didn't know how it had come to this. He didn't know what he did to deserve this, but through out his entire life, he's never been so terrified. Even when he watched his family burn, or spent years hiding away in New York, grieving with Laura, or when he came back to this god-forsaken town to find his older sister dead at the hands of his psychopathic uncle. He has never felt as truly scared as he is now.

He was standing in Deaton's veterinary. It was cold, the chill from outside seeping into the dark room. Scott was leaning against a metal table, hand on his recently healed stomach. There was a large blood patch on his t-shirt, the wet, sodden fabric ruined by the gaping hole in the middle. He looked close to tears, and that wasn't because he was stabbed and basically had death flash in front of his eyes. No, Derek knows he's close to tears because of the teenager laying on the table opposite him.

Stiles had been unconscious when Derek ran in from the rain. The teen then, however, had been laying on his side on the cold floor, Deaton standing above him with a needle in his hand like a mad scientist out of a horror movie.

At first, Derek had demanded answers. He wanted to know what the fuck was going on and how the hell Scott, the true alpha, had managed to get stabbed by his hyperactive human best friend. Except once Derek had lifted Stiles onto the table, his body disturbingly lax in his arms, Deaton had then explained that Stiles was not only Stiles, but actually possessed by a thousand year old Japanese spirit.

It had been quite a shock. Sure, Derek had his suspicions, but no one had confirmed it to him and to hear Deaton tell him, when Stiles was drugged to unconsciousness and Scott was recovering from a stab wound to the stomach, it made Derek want to throw up.

After ten minutes of eery silence, Derek asked the only question he was sure he could voice without vomiting. "What do we do?"

His voice broke the quiet like a sledgehammer on a sheet of glass; shattering it. Scott physically flinched when he did, and for the first time in a long time, Derek saw the vulnerability in the True Alpha.

"The wolf lichen should knock him out for a while, and when he comes around he should be in control of himself," Deaton answered.

Derek looked at him. "And what happens if Stiles isn't in control when he wakes up?"

"We'll deal with that if and when it happens. For now, we need to assume the wolf lichen will work and the fox will be effected."

"Is it going to hurt him?" Scott asked, his eyes still locked on Stiles' form. When no one answered, he looked up and directly at Deaton. "Is the wolf lichen going to hurt Stiles?"

"No," Deaton said. "It won't harm his human side, only the fox inside him."

"Then why is he still passed out?" Scott shouted, a growl itching into his tone.

Deaton seemed unfazed, as usual. "Because the wolf lichen will act as a sedative until the fox is weak enough for Stiles to take control again. He'll be fine, Scott." His last words sounded flimsy but it was the best they had.

"Okay, so assuming Stiles is in control, what should we do? The wolf lichen isn't permeant, and if the fox is as powerful as you said it was, then it isn't just going to sit back and let Stiles have his life back again," Derek said, and once the words left his mouth, he felt like he was going to be sick again.

He looked at Stiles, and instantly he regretted it. The teenager was still passed out, lax and limp on the table. His head was turned to the side, face in their direction. His skin was white, eyes bruised and purple. His lips were cracked, colourless like the rest of his complexion. His hair was stuck to his forehead in wet curls like seaweed washed up on a pale shore. It was scary, to see Stiles so still. In all the years Derek had known him, Stiles was a constant flurry of movement and colour but now, he was like a grey form of stationary misery.

"How can we help him?" Derek asked. "How do we stop whats inside him?"

Deaton shook his head. "I don't know enough," he said.

"Well learn something!" Derek snapped. "We need to help him."

"I know," Deaton said, and it almost sounded like a sigh.

"We need to get it out," Scott murmured. "We need to get that thing out of him."

Deaton nodded. "I'll see if I know any contacts who might be able to help. I recommend speaking to Chris, he might know more about this than me."

"I'll do it," Derek said, knowing Scott wasn't up for anything else tonight. "You should go home, Scott. Get some rest-"

Scott's head snapped up at the mention of his name. "W-What? No! I can't— you don't. . . I need to help—"

"Scott, you had a sword pushed through your stomach. You need to rest and heal—"

Scott pushed off the table. "I've healed! I—"

"Scott," Derek said, voice rumbling. If he was an alpha still, he knew he would have flashed his red eyes, but he didn't bother now. "Go home, we'll phone you if anything changes," he added, "I promise."

