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flowerfeast444 · 9 months

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you were a house on fire || h.s. {pt 7}

harry styles x oc word count: 3.5k chapter summary: harry and roe work closer to deciding how the kids figure into things series masterlist

As March crept along, Roe and Harry found themselves falling into each other's beds more often than not. Upon Roe's request, it was always at odd hours of the night or random moments in the day when the kids were at school. Not that this bothered Harry; he learned through his years in One Direction that exposure and exploitation really don't differ much. So, they let their secret moments be secret. Well, secret to the public and everyone in Harry's life, at least. Lucas knew of their situation, and therefore Aaron knew. Roe hadn't actually told anyone she was casually fucking one of the world's hottest pop stars- even Sara didn't know.

Lucas, despite Roe's indignation, could read every flick of emotion on her face. She didn't need to say anything- he drew the necessary conclusions from the few times he saw them together. She would divulge her brothers and best friend eventually. At least, she considered it. In terms of the kids, there was no doubt in her mind on how to handle the situation.

"There's no way they can find out we're seeing each other, " Roe declared. The topic had only been brought up by Harry because his clock barely read six o'clock on a Monday morning and she was fully dressed in her jeans and one of Harry's white long sleeve shirts- ready to leave for the unforeseen future. Harry, on the other hand, still bare from the night before was only covered by a thin silk sheet. Even his signature rings lay abandoned in the glass dish on his bedside table.

"I'm not saying we sit down and blab to the whole city, just tell your siblings that we're friends so we can see each other at normal hours."

"Plenty of people are up at this time." she rolled her eyes

"Fine, go be Supermom, leave me in the dust." Harry dramatically fell back onto the bed, allowing the sheet to pool at his bare waist. When Roe looked at him, a smile graced his features, and she knew he was only teasing.

"Hm, " she stepped up to the bed and straddled his waist. Harry instinctively grabbed her hips.

"Well, everyone knows that every superhero needs a dime piece waiting for them at home." They both let out breathy chuckles as Roe leaned down to connect their lips. Roe pushed into Harry as he tightened his grasp on her hips, but ended the kiss as soon as he attempted to deepen it.

"Seriously though, I don't want them to know. I know you don't spend a lot of time with middle schoolers, but they're fucking scary. Obsessive. Spread rumors like crazy. You tell one kid something, they blab to anyone they know. I don't think that's something you want. At least, that's what we agreed on when we started this."

"I'll tell you what I do want, " he smirked. Roe shook her head, laughing at him.

"Oh yeah?" she asked.

"Mhm," he drawled.

She kissed him again. "I wonder what you'll do about that. I have to get to work."

The next few hours of her day passed exactly as Roe expected. She opened the diner with Gretta and welcomed their regular customers with fresh cups of coffee and pancake and egg dishes. She fell into the flow of the workday and nearly forgot about her conversation with Harry that morning.

Days like these only allowed her appreciation to grow for such simple interactions. Sure, customer service always came with a stipend. A grown man would throw a fit because his fries aren't crispy enough, a parent would let their kids run circles around them without consequence. The positive moments, however, outshone the negative. At precisely ten o'clock, Ron strolled in every morning with a tip of his flat cap to the waitresses. He ordered a black coffee while he read war novels. Though he sat by himself at the front counter, he never failed to share a joke with whichever family sat close by. There was also Tina who brought her mother, Jane, once a week. Jane reached the point in her life where she asked every waitress if they were new there, no matter how long it had been. Nonetheless, she told each of them they were 'too pretty to be working this hard at a place like this' and gave generous tips. And of course, the students that bustled in after the final bell to work on projects, eat all of the diner's onion rings, and awkwardly flirt with each other. Roe looked forward to all of these interactions.

Sophie, she would admit, outshone her other regulars. Every couple of days, she came in during the mid-afternoon, sporting hot pink denim shorts and a Dora backpack. Roe asked her about her home life on a few occasions, but she shrugged her off telling her it was fine. And that was that. Sometimes, Roe helped her with her long division homework or helped her pick out her next independent reading book. She missed when the twins were that young, but knew it was only a matter of time before River got to be that big. Time melted through her hands. All she could do was hold on tight and hope some droplets remained.

By the time her lunch break rolled around that Monday, both Lucas, Aaron, and River joined her at the diner. The four of them sat in a booth in the back corner with a large plate of fries between them. Because of their heavy work schedules, they took advantage of the moments they were able to spend with each other. They tried at least. River, God bless him, was the most happy-go-lucky kid Roe ever met. It didn't matter where they were; as long as one of his siblings remained close to him and he had a toy car in hand, he was pleased. Roe celebrated this, as many kids his age had meltdowns, though she knew his speech and potty training paled in comparison. Given their circumstances, she chose to stay optimistic.

Today, River stood in the booth beside Roe, a french fry grasped tightly in one hand with a Disney princess coloring book in front of him. Lucas just finished a story of how a drunk guy tried to sleep in the warehouse he worked at recently. Though Roe was sure many details were embellished, it had the three of them in fits.

"So, I'm basically sitting on the guy, the police are on the phone, and after everything, he just vomits everywhere."

"Dude, we're eating-" Aaron tried to interrupt, his laugh dropping immediately.

"Anyway, so, I jump off of him and hit my back on a shelf so hard that I got this huge fucking bruise." He gestured to his side.

"File for worker's comp," Roe shrugged one shoulder with a smirk. She picked up a blue crayon and joined River on his Cinderella picture.

"I know you're half-joking, but I thought about it. That security job does not pay what I deserve, honestly." He shook his head and ate another fry. The three of them nodded, collectively watching River scratch a green crayon through Cinderella's dress.

"Speaking of injuries; Aaron, what's that little," Roe pointed at a deep purple mark near his collarbone with her crayon.

He rolled his eyes and shoved her hand away, "Yeah, yeah."

"Looks pretty bad, you want me to help you ice it later? Where the heck did you get it from, anyway?" Roe feigned innocence. Aaron gave her a middle finger as his only defense.

"You're one to talk, Rosalie. You've been sneaking off with this singer guy for like a month now like you're a double agent or something." Lucas said, his tone much heavier than Roe and Aaron's.

"A double agent? Really? Since when do I have to explain my sex life to you, anyway."

"Since you fuck off to his place half the week and leave us to take care of the kids on our own. You know Sara came looking for you this morning. Said she really needed to talk to you. And where were you?"

"Jesus, sorry, I didn't realize it was such a big deal. I only ever leave on the nights that you guys are already in charge, though, so, I thought it was fine, " she trailed off. "Can you stop bein' a jackass to me, and just go back to having lunch?"

Roe leaned back in the booth with her arms crossed. Aaron cleared his throat, and he and Roe shared eye contact for a moment, but no one spoke. River, oblivious to the table's sudden shift in mood, clumsily picked up his coloring book to show Roe the finished product. His pride in the messy scribbles brought her a smile despite the tense air around them still.

"Yeah, whatever. I gotta get back to work." Lucas picked up his denim jacket, kissed River on the forehead, and promptly left.

"Was that weird to you?" Roe turned to Aaron once Lucas finally left her line of sight. "Yeah, no, that was definitely weird."

They finished the plate of fries soon after and used the time to catch up on each other's lives. Aaron eventually divulged (with some pressure) that he started seeing a guy from work named Jalen. They had only been on a few dates, but he was hopeful it would go further. Roe teased him for being a secret lovebird despite encouraging him to pursue whatever made him happy. Someone in this family deserved it.

///

The next morning, the creak of Roe's bedroom door startled Harry awake. Lucas peered through the crack and frowned at the sight of them. Harry cautiously tugged the sheet closer to his chest and ran his fingers through a knot at the end of his hair, but it failed to change Lucas' disapproving glare.

"Is she asleep?" he pointed at Roe. Harry carefully shifted to his right to catch a glimpse of her face.

"Yeah. Do you want me to wake her?"

"No, it's fine. Just tell her I forgot I picked up an early shift this morning, so she's got the school run." Harry nodded, itching to pull a shirt on. "And by the way, Demi and River just woke up, so if you're looking to stay a secret much longer, I'd be careful."

He wasn't sure how threatening Lucas intended to be, but he muttered "thanks" anyway, just to be safe. The thought of sneaking out before Roe awoke crossed his mind, admittedly, for more than a few seconds. Ultimately, he decided against it. Maybe it was because he would feel guilty for leaving without relaying Lucas' message. Or, he simply hated the thought of leaving a warm bed. Roe stirred only moments after Lucas shut the door, and Harry placed a kiss on her bare shoulder, encouraging a smile to form on her half-asleep lips. He wrote it off as nothing more than a sleep-addled consequence.

"Good morning, love."

"Morning," She grumbled as she rubbed the crusted sleep from her eyes.

"Your brother came in a second ago. He wanted you to know that we have to take care of the kids this morning."

"We do?" she yawned.

Harry cleared his throat, "Yeah, he has to work early."

"So, you, " she paused- sitting up, she squinted and smiled at him, "and I, together, taking the kids to school?"

"No, that'd be silly, obviously. That is if you are still set on not letting them know. Which, at this point, don't they all already know?"

"The twins don't. Remember our conversation about preteens and rumors?"

Harry waited to respond upon hearing a door in the hallway swing open. Light footsteps trod past Roe's door and down the stairs before he continued, "At this point, don't you think it would be worth it to just talk to them? If we just ask them to keep us a secret-"

"They're my kids, and I'm telling you, it's not a good idea." Roe stood from the bed and wrapped a bathrobe around her bare body, avoiding eye contact with the man still beneath her sheets.

Harry rightfully declared himself a morning person on many occasions, but he suddenly questioned his mind's ability to follow the progression of the tone of the conversation. He understood why Roe often stood on the early defense. If anything, it's what he related to the most with her. He often needed to be cautious with strangers, a fair amount of time passed since he'd been with someone he didn't trust wholeheartedly. He understood Roe's defensiveness. Yet, his mind spun in conspiracies. It frustrated him. He hoped it wasn't obvious. He knew it likely was.

"Roe, I didn't mean to start an argument. I just think it will be easier for both of us this way." Roe pulled her hair into a ponytail, remembrances of bangs falling back to her forehead. Harry left the bed and joined her in front of her dresser where she stared straight ahead into the mirror. Leaning against the edge of the dresser, he reached for her arm and gently grasped her wrist.

"Will you at least think about it?"

"Yes, I'll think about it," she sighed and placed her other hand on top of their adjoined ones, but still avoided looking in his eyes. "In the meantime, we have to figure out how to sneak you out. Or, it might be easier for you to hide away in here while I take care of the kids? I can come back up here after I drop them at school."

Harry leaned forward and kissed her simply. "I'd like that," he said.

Harry expected her to shake off their moment of intimacy and immediately finish getting ready, but she remained planted in his warmth for a few more breaths before finally swaying away. Harry returned to his spot on her bed and watched in silence as Roe went through her morning routine. Not only had it been some time since he had been with somebody he trusted, but it had been some time since that somebody was a woman. He wouldn't categorize Roe as extremely feminine. Watching her apply dots of concealer to blemishes on her chin and a thin coat of mascara before pulling up the tiniest pair of underwear and athletic shorts he had ever seen, though, definitely contrasted the mornings he had grown used to in the years prior. Despite the differences in these scenarios, one thing about his partners remained; they prioritized staying a secret.

"I won't be long." Roe slipped an oversized Cubs sweatshirt over her head despite wearing nothing underneath. "Try not to be too bored without me."

Harry smirked at her, and just like that, she left. Though he could hear the commotion of the kids in the kitchen below him, his solitude pressed in on him. Silverware clinked against dishes, chairs scraped against the floor, eventually, the scent of coffee wafted up to him, and still, Harry sat- stolid. It's not as if he minded, though. Roe's pale yellow walls recently began to feel familiar to him. They often met at Harry's apartment, which he accepted the reasoning for, but he secretly enjoyed their nights at Roe's. Every time without fail, she would apologize for the display of toys across the floor of every room or stacks of dishes by the sink. She would grunt, cheeks pink, at the seemingly self-growing pile of laundry at the end of the hallway. Harry found it charming. Sure it was messy at times (all of the time), but the house breathed so much life. The Byrne household was like lightning. He loved his cat dearly, but the two of them in his apartment made for a static home. Envy bubbled inside of him, for he knew hers was a life he could never have.

On the bedside table to his left, a picture of two young boys caught his eye. Gently, Harry picked up the frame of what he assumed were a young Lucas and the second oldest brother sitting on Santa's lap. Both boys, likely toddlers at the time, had their mouths open in dramatic sobs. Clearly, a family joke they were yet to live down. Beside the frame rested a tattered copy of Of Mice and Men with a post-it note sticking haphazardly out of the middle of its pages. He remembered having to read it in school, and though the details escaped him years ago, it brought a wave of melancholy over him. His heart twitched snooping like this- they rarely spent more than an hour at a time together anymore, this behavior clearly crossed a line. Yet, his hands continued their search. The sudden quiet air only encouraged him.

Before he could admonish himself fully, he pulled open the drawer to the bedside table. He immediately recognized the green pipe they shared the week prior. A string of condoms, a broken pencil, two loose batteries. None of these items stood out as particularly incriminating- not that he expected such to be the case. In the very back, however, a new lighter laid on top of what looked like hospital bills. Harry paused and tossed a glance over his shoulder, though the door remained shut and the quiet, uninterrupted. With a furrowed brow, he drew closer to the papers. Though they were folded several times over, he caught sentence fragments containing words such as 'overnight care' and 'late fees' accompanied by a number several digits too long. As much as he loved living in the States, he never envied their sheer lack of health care. He pulled the paper from its resting place in order to investigate further, arguing it was purely out of concern for his- for Roe. Few details of the reason for the bill had been stated. What Harry found most odd, though, was that the bill was not for Roe at all. Rather, the address line read 'Mrs. Margaret Byrne' above the number for the house he currently sat in. Unless Roe had some major explaining to do, this bill was for another woman entirely. Her twin sister perhaps? No, the names didn't match.

The sound of the front door slamming halted his inquiry from spinning any further. As nimbly as possible, Harry slipped the paper back to its place and closed the drawer. Seconds later, the bedroom door swung open revealing Roe just as she left, now with a dusting of snow in her hair and on her sneakers.

"Sorry, I hope you weren't too bored," she said.

"It's fine, I don't mind. It's not like I had much planned for the day."

Roe laid back on the unmade bed and closed her eyes with a hum. "You sure? You're always hanging out with me, working around my schedule. I would feel bad if you're canceling on friends."

"Honestly, I don't have many people I talk to that regularly anymore, besides my mum or Niall," he laughed before realizing how hopelessly embarrassing that statement sounded.

"Well, none of them live here, at least."

"Really? Big shot like you?" Her tone lacked any drop of menace. It's this, Harry supposed, that encouraged him to continue.

"If I'm being quite honest, I lost a lot of friends when the band split. You don't realize how many people you only get along with because you're forced to spend time together. Without it," he trailed off in thought. "Without it, there's no real connection, you know? There were also," he hesitated, debating if going down this conversation path was really a good idea, "some people who decided to stop talking to me on purpose. That was before the breakup- hiatus, whatever."

Harry knew his ambiguity made his confession less sincere. But, regardless of the pull he always felt around her to be authentic, the trained side of his brain won- things had to be this way because vulnerability meant weak spots. And that was bad for business. Roe leaned up on her elbows, allowing herself to enter his space. "Is that what led to the breakup?"

"Kind of. Not really. It's a lot more complicated than that. Around that same time, I- well, I was going through a breakup of my own." Roe saw by the downward tilt of his lips and crease in his brow that the wound was not fully healed. "I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter, I'm here to move on, anyway. Not here, like in your house, but in this city. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drag us into a therapy session."

"Well, I'm no therapist, but we have the house to ourselves for at least a couple hours. I think I know of a few ways to lift your spirits," she drawled.

Harry sent her a teasing smile as she sat up to pull off her oversized sweatshirt. Harry didn't bother redressing after Roe left, giving her easy access to lean over him and kiss down the tattoos littering his chest. She took her time, letting each kiss linger before she traced a finger down his sternum. With each inch drawing closer and closer to where he craved her most, his breath quickened and a whimper escaped through his parted lips. God, he was done for.

#harry styles #imagine #fanfic #hs #harry styles x oc #harry’s house #fluff #angst #light smut

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silvia7272 · 3 years

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Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ Blossoming Friendships???

I really hope you’re all enjoying this new series; I honestly just came up with the idea on a dime, and then after I started developing it, I knew I needed to share it with all of my fans.

Also, when I actually get around to including more characters from the movie, it’s gonna be fun giving them some personality traits. I can’t wait.

And er-… I may have accidently messed up with some off the names. Since I changed most off the names already, I then decided to change them for Barbara and Olympia, however I had forgotten that I’d already written their names down in the story. Opps. I thought this would’ve been better since I think I saw some people complain about the United Hero’s super names, so I changed them, as well as if I’m going to add in going to Gotham into the mix and there’s already a character called Barbara, I just know I’ll get hella confused for who I’m talking about. I don’t want people to get confused but maybe I should make a post off the names I’ve already changed to begin with, just to defer from canon. Well, here it is.

My OC: Rosaniline Keyne-Hill was Rosina Scoats

Soliane Rin was Crisono Tassa

Canon Counterparts: Jace Keyne was Jessica Keyne

Aveon Keyne-Hill was Aeon Hill

Medusa was Uncanny Valley

(I kept Olympia the same)

Nebula was Majestia

Brianna was Barbara

Eostrix was Night Owl

So, I might just change them when I can be bothered to.

This fanfic and its ideas were all made before season 4 came out, so if something doesn’t add up please don’t worry. That information wasn’t available then, and unless it fits into my story or I like it, I won’t include it in my story. Also, that new Miraculous wiki can get lost, I’m not putting any of that new information in here if they couldn’t even put it in the show. (Also, so far, I do not care for season 4 whatsoever so yeah, I may not include any of that in this work and the other.)

Word Count: 9435

Tags: @vixen-uchiha if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged. I’m very sorry if I’ve missed anyone.

Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Summary:

Note: This fic contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.

In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?

Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...

But, of course, this wasn't normal.

This was reality. It was cold, hard and definitely not welcome.

So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life…

How long does it take for her to regret it?

***

Mlle Bustier had always believed her students were the best in the whole Collège.

In fact, she whole-heartedly believed that all her students could do no harm.

In her mind, they were at the peak of maturity, though they may be in their adolescence and had some seemingly petty dramas, they all prevailed to take whatever they wanted for themselves, when they saw opportunities, they rightfully took.

And Mlle Bustier only wanted the best for her students.

As much as Caline would never admit it to any of her work colleagues, she always knew her class was exceptional.

Kim, Alix, what with two of the sportiest people that were bound to succeed.

Max, A genius who was able to develop a fully functioning AI, when he was a teen no less. She could only imagine what other inventions her little Einstein could invent later on. The type of universities he’d get into, the job offers, oh the endless possibilities.

Ivan, Rose, Juleka, A lead vocalist, guitarist, and drummer in a popular rock band. Though she had heard there may have been a few mishaps in the band, she was sure they would be even better than before.

Mylène, A passionate environmentalist who only wanted to help the world become a cleaner place, and entered as many organisations as possible.

Nino, An inspiring DJ/filmmaker. She always wanted to help out by lending the classroom key afterschool, that way he could work on all of his works. Allowing everyone to take part even, it was truly one of her best rules.

Alya, A journalist's whose goal was to become bigger than Lois Lane.

Adrien, A model, the most famous teenage one by Parisian standards.

Chloé, The mayor's Daughter.

Sabrina, The head of police’s Daughter.

Nathaniel, an inspiring comic book artist that had gained a lot of attention online.

And Lila, a Daughter of an Italian diplomat.

Although she could admit to herself that not all of these aspirations were something that she could boast about, she could show off that all of her students had something they would work for or even show off.

And what did the others have?

Two weather girls and a writer? Caline would have to laugh, compare that with her class and you could clearly see who was at the top.

Although she hadn’t said a specific name for a reason.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The young fashion designer/baker’s girl.

For a while, that name had left a sour name in her mouth, whenever she had been forced to say it for the register, it only took her a few days for her to realise how much it annoyed her whenever said girl was late to her lesson. Honestly, did that girl not value punctuality? Nevermind in the workplace; what about her reputation as a teacher?

She was becoming a lot more reclused, gaining a disrespectful attitude towards her she had no recollection of when she had gained it, and became incredibly upset when she remembered every year on her birthday, the girl would give her a whole assortment of pastries and desserts.

Now, because she had somewhat highly encouraged her students to send gifts for a better grade, it was just a box of chocolates.

Just a small box of chocolates!?

How could she show off her gifts to the others now!?

And worst of all?

She refused to be the good little Class President anymore.

Her example?

Her Marinette off the world?

Did she not care about setting a good example? Or to be a role model to the class?

Really, to be so selfish, to all of her friends, how ungrateful.

She believed she had sorted this little problem when Chloé, in a fit off understandable jealousy, drew over her gift.

Marinette was unreasonably angry at the poor girl, and so Bustier had said how better it would be for her to rise up and become a beacon of light for Chloé instead of letting that hate and anger fester inside her.

To let go and help out everyone.

To not let your negative side take a hold of you and be positive around everyone in your vicinity.

After all, sharing and helping makes the world go round, and we do want to help the world, right?

She remembered those words she had spoken so fondly to her, as she was always someone anyone could come to for advice. It had always worked after all, after students were able to see the correct side, she’d be thanked which always left a small flutter of happiness around her.

Mendeleiev scared many students away, D’Argencourt with his eccentric personality, made students want to avoid being seen near him after lessons ended, and hardly anyone spent their time in the art club room.

Caline believed she was seen as a shining example of light by the other students, and knew she was seen as a Disney Princess by many, Rose had even called her that once.

However, getting back to the matter at hand, she was very pleased when Marinette had gone out of her way to make Chloé happy, of course, her attitude still remained mostly the same but Caline was smart enough to know it wouldn’t take one nice event to help the girl, so she was so proud when she carried on helping the poor girl out. Chloé was smiling more and even asking for a multitude of things from the blue-haired girl, and if she ever saw Marinette get unreasonably upset again, she’d send a very disappointing glare.

She knew being disappointed in students was a sure-fire way for them to do better and work harder, she knew how guilty her students would feel if they ever managed to get that gaze from their teacher, and… If the elder had done this a bit more on Marinette than anyone else… Well, she would just smile, telling them how much Marinette was able to accomplish, her trips for the class were so good, everyone was jealous. So, didn’t that seem good?

And even though she did see most of it going in the trash, she knew Chloé was just a little bit picky, she’d liked the interest in her, it was normal.

Her home life wasn’t something to be overlooked, she just knew the girl only wished for attention, and she was sure to be able to give it to her.

But then she… Stopped.

Caline had believed the girl had gotten wrongly impatient and told Marinette she shouldn’t be so extreme, but Marinette dared to fight back, against her?

She exclaimed that it wasn’t just Chloé anymore, how could she be expected to be nice to both her and Lila?

Bustier was confused, Lila? What did she have to do with this?

And so, the girl explained that she was just lying for attention, every breath that came out was just a lie. And she couldn’t stand it, she’d apparently turned her friends against her.

Now, normally, Bustier knew Marinette wouldn’t lie.

But, she also knew she couldn’t let this ‘lie’ be revealed.

It might harm her reputation.

She couldn’t have that happen.

So, she knew what she had to say.

That this was just girl drama that all teenagers had.

She couldn’t afford to let her empire fall so soon.

And for something like that.

The faces of the other teachers.

The gossip surrounding her.

“Looks like Caline’s not so good a teacher after all.”

No, she couldn’t bare it.

Who said a little white lie would hurt anyone?

In order to keep her class, exactly the same.

A few snips were made to maintain its image.

And if she had to snip her most prized student.

Then… So be it.

***

When she entered her classroom it was just like any other day.

Her students forming around a desk in the front of the room.

She always commended her students for such actions, she knew how sweet and silent the girl could be and loved how accommodating the class could be to her.

She couldn’t help the wondering gaze that looked upon the back row.

A certain seat was empty, but that was routine by now. And even though there was still 5 minutes till the bell, she still marked her late in her book.

Sometimes Caline had to think if at some points she had expected too much of this single girl… But only to remember that, no, in fact, when Marinette had a better attitude, she had expected too less. Back when she gained some confidence, she had always surpassed her expectations, her trips were the highlight off her job, her morning snacks were a welcomed surprise, her need to prove herself let her have as many responsibilities as possible, yes some were meant to be her own paperwork, but she’d never seen Marinette excel so much, it was a dream come true.

If she could just push her, just a little more… She was sure Marinette would go back to her obedient self, and it would make Bustier’s job a lot easier.

Although… The new student seemed like the perfect candidate as well, since Marinette may not follow her good example, she may be able to get a different example.

