#but anyways i replaced the being kept in a cell to having to live w delilah & sylas for a year or so before he starts to talk

[xbadnews-a]

pov: modern!percy trying to explain to you that necromancers killed his family

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Run to You Part Two

Derek Morgan x Reader

Words: 2494

Part One

Summary: Having been dating for a while, you finally feel comfortable enough to introduce your boyfriend to your daughter, Angelica. Derek takes on the role better than you could have imagined and you start to feel like a family. Then one day, Angelica disappears from a friend’s house and your ex husband starts making demands. 

Notes: Thank you all for the support you’ve shown for this series so far! Funnily enough, this three parter is actually similar to a Fox Mulder x Reader series I started a couple of months ago that may or may not see the light of day. I guess if you guys really like this plot and if you like The X Files, let me know if you’d be interested in that. 

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, stalking, kidnapping. 

More Criminal Minds: HERE

-

Derek made a half-hour drive take twenty minutes and pulled up to the front of the school. Local police had already been called in and were bombarding you with questions. He broke through the wall of officers to get to you. 

“Oh thank god,” You exclaimed and he took you in his arms without a second hesitation. “She’s gone.” You sobbed into his chest. “He took her. I know he did.” 

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down and tell us who you think took your daughter.” A female officer said calmly, taking another step towards you.

“Stop crowding her. Everybody back up!” Derek ordered. 

“I’m sorry, sir, who are you?” Another officer asked, sounding defensive. Derek pulled out his badge. 

“SSA Derek Morgan. I’m from the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” 

“It’s a little early to call you guys in, isn’t it?” The first officer said. 

“I’m not here officially. I know the missing girl.” 

“Then we’re going to need to ask you a few questions.” The defensive officer snapped. You pushed in between them. 

“I know who took her. Please, we have to find my baby.” 

“Y/N, just take a deep breath, okay.” Derek put a hand on your shoulder and waited for you to calm down a little. “Now, what do you mean you know who took Angelica?” You tried to keep a sob from escaping, but the tears fell freely. 

“Her father.” You watched Derek’s face morph with confusion. “My ex-husband.” 

-

You sat in the police station with Derek’s hand running up and down your back as you slowly sipped a glass of water. You hardly remembered getting there or seeing members of Derek’s team arrive. Since there was already a leading suspect, the BAU wouldn’t be called in, but Agent Hotchner and Agent Prentiss came anyway to help Derek consult with the police. 

“Ma’am, my name is Gina. I’m going to need to ask you a couple of questions, okay?” The officer from earlier started. You nodded, drinking the rest of your water. 

“Um, Derek, maybe you should go talk to Agent Hotchner and Agent Prentiss. Ask them what they need to know from me.” You suggested. You didn’t want to have to explain everything to him like it was an interrogation. Derek nodded in understanding and gently kissed the side of your head. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” He gave Gina a thankful smile and joined Hotch. 

“The police said they don’t have any problems with us being here as long as we stay out of their way.” Hotch informed, casting a sympathetic look in your direction. “How is she?”

“Her little girl is missing, Hotch. She’s doing about as well as you’d expect.” Morgan sighed. 

“What do we know about the suspect? She seems pretty certain that her ex is the one that took her daughter.” Prentiss asked. 

“Just his name and that they used to be married. I’m gonna call and see what Garcia can dig up.” He pulled out his cell and kept his eyes on you as you spoke to the officer. 

“All-knowing goddess, what can I do for you?” Penelope answered cheerfully. 

“I need your help, babygirl.” He said seriously. “Y/N’s little girl is missing.” 

“Oh god.” She gasped. With still so many more questions, she readied her fingers over her keyboard. “What do you need?”

“Lance Booker. Anything and everything you can find on him: properties, businesses, residences, especially places in the last six years.” He heard a flurry of typing before she answered. 

“Got it. I’ll send you the list forthwith.” There was a long pause, followed by a sad gasp. 

“What is it, Garcia?”

“Lance Booker’s ex-wife, Y/N… your Y/N? Ugh, I hate my job sometimes.” 

“Penelope!” He shouted into the receiver, his sudden outburst making Prentiss jump. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Penelope fretted. “At the time of their divorce six years ago and Y/N receiving full custody of their daughter, Y/N filed a restraining order against Booker with claims of domestic violence. She’s filed multiple reports of stalking since then, but without breaking any of the terms of the restraining order, the police haven’t been able to hold him for anything.” Derek’s hand tightened around the device to the point where he heard the shell crack. 

“Thanks Garcia.” 

“You’re going to find her, Derek.” Penelope assured him quietly. He took a deep breath. 

“I’ll keep you updated. Keep looking into this guy and anyone else who might have taken Angelica.” He snapped his phone shut and pressed it against his forehead, trying to calm himself down. He needed to be the one who held it together. He couldn’t let you see any anger or panic in him because it would just make you angry and panicked even more. 

It seemed like you were finishing up with the officer so he started back in your direction. Seeing him, you stood. Judging from his expression, he knew. 

“Derek, I can explain.” You wanted to reach out to him, but you kept your arms tightly wrapped around yourself as if it kept you from falling to pieces. “I wanted to tell you.” You wiped a stray tear from your cheek. “I wanted to tell you about all of it. About Lance a-and our marriage and everything that happened, but I just didn’t know how.” His eyes softened and he ran his hands down your tense arms. 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, baby.” While there were so many questions in his mind, none of them mattered. All that mattered was that you were here with him and Angelica was out there somewhere with that man.  

The group fell silent as your phone started to ring. With a shaking hand, you looked down at the unfamiliar number, glancing back up at Derek for instructions. He nodded slowly while Prentiss called Garcia to get a trace on the number. You took a deep breath and answered. 

“Hey baby.” The voice on the other end sent a tremor up your spine. You kept your eyes locked on Derek’s to keep from hanging up right there. 

“Lance, where’s Angelica?” You tried to sound calm but you wanted to rip the bastard apart. 

“You know, she doesn’t even remember me?” He hissed. “When I picked her up from school, she had no idea who I was. But I guess that’s what happens when you decide to replace me for six years.” 

“Lance, please. I need to know that she’s okay.” 

“Of course she’s okay. She’s got Agent Morgan protecting her, right? Oh wait, he failed at that too.” He barked furiously. Your body tensed up even more. 

“How do you know about Derek?” You asked slowly. Derek’s expression didn’t change, but he felt a shot of guilt go through him. He was the trigger. 

“I have ways of knowing.” 

“He wants you to change the subject. Keep talking about Angelica.” Agent Hotchner instructed, keeping his voice low so the other end wouldn’t hear. You nodded in understanding. 

“Lance, I need to know that Angelica is okay. I need to hear her voice.” You kept your voice as level as possible. There was a shuffle on the other end and you nearly broke down when you heard Angelica’s confused voice. 

“Mommy? W-where are you? I wanna go home.” 

“I’m coming, baby. Everything is going to be okay.” You cried, hearing the sound of the phone switching back. 

“We’re going to be a family again.” Lance growled. “I’ll call again soon.” The line went quiet and you finally stopped holding your breath, leaning against the desk. You let the phone slip out of your hand and fall to the floor. 

“Did we get a trace?” Morgan called to the agents behind him, keeping his eyes glued on you. Hotch sighed. 

“Garcia said there was something interfering with the signal.” 

“Lance was a phone technician, he knows how to hide.” You said blankly. “He won’t let us find him until he wants us too.” 

The agents and officers around you were in a frenzy trying to dig up all of the information they could possibly find on Lance. Every time they said his name, you felt the back of his hand or the heel of his boot. For six years, you had been free of him. Angelica had been free of him. How dare he come back and ruin what you had built all on your own?

 Something inside of you switched. You weren’t just  frightened anymore. You were pissed off.

-

You didn’t move. You didn’t eat the food Derek had put in front of you. You didn’t drink the water he’d brought either. All you could do was stare at the phone, leg bouncing up and down anxiously. You hadn’t wanted to go home, but both the police and Agent Hotchner thought it would be a good idea in case Lance tried to contact you there. A team was setting up a device to hook your phone up to so they could control the line. All you could do was watch from the kitchen table, hands clasped in front of you like you were praying.

Derek watched you from the living room as his team set up the phone. He sat down on the couch, running a hand down his face. He should have asked you about Lance sooner. Maybe he could have prevented this if he only knew what had happened. 

“We’re going to find her, Derek.” Prentiss said, sitting down next to him. She’d watched the way that this was tearing him apart. He didn’t respond. Both watched as the youngest of their team approached your table. 

“Miss Y/L/N?” You looked up, finding the agent you could only assume was Dr. Reid. No one else was that young. 

“Yes?”

“I, um, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I work with Morgan- I mean, Derek.” He asked to sit down and you just nodded in response. “I would like to talk to you about your ex-husband, if that’s okay?” 

“I don’t know what else I can tell you.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Lance was… mean. He was controlling and when he didn’t get what he wanted, he got violent. But he never hurt Angelica. Ever.” You stared at the table’s wooden surface. “I was always there to protect her.” You felt a tear slip down your cheek. Reid’s lips formed a thin line. 

“What was he like before? When you first met him or when you first got married?”

“Well he wasn’t the monster he is now, I can tell you that.” You sneered. “When I met him, he was sweet. Sure, he was mysterious and attractive, so I did whatever he said, but he was romantic and- and different from the other guys I’d dated. When we got married, I thought ‘this is it’, you know? Standing in that little church, everything felt exactly like it was supposed to. But after Angelica was born, everything changed. It was like he’d been hiding this creature under his skin all those years and it was finally emerging.” 

“Do you remember anything specific that might have triggered this change?” 

You shook your head. “I just remember the first time it happened. There weren’t any warning signs or anything. He hadn’t been irritable or upset. He just… snapped. Angelica was in her high chair and she had thrown her bowl of food on the floor. He must have heard the sound and he came into the kitchen. When I knelt down to clean it, he grabbed my hair and pulled me up, screaming about how it was my fault. How I made a mess and that he was going to show me what happens to people who mess up his life. And then he hit me. He hit me over and over and left me on the floor to clean. I should’ve- I should have left him right there. I should have taken her and run, but I didn’t. In my head, it wasn’t his fault. It was because of his past, it was because of me. I should have run. I should have left. I should-” 

“Miss Y/L/N.” Reid interrupted, allowing you to gasp for air. You must have forgotten to breathe. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was stopped by the shrill, dooming sound of the phone. 

You bolted from the table and joined the agents in the living room, waiting for the signal to answer. 

“Okay, you remember how it works?” Derek asked. You nodded. “Alright. Keep him talking. Don’t let him go off the subject of Angelica. You just want your daughter back. You don’t want to hurt him.” He pointed at the device and you picked up the receiver with a shaking hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Tell Agent Morgan he can’t replace me.” 

“Lance, I’m tired. I just want Angelica back safe.”

“No, you want to play happy family with your BAU boyfriend. He isn’t her father. I am!” He spoke with the fury of a madman. Derek looked at the rest of the team grimly. Lance was spiralling. 

“What do you want me to do, Lance? I’ll do anything to get her back, just please, I miss my daughter.” You cried. Derek pressed the button and muted the call. 

“Y/N, you have to keep calm. I know it’s hard, but Lance is trying to push you. He wants you to break, but you can’t.” He took your hand, softening his tone. “I’m right here. You can do this.” Under Derek’s comforting voice, you could hear Lance start to ramble. 

“I just want us to be happy again. Do you remember when we were happy?” You waited for Derek to press the button again before responding. 

“Y-yeah, I remember.” 

“We can be happy again. We can be happy again…” His voice trailed off and you heard a shuffling sound. 

“Wait, don’t hang-” You exclaimed, but the line went dead. You slammed the receiver back down and kicked the coffee table it sat on. “He’s going to kill her. He’s going to kill her.” You pushed a lamp over and listened to the bulb shatter against the carpet. Before you could break anything else, or hurt yourself, Derek locked his arms around you, pinning yours to your side. “Let me go! He’s going to kill her! It’s my fault! It’s all my fault!” 

He kept a hold of you as you screamed, sitting down on the couch with you on his lap. The other agents just stood, watching the scene of turmoil. Reid was standing completely skill, eyes darting in between invisible words in his head. He suddenly looked at Prentiss. 

“Get Garcia on the phone.” He said, turning back to you and Morgan. 

“What did you get?” Prentiss asked. She was still trying to decipher everything that Booker said. Reid swallowed. 

“I think I know where he might be keeping Angelica.” 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

Series: @ weasleytommy, @ lowsodiumfreaks67, @panhoeofmanyfandoms

[anarchy-n-glitter]

RE: Betrayal

Summary: Jolene West thought she was going to say goodbye to the Bakers before leaving for college, but little did she know, their home had become a living hell for outsiders. Now, she has to find a way out after being taken prisoner by Lucas Baker - someone she once called a friend - as she is tortured mentally and physically.

(Warnings: graphic depictions of sexual assault, vulgar language, gore.) If any of these things bother you please don't read. Take care of yourselves guys and stay safe!!! Also this whole first part is written in the first person cause I wrote this a w h i l e ago.

PART 1

CHAPTER 1

The hot and humid late summer Louisiana air blew through the open windows of my car. I felt nervous and a little saddened about my oncoming departure from Dulvey, but I knew that I could come back for the holidays and return for good after I was done with college… if I wanted to, that is.

There was nothing but dense swamp flora before me as I drove into the forest next to my old friends’ home. While I hadn’t heard from them in a few months, I figured it had been because of the possible damage that could’ve been done after the hurricane that came through. They were fixing their house up, it seemed the most logical to me. These people were like family to me, I had been friends with their children since I could remember. The only time we weren’t together was when my family and I briefly moved to Georgia due to my father’s new job. Obviously it didn’t last long, we weren’t there for more than six months before moving back home to Dulvey. For my little visit, I decided to drive through the forest surrounding their house to surprise them. I could go through the old house and head through the main house front door. I was sure they wouldn’t mind.

The mud stuck to the bottom of my boots and I could only hope that it would rub off on nearby stone or maybe the wood of the old house porch, it would be rude of me to track it inside of their home. There was something strange about the property as I approached it, the smell of smoke filled the air and no one was around. The front seemed to be flooded as well. This worried me.

It was best not to climb over the gate, if I were to do that I’d just end up in a gross and muddy mess, so I decided to go around and through the path to the back. The deeper I ventured, the more I worried. Normally they kept up with cleaning the steps and keeping the vegetation trimmed back so one could easily walk through, but everything had become overgrown and the wooden steps were covered in mud. As the trail opened up to the lake, I noticed how dirty everything else had become. While yes, it was outdoors, everything was well kept a few months ago, but now it was muddy. Everything. I blamed it on the storm again and moved on. Although, I did find it interesting when I found rope blocking off the opening to the lake. I had a bad feeling about it, but I went through it anyway. I would regret it later.

The side of the house came into view at last! I clutched at my bag, running up the steps and checked under the mat for the key. I couldn’t seem to find it, which completely ruined my plans. Quickly, I knocked on the door, hoping that maybe someone was inside the house. As my fist beat down on the door, it opened. No one seemed to be in sight, but I went in anyway. Another decision I would later regret.

