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halcyon-girls · 2 years

Note

For the Stellatrix writing prompt: Once Bloom's gone, Beatrix (obviously alive in this universe) becomes the most powerful fairy at Alfea, which obviously attracts a lot of attention, especially from Queen Luna. How that impacts her dynamic with Stella is up to you!

Once Beatrix has healed from her injuries, she begins training. It seemed only fitting to work alongside the specialists in order to make up for what happened with the blood witches. But what happens when she catches the eye of Queen Luna and is offered the position of Stella's personal guard? --------------- Stella watches as Beatrix sends a bolt of electricity towards one of the specialists. He escapes the blast by only a fraction, and in the time it takes him to recentre himself, Beatrix is already centred and sending another his way that he can’t avoid. He loses his staff, and it lands between them.

He falls to the ground but is quick to push himself back up, still being in the circle they’d set as the boundary for this match.

Stella watches as the wind blows Beatrix’s ponytail over her shoulder, revealing the thin scar that sits across the nape of Beatrix’s neck, a reminder of what almost was. Sometimes… often, Stella wishes she had the magic to take those pains away.

Beatrix rushes forward and grabs the staff. She slides her other hand down it, igniting it with electricity. The specialist dances around the next few swings, though Stella can see the fear in his eyes at being hit by it.

He slides to the edge and grabs the spare staff, meeting her hit for hit. Beatrix was never one to play fair. She slides on her knees and swings at his legs, sending him to the ground with a shock.

‘Point to Beatrix!’ Saul declares. ‘That’s a match.’

Stella smiles and cheers. She watches as Beatrix moves to Saul’s side to discuss her win. Realistically, Stella should be ecstatic. Beatrix was still alive and not only that, she’d become an excellent fighter, surpassing the specialist ranks at a rate few had done before.

But Stella can see what’s unsaid. She notices the way Beatrix looks away from Saul, her thoughts miles away. When Beatrix had healed all those months ago, Stella had asked her if she’d like to find her sisters. Beatrix had said she couldn’t leave so easily. Not after everything that had happened.

Leaving would have been easier than risking injuries each day.

Eventually, Beatrix finishes her discussion with Saul and walks over to Stella, dropping down on the bench beside her. She nudges Stella with her elbow. ‘How was that?’

Stella hands her a bottle of water and pushes a few strands of hair off her face that had started to stick. ‘You’re brilliant. The way you ignited the staff was particularly impressive.’

Beatrix takes a sip. ‘You say, sounding unimpressed.’

Stella places a hand on Beatrix’s knee. ‘I am, I promise you.’ She looks down, frowning at the bruise that sits on Beatrix’s forearm. ‘I just hate to see you hurt.’

Beatrix sighs and leans her head against Stella’s shoulder. ‘You worry too much, princess. A few bruises as compensation for the damage I’ve done? There isn’t a comparison.’

Stella looks up and moves her hand to wrap around Beatrix’s shoulder, holding her close. She watches as two specialists step up onto the platform and start a sparring match. ‘You don’t have to make up for what Sebastian did.’

Beatrix sighs, her hand resting loosely on Stella’s thigh. ‘Don’t I?’

Stella thinks back on all of the ways Beatrix has tried to prove herself. Some of the students and teachers were forgiving, the others bitter and distant. It didn’t matter. Stella knew that Beatrix was good, or at least trying to be. ‘No,’ she finally responds.

Beatrix doesn’t answer and Stella doesn’t demand one. Their lives had become awfully complicated in such a short period of time. Answers weren’t found as easily as they used to be.

Stella watches each match and laughs along with Beatrix as Riven and Musa take to the platform, flirting far more than duelling. It seems to work to Musa’s advantage. Within five minutes Riven is pinned and conceding his loss.

Eventually, their quiet bubble, where they can just be two friends, pops. Saul calls Beatrix over for another match and all Stella can do is watch as she’s flipped, hit and all manner of things. Beatrix wins far more than she loses, but each loss has Stella cringing.

She should leave. She had plenty of studying to do and shouldn’t just be sitting out here watching specialist matches. If it had been Sky, she’d probably have already departed. With Beatrix, though? She finds herself unable to pull herself away. It seems the term ‘friends’ had started to become ill-fitting. She refused to tell Beatrix that. The last thing she needed was the burden of Stella’s out-of-control emotions.

So, she watches Beatrix win and lose, cheering her on in both scenarios. If there was anything that had become abundantly clear since what happened with Sebastian, it’s that Beatrix was an incredible fighter, in both resilience and adaptability.

Stella just wishes this wasn’t the way she found that out.

After an hour of matches, Beatrix is freed by Saul. Her eyes widen in what looks to be a surprise, and she walks over to Stella’s side. ‘You’re still here.’

Stella feels her cheek flush as she reaches for the water bottle. ‘I, um, enjoyed watching the fights.’

Beatrix smirks, accepting the water bottle, ‘Did anything else catch your fancy?’

Stella averts her eyes. ‘Nothing more than the thrills of combat.’

Beatrix laughs but seems to take pity on her, placing her spare hand on Stella’s shoulder. ‘I’m only teasing, princess, I’m glad you stayed.’

Stella turns to face Beatrix. ‘You are?’

‘Yeah,’ Beatrix confirms, reaching down for Stella’s hand and pulling her off the bench. ‘It’s nice to have someone cheering for me.’

Stella grabs the small towel she’d started to bring to these matches and gently dabs it against Beatrix’s forehead.

Beatrix rolls her eyes, but her smile is obvious. ‘You know, I can’t really be that sweaty and gross.’

Stella smiles and presses it against the nape of Beatrix’s neck, carefully avoiding touching the scar too hard. ‘Perhaps not, but I hardly hear you complaining.’

Stella moves the towel to the side of Beatrix’s neck, sliding it down. Beatrix catches her hand, holding her in place. ‘Perhaps I simply enjoy a princess pampering me.’

Stella laughs, her thumb brushing against Beatrix’s neck. ‘Here I am, breaking the tropes of princesses each day.’ She lowers the towel from Beatrix’s neck and places it in the laundry basket just outside the changing room for specialists.

Beatrix squeezes her hand before opening the door. ‘I think you broke every last one when you chose to remain friends with me.’ She walks in and finds her locker. ‘I’ll see you at dinner?’

‘See you,’ Stella whispers, watching as Beatrix pulls the door shut behind her, already starting to pull her shirt off. Stella bites her lip and quickly turns the other way, heading back to her suite to pick up her books. She supposes she should actually study and… avoid the feelings that spurred in her chest at seeing that.

Yes. Studying.

She hurries to her suite and pushes her feelings aside. The last thing she needed was for them to finally reach the surface.

With the suite thankfully empty, she picks up her book on fairy history and her writing supplies and heads into the library, finding her favourite study nook.

She’s halfway through her notes on the wars of fairy history when someone taps their hand against her shoulder. Perhaps Beatrix had found her? She turns to face her, a wide smile on her face and her name on her lips.

Except it isn’t Beatrix at all.

‘Expecting someone else?’ Queen Luna questions.

Stella purses her lips and taps her pen against her desk. ‘No. No one in particular.’

Queen Luna slides into the seat across from Stella, making it clear that she wasn’t just here to politely greet her and leave. How simply awful of her.

Stella scribbles a few more notes in her notebook but her mother seems to be painfully resolute in her position of having a conversation with her. She sighs and drops her pen against her notebook. ‘What is it, mother?’

Queen Luna reaches across the table but Sella is quick to slide her hands under the table, preventing her from touching her.

Queen Luna sighs, her hand suspended in the air. When Stella doesn’t move, she pulls it back. ‘I see you still have your qualms with me.’

Stella huffs, directing her gaze at the wall. ‘Qualms doesn’t even begin to cover my feelings towards you.’

She listens to the sharp breath her mother takes but still refuses to look at her. When she shifts in her chair, Stella relents and looks towards her. ‘What?’

Queen Luna rubs her index finger and thumb against the bridge of her nose. ‘One day you will understand, Stella. As future Queen of Solaria-’

Stella narrows her eyes. ‘I told you, mother if you make me choose, they will always come first.’

Queen Luna presses her hands against the table. ‘That is why I have visited you today.’

Stella’s lips turn down. ‘To make me choose?’

Queen Luna sighs. ‘Stella, I am not here to harm you in spite of what you may believe of me.’ She pulls out a piece of paper from the pocket of her jacket. ‘With the coming,’ she pauses, ‘Decisions, around the Blood Witches, I believe you, as my daughter, should be kept safe.’ She holds the paper out between them.

Stella frowns but with little choice, she accepts the paper and carefully unfolds it.

Queen Luna speaks as she reads it. ‘You deserve a personal guard that has your best interests at heart.’

Stella reads it. A personal guard. Her guard. She was no fool, Sky had meant to be that. It had taken her a long time to realise their relationship had been based heavily on that arrangement rather than love.

She didn’t need another relationship. Another farce with a man she couldn’t love. She wasn’t sure if they were any men in the world that she could.

She opens her mouth to retort, to say she needn’t a loveless relationship. What she needed was for her mother to be her mother. Queen Luna places her hand on top of Stella’s. ‘Please, read the letter before you shout or deny this of me.’

Stella sighs and continues to read. ‘I hereby, as Queen and Sovereign of Solaria, assign Beatrix as the princesses’ royal guard from this moment henceforth.’

Stella rereads it a few times just to make sure she hadn’t made it up. When the fifth re-read still shows Beatrix’s name in her mother’s writing, she looks up, the question falling from her lips. ‘Beatrix?’

Queen Luna nods, a small smile on her lips. ‘I can see what a strong friendship you have. I have watched her grow amongst the specialists becoming a formidable fighter both on and off the field. She will serve you well.’

Stella feels her hand clench around the letter. ‘Serve? My friends should not serve me, mother.’

Queen Luna grips her hand, ‘You will understand when-’

Stella feels her eyes water and tugs her hand out of her mother’s, rising from the table. ‘When what, mother? You still see friendship as only purposeful when it’s bound in servitude. I don’t believe I will ever understand that.’

Queen Luna looks around, her eyes narrowing. ‘Be reasonable, Stella. I will request her to my office tonight and if she agrees, there is little that you can do.’

Stella huffs and pulls her books off the table. ‘There is always something that can be done.’

She walks away from her mother and refuses to look back. Her mother doesn’t call her name, or follow her. She supposes they’re at an impasse where her mother strives to ensure that friendship becomes foreign to Stella.

She refuses to allow it.

When she leaves the library, she searches for Beatrix. She searches the specialist locker room, her suite, and the dining hall. Beatrix was somehow nowhere to be found.

She types a text instead. ‘Where are you?’ No. Too demanding. ‘My mother is looking for you and-’ she huffs and hits the delete button. What could she even say? She settles on something generic. ‘How are you?’ She hits send feeling every bit embarrassed that those were the only words she could conjure.

Beatrix doesn’t respond and she wonders if somehow how mother had found her first. She tries not to worry but when a minute turns into five and five turns into thirty, she does.

It’s an hour later when she finally gets a text back from Beatrix. ‘Can we talk?’

They were the most dreaded words she could read. She takes an unsteady breath and texts Beatrix. ‘Yes.’

They meet outside of Beatrix’s suite and walk with no particular destination in mind, turning down halls when needed. Beatrix finally speaks when the only way they can keep walking is to go outside. ‘I agreed.’

