#“and he will never forget the bewildered look his father gave him”

[chasing-posts]

My funniest inside joke/ head canon I have, is that it's not Rock Lee who is Gai's number 1 fan,

It's Itachi Uchiha

And Itachi's true regret is never being able to express it to his heart's content.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 56 - Part 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

Vince

Bryce and Lucas's brother Craig had brought me to my room.

It had been a couple of hours ago but they were still posted at my door, the silhouette of their feet underneath the door unmoving.

For once, they were silent, hardly any small talk from them.

I wanted to scoff, guarding my door for what?

So I didn't go on a rampage again?

I was more a threat to myself than anyone else at this point.

Trapped in my own room with these thoughts about what had happened earlier was not helping.

I was angry, disappointed, hurt and terrified, angry not only at Michael but at myself.

Disappoint at myself for doing that and terrified of what the outcome would be.

It didn't help that Simon's things were still here, his bag in the corner, his jacket laying over the couch's armrest.

Still there from the night he left, would he even come back here anymore?

With that look on his face, I wasn't sure if there was even a chance in hell that he'd come back and tell me the things I wanted to hear.

I mean what did I expect, for him to come around and pretend nothing happened?

There was a commotion, an exchange of words before I could hear the door open.

It hadn't been the guards and to no surprise, it hadn't been Simon.

Instead, Xavier walked in, a shock that he had even wanted to be near me at this point.

He shut the door behind him and walked closer.

I didn't bother to look up at him, knowing it wouldn't make anything better.

"You shouldn't be here, Xav," I said plainly, staring at the wall beside him.

"And why not?"

I looked up at him finally, wearing a pursed frown but not that terrified look I had seen hours ago.

"Because," I told him before sighing angrily.

I mumbled grudgingly...

"Forget it."

The silence grew before I dared to ask...

"Simon? How is he?"

Xavier blinked before glancing away.

"He's alright now."

I clenched my teeth.

"You should be with him, not here with me."

He hummed before letting out a soft laugh.

"You know, he said the same damn thing. Told me to check on you."

"He needs you more than me."

I frowned.

"Vince..."

"You shouldn't be here."

He looked bewildered.

"Why would you say that? He was genuinely concerned about you, and so am I, Vince."

"You know what'll happen, Xavier."

I frowned, ignoring his comment as he raised his brows.

"You can't be here."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not stupid," I told him.

He knew exactly what I meant.

"You'll be expected to make the final call. Michael is incapacitated and I'm the one in question. Whatever they decide to do with me, it'll fall to you. If they know I talked to you, they'll think I forced you to help me. "

"That's bullshit," he huffed out, before putting a more stern face on.

"You know I never wanted to be Alpha. Never thought I'd have to. To make a call like this?"

"You know everything there is to be one, Xavier and for the time being, you'll have to. The council will want this done immediately. After what they've seen, I'm sure they'll want to discuss it later on tonight."

"Then tell me what he told you," he demanded.

"I need to know your side of the story, Vince."

"It won't change a thing."

I clenched my jaw, my hands balled into fists at my side.

"If I told you what he did. What he said and what his intentions were."

"It will, Vince," he stressed.

"You wouldn't have done something like that if he hadn't said something."

We glared at each other for a few moments before I gave in.

I ran a hand through my hair before telling him everything.

From the visions, the memories I had seen of Simon at his worst, to finding the ring in father's chest to the moment Michael pulled it out and I snapped.

From what he told Simon to what he told me about his intentions.

Xavier scoffed before closing the gap across the room, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"And you think this won't change the council's minds?"

I didn't reply, aware that if there had been a chance to explain myself it still didn't hide the fact that I had made myself a fool today.

"He murdered our father," he fumed, throwing his hands in the air.

"The council will have his head."

"And mine. It doesn't change the fact that I nearly slaughtered him in front of everyone. They won't believe me Xav," I seethed.

"You shouldn't have come here. They'll think you had a part in this too if you try and make excuses for me."

"They'll believe you," he rebutted.

"If we tell them what he did to dad. Besides, if you mention what he did to Simon, we could tell them it had to do with your wolf trying to protect him. He told me what happened and that's plenty of justification for what..."

"Just stop," I snapped at him.

"This had nothing to do with my wolf. Using him as a scapegoat won't do shit. The truth of the matter is that I nearly killed him, he could still die as we speak. We have no proof that he did those things, Xavier. Regardless of what he said or did, it doesn't change that."

He scoffed.

"I could say the same about you. There's no proof that you didn't have a reason to attack. He provoked you and there were witnesses to the scene, including me and Simon. Simon knew about the necklace and someone must've seen it."

I let out a breathy laugh.

He was being ridiculous.

"You'd defend the person who got your mate murdered, Simon's family murdered and nearly killed his own brother?"

"You're my brother," he said firmly before his face softened.

"We're supposed to look out for each other right? I won't let that council drag our family's name further by making these false claims and punishing the wrong people. Not again. They did that with Simon's family and I won't let them do that to you too."

"He's your brother too."

He turned to me with a solemn face, one that made him seem much wiser and older for a second.

"I told you I had my doubts with him. He's threatened Simon, threatened you and was conveniently away during that rogue attack. I'm not stupid, I've overheard a few of those phone calls and I don't think he plans on stopping here. He's been pushing your buttons this entire time and I think it's safe to say that he isn't here to help you. Whether it's for the role or to just mess with you, I won't let him have that satisfaction."

"You're being ridiculous," I sighed.

"Maybe I am," he said.

"Not off-brand for our family though. Maybe I'm not biologically related to you lot after all."

The air seemed to lighten a bit between us at his joke.

Aside from his humor and habit of rambling, Xavier seemed so mature now. I'm sure he still couldn't cook to save his life but this was a different version of him.

He had never been interested in pack affairs before, joked that he was the black sheep out of the family but here he was, willing to face the council of all people, probably go against everyone's wishes by trying to defend someone like me.

Someone he should've hated, someone he deserved to hate by all means.

Here he was risking to be scrutinized by the council.

I mean when was the last time I had been there for him?

"Xavier," I said softly, scared the words would fail me.

He turned to me with his usual aloof face.

"Whatever happens, make the logical choice. If something were to happen to Michael and they decide to exile or kill me, don't foolishly put a target on your back for me. You'll need their respect if you take his place."

"I'm going to do what I think is right," he replied.

"Whatever they say, I know what I saw, I know what I heard. I'm not going to let the council decide something so haphazardly. They've made hasty decisions before and I won't let them do that again. I won't let them wreck the only family I have left."

"Xav," I breathed.

"Please. If something happens to me, whether they exile me or... you'll look out for him. Protect him."

"Of course."

"You promise?" I looked at him sternly.

He chuckled before extending his pinky finger out to me.

Something we had done when we were kids, pinky promising each other over silly little things.

"Promise."

We locked pinkies before his phone buzzed and mine did shortly after.

He reached for his phone before squinted at it in disbelief.

"It seems our brother isn't done," he seethed as he checked his messages before showing me a picture of the treeline, wolves poking their heads through the bushes that lined the neutral territory.

"More rogues spotted. A bunch of them circling our less patrolled borders. They're forming herds."

"You think he's planned these? But he's..."

I shook my head.

"How would he have?" Xavier scoffed.

"Either he planned this before or he's well enough now to plan this. That or he's working with someone. Regardless, there's no way this is a coincidence. He wasn't here when the first rogues broke through earlier and now he's conveniently in the clinic when another attack is imminent? This isn't right."

"I don't like this," I mumbled.

"I don't like whatever game he's playing."

[spacecadetspe]

Nov. 18, 2023

Thrúd fought with Sun Wukong for two days. Betelgeuse won the bet. As such, she got to choose which guide would be assigned to Thrúd.

She fell to her knees, and I projected myself to her. “I condemned Sun Wukong, the Monkey King, to be imprisoned in a stone for five hundred years, because of the same behaviors you exhibit,” I said. “Congratulations. You have taught him something I could not.”

She looked up at me. “Hope… help me. I can’t stand… too much bleeding.”

I chuckled. “This coming from the girl who called out Death, himself.” I stemmed the bleeding, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

“You see now what you should be fighting… Don’t you?”

“The same thing my father fought; his past, his shortcomings…”

I held up a mirror to her. “You don’t gain anything by comparing yourself to others. And by now I think you’ve noticed.”

She looked up into the mirror for a long moment. “Grandfather gave up an eye for wisdom, father gave up his past and legacy...what must I forfeit?”

“Everyone is different. You know Odin nearly killed your father?”

“He told me.”

“You know why?”

She sneered. “Defiance.”

I scoffed. “What a short explanation. Your father loved me enough to know that what Odin was doing was wrong. And Odin couldn’t possibly be wrong, for once.”

She shook her head and squinted up at me. “Isn’t that the point of being powerful? You set the standard for what is just and what is not.”

I shook my head back at her. “You don’t set the standards for others. You set it for yourself. I’d say genocide is objectively wrong, wouldn’t you?”

“Grandfather said the giants were an abomination, an uncivilized blight upon the realms.”

I bobbed my head. “That’s an opinion. And you know what they say about opinions. Having an opinion does not make you correct.” I stepped to one side of her. “The astral realm I introduced you to… it’s full of some of the most amazing guides in existence. Many of them are Jotnar. Like Surtr, who forged my sword. The Reckoning of the Ages. Mother does not discriminate based on race. It’s petty and stupid.”

Thrúd hummed thoughtfully.

I went on. “Odin could not accept that there was any other path than his own. And in that regard, the knowledge he gleaned only served to make him paranoid, manipulative, and violent. And in the end, that is the very trait that led to his demise. He will not reenter the cosmic cycle. Not like others who die.”

The arena where she and Monkey dueled transformed into a section of the Unalome, and Thrúd stood up, bewildered. I challenged her to take a step forward. As soon as she did, BG’s red aura washed over us.

“I just think back to what I heard growing up;” she said, “‘Power doesn't corrupt, it enables’.”

I shrugged. “Sure. And I can do anything. But WHAT does it enable? Your wildest dreams? Your deepest fears? Your darkest desires? You get to choose. And the real strength is in making that choice.”

“Peace isn’t sought; it’s enforced.”

I shook my head. “Peace is a careful balance of pursuit and rest.”

“You can’t perfect something without breaking it.”

“There’s no such thing as perfection.”

She scoffed. “Says the woman who can do anything.”

“And who said you can’t? Not me!” I turned to look at her. “News flash, baby, but I’m not perfect. Never will be. So why the fuck would I be able to create something ‘perfect?’ All I can be is ‘enough.’” I turned and kept walking. “Your grandfather thought the universe would be perfect if he could control all of it." I shook my head. "And as a result, I seriously doubt he was ever happy a day in his long life. There are days when I’m so anxious that I forget I’m not supposed to fix everything. That i shouldn’t care if everyone likes me or follows me, or wants to be with me. And the weight… it’s too heavy.” I stopped to wait for her a bit. “So some days… I’m just a human. Doing my best with what I can. And that keeps me humble. Puts a lot of things into perspective. Do only what you can, and let someone else bother with the rest. When I can carry it, I play dream regent… but I have a lot of help. I have people who really care about me… and not just because I’m powerful.”

I left her in BG’s care, unaware of what would happen next…. That only days later, she would come falling out of the sky, crawling toward my palace.

By the time Vassilios brought her arrival to my attention, she was being escorted by a platoon of guards.

I ran down to meet them, and looked Thrúd over. Her left arm was missing, and in its place was a shimmering iridescent prosthetic.

“What happened?” I asked.

“The red giantess… She took it from me… She said it was hers…”

I started healing her wounds. “Gullveig. That’s who you’re talking about, right? Betelgeuse? The one you fought earlier?”

She nodded. “Yes. She said if I wanted it back, I had to find someone named Elpis.”

I grinned. “And then she threw you at me.”

Thrúd nodded.

I shifted my weight. “Well, first off… BG is Vanir. She wasn’t born a giant. Second, Elpis is my aspect. The Greeks still call me ‘Elpida’. She is also an astral guide, like BG.”

She nodded again. “Father interrupted my battle with ‘BG’, when I called Mjolnir to my hand. Said I had become too brazen. We fought, then BG interrupted and she and I fought for three days.”

“Seems she made her point,” I murmured. “She is the Warrior of the Ages, after all.”

“She said I fought well enough not to annoy her.” Thrúd clicked her tongue. “More insult than compliment...”

“If I were you, I WOULD take it as a compliment. BG does not suffer incompetence.”

BG had told her she fights in much the same way her grandfather did, and that she knew why Thrúd had challenged Death. Instead of revealing the answer, though, she cut off Thrúd’s arm and threw her in my direction. “She said if I wanted to seek what lies beyond battle, find Elpis.”

I chuckled and led the part inside, and invited Thrúd to sit with me in the kitchen. I explained that taking limbs is a thing astral guides do when they notice something holding their students back, and called Elpis to meet with Thrúd.

Neither seemed to be impressed by the other. Elpis is willowy and delicate-looking, with long dark hair, and Thrúd is chiseled, rugged, and a bit unkempt.

“A fairy is supposed to guide me?” Thrúd asked.

I sighed. “Thrúd…. She’s an astral guide. You NEVER underestimate astral guides.”

“I didn’t underestimate BG…”

“But you’re perfectly willing to underestimate everyone else around you?” I asked. “You have a bad habit of attributing muscle to strength.”

I told her very briefly of how Hecate and Hypnos intended to use Elpis as a weapon of mass destruction because of her power, and that was five thousand years before she became an astral guide. It was a nice STFU moment from me to Thrúd.

Elpis was mostly quiet during the introduction, but I got to hear more from them the following day. Elpis was showing her new student around the garden.

“It’s too quiet,” Thrúd said sulkily.

Elpis harrumphed. “Are you so used to chaos that quiet threatens you?” She shook her head. “Literally threatened… by nothing!”

“That’s not it,” Thrúd insisted. “Have you ever been hunting?”

Elpis nodded.

“It gets quiet when there’s a predator around.”

The guide smiled and nodded her head toward the castle. “There is.”

Thrúd looked over her shoulder at the castle. “What’s she like?”

“Kind. Not the sort to show off needlessly.” She looked back up toward the castle. “You met Phobetor?”

“Nightmare god? Yeah.”

“He’s terrified of her.”

Thrúd harrumphed.

“Why do you want to fight her, anyway?” Elpis asked.

“You learn a lot about a person from how they fight.”

Elpis chuckled, then started laughing out loud.

Thrúd wasn’t entirely sure what was funny, but she invited Elpis back to Thrúdheim for a stein of mead. Eventually Thrúd got around to asking about my swords, what Elpis knew, and if she could wield the ROTA. But although Elpis answered her questions, she refused to produce the ROTA just for the spectacle of it. She expressed blasé disinterest in fighting Thrúd at all. But she had something else up her sleeve.

“How about a game?” she asked, and produced two wooden cups and ten dice.

“What are we playing?”

“Devil’s Dice.” She told Thrúd the rules, and then used the first round to teach her opponent how it was played. Then she decided it was time for a wager.

Thrúd offered her three best Einherjar, but Elpis suggested the stakes be raised. “Let’s be vulnerable,” she said. “Wager something of a personal risk.”

Thrúd reluctantly offered her two favorite ravens. “My eyes and ears,” she said.

“Very well. Shall I wager what you want, or what you think you want?”

“What?”

Elpis elaborated. “You want strength; real strength. But what you think you want…” She pulled out Thrúd’s missing arm and laid it on the table.”

Thrúd stood up. “Where did you get that?” she cried.

“We’re astral guides. We talk to each other.” Elpis sat back. “And I’m an aspect of the chick who can do anything.”

And so the game began. Thrúd lost in two turns, and threw her cup across the room.

Elpis graciously only took one of the ravens as a token of their contract, and promised to still teach Thrúd what real strength looks like. “Fighting isn’t just about crossing blades,” she said. “And besides, no battle is ever won. You never win outright. You just trade one battle for a different one. And we all struggle. Who are you to determine whose struggle is more or less valiant?”

“I am a chooser of the slain. And the best warriors never come quietly.”

“They do if they believe in you,” Elpis answered. “It’s why I mentioned Phobetor. He’s terrified of Hope, it’s true. But she believes in him, and truly cares about him. And she demonstrates it. And so, terrified though he is, he loves her.” She set her stein down. “I’m one of the aspects who formed the ROTA. I went willingly. And I still have a freedom I never had before. That’s what Hope gives that you so readily forget.”

[devildom-moss]

Human Dating Advice (pt.3, SFW)

(Simeon x gn!MC)

(baking with Simeon, just very soft and full of love, SFW, ending might be a little rushed)

Word count: +2000

(pt.1)

(pt.2)

“Another time, angel.”

“Whenever – if ever – you’re ready.” Simeon gave you a smile that brought true spring to the Devildom. If the warmth of sunlight had ever or would ever reach the grounds outside of the House of Lamentation, it would still never know a soft glow like this: not bright so that one might squint when facing it but brilliant like certain bioluminescent algae whose existence in the dark is made majestic and awe-inspiring. If you were among the angels, perhaps Simeon would appear less holy and divine, but you were here in the darkness with him. When you know something glows in the dark, it is difficult to forget that it is special in the daylight. “Will you accompany me shopping, then?”

“Of course, Simeon. Would you like to hold hands?”

Simeon nodded and led you into town by the hand, occasionally pulling you closer in especially crowded streets.

Oh. You weren’t sure what to expect when he asked you to go shopping with him. Maybe you had spent too much time with Asmo (you hadn’t), but you didn’t realize he had meant grocery shopping.

“Are we here to pick up groceries for Purgatory Hall?”

“Not exactly. Actually, I wanted to bake with you. The weather is perfect for it. We did have all the ingredients to make cookies, but Solomon used the rest of the eggs, cinnamon, and melting chocolate in breakfast this morning,” Simeon shuddered.

“I’m sorry for your suffering. Was he trying to make pancakes or something?”

“Omelets, MC. He made omelets.”

“Sweet omelets?”

“No.” Simeon was almost bewildered by the credit you granted Solomon.

“Sounds like he made a war crime against your tastebuds.”

Simeon laughed, “thank goodness for Raphael. Luke and I told him we weren’t hungry, and Raphael managed to spare us from suffering by eating the leftovers.”

“Did you eat at all today?”

“Luke snuck two slices of blood berry poundcake out of the fridge and handed one to me before I left. He’s so sweet.”

“We’ll have to save cookies especially for him.”

“He’ll probably be jealous that I got to bake with you today, but I made arrangements to have Barbatos watch Luke for the day – well he’s offered to teach him how to bake a new cake recipe. Luke still won’t admit it, but Barbatos is like his Devildom god-father and mentor. Satan is taking Solomon and Raphael out to a cat café.” Simeon informed you as he casually walked through the store.

His thumb mindlessly rubbed your hand as he grabbed the cinnamon and the melting chocolate in one hand. When you got to the eggs, Simeon stared at the carton, puzzled and immobile.

“Is something wrong,” you asked.

“I’m afraid so. I can’t hold the eggs, cinnamon, and chocolate in one hand, but I don’t want to let go of your hand, either.”

You laughed at him. He looked so serious when he said that. You checked the top carton for any cracks and picked it up in your free hand, “problem solved.”

“Thank you, MC,” Simeon looked away, realizing that he was being unreasonably clingy.

From behind you, you heard a succubus sigh and mutter, “I can’t even go to the store without feeling single. I want a girlfriend so bad.”

You both held in a laugh for her sake. Simeon felt overjoyed to be seen as your partner – even more so to cause envy in a succubus. If one of the brothers had seen you two, it would certainly cause a scene, but right now, it felt like you were his, and he was yours. He savored the opportunity to show off your relationship all the way to Purgatory Hall, where he reluctantly let go of your hand to unlock the door.

“I’m going to change real quick, and I’ll bring back aprons for us, okay?” Simeon set his keys down and rushed into his room.

You set the bag down on the kitchen counter. When Simeon came back, he was in a DevilCat tank top, his beautiful shoulders on display again. There was something still so unfamiliar about casual clothes on Simeon’s body, and you couldn’t stop staring.

“You like the top? Solomon gave it to me. He doesn’t like clothes that show off his skin, but a witch friend gave it to him. It’s pretty cute, right?”

“You’re cute.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckled and handed you an apron, “but I’m not nearly as cute as you.”

“Can I tie your apron for you, angel?”

“If I can tie yours for you.”

You slipped the apron on and turned around for him. Simeon’s hands lingered at your waist before he grabbed the ties. You could feel him gently tying a tidy bow. His hot breath hit the back of your neck, “lovely.”

Simeon followed your suit and turned for you to tie his apron. He was too pretty to resist. You traced your hands over his shoulders and down his back. Using the ties, you pulled him back against your body before placing a kiss on his left shoulder. He shivered and gasped at the sudden contact. You smiled against his skin, placing one more kiss in the crook of his neck and then stepping back. The ties on Simeon’s apron were so long that you were able to wrap it around him, and you took your time slipping your arms around him and tying a snug bow. You gingerly hooked two fingers under the ties and tugged slightly to ensure Simeon had room to breathe, “comfortable?”

“Very. I didn’t realize this much touching would be okay. I would have gone slower.”

“Next time.”

“Tease,” Simeon leaned back into your arms. “Ready to bake?”

“Of course! What are we making?”

“Cinnamon sugar cookies drizzled in white chocolate,” he smiled, “I haven’t made this before, so I’m extra excited to be trying something new with you.”

“This will be great. I’m sure they’ll turn out amazing. Do you think we can make enough for me to bring some back for the brothers?”

“We’ll make enough for them – we can even make some for Diavolo and Barbatos. You know,” Simeon hummed, pulling the flour from the cupboard, “it’s easy to get a bit jealous that you’re thinking about others on our date, but you’re so nice, and I can’t fault you for making me envious. Could I trouble you for a kiss?”

You kissed his cheek, “better?”

“Exceedingly.”

Simeon set a recipe card on the counter so that you could both read it. You both made quick work mixing the dough together with Simeon mixing as you measured the next ingredients. Once it was all mixed, he looked at you and asked, “should we add more cinnamon?”

“The recipe said 2 teaspoons for this much dough,” you reminded him.

“I’ll let you in on a cooking secret, at home, no one really measures seasoning. Cinnamon is like garlic, you read that it goes into the recipe, and then add more.”

“Is that so?” you laughed.

Simeon was right, and if he had half a mind to call Barbatos and get a second opinion, he would have confirmed it.

“MC, one must season with the heart, and my heart says only two things in this moment: first, is that we should add more cinnamon.”

“And second?”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you kissed his cheek and handed him the bottle of cinnamon.

“Oh, no, you should add it,” he smiled. Simeon relinquished control to you. You hesitated, but he stepped away from the bowl and continued to smile eagerly. You had the power to ruin the dough in that moment, but he trusted you – trusted that your heart knew what his did well enough. You sprinkled it in and mixed until incorporated. You searched his face for validation. He touched your face slowly, softly rubbing your cheek. “Perfect.”

Simeon covered the dough and set it in the fridge, setting a wind-up sheep timer for 30 minutes.

“What do we do in the meantime?” you asked.

“What would you like to do?” Simeon asked. “We could watch an episode of a show, or you can put some music on and we can dance in the kitchen – I’ve read that human couples sometimes do that on cooking dates. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“Anything? Then, could we take this date to the couch? We could cuddle and make out until the timer goes off.”

“I’d love to.”

“Good,” you said, plopping down on the couch. You pat your lap, “come here, angel.”

“You want me to sit on your lap?” Simeon felt his face start to warm up as he fought the smile threatening his lips.

“Please?”

Simeon did not need you to ask again. He gently sat down on you, laying his legs up on the couch so he could turn to face you. You pulled him in closer by the waist, staring up at his gorgeous face. He wrapped one arm around your neck and cradled your face in his hand.

“You’re so pretty,” you told him. He loved when you complimented him – almost as much as he loved when you touched him. It wasn’t until recently that Simeon realized how touch-starved he was. Back in the Celestial Realm, Simeon had gone years – sometimes decades at a time – without an affectionate touch. At least now he got the occasional hug from Luke and Asmo or the feeling of Solomon’s arm against his as they sat together watching a scary movie. Barbatos had even held his hand at a busy market so as to not lose him in a large crowd once. He felt so much love since coming to the Devildom, and you were a major source of love and affection for him.

“You’re going to spoil me.” Simeon admitted.

“You deserve it, angel.”

You kissed him sweetly, playing with his soft hair as you did. You could feel him melting in your arms. A smile played on his lips and his hands touched you so gently – like he was holding onto something precious and fragile. When you pulled away from him, Simeon sighed with contentment and rested his forehead against yours.

“Can you keep spoiling me?” Simeon asked, his eyes hopeful. You obliged him until the little countertop lamb signaled the 30 minutes was up. A pout flashed on Simeon’s lips briefly before he composed himself. “One more kiss?”

“Of course, but it’s not as if we’re not allowed to kiss during the rest of the baking process.” You gave Simeon a quick peck on his lips to hold him over.

With the first batch of dough in the oven, Simeon prepared the chocolate as you scooped a second batch onto a fresh pan. He started to sing while stirring. His sweet voice filled the room, and with it, his joy seemed to reverberate off every wall. This was such a simple date, but he was overjoyed to the cliché point of singing. When Michael had sent him here, he never could have imagined this much happiness for Simeon. You had done this for him.

“MC, do you want some of this chocolate?” he asked.

“Sure,” you stood next to him. He grabbed a small spoon and fed you. It was sweet, perhaps even sweeter because he had fed you, and you were certain he had added cinnamon into the chocolate when you weren’t paying attention. “Delicious. Do you want me to feed you this time?”

“Actually, can I try something embarrassing?”

You nodded and Simeon stepped away momentarily to wash his hands. With clean hands, he used a spatula to spread a bit of chocolate on his fingertip. He wiped it on your lower lip, the isolated heat of melted chocolate emphasizing the touch. Simeon leaned in and licked your lip before kissing you. There was a slight blush on his face when he pulled back. You licked the remaining chocolate residue off your lips.

“That was fun,” Simeon chuckled.

Before you knew it, you had four dozen cookies made, and Solomon and Raphael had walked into the front door, remarking how good it smelled.