She could see just how sweet and pleasant the cherry haired girl was, she’d be perfect for the role. Sneaking a quick glance at the girl who was simply minding her business reading a book and keeping to herself. She did take note she had a bit of a limp for the past week, but didn’t bring it up just to not embarrass the girl in front of the whole class. She just knew if she was able to simply send her views her way, a new example would be made, hell she may even be able to have two if Rosaniline became such a good influence on Marinette she may even change again.

She also just knew Rosann would be good for Chloé, after all, they’d have so much to talk about, and coming from similar backgrounds she could make sure they could be paired together as much as possible.

Of course, only she knew about her family name, Monsieur Damocles had been informed by her residence that they’d prefer not to spread this information about, for it had been such a hinderance for her to make friends before.

Bustier frowned, she knew very well her students wouldn’t try to suck up to her, she almost felt insulted that she wouldn’t trust her students.

But the worst part was that she couldn’t brag about her new student to anyone, no one could find out or they’d all face some action from her Mother, she was very clear on that.

However Bustier tried to not let it bother her too much, after all she was sure she could give a gentle nudge in the right direction about trusting friends and not keeping secrets, to coax her out of her shell. She’d just have to be excruciatingly patient.

Clapping her hands was a symbol for them all to pay attention, she’d never raise her voice to them, not even a little, and she knew they would respect it and quieten down their chatter.

And just like that, the door opened to a fashionably late bluenette. Bustier would feign ignorance to the rather disappointing glares stares the girl was receiving, after all, she was giving one off her own.

She sheepishly walked to her seat just as the bell rang, honestly, she’d given her a lot of warnings before about her punctuality, did she really need to brief her Parents in about the situation?

“Well class, since all of you are here now, I can get on with the lesson” And so began her teaching.

It was fairly simple, she knew her students would be able to easily understand, after all, she knew they were the best, the smartest.

She had to explain the project they were bound to complete to a high standard, she just knew it was another to her list of student’s accomplishments she could brag about.

The project entailed 30% of coursework they must do in pairs in the span of 2 months. They could choose any topic so long as it followed the theme.

And this year’s theme was history, generally her students would groan at this topic, but considering they were able to decide on their personal preferences that should help encourage them to complete it to the best of their ability.

Plus, it helped towards their end of the year grade, and helped their teamwork skills. Of course, Mlle Bustier would always try to be as generous as she could, she wouldn’t remove marks from accidental mistakes unlike a purple haired teacher would, she just couldn’t bear to be so mean to them when she knew they were trying so hard to get all of their marks, she couldn’t punish them for that. Even if it was not necessarily the right thing to do, she couldn’t let there be any wrongful disappointment.

As long as they carried on being a great example, she could never fail them.

Besides everyone loved her projects, while having to be in pairs they always got to present it in any way they wanted, a science experiment, PowerPoint presentation to even a play, she was so very proud when Mylène did that play from last year, so impressive and she had gotten out of her shell. All she had to do was make them follow a simple rule before they could go all out. Her students loved the independence, and when they asked what type of ideas she had, she gleamed and expressed her own interest in the fairy tales. There was so much you could do with so many magical stories and elements, the possibilities were endless. She loved always talking about them in at least all of her lesson as she knew how many life lessons could come out of it.

And besides, in a sense, the other thing that made her the best teacher, she let them pick their own partners.

Of course, she had to make it seem like that.

It was always the same since kindergarten, everyone’s names would be placed in a bowl on a piece of paper, and one by one she’d pick a name up, when she read it out loud other people could raise their hands to ask to be their partner.

Normally it would be the first person to raise their hand, however, Caline wasn’t stupid, there were certain pairs she didn’t always want together.

Such as Alix and Kim, if it were a presentation about sports, she wouldn’t mind as much, knowing they would present a physical display of their athleticism… However, she knew if they were paired up for a slideshow presentation about let’s say, politics. She knew they would only start at the last minute, and include a very messily strown up slideshow. And with Marinette refusing to help out her classmates with even the simplest of matters, her hands were tied.

So, if they ever stuck their hand up for either of them, Bustier would wait to see who else would put their hand up, most of the time it was either Max or Nathaniel respectfully, and since they were all friends, no one had called her out for it.

And that’s how she got around it.

So, she started doing her routine, swirling her hand around the, she picked one up and began to read it aloud.

“Lila Rossi. And who would like to be her partner?” Immediately several hands shot up, bringing a smile on her face again, so many wanted to help this girl it filled her with pride and comfort.

And well, she always had to help by picking the most knowledgeable of students.

“Max, I believe I saw your hand up first” Some students moaned that they couldn’t be with Lila, but they knew that maybe next time they would get a shot.

“Ivan Bruel” Unsurprisingly Mylène’s hand shot up first followed by Juleka and Rose, now normally she wouldn’t let couples be together, but she couldn’t break them up, they did their work so well, so she let it slide.

Grabbing the next piece of paper Caline’s once bright smile, dropped as her eyes scanned over the name before sighing audibly, she didn’t need to hide it, everyone knew whose name it was.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng took a deep sigh.

As soon as Bustier told them about a presentation she was immediately filled with dread.

She could quite easily do it well, or at least get a well enough grade considering Bustier’s shady marking skills.

But her partners influence would be something she dreaded.

Best case scenario, they’ll be so repulsed to be in the same room with her that they’d work independently, and it would more or less seem like two separate presentations in one. Her grade was low.

Worst case scenario, she’d be subjected to either do it alone, or screamed about how much they don’t want to be near her. Her grade would be lowered.

Not theirs, hers.

Bustier would exclaim how she wanted the bluenette to rise above it all and forgive them, and until she was a better student in her eyes, she’d be punished for it.

It didn’t help that when her name was specifically called out, there would be a silence they’ll have to endure for what would seem like eternity.

It would either stop when someone so nobly sacrificed themselves to team up with her or Bustier would be forced to wait until the end for the last name to be picked out.

And she hated having to feel like this.

They were all friends, why did it have to be like this?

And well, just like this silence, it would last for a rather uncomfortable time, more than Marinette liked.

Her head rested on the desk, she at this point didn’t care about her appearance in front of the new girl. It had been a week already and at this point Marinette knew they’d be no point getting to know someone who was bound to abandon her.

It was a despairing truth she’d learn from experience, it was why no one hung around her, even from the other classes, they would be a target next.

Marinette couldn’t blame them, if the situations were reversed, she doubted she’d have enough courage to go out of her way to help.

So, she’d just sit, head on desk as time would pass.

“H-Hey! Why do you have your hand up, we told you how she was a bully, why would you want to be her partner!?”

???

Wait-

That wasn’t meant to happen.

Hesitantly, Marinette picked her head up, only to find her seatmate with an eager hand in the air.

She looked over to her face, a smile present as she glanced towards the teacher, waiting for her to say they would be paired together.

“I want to be Marinette’s partner, and I haven’t seen yet why I shouldn’t” Rosann’s head turned innocently to her classmates, she was radiating happiness as they stared in shock. A blond very much as he did want to be her partner when her name was called out, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“Marinette! Did you threaten her as well, girl you’re unbelieva-”

“I’m afraid you are being mistaken Mlle Césaire, I wouldn’t willingly make a partnership with my enemy, now Mlle Bustier you may continue if you would please” Marinette gasped, she- she’d just put a target on her back. For her! This girl was crazy…

And yet, despite her cute appearance, she hadn’t seen someone look so confident and polite.

‘Wait did I say cute-’

Even though the girl had stated her answer, it wasn’t the answer the class was looking for.

“Mlle Bustier you can’t put their names down together” Someone protested. It sounded like Lila, she was always leading the class for this sort of thing.

“Yeah, put my name down for Rosaniline instead, we know she doesn’t mean it.” That was Alya.

“But I-” She felt guilty for the new girl, she really did, she would’ve warned her how you’ll never truly be able to say your opinion without everyone interfering or as she put it, butting in.

“She doesn’t know what’s she’s gotten herself into, the poor girl” Rose spoke, if Marinette wasn’t so used to it she’d flinch from the words Rose spoke about her.

What was bad, Rosann wasn’t able to speak.

What was worse, Bustier was very much considering it.

“I guess it would be for the best” Marinette couldn’t believe it. The one person who willingly decided to pair up with her, was being ignored to be partnered up with someone else.

Not that Marinette wanted them to be with someone else mind you, but it was their decision, why wasn’t she spared a thought and have people notice that maybe they didn’t have to decide for her?

What was crueller, was that Marinette found the one person that was on her side… Was the one person who was the first to make her clamper up.

“This is ridiculous absolutely ridiculous” Of all people, it had to be her to join in?

“How extremely hypocritical of you Mlle Bustier, if I couldn’t change my partner from the last project then neither does Dupain-Cheng in this one, isn’t this school meant to teach fairness. Well, the only fair thing I see is the fairly incompetent from this class” Of course the students didn’t take kindly to her words as Bustier sighed yet again.

She knew Chloé had a point, she’d tried to persuade Chloé to have a different partner than Sabrina a few times in previous projects, it would depend on the person, if Chloé didn’t mind, she’d moan but nothing else. If it was someone she didn’t like, she’d threaten to call the mayor, most of the times she wouldn’t considering out of all the teachers even Chloé would admit she liked Bustier the most, she’d never blame her for anything and she loved that about her, but she had a point none the less.

Besides, Bustier believed that maybe Rosaniline would prove to be a very good example to her previous one, and this could be a great place to start.

“Yes Chloé, I believe I understand now, it would be highly unfair if we didn’t let Rosaniline decide for herself” Marinette couldn’t help the somewhat annoyed glance she gave to the teacher for that comment.

“But Mlle-”

“No buts Alya, now why don’t we use the idea Chloé suggested?” The class all heard the snicker from Chloé, they couldn’t believe she could stoop so low like this.

And then it carried on like it had been, but Marinette couldn’t help but let her curiosity get the better of her and as the class was carrying on, Marinette swallowed the gulp that had formed in her throat and turned to the girl next to her.

“Err- Rosaniline?” She gently tapped the girl’s shoulder, she turned and showed she was listening.

“Yes?” Oh god Mari don’t lose confidence now.

“Why, why did you do that?” With that, she saw a smirk emerge from the girl.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious, but I am rather petty since I refuse to take the word of someone else before doing my own research” Oh. Somehow that wasn’t what she was expecting, but honestly it was better than pretending to care.

“Although… I should apologise, for how abrupt I was about it” Marinette widened her eyes, why- she didn’t do anything wrong?

“I would’ve preferred asking for your consent first, but seeing the opportunity I may have taken it rather quickly” She grasped one of her braids, a nervous habit maybe, Marinette couldn’t help but notice before giving her answer.

“N-No its fine, I-I don’t mind you being my partner, not like I’ve got anyone better- I mean- I didn’t mean it like that. I just- erm, I just. I’m glad you thought about me” If Marinette had been able to look past her hair, she would’ve noticed the small blush creep up on her cheeks.

“No problem”

***

Normally, a weekend would be extremely relaxing to the young designer.

She had as much time to sleep in, plus she started a late shift anyway, her Parents were the best when it came to that, since they knew how much trouble she had getting up on a school day, they knew they couldn’t ask her to get up early for work, especially since it was their workplace.

And she had completed other homework assignments a while ago, so surely there was no reason for why she should be pacing around in the living room so early for her.

Well, it may or may not have something to do with the new girl.

She really should stop calling her new girl, she gave her her name for god’s sake.

But she just felt so nervous.

She told her Parents about this new assignment, and how she actually volunteered to be her partner, and how Marinette in the spur of a moment offered to go to her place on Saturday to start it. And she couldn’t deny when she saw the relieved expression she had when she offered. But now…

She hadn’t had someone over in years, everyone else avoided this place like the plague, the Parents still came though, and although they were slightly informed of the situation, they also just believed it was teenage drama.

Her own Parents showed their own worry, they loved their girl, and they truly didn’t want her to ever be hurt like last time ever again, but they also knew if she never gave this girl a shot, she’d never know.

Was it better to know than to ponder it forever?

That was a phrase Marinette was all too familiar with. However, it still didn’t calm her nerves.

Her Parents had told her if she didn’t want Rosaniline to be around anymore, they’d be more than happy to just so happen have an event take place right at that moment that she would have to leave, even if Marinette hoped that wouldn’t happen.

So, as she continued to pace, she was able to see from her balcony the Parisians all around, her doorway was slightly ajar so she could hear the sound of birds chirping, cars passing, and a motorcycle coming to a stop.

The noise of a motorcycle made her come to a fond thought of her Nonna. She loved her very much, and her free spirit.

Whenever she came back from one of her grand trips, she’d always get Marinette some type of fabric that always made her determined to incorporate into some type of clothing.

It was somewhat why she always stayed in the path of fashion, not just because her Parents would be disappointed in seeing her so unmotivated, but because she still liked the challenge of turning fabric into something.

She giggled, besides that thing from last week, it was the only adventurous thing she had done.

The sound of steps interrupted her as she saw her Maman, she nodded before Marinette felt a slight drop in her stomach.

She was here, she just needed to calm down, it would be fine.

She’d just smile and brace for it.

Walking down the stairs to her bakery was the same as always, she could smell the fresh bread from the oven. She always appreciated this aspect, living in a bakery always meant the aroma was lovely.

Going through the door after her Maman she braced herself to see the ne- er, Rosaniline.

What she didn’t brace for was the little girl cuddling her leg as soon as she entered.

“Hi, my names Piper, can we go to your room now?” She had to compose herself so she wouldn’t fall over with the girl in tow, but she couldn’t help internally awwing at the little kids’ appearance.

Black hair tied back in a red bow, a pink leotard with a lighter coloured tutu skirt. And a short but worn-out blue cape. And to top it all off, sparkly pink shoes faded to orange.

“O-Oh, hi there.” She gave a little wave, still completely confused.

“I’m so sorry Mari, Piper was just too excited to meet you, I’m very sorry for the shock” She saw a concerned look coming from Rosaniline. She sure did fret a lot- ah, she knew she didn’t mean it as a bad thing she just, well, she was used to being quiet and observing.

“Its fine really, but how come you brought your… Sister here?” She was unsure if the guess was right but considering the nod from the other girl, she relaxed knowing she was right. And considering she had to ignore a comment made from her Parents about a nickname she was given, she could just ignore that.

“I’m so sorry for the late notice, it’s just, something came up and I couldn’t find anyone able to take care of her. I’m really sorry for not telling you before but I- I don’t have your phone number so I couldn’t tell you. Eheh. I promise she won’t cause any trouble. Right?” The smaller girl, now back at her Sister’s side, bounced and repeated yes several times.

She looked to her Parents, almost asking them if it was alright, this whole situation caught her slightly off guard, and she momentarily forgot the question was directed at her.

Luckily her Maman was ready.

“Of course its fine, my, your Sister is such a cutie. And what’s your name sweetie?” Her Mother crouched down to make eye level. The girl puffed her chest out before standing straight up.

“My name is Piper Keyne-Hill ma’am, and I am 6 years old” She held one hand up before she looked up.

“Did I do it right?” Rosaniline smiled before bending down to her level as well.

“Do you believe that is the right answer?” Her use of that caused attention to Piper’s hand as the little one looked back, she gasped before proudly extending another finger up.

“There you go” She ruffled her hair as Marinette saw her Mother continue talking with Piper.

And yet… She felt that dread from earlier flee away, seeing Rosaniline interacting with her Sister so fondly brought heat to her cheeks and inside. She just, felt so calm around her.

And that warm smile…

She, kinda wanted her to smile like that to her…

“Marinette?” That broke her out of her trance, she looked over at her Papa who had a confused look.

“Shouldn’t you two start working on the project?”

“Huh? Oh- oh yeah, yes of course the project… Eh, Rosaniline lets go, I’ve got some kid books to keep Piper company” She didn’t mind the weight on her arm, or the way her Parents smiled at her interactions with the cherry haired girl.

She just minded how heavy her heart was pounding for some reason.

Marinette never considered her room big, she always found it spacious, it might be due to her always misplacing at least something when she’s in a rush, but she knew where it would be.

Stepping over to her desk draw, she pulls out a bunch of child books, since Nadja always did spring a babysitting job on her, she figured there was no reason to place them somewhere that would be too much of a hassle to keep getting out. So, she kept them closer.

Turning back, she saw the two looking around her room, Piper held so much excitement as Rosaniline wore a smile.

“Woooooow, it’s so pink, Rosalee what type is it?” Tugging at her Sister’s cardigan the older girl smiled.

“There are many different types, so I doubt I know the exact one… But I’d say it was a coral pink” She pattered her head as she too looked over the room, a somewhat reminiscent expression as she takes it all in.

“Mari I’m so jealous, to be able to live in a bakery with all of those magnificent smells around every day, it must be like heaven” Marinette scratched her head, ok- this was all so different, no matter how much she wanted to go back to her usual self, there was always something holding her back. Almost like, if she fell in this trap again, she’d mess it up, before she could be comfortable.

There she goes again, over thinking the situation like before.

No wonder-

“Ahh- it’s a tiger, look look” Piper’s voice brought her out of it as she saw Piper sitting in Rosaniline’s legs.

“Mmhmmn, so, Mari should we get started?” Marinette could only nod before they pulled out some books to get started.

***

‘This was easier when I had to do it on my own’ The bluenette thought, now don’t get her wrong, they weren’t arguing or anything, they just couldn’t exactly agree on a subject together.

When Rosaniline suggested gory fairy tales, she had to physically force herself not to shudder, fortunately the girl opposite her said it was a mere jest, thinking it would’ve been funny to see the teachers face when they spoke about it, but maybe it would be too much.

Rosaniline even joked that they may not have anything in common at all, that did nothing to soothe the young girls’ nerves. She just knew this might not have been the best decision, if they couldn’t find a topic, she knew Bustier would blame her for it, and if Bustier blamed her no doubt the class would as well. And it would just be one more point for them as they’d slowly but surely turn Rosaniline away from her.

It’s not like she would be disappointed or anything, it’s just, she’d rather be right now than in the future with her hopes up.

But, it didn’t help that her feelings were so mixed about this. Why was it she wanted to get to know Rosaniline?

Knock knock.

“Girls, I think you’re due a break now, don’t you?” Marinette was relieved, surely after some food they’ll be able to come up with at least one idea.

“Yes, Mlle Dupain-Cheng, that would be lovely.”

“Now stop that, you can call me Sabine, aw such a polite child you are” She blushed as she rubbed the back of her head.

“Marinette dear, mind if you help me?” Her eyes were confused, her Maman would normally never ask for help, what was so different now?

But not wanting to cause a scene she nodded and proceeded to climb down, just as Piper was moving onto a different type of picture book.

Going over to the kitchen she saw that her Mother had prepared so much food it would’ve looked like a feast, but that was how she was, whenever guests came over you could see more food on a table than a table.

She hoped Rosaniline and Piper had an appetite.

“Is everything alright dear?” She felt her Maman’s hands on her shoulders, it was always reassuring that her Parents did so much to look out for her, even when she pretended to be just fine her Parents would give her time just to be by herself if she needed it and then be there if she wanted to talk.

“Yes Maman, she’s really nice… We just haven’t figured out what topic to do yet.” She laughed nervously as her Mother couldn’t help but give a somewhat serious expression.

“You know, if you at all feel uncomfortable, we can still make up an excuse-” She shook her head.

“No Maman its fine really, if anything we’ll just keep it to the school library… She’s- I don’t know, I can’t explain it, I just feel-”

“Relaxed?” Her Mother finished the sentence for her, she nodded as Sabine thought how glad this girl was making her feel.

“Alright, well then get back up there, you don’t want her thinking you abandoned her?” She nudged her cheek as Marinette pushed her hand gently. She gave her Mum a kiss on the cheek before making her way back up to her room.

She couldn’t explain the feeling much, it was like she was feeling peaceful, a smooth tranquillity around her.

It wasn’t a feeling she had around her older friends, it always seemed like whatever they did was rushed, no time to process it. Or they didn’t let her speak.

Rosaniline did, she let her speak, she listened to her, she made her- feel.

She didn’t want that feeling to go away.

“Piper- I know you like this book, but I don’t think you should be flicking through it.”

“But why? Marilee gave me these. And they look so pretty I want one.” The little one responded, she didn’t demand, she was raised better than that.

“Well, I don’t think she meant to give you this one.” She was confused, wait what book was it?

Her heart stopped as she saw a pink cover-

That- that was her commission book!

She was rushing too much to even notice that she’d given Piper that one book.

Oh god, she was going to see her secret, that she was starting her own commission blog, that she was MDC- that she could tell everyone at Collège Françoise Dupont, and it could ruin her career. That everyone could post lies about her, making nobody trust her and demand refunds, and maybe she’d get taken in by the police- be sent to jail and never have her dream job of-

“Mari? Hey, Mari can you hear me?” She felt warm hands wrap around her own. She could feel herself look up as silver concerned eyes looked back at hers.

She felt another tug at her skirt, looking down to see Piper with her own worried expression.

“Did I make Marilee upset?” It was a simple question that pulled at her heartstrings, she felt tears prickle at her eyes for her overthinking. But she didn’t mean for Piper to be upset, or for Rosaniline to be worried either.

There she went again, overthinking every little thing that she couldn’t account for, why did she have to be this way, why did she have to be so cynical and downright negative.

“Oh no, heavens no Piper, I just- er had something in my eye, yeah. You didn’t do anything Piper, I’m glad you like the books I gave you.” Piper smile grew as she proceeded to drag Marinette over to the books again.

She seemed to be putting on an act though, from what Rosaniline could see. She was panicking over something, why? She didn’t know, she did want to find out but didn’t want to push it. She had a habit of wanting to find out answers, it wasn’t a bad thing, she remembered her Mum say, it’s just sometimes she could be just a teeny bit insensitive about it.

Looking over the scene she saw her little Sister pointing excitedly at the pages of sketched clothing, her saying how much she loved them and all the colours that she used and said how the author was so creative.

Marinette laughed along, her tears faded as she enjoyed Piper’s enthusiasm, almost making a note to definitely make her something- and for Rosaniline of course, it’ll be weird to make it for one and not the other.

And then- an idea struck.

“I know, why don’t we do it about the history of fashion?” The dark-skinned girl spoke up. She saw two heads turn towards her as she grinned. Putting her hands together near her cheeks as she spiralled in her own thoughts.

“I’ve always wanted to learn more about it, to see the transformations going through all the ages. And this could be the perfect time. So, what do you think?” It was a question that seemed as if she could reject it, but it still felt like a trick.

What if she didn’t suggest this as a solution, but for convenience for herself, since now she knew she liked fashion and would make her do all the work, it’s not like it hadn’t happened before, so why did it hurt so much to have her do it?

Did she have any right to object, wouldn’t it seem like she was being way to fussy? They already saw her sketches before, so she couldn’t deny she was a good artist. But then what if the others thought it was her idea?

That she made Rosaniline chose this subject, and get told how selfish to have done so, a disappointing gaze from Bustier, a disapproving gaze from Adrien, she felt her chest tighten up again, oh god, she was overthinking again, why did she have to be like this?

“Hey- hey Mari, we don’t have to if you don’t want… I-er saw you liked videogames; we could always do it about that if you want?” But Mari felt so disappointed in herself, she was being so accommodating to her, why, why for her? She didn’t deserve this.

“B-But Marilee’s so good at drawing, she can really really really draw. I know you can do it.” Piper enthusiastically cheered, she would’ve smiled but couldn’t, not yet, she just had to think through it.

What could she do?

“Piper, not now” Rosaniline slightly scolded, she never liked doing it honestly, but besides her Mother she had the trademark glare that told her to pack it in.

Unfortunately, Piper never did look at her while she was in such an energetic mood.

What could she do?

“Rosalee she’s amazing, she’s the best in the world. Don’t do it about stupid video games.” She tried persuading her Sister to see some sense, in the short time that she had known Marilee, she was pretty much enarmed with her, she found another Sister that needed a confidence boost.

What. Could. She. Do!?

“Piper!- Look, sometimes not everyone wants to show their skills to other people, and we have to respect that, ok?” She crouched down to her level, kids felt less intimidated when you weren’t so tall, besides, Piper didn’t mean anything by it, she was always told to follow her heart, and if she was proud of something, she should show it off for the whole world to see.

What could-

Wait?

Could someone really be so accommodating? Could it really be true? Could all of this be true?

“Aww… Ok Rosalee, sorry Marilee” Piper hugged Marinette’s leg, and even though it felt like she was getting told off, she knew she wasn’t in real trouble.

Or was it a persona?

“I’ll do it.”

If this was a plan, a plan to make her do all the work, then she’ll go along with it. It felt so mean, so immature, so senseless that she still wasn’t trusting her, but she didn’t want to turn Rosaniline away without any evidence, besides, if this was all a trick, then surely it was better this way, she would’ve foreseen it and everything would go back to normal, she’d go off to join the class while she’d be alone once more, maybe they’ll have passing glances and memories of what could’ve been but she wouldn’t leave her here open and out to be in such a vulnerable position.

Not just for her, but for both, she didn’t know what would happen after another heartbreak.

“Huh?”

“I- I don’t mind if we do it about fashion, I mean, only if you want to, I don’t mind teaching you about it, I-I even had some books stored just for this, so I guess its lucky right” A nervous laughter evolved as she looked at anywhere but her.