Stella doesn’t need to ask what she agreed on. She leans against the wall and rubs her eyes. ‘Why? I don’t need you to serve me, and you don’t have to work for my mother. Not after Aster Dell.’

Beatrix moves closer and reaches for her hands, holding them both. ‘This isn’t about your mother.’

Stella grits her teeth, looking down at their hands. ‘How isn’t it? She came to you telling you to be my guard, did she not?’

Beatrix sighs. ‘She did.’

Stella pulls her close, holding her hands up to her chest. ‘Why, Beatrix?’

Beatrix squeezes her hands. ‘Because with everything that has happened, we don’t know what comes next. If in my survival, I can ensure yours, I will do so.’

Stella's eyes water. ‘We can do that as friends, together.’

Beatrix releases her hands. ‘We both know it will be easier as your guard.’

Stella nods her head and wipes the tears from her eyes. ‘If that is what you wish, then I accept. But, please, if at any moment this harms our friendship, you stop.’

Beatrix smiles. ‘I can accept that.’

With a conversation that felt undone out of the way, they talk. Beatrix leads her out onto the school grounds to sit on a small bench meant for two pressed against the exterior wall.

She didn’t want this. She feared for their relationship of friendship and of… well, of the possibility of something more. But she equally didn’t want to force a choice on Beatrix. ‘So, what does my mother expect of you?’ She asks instead.

Beatrix crosses her legs. ‘Well, she’d like me to start training with some of the Solarian guards first. To prove myself or something. I wasn’t really listening to her much.’

Stella snorts. ‘You’re supposed to listen to something like that.’

Beatrix shrugs. ‘Turns out she enjoys having everything written. I have an envelope full of details.’ She pulls it out of her pocket. ‘I’ve read it. Or skimmed.’

Stella takes the envelope and looks through the details. Training with the royal guard, then field duty, before finally becoming Stella’s royal guard. She frowns at the mention of field duty. ‘What if she sends you up against blood witches?’

Beatrix reaches for Stella’s hand and rubs her thumb against the back of it. ‘We both know she will, but I have already faced them. Don’t worry about it, princess.’

Stella feels her smile quirk at the corner of her lips. ‘Know this. If you are to become my guard, I will worry about you endlessly each moment you are and aren’t at my side.’

Beatrix leans her head back against the wall. ‘Having you worry about me?’ She tilts her head to look at Stella. ‘Sounds like the opposite of a problem.’

She just knew Beatrix was going to be her most insufferable and enjoyable guard yet. She had many over the years, with Sky having been the latest. As frightened as she was for Beatrix’s safety, there was a certain joy in knowing she would be by her side.

They spend another hour on that bench, talking idly about what was to come. Beatrix would become a member of the Solarian guard and the future of themselves and Alfea was uncertain.

Stella won’t deny that after a quiet dinner with Beatrix and her suitemates, she enters her room restless, trying to process what had transpired.

Beatrix had willing joined the Solarian guard under the claim of protecting Stella. Stella may not have the most battle-ready magic, but if Beatrix plans to protect her, then she shall protect her equally.

She would become Beatrix’s guard, if only in secret.

She falls asleep with that thought in mind and the hope for a tomorrow where she can remain by Beatrix’s side.

She wakes to a text from Beatrix informing her that she wouldn’t be able to share breakfast with her. The Solarian guards she was to train with had arrived at 5 am to start training at 6. ‘Absolutely torturous,’ Beatrix had texted. ‘I expect a comfortable spot at lunch.’

Stella smiles and sends her a quick text. ‘I promise it will be the most comfortable one in the dining hall.’

She didn’t expect a response. With the way she’d seen the Solarian guard train in the palace, it was from early morning to the afternoon with little time for breaks. She stops the irrational part of herself that wants to rush out in her pyjamas and find Beatrix to ensure she’s being treated well and is doing okay.

The looks she suspects she’d receive from her suitemates are enough to stop her.

Instead, she dresses and takes on the day, waiting for lunch to come so that she could verify that Beatrix was okay.

Several classes later, many spent with an empty seat at her side, it’s finally lunch time. Stella isn’t normally one to rush or run down the halls, but she may have broken that rule, just this once.

She scours the dining hall for a spot to sit, and to her surprise, finds Beatrix had already found one, with her suitemates sitting around it.

Beatrix smiles at her and waves her over.

Stella is quick to bridge the distance between them, immediately sitting at Beatrix’s side, sliding her hand into Beatrix’s and squeezing it. ‘Are you injured? Did they treat you well?’

Beatrix smiles at her, the amusement clear on her face. ‘Stella, relax.’

It’s then that Stella is reminded that her suitemates are sitting around them.

Flora leans forward, her gaze flicking between the two. ‘So, what’s got Stella so worried?’

Terra smiles widely, muttering to herself about whatever she was seeing between them.

Stella makes a small sound and clears her throat, hoping to reduce any flush that was forming in her cheeks. ‘We, um,’ she pauses. How does she even begin to explain this?

Beatrix squeezes her hand. ‘I’m training with the Solarian royal guard to become Stella’s personal guard.’

Or… she could just say that.

They all break out into conversation over that. Each girl speaks over the top of the other, demanding answers while simultaneously congratulating them. Or so it seemed.

When they all quiet down, Aisha speaks first. ‘So, how’d this happen?’

Beatrix answers again. ‘I’m making up for the mistakes I made during the last term.’

Aisha bites her lip. ‘Oh. Well, that’s very noble of you.’

Stella nudges herself closer to Beatrix, their arms brushing against each other. Stella watches as Beatrix pushes a smile onto her face and thanks Aisha. Stella knew the truth. Beatrix didn’t see any of this as noble. She didn’t see standing against what could be her family as noble. She saw it as a duty she must fulfil, to make up for what she had already made up for.

She wishes Beatrix would start doing things for herself, for her life, and for what she hopes to be. She doesn’t want it to be for the wishes of those older and carrying years of ill-made decisions.

Still, there was a sense of pride in the way Beatrix speaks about her training. She mentions how she took down no less than three of the Solarian guards, claiming they fight too uniformly and never expect her swings or magic.

Stella laughs along and holds Beatrix close as she revels in the stories of her day. When the rest of her suitemates leave, Stella checks her for bruises or injuries and finds none.

She can only wish for every day to be the same as this one. Though, she could do without the way her heart races as Beatrix leans in, allowing her to check her shoulders and confirm they too were uninjured. At least she thinks they were. With Beatrix being so close, her only thought was to stop herself from leaning in and-

And nothing. She couldn’t risk their friendship with these thoughts.

Instead, she continues to watch and yearn. She yearns for more between them as equally as she yearns for Beatrix’s safety and the promise that she would return from training the same way she entered. For her skin to be unmarred, her smile to remain unwavering, and her touch to be still just as soothing.

Perhaps she should have thought about it a little more. A week passes and she sits with Beatrix under a willow tree, a handful of sandwiches they’d taken from the dining hall sitting in containers between them.

Beatrix leans back against the tree. ‘Training was interesting today. I spoke to one of the guards, hmm I can’t remember her name, but she said something interesting.’

Stella folds her legs beneath her and takes a bite of her sandwich. ‘Oh? Please do tell.’

Beatrix smirks, picking up her sandwich. ‘She told me you have a crush on someone.’

Stella feels her cheeks flush. She supposes she talked to the female guards often, even recently. She wanted someone neutral to discuss all of her feelings with. Perhaps those feelings were about Beatrix and she had gone into lengthy detail describing how beautiful she was. She hopes they hadn’t told Beatrix it was about her.

She takes another bite of her sandwich and swallows with an awkward laugh. ‘Oh, really? They do enjoy gossiping.’

Beatrix’s smirk falls, turning into something softer. ‘Do I know her?’

Stella lowers her gaze. If she were to her tell the truth, she’d say you know them very well. A mirror would suffice as an answer. She doesn’t. She smiles, looks over at the school, and tells her, ‘Perhaps you do.’

They sit in silence for a few minutes, finishing their sandwiches before Beatrix speaks up. ‘One day I’d like to meet her. You know, to make sure I’m doing my guard duties well.’

She needn’t do anything. She was already exceptional. Stella smiles, ‘I am hopeful that day will come.’

They part half an hour later, having chosen to spend the rest of their time discussing Beatrix’s training at length. Beatrix agrees to allow her to watch during their afternoon training and Stella walks by Beatrix’s side, only splitting away when she moves to grab her gear.

Stella watches with wide eyes and little gasps as Beatrix avoids the hits of the other Solarian guards by mere inches, launching a counter-attack that has them stumbling. She does it again and again without fail. Stella cringes each time, fearing injury.

She hears a voice beside her, breaking her out of her focus. ‘She does well amongst them. Better than some of our best lieutenants.’

Stella turns, giving her mother her attention. ‘Yes, she’s amazing.’ She tries to limit her praise. If her mother was watching the training, it was always because she planned to use the guards soon.

She’s proven right with her mother’s next words. ‘I have heard the news of Blood Witches in the east. A small group has been gathering numbers and possibly weapons to use against us fairies. We must strike before they do.’

Stella returns her gaze to Beatrix, watching her take down one of the guards. ‘So you’re suggesting Beatrix joins them.’

Queen Luna places her hand on Stella’s shoulder, squeezing a bit tighter than was comfortable. ‘I am not suggesting, Stella, I am informing.’

Of course, she shouldn’t have expected anything less from her. ‘I see,’ Stella breathes out.

She balls her hands and tries to keep her focus on Beatrix. Her mother had made a choice and she was trapped in that choice, only able to support Beatrix.

When Beatrix finishes her match, Queen Luna waves her over. ‘Beatrix.’

Beatrix tucks her hands behind her back. ‘Queen Luna.’

Queen Luna smiles and reaches forward, patting her forearm. ‘You have fought with strength and tactics that many could only wish to hold. I will be deploying my guards to face our threat tomorrow and I expect you to be within their ranks.’

Stella whips her head to look at her mother. Tomorrow? She hadn’t said tomorrow.

Beatrix shifts on her feet, looking down at Stella for a moment, her eyes showing the same worry Stella was experiencing. ‘So soon?’

‘Yes,’ Queen Luna confirms, stepping away from Beatrix. ‘I believe you are ready.’

A part of Stella, the kind of part that was irrational and slightly lovesick, wishes that Beatrix would never be ready. It would mean she wouldn’t be deployed, and she wouldn’t have to leave Stella and Alfea for her mother’s missions.

Stella watches as her mother starts to walk away. ‘I need to inform Saul of this. Perhaps you two should say your goodbyes. There is no guarantee that this will be a short mission.’

Stella looks over at Saul who nods, giving her the okay to leave. She’s quick to rise from where she’s seated and reach for Beatrix’s hand, pulling her along.

She’s halfway down a hall when Beatrix tugs her arm, pulling her to a stop.

Stella huffs out a breath and looks resolutely away, She fears that if she looks at Beatrix, she’ll crumble and say everything that’s on her mind and more.

Beatrix walks ahead, standing in front of her. She places a hand on Stella’s cheek. ‘Hey, hey, what’s going on?’

She hates the way her eyes prick at the question. ‘You’re going to be deployed, to fight blood witches of all things.’

Beatrix rubs her thumb against her cheek. ‘Let’s talk about it, maybe not directly in the hall, though.’

Stella nods and allows herself to be led back to her suite and lowered onto the couch. She barely perceives the presence of her suitemates scattered around the common area, being too focused on Beatrix.