Scott looked like he was going to protest, but then he must have come to his senses and realised he needed to go home.

"Call Kira when you go," Deaton said. "Make sure she's okay."

Derek doesn't know who Kira is or what happened to her, and if he was honest with himself then he didn't want to know. The only thought that connected in his mind was if Stiles had hurt her? If the thing inside his head had hurt someone?

Derek cut out of his thoughts when Scott began to head towards the door, looking over his shoulder ever three seconds, eyes on his best friend as if walking out the door without him is like he's saying good bye. The door shut behind him with a deafening silence.

"Take me to Eichen,"

Derek spun on his heel as fast as light, ears ringing with the croaking voice.

Stiles was awake, eyes open and shining through the whiskey orbs was such raw fear that Derek could literally taste it on his tongue. He hadn't even realised Stiles was awake, and now he listened, he could hear the racing beats of his heart.

"What?" Derek asked, brain not fully processing Stiles' words.

"Take me to Eichen House. I can't be around you guys—"

"No way in hell are you going there," Derek said adamantly.

"Derek—"

"Stiles, Derek is right. I don't think—"

"I have to. I heard what you said about the wolf lichen, and I know it isn't going to hold forever. You can't just let me roam the streets. I might— it might hurt someone. Please, I need to do this."

Derek sighed. His chest was aching. "Stiles, Eichen isn't safe,"

"It doesn't matter. If I'm in there, so is the damn thing possessing me. Everyone will be safe, and it will give you guys more time to figure something out."

"We're going to kill it, Stiles," Derek said, voice more solid than it had been all night. He was confident that Stiles was going to get out of this alive, and no way in hell was Derek going to let the brave, stupid, idiotic spaz go down this way after everything he's been through. "You're going to be okay."

"You can't," Stiles whispered. His voice cracked, croaking when he spoke.

"Stiles, we can and we will," Derek snarled.

"How?" Stiles asked, and then Derek noticed the glistening in his eyes and the salty tang to the air. "How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?"

The words hit Derek so hard he had to take a physical step back. He didn't know exactly what Stiles was implying, but the words were cold and sharp.

Monster.

Was Stiles implying that Derek was a monster? Or that Stiles himself is a monster? The questions flew back and forth like a boomerang, spinning inside his head.

"Stiles," Derek began, but prominently cut himself off. What the fuck was he meant to say to that?

"Please," Stiles begged, sounding so small and hurt it physically wounded Derek like a punch to the chest.

Derek sighed. He looked to Deaton, who met his eyes with a familiar gaze. Derek looked back to Stiles, who was staring at him with a hopeful and desperate look that could have made the newly made beta crumble, even in alpha form.

"Call your father," Derek said. "You need his consent first."

-

4 . Emotions they are trying to hide.

When Derek next saw Stiles, it was a week after the Nogitsune was diminished and two friends were buried in the ground. The remaining pack were damaged, the entire pack and its balance fractured, possibly beyond repair.

Scott was heart broken, internally destroyed from having his first love die in his arms. Derek could relate, horribly, and he knew that kind of pain didn't just go away with a few good nights sleep and a lot of hugs. It was scarring, deep and un-healable.

Lydia was just as distraught, though her's was less visible. She had been the one to plan the meeting at Derek's loft, insisting they needed to get back to some sort of normalcy. She'd turned up the following day, Kira at her side, saying the pack meeting was happening and everyone was going to be there.

At first, Derek didn't believe her or the idea that everyone would come. Grieving was hard, and for most people, it was actually easier to do alone. Or at least, that's what people believed when they were grieving. It was like dark cloud hanging over you, and your constant worry was getting  everyone caught in your own storm. Derek knew what it was like to hide away in grief, he'd done it twice before and he was sure as hell not going to criticise the pack for doing it themselves. The only member of the pack Derek had actively seen was Isaac, and that was only because he'd moved back in with him. He didn't comment, the first night Isaac turned up at the lofts door with a duffel bag and red eyes, he only opened the door wider and offered his bed, knowing the beta needed it.