However, the cherry haired girl wasn’t as convinced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I guess little Piper just convinced me.” The little girl fist pumped to herself before running along back to her books before the bluenette felt soft hands on her shoulders.

“As long as you want to as well, I… Wouldn’t want to force you or anything” Quick, she had to ease the tension.

“-Psst- Don’t worry so much Rosaniline, c’mon I’ll see where I put those books, also how far do you wanna go back, if we go too far, we might not be able to cover everything. But if we go to a few years back our presentation would just be too small. Maybe we can just go halfway. That reminds me maybe we could have a physical element, I could throw together some pieces of old works together and show them of as we talk- or” Her shoulders were gently grabbed again as she looked at the close proximity she was in, it made her blush just a tad more than she thought she ever could.

“Maybe we could discuss that, over something to eat?” She quickly looked down and remembered the food on the ground, no doubt cold now. She felt guilt come in before seeing her passionate smile.

“Sorry, I just saw how passionate you were about this, I couldn’t bear to stop you, but then I got worried if you’d run out of air, Eheh. Think we can heat the food up?” She nodded, maybe it might be better to eat downstairs after all, now that Marinette knew what topic she- they were doing, they could crack on and complete it earlier than the deadline.

She’d have to get Rosaniline’s phone number of course, just in case they needed to discuss other things but that could wait.

Of course, it could wait.

She was just so happy in that moment, she- she may have really wanted to try and be her friend.

And maybe-

No- she just wanted to continue to be near her, to hold her hand when she’s upset, to help her when she’s had a bad day.

To be… Closer to her, to that warmth.

… Was it selfish of her to want to be near that warmth for longer?

***

Night had fallen upon Paris, but the lone girl on her balcony didn’t mind at all.

Ever since that day, a part of her wished something else would happen.

No- she didn’t want the hero to be hurt again, that’s by far too sadistic to even think about… But she was really excited by all of those events, when she was able to get a breather, there was a rush of adrenaline throwing through her veins, and even if she did want something else to happen, she’d prefer to be out here just to see if she could get a glimpse of the hero again.

It had been a week since it happened, and Marinette could only guess she must have been resting from her… Fight? Was that the right word? Oh well, she must’ve been resting since she hadn’t heard anything about her from the news for a while, she could only hope her wound would heal by professionals instead of her shoddy work. But- she had to realise that she had to hope for the hero’s survival.

For Soliane Rin’s survival.

… She may have read a bit more into her- but it was only out of curiosity, she wasn’t going to gain another obsessive crush over someone famous again, nope, nada, she wasn’t going to fall for those really amazing silver eyes the press had made sure to call grey, but she was sure they were silver.

Wait, no it wasn’t like she looked at them for particularly long or anything, she definitely didn’t get lost in them, she saw a poster of them! Ah- this wasn’t helping. She needed to change the subject immediately!

Clang.

She jumped up instantly, her commissions book that was resting on her lap was now flying through the air! Oh no, she was going to lose everything, crap! Her designs!

A figure, however, flew up to catch them before landing in front of the startled girl.

“I believe these books were trying to plan their escape from you mi Belle” It was her; it really was her! She was-

“You’re alright” Her happiness took over her before she could even register that she had leapt into the arms of the hero of Paris.

She was going to regret this so much.

With her cheeks rosying so much, she jumped back until she fell back onto her chair, apology after apology escaping the girl not daring to look at her face.

‘How embarrassing, how inappropriate, how childish. Why did she have to make a fool out of herself now? In front of the new hero no less? Again!’

“There’s no need for any embarrassment, I was unaware I’d caused you such panic over my recovery, if I’d known you were worried, I would’ve visited a lot sooner.” Ah- she was always so formal with her choice of words. It was great, she was great- wait what?

“But I- didn’t realise you’d wish to see me after my blunder from last time.” That made her perk up, what… What was she talking about?

Soliane’s gaze seemed to be fixated on the ground as she looked so- so frustrated with herself. Why?

“To have failed on the first day as a hero, to have troubled a civilian with help. I can’t thank you enough to have woken you at such a godly hour just for my sake” She bowed her head forward as Marinette couldn’t help but try to make her stop.

“It’s nothing really, I mean I’m sure anyone else would help out a hero like you. I-I mean maybe not everyone else since there are some bad people but I’m sure most will. Not that you don’t need it, I mean you do- don’t I- I’m sorry I’m rambling again” Soliane Rin didn’t appear to hear her as she carried on with her tirade.

“But to not even know who it was that harmed me. I-I don’t deserve to have my title as a hero.” Why? Why was she saying this? She- no she couldn’t be serious.

But that look made it all the more real, she’d seen it so much. Every time she ever looked in the mirror after crying for so long, regret, disappointment, anything and everything negative flashed through her mind and she could tell, see everything, all of it.

And knew it broke her, would break her.

Marinette knew she didn’t have any powers.

She couldn’t shoot lasers from her eyes.

She couldn’t fly.

She couldn’t control objects through her mind.

But- how Mother always said she had a talent for one thing.

Empathy.

She could be so understanding when her mind was so calm, when she wasn’t worrying about what others were thinking of her, when she could see, truly see inside their heart, all of their feelings out on display, and helping them, by being there for them.

For knowing exactly what to say…

It- may not always work, but no superhero comes out of every battle unscathed.

“Please stop” She looked up, but it was still such a pitying look. She could see through her smile, but it felt as if she wasn’t even trying to hide it, like there was no use concealing it.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for a mistake like that, it’s not fair to you- or to me. Yes, I was scared when I saw you injured, but I’m so glad that you’re here now. You’re still standing. You still want to continue even when you were hurt. I’ve seen just how strong you are, how confident you can be when the world tried to throw its worse at you.” She stepped closer to her, having gotten up from her fallen position.

“So please don’t give up for one mistake,”

She stepped closer…

“Don’t give up when I know you have the strength in you to persist.” She wrapped her arms around her again, and this time she wasn’t so embarrassed about doing it.

She was crying…

She tried to use those words for someone else.

It hadn’t worked… So, she had to believe in anything and everything for it to succeed now, for her.

“You risk your life every day, and yet you never ask for anything. I want to thank you for all that you’ve done, on behalf of Paris, no, the whole world. You’re a real hero Soliane Rin. Please don’t doubt that.” She hugged a bit tighter; she hadn’t meant to get so emotional on her, but maybe that emotion wasn’t just for her.

It was silent.

Too silent.

Marinette had to hold her breath in anticipation, did- did she go too far? Did she overstep her boundaries again? Did she-

“Ah I see. Thank you, I-I mean, I appreciate your gratitude Marinette” When she looked back, she could see her cheeks were red, she could see her silver eyes look back at her before seeing her own cheeks reddening as well- wait, she was so close! Again!

She jumped back again, not falling this time, thanking the heavens that she wasn’t making a fool out herself as much as usual.

“I must commend your stubbornness my dear. I- I hadn’t imagined you’d have a positive opinion of me after that, I must apologise for making such a rash assumption about you, and for- eh snapping me out of that. I’m thankful to have met such a kind and respectable hero like you.” She bowed her head again as Marinette had to comprehend what had just happened.

It felt awkward, Soliane Rin was blushing a lot, Marinette was blushing like crazy as well.

“Me a hero, what no way. You’re just joking, don’t tell me you hit your head too?” She waved her hands in front of her. She recalled how clumsy she was, how often she’d trip on the stairs to Collège or even when she dropped her tray of pastries on the floor, that one was particularly embarrassing.

However, she was too late to see that Soliane had stopped her smile as Marinette began to panic again.

“No! I didn’t mean hit your head I meant did you crack it- no check it- no I mean, how can I ever be a hero to anything, I’m just me, Marinette. I don’t have any superpowers or anything I’m just an ordinary girl ehehehe” She felt her hand taken by the hero again, her heart stopping for a moment before jumping to x2, she couldn’t believe she was holding her hand again.

“Just because I wear a mask and costume doesn’t make me a hero. It’s my ideals and thoughts for the people. Marinette, you may not have powers, or a hero name. But you can be a hero still. After all, All that is needed for the prevail of malevolence is that individuals concede defeat.” Marinette was shocked, she just- wow, that was cool. And… So sweet. To say that, about anyone, about her. Even if she didn’t fully believe it at first, she’d be sure to keep those words very close to her heart.

The bluenette smiled back, before they both looked over her balcony and over Paris, they share a moment just looking out, the silence was comforting to them as some time passed.

There was a question that may have crossed her mind at one point, she felt guilty for taking so much time out of her day- night- schedule? Oh well, she had to ask just one little thing.

Marinette fiddling with her fingers, she took a deep breath.

“S-So do you have to do a patrol or-” Soliane looked up surprised before checking something around her wrist, she laughed nervously before turning back.

“Huh- oh yes, unfortunately I won’t be able to stay longer, however it would be even more unbefitting of me to avoid my job any further” She wanted to deny what she said was true, but saw her giggle so slightly, knowing it was a small joke, she lightened up as Soliane Rin bows again and flies off from her balcony railings bidding her adieu.

With her hand resting where her heart was beating, faster than usual, faster then whenever she was late for class. Faster than-

Oh no.

No no no! Not again, how did she not realise it sooner?

How!?

This familiar feeling.

Why did it come back?

And why did she want it to stay!?

***

I hope you enjoyed it.

Anyway, I’m willing to take a bunch off prompts for Rosann and Mari on date nights/doing couple things, whether you want some added salt from the class is up to each requester, I may turn a few away if I either feel uncomfortable or simply not able to write it, these prompts will come out randomly, I have no structure to anything. To submit, I’ll allow for the idea to be within any time frame, i.e. when they first meet, to being friends, to being a couple. I do love angst although I’ll be unsure how to make it work when it should be a ton off fluff stuff. If you have any questions don’t feel afraid to ask, I might have to clarify some points. I’ll be ordering the prompts, and stating when they come in the main story, what you would’ve need to have read before, if it contained any spoilers for certain chapters and any trigger warnings, although you may need to state what might be triggering as sometimes, I too get confused on what I need to state, if anyone can do that then that’s alright.)

Even though I like a Saltinette, sometimes I still wanna see a different perspective of her, an anxious, guilt-ridden, cautious, mess like this version. I just think it’ll be interesting to basically rewrite Marinette’s character. Instead of this sassy overconfident one in most fanfic’s I’ve now changed the status quo. Haha.

And I believe I’ve taken a somewhat realistic approach to Marinette trying to trust someone else, I didn’t want to just rush into it. However, I do think it’s a bit different with Soliane Rin because she is a hero, and I think Marinette could trust her a lot easier than Rosaniline.

Also did you know that Majestia’s quote was a straight rip off of Edmund Burke’s?

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.

Yeah...

Cya next time.

Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker. They also may change in the future because I can never stop adding stuff.

31 notes · View notes

guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Blended

I was (thankfully) given some time off during this holiday season; which I promptly used to spend time with the family and recharge at home. Also spent time watching various movies during this time and a little LoK story idea came from it.

In my usual writing preference – it’s still a Lin/Tenzin endgame story but – in sort of a modern setting AU, blended family/semi-highschool themed with ages differed a bit (Lin and Tenzin was aged down by around 5 years). Expect it to be tropey and may be a bit of a cliché. This is written on a whim so if it doesn’t make sense…ah well. Haha! May edit this piece later on…

I’m considering this to be a short story, just a little self-indulgent-written-for-fun type of thing. But if other people enjoy it too then that’s such an added bonus so I’m sharing it with you as well. 😊 Let me know what you think since this is somewhat different from my usual style, I guess.

Also – I have misgivings regarding creating OCs so I’m likely to lean on canon characters and take a lot of creative license in developing them for the story.

---

Title (tentative): Blended

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

(Not sure if one-shot or will be multi-part yet)

---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School

“Thank you for making time to meet today,” The silver-haired lady clasped her hands together on her desk. “I know you must have a packed schedule, but I think it would be good to have the check-in session for your daughter today.”

“Yes, of course – anything for my daughter.” The bald and bearded man threw a look at the door’s window, where he could see his daughter swinging her legs while seated at the corridor.

“Ikki is a bright child and she’s been doing her best to catch up with the class requirements. She excels the most at individual tasks.” The teacher continued to talk a little bit more about the projects that the students have been working on.

Teacher Yue handed the father a folder marked “Ikki”. Tenzin carefully picked it up and looked into the contents, smiling as he saw Ikki’s artworks and class outputs.

“However, I see that she seems to have challenges in adjusting in a large class set-up.” Yue shared. “It’s nothing to worry about though. We’ve had several transferees in the past as well and this is usual; I expect that might take a little bit longer since it’s a transition from homeschooling to a big school.”

Tenzin frowned and he hurt for his daughter. His two children had both been homeschooled until recently.

They also had to experience a lot of upheaval in the past year or so – from the divorce, to being uprooted from their childhood home, moving to a new city, and then going to a new school.

He did notice that while his son was as precocious as ever (maybe owing to his young age?), his daughter had become more subdued since their move.

“What can we do for her?”

“Well, we have a big sister-little sister type of mentorship program.” The teacher pushed forward a brochure and several index cards. “It’s mostly an afterschool interaction activity, we have here several students who have been volunteering. Maybe you’d like to ask Ikki to join?” She pointed at the index cards. “Feel free to select which mentor you think would help her best. We usually ask the parent or the student to select their preferred mentor profile from the roster. We would not want Ikki to feel uncomfortable; you’d know her best than any teacher.”

He nodded. After a few moments perusing the index cards and the brochure and pulled out one from the pile. “Let’s go with this girl.”

Tenzin pointed out to a profile labelled Jinora.

---

Jinora, Home

The ten-year old girl has just finished putting hair in a bun when she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

“Jinora!” It was her oldest brother. “Mom says I can use the car today – want to leave with us instead of riding the bus?”

“Sure!” She called back, quickly grabbing her backpack. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright!”

Smack!

“Hey! Why did you do that for?”

“Good morning bro!”

Jinora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. That was probably her other brother slapping the arm of the other one.

Even at eighteen and sixteen years old respectively, they tend to act like children occasionally to the consternation of their mother.

She hurried down, knowing that if she did not do so, there would be no pancakes left for her.

Jinora heard her mother’s gruff voice in the dining room. “Bolin! Leave some eggs for your sister!”

“But, Mom,” Bolin spoke through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “I’m a growing boy. I need this stuff.”

“And Jinora is a growing girl,” Their mother drolly responded, taking a sip of her coffee after putting down the last batch of pancakes on the platter. “There should be enough from everyone.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Jinora immediately sat down and her brother forked two pancakes to her plate. “Thanks, Mako.” She slathered butter all over the cakes then squeezed a load of maple syrup.

She ignored Bolin gagging at her left at the amount of sweetness. She also ignored her mother who was hiding a smile and shaking her head at seeing the display.

In their family, it was only Jinora had a penchant for sweets. Her mother said she likely took after her father in that regard.

Her father…her absentee father…

Jinora shook off her maudlin thoughts when she saw Pabu, Bolin’s pet guinea pig, land on her mother’s shoulder, probably hopping from her brother’s backpack which was hung behind his chair.

Pabu began chewing their mother’s greying hair without warning.

Wheek-wheek-wheek.

“BOLIN!”

“I’m so sorry, Mom! Pabu get down from there – leave mom’s hair alone!”

All in all, it was another morning in their household.

It was noisy and sometimes chaotic, but Jinora would not exchange it for the world.

---

Ikki, library

Truth be told, Ikki liked going to school. She even liked her teacher and classmates.

She liked to be busy and the activities were very interesting. Getting homeschooled and only seeing their tutor, nanny and Meelo had become very tedious anyway.

Staying at their old home also reminded her acutely that their mother was not there anymore. She did not understand what happened, but she tried to.

It has been more than a year since their parents sat her and her brother down to explain that they were separating but it did not mean they did not love her and Meelo any less.

At first, she thought it might have been her fault (or maybe Meelo’s fault for that matter, he did fart a lot and that annoyed her terribly). Her dad and mom were quick to quash those theories, however. They spoke of drifting apart, change in priorities and other grown-up things that she supposed she will understand when she gets older.

But for now, she supposed as she opened her notebook on one of the long tables in the library, they would need to get used to their new living arrangement.

It was difficult last year as they were shuttled to and from two households. It also did not help that their mother was starting out with her new venture had been spending less time at her home. On the other hand, Ikki noticed their father spending more time with them, cutting down his work hours. It all came to a head when Pema had said she will be moving to another country to establish her new business. And so, they ended up -.

“Hey, are you Ikki?”

Ikki looked up to see an older girl with dark brown hair in a bun.

She nodded her head yes.

The girl gave her a bright smile and extended her hand.

“I’m Jinora and welcome to Republic City!”

---

Lin, Future Industries Head Office

Lin tiredly wiped her glasses clean before putting them on again, rereading her email response for one last time before hitting send.

It had been a long yet productive day. Her team had managed to fulfill all the visual design requirements that were due that day. She reviewed the different files sent to the printers, making sure that the final and correct collaterals were attached.

Her last task was to ensure that the last set of proposals were on-brand and aligned with Future Industries’ visual identity. Once she had provided her comments and revisions needed on the file, she sat back as she waited for the files to be uploaded to their server.

She reached for her cellphone, wanting to check on her kids while waiting. She looked at their family group chat and read messages from the last time she sent one.

Ohana (Lin repressed the urge to cringe. That was the final time that she would ask Bolin to create their group chat)

Lin: Kids – as mentioned earlier, I’ll be home a bit late. No need to drop by to fetch me; have dinner already and don’t wait up.

Jinora: Mom, I’ll be staying behind after class – I got a mentee! ☺ Mako Bolin can you wait up?

Mako: Jinora Bo has training today; I think we can wait for you.

Bolin: Jinora 👍🏼

Jinora: Mako Bolin thanks! 🙌

Jinora: Mako what will you be doing while waiting? You sure you’ll be okay?

Mako: Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.

Lin scrolled through some more messages. Knowing her eldest, Mako would like skulk off to the library.

Jinora: I met my mentee this afternoon. She’s such a lovely girl.

Lin smiled at this. Her daughter had always been the polite one.

Jinora: Her name’s Ikki and she’s two years younger than me. She said she and her father had first checked out Patola Mountain Primary.

Lin frowned. Patola Primary was far; she went there as a child.

Mako: Kid didn’t like it there?

Jinora: They didn’t have the chance to know. They had to move besause of her father’s job.

Bolin: heeey sorry guys- just about to be done with training. Just gonna shower …unless I just shower at home?

Jinora: Ew, no Bo. Shower first please

Mako: Agree. You’ll stink up the car, bro.

Ding!

Lin drew her attention from her phone as her laptop screen indicated that the files have been uploaded. She hit the send button and packed up for the day.

She was looking forward to spending some quiet time with her kids tonight.

---

Bumi, White Lotus Headquarters

Bumi leaned back in his fully ergonomic chair, thinking about how times had changed.

Being in an office was something he balked at when he was younger. But now, after serving a long career in defense and military, he submitted his retirement and come to the aid of his younger brother.

Ah, his only brother – back in the day, he would be hard-pressed to keep contact with his brother.

His brother who took on the role of spearheading their family’s company back when their father died.

His brother who had the task of continuing to revive the company and making sure it keeps up with the times.

His brother, who, despite being the youngest, was tagged by the board of directors as the heir apparent owing to his excellent academic records.

His brother who Bumi had felt envious of at some point. He later on realized that his brother actually missed out on a lot of freedom in his life.

His brother who managed to keep their company part of the Top 100 and make malls relevant again.

His brother who probably made some life decisions for the benefit of their company rather than his own.

His brother who had been through hell and back the past year when he and his much younger wife called it quits. His brother whose ex-wife is now galivanting somewhere in the Fire Nation, expanding a business built on horticulture and floristry.

His brother who, despite making some decisions that Bumi might not agree with, is still family.

And if there was anything that their parents taught them – family is permanent.

The ex-military man took a deep breath, looking at their last family photo. For what it’s worth, he liked to think that their fragmented family had found its way back into each other in their adulthood.

Bumi had to admit that Tenzin did have remarkable business acumen that benefited their company, a conglomerate built on the mall industry. With the fourth industrial revolution at hand and the shift towards virtual and digital, the White Lotus Corporation had been challenged during the last years of their father’s life. Tenzin had worked hard to change the ways of working and the culture in the company.

To do it, he had to make sure that there is a buy-in from the board. Ironically, to bring the company to the current century, he had to abide with one of the most archaic practices – an arranged marriage, a marriage that would serve as a press release to the business world in general, that their company was stable and there to stay.

Bumi had been surprised to get a call from Tenzin back then. He had called to let him know of his impending engagement, seeking support. Bumi had cheered, given his congratulations – but named the wrong bride. He had launched into a long tirade, berating his brother for his choices. Tenzin had shouted back his defense.

He still did not understand why Tenzin acted the way he did. However, he could never regret his niece and nephew which came from this questionable business-like union.

Bloop-bloop-bloop.

Speaking of which…

“Hey Uncle Bumi!”

“Hello there, cloudchild!” Bumi greeted his niece with a nickname his sister Kya came up with, given that the kids were actually born somewhere near the mountains. “How’s the new school?”

“It’s great!” Ikki beamed at him and gushed into a long narrative of what she had been up to in the past days.

Bumi enjoyed video conferencing with his niece and nephew. Granted, Meelo had a short attention span but Ikki had always had the flair for storytelling.

It pleased him to see her spark back. He had heard from his brother and their trusted bodyguard/chauffeur Shung that Ikki had been withdrawn during the first weeks in Republic City. It saddened him to learn that the otherwise bubbly child had been affected in that way.

“…And then, I invited her over! Daddy said it was okay – and she’s sooooo nice. Didjaknow she also knows how to play the piano! We practiced a bit. She’s good even if her family didn’t have a piano, they only had this electronic keyboard but it’s so short. But she did well. She said she had a stepdad and it was totally okay. They’re a happy family. D’you think I’ll have a stepmom too? I think it would be okay if Daddy thinks so and maybe we’ll be a happy family here too and you know I joined this contest in school and I-.”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo.” Bumi let out his booming laughter. “I didn’t quite catch it – what’s the name of your new friend?” He was heartened that Ikki seemed to have adjusted better now.

“Jinora!” His seven-year-old niece practically chirped the name. “She’s actually here!” Ikki turned to someone from beyond the view of the webcam. “Jin, it’s my Uncle Bumi – I want you to meet him!”

“Um, it’s fine, Ikki.” A calm voice of an older child can be heard. “I can wait here.”

“Nooonseeense.” Bumi could see Ikki pull something, rather someone to the camera. “Uncle Bumi, this is my friend Jinora. Jinora, my Uncle Bumi.” She said by way of introducing them.

Jinora gives a small wave and a soft hello.

Bumi gives them a short bow. “Nice to meet you, Jinora. It’s great to meet the friend of my favorite niece (Ikki please don’t tell Korra).”

Ikki gives a delighted clap and proceeds into another lengthy tale on what she and Jinora were working on that day at home.

Bumi smiles back at them, observing the children’s banter as they demonstrate the monologue that Ikki was preparing for. It was amusing.

Heh, they could be cousins.

He recalled when he was young, he, his siblings and even the sisters-who-must-not-be-named would stay over in one house after school to work on school projects. It had been one of the highlights of his childhood. He was glad that his niece would be somewhat experience it; he had been worried a few years back when Tenzin and Pema (primarily Pema) were very protective of their kids. It was to the point that they were both homeschooled and basically kept out of the public eye and the public itself.

It can’t be good for socialization. But what can he say? He didn’t have kids so he probably wouldn’t know what he was talking about, right?

He’s just fun ole Uncle Bumi.

Nonetheless, as he turned his attention back to the two girls, Bumi promised himself that he will always be there for his brother’s kids. It’s the least he could do as their godfather.

---

Mako, Republic City High

“I worry about Mom.” Mako picked at his dumplings during lunch time, a stark contrast to his brother who was eating a lot (“Coach said I needed to bulk up!”).

“Why? Has my dad been overworking her?” Asami slipped beside him at their usual lunch table. She brought out her packed lunch of pasta and a bottle of coconut water. “Just let me know and I can try to look into it.” She was, after all, interning at Future Industries in her spare time.

“Now that’s just powerplay.” The exchange student from Ba Sing Se High chortled, taking a sip of his sparkling water. “And that’s a no-no and Auntie will definitely get mad if she hears about that.”

“You would know about powerplay,” Bolin swallowed a mouthful of chicken, pointing his fork at the other boy. “Wasn’t that why you got the last slot in the elective you wanted to take this year?”

“Who? Me?” The other boy dramatically placed a hand on his chest, eyes widening. “You think, I Wu would stoop so low as to manipulate the results of the audition for the voice elective? Don’t you think I have enough talent to get into that class?”

Bolin just snorted into his food and Asami choked on her drink. Wu cracked a smile at their reactions.

“Again, Wu – don’t let Mom hear you call her Auntie.” Mako reiterated for the nth time in their friendship. “She hates it.”