(pt.3, NSFW ending)

[draco-spencers-paramour]

There’s no me without you (8)

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: the aftermath

warnings: angst angst angst, fluff (with friends), draco being a huge twat, cheating

Next chapter

Hiding in the room of requirement and the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw common room probably wasnt the best way to deal with Draco and Astoria.

It was awkward whenever Blaise came over to you and Luna; you felt tired when you had to keep excusing yourself every time a Slytherin was within close proximity. You’d only ever go back to your dorm in the early hours of the morning when it was empty. Plus, you didn’t get much sleep anyway so it wasn’t a big deal.

Luna would run all the errands for you that involved going into your common room during the day. Of course, you felt bad but she didn’t mind at all as it gave her an excuse to see, Blaise. Despite the situation between you and Draco , you were still so happy for her and Blaise. However she’d never bring up her relationship with him even if you asked about it. She was worried it may be a touchy subject, her boyfriend being Draco Malfoy’s best friend even if you insisted.

The only time you felt at truly at peace though, was with George Weasley. He knocked on your door the moment he realised that you had not come down for breakfast the night after you and Draco broke things off. He had been your safe haven ever since. He constantly consoled you, he made sure to be your partner in every class, sat with you at meal times and everything in between. You couldn’t be more thankful for George if you tried.

You had barely seen Draco around, which honestly, was bittersweet. It was easy to feel numb and hate him but so difficult still harbour the deep love that you had buried within you. It had only been two weeks since that night he broke up with you.

Currently, you were lying on george, in the courtyard, under the tree. Today was the first day you had seen draco, luckily it was from afar but you hurt badly nevertheless. You tried not to yearn for him seeing him and Astoria’s hands linked on the bench. You nuzzled back into george before you caught Draco’s gaze, trying to forget about him and instead trying to focus on the redhead’s cinnamon scent.

“Draco you cant carry on like this forever. She’s clearly trying to move on with George.” Astoria insisted but Draco ignored her and carried on frowning at you draped over the Weasley boy, snuggling into him. “Draco!” Astoria squeezed his hand, getting his attention “For gods sake Tori what?” he scowled pulling his hand from hers, making sigh in annoyance “This is ridiculous. I thought you wanted to be with me. Everyone said that you told Y/N you loved me and We’re finally together now. But all you’re doing is looking at her.” He shook his head at her “Look, I do like you Tori but I’m not in love with you. To be honest, i love you in the way that….you’re like a cousin to me. Also, I’m still pissed at you for what you did, you basically ruined Y/N and I. Don’t think i’ve suddenly forgotten just because I finally did what our parents asked.”

Astoria looked at him bewildered “I’m like a fucking cousin to you? are you serious?” Draco rolled his eyes “That’s what you took away from this conversation? Not the fact that you hurt me?” She looked towards him with a hurt expression “Can I not even make you fall in love with me?” His eyes flicked between your resting frame and Astoria before standing up “You’re clearly not listening to anything i’ve said and i’ve had enough of this I can’t bare to look at it any longer. And for your information you cant make someone fall in love with you, Astoria, it just happens.”

She grabbed his hands “Wait, Draco please. I’ve always fancied you even when we were kids. I always made sure that you won all the games we played and I even stood up for you when Daphne used to tease you, I helped you with all your work and always tried to be there for you when your father was being cruel. I did anything I could to make you like me. Could you maybe just try to see me in a different light? I know how much you loved Y/n but maybe moving on with me might make you realise that I’m right for you.”

Draco could tell she was desperately harbouring a crush on him and it cringed him out he felt slightly bad for not liking her considering he agreed to marry her but it would never fill the void that you left. However, Astoria was aware of her own intentions and wanted you out of the frame entirely. She thought Draco was so very attractive but loved him for all the wrong reasons being nothing more than his looks, money and status and maybe he could give her some good looking children and an “auror husband who is a Malfoy” to gloat about at every social function. And that was all.

What she really hoped was that you would start dating George and if not she’d try to find something a little more permanent to make you go away. Nothing drastic but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. “I’m sorry but I just don’t feel that way for you.” Astoria rolled her eyes “Well your opinion better change soon or this is gonna be one unhappy marriage Draco.” he shrugged feeling extremely irritated “Shutup Astoria.” he said bluntly taking one more sullen look towards you and George before stalking off on the opposite direction.

“He’s gone now love.” George stroked the back of your head “For God sake i’m so tired of this. I’m literally having to stay alert 24/7 just so I don’t run into them. It’s exhausting.” your mumbled. “Y/N i really don’t see why you have to be the one to tiptoe around them when it was Draco who hurt you. Not the other way around.” George furrowed his brows. “You’re right.” you sighed.

He chuckled lightly tapping your back as a signal to get up. “Let’s get to class.” he said helping you up. You groaned in annoyance “Really? but people will be there and I don’t like people.” he took your hand in his “I know you don’t but you have me and i’ll make sure you don’t have to be around anyone.” you squeezed his hand as he dragged you along “Has anyone told you that you’re my favourite Weasley twin?”

He raised his brows “Don’t let Fred hear that.” both chuckling as you walked into the classroom many prying eyes went straight to yours and george’s linked hands. You sat in your chairs, where Draco usually sat next to you. I guess things change you thought to yourself. Or they don’t as when Draco entered the room your heart clenched. Which lasted for about 10 seconds when he stood behind George. “I believe you’re in my seat, Weasley.”

George laughed refusing to give him the time of day “Yeah? Well go find another Malfoy, Y/N asked me to sit with her from now on.” Draco flicked his gaze towards you feeling immediately hurt “I’d like to speak with her.” The gryffindor boy shook his head “I think you’ve done enough.” Draco blinked seemingly unaffected “Do you talk for her now? is that it? What suddenly makes you so high and mighty Weasley?” George stayed calm “Nothing Malfoy. Y/N just wishes not to be bothered by anyone today so I’m making sure I keep that promise for her. Something you don’t seem to be familiar with.”

Your eyes had been going back and forth between George and Draco scared of what might occur in the next 30 seconds if you did not get involved but your mouth wouldn’t let you speak. The blonde sneered “You know nothing.” George chuckled “All I know is that you’ve done Y/N a huge favour. And maybe that’s because now she’s come to the life-altering revelation that she is too good for you.” Draco had no response and just looked at you with the same expression as yours..sadness.

You shook your head, not wanting to utter a word to the boy even but knowing that he was never going to leave you alone if you didn’t say something. “Just fuck off Malfoy.” you muttered, looking around the classroom to see everyone watching what just happened before huffing turning back to your table and leaving draco and everyone else in disbelief. “I’m really sorry if I said anything out of turn.” George whispered. “It’s okay. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

The rest of the class went painfully slow as you fiddled with your rings trying to recover from the last few weeks but also trying to devise a way to smoothly integrate back into a social life without anyone asking questions about you and Draco. No chance.

To your delight the bell rang and you pulled George out of the class not without bumping into Blaise and Luna, which you didn’t mind at all. “Hey guys.” Luna said cheerily. Blaise gave George a small smile making you feel more at ease “It’s been a while Y/n. I miss your jokes im our section table.” blaise admitted. “I know. Me too rather enjoyed taking the piss out of flint. At least we see each other on the field.” you shifted awkwardly

“True. So, speaking of, how are you feeling about the final game in 2 weeks? Hope you’re feeling better from being ill, You gonna lead us now to victory or what?” Blaise nudged yor shoulder and luna giggled “Y/N you’re amazing at quidditch everyone says it.” you beamed at their comments “Thank you! I am better so i’ll be back this week but let’s wait and see. As for the game, we have a lot of practice ahead so if we stick to tactics then i think we have a good shot.” George put his hand on the small of your back to indicate his pride at your humility as the four of you walked into the hall. You hadn’t been attending practice for draco-related reasons which you lied and told madame hooch you were ill you’d have to go back this week with the final so near.

“Guess i’ll see you guys later.” You waved them off following George to the Gryffindor table where harry ron and hermione were sat. The trip greeted you politely as you took your seat between George and Ginny. It was a little awkward and you couldn’t blame them, the whole school are under the impression that you dated Draco for real, so people were obviously sceptical and suspicious of you. It didn’t make things any better when almost the entire Slytherin table was looking at you “fraternising with the enemy” whilst you made conversation with the chosen one, Harry.

“How are you holding up?” he said taking a sip from his drink. “Do you actually care Harry? You fucking hate Malfoy.” you put your head in your hand and he gave a small chuckle “True i’m not fond of him which is why I’m asking if you’re okay. Apparently he was quite the asshole.” this made you laugh in return for the first time in a while “Definitely…but i’ll be okay. I’m feeling slightly better these days.” you gave george a small nudge to emphasise him being the cause to which he grinned.

“That’s great. I can hex him if you want, you know, seek revenge and whatnot.” Harry shrugged, looking over at Slytherin table towards Draco and Astoria before smirking at them and shaking his head. You found his gesture strange, like he was plotting something in his head, but you brushed it off. “I appreciate the offer Harry, but I don’t want to draw anymore attention to the situation, I just want it to be over now.” he nodded “Sure, of course.”

The rest of the day went by smoothly and you repeated usual protocol of heading to the gryffindor common room after the school day and watching a film with George in his dorm before heading back to your own. It was the late hour of 1am and everyone would be in their dorms at this time. You entered and began to head up to your room before your wrist was grabbed making you yelp. A hand covered your mouth as you were pinned against a wall and you recognised the smell immediately.

Apples, mint, cologne…Draco. “Don’t scream.” he whispered. You ripped his hand off your mouth “What the fuck do you want, dickhead?” he sighed “To talk.” you scoffed “we have nothing at all to talk about, you ended things with me. You have no right to talk to me let alone breathe the same air as me.” draco looked at you intently as his blue orbs dazzled in moonlight reflecting ofd the window which caused your heart to race and your thighs to clench, you hated the effect he had on you and you hated him.

“So, uh what’s up with you and Weaselbee. thought you had higher standards?” he stood, hands in his pockets. You grimaced at him “That’s why you wanted to talk? to get the down-low on who i’m hanging out with now? None of your business is what’s up. Anyway, he’s far better than the likes of you.” he raised his eyebrows “is that so?” his piercing gaze entranced you as you barely noticed Dracos hand slipped around your waist.

“Y/N..” he trailed off stepping closer to you inching towards your face. You realised what was happening and with both hands you shoved him as vigorously as possible “what the fuck Draco? what’s actually wrong with you? You have a fiancée and ruined my life in the process. What now possesses you to cheat on Astoria with the girl you broke up with, for her just because you suddenly feel like it? That’s seriously fucked up. We were never even going out and you’re trying to fuck with me even now? Get help” you looked at him in disgust. Who even was he now?

And as if you had never said a word he came out with “Do you still love me?” tears brimmed in your eyes and your anger suddenly got the better of you and manifested itself into slapping draco straight across the face making him stumble back in pain “Burn in hell.” you sobbed at him before escaping out of the common room now wandering the halls aimlessly, helpless, confused and sad.

You the had the brilliant idea of going to the astronomy tower. You’d slept up there before…..with draco when you were star gazing one time. Shaking off that thought, your legs began to carry you there. Creeping up the stairs you heard a voice…and then another. You sighed hearing the moans of two students, for god sake, you thought as you began to creep back down the stairs leaving them alone to finish shagging. But you stopped in your tracks when you heard “Astoria…yes.” being gasped from an unknown person.

Draco was already in the common room…so? You felt sort of creepy but you tiptoed back up the stairs to see who the mystery man was. And what you found instead was probably the biggest revelation yet. Astoria Greengrass fucking the one and only Harry Potter. It made sense now why he was smirking at the slytherin table today… it was at her. Looks like he got revenge for the both of you after all. With a satisfied smirk you disappeared back to your dorm.

You wouldn’t let anyone find out just yet. But you couldn’t wait to the look on Draco’s face when he’s find out that Astoria had been cheating on him with the person he hates most in the world. The Chosen one. Harry Potter.

ITS FINALLY HERE i apologise so much for how long this chapter took me fucking 3 months but major fucking plot twist i kinda love it ahahahah

taglist: @raven-reyes-wife @mvdbldd @dracoslittlesunflower @paradisdementor @wanniiieeee @sycathorn-slush @im-constantly-fangirling-backup @theoriginalsuicidalprincess @persephonestoad @illy1011 @marajade888 @mwest17 @iluvfanfics @m4lf0ym1lk3rs @miss-celestial-being @slythermuf @scarlet-widow-247 @getouttofmyhead @croren @gia-lyn @tomxdracopovs @wintermorninghaze @lup1nsl0v4 @etherealyoonghwa

[silverflame2724]

Madam Lan, or, how she was known before her marriage, Han Mingyan, did not know how she ended up in this situation. One day, she had been wasting away in that prison the “illustrious” Lan clan call a seclusion house, the next moment, a bright, bubbly woman breaks the wards surrounding her house and says,

“I’m going to kidnap you. Right now! Let’s go!!”

Predictably, Mingyan did not know what to say except, “Excuse me?”

“Oh! I should probably introduce myself! I’m Cangse Sanren, the bane of RenRen’s - that’s Lan Qiren - life! I recently found out about your situation and decided to kidnap you away from here!”

“Okay....?” She was bewildered but jumped at the chance to escape with this random woman. Anywhere would be better than here, even if it was just.....for a day. She knew she would be recaptured sooner or later. 

The woman, Cangse Sanren, - who Minygan had heard to be the disciple of the immortal Baoshan Sanren - then opened a burlap sack that had been hidden behind her back and said, “Jump in!”

Mingyan, “.....”

........................

And this is how she found herself smuggled out of the Cloud Recesses like some contraband resources and is now listening to Cangse Sanren arguing with her husband, who seemed as confused as Mingyan herself was about this whole situation.

“You cannot just kidnap a sect leader’s wife!!!”

“I. Just. Did.” Cangse Sanren said as smugly as she could.

Wei Changze let out a long, drawn-out sigh, “If you wish for our son to stay friends with the two Lan young masters, you will return her back. And besides, we do not know her story.”

“But--”

“No.” Then, a sigh, “We will listen to everyone’s side of the story, should they be willing. But we have to give them that choice.”

“........I suppose you’re right.”

Mingyan took this signal and exited the sack. She didn’t know if she wanted to tell her story. Years of not being believed had conditioned her to just not say anything. 

They asked for her story, of course, but Mingyan took a roundabout way to say it. She needed to know their opinions, “What would you do if someone killed your teacher, Cangse Sanren?”

“Is this like......a trick question or something?”

“No. Please, answer the question.”

The smile slid off her face and she answered coldly, “I would find them and kill them.”

As expected. Mingyan closed her eyes, “I killed Qingheng-Jun’s teacher.” Twin gasps were heard across from her. “It was an accident, but it still happened.”

“An accident?” 

Mingyan nodded, relieved that they caught that. “Yes. He--that elder did not approve of the courtship between Qingheng and I. We argued and I pushed him away from me. He hit his head and bled out before help arrived. I--” Her voice wavered. “I never wanted to kill him. But it happened. I expected to be executed to atone for my crime, but I was rescued and imprisoned instead. I love Qingheng, but I wished he’d have me killed instead.”

“You love someone who would take you away from your children?”

“.......It is better for the children to not be influenced by me and my mistakes.”

“Children need their mother.”

“Not always.” Mingyan whispered. “Not from me.” She shook her head. “Forget it. Return me. It’s been a few hours and I don’t get checked on often. We could probably get back before they notice.”

Cangse Sanren coughed, “Uhh, about that.....”

Wei Changze gave her a long-suffering look. “What did you do?”

“Weeeeelll, I may or may not have scolded Qingheng-Jun about his behavior as a sect leader, husband and father....?”

“.....A’Se.....”

“Sorry! But seeing how stressed RenRen was and hearing about Madam Lan being locked up and prevented from seeing her children just got me really mad!”

Wei Changze shook his head, “Let us deal with it then.”

.......

As expected, Lan Qiren and Qingheng-Jun were waiting at the entrance. However, it didn’t seem like anyone else was with them, so it’s safe to say that Madam Lan’s escape wasn’t publicized.

However, there was a huge argument between Cangse Sanren and Qingheng-Jun. Despite knowing what she knew now, she still believed that the children would need their parents. That the Lan sect need their leader. And.....Qingheng-Jun and Han Mingyan needed to talk.

Qingheng-Jun was, of course, wholly unprepared for the force of Cangse’s bluntness, and caved reluctantly though only with Lan Qiren’s assistance.

Having solved the issue, Cangse jumped at Lan Qiren after the couple left and kissed his cheek in thanks. Lan Qiren turned an unhealthy shade of red while Changze chuckled, guiding the both of them to town for a drink and snacks.

And Lan Qiren, relieved of the burden of leading a sect and raising his nephews, let down his guard and allowed them to give him a small sip of alcohol.

Passing out surrounded by the worried voices of his closest people, Lan Qiren smiled.

(Seconds later, Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren would look at the drunk him with amusement as Lan Qiren began to drag them around Caiyi Town, having a great time.)

[luna-writes-stuff]

CHAPTER III

A Kili X OC fic

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Tw: Bit of angst, but emotionally, Thorin being an asshat again (it’s for the story, I swear)

——————————————————————————

Thorin might seem like an angry person on the outside but inside he’s even angrier.

When Raewyn came back to her senses, she noticed the sound of several dwarves shouting. She quickly grabbed her knives and holstered them back, shooting a quick look at Farris, to see if the owl was doing alright. When she saw her resting on the top of a big chair, Raewyn smiled and gave its head a quick stroke of affection. She then walked back towards the dining hall, resting her steps behind the hobbit, who was curiously peeking through the opening of the door.

"You forget," Balin began, shutting down the sounds the dwarves earlier made, "the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf revealed, twirling a seemingly heavy key between his fingers. Thorin looked at the wizard surprised, causing Bilbo to lean forward in order to see what was happening.

"How came you by this?" The leader asked, bewildered by the key that had now found it's way into his own hands.

"It was given to me by your father, Thrain, for safe keeping. It is yours now." Gandalf said, granting the dwarf the ghost of a smile. Every dwarf stared at the key that once appeared lost. The only trespassing into their old kingdom.

"If there is a key, there must be a door!" Fili spoke up, openly showing his excitement.

Gandalf now pointed to the map, showing the others proof. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

"There's another way in...." Kili simplified, smiling at his brother.

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." The wizard explained. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle-Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But if we're careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar!" A young dwarf spoke, almost making the ranger smile.

"Hmm. And a good one too. An expert, I'd imagine." Bilbo decided to speak up, causing Raewyn to lean back against the wood and look at the creature in wonder.

"And are you?" One asked. All heads now turned to the hobbit, causing him to grow an obvious bit uncomfortable. He turned around to look at Raewyn, but she shook her head and subtly pointed her finger to him.

"Am I what?" Bilbo wondered, hearing the question just fine, but not keen on answering it.

"He said he's an expert!" One of the elder spoke, causing few dwarves to cheer.

"Me? No! No, no, no! I...I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life." The hobbit defended.

The dwarves calmed down, and Balin regrettably spoke up. "I'm afraid I have to agree with mister Baggins. He's hardly burglar material."

"Aye," Dwalin confirmed, "the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Bilbo nudged his head in response, agreeing with the taller dwarf.

"He's just fine!" Kili spoke from the back, before other dwarves started arguing.

Raewyn could see Gandalf trying to speak up, but when he appeared incapable, the room turned dark and his voice grew deep. "Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!"

All dwarves were quiet again and Gandalf calmed down. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose, and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of a dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage."

The dwarves pondered over Gandalf's words for a moment, silently agreeing with him.

"You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself." When the wizard spoke his last sentence, he looked directly at Bilbo, mentally convincing him to join them.

When the hobbit did not answer, Gandalf looked back at Thorin. "You must trust me on this."

Thorin was about to accept Gandalf's offer, but stopped his speech before he could begin. "Why did we need a hunter?" He asked instead. "Why is she here?"

"I will not be joining for the likes of you." Raewyn defended, not changing her posture from the wall. "I'm here to protect the hobbit when he goes inside the mountain, that's it."

"I don't want you on my quest." Thorin spoke, now standing up and turning towards the ranger. Even though there was a reasonable space between them, Bilbo quickly moved out of it and took a few steps behind Raewyn.

"Neither do I," the woman revealed, "but Gandalf left me little choice."

"You will not be going inside the mountain." The dwarf started, his voice nearly appearing deeper. "It does not belong to you."

"It does not belong to anyone but Smaug at the moment. It will be his until someone kills him and reclaims it. If that is not you, I can promise you there will be others." When Thorin took a few steps towards her, she sighed and got her back off the wall, now standing a little bit taller, coming face to face with the dwarf.

"When you have your petty mountain back, you can order me to leave and I will listen. Until then, you have no say over me." She spat lowly, dangerously.

Thorin seemed to agree on this and took a few steps back again. "Do I have your word?" He asked, though he knew he did not need it.

"I could give it to you, but I doubt it means much to you." Raewyn said, surprising Thorin by her knowing speech. He did not appear surprised whatsoever, but instead sat back down.

"It doesn't, but it means something to them." He said, nudging his head towards the dwarves, who had remained silent the entire exchange. When Raewyn looked at them, none of them looked to be insulted or angry. Alternately, they seemed to be calm and impressed. She looked at Gandalf, who gave her an almost pleading look.

"Fine," she sighed, "you have my word."

Before Thorin could speak again, Balin quickly gave her a contract and a quill. She gave him a questioning look, but he raised his shoulders.

"You have to sign in order to join." He explained.

Raewyn had forgotten about the way dwarves handled everything. Very professional, which included consensual prove from both sides. She almost hit her head against the wall in annoyance, but remained standing.

"Does this say I have to protect anyone when time requires it?" She asked aloud.

The dwarf who had earlier offered her a chair denied that, but did speak up. "Nay, but you do have to pay when needed. You would also need to remain loyal to the company."

Raewyn frowned at his words, not really feeling like joining anymore. Before she could hand the contract back though, Thorin spoke up, his back still turned towards her. "It does not state anywhere you are not allowed to leave when we killed Smaug."

"You mean when I killed Smaug." The woman shot back.

"He stole my kingdom." Thorin said, now again, annoyed with the ranger.

"He burned my family."

"He burned half of my kin!"

"At least you had some left!" Raewyn argued. She felt desperate, but would not allow it to be shown. She would not show any sign of weakness in front of the one who caused it. "You must grant me this kill."

"Or what?" Thorin asked, taunting the young woman. She smiled at him and reached the piece of paper out to him. "Or I will not be signing the contract."

"What a pity."

"Mahal, you are more stubborn than most dwarves." Dwalin spoke aloud. Raewyn just showed him a smile.

"If I had a silver piece for every time Gandalf had told me that, I would've been able to buy your forsaken mountain back by now."

"Thorin, you will need her help." Gandalf intervened, urging him to accept the ranger's terms. The leader sat back down and rolled his eyes. Raewyn stood proudly at his unspoken surrender and held the contract against the wall, signing her name under it before handing it to the hobbit.

"We're on, we're off!" One of the dwarves spoke. "It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Balin summarized for Bilbo.

"Funeral arrangements?" The hobbit wondered aloud, terrified at the thought of dying so far from home. He unfolded the remainder of the contract, shocked at the length of it.

"Total's cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding, one fifteenth of total profit if any," he read to himself, "seems fair. The present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to..." he paused for a moment, rereading his sentences as of to be sure what he read was actually written, "Lacerations. Evisceration. Incineration?"

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." The dwarf with the hat spoke, standing up with a smile. Bilbo's breathing became labored, causing Raewyn to carefully take the contract from him.

"You alright, laddie?" Balin asked, noticing the hobbit's uncomfortable stance. "Huh? Yeah, I feel a bit faint."

"Think furnace, with wings."

"Air. I...I...I need air." Bilbo spoke. In the distance, Gandalf was looking at the hobbit in wonder. Not knowing whether to step in or not.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" Bilbo looked at Raewyn, who just winced in return. "Nope." He then spoke, falling down unconsciously.

"Oh, very helpful, Bofur." Gandalf mumbled as Raewyn picked up the hobbit. "Just bring him to his seating area." The wizard said to the ranger. She nodded in response and left the scene, walking back to the room where Farris now lay sleeping.

———

While the dwarves had decided to find their rest in front of the hearth, Raewyn had returned to the hall in front of the door. Her helmet and arrows still lay at the place she had put them, which actually surprised her. She sat down on the single chair that was placed in that space and grab one of her daggers. Instead of throwing it into the door, she just observed them, tracing her hand over the intricate lining of the handles.

"He truly hates you, doesn't he?" Someone suddenly spoke, making Raewyn hold her dagger strongly and whip it to the person talk her. Not even two inches from the tip of the knife, was the head of a dwarf. He quickly threw his hands up and took a step back. The woman sighed, relieved it wasn't Thorin or Gandalf. She could not talk to the grey wizard now. He would baby her again, and she hated it when he did that.

"He does." Raewyn spoke, now sheathing her dagger again.

"Is it true what he says?" Kili dared ask.

The young woman frowned at him.

"That depends. What did he say?" "That you burned our infantry in the Blue Mountains."

The woman hissed, but nodded her head. "That is true."

"Why?" Kili asked, confused at her. He did not understand how a person such as Raewyn would burn down the last weapons a runaway clan of dwarves.

"Because your supposed leader pissed me off." The woman answered. Kili shrugged and nodded. "That's fine. I don't mind really."

"You don't mind me burning down your weapons?" She questioned.

"Not really, no. Our weapons have doubled since the fire." Raewyn's head tilted in confusion, not sure what he meant by that sentence. "Is that a threat?" Kili's eyes widened in response as he shook his head violently in response.

"Mahal, no. Mother would drag me home by the ear the day I threaten a lady." The dwarf defended.

Raewyn chuckled at him but denied his statement. "I am not a lady." She said.

"Then, I sincerely apologize." He spoke, before walking up to Raewyn's helmet. She was going to stop him, but part of her told her not to. She had yet to decide if he was trustworthy, but she felt relaxed in his presence. His figure was less demanding and intimidating. It was rather careless and youthful, something she had seen very little of in this world.

"May I?" He spoke, signaling towards the helmet.