Scott and Isaac arrived together, looking hunched and sad. They barely said a hello to everyone before dropping down on the sofa.

Stiles was the last to arrive, and when he did walk through the door, Derek could have cried. Stiles was the definition of mentally broken. His physical appearance was haunting, from his translucent skin and exhausted eyes to his sluggish movements and sharp cheekbones. He walked with hunched shoulders, like he was carrying the weight of the world on the producing bones. Lydia approached him as he crossed the loft and immediately pulled him into a hug. Derek noted the raise in heartbeat and how Stiles stiffened like a plank, muscles stiff. Lydia didn't remove herself, and eventually, Stiles sagged against her, shaking hands wrapping around her back and forehead dropping to her shoulder. Derek shoved down the swell of jealously and was instead thankful that Stiles was even there.

When Lydia detached herself, she grabbed Stiles by the hand and guided him to the sitting area. Stiles situated himself in the empty love seat, looking small as he curled in on himself against the mountain of pillows.

"What are we doing here?" Scott had asked, voice small and cracking.

"We need to heal, and we should do it together. Allison wouldn't want us like this, she'd want us to carry on with life. We need to find some normalcy, so we're going to watch a movie together and eat some food like we used to."

No one had argued when Lydia put a Disney film on the TV and curled up on the couch beside Scott. After that day, things did improve. The pack began to heal, slowly but surely. The meetings and Friday movie nights became routine again. Everyone was beginning to fall back into place, sealing the cracks that had formed and repairing the damage done. It wasn't perfect, and it was never going to be. They had lost a large, vital and irreplaceable member of their pack and lives. It was never going to be the same, but that didn't mean they couldn't be happy and heal.

Derek doesn't know what urged him to go over to the Stilinski house hold a few weeks later, but he's bloody glad he went. He was barely a few feet away from the grass below Stiles' bedroom window when he heard the familiar sound of a faint sob. The sound, despite being quiet and muffled, sent Derek's wolf into overdrive and he was leaping up onto the window ledge and climbing inside before he could really think about it.

He was startled to find the bedroom empty. The first thing that hit him was the scent of misery and guilt, so strong and suffocating as it clung to every inch and object in the room. Derek could barely stop himself from whining, unable to understand why Stiles had to suffer through this alone.

The next soft cry snapped him out of his thoughts. He was following the sound before the next cry followed, leading him to the bathroom where he found the door wide open and Stiles sitting under the sink.

The teen hiccups when he looks up, tears streaming down his cheeks like small rivers and eyes puffy and red, swollen with misery.  He's curled in on himself, knees up his chest and trembling arms wrapped around himself as if he could make himself unseen.

Derek felt his heart literally break.

"Stiles," he whispered, approaching slowly and cautiously. When he was close enough, he crouched down almost at eye level with the shaking male that was no more than a child. Now he was closer, he could see the sharp lines of his prominent cheekbones, the colourless lips disgusting with the sickly pale skin. Underneath the blood-shot eyes were bruises of obvious exhaustion.

Derek wasn't expecting Stiles to launch himself into Derek's chest, but he reacted quickly, taking in the sobbing teen and wrapping his arms protectively around him. Stiles cried into his chest, wailed and trembled. His pain was pouring out, coming so unexpectedly that Derek cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Not addressing the pain he had suspected Stiles was in, should have acted on instinct and the duty of a friend, because it was obvious Stiles needed a shoulder to cry on.

"You're okay," Derek murmured, rubbing a hand up and down the shaking knobs of his spine. "You're gonna be okay, Stiles. You're not alone, it's not your fault. Breath with me, calm down. Everyone's okay, everyone's fine."

Stiles choked a sob against his chest, hands wrung in his shirt, gripping tight and desperate. He sounded so fragile, so hurt and broken that Derek could barely blink back the tears in his own eyes. He'd never felt this sad and distraught since the fire, and the time before that when Paige was dying in his arms. But even then, it didn't hurt like this. This was worse, deeper like a never healing knife wound. This hurt more because it's been going on for weeks, Stiles has been crumbling and suffering alone because Derek was too weak and pathetic to act on his feelings and help Stiles.