“That’s why I do it.” Wu winked at them.

“Wait, Mako, what were you saying about Mom?” Bolin managed to ask in between bites of food. “Is something wrong? I mean, she’s a little bit run-down but she said it’s just because of the time of the year.” The last quarter of the year, after all, is usually the busiest.

“No, it’s just – well,” Mako sought words to explain it. “I’ll be leaving for college, you’ll be away for training, and okay, Jinora would be there but she’s in middle school now…” He trailed off. With Jinora’s aptitude and interests, Mako would not be surprised if she took on a lot of electives and extra-curricular activities. “Mom works too hard, you know?” He ended lamely.

“She has always looked out for us, but yeah,” A shadow passed over his brother’s face. “Ever since Pa passed away a few years back, she poured much of her energy to ensuring our welfare. She’s barely spent time for herself.”

Mako met Bolin’s now worried eyes.

The brothers knew that their mom had sacrificed a lot for them and Jinora.

When they first met Lin and one-year-old Jinora, she had already been under a lot of duress – taking care of a baby, leaving behind Jinora’s deadbeat dad, settling down in a new neighborhood and restarting a career. It had been two years later when she married their father San, who had been a sergeant at the city’s police station at the time.

And, Mako thought wearily, history has not been kind to Lin Beifong at all. While they did have four years (four wonderful years that Mako will treasure for the rest of his life), their fairytale-like family life came to an abrupt end.

San was involved in an armed bank robbery four years later and had not survived the gunshot wounds – leaving Lin behind with two boys at the brink of puberty and a young daughter.

Bolin and Jinora had been very confused at the time. Mako, already fifteen, had been expecting that he and Bolin would be forced into the system or sent off to their relatives in Ba Sing Se. He felt that Lin would not be in any way obligated to take him and his brother in; they were not blood relatives anyway. They were just stepchildren.

To his stunned astonishment, Lin did neither. He recalled crying in Lin’s arms that night after his father’s funeral.

She had asked him, with a confused expression, why he was packing. Lin wept alongside him as she explained that Mako and Bolin are her sons and there was no way that she was sending them away.

Since then, Mako made sure to look after his mom the way she looked after them. The brothers’ protectiveness was soon well-known in their neighborhood.

Probably also why no one had expressed any type of interest towards Lin even years after…

Mako reflected that it might have been a good move on their part but now it might have been a little bit selfish.

He and Bolin would now need to rethink their strategy…

After all, their mom Lin deserves all the happiness in the world.

---

Tenzin, Republic City Primary School – Parking Lot

“Are you sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to have a sleepover?” Tenzin looked over at his daughter, a teasing grin out of place on his face.

“Of course not, Daddy.” Ikki replied indignantly, kicking pebbles as they waited at the parking lot.

“Why can’t you do the project at our house?” He was actually leaning towards allowing Ikki on her first ever sleepover/overnight but he wanted to hear from his daughter.

“We’ll need a big big printer, Daddy.” Ikki raised her arms to show him just how big. “We’ll need to print out my project and Jinora’s mommy has a big printer and lamin-lami-lamintor (“Laminating machine, dear?” Tenzin clarified.) because she frilancets (“Freelances?”).”

“Mmhhmm.” Tenzin looked across the school building, shifting Ikki’s overnight bag on his shoulder.

Ikki timidly approached him the other night, asking if she could spend Friday night and Saturday at her friend Jinora’s house. They had an output required of them of the big sister-little sister program. Tenzin was actually unclear as to what is the specific output that the girls had decided on but it did require a large-scale printer and a laminating machine.

Jinora attempted to explain to him what they were going to do during the last week that they were in his house but he felt out of his depth so he had nodded and let them work on what they needed to.

The father had met Jinora several times already in the past months so he knew the child was in earnest that their intent for the overnight activity would be mainly to finish a project. He also realized (well, Bumi made him realize) that Ikki was old enough for a sleepover (and Pema’s overprotectiveness would be to the detriment of their kids’ development). Additionally, he thought grimly, it would also keep Meelo from wreaking havoc on the work area of the girls.

Nonetheless, he took up Jinora’s mom’s offer to meet up for snacks before she takes the kids home. This would give him a chance to meet the mom, discuss some ground rules and as well thank the mom privately for letting Jinora help Ikki come out of her shell during her first months in Republic City Primary. Jinora did say that her pa and mom used to do the same before she spends the night over at her other friends – the parents meet up, share a small meal, get to know each other. Tenzin thought this was a good parenting tactic; it would definitely assuage his fears as well.

But now, said mom was late.

Jinora had hurried to them, dragging with her a large cartolina and illustration board. She explained that her mom’s work meeting overran and if it would be okay if she rode with them? Her mom will be meeting them at the local diner instead, so they don’t get caught up in traffic.

Tenzin could feel his impatience growing.

So far, this woman was not making a good impression on him.

How on earth she produced a lovely daughter like Jinora was beyond him.

---

Lin, Narook’s

Damn Sato, Lin ground her teeth as she finally parked her car into the last parking space in front of Narook’s. Of all the days for a meeting to go over time, it has to be today when she had explicitly asked to leave early to fetch her daughter.

Jinora had provided her enough context to know that making a good impression with Ikki’s dad was important to her daughter.

Lin heard that the dad was some big shot divorced corporate guy, who, she thought, was a bit paranoid about his kids’ safety.

Lin acted as an arts club moderator so she was regularly present at the Republic City High, which gave her chances to meet Ikki whenever she drops by the primary school to fetch Jinora.

The girl was a sweet child – energetic and delightful once she felt comfortable enough with you. It had come to her attention, in the short conversations with the kid, that she was not allowed to go out and play with other kids in their old neighborhood so she was very much excited to have a new friend outside of her class and her family.

When Jinora mentioned their culminating project and their dilemma on the timeline and materials, Lin suggested that they take the project home to work on.

The crestfallen expression of Ikki as she stated that her dad would not allow her pushed Lin to share that she’s willing to talk to the dad to help convince him to give his permission.

The infectious smile that burst on Ikki’s face was enough to convince Lin that she made the right decision.

Now, however, as she entered the diner, spotting her daughter at the corner booth, she froze and started to doubt all her life decisions that led to this moment.

Wondering and questioning the universe what had she done in her past life for her to deserve this.

Across Jinora, beside the talkative Ikki, sat Tenzin – her former boyfriend and Jinora’s father.

---

Note: Soooo hmmmmmm. What do you think?

#linzin #linzin fanfic #legend of korra #lin beifong #tenzin #jinora #ikki #mako #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina wip

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12timetraveler · 3 years

Text

Mysterious Woman

So I got to write for not one, but two secret santas this year and I had a blast writing them.

This piece is for @smithandrogers, featuring their OC Elaine North and F!reader. (I hope this is what you meant when you asked for Elaine content)

I had a lot of fun researching Elaine (reading their story) and I really loved writing this.

@rdr-secret-santa

You’d been awestruck the moment you first saw her after John had brought her back to camp, only for her to run and be dragged back by Arthur. Even dirty, tired, and mussed up, she was still beautiful. Dark black hair and tan skin that, to you, looked like amber as the light of the campfire glowed over her skin. A scar over her eye that only made her more beautiful and mysterious. Elaine drew the attention of everyone who saw her, man or woman.

As the days had gone on, Elain almost grew more mysterious, not less. Apparently she spoke practically every language in existence, was part of some organization, or rather she used to be but now was on the run. She talked often about her travels, places you’d heard of but honestly had kind of believed were make-believe. She had a sword for gods sake. This woman was something you’d never seen before, and you were smitten.

Neither Arthur nor John had kept quiet in their praises of her fighting skills. The fact that they even admitted that they were pretty much useless compared to them only furthered the mystery of the woman.

You had it bad for her, you knew. Numerous times one of the other girls had caught you staring at her from across the camp. If only they knew how many times you’d caught yourself doing it and looked away before anyone else noticed.

Your infatuation was only made worse by her present. She’d brought something back from Saint Denis for all the girls. You’d simply asked for a new hat, seeing as yours was falling apart. You expected just a simple straw hat of some kind. You were speechless when you saw what she’d gotten you.

The hat was beautiful, wide brimmed to keep the sun off your face, but not massive like the ladies of the big cities would wear. You weren’t sure of the style. Maybe gambler or cutter or... well you didn’t know hats well enough to know the style. But it was suitable for your lifestyle, good for working and riding. Tucked in the band around it was a small accessory. You recognized the handy work of the local trapper. Not only had she bought you a hat, but she’d gone and bought you a beautiful hat accessory as well.

“I knew that would compliment your lovely face,” She said, smiling as you reverently put the hat on your head. It fit perfectly. You felt yourself flush, and you smiled at her, still unable to form words. The two of you stood there in silence as you gaped, trying to form some sort of words.

“Come on now,” Abigail said in a motherly voice, barely hiding her amusement. “What do we say when someone does something nice for you?” She encouraged. The other girls giggled.

“Th-thank you, Miss North,” You stammered. Elaine gave you a beautiful smile, and you thought you might faint.

“You’re welcome,” She said. “But please, I’ve told you, call me Elaine.”

“R-right. Thank you, Elaine.” You said, fingering the brim of your hat. Elaine smiled. As she turned to leave, to hand out the rest of her presents from Saint Denis, her fingers brushed against yours.

Wait... could she... did she like you too? She had gone to all this extra trouble for you after all. Yes, she bought others gifts. But it seemed she’d gone out of her way to get you something you’d treasure. And that smile she’d given you... and the way her fingers brushed yours...

No. It had to be wishful thinking. Elaine was beautiful and mysterious and strong and intelligent. She’d never go for some country outlaw girl like you. Not when she could have any man in the world at her beck and call.

But still, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, she put a little more thought into your gift than the other ladies. The rest of the day you couldn’t get her out of your mind as you scrubbed Sean’s suspiciously stained undergarments.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, you miraculously found yourself with some free time on your hands. There weren’t many chores that needed doing, and even Mrs. Grimshaw had to admit that she was just giving you busy work at this point. She eventually relented and gave you ladies the rest of the day to yourselves.

The other girls had convinced John and Lenny to accompany them and Jack into town for a day out of camp. You’d elected to stay behind, more than ready to just have a peaceful, lazy day. You lounged under a tree, watching the clouds above and fiddling with grass, straw, dandelions, whatever your fingers idly found.

It was nice to let your mind just turn off and watch the clouds roll by, day dreaming about a peaceful life for you all, where you could stay free, but maybe find a more legal way to do so. Dutch always talked of such grand plans. You hoped whatever they involved, you could one day get off of laundry duty. You’d run away from home to avoid becoming a housewife, but you sure as shit felt like one most days.

Maybe you could raise horses, train them, show them. Or maybe you’d have a little garden, growing herbs galore. Maybe you’d tan pelts and sell them. You weren’t sure. You had a sinking suspicion that if you all did manage to find your little quiet corner of the world, you’d likely end up in the kitchen cooking like you were now. But it was nice to imagine at least.

You were pulled from your daydreams by your name being called from across camp. You propped yourself up on your elbows, and your heart stopped when you saw Elaine striding toward you, her high-waisted trousers making her legs look deliciously long, an elegant, confident sway to her hips...

“You busy?” She asked as she approached. You shook your head.

“We got all our chores done early today. Most of the others went off into town but I decided to stay behind and relax,” You said.

“Would you like to go out riding with me?” She asked. You glanced around, wondering where Arthur was. He was usually the one to go riding with her. You saw him sitting in his tent. Why wasn’t she asking him? You pulled your attention back to Elaine, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Sure,” You said, putting your hat back on and pulling yourself to your feet, brushing your skirt off. “We going on a job or somethin’ like that?”

“Something like that,” She said vaguely, smiling at you. “Come on. Saddle up.” She said. You paused.

“Oh...” You hesitated. “I don’t have a horse,” You said quietly. Your horse had been your best friend for some years now. But you’d loaned him to Jenny for the Blackwater heist, and he’d died when she had. You hadn’t had the money, nor the heart to replace him.

“I’m sorry,” Elaine said gently, clearly reading your somber expression. You shook it off, giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“It was just a horse,” You tried to brush it off, though you could see Elaine didn’t buy into it. “I’ll see if I can borrow someone else's.”

“Why don’t you just ride with me?” Elaine suggested. “Ontario’s certainly big enough to carry both of us.” She pointed out. You smiled and nodded.

“Okay,” you said, mood lightening some at the prospect of riding with Elaine, arms wrapped around her waist, pressed up against her strong back...

“Come on then,” She said. The two of you walked side-by-side to where Ontario was grazing alongside the other horses. He whickered when he saw the two of you approaching. You’d seen him be stubborn, but you knew he was just a big softy. You pulled out a sugar cube from your satchel and fed it to him. He whuffed over your hand in gratitude.

Elaine launched herself into the saddle, then steered Ontario up alongside a rock, so that you could pull yourself onto his rear. Once you were settled on his rump, hands resting respectfully on Elaine’s waist (despite you wanting to wrap them around her tightly,) Elaine pushed Ontario into a smooth canter out of camp.

The two of you followed the trail down towards the river. Elaine took a left, following the river toward the lake. The two of you rode in friendly silence for a little ways, just enjoying the sounds of nature.

“So, what’s this job?” You asked as you rounded a corner and the lake came into view.

“Oh, I never said there was a job,” Elaine teased. “You inferred that on your own. I simply asked if you wanted to go out on a ride with me.”

“Then what are we doing out here?” You asked, a slight laugh in your voice.

“What, I can’t just want to spend time with a pretty lady?” Elaine flirted back. You breath caught in your throat. Before you could respond, a harsh laugh caught your attention. Ahead of you, a wagon lay blocking the trail. Two men in green bandanas stood on either side of it. O’Driscolls.

“Lookie here, gents,” One of the men laughed, “A couple of wee mouses. Now we can have some fun,” His Irish accent made the words sound pretty, but the meaning sent shivers up your spine. You glanced to your left, then your right. More O’Driscolls on either side. You were surrounded.

“Off the horse, ladies,” Another man called, waving his gun at you. Elaine turned her head to look at you and nodded. You trusted her. If she was half as good as John and Arthur said she was, you weren’t in any danger. You weren’t exactly damsel in distress material either.

You slowly slipped off the horse, allowing yourself to stumble and fall to one knee. You quickly pulled your secret weapon from your boot, hiding up your coat sleeve without anyone noticing. The nearest O’Driscoll grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, holding you close to stop you from getting away. He reeked of shitty moonshine and body odor, and you had to stop yourself from gagging.

“Hey, I know who you are,” One of the O’Driscolls called as Elaine dismounted. “You’re that Van der Linde girl everyone’s kickin’ such a fuss up over.”

“You’re a Van der Linde mouse, huh?” The man crooned in your ear. “Well that means we can have some extra fun.” He murmured.

“What can I do for you Gentlemen?” Elaine asked. She glanced around. “And I use that term lightly.” The man who seemed to be in charge barked a laugh.

“You think you’re in any position to be making smart-ass remarks?” He asked, “‘specially when Seamus is becoming so... familiar with your friend there?” The man holding you had wrapped an arm around your middle and was sniffing your hair. Elaine’s expression darkened when she saw that. You gave her what you hoped was a reassuring look. You could stand men being creepy for a minute, so long as she got you both out of this alive. Elaine seemed to get the message.

“That’s better, little mouse,” The man sneered, stepping toward Elaine. “Wouldn’t want your friend to get hurt now, would you? You see, Colm wants you brought to him. Dead or alive he doesn’t really care. But he has no interest in one of Van der Linde’s whores. Your friend could go with minimal damage.” the man holding you chuckled in your ear, and you grit your teeth. Yeah. Minimal damage. You sincerely doubted it.

“So...” Elaine hesitated. “I go with you, and she walks free?” she asked.

“Free as a bird. She can flit back to Dutch and his boys, ready to whore another day.” He said. Elaine turned back to look at you, eyes narrowing slightly. You nodded ever so slightly. You were both ready to jump into action. You were just waiting for her move.

“Well, how can I refuse such an offer?” Elaine asked, stepping toward the man. He grinned and reached for her hand. She grabbed his wrist and swung him down into the dirt. You heard his nose crack as it broke, and he went limp as he fell unconscious immediately.

You spun in your captors grasp, knife slipping from your sleeve into your hand. You lifted your arm and brought the knife down on the mans neck, twisting to make sure you hit your target. You were greeted with a stream of blood when you removed your knife. Perfect.

You sprinted into the trees, knowing that armed with only knives, you were a sitting duck if you couldn’t get something to cover your back. You slid in the dirt, back slamming against a large boulder as you turned to face the road.

The O’Driscolls had recovered from their original shock, and were engaged in a firefight with Elaine, who had ducked behind the wagon that was blocking the road. You pulled a throwing knife from your other boot and with a flick of your wrist, downed one of the O’Driscolls. You may not be the best gunslinger in the world, but you were damn good with your knives. You downed two more before something tackled you from the left, pinning you to the forest floor.

Another slimy O’Driscoll towered over you, holding you down. You squirmed underneath him, trying desperately to throw off his balance, but he stayed steady, holding you firmly in place. You didn’t like the way he was grinning at you one bit, and the hand that was holding your shoulder came to your neck, fingers ready to squeeze.

With a scream of rage you brought your knife up, stabbing blindly. Your arm jarred as your knife stopped suddenly, knife getting stuck in one of the man’s ribs. He let out a cry of pain, but didn’t let you go, resting his weight on your neck. You coughed and gasped as you felt your airway beginning to constrict, but before he could start to do any real damage, he collapsed on top of you.

You lay beneath the man, panting, unsure of what had happened. You were aware of warm blood trickling over your shoulder. It was then that you caught a glimpse of the bullet wound on the side of his head. Someone’d shot him.

With a grunt, you rolled him off of you, sitting up. You could still hear at least two gunshots, so Elaine was still fighting with some of the O’Driscolls, but you didn’t doubt it was her who’d saved your life, though you couldn’t quite spot her or the assailants.

You grabbed your knife and tugged, finally pulling it free from where it was stuck in the man’s ribs before ducking behind a tree. You saw one of the O’Driscolls that was fighting Elaine perched behind a crate, facing away from you, toward the wagon. Grabbing your last throwing knife, you tossed it at his head, hitting your mark perfectly.

There was one last shot from Elaine, then silence. You waited, still behind that tree. But it seemed the fighting was over. You heard Elaine call your name, and you breathed a sigh of relief that she was okay.

“I’m here. I’m okay,” you called, stepping out from behind the tree. You located the three men who had died by your throwing knives and retrieved them. Elaine came around the side of the wagon. Her face paled as she took in your appearance, and she hurried over to you.

“Oh my god, where are you hurt?” She asked worriedly, looking you over. You glanced down at your blood-soaked dress.