"You want to put it on?" She wondered. He nodded hopefully and picked the helmet up, inspecting the symbols on it.

"If you don't break it, sure." Raewyn concluded.

Kili laughed at her statement and admired the chain mail that hung underneath the metal base of the helmet. "I would really have to try, would I want to break this." He started. "It's strong forging." He explained, slightly tugging on the chains.

"Is it true that this metal comes from the western sea?" Kili asked, now putting on the helmet himself. Raewyn laughed at the sight of him, making the dwarf smile.

"Doesn't it look good on me?" He asked, playing with the chains. "It looks weird without the rest of the armor." Raewyn testified.

"And no," she resumed, "our metal doesn't come from the sea. It comes from mountains. As does yours."

Kili lifted the helmet from his head again and put it down. "And can you really turn into owls?"

The woman chuckled and shook her head. "No. Where do you get all these stories from?" 

"Amad used to tell us stories about your family when we were young. It was much better than uncle's stories. They were all so negative." Raewyn raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Perhaps I should have a talk with that uncle of yours if he truly thinks we're all so bad." Kili chuckled and walked towards her.

"You have. Just a few minutes ago." The young woman shut up as the smile on her face disappeared.

"Thorin?" She asked quietly. Kili nodded his head, causing the woman to furrow her eyebrows.

"But you're not....." she couldn't quite find the words to finish her sentence, so Kili helped her out. "Mean? Demanding? Angry?"

"You can't say that! He's your family." She said, resting her back against the wall.

"It's true! He wishes for me to become like him one day, but I enjoy the freedom I get now." He confessed.

Just then, silence struck amongst the two. Raewyn looked at the dwarf, but he made just as little movement as her to talk. Instead, they just stood there, looking at the door.

"Why are you here?" Raewyn suddenly asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, your uncle obviously hates me, so why did you decide to talk to me?" Kili smiled at her and sat down on the floor beside her chair. "Because you seemed lonely. And just because you and Thorin got off on the wrong foot, doesn't mean we have to."

The young woman shot the ghost of a smile towards Kili before leaning her head back. "You can stay beside me and Fili during the travel. I'm sure he won't mind." The dwarf said, nudging Raewyn slightly. "That way, you won't have to walk on your own."

With that, he stood up and shot a wink her direction.

"Think about it. I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest."

——

Taglist: @m-sterboggins @errruvande

[yandere-sins]

The Fox Wedding - Embrace the marriage (Kita)

Summary: You are to marry the fox spirit Kita Shinsuke after you accidentally agreed to become his wife by signing the deed to your new home. A contract is a contract, he says, but is there more to this marriage than you know? Will you be whisked away by one of the foxy twins instead, or have to marry Kita after all? Can you be with a creature that only seems tender on the surface, or will you try to run even if it might cost you your life? Choose your route carefully, you never know what these foxes are up to!

Characters: Kitsune!Kita Shinsuke x afab!Reader

Rating: Explicit   Warnings for this chapter: Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced/Unhealthy Relationship, Rough Handling, Mention of bite marks, Mention of Non-Con, Pregnancy, Mention of (not human) blood, Monsters, Mention of burns, Verbal threats

“Don’t you remember?” 

He asked you this again on that one gloomy night as you rearranged your kimono. You had gotten good at putting it on, not because you wanted to learn how to do it, but because it was the only thing that made you feel better about yourself. The way Shinsuke owned you was painful, stinging, and tear-inducing, and you felt better not having to see the countless bite marks of possession he put on you. Thus, you learned how to do it. Better you than a maid, or worse, Shinsuke himself. 

“I don’t.” 

Your answer was always the same. How long had it been that you two were wed on that sun-filled, rainy day? A month? Three? Half a year? Yet, he never stopped with his riddles, and this question was the only one that arose every once in a while. Your heart ached with the desire to go home, leave this godforsaken country to be where you belonged - where you never should have left. But of course, it wasn’t that easy. 

“I see,” he whispered, and from the moon shining in through the open windows in your shared bedroom, you could see him nod his head thoughtfully while his eyes focused on your stomach. “You were still so small back then. The smallest human I had ever met.” 

His soft smile was lost on you as you shook your head, unbelieving of his words. Shinsuke didn’t like unnecessary talks. He’d rather have a quiet morning than one filled with small talk you learned. And when he spoke, it was hard to accept what he said. Nothing good ever came from him saying your name. No affectionate string of words sounded like he meant it when he said it in the usual indifferent tone. An ‘I love you’ was quick to change into ‘Mind your manners’, and often he ignored your wishes in favor of fulfilling some kind of clan duties. 

Perhaps, the only moment you managed to catch him off-guard was when a doctor - or something close to that just less human than you liked - announced your pregnancy, but you had been too shocked to be able to react to the sincere smile on his face and the tight hug he gave you despite the news being more of a tragedy to you. It wasn’t the child’s fault, even you knew that, but from day one, you felt responsible for it yet devoid of the feeling that you could love the kid like a normal mother would. 

With your hand falling to the little bump on your stomach, you were glad it was still decent enough to not be immediately visible. Yet, as long as you were aware of the growing life inside you, the more you felt the dread of having to take care of yourself for its sake. There were worse wounds that Shinsuke could inflict on you, and unfortunately, you wouldn’t even put it past the clan to follow his lead rather than step in and stop him. It still made your blood freeze to think back to when you saw the real him for the first time. No, not him. The monster he was. 

It was hard to forget the ashen creature that brought fresh meat for the village. You always thought foxes were small, playful yet wild animals, but that didn’t seem to apply to fox spirits. These images kept flashing before your eyes as you stroked your belly reassuringly, the baby inside of you not yet in need of comfort, but you sure were. 

Fox spirits were tall as bears, and every one of them deadlier than a pack of wolves. It was bewildering to learn that Shinsuke wasn’t even fully grown yet, only six of nine possible tails emerging from his back once he turned into that beast. You could have sworn with his fox form being as tall as you were, he’d be at least grown out, and it unnerved you to imagine what he’d look like once he was. 

Even if he allowed you to pat his fur, nudged you into the affection despite smearing deer blood all over you, it was no less reassuring to know what he really looked like even if he acted like that. You had seen him snap a deer’s neck in two cleanly with his maw. You had heard him growl. And none of this made you any less afraid of your own husband, the father of your child. 

Involuntarily, Shinsuke had made you become what previously had been your worst nightmare. You were a healthy woman, so it was only a question of time until his forced intimacy would produce the child everyone around you was looking forward to. Except you, but how could you possibly be when this wasn’t what you wanted at all?

Even so, you realized the child was just another innocent soul in a much more complicated scheme of his ‘love’. One you still not understood even though he was so insistent that it existed. Nevertheless, you couldn’t let yourself be punished and endanger the little one, always seeing these huge, beastly creatures in your inner eye whenever you thought about running or misbehaving. However, you also couldn’t stop yourself from flinching when he reached over to caress your stomach, unable to forgive and, even more so, forget what all he had done to you.

Tearing you out of your life, your world even, force you into this relationship and himself on you, was small compared to the ‘lessons’ and ‘training’ he made you go through to become more fitting for your role as his wife. Your maltreated body was only one evidence of his ‘care’ and ‘love’ that he so generously had sworn to you before your wedding. There was no ‘happiness’ in sight even after being married for so long. If he thought that child made you happy, he had been wrong.

Answers. Answers would have made you happy - or at least, made this more endurable. 

“Back then, you were scared too.”

His palm clasped around your hand tightly as he began to circle it over the baby bump. He acknowledged your flinching, your fear. Though even if he noticed, he only ever did so in his favor, dismissing it to do whatever he pleased or continuing to force you into obeying his will. Shinsuke always looked serious and talked with logic, you wouldn’t have believed the slyness in all of his doings even though it dawned on you that it was one of the foxes’ main traits. 

“Back when?” you mumbled, wanting to pull out your hand but getting stuck in his grasp, sighing inwardly as you gave up on fighting him. Not when he was so close to the child. You didn’t want to risk upsetting him. 

“Twenty years? Thirty? Time--” Interrupting himself, Shinsuke let out a thoughtful hum, clearing his throat before he resumed speaking.” Time is tough to calculate when you live for so long. Day is day, night is night. Sometimes it snows, and sometimes it rains, and all the other days are mostly the same. Only now, you are here with me, and that makes me happier than anything else.”

This time, it was on you to ponder, wondering about the time frame. There was no reason to get upset about the fact Shinsuke didn’t seem to know your current age, nor how long it really had been. The message ’a long time ago’ was received by you either way. What you couldn’t rack your brain around was that there wasn’t an instance you could remember meeting Shinsuke before, especially since you hadn’t been to Japan when you were as young as he made it seem-

“Oh,” you whispered. Oh, you had been to Japan before as a child, with your family to visit friends that resided in this beautiful country. But you had forgotten all about it, how old had you been? Four? Maybe five? Now you remembered that the reason for your first trip as a teenager had been to see the country you had been to before but could barely remember since you were just a toddler back then. 

Finally sitting up from his futon, Shinsuke moved over to sit next to you, his right arm snaking around your waist while his left hand remained on your belly. “Do you remember it now?” he cooed softly, leaving a kiss on your cheek as he waited for an answer patiently. 

“There was a fox…” you mumbled, straining yourself to remember what happened so long in the past. “I think it was wounded.”

“Continue,” Shinsuke instructed gently, bringing his lips to your temple before brushing back your hair to continue down your neck, leaving pecks of affection behind wherever they wandered. 

“It was wounded, and I… I--”

“You gave me your rice ball,” he finished for you as you struggled with your words. 

“That was… you?” you slowly but surely pieced it together, and he nodded, pulling you closer to him and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His embrace was tight but less formal than any other touch he laid on you so far. A wave of honest emotions seemed to overcome him as you remembered, a voice of relief leaving him as your shared past revealed itself to you.

“But… But--” 

So many questions rushed into your head before you could even utter one of them. How much of what happened was coincidental? Was everything planned? Staged? Arranged? Your thoughts must have shown in your gaze, and though he only looked up for a split second, you were sure he noticed it as he chuckled a few times. 

“The truth is, back then, I wanted to kill you. I came back for you every day, and you were always playing in the garden, but your parents were always around watching you.”

Shinsuke sat up straight, instead now pulling you to lean on him and petting your hair. Your instinct detected hostility in his words, yet, your body told you to stay put and not allure him of the fear that crept up in you. You now remembered the silver fox you had met as a little kid, and though the memories were spare and rare, to think you could have died by his maw back then made a cold shudder run down your spine. 

“I didn’t want the humans to find out my clan was in that forest - now, this forest - I knew it would mean that I caused them to have to leave or hunters would come. However, when you did tell--”

“No one believed me…” This time you finished his sentence instead, and Shinsuke nodded. 

“I couldn’t rest, so I came back day after day, until suddenly… you were gone.” 

“Yeah, we flew back home after two weeks,” you mumbled, explaining it to him despite realizing you wished you had kept it a secret. He simply didn’t deserve knowing even a little bit more than necessary.

“Exactly.”

Gently rubbing your back, Shinsuke kissed your hair, his grip on you unbudging, but there was no notion and no feeling of yours that stayed hidden long from him. “Later I found out that the owner of that house - your family’s friends, I reckon? - were aware of us, and their ancestors were granted land from us to build their house in exchange for keeping this village and residents hidden. It’s passed down as a family secret.”

“And then…” For the first time, you sat up, and Shinsuke let you go without a moment of hesitation. Slowly, but surely everything made sense, even if those answers were less relieving than you had hoped. “I bought their house when they became too old to live there. Was that- Was that all planned?”

With your brows furrowing, you looked at his face, and Shinsuke closed his eyes for a moment thoughtfully, humming in contemplation. “Was it? Who knows. Once I learned the truth, I decided you shall be my bride.”

What a dissatisfying answer, you thought, and your expression faltered, body turning away in displeasure. For the first time since you were married, you heard him make a deep sigh, the shuffling of fabric behind you as Shinsuke inched closer, having recognized your defensive stance as telling him you weren’t all too happy with his story. 

“If we say fate brought us together, then destiny arranged everything. But I rather think that it was meant to be. You coming back to me is because we are meant for each other, [Name].”

“I don’t agree,” you muttered, feeling defeated. All this time, you had wondered how and why this all happened to you, but in the end, it really had just been Shinsuke’s doing. Part of you felt more betrayed, but the other half wasn’t actually feeling impressed by the knowledge. Disappointed, but not surprised, as a friend of yours always liked to say. “Then why the contract? Why set me up like this?”

“What do you think? Do you think you would have married me otherwise? Do you not despise me? Think that I am a monster? I think that’s what you called me before.”

The level of self-awareness was nothing you would have expected from him. Instinctively you would have liked to argue against him, but at the same time, his words depicted your feelings quite well. “Maybe I wouldn’t have thought that if you had--”

“[Name], please.” There it was again, the patronizing tone in his voice that had been the end to many of your conversations before. His arms wrapped around you from behind, lips landing at the back of your head as he mumbled into your hair. “I waited for you all this time, and know my feelings. There was simply no need for a year-long courtship and proving what I felt.”

“I could have needed it. Are my feelings that unimportant to you?”

Gripping his arms tightly, you dug your fingers in as best as you could. You had enough. Enough of his will being absolute and everything centering around him. All this misery just because he decided on marrying you long, long ago on his own. For the first time, you managed to pull out of his hold by your own strength, twirling around quicker than him being able to capture you again and complain. 

“You are a monster! I don’t care about your feelings either since you can’t seem to respect mine! I never wanted any of this!”

Gesturing loosely to him and your stomach, you made room for your anger, even getting up to stand your ground properly. You half expected him to follow, but Shinsuke kept sitting comfortable, merely lowering his eyes and shaking his head. “Calm down, [Name]. You’ll wake the whole village with your voice.”

“What if?! As if they didn’t know how I truly feel! As if they didn’t just turn a blind eye on this situation for your sake!”

“Arranged marriages are very common here--”

“But not arranged by the groom himself! And even so, you still forced me into this, I couldn’t even refuse! You… You beast! You monster! You’re the absolute worst being I ever met, and I hate you! I hate you so much!”

Finally, Shinsuke looked up again, his gaze calm and collected as always. It was the last straw that even now, he did not budge from his views, and you decided to do something you had tried to avoid ever since becoming pregnant. Turning on your heel, you marched towards the door, gripping into the depression of the sliding door to open it. As luck would have it, these kinds of doors didn’t have locks. Thus someone usually watched over you, never leaving you alone, but weirdly enough, it didn’t budge no matter how hard you pulled and tore on it, demanding quietly that it would move out of your way.

“[Name] stop. It’s not good for the baby to get so upset,” Shinsuke called after you, and you just knew he was standing up as he spoke, causing more pressure to fall onto your shoulders. You’d run away. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t stay here. Feeling the door heat up, you jumped away from it, shocked, looking at your fingers while eerie, small flames sparked up at the spot you just touched. By now, you were a little too familiar with foxfire and what it felt like, and yet, angry as you were, it only made you spin around to face him, not expecting to have his face right up in yours the moment you turned.

“I said, stop.”

“Then I won’t listen,” you hissed back at him, rubbing your fingers carefully as they trembled in fear. Never before had resisting him done you anything good, but you reached a point of no return. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Shinsuke instructed again, his patience wearing noticeably thin as you were unbudging. “You go to bed. I am going home.”

Taking a deep breath, he stared you down with those sharp, shining eyes of his, a glare that usually made your knees buckle in fear. You never had given him such a hard time before, normally yielding before it got this far. In some way, it was thrilling, in another, nerve-wracking. 

“I’ll say it only once more,” Shinsuke warned, reaching for your wrist that you pulled away before he could reach it, slapping his hand away in the process. 

“Or what?” you spat at him, as disgusted as you could. This would end here, you decided. All of it: The fake marriage, your submissiveness, the way you played along and embraced your role as his wife until now. The child too, if you got out of this house, this village, and his clutches. 

“You saw the beast before.” Shinsuke spoke his words calm and slow, but his voice lowered dangerously as he kept up his glare unbudgingly. It was just his way of not losing his temper despite you being aware that he wasn’t going to be gentle from this point onwards. There was a never before heard tremble in his voice as he spoke again, the sentence making every inch of you freeze in fear.

Perhaps, you had needed that. One last attempt of being deviant. How else would you have learned that this place might not make you happy, but at least it was the only place that would keep you safe. Safe of Kita Shinsuke’s true nature, the one completely insane from his love for you. How else would you have known that calm waters were the deepest of them all? Deep enough to let you drown in them if you did anything to disturb them?

Maybe, being his wife wasn’t the worst there was. 

“But you haven’t seen the monster yet.”

The worst was Shinsuke himself.

a/n: Thank you for reading Kita’s route of this story, I hope you enjoyed it! I noticed last chapter that it didn’t seem as enjoyable than the Prologues, I still hope that you will move forward to explore the other routes and enjoy this experience ^-^ Let me know what you thought, that would make me very happy ♥

Satisfied?

➤ Go back to the prologue to change your fate

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[fanmoose12]

the devil you know

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert

Genres: Action / Drama

Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?

Сhapter 7/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Сhapter 6

Life had never been particularly kind to Hange Zoe. Tragedies and heartbreaks followed her ever since the day she was born – kicking, screaming and nearly killing her own mother. Her mother never recovered from that blow, her health diminishing while vexation with her own child grew.

That day gave a start to Hange’s life – and to the endless stream of misfortunes she had to face.

Those misfortunes frequented, the amount of bad days increased as Hange was becoming older. But even as a child, driven solely by curiosity and fascination for the world, uncaring of the workings and the rules of the society around her, she had her fair share of frustrations. They usually appeared when her father was around – luckily, due to the nature of his work, he very rarely was. Hange didn’t know her father well, he was always absent, always somewhere else, doing something incredibly important, shaping the future of their country. He was many things - a leader, soldier, hero. But he was not a father. Hange had but a few memories of him, and after all these years she had forgotten the sound of his voice, couldn’t for the life of her remember if his hair was as brown as her own, or had she inherited that vivid color from her mother. But what Hange could never forget, what was etched into her memory for all eternity was the look in his eyes – full of incomprehension, bewilder, disappointment – that he always aimed at her. No matter what she did – excitedly gushed about her studies, showed him a shiny rock she found or urged to go and see the frog she caught, her father had the same reaction, always told her the same thing,

“I expected better from you, Hange.”

Those words were the first dagger that was buried in her chest. But it was far from being the only one.

Her father died before she reached her eleventh birthday. And despite the mourning clothes mother had forced her to wear, despite the endless eulogies she had to sit through, Hange didn’t feel the same sadness that everyone around her did, she didn’t – couldn’t – share their pain or understand their grief. Her father meant something for all those people, but to her he was just a stranger, an unpleasant one at that. When he died, a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Without him, it was so much easier to breathe.

But her sorrows, her frustrations— sadly, they didn’t end with her father’s death.

Once Hange finished her studies, completed her training, she was sent to the outside world, far away from Marley. And for a moment, for one fleeting moment, she was happy, excited to do what she always wanted – learn and explore. But she was not meant to busy herself with research, to familiarize herself with different cultures, she was sent to these distant lands as a soldier, a weapon of great Marleyan Empire. Instead of books and quills, she held a rifle and a knife. And the only thing she learnt was how much blood her motherland was spilling on the foreign soils.

Sleep was coming harder to her after that, her dreams were haunted by visions of red, by screams of pain and anguish. She had become a soldier, her hands made for creation were now covered in blood. Her brilliant mind was now broken by the horrors she had faced.

And so Hange decided to cover herself in thick armor, to hide behind a smile and false happiness. The bad days persisted, losses following after her like a shadow, chasing like an infatuated lover, but she didn’t let it break her, continued moving forward with her chin raised high and her lips curled up.

However, despite the positive attitude she had adopted, there were lots of days Hange considered bad, awful even – the day when she learned just how Titans were created, what price Eldians had to pay for that; the day when she realized that her teacher, brilliant Tom Ksaver was one of those so called shifters, that his days in this world would end abruptly; the day when she received her first wound and spent the night in infirmary, wallowing in pain; the day when she killed another human for the first time and saw the light fading from someone else’s eyes; the day when Wall Maria fell and she witnessed just how much destruction and devastation she helped to bring to this little island; the day when Mike and Nanaba died; the day when her squad perished; the day when she had to leave Paradis behind; the day when she was brought back.

There were lots of days Hange considered to be bad. But nothing – absolutely nothing – could compare to the fucking shit show that was waiting for her next.

___

This fateful day was off to a good, if only slightly weird, start. As always she was woken up by a knock on the door. However, this one was very different from Moblit’s – less rhythmic, and much louder. In fact, it didn’t sound like a knock at all, more like someone was kicking the door repeatedly.

Confused and still sleepy, Hange rolled from the bed and went to greet her guest, not bothering to put her glasses on. Behind the now opened door she found… a shape that could or could not belong to a human. She raised her hand, mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ and darted back inside the room, blindly searching for her glasses.

Once the specs took their rightful place on the bridge of her nose, Hange returned back to the shape that now took the form of a young, blonde man. She trailed her gaze down, to the tray he was holding. There were plates with pastries, omelet, sandwiches, sausages and a cup with brown liquid that had steam coming out of it.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke through her confusion, “But do I know you?”

“Not… yet?”

Hange couldn’t understand if his words were meant to be an affirmation or a question. Nevertheless, she took a step back, letting him in.

He went straight to setting up the table, humming under his breath as he did so. Hange watched him work, not knowing how to feel – puzzled or amused. She tried to catch the boy’s gaze and ask for his name, but, considering the amount of food he brought and how exquisitely delicious it looked, Hange already had a pretty solid guess about the persona of her visitor.

“Be my guest,” he gestured to the table after he finished setting it. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “My name is Niccolo.”

“I guessed it already,” Hange smiled, taking a seat. Her stomach growled, as the delicious smell of homemade food entered her nostrils, her mouth filling with saliva even before she took a fork in her hands. She forced herself to look away from the food, however, directing her eyes at the man who had prepared it all. “Thank you for the food, but may I ask what is the occasion?”

Niccolo didn’t answer right away. He took his time, dragging the chair to sit on the other side of the table, then absentmindedly fixing the napkin and pushing the plate closer to Hange.

She didn’t urge him, patiently waiting for him to start talking. She had a feeling that whatever he came here to tell her was going to be extremely interesting.

And Niccolo didn’t disappoint.

“I’ve spent most of my life hating Eldians. Like every good, conscious Marleyan, I believed them to be devils and abominations. When these people captured me I thought it’d be better to die than live among them. But then I’ve got to know them better, I cooked for them, I’ve talked with them, I… grew to like some of them.”

He took a pause, and Hange used this moment to push some food into her mouth. Just as she expected – it was finger-liking good. And it tasted even better, because she also had an intriguing story she could listen to while eating.

“And there is one person that I like most of all, more than anyone I had ever met. I’ve realized my feelings long ago - perhaps, they were born the moment that I set my eyes on her, perhaps, it was destiny that brought both of us together. And to think of it – a Marleyan and an Eldian. If someone had told me years ago that I’d fall for a devil from Paradis, I’d probably punch that person in the face, but look at me now…”

A Marleyan and an Eldian? Hange had heard that story before. Hopefully, Niccolo’s would have a happier ending.

“I wanted to confess to Sasha for a while now, but the time was never right, and I kept stalling… You know, I thought there was no reason to be hasty. but then Jean told me what happened during the attack on Liberio, how I almost lost Sasha and my chance to tell her how I truly feel, so…” Niccolo looked Hange in the eyes, his gaze shining with the love he had for Sasha. “I came to say thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Oh, what a sweetheart. Hange felt her chest warm at the sight of such devotion. She always was a sucker for a young, tender love.

“And?” she leaned over the table, eyes alight with curiosity. “What did Sasha say? She returned your feelings, right?”

“Um.” Niccolo brought a hand to his neck, rubbing the back of it. “I didn’t do it, didn’t, eh, confess. Yet.”

“And when—”

“Today,” he said, confidence returning to his voice. “I planned a dinner for Sasha, invited her family and friends. Actually… I wanted to invite you as well.”

Despite regret that spread through her, Hange curled her lips in a comforting, gentle smile. “Not the best idea, but I appreciate the thought. And,” she added, her smile turning into a cheeky grin. “I’ll be expecting another visit from you, where you’ll share all the details.”

Hange wished she could see it for herself – Niccolo standing before Sasha red in the face, stuttering his undoubtedly sweet confession, Sasha gasping, with her mouth opening in shock, their audience watching it all with a mix of mortification and amusement. Hange wished she could have the privilege of being the part of that audience, alongside a certain Captain, who would cringe horribly at the scene, unfolding before their eyes.

Hange wished— for many things. Alas…

“I’m sure your plan will work out perfectly, but just in case,” Hange winked, snickering, when she saw red spread through Niccolo’s cheeks. “Good luck.”

“Knowing Sasha’s friends… I’ll need all the luck I can get. But for now, I also need to get going, the dinner won’t prepare itself. So thank you once again.” Niccolo stood up, bowing his head. “For everything.”

“Make Sasha happy, that’s all the thanks I need.”

Niccolo nodded, showing her a smile. He headed to the door, and just before he left the room, Hange gave him thumbs up, wishing him luck once more.

As the door behind him closed, she slumped back in the chair and continued munching on her breakfast, a blissful expression appearing on her face.

So… not only a great cook, but also a romantic? Sasha was such a lucky girl.

___

Her next visitors were just as unexpected, and their conversation - a lot less pleasant. It was in that moment that Hange started to suspect that this day would take its rightful place in the collection of her awful ones. But she was far from knowing just how horrible it had the potential to become.

The moment that Armin tumbled inside the room without knocking, throwing the door open in his haste, and Mikasa trailed after him, her pace much slower but just as unsure, dread settled in Hange's stomach.

"Hange-san!" Armin was speaking in a quiet, but barely controlled voice. His chest moved rapidly, as he struggled to keep his breathing slow and even. Hange swallowed her worry, her thoughts running at a lighting speed. What could possibly have happened to make him so panicked? She chanced a look at Mikasa - the young girl wore the same guarded expression she always did, but her eyes kept shifting from side to side, hands clasped together tight enough to make her knuckles white. "We need to talk."