The house was peeling away and reeked of mold. I feared for my health and the health of The Bakers. The wooden planks beneath my feet creaked with every step I took and gave away my position in the house to anyone or anything that resided within it. The kitchen table was cluttered and held a whole bunch of newspapers that were damp, ruined. There were a few garbage bags scattered among the halls, decorating the house and adding to my growing worry. The furniture had become damaged as well, the stuffing coming out of a few rips in the couches. After a while, I had actually come across mold. I had walked by an opened drawer and noticed the black fungus inside. But it looked weird. It wasn’t like any mold I had ever seen. I didn’t dare pay any more attention to it than I needed, though. At the time it was just regular mold to me.

As I made my way around the old house, I heard creaking from other rooms. My nerves were set on edge and I found myself frantically trying to open the door. For some strange reason, the setting of the old house had gotten to me. It was nothing like I remembered and there was an unsettling feeling that took over me. The door wouldn’t open, however. My breath quickened as the footsteps got closer, so I did what I thought would save me.

“Hello? Mr. Jack? Mrs. Marguerite? It’s me, Jolene. I came to say bye…” I stated as I cautiously made my way down the hallway once more. There was no answer, and that startled me even more. Perhaps it wasn’t them, maybe it was someone who had broken in. If that were the case, I was in a whole lot of trouble.

“Lucas? Zoe?” I called out. There was still no answer, only the sounds of footsteps quickening. I could barely see a thing due to the windows still being boarded up from the storm. My heartbeat echoed through my ears and I was sure others in the house could hear it, even if I knew that probably wasn’t the case. The living room was to my left and the closest room I could escape into, so I did. The familiar sound of the tv static filled my ears and replaced the sounds of my heartbeat and the foreign footsteps. This wasn’t the best thing though, how could I tell if they were getting closer to my hiding spot if the static was deafening?

I rushed to the tv set, turning it off. Finally, there was complete silence… but that wasn’t right. By the time I realized the footsteps had stopped, there was a rag over my mouth. I began to panic, which didn’t help at all. Within a few seconds I was out cold. It was a heavy, dreamless sleep that enveloped me after the rag was pressed to my face. Nothing but inky blackness and no memories of that sleep that overcame me.

CHAPTER 2

Instead of any answers to the questions that looped around in my head, I was locked in a cell, seated on the floor. There was a bed placed against the stone brick wall with salmon-colored blankets draped over it. The floor, which was cement, was damp with a few actual puddles in random places. There was a single lamp attached to the wall above my head, illuminating the otherwise dark cell. As I stood from my place on the floor, a body came into view. I jumped, accidentally hitting my head on the lamp, moving it slightly from the position it was in.

Indeed, there was a woman sleeping on the bed. Her raven locks spread on the pillow and covering her face. She wasn’t under the blankets, instead curled up on top of them. Her shirt was dirty and greying, but I felt as if I had seen it before. I shrugged this feeling off, however, and walked away from the stranger’s sleeping form.

If I were to find out just what happened and if I were still in the Baker’s home, it would be a miracle. I had just begun living a hellish life. Sadly, for me, there was no escaping from it.

The gate before me was just sitting there, taunting me as I sat with my arms wrapped around my knees. It’s only lock, which was a single chain held together by a lock that required a key to remove, was winking at me mockingly in the LED light that flooded across from the desk on the other side of the room. I felt like I was watching the bars of the cell door rust and crumble with my bare eyes. It was almost as if I was going insane down here. I had felt every wall, nook and cranny. I tried pulling out every single stone on the wall to find a hidden passage to the outside world. I just wanted to get out, and this stupid cell door was sneering at me, just rubbing my captivity in my face. So, I did the only thing I hadn’t done yet. I gripped the bars and shook the door, hoping it would break off.

The stranger in the bed stirred as I rattled the gates. I wanted out, this was driving me crazy and I had actually begun to panic. They couldn’t keep us in here, whoever they were. We weren’t animals, we weren’t meant to be caged. Come to think of it, not even animals deserve to be caged, especially in conditions like this. It had been at least two days since I woke up in this cell, or at least I thought it was. There were no windows down here or any source of light to tell me if it was day or night, to tell me when to wake up or when to go to sleep. There wasn’t a clock or a calendar to tell me how many days had gone by. My body was completely thrown off by this, especially since I had been passing out due to sheer exhaustion. I knew that restlessly searching the cell was a bad idea from the start, but it was worth a shot.

The air was thick and hard to breath, making me wonder how long this woman had been here for. From behind me, I could hear the gentle taps of shoes touching the ground. The woman must have finally awoken. I remained seated seeing as I wouldn’t want to startle her. She must have been down here for a long time seeing as her body was covered in dark mud. I didn’t observe her up close while she slept, that would have been creepy.

“Wha-who are you?” Her voice was soft yet had this uneasy sound to it as she spoke. It was clear that she was scared. I turned around, wrapping my arms around my legs, bringing them to my chest and resting my head on my bare knees. The tights I wore had ripped when I woke up, luckily the scabs had formed by now and the stinging had gone. My cheeks were red, my eyes as well. She furrowed her eyebrows at my appearance, slowly gliding off of the bedside and sitting on the floor across from me.

“How did you get here?” She asked, this time a bit louder and less frantic.

“I don’t know how I got in here, but I do know how I got to this estate. I drove.” I drawled. She looked down at the ground, grabbing her upper arm.

“Why would you come here?” She inquired, she sounded frantic once again. I sat there, contemplating her question. Why would I go there? Did I even remember why I was coming here? I didn’t spend much time dwelling on this question before shrugging. Whatever reason it was that dragged me here, it must have been really important.

“My name’s Jolene.” I told her in a voice softer than silk. Her expression changed slightly, it was subtle enough so anyone who wasn’t focusing on her directly wouldn’t notice, but she smiled. It was quite faint and I could barely tell he was smiling, but she was.

“Mia.”

“So, Mia, when did ya get here?” I asked her. Maybe she had arrived shortly before I did and we might have a chance at getting out.

“I-I don’t remember. I-It’s been so long.” She explained. I felt my body go numb at this. Maybe she was like me and lost track of time and it felt like forever. I was panicking again, what if she was right? What if she has been here for a while? I had to get out of here.

“Are you okay?” She asked, looking me in the eye with worry. My breathing became ragged and the tears started up again.

“Will ya help me?”

“What?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I need to get out of here. I know that if we try we can both get out of here.” I told her, sounding more frantic by the second as I grabbed her shoulders. She looked away for a moment before looking at me with a glint of determination in her eye.

“I’ll help.” And with that, we planned our escape. She told me about when they bring the food in and where they come from. For her, they come once a day with food through the stone hallway at the end of the room. According to Mia, it was either Marguerite or Lucas who came to bring the rancid food. This threw me off briefly, I remembered her cooking and it was usually the best. There was definitely something wrong here. I had an idea on what to do if it’s Lucas, but I was still at a loss for ideas if Marguerite comes. All of my bags were in my car, which was probably gone by now, and my bags had bobby pins that I could have used by now. It took a few days to coordinate what we were going to do, plan everything. When we got out, we would make our way through the stone corridor and go from there. Hopefully, there would be a clear path leading us to the outside world instead of multiple doors that would trap us in this hellhole.

All of our planning paid off in the end, Lucas had brought the food. He unlocked the chain, stuffing the key in his pocket before opening the door just wide enough to slide the food in. I looked at Mia briefly before standing up and approaching the door. He slammed the door shut and locked the chain as I gripped the bars, pressing my entire body against the door to get as close as possible, he ignored this and began to walk away.

“Lucas? I-is it really you?” I asked, my voice uneven. He smirked at me, turning around and approaching the bars once more. He didn’t say anything, only staring at me through the rusty bars of the cell door. I reached out with one hand to make sure he was real, or at least to make it seem like I was. While my right hand ghosted along his cheekbones, my other one slid into his jacket pocket. Carefully, I gripped the key and withdrew my hand from his pocket before gently wrapping my hand around the bars, the key safe in my palm. Stubble scratched at my fingertips as I pulled my hand away, my eyes glued to his pale and sunken-in features. All I wanted now was for him to leave, and he showed no intent on staying. That was all I could gather from studying his almost emotionless expression. I hoped he planned on leaving soon.

“Well then, if I didn’t know any better I’d say I was dreaming. Jolene. Long time no see.” He mused as a wide and chilling smile making its way to his pale, thin lips. I masked my nerves to the best of my abilities and faked a small smile while averting my eyes.

“I-I thought you were dead…” I mentioned in a tone barely above a whisper. I looked back up, tears filling my eyes as I thought about my childhood, them before they supposedly ‘died.’

“I thought ya all were.” I continued, sadness laced within my words as I spoke them. Mia stood silently behind me as I conversed with my long lost friend. Although, he barely seemed like my childhood companion. Not only had he physically changed, but personality wise as well. He was like a completely different person; a much louder and cockier person.

“Guess we proved you wrong then, huh?” His words echoed within the walls, ringing in my ears along with the laughter that followed. A chill went down my spine once more and I found myself unable to look at him. Not only was I unable to look at him; I was unable to discover why he was like this, no, why they were all like this. It didn’t make sense. The Bakers were so kind and welcoming, but now… I hadn’t seen any of them except for Lucas, who I hadn’t seen up until now. He was never as welcoming as the rest of his family and normally seemed cold and reserved, but he was never loud and obnoxious. He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning, blonde hair.

“I really hope she likes you, it’d be a shame if she didn’t.” He states nonchalantly before walking away, leaving me only a few moments to process this cryptic statement and barely enough time to react.

“Wait, ‘she?’ Lucas, wait! Who’re ya talking about?” I inquired. My only answer was the sound of a door closing that bounced off of the walls and throughout the cell. I looked back at Mia, who was seated on the bed once again, staring at me with wide, curious eyes. I realized what she was waiting for and opened my left palm, revealing the small, silver key. Her whole demeanor had changed with this reveal, she hopped to her feet and made her way to the door, waiting for me to unlock it.

“Ya remember the plan, right?” She asked, her voice giving off hints of nervousness. I nodded before slipping my arms between the bars and grasping at the chain to retrieve the lock. I jammed the key within the lock and turned it, pulling it down and off of the chain. A loud clattering was bouncing off of the walls and I had to quickly silence it by pulling the manacle out myself, instead of letting it drop to the floor. The cell door squeaked on its hinges as we made our way out of the cell.

It was dead silent, no noise was heard other than our breath and footsteps. This was unnerving and made me feel quite sick. With every shaky breath I took and every sneaking footstep, I felt as if someone could hear it; I felt as if someone could see it. We inched closer, towards a small crawlspace that opened up into another room. I remembered Mia mentioned this room when she told me about the rooms leading up to our cell. I was too quick to celebrate. I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard Mia drop. Slowly, I turned my head to see what had happened. When I didn’t notice a figure behind her or anywhere near us, I rushed to help her.

“M-Mia… Mia come on, we have to go.” I shook her gently. The only response I got was a low, growl-like sound.

“I can’t leave.” She rasped. I jumped, falling backward onto the concrete floor. Mia stood, raising her head to reveal her completely blackened eyes and grey-looking skin. My breathing quickened as she approached me. It wasn’t long before she had my wrist in her deadly grip.

“I can never leave!” She exclaimed in her new, demonic-sounding voice. And with that she threw me across the room, through the wooden crawlspace which broke upon impact. I groaned and attempted to get up, but once I had regained my composure, she was running toward me. I turned around and squeezed through the crawlspace, barely avoiding her clawing hands. I slid through the crawlspace and rushed to the door on the other side of the room. I knew she was catching up to me.

Once the door was open, I collided into something... or someone. They slammed the door shut and yanked me up by my hair.

“Did ya think I wouldn’t have noticed that the damn key was missing? Hm? Ya must think I’m pretty fucking stupid. What made ya think that’d work? Huh?” My blood ran cold as soon as he spoke. He must have been waiting. He knew we’d escape, was Mia the ‘she’ he was talking about. His grip on my hair loosened and I tried to run, but he grabbed ahold again, this time dragging me along with him.

“P-please let me go back… I swear I won’t t-try to escape ag-again.” I pleaded. The only response I got from him was a mix between a scoff and a laugh before telling me what was going to happen.

“Oh no, you… are going to the mines.” He growled. The mines were always creepy to me, which was why I refused to go near them. There were records of people dying in there, thus creating rumors that they were haunted, which was what kept me out. The mines were definitely going to become my worst nightmare, that much I knew. Next thing I knew there was a cloth pressed against my face again, and I was out cold, caught in a dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER 3

(THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF RAPE AND SEXUAL ASSAULT; PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Something felt off when I had awoken. My head was still fuzzy from what happened before I was knocked out, but I remembered how I had gotten there. Mia’s grey skin and angry face was still seared into my mind and I still had a lot of questions. I took in my new surroundings and it was true that I was not in a traditional cell any more, but instead in the mines as Lucas had promised. I was in a bed this time, facing the farthest wall. I took in my surroundings, taking note of the white, cement-like substance that made up the walls and immediately remembering that it was salt. There was a bright, LED lamp hanging from the ceiling that was closest to the foot of the bed. My eyes trailed to the door. It was a large, metallic, sturdy-looking door with gears and complicated locks on it. It was clear that they didn’t want me getting away this time.

I soon noticed something in the middle of the room; I noticed something that would chill me to the bone. My clothes, everything I was wearing, was folded up on the ground with an old, brass key sitting on top of the pile. My eyes widened as I soon realized that I was fully nude beneath the old, worn sheets, and my left leg was shackled to the metal-bar foot board. I broke out in a cold sweat and rushed to get up. The pile of clothes and the key seemed to be close enough for me to crawl and at least drag it over.

“Good! Yer awake!” A voice echoed over an intercom. I grimaced and realized that he had been watching the entire time. I should have known.

“So, here’s how it’s gonna go.” He began in an almost taunting voice. “If ya can get the key and yer clothes before yer time is up, ya can go free.” He explained. I glared at the ground.

“How long do I have?”

“I’ll make it fair, ya have fifteen seconds to grab that key.” He told me. The amount of amusement present in his voice was quite alarming. It was sickening. As soon as I heard him utter the words ‘go,’ I was on the ground reaching for the pile of clothes. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that it was just out of reach. My stomach dropped at this realization.

“Ten.”

“This is impossible.” I muttered to myself, tears filling my eyes like water would fill a swimming pool. I stopped trying, knowing that my futile attempts were bringing him some sick form of pleasure.

“Five.” He drawled. I stood up and crawled back onto the bed before curling into a ball and crying. This was a nightmare, at this point in my life, I regretted fearing anything other than this. This had quickly become a living hell. I’m sure I wouldn’t be half as frightened of this if I still had my clothes.

“Aww, did ya give up?” I scowled at his taunting.

“What the hell do you think?” I asked rhetorically. He laughed at this. He just laughed. Next thing I knew, everything was silent. The intercom was off, that was obvious due to his laughter being cut off, and for some reason, that was more unnerving than when the intercom was on. So, for the next few minutes I sat alone, fighting back tears, knowing that crying wouldn’t do me any good. Everything was silent, almost peaceful. It would have been enjoyable if not for why I was here.