Beatrix slides her fingers under Stella’s jaw, turning her to face her. ‘Please talk to me.’

Stella sniffs, hating the way her tears fall against her will. She’d seen the states some of the Solarian guards would return to their quarters in. Unhealed wounds, broken bones, or one less than they’d left with.

She feared all of those with Beatrix. She was brilliant and cunning but that didn’t change the fact that those blood witches could be equally so.

She wipes her eyes as she feels an arm wrap around her shoulder, she turns and meets Musa’s worried eyes.

She voices her fears when she turns back to Beatrix. ‘What if you get hurt?’

Beatrix slides her hand down to rest against Stella’s neck. ‘Then I’ll get better.’

Stella lifts her hands, pressing them to her eyes. How many times could she watch Beatrix get hurt to protect her? What she did with Sebastian was more than enough. Even too much, considering the months of healing.

Musa pushes a tissue into Stella’s hand and leans forward, directing her question to Beatrix. ‘What’s going on here? Why is Stella crying?’

Beatrix sighs and pulls back, settling on holding Stella’s hand instead. ‘Queen Luna believes I’m proficient.’

Stella lifts the tissue, wiping her eyes. She watches as Musa’s eyes narrow. ‘Okay, Queen Luna complimenting you wouldn’t make Stella cry.’

Beatrix squeezes Stella’s hand as she looks around the room at each of Stella’s suitemates before answering. ‘She wants me deployed on a mission. Tomorrow. Well, want is the wrong word. I will be deployed tomorrow.’

Musa slides her hand down, rubbing Stella’s back. ‘Will the two of you be alright with this?’

Stella bites her lip. She knows her crying is her answer. No. She would absolutely not be okay with this.

Beatrix uses her spare hand to brush a few loose strands of hair out of Stella’s eyes. She tilts Stella’s head so that they would be looking at each other once more. ‘I will admit, I am afraid. I fear that on the battlefield I’ll meet my sisters or someone who is or once was, family.’ Beatrix sniffs. ‘But more than anything, I will be okay, because I will return and,’ she pushes a smirk onto her face, ‘I expect all of the praise.’

Terra groans at Beatrix’s last words. ‘Really?’

Beatrix laughs. ‘Would a little praise be that Terra-ble?’

Stella snorts as Beatrix enunciates Terra’s name, watching as the nature fairy rolls her eyes at Beatrix, a smile on her face. ‘I suppose it could Bea worse.’

Stella’s laughter turns to exasperation. If her pushing for her suitemates to bond with Beatrix leads to more of these terrible puns she’s rescinding that decision. Still, at this moment it was nice to laugh, despite knowing what tomorrow would bring.

They spend the next few hours talking through their worries. Beatrix inches closer and closer, and Stella’s cheeks flush brighter. By the end of the night, Beatrix was almost in Stella’s lap, with her arm wrapped around Stella’s waist. If only she could just say ‘I like you!’ or anything that would give Stella an indication that these touches were more than friendship.

When it’s time to leave, Stella walks Beatrix back to her suite, knowing it’s the last time she’d see her for who knows how long.

She holds Beatrix’s hands and holds back everything she wants to admit. ‘I’ll, um, I’ll miss you, you know that?’

Beatrix smiles, squeezing her hands. ‘Careful there, princess, you’re halfway there to a compliment.’

Stella shakes her head. ‘Your amazing, Beatrix. I’ll always have compliments for you.’

Beatrix lowers her head. ‘I’ll miss you too, Stella.’

Stella throws away her propriety and pulls Beatrix in for a hug, she feels the way Beatrix’s arms slowly snake around her back before settling there. ‘You return in one piece, you hear me?’ She sniffs. ‘I haven’t the time to find another guard.’

Beatrix laughs, though Stella can hear the unsteadiness of her voice. ‘Perish the thought, don’t you dare replace me while I’m away.’

Stella takes a deep breath and presses her cheek against Beatrix’s, feeling the wetness that hits her own. ‘I promise.’

They pull away with watery eyes and promise on their tounges. Beatrix would return and Stella would wait for her for however long it takes.

Stella returns to her suite without Beatrix and after waving off her suitemates with the promise that she would be okay, she heads to bed knowing she’d wake to a Beatrix-less Alfea.

When morning calls, she takes longer than usual to wake up. She checks her phone and reads Beatrix’s goodbye message. She wipes her now wet eyes and texts Beatrix, ‘I’ll see you again soon.’

That message sits there for the day and the next. When the third day comes, Stella feels tension pulling at every inch of her body. Realistically she knew Solarian missions could last this long. That doesn’t mean she has to accept it.

In the afternoon, she finally hears the familiar tune of the Solarian army song and rushes outside to meet them.

She pushes through some of the guards with apologies on her lips, searching for Beatrix. Finally, she finds her in the middle, her helmet under her arm.

‘Beatrix,’ she whispers, moving to her side and wrapping her arms around her.

Beatrix immediately presses her face into the crook of Stella’s neck and wraps her arms around her as the other guards walk past them. ‘Are you hurt?’ She questions.

Beatrix pulls back, a smile on her face as she reaches up and grazes her hand along Stella’s cheek. ‘I’m okay.’

Stella nods, feeling relief flood her. She’s okay. She’s alive. She’s home. She reaches for Beatrix’s hand and leads her inside. ‘My suitemates agreed to give us some space, they’ll be out for the next few hours.’

Beatrix’s voice breaks as she speaks, worn from the battle. ‘Lead the way, princess.’

She gently leads Beatrix down the halls and into the suite before pulling her into her bedroom and sitting with her on her bed.

She places her hands on Beatrix’s cheeks and assesses her for new wounds, finding none to mention aside from a small bruise on her neck. She finds her eyes wandering more than a few times to Beatrix’s lips but forces them back up each time. ‘Let me help you with your armour.’

Beatrix smiles and places her hands on top of Stella’s. ‘I can do it.’

Stella shakes her head. ‘Please allow me, after three days it’s the least I can do for you.’

Beatrix nods and Stella begins her work of slowly getting Beatrix out of her armour. She unbuckles the shoulder braces and places them to the side. Each gauntlet slides off, giving her the access she needs to take the main chest piece off leaving her only in armoured pants and a tank top.

She frows as she notices the slight bump under the shirt at Beatrix’s waist. ‘You said you weren’t injured.’

Beatrix’s lips lift into a sheepish smile. ‘It’s really not that bad.’

Stella frowns, Beatrix was willing to hide how bad her injury from Sebastian was. She didn’t trust it to be the truth. Carefully she lifts Beatrix’s shirt, revealing the slightly bloodied bandage underneath.

Her hands shake as she takes in the sight of it. ‘This isn’t bad?’

Beatrix lowers her head, placing her hand against the wound. ‘It’s healing, we were just in a rush and I haven’t had the time to redress it.’

Stella feels her eyes water as her hands graze the bandage. ‘What happened?’

She looks up, seeing the way Beatrix’s tears fall. ‘A blood witch got too close,’ Beatrix admits, rubbing the bandage. ‘I, perhaps they were no one.’ She lifts her hand wiping away her tears as her lip wobbles. ‘But they were young, Stella, I could tell and I was so afraid that under their armour I’d find my sister. I hesitated, foolishly and dangerously, I hesitated.’

Stella pulls Beatrix into her arms, rubbing her back as she sobs. ‘You’re not foolish for caring.’

Beatrix sniffs. ‘How can I be your guard if I hesitate? What if it gets you hurt?’

Stella rubs the back of her neck. ‘So be it. I’d rather be hurt than lose you at my side. I refuse to force you to forget who you are.’

Beatrix’s hands shake against her back. ‘What if one day I’m on the other side of this fight?’

Stella presses her chin against Beatrix’s shoulder. ‘Then I shall be with you.’

Beatrix pulls back, a frown on her face amidst her tears. ‘I could never ask that of you.’

Stella smiles. ‘As equally as I could never ask you to be my guard. Now, let me redress those wounds.’

Beatrix relents and Stella finds herself rubbing her thumbs under Beatrix’s eyes, clearing away her tears. She feels her breathing become unsteady as Beatrix leans in, their lips only inches apart.

She flushes and pulls away. ‘I’ll just grab the medical kit.’

She rises from the bed without a glance back. Too close. Much too close.

She grabs the medical kit from under the sink and takes a deep breath. Do not ruin this with your feelings, Stella, she tells herself.

When she returns to the room, she finds Beatrix sitting on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting for her. Her feelings were getting out of control.

She knees down in front of Beatrix. ‘I’m just going to take this off, okay?’

Beatrix nods and Stella begins the task of carefully unwinding it all and setting it to the side. The wound was thankfully mostly healed, with only a small cut left in its place.

Beatrix places her hand under the shirt, keeping it up as Stella’s hands slide across her stomach to pull the gauze into place. After a few minutes, she pulls back and is happy to declare the job finished.

She looks up to Beatrix to inform her of the fact but finds the words stuck in her throat. The way Beatrix was looking at her was almost-

‘I have a confession to make,’ Beatrix whispers.

Stella slides her hands off Beatrix’s stomach, ‘What is it?’

Beatrix slides one of her hands under Stella’s chin, tilting her head up. ‘I believe I know who your crush is.’

Stella swallows and wets her lips. Perhaps the part of her that had missed Beatrix terribly drives her next words, but she cannot bring herself to care. ‘It’s you,’ she admits.

Beatrix leans down, her lips inches away from Stella’s. ‘I know.’ With those words, she closes the distance, pressing her lips against Stella’s.

Stella’s eyes widen as she processes what was happening. Beatrix was kissing her. Beatrix was- She closes her eyes and slides her hands up, tangling them into Beatrix’s hair. Beatrix sighs into the kiss and Stella pushes that bit further, leaning up to press herself into Beatrix.

She pulls away when Beatrix gasps, worried that she’d hurt her. ‘Are you okay?’ She finds herself asking.

Beatrix laughs and pulls her back in. ‘That wasn’t a pained sound.’

Stella is quick to catch on to her meaning as Beatrix pulls her up and into the bed. She’s careful to avoid getting too close, stopping herself from knocking into Beatrix’s wound.

She lies at Beatrix’s side, her hand against her hip and her lips pressing gently against her neck where the bruise sat. ‘I don’t think I can handle another injury on you.’

Beatrix sighs and rubs her back. ‘There will always be another. But never one that will stop me from coming back to you.’

Stella smiles, her fingers thumbing the edge of Beatrix’s shirt. ‘That’s a rather large promise.’

Beatrix returns the smile and leans forward. ‘It’s one I intend to keep.’ Her lips return to Stella and to every part of Stella she can reach. Stella sighs into each kiss but they don’t venture too far, cautious of Beatrix’s wound.

Stella pulls back and presses her hand to Beatrix’s cheek. ‘I love you.’

Beatrix’s cheeks flush. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying there, princess.’

Stella shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. ‘No, for the first time, I believe I do.’

She watches as Beatrix’s lips wobble and the same words tumble out of her mouth. ‘I love you too, princess.’

With those words, more than a few kisses are shared before it’s agreed that a shower is needed after returning from deployment. Beatrix refuses to shower first, claiming that Stella had already offered her plenty.

Stella rolls her eyes with a smile but agrees. She showers quickly and starts to search for some clothes for Beatrix. With no clean shirts or pants of her own, Stella rummages through her wardrobe for something Beatrix could wear. She settles on a pink button-down shirt that looks to be Beatrix’s size and some loose pants. They create a protection for the bandages to waterproof them for the shower.