“Oh. It’s not mine,” You assured her. “I’m fine. Just some scrapes and bruises.” Elaine bit her lip, not quite looking convinced.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here and get cleaned up.” She suggested, whistling for Ontario. She pushed you up onto his rump before climbing up in front of you and galloping away.

~~~~~~~~~~~

You rode down to the lakeside, hidden from the road by the trees. Elaine had dragged you out into the water, helping you scrub away the blood. As it washed away, it became clear that you were right, and none of the blood was yours. Elaine seemed to deflate with relief. You felt a warm feeling your stomach at the thought that she’d been so worried for you.

Once you’d washed the blood from your skin, and as much as you could from your dress, the two of you had gone to shore to dry off. You carefully cleaned your knife as you did.

"Where'd you get that?" Elaine asked, looking at the knife in your hands.

"Family heirloom. Supposed to go to my brother but I stole it when I left home."

"No, I mean where were you hiding it?"

"Oh. My boot." You said, drying it off and lifting the hem of your skirt. Tucked into your boot was a little sheath for the dagger. You slipped it back in. "I've got some throwing knives in the other boot," you said, turning and showing her the bundle of throwing knives. "And a hunting knife in my garter." You added, lifting up your skirt to show Elaine the holstered hunting knife tucked into your garter. Elaine whistled.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you?" She chuckled. You felt your face heat up. You shrugged, quickly looking away to hide your blush.

"Guess I learned a few times, better to keep armed than be caught without." You chuckled. You glanced over at Elaine to find her staring at you. “What, you thought I’d run with the infamous Van der Linde gang and not know how to fight?” You laughed. She shook her head.

“No. I knew you all likely had secret strengths like that,” She said. “I’m just glad I got to witness you in action.” She said. “You’re really good with your knives. I saw you down those men.”

“Well, that one man would have had me if you hadn’t shot him,” You said, fiddling with your skirt, unused to praise. “Thanks for that, by the way. I’d probably be dead if it weren’t for you.” She was quiet for a moment.

“Well we can’t have that,” She said. You jumped in surprise, but didn’t pull away when you felt her fingers come up to your cheek, pushing a stray hair out of your face. You glanced over at her, giving her a shy smile. She grinned back, tilting her head slightly to admire you better.

“N-no I suppose not,” You stammered. “I very much enjoy being alive.” What the hell were you even saying?! How did this woman turn you to mush so quickly. With her... muscular arms and warm eyes and plump lips. Lips that were slowly moving closer to yours. Or were yours moving closer to hers?

You sucked in a breath through your nose as your lips met hers, automatically melting into the kiss. You weren’t entirely sure you weren’t dreaming, or dead and in heaven, but you weren’t going to question it, or ruin it. You were here, on the beach with Elaine, looking over the lake as the sun touched the mountains to your right.

Elaine’s hand came up to cup your face, and you scooted closer, fingers carding through her beautiful dark hair as you leaned closer, kissing her more eagerly, sloppily. Elaine’s lips kept a calm pace, gently reining you in some, and the kiss once again returned to something sweet and soft.

Elaine was a mysterious woman, that was for sure. But when she kissed you, one mystery became perfectly clear. Elaine North was just as sweet on you as you were on her. And fuck if that didn’t feel good.

#rdr secret Santa 2020 #Elaine North #Elaine/f!reader #Secret santa #Smithandrogers

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exorcisms-and-sigils · 4 years

Text

Chris Halliwell x OC imagine: Ashthorn (part 1/4)

(Set in mid 2025.

trope: the entire family knows about their feelings for each other, but the both of them don’t dare to act on it.

power/s: sass...?)

The demon sorceress Astros targets Melinda in a time of self-doubt, and PJ in a time of self-loathing, in an attempt to cripple the power of the next generation. She did not consider Valerie Ashthorn, The Expert on the Matter and their childhood friend.

Valerie rang the doorbell, and her heart raced even faster. She breathed deeply, and thought about what she was going to say. Melinda's 18th was two weeks ago, so she must have moved out. If she's lucky and the twins are here, they'd be loud when they see her, and save her from introducing (or reintroducing) herself.

The door opened to reveal a pleasant-faced young man. "Hi."

Valerie smiled, resigning herself to social interaction. "Hi... I'm looking for Wyatt Halliwell. Has he visited this house recently?"

He chuckled like she said something funny. "Yes, I have. How can I help you?"

"Wow..." And so, there was no such thing as something she planned to say. There's only this older, good-looking guy in the shoes of one of her greatest friends. "I-I mean, my name is Valerie Ashthorn. We last saw each other—nevermind. I'm moving into my folks' old house across the street. I figured seeing if you still remember me, it won't—"

She had turned her head to face the house, so dull and plain compared to the Halliwell Manor, and couldn't brace herself for the weight that crashed against her body.

Wyatt hugged her and exclaimed, "Ree! Oh my goodness, that's why you looked so familiar!"

He pulled away, grinning. "Wow! You're a sight for sore eyes... Or maybe Chris's eyes."

She smacked his arm, ignoring how built he felt beneath her hand. "Ten seconds! You can't even last ten seconds without being an asshole!"

"You can't even last one without blushing." he smirked. "Please, come in."

It took all of Valerie's willpower to keep from being choked up at how familiar the walls and furniture and windows and floors looked, as if the house itself was alive and welcoming her back home. She put her bag aside, letting Wyatt place an arm around her shoulder as she slung one around his waist. This has always been home, no matter the mind-reading evil beings that tried to destroy her memory of it over the years.

Wyatt led them to the living room with a contented sigh. The memories continue to flood back, and would've barreled into Valerie if she hadn't seen the frowns on Aunt Piper's, Uncle Leo's, and Uncle Coop's faces before they perked up at the sight of her.

She and Wyatt pulled away from each other. "I'm back. Demons?"

Piper rose from the couch and wrapped her arms around her. Please don't cry, Valerie told herself. "Valerie, hi. It's so good to see you... no, not demons. You know we're never that lucky."

Despite how deeply they frowned, they were alright. It was Melinda and PJ who were at risk.

Leo asked her. "What do you know about the empousai?"

"I know enough to vanquish them."

"Nobody's vanquishing anyone." Coop muttered, his ring stark against the dark expression on his face. "That's not an option."

"It is for the one who turned PJ, Coop." Leo stated, before turning back towards Valerie. "And the one who's going to turn Melinda.”

"... Premonition." Valerie guessed. She received nods.

An inhuman growl sounded from the sunroom, low and guttural. One second, Valerie was frozen, surprised.

The next, she was bolting across the room, ignoring Wyatt's warnings, as well as the force field he placed around her.

Not three steps into the sunroom and a jet of white fluid shot across the room. She threw her hands upward with a yelp as the fluid hit the force field, redirecting it upwards into an LED light above her head and cracking it.

Wyatt and the others caught up. His eyes were wide and alert, darting between her and the partly-turned empousai on the floor, inside a ring of crystals and a pink force field.

The disheveled brown hair and tattered clothes screamed that it was PJ, when the three legs — all different from each other — and the wholly red eyes watching her every move said it was an empousa in the middle of transformation.

"Are you okay? That thing she spits didn't get you?"

Valerie pointed to the broken LED light overhead, with bits and pieces that were still falling and bouncing against Wyatt's force field. Her attention remained on PJ; one of her legs was a cat's with its claws out, the other a horse's or goat's hoof that she kept stomping the ground with, and the third a thing of pure copper that was shaped like a human leg. Patches of her skin were different tones, indicating either she tried to shapeshift, or the ability is being opened to her.

PJ snarled, revealing cracked, unused canines, and Valerie cocked an offended black eyebrow. "You got the aesthetic, at least."

Coop gave her a dirty look, even as he stepped up to her side. "We had to use my power to make the force field, hope that through the heritage I passed down, we could reach her. We already tried appealing to her witch side."

"Is everyone accounted for?"

"Yes." Piper answered. "Your Aunt Phoebe is with Peyton and Parker, and Uncle Henry is on leave, so he's with Aunt Paige and the kids."

Wyatt added, crossing his arms over his chest. "Chris went alone to look for Melinda, get her back here before she can fully turn. Ideally."

Valerie made a double take, blinking at him. "Empousai seduce. Why is he alone?"

"... Seduce?" a smirk slowly spread across his face. "I wouldn't be too worried. The only one that can get him to do anything through seduction is you."

Valerie's ears warmed. At the corner of her eye, she noticed the adults, even Uncle Coop, trying to hide their smiles. She massaged her neck, the quickest way to make Wyatt understand how annoying he was being. "I went back in time before and encountered empousai. When I was in Greece, three dozen of them attacked Epirus."

PJ snarled at her when she looked. Valerie was half-inclined to snarl back. "I brought journals and books with me in the car and the house. I'll see if I can find anything."

"I'll help." Wyatt hopped on his feet, following her out the door after Piper nodded in reply.

"Promise not to be a dick."

He put one hand in the air, and the other on his chest, as if he were vowing. Then he made a funny face. "Not entirely, anyway."

Valerie guffawed. "Already more than I expect."

The magma pool burned far, far below Chris, but he could still feel the heat on his face. The empousa he'd been interrogating whimpered at the sight of the stone cuffs around its wrists, its five different legs dangling uselessly in mid-air. Chris clenched his jaw against the knot forming in his temple, and removed another small piece of rock from the cuffs.

"Wait, wait! You won't even ask me what they want with those girls first?"

"Frankly, I don't have time. Now again, what sent the empousai?"

The empousa's lips pulled back in a snarl, just like the one Melinda had given Chris when he last saw her. "The empousai send themselves...!"

"Is that what your pack leader said when he agreed to work with wraiths?"

"We will annihilate their kind after we're done with you!" it yelled, the sound echoing through the few entryways dug throughout Purgatory.

"Scary." Chris drawled. The wraiths were always a sore topic. "Empousai answer to their pack leaders, and those are decided from how quickly they turn victims. What asked for your help?"

The empousa drew its vicious lips into a line, refusing to answer. Chris flicked his wrist, and a larger chunk of the cuffs broke off, falling into the fire below. The empousa's feet writhed and clicked against each other in a panic. Without something to stand on, these beasts would be out of their comfort zone, and suddenly become the most cowardly of the new generation of evil. Only the sight of his theory being proven true kept Chris's headache at bay.

"Astros! Astros! She called herself Astros!"

He blinked, trying to recall where he encountered the name. Then he removed the entire stone from the empousa's right wrist. The headache pounded more with the empousa still trying to get into his head.

"She would have excelled if she were one of us! The wraiths will let her skills go to waste, but she will thrive with us..." it glared at the single piece of rock keeping it from both death and the nearby surface that led to safety. "after she exploits the power of your family."

The simultaneous sound of multiple, different footsteps came from the tunnels on its side. Chris watched the fear sink into its horrible, pale face before he tugged at the stone cuff. "The wraiths say the same thing."

Its eyes were wide with rage and self-absorbed disbelief. Chris shrugged. "Or something close enough anyway. From what I've read about your kind, you're cannibals, if motivated correctly."

He removed the cuffs from its wrist after all its feet hit solid ground, and then orbed home. "Must be painful."

#chris halliwell #charmed #chris perry #chris halliwell imagine #chris halliwell oneshot #charmed imagine #charmed oneshot #charmed wb #empousai #wraith #halliwell cousins #halliwell sisters #charmed chris halliwell #charmed chris

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storyofmychoices · 4 years

Text

Plan B: Once a thief...

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Masterlist] [Mal’s Orphanage Series]

Characters: Mal Volari, Daenarya (F!MC, human), Rayden (OC), Lydo (OC), Vayne (OC); Threep, Loola

Warnings: brief allusion to child endangerment; some violence (adult/adult)

Setting: Mal tried to rescue Lydo through negotiation; Vayne, the leader of the Thieves Guild said no. This is Plan B.

This follows Welcome Home

(This is the fifth part of Rayden & Lydo’s story.)

Synopsis: After failing to rescue Lydo, Mal regroups and comes up with a new plan. With the help of Daenarya, Threep, and Loola, can he succeed?

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Wait!” Threep scoffed, holding his paw over his chest, feigning offense. “You invited me as… a distraction… As if I were bait?”

Mal pretended to consider it a moment longer, his fingers stroking his beard. “Yup! You’re really only here because we need your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Threep puffed out his chest. “And, I’ll have you know I—”

Mal cut him off. “Your girlfriend has ice magic, Daenarya has light magic, and I’m a legendary outlaw and hero who knows that complex better than anyone else. Remind me again what you do beside deliver mail.” He chuckled to himself, “drink milk?”

“Why you!” Threep hissed, the fur on his back standing up, his claws extending, ready to pounce.

“KITTY!” Rayden popped in the room, rushing toward the nesper.

Threep tried to move away from the child, but Rayden scooped him up, pulling him closer. “Hey, watch it!”

The light glistened off of Rayden’s widened eyes as his mouth fell open. “You can talk?”

“Of course! I’m a nesper, an ancient being of noble ancestry that should be worshiped and—oh, that feels quite nice. Oh!”

Rayden scratched between Threep’s ears as the nesper’s eyes closed stretching into the child’s warm embrace. “Cute magic kitty!”

“I am quite adorable!” Threep nestled further against Rayden enjoying his pets, blocking out the Rogue’s deep guffaw.

“Can we keep him?” The boy turned to Daenarya hugging Threep snuggly.

She knelt beside him. “He’s not a pet, sweetheart. He is a special creature who deserves to be free.”

Rayden’s lip quivered slightly as he looked down at his new friend. “But I love him.”

“I know.” She caressed his cheek. “I’m sure Threep will come to visit some times, won’t you?”

The nesper purred contentedly, “It would be my honor.”

“Oh, great! You mean we have to see more of the mangy cat?” Mal scoffed.

Daenarya shot him a look, before turning her attention back to the child. “Rayden, we need Threep to go rescue your brother. So, I’m going to need you to put him down.”

“Aww,” the boy and the nesper whined almost simultaneously.

“Oh, Threep. Have a little respect for yourself,” Loola rubbed her paw over her eyes.

“Let him stay,” Mal shrugged. “We can do without him. Besides, babysitting sounds far more his speed.”

“Threep, what do you want to do?” Daenarya questioned.

“I’ll go where I’m appreciated. Since that is not with you lot, I’ll stay with the boy!” Threep shifted under Rayden’s touch. “A little to the left. Right there. Ahhh.”

“Be careful! And, don’t let him leave the house,” Daenarya instructed.

“I think we will manage just fine,” Threep purred, looking up to Rayden. “Got any cream cakes?”

“Loads!” Rayden nodded, carrying his new favorite friend off to the kitchen.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The dim light they carried flickered against the rough, stone walls of the underground tunnel. The path turned and curled deeper into darkness, the cold of the earth prickling at their skin. Daenarya shuddered, her heart beating faster with each step they took. It wasn’t as though this was their first adventure, but they had been so focused on fixing up the orphanage, that adventuring sort of fell away. Her stomach tightened, hoping this plan would be enough, she couldn’t bear the thought of going home without Lydo, Rayden would never understand. He had already set aside some of his things for his brother. A smile crept across her face, hidden by the shadows. She hadn’t known Rayden long, but she loved him dearly.

“Okay, this is it.” Mal held up his hand.

Loola fluttered softly landing on his shoulder.

“Remember the plan. You find Lydo and bring him back here. Loola and I will buy you as much time as we can. You got this, Kit,” he reassured her, before turning out their only source of light. “Meet back here in 10 minutes!”

“Mal?” Daenarya questioned, stopping him for a moment. Despite the darkness, her lips found his softly, her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck. “Please, be careful.”

“Always,” he brushed a kiss on her forehead before turning away. The old latch on the door creaked and clanked, the noise echoing through the abandoned tunnel behind them. “Good luck!”

The door opened into a small room, stuffed with what could only be described as junk. They had to shove it, pushing away a pile of broken furniture, to even make enough space for them to slip in.

As they reached the next door, Mal motioned Daenarya to the left, as he and Loola turned right.

Daenarya took calculated steps, careful as she turned corners, staying close to the wall in the unfamiliar space. She had memorized the directions Mal had given her, now she just had to hope the kids still stayed in the same room they did ten years ago.

“Vayne! I know you’re here.” Mal called, as he made his way through the building. He opened any door he passed by giving him multiple escape routes for his retreat, or at least, letting them think he could be in any one of them. It would buy him a little time. There was actually only one room he needed to make a quick detour to.

His voice grew louder and more urgent. “VAYNE! Come out and fight, old man.”

Loola fluttered safely above the Rogue, near the high ceilings, keeping watch and ready for his signal.

The heavy footsteps of guards from all over the compound headed in their direction, exactly where he wanted them.

“Come and get me.” Mal challenged, his fingers already flirting with the hilt of his daggers, ready for whatever awaited him.

Daenarya drew in a sharp breath ducking into an alcove as a guard rushed by. She counted to three, steadying herself. She was starting to wish she hadn’t agreed to let Threep stay behind. She wasn’t used to not having back up.

Swiftly, she swept through the long corridor peering in each open room, to make sure it was safe before proceeding. She found the place she was looking for near the end.

The large room revealed more than a dozen children sitting or lying around the room on scattered piles of dingy blankets and pillows. All of the children darkened with dirt, faces worn and tired, desperately needing more than they were getting. They quickly averted their gaze from the stranger, moving closer together for safety.

“Lydo. Lydo?”

A boy with the same shaggy dark hair as his brother caught her attention. From Rayden’s description, she expected the boy to be closer to twelve or thirteen, this child was less than ten, possibly only a year or two older than his brother. She knelt beside him. “Are you Lydo?”

He quivered, shifting away from her. “Yes.”

She held out her hand to him. “I’m here to get you out of here.”

“I can’t,” he cried, his eyes welling up in fear. “They have my brother. They said if I left, they’d kill him.”

“Rayden? He’s safe. Come with me and I’ll take you to him.”

“They said you’d say that. They said they’d kill him,” he whimpered. “He’s all I have. I won’t let them hurt him.”

Daenarya could easily grab the child and carry him out, but that would risk causing a scene. Her fingers tapped nervously at her side as she thought of a way to convince Lydo of the truth. “When it rains and there’s thunder, you sing a song to make it less scary for Rayden.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told me.” Daenarya held out her hand again. “I promise, if you come with me right now, I will take you to him.”

“Is he okay?” His face lightened, as he breathed fully probably for the first time since being taken all those weeks ago.

“Yeah.” She took his hand. “He just misses his brother.”

“What about the rest of them?” Lydo questioned, his gaze shifting to the other children, who still turned away from them, knowing the punishment for trying to escape.

A tear fell from her eye, knowing that the hard choice was the right choice. For now, they were safer there. It wasn’t a good life, but Mal had always said it was better than living and dying alone on the streets. “We’ll come back for them. I promise. We don’t have enough time or resources right now.”

She took his hand and guided him through the compound heading back to their meeting spot.

“Now then.” Mal quirked an eye and twirled his daggers, eyes trained on the two guards closest to him.

With a flick of his wrist, the smaller one sailed through the air behind him, landing with a thwack in the guard’s leg, causing him to fall on the spot. He lashed out quickly in front of him, the larger dagger clutched tightly in his fist, pierced the guard’s side between his armor; Mal immediately kicked his weapon away. As more guards headed his way, he let a few further blades shoot through the air, each one easily finding its target.

“LISTEN TO ME!” He whistled loudly to get their attention. “You and I are no different. I was where you are once. I served Vayne every day as you do. And what do you get for it? Huh? Nothing. He promises you a better life, but he takes everything you have. Look around. Is this what you want? I am proof that you can leave this place. There is a world out there waiting for you. Why serve a self-appointed king. Take a stand today, and be a pawn no longer. What do you say?”

The men looked at each other, their weapons holding steady toward him, but none advancing.

A slow clap echoed behind the guards as Vayne moved closer. “Nice try, Volari, these men will not accept your lies. Unlike you, they have loyalties. Now, I believe I made you a promise?”

“A promise to return the gold you took the other day?” He countered, reaching behind him to grab a bag of coins from his belt. “Because, I already helped myself to your treasury. You really think you’d change the location after the last time.”

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” The old man sneered. “Kill him.”

“Wait! Just one moment.” Mal held up his finger. “It looks like this bag of gold does not belong to me. I guess you’ll be wanting it back. He threw the bag into the air above the guards’ heads, gold coins showering around them. Each thinking the same thing. “NOW!”

As the guards clamored around the fallen coins, Loola’s eyes brightened, flashing white as the floor beneath the guards turned to ice.

“He’s getting away!” Vanye yelled. “After him.”

As Mal and Loola made their escape, they heard the cacophony of armor clashing against armor as the men slipped and fell over the ice. Loola left a few other patches of ice along the way, just in case any guards happened to make it off her skating rink.

“I can’t believe you got rid of the gold,” Loola marveled.

“As if I only took one bag,” Mal smirked.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Lydo barely got in the door before Rayden ran, jumping into his brother’s arms, almost knocking the frail boy over.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Rayden cried. His little arms wrapped tightly around his brother, refusing to let him go. “I was so scared.”

Lydo held his brother equally as close, his eyes swelling with tears. “I’m sorry, Rayden. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” Rayden sniffled into his brother’s shirt. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” Lydo breathed, burying his head in his brother’s hair. “I love you, Rayden. I’m so sorry.”

“I love you, too, Lydo!” Rayden smiled, happier than they had ever seen him.

Mal wrapped his arm around Daenarya as she held back tears of her own. She knew better than most the love of having a brother, and what being separated from them feels like. Luckily for both of them, they were reunited with their brothers.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Perma tags: @lilyoffandoms ; @raleighcarrera ; @mfackenthal ; @the-soot-sprite ; @virtuallytakenby ; @zeniamiii ; @kaavyaethanramsey; @choicesobsessed; @xjustin-ethansgirliex ; @caseyvalentineramsey; @trappedinfandoms; @anotherbeingsworld ; @tyrils-star

Blades Tags: @princess-geek ; @brightpinkpeppercorn ; @missameliep ; @mvalentine; @walkerswhiskeygirl ; @nyastarlight

#Mal Volari #Mal Volari x MC #Blades of Light & Shadow #Threep #Bolas #Loola #Mal x MC #fanfiction #daenarya #mal x daenarya #Rayden #Lydo #Vayne

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jabbajambler · 3 years

Text

PROLOGUE

Human

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 1,250

*GIF NOT MINE*

"I think it's time I return this."

The room was dim and empty except for the two women. One clad in armor and fur while the other stood in nothing more than a loose shirt, pants, and a pair of worn boots.

A fire crackled in the center of the large room. It was a soft, comforting sound that seeped through the chatter that filled the cavern. The smell of melted beskar in the large furnace masked the horrid stench of mold and something rotten.

It was the first time Myrah fully embraced these surroundings. She let the environment spill and flourish around her, filling her senses till she was dizzy.

"Myrah... You-"

"I know." The bare woman interjected, staring down at the red helmet in the others gloved hands. "I've betrayed the clan. You've been nothing but gracious and welcoming yet I tossed your traditions in the garbage."

"Not at all." She spoke calmly. "We are glad you're safe."

A relieved breath escaped Myrah while the corners of her mouth quirked into a grateful smile. "Vor entye." She whispered.

"Ba'gedet'ye. This is the Way."

"This is the Way."

Myrah spun and left the drab sewers, the helmets of every Mandalorian following her as she left. Everything she had known for the four years would remain down there. It was time to restart once again.

The bright sun peered into her eyes once she reached the clear and somewhat clean air, forcing her to squint. She held her hand over her eyes in an attempt to block the beaming rays while she glanced about the gray planet.

Nevarro was a relatively peaceful place. Even during the Galactic Empire's control, there was never too much chaos.

Much like her armored friends, its beauty was concealed by the desolate, gray appearance.

Weather was never awful, only a bit hazy when there was a nearby eruption. Of course, it was always foggy, but it usually covered up the blazing sun and kept a nice breeze through the volcanic terrain.

The people were sort of friendly. Everyone stuck to themselves and their family, never caring to be involved in someone else's business.

They had plenty of their own problems to deal with.

Most everyone was poor and did what they could to survive. Somehow, they found their own ways to enjoy life. For some, they found their happiness hunting for the bounty guild that resided on Nevarro.

Myrah tugged her hood over her head, keeping it low as she navigated through the crowded streets and alleys. Her dark brown hair managed to escape the low bun at the base of her neck, swarming her face and sticking to her damp skin.

She did a good job of hiding herself. To her, it was exhilarating to be free and have no one know who you are or where you're from.

She was young. Only twenty-three years old but her glimmering brown eyes told stories of tragedy, loss, and pain.

Being on the run was hard. She was always watching her back since she had no one else to do it for her. Even in the clan, they only looked after one another to a certain extent. Even if she had a partner, who knows if she could trust them.

Myrah was constantly on edge, glancing over her shoulder every other second. Someone always seemed to be hot on her trail no matter how much she hid. Even with a helmet and no sense of identity, there was a continuous game of cat and mouse.

Now that the Empire was gone, she didn't have to hide anymore. Even so, she never let her guard down.

Citizens of the planet stared at her while she walked past. She was quite an intriguing sight, not to mention a complete stranger to their lingering eyes.

Despite the diverse population, humans never tended to congregate on Nevarro. Those who did choose to live on the poverty-stricken planet were nothing like the woman that stood before them.

Myrah had this spark to her that no one could not quite comprehend. She radiated a rare, bright energy. A warm aura surrounded her and the people either loved it or hated it entirely.

She found herself at the entrance to a tucked away, quaint bar. She'd heard rumors about the people who gathered there. Each whisper drew her closer to it, desperately wanting to find out if what they said was true.

A local hangout to some, but to bounty hunters it was so much more. People of all kinds crowded the area, making back-alley deals and exchanging goods. Most importantly, the local bounty guild conducted business in the bar. That was what fascinated Myrah.

After a few moments of hesitation, she pushed through the door to reveal the dark room. She was shocked to find the space filled with aliens and humans alike, all talking and laughing with one another.

The clinking of glasses and the loud, joyous music filled her ears. It was obvious with her tense, strict posture that she was a bit overwhelmed. The place was nothing she expected. If it was indeed home to the Guild, they were all awfully friendly for a bunch of ruthless hunters.

"Ah! A newcomer!" A voice boomed from the back of the bar. Her eyes darted in the voice's direction, hiding behind the shadows of her hood. A dark skinned man sat in a booth and raised a half-empty glass in her direction. "Come sit!" He beckoned.

Myrah glanced around once more before she obliged to his request. She sat across from him, watching as the people continued carrying on their conversations. No one even stopped to see who the man was talking to. They were all stuck in their own world.

"I haven't seen you around here before. I'm Greef." His voice was deep and powerful. "What's your name, Kid?"

"Myrah. Koor." She spoke softly.

"Well, Myrah. What brings you to Nevarro?"

"A getaway."

"And just what are you hiding from?" He laughed. Even his laugh was jolly and filled the room with the rich sound. "Can't imagine someone so young getting in so much trouble that they can't show their face."

He gestured towards the hood that hid herself from any onlookers. The irony of his words brought a small smile to her lips.

"I'm afraid I can't disclose any more information."

He hummed. "Then perhaps I can offer you a job." He leaned forward with his arms crossed on the table. It was then that Myrah noticed the Guild symbol that decorated his chest.

"What is it?" Myrah perked up, her cold stare meeting his.

"I run the bounty guild around these parts." He spoke in a low whisper. "I can make sure you're safe while you're working with me."

"I need a place to stay."

"You can stay with me!" He bellowed. "There's no reason a kid should be sleeping on the streets. Come with me." He slid out of the booth and walked towards the door. He looked behind him to see that she was still sitting in her spot, blankly staring at the seat across from her. "Are you coming?"

Myrah hesitated, but nodded and followed after him. Her hand rested loosely at her side, fingers draping over the gray and gold hilt on her belt. It was dangerous to accept an offer from a stranger, but she was out of ideas.

Besides, maybe this is the beginning of something new and exciting; a fresh start.

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

Mando'a Translations

Vor entye - Thank you

Ba'gedet'ye - You're welcome

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #dyn jarren #jedi #oc #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #star wars #babyyoda

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justathoughtfulangel · 4 years

Text

The One That Got Away (Draco Malfoy Mini Series, Part Two)

Hellllooooo! Here is the second part of my Draco Malfoy Mini Series, The One. If you’d like to see more details about the series as a whole and a summary of this part or the parts to come, you can do so here. If you’d like to read more about my OC, Amara Grimaldi, you can do so here.

PLEASE read part one, The One Who was Lost, before you read this one. You can find it here.

Word count: 13, 254 (literally twice as long as part one, YIKES)

Please don’t hesitate to message me if you have any questions/comments/concerns or if you’d like to be tagged whenever I post a new part :)

Whenever you see “~~~”, I’m transitioning to a different scene. If you see “~” instead, we’re in the same scene but different characters are being shown.

If you have a hard time following the scenes, please use this scenes list as a resource.

Happy Reading!

Amara Grimaldi stood outside her home, wanting to take it in one last time. Everything was the same. The fountain flowed beautifully, birds chirped happily in the mornings, and her father, strong and unwavering, was always there to welcome her.

Ambrosi Grimaldi had watched his daughter grow in this house. It was here she discovered her passion for potion-brewing. It was here she took her first steps. It was here where he and his Lucianna had brought her after she was born. Grimaldi Manor is and always will be her home.

“I’ll see you at the wedding in a few days, Daddy.” Ambrosi smiled as much as he could and held his daughter close. Both of them knew the dangers they were in. Yet, if only for a moment, they were safe with each other.

Miles away, Harry Potter watched his cousin, aunt, and uncle drive away forever. Elsewhere, Ron Weasley stared out to the horizon, watching the setting sun. Meanwhile, Hermione Granger erased the memories of her parents, walking away from her home with just a small bag in her hand...

~~~

Amara had been braiding Gabrielle Delacour’s hair when she heard the unmistakable sound of someone apparating. “Excusez-moi, ma petite cherie.” Gabrielle nodded and smiled at Amara. “Merci beaucoup! Je peux finir seule, Amara.” Amara smiled back warmly, ducking to kiss the top of Gabrielle’s head before descending down the long, winding stairs of the Burrow.

“Herein is set forth the last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore…” Minister Scrimgeour released the parchment, letting it float near him as he read from it. “First, to Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, a device of my own making, in hope that when things seem most dark, it will show him the light.” Ron reached out hesitantly to take the Deluminator and clicked it once. Two orbs of light from the nearby lamps floated into it, and then returned once he clicked it again.

Amara smiled softly as Ron mumbled, “Wicked!” under his breath. Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow, but he continued. “To Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard in hopes that she finds it entertaining and instructive.” Hermione took the book, flipping through its pages once. Ron babbled about the stories in the book while Harry and Hermione looked baffled. Amara assumed Scrimgeour was getting impatient, and he was. “To Amara Lucianna Grimaldi, I leave my copy of Hogwarts: A History, in hopes that she finds solace in the knowledge it provides.”

Amara took the book gingerly. The book was immensely fragile with age and she took great care in opening the cover. Its contents were very different from the copy Amara owned; Dumbledore’s copy was certainly an earlier edition, perhaps one of the first to be written. “Lastly, to Harry James Potter, I leave him the Golden Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch game at Hogwarts as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.” Amara’s head snapped up from the book. She shared a look with Hermione as Harry reached out to accept the Snitch. Yet, when his fingers grasped the cool metal, nothing happened.