Hange gave them a cautious nod and stood up from the bed, the book she was reading moments ago all but forgotten now. Pieck's warning was loud in her mind, as her fear grew. Marley... they couldn't have attacked so swiftly, right?

Hange gestured for her guests to take their seats at the table that stood near the window. Absentmindedly, she wondered where Moblit was. He didn't show his face to her even once this day. What could he be so busy with?

"Your guard told us that you had a visitor today," Armin stiffly began. "Mind telling us who that was?"

Hange frowned, cocking her head to the side. If the guard told Armin about the visitor, didn't she also mention that it was Niccolo? The cooking boy had to be known around the barracks, if he was that close to Sasha.

"Niccolo came by, he wanted—"

"You mean, Marleyan came by." Armin corrected.

"Sasha's and your friend, if I understood properly," Hange protested.

"But he's Marleyan. Just like you."

So, Armin was accusing her. And not only her, but Niccolo too. Accusing them of conspiring, but for what purpose? By which means? Against who? Hange was so confused. Hange didn't understand. Armin was always so rational, so coolheaded. What could possibly make him so frantic? What drove him to such desperation, to such wild guesses?

"Armin..." any other time, with any other person who trusted her just a fraction more, Hange would have taken their hand in hers. She'd caress it gently, try to calm them down, but in Armin's state... Hange worried that it'd make matters even worse. "Armin," she repeated, lowering her voice ever so slightly, making it sound more trustworthy. "What happened?"

Armin didn't answer, lowering his eyes - in shame or indecisiveness, Hange couldn't guess. And so Mikasa took the word.

"Chief Zacklay is dead," she said. And if that wasn't mind-blowing enough, she added, "Eren escaped from the prison."

"Fuck."

What else was there to say? Everything was turned on its head - Paradis' biggest defender seemingly had gone completely off the rails. Hange wondered if the threat of Marley invasion was still the scariest crisis the island would have to face. The absence of the clear answer was… unnerving.

“We don’t know what to do, or where to look for Eren. That’s why… Armin hopes that you’ll shed some light on that.”

Armin hopes – an interesting choice of words. He didn’t think, didn’t speculate, didn’t hypothesize. He hoped – exhibited a desperate, illogical kind of feeling. So… it was that bad, huh?

“I know nothing about it.” Hange said truthfully. “As you’re aware I’m not even allowed to leave this room.”

“We know.” Mikasa agreed softly, pressing her hand to Armin’s. “But it’s hard to come to terms with it.”

“He is your friend.”

Hange didn’t understand what they were going through, she never had someone that close to her destroy the trust between them, but she knew it wasn’t easy. Eren had changed, Eren had already lied to them once, but he was their friend, they’ve spent years, believing him and in him. They couldn’t change their opinion of him in just one night, they couldn’t let a few mistakes kill what they had created over the course of their lives.

She couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how her friends felt. Was it just as hard to believe in her betrayal? Did Moblit and Levi feel just as lost and unsure? Were they just as desperate to come up with a reason for her behavior? Whatever they did, whatever they felt, Hange hoped she would never have to learn about it. She was miserable enough as it was.

But Eren knew what his friends were going through, had to be aware of the consequences of his actions, of what he was doing to his friends, how much he was hurting them. What drove him to his decision then? What happened to the boy with bright eyes and big heart?

“Do you have any idea what Eren is going to do?”

“I don’t think it’s Eren’s doing, Zeke is probably lying to him, but…” his eyes were still cast down, his finger weakly tracing some vague shapes, when Armin muttered, “Hange-san… do you by any chance know what rumbling is?”

Hange froze. Her throat constricted acutely, creating a quiet, choking sound. For one second, one terrifying second her heart stopped, ceasing its usual rhythm.

Rumbling? Did she hear correctly? Was Armin speaking the truth, did he mean what Hange was worried he meant?

Rumbling.

A short, but scary word. One that was mentioned in but a few frowned upon books. One that was only whispered amongst the members of Titan Society, too horrifying to speak it loud and clear. The word that meant death, the end of everything they knew about their world.

“We were meant to experiment with it,” Armin explained, wriggling his hands. “Nothing too serious, nothing too… devastating. Just a showcase of the power we yield, to keep the other nations on their toes. To keep them away from us. But ever since Zeke had appeared, Eren became so…”

Even since Zeke had appeared, Eren had decided to act on his own, distanced himself from his comrades and friends, joined forces with his brother. Hange would have believed, would have been convinced that the boy she once knew was incapable of such cruelty…

But Liberio, the heart of her homeland was standing in ruins. And it was Eren’s doing.

She narrowed her eyes, gave a scrutinizing look first to Armin, then to Mikasa. Hange really, really hoped that she was wrong. Against all sense, she hoped that they would drive away her doubts, that Eren’s closest friends knew him much more intimately than she ever could, that their opinion of him was right and just.

“Do you think he is capable of proceeding with it?”

“No,” Armin answered.

And the same time Mikasa said, “Yes.”

Yes, said the girl, who was in love with Eren, who was devoted to him above anything or anyone else. She said yes, spoke it quietly, in pained voice. But without a shadow of a doubt.

Hange shuddered.

She— they had to stop this. Somehow. Anyhow. Before it was too late.

"Eren can't activate the rumbling on his own," Hange mused out loud, biting at her thumb.

"Right," Armin confirmed. "He needs the bearer of the royal blood."

And that was good, that meant not all hope was lost. To go through with the rumbling, Eren had to find Zeke, and Zeke was out in the woods with Levi. He would never get away from Levi, and so the world was safe, but—

Zeke wasn't the only one with special blood. There was also—

Fuck.

"Historia, where is she?"

Armin's eyes widened, a gasp escaping him as he came to the same conclusion as Hange. "She arrived in the town... This morning."

And that was the morning Eren decided to make his escape. Hardly a coincidence.

"You don't think..." Armin began tentatively, his eyes pleading Hange to say that it was a joke, that she was wrong in her assumptions. She wished she could give him that reassurance.

"I don't know."

She didn't know what Eren's plan was, what was his goal, what was Zeke’s role in all of this. She didn't know what means Eren would use to ensure his success.

Would he go to his brother, would he trust him enough? Or would he go to Historia and risk hurting his friend?

And how Eren would get to them? Both Zeke and Historia were heavily guarded - Zeke as the hostage, Historia as a Queen and a future mother. But who was the easiest target?

With Levi being in charge of Zeke, Historia was an obvious choice, unless—

Hange swallowed heavily.

Unless Zeke was planning something too - some rouse, or a play, something that would fool Levi, make him lose his focus.

Make him lose Zeke.

And if that worked—

"Where is Historia?" Hange repeated that question. Hidden in the forest, theoretically, Levi was safe. He could hold his own in a fight against Zeke, Hange has seen him do just that in Liberio, even if some part of it was a spectacle. She also had seen Zeke after Shiganshina, personally tended to his wounds that refused to heal properly because of the amount of his injuries. Back then, every hiss of his was like a melody to Hange, a miniscule payback for the carnage he had born.

Zeke was far away from Eren, guarded by Levi. Hange had to trust him with that task. She had to hold onto hope that Levi would be safe. But Historia... Historia was another matter. She was here, close, and as good as her security was, they were not on par with humanity's strongest. They had to protect the Queen first.

"Historia chose this day to arrive because of Niccolo's invitation. She's probably in his restaurant, along with the others." Mikasa said.

So she wasn't alone, surrounded by soldiers and friends. Would that be enough to hold off Eren? Possibly, although, Hange wasn't sure.

But Eren was not alone, he had followers, the ones Moblit was so worried about. Would they be just as amicable? Would they not hurt the ones Eren cared so much about?

"Historia is our main priority. We have to go to the restaurant and make sure that—"

"We?" Armin interrupted.

Hange deflated. Of course, how could she forget? She wasn't their superior, their commander, their friend. There was no we. She was an outsider. She always were.

"I didn't mean to—"

"No." Mikasa curtly said. "We need you, Hange-san. We do," she repeated to Armin, who was already opening his mouth with a protest on his tongue. "We need all the help that we can get."

Armin studied Mikasa for a moment, then turned to face Hange, regarding her pensively. The intense look of his big blue eyes was unnerving, almost impossible to hold without flinching. There was a man Hange once knew with the same intent gaze. Oh, how she wished to see him again. He'd know what to do in a shitty ordeal they were facing right now.

"You're right," Armin sighed at last. "We might not have same goals or even enemies... but our concerns align. With you on our side, our chances are much higher. So, Hange Zoe," Armin offered his hand for a handshake. "Will you help us?"

An unlikely alliance then, huh? Hange could work with that.

She shook his hand with a smile.

___

Something was turning, twisting inside Hange on the way to the restaurant. Even the air seemed stiff, the landscape outside of the carriage bright, pretty but ominous all the same. Liberio - her city - looked just as lively before it got crushed.

And today, right now, she couldn't get that image out of her mind. The streets she walked through hundreds, thousands of times; bakeries she visited day after day; parks and playgrounds she admired from afar - everything was now gone, turned into debris, into nothing but broken stone and crushed glass.

And all of it - all the destruction, pain and blood and death - all of it was a courtesy of one Eren Yeager, the boy with bright eyes and passionate soul.

Would the same thing happen to another city? To all the cities in the world? To hundreds and millions of—

Hange took a deep breath, stopping herself before she screamed in fury, ripped something apart, overturned the carriage, or worse - started crying.

No. Nothing of the sort would happen to the other countries or their people. They would stop this— this catastrophe and Eren, and Zeke, and whoever else was involved. They would not allow another tragedy.

In the meanwhile, Hange did her damnest to focus on small, trivial things - the inside of the carriage, the bumps on the road, the subtle similarities between Mikasa and Levi, the sunbeam playing across Armin's face - anything to keep her mind from other, much scarier things. It didn’t really work.

"We are here," Armin announced, cutting through her morbid thoughts. He put a hand on her elbow - a tentative, but heartfelt gesture. Hange wondered just how disturbed she must have seemed to earn it.

"Let's go," she shook off all the worries, all of her fears. They weren't needed. They would slow her down, serve as a distraction, nuisance. And today, she had to be on her best. "We have no time to spare."

Mikasa and Armin seemed to be of the same opinion, and so the three of them left the carriage and started moving towards restaurant's entrance.

The place was much bigger than Hange had imagined it to be. She expected to see something small, but snug, something homely. But Niccolo's restaurant was grander than most buildings on Paradis. It didn't quite reach the luxurious and exquisite nature of restaurants in Marley, but— clearly, that was Niccolo's inspiration.

The restaurant - as big as it was - was packed, the merry sounds of laughter were heard even from the courtyard. People were celebrating, people came here to have some fun. Hange knew just how rare those instances were. And she hated being the one to put a stop to it. But she'd rather ruin someone's day and be wrong about her assumption or ruin someone's say and be right, than— Than not ruin someone's day, be right and waste precious time.

The three of them walked through the dark brown door, and instantly Niccolo stood in front of them, appearing seemingly out of thin air.

"Armin, Mikasa! I didn't think you'd make it! And you brought Hange with you!”

The happiness on his face was so endearing, so genuine. Hange was wrecked with sympathy for him. Niccolo was just a boy, who loved a girl, and decided that today of all days he'd make his feelings known. Unfortunately, the day he had picked turned out to be one of Hange's bad ones.

"Congratulations once again," Hange made sure to put on an extra gentle smile, in vain hope that it would soothe the effect of her next words. "But that's not why we are here."

"No?" the happiness was gone from Niccolo's face, suspicion overtaking it, but only for a second. Next came anger. "I thought we were over this," he leveled, glaring at Armin. "I thought we've already discussed everything you wanted. And I'm not going to deal with this bullshit again. Not today."

Niccolo whirled around, his leg raised to, no doubt, dramatically storm out. Mikasa's gravelly voice and a tight grip on his wrist stopped him. "If you don't want to ruin this day for Sasha, then take us to Queen Historia. Right now."

Oh. Even Hange felt shivers at that tone of voice, and the threat wasn't even directed at her. Was Levi teaching her his tricks? Or was every Ackerman just naturally good at being so scary?

Niccolo yanked his hand out of Mikasa's grasp, massaging it with a wounded expression. He didn't try to argue once again, though. And soon Hange, Armin and Mikasa were following after him to the banquet hall.

He took them through the lengthy hallway, past kitchen and washing room. At the edge of it, Hange could see two familiar figures - one tall, another short. They were standing next to a wooden cupboard, snickering quietly to each other. As they came closer, Hange realized that Jean and Connie were holding several bottles of wine, clearly having trouble choosing which one to open.

"Niccolo!" Connie yelled out, waving the bottles over his head. "Which one is better?"

"That's not for you, you idiots!" Niccolo snatched the bottles from their hands, his retort vicious— and more shaken than the situation truly called for. Any other day, Hange would have found it weird, would have paid more attention to it. Any day, but not during her bad day.

So she shrugged it off and after giving Jean and Connie a painfully awkward wave, continued following after Niccolo.

Once they were inside, Hange couldn't help but marvel at the amount of people gathered. There were lots of civilians, none of which Hange could recognize. And among them, there was a sea of green, representing the members of Survey Corps. Most of these faces were known to her. One of those faces in particular swiftly left the conversation he was having, gluing himself to her side.

"Hange-san? Armin? What is going on?"

Moblit had his mouth open, his eyes shifting between the three of them. Hange didn't know what he had seen there, what face she was making, but Moblit didn't ask another question, silently falling in step with them.

Sensing the change in the room, Jean and Connie hurried to do the same.

They all stopped in front of the table in the corner - one near the window and with a nice bouquet standing on it. The table was occupied by two - giggling Sasha, who was retelling some story in a rather animated fashion, and Historia, who listened to her friend with a joyful smile.

Looking at her, Hange couldn't help but be amazed. Last time she saw the girl, she had just become a Queen, still doubtful and unsure in her position. And, although, the woman before her eyes didn't look exactly royally – what, with her simple dress and long, loose hair - but Historia had certainly grown, become tougher, more confident in her abilities. However, she was still as pretty as a picture, and the motherhood had enhanced her beauty even further.

"Your Majesty," Hange was the first to take the word, but after that she faltered, not sure how to proceed further. Should she bow? Kneel before the Queen?

She was spared from making that decision. Because right in that moment, right when she was meaning to open her mouth and explain everything to Historia as curtly as was possible— her day turned from simply bad to straight up shitty.

"You!"

Familiar voice. The anger in it wasn't unusual too. Never before it was directed at her but—

Hange recognized the pride of Marley, the future Warrior right away. It was all she was allowed to do before getting promptly tackled to the ground.

"Traitor! Liar! How could you do that to us! How could you side with the devils?"

Gabi kicked and punched anything she could reach, accentuating her every word and accusation, but the blows were barely registered by Hange. She felt no pain, only huge amount of relief.

Gabi was furious, Gabi was loud. Gabi was alive and well.

A month, a whole month she spent worrying about these kids, only to have fate throw them back together in the most ludicrous way possible.

“Gabi,” despite her kicks, despite her loud shrieks, Hange smiled happily. She pulled the girl closer, wrapping one arm around her, while her other went to softly brush the girl’s hair. “Gabi, are you alright? You’re not hurt?”

“And why would you care?” Gabi suddenly sniffled, voice muffled by Hange’s shirt. “You never cared about us, did you? Only about those devils!”

“Gabi…” Hange sighed, finding herself at a loss of words. How could she explain something so complicated? Something she couldn’t understand herself?

Luckily, an unexpected help arrived.

"Don’t judge too harshly, child. You may not understand it yet, but humans' hearts are tricky things. No rules apply to them, they never listen to reason. They don't act like we want them to. They create emotions, make our lives brighter, and at the same time... So much more confusing. And accusing someone of caring for the wrong person… it’s just not right."

Hange looked up, surprised to see a middle-aged man standing before her. She was fairly sure that she had never met him before, but his eyes, his manner of speaking... Somehow, they were familiar.

Before she could connect the dots, however, her attention was ripped away once more, this time by Niccolo's deep voice.

"Eldians, Marleyans," he scoffed. "All of us are vile, devil is in each and every one of us. We're all imperfect, but all of us yearn to find the place where we belong, where we're loved. We don't choose who these people would be, we love others for what they are, not what they represent, or what side of the conflict they come from. And if loving my enemy is treason, I’ll gladly go down as a traitor."

Niccolo glanced back, meeting the eyes of the one he had dedicated this speech to. Hange caught Sasha’s bewildered, loving look and smiled, feeling her eyes go misty.

So, Marleyan and Eldian? Was a union like that even possible? Four years ago, on the dawn of the day when she left the one she loved the most behind, she'd say that it would never work out. But... times were changing, right? For the better, or so, at least, Hange hoped.

"Hange-san..." Moblit crouched beside her, painfully awkward. "Erm..."

Oh right. Only now, Hange realized that she was still lying on the floor. And that in on itself wasn't so unusual, but most of the times... she didn't have a ten or so pairs of eyes watching her.

Hange cleared her throat. Then, as absurdity of the situation caught up with her, snickered quietly.

"Hey, Gab," she stroked the girl's side. "Would you mind letting me get up?"

Gabi rose on her elbows, considering Hange. The frown on her face didn't vanish, but— her eyes weren't so full of rage anymore - clearly, the speeches had left an impression on her.

"I'm still mad at you," she said, lip stuck out petulantly. "But... I'm glad that you're here. Because it means they're coming for us, right? Commander Magath and Reiner— Reiner will save us, right? We just need to wait for a little longer, until they arrive."

They're already here, Hange wanted to say. If Pieck came, there was no way that Reiner would want to sit that one out— or be allowed to, anyway. Marley was coming, their guns blazing. But in the room full of members of the Survey Corps and Queen herself, Hange couldn’t say that, wasn’t yet ready to betray her country like that. She could only kiss Gabi's brow and promise, "You will be alright."

Reassured, Gabi nodded and let Hange get up. As soon as her feet had touched the ground, Hange found herself with someone once again wrapped around her. This time, however, the embrace was that much warmer and a lot less violent.

"Falco," she carded her fingers through his sandy blonde hair. "I take it you've missed me too?"

"You can't imagine," he spoke, his face pressed to her stomach. "Going on missions with Gabi is a torture! I could barely keep up with her!"

"You'll learn with time," Hange looked back, exchanging a look with Moblit. "It's not that hard to deal with annoying shits like us, right, Mob?"

He tugged at his collar, strategically evading her curious eyes. "Perhaps, after a very long while..." he reached out, patting Falco's shoulder. "And with the help of a good alcohol stash."

"Oi!" Hange slapped his arm. "He's only a kid!"

Moblit shrugged. "He has to know what is waiting for him."

"Don't listen to him," she gently consoled Falco. "He's joking."

Although... Hange had to agree with Moblit on that. If Falco continues running after Gabi like that, he'd have his first grey hair by the age of fifteen.

With the boy still clinging to her, Hange surveyed the room, swiping her gaze across Sasha and Niccolo, who stood side by side, wearing identical, enamored expressions, to Connie and Jean, who were whispering something to one another, and finally to Mikasa and Armin, who hid Historia behind their backs.

Right. She didn't come here for a cheerful reunion. The fate of the world was at stake. Hange pulled herself together and— pulled Falco away from her.

"Sorry, dear," she fondly ruffled his hair once again. "I need to go now, but I'll get back to you."

Could she do, though? Could she return to these kids, ask them to be placed under her care? Should she do it, considering that she didn't even know what was going to happen to her, where would she be one hour from now? Was it wise then to drag kids along with her? They were sharp and strong, more than capable, and they did survive on their own for so long— wait.

How did they manage to survive on a foreign soil, all by themselves? And why they were here today, in Niccolo's restaurant of all places?

"I guess these ducklings are yours?"

Oh. The familiar man that Hange had never seen was back, now standing in front of Hange, showing her a kind smile.

"We haven't been introduced, but it's hard to mistake you for someone else. Hange Zoe, right?"

"Right," Hange shook his warm, calloused hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Braus."

"The accent was a dead giveaway, huh?" he laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He had a nice laugh, Hange decided, deep, heartfelt and genuine. She liked Mr. Braus, just as much as she liked his daughter.

"I understand that you're the one who had taken care of my ducklings," Hange giggled, catching Gabi's very much unamused look. "Thank you for that."

"And thank you for saving my daughter's life. For that deed I could never repay you."

"That was... that was nothing. I did nothing, just happened to be in the right place, in the right time."

"It's only because of you that we're here, celebrating, instead of mourning. So," he gripped her shoulder tightly, his brown eyes staring into hers intently. "Let me express my gratitude, for that is the smallest thing that I can do."

"I think," Connie inserted himself between them, his mischievous smile lighting up the room. "This calls for a toast!"

No more than a second later, Jean had produced a bottle of wine, opening it swiftly and skillfully. Once the bottle was dealt with, he filled a glass with wine, thrusting it to the person standing closest to him. Which— happened to be Gabi.

She took all but a tentative sniff from the glass, before it was roughly yanked out of her hands. The drink splashed everywhere as Falco hurried to finish it, before Gabi caught up and took it away from him.

There was just as a couple of droplets left, everyone watched the scene in amusement, until—

Until Niccolo screamed.

He pounced from his place, wrestling the bottle out of Jean’s hands. “It’s not for you, morons! I told you not to touch it!”

Ice spread through Hange’s veins, as she heard the desperation in his voice. If her first thought was the right one… she had to make sure of it immediately.

“Who that wine was meant for?” she seethed, grabbing Niccolo by lapels of his shirt, suffocating him in her white-knuckled grip and currently not caring about it. Everyone in the room tensed, Sasha jumping closer to them, but Hange didn’t care, ignored all of them completely. “Who that wine was meant for?” she shouted, shaking the boy like a ragdoll.

“F-for the military officials! It’s the good stuff, expensive, it was meant only for them!”

The good stuff, the best one they got, Hange reasoned. The next question was pointless, she knew the answer already, was the one who came up with this idea in the first place, but— Niccolo was a good guy, a sweet boy in love with a kind girl. Hange wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“What’s wrong with the wine?”

And that was it. That’s all she had to do to get to the bottom of it. One short, simple question, and Niccolo crumbled. He didn’t try to fight her, made no attempts to protect himself. He hanged his head in shame, avoiding the dozen pairs of eyes that now were boring into him.

“They made me do it,” he whispered, his hands, his lips— his whole body shaking. “I had no choice, you wouldn’t understand—”

Oh, but Hange did understand. Better than Niccolo knew. She knew how it felt to be forced to follow the current, accept every cruel tide. She knew just how frustrating, how painful it was to lose control.

So yeah, Hange understood. But she could not excuse.

However, she had no place to judge as well, she herself was a reason for so many tragedies and disasters. She couldn’t judge, and she didn’t have the time for it. The deed was already done, now they had to try and undo it.

“Who gave you the orders?”

The spine fluid, injected into wine, came from Zeke, that Hange had no doubt about, but Zeke was far away, deep in the forest, under Levi’s watchful eyes. So who had redistributed the wine? Who was the betrayer, the real culprit?

“It’s—”

He didn’t get to finish. For only now Hange had realized what had happened moments prior. Falco drank the wine. Falco. Drank. The. Wine.

Her heart thumping, Hange pushed Niccolo away, grabbing Falco’s hand instead. Armin, Mikasa, the Queen, let someone else deal with that shit, for now she had to try and delay the inevitable. She looked around, her eyes wild, mind racing. “Where— where is the bathroom or— or a—”

“I’ll show you.”

It was Moblit’s quiet, reassuring voice. He gripped her elbow gently, taking her away. Hange let herself be led, rubbing soothing circles into Falco’s palm all the while. She didn’t know what do, wasn’t even sure that spinal fluid can be taken out of someone’s system, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t at least try. Falco, sweet, smart Falco, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be turned into a Titan, a mindless creature with no loyalties and feelings. Hange wouldn’t allow it, she was ready to do the impossible and then more to save the little boy.

Once they reached the bathroom, Hange set out to work - took off her coat, rolled the sleeves of her shirt, sat Falco down on a stool, pushed his head under the faucet, instructed him to try and rinse all the wine out.

It was possibly entirely pointless, Hange was pretty sure of it— but. What else could she do? Sit tightly and wait for the young life to vanish?

"That thing in the wine..." Moblit spoke up - calmly, but defeated, as though he had already surrendered to whatever tragedy that would befall him. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Hange tensed. Hange jumped to her feet, fisting her hand into Moblit's shirt so desperately, the fabric creaked in protest.

"Moblit," she croaked, her voice shaking, broken, eyes begging him to say that he was joking, that his inquiry was simple curiosity. "Moblit, did you drink that wine?"

"It was served at every government meeting. I couldn't refuse."

No. No. Hange couldn't believe, didn't want to believe it, Moblit— not Moblit, she didn't want him to fall victim to this, become another casualty in her long, extremely bloody career. Anyone else, but not— not him.

"It's the same tactic we used in Ragako village," she explained numbly. "Back then it was gas, this time the fluid that turns people into Titans was added into wine. It activates after Zeke screams."

"Ah," Moblit shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "If - when - I turn, you could experiment on me. Just— don't give me a stupid name like Sawney or Bean, I'd like, I think, I'd like to be called Moblit. If I'd still have some semblance of consciousness by that time, if not - you can call me whatever you—"

"Shut up." Hange choked, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She ignored them, glaring fiercely at him. "Shut the fuck up, Moblit, you will not turn into a Titan, I will not allow it, I'll do whatever I can—"

"Hange-san," he smiled, and it broke her heart. "It will be okay."

It won't. Because it was her damn creation, made to defeat faceless, unknown enemies. And now it was used against people she cared about.

She had to do something about it. With a start Hange realized that the solution was... fairly easy.

"Avoid Zeke at all costs." She told Moblit, urgency turning her speech more frantic. "Don't go near him, try— try to get away if he gets into city—"

But Zeke couldn't get into the city. Zeke couldn't get out of the forest at all, couldn't make a single move without Levi knowing it.

Levi was the solution. He would keep Zeke under his guard, he would keep Moblit, and the rest of them, safe. Hange finally could take a breath.

But the calm didn't last for long.