Footsteps had interrupted my peace. Echoing footsteps from just outside the door. I sat up, holding the blanket over myself and bringing my knees up… I was cowering. The door had opened with a loud creak before revealing the source of the footsteps. Of course it was him. He smiled at me with that terrifying, wide smile that made my blood run cold. He walked into the room, closing the door behind him and kicking the pile of clothes and the key away. He inched toward the bed in large strides, making me cower in the corner where the bed and wall met.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He greeted me giddily. I avoided making eye contact and focused on my sheet-covered foot.

“Come on, baby girl, look at me.” I refused to do so, instead, I turned my head in an act of defiance. He scoffed before speaking again.

“Jolene, don’t make me do something I wouldn’t want to.” His voice was low and served as my first and only warning. I didn’t want to make him angry, considering this was him when he was in a good mood and I was scared of him as it was.

“There we go, now was that so hard?” I refused to answer, actually, I think it was rhetorical. Now was my chance to ask about Mia and to find out what happened.

“What happened to Mia? She… she changed. It was like… she wasn’t human.” I asked. Lucas chuckled at my questions before leaning forward and taking my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Don’t you worry yer pretty little head about that. Anything that happens outside of here doesn’t matter anymore.” He states before dipping his head and hovering over my collarbone. I stiffened as he moved closer to me, his breath dancing across my bare shoulders and leaving behind goosebumps in its place. My heartbeat sped up as he crawled onto the bed, getting way too close for comfort, I attempted to back up further, but couldn’t go too far before my back hit the wall. I was cornered, but it wasn’t like I could get away if I wasn’t currently in a corner.

“Yer mine now.” He muttered against my skin as he grasped my shoulders. I wanted to scream, but I found myself unable to do anything other than grab the front of his hoodie.

“What are ya doing?” I surprised myself by talking, I was sure my tongue was paralyzed along with the rest of my fear-stricken body. Lucas didn’t stop pursuing after I uttered these words, instead, he closed the gap between our bodies, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I let go of his hoodie and placed my hands on his shoulders, gently pushing him away from me. A deep growl emitted from him as he nipped at my neck. I audibly squeaked. That was when I realized what he was doing. My breathing picked up as I began panicking and trying to shove him off of me and succeeding for a brief moment.

My screams and cries for help barely surfaced before Lucas grabbed my legs and pulled them so they were laying straight while at the same time pulling me closer to him. He climbed on top of me and had me pinned once again, one hand holding my wrists and the other clamped over my mouth. I struggled beneath him, trying to break free from his grasp and screaming. I knew no one could hear me, it wasn’t for them to hear, it was more of a reflex if anything, a noise I made in sheer terror. Because that’s what I was, terrified. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head before leaning down once more to bite and kiss at my neck again. I continued to thrash around, but his weight kept me in place. Once my cries for help had died down to small whimpers, he took his hand off of my mouth. With the same hand, he ripped the blanket from my own hands and grasped for the soft flesh I had hidden beneath. I gasped and used all my strength to throw him off of me. I could only get my arms free of his grasp. Of course, this started a struggle, he tried to pin my arms again and I tried to find some sort of leverage.

It was all so sudden, there was the feeling of my fist coming into contact with a prickly surface, then the weight on my waist had been lifted, and I was up and struggling to run toward the door and key. An angry groan emitted from behind me and I knew that if I didn’t get away I was doomed. And doomed I was, he grabbed ahold of my hair and tugged me back as I struggled to grab the key. Instead of pulling me onto the bed, he flipped me over. Due to the shackle on my left ankle, my entire left leg was lifted and still on the bed, spreading my legs unintentionally. His calloused hands found their way to my neck in an instant and he squeezed until all air was cut from my lungs. I grasped at his sleeves, begging him to stop with only my eyes. He leaned forward, pure anger was written all over his face.

“You…” He began, his voice dripping with venom. Even though I couldn’t see it, I was sure I went pale. His cold glare sent a shiver down my spine.

“You… dumb bitch! If you knew what was good for you…” My vision blurred briefly before his grip let up. I found myself gasping for air and coughing, turning over so I didn’t upset him further by coughing in his face. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“Will you behave now?” He asked me. I nodded, blinking back the tears and preparing myself for what was to come. His chapped lips slammed onto mine as he climbed between my legs, pressing himself against me. My eyes were as wide as the moon, the tears that I was trying to keep away finally fell from my eyes as I realized that I couldn’t get away. He fumbled with his belt buckle, the metal clanking against itself as if it were reminding me of the horrors awaiting me. He pulled away from me, his tongue slightly peeking through his lips. It wasn’t long before he returned his attention to the soft flesh of my neck, him licking a long, wet stripe up to my earlobe. I shuddered in utter disgust, but held my tongue. His hands roamed, squeezing and pinching random places on my body. I cringed at the sound of cloth dropping to the floor.

“You ready for this, baby girl?” He asked rhetorically before pulling his underwear down. I suppressed a sob, trying to ignore the dull pain that lingered in my lower regions. His groans of pleasure filled the room and I quickly found myself to be repulsed by his actions, hell, I was repulsed by him in general at this point. His thrusts were rough and unforgiving, I felt my skin tearing against the ground as I rubbed against it. Although, the word rubbed was an understatement. A sob broke through as the pain became unbearable. He never stopped, only lifted my back, but in the process brought me closer to him. That was not a position I wanted to be in. His other hand trailed to my breasts, squeezing one in his large hand, his thumb running over my nipple.

I bit back small cries - sobs, really - as he continued to chase his own pleasure at my expense. He bit down on my shoulder, drawing blood, the pain ran through me, setting my skin ablaze. I choked on my own spit as I gasped while Lucas sucked at the new wound. A sob escaped me, causing Lucas to stop sucking the blood from my shoulder and look at me. I shut my eyes to prevent any tears from falling, turning my head as well. He grabbed onto my hips harder, his dull fingernails creating crescent shapes in the soft flesh there as he dug into my skin. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, trying my best to ignore his panting and my own small cries.

After a while, everything died down. He was finally finished and was getting dressed, leaving me on the ground, a disturbed and disheveled mess. I had quickly decided that I hated him. I shouldn’t hate him, he used to be my best friend. This… this was unforgivable, though. I finally got up, diving under the sheets. I eyed him warily, watching as he made his way to the door.

“W-wait. Can I get my clothes back?” I stuttered. He looked back at me briefly, flashing a sadistic smile before bursting into laughter. His laugh echoed through the mines as he left, the laugh that would haunt my nightmares.

[shalebridge-cradle]

Historical References in What Are You Going to Do With Your Life - Chapters 10-12

Chapter 10

Boleyn mumbles something about a priest. W. S. Pakenham-Walsh (1868 - 1960), Vicar of Sulgrave, Northhamptonshire, had a strong interest in Anne Boleyn. He claimed to have a series of spiritual experiences after praying at Boleyn’s burial site, and contacted clairvoyants to channel her spirit in the hopes she might become his guardian angel. He also claimed in his diary that he had contact with Henry VIII and other notable members of the Tudor court.

While witchcraft was often punished via the death penalty, Henry VIII made the law explicit in 1542 (though it was later repealed no later than 1547, under Edward VI). Several witchcraft laws were made in the UK over the years, in 1563, 1604, 1649 and 1735. These were all repealed and replaced with more general consumer protection laws, and the last person to be indicted for witchcraft (under the 1735 act) was imprisoned in 1944.

Tarot was a regular set of cards for most of its history, used in various, but similar, trick-taking card card games. It became associated with ancient wisdom in 1781, when Antoine Court de Gébelin wrote an essay claiming (with no evidence) that ancient Egyptian priests had distilled the mystical Book of Thoth into the cards.

“Psychic is Greek, and clairvoyant is French. One is about thinking, and the other is about seeing.” Psychic comes from the Greek word psychikos (‘of the mind’) and clairvoyance is a combination of two French words (‘clear’ and ‘vision’). Catherine of Aragon was known to speak both French and Greek, as well as Latin, her native Spanish, and English.

Cunning man (or woman) was another word for folk healers.

In 1532, Catherine Parr’s brother-in-law from her second marriage, William Neville, was accused of treason for allegedly predicting the king’s death and his own ascension as Earl of Warwick (a title made extinct during the Wars of the Roses, but would be recreated in 1547 and twice after that). He went to at least three magicians to confirm this prediction, all of which agreed that it was meant to be true (it wasn’t). One of these magicians was Richard Jones of Oxford, who was imprisoned and questioned on the matter. He did his best to exonerate himself of responsibility. I have found five references confirming his existence – but many of them claim he had a sceptre he used to ‘summon the four king devils’, which he used for divination purposes.

Chapter 11

Jones of Oxford was taken in for questioning as part of the Neville affair, and he did his best in his confession to exonerate himself. Neville’s claims of a prophetic dream showing himself as Earl of Warwick were now a “fair castle” which Neville assumed must be the castle of Warwick, and a shield with “sundry arms I could not rehearse”. He did admit to writing “a foolish letter or two according to [Neville’s] foolish desire, to make pastime to laugh at”. No treason, just jokes, please don’t execute me Thomas Cromwell. Jones claimed to take his alchemy seriously, however, and wrote that “To make the philosopher’s stone I will jeopard my life, so to do it,” if the king so wished. He would require twelve months “upon silver” and twelve and a half “upon gold��, and was willing to be imprisoned while he worked. Jones made a similar offer to Cromwell, but there is no evidence either man accepted. Jones was released in exchange for revealing incriminating evidence against another figure of interest. The other magicians caught up in this incident, William Wade and a man known only as ‘Nashe’, had perfected their disappearing act and were not sent to the Tower.

There is a story that Elizabeth I attributed the destruction of the Spanish armada in 1588 to John Dee’s wizardry. Given that, as mentioned, Dee was out of favour with Elizabeth at the time, this is likely untrue.

Elizabeth I’s death was in March of 1603, after she became sick and remained in a “settled and unmovable melancholy”, sitting on a cushion and staring at nothing. The death of a close friend in February of that year came as a particular blow – that of her second cousin and First Lady of the Bedchamber, Catherine Howard.

James I (or James VI, depending on where you’re from)… James I of England was also James VI of Scotland. His mother was Mary Queen of Scots, who was executed by Elizabeth I, and his great-grandmother was Margaret Tudor, Henry VIII’s sister.

“Anna, born Duchess of Jülich, Cleves and Berg.” This was how Anna signed hers’ and Henry’s marriage treaty, known as the ‘Beer Pot Documents’, because someone drew a stein at the bottom.

Bowling, as a game, can trace its origins back to ancient Egypt, and has been quite popular the world over throughout history. Henry VIII was an avid bowler himself (when Hampton Court was remodelled, bowling alleys were included with tennis courts and tiltyards), but banned the sport for the lower classes. The law against workers bowling (unless it was Christmas and in their master’s presence) was repealed in 1845.

We return to the ground, because from it we were taken. Paraphrasing of Genesis 3:19.

The (possible) first appearance of the word ‘alligator’ in the English language is from Romeo and Juliet. The description of The Apothecary’s shop mentions “a tortoise hung, an alligator stuff’d, and other skins of ill-shaped fishes”. Traditionally, medieval apothecaries and astrologers kept skeletons, fossils, and/or taxidermied pieces on display to demonstrate their worldliness.

The anger over calling the alligator ‘William’ could come from Parr, or from Anna. Her brother’s name, Wilhelm, is often anglicised as William.

Midsomer county does not exist and never has. It’s the setting for the long-running mystery TV show Midsomer Murders. Incidentally, Catherine Parr’s native county of Westmorland existed at one point, but no longer does (the area is now in the county of Cumbria). She is not the only English-born queen who this applies to; Jane Seymour’s Wiltshire and Anne Boleyn’s Norfolk still exist (and have since antiquity), but Katherine Howard was most likely born in Lambeth, which would have been in the county of Middlesex at the time. The area is now under the ceremonial county of Greater London.

“Honestly? Margaret Pole’s was worse.” Margaret Pole, Countess of Sailsbury and the last of the House of York, was kept in the Tower of London for two and a half years for her supposed support of Catholicism’s attempts to overthrow the king, before being informed of her death ‘within the hour’ on the 27th of May, 1541. She answered that she did not know the crime of which she was accused (and had carved a poem into the wall of her cell to that effect), but went to the block anyway. It allegedly took eleven blows from the inexperienced axeman to separate her head from her body. There is another story that she tried to run from the executioner and was killed in the attempt, but this is likely a fabrication. Regardless, pretty much everyone thought this was not only a bad idea on Henry’s part (killing Margaret removed any leverage the king had on her rebellious son, Cardinal Reginald Pole), it was also pointlessly cruel and a painfully undignified end.

(She was also Catherine of Aragon’s lady-in-waiting, and governess to Mary at several points.)

That everyone around her, bar a few visitors, would actively benefit from her death… Yet another quote of Elizabeth Tyrwhitt’s testimony: Parr, on her deathbed, claimed she was “not well-handled” by those around her; “for those that be about me careth not for me, but standeth laughing at my grief, and the more good I will to them, the less good they will to me”.

Chapter 12

According to a lady-in-waiting, Anne Boleyn claimed she would rather see Catherine of Aragon hanged “than have to confess that she was her queen and mistress”. This incident is probably the origin of the lyric “somebody hang you!” from Don’t Lose Ur Head.

Catalina uses a few Spanish phrases in this chapter, which don’t get directly translated. The first, No se hizo la miel para la boca del asno, directly translates to ‘Honey is not made for the donkey’s mouth’, and essentially means ‘Good things shouldn’t be wasted on those who won’t appreciate them’. Lavar cerdos con jabón es perder tiempo y jabón is ‘Washing pigs with soap is a waste of time and soap’, and is meant to indicate some things aren’t worth the energy.

…like that dream she has where she is cut up by a servant… An autopsy was done on Catherine of Aragon as part of the embalming process, which revealed the growth on her heart. This was done by the castle chandler (a dealer or trader) as part of his official duties.

Jane Seymour got rid of most of the hallmarks of Anne Boleyn’s tenure during her own queenship. The extravagance and lavish entertainments were banned, along with the French fashions Boleyn had introduced – including French hoods, which Boleyn is wearing in the portrait we have of her. Jane, as mentioned, wore a gable hood in her portraits.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised that people care about what I say.” In the words of nineteenth century proto-feminist Agnes Strickland, Jane “passed eighteen months of regal life without uttering a sentence significant enough to warrant preservation”, which is kind of a mean thing to say. Seymour certainly said things during this time, we know this from reports, but there aren’t any direct quotes from her during her time as queen.

Here’s the painting mentioned, from 1545, during Catherine Parr’s tenure. Jane is on Henry’s left.

It was only after her death that Henry ‘loved’ her, but she is certain that he mourned for only for his own loss. There are reports that, during Jane’s labour, doctors advised Henry he might lose either Jane or Edward. Henry is claimed to have replied, “If you cannot save both, at least let the child live, for other wives are easily found.”

Countdown is a British television game show that revolves around word and number puzzles. It has been going for almost forty years, and is one of the longest-running game shows in the world, with over 7000 episodes.