Amara was expecting Scrimgeour to bid them goodbye but found he had more to read. “Dumbledore has left you a second bequest, Mr. Potter, the sword of Gryffindor. However, the sword was not Dumbledore’s to give away. It belongs to-”

Hermione quickly interjected, “Harry. It belongs to Harry. He drew the sword from the hat in our second year. It came to him in his time of need.” Amara knew that didn’t make the sword Harry’s, and she would’ve said so had the Minister not beat her to the chase. In any case, Amara was thinking about why Dumbledore left Harry the sword.

Dumbledore did not do anything without reason. Everything they had received was given to them for a purpose; who received what item was equally important.

Amara was brought out from her thoughts when Scrimgeour tried to tell Harry to give up. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Mr. Potter, but you can’t fight this war on your own. He’s too strong.” Amara happened to be sitting closest to Harry and she placed her hand on his shoulder supportively. Harry had always known he would either win this war or die trying; he didn’t need a reminder of how difficult things would be.

~~~

For now, things were brighter. Bill and Fleur had a beautiful wedding. Laughter and smiles could be seen everywhere, despite the dark times. Amara’s hand went to her bag and she clutched it, knowing she had everything should she and her friends have to Disapparate without warning.

From the corner of his eyes, Ambrosi noticed his daughter’s fingers tightening anxiously around the handbag he bought her for her 15th birthday. His hand rested on top of hers gently. “Amara, everything is fine.” Amara took a deep breath and managed to smile up at her father. Worries still plagued her mind and Ambrosi could see them in her eyes, but he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Dance with me, sweetheart.”

This time, Amara beamed genuinely. Hermione happened to be nearby and took her bag from her, gesturing her head towards the dance floor which at the moment was occupied by Luna and her father as well as Fleur and Monsieur Delacour. Amara took her dad’s hand and still found peace in it. 17 years of life and her father’s hand was still the one she turned to for guidance. It was still what she needed to reassure her when everything seemed strange.

Ambrosi held his daughter close and danced with her slowly, fighting the tears welling in his eyes. When Amara noticed them, she very gently wiped one away. “Don’t cry, Dad. We’ll see each other soon.” Ambrosi smiled and kissed his girl’s forehead. “When did you get so big, my dear? I remember when I would waltz around with you in our living room. Now you’re about to run off and save our world. Before I know it, we’ll be at your wedding.” Amara’s life had seemed to drag on in her mind, but it was quite the opposite for her father. He hadn’t realized when she had transformed into a beautiful woman from his adorable little girl. Time had passed too quickly for his liking.

“I want you to keep this, angel.” Ambrosi’s hand slipped his heavy golden ring from his finger, placing it in her palm. It bore the crest of the Grimaldi family. “I know you have your own, but I want you to have this piece of me when you’re off with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Return it to me the next time you see me.” It was far too big for Amara to wear, so she closed her hand around it. “Thank you, Daddy.” She reached to unclasp the thin chain she always wore. That necklace had one of her mother’s rings hanging from it, and she slid the Grimaldi family ring onto it as well.

“This way, you and Mumma will always be close to my heart, no matter how far we are.” Ambrosi’s eyes twinkled as he hugged his daughter. “I’m so proud of you. I know your mother would be too. I love you with all my heart, Amara. Remember that, always.” Amara couldn’t find her voice, so she just nodded. Eventually, she was able to speak. “Please stay safe.” Ambrosi smoothed Amara’s hair soothingly and kept his voice calm and reassuring. “I will, dear, I will.”

Before anyone had the chance to say anything else, Kingsley’s Patronus ran right in between Amara and her father, who held her close as it spoke. “Scrimgeour is dead. The Ministry has fallen. They are coming.” Ambrosi gave his daughter one more kiss before letting her go. “Get out of here, Amara. We’ll hold them off.” Death Eaters began Apparating into the tent and Amara frantically looked for Hermione, Ron, and Harry. “I love you, Dad!”

Ron and Hermione finally reached Amara and Remus shoved Harry to them. Within seconds, they had vanished.

Draco thrummed his fingers against his sleek, mahogany desk. He opened the first drawer to his left, one that he kept locked. Within it was a picture of Draco and Amara from when they were 10, among other memories he wished to treasure alone.

The picture was bright and colorful; Little Amara’s smile shined through her eyes and Little Draco, even then, looked at the camera only momentarily before looking at her. Draco closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, he saw his Amara as she was now: kind, brave, loving, and still beautiful as ever.

He knew that she was likely at the Weasley wedding. In his cowardice, he was grateful that the Dark Lord didn’t force him to partake in the attack. Draco wouldn’t have been able to stand hurting Amara or those she cared about. He wanted Potter to win. He wanted all of this to be over.

Just as Draco went to put the picture away, he heard a woman scream downstairs. His first instinct was that the scream came from his mother. Leaving the picture on his desk, Draco Apparated down to his foyer to see his Aunt Bellatrix bleeding from her cheek as his mother hovered over her. Before he could sigh in relief at his mother being safe, he heard his aunt spit out curses and vow to kill every single member of the Order.

Draco closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. His thoughts found their way to Amara once more. Wherever they were, he hoped that she and her father stayed safe.

Up the stairs and through the door to Draco’s bedroom, Little Draco looked at Little Amara once more, his eyes gleaming with innocence and happiness. Draco hadn’t felt such joy in years, nor did he know if he ever would again.

~~~

A week or so had passed since they had run from the wedding. They had taken shelter at number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry was exploring the house, and Ron was playing Fur Elise rather badly as Hermione tried to teach him; Amara could hear it even though she was in the kitchen. They had nothing much to do until Kreacher came back with Mundungus Fletcher.

Amara spent most of her time flipping through Hogwarts: A History, simultaneously looking at her copy and the one Dumbledore left her. She wanted to find the difference between the two, needing to know why Dumbledore left her this copy specifically. There was something hidden in here that he wanted Amara to find. She had already found numerous details that weren’t in her edition, such as more details regarding Slytherin’s thoughts behind making and sealing the Chamber of Secrets or a cup that Helga Hufflepuff created which was likely one of the first utensils ever used in the Great Hall. They must have been edited out with time or deemed irrelevant.

Amara was about to give up for the night before she paused. This page was entirely blank. She knew the Ministry had thoroughly examined each object bestowed to them. Whatever was hidden on this page would not reveal itself by a spell. “Hermione!” Amara wracked her brain as the piano keys stopped ringing immediately and Hermione rushed into the kitchen. “What is it?”

She took a minute to respond, the wheels in her mind churning with determination. “You know the Ministry has searched all of the items Dumbledore left to us in his will?” Amara turned the book to show Ron and Hermione the blank page. “They were looking for enchantments, spells, etc. What if Dumbledore hid something on this page using a non-magical method?” Hermione’s eyes lit up in recognition and summoned a lemon, a knife, and some cotton swabs.

“That’s ingenious, Amara. If Dumbledore has hidden something on this page in a non-magical manner, it would most likely be invisible ink.” Hermione was slicing a lemon just as Harry walked in; Ron leaned over to fill him in quickly in the background. When Amara gently brushed the lemon juice over the page, everyone watched with bated breath.

Gasping softly, Amara saw the message appearing beneath her fingertips. Noticing how faint it was, Harry quickly cast Lumos, his wand hovering over the page. It wasn’t a message, it was a riddle. Hermione read it aloud as Amara finally moved away. The four of them stood around the table, reading Dumbledore’s handwriting as it gleamed up at them.

“For one destroyed, false security was the answer.

He first tried with a memory.

Then, he relied on his grandfather.

He craved excellence, wisdom, and victory.

He had one companion left

When he tried to escape his downfall, he left himself there.

In the end, there was only him.”

Ron groaned in frustration. “If he wanted to hide a message, why did it have to be another puzzle to solve?!” Amara said nothing, still reading and rereading Dumbledore’s message. Harry sighed as well, though he was the one who discerned why. “Dumbledore must have known they would search his things. If he felt the need to hide this specific riddle, it must be crucial information Dumbledore didn’t want in the wrong hands.”

They were interrupted with the resonating crack of Apparation, and Amara slammed the book closed, the words imprinted on her mind. Kreacher and Dobby appeared, dragging Mundungus Fletcher along. “Dobby?!” Dobby began explaining why he tagged along as everyone in the room cornered Mundungus. “Look, I panicked that night, alright’?! Could I help it if Mad-Eye fell off his broom?” Hermione dangled the locket in front of him as Harry shut him up quickly. “While you were here, did you steal a locket- don’t deny it!- that looked like that one? What did you do with it?”

“Why, was it valuable?” He had quite the audacity to ask such a question. “Do you still have it?” Amara chimed in, while Ron scoffed. “He’s probably worried he didn’t get enough money for it.” This time, Mundungus had the sense to look remorseful. “Bleedin’ gave it away, didn’t I? I was scuffling ‘round Diagon Alley when some Ministry hag asked to see me license. Said she had a mind to turn me in, ‘til she took a shine to my locket.”

“Who was she? This woman. What did she look like?” Mundungus began to respond once more until his eyes fell to an old copy of the Daily Prophet. “Well, that’s her right there. Bleedin’ bow and all!”

Amara grabbed the paper to set it on the table, and the four of them shared a look. Though the image was black and white, Amara could see the sickening pink of her suit. “Umbridge.”

~~~

The clothes of Marietta Edgecombe’s mother, Madame Edgecombe, were beginning to loosen around Amara’s body while Albert Runcorn’s face bubbled and morphed back into Harry’s. Realizing they had no time to waste, Amara stunned Umbridge and Hermione ripped the locket from her neck. Ron took Mary Cattermole along with them and they sprinted into the elevator before the Dementors got too close.

Harry cast the Patronus charm and they were immediately off. By then, the effects of the Polyjuice Potion had worn off for everyone besides Ron, and Amara was sure she’d seen a camera flash behind them. Ron spoke to Mary Cattermole, instructing her to take the kids and run. As she pulled her ‘husband’ into a kiss, Ron began morphing back into himself. He looked rather embarrassed, even more so when the real Reginald Cattermole saw his wife kissing a stranger.

“Long story, sorry!” They had no time to indulge this awkward moment. Yaxley shot a spell aimed at Harry, and Hermione noticed that the grates to the fireplaces were slamming down one by one. The four of them managed to enter one, but not before Yaxley got a hold of Ron’s arm.

When Amara landed on her feet, she saw they had not returned to Grimmauld Place but had landed in some forest instead. Gasping softly as she saw Ron’s torn shoulder joint, Amara immediately opened her bag and dug around for Dittany. She threw the bottle to Hermione and tried to catch her breath. “Hermione, I thought-”

Hermione was soothing a whimpering Ron, trying to administer the searing droplets of Dittany. “Yaxley must have gotten ahold of Ron, Harry. It wasn’t safe for us there anymore.” Hermione nodded, wiping away some tears. “I had to get us out of there, but Ron got splinched.” Amara’s eyes softened and Harry looked like he was at a loss for words. She patted Harry’s shoulder gently. “The tent is in my bag, Harry. Set it up, please? I’ll do the enchantments.”

Harry was frozen for a few moments. So many people had gotten hurt for him. How many more would before this ended? Amara’s gentle hand to his shoulder broke him from his daze, and he went to begin building the tent.

Amara glanced back at her friends once more, worry flitting through her eyes. “Repello Muggletom, Salvio Hexia, Muffliato Maxima….”

~~~

Ambrosi sighed concernedly, setting the paper down. Amara was pictured, clear as day, running from numerous Ministry officials who fired various spells at her. When he turned the page, he saw his daughter’s face on a Wanted poster.

Artemis had come to settle next to him, hooting sadly and nudging Amara’s picture with her talons. Ambrosi brought his hand up to pet her gently and she nibbled on his finger affectionately in return. He was doing his best to keep his promise to Amara, but it was immensely difficult to stay safe. While Grimaldi Manor was protected, Ambrosi wouldn’t be should he have to leave for any mission for the Order.

He had lost his beloved wife because of this darkness; he hoped and prayed for his Amara’s safety every day. She would not lose him because of this War, he would make sure of it.

~~~

Amara was pacing around the perimeter of their safe haven, her arms hugging a black shawl to her body. From her neck dangled the two rings on a small chain, clinking softly as she walked. As she got closer to the tent, she overheard Harry snapping at Hermione for not doing enough for Ron. Amara, too, had been working on brewing a healing potion, but it was proving to be very difficult with the limited number of ingredients she brought with her.

Amara stood in front of Harry, stretching out her hand. “Take it off. The Horcrux.” Harry tugged the locket from his neck aggressively, immediately letting out a loud sigh of relief. “Better?” Harry nodded silently, and Amara clasped it around her neck. “We’ll wear it in turns.”

From inside the tent, Ron’s radio crackled, and Lee Jordan’s voice rang out clearly. The locket now hung right next to Ambrosi’s ring, chittering maliciously as always. As night fell, Harry, Hermione, and Amara headed into the tent. Amara had made her way into the kitchen, not quite thinking of anything but dinner. Deciding on some quick spaghetti, Amara got a pot of water boiling and dug around her bag for a jar of sauce.

“And now for some sobering news. We’ve just received word that our beloved friend, Nectar, has been murdered by Death Eaters just miles away from his home. Let’s all have a moment of silence in his memory.” The jar of pasta sauce fell from Amara’s fingers and crashed to the floor. Hermione rushed over to her but faltered slightly. Amara’s face was entirely expressionless.

No one spoke or moved for the next minute. The crackle from Ron’s radio broke the silence. “To those that knew him, Nectar was a benevolent man, an unwavering father, and a strong friend. He died a hero. In Nectar’s honor, the password for our next broadcast will be Grimaldi. Stay safe everyone, Potterwatch will be back as soon as possible.” Amara walked over the broken glass and clung to her shawl, exiting the tent numbly.

Ron came out from the bedroom, his eyes wet with tears and one trailing down his face. Hermione went over to him and hugged him close, both of them sobbing silently. Harry felt his heart shattering. Of all of them, he could understand Amara’s pain best. Ambrosi was beloved by all. He was one of the few men he trusted dearly, possibly the one he trusted most after Sirius and Remus.

Amara stood outside the tent, the snow falling around her, contrasting harshly against her black shawl. Silent tears were streaming down her face. The cold air was thinning around her, suffocating her until she couldn’t breathe. Her knees gave way from her shock just as Harry came out, quickly catching her. When she felt Harry’s arms around her, something in Amara snapped.

She let out a wail, one that could have been heard for miles had they not put up a sound barrier. That wail gave way to broken, choked sobs as Amara clung to Harry. The cold around them couldn’t compare to the shattering grief inside her, threatening to consume her at any second.

Inside the tent, Hemione placed a hand over her mouth and Ron closed his eyes in pain when they heard Amara’s scream. Harry didn’t know what to say or do besides holding her. He knew this pain, and in this pain, no one could say anything to make it better. Things would be dark until something -anything- gives you a glimmer of hope. Amara had been there for him the most after Sirius’s death, and he would do the same.

Bellatrix’s cackles rang through the foyer of Malfoy Manor. Draco gritted his teeth, not interested in another gleeful rant about which Order member or muggleborn family she had killed now. His fingers clutched his mug of tea, burning with the heat encircling them.

“I told you, Cissy! I told you I would kill that blood-traitor!” Draco managed to take a sip, the hot tea scalding his throat. He stood, about to make his way to his bedroom for the night. “That Ambrosi Grimaldi got what was coming to him.”

Draco’s mug hit the floor, shattering into tiny shards. The tea swam across the wooden floor. Draco said nothing. He couldn’t. He didn’t trust his voice, nor his ears in this moment.

In her cheerful reverie, his aunt ignored it completely. Narcissa’s eyes immediately shot to Draco. Lucius, too, hardened as he stood, unreadable as always. Somehow, Draco got his feet to move. The winding staircase to the bedrooms seemed even longer to Draco now, his feet dragging with effort as he moved.

While Bellatrix danced around the room, her sister’s eyes followed Draco as he trudged upstairs. She wanted to follow him but thought otherwise when she heard Draco’s door slam shut.

The Muffliato cast over his bedroom would have stifled his scream had he not gone out to his balcony. It rang out across the immaculate lawns, frightening the peacocks roaming around. He lost the man who cared for him just as Amara did. Amara…

Swallowing hard, Draco closed his eyes, letting himself feel the hot tears streaming down his face. How much more would she have to lose? How much more was this War going to take from them all?

~~~

Amara had been in a daze these past few days. They weren’t making much progress with the search, nor were they any closer to deciphering Dumbledore’s riddle. She couldn’t sleep. Should her eyes droop shut for even just a few minutes, the Potterwatch broadcast played in her mind like a reel on replay.

Hermione’s rhythmic snipping of scissors was nearly silent as she attempted to give Harry a haircut. Harry found it entirely unnecessary; it was just something to pass the time. His mind was elsewhere: the night of Bill and Fleur’s wedding when he last spoke to Ambrosi. He found it more important than ever to remember these words.

The wedding had transitioned into the reception seamlessly. Harry found himself surrounded by many red-headed Weasleys and members of the Order, the atmosphere high with celebrations. He was sitting at a table alone when he was joined by Ambrosi who put a fatherly hand on his shoulder.

Ambrosi knew they would be leaving tomorrow; before he went to dance with his daughter, he wanted to come talk to Harry. The war brewing and the lives lost had a devastating impact on Harry. Ambrosi felt the responsibility of lightening his burden as much as he could. “Harry… It can be very easy to blame ourselves for grievances in life, especially when we are there to witness them. For years, even before I knew of Sirius’s innocence and Pettigrew’s deceptions, I did not blame Sirius for the death of Lucianna... I blamed myself. I believed I should have been the one to go to Godric’s Hollow that night in her stead.” Harry swallowed softly, and Ambrosi’s eyes gleamed softly with his wisdom and kindness. It was the same look Amara often had in her eyes. She was more like her father than she knew.

“In some ways, that feeling has never gone away. And yet… When I think of our world now, I think of the other eleven people who were murdered that night and the countless lives being lost because of the darkness in our world. People leave this world and new souls are created every second. Our proximity to death doesn’t make death our fault.” Ambrosi’s voice never wavered. It was strong and reassuring, and Harry absorbed the words as much as he could. “This war has been building for a long time. Lives have been lost, and unfortunately, we’ll lose others we love as well. Remember who you are, Harry. Not what is happening around you, not what may happen. Remember who you are, and this war will not be able to steal you away from yourself.”

“Oh my God!” As the scissors clattered to the floor, Harry was pulled away from his thoughts. Hermione rushed to the kitchen, digging through her bag and pulling out one of her many books. Harry followed her quickly, ignoring the incessant crackling of Ron’s radio. Amara stepped into the tent, shivering from the cold outside. Her emotional numbness dissipated slightly when she took in the excitement exuding from Hermione. “The sword of Gryffindor… it’s goblin-made!” Amara’s eyes widened and she went to join Hermione at the table. “That’s amazing news!”

Harry looked at the two of them in bewilderment, completely not understanding why the sword being goblin-made had anything to do with the sudden cheer (and also because this was the first time he’d seen light in Amara’s eyes in weeks). Hermione exhaled in exhilaration and spoke, “You’ve already destroyed a Horcrux, haven’t you? Tom Riddle’s diary.”

“With a Basilisk’s fang! Don’t tell me you and Amara have one of those in your bloody little bags.” Harry reached across the table to see the book Hermione was flipping through. “You don’t understand. The blade of the sword does not rust or dull over time... It only takes in what makes it stronger.” A glimmer of understanding shined in Harry’s eyes. “The sword is impregnated with Basilisk venom. Which is why…”

“Why Dumbledore left it to me in his will! You are brilliant, Hermione, truly.” Hermione babbled in her exhilaration, humbly disregarding Harry’s compliment. “There’s only one problem, of course.” Before Harry could continue, the lights in the tent suddenly switched off, plunging them into momentary darkness. When they came on again, Ron was standing to their immediate left, the Deluminator clenched harshly in his fist. “The sword was stolen.”

Amara was the first to recognize Ron’s anger. “Ron… the Horcrux. Have you been wearing it all day?” He completely ignored her, plundering on as his emotions overruled his mind. “Yeah, I’m still here. But you two carry on. Don’t let me spoil all the fun.” His tone made the girls blanch with worry. “What’s wrong?” Ron scoffed as if Harry’s question was utterly ludicrous.

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Not according to you, anyway.” Harry’s jaw began to set, hardening with irritation. “Look, if you’ve got something to say, don’t be shy. Spit it out.” The argument escalated; Ron was seething internally, and it was only a matter of time before his anger bubbled over like lava and burned those near him. “Alright, I’ll spit it out. But don’t expect me to be grateful now that there’s another damn thing we’ve got to find.”

“I thought you knew what you signed up for.” Harry’s eyes were wide, not used to this kind of behavior from Ron. This wasn’t like him at all. “Yeah, I thought I did too.” Harry began to get up and approached Ron, ignoring Amara’s hand as she reached out to grab his wrist and hold him back. “Well then, I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand. What part of this isn’t living up to your expectations? I mean, did you think we were gonna be staying in a 5-star hotel? Finding a Horcrux every other day? Did you think you’d be back with your mum by Christmas?”

“I just thought, after all this time, we would have actually achieved something. I thought you knew what you were doing! I thought Dumbledore would’ve told you something worthwhile.” Hermione came to stand next to Ron, not knowing how to help. Ideas on how to deescalate the situation ran through Amara’s mind, but she wasn’t confident that anything would work at this point. “I told you everything Dumbledore told me, and in case you haven’t noticed, we have found a Horcrux already.”

“Yeah, and we’re as close to getting rid of it as we are to finding the rest of them, aren’t we?” Hermione reached for the Horcrux, begging him to take it off. “Ron, please... You wouldn’t be saying any of this if you hadn’t been wearing it all day.” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Do you know why I listen to that radio every night? I listen so I don’t hear Ginny’s name. Or Fred, or George, or my mum.”

“You think I’m not listening to? You think I don’t know how it feels?” “No, you DON’T know how it feels! Your parents are dead; you have no family.” The scathing words thundered around the four as Harry jumped forward, wanting to expel his anger but unable to hurt his best friend. “Fine, then go! Go then!” Ron tugged the Horcrux off furiously, not even faltering when he saw Hermione’s tears.

Amara’s heart panged, the cracks in it searing her painfully. “And you? Are you coming or you staying?” Hermione looked at Ron and then to Harry and Amara. She couldn’t say anything, but Amara nodded to her softly. Ron would need her with him; it was far too dangerous for him to leave alone, and it wouldn’t be right to leave Harry alone either.

Hermione wordlessly agreed, and Amara knew she would bring Ron back as soon as she could. Dumping some of her books onto the table, she grabbed her bag with the tears streaming down her face. Harry understood though he couldn’t honestly say he didn’t feel betrayed. Ambrosi’s words came to his mind as they Disapparated. Remember who you are, Harry. Not what is happening around you, not what may happen. Remember who you are, and this war will not be able to steal you away from yourself.

~~~

Harry came to join Amara outside. She was sitting with her back against a tree, her eyes closed as she breathed in the frosty, winter air. When she heard the scuffle of Harry sitting beside her, Amara didn’t open her eyes but rather just leaned to rest her head against his shoulder and made sure her blanket covered him as well. He hummed softly in contentment, asking her what she was thinking about.

“I was remembering a trip I took with my father and Draco one winter. His parents were taking a vacation and Draco hated being left behind, so he came to stay with us. We would spend the day skiing or flying or building castles of snow… My dad would turn in around an hour or so before we did, and we’d sit by a fireplace, reading together or just talking.” Harry’s arm came around Amara’s shoulder and he smiled softly. That didn’t sound like the Malfoy he knew, but he could hear a smile in Amara’s voice. She truly cherished these memories… she truly cherished him.

“You love him.” Harry didn’t ask a question. He knew, just as she did. “Yes, I love him. Even if he may not show that he loves me too.” They sat together in comfortable silence. A few birds chirped around them and a soft wind blew through the grand conifers. Harry and Amara were both hurting, but just for these silent moments, their pain could be pushed aside.

~~~

As Amara woke the next morning, the day felt brighter. There seemed to be a palpable hum of energy in the air, something that had all but vanished in the last few months. Harry was nowhere in sight, but Amara heard people talking outside. Shooting out of bed immediately, she grabbed her cardigan and rushed out of the tent, worry clearly etched onto her face. Her feet faltered once she made it out of the mouth of the tent; her features lit up with relief.

Hermione rushed to Amara and threw her arms around her. Harry was smiling for the first time in a while. From the corner of her eyes, Amara saw the Sword of Gryffindor in Ron’s hand, the morning sun reflecting off of the blade and shining onto the destroyed locket in his other hand. “You found it! Where?” Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, both of them remembering last night’s events and Hermione sighed softly as she thought of the locket’s torturous words to Ron.