She sits on the edge of her bed and waits.

When Beatrix returns to her room, the shirt hanging loosely off her shoulders, Stella finds herself having to force her mouth closed. ‘Did you know that you’re beautiful?’

Beatrix smiles and moves across the room, settling onto Stella’s lap, her legs on each side of Stella’s. She slides her hands up to Stella’s neck, ‘You should know how beautiful you are too, Stella.’

Stella smiles and rests her own hands against Beatrix’s hips. ‘Enlighten me.’

Beatrix answers with a kiss, slowly pulling Stella through the motions of it. Stella tightens her grip on Beatrix’s hips when Beatrix deepens the kiss. She groans and pulls back. ‘You’re injured.’

Beatrix shrugs. ‘I’m making up for the lost time.’

Stella closes her eyes and tries to centre herself. There was nothing she wanted more than to make up for all of the times she had told herself no. But, they could do so once Beatrix was healed.

She smiles instead. ‘Lie down with me.’

Beatrix pouts but concedes, lying by her side. Stella gently tugs her backwards, spooning her in her arms. ‘Will this suffice?’

Beatrix hums and pushes herself against Stella’s chest. ‘For now.’

They fall asleep soon after in each other's arms and awake to a message from Queen Luna, requesting their presence in her office.

It takes them slightly longer than it should for them to get dressed, sharing kisses between each item they pulled on. She finds Beatrix a black shirt amongst her clothes, sad to see the pink one go.

They walk together hand-in-hand to Queen Luna’s office. This time was different. They held hands in a way that represented more.

When they enter the office, Queen Luna gestures for them to sit on the couch in front of her. Queen Luna pushes a glass of water in front of them both and starts to speak. ‘I’ve called you both here to talk about Beatrix’s mission.’

Stella finds herself reaching for that glass and taking a large sip.

Queen Luna smiles and continues. ‘You did well, from what I hear, Beatrix.’ She pulls out a letter. ‘Which is why I intend for you to be officially Stella’s personal guard.’

Stella blinks. Beatrix was to be her guard? She turns to face her. ‘Are you sure you want this? I will never force this on you.’

Beatrix places her hand on Stella’s knee. ‘I’m sure. I’m doing this because I want to, Stella.’

Stella smiles. ‘Okay.’

Beatrix copies the action. ‘Okay.’

With those words, it becomes a reality. Beatrix was to be her guard and while not official, Stella would be hers. She would never allow Beatrix to be injured again if she had any say in it.

Once they leave the room, Beatrix smirks and kneels in front of her, reaching for her hand. ‘My princess.’

Stella laughs and accepts a kiss on her hand before pulling Beatrix up. ‘My guard.’ She slides her hand under Beatrix’s chin and pulls her in for a brief kiss. ‘My heart.’

Beatrix smiles and they walk back to the suite. It takes an hour but eventually, her suitemates are updated on the change of title and everything that happened during Beatrix’s deployment.

Stella holds her hand as she speaks, a smile on her face. She had not expected their relationship to ever lead to this. She had even feared that this change would result in Beatrix serving her and their friendship would be ruined.

This was far better. Each day would be a day they wake for each other. Whatever Beatrix gives her, she plans to give in return.

Never again would she allow someone to define Beatrix. They had each other and they would do this together.

Her guard, My guard. They had begun to mean the same thing.

#fate: the winx saga #stella of solaria #stella #beatrix daniels #beatrix #stella x beatrix #stellatrix #ftws #fate the winx saga #myfics

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dragonfly0808 · 2 years

Note

I can’t stop thinking for bloom drawing random doodles in class or literally anywhere but Stella absolutely loves colouring them in like she gets so focused that the group like to take the piss of her concentration

Griselda was more than used to having students that weren’t able to focus. She’d been teaching for a long while after all.

She was covering for Kathy in Basic Spells, observing the girls known as the Winx, since she’d only seen them in Defense so far since she wouldn’t get classroom classes with them until they were in third year.

She was glad she had another half year without them in her classroom.

Flora was fine, she was obviously very dedicated, even though everyone knew she was a Potions prodigy and was Palladium’s favorite student in the past decade, she was obviously still dedicated to every single subject, dutifully taking notes and paying attention.

Tecna seemed more interested in whatever the machine she was tinkering with was. Aisha had lost her train of thought staring at Tecna as she worked.

Musa had taken notes for the first half of the class and now she had music sheets on top of her notebook, working on something, occasionally throwing airplanes at some of the girls to get their attention and whisper for a moment before getting back to her music sheets.

Bloom was alternating between taking notes and doodling. Stella had lost her concentration ten minutes prior and was using Bloom’s wooden colors to color in Bloom’s doodles, trying to replicate her drawings to… curious results.

She stopped talking as Stella picked up a green pencil to color in a unicorn Bloom had drawn.

Flora and Bloom exchanged glances, wondering why she’d stopped. The rest of the students seemed to notice at once, looking up at her. The only one still with her head in the clouds was Stella, who was still coloring.

Griselda waited, watching her.

Bloom elbowed Stella as Musa kicked her in the ankle. Stella looked up, her eyes widening when they meet Griselda’s.

She looked up to the rest of the class, “I understand this is the last class of the day, but I would appreciate it if you attempted to pay attention.” She stepped closer to Bloom and Stella, looking down at her notebook, “Miss Hanlon… unicorns are only ever white, purple and pink.”

Stella smiled nervously, “I know… Bloom didn’t bring her purple colors today and the pink shades don’t go with the unicorn.”

“And lime green does?”

Musa snorted, Stella smiled awkwardly.

Griselda sighed heavily before turning back to the blackboard.

#winx club #winx rewrite #winx #winx headcannon #winx stella #winx bloom #winx sky #winx brandon #winx flora #winx helia #winx musa #winx griselda

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cebwrites · 2 years

Text

heaven, when i held you again

a/n: some art from @musa-gking has ya boy ugly crying in the club tonight so this soft bitch is once writing his tender feelings away 🥺🥺💖😭💕

oc x canon (ReKiLaw) he/they law word count: 0.5k

Windchimes - something soft, gentle - a sound he’s all too familiar with that conjures up images of playing on the deck of his father’s ship with the sun’s warmth kissing their faces. Kirin is hesitant to break this comfortable pocket he’s carved for himself under the blankets, but wafts of Reiji’s cooking gets him to peer his head up anyway.

He stretches, testing if he’d be able to resist the allure of sleeping in more in lieu of grabbing whatever Recchan had going for breakfast.

Nope, far too comfy.

The lump beside Kirin mumbles something incoherent, arms around his waist. Yet another reason not leave their pillowy sanctuary greets him with half an eye cracked open and tufts of hair sticking in every which way. Was it possible for a heart to melt and accelerate at the same time?

“Kir’n.”

“Mornin’, Law.”

Neither of them are entirely awake yet, one less so than the other, but they simply bask in each other’s presence, what little light the curtains allow to stream in paints the room in glimmers of white here and there. It’d be too bright to sleep in soon, the captains can already hear familiar heel clicks across the deck with a list of chores to assign - but at least for now, their peace is undisturbed.

Law makes another noise when Kirin shifts, “I’m just sitting up, love,” he meets their forehead with a kiss, preening when a careful hand finds its way into his hair. Kirin intertwines his fingers with the other ‘DEATH’ laying on Law’s chest.

“We don’t have anything important today, right?”

“If we don’t take into account any impromptu marine, pirate, or Mugiwara-ya attacks, then no. Our schedule is free, darling.”

Kirin sees the smug little cat grin yet can’t help but flush anyway.

Hook, line, and sinker. He’s fallen right into the doctor’s trap. His arms. Their heart. God, Kirin’s so head over heels he’s giddy about it. His only recourse is covering Law’s face in stinky morning kisses. There’s a struggle, laughter, tickles, and squawking - they’re breathless by the end of it.

Two knocks on the door break them out of it as Reiji steps in, wiping damp hands on his apron, “Sorry, was I interrupting something?” he asks gently, but the smile on his face knows that they’d never consider his presence intrusive.

“No, we’re just getting up.”

“And failing. Come back to sleep with us, Recchan~”

“I’m covered in grease, Captain. ”

Kirin gets a light swat for his ‘so?’ followed by a smooch on the cheek, as does Law, giggles turning into whines when his co-cap scooches to the edge of the bed. His complaints die down as Law reminds him that they can’t let Reiji’s food go cold, so Kirin settles on just a light pout instead.

Reiji shuffles them out of the room with crumbs of affection here and there, the captains greet other bleary-eyed nakama with non-committal noises when they sit down for breakfast, sitting obnoxiously close with Kirin’s leg over Law’s lap under the table. Few people that are there to see it either roll their eyes or pretend not to notice the common occurrence.

Clouds shield them from the sun’s harsher rays, crew members file in to start their day, windchimes ring faintly in the background of their domesticity - all is well.

#cebwrites #one piece #one piece law #op ocs #op kirin #op reiji #rekilaw #oc x character #oc x canon #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d water law #op law #law x oc #fluff #one piece fluff #tooth rotting fluff #writing and sobbing at the same time is hard lol #cev is very tender rn

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winxrewritingsandfictions · 1 year

Text

Time of Wars Part 5

Stella was coming back from the northwest side of the city. She had met up with a few smugglers with the help of Musa. These men were criminals, but anyone here was a criminal. This society was upside down. Being a criminal meant being against the rules, rules set up by the archaic and diabolical king. Both women were walking back to the headquarters, blueprints in one hand, a satisfied smile on their lips. Stella looked indecently proud of herself. She felt confident in her wetsuit and her messy ponytail. Of course, glossy lips and orange eyeshadow were still mandatory for the princess.

Musa, next to her, looked relaxed and smug. Walking with her hands behind her head, she was humming a song. She was wearing baggy leather pants and a few chains circled her waist. Her red top covered her breast and a ripped leather jacket fell on her pale shoulders. She wore sneakers with cleats, which were really useful when it came to spying. These shoes gripped any material. Her hair was shorter, right under her breast. They were perfectly straight. Half of her face was hidden behind it. She had red eyeliner and blue mascara. Stella had told her a million times how it suited her new style. Musa had only shrugged.

A few people saluted the two fairies while they entered the headquarters' main room. Tecna was sitting there, her purple hair standing out around the futuristic, rather dark, decoration. The room contrasted drastically with the one shown on the gigantic screen. On the right, they could see a picture of Bloom. Right under it, there was a blueprint of the building she and Aisha had infiltrated. Next to Tecna was Marcus. The man looked unpleased, even pissed.

True to herself, Stella decided to interrupt the quiet meeting:

“Isn't that our sweet, gentle Marcus?” Said the blond. “What do you think Musa. Doesn’t he look stunning?”

“Totally! What a womanizer…” said Musa in return, laughing a little.

Their sneaky grin and insolent attitude got them a glare from their boss. He turned toward them and bite his tongue.

“Girls! I hope you manage to get the blueprints I asked you to… Get.”

“Steal is the world you are looking for,” said Stella.

“Who do you think we are!” Said Musa, smugly. “A little distraction and the fools were at our feet.” She looked toward the blond who shared a knowing smile with her. “Like stealing candy from a baby, really.”