Derek doesn't know how long he was sitting on the Stilinski bathroom floor, cradling and supporting his pack mate. But when Stiles finally found the breath to sit back, he looked worse than before. His eyelashes were clumped together, jet black with tears. His cheeks were wet and tinted red. Eyes sore and raw. He looked open and vulnerable, ruined and battered like a old toy that has been abandoned after years of careless play.

With a gentle touch, Derek brushed the pad of his thumb under one of Stiles' eyes, wiping away the falling tear. Stiles was staring back at him, whiskey orbs bright in the florescent bathroom lights.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles whispered, voice cracking and raspy.

Derek flashed him a small smile, hoping it would transfer some sort of comfort to the aching teen. "I came to see if you were okay," he replied, tone as gentle as the hand rubbing Stiles' shoulder with small circles. "You're not okay, are you?"

Stiles continued to stare at him with unblinking eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and Derek would bet his right arm he was going to lie 'I'm fine'. But then his mouth snapped closed, lip trembling and eyes filling with a fresh pool of tears. He shook his head, small and shakily.

Derek didn't hesitate to pull Stiles back into his chest, arms winding around his back for security. Stiles curled into his chest without protest, small sobs starting again.

"It's okay. It's okay not to be okay," Derek whispered into the soft, messy mop of brown hair. "You'll heal, it'll get better and one day you can say you're fine and won't have to lie about it. But it's okay that today is not that day."

They moved into the bedroom sometime later, laying down on the bed. Derek wasn't planning on staying, but when Stiles grasped his wrist and looked at him with those big, hopeful and scared eyes, he didn't hesitate to kick off his shoes and climb under the covers next to him.

Stiles was the same as he had been at the pack meetings. He hadn't changed, good nor bad. He was still keep his distance from the pack. Still looking pale and sick, tired and wary, jumping at every sudden and small sound. It pained Derek to see him so uncomfortable in his own skin.

Stiles was falling asleep next to him, breaths deep and soft, but Derek could see him resisting. In the dim light of the room, Stiles kept desperatly blinking his eyes open in the will to stay awake. Derek couldn't stand it any longer, looking at the exhausted face and sunken eyes in so much need for rest. He grabbed Stiles' hand, the skin cold against his own and small. Stiles' eyes met his, and Derek squeezed his hand gently.

"Go to sleep," he whispered into the silence. "I'll be here when you wake up."

The short reassurance seemed to calm Stiles somewhat. His tense body lost some of the stiffness and he relaxed slightly against the mattress, but not by much. He was still too wired to fall asleep, so Derek took charge.

He moved closer, pulling Stiles into him gently. He kept their one hands connected, pressed between their chests and he wound the other one around Stiles' neck to hold his head, running his fingers gently through the soft strands of hair at the back of his head. The small, comforting gestures caused Stiles to drop like a hot rock into the abyss of sleep.

Derek followed soon after, rocking and comforted by the steady heartbeat and rhythmic breathing.

-

5. The melody of someone's voice.

"What was it?"

"There's a lot of myths," Derek began, looking up from the locker room floor to Stiles, who was standing a few feet away. "About how people can be turned into a werewolf. Usually, it's a bite, and there's one about rain water."

"Rain water out of the puddle of a werewolf's print," Stiles said, nodding.

"There's another one," Derek continued. "A way that someone can be turned by a scratch, if the claws go deep enough. I dreamed. . .I dreamed about Kate. She wasn't dead, she was alive, she was a were but I don't know which one. She didn't die when Peter killed her, she turned, and she was in my loft."

"Derek," Stiles sat down on the bench opposite him, looking at him with concern, "if this is all just a dream, then why do you look so worried?"

Derek shook his head in small movements. "Because I don't remember waking up. So. . .so tell me, how do you know? How do you know if you're still dreaming?"

"Fingers. In dreams you have extra fingers," Stiles replied. Derek didn't hesitate a moment before he snatched Stiles by the wrist and brought his hand up.