As soon as she returned to Falco's side to check on the boy's condition, a loud crash came from somewhere deep within the restaurant. Hange heard the sound of hurried footsteps, then a concerning scream.

She exchanged a look with Moblit. Both of them started running at the same moment.

When they tumbled inside the main room, they froze in shock.

Sasha's family, members of Survey Corps and among them— soldiers with rifles. Hange scanned the room once more, her eyes travelling further, to the table by the window. She breathed out in relief - Historia was guarded by Connie and Jean. At least, the Queen was safe.

But not the rest of them.

"Squad Leader Moblit," the ginger head took a step towards them, a too wide smile plastered on his face. Hange didn't like that man and his smile. And the gun in his hands. The gun that was now aimed at the ceiling but could be very well aimed at Moblit, or anyone else in that room. “You’re the one I need.”

Moblit inched closer too, his chin held high and eyes defiant. Hange didn’t miss the fact that his movement hid her behind his broad shoulders. Oh, loyal, caring Moblit. How could she leave him to his fate?

“I’m here,” he leveled to the redhead. “What do you need me for, Floch?”

If it wasn’t for the gun in his hands, or the smile on his face, the way Moblit spelled his name – the obvious aversion, unhidden contempt was enough for Hange to understand that this Floch guy wasn’t very nice. And, despite the Wings of Freedom on his back, he certainly wasn’t Moblit’s friend.

So. That was one of the famed Yeagerists? And the rest of them, the ones that held civilians on gunpoint were the part of the same group? Hange was so not impressed.

“You’re buddies with Captain Levi,” Floch continued. “That means you know exactly where he is hiding.”

“Perhaps.” Moblit nodded. “But what makes you think that I will tell you?”

Floch’s smile grew, and the gun that was held lazily in his hand, pointing at the empty air, moved. It was lowered down, its barrel now staring right at Moblit. But the gun didn’t stop there, it moved again, shifting just a little to the side. To where Hange was standing.

“Hange Zoe, right?” Floch tilted his head, so he could look straight at her. “I didn’t have the pleasure to make your acquaintance before, but I’m glad that life threw us all together. Especially now, for you see…” he lifted a hand, and a soldier took his place, his rifle raised, while Floch paced from side to side. “I’m not allowed to hurt them,” first he pointed at Jean and Connie. “Or her,” now at Historia. “I’m, however, allowed to do with the others whatever I want. And since hurting our dear Squad Leader Moblit wouldn’t bear the needed results…” he spread his arms, shrugging helplessly. “No one would miss a traitor, right?”

“Don’t you dare!” Moblit surged forward, shoulders shaking from the unbridled fury. But he made no more than a few steps, before he was immobilized, two soldiers coming from behind to grab his arms and twist them painfully. Moblit didn’t back up even then, continuing his fierce resistance. “Leave her out of this!”

“Ah, yes,” Floch chuckled to himself, observing Moblit’s struggling with morbid fascination. “The luck is surely on our side today. You will be useful after all, Hange Zoe. We will take you with us.”

No sooner than these words left his mouth, Hange felt a pair of hands around her, subduing and enabling to make a single move. She thrashed, she kicked, but to no avail.

“Floch—” Moblit grounded, pulling on his restraints.

“Don’t you worry,” Floch squeezed Moblit’s shoulder, showing him a look of feigned affection. “No one is going to get hurt, if you cooperate.”

No. They couldn’t cooperate. Cooperating meant leading Floch and his bunch to Zeke, and that meant leading them to Levi.

“Mob! Don’t listen to him! We can’t–” instinctively, momentarily forgetting about the arms that held her down, Hange reached out to him, trying to catch his eyes.

But Moblit turned his face to the other side, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I can’t let you get hurt.”

Ah. Hange’s heart sunk, while Floch clasped his hands in delight.

“I’m glad you’ve made the right choice! And now,” he raised a finger, and Hange with Moblit were forced to move forward. “Let’s get going!”

___

Outside, the weather changed. The sun hid behind the heavy, grey clouds, the rain was now steadily falling down, creating puddles under their feet.

The gloomy weather further enhanced the trepidation inside Hange. The feeling, the certainty that something was going to get very wrong and very fast persisted, forcing her to grab the reins of the horse tighter, in vain hope of providing some miniscule outlet to her ever growing anxiety.

Despite the fear, Hange spurred her horse forward, doing her best to ignore the rifles pointed at her back. It was proving to be quite a vexing task, when the said rifles kept pushing her to move even faster but— it wasn’t the worst situation Hange had found herself in. That time when she and Zeke were captured by the enemy forces and put inside a fortified prison was so much worse. The prison had anti-Titan artillery surround the perimeter, they were alone and cut off from their allies. And still they managed to escape. Compared to that, a few Yeagerists were nothing.

Although, Hange had to admit – the stories did them no justice. In reality they were a lot more vile and disgusting.

But, apparently, Levi still trained some of them. And, boy, did he teach them well. One soldier behind Hange kept huffing, cursing the weather under his breath. Hange waited, and when he once again got distracted by the mud that splashed on his boot, she thanked Levi for his absurd obsession with cleanliness and acted, stealing that little moment for herself.

“Hey,” she leaned closer to Moblit who was riding right beside her, and whispered to him in a voice just slightly louder than the sound of the rain. “Remember that thing we did during Erwin’s coup-d'etat?”

Moblit winced, anxiety reflecting in his eyes. “When we punched people that were armed with rifles?”

Hange grinned. Atta boy, of course, he remembered. “I’ll give you a signal,” she nodded discreetly and returned to her previous position, now directing all of her attention on their fearless, redheaded leader.

“So Zeke is your main goal, right? You don’t actually need Historia?”

Floch scoffed, rising his nose up in distain. “The Queen is a back-up plan.” Wow, getting information out of them was that easy? Some devoted followers they were. Hange continued listening, eager to know what else Floch would reveal. “We’re not sure what exactly is going to happen, and Eren… doesn’t like hurting his friends.”

They weren’t sure what was going to happen. Only for these words Hange was ready to throttle each and one of them. What was going to happen? Mass destruction and death, a lot of unnecessary deaths.

But did these children care? Of course, they didn’t.

And would Zeke care about it? Hange wasn’t sure. Zeke was many things – cruel, violent, heartless, he never cared that much about other people. However, he was his father’s son, and, as much as he had loathed Grisha Yeager, Zeke still carried around the hero complex that his father fought so hard to plant inside him. Was it possible then that Zeke would be against the rumbling? Was it possible that he didn’t know of Eren’s true intention, that he blindly trusted his little brother?

Was it possible that their goals didn’t align? If so… then Zeke was a key player in this game of chess. He was a powerful figure they had to get on their side. If Hange could talk to him—

A loud sound, a crashing bang interrupted the flow of her thoughts, making her jump in the saddle.

That noise, it was similar to a thunder, but not quite. Hange knew that sound all too well, was the one who created the devise that was activated with the very same sound.

It couldn’t be— that noise couldn’t come from a thunder spear explosion. But… what other explanation was there?

“Let’s head there!” Floch commanded. “Something must have happened.”

Hange’s heart raced as they inched closer and closer to the place where the sound had come from. It wasn’t hard to find, the gory sight of the poor, wounded horse and the blasted cart was easy to spot.

They approached it slowly, and suddenly Hange froze, her eyes landing on something near the riverbank. Something that looked a lot like a body – a short one with strong stature and black hair—

“Moblit,” she whispered, begging him to clear her suspicions, to reassure her that she was mistaken.

But Moblit pursed his lips, and shook his head – brief, but resolute.

For a second, Hange froze, overcome with desperation and fear. Her heart stopped too, if just for a moment.

Levi, he couldn’t— but what if he did?

Ignoring the insistent shouts and strict orders to come back, Hange jumped off the horse, scrambling to get closer to the riverbank and to him.

She fell into the mud, uncaring of her clothes, of the mud she was splashing around. She felt nothing, the rain, the river, her captors, it all faded into background. She cared for nothing else, except the limp body in her hands.

Oh, please, please, please.

Her hands trembled as she turned the body to face her, careful as she could be. A bloody mess, her personal nightmare stared right back to her.

And in that moment— Hange felt her heart break, ripping, shuttering into thousands pieces. She thought she knew loss before, she thought she knew what pain was.

She was so wrong.

[themousefromfantasyland]

How the Tooth Fairy Became a Guardian

Extracted from Toothiana, Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies, third book in the Guardians of Childhood series by William Joyce.

In this series, which served as inspiration for the DreamWorks' Rise of the Guardians, William Joyce managed to create one of the craziest and most epic origin stories for the Tooth Fairy. If I'm not mistaken, in one interview, he himself admitted how crazy it was, and how it was inspired by jungle movies he watched as a kid.

The bookworm bowed and told them, “The story of the Queen of Toothiana lies in volume six of Curious Unexplainables of the East.”

“Of course! I should have remembered that myself,” Ombric said, nodding. “Mr. Qwerty, please enlighten us.” (Ombric, the Wizard,and Qwerty, the literal bookworm, are characters that only appeared in the books)

The Guardians sat around the table while Mr. Qwerty began his tale.

“To know the story of Queen Toothiana,” he said, “you must first hear the tale of the maharaja, his slave Haroom, and the Sisters of Flight.”

“Sisters of Flight?” North interrupted.

“Sisters of Flight,” Mr. Qwerty repeated patiently. The image of a beautiful winged woman appeared on one of Mr. Qwerty’s pages. She was human-size, with long, willowy arms and legs and a heart-shaped face. But her wings were magnificent, and she held a bow and arrow of extraordinary design.

The Sisters of Flight were an immortal race of winged women who ruled the city of Punjam Hy Loo, which sits atop the steepest mountain in the mysterious lands of the Farthest East. An army of noble elephants stood guard at the base of the mountain. No humans were allowed to enter, for the mountain’s jungle was a haven for the beasts of the wild—a place where they could be safe from men and their foolishness.

Toothiana’s father was a human by the name of Haroom. He had been sold at birth into slavery as a companion for a young Indian maharaja. Despite being slave and master, the maharaja and Haroom became great friends. But the maharaja was a silly, vain boy who had his every wish and whim granted. Yet this did not make him happy, for he always wanted more.

Haroom, Toothiana's father

Haroom, who had nothing, wanted nothing and so was very content. Secretly, the maharaja admired his friend for this. For his part, Haroom admired the maharaja for knowing what he wanted—and getting it.

The maharaja loved to hunt and slay all the animals of the wild, and Haroom, who never tired of watching the powerful elegance of wild creatures such as tigers and snow leopards, was an excellent tracker. But he hated to see the animals killed, so when that moment came, he always looked away. As a slave, he could do nothing to stop his master. And so, with Haroom tracking, the maharaja killed one of every beast in his kingdom, lining the palace walls with their heads as trophies. But the one animal the maharaja coveted most continued to elude him.

In the mountain land ruled by the Sisters of Flight, there dwelled one creature that no slave, man, or ruler had ever seen: the flying elephant of Punjam Hy Loo.

The maharaja was determined to do anything to have one for his collection, but every time he tried to force his way up the mountain, the elephant army at its base turned him back. He realized that he must find another way to reach Punjam Hy Loo.

In those ancient times no man had yet discovered the mystery of flight. But after demanding advice from his wizards and soothsayers, the maharaja learned a secret: Children can fly when they dream, and when the Moon shines brightly, their dreams can become so vivid that some of them come true. Sometimes the children remember, but mostly they do not. That is why children sometimes wake up in their parents’ beds without knowing how they got there—they flew!

The wizards told the maharaja a second secret.” At this, Mr. Qwerty lowered his voice, and all the Guardians leaned closer. “The memory of everything that happens to a child is stored in that child’s baby teeth.

And so the maharaja’s wizards gave him an idea: fashion a craft of the lost teeth of children and command it to remember how to fly. The maharaja sent out a decree throughout his kingdom, stating that whenever a child lost a tooth, it must be brought to his palace. His subjects happily complied, and it was not long before he had assembled a craft unlike any other the world had ever known.

Meanwhile, the maharaja ordered Haroom to make an archer’s bow of purest gold and one single ruby-tipped arrow. When the weapon was finished, the maharaja ordered Haroom to join him aboard the craft. Then he said these magic words:

‘Remember,

remember,

the moonlit flights

of magic nights.’

And just as the royal wizards had promised, the craft flew silently through the sky, over the jungle, and past the elephants who guarded Punjam Hy Loo.

They descended from the clouds and flew into the still-sleeping city. In the misty light of dawn, the maharaja could hardly tell where the jungle ended and the city began. But Haroom, used to seeking out tracks, spotted some he had never seen before—tracks that could only belong to the flying elephant, for although they looked similar to a normal elephant’s, his keen eye saw one addition: an extra digit pointing backward, like that of a bird.

It did not take long to find the flying elephant, sleeping in a nest in the low-lying limbs of an enormous jujube tree. The maharaja raised the golden bow and took careful aim. The tip of the ruby arrow glittered in the first rays of morning sunlight. Haroom looked away.

Suddenly, there came an intense, cacophonous alarm, as if every creature of Punjam Hy Loo knew of the maharaja’s murderous intent. Charging down from the towers above came the Sisters of Flight, wings outstretched, with all manner of weapons at the ready—gleaming swords, razor-sharp daggers, fantastical flying spears with wings of their own. It was a sight so beautiful, so terrifying that Haroom and the maharaja froze.

Then the maharaja raised his bow again, this time aiming it at the Sisters of Flight. ‘Look, Haroom, an even greater prize,’ he exclaimed.

In that single moment Haroom’s whole life changed. He knew, for the very first time, what he wanted. He could not bear to see a Sister of Flight harmed. He ordered the maharaja to stop.

The maharaja paid his servant no heed. He let loose the arrow. Haroom blocked it. Its ruby tip pierced his chest, and he crumbled to the ground.

The maharaja stared in shock, then kneeled beside his fallen friend. Weeping, he tried to stop the flow of blood but could not. Haroom was dying.

The Sisters of Flight landed around them. The most beautiful of the sisters, the one the maharaja had meant to kill, approached them. ‘We did not know that any man could be so selfless,’ she said. Her sisters nodded.

With one hand, she grabbed the arrow and plucked it from Haroom’s chest, then kissed her fingertips and gently touched his wound.

Haroom stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. All he could see was the face of the Sister of Flight. And all she could see was the brave and noble Haroom.

He was a slave no more.

She took his hand, and in that instant her wings vanished.

The other sisters lunged toward the maharaja in fury. They raised their swords, and Haroom could see they meant to kill his former master. ‘He will no longer harm you,’ he said. ‘Please, let him go—send him on his way.’

The sisters looked from one to the other, then agreed. But they declared that the maharaja must leave all he brought with him. The golden bow, the ruby-tipped arrow, the flying craft of teeth, and Haroom, his only friend.

‘And one thing more. You must also leave your vanity and cruelty behind so that we can know and understand them.’

The maharaja was heartbroken but agreed.

The flying elephant glided down from his nest, and with his trunk, he touched the maharaja’s forehead, and all the vanity and cruelty went from him.

But once these things were gone, there was little left—the maharaja was as simple as a baby monkey. In fact, he even sprouted a tail and scampered away speaking gibberish, shrinking to the size of an infant.

His vanity and cruelty would never be forgotten—the flying elephant had them now, and an elephant never forgets. As for Haroom and the beautiful Sister of Flight, they were married and lived on in Punjam Hy Loo. Within a year, a child was born. A girl. Selfless like her father. Pure of heart like her mother. She was named Toothiana.

The child of Haroom and Rashmi (for that was Toothiana’s mother’s name) seemed to be a normal mortal child. As there were no other human children living in Punjam Hy Loo, her parents thought it best to raise her among other mortals, and so they settled on the outskirts of a small village at the edge of the jungle. The young girl was well loved and protected and lived a simple, happy life until she was twelve and lost her last baby tooth. That’s when all her troubles began.

“Troubles?” Katherine asked nervously. (Katherine is also another book only character. She is friend of the Guardians and future guardian herself, Mother Goose, guardian of the stories)

“Yes, troubles,” Mr. Qwerty said. “For when she lost her last baby tooth, Toothiana sprouted wings. By the end of this first miraculous day, she could fly with the speed of a bird, darting to the top of the tallest trees to choose the ripest mangoes, papayas, and starfruit for the children of the village. She played with the birds and made friends with the wind.

But while the children delighted in Toothiana’s new skill, the adults of the village were bewildered, even frightened, by this half bird, half girl. Some thought she was an evil spirit and should be killed; others saw ways to use her, as either a freak to be caged and paraded about, or to force her to fly to the palace of the new maharaja and steal his jewels.

Haroom and Rashmi knew that to keep their daughter safe, they would have to pack their few belongings and escape. And so they did, deep into the jungle. The village children, all of whom adored Toothiana, tried to persuade their parents to leave her alone. But it was no use. The grown-ups of the village had gone mad with fear and greed.

They built a large cage, hired the best hunters in the land, and asked them to capture the young girl. Among these was a hunter most mysterious. He spoke not a word and was shrouded from head to foot in tattered cloth stitched together with jungle vines. The villagers were wary of him, and even the other hunters found him peculiar. ‘He knows the jungle better than any of us—it’s as if he’s more a creature than a man,’ they remarked quietly among themselves.

But Haroom and Rashmi were as wily as any hunter. Haroom, knowing everything there was to know about tracking, could disguise their trail so that no one could follow it. And Rashmi, who could converse with any animal, enlisted their aid in confounding the hunters. Tigers, elephants, even giant pythons would intercept the hunters whenever they neared. But the hunters, eager for the riches and fame they’d receive if they caged Toothiana, would not give up.

Rashmi, Toothiana's mother

The children of the village were also determined to thwart the hunters. They defied their parents, sending word to Toothiana and her mother and father again and again whenever the hunters were stalking the jungle. Toothiana, wiser still, hid in the treetops by day, only visiting her parents in the darkest hours of the night.

After weeks of the best hunters in the land failing to capture Toothiana, the cunning villagers became more sly. They secretly followed their children and discovered where Toothiana’s parents were hiding. They left a trail of coins for the hunters to follow. But only one hunter came—the one they almost feared. It was then that the Mysterious Hunter finally spoke. His voice was strange, high-pitched, almost comical, but his words were cold as death. ‘Seize the parents,’ he snarled. ‘Make it known that I will slit their throats if Toothiana does not surrender. That will bring this child of flight out of hiding.’

His plan made sense; the villagers did as he suggested. They attacked Haroom and Rashmi’s camp. With so many against them, the two surrendered without a fight. They had told their clever daughter to never try and help them if they were ever captured.

But the Mysterious Hunter had planned for that. He shouted out to any creature that could hear, ‘The parents of the flying girl will die by dawn if she comes not!’

The creatures of the jungle hurried to warn Toothiana that her parents were doomed if she did not come. Toothiana had never disobeyed her parents, but the thought of them at the dubious mercy of these grown-ups filled her with rage and determination, and she flew straight to her parents’ aid. She dove down from the treetops, ready to kill any who would try to harm her parents.

But Haroom and Rashmi were brave and cunning as well. Haroom, who had never harmed a living creature, was prepared to stop at nothing to prevent his daughter from being enslaved. And Rashmi, like all Sisters of Flight, had been a great warrior. As Toothiana neared, they slashed and fought like beings possessed. Toothiana flickered back and forth, hovering over her mother and father, reaching for them, but she did not have the strength to lift them up over the angry mob. Rashmi thrust a stringed pouch into her daughter’s hands. ‘Keep these to remember us by. Keep these to protect yourself,’ she pleaded to her child.

'Now go!’ commanded her father. ‘GO!’

With a heartrending cry, the winged girl did as her father ordered. She flew away but stopped, unsure of what to do. Her ears filled with the sound of the vengeful mob falling upon her parents.

‘Go!’ shouted her mother.

Toothiana flew wildly and desperately away. And as she went, she screamed from the depths of her soul. It was the scream of two beings: human and animal. It was a scream so pained and fierce that it caused all the villagers who were attacking her parents to go briefly deaf. All except . . . the Mysterious Hunter. He screamed back to Toothiana. His was a scream equally unsettling—a scream of rage and hate that was more animal than human. Toothiana knew in that instant that she had a mortal enemy—one who she must kill or be killed by.

But for now she would grieve. She flew to the highest treetop and huddled deep inside its foliage. She had no tears, only the blank ache of a now-empty life. She rocked back and forth in a trance of disbelief for a full day and night. Then she remembered the pouch her mother had thrust into her hands. Trembling, she opened it. Inside was a small box carved from a single giant ruby. It was covered in feathery patterns, and Toothiana knew that the box had once been the ruby-tipped arrow that had nearly killed her parents. Inside this beautiful box was a cluster of baby teeth and a note:

Our Dearest Girl,

These are the teeth of your childhood. If you have them under your pillow as you sleep, or hold it tightly, you will remember that which you need—a memory of happy days, or of deepest hopes, or even of us in better times.

But one tooth is not yours. It is a tooth of amazing power, and from what being it comes from, we do not know.

Use it only in times of the greatest danger or need.

Your Dearest Parents

Toothiana still did not cry, not even after reading the note. She slept with her baby teeth under her pillow and took solace in the dreams and memories it gave her.

Toothiana stayed in the jungle. She began to hate her wings. Once, she had thought them wondrous things, but now she saw them as the reason for the death of her parents. Her grief and loneliness knew no depths. The creatures of the jungle did what they could to help her, by bringing her food and making her treetop sleeping places as comfortable as possible. The children of the village tried to aid as well, but they now had to be doubly cautious of the village grown-ups.

As for Toothiana, she became more and more convinced that she belonged nowhere—not among the creatures of the jungle and certainly not among the humans of the village. She was alone. When she was at her very saddest, she would take one of her baby teeth from the carved box she always carried in her mother’s pouch she now wore around her neck, and hold it until it revealed its memories.

As the lonely years passed, Toothiana saw that the village children lost much of their innocence and some of their goodness as they grew up. She began to collect their teeth, so that, in the future, she could give them back their childhood memories and remind them of their kindness, just as her own parents had done for her.

Soon the children, not wanting their parents to find out, began to hide their lost teeth under their pillows for Toothiana to find. And she, cheered by this new game of sorts, began in turn to leave behind small bits of treasure she had found in the jungle. A gold nugget here. A sprinkling of sapphire chips there.

But you can imagine the curiosity that is stirred when a five-year-old sits down to breakfast with an uncut ruby in her palm, or when a ten-year-old boy comes to the table with a pocket full of emeralds. Once again the hearts of the grown-ups filled with greed, and it wasn’t long before they forced their children to tell them how they had come upon those treasures. Soon enough they had laid a new trap for Toothiana.

One dark, cloudy night Toothiana flew to the village to make her nightly rounds. A boy named Akela had lost his two front teeth, and Toothiana had a special treasure saved for him: two beautiful uncut diamonds. But as she entered his open window, it wasn’t Akela she found. Instead the Mysterious Hunter leaped toward her. From behind his shroud of rags, she could see the strangest eyes. Close together. Beady. Not entirely human. And cold with hate.

Toothiana’s rage clouded her keen intellect. All she could think was, I must get rid of this . . . thing! But before she could act, a steel door slammed down between her and the Hunter. She glanced around with birdlike quickness. The room was not Akela’s bedroom, but, in fact, a cleverly disguised steel cage.

She was trapped! The villagers cheered as the Hunter hauled away the cage. His platoon of slavelike helpers pulled the wheeled prison away from the villagers and into the jungle. The helpers were as strangely shrouded as the Hunter who commanded them was, and seemed excited by the capture. The children wept, begging their parents to let Toothiana go free. But they would not. The Mysterious Hunter had promised them riches beyond their dreams when he sold Toothiana.

Toothiana flung herself wildly against the cage, like a cornered eagle. But it did no good. The Hunter and his minions traveled swiftly through the night, deeper into the jungle. They knew the creatures of the wild would try to help Toothiana, so they carried the one weapon every animal fears: fire.

Torches were lashed to the roof of Toothiana’s cage. The Mysterious Hunter himself carried the brightest torch of all. The animals kept their distance, but they continued to follow the eerie caravan and keep watch over Toothiana, waiting for a chance to strike.

After days of travel they arrived at the base of the steep mountain of Toothiana’s birthplace—the kingdom of Punjam Hy Loo. The great elephants that guarded the mountain were standing at the ready, shifting back and forth on their massive feet. Toothiana’s jungle friends had warned them that the Mysterious Hunter was headed their way.

The Hunter did not challenge the elephants. He ordered his minions to halt and made no move to attack. Instead, he held his flaming torch aloft. ‘I bring a treasure to the Sisters of Flight and the flying elephant king who dwell in Punjam Hy Loo!’ he shouted into the night sky. The sky was empty; there was no sign of either the winged women who ruled there, or of the flying elephant.

The Hunter called out again. ‘I bring you the half-breed daughter of Haroom and Rashmi.’ At this, an otherworldly sound—like a rustle of trees in the wind—was heard. And indeed wind did begin to blow down from the mountain. It grew stronger and more furious, with gusts that nearly put out the torches.

Toothiana knew instinctually that this wind was sent by the Sisters of Flight and that they did not trust the Hunter. She also knew that it was time to take out the box her parents had left her.

As the winds continued to rise, the Hunter grew increasingly nervous, as did his minions. They began to chatter in the oddest way, not in words, but in sounds.

Then a chorus of voices, all speaking in unison, rang out bright and clear above the howl of the wind: ‘Tell us, Hunter, why cage our child? Where be her father and mother? What trick of men do you bring us? What do you seek, you who seem of men and yet are not?’

The Hunter rocked on his feet, seething with undisguised hate. He held his torch high and stepped forward, leaning into the wind. The elephants raised their trunks but took a step back. Fire was a fearsome thing, even for these mighty beasts.

The Hunter laughed, then threw down his tattered cloak. He was no man at all, but a massive monkey. ‘A maharaja of men I once was,’ he screamed, ‘and by your doing, I am now a king of the monkeys!’ Then his troops dropped their cloaks as well. An array of monkeys revealed themselves, all armed with bows and arrows.

The Monkey King shrieked above the roaring wind, ‘You ask about her parents? Dead! By my doing! What do I seek? Revenge! On all who made me thus!’ Then he threw his torch into the herd of elephants and grabbed a bow and arrow from one of his men. He had it drawn in an instant, aimed directly at Toothiana’s heart.