“I saw a ghost bear kill someone, once.” Anne isn’t making this up. Supposedly, the incident occurred in 1816, when a Yeoman Warder saw a ghostly bear somewhere in the Tower of London. Terrified, he tried to stab it with his bayonet, only for the weapon to go through the image and strike the door behind it. The guard died of shock later on. A similar event happened in 1864, where two guards witnessed “a whitish, female figure” gliding towards one of the soldiers. The soldier in question charged this figure, only to go straight through it, upon which he fainted.

Elizabeth was imprisoned in the Tower of London for a little over two months in 1554, as a result of Wyatt’s Rebellion against Queen Mary. The rebellion was also the likely reason for the execution of Lady Jane Grey – both she and Elizabeth were Protestants in line for the throne, and therefore ‘more suitable’ as ruler. Both Elizabeth and Jane Grey denied any involvement, but the latter’s father and brother (also executed) were direct contributors.

“… you did die, Elizabeth was really upset about it…” Elizabeth took the news of Parr’s death badly. She refused to leave her bed, and was unable to go a mile from her residence, for five months following Parr’s passing.

Not because she liked that bearded potato man, God no… I found this deeply cursed engraving (first produced in 1544) in one of my books on the six wives, and now I want you all to suffer with me.

Anne of Cleves reacted poorly to being told her marriage would be annulled – some accounts say she fainted, others says she cried and screamed. Both could be true. The reasons given were threefold – One, the marriage was unconsummated (From testimony given by two servants, Anne thought a kiss goodnight counted as consummation – likely untrue, but this is the only reason that actually has merit). Two, Anne was precontracted to Francis of Lorraine (Untrue – the betrothal would only take effect if Anne’s father paid the dowry, and he didn’t). Three, Anne was not a virgin as claimed, based on the description of her ‘breasts and belly’, a Tudor way of saying Anne had previously given birth (untrue, and conflicts with the testimony for reason one). The annulment went through without Anne’s involvement, but (probably looking at the examples of her three predecessors) she accepted the ruling and kept herself from being banished, beheaded or otherwise.

(Other fact that has no bearing on reality – while researching Anne of Cleves, one of the pages that came up was The Simpsons Wiki. Apparently she’s the only wife who can claim the honour of having been in two episodes. :/)

Dogs don’t need to answer for their sins, they don’t have any. Katherine Howard was reportedly fond of animals in general, but had a particular soft spot for dogs.

She did the right thing. She told the truth. She died for it. Katherine Howard insisted, to the end, that she had no pre-contract of marriage to Francis Dereham. Would she have survived if she said she did?

[fandomfriend33]

I Wouldn’t Have Nothing If I Didn’t Have You- Chapter 1: Inciting Incident

SUMMARY: Peter meets Gwen Stacy, and she tips the meticulous balance he has between the different sections of his life. Chaos ensues. But the chaos might just be worth it.

WARNINGS: Cursing (idk about this chapter specifically)

RELATIONSHIPS: Eventual Peter Parker x Gwen Stacy

WORD COUNT: 1774

Some housekeeping things:

-The Avengers do not know that Peter is Spider-Man

-Peter's friends (minus Gwen Stacy) DO know he is Spider-Man

-Both of these things are bound to change

Masterlist (I’m just starting, so it isn’t made yet. I also don’t have a taglist yet but let me know if you would like to be on one.)

*:..。o○☆○o。..:*

“Peter Parker.”

“Here,” Peter responded without looking up, his focus almost entirely on the history homework in front of him.

Now, if you asked Peter, he would tell you that it was pointless to have a history class at a science school. But no one had asked for his opinion on the matter. So here he was.

Peter was actually in Mr. Harrington’s science class at the moment, and he would’ve rather been listening to the man boringly rattle off the rest of the names for attendance. However, more homework meant less patrolling.

And less patrolling meant more crime.

And more crime meant more lives at stake.

And if the only way Peter could motivate himself to do History work was to tell himself that lives depended on it? Well, whatever worked.

“Psst… Peter.” Ned poked Peter in the arm, quickly stopping Peter from overanalyzing his homework status.

“Hmm?”

“MJ said she’s bringing the new girl to our lunch table. Apparently they’re friends now or something.”

Peter stared at the paper in front of him, attempting to comprehend both the paper and Ned’s words at once. Needless to say, he didn’t do a very good job of either. 

“What?” Peter finally looked up and made eye contact with his best friend. “New girl?”

Ned waved his hands around in a little gesture to emphasize the words, “Yeah, the girl in our math class.”

“Ned, I wasn’t in math today.”

“Oh yeah!” Ned said a bit too loudly for Peter’s liking. “That car chase on fourth street, right? I saw a video on YouTube. Dude, that flip over the stoplight was so wicked, and then you-“

“Ned!” Peter said through clenched teeth. “I overslept, remember?”

“Oh! Right, overslept,” Ned echoed, adding in a wink for reassurance. 

Peter sighed at his friends' antics before smiling softly. “…the flip looked cool?”

“So cool!”

“Parker, Leeds.” Mr Harrington set down his laser pointer as he called out the pair. “I assume you're having a very exhilarating conversation about the different nitrogen bases found in the nucleotides of DNA, correct?”

There was scattered laughter throughout the room (the loudest very obviously being Flash) as Ned nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yep, absolutely!”

“Really? Which one?”

Ned shared a quick panic filled glance with Peter before responding. “Peter, actually, was the one who brought it up.”

Thanks, Ned.

Peter laughed awkwardly. “Oh yeah, you know, I just think that- that they’re all so cool!” Peter stumbled out as he thought of an answer. “I mean thymine? It’s awesome, right? Totally my favorite.”

There was a moment of silence as the room digested Peter’s answer. He could practically feel his face turning the shade of his Spider-Man mask. 

Eventually, Mr. Harrington raised an eyebrow. “Can a person even have a favorite-“

“I completely agree.”

The entire room, Peter and Ned included, turned their attention to the back of the room where the voice originated.

Peter was surprised to find a girl he didn’t recognize. Her blonde hair was held back by a black headband, matching her black turtleneck perfectly. However, what really stuck out to Peter was the bright green jacket around her shoulders. Compared to the rest of the students in the class wearing various shades of blue, black, and gray, she stuck out quite a bit.

Not in a bad way, he added. More like a rose in a field of dandelions. No, that’s dumb. Roses grow in bushes. Oh, whatever.

“There’s a reason thymine replaces uracil as RNA converts to DNA,” she continued, undeterred by the stares of her classmates. “Thymine is much more resistant to genetic mutations which makes the entire DNA strand stronger in the long run.”

Peter was stunned at her explanation. It actually made a lot of sense, so Peter continued it as if that’s what he had been thinking the whole time.

“Yeah, exactly! Uracil is designed to be more resistant to oxidation which only occurs outside of the nucleus anyway.” Peter turned back towards Mr. Harrington as he talked. “Our cells being able to notice that and make our DNA stronger in more useful ways by using thymine instead is just really cool.”

Mr. Harrington opened his mouth to respond, but appeared to find no words and closed it again.

In the teacher’s momentary lapse, Peter turned his head back to the girl and caught her eye. He mouthed a grateful ‘Thank you.’ She gave Peter a small smirk, prompting Peter to turn back around.

By then, Mr. Harrington seemed to register what had just happened and finally managed to create a response. “Well, uh, very good. Please just- just save the conversation for another time, alright? Ms. Stacy, I would like to speak with you after class. Anyway-“

The poor teacher jumped back into his lesson, allowing Peter and Ned to share relieved glances with each other.

Peter tried to focus on said lesson, or even back on his incomplete history homework, but his mind kept drifting back to the girl and her explanation.

Despite being an advanced level biology class, this was still a fairly basic level of knowledge (at least to Peter’s standard). It wasn’t common for someone to know as much about DNA as Peter. Having literally had his DNA altered by a radioactive spider, could you really blame him for taking an interest in the subject? Of course, physics would always be number one for Peter, but still.

Who was this girl?

As if on cue, like Ned often seems to be, Peter’s question was answered as the boy whispered, “That’s the new girl.”

“What’s her name?”

Ned shrugged in response before turning towards the board once more. 

Peter chewed on the end of his pen as he mulled over the last five minutes of his life, history homework long forgotten. 

-

Gwens POV

“Gwendolyn Stacy,” Mr. Harrington greeted as she approached his desk.

She smiled. “Gwen is alright, Mr. Harrington.”

“Gwen it is.”

“I’d like to apologize for earlier,” Gwen started. “I know I spoke out of turn-“

“Apologies won’t be necessary, Gwen.” Mr. Harrington offered a warm smile. “I actually wanted to offer you an opportunity.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Opportunity?”

“Yeah. Your explanation earlier reached a very high level of intelligence, much higher than we have gotten to at this point in the school year. I was impressed.”

“Oh,” Gwen answered sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“I knew students here liked science, but I never expected them to be thinking about the pros of DNA structures outside of class,” Mr. Harrington explained happily.

Gwen almost laughed at that, but she managed to keep a straight face as she nodded seriously. She didn’t want to crush his happiness on her first day of school. If he wanted to be that optimistic about his students, so be it. “Yep! One of my favorite pastimes.” 

“I know, right?” Mr. Harrington turned around and reached into his desk, pulling out a stack of papers. “Anyway, are you aware of our academic decathlon team?”

Gwen shook her head slowly.

“Long story short, it’s like a science competition, but with every subject. Does that make sense?”

Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Sorta?”

“Awesome! Here’s a packet with more information.” He handed her the papers as he continued. “If you have time, we’re having a little meet after school that you’re free to go to, just to watch.”

“Oh, uh, cool?” Gwen stared at the packet in her hands. Mr. Harrington had somehow managed to give too much information and barely any at all at the exact same time. It was almost impressive.

He stared at her for a moment before speaking again. “You seem confused. Are you confused?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “That was confusing, wasn’t it? Here, follow me.”

Mr. Harrington led her out into the hallway. “Peter! Could you come here for a sec?” He asked loudly over the sea of kids.

A boy about halfway down the hallway turned around with a bewildered look on his face.

Hold on, Gwen thought, That’s Thymine boy!

As the boy, Peter, approached, Gwen couldn’t help but make out some details about him that she hadn’t before. Back in the classroom, she had time to appreciate his slightly wavy hair that curled at the ends. But by the disgruntled way he brushed the hair out of his face a total of three times as he walked the hallway, she could tell he didn’t care for it nearly as much as she did. His shirt said something about atoms, but Gwen couldn’t read it around the blue flannel he wore.

She didn’t really have time to analyze much else, Peter being surprisingly good at slipping through the hallway in minimal time. She’d have to ask how he did that.

Mr. Harrington spoke up before Peter had the chance to. “Gwen, I assume you know Peter. I think Ms. Warren mentioned you were both in her first hour for Math?”

Gwen squinted her eyes as she looked between Peter and the teacher. “Actually, I didn’t-”

“Yep!” Peter responded quickly, cutting her off. “Yeah, this morning.” Peter side eyed her quickly, a visible plea of please don’t rat me out.

For the second time that day, for reasons unknown, Gwen found herself covering for Peter. “This morning,” she repeated slowly.

Mr. Harrington looked between the two of them, somewhat aware that he had missed something, but he didn’t go into it. “I was just mentioning to Gwen that she should check out our Academic Decathlon team. We have an open spot, with Liz moving and all.”

Had Gwen not already been watching Peter with suspicion, she might’ve missed the small wince he gave at Mr. Harrington’s words, one that was easily covered up with a smile. Every moment she spent staring at Peter added another level of mystery to whoever he was.

She pulled her eyes away from Peter and back towards Mr. Harrington, who was still talking obliviously. “Would you mind explaining it to her a bit more at lunch or something? I wouldn’t want to make you two late for your next classes. I’m sure the information would also be more useful coming from another student.”

Peter nodded before responding. “I- yeah, uh, I can do that. No problem.”

The teacher clapped his hands together once and smiled brightly. “Perfect! Now go be smart elsewhere. I’ll hopefully see you both after school.” And with that, Mr. Harrington strode back into his classroom, leaving both Peter and Gwen in awkward silence. At least it felt that way, despite the other groups of students chattering just a few feet away.

This would be a fun conversation.

[abbzworld]

Warmth

The Doctor and the Master are forced to share a bed to keep warm in a cold dungeon. No smut, just fluff.

Also found on:

AO3 | FF.net

Here’s some Third Doctor/Delgado Master fluff for you, which is also my first story involving these two. :)

And as you hopefully read in the summary, if you’re looking for smut, this isn’t the place! This is JUST them sharing a bed and being fluffy.

Well anyways, let’s get on with the story.

“Well then, isn’t this just perfect...”  The Doctor growled to himself.

Not only was he now stuck inside a dungeon cell deep in the Himalayan mountain region after a rescue mission gone wrong, but no one knew he was down here, he was going to be executed tomorrow morning and the worst thing was the fact that he was sharing this cell with-

“I’m not sure what you’re complaining about, Doctor. It’s your own fault for getting us into this mess!”

The Doctor sighed before turning to face the Master, who was standing in the corner.

“Excuse me, but whose idea was it to get the Frillion’s involved on this UNIT rescue mission? It certainly wasn’t mine!”

“Maybe so, but I seem to recall that it was your idea to blatantly disobey one of their strictest laws.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know they disliked vegetables?!”

The Master gave him a deadpan look with the tiniest of smirks. “You honestly didn’t know that they’re one of the biggest carnivorous alien species in the galaxy? Even I knew that!”

The Doctor glared at him in response. “But they’re honestly going to execute me just because I was eating some celery?! That’s ridiculous! I was hungry!”

The Master chuckled. “It wasn’t just that, Doctor. You also kissed the governor’s wife-”

“I thought she was his daughter! And besides, it wasn’t even on the lips!”

“-you destroyed their ship-”

“It had weapons on it and they were pointed at us!”

“-and to top it all off, you decided to be a show off and engage their most honored warrior in a fight. And you beat him in a very humiliating way.”

At this, the Doctor smiled. “Well, I may not look like a spring chicken but I can fight just as well as the rest of them!”

The Master only smirked. “You did it using a spoon.”

The Doctor shrugged in response. “What can I say? I have a creative mind.”

The Master chuckled. “Meanwhile, all I did was deceive them into attacking Earth. Something which, I must add, they’ve been planning for a while.”

The Doctor went back to glaring at him. “This is incredibly unfair!”

The Master shook his head. “Not really.”

The Doctor sighed and rubbed his forehead. “So how on Earth are we supposed to get out?”

The Master shrugged. “Not sure. But if I were you, I’d get started now. After all, I’m not the one that’s going to be executed tomorrow.”

He chuckled as the Doctor glared at him before he sighed and looking around their cell. So far as he could tell, there wasn’t a way out as there was only one high up window, there wasn’t anything he could use to open the cell door and there didn’t appear to be any weaknesses or cracks in the wall.

“What’s the matter, Doctor?” The Master taunted him. “Can’t figure it out for once?”

“Oh, do shut up!” The Doctor snapped, moving to a wall. “I need to concentrate!”

The Master just shrugged, still smiling, before he sat down.

Several hours later

Day had turned into night and the Doctor hadn’t quite figured out how to escape from the cell. He did have a plan, but it was a rather vague and tricky one.

However, the Doctor knew that he’d have to wait until morning before he could attempt anything as it was too dark right now.

It was getting colder, too.