The quartet headed into the warm tent and Amara began making some tea as she was brought up to speed with the events. The searingly harsh Horcrux was not a surprise to Amara; she remembered all too clearly how the Horcrux in Tom Riddle’s diary had wanted to kill Harry. It made perfect sense, actually. Twisted, dark souls could only bring pain and destruction.

Even so, the energy didn’t dissipate from around the four friends. There was a shining sense of hope when they were reunited. No one forgot at how quickly that hope could be torn away from them, but they all clung on to it anyhow.

When Amara gave Hermione her tea, she handed something to Amara in return: Dumbledore’s copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Amara flipped to the page that was marked, her fingers brushing against the inscription that followed “The Tale of the Three Brothers.” Harry peered over Amara’s shoulder curiously while the wheels in Amara’s mind churned away. Surely this wasn’t a rune she had seen before.

“I’ve seen that… Xenophilius Lovegood was wearing that symbol at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.” Amara’s eyebrows shot up as she experienced a stifled epiphany. She had an idea about what the symbol could mean, but voicing her idea was not the best way to go about this, not when Ron’s motive for leaving was based on more things they had to find. She would wait for Luna’s father to confirm or deny her suspicions before she brought this up. “We need to go see him.”

~~~

“That treacherous little… Is there no one we can trust?!” Ron’s agitation spilled from his mouth and echoed against the trees surrounding them. “They took Luna, Ron. He was desperate.” Harry was angered as well, but not at Xenophilius. He was angry with himself. The thoughts he often tried to dispel spun around in his head again. He did not want more people to get hurt for him. Before Harry could recall Ambrosi’s words and ground himself, Hermione froze in his peripheral vision.

Just a few feet from them, Snatchers lounged against the trees, looking for their next targets lazily. “Well don’t hang about, snatch ‘em!” Amara had to take Hermione’s hand and drag her out of her shock. In his shock, Ron stumbled and ran as fast as he could. Even as they began to run, Amara knew they would not make it away safely; they could not Disapparate away together, they wouldn’t get close enough.

As discreetly as she could, Amara sent a Stinging Jinx in Harry’s direction. His cry of pain was muffled by the bracken covered ground as he tripped. Hermione, now completely back to her senses, grabbed Harry’s glasses and stuffed them into her bag. Harry’s glasses were far too recognizable. At the same time, Amara took up some mud and caked it onto her neck and cheek. She knew it wouldn’t be enough. Amara Grimaldi’s face was next to Harry’s on the Wanted posters.

Wracking her brain for whatever she could do in the limited amount of time they had, Amara thought of only one spell: Crinus Muto. It was an exceedingly difficult spell, one of the last she had learned from Professor McGonagall. If performed incorrectly, the results would be disastrous.

Yet, by some stroke of luck (or perhaps by the skill Amara had), she was no longer recognizable. Her long, mahogany locks had transformed into short strands of blonde silk. The Snatchers had thankfully been unable to see Amara’s transformation and were stupid enough to assume that one member of the group got away. No matter. There were four more prizes to collect.

Four of the Snatchers grabbed each of the four friends while the leader sauntered around them arrogantly. He questioned them individually, trying to see which would crack first. Hermione chose to say she was Penelope Clearwater, and Ron said he was Barney Weasley. Amara’s lie had come to her quickly: Marietta Edgecombe, the pureblood daughter of Madame Edgecombe whom she had impersonated a few weeks ago.

Her breath caught in her throat when the leader, Scabior, paused in front of Harry. His eyes lingered on Harry’s forehead for much longer than necessary. “Change of plans… we’re not taking this lot to the Ministry.”

The days were passing. Each moment suffocated Draco more and more. His thoughts never strayed too far from Amara. Was she safe? What was she doing? When would he see her again? When could she be allowed to properly grieve? When would this all end? Would the two of them be able to walk away from this alive?

Narcissa paused at Draco’s door, observing as Draco’s shoulders slumped forward. Long gone was the laughter that warmed this household. Long gone was the light in his eyes. “Draco…” Her heart broke even further when her son looked into her eyes. Every inch of her was aching to grab her child and shield him from the horrors of this life, an instinct she had been attempting to ignore for years now.

“Yes, Mother?” His voice echoed his desolation. Draco had lost the capacity to feel anything. “Your Aunt Bellatrix is calling you. We believe you can identify some traitors.” Even before she came to get her son, Narcissa knew that these were no traitors. Traitors to the Dark Lord, perhaps, but not traitors to the good in the world. Amara had transfigured herself physically, which was a remarkable feat in itself, given that she was not a Metamorphagus. Human transfiguration spells were known to be exceedingly difficult and even dangerous to maintain. Amara could not, however, transfigure the mannerisms ingrained into her. How she carried herself. Her facial expressions. The way she pressed the pad of her thumb to her index finger when she lied, a movement so small you’d have to look for it to see it. Narcissa could see it was her almost immediately.

Draco stood and passed his mother. His lifelessness had scared him once, too, but now it was just who he was. It was who he had to become since he rejected Amara in the hospital wing months ago. Narcissa did not have time to warn her son; their house was no longer safe, their walls had ears. His descent down the winding staircase was not rushed. A memory flitted through his mind: Amara at age eight, daring Draco to slide down the banister. Would they ever know such joy again?

“Ah, Draco! So good of you to join us.” Draco looked up at the sound of her voice just out of habit. When he did, his feet faltered. He prayed it wasn’t noticeable. His eyes fell on Granger and Weasley, and then to the blonde girl standing next to them, mud drying on her neck and left cheek, obscuring her features. Draco’s confusion lasted only a fraction of a second. His aunt’s next words cleared them up immediately.

The Snatchers had not been dismissed. Bellatrix enjoyed an audience. Whether that audience would witness the Dark Lord’s reward to the family or if they would witness a murder by her hands was irrelevant. “I have reason to believe that the imp I am holding is none other than the chosen one himself.” The biting sarcasm tore through her voice, but he no longer heard anything. Noises muted in the background. If this was Potter, Granger, and Weasley… then the blonde girl was Amara. There was no other option.

Bellatrix tugged on Harry’s hair, revealing the scar which stretched across his forehead. “Well?” She looked at Draco expectantly, growing frustrated when his answer was weak. “I can’t be sure.” Lucius had been listening silently up until this point. His loyalties had never externally wavered, but he, too, wanted this war over. “Look closely, son. If we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, all will be forgiven. All will be as it was, do you understand?” Draco swallowed hard and took a cautious step forward.

“Don’t be shy, sweetie. Come over.” Bellatrix pulled Draco by the arm gently, bringing him to his knees in front of Harry. “If this isn’t who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, he’ll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure.”

Draco was sure. “What’s wrong with his face?” The scar didn’t give him away, his eyes did. Draco had glared into them enough times to know what they looked like. “Yes, what is wrong with his face?” Bellatrix echoed the question. “He came to us like that. Something he picked up in the forest, I reckon.”

Harry was not entirely surprised that Draco had not given him away. He was slowly starting to see the Draco his friend loved. He was there, hiding underneath the surface, just as Amara always said. “Or ran into a Stinging Jinx.” Amara’s heart thudded in panic. Hermione glanced at Amara anxiously, but she held her ground as Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed on her. Narcissa clutched Lucius’s arm, frightened for the girl whom she loved like a daughter. She was unable to protect her, just as she was unable to protect Draco. “Give me her wand, I want to see what her last spell was.”

A pleased, evil giggle came from Bellatrix and she continued to step towards Amara. “Got you.” She paused then, her glee molding into fear. “What’s that?” Bellatrix’s voice was no more than a whisper. Her eyes gestured toward the Sword of Gryffindor which was being held by a Snatcher. “Where did you get that from?” Scabior seemed a bit bored, having seen many such encounters. “It was in her bag when we searched her.” He took the sword and pointed it at Amara. “Reckon it’s mine now.”

The grin on Scabior’s face was wrenched away with Bellatrix’s spell, casting him back towards the stairwell and the Sword flew into her hand. “Get out!” Exuding a whip from the tip of her wand, Bellatrix attacked the other Snatchers, beating them until they scrambled away. Her eyes came to narrow on Amara. “Cissy, put the boys and the mudblood in the cellar.” Ron, Harry, and Hermione were pulled away by Narcissa and then pulled down the stairs by Pettigrew. Their screams and protests fell on deaf ears.

Amara’s face had not changed, even when she had a very good idea of what was coming. “I want to have a little conversation with this one.” Bellatrix wasted no time with theatrics now. She made her way to Amara very quickly, pausing only when the necklace Amara wore gleamed in the light. Amara inhaled sharply, and her focus slipped. Her magic could no longer maintain the disguise. Even if it did, it would have been meaningless. The necklace held her father’s ring; the crest of the Grimaldi family was all too recognizable.

When Harry and Ron were tossed to the dungeon floor, they heard Bellatrix’s cackle. It was joyful once again. She had found another motivation for torturing Amara, not that she needed convincing. Amara’s blonde hair reverted to its natural state, and Bellatrix took a handful, using it to throw the girl to the ground. Despite her pain, Amara clenched her jaw shut, refusing to scream or speak. She would not give this murderer any form of satisfaction. “I had hoped to kill you the same day I killed your father, but I suppose that can be taken care of now.” In her taunting, Bellatrix did not see that Narcissa and Lucius had to restrain Draco. Attacking his aunt would only bring more pain to Amara, and a part of Draco knew that. How could he be expected to watch the girl he loved -he had stopped denying it long ago- be torn apart?

“How brave. Your father was brave too. But bravery doesn’t save anyone, now does it?” Something in Amara snapped. Perhaps it was foolish, she knew it would only invite more torture for her. She stood and grabbed Bellatrix’s wand arm, twisting it behind her back. “Don’t say another word about my father.” In their surprise at Amara’s actions, Draco was nearly able to wrench out of his parents’ arms. They caught him again before he could help her. Bellatrix freed her arm from Amara’s grip and backhanded her with enough force to send her flying to the ground once more.

Amara did not show her pain; her will was no match for the Cruciatus curse, however. Bellatrix’s bloodlust and anger fueled the spell. Amara’s body convulsed as the spell seared through her brain, and she could no longer hold back the screams of agony. It took all of Narcissa and Lucius’s strength to keep Draco restrained, and Amara’s screams were echoed by Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the cellars. “Not so brave now, Grimaldi?” The spell intensified for a moment before it relented.

Amara gasped, trying to prepare herself for more pain. The cries of her friends grew louder, and it took every ounce of control Draco had to not harm his parents and rush over to Amara. Bellatrix tucked her wand away and grabbed her dagger, harshly flipping Amara over and laying over her. “That sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts. How did you get it? What else did you and your friends take from my vault?!” Her voice started out as a whisper and crescendoed to a scream.

Draco felt unbelievably useless. In all the years Draco had known Amara, he had never heard her sound so broken. “I didn’t take anything. Please… we found it.” He could not stand this. Narcissa looked at her son once he slumped in her arms, sharing a look with her husband as well. Watching Amara writhe in agony was torture for them too. “I don’t believe you.” As silently as he could, Draco took the wands of the quartet and slunk off to the dungeons. His face contorted with pain as Amara’s screams echoed throughout the foyer and down the stairs to the dungeons. It only took seconds to stun Pettigrew and Draco faltered when he saw Dobby. “Dobby?” Luna and Ollivander were gone, to Draco’s relief. The cries were unbearable for all those who loved Amara. It didn’t seem possible, but they got even louder.

Draco had tears in his eyes, as did Hermione. Harry did not fail to notice them. The five worked on a plan to get them back upstairs and safely away with Amara. Draco had to sneak back upstairs first, leaving the wands with their rightful owners. Dobby Apparated them up to the top of the stairs. Amara lay on the floor. Her blood pooled out of her forearm; the words ‘blood traitor’ were etched into her skin. Bellatrix kicked her once more in anger and questioned Griphook about who could have possibly entered her vault.

Silent tears streamed from Amara’s eyes. The tears could have been from the assault she had endured, but she didn’t think so. Her heart thudded painfully when she saw Draco’s eyes, broken and helpless as he looked at her. “Liar!” The dagger that had torn through the skin on Amara’s forearm had grazed Griphook’s cheek. Bellatrix was not going to get any substantial answers from him because they had never broken into her vault. “Consider yourself lucky, goblin. The same won’t be said for this one.”

Amara did not have the energy to defend herself. Not anymore. Bellatrix was slightly disappointed. Having her victims struggle and scream was part of the fun. Just then, Amara’s friends ran from the shadows and attacked. Draco was bound by his love for his family as much as he was for his love for Amara. He pretended to fight against Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Should he concede too easily, his aunt would see and would kill Amara so much faster.

As soon as they came into sight, Bellatrix pulled Amara up to her feet. “Stop!” Hermione, Harry, and Ron faltered when they saw Amara. Draco bit down on his tongue so hard he drew blood. “Drop your wands” The dagger pressed against Amara’s throat. One slice and she would be gone. “I said drop them!” They had no choice but to obey. “Draco, pick them up, now!” Draco picked them up without hesitation, knowing well that he would return them as soon as he could.

“Well well well… look what we have here! It’s Harry Potter! He’s all bright and shiny and new… just in time for the Dark Lord!” Amara whimpered softly, and Draco had to look away. This was worse than any of his nightmares. “Call him.” Amara’s life was at the mercy of his deranged aunt, and he did not have the strength to watch. Her screams and his sheer helplessness would be etched into him forever, just like the cruel words would be on her. “Call him!”

Before Lucius could begin calling Lord Voldemort, the silence in the foyer was met with a squeaking sound. Bellatrix looked up to see Dobby on top of the chandelier, not realizing what he was doing until it was released. In her haste, Bellatrix shoved Amara away from her as she dove backward. Hermione caught her and in the chaos, Harry tugged the wands away from Draco who didn’t put up much of a fight.

“You stupid elf! You could’ve killed me!” Griphook had joined their little group and Hermione held Amara upright. It was taking all of Amara’s strength to stand. “Dobby never meant to kill. Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure.” Narcissa swirled her wand around as if to cast a spell, though her movement made it only too easy for Dobby to disarm her.

“How dare you take a witch’s wand? How dare you defy your masters?!” Bellatrix’s screaming did not affect Dobby. The only one terrified was Amara. Her voice would haunt Amara’s dreams just as Amara’s suffering would haunt Draco. “Dobby has no master. Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!” They all reached for Dobby and he began to Disapparate just Bellatrix threw the dagger towards the group. Draco’s blood ran cold when he saw the dagger disappear along with them.

~~~

Dobby’s death had shaken all of them to the core. The four spent as much time together as they could, planning and recuperating. Amara spent much time mulling over the riddle Dumbledore left her. There wasn’t much else for her to do. She and Harry would remain hidden with Griphook when they broke into Gringotts. It was certain that Bellatrix was terrified of something else being taken from her vault… they just don’t know what it was.

Hermione stood at the doorway of the guest room where Amara was, her hand hesitating above the doorknob. She was not going to have her impersonate the woman that killed her father and tortured her, Hermione would do it instead. “Harry! Ron! Hermione!” Amara’s voice rang through the cottage. Her friends burst through the door without wasting another moment. “What happened?”

Amara was busy scribbling away on some spare parchment. Dumbledore’s riddle finally made sense. “I figured out what the riddle means!” Amara laid the riddle and her incomplete notes side by side. “For one destroyed, false security was the answer. He first tried with a memory.” Amara shook her head incredulously, not understanding why it took her so long to figure this out. “The riddle gives us clues to his Horcruxes.” She had to be careful not to say the name.

“A memory… his diary?” Hermione caught on quickly, relieved. “Then, he relied on his grandfather. Marvolo Gaunt’s ring.” Harry gingerly lifted the book up and Ron noted the next line. “He craved excellence, wisdom, and victory.” This gave them all pause. Amara took a moment to think not of Lord Voldemort, but of Tom Marvolo Riddle, the child with the dark life and past. Hogwarts had been his home. “Hogwarts. Excellence, wisdom, and victory… the traits of the Hogwarts houses. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor!”

The four huddled on the bed for another hour, trying to determine what each line meant. “Ron destroyed Slytherin’s locket! But victory… victory could also be a trait of the Hufflepuff house…” Amara was running her mind over what object of the Ravenclaw family could Voldemort have defiled. She was coming up with nothing. “If we know it’s an object of victory, perhaps we’re looking for a trophy… a cup of some kind.”

By the end of their brainstorming, they had concluded that four Horcruxes remained. One would be linked to Ravenclaw, the other to Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. One was a companion of his… though they were unsure about who this could be. Voldemort had an army of followers; any one of which could be holding a Horcrux for him.

The last two lines bothered Amara. She believed she understood what they meant. ‘When he tried to escape his downfall, he left himself there.’ Voldemort had gone to kill Harry… A Horcrux was not going to be found in Harry’s old home, he would have already found it when they went to Godric’s Hollow. But what if Harry himself was a Horcrux. Amara didn’t want to entertain the possibility, but her rationality did not allow her to dismiss it. Harry had known for a long time that he may not live through this War; Amara could not be the one to confirm her friend’s death.

~~~

Before they knew it, the quartet was back at Hogwarts. Seeing Neville and all of their friends brought everyone a renewed sense of relief. Quickly, the came up with a plan to find the remaining Horcruxes. Harry explained that the Horcrux they needed to find had something to do with Ravenclaw. The suggestion of the lost diadem was echoed by Luna and Amara was about to leave when students were being summoned to the Great Hall.

They wouldn’t get away with ignoring the summon. If they tried, it would have brought about much torture. “I have a better idea.” Harry quickly changed into Hogwarts robes as Nigel made a Potterwatch broadcast announcing that the four were at Hogwarts. Amara, Hermione, and Ron were alerting the members of the Order.

The march to the Great Hall felt like a march of prisoners rather than students. Amara swallowed a whimper of pain as she watched. Where was the Hogwarts that was her home? Was it lost forever?

“Many of you are surely wondering why I have summoned you at this hour. It has come to my attention that earlier this evening, Harry Potter was sighted in Hogsmeade.” A murmur rose from the student body. Harry was beginning to twitch with anger. “Now. Should anyone, student or staff, attempt to aid Mr. Potter, they will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their transgression. Furthermore…

“Any person found to have knowledge of these events and fails to come forward will be treated as equally guilty.” Snape left the head of the Hall and made his way down the center aisle, his eyes searching. “Now then, if anyone here has any knowledge of Mr. Potter’s movements this evening… I invite them to step forward…. Now.” His feet stopped. His eyes glanced directly at the old members of Dumbledore’s Army.

Harry could not stand it any longer. He stepped out from the group of Ravenclaw students as the student body gasped in shock. Snape’s eyes narrowed like those of a snake. “It seems, despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you have a bit of a security problem Headmaster.” The grand golden doors of the Great Hall opened, revealing Amara, Ron, Hermione, and numerous Order members. “I’m afraid it’s quite extensive.”

Harry blinked for one moment, imagining Dumbledore at the Head of the Great Hall, where he had seen him daily for many years. “How dare you stand where he stood? Tell them how it happened that night! Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who TRUSTED YOU, and killed him! Tell them.” Snape brandished his wand, aiming to attack Harry; before he could, Professor McGonagall stood in front of him.

Amara, Ron, Hermione, and the others took a step forward. A few of the members of Dumbledore’s Army stepped away from the crowd of students. Professor McGonagall threw every spell she could at Snape. In his cowardice, Snape Apparated away. A cheer rang out through the Great Hall, and light returned to the flaming lanterns. Before the joy could last very long, however, a cold, shrill voice impregnated everyone’s mind.

“Harry Potter…” Harry’s eyes glazed over as he stumbled backward onto the stone steps. Two students began screaming, and before anyone could help them, the voice continued. “I know that many of you would want to fight. Some of you may even think that to fight is wise… but this is a folly. Give me Harry Potter. Do this, and none shall be harmed.” Harry’s face was blank. The words were a lie. They all knew it.

“Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched.” The voice of evil rang clearly, compelling obedience from those it tormented. “Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour.”

~~~

Before the hour was up, Order members worked to protect the castle. Ron and Hermione went down to the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve another Basilisk fang while Amara and Harry split up in search of the Ravenclaw Horcrux.

Harry was starting in the Ravenclaw common room. If he brought this idea up to Amara first, she would have pointed out what a fruitless endeavor it would be. Instead, Amara found herself in the restricted section of the library. Perhaps there was some clue here.

Pacing through the bookshelves, Amara looked over the titles as swiftly as she could. One the side of one shelf, she found the crest of the Ravenclaw house. She stopped in front of it. Amara had been here numerous times and had never seen it before.

Suddenly, Dumbledore’s words rang through Amara’s mind. “Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” Biting her lip anxiously, Amara brushed her fingers against the wings of the eagle on the crest. “I wish to see what you hold.” The silence in the library was deafening. She waited with bated breath until the crest began to turn, slowly embedding itself into the wood. Above her head, a compartment opened.

Within it was a diary… the last diary of Rowena Ravenclaw. Amara took the book, gingerly opening it while trying to find anything she could on the diadem. Her fingers stopped on the last page. A drawing of the diadem greeted her; below it were the words “to be bestowed upon my daughter, Helena, after my death.” Her eyes widened. The Grey Lady. Taking the diary with her, Amara ran to Ravenclaw tower as fast as she could.

The hour was up; Death Eaters had begun attacking the protective dome around the school. It was only a matter of time before they would infiltrate the castle. Just as Amara rounded the corner, she ran straight into Harry. “Harry! You need to speak to the Grey Lady! She’ll know the location of the Diadem.” Harry caught her by the shoulders, stabilizing them both. “I already did. It’s in the Room of Requirement.” Her eyes widened with confusion and recognition both.

The battle raged on above them. Hermione and Ron, miles below the ground, had destroyed the cup. For a moment, they just looked at each other. The water trickled around them. Their arms came around each other in a loving embrace; their lips met for the first time. Both knew they might die tonight. It didn’t matter. Hermione and Ron had denied their love long enough. Ron took her hand, vowing to not let it go.

Amara and Harry rushed up many flights of stairs. Ginny began running towards him. “Ginny! I-” She cut Harry off with a sweet kiss. “I know.” Amara’s steps had faltered for a second but she continued, letting Harry have a moment with Ginny amidst the horrors around them. She swallowed softly, blinking away tears. It was quite possible she would not get to tell Draco she loved him ever again.

Within minutes, Harry and Amara began searching the Room of Requirement. They split up to cover more ground, and Harry was the first to realize they weren’t alone. Draco, Goyle, and Zabini were ten paces away from him, all three of them pointing their wands at him. “You have something of mine. I’d like it back.” Draco had willingly let Harry snatch the wands from his hands that night, a fact they both knew. “What’s wrong with the one you have?” This conversation was more for the sake of Goyle and Zabini. “It’s my mother’s. It’s powerful… but it doesn’t quite understand me.”

Amara found herself deep into the room when she spotted it. Pixies were hiding within the piles of forgotten items and a few flew out when she tried to grab it. She made it back to Harry just as he asked Draco another question. “Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix. You knew it was me.” Amara stepped into Draco’s sight just then, and Goyle urged him to stun Harry. Draco did nothing but slightly lower his wand. Harry was reminded of the night in the Astronomy Tower just a year ago. Draco had lowered his wand in the memory of Amara once again.

Draco looked to Amara. The air was thinning around both of them. Suddenly the few steps between them were like a chasm of miles they had to cross to get to each other. Harry just observed the silent moment, noting Draco’s eyes and reactions. He really did love her. He had no choice. He was bound by his family. Without warning, Goyle shot “Stupefy!” at Hermione while Ron disarmed Zabini. Someone -Amara couldn’t see who- cast Avada Kadavra. In her haste to deflect it, the diadem slipped from her fingers; it flew to the top of a heap of junk as the spell ricocheted off of it.

Ron ran after Goyle and Zabini. Draco and Amara were both frozen for just one more moment before Harry called for her help. She was the first to tear her eyes away. Draco watched her climb the precarious pile before he, too, ran off. Harry grabbed the diadem and tossed it down to Amara who let it fall into Hermione’s waiting hands. Just then, Ron’s screams and a strange light began to fill the grand room. “GOYLE SET THE BLOODY PLACE ON FIRE.” He grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her along with him, running for the door.

This was no ordinary fire; this was Fiendfyre, a dangerous form of dark magic. Harry took Amara’s hand and pulled her along, but the fire had a mind of its own. It found them wherever they ran. Before it could corner them, Harry was able to cast a wall from Aguamenti to protect them. Ron stumbled to the ground and fell against four broomsticks. Before they could make their escape, Harry glanced back to see Draco and Zabini clutching onto a chest for dear life as the fire roared below them. “Harry!”

Amara’s eyes followed Harry’s and she immediately turned around. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS SHE DOING?” Ron screamed after Amara, but she heard nothing. “We can’t leave them!” Harry tried to reason with Ron, quickly following after Amara. “He’s joking, right?” Amara reached them first and tried to grab Draco’s hand without losing her momentum. His fingers grazed her palm before they came down to clutch the drawer once more. “If we die for them, Amara, I’m gonna kill you!” Harry’s hand grabbed Draco’s and Ron grabbed Zabini. Hermione and Amara led them out as the room began to crumble around them. The six hit the ground hard and Amara stabbed the Diadem, kicking it into the Room of Requirement and letting the fire engulf it.