Before he could let loose the arrow, the wind tripled in strength. Toothiana knew what to do. She held the ruby box tightly in her hand. ‘Mother, Father, help me,’ she whispered furiously, clenching her eyes shut. She pictured them clearly in her mind, letting herself feel the bond they had shared so deeply, letting herself remember how much they had sacrificed for her.

Suddenly, she was no longer in the cage. She was no longer a single entity, but several smaller versions of herself.

Bow drawn, the Monkey King hesitated, bewildered. How can this be? He could not remember the power of love—even though it had been this girl’s father who had loved him best—and his own memories were now fueled only by hate.

So the world turned against him once again.

The Sisters of Flight circled overhead. It was the flapping of their wings that made the great wind. It grew wilder and stranger, like a tornado. Leaves snapped off trees. Dirt swirled like a storm, and the Monkey King’s torch blew out.

Now the only light came from the Moon, and no jungle creature fears that guiding light. In an instant the elephants stampeded forward. Toothiana’s animal friends attacked. Toothiana’s mini-selves charged the Monkey King. The monkey army screamed and ran.

The king tried to grab the Toothianas, but he could not catch them. Then all the fairy-sized selves merged back into a single being. Toothiana was mystified by her new power, but she didn’t think on it. With one hand, she grabbed the Monkey King by the throat. It was as if she now had the strength of a dozen. The Monkey King cried out in terror and pain.

For an instant Toothiana felt the rage within her swell. She would snap his neck and be done with him. But the little box glowed in one hand, and the memory of her parents made her stop. She would not end this monkey man’s life. Let the jungle choose his fate.

So she let him go.

He fell to the ground, and she did not look back as she flew up to join the Sisters of Flight.

As they sped away, Toothiana and her kindred could hear the creatures of the jungle do as they saw fit with the fallen Monkey King. And his cries could be heard all the way to the Moon.

Mr. Qwerty then shut his pages. The tale, as it was written, was done.

[bartistic]

Bruce Goes To The Market!

knife tw, food cw, incredibly dumb self-indulgent concept cw, outsider (oc) pov

It is universally acknowledged that a cashier possessing free time, will be in want of an extra task to fill that free time. At least, that’s what James’ managers seemed to think. Privately, he agreed, as he found restocking the shelves to be a most agreeable pastime, one that could in fact suck up hours of his eight hour closing shift.

He was in the soda aisle, debating whether sparkling water belonged with seltzer or with the rest of the store brand items, when he noticed a broad-shouldered man in sunglasses and a Gotham University sweatshirt, inspecting the selection of diet tonic water and looking utterly flummoxed. Customer in need of assistance!

“Hi, how are you doing tonight? You need help finding anything?” Mentally, James winced at the preppy-ness of his ‘customer service robot voice’ as his favorite coworker Stephie liked to call it. Luckily, he’d thrown his voice out enough screaming to Queen karaoke the night before that his voice stayed in the normal octaves rather than shooting into the stratosphere. The man straightened up and looked down towards James, who suddenly felt very short in all of his 5’9” glory. (Well, 5’8 3/4” but who’s counting.)

“Yes, actually. I’m new to the store, could you direct me to where the soap is?” Oh god. Of all the things it had to be the one item James swore was never in the same aisle twice.

“Of course!” He lied through his teeth. “Here, right this way.” Turning, he set off towards the general direction of where the soap tended to lie, with a variation of four different aisles. Luckily, the first aisle was correct, and he watched, intrigued, as the customer gave a thorough inspection to at least 14 different bars of soap. “Anything else I can help you with?” He added, as the man finally selected a bar and placed it in his basket. The man looked sheepish.

“This is actually the first time I’ve been in a grocery store. I’m not usually the one doing the shopping. My—the person I live with gave me a list, but I honestly don’t know where or even what half of these things are.” He held out a grocery list, scrawled in an elegant cursive. It was double-sided. James checked the front of the store, where the other cashier was engrossed in his phone while trying not to appear engrossed in his phone. It was an hour and a half until they closed, and he was pretty sure there was only one other customer in the store at most.

“Sure! Alright, so our first step should probably be to hit the deli, seeing as they have the longest wait times.” After walking the man through ordering Roast Beef, Prosciutto, Pastrami, Swiss, Havarti, Gouda, and Picante Provolone (what) they moved on to the canned goods. “We should probably grab a cart, I don’t think that basket’s going to be able to hold all of this.” Turning into the canned goods aisle, James sighed.

“Caution: Hazard Detected! Precaución, ¡Peligro Detectado!” The store’s resident useless robot assistant was stuck in place, screaming at a small bit of an onion peel that had fallen to the floor.

“Batsy, I swear to god.” James went over and kicked the peel under one of the shelves, pressing the button on the robot to reboot it.

“...Batsy?” The customer sounded somewhere between bemused and amused. Perhaps just ‘mused.

“Yeah, it’s our obtuse robot that only sees what’s right in front of it and makes a big fuss over literally nothing. It can’t even clean anything up, and the few moments there actually is a spill it just skids through it and makes it worse. Technically corporate calls it Patsy, short for Patrick, because we’re Patrick’s, you know? But since this is Gotham, we call it Batsy. Short for... Batrick. I’m not the one who came up with the name, that honor goes to my coworker Stephie. She’s, uh, not working tonight.” James internally began banging his head against the shelves. Why. Was. He. Like. This. “So, do you know what brand of chickpeas your... roommate wanted?”

/ / /

Finally, after another 45 minutes of shopping, they were ready to check out. James noticed the shift had changed while he was away. “Alright, so I can actually take you at this register over here, ‘cuz I’m still logged in and all.” He gulped as the customer began to load up onto the belt. This was... a lot of food. He’d scanned around a quarter when he officially ran out of room, turning to bagging instead. “Let’s get you another cart, actually, so we can load into that without squishing what you haven’t unpacked yet.” He moved to go grab one, but the customer was faster, jogging back with another cart before he could even finish bagging all the protein shakes. There were, admittedly, a lot of protein shakes.

Scanning the meat-substitutes, James scanned his own mind for an avenue of conversation. “So, you mentioned that it’s your son who’s the vegetarian. How old is he?”

“He’s 13. It’s not religious or health-wise or anything, he just really loves animals. Our house is practically a zoo on a good day, and that’s not even counting all his siblings.”

“Oh, how many kids do you have?” It had to be a fair amount for it to be ‘all’ his siblings. The customer opened his mouth as if to answer, then shut it again. He seemed to be thinking. Did he... not know how many kids he had??

“Legally I have... fffffour? Five? Yeah... that sounds right.” James tried to hide the bewildered expression in his own face, but he must not have been doing it well. “That makes me sound like such a bad father. No, I promise, I love them all, I just have quite a few of their friends living with us as well, and I’ve known those kids long enough to feel like they’re my kids too. Not to mention the whole difference between the ones I’ve adopted, the one who was my ward who I then retroactively adopted, the one I’m fostering, and the one who is legally an emancipated minor. And... the one who. Is no longer with us.” James blinked. That was indeed complicated.

“You must have a lot of love in your heart,” he settled on, finally.

“I just h— Oh, #%*$.” The blueberry container had burst open, all over the floor. James internally groaned.

“Oh no! Sorry about that, that’s the third one tonight. The packaging is just... not great. Do you want me to go get you another one?”

“No, I can get it. Thanks though.” The customer gingerly stepped through the minefield as James power walked to go get the clean up supplies. Six feet away, Batsy was screaming at a blueberry.

“Eat your heart out, Mister Miyagi,” he aimed a light roundhouse kick at the button to reboot the robot. Batsy got two feet before it encountered another world-ending-threat, danger level blueberry. James sighed and went to go clear that area first.

/ / /

Finally, almost everything was scanned. James was scanning the bread and rolls as the customer fit all the bags into the two carts, like an expert game of tetris. There were a few hiccups where James had had to explain that you probably shouldn’t bag Raid with milk, or that it was a good idea to double bag heavy items, or that you should wait until the end to put the eggs in (and there were a lot of eggs. Gaston-levels of eggs. Probably to be expected with that many kids in the house. Hah. eggs-pected.) But by the end they were working like a well-oiled machine. James bagged the last item, hit the button to total it, and watched as the customer realized he forgot his deli items.

“I’m just gonna— gonna run and go get those real quick. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Can you fill out the charity question real quick though? Th...thanks.” The customer was gone before James could question him on the fact that he’d used the custom amount option to apparently donate $1k to Gotham General’s children’s ward. It was... probably a mistake, but he’d wait around to check. He turned as he heard the beginnings of a commotion behind him, from the one other customer in the store. This guy’s whole aesthetic just screamed gross, from the white-boy dreads to the Blue Lives Matter gaiter mask. It looked as if he was having trouble at self-checkout. James was about to head over to help when his coworker passed him. He turned back to keep an eye on the clock. 10 minutes until closing. Please come back with the deli items soon. He heard an aggressive murmuring that sent chills up his spine, a distinct feeling of Not Right Bad. He turned back to where his coworker was engaged with helping the other customer. His coworker who was... very pale. Frightened. The customer whose hand glinted silver with... oh #%*$, that’s a knife. Not Good Very Bad... oh hell no, you are not hurting my coworker on my watch.

“HEY #%$&FACE, EAT BEANS!” As the aggressive customer turned to meet the container of garbanzo beans that was currently hurtling towards his face at the maximum speed a theatre-kid-who-never-did-sports could throw, the world seemed to throw down. Faintly, James could hear rational thoughts pounding at the door to his mind, begging to be let in. Thoughts like ‘They’re definitely going to fire you for attacking a customer’ and ‘They’re definitely going to fire you for cursing in front of a customer’ and ‘They’re definitely going to fire you for damaging the merchandise’ and ‘You can’t even throw a ball to save your life, there’s no way that’s going to hit him.’ Praying to Freddie Mercury, Elton John, and all other things holy, James watched as the beans sailed through the air and struck their target true— albeit a little lower than planned.”

Grossface automatically brought his hands down to protect his nethers, apparently forgetting that their was a knife in his hands. He let out a second agonized howl as he stabbed himself in the balls. Blindly, James groped around for more ammunition. Holding out a zucchini as threateningly as he could, he watched as the would-be aggressor ran out of the store as fast as he could with both hands clasping his junk. “Are you okay?” He asked his coworker, feeling his voice echo through the suddenly very-quiet-sounding store. She nodded mutely. He nodded back, then turned back to his register and oH shit there’s His Customer, holding the deli items.

“Nice shot.” Okay, this time he definitely sounded amused.

“I... am so sorry about the beans, I can get you a refund on those or I can go get you some more or—”

“No need, they definitely went to a good cause.” The customer grinned and held out the deli items. Faintly, James began to wrestle with the bag to get to the barcodes. Finally, everything was scanned, for good.

“Alright, will that be everything?” The clock read two minutes until closing.

“Yes, that should be everything. Again, thank you for all your help.” James watched as even with the membership points taken off, the total soared to over $750.

“Alright, your total is... $754.33, here’s some coupons and a survey slip. If you fill that out you get entered for a drawing to win a $500 gift card. Which... I don’t know that you’d need, but. Why not.” The customer reached into his wallet and counted out 5 $100 bills. Then he pulled out a black card. He paid off the total with the card, then handed the bills to James.

“Here you go, I wasn’t sure how much you tip cashiers.” James opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fish.

“People don’t normally... tip cashiers...” and especially not HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS.

“Oh. Well, you were a good cashier. You deserve it. And here—” at this he pulled a crisp business card out of his wallet. “At Wayne Enterprises we could use quick-thinkers like you.” Pulling down his sunglasses, he gave a quick wink. James waved absentmindedly as BRUCE #%*$ING WAYNE walked out of the store. He looked down at the business card. Written upon it were the words: “Call here for an interview, mention Malone and they’ll know I sent you. Best of luck with the current job— BW”

James sat down. The clock was 10 minutes past closing before he remembered to look at it. There were a million thoughts running through his head. Oh my god I joked around to a billionaire. I cursed in front of a billionaire. I chucked a can of beans into a man’s nutsack in front of a billionaire.

But oddly enough, the only question that remained at the top of his mind was this:

This is because I have black hair and blue eyes, isn’t it.

[the-dream-team]

Happy 420! Enjoy a fluffy little 6th year jily fic featuring plenty of ouid and pining :) tw: recreational drug use

Read it on AO3

“I have a feeling the properties of that water might reinforce the Deception Elixer I’m working on with Slughorn, so the next time we go to the Mirror Pond, remind me to bring a jar, Mary.”

James’ head snapped around so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash. Maybe he should have been subtler about listening in on Lily’s conversation across the Common Room, but old habits die hard and he was too caught off guard by what she said to stop himself.

“The Mirror Pond?” he practically shouted, grabbing Lily’s attention and earning him a confused raised brow. “The one in the Forbidden Forest? With a surface so reflective it could be mistaken for solid glass?”

“That’s the one, Potter,” she replied casually, exchanging glances with Mary and Dorcas. “Glad to know your hearing hasn’t been affected by sixteen straight years of Mummy shouting her praises at you.”

A year ago that quip would have bothered him, but something affectionate glimmered behind her eyes and sent a flurry of hope through his ribcage. Of all the ways he’d felt towards Lily, hopeful had never been one of them… until recently.

“It’s been seventeen straight years now, Evans,” he pointed out with a grin. “I know you, of all people, haven’t forgotten my birthday party last month.”

Even from across the room, he could see a pink tinge spreading across her cheeks. His heart soared, remembering a few weeks back when Lily had- with the encouragement of an emptied bottle of Firewhiskey- given an impassioned speech about James’ ‘surprisingly lovely qualities’ and how lucky she was to be his friend. It was the first time, to his delight, that the “F” word had been used, despite months of suspecting they were close to reaching that point. The speech concluded with a sloppy hug (that James cherished every second of) and her promptly falling asleep on the nearest armchair.

It was a birthday he wouldn’t soon forget, and neither would Lily, judging from the blush continuously growing on her face.

“For real, though, Evans,” he continued, “how do you know about the Mirror Pond? I’d think a Prefect such as yourself would know the Forest is off-limits.”

“Then how do you know about the pond, Potter?” she asked with a smirk.

He glanced back at his friends, who sat around the fireplace amused, listening to the conversation. Remus arched a brow, curious to see how James would explain away their monthly trips exploring every corner of the forest, and Sirius just laughed. At least Pete had the good sense to pretend to be reading, despite holding his Divination textbook upside down.

“Doesn’t matter,” James waved, dismissively. “I’m just surprised you girls spend your free time in the forest. There are dark creatures in there, y’know.”

“Are you scared of the Flobberworms, Potter?” laughed Lily.

“The Forest is beautiful,” chimed in Mary as she left her seat by the windows to join the boys around the fire. “That’s why it’s the best place to go after raiding the Greenhouses.” She plucked a sugar quill from Sirius’ hands before settling in on an armchair, a sly grin curling at the corner of her mouth. Lily rolled her eyes, but she too had a suspicious smile playing on her lips.

James glanced around his mates, wondering which one would take the bait.

It was Peter.

“What do you raid from the Greenhouses?”

“Keep your voice down, Pettigrew,” said Dorcas in a hushed tone, swiftly moving to join Mary on the chair. Lily reluctantly followed her friends and James’ heart leaped when she chose to sit next to him on the sofa.

“We get the best stuff from Sprout’s private collection,” Mary sighed. She seemed to be speaking vaguely on purpose.

“The best stuff for what?” asked Peter, unknowingly taking one for the team yet again. Sirius leaned back in his seat with an air of nonchalance, but James could tell his curiosity was getting the better of him by the sudden tapping of his foot.

“For smoking, you posh knobs,” said Dorcas.

“Oh!” barked Sirius, relief washing over his face. “I smoke all the time. I’ve even got a pack on me now-”

“Not cigarettes, Black,” Lily cut in. “We smoke grass.”

Sirius looked dumbfounded, not bothering to hide his confusion anymore, and James reckoned he looked the same. Suddenly, Remus burst out laughing and James nearly fell out of his seat.

“Oh, like Muggle grass?”

“Exactly, Lupin,” said Mary, turning back to the girls. “See, I knew there was a reason we liked him best.”

Sirius whipped around to look at Remus as though he’d just transformed into the Giant Squid. Remus hit him with a pillow.

Peter knit his brows together and let out a huff. “Why would you smoke grass?”

“Bloody hell,” groaned Dorcas, “not the grass that you walk on, Pettigrew. It’s Marijuana. We’re smoking drugs.”

“Like medicine?” asked Sirius, picking his jaw off the floor from Remus’ betrayal.

“Well, technically it is medicinal when you use it in potions, but when you smoke it, it’s a bit more… fun,” Lily chuckled and James turned to look at her. The amusement lit up her eyes in a way that made him say stupid things.

“Oh yeah,” he said with mock confidence, a hand raking through his hair, “we’ve actually been meaning to try that stuff for ages now.” He shrugged, hoping the girls couldn’t peer into his brain and see that he’d never even so much as sniffed one of Sirius’ cigarettes before.

“I’m sure you have,” said Lily, patting his shoulder. Her touch- intoxicatingly warm- acted like a reward for his idiotic behaviour.

“Well, do you have any on you?” he asked, holding her gaze. He let his smile go lopsided and watched her expression turn from amused to mischievous.

She glanced at Mary and Dorcas. “Alright. We’ll meet you in your room in ten minutes.”

And with that, the girls stood up and left the Common Room, leaving the Marauders gaping at each other in their wake. In a flash, the boys jumped to their feet and raced up the staircase to their dormitory.

“Moony, you’ve got to tell us everything you know,” said Sirius, pacing back and forth, a cigarette twirling around his fingertips.

Remus flopped onto his bed. “I don’t know much! I only did it once last Summer with the boys down the street.”

“Bloody help you are,” moaned Sirius.

“But why are we taking medicine when we aren’t sick?” asked Peter.

“You heard Evans,” James jumped in as he quickly made his bed and shoved dirty laundry into a drawer, “when you smoke it, it’s fun. Right, Moony?”

“I guess, but when I did it I just got lightheaded.”

“Oh, Merlin, we’re going to look like fools.”

“We already look like fools, Padfoot. Stop pacing and lean up against the bedpost or something. Act casual.”

“You’re one to talk, Prongs, you’re running around like a house-elf with its head chopped off!”

“Don’t tease him, Sirius, this might be the only time he’ll ever manage to get Lily in his room.”

“That’s a low blow coming from you, Moony.”

“Sorry, mate, you know I’m rooting for you.”

A knock on the door scared the four boys stiff. They stood frozen, staring at each other with wide eyes until a second knock brought them back to their senses.

“Act casual,” mouthed James as a reinforcement before leaping over his four-poster to let the girls in. “Evans, Meadowes, Macdonald,” he greeted. “Long time, no see.”

Dorcas rolled her eyes and brushed past him with Mary into the room, but Lily hung back.

“You excited, Potter?” she asked. “I know you’ve been looking forward to this for ages.”

He stilled, his breath caught in his throat before realizing she was talking about smoking. “Oh, ‘course,” he sputtered. “So excited. Well, not too excited. The normal amount.”

The flurries in his chest from earlier, now mixed with a healthy dose of nerves, picked up speed as Lily laughed and made her way into the room, sitting down on- of all places- James’ bed.

He short-circuited. Lily Evans was sitting on his bed.

Remus perked up on his own four-poster, trying to subtly catch James’ attention, but having a hard time keeping his eyes from bulging out of his head. Sirius didn’t bother hiding his own bewildered grin, going so far as to point at her animatedly as though James couldn’t see what had happened with his own bloody eyes.

Peter didn’t even bother to hold back. “That’s James’ bed.”

“Okay,” said Lily, unphased, “are you giving me a tour, Pete?”

“No, I just-”

“So, we should get started, right?” James cut in, his voice an octave higher than it should’ve been.

“Sounds good to me,” said Dorcas, settling down on Remus’ bed across from Lily.

So, they were going to be sitting on beds. That was no big deal. No big deal at all. James gathered up every last ounce of casual that he possessed to walk over to his four-poster and sit down next to Lily. He prayed that she couldn’t hear his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. Lily seemed completely unbothered to be next to him on his bed, however, and nearly caused him a brain aneurysm when she scooted closer in order to let Mary slip in on her other side.

“So,” said Remus, providing a very welcomed distraction from the thousands of thoughts rushing through James’ brain, “is it about the same as Muggle grass?”

“Practically,” said Dorcas, pulling out a small jar and another ceramic object that looked vaguely like his father’s tobacco pipe. “It’s just a bit stronger.”

“Much stronger,” added Mary, beaming.

“It’s quite strong,” Dorcas agreed, laughing as she packed the pipe with a green substance that smelled impossibly fragrant. “Lily, do you have the lighter?”

Lily reached into her robe’s pocket, leaning against James for a split second as she did so ( Merlin have mercy ), and handed over a well-loved Muggle lighter.

“Technically we could use our wands,” said Dorcas, producing a flame from the plastic and lighting up the green substance. She breathed in through the pipe, waited a moment, then exhaled. “But, when in Rome…”

She passed the pipe to Mary, who repeated the process and moved it on to Lily. James had been so caught up by Lily’s leg bumping up against his own, that he barely noticed how quiet his friends were as the girls blew smoke around their dorm. When he looked up, he noticed Sirius intently staring from Mary to Lily, trying to pick up any tips on how smoking this “grass” worked. As Lily placed the pipe in James’ hand, he wondered if he should have done the same.

“Er, okay,” he said, staring at the pipe. He brought the ceramic piece up to his mouth, like Lily had done before ( Holy Merlin, she just had her lips exactly where his were now ), and hit the little plastic button on the lighter. Nothing happened. He flicked the button multiple times, but the flame wouldn’t come.

“Oh, of course, you’ve never used a Muggle lighter!” Lily grabbed the plastic from his hand and switched the flame into life before his eyes. “Keep it to your mouth, I’ll light it for you.”

She did just that, leaning over to reach the pipe, her fingers so close to his face, she accidentally brushed the tip of his nose, sending his stomach swooshing. And just when he thought he couldn’t get luckier, she put her hand over his to demonstrate how to hold the pipe properly and cover the little hole that let air in. She was warm and soft and smelled so nice that he instinctively breathed in deeply, forgetting all the smoke piling in his throat.

The coughing came in sputters, then gasps. He’d never coughed so much in his life.

Thankfully the sounds of him hacking covered the fits of giggles from the girls and once his own coughs subsided, Peter had managed to pick up where he’d left off. Remus was able to hold his own okay, but Sirius nearly fell off the bed after doubling over from choking so badly.

The pipe traveled around the circle of sixth years, their coughs became less frequent, and the rigidity that plagued the beginning of the night burned away with the funny smelling plant. James barely noticed anymore how he had let his leg relax against Lily’s. Barely.

He looked up to Sirius and pointed to his leg as if to say “Can you believe this is happening right now?” Sirius’ eyes didn’t follow where he signaled, but he nodded all the same, a glaze covering his pupils.

Remus was sprawled out on his back, staring at the ceiling, and occasionally asking questions.

“Is the Giant Squid lonely or just alone? Is there a difference? Are bones the only thing preventing our muscles from acting like tongues?”

Peter just stared, unblinking, towards the door, then back down to his stomach, and back to the door. He interrupted Mary, Dorcas, and Lily attempting a three-part harmony (badly) to say, “I feel like I could chew for a hundred kilometers.”

“Snacks?” squealed Mary, hopping off the bed.

“Snacks!” responded Lily. She grabbed James’ arm, dragging him to his feet. He thought about how he would let her drag him off a cliff if she wanted to. Maybe he should tell her.

He followed Lily down the staircase, through the Common Room, and into the corridors, all the while thinking of the cliffs she might lead him to in the near future.

“Should we watch out for Peeves?” squealed Pete from behind, but James just laughed.

“No worries, Wormy, we’re under the cloak. He won’t see us.”

“Prongs,” said Sirius, laying a hand on his shoulder, “I hate to break it to you, mate, but we aren’t using the cloak.”

James looked around as if seeing his surroundings for the first time. “Blimey!” he laughed. “Would you look at that!”

“Potter,” whispered Lily rather loudly between fits of giggles, “ you can’t shout, we’ll be late to the kitchens! ”

How stupid of him to forget! But when Lily held up a finger and pressed it to his lips while she shushed him, he thought he ought to forget everything he’s ever known if it meant getting her skin directly on his mouth. Maybe he should tell her.

“Do the paintings move when we can’t see them?” came Remus’ lofty voice from several meters ahead of them.

“That’s an excellent question,” Lily said, still whispering. The way she beamed up at James made his whole head spin. “ Personally, I’d like to find out how the paintings work. ”

“I actually know the answer to that one,” James said, his cheeks painful from smiling so wide. Lily looked up at him with eager eyes. “It’s magic.”

“James Potter you twat!” she gasped, punching his arm and running ahead to stand next to Remus at the top of the moving staircase. He watched her link arms with Moony and follow his gaze up to a massive portrait.

“I know exactly how you feel, mate,” said Sirius, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

“Do you, Pads?”

“Happy.”

“Yeah, actually.”

Sirius gave him a long, hard look. “That prank is going to work out so well.”

James paused. “What prank?”

“The one I just thought of. It’s gonna be really good, I’ll tell you about it when we get back to the room. Don’t let me forget.” And with that, Sirius wandered over to join the rest of the group in front of the large portrait.

What was so great about that painting that it warranted all his friends drooling over it?

As he moved closer, it became quite clear that this was actually the most beautiful piece of art that had ever been made. Tall grass danced in a draftless wind, carrying brushstrokes of flower petals over taught canvas. Colors moved together like schools of fish flowing separately, but together, creating life out of something as still as darkness.

“It looks like you, Prongs,” said Remus softly and James wondered if he too could see the energy vibrating off the paint. But then he looked a little harder and saw the majestic stag staring back from the other side of the frame.

“James looks like a deer?” asked Lily, still whispering.

“It’s his soul,” said Sirius. There were no further questions.

Peter whined about his stomach growling and the others mumbled in agreement, moving on from the portrait on the top of the stairs.