The Doctor and even the Master were shivering as the temperature inside the cell dropped considerably as their breath formed clouds in the chilly air.

“My word, it’s cold...” The Doctor mumbled.

“Well, considering the fact that it’s nighttime now, we’re in one of the coldest mountain regions on this planet and we’re in a prison cell, that’s not surprising.” The Master commented, smiling even as he rubbed his arms to try to keep warm.

The Doctor only sighed, deciding not to bother gracing him with a response.

Eventually, fatigue began catching up to them. With all the excitement that had happened that day and how long they’d managed to stay awake for, it was no surprise that they were getting tired now.

The Doctor had tried his best to stay awake but he couldn’t ignore it much longer. So he yawned and shuffled over to the bed.

As he sat down, he couldn’t help but notice how the Master was beginning to shiver. The Doctor frowned, knowing it was too cold for him to sleep without a blanket. And the only blanket in the cell was on the bed. It was small and thin but it was still better than nothing.

However, he also knew that the Master was too stubborn and prideful to admit that he was cold, so he lay down on the hard mattress and tried to get comfortable. This proved to be a rather difficult task seeing as how the pillow was also hard.

As he lay there, cold and uncomfortable, he tried to ignore his nagging conscious that was scolding him for not helping the Master. He tried to reason with himself that he wouldn’t want to be kept warm even in these cold temperatures and besides, the Master deserved to be cold.

However, this only made his conscious worse.

Let it never be known that the Doctor isn’t compassionate; even towards his worst enemies.

After ten minutes of this inner turmoil, he finally sighed and looked up; seeing that the Master was still shivering, leaned up against the wall.

“Master?” He called out.

“Hm?”

He paused, before swallowing and saying, “I think we should share a bed.”

The Master stared incredulously at him. “What?!”

“I don’t mean in a crude way. But it’s obviously too cold for the both of us so I just feel that if we-”

“No.”

The Doctor frowned. “I didn’t even-”

“No.” The Master firmly interrupted him. “I would much rather freeze to death than have to huddle together with you just to keep warm.”

The Doctor glared at him before sighing and lying down again.

Oh well. He had tried and it was a stupid idea anyway.

“Suit yourself.”

But it was probably about an hour later that the Doctor - after somehow being able to drift off - woke up, both out of the cold and because he couldn’t help but hear how cold the Master was, as well.

The Master appeared to be in a fetal position, shivering so badly that his teeth were chattering.

The Doctor sighed and got up. Even though the Master was probably his worst enemy at this point in time, both his hearts still held compassion for him. Thus, he felt that he had to do something about how cold they both were; the Master’s stubbornness be damned.

“Master?”

No response.

“Master.”

“Ugh... W-What do you w-want, Doctor?”

The Doctor just stared him down. “Look, it’s obvious that the both of us are too cold to get a proper night’s sleep, and if we’re going to survive tomorrow, we need to be well rested! So would you just swallow your damn pride already and let me keep you warm?!”

“......No...”

“Master...”

“No! I... I don’t need your h-help!”

“I beg to differ.”

The Master still refused to move, avoiding eye contact with the Doctor.

“Look.” The Doctor finally growled, fed up with the Master’s stubborn pride. “I will go over there and drag you over here if you don’t smarten up!”

The Master glared at him in response.

To make his point clear, the Doctor then got up and marched over to where the Master was.

“Don’t touch me!” He snapped when the Doctor reached down.

“Fine then.” He replied before sitting down beside the Master. “But I still don’t intend to allow either of us to freeze to death in here!”

“You stubborn old goat...” The Master muttered.

“It takes one to know one.” The Doctor countered.

They both sat there in silence after that, with the Master continuing to silently shudder as the Doctor struggled to think of a way to get through to him.

At first, nothing came to mind and the Doctor could feel the fatigue and the chilly temperature beginning to get to him again.

And then he was suddenly reminded of a similar situation from his childhood, he smiled wistfully and began to speak.

“Y’know, this situation rather reminds me of a time back on Gallifrey when we lived at the academy.”

The Master said nothing as the Doctor continued.

“I can remember one particularly harsh winter when the temperature in our shared dorm was cold; too cold for either of us to be able to sleep or concentrate on our work.”

The Master sighed, still silent. And so the Doctor kept talking.

“And I can recall that it was your brilliant idea to...” The Doctor suddenly chuckled, fondly remembering what had happened. “To start a fire using some candles to raise the temperature so we might be more comfortable.”

“However, it naturally went wrong and we almost got caught when the curtains suddenly went aflame. And I can recall...” The Doctor sputtered out a laugh. “I can recall... you... you panicking when it first happened and started running around the room.” He stammered as he continued to laugh, fond childhood nostalgia taking over his thoughts as the Master was looking at him now.

“Thankfully, we were able to put it out but the curtains were still damaged. And so we... we had to sneak out and find replacements even though it was past curfew.”

The Doctor smiled, remembering the events as if they’d happened only yesterday.

“And yet somehow, even with how awful we were at sneaking around, the teachers patrolling the hallways and how close we came to getting caught several times, we were able to find replacements and sneak back to our room without anyone finding us.”

“And even all these years later, no one knows what happened except for us.”

He sighed. “But it was still too cold so we had to share a bed in order to keep warm.”

He then turned to look at the Master. “Rather reminds you of something, doesn’t it?”

Silence fell between them for a few minutes as they both sat there, still tired and cold before the Master suddenly chuckled.

“You know Doctor; I seem to recall you doing nothing to stop me from starting the fire that set the curtains ablaze.”

The Doctor furrowed his brow as the Master continued. “Yes, it was my idea but the only protest you uttered was ‘are you sure that’s a good idea’.”

The Doctor nodded, chuckling as he remembered. “Yes, that’s right. Just goes to show how cold it was.”

Silence once again descended between them though instead of being tense or awkward, it was surprisingly... comfortable.

The Doctor eventually sighed. “Do you ever wish that things could just go back to the way they once were? You know, before we became renegades and ran away from Gallifrey?”

At first, the Master was quiet and the Doctor couldn’t tell if he was contemplating his words or just being stubborn again. However, he eventually spoke.

“I’m perfectly content with my life the way it is.”

The Doctor frowned. “That wasn’t my question.”

He once again fell silent for a few minutes before he eventually, in a very soft voice, spoke again.

“Yes...”

The Doctor was content with his answer and so he didn’t say anything else, just nodding.

Surprisingly, the Master continued.

“I mean, things were so much simpler in those days. We weren’t running from anyone or anything, just...” He sighed. “Just to each other.”

Then, with an almost pained expression on his face, the Master looked at the Doctor.

“What happened?”

The Doctor swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as he fought to think of a response.

“I’m not sure...” He finally told him. “Life, our different ambitions or our families... Any one of those factors could’ve been the cause for our falling out.”

The Master sighed, obviously dissatisfied with his answer but he didn’t say anything else.

And so the Doctor spoke again.

“I really miss you sometimes, you know? Like, whenever I get a new companion or assistant or whatever, I know I’ll inevitably lose them... It breaks my hearts but as a result, I sometimes wonder what it would be like to take on someone who’s my equal in basically every sense; physically, emotionally and intellectually.”

“And, despite how foolish I know this line of thinking is, I sometimes wish that you... you had joined me instead of going on your own.

“...Really?”

The Doctor nodded before silence fell again.

After a while, the Master spoke again. “Doctor...”

“Hm?”

“If... If I were to share a bed with you...” He paused before continuing. “There are some stipulations first.”

The Doctor nodded, trying not to appear too proud or hopeful that their shared childhood memories might’ve gotten through to the Master.

“First, nothing crude happens!”

“Of course.”

“And secondly, nothing about what happened in this cell - what with the words we spoke and the things we’ll do - is to be told to anyone else!”

“Agreed. We’ll keep it a secret between ourselves. It’s not like it’ll be the first or only one so far.”

The Master smiled a little at that before they both got up and shuffled over to the bed.

The Doctor laid down first, getting somewhat comfortable and then watching as the Master - after briefly hesitating - laid down beside him, his back to him.

The blanket still wasn’t very big, but it was able to cover the both of them. The Doctor could feel how tense the Master was; as it had been centuries since they’d shared a bed, and so, without really thinking, he wrapped an arm around the Master’s waist; pulling him close.

He sighed in response to this, obviously uncomfortable, but he didn’t voice any complaints.

“Shh... Just go to sleep.” The Doctor murmured near his ear.

The Master could only listen to him, slowly closing his eyes.

The Doctor could feel that the tension in his body was fading away and soon, he could hear the Master’s gentle breathing as he slept.

The Doctor then smiled, feeling very pleased with himself for actually winning a battle of wits against the Master. However, his fatigue was again catching up to him and so closed his eyes.

Oddly enough, he felt almost like the Master’s presence, despite the fact that they’re bitter enemies and would most likely continue to be so even after this strange night, was actually helping him to fall asleep so quickly and easily.

And as he listened to the Master’s rhythmic breathing, his naturally cooler body temperature nonetheless warm and welcome in the cold cell, he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning came and all too quickly, the Doctor and Master were enemies again.

The entire mess was eventually sorted out, with the well-timed appearance of UNIT recruits - including Jo Grant and the Brigadier - and the Doctor’s fast wits and reflexes. He was able to get away from his execution at the last minute and then regroup with his friends and allies and help save the Earth yet again.

Unfortunately, the Master escaped too, having given the Frillion’s the slip. UNIT knew that they couldn’t waste time and resources searching for him in such extreme conditions and so they returned to the UK, hoping that he’d show up again soon.

And true to his word, the Doctor never told anyone about what had happened between him and the Master in the cell. Sometimes, he’d think about it a little too hard and someone, usually Jo (who was getting almost annoyingly perceptive), would ask him what was wrong.

His response was usually, “Nothing to worry about. I was just thinking of different ways to upgrade Bessie.”

He never let anyone find out the truth. It wouldn’t do to have any crude or inappropriate rumors circulating UNIT HQ, after all.

AN-I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did, I’d love it if you left a review! Go ahead and tell me what I did right and what I could improve on. I’d love the feedback! :)

[babiewonho]

can u write an essay on kihyun now please don't just saw beat root thanks QUEEN uwu

kihyun’s personality is so funny and contradictory to me lmao like he has such a big personality and um wow i just got distracted bc i put on drew barrymore by sza and it was playing at half speed bc i just played the COME GET YALL JUICE vine at half speed but anyways

first and foremost i think kihyun is very Capable like kihyun is like. so good at being an adult like he just knows how to do everything it’s so weird it’s like he was born just Knowin. like he’s just so confident and he’s good at speaking most of the time and like he said he would go to vocal lessons while working two jobs that weren’t even close to each other like he’d have to take the train and he’s so determined even going to school like he’s been doing while promoting as an idol like he just has a really type a personality and he wants to be good at everything and he has the drive to achieve that as much as any human can it’s very respectable and imo a very attractive quality like i feel like if i asked him how to do anything he’d know for some reason

he’s very charming and he knows it and sometimes it’s greasy LMAO like when they had to do the pick up lines in that video and mx were dying in the bg but it’s very effective i think that’s really good for networking etc and he’s so friendly to other ppl he acts like he already knows them but he isn’t like…overstepping boundaries which is imo the way to become friends with someone wh said one time that to get close with ppl you just have to act close i think and that’s what kihyun does he seems very sociable and friendly and easy to talk to like he makes an effort to keep the conversation going and get on the speaker’s level/help them understand the topic 

tying in with him being rly capable he’s so good at cleaning n cooking like why is he so damn responsible lmao share some of those skills w/ me…wtf…but like wow that’s rly a whole adult i bet he even does his taxes on time but he takes his work so seriously and like he’s not even a dancer but he puts so much focus n energy into dance and it shows he’s so impressive…i…i hate it

so! i think what makes ppl misunderstand kihyun is he has this weird like…sharp outside/soft inside thing going on…coughs tsundere   but by that i mean  he’s not Genuinely mean   but he plays along well with others esp 93 line they have a very cozy n roasty dynamic going on and he’s quick to tease others in a friendly way unfortunately ppl take that as ONE personality archetype the “savage” just like shakespeare invented and that ONE personality trait supercedes ALL OTHERS n suddenly kihyun hates everyone like false…hello he’s just bein a scorpio (he’s born n like the First day of saggitarius but he himself has said he’s a scorpio n the time he was born rly indicates that so im just going with scorpio these   are the Facts) he ALSO…isn’t very comfortable with “mushy” stuff he’s fine giving compliments but when they get into genuine emotional things it’s not that he gets weirded out  it’s more like   it’s okay until He has to get mushy abt his own feelings at least from what i noticed

i was actually surprised bc kihyun is somewhat easily embarrassed and i didn’t expect him to be so nurturing on an emotional level like hugging changkyun when he cried, he sympathy cries w/ wonho lmao, comforting wonho when he cried during that one v live. i thought he’d be more of a supportive but awkward type in that situation but he actually empathizes really well. that’s why i think kihyun’s personality is so like  contrary there’s all these traits that seem to be the opposite of each other but melt together just fine in his personality

but he actually has a very nourishing presence he just seems to have like a different rule for himself and he doesn’t like to get all deep or w/e that’s so scorpio of him…it embarrasses him lol he doesn’t like emotional vulnerability if he thinks it opens him up in a negative way but here he goes again with the contradictions- he’s emotionally open with children and pets. he’s amazing with children and animals n feels a lot of love n affection towards them as well as the members but honestly i’ve practically raised my little brother from infancy to like four years old and i have very high standards for child care but kihyun takes such pride in his work as always n he luvs the Babies so he is very mm meticulous abt it. i got stressed when the kid’s heads weren’t supports while getting sleepy in their chairs n then the moment i got stressed kihyun’s hand wld fly out to support their heads and he held them and esp the sick babie :(( even when he cried kihyun didn’t get panicked as many ppl too and hand him off to one of the more experienced ladies he comforted the babie n held it n also

during mxray season 2 when they met the kids again he got all worried abt i cant remember which kid it was…jongwon! i think he was worried shownu wld hurt him by accident in the bounce house thingie lmao which i was worried abt too so he was like be gentler and my heart…she soared he rly cares abt them :(( in a very genuine way n also! at the batting cages v live there were kitties and he, wonho, and ck were worried abt them getting hurt. he’s just a very caring n loving person and he does engage in a lot of skinship like they said on the psychology analysis part of mxray but i think rather than physical affection he shows love through actions like waking the members up and finding stuff for wonho etc ordering the other members around n leading them in the right direction he definitely has a BIG leadership quality n a desire to be in control but he doesn’t let himself like usurp shownu’s position lmao he just relishes the times when he gets power

i always say it’s more like shownu, minhyuk, and kihyun are three coleaders and i think they all compliment each other extremely well and kihyun is a rly good mc esp in things like mon happy radio he and minhyuk are rly entertaining and work together really well which is rly cool

he rly rly loves the members in a very fond way they make him smile a lot and what i think is so funny is i think kihyun originally has more of a tendency in situations like that there’s something historically in comedy called a “straight man” (i know) where someone else acts like an idiot and this person basically doesnt find it amusing n acts serious or upset kasjfsf and i thought kihyun wld be like that but i think mx just has such a goofy energy and kihyun often engages in the goofiness but that seems to me like something that probably changed when he met the boys i can’t seem him being like that arnd other ppl but i think he’s very fond of their dynamic and embraces it now like he laughs in this Specific way when the members all get Ridiculous like he’s in fond disbelief like when they kept singing the UFC song!!! in no exit like he’s lovingly saying “these idiots” in his head it’s really cute tbh he’s just very often Fondly Exasperated like when mh ate the whipped cream at the end of that one vid/when ck ate food of the plates from other ppl in mxray you can just tell he has so much love for his members 

as for his relationship with 93 line that’s just pure love n friendship to the point of comfortably making fun of each other n i really hate when ppl act like it’s genuine hatred bc you can’t make jokes like that with people if you genuinely dislike them they’re just all three very comfortable with and fond of each others and build off each other very well comedically and the teams switch up as to who is making fun of who and like?? if they rly hated each other things like mon happy radio with mh and kh and the times when mh was absent and hw was the replacement would be possible. they get along fine for that and it’s like an HOUR long of just them together and they make jokes and they compliment each other like anyone with more than 2 brain cells knows they don’t actually hate each other but :) had 2 say that