On the other side of the screen, Sky and Brandon couldn’t believe their eyes. First Bloom, now them. Were they really the Winx? Both friends looked at each other, then arched an eyebrow toward the rest of the people in the room. They all shared a surprised expression. Samara gasped a little bit at how the girls were dressed. Bloom had worn something sexy indeed, but seeing Musa’s outfit, the queen had a little stroke. She was certainly not used to these sorts of outfits. They were far from classy.

“Perfect!” said Marcus shortly.

“Where is Flora?” Asked Musa,

“With Tejanos and Zyrah. They are dealing with the new ships for the drones and making sure our shipments are secured and on the road.”

Both fairies nodded their head. Tecna just held her hand toward her friends, not taking her eyes away from Bloom’s screen.

“We have company girls.” She finally said while dropping a new page on the screen. A few seconds later, the Winx could see a room full of people, and then, in front, three well-built men. Stella's eyes instantly glimmered. A sly smile appeared on her lips, and she winked at Musa who snorted, already amused by her friend’s behavior.

“Well, isn’t that Heraklion’s royal council?” Sneakered the fairy.

“Still alive?” Added Musa, still looking away.

Both men couldn’t believe their hears. And their eyes. They looked so nonchalant. Musa’s remark. Stella being… Not already all over Brandon? Yes, they were different. But who wouldn’t change after so much time and war?

“Does Bloom know?” Musa asked, talking about the group from Heraklion.

“As if I wouldn’t!”

The screen opened once again Bloom’s window. She was walking down a corridor.

“Wait so she could hear everything?” Said Brandon.

“She is still able to hear everything. Hello to you too, Brandon.”

Stella laughed out loud. She was enjoying the turn of events. After what the boys had pulled on both princesses, they had it hard. They were still salty about being left behind, once again!

Sky focused back on her screen. She was now alone. But for how long?

“Well, congratulations Bloom. Your last demonstration was impressive. You left a room full of knights and soldiers dumbfounded.” Told her Marcus.

“You are welcome.” Said the redhead, not caring much.

“Bloom, according to the blueprints Stella and Musa just stole, you need to go to the east wing," said Tecna, "it shouldn’t be too difficult. I’m sending the itinerary to your eyeShip.”

“What am I looking for?”

“The routers' room. From there, I will be able to hack their system. But remember, once inside, you will only have a few minutes.”

“Right.”

“Good luck!”

As soon as Tecna pronounced those words, Bloom received the right itinerary on her eyeShip. Without any hesitation, the young woman took the right path. It would take her at least half an hour to reach it. The site was gigantic, but she wasn’t worried. Soon enough she would make it and Tecna would be able to hack anything she needed. And Bloom wasn’t alone. Darius and Aisha were close too.

Speaking of the water fairy, Bloom received a call from her.

“What’s up?”

“You better come to the north wing. We found something very, very interesting.”

“Aisha, I just got the itinerary for the routers room, I can’t.”

“Believe me when I say this is more important!” declared Aisha.

“What is it?!” added Bloom, annoyed.

“Kids.” Said Darius.

“Kids? Kids as in children?”

“Yes!” replied the young man.

“What the hell?!”

“All of those kids were listed in the folders where you found Sky’s name…” Added Aisha.

“Kidnapped?”

“Well, from the look of things, I doubt they chained themselves to the walls and starved themselves on purpose.”

Bloom was thinking fast… They did plan on kidnapping heirs of other kingdoms!

“She is coming.” Said Darius. He knew the woman well enough to know that she would never abandon children.

On Heraklion, no one uttered a word. They knew exactly what this meant.

“There is something that I don’t get,” said Musa, suddenly much more serious than earlier, “if they were all kidnapped, why is Sky still on Heraklion when, literally, he was on top of the list?”

All were silent. That was an excellent question.

“I hope for you all that this really isn’t a trap and that they really want Sky’s skin and not Bloom’s, because, if you needed a reminder, Bloom is also a powerful heiress in our dimension. And let’s face it, from our experience and a bit of common sense, what sounds more interesting to you? A powerful army or the Dragon Flame?”

Sky had to exhale loudly, rubbing his face. Musa was right. This could go really badly.

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

Tadaaa! Hehe, what do you think? I'm working on the last chapters.

Here are a few of my stories :

Game of Minds Part 1

Witch love : Part 1

coffee break : Part 1

#winx #winx club #winx fanfiction #fanfiction #bloom x sky #musa x riven #stella x brandon

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simplytheevebest · 2 years

Note

for the ask game: Road Trip

The prompt: a road trip with the Winx girls and Farah. The plot: secondary. It doesn't have to make sense, and it doesn't. Post s1, Farah is recovering at the Peters' while the girls hold down the fort at Alfea -until a major confrontation with Rosalind burns Alfea to the ground. Now they're driving cross-country (California to Tennessee) because I say so, and to throw Rosalind off their trail they stop at several landmarks and attractions, like the world's largest ball of twine.

Farah’s jolts awake as the car slows almost to a stop, not even aware she’d fallen asleep in the first place, but it’s not the rapid decrease in movement that has her sitting up, it’s Stella’s gasp. What she assumes, with a pounding heart and head to match, is a gasp of fear, is actually one of delight. Bloom rolls down the window to speak into the oversized microphone, then turns back to her companions: they’re at a Starbucks.

“Orders people, let me have them.”

“Pink drink extra strawberry pump with coconut milk please,” is Stella’s demand.

“In the morning?” Terra questions, but wastes no more time ordering her own drink, Aisha and Musa right behind her. Bloom parrots them to the barista, then turns expectantly to her headmistress.

“Coffee.”

“Duh,” Bloom replies in a tone that would normally have Farah calling her out on it. “Cream, sugar? Caramel pump? Foam?”

“Black, please.”

“Size?”

“Medium.”

Farah knows that’s not what it’s called here, but she’s only ever been to a Starbucks on a layover for a long haul from Newark to San Diego and having had absolutely no reason to remember the difference between a venti and a grande, she quickly deleted that information from her mind. She’d had far greater things to worry about, at the time, like the potential changeling she’d been on her way to meet. The same changeling blinking at her from the driver’s seat.

“Ma’am? Anything else?” The tinny voice of the barista asks, and Bloom leans back out the window.

“A tall regular black coffee, and six croissants, thank you.”

“Please pull around to pay.”

Farah’s palm has found a permanent resting place against her forehead, trying to knead the tension from it: so close to what she presumes is a heavily populated area, her magic has taken advantage of her minimal-rest to reach out, inviting far more thoughts than she’s awake enough to process. Someone nearby, likely within the very building they’re waiting outside of, is projecting a very loud, angry conversation with their cheating spouse, and Farah grinds her teeth, the lapse in decorum not missed by her former students; she’s too tired and stressed to rectify it immediately. She manages to smooth her expression by the time the coffee is handed to her, thankfully easily identifiable from Bloom’s by it’s plainness: the girl’s own cup is almost overflowing with whipped cream and what might be chocolate sprinkles. Though Farah prefers tea, generally, coffee is her vice for a quick caffeine boost, but she’s never understood the need to disguise it behind copious amounts of flavored syrup and sugar. The coffee is bitter and probably not worth it’s price; the croissant is probably good, but chewing takes the energy Farah is relying on the coffee to give her, and the single bite she manages is heavy and tasteless on her tongue.

“We’re about four and a half hours from Yosemite,” Bloom reports, and though Farah had heard her declaration of destination earlier, it’s only now it sinks in. She recalls with startling clarity the location of the national park being perpendicular to their route.

“Bloom-”

“I know, Miss Dowling, I know it’s out of the way. But the less predictable we are, the less likely we’ll be easily tracked. If she follows us, she’s going to have to figure out where we’re going to figure out where we are, and I refuse to make it easy for her.”

“Hear hear,” Musa chants.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the sudden burst of energy on top of the exhaustion, maybe it’s the stress of the situation, or maybe it’s a combination of it all, but Farah’s almost impressed at Bloom’s thinking, which is at least fifty percent ruled by teenage impulsivity, and fifty percent sound logic. Sixty-forty. Still, if they’re destined to flee across states Farah’s unfamiliar with, in a country she’s only been to once, in a world foreign to everyone in the car but the teenager behind the wheel, they might as well make the most of it. She won’t begrudge the girls for even having a little fun with it. They’re going to be trapped in the car for hours on end anyway, there might as well be worthwhile destinations beyond a motel or hotel. It won’t do anything for her stress levels, but the longer they’re out here, the better chance she has of replenishing her magic. The first world isn’t entirely bereft, after all, it’s only lost its roots, and what better place to recharge from the nature around her than a national park?

#fate winx saga #fate: the winx saga #fate the winx saga #ftws #fate asks #fate ask game #fate fics

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zelihatrifles · 2 years

Text

The Ministry of Utmost Happiness

Don’t know why exactly but it took me quite a while to even start writing about this much-heard-of book by the fiery Arundhati Roy. It spans two different kinds of communities that are pushed to the peripheries for different reasons, and their fight, as one character rightly feels, is More than Azadi, now it's a fight for dignity. In a world where normality is a bit like a boiled egg: its humdrum surface conceals at its heart a yolk of egregious violence, it is certainly not an easy thing to pursue. Roy writes of the nonchalance of perpetrators as they go on with their ‘normal’ lives and it chills you to your marrow: The saffron men sheathed their swords, laid down their tridents and returned meekly to their working lives, answering bells, obeying orders, beating their wives and biding their time until their next bloody outing.

Roy is a well-known advocate of the separatism of Kashmir. While i do not have any authority to argue about its rights or lefts, i can hardly stop myself from feeling this sinking feeling every time i read about violence in the novel. It was probably Tilo who once wrote in her journal: I would like to write one of those sophisticated stories in which even though nothing much happens there’s lots to write about. That can’t be done in Kashmir. It’s not sophisticated, what happens here. There’s too much blood for good literature. Raises quite a few questions about sensationalism, acceptability of violence, and high literature, doesn’t it? Broken blinded injured Kashmiris arouse not your sympathy but your deepest admiration because You don't know how radiantly we smile when our hearts are broken. Musa tries to explain to his ever-young daughter Miss Jebeen why trust is a rarity in his homeland: I took you for a walk (and you were angry with the cat who wouldn’t trust you and refused the piece of bread you offered him. We’re all becoming a bit like that cat, jaana, we can’t trust anyone. And really, truly, how can you, when everyone around you is trying to take advantage of you in all ways possible? Musa would have dearly liked to kill that heinous bastard Amrik Singh, but he was killed pathetically, not by guns but by horrified remorse, and Musa’s interpretation of this again makes you rethink about what side you’re on and what side you should be: One day, Kashmir will make India self-destruct in the same way. You may have blinded all of us, every one of us, with your pellet guns by then. But you will still have eyes to see what you’ve done to us. You’re not destroying us, you’re constructing us. It’s yourselves that you are destroying.