But not James. He stayed, glued to the floor, marveling at the way a single hand could create an entire world on a blank page, drawn in by the stag and how watching him reminded James of looking in a mirror and meeting a new friend all at once.

“Your soul looks nice,” said a voice off to the side. Lily had stayed. James had hoped she would stay, but he had been too scared to look. But she was still there and moving closer as a smile stretched across his lips.

“Thanks,” he said. He looked down to meet her eyes, so clear and bright he could make out the reflection of antlers deep within her irises. “I see your soul there, too.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he continued. “Your eyes are brushed into the leaves and the sunlight is stroked with your hair. You’re in the wind because you’re here and you’re on your way at the same time.”

“You’re funny, James Potter.”

It was the most poetic thing he’d ever heard.

He opened his mouth to respond, but a flash of mocha brown caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see a beautiful, graceful doe stepping into the frame, joining the stag.

“There I am,” said Lily and her words sounded like music.

James could have floated away in that moment. She was so beautiful and he was high as a cloud, wondering how he’d ever be able to contain these emotions once he was back on the ground. He looked at the painting like a crystal ball and wondered if his future could be immediately ahead of him. He had to find out. Did Lily want to learn, too?

He reached down and grabbed her hand, thrilled that she didn't let go, and realized what he had to do. How he could show her all their possibilities.

James took a deep breath, gripped Lily’s hand, and lunged forward, pulling her with him directly into the wall. He rammed headfirst into the canvas and bounced backwards onto the floor with Lily toppling after him.

“What just happened?” asked Lily, wheezing from the floor beside him.

He turned his head to catch her eye. “I thought I could take us into the painting.”

After a beat, Lily burst into laughter and James followed close behind. Giggles crashed over them like waves he wouldn’t mind drowning in.

“I think we need some snacks,” said Lily, standing up and pulling James with her. She didn’t let go of his hand once they made it to their feet. He felt her warmth rush up his arm, igniting his nerve endings with happiness and excitement and hope. A hope that he knew he could live in for the rest of his life as long as she was on the other end of it.

Maybe he should tell her.

[sokkas-honour]

3 with sokka for your spotify wrapped playlist writing thingy? Also hii hehe i just found your blog 5 seconds ago NICE TO MEET YOUUU

it’s lovely to meet you too! (i prepared these a while ago but tysm for being so supportive of my blog!!)

affluenza - sokka x reader

pairing: sokka x fem!reader (it’s more platonic than anything)

wc: 2.7k

notes/warnings: again, i’m only really using the theme of this song instead of the lyrics. for warning, misogyny?? a bit of neglect

-

growing up a princess was already hard to begin with, but being the younger sister to the nation’s favourite royal was even worse. constantly being in her shadow, being ignored by parents and just being blindly spoiled. you were lucky, you could get whatever you wanted except for your parent’s own attention and affection.

ever since you turned the age of ten, you were quick to notice that you weren’t your parent’s favorite so you would try and do whatever you could to be the star in their eyes. you trained everyday in order to improve your water bending, your warrior skills, just anything that could make you stand out and get your parents to notice you more. but alas, you weren’t the crown princess, the most beautiful girl in the northern water tribe.

it came to a point where, around your fifteenth birthday, you were starting to loose motivation for things in general. all of your work had payed off, you had mastered every healing form and had even gotten secret lessons from local boys trying to use you to get to yue, you had everything you could want except for the one thing you desperately needed. so you started isolating yourself a bit more, the rest of the nation forgetting about you even more.

your isolation changed when you heard of the avatar having arrived in your tribe and suddenly, you desperately wanted to get to know them. if you befriended the avatar and even joined him on his voyage, you might just finally get your parent’s stamp of approval. it was the first thing in months to give you any sort of motivation.

during the dinner that your dad threw for the guests and to honour your sister’s birthday, you had managed to find a spot next to the southern watertribe girl and you two hit it off immediately. bonding over shared experiences as younger siblings.

“yeah it does hurt a bit to have practically mastered all your water bending forms and not get a congratulations from your parents.” was your comment as the two of you spoke about sometimes feeing as thought you’re living in your older sibling’s shadow. what you said seemed to have done something to the girl who’s name you learned was katara.

“you’re a waterbender?” she asked bewildered. her eyes looking at you with excitement and wonder.

“yeah, one of the best in the tribe if i do say so myself.” you joked lightly, a bit confused at her tone.

“i’m a waterbender too! do you think you could teach me a few things?” she excitedly asked, a huge grin on her face. you nodded and finished swallowing your pickled fish that had been prepared by the best chefs in town.

“i mean sure but i’m not sure what i could teach you. i’m basically a master but i wouldn’t say that i’m too far ahead from other people my age.” you responded, explaining to the girl from your sister tribe that you may not be able to teach her much.

“oh, where i come from, i’m the last waterbender. so i’ve never had any actual training.” her gaze averted from yours and you instantly regretted what you said, feeling horrible at your assumption. you were used to being surrounded by waterbenders and had no idea what she must’ve been going through.

“i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have said that. if you need anyone to show you some water bending forms, i’m more than happy to. but i’m sure you’ll get more from master yagoda.” you searched for her hand and gave it a little squeeze, she turned her head to smile at you which you returned a comforting one back.

“why not master paku?” she inquired, slightly confused at not hearing the name of the respected master she had heard about at one point during the dinner.

“master paku teaches warrior waterbending skills, girls aren’t allowed to learn those techniques, only healing.” you explained, gaze faltering slightly. you hated your tribe’s costume which is why you always tried to rebel in your own way, but she didn’t need to know that yet.

“why? that’s stupid!” she exclaimed, removing her hand from yours to hit her closed fists on the table in annoyance, thankfully not drawing any attention.

“i know! but it’s tradition and the old farts who control this town hate breaking tradition, even my father won’t break it for me!” you explained, giving a small glance to your father who spoke to one of his councilmen.

“maybe he’ll change his mind if i’m with the avatar! we might even convince him to train you!” she suggested, optimism laced in her words but you simply shrugged your shoulders.

“you can try but i wouldn’t get your hopes up. if you do though, make sure to come get me.” you blankly responded, not wanting to give her any false sense of joy.

the rest of the dinner went by nicely, her telling stories about her adventure with the avatar and her brother, who’s name you learned to be sokka. he even inserted himself in the conversation once or twice, making you laugh at his comments. the night had to end eventually, and for yue and yourself, it meant you two have to leave before the party ended.

“y/n, i think i may have a problem.” yue nervously started when you were both alone. “that southern water tribe boy, he.”

“he’s hilarious?” you finished her sentence, a knowing smile on your lips.

“yeah, and i’m scared i might be catching feelings for him. he even suggested to do something together.” she explained, hand grabbing yours nervously, looking to you for advice on what she should do. no matter how much your parents favoured yue on every way, there was so way you could ever hate her or hold your parents’ doings against her.

“oh come on yue, talking to him won’t hurt you. if anything, not talking to him will hurt him.” you joked, placing your hand on top of hers to give more weight to your words.

“i suppose so.” she smiled, most likely thinking about him and the way he made her feel. your smirk never left your face as you watched the way he made her feel.

the next day, you ran into katara and aang as they went to visit master paku to try and convince him to train the both of them. you were going on a simple walk, hoping to run into them.

“y/n, want to come with us to master paku?” katara immediately asked once you were in proximity to the tow of them.

“not sure you’ll be able to convince them but i’d love to either way.” you smiled, waving hello to the avatar.

“well we’re going to try.” aang backed up katara’s optimism which was slightly sad to see as you knew the ending, you had experienced it yourself.

and like you predicted, their attempt to get the old master to go against outdated traditions proved useless. it ended in katara yelling at his misogynistic attitude and giving up to go sit in on a healing session. you decided to join her, knowing it was useless to you but it was nice to a get a refresher nonetheless.

once it ended, you were left to deal with an annoyed katara as aang was still training. you admired her for standing up to him, wishing you had the confidence that she had but you had given up fighting traditions a long time ago when you realised it was useless.

“listen, i’m sorry katara. if you want though, i can show you around town.” you tried to cheer her up but she seemed to agree with no enthusiasm.

during your tour, you made sure to give as many details as you could to the girl from your sister tribe but it didn’t do much to make her smile. her attitude did change though when the both of you ran into her older brother, a lovestruck emotion on his face which immediately led you to conclude he had seen your sister, and you were right.

“we’re meeting tonight at the same bridge we saw each other! yue and i!” was the first he said when he approached the two of you, more directed to his sister.

“really sokka? that’s great!” katara’s mood seemed to change to happiness for her brother. she then turned to you, surprisingly. “you know, maybe yue said something to y/n. did she?”

“why would yue tell her something?” sokka stopped you from answering, taking you slightly aback. his rather none accusing question hurt you more than you’d care to admit.

“i beg your pardon?” you were slightly offended at his question, more hurt but that wasn’t the tone that you wanted to show, knowing that showing hurt was more of a weakness than anything. at least in your household, your parents only seemed to notice your negative attitude when it came out. a comment made by a schoolmate hurt you and when you came home crying, you were simply neglected as yue had come home earlier and your parents were engrossed in her story. you had tried to come to them but were simply ignored. since then, you’ve only ever shown emotions theyd deem negative to your sister.

“sokka, you met her last night. she’s the second princess of the northern water tribe!” katara harshly whispered as you calmed yourself down, making a mental note to thank your new friend.

“yue has a sister? what did she say about me?” his confusion turned to excitement as he practically rushed into your face, too close for your liking.

“yes, and what do you think you’ll get out of me?” you smirked slightly, putting your hand on his chest to push him out of your face.

“i don’t know, what does a princess need?” he questioned. letting your hand linger before you dropped it.

“warrior training.” katara observed as you narrowed your eyes, the smirk still on your lips as you surprised the rather bold boy.

“why would you need warrior training?”

“because, i want to. my father refuses to let me train but i’ve found ways. yue told me you’re supposedly the best warrior in your village and i want some.” you defied his expectations, he assumed you’d probably be drastically different from your sister in a bad way but he was wrong.

“deal, you tell me what yue thinks of me and i’ll teach you a couple of things i know.” he was quick to agree, willing to do anything to know what the crown princess thought of him. you took your hand out to shake on it and he did, both of you looking each other in the eyes in defiance, hands lingering in each other’s grip.

katara giggled at the interaction which brought the two of you out of your stare and let go of each other’s hands.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully yue will tell me more after your little rendezvous today.” you told him before turning your attention back to katara, seeing as though she was with her brother now, she’d be fine on her own. “i’ll see you tomorrow around the healing hut early tomorrow?”

she nodded before you waved the two of them goodbye and walked back towards the palace, looking forward to your first session with sokka.

the next day was pretty eventful, finding out that katara and aang had gone against paku’s rules, meaning that he refused to continue raining the avatar. you found out right before leaving for the session with yagoda and decided to stick around when katara defied him. and by the end of that whole fiasco, she was able to convince him to let her train with him.

after that happened, you immediately went to your father to beg him to let you join paku’s clas but you were met with a wall.

“absolutely not, the times may be changing but i’d rather none of my daughters do anything too dangerous. you still need to finish mastering healing.” was his response, leaving you in complete disbelief. you had mastered every healing form a couple of months ago and he didn’t know.

yue tried to comfort you but you ignored him, deciding to walk around town to calm down. you knew that if yue was the waterbender, she’d be able to do whatever she wanted. even if she was their fragile little girl.

the day went by rather fast, and before you knew it, you were following katara in secret to watch the first ever girl receive training from a master in the northern water tribe. you made sure to not make your presence too noticeable, even if the majority of people didn’t notice you most of the time. you watched in complete awe of her raw skill, wishing that you were right there next to her, having something to make you stand out from your family.

when the afternoon came, you made your way to where the three of them was staying in order to complete your deal with sokka.

“hey y/n, did you find out anything about yue?” was his greeting which earns a little eye roll from you.

“didn’t she tell you that she was engaged?” you said rather harshly, regretting as you saw him look down sadly. “listen sokka, she can’t love you but she does. she’s tied to our ridiculous customs, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.” he took a deep breath in and let it go before meeting your eyes that were soft, matching them with a small smile. “ready to get started?”

“more than ready. my stupid father didn’t want me joining katara today so i need to let out some sort of aggression.” your tone clearly annoyed at your father which confused sokka, yue didn’t seem to have any problems with her parents.

“i don’t know if this is my place to ask, but why do you seem to hate your father so much?” he asked, curious to know.

“this is nothing against my sister, i love her to bits. it’s my parents i have problems with, they just cast me aside. all of their attention has always been on yue, hell everyone in this stupid tribe only cares about yue! i’m supposed to just be unnoticeable according to my parents yet they shame me for not being as special as yue! i mastered every single healing form and i even managed to learn a couple of fighting stances, yet it’s still not enough.” you let yourself go, deciding to dump all of your problems on the poor boy who had to hear your practically yell at the end. “sorry, you probably didn’t want to know all of that.” you joked nervously.

“no, no its okay. i just figured that being yue’s sister would be like the best thing. i mean being royalty makes your life basically perfect and i mean, she’s one of the sweetest girls i’ve ever met!” sokka ranted, not exactly being what you wanted to hear.

“yeah, i have everything i could ever want but my parent’s attention.” you laughed in disbelief at how ridiculous your situation was.

“you know what?” a silence had settle after your uncomfortable laugh but he was the first to speak, excitement in his voice as he voiced the idea in his head. “what if you joined us to defeat the firelord and travel with the avatar? that’s sure to get your parents to notice!”

“you barely know me and i haven’t actually spoken with the avatar, what makes you think that i’d fit your little team?” you were skeptic at his proposition, loving the idea but not being sure he was thinking it through.

“from what katara’s told me, you’d be perfect for us! katara could teach you what she learns with paku on the road, i could teach you what i know and you could be our own healer!” he excitedly thought about the idea of having someone else on his team, even if you weren’t the sibling he fell for, he still took a liking to you after your first conversation.

“well then, come fetch me before you leave. my parents won’t notice me gone so there won’t be any problems.” you concluded, you yourself getting excited at the idea of finally doing something that might make you stand out to your parents.

“great! now let’s get started.” he opened the door, a huge smile on his face.

“if you were at all interested, she thought you were a pretty good kisser.” you added before he could start teaching you any of his skills.

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[eruanna1875]

“Hope the stories are cool.”

At the half-murmured words, Ben turned to their source in the passenger seat beside him, brow furrowed. “What was that?”

Riley, staring out the window of Patrick’s weird-smelling car at the night around them, seemed surprised at the question. “Hm?” When he looked at Ben, however, it was clear he hadn't realized he'd said anything aloud until that moment. “Oh! Uh—" He shrugged it off with a nonchalant grin, turning away again. “Uh, nothing. Sorry.”

Oh, you’re not getting off that easy, Ben thought. “What’d you say? What stories?”

Riley rolled his eyes. “Ben—”

“No, no,” he interrupted, before a snide remark could be made, “I heard ‘stories’ and ‘cool’. Now, what cool stories were you talking about?”

Riley gave him perhaps half of a death glare, and for a moment, Ben thought he was going to ignore the question. But then he sulked back against his seat, and seemed to give in. “Well—” He scoffed, eyes on the ceiling. “Ours, I guess. I mean, we just stole the Declaration of Independence, Ben! The Declara—do you have any idea what this means?”

Ben frowned: maybe he was avoiding the question after all. “Yes, I think you've given me several ideas of the things this could possibly mean.” Besides, I thought you’d be worried out at this time of night, he added mentally.

“Yeah, but I'm not talking about going to prison, and Ian shooting us, and Abigail doing a lot more than slapping and shouting if we screw it up. She’ll probably… I dunno, impale us with those pointy heels or something.” He picked up an old neck pillow (he’d knocked it off the seat when he first climbed up front), and put it in his lap. “You know, maybe that’s why the spy chicks in the movies wear them all the time—if you can get used to running around and doing all those acrobatics in them, they can double as a lethal weapon.”

“Well, what are you talking about, then?” Ben pressed before the conversation could get too far off base: Riley could easily and resourcefully use the smallest sidetrack to avoid a topic he didn’t want to talk about. Kid was practically an escape artist.

“I’m talking about America. They're not gonna let us off with a simple little life sentence. They're gonna have us pegged even after we're dead.”

Ben bit back a comment about him watching too many ghost hunter shows, opting for the simpler, “How do you mean?”

Riley turned to fix blue eyes firmly on Ben; eyes that, to his surprise, he now saw were grounded in a gravity greater than worry. “Ben… whether we win or not, we’re gonna be locked up for basically the rest of time. Why?”

He leaned in closer, and spoke with such certainty, Ben had to suppress a shiver.

“Because we’re going to be in all the American history books for basically the rest of time. Do you understand that, Mr. History Buff? Kids are gonna be learning our names in the future. Your name, my name, maybe even her name—and unless something crazy happens, like really crazy, then…” He sighed, and plopped back against the seat. “Then even if we keep the Declaration away from Ian, we're gonna be the ones they remember stealing it.” He looked back up. “You know that, Ben?”

It took a moment for Ben to find the voice to reply. When he did, he let it out with a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, blinking a few times. “Huh, yeah.” He sat back, stunned, as the full weight of it befell him. “Yeah...” he whispered again.

The fact was, he had thought of it. From the moment he determined to undertake the task, he’d been aware of it. But throughout their escapades and machinations, he had kept it as just that—a fact—an awareness at the back of his mind. He hadn’t thought about it. Not until that moment, in an empty parking lot in the middle of the night. Not until Riley decided to be seriously, deeply right.

And… he wanted to tell him that. He wanted to tell Riley just how dead-center his aim had been. He wanted to confess to him the sudden fear it had struck in his heart. But somehow, he couldn’t. What somehow it was, he didn’t know. But it kept his voice from him.

He started to tell himself he just didn’t want to worry him further, especially with the way things were now, but he knew that wasn’t it. Riley was the one who started this particular concern anyway. It wasn’t a matter of trust, either. This was his best friend—Riley knew things about him even his father didn’t know, and Ben would have willingly put his life in his hands. There were times when he’d had to. And there were times that Riley’s life had been in his hands, his alone, and they both knew it. And for all he knew, that could’ve been what stopped him from saying those words.

You’re dead right. We’ll never be forgotten. And it terrifies me.

Ben’s highest hope, even beyond the actual finding of the treasure, had always been to become a part of history. Just like his ancestors. Just like the Founders. Just like the men who had been his heroes since he was a boy. And throughout his adventure, there had been many times when he had thought to himself, you’re continuing that story. This is the same old tale Grandpa told you, but it’s not over. It’s going on, in this exact minute, and you’re the one carrying it now.

The thought had given him purpose, over all those years. But now, he could not help but wonder what his part in that history would be. Would he be a hero, like those men of history, the knights (official or not) that he had always looked up to? Or would he be the one to bring it all down when he failed?

But, whatever the reason, he couldn’t say all that to Riley. He couldn’t say anything at the moment. So the moment was filled with silence instead, a weighty, waiting silence, on the precipice of what tomorrow might bring. The burden of history, both written and as yet unwritten, was for him in that moment almost physical.

“That wasn’t the story I was talking about when you heard me, though.”

The breaking of the silence almost startled him. Ben glanced up at Riley, confused and close to bewildered. For a moment, all he could manage was, “Then… what—what were you…?”

Riley also looked up, and seemed to notice something strange in his hushed tone. “Oh. Sorry.” What was there to apologize for? “It’s just, I accidentally had, like, a lot of thoughts, while you and Abigail were talking. That stuff was part of it, but it wasn’t the main thing.”

He fell silent a moment, but Ben gestured him on, almost insistently. If there was more, even if it was worse, he felt he had to hear it. What could Riley have possibly meant?

Riley hesitated, then looked down and began fidgeting with a loose string on the neck pillow in his lap. “You were telling her the story. About the treasure, and how you got all that history from your grandpa.”

Ben’s ears perked up: anybody talking about his grandfather got his full attention.

“And I got thinking about it, and I just…” He shrugged. “I wondered about, y’know, what if that’s us someday? What if… what if we’re the ones some cool old guy tells his grandkids about? I mean, I know he still might think it’s bad, but at least grandpas and textbooks don’t really tell stories the same way. I assume,” he added, with a glance at Ben for confirmation.

To his own surprise, Ben felt a smile tugging at his lips. Something in that homier view of history—despite the continued possibility of failure—put him more at ease, as if he were still listening to old yarns at his grandfather’s house, slowly losing the fear of the storms outside. The cloud of heaviness that had been on him began to dissipate. Even the night around them seemed less dark.

Ben breathed a chuckle. “No, you’re right. They really don’t.”

“Yeah, so he’d be telling like a grandpa, not like some bored guy in Milwaukee having to crank out school material! Right? And then, like, he says,” and at this, Riley briefly put on the persona of an old man, complete with motions and raspy grandpa voice, “‘Come here, m’boy, let me tell you the story of the Templar Treasure,’ and the kids go huddle up in front of him with those ginormous eyes little kids always have, because apparently the smaller you are the bigger your eyes look, and he tells ‘em the whole thing, right up to where your grandpa told it, and then—and then he tells about us.”

There was a noticeable pause, as if it even took a little of Riley’s breath away. He smiled softly, almost in awe himself. “He tells about us.”

A few seconds passed before he noticed the gap of words, which he immediately jumped over to continue his own tale. “And—and maybe there’ll be this one kid who actually thinks about it and is like, ‘man, this Ben guy was nuts! He just goes, oh let’s steal the Declaration of Independence, and expects everybody to be totally fine with it? How could anybody deal with such a crazy guy?’ And the grandpa would be like, ‘Well, shucks, I always knew you were a smart kid.’”

At this, Ben laughed. Really laughed, clear and from the heart. How in the world could Riley complain and fret about their plans so heavily, and yet paint the future with such lightness that you could laugh at it? All the time he’d known this kid, and he still couldn’t quite understand him. But he didn’t mind. And, for the moment, there seemed nothing to fear. The weight was gone.

But Riley wasn’t finished. “Oh, but you know he'd still get pulled into it, the same way your grandpa pulled you in—the same way you pulled me in—and end up thinking it's the coolest thing ever, of course. I mean, who wouldn't, if they tell it like a Gates tells it? You guys don't skimp on the history stuff, especially family history. That’s what bought my ticket for this whole… train of thought... thing... in the first place, you and Abigail and all your history nerd talk the whole way here.”

Ben reeled back, taking false offense. “Oh, nerd talk, is it?”

“One hundred percent, man, and don’t you forget it. And it’ll still be nerd stuff when you’re the subject boring another average guy like me to sleep in the back of the car.” Riley threw his hands in the air with an air of finality. “And, who knows? Maybe one of those cute little grandkids gets all inspired the same way you did, and wants to go find a treasure and fight bad guys and figure all kind of crazy puzzles, and, heck, probably decides to go be a knight and stuff, just like u—”

He bit his lip, checking himself. But Ben took note of his near-words. Riley quickly continued on a corrected course.

“You. Just like you,” and he shoved his arm with a smirk, “Mister Sir Benjamin Franklin knighted-at-age-eleven Gates. You and all your Templars and Crusaders. ‘Cause I mean, what kid wouldn't think a guy smart enough to steal the Declaration of Independence, and crazy enough or brave enough to try to save it from the bad guys, was totally awesome?”

Ben was unvoiced. All his mouth could manage was a speechless smile, as he looked at his young friend. He felt like he’d just heard a little brother tell him he was his hero. And… maybe, in a way, he had.

But it didn’t take long for Riley to notice the smile. The moment he did, he covered his tracks with a roll of the eyes, hoping to pretend he hadn’t said as much as he had. “Except for the kids who actually have the misfortune to know you, I mean.” And on “know”, he chucked the neck pillow at Ben’s face, nailing him squarely.

“Wha—they have the misfortune?”

“Yeah, you know, studies show, the coolness-craziness ratio really gets skewed over time, especially where little kids are involved.”

Snatching the pillow from where it had fallen, Ben grinned and replied, laughter in his voice. “Well, maybe they should ask you to tell the story, then. You seem to have it pretty well mapped out.”

Riley gave him a look. “If I live to have grandkids, I might. And if that pun was actually intended.”

Noticing suddenly how the thought had come out, Ben considered it. “It is now.”

“Thought so.”

As he studied the young snark, another thought lit up Ben’s mind. One that simply could not be left under a bushel. But he did hide a growing grin behind his hand, as he prepared to speak again.

“But you know,” he mused, acting thoughtful, “I’m a little surprised at you, Riley. I mean, you left out one of the key historical figures involved in the story of the Templar Treasure. And he’s not one I thought you’d forget, either, let me tell you.”

“Oh great, here comes the history lecture.” Riley turned to him, eyes firmly planted on the ceiling just above Ben’s head, looking like a teen braced for a parental scolding. “Fine. Who'd I miss?”

“The other knight.”

At his confused look, Ben leaned back, gesturing with a bit of storytelling flair himself. “Riley Poole: computer genius and sole source of common sense, fellow treasure protector against the forces of evil and Ian Howe.” Then, as Riley gaped, Ben launched into a series of smaller voices (although he barely tried to sound like a child, let alone the three to four he seemed to be acting out). “‘Tell me more about him, Grandpa! Oh, he's such a funny guy, I like his jokes! How ever did he put up with that crazy Ben? That guy couldn’t have got anywhere without Riley!’”

Riley stared at him for a few seconds. But then, to Ben’s surprise, his mouth snapped shut, and the jaw behind it seemed, for a second at least, to clench. “Come on, Ben, not cool,” Riley muttered, jerking his face the other way. “I was serious.”

Ben felt a twinge of guilt at the almost angry reaction: Riley thought he was being mocked. But before he could feel so (mistakenly) betrayed he cut himself off from anything Ben had to say—a situation Ben really, really hated—he settled a hand on Riley’s shoulder. This earned him a rather cross glance. But, seeing past the glare, he looked his young friend dead in the eyes, with a small, sincere smile.

“So was I.”

The glance lengthened into a full-on stare. “Wait, you—”

Ben could see the exact moment that the words fully sank in. The irritation became stunned surprise, and that turned to a swelling, glowing pride. It wasn’t a joke. Ben meant every word. A smile twitched at his lips. Then the swell burst, short and sudden, in a laugh like a firework. “Wow.”