CAPABILITY ASIDE kihyun has these moments of hilarious like…airheadedness   as demonstrated in aleena’s amazing gifset of kihyun being dumb. he’s so smart but he just lapses on the most ridiculous things aksjfasf it’s so funny  kihyun, staring at a seatbelt: does this go around my neck   is this the Neck Belt  Oh..  just youthful naivete which the other members bring up sometimes n his face when they got their first win :(( cld it be…kihyun is a soft babie!! it Cld !! :D

also vocal wise i’m not a Professional or anything but he’s rly one of the best vocals in kpop like breath support and not singing with strained notes and vocal agility he’s just so good he and shownu are actually different imo than a lot of kpop vocals who just sing n half of it’s like  rhythmic yelling lmao like he and shownu can both sing BALLADS well and with CONTROL they’re so incredible and kihyun has a pretty wide range imo it’s very healthy singing with lots of support 

anyways i wrote WAY more than i thought i was gonna be able to abt him there’s deadass like 1.7k words right here lmao like yall readin this? eyes emoji anyways i hope this makes some sense it’s 4 am…anyways i think kihyun’s personality is fascinating and i feel like i have quite a few personality traits in common with him but also i wanna arm wrestle him so damn bad im not even reading back through this and checking it’s too much LMAO

[shewhowantsmouseears]

The Last Straw, 4

Notes: As always, big thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and Blueshifted, who take time from their busy lives to help with my hobby.

Not much to say here! I know this story is pretty rushed and not as good as my previous works, but this was more of a self-imposed challenge than something I put my heart and soul into. We'll be back on track on the next big story. For now, the end is getting close!

Summary: With another golden deadline approaching, Minnie finally learns the truth about her missing memories. But can she remember a way to put an end to the king's tyranny?

Donald slowly put his hand on the doorknob, intending to close it, but he had half a mind to pick up his sister and see how far he could run away with her before the guards would capture them. As he mentally calculated the distance a success would require, Minnie spoke shakily, trying to politely curtsy. “Your Highness, it is an... honor... to see you again so soon.”

“Of course it is!” Mortimer sat down on one of the short stacks of hay, crossing one leg across his lap. “You didn't think I'd abandon my favorite pair of siblings, did you? Especially not because of one or two little slips of the tongue.”

Donald glanced at Pete, who merely nodded and waved once to show that, yes, Pete had not only heard what happened but as obligated by duty, had told the king. As much as the duck wanted to be mad at him, he knew if Mortimer found out another way, Pete would have suffered for it. With a huff, he stepped in front of his sister, ready to shield her. “Look, what happened in the village was my doing! Minnie was the one who put a stop to it! Stop going after her just because I'm the one who keeps screwing up!”

Minnie tugged on Donald's arm in a futile effort to stop him, and Mortimer let out a little laugh. “I'm willing to let bygones be bygones! I don't know where you get this impression that I'm a cold-hearted tyrant. Why, I'm just like my old man, and everyone loved my old man. Now there was a good member of the family...I gotta admit, I feel sorry for your sister, being burdened with such a loud-mouthed brother.” His eyes burned into Minnie's, daring her to object, daring her to shout, daring for her to give him a reason to punish her. “Why, if I was in your pretty shoes, I'd ditch him the first chance I got and forget I ever had a brother in the first place.” He smiled, clapping his hands together, waiting for the outburst.

And oh, she did want to object, she did want to shout, but she wasn't as naive a girl as Mortimer expected. She sucked in a big gulp of air, keeping her back straight. “But you're not me, Your Highness, and I'm not you. So you can see things I can't, and in the exact same way, I see things you can't. It's all a matter of perspective. And I don't think someone as important as yourself could spare the time to see how wonderfully kind my brother is.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see Donald trying to smile, but given the daunting task once again before them it couldn't stay. “What with you being so busy in the castle, you'd never see how he helps not only all the animals of the kingdom, but all the people as well, because he never turns down a cry for help. If someone needs him, he will always be there. And I truly hope someday that, if fortune should ever disfavor you, and you also need his hand, he will be there to lend it.”

Mortimer's smirk melted into a scowl, his fingers tapping along his leg. What a clever little busybody. Nothing she said could really be marked as offensive, although it made him want to gag. Sibling love – what a crock! In the end, all you ever truly cared about was yourself, and Mortimer found an itching drive to prove it. But that wasn't what he came here for, so he steeled himself. “I'm sure that day won't be for a long, long, long while. So let's focus on the day that's here!” He patted the straw underneath him. “I know neither of you are as stupid as you look, so you must know why I brought all this over. This should be no trouble at all for the master seamstress!”

Donald crossed his arms, glaring hotly. “How could you have used up all the gold we already gave you? It hasn't even been an entire day! You only got it this morning! You should be set for life!”

Mortimer clicked his tongue to his large front teeth. “You never do see the big picture, do you, Donny-boy? Why settle for a measly couple of gold bars, when I can have a whole house full of gold! I can be set for sixteen lifetimes! With this much gold, I could cover every single thing in the castle with gold!” The idea was enough to make him drool. “Gold bedrooms, gold libraries, gold silverware, gold toilets!”

As Minnie fought off that disturbing mental image, she spoke up again, struggling to once more find a positive outlook on a dark situation. “And if you had that much gold, you wouldn't need to tax the people so harshly anymore! Things could start going back to the way they used to, and no one would have to choose between their food and their health again!”

The King stared at Minnie as if she'd started talking about a completely random topic. “What does that have to do with anything? Why on earth would I stop taxing my people?”

She balked. “Because...because you wouldn't need the money anymore?”

“I need whatever I tell you I need!” Mortimer began to stand up, towering tall above the siblings. “Everything in this kingdom belongs to me, and if I want it, then I will get it! If I want everyone's money, then I'll get everyone's money! If I want you to turn all of this straw into gold, then that's what's going to happen! If I want you to adore me, then you're all going to adore me, way more than you ever adored my father!”

“You are nothing like your father, and everyone is suffering for it!” Donald stopped after he said it, but then he decided, what the hey, he was already doomed anyway. What was a few more inches going to matter in his grave? Minnie was shouting his name, but Donald kept going. “You can take our money, you can take away our lives, but I swear to you right here and now, no one is ever going to adore you! And if you had a single working brain cell working in that head of yours, you'd realize why!” In an instant he had a fistful of Mortimer's cravat and yanked him down until they were eye-level, causing Minnie to gasp, backing up until her back hit the door, and Pete to reach out yet do nothing. “I don't love Minnie because she's related to me. Blood and titles don't automatically mean people have to love and respect you! It's actions that make you earn both! She's a good, kind, sweet girl that cares about everyone around her, and she always gives me a second chance after I screw up! And that's why I love her! But you... you're just a spoiled brat, throwing a temper tantrum whenever things don't go your way! You're not a king, you're a baby with a crown!”

For the first time in Donald's life, he saw Mortimer lose the cocky, evil look in his eyes – it was replaced with fear. Pete had yet to protect him, the guards were outside, and Donald was in control here. Donald's heart raced as he realized he had an opportunity – except he didn't know what the opportunity was for. If he well and truly socked the King, which he badly wanted to do, what would follow next? Minnie's logic was still true, there was no one to take Mortimer's place. Yet how could he pass this rare chance by? Maybe one good punch would make the lesson sink in harder. Donald's free hand balled up.

“And maybe your 'old man' wasn't so fantastic either, if he could raise such an awful prince! The last good thing he ever did was realize his mistake and give the throne to-”

Then came the headache, slamming so hard into Donald's brain that he cried out in pain, unable to remember the last thing he'd been about to make. Even stranger, he wasn't the only one instantly afflicted. Minnie, Mortimer, and Pete all felt a similar dagger thrust into their minds, powerful enough to send them to their knees and drench them in sweat. Donald was forced to release Mortimer, the nerves in his forehead pulsating with torment, robbing him of the strength in his hands. Mortimer stumbled to the floor, and Pete had to lean on a stack of hay to catch his breath. Minnie managed to recover first, or at least swim through the pain enough to try and hold her brother up. “Donald!” He couldn't reply.

Mortimer shakily stood up, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. He didn't know if that was divine intervention or his luck was turning around, but he wasn't going to waste a second longer trying to figure it out. “It's...it's the same deal as before! Either this is all gold when I return, or your lives will continue in the dungeon...” A harsh snarl towards Minnie. “Or in my arms!”

“W-wait a minute!” Of all people, it was Pete who was now speaking up, trying to reach a hand towards the King. “Didn't you just see what happened?! What was that? What's going on?”

“Who cares?! We're going!” Mortimer kicked over a bale of straw. Minnie managed to pull her brother away from the door.

“But that wasn't a coincidence!” Pete pleaded, trying to follow Mortimer without tripping over any straw. “I've been getting headaches a lot lately, but if everyone's getting them, that can't be anything good! W-what if it's some kinda disease? What if we're all sick? We gotta get a doctor!”

“I'm sick of your yammering!” Mortimer grabbed Pete by his fleshy cheek, squeezing tightly. “If I say we're going, we're going! Unless you'd like to stay and share their fate!” He pulled Pete in close, snarling so rabidly that spare spittle was being sprinkled on Pete's face. “So there's your choice, fatso! Stay, or go?”

Pete was surprised to find himself hesitating. Staying with Mortimer meant he could keep his job and – what else was there? No respect or dignity, that was for sure, and now no health? Would life in the dungeon be that much worse? His eyes fled to Minnie and Donald. Donald was still recovering, a hand to his head, but Minnie was watching Pete with sad pity. That hurt worst of all - surely she knew about Pete's bullying towards Donald, but she felt sorry for him? He felt a desperate, useless need to restore some pride. “I-I'm going, sir...You wouldn't catch me dead with these...losers.” He couldn't even come up with a decent insult anymore.

Mortimer let go of Pete's cheek and gave it a pat. “The first smart decision you've ever made.” He opened the door, casting one final look upon the duo.

Minnie eyes slowly slid over to Mortimer. Much to his frustration, those gorgeous eyes didn't have any terror to them like they did before. This was defiance – defiance like that one time - “I don't think you even know what love is,” she spoke softly, jarring him out of his thoughts.

Mortimer froze, his jaw set. Words wouldn't come to him, and he finally stormed off, slamming the door into Pete's face. Pete bounced back, rubbing his sore nose before opening the door a second time. All he could offer was a glum, “Does anybody?” before joining his master.

No, Minnie wasn't afraid. Worried, yes, but fear wasn't going to take over tonight. Though her memories of the mysterious magician were vanishing with each coming hour, she knew he vowed to return should she ever need his help again. The worry was over her brother – he still wasn't recovering from the headache, even though everyone else had gotten over it. She shook his shoulder. “Donald?”

“S-something's... wrong...” Donald choked out before falling forward, his hands almost missing the floor. The headache hadn't left, and now it was taking over his body, his eyelids twitching and his chest heaving.

“Donald!” Minnie cried again, trying to hold her brother up. “The doctor, we've got to get the doctor!”

“Guards... won't...” Donald managed to breathe out, but even with his small words, Minnie knew what he meant – the guardsmen wouldn't let the two out of the house, just as the night before. He tried to say something else, but his head lobbed forward, and Minnie felt tears in her eyes. Maybe if she begged hard enough, the magic man would cure him – oh, now she felt fear, now it came as Pete's words returned to her. Yes, this wasn't natural, there was something dreadfully wrong with their bodies and they didn't know what to do.

But fear wasn't going to get anything done. Minnie drew deep, long breaths, using all the strength in her tiny body to help Donald to his room and lay on his bed – with all the straw clogging up the house, this task was made twice as difficult, and by the time Donald was laying down, Minnie was completely worn out. Her own bedroom was blocked off by straw entirely, so she couldn't give him her blanket and instead made due by covering him with his own jacket. She tried to wipe off his sweat, but every time she thought she'd gotten it all, his body would wrack with pain again and he'd be slick with sweat. Minnie could no longer fight her tears, seeing her brother suffer and being unable to help.

She managed to pull herself away from his bedroom, and stood near the front door, where there was at least enough room to pace and fret. “Please...” she spoke to the open air. “Please come back! We need your help! I'll do anything, just, please, don't let me lose my brother!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, pleading for the hero to appear, hot tears flooding down her face. “Why are things turning out this way?! Isn't there anything I can do?! Isn't there...” Her voice broke, and she cried into her hands. “Isn't there anything I can do...?”

Minnie would have sobbed deep into the night, had not a warm hand touched her cheek, a thumb brushing away her tears. Startled, she looked up, and there stood the magician, his blue eyes sad and heartbroken. She didn't know how he got in and didn't care. She threw herself into his arms, crying into his chest, and his gentle embrace held her with all the love in the world. It hurt to see him, and at the same time it was the sweetest relief. “M-My brother...” She gasped for air. “You... you have to help him!”

“I'm sorry,” he spoke with great unwillingness, “But...I can't. There's nothing I can do for him.”

Minnie pulled back, her face covered in shock. “What?! But...please, you have to!” She grabbed his arms and tried to shake him. “Use your magic! You said I have to pay you a kindness...I'll pay you a thousand kindnesses! Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it!”

The magician cupped her cheeks. “I also said that magic isn't the solution to everything...” He then frowned, looking away for a moment. “At least, I think that's what I said. It's getting harder to...” He shook his head, getting back to the scene. “There are some things I can't do. But I promise you, this is not the end of things. There are things you can do, I promise.” He drew back enough to look at all the straw in the house, nodding once affirmatively. “And I can help you here like I did before. I can turn this all into gold...for a kindness.”

“...For a kindness,” Minnie mumbled, rubbing her face with her sleeves in an effort to wipe away her tears. “W-what can I do? We still have some bread and milk...”

The magician hesitated for one moment, but not because he was forgetting something or he was reluctant to do what was necessary. Minnie's brother was suffering immensely, she'd just been told there was nothing that could be done, and yet she was still willing to offer up perhaps the only food she had left. She was barely keeping it together, with wet eyes and a shaking body – yet, indeed, she was keeping it together. She was a wondrous being, to be sure, and in that instant the magician had to wonder if he was ever worthy of her at all – if anyone was. He shook his head, and then help up a hand. “No, that's all right. I will spin this straw into gold, if you do me a kindness...and listen to my story.”