In spite of all this war and brutality, love never exits the hearts of these persecuted people, be it the Kashmiris, or the hijras, or the radical tribals. Love for their community is all-embracing, just like Tilo perceives Musa’s love for his people, the way he belonged so completely to a people whom he loved and laughed at, complained about and swore at, but never separated himself from. Love for their soulmate, from whom they got separated due to the revolvings of the world, but returned to again, if only for a week's worth of lovemaking on shikaras, only to meet incognito for years afterwards, and then die predictably. Tilo and Musa’s love story is at the heart of one of the narrative strands in the novel, and they belong to each other, even when really really far away, because Tilo used to think of Musa as her people: They had been a strange country together for a while, an island republic that had seceded from the rest of the world. Their relationship was one that complemented each other: They had always fitted together like pieces of an unsolved (and perhaps unsolvable) puzzle - the smoke of her into the solidness of him, the solitariness of her into the gathering of him, the strangeness of her into the straightforwardness of him, the insouciance of her into the restraint of him. The quietness of her into the quietness of him. It is in passages like this that you realise Roy’s gift for writing about both love and war in equally haunting ways. Even when these two lovers are discussing Musa’s deceased wife, there is no malice, no resentment that is expected, because their love is simply too deep, too eternal to be defeated to petty emotions like jealousy: It was possible for Tilo and Musa to have this strange conversation about a third loved one, because they were concurrently sweethearts and ex-sweethearts, lovers and ex-lovers, siblings and ex-siblings, classmates and ex-classmates.

The other love story of the novel is that of Anjum and life and daughters. The old Delhi environment that Roy creates so beautifully through the cusses, smells, fragrances, colours and sounds seeps through the pages and stands in front of you, real as the violence lying hidden in us all. It is Anjum’s search for happiness that begins the novel and also ends it. She is not always someone you can admire whole-heartedly, because she knows the role of cruelty and its acceptance in her life: she had learned from experience that Need was a warehouse that could accommodate a considerable amount of cruelty. She knew the real truths about adjustment. Language is also sometimes a barrier, which makes us wonder: Was it possible to live outside language? Roy comments on the lack of closure in real life too, and the ultimate inconclusiveness of it, because maybe that's what life is, or ends up being most of the time: a rehearsal for a performance that never eventually materializes. The first Miss Jebeen dies long before she can flaunt either her Jebeen-ness or Miss-hood. So, it automatically falls upon Miss Jebeen the Second, to shoulder these grave responsibilities. Her past remains a mystery until a letter from her biological mother, radical activist tribal, confesses the truth just before dying. That almost starts off a(n unconsciously revolutionary) new greeting system, because ‘Lal Salaam Aleikum,’ was Anjum’s inadvertent, instinctive response to the end of the letter. That could have been the beginning of a whole political movement, but she had only meant it in the way of an ‘Ameen’ after listening to a moving sermon.

And this is exactly what stays with you long after you read this book. As it was with me too. I felt like i needed to let some time pass before writing about this experience, so that i might be able to do it justice in some way. The only fault of Roy here may be that she tackles multiple issues at the same time in the book. While each issue is relevant in its own right, dealing with all together serves to dilute their impact, even if just by a little. But this was an absolute masterpiece by Arundhati Roy, and long after i’d have forgotten all the character names and even major themes, i’d remember how reading it made me feel.

#the ministry of utmost happiness #arundhati roy #indian literature #books #reading #currently reading #favourite #postcolonial literature #anti war #kashmir #impressions not reviews

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hardynwa · 10 months

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How Nigeria’ll fight insecurity — Service chiefs

The Chief of Defence Staff, General Christopher Musa, has pledged to involve Nigerians in the fight against insecurity in the country. This is just as he said the armed forces would drive the onslaught against insecurity in line with the laws of the land. General Musa also identified the thematic focus of his leadership to include people-centric, troops welfare, and inter-agency collaboration. The CDS disclosed these when he appeared for screening before the House of Representatives ad hoc committee on screening of service chiefs on Monday. The new service chiefs, it would be recalled, were earlier screened last week by the Senate following the appointment by President Bola Tinubu. “I recognise the significance of leading the thousands of devoted and distinguished service men and women to provide a secure and peaceful environment for Nigerian people to freely engage in their legitimate enterprise, in line with the constitutional mandate of the Armed Forces of Nigeria. “In this regard, the AFN under my leadership will be people-centric by prioritizing and safeguarding our people and their legitimate way of life as prescribed by the Nigerian constitution,’’ he said. On the welfare of military personnel, he said, “Service men and women of the AFN should be reassured of my commitment to their welfare, provision of relevant operational equipment as well as infrastructural development within available resources to enable them to succeed in assigned constitutional roles. “I shall also promote international military cooperation/collaboration to further expose and provide capacity building to AFN personnel in joint and combined operations outside the shores of Nigeria. “This measure is required to consolidate on AFN welfare priorities in order to effectively deploy, fight and win our nation’s wars by providing ready, prompt and sustained land, sea and air dominance by the AFN across traditional as well as asymmetric conflict settings as part of a joint force,” he said. On his part, the Chief of Army Staff, Major Gen Taoreed Lagbaja, promised to make the most of his appointment. Lagbaja said: “I consider my nomination as a call to higher responsibilities and I am determined not to betray the trust and confidence reposed in me. ‘’It is an open secret that our country has faced a challenging security environment in the past two decades. It has impacted adversely on our socio-economic and political lives. “The episodic crises of the past have now become enduring, thereby making governance and the rule of law more challenging for successive administrations. ‘’Never in recent times is the requirement for proactive, adaptive and inclusive leadership more needed than in Nigeria’s security environment of today. “These requirements are what I intend to do as COAS if confirmed. I am mindful that the Nigerian Army, which I am being screened to lead, is a crucial component of our military instrument of national power. “It is not only the largest, but the most complex, most geographically spread, most sought after during crisis and often most misunderstood. “I believe that for the Nigerian Army to grapple with the demands of the contemporary security environment, it would consistently transform to be a step ahead of its time. “For this reason, I conceptualize my philosophy of command as to transform the Nigerian Army into a well-trained, equipped and highly motivated force towards achieving our constitutional responsibilities within a joint environment. ‘’I intend to partner with the National Assembly and other stakeholders in achieving this command philosophy.’’ Speaking earlier at the meeting, chairman of the committee, Babajimi Benson, charged the armed forces to synergize with sister agencies in the bid to rid the country of insecurity. “The House of Representatives is delighted with the successes recorded so far, especially in the last one year. We acknowledge these robust achievements which is a proof of the level of professionalism often displayed by our military in the discharge of their duties. Collaboration with sister agencies crucial’ “We urge you to effectively collaborate with sister security agencies to ensure that all security threats are completely neutralised, and Nigerians can live peacefully. “The world of security is dynamic and ever-changing. New security threats are emerging across the globe. Today, wars are not only fought on land, sea and air but also in cyberspace. “Consequently, the art of warfare must, therefore, be a step ahead. This is why Nigeria must tap into and harness the potential of having a Defence Space Force, like in the United States of America. ‘’While acknowledging the immense contributions of the Defence Space Administration, there is a need for a full-fledged Defence Space Force to adequately handle potential threats from cyberspace and provide intelligence support to other services “We must, therefore, work collectively to deliver more on the goals of this administration to drastically reduce cases of insecurity across the country. “While the House will continue to support this vision through our legislative activities, we shall also embark on rigorous oversight exercises, beginning from this screening, to ensure that the Armed Forces of Nigeria adhere strictly to the provisions of all Appropriation Acts as will be eventually passed by the National Assembly and accented to by Mr. President,” he said. Read the full article

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simsparrows · 2 years

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The summer sun baked the valley even as it began its sleepy fall over the horizon.

Under its constant heat, the mothers of the village gathered with their children.

The children babbled and cooed in the langage only babies can understand.

Little Anza was bouncing along as her mother clapped on her treelog, the little dancer in her loving the attention and the awwws from the other mothers.

Sparrow was finding it hard to sit and talk about grown matters. She couldn't help but stand and talk to her children or focus on how they were moving. Her dear friend Tsala eventually called her back to the log so they could chat.

Karvoka, Tsala’s youngest was still learning to walk confidently on his two feet. Most of the time, to the utter delight of the other toddlers, he liked to drag his body on the ground like the snakes that slithered into their camps late at night.

Rain found Karvoka’s animal impression utterly charming and clapped vigorously for her ember-haired friend.

The adults on the other hand were deep into conversations of varying seriousness.

Skita unfortunately found herself being lectured by her own mother, the blind and often forgetful Onka.

Even from far away, Sparrow could tell the conversation was wearing on Skita’s patience. Onka, the old woman, was known to nag and berate Her favorite topic of belittlement to her daughter was her choice in husband and her inability to have more children.

Poor Skita had gone against her mother’s wishes and became second wife to Felix. Onka lectured that Skita was fit for duty as a first wife and that she had settled terribly. No matter how much Skita reminded Onka that their way of life was upended by a disastrous flood that wiped out their people, which meant that she was free from so any of the expectations and customs of her former people. Monogamy was the common marriage belief amongst the people of this tribe. Onka didn’t seem to absorb that information.

“Oh she’s scolding her again,” Eagle whispered. Tsala and Sparrow leaned in close. “Poor dear.”

Tsala turned back to Sparrow, changing the subject. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you, little bird, what do you think of Musa and Gharr?”

“Oh,” Sparrow said taken aback by the question. She thought of the unpleasant moment she first met them and frowned ever so slightly.

Tsala seemed to take that minute flick of Sparrow’s lips as her anser.

“I don’t particularly trust them.” Tsala admitted. “Gharr’s wife is fine enough although she married a brute....Musa and his wife though....”

“What?” Sparrow asked, leaning in intently. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. “I was taken off guard by meeting him. I guess I don’t know him well enough to make an assessment.”

Little Hali and Dukoo’s playful screams took the women’s attention.

Sparrow took the opportunity to visually sweep the area for her children.

Rain was pretending she was a bird, flying high through the cloud dusted sky as Karvoka wobbled on his uncertain legs.

River was content playing in the mud pile by herself.

Sparrow tuned in briefly to listen to Crena tell Rose about a nasty bug that her husband Stabbakk found on his chest when he rose at dawn. The conversation was relatively tame and she moved on to Sasta.

Sasta was delighting in the children’s fascination with her.

As Sasta clasped her hands---

--- the little ones copied her.

Sparrow kept her eyes o little Dukoo as he zoomed around the pen. She looked back to Eagle and Tsala and asked, “What tragedy befell Gharr and Musa to make them clandless?”

Tsala was about to answer when suddenly the children stopped their joyous play and collectively had a meltdown.

“Oh thank the, Watcher.” Skita grumbled loud enough for the others to hear. She was looking to go home and find some other distraction from her mother to fixate on.

All at once it seemed the children had soiled themselves and the resulting mess made them fussy.

Rora went in first to fetch little Anza who was somehow the only baby not crying out.

Sparrow turned back to Tsala and Eagle and murmured low, “Let’s finish this conversation later.” The three of them nodded.

“Well,” Rora said in her breathy voice. “I guess the play is over for now.”

Not long after Rora exited the pen, the other mothers went to collect their children.

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imhereformr · 2 years

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“This is stupid--I’m stupid.”

As a request for Rivusa;;

The sound of piano keys clanged through the apartment. Riven closed the front door behind him and went to put the grocery bag in the kitchen, finding himself thankful that the walls in this building were thick. When he’d left half an hour earlier, Musa had been at her piano trying to write. It was the first time she’d sat at the piano since her father had passed five months earlier. Riven could have cried tears of joy. She’d been so broken after losing her dad that she’d barely sung, much less written or played a single note (apart from one song at his funeral that she’d broken down halfway through and barely been able to carry on). To hear her say I think I want to get some writing done tonight had been like hearing her say I love you for the first time all over again. Absolute bliss.

Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. He’d never heard her smash at the keys before and it concerned him.