6 fingers.

Suddenly, the world folded like an envelope. Stiles was gone, as was the locker room. He was standing in his loft, smoke and darkness around him. His chest burned, fire and pain burning through him. He dropped to his knees, hands hovering over the sudden gun shot wound at the bottom of his chest.

He looked down at the blood stain. "It's real," he whispered to himself.

Looking up, he saw a figure approach and appear in the white fog around him.

"You're real,"

"That's right, Derek," Kate replied as she stalked forward, hips swaying and gun loose at her side in her fingers. "And if seeing me is a surprise, watch this,"

Suddenly, like a werewolf would, her face began to morph and shift. Only, she wasn't shifting into a wolf. Her eyes glowed green, teeth canines growing and skin turning blue with black smudges. She let out a roar, deep and loud.

"Derek,"

The voice that spoke didn't belong. It wasn't here, it was distance, like an echo. Derek barely heard it over the deafening roar.

"Derek, wake up,"

He couldn't pin point who it was or where they were. Black spots were dancing in his vision. His head felt cloudy, ears muffled. Kate was watching him, Kate was alive and he couldn't breath.

"Derek! Wake up!" The voice was more urgent, pleading.

His lungs stopped working. He was suffocating. He couldn't—

"Wake up!"

Derek snapped into consciousness with a breathless gasp. The first thing he saw was the ceiling, and then he was jackknifing into a sitting position. His skin was crawling, tingling and too tight. His hand went to his chest where the gaping hole was no longer there, where his t-shirt was no longer sticky with blood. His lungs were clenched, muscles tort and refusing to expand. His breath was short, neck cold with sweat.

"Derek?"

The small, unsure voice sent him into a spiral of confusion. His head snapped in the direction to see Stiles sitting up next to him, eyes wide and skin white pale in the moon light that glowed in from his bedroom window.

Derek tried to calm his breathing, to find some kind of steady pattern or rhythm, but he couldn't.

A hand grabbed his own, another one coming to rest on his shoulder.

"Derek," the voice was steadier this time, more stern and commanding. Stiles' eyes met his, the whiskey colour gleaming with a determination that had been missing for so long. "Breath with me. Hold you're breath."

It wasn't helping. This had never happened, in all of Derek's traumatic years, he'd never had a panic attack and he hated this. He couldn't breath and the lack of oxygen filling his lungs only made him panic more. It was a vicious circle, no way out, trapped and—

A pair of lips covered his. He was so startled and surprised he didn't even register the intake of breath he stopped. He sighed into the kiss, melting against the lips against his. Something warm and pleasant fluttered in his chest, replacing the recent panic and tight feeling. It was over as soon as it started and Stiles was pulling away.

Silence settled. Derek was speechless, awed and embarrassed. He'd panicked like that in front of Stiles, something that made him open and vulnerable - something he'd tried so hard to mask. His eyes were conflicted between looking at Stiles' lips or his eyes, both open and unreadable. Stiles was staring right back at him, his own breathing deep as if the kiss had surprised him as much as it had Derek.

The wolf couldn't stand it anymore. He grabbed Stiles by the cheek and collided their lips together again. This one was better, longer, deeper. It was passionate, sweet and sour, like burnt sugar. It was captivating, sending tingles down Derek's spine. Stiles' lips moved with his, as if they had done this a million times. What surprised him most was Stiles was kissing back with as much if not more enthusiasm.

The next time they pulled away was because they were breathless. Derek took in Stiles' appearance with one look. He was still pale and he looked just as tired as he was hours ago before they fell asleep, but now his cheeks were tinted with a healthy red glow, eyes dilated and lips swollen and pink.

"You like me?" Stiles whispered, breaking the silence that was only filled by their heavy breathing.

Derek smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Stiles smiled back, a small action that had been absent for too long and made Stiles look hypnotising-ly beautiful. "I like you too. I like you a lot."

"Good," Derek replied, pulling him in for another hungry and desperate kiss. "You're it for me, Stiles." He whispered against the teens lips. "You're everything."

They were healing, Derek decided. And now, they could heal together.

— fin.