And it pleased Ben mightily to see it. The sight of those blue eyes lighting up with real joy, with no hint of sarcasm, was rare. And he was doubly happy, because he was also telling the truth. Truth in every single word. Including one word in particular. One that required a little testing. Ben paused, taking the moment in a bit longer, then lifted his eyebrows, almost humourously. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to drop the knight part…”

“No!”

Ben nearly laughed again at the eager speed of the answer. But Riley, upon realizing the same, nearly stumbled over himself to cover up with, “Um, no, no, that’s fine. The knight part… the knight part works. D-don’t worry about it.”

“Who’s worrying?” Ben grinned, hopes fulfilled. Ever since he’d told Riley about his boyhood knighthood (and truth be told, he’d never really dropped the title, at least in his own mind), he’d found it easier and easier to think of the two of them as fellow knights. But he never said that. He didn’t want to push a title on someone else if they might think it a little childish. That was why he’d needed a test, which Riley had passed with eagerness.

And yet, pleased as he was by that eagerness, it suddenly hit him how easily it could be snuffed out. The nearer they got to the treasure, the greater the danger would grow. He was sure of that. They’d already been through some real perils, and they’d escaped without injury, but how long would it be before they wound up in front of Ian’s gun again, with ever-dwindling negotiables? The old weight began to creep back over him.

“You are.”

Ben looked back up, confused. “I’m what?”

“Worrying.”

Is it that noticeable? “Oh. Am I?”

At that, something inside Riley seemed to crumble, something he tried very much to hide. “Oh.”

Ben furrowed his brow, definitely worried now. What happened? Did I say something wrong?

He started to open his mouth to ask, but Riley seemed to steel himself, taking a breath and lifting his head. “Yeah, and you know, I totally get it,” he said, quickly and in something of an apologetic tone, “it’s a personal thing from your childhood, it feels weird letting somebody else take over it. I get it. The knight part is your thing. So if you don’t want me tacking it on,” he raised his hands in surrender, “it’s fine, I won’t say anything else about it.”

“What?” This was it? After all the—he still felt out of place in Ben’s life? He still felt like he was being just a burden, a tagalong?

“What?”

Ben sighed and shook his head. “You’re not taking anything over. Knighthood is meant to be passed from one to another. And it’s too important a promise to tack on to just anybody.”

“Tell that to Jagger.”

“Too important for me to just tack on, then.”

Riley seemed reluctant to accept acceptance, no matter how many times he’d received it. “Really?”

“Trust me. You’re good. That wasn’t even close to what I was worrying about.”

He let out a quiet breath of relief. “Okay.” The pause wasn’t long, however, before he glanced back up. “But you were worrying, though. That was definitely the Ben Gates worry face.”

“I have a worry face?”

“Ehh, it’s rare, but I know it when I see it. I mean, it’s you. Worrying.” Ben conceded the point with a shrug. “So why?”

“Why?” Ben hesitated, taking a breath, but his mind made itself up quickly. No more. Riley had opened up to him; it was high time, however his friend reacted, he did the same. He slowly let out his breath. “Because I think we’re gonna need the knight part pretty soon. We’re probably coming up on some… well, some pretty difficult chapters of that story, if you know what I mean. And, if I’m gonna be honest,” and at this, his voice dropped, “I’m a little afraid to know the ending.”

Riley stared at him for a silent moment. Ben wasn’t quite sure what he was hoping for next. Hope I didn’t say too much. But then Riley nodded, slowly at first. “Wow. Yeah, I mean, me too, man.” His nodding sped up. “You know, maybe I will keep the knight part after all.”

Ben smiled, relieved, though he wasn’t sure why. “Sounds like a good idea.”

“Yeah.” Riley was quiet only a moment more before he scoffed. “You know, it’s all fine when you’re just hearing about the dangerous stuff the heroes go through. You don’t really think about how threats to your life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness actually feel.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“But hey,” he shrugged, “at least those future-kids are gonna have a heck of a story. I mean, for them, we’re probably coming up on the best parts!” He laughed at his own words, but still grimaced slightly.

Ben smiled. Again, the complainer held the candle in the dark. And in that moment, Ben knew he was glad to have him on this… adventure, or whatever it could be called, no matter what happened. Riley really had been the common sense, the genius, the light (shaded in sarcasm though it was), throughout the whole thing. And Ben was sure he truly couldn’t have gotten this far without him. But he knew they were about to head off into more trouble when they got to Philadelphia tomorrow, very possibly of the life-threatening type. He had to make sure Riley was okay with facing it down.

“Sure you still wanna be a part of it?” he asked, nodding toward him. “It’s a big responsibility.”

Riley tapped the red, metal, tube-like container hanging on Ben’s seat. “I know.”

Ben nodded. “You’re right. There is a very big responsibility to keep the Declaration safe. We have enough danger just from that. But the duty of the Templars, the Freemasons, and the family Gates, now, that's all on me. Not you or Abigail or anybody else. I know I pretty much dragged you into this from the beginning, and if you’d rather stay out of the line of fire, I… wouldn’t mind letting you—”

“Oh no you don’t, Mr. Gates,” Riley interrupted, grinning widely and pointing threateningly, “you made me a treasure protector, same as all your Templars, Freemasons, and family Gates! And I promise you, I’m not about to let you write me out now!”

That’s a good enough promise for me. Then, attitude restored, Ben responded in a tone of dry humour. “Well, then, in that case, I dub thee Sir Riley.” And he smacked him on the shoulder with the neck pillow.

Sir Riley seemed to take offense to the smacking as a personal challenge, and snatched the pillow away. Ben could see a glint of war fire in his eye. However, before battle could be engaged, his eye caught a sight that was becoming pleasantly familiar, to him at least. He laughingly held up a hand.

“Okay, hold up, hold up, Abigail’s coming back.”

“Oh joy,” Riley deadpanned, a little disappointed in the forced ceasefire. Then, with a thought, he smirked at Ben. “You think even she’d be okay in a story? Like as a character?”

“Abigail?” Ben considered her qualifications for such a role. And he found he couldn’t help but smile; smile at her deep passion for history (close akin to his own), her unflagging determination, and of course, her absolute refusal to ever shut up. “Could be.” He chuckled softly. “Could be…”

He looked up to find Riley giving him a very pointed look, so Ben ignored him and glanced out at her instead. As Abigail crossed the parking lot, he pondered her a little longer. “Wonder if she thinks we're the heroes or the villains.”

By the time he noticed Riley’s movement, the window was already halfway rolled down. “Good question.” Riley stuck his head out the window and yelled across the parking lot, “Hey, Abi, do you think we're the heroes or the villains?”

Still halfway across, she stopped to give him a look and shook her head. “It’s Abigail to you, and for the record, I still think you’re lunatics.”

“Well, I knew that!”

“I mean for yelling across the parking lot.”

“Well, if we're stating things for the record, you're yelling too.”

Abigail simply rolled her eyes and resumed her walk. Riley laughed again. “Guess we’re gonna have to call off the Second Revolutionary War, huh, Ben?”

“Oh, you’ll probably break the truce at some point.”

“Keep on your toes, old man.”

Riley smiled, but fell silent as he did so, staring at the dashboard. In the moment before Abigail came up to the car, his voice returned. “So… just to be clear…” He took a breath before he spoke again, and looked up at Ben hopefully when he did. “Knights?”

Ben practically beamed as he nodded: he could finally say it was true. “Knights.”

Riley held up his fist, and they sealed their eternal covenant of knighthood and brotherhood with a knuckle-bump.

A moment later, the passenger door opened. “Also, you took my seat, Bill.”

“Sir Riley, actually. Nice to meet you, milady.”

---

Well, happy Independence Day, folks! Thanks for reading, and doubly so if you've stuck with me all the way through to the end here!

This is my first National Treasure fic, but my second Lord of the Rings fic (the first is ancient and in hiding somewhere). Since NT is so patriotic and honoring of America's history and forefathers, I figured I'd post this today.

The inspiration came from two things: firstly, that fanfiction I posted about a few weeks ago, and secondly, from the story scene in The Two Towers. The kids had the movie on, and I jumped in right around there. And maybe I just had NT on the brain, but that scene just suddenly struck me as very fitting for Ben and Riley. Who are awesome, by the way.

So I wrote up a (much shorter) first draft that day, and edited it over the next several weeks. And now it's done! And I'm rather pleased with it, for my part.

It's also on fanfiction.net and, for the first time for any of my fics, AO3, if you want to check that out too.

Again, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, and happy Independence Day!

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

The Helping Hand

This is a Repost from my Ao3 I wanted to bring it to Tumblr. I hope you like it Its currently 5 chapters I will be uploading the rest throughout the rest of the week.

Word count: 1900 approx

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Ch.2

Chapter 3: Remembering

Ch.4

22 years ago (Tony's POV)

"Dad say something." You watch as Howard paces back and forth. "Tony, what do you want me to say? I'm disappointed in you. You're better than this." He rushes towards you and you can see the desperation in his eyes. 

"Does anyone else know? This could ruin you… this could destroy us." You sigh running your hand through your hair. "No dad, she hasn't told her parents yet." Howard tenses further and musters "Good, you better keep it that way."

"Dad, she wants to have the baby." He sits you down next to him placing his hand on your shoulder. "She's not going to keep that child tony. She can have it but she'll never see it again, and neither will you."

"Dad it's my kid I can't in my right mind have it in the foster system." Howard grows impatient. "And what exactly is it that you can offer the kid." You look at him, the anger and the feeling of inevitability building in you. "Money." You simply say for lack of other ideas. 

Howard laughs with no trace of humor behind it "And have that child turn out like you, trust me they'll be better off without it. And let me make this clear you have no choice in the matter." You stand to face your dad "Or what did, what are you going to do?" Howard levels with your looking at your eyes "Or I’ll forget I have a son named Tony."

You are taken aback by your father’s words and he continues "So what's it going to be Tony that child, or your future you chose." You take a deep breath and compose yourself nodding at him. "Fine, Howard we'll do it your way. You say while you walk out, finding your mother on the other side of the door. 

"Mom?" Shed gives you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry son for your father’s behavior. Everything will be fine." You let your guard down finally realizing the tears that you'd been holding in. You hug your mother nestling your face in her neck. 

The pregnancy had gone by so fast Maya reluctantly agreed to your father’s terms. She moved into your home, and you got to see your daughter develop and become a tiny person. You're holding an ultrasound in your hand. "She's going to be beautiful." You say more towards yourself but Maya heard you. 

"Do you ever wonder what will happen to her? Tony, I'm scared." You take her hand and look at her belly. "I'm scared too." You confess honestly. She shakes her head "No Tony, I'm scared for her. What exactly is going to happen to her?" You take her hand "I don't know Maya, but she'll be okay." You squeeze her hand reassuringly. 

She grimaces and you get startled "Are you okay, is the baby okay?" You Ask almost instinctively Maya can only giggle at your reaction. "Were fine you can touch my bump if you went to. It's her new trick it's called kicking mommy at the most inconvenient times." 

You hesitate, but place your hands on her bump. Seconds pass by when she kicks again causing you to laugh. Maya clears her throat "You know you can talk to her?" You look up at Maya and she continues. "I read it she can hear you… if you want to say anything it's probably a good idea to do it now before… well you know."

"Do you mind covering your ears?" She laughs but does it anyway. You bend down to her baby bump as if to make sure she could hear your voice. "Hi, baby it's me your dad. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. And I wanted to give you some advice. Just be strong alright." You can feel your baby moving under your hands "I'm sorry." You repeat. 

It wasn't long after this conversation that Maya went into labor. The whole thing was terrifying you, but you had to be strong. From now on yo I had to set an example. "Where is she? Where's my baby? I want to see her at least once Tony… Please." She pulled you out of your thoughts. 

"Of course" You give her a small smile and leave the room to where your mother and father are. "Umm… she wants to see her. She wants to see her at least once." Howard sighs but caves in the end. "Fine… I’ll tell the nurse to go get her." You interrupted his sentence. 

"Umm… actually I want to go get her." Your mother sighs "Tony, honey that's not a good idea." You look at her pleading with your eyes. "I need to see her… at least once. Please." She looks at Howard and he simply nods. You take your leave and go to the nursery. 

Once there you look for her you find her almost immediately. "Hey monkey how are ya… I'm crazy, aren't I? Talking to a newborn like you could understand me." Suddenly she smiles and it lights up your entire heart. "We'll see each other again, I promise. I don't know how long it will be but I’ll see you again." You kiss her head gently. "I'll fight for you, you just have to be strong. Alright, let's take you to see your mom."

As you're making your way to her room suddenly you hear the words "code blue patient in room 34b is in code blue" suddenly the halls are filled with nurses running towards Maya's room. "Mom what's happening is Maya going to be okay?" She gives you a look "It's not looking good honey they've got her stable but, I would go in there before it's too late… Go, Tony!"

"Maya…" you say cautiously holding your baby. "How is she Tony… is she okay?" Her voice was hoarse. "She's beautiful… I think she has your eyes." She chuckles "let me hold her." You don't wait any longer, you place her in Maya's arms. "She's heavier than I thought." she mentions. "Tony fight for her, alright… maybe not today or tomorrow but find her. I'm not going to make it out of her promise that you'll look for her." 

The tears start to build up in your eyes. You don't speak but you nod giving her closure. She turns to your baby she's holding in her arms. "I love you so much alright, I'm sorry. I'll always love you." She looks at you asking to take the baby from her arms. You do as she asks… she closed her eyes and never opened them again. 

You walk out of the room, the tears streaming down your cheeks. Kissing your baby one last time on the head, handing her over to Howard. Breaking down almost immediately as you watch him walk away with her. As soon as he's out of your sight you feel like the air was knocked out of you.

"She's so beautiful mom… I wish you'd met her." You say as you remember all of her, her image burned in your mind forever. Her captivating smile that stole your heart the minute you saw it. And you promise to Maya. "I'm going to fight for her mom… I don't care how long it takes." She takes your face in her hands "I know you are." She says as she wipes your tears away.

(Howard’s POV) 

As much as it pained you to see your son so distraught you continued with your plans. Yes, it was harsh but what was he going to do with a child. Especially now that the mother was gone, maybe she could actually find a worthy family in the system. At least that is what you are trying to believe.

You hadn’t taken the time to look down at your granddaughter until she cooed. I was one of the most peculiar sounds you’d ever heard. Finally letting your eyes travel down you the bundle in your arms. She was… she was perfect you saw Tony in her you saw Maya in her and it just brought pain to you. Here you were paying a stranger to leave her in a hospital. “I’ll give you half the money here and the rest when you come back.” You say firmly. The woman only nods holding the baby in her arms. 

It felt like you were waiting forever when the woman came back you were startled. “Sir the baby has been left in the NICU.” You look at her bewildered as to why the child is now in the NICU. “What did you do to her.” she calmly says “The baby girl had problems with her lungs, something about a heart murmur I didn’t quite stay to find out.” You sighed and gave the woman the rest of her money.

Months had now passed and you were still keeping up with the child. Her medical issues were quite extensive, but you made sure she got everything she needed. She had not been adopted or even considered as an option… not once. People usually want healthy undamaged kids. When you were giving up hope on her adoption, you decided on bringing the child home.

Things were quickly changed when the system quite literally lost your granddaughter. At one point you were just looking through death certificates to see if you would find some trace of them. Three years had gone by when you finally gave up hope tired of looking for her tired of feeling the guilt. 

Deep down you knew that Tony was going to look for her one day, something you didn’t see coming was her being nowhere to be found. You simply couldn’t live with that so you kept looking. There were so many times where you thought that you had found her but in reality, it was just someone else. It was a nightmare the things these kids went through at this point you just wanted to get her out you had seen enough horror stories. 

It wasn’t until you found a report done on the Gordon family that you finally had a lead on where she was. That was almost 11 years of searching to find out that she had quite literally been through hell. She was transferred to a group home after the incident at the Gordon House. It took you months to get in contact with Jerome Evans.

“With all due respect Jerome if you dont hand over the kid you be in deep trouble.” you spat at him angrily. To which he simply chuckles. “And what are “you” going to do about it pops” Now it was your turn to laugh “I was beginning to think you’d never ask you see I know about everything that goes down here. What you do to the kids you know your little side hustle.” You can see Jerome’s expression change.

“Hand over the kid.” He simply nods and yells “Krast get down here!” 

(Present Time)

Y/N’s POV

“Are you okay Tony?” You ask genuinely concerned. He simply nods and smiles “I just got an idea, what if we throw you a birthday party here a Stark Tower to commemorate our partnership.” You were surprised by his initiative. “I would love it thanks for offering, but as I said it would be till a couple of months from now so we have time.” Now Pepper starts to talk “When exactly is your birthday.” You think about it and answer “Well I was born in March early march. I don’t really know the day but I usually celebrate on the 5th.” By now Tony just looks pale but you let it slide as you don't know him well.

[enviedear]

the empty feeling → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which malfoy is consoled by a girl who can’t help but fall for him.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2.1k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you thought the reason your heart never fully recovered was because of the fact you had to see him everyday.

every single day you saw him. he was laughing, bickering, looking out a window, eating, reading, and in conversations. you couldn’t help but watch. you tried not to. you tried to make the love you had for him diminish. or maybe at least dull. it wouldn’t work.

you didn’t mean to fall in love with draco malfoy. however you did. your heart overruled your brain. at least when it came to him.

you think back to the day you knew you loved the slytherin boy. it was a foggy and rainy day that truly began at a slug club meeting.

“dreadful weather we’re having right, miss y/l/n?” slughorn asks you.

the rest of the slug club stares at you as you respond, “i quite like the rain. i get the best sleep when it rains.”

he nods and replies,”ah, just like your father. i remember he loved to listen the rain when he was your age. does he still listen? to the the rain, my dear?”

you didn’t want to talk about your father. not that you didn’t love the man, but you knew there wasn’t much you could indulge. he kept his work close to him and never really told you much. you knew slughorn would eventually lead the conversation to your fathers work.

“sometimes professor. he’s usually busy these days though.” you say, looking down at your ice cream.

busy because of people like zabini and crabbe’s parents. as you looked back up at slughorn you didn’t miss the sly look blaise gave you. you quickly turned your attention back to the professor.

“ah! i wouldn’t expect him not to be. amazing work your father does, making such simple objects into wands. you know my dear, i heard he turned a rusty old spoon into a very powerful wand!” slughorn boasts for you.

you smile as a response and allow the teacher to spark conversation with the other club members.

what slughorn forgets to add is that the wands your father has begun to produce are being used by many deatheater families. since the wands cannot be tracked, and are easy to pass off as illegitimate objects. they buy them for their children and it’s not as if your father or the ministry can do much about it.

plus, your father shouldn’t have to loose his job just because others take advantage of him. and even if he did make the damn things trackable that would be putting a target on his back.

as you mull over your thoughts slughorn stands and bids you all a goodnight. you politely tell the man night, and walk out of the room. you were going to head to the hufflepuff common room, but as you passed moaning myrtle’s bathroom you stopped in your tracks.

you heard crying. and the cries weren’t myrtle’s usual wails, but a boy’s. on further inspection you found that they also weren’t just any boys cries but, malfoy’s.

you slowly creeped into the abandoned bathroom, making sure to not alert malfoy that you were there.

he sat by the sinks and looked utterly distressed. his eyes a deep red. he looked completely broken. you’d never seen the boy like this. and it broke your own heart.

against your better judgement you cleared your throat to make yourself known.

he looked up at you, defeated.

you didn’t say anything as you bent down and gave the boy a hug. he didn’t say anything as he hugged you back. he just let his tears escape onto your shirt.

eventually he let you go. you didn’t have the slightest clue what to say. nothing seemed right.

“don’t tell a soul about this.” malfoy grimaced, getting to his feet.

you looked at him shocked, “i wasn’t. i-“ he cut you off with a scowl.

“draco you have to trust me. please i won’t say anything just.. take care of yourself.” you said.

he didn’t reply. he just walked out. leaving you confused.

after that day you couldn’t see draco malfoy as a nuisance. no, after that day you couldn’t help but to romanticize the boy. you didn’t think he bullied because he was hateful. no not at all. you thought he did it because he was lonely, sad, or upset. you found his worst qualities easy forgivable. you knew he was broken. but you also knew it wasn’t an excuse, you just couldn’t help it.

so you continued to watch him daily. eyeing him as much as you could. you began to love the way his face would turn into a sneer at the slighted inconvenience. you loved the way he held his cup. you loved the way he looked over his books. and for some reason you began hoping. hoping that maybe one day he would eye you too.

alas, the boy went and broke your heart by dating pansy. you knew it wasn’t done to be malicious. you knew he didn’t know about your feelings. you knew he was probably very happy with pansy and she with him.

though, you’d still find the boy in the bathroom on a regular basis and have to console him. each time you’d think he’d come around. each time he did not.

you kept hoping though. it proved you detrimental as you went from being a happy and loving person to someone who harbored far too much loathing. you couldn’t help it, you felt so cheated. how could you love and care for this boy and he not even say a word to you?

your friends noticed your behavior.

“y/n you’re taking out whatever is upsetting you on us. and you won’t even tell us what’s wrong.”

then your teachers.

“miss y/l/n your grades are slipping. and you’re not acting like yourself at all. is everything ok?”

then your sibling(s).

“i didn’t do anything to you, stop treating me like this y/n.”

and finally your parent(s).

“honey, are you sure everything is alright at school? you don’t have to go back if something is seriously wrong.”

you were better than before. you were finally home. you didn’t have to see the boy anymore. you didn’t have to be reminded of him every waking moment.

but still, you weren’t you.

you never told any of the people worried about you why exactly you weren’t ok. you hated the thought of being this upset over a boy you genuinely barely knew.

and even though you told yourself repeatedly that you in fact did not know malfoy, your heart proclaimed otherwise.

when you returned to school, this time in your sixth year, you decided that you needed to avoid the problem.

so you did. you ate breakfast and dinner without looking up from your food. you paid far too much attention in class. you never went to hogsmeade. you isolated yourself.

and it worked, more than less. you only caught a glimpse of malfoy a handful of times. each time less painful.

by november you began to forget about your weird fascination with malfoy. but when you received news that he and pansy had broken up your heart fluttered just like it would have a few months ago.

but still, finally you felt more like yourself. you began talking to your friends more. you went on a couple of dates. started helping out first years. everything was falling into place.

you tried to ignore the off feeling of emptiness that still lingered in you.

it’s january when you bump into him, on your way to the astronomy tower to meet your friends.

“sorry.” you say, continuing on your path.

“wait, come here, y/l/n.” he says, causing you to double back.

you turn to face him not even slightly happy that you’re allowing this exchange.

“i- well, i wanted to thank you for never telling anyone about last year. i’m sorry i was so brash to you,” he pauses. “that’s all.” he says.

you look at him stunned. it took him a year to apologize. although you knew he had no idea the amount of internal struggle he has caused you, you feel your blood boil.

“i’m glad you spent an entire year gaining the courage to apologize for your behavior. however, i don’t accept your apology. you’re such a coward, malfoy. i mean, you’re afraid that people would find out i consoled you. as if it’s even a big deal. just leave me alone.” you seethe.

whole-heartedly you couldn’t help your outburst. the boy just aggravated you. how could he apologize now?

“i’m sorry i didn’t apologize sooner, but if i were you i’d take the apology i was given.” he glares at you.

“or what malfoy? what could you possibly do?” you ask.

“i never said i’d do anything! i just suggested you take the apology. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, okay? you just looked so put off all the bloody time. i didn’t want to bother you.” he groans.

now your ears were hot and eyes stone cold.

“put off?” you spluttered, “it’s your fucking fault i looked so put off. you worried me to no end. i never knew if you were ok! and although i know it’s not my business it still hurt. i was so upset for you. and then you wouldn’t say a word to me. and then you dated parkinson. and-“ you stop yourself.

“you just apologized too late, alright.”

he looks at you bewildered, “i’m sorry i feel like i’m missing something.”

you roll your eyes, “i loved you draco. i don’t know why but i did. i wanted to make sure you were ok. everytime you needed me i was there. i never even asked for anything in return, not even human decency. but i shouldn’t have had to ask for that. you should have been nice to me. i was beyond nice to you.”

he furrows his brows,“i am truly sorry, y/n. i didn’t know. i was being selfish and i can admit i used you for your kindness. but if you’d give me the chance i’d be good to you. good for you. i- i never meant to hurt you.”

your cold gaze didn’t leave, “i don’t believe you.”

he sighs, “come here.”

he holds his hand out to you and you take it cautiously.

he leads you into the place where it all started, myrtle’s bathroom. he begins pulling a book out from his bag, and then he hands it to you.

“just look it over.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

you open the book and are immediately greeted by drawings. illustrations littering the pages, and they’re all of you.

you turn to one page, it’s a drawing of you outside studying. underneath the picture sat draco’s neat writing.

she came to calm me down today. fourth time this week. she still hasn’t told anyone. that means a lot to me. i again didn’t tell her why i was upset. it seems stupid to tell her about my problems. she’s too pure for them. i’d never want to upset her. i think i love her. i don’t know how. i barely even talk to her. but her hugs are nice. and she’s always so kind. i just wish i knew how to tell her what’s going on. i wish i wasn’t so scared of her rejection. it’s all too much. at least i have this. all of these pictures of her. now i cant forget her even if i tried. but of course, i’d never want to forget her.

you look up from the page. you cant help the few tears that escape your eyes.

“you loved me? the whole time? and you didn’t tell me?” you ask.

he bites his lip, “you didn’t tell me either. plus i knew i was a prat. i didn’t think you’d even want to be loved by someone like me.”

you huff out a pained breath, “draco i have loved you since the day you allowed me to comfort you. i wanted nothing more than to help you and to make sure you were ok.”

he doesn’t say anything, instead he envelops you in a tight hug. the embrace eases your worry and soothes the empty part of you. the two of you continue to hold eachother for minutes on end, and by the time you pull away you know draco meant every single word.

“please never stop caring.” he tells you.

“never.” you agree.

and you mean it. you can’t stop the way your heart beats for the blonde boy, and you didn’t want to. you love him. almost as if you needed to.