Minnie blinked, blinked again, blinked harder and nothing changed. “Listen? That's all? But that's so easy!”

The magician smiled wryly. “You'd be surprised. Some people need their whole lives to learn how to listen. But that's all I'm asking...hear my story out from start to finish, and I will return the favor with your fate.”

“I...” Minnie wasn't sure how well she could pay attention when her brother's pain was still on her mind, but on the other hand, if the magician was going to help them out in such a big way, listening to a simple story was truly the least she could do. She nodded slowly, moving to sit on a stack of straw. “I'll listen. I'll listen to every single word.”

“I know you will.” The magician smiled. “Folks with ears as big as ours, it's one of our best talents.” Despite Minnie's misfortune, the wisecrack made her lips twitch for a quick smile, as he knew it would. “All right, for this story, we're going to need a bit more than our imagination. And another thing... this story doesn't have an ending, not yet. I guess you could say it's a work in progress.” He twirled the staff in his hand, and it glowed with a soft golden haze – little pricks of discarded straw on the floor began to stand up to attention. “It will have some happy parts, and some sad parts, but whether it's a happy story or a sad story...guess that'll depending on the ending, whenever that comes.”

Another twirl of his staff, and the magician suddenly slammed it into the floor. The straw began to fly around, meeting each other and twisting around each other, combining until they were small puppets without strings. Yet the shadows they cast on the wall didn't match their shapes, and Minnie felt her eyelids go heavy. She wasn't sleepy, not exactly, she was suddenly able to see things beyond the shadows, and the magician's voice lost its country twang, becoming somber and cool, and then she was lost in the stars...

“Once upon a time...”

~*~

Once upon a time, there was a happy, beautiful kingdom. It was prosperous and peaceful, with the villagers and the royalty working hand-in-hand so that everyone knew contentment. The King ruled wisely, and he was loved for his sensible actions, his understanding of the common man, and he loved them in return. He also loved his sweet Queen, who was like a mother to everyone she met, bestowing care and concern upon every soul she touched. Theirs could have been a rule that would have made for decades of joy.

But when the Queen gave birth to her first son, she was told that while her heart was great, her body was weak. If she ever had another child, she would not live to see it grow up. For a few years, they had nothing to fear. They raised their first son with care and discipline, knowing someday he would take the throne, so their people would need a fair leader. However, the Queen soon found herself carrying another child. Despite pleas from her husband, the Queen decided that she would give her own life in order for the child to live. Thus the second son was born, and the Queen passed away, leaving the kingdom in great mourning.

Now that the King was alone, he feared that the children would blame themselves for the death of their mother. So he decided that these boys would be raised with love, but nothing else. He would no longer discipline them or allow anyone else to tell them they were wrong. He let them do as they pleased and wouldn't allow them to suffer any consequences. While the poor King meant well, a life without punishment or mistakes is not a good one. The children grew up spoiled and wicked, seeing the world as a game. They treated the servants of the castle like toys, able to bully and hurt whoever they wanted, while every greedy desire was filled. This continued for many years, even as the children became adults, wasting their fortunes and abusing everyone beneath them. They believed that because they were royalty, they deserved the best. They were never told that royal blood, power and gold wasn't necessary for someone to love you. The King told them every day that because they were princes, they were adored by all, even though it wasn't true.

Things would have continued on this dreadful path if not for one mistake. The younger prince often enjoyed using the royal carriage and driving it himself, not caring if anyone or anything was in his path. One day as he was out riding near the edge of the village, a brand new sight caught his eyes. He had seen the most beautiful girl in the entire village – she was outside her house, hanging the laundry out to dry. The prince was so distracted by her beauty that he didn't look where he was going, and the carriage smashed into a nearby tree. The prince was badly injured, and his horses were loose, running rampant.

When the prince woke up, he was inside the very same house, and being tended to by the very same maiden who had accidentally caught his attention. Her brother had calmed down the horses and was working on repairing the carriage. The brother wrapped up his wounds, and the sister sewed up his torn clothing. All the while they asked if he was all right, what they could do for him, and told him that all would be well. The prince assumed all this care was because he was royalty, and so demanded they tell him what price they expected to be paid for their services. But the siblings didn't understand what he was saying. That was when he realized they didn't know he was a prince at all.

~*~

Minnie remembered details that the magician had long since forgotten, like her surprise at how frail and thin the boy in her bed was. It was as if he'd never done a single difficult thing in his life and had no muscles at all. He stared at her, incredulous at what had been said, his cold eyes changing as he struggled to understand. As he tried to form some kind of sentence, Minnie placed a cool, wet rag on his forehead.

“If we're not careful, you could get sick from those wounds,” she had said. “So hopefully that will keep away any fever...but if it doesn't, the doctor in the village is wonderfully talented. I'm sure he'd cure you in no time,” she chirped pleasantly, happy to speak praise of anyone at the drop of a hat. “And the best part is, Clarabelle gave me a little extra payment on her last dress, so paying the doctor will be no trouble at all!”

At that, the boy gripped the bed sheets and tried to sit up, despite Minnie's protests. “Now you wait one minute.” His voice was dry and harsh. “Accepting no payment for aiding me is one thing... but you don't actually expect me to believe you'd shell out good coin for a complete stranger! No one would do that to someone they didn't love or know! Are you nuts?!”

Minnie blinked rapidly, unable to understand what the fuss was all about. Donald calmly reached out and pushed down on the boy's head, sending him back into bed. “If you keep fussing like that, you'll make your wounds worse.”

The boy grumbled, embarrassed that he couldn't even push back. “I am not fussing.”

“Listen, I've raised more than my fair share of baby horses, chickens, cows, and sisters, I know what fussing is.” Donald crossed his arms, ready to tie down the brat if need be. “Sheesh, you act like you don't want us helping you. Would you rather we kick you out?”

“Donald,” Minnie said his name only once, but just that once got him to ease up. She then faced the boy again, all sweetness again. “We're not going to kick you out. In fact, I don't think you should even leave this bed for a few days. Don't you worry about paying or nuttiness or anything at all.” She then stood up, brushing her dress down. “We should get you a good meal, and put some energy back into you! Then I can take measurements for your robes, they'll need to be resewn.” She then clapped her hands together, excited at her new project. “And they're made out of such wonderful materials! It's so rich and soft, this is going to be so much fun! You really have to tell me where you got them!”

Donald stuck a thumb to his chest. “And I'll work on fixing that carriage of yours. If I get a few extra hands from the villagers, it should take no time at all! Might wanna replace the shoes on the horses, though, those guys seem a little worn out.” His eyes shone and his voice became just as giddy as his sibling's. “Once they're no longer spooked, I bet those guys will be able to run faster than we can see! Those are some strong horses you've got there, you have to be proud!”

The boy stared at them, incredulous. The happiness he was seeing there was completely unfamiliar to him – he knew then and there he'd never come close to feeling anything like that. All of his toys, all of his horses, all of his gold, nothing had ever made him smile like they were smiling. He felt himself sinking deeper into the bed. He was a prince, he was royalty, and yet now he felt he was in the presence of two vastly superior beings.

Minnie lightly touched his forehead again. “Now then, is there anything else we can do for you?”

The boy said nothing at first, watching her, trying to understand her, not knowing his eyes were losing their icy glare. “No,” he finally said, and for the first time in his life said, “Thank you.”

~*~

They had no idea who he was, but they had reached out their arms and welcomed him into their home, treating his injuries and helping him in every way they could. The prince was stunned that anyone would be so kind to a complete stranger. To them, rich and poor didn't matter when it came to helping another. Most amazing of all, they wore bright, happy smiles as they hammered up his carriage and washed the blood from his clothes. They were pleased to be helping another person. It was a joy that the prince didn't know could exist. It made all the so-called happiness he thought he knew in the castle seem hollow and empty.

Soon the prince could leave the house, but he found he was reluctant to leave a house of pure love and reenter one so fake and shallow. The prince decided that he didn't want a love he hadn't earned, and wanted to understand how the siblings saw the world. So he decided he would return to the village and not tell people who he was, pretending to be a mere traveler. His surprises continued as the villagers were also kind and welcoming to him, despite thinking he was a commoner. A farm woman offered her eggs for free since he was a new face, and her husband volunteered to give him a tour of the village. A noblewoman selling flowers laughed at his jokes. The blacksmith wanted him to have a seat and share stories. No matter where he went, he found that no one cared for titles or riches, for they had the fortune to know one another.

The prince continued to visit the siblings, and his world opened up. No longer was he merely a prince, but he found new aspects to himself that they brought out. He was a joker, clever, full of energy and creativity. He discovered that it wasn't that they completely loved strangers – their love came from love of humanity itself, of knowing the possibilities with new friends. He learned about hope, compassion, and hard work – and as he saw how hard his friends worked, he better understood how the kingdom was ruled, more than any tutor could teach him. The kingdom was great and prosperous, but it could be better. Perhaps adding a new road there, increasing a price there, getting rid of laws or loopholes... but there was one problem with his attempt to make changes. He wasn't the heir to the throne.

The elder brother was still spoiled and wicked, and had no desire to change his ways. He didn't understand why his younger brother chose to mingle with commoners, and mocked his sibling for his foolish hobbies. The younger prince tried again and again to bring the older prince out of the castle to see the wonderful ways of the kingdom, but the older prince refused. He enjoyed his narcissism and greediness far too much to let anyone inside his heart. The older prince assumed that the younger prince must be toying with the villagers, it was the only thing that made sense to him. It was clear that when he became king, his selfish ways would bring great harm to everyone. He only cared about himself, and believed love was bestowed upon him whether he'd done anything to earn it or not.

The younger prince was despondent, but he still continued to visit the village, even revealing his true self to them all. They happily accepted him and treated him no different, having come to truly adore him the same way he adored them. The ones who cared for him most were the siblings, and no one was surprised to find he felt the same – especially when it came to the pretty little sister. Her heart knew no limits, giving those who had lost their second chances, third, and fourth ones. Whenever she fixed clothing, it was as if she became part of the owner's family, knowing the right stitches and seams to make the old dress or suit feel new again. Sometimes the prince would watch her work, and it was like her fingers were magical, able to weave enchantments around string and cloth, so you'd never knew it had a rip in the first place. All the while she'd hum a merry tune, and perhaps cast the prince a shy smile.

Eventually she got tired of him merely watching and invited him to sit with her, so she could teach him how to sew and stitch. He pricked his fingers many times, and she'd kiss them until the pain went away. The first time the prince successfully stitched two pieces of cloth together, he felt actual accomplishment for the first time in his life. It was only then that he felt he was capable of doing things, of making change, of actually working for someone else. He understood why the little sister took such great pride in her work – and he wanted to feel the same pride. A true ruler was not a ruler at all, but an equal worker with the people of his land. The little sister believed he could do anything he put his mind to, and it was no wonder that she stole his heart. Her brother could see it plain as day, and would often wait a little longer to return home so the shy lovers could spend more time alone together.

Little by little, the younger prince tried to make what changes he could. The man who could tame horses became the stable-hand, an injured guardsman could rest knowing his family would be taken care of, and an arrogant Captain found himself soothed when treated with dignity. But this happy time was not meant to last. The King was growing ill, and it was apparent that soon he would leave the world and his bratty son would ruin the throne. The younger prince was ready to give up all hope of change, but the stable-hand didn't see anything ending so soon. If the older prince wasn't going to change, then someone else would need to rule the kingdom. So the stable-hand asked, “Why couldn't the younger prince take the throne?”

~*~

Minnie saw this too, although the boys hadn't known she was there at the time. Donald and his friend were in the marketplace, with Donald dragging Mickey to every single stall in an effort to buy him something. Donald was overjoyed by his new job at the castle, and insisted he show his thanks with coin, but the boy wasn't having any of it, although the continued efforts were making him laugh. He even laughed when Donald pulled him under his arm and gave him a noogie between the ears. “C'mon you little brat, let me get you a new saddle! Or new shoes! At least let me buy you a meal, you stubborn git!”

“I told you,” the boy said between breathless laughter, “I don't want nothin'! I'm just happy it all worked out!”

At the time, Minnie was getting new sewing needles, and she spotted the two boys playfully roughhousing. She had planned to strut over and see if the boy noticed how much effort she had put into her appearance this morning, but Daisy had suddenly yanked Minnie out of sight, grinning as she put a finger to her lips. To Daisy, spying could be just as much fun as flirting. Minnie didn't quite agree, but neither did she actually fight Daisy off, as they popped their heads around the corner of Daisy's house to watch what the boys would say, preferably about them.

But the subject didn't wander over to females, as Donald let go of his companion. “'Nothin'', he says... you sound more like a villager than a royal! You ever get in trouble for speaking like that?”

“Naw, father doesn't mind...” The boy shrugged. “Mortimer makes fun, but he makes fun of everything I do. He thinks this is all some big joke and he's having the biggest laugh, but he doesn't even want to understand why I'm here.” The boy slowed down his walk, his earlier enthusiasm vanishing. “I'm... I'm really worried, Donald. The other day I heard him proposing some ideas for when he takes the throne... All of it was taxes. Taxes on chicken feed, taxes on wagon wheels, taxes on horseshoes...he's going to rob everyone of every last coin they have, and he thinks he deserves it.”

Donald stuck his hands into his pockets, initially quiet given the seriousness of the conversation. “...Have you given any thought to what I said? I meant it. You should be the next king.”

The girls had gasped and covered each other mouths with their hands – Minnie got to Daisy's first - quickly to muffle the sound. Donald glanced over, quizzical at what he thought he heard, but the boy sighed loudly enough to bring him back. “I don't know...that's a lot of responsibility, and I...I don't think I could ever be as good as my father.”

Donald gently placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. “No one's asking you to be as good as your old man. Amazingly enough, he's not perfect, and neither are you...no matter what certain girls may be thinking.” He shot a glance at the not-very-well-hidden lasses. He didn't need to see Minnie to know she was blushing deeply and Daisy was suppressing mad giggling. “We just want you to be you, and that's more than good enough to help us all out. At least ask around and see what everyone else thinks.”

The boy slowly smiled, lifting his head to face Donald. He reached up and squeezed the hand on his shoulder. “Thanks...Y'know, you're one of the best friends I've ever had.”

“Does that really count if you didn't have any friends until you met me and Minnie?”

The boy smirked. “If I do become king, the first thing I'll do is outlaw all wise-guys.”

Donald put his arm around the boy's neck in a pretend choke. “I'll stop the wisecracks if you let me reward you, my bother-in-law.” But he hadn't forgotten the R.

Now it was the boy's turn to blush and fluster while Donald cackled joyfully, and the girls collapsed against each other in high-pitched giggles, having no doubt that the boy would be king and their lives would be grand and glorious.

~*~

The younger prince was shocked at the idea, and at first didn't accept it. But as he went from friend to friend, villager to villager, he discovered they too encouraged the idea and would be proud to see him wear the crown. Encouraged by all those who believed in him, the prince approached his dying father and on one knee, made the argument to become the next king. As the King listened to all the experiences his younger son had gone through, and how much his boy had changed, he realized how wrong he had been to raise his children without a firm hand. Despite his failings, the younger prince had become a fine man, and would be a fine ruler. The younger prince was henceforth declared to be the heir to the throne.