Torn or balled up pieces of paper littered the floor of the spare room they used as a music room. He kicked a few pieces together as he entered, eyeing his now stone-still girlfriend with concern. Her back was to him, but he could see in the way that her fingers trembled as they brushed over the keys that something was off. “Muse? Everything okay?”

“Mhm” came her response, short and strained. She was trying not to cry. At 18 he never would have figured that out. Hell, at 22 he would have had an inkling but doubted himself into thinking he was imagining it. One breakup, some therapy, and 3 years back together had done them so much good. This time around, they had taken the time to really get to know each other and break down the walls that both of them had built up so tall. Riven was sure he knew every single one of Musa’s mannerisms and tones better than his own.

He took a seat on the piano bench, back to the piano, and reached for her hand. It fit perfectly in his – all of her did – and the trembles subsided a bit. He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, letting silence settle around them as he tried to find the words to lull her into a calmness and get her to open up. Therapy – both individual and as a couple – had done them wonders, but vulnerability was still a weak point for them; that ease and peace needed to be there before either of them spilled their hearts.

“This is so fucking stupid. I’m… I’m so fucking stupid” she whispered, her voice breaking near the end, before he could fully formulate his calming speech. His eyes found their way to her, but she didn’t meet them. Her head was down, staring at her feet on the pedals. He could see the tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes, slowly dripping onto her cheeks.

“What?” His question was left unanswered as Musa pulled her hand from his and slammed the piano lid shut. She turned away from him and walked out of the room. He debated letting her go, but his gut told him he should follow. Of the many ways they were alike, their handling of negative emotions was the most similar. Musa would want to wallow in her frustrations in silence until she was ready to talk or move on, so he would sit in silence with her. He would wait hours with her in slow, agonising silence in hopes that his presence gave her some peace to cling onto.

She’d barricaded herself in the master bathroom, the very one that they’d lost the only remaining key to a month earlier. It took him a bit longer than it should have – he was rusty – but he managed to pick his way in. Musa was sitting on the floor against the wall, curled up into herself. Quietly, he sat beside her and waited patiently until she rested her head on his shoulder. He didn’t ask what was wrong; didn’t push her to talk about it. He’d started far too many accidental fights trying to pull information out of her before she was ready; it had taken years, but he finally learned not to do that.

His cheek found a resting spot against the top of her head, pulling her legs over his so she could curl herself into him. Feeling her nuzzle closer into his neck, silent tears dropping onto his exposed neck and t-shirt collar, he wrapped his arms around her, locking her in his embrace. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the building: the dripping of the bathroom faucet, the footsteps of their upstairs neighbour, the rushing water in the pipes as someone in another apartment flushed the toilet.

“I can’t get it” she mumbled into his neck. He might have missed it if it weren’t for the feeling of her breath against his skin. He lifted his head and turned it to look at her, prompting her to please keep talking. Her head stayed on his shoulder, eyes looking down at their entangled legs. “I keep trying to write something – anything – but it’s shit. The words are wrong, the melody is off, the beat is unnatural. It’s like I just can’t do it.”

The idea that Musa could ever lose her musical ability was ridiculous to him. Music was her raison d’être. It was such an integral part of who she was that separating her from music would be like trying to pry a rusted door open with a single pinky. It just wasn’t possible. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No?” she scoffed. “Go look at the crap I wrote and tell me any of it is halfway decent.”

“I don’t think I’m the best judge for that.” On more than one occasion, Riven had peaked over her shoulder while she was writing and told her he liked what she was working on only for her to say that it wasn’t turning out as well as she’d hoped and that she might scrap the whole thing. It always made Riven sad to watch her throw out pages she’d worked so hard on. She was so critical of her writing when she didn’t need to be; words had always seemed to come easy to her – at least when it came to songs. “It's been a while since you wrote anything, maybe you’re just rusty?”

“It’s not riding a bike, Riven. You don’t just forget how to write a song.”

“Then maybe you’re overthinking it?”

She glared at him through her eyelashes, so he backed off, opting instead to choose another approach. A foolproof one if his experiences were to be trusted: ask her what she was writing about. Life and enthusiasm coursed through her when she spoke about music, and her love for it became palpable. It was beautiful; he loved watching her come to life. Maybe he could bring that out.

“I was trying to write a love song.”

“... A love song?” That wasn’t the answer he’d expected. Given her mood these last few months, he had thought she’d be writing something in memory of her father. Or, at the very least, something depressing.

“Stupid, right?” she sniffled as she pushed herself upright and finally met his gaze. Her face was red and splotchy, watery eyes reflecting the bathroom light.

“Not stupid.” He wrapped his arm around her neck and kissed her forehead. “Just not what I thought you’d be writing about.” Something about the way she looked at him prompted him to start rambling an elaboration– a leftover nervous habit. Apparently, therapy didn’t fix everything.

“I don’t... I don’t want to think about him. Every time I do, I feel like a part of me is missing.”

“Muse...” Riven said softly. He repositioned himself closer to her, moving to brush away the tear that had fallen.

“Ridiculous, I know.”

“It’s not.” Musa didn’t reply but leaned into the hand he’d left caressing her cheek. He kissed her forehead once again before pulling his hand away and getting to his feet. Tear-flecked and confused blue eyes looked up at him from the bathroom floor, brows above them furrowing in further confusion when he extended his hand to help her up. Musa accepted his hand and followed as he led her out of the bathroom, through their bedroom and back into the music room.

“Riven” she grumbled, trying to pull her hand free to very little success. “I don’t - “

“Do you remember when we first started dating – the first time around – and I was in the Alfea music room reading while you wrote?”

“No?”

He remembered the day clearly. It was the first time she’d let him sit with her while she wrote. Her hair was still short then, done up in her signature pigtails. It was the last day on campus, but Musa had wanted to write so instead of going into the city with their friends like they’d planned, they stayed behind. He’d been looking forward to laser tag, but he was much happier to stay behind and have her all to himself anyways. “I was asking you about why you’d taken to music so strongly. You skirted around the answer a bit, giving me the same answers you give everyone: I’m from Melody, I was raised in a musical family, that kind of shit. I wasn’t going to push but then you got kind of quiet and you started telling me about how your mom had taught you to play piano, and that you would play together all the time; that after she died, you played to feel close to her.”

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do” he shrugged, taking a seat on the piano bench. He tried to pull her down to sit beside him, but she resisted. “Anyways, I know it’s not the same, but you and your dad were both writers, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So maybe by opening yourself up and writing about him is how you remember him.”

“I...”

“It’s gonna hurt, I know. And it’ll make you sad, I know that too. If you need to cry, I’ll be right here to hold you while you do, but I really think you need to let yourself feel it.”

Musa’s gaze lowered, and she fixated on the bench feet for a few minutes. Finally, she looked up at him with a sad smile, and moved forwards to sit with him. As she opened the piano lid, she glanced at him. “You’re gonna sit there the whole time I’m writing?”

“If that’s what you want” he assured her, knowing full well that that was exactly what she wanted. Relief washed over him when she smiled – a real, genuine smile, the first in months. It made him so happy to see her smile that he might have cried. He returned her smile, a thought occurring to him. “It might mean supper has to be take out, though.”

#winx club #winx #winx musa #winx riven #musa x riven #rivusa #prompts

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halcyon-girls · 1 year

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This is a prompt from ao3 by imartemix!!

Prompt: Do a fic about Stellatrix trying to find time for each other to I don’t know make out or something but Winx girls keep interrupting? It would be funny hahaha ------------- Stella finds herself desperate for five minutes. Just five minutes in a room or really any space with Beatrix and Beatrix alone, without her suitemates interrupting them. All she wishes for is a kiss, or so she had thought. Perhaps those five minutes being uninterrupted were far more complicated than just a kiss. -------------

The recent weeks have been exhausting. With endless tests and training, all designed to ensure that they’re capable of handling any threat, whether blood witch, burned one, or something new, it leaves one with little time for anything else.

The only reason Stella pushes herself up onto her feet and packs her books away is for the promise that she’d get to see Beatrix after class. More than that, she’d get to kiss Beatrix.

She supposes it’s not the most riveting thing to be motivated by, but in these weeks finding even five minutes to be with Beatrix alone was more difficult than any fight they’d been tossed through.

So, she leaves her class with a skip in her step and makes her way down the hall to her suite where Beatrix had agreed to meet her. As… friends. She knows she should trust her suitemates and tell them that yes, she was dating Beatrix. But each time she opens her mouth to say those words, she fears the consequences.

What if they told others and little by little that went all the way up the chain to her mother? Stella was scared enough over the thought of telling her. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if she found out through the mouth of another.

So she seals her lips, puts on a smile, and claims they’re two friends hanging out. Beatrix tells her that she understands but she can see the hurt in her eyes each time those words slip from her lips.

Nevertheless, she was getting those five minutes. To her, little by little, it had become more than five minutes. It had become a time when she doesn’t have to question every part of her existence or worry over her appearance. More than anything, she doesn’t need to dwell heavily on the complexities of her love and attraction that had gradually shifted to sit exclusively with women.

It was something she had finally admitted to herself and by extension, Beatrix. Perhaps that is what made the truth so terrifying. It wasn’t just an addition to her attraction it was a reduction and a focus she knows her mother would absolutely loathe.

Heirs? Status? Appearance? She’d hear about it endlessly and with a tone that could only be described as condescending.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready.

When she pushes open the door to the suite and closes the door of her scattered emotions, she hadn’t imagined she’d be walking in on the scene before her.

‘Hi?’ She questions, raising a brow as she observes the sight of Flora sitting on the couch next to Beatrix, discussing one of her plants.

Flora waves her in. ‘We were just thinking about redecorating. Maybe some old plants over there,’ she gestures to the small window sill, ‘and some new ones right here.’

Stella walks over to the couch and places her arm on the armrest. ‘That's, um, interesting.’ She drums her fingers against it. ‘I’d love to help, really, but Beatrix and I have plans and-’

Terra interrupts with a raised brow. ‘Oh? What kind of plans?’

Stella splutters, ‘Well, the plans that, uh, friends make. To spend time with each other.’ She looks down and notices the amused look in Beatrix’s eyes and she fails terribly with her explanation.

She watches as Musa enters the room with a smirk. ‘Aren’t we all friends here, Stella?’

Stella huffs. Yes, they were all friends, but with Beatrix, it wasn’t just that. She wishes she could say the truth, but it felt impossible to tear it away from her fears that have caused it to remain tangled up and secured firmly inside her mind.

Beatrix seems to catch on to her dilemma and reaches up. She grabs Stella’s hand and pulls her down onto the couch. ‘We’ve got time.’

Once she’s sitting next to Beatrix, her hand is released. They sit side-by-side listening to Stella’s suitemates discuss the position of every plant. Musa bases it on the ‘vibes’ each plant has, claiming it to be a mind fairy thing. Stella raises a brow at the bracers secured firmly on her wrists, nullifying Musa’s magic, and has several doubts about her claims.

Stella’s pinky grazes against Beatrix’s and she tucks them together, seeking some semblance of closeness in a situation that called for distance. If they could not share a kiss, this would have to be enough.

She listens to her friends discuss their redesign of the suite and tries to smile. They were just being friendly. She laughs along as they debate the plants and shrugs when they ask her for her own opinion, finding her humour could only be stretched so far before it would crumble.

She sighs and holds one of the plants in her lap that they hadn't decided on the location for. She secretly wishes that in her suitemate’s distraction, she could pull Beatrix into her own room, close the door behind her, and promptly kiss her until they’re breathless.

Instead, she’s regaled to having her pants covered in soil. She bites her tongue and keeps the words she wishes to blurt out inside her mouth. She finds it was getting harder to keep them there.

Once the plants have been moved and those five minutes have long gone, Stella reluctantly parts from Beatrix, both needing to head their separate ways. She wants to kiss Beatrix in the hall, but knows deep down, she can’t.

She waves Beatrix off with a bittersweet smile and leans against the doorframe with a heavy sigh. Perhaps tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes, and with an eager hand, she tugs Beatrix down the hall towards the greenhouse that was usually empty at this hour. Just as she pulls Beatrix closer, their lips ghosting each other’s, she hears the door squeak open and promptly pulls away.

Stella looks over Beatrix’s shoulder and watches as Bloom and Aisha enter, rifling through the supply drawers without care. ‘What do you think of this, Aisha?’ Bloom questions, pulling out a vial and swirling the contents.

Aisha removes it from Bloom’s hand and places it back in its holder. ‘No.’

Stella gives them a minute and when they seem very intent to continue rummaging through the drawers, she reluctantly pulls away from Beatrix and clears her throat. ‘Having fun?’ Bloom grins and drops whatever plant she has in her hand onto the bench. ‘So much fun. I’m just spending time with my best friend, you know?’ She emphasises her words by wrapping her arm around Aisha’s shoulder. ‘What about you?

Stella watches as Bloom’s gaze flicks over to the corner that Stella knows Beatrix is still standing in. ‘Yes, fun.’

Bloom grins. ‘Hi, Beatrix.’

Stella whips her head around as Beatrix moves away from the corner and leans her hip against one of the benches, eyeing Aisha and Bloom with raised brows. ‘Is there something we should know?’

Bloom raises her hands into the air in surrender. ‘Nope, nothing.’ She walks to the door and just as it seems like she’s going to leave, she turns around and winks. ‘Besides, my kissing spots with Sky are completely different.’ With that, she leaves and pulls the door closed behind her.

Aisha groans and reopens the door to follow her, rolling her eyes before giving them both a small wave.

Stella feels her cheeks flush and her heart race but not in a way that she found pleasurable. Beatrix is quick to notice and is immediately at her side, with a hand pressed gently against Stella’s chest, steadying her racing heart.

Stella takes a few deep breaths, and places her hand on top of Beatrix’s, keeping her in place. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about all of this.’

‘It’ll be okay, princess,’ Beatrix reassures, placing her spare hand on Stella’s cheeks, ‘I don’t plan to go anywhere.’

Stella places her hand over Beatrix’s and leans forward, resting her forehead against hers. ‘I wouldn’t hold it against you if you did.’

Beatrix hums and rubs her thumb against Stella’s cheek. ‘There’s no need to lie, Stella.’

Stella sniffs, feeling the tears form in her eyes. ‘I desperately want just a few minutes, five if I’m being a little demanding, where it’s just you and I,’ she pauses, ‘and everything in between.’

She feels her tears fall, caught by Beatrix’s quick fingers wiping them away. Stella clears her throat and continues, ‘I want to control my time and do what I wish with it.’

Beatrix doesn’t answer with words. She pulls Stella forward into a hug she quickly melts into, wrapping her arms around Beatrix. Stella presses her cheek against Beatrix’s neck and lets her tears fall until she hasn’t any left

Beatrix’s comforting voice breaks the silence. ‘We’ll find the time.’

Stella takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want this to be a relationship of them hiding and seeking five minutes alone just to confirm that they were in fact together. It was cruel in its design, a creation born from Stella’s fear of being seen in a way her mother doesn’t want her to be.

She lifts her head up and leans back. When she looks at Beatrix’s face she finds herself emboldened. ‘I don’t want to lie anymore.’ When Beatrix sends her a curious look, she elaborates, ‘About us.’

Beatrix moves her other hand to Stella’s waist, tugging her forward. ‘What about your mother?’

Stella laughs. ‘Wasn’t it you who said “Screw your mother” to me?’

Beatrix grins, tapping her hand against Stella’s waist. ‘Perhaps I gave you the privilege of my wisdom before, yes.’

Stella rolls her eyes. It was at moments like this that she felt like she could trust Beatrix with everything. For a girl who was once fond of blackmail to get her way, she was surprisingly gentle. Her teasing words hold no bite, now only intended to spark a smile or laughter.

She speaks again, ‘It won’t be without fear. No matter which way I live and be with you, I will fear her. But, I’m willing to choose the fear that sees us holding hands in corridors and kissing in filled rooms.’ She moves back and lifts her hands to Beatrix’s shoulders. She wets her lips as she utters the words Beatrix would whisper to her every day, ‘It’s not my fault if she doesn’t want to love me.’

Beatrix smiles, rubbing Stella’s sides as she repeats those words. ‘It’s not your fault.’

They stay close, finding a bench to lean against as they discuss what it means for Stella to no longer lie. It starts with something small, an agreement to tell Stella’s suitemates about their relationship on their next break together.

With the conversation out of the way, Stella takes the moments they have left to lean in, ready to receive and provide the kiss that she's been seeking over the past few days. Just as her lips graze Beatrix’s, Beatrix gently pulls away.

Stella pouts but admits a small amount of relief as the door swings open again, some teacher or other entering the room and sending a look their way that said, ‘Leave.’

She may be ready for her suitemates, but perhaps not so ready for the whole school to know.

Later in the day, they meet again to have that conversation. Bloom grins widely and talks about how she knew and admits that perhaps, just once, the greenhouse was her and Sky’s kissing spot, but only once, she swears.

Terra pulls Stella into a hug that she hadn’t known she’d needed. She won’t deny the sobs and heavy tears that fall from her as the rest of her suitemates join in on the embrace. Beatrix sits at her side and holds her hand instead, claiming she had her limits, and she was not going to engage in “the Winx Club group hug.”

At the end of the day, Stella feels a weight fall from her shoulders. She’d finally told someone that wasn’t Beatrix. More than that, she’d told multiple people and they’d all accepted her, despite their initial qualms over the girl she loves being Beatrix.

When she lies down in her bed, she rests easily hoping for it to be the end of the interruptions. She was ready to finally get to spend her five minutes thoroughly engaged in her girlfriend’s touch.

If only she could be so lucky.

It seemed her suitemates had turned their casual interruptions into their favourite game.

Aisha is first, standing in the same row of shelves in the library as them claiming there was a book she desperately needed from the section. She grabs a rather promiscuous romance novel off the shelf after a few minutes and hurries away. Stella groans when the bell rings, her lips thoroughly unkissed.

The next is Bloom who shrugs and dramatically trips in front of them, claiming she can’t get up without Sky. Eventually, Stella gives in and drags Sky over to Bloom. He rolls his eyes and pulls her off the floor, giving them both an apology with an amused smile.

Flora and Terra walk into the classroom they’re sitting in the next day with a plant they claim is toxic. They create a whole scene about how they must hide it from the new headmistress in this classroom in particular, in order to save the school.

Stella gives them a few points for creativity but claims she’ll be perfectly fine and that the plant can share the room with them.

Flora and Terra vehemently disagree.

A few more of these incidents shifts her amusement into annoyance. She’s rolled her eyes enough times at their antics that she genuinely thinks she might be giving herself a headache.

Beatrix seems to be faring no better, electricity dancing at her fingers each time one of Stella’s suitemates crosses their paths.

They’re walking down the hall, hand-in-hand when Beatrix speaks up. ‘I’ve found the perfect spot to kiss you today.’

Stella offers her a small smile, ‘Without interruptions?’

The question has a smirk forming on Beatrix’s face. ‘No. Something even better. We are the interruption.’

Stella laughs. It was perfect. She expects all of her suitemates to be in the suite and hanging out in the common area as they did every Friday. ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’

Beatrix laughs with her and pulls her hand, leading her to the suite. Beatrix pushes open the door and sure enough, all of her suitemates were present. It was time for a little revenge.

Bloom bites the chip in her hand and waves at them, ‘Are you two joining suite game night?’

Beatrix grins and leads Stella to the middle of the room, between them all, ‘Better yet, we’re interrupting it.’

Stella gasps in surprise as Beatrix pushes her down onto the coffee table, knocking their games and snacks onto the floor. She sits in Stella’s lap and pulls her by her chin into a kiss.

Stella is quick to respond and slides her fingers into Beatrix’s hair, deepening the kiss. She smiles into it when she hears her suitemates shouting and complaining about their games and the extreme amount of PDA the two were currently performing.

Beatrix pulls back and glares at Stella’s suitemates. ‘Don’t interrupt us again.’

Bloom pouts, ‘Aw, but I had so many other ideas.’

Beatrix's glare sharpens at Bloom's response as she’s quick to back away with a sheepish grin. ‘Fine, fine, you win.’

Musa claps. ‘Okay, great, awesome. Now that it’s all resolved, can you please get a room, and not do it on the coffee table.’

Stella huffs, ‘We weren’t-’

Musa shows her empty wrists and taps her temple. She has been trying to find an in-between and spends some of her time without those bracers. ‘Mind fairy, remember.’

Stella flushes brightly and Beatrix takes pity on her, sliding off her lap and pulling her off the table. ‘Sure, we can do that.’

She smirks as she deliberately walks over to the door leading to Stella and Flora’s joint room and tugs Stella inside. ‘Looks like we found one.’

Beatrix shuts the door just as Stella’s suitemates start to groan.

Stella catches Terra smiling at her and can’t help but smile back. She should have known she could tell Terra, more than anyone, and she was glad that she did.

Once the door is shut, Beatrix’s smirk softens into a smile. ‘It seems like we’ve found those five minutes.’

Stella smiles in return. It was truly the perfect five minutes. She places her hands on Beatrix’s cheeks and pulls her into a kiss. She was going to make sure every second of these five minutes was shared in Beatrix’s arms, and with her kisses.

When they pull away from each other, Stella finds she doesn’t mind if it wasn’t exactly five minutes. She listens as her suitemates’ laughter echoes outside of the room and begins to realise it was never about this moment more than it was about the fear of this moment being discovered.

She shifts her hand down to Beatrix’s neck and rubs it. ‘I’m glad we interrupted them.’ She pauses, ‘Not just for revenge but for being able to express my feelings towards you.’

Beatrix tugs her forward by the waist. ‘That makes one of us, I’m glad, of course, but I’ve got a lot of interruptions planned out for them.’

Stella snorts. ‘What do you have in mind?’

Beatrix slides her hands up Stella’s side. ‘Oh, I have plenty of ideas.’ She pauses her journey. ‘Though I have a few more pressing ideas right now.’

Before Stella can ask what they were, Beatrix answers with a kiss. They make up for every minute taken from them by interruptions, cautious of moving further than kisses with Stella’s suitemates just beyond the door.

Still, it was perfect. She had simultaneously never been as afraid or as happy as she had been at this moment. Her future around Solaria may be frightening, but for now, and perhaps for a long time, she never had to doubt her future here amongst the ones she so earnestly loved.

She’d do it again and again for these five minutes of hope.

#fate: the winx saga #stella of solaria #stella #beatrix daniels #beatrix #stella x beatrix #stellatrix #ftws #fate the winx saga #myfics

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