The older son was enraged by this choice. He saw his younger brother as a thief, and his father as a liar who didn't truly love him at all. He refused to let his power be taken, and would use any means to keep what he saw as rightfully his. The older son decided to use the family's secret to secure his throne. Long ago when the sons were still young, the King had told them of a magic book hidden in his room. It had been given to the earliest of kings by a friendly wizard, who assured them that if they continued to rule in kindness, then the magic would never fade. That was the number one rule of magic – in order to do a kindness, a kindness must be given in turn. Generations of kings and queens vowed to only use the book in the most dire of emergencies, and now the oldest prince felt this was an emergency. As his father slept, he crept into the room and stole the book, selecting a certain spell that would keep things the way he wanted them – and more.

The night before the last of the spell was complete, the younger prince visited his favorite family once more, telling them that he would take the throne. They were happy for him, and knew he would rule well. He promised tomorrow he would see them again, and he took the younger sister into his hands, telling her that he would have a very important question to ask her when that day came. He told her how much he loved her, that his very day and night began with thoughts of her, and that she had helped him become a better person. She responded that she loved him too, and that her life was richer than gold because she knew him. Whatever question he had for her, she knew she would reply with truest sincerity and deepest love.

~*~

This memory was clearest of all, for it had the most details she could grasp. The chilly air under the moonlight gave the boy the idea to take off his cape and wrap it around Minnie's shoulders. They could have just as easily gone inside the house, but Donald was there, and this was not a moment that needed teasing. Even though the moment was peaceful and tranquil, with their foreheads pressed together and not a word exchanged between them, their hearts were racing. The boy would be King, not tomorrow and not the day after, but it would be soon. For better or worse, things would change, and they were both excited and afraid of what that would entail.

Minnie looked into his beautiful blue eyes, amazed that once they held so much cold and cruelty. She knew she was part of the reason for that change, and there was a hint of pride in her heart. “You're going to be a wonderful king,” she spoke softly.

“I'm gunna do my best,” the boy replied, and Minnie had come to enjoy the drawl he picked up from the village. It seemed as if the real boy had been hidden for years and being in the village had drawn him out. “And I still might not be sure what my best is...but I'm going to try. This whole kingdom is full of great, amazing people...” He reached out to cup her cheek. “And I want to keep them all happy.” Even if he valued some people's happiness over others. He was a flawed being – but so was everyone else, like his great father. “And I want you, and Donald, and everyone else to keep my head on straight. I won't be running this place alone. We're all going to work hand-in-hand, together.”

Minnie touched the hand on her cheek, wanting to keep him there even though she knew he had to leave soon. “What did you want to ask me? Why does it have to wait?”

The boy smiled – a real, genuine, full of happiness smile. “Sorry, Minnie, but not even you are gunna get out of me until the time is right!”

“What's wrong with the time right now?” Minnie grabbed his robes, trying to yank him down. “Ask me, ask me, ask me!”

“No way, no how, not now!” The boy made a run for it, laughing merrily, and the girl ran after him, laughing just as hard, chasing each other around the smashed tree. He managed to outrun her and then caught her in his arms, spinning her around as they dizzily called each other names in truest adoration. She tried to demand he tell her, so he silenced her with a kiss, and it was warm, and it was soft, and each kiss they had was better than their last. But no matter how many kisses were exchanged, no matter how many declarations of love were passed between them in sweet whispers, he wouldn't ask her what he wanted to ask her until, as he insisted, the time was right.

Finally the boy had to leave, and as he reluctantly began to enter his carriage, he felt his sleeve being tugged. He turned around, an amused expression on his face. “For the last time-”

“I know,” Minnie interrupted, letting go of him. “All I wanted to ask was...whatever this question is...is it going to help the kingdom?”

The boy watched her for a moment, and Minnie felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. The boy took her hand and kissed her knuckles, and her heart skipped a beat. “I think it will help the kingdom in a million and one ways... but even if it didn't, I still think it's pretty gosh darn important. Might be the most important question I ever asked.” Then, playfully adding as he drew her in close to kiss her forehead. “Aside from, 'are you nuts'?”

Minnie pushed him into the carriage, sticking out her tongue, but once he was gone and the hoofbeats couldn't be heard, she put her hands on her chest, and she smelled his scent on his cape. She somehow knew this night was a special one. She touched her fingers to her lips, wondering if she'd ever stop smiling. She had an idea to what his question would be, but for now she'd wait. She could be patient, if he was going to ask what she believed he would ask.

~*~

In the night as everyone slept, the older prince finished the last action of the spell – a spell to make everyone forget that the younger prince had ever existed. Yet the older prince didn't realize the spell would even affect himself. In the morning, no one remembered who the younger prince was. He was thrown out of the castle as an intruder, no matter how hard he pleaded and begged for his family to remember him. He ran into the village, but no one knew his name, and it was as if they didn't want to know. Not only had every memory of him been taken, but even the actions he'd done were being forgotten. In one last desperate act, he ran to the house of the seamstress and the stable-hand. The stable-hand had no idea who he was, and was about to find his sister to ask if she knew who the stranger was.

The younger prince couldn't stand the thought of his beloved asking who he was, and so he fled from the kingdom with a broken heart. Like a coward, he hid away from the world, crying over what he had lost and couldn't regain. His gentle father died without remembering his youngest son. Every day, the prince too began to lose memories about himself, even his own name, and feared one day he would vanish completely. Yet not everyone had completely forgotten him, for as powerful as the spell was, it was no match for the original immortal wizard who had created it – his mind would last much longer than a mere mortal's, although he too would eventually forget. The kindly, goofy old wizard had sensed someone using his spells for an ill purpose, and had found the younger prince. He took the boy in, teaching him spells to delight and help those around him, but also warned the prince that the kingdom was suffering because of the older prince's actions.

The older prince had ignored the one rule of magic – to do a kindness and have a kindness be done in turn. Because he had done neither, the spell was incomplete and wreaking havoc with everyone's minds. Their memories were fighting back, trying to be remembered, and the inconsistency all around them would cause them great pain and panic. Soon, everyone in the kingdom would be stricken with agony before ultimately leading to their deaths. The spell had finally started to affect the wizard as well, forgetting the prince's name and what he'd taught the boy. The wizard did know how to reverse the spell, but unfortunately it was through an action neither of them could do. The younger prince couldn't allow his people to suffer, and with what little he remembered of his spells and his life, he bid the wizard farewell. The wizard gave the boy his magical staff, which would boost his powers and delay the headaches, but only for a short amount of time. With the spells, the staff, and the ambition, the prince needed to find the one person who could perform the action and reverse the spell, and he knew who it would be.

It was the one person he loved, the one he wanted, the one he needed, and even if it would torment him to have her ask who he was, he knew he had to see her again. Her bond with him was the strongest, and she would be the one to last the longest, and she could find the...

~*~

It was there that the magician stopped his tale, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple. Minnie gasped, as if she'd forgotten how to breathe, and she remembered where she was, as hot tears rolled down her face. No, she didn't know his name, but her heart pounded with tragedy and devotion – how could she have forgotten him? How could she have lost the times when he cupped her face and kissed her hair, whispering words of tenderness that he was embarrassed others would hear? The warmth of his cape on her shoulders – she could see it all, feel it all, clear as day – his bruised face laying on her bed, those cold eyes melting into genuine affection, his games with the children of the village, his merry dancing when festivals were alive – and – oh – oh no, no, no, just as she was seeing them, they were leaving! She'd sold the cape when she couldn't recall where she'd gotten it - she was going to forget them again – she was going to forget him again!

Minnie jumped off the hay and ran to the magician, grabbing his arms, as if by holding him she could never let anything about him go again. “What can I do?” she begged him, shaking him hard. “I don't want to forget you again! How can I reverse the spell?” The headache came, and she fought it off, though it wasn't easy.

The magician dropped to one knee, holding her hands gently. “The only way to reverse the spell...is for someone who loves me to say my name.”

The seamstress plunged into what few memories she had left, but to her horror found that not even times of kisses and playful dates had a name to them. “I...I don't remember!” She breathed rapidly, her body trembling with sadness. “I'm trying, but I can't! And...I'm losing it all again! It's all leaving me!” Her vision blurred, and she knew she loved him, but she couldn't say why. “You're why...You're why I can't be with anyone else! I don't want to be with anyone else! I'll never be truly happy again unless I'm with you!” She bent over, hoarse with sobs, knowing that if she closed her eyes she'd forget the color of his eyes. “There's... nothing I can do...”

“Yes, there is.” The magician's soft voice became strong, and he held her face, the way she thought she remembered he used to. “I've lost so many memories...but my memories about you are the strongest! I know that there's an item in the castle that still has my name on it! It's hidden in my room, and the one thing Mortimer didn't toss away, because I never told him about it. I know it has my name on it, and if you say it, then everyone will remember everything! The headaches will stop, and Donald won't be in pain anymore!”

Minnie swallowed hard. “Item? What item?”

The magician's face momentarily fell. “I... I don't remember what it is. All I can remember is that I hid it, it has my name, and it's connected to you somehow! If I get in the castle myself, Mortimer will throw me out before I can find it. There has to be some way for you and Donald to get in the castle. He's the stable-hand, maybe you can use that somehow!”

No, that wouldn't work, and Minnie knew it. She also knew there was another way into the castle, and for a moment wondered why the magician hadn't mentioned it – unless he'd already forgotten, or just as plausible, the idea would disgust him so deeply he'd forbid it. It disgusted her too, but it was the only way she'd be allowed within the castle, and to find the item that would save the kingdom. She wouldn't tell the magician, not when he was already suffering so much. All her life she wanted to be useful to people, to help them, and this would be the hardest way yet. Donald had said he would spend every coin he had to keep Minnie healthy – it was time for her to step up and return that devotion.

“There is something I can do,” she finally said, hands knotted together. “Something only I can do.” For the sake of her brother, for everyone in the kingdom, and to save the man in front of her, she'd sacrifice everything. Hers was a love for all so great and pure it could be devastating.

The magician smiled, perhaps with a tear or two of his own. “I believe in you, Minnie.” That one word, that one name, was the one that had never been forgotten for a single second. If all else failed and he was doomed, it would be the last memory to leave him, he knew it. He pressed their foreheads together – he greatly longed for a kiss, but knew if he dared, he would be unable to leave her, even though his mere presence was hurting her mind. He could see her wincing in pain, and understood his time was up.

He rose to his feet, picking up a strand of straw as he did so. “Because you have done me a kindness and listened to my story, I will do you a kindness and turn all of this straw into gold.” There was no need for fancy flourish or trying to impress her when time was on the line. Once more he blew the strand away, once more all the straw flew around in a dizzying tornado, and once more when the blinding colors came to a stop, gold bars covered the floor to the ceiling. Minnie closed her eyes, her hands clinging to her dress. She was afraid, deeply so, and she knew that even if she had all her memories intact, she was never as frightened as she was now. The things she was about to do, the fate of everyone in her small hands, it was a burden she wasn't ready for. But she'd carry it all, and she wouldn't complain, she wouldn't object. She never knew she was capable of such strength.

Had the magician brought it out of her, during those tranquil days of stitching colors and sharing stories? The spell was over, and Minnie dared to look up, but this time the magician hadn't even given her a farewell before leaving. Perhaps it had been too much for him to see her this way, and she couldn't blame him. Her head hurt, and so did her heart.

Minnie couldn't go anywhere now, the gold made it impossible for her to walk to any of the rooms, even blocking her off from Donald. She could only go to the door, and used this space to quietly call for the guards. “Inform the King,” she said with a somber voice, “that the gold is ready.” Without waiting for a reply she closed the door. She sat down, hugging her knees, unable and unwilling to sleep. Every time her head seemed ready to nod off, she bit down on her tongue, making herself jolt back up. She wouldn't allow herself to sleep, to let her mind lose more memories, not if she could help it. The night passed like eternity, and every so often she wept over what she had lost and what she could lose.

After what felt like centuries of agony, she could hear the sound of hoofbeats outside. She slowly stood up, brushing down her dress and cleaned up her face as best she could. The door opened, with Pete coming inside first. Even though he was there the first morning that this had happened, he was still shocked to see all the gold piled up like tall buildings.

“Hooolyyyy cow.” Pete drew out the word as his eyes took their time surveying the room. “I don't think this much gold exists in the whole wide world.” He looked down at Minnie, and while there wasn't exactly kindness in his face, she thought she saw a mixture of awe and respect. “How do you do it, miss? I mean really, how do you do it?”

Minnie blinked and for a brief second saw him before the spell had been cast – he had still been big, but it had been controlled, a warm portly belly that moved when he laughed and strong arms that could hug everyone – but then it was gone, and he was a sad soul that left hurt feelings control his diet. “I just do my best, Captain,” she finally said with a faint smile. “Just like you do. It's all anyone should ever want from you, and I know you do it.”

Pete was surprised, and he scratched his cheek, unsure how to handle such a compliment. Perhaps he would've thanked her, if the King hadn't shoved him aside. “Hey, if you want to be the first person road-block, do it somewhere else, tubby!” And just as Minnie had a quick flash to Pete's former self, a horrid memory came with Mortimer as well.

It was quick, and she couldn't remember all that had been said – but she was very sure he had approached her with leery eyes and eager fingers, trying to entice her, trying to take her, trying to assure her that he'd be a much better match for her than her brother, and that was all it had really been, trying to somehow prove he was better than his brother by taking what he loved most – and she had slapped him, hard, right across the cheek -

“What is this?” Mortimer asked, startling Minnie back to the present – her hand had been outstretched, close to reenacting what she recalled.

“I...wanted.. to shake your hand!” Minnie said quickly, her body shaking. “And thank you for coming to my humble little house again!”

“Ah, of course!” Mortimer took her hand, kissing her knuckles and making Minnie's skin crawl. “See, now there's some real respect. Maybe a good night of work showed you what's what.” He then looked around to see the gold, heels clicking with glee. “And look at all that work! I could fill my entire room with all this gold! Pete, don't just stand there, start carrying something other than your gut!” He rubbed his hands, and walked over to the closest section of gold, beginning to count.

Minnie braced herself, biting her lip, before she spoke. “Your Highness... is this going to happen again?”

Mortimer frowned at being interrupted. “So what if it does? There's plenty of straw left in this kingdom, and plenty of room in my castle for gold! You should be grateful that I've chosen you to do this honor! Others would beg for an opportunity to even be near me!”

As Pete glanced around, wondering what happened to Donald, Minnie continued speaking timidly. “And if I don't spin the next batch of straw into gold again, I'll be thrown into the dungeon... or become your bride.”

“That's right!” Mortimer snorted, crossing his arms and continuing to count. “So unless you'd rather be behind bars or behind the castle walls, you're going to do exactly as I say.”

“... What if I'd rather do that?”

Both men stopped what they were doing, and although Donald couldn't hear this conversation, he felt a sudden urge to sit up in bed.

Minnie looked right into the eyes of the man killing the kingdom, and no longer hesitated, speaking as boldly and directly as she could.

“Your Highness, King Mortimer...Please give me the honor of being your bride.”