Amara fell backward as the dark soul within it escaped, encroaching on hers. Draco made it to her before her head hit the ground. The pain in her eyes reminded Draco of the night just a month ago, when he listened to the girl he loved scream as she was tortured. He couldn’t do anything to help her then, but she was with him now. “Amara…” A soft sob escaped Amara’s lips as a tear rolled down Draco’s cheek. They were two sides of the same Galleon; they always had been. Draco kissed her deeply, almost furiously, as if he were trying to make sure she was real and alive. Amara clung to his blazer, her ashen fingers clutching the fabric and holding him close. He pulled away abruptly as his arm began to sting.

Walking away from her was the hardest thing Draco had ever done. He let his fingers brush against her cheek just once before he ran off. Hermione and Harry knew of their love for a long time now, and Ron had chosen to ignore it. He couldn’t any longer. When Amara straightened up, she saw Harry’s eyes glazed over as he fell into another vision.

~~~

The castle was silent and desolate. They had lost so many loved ones. Harry was nowhere to be found. Amara, Ron, and Hermione sat on the crumbling stone stairs. Harry was descending them, his eyes blank. “Harry!” Ron was the first to see him. His voice mellowed when he saw Harry’s expression. “We thought you’d gone to the forest.”

“I’m going there now.” His voice was determined yet lifeless at the same time. Amara and Hermione knew he had figured it out. “Are you mad?” Ron stood in disbelief, staring at the girls who said nothing. “No. You can’t give yourself up to him.” Silent tears began streaming down Amara’s cheeks and she reached for Hermione’s hand. She, too, nodded. Her lashes were decorated with teardrops that threatened to spill over any moment. “There’s a reason I can hear them. The Horcruxes.”

Amara’s breath caught in her chest and suffocated her as if it was being squeezed by a boa constrictor. “I think I’ve known for a while… and I think Hermione and Amara have too.” Hermione’s tears were no longer silent. “I’ll go with you.” Amara ran forward and threw her arms around Harry. He hugged her tight… his best friend… his sister. “No… kill the snake. Kill the snake and then it’s just him.” Hermione moved to hug him too; Harry and Ron looked at each other with broken eyes. Harry had to be the one to pull away. He couldn’t glance back as he walked towards his death. He couldn’t.

Harry walked the empty grounds, looking at the corridor where Fred and George showed him the Marauder's Map. Behind him was the fountain where he launched himself into the sky on his Firebolt for the first time. The Forbidden Forest was where he served his first detention. The Snitch weighed heavily in his pocket. He took it out and read the words once more: I open at the close.

“I’m ready to die.” His breath shook as he pressed the cool gold to his lips. From within it rose a black diamond stone. The Resurrection Stone. Harry took it in his hand and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw his mother standing before him. Next to her was his father. Remus and Sirius stood to his right, and Ambrosi stood to his left. Lily held her hand out to Harry, but he could not touch it. “You’ve been so brave, sweetheart.”

“Why are you here?” He swallowed softly, turning to look at them all. A soft, loving smile was on his mother’s lips. “We never left.” Surrounded by his loved ones, Harry’s fears began to resurface. “D-does it hurt? Dying.” Sirius absorbed the face of his godson and tried to reassure him as gently as possible. “Quicker than falling asleep.” His eyes fell on Ambrosi standing next to his father. “Ambrosi…. It was hard to remember them… your words. But I had to. I did.” Ambrosi nodded warmly, his eyes gleaming with the wisdom Harry found sanctuary in. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted any of you to die for me. And Remus, your son-” Tears brewed in Harry’s eyes now. They’d been held back for who knew how long.

“Others will tell him what his mother and father died for. One day, he’ll understand.” Swallowing his emotions away, he looked upon their faces -their mirages- one last time. “You’ll stay with me?” James was the one to respond, “Until the end.”

“And he won’t see you?” Ambrosi denied this, and Sirius pointed to his heart. “We’re here, you see.” A few minutes ago, Harry had said he was ready to die. Now, he was. “Stay close to me.”

“Always.”

~~~

As the early hours of the morning came upon them, Voldemort brought his army back to Hogwarts. At the sight of them, people came out from the Great Hall. Neville led the way, the Sorting Hat clutched in his hand.

“Who is that? Who’s that Hagrid’s carrying?” Tears spilled from Hagrid’s eyes. Nagini slithered at Voldemort’s side maliciously. “Neville, who is it?” Hermione and Ron stood silently, knowing what had happened but not ready to believe it yet. “Harry Potter is dead!” Amara’s eyes closed in pain as Ginny’s pained screams of anguish echoed around the broken stone. Draco held Amara’s hand. His face, too, was crumpled in hopelessness.

“Silence! Stupid girl. Harry Potter is dead. From this day forth, you put your faith in me.” Voldemort was victorious. It was time for his regime to begin. “Harry Potter is dead!” Behind him, the Death Eaters cackled. All but Narcissa and Lucius, whose eyes were on Draco and Amara across the courtyard. “And now is the time to declare yourself.”

Voldemort’s glee was met with silence. “Come forward and join us… or die.” No one moved. “Draco!” Lucius urged Draco to come, and he didn’t move. His grip on Amara’s hand tightened, and he looked into her defeated hazel eyes. “Draco… Come.” His mother’s voice was one he couldn’t deny. Amara gave him the briefest of nods, but she understood. His hand slipped away from hers once more. Something in Amara hardened painfully. She had loved Draco for years and would love him forever. Yet, he would always be the one that got away.

Draco’s feet felt like lead as he soldiered across the courtyard. Voldemort appraised him, wrapping his arms around him awkwardly. “Well done, Draco. Well done.” Draco went to join his mother, who pulled close to her. Her face was as emotionless as could be, but her eyes spoke volumes. If she could, she would protect Amara too. But she knew the chances of that were very slim.

Neville limped forward too. Ginny and Arthur Weasley looked at him in shock. “Well, I must say I’d hoped for better.” Voldemort’s followers chuckled again. From behind them, Hermione’s face was etched with pain and the tear stains seemed to never dry. “And who might you be, young man?”

Despite everything, Neville’s voice was strong as he said his name, once again earning laughter, some of it especially loud at his last name. “Well, Neville, I’m sure we can find a place for you in our ranks.” “I’d like to say something.” Neville all but cut Voldemort off. This manner of foolish bravery amused him. “Well, Neville, I’m sure we’d all be fascinated to hear what you have to say.”

“It doesn’t matter that Harry’s gone.” If Amara didn’t know any better, she’d have sworn Harry’s arm had moved. “Stand down, Neville.” “People die every day! Friends… family… Yeah, we lost Harry tonight. But he’s still with us! In here!” Neville pointed to his heart and Voldemort’s grin grew wider and wider as he listened. “And so is Fred, and Ambrosi… Remus… Tonks… All of them. They didn’t die in vain. But you will!”

Voldemort’s smile turned into laughter. Surely there was nothing else left. “Because you’re wrong!” Amara made her way up to Neville, standing next to him in solidarity. “Tom Marvolo Riddle…” Amara’s voice was quiet, but everyone could hear it. “How many of your followers know of your true identity? How many know that your blood is dirty, by your own definition? Do they know that you are the son of a witch and a muggle… one proclaiming himself a Lord?” Voldemort’s jubilation vanished. No one had the audacity to speak to him in this way. Ever. “Harry’s heart did beat for us! For all of us!” Neville brandished the Sword from the Sorting Hat. “No matter how many followers you gather, they will never respect you the way we respect Harry.” Before Voldemort could attack them, Harry fell out of Hagrid’s arms, attacking Nagini.

A renewed sense of hope spread across the crowd, a renewed will to fight. They would win. Harry ran, avoiding Voldemort’s attacks. Neville and Amara’s words hit them deeply. Death Eaters began Apparating away. From the corner of her eye, Amara saw Narcissa and Lucius running from the castle. It was then she gave up hope of seeing him again.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Amara regrouped in front of the gates. “I’ll lure him into the castle. We have to kill the snake.” Neville ran forward, the Sword of Gryffindor in the air. Before he could attack, Voldemort cast him back and Apparated away with Nagini. Spells were flying everywhere, and at times it was difficult to differentiate who to protect and who to attack.

Minutes later, when Neville’s eyes opened, he was disoriented as well. Green, red, and white bursts of magic were all around him. His eyes fell on the Sword a few feet behind it. He took it up quickly, rushing to find the snake. Nagini was being distracted by Hermione as Ron attempted to stab her with a Basilisk fang. Before he could, she turned to him, hissing and snapping at him.

Voldemort and Harry collapsed in the courtyard. This was it. Their wands met, just like they had three years ago. Hermione and Ron were running from Nagini. Amara attempted to cast spells to deter her but it was no use. She could not watch her friends die. Before Nagini got any closer, however, Neville sliced her in two. She exploded into a dark cloud.

There was just him. Harry felt Voldemort falter as a piece of his soul disintegrated. He cast against him with fervor, and Voldemort could not hold it back for long. He, too, disintegrated, crumbling into dust and ash like any other in the yard. It was over.

~~~

Harry walked through the Great Hall with a serene smile on his face. They had lost many, but they would not lose any more to darkness. Aberforth chatted with Dean and Seamus. Professor Slughorn believed it was his time to retire and was telling this to Professor Sprout. Harry walked to Hagrid, who gave him a loving hug with a chuckle of peace.

Amara was helping Madame Pomfrey administer healing potions when she saw Harry. Setting the potion down, Amara came to join him; Hermione and Ron did as well. The four walked out onto the bridge. The destruction wasn’t wearing down on them. The sun and the promise of a new beginning were both coming to fruition.

Harry stared down into the chasm below, the Elder Wand in his hand. “Why didn’t it work for him? The Elder Wand.” Amara sat on the ledge of the bridge, her feet dangling down over the edge. “It answered to someone else. When he killed Snape, he thought the wand would become his. But the thing is, the wand never belonged to Snape.” Harry’s eyes looked down at Amara, pausing before he continued explaining.

“It was Draco who disarmed Dumbledore that night in the Astronomy Tower. From that moment on, the wand answered to him. Until… the other night, when Malfoy let me disarm him at Malfoy Manor.” Amara laid back onto the bridge, closing her eyes and letting the sun sink into her skin. “So that means…”

“It’s Harry’s.” Harry came to lay next to Amara. “What do we do with it?” Ron seemed giddy with excitement. “We?” Hermione was flabbergasted at the insinuation. “Just saying… that’s the most powerful wand in the world. With that… we’d be invincible.” Harry stared at the wand for a moment, watching the sleek wood shine in the moonlight. Then, he snapped it in two, sat up, and handed half of it to Amara.

Amara twirled it over in her fingers for a moment. The wand once belonged to Draco. She had given up hope of being with him, but she had this small piece of him. They shared a look, and then, at the same time, Harry and Amara threw the pieces of the wand away below the bridge. Ron and Hermione stared at the pieces flying through the air in surprise. They came to sit next to Harry and Amara. Amara’s arm came around Hermione’s shoulders; Harry grinned at Ron.

It was a real smile. There they sat, hand and hand, just as they had years ago. None of the four friends were afraid. The bright depths spread out below them like the future ahead.

Our heroes have triumphed and can lead peaceful, calmer lives from now on.

Thank you to everyone who is reading my story. It truly means so, so much to me to share this with you. The Fall semester of my university has begun, but I am already working on the third and final part of this mini series!

Don’t hesitate to reach out to me, please! I’d love your feedback/comments/reactions/constructive criticisms :)

Lots of love, JustAThoughtfulAngel <3

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Text

The Mystery Mom

This was a commission but the lovely person decided to keep it anonymous. I had a lot of fun with this one and the description of Wendys mom came from the creative client. I hope you enjoy this and this is my first fic for Gravity Falls! Enjoy :)

Characters: Dipper Pines, Wendy Corduroy, Connie Corduroy (OC)

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Word Count: 2K+

----

Over the years Dipper Pines had seen some things. He was used to the unimaginable and the hard to explain. Whether it be small gnomes that tried to date his sister, a delusional boy with too much hair spray who also tried to date his sister or a demon that almost destroyed the world, he had seen almost everything.

He loved the mysterious and returning to Gravity falls for the fifth year in a row was going to be nothing short of that. One of the biggest conomdromes is how the small town had stayed quiet and hidden from the rest of the universe. He still couldn’t grasp that one.

However, no matter what the environment or mythical creatures that lurked about did, the people who inhabited the town had taken to his interest much more. Mable had always been the people person, that was a no brainer. Her ability to make friends in a minute or create a scene of positivity had always put a smile on his face and made him question if they were truly twins. On the other hand, he was much more quiet and asked the questions that not many would suspect, but in Gravity Falls, you get used to the Pines twins.

Dipper parked the car in the back of his uncle's infamous Mystery Shack, well now it belonged to Soos, but the twins were allowed to stay in the attic just like they did all those summers before. The motel in town was haunted and he would rather not be interrupted in his sleep by a ghost asking about Summerween.

“Well I’m off to see my gal pals.” Mable said as she closed her door and flashed him a smile that finally didn’t have metal anymore. The day those braces came off, she ate literally everything she couldn’t before and got the worst stomach ache of all time, Mabel thought it was worth it.

“Tell Candy and Greata I said hi.” He responded and she went inside to chat to Soos before grabbing the keys to the golf cart.

Dipper took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air of the vast amount of trees that towered over the shack without a second thought. He adjusted his hat and looked around wondering where to start. A certain person came to mind and a smile broke out on his face as he began to walk into town where a certain family of lumberjacks lived.

Summer time was fun, not because of the absences of school but because you can relax and catch up with friends you may have not seen in awhile. Even though most people knew him, he only hung around a handful of people and the redheaded girl with the flannel was the one he cared about most.

The small bell rang as he entered the Mystery Shack. A smile came onto his face as he looked around the store and the memories came flowing in.

“What's up Dipper dude!” Soos cheered as he gave him a fist bump.

“Hey Soos.” He smiled. “Nothing much yet, just glad to be back.”

Soos let out a laugh before ruffling his hat. “Mr. Pines should be back tonight.”

“I’ll make sure to be back, I’ll see you later.” Dipper waved and turned to leave.

“Tell Wendy I said hi.” He heard Soos hollar just as he shut the door.

---

Dipper stood at the dark oak door. A singular antler, no doubt shot by her father, was used as the door knocker and he gave it three swift knocks. He pressed his ear to the door and noticed that there wasn’t much noise, which was a rarity in the Corduroy household. Usually the commotion of her brothers and axes swinging could be heard down the street but instead a peaceful silence was there.

He stood for a few more seconds and turned. “Must not be home.” he said to himself with a tinge of sadness. As he began to turn away, the lock started to rustle and next thing he knew, the door was open.

He looked up, expecting to see Wendy or even her father but his eyes trailed down to someone else. A woman just slightly shorter than he, his growth spirit came just as sophomore year did, looked up at him with bright green eyes and a bright white smile. A faintly lit cigar that was the largest he had ever seen in his life, hung out of the side of her mouth.

“Uh, Hi?” Dipper said nervously but he was met with a small chuckle.

“I assume you’re looking for Wendy?” The woman said and he nodded. “Well she should be back soon but you are more than welcome to wait for her.”

Dipper looked around nervously and she caught on to his hesitation.

“Oh where are my manners! I’m Wendy’s mother.” She stuck out her hand. “Connie Corduroy.” She turned her head and blew out a puff of smoke.

“Oh. Nice to meet you Mrs. Corduroy!”

“Please darling, call me Connie.” She gave him a wink and turned. He noticed that she sounded different from the rest of her family. He then remembered how Wendy mentioned that her mom was born in Canada and spoke some French.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and felt much more relaxed. She led him inside and he took this time to study her. The codorys were known for their big muscles, bigger tempers and fire red hair that you could see from a mile away. But looking at her, she was the exact opposite.

Long blonde hair laid perfectly underneath a forest green beret and Dipper didn’t think it was possible to see a dress in this household. She was also petite and much smaller than Wendy. The fact that she was the complete opposite of her daughter looks wise wasn’t what caught him off guard, but the fact that she had rarely been mentioned.

Wendy wasn’t one to always open up about her family and at one point Dipper thought that her mom might have passed but luckily she hadn’t. He never heard a lot of stories of her. All he knew was that she liked to set things on fire.

“Care for a drink?” Connie asked as she brought him to the kitchen. Quickly she took her cigar and snuffed it in an ashtray before taking a fresh one and lighting a match. “Some water maybe?”

Dipper nodded politely before taking a seat on the couch and looked around. He was surprised to see all the photos lining the wall. Most of them were family photos where all the kids were forced into matching sweaters or fancy clothes. It was a little odd to see Wendy in a frilly dress and her brothers looking perfectly calm in the photos. But even knowing how much she probably hated that frock, she looked happy.

“So, Dipper. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Wendy was so excited when she heard you were coming back to the falls.” She smiled as she handed him a glass of water and stuck a cigar in his mouth, silencing him for a second.

The taste of tobacco filled his mouth as a spark came to life at the end. He had never been a smoker but Connie sure was determined to make him one. He grabbed the glass and popped the cigar out of his mouth and held it in his hand, unsure of what to do with it. “It's one of the few things I look forward to every year. I might like it better than Mabel loves Halloween.” He said as the water washed away the sour taste lingering in his mouth.

Connie let out a laugh. “That must be your sister. Wendy said something about her fighting a unicorn and liking glitter.”

“That's the one.” Dipper said with a chuckle. “So Connie, what do you do for a living?”

Connie smiled and picked up a picture of her standing in front of an explosion. “You’re looking at a professional demolitioner! Basically I get paid to blow up abandoned buildings, cars and heck! Even bad guys!” She gave him a wink.

“That's so cool!” Dipper gushed and he opened his journal and started to jot things down.

“What are you doing?” She asked as she came over to look. Her eyes widened in admiration as he jotted more things down and even drew a quick sketch of her that was, surprisingly, accurate.

“Oh, uh sorry. I like to document many things and I started doing a journal about the people in Gravity Falls and it just happens that I have been saving this page for you. And now that I know you blow things up for a living, it makes a lot of sense of why Wendy likes to do that stuff too.” Dipper said.

Connie smiled and looked at a picture of Wendy on the wall. “She’s always taken after me. Unfortunately due to my work, I have to travel a lot. I get to see the most amazing sights but I miss being at home with my wild family.” She frowned slightly. “On the other side, I get to tell the greatest stories too. I once blew up part of Mount Rushmore for the heck of it. There used to be two more giant heads until I got to it.” She winked.

“No way.” Dipper flipped to a new page and began to write as she kept going on about her adventures.

“Then there was that time in the rainforest where I saved an endangered group of rattlesnakes from a group of hunters.”

Dipper looked up from his journal. “Did you blow them up?”

“No of course not! But I did knock them out a bit.” She laughed as she held up her arms and flexed her muscles. “Yep even in a dress, I can kick some butt.”

“I don’t doubt that. I see a lot of you in Wendy and I’m happy that I got a chance to meet you.” Dipper smiled brightly.

“Well I’ll be going on a small business trip next week, real short stuff but should be back before summer ends. Maybe I’ll have more stories to tell you kids. Wendy always makes me go into extreme detail.” She laughed.

Suddenly Dipper’s phone chimed and he checked his new message. “Oh Wendy said she would meet me at the lake. Thank you for telling me all this, it was really nice meeting you.” He said as he got off the couch.

“Ya know Dipper. Not only do I blow things up, but I can travel by them too.” Connie said as she walked towards the back door and ushered him to follow.

He held his journal to his chest as he looked at the monster before him. “Y-you’re kidding right?” He shuttered.

Connie barked out a laugh before slapping him gently on his shoulder and walking up to the massive canon. “I do love a good joke but this is far from it. This will get you to the lake in a flash.”

After a few minutes of debating if he wanted to risk his life flying through the sky and a contract being signed, Dipper was seated in the dark red canon wearing a helmet that was slightly too big and smelt like maple syrup.

“All set?” Connie called from below before taking her cigar from her mouth and lighting the fuze with it. Dipper didn’t even get a chance to say anything before his body was being propelled through the air.

He shut his eyes tight as he felt the wind run through his hair and he made sure to put his hat and book into his backpack. The second he opened his eyes, he heard a sound come from above and suddenly a giant parachute opened above and helped guide him to the ground. He saw Wendy waving at him and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as his feet came to the ground. Due to the momentum of the wind, he stumbled head first into a bush and let out a small yelp as Wendy rushed over to help him.

“Woah, Dipper! You okay?” She asked as she took his hand and pulled him up.

He let out a laugh as he unclipped the harness and plopped his hat back onto his head. “Yeah I’m alright. Never been shot out of a canon before so that's a first.”

“Shot out of a canon?” She asked.

Dipper smiled. “Yep. By your mom actually.”

It was Wendy’s turn to laugh. “That makes a lot of sense. I was planning on us going there after the lake but guess you beat me to it.”

“She's really nice. You’re a lot like her.”

Dipper had known Wendy for many years and rarely seen her ever blush or get flustered but he assumed that Wendy thought very highly of her mother due to the compliment.

“Thanks Dipper. I hope when I’m older I’m more like her.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you will be.” He said just as they walked to an ice cream stand.

“She said she was leaving today but I’m glad you got to meet her, she’s pretty cool.”

Dipper laughed. “I’ll say, she blows things up for a living.”

They ordered their ice cream and took a seat on the bench. Suddenly they looked to the sky to see something speeding in the air. Wendy squinted her eyes and a wide smile came to her face as a twinkle in the sky appeared.

“Looks like she left.” Wendy said. “She loves that canon.”

“Well I hated it.” Dipper chuckled.

“You’ll get used to it.” She bumped his shoulder playfully.

“I prefer to be on the ground thank you very much.” He stated.

Wendy barked out a laugh and they spent the rest of the day walking around the lake and listening to stories of Wendy’s amazing mom.

———

I hope you liked it :)

#gravity falls #dipper pines #gravity falls fic #wendy corduroy #gravity falls oc #thewritingstar #thewritingstarcommission

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horseluvr00-ff · 4 years

Text

A Place to Call Home | Chapter 37

Masterlist Here

Rating: T+

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/family | kidnapping, violence, strong language.

Story summary: It’s been a few months since the Battle of New York. Steve Rogers is acclimating to life when he crosses paths with teenager Katelyn Sanders, a SHIELD recruit and highly valued asset with a dark past. Follow Kate’s adventure from SHIELD asset to Avenger to wanted fugitive over the course of her youth and into adulthood with her Avenging family. Follows Infinity Saga and beyond.

Words: 6,434

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Marvel/Disney. My OC Katelyn Sanders, as well as a few other unaffiliated things within this fanfic are of my own creation.

Author Note: Relogs are welcome and appreciated :) Please no plagiarism or reposts on other platforms. Updates now occur every other Friday, however posts on Tumblr usually occur Saturdays.

Full story available on FFN and A03 here and here

Chapter 37 can be found here on FFN and here on AO3 in full.

Check out a portion of Chapter 37 below:

The elevator hum was the only sound Kate could focus on as it drew closer and closer to its set destination. It was early in the morning, and the sun was just starting to peek through the city skyline.

Today she was going to go to the New York SHIELD base to discuss how they would proceed with her training and potential to be an agent. Mulling over all of it, Kate knew she might have stepped into it all too quickly. It wasn't hard to see that Steve was hesitant about her expressed desire to work with SHIELD again. Especially after everything he'd done to put distance between her and SHIELD. She was grateful for it all, and in no way was trying to undermine his work. However, SHIELD was a part of her, whether she liked it or not. They knew more about her past and her family than she did, and she had a purpose with them. Even if she decided that one day, the path they had set her on was no longer for her, she'd still have something to fall back on. Where she was now had its limits and taking handouts was something she wasn't comfortable with.

The subtle ding of the elevator causes Kate's eyes to lift up before she makes her way onto the communal floor. It's quiet and the only sound is the thud of her standard SHIELD combat boots as she makes her way to the kitchen.

She wouldn't be running with Steve this morning. He'd mentioned the other day that since they were leaving pretty early, they'd hold off on a run.

Opening the fridge, Kate grabs the carton of orange juice before leaning around the door to grab a banana from the fruit bowl.

"Are you excited?"

A banana isn't exactly a go-to weapon, but Kate turns fast enough with the banana ready in-hand that one might assume she could do a thing or two with the soft fruit acting as a weapon.

Natasha is seated on the couch facing away from the kitchen, peaking over the back of the cushions with a soft, and perhaps amusing smile.

If this were a training exercise I'd currently be having my ass kicked.

Kate lowers the fruit awkwardly before closing the fridge door.

"I uh" She clears her throat, realizing that she hadn't yet spoken that day and her voice was still a bit gravelly. "Not sure that's the best word for it." She mumbles.

"S'okay to be nervous." Natasha responds, getting to her feet before making her way towards the kitchen island.

Kate meets her eyes momentarily as she pours a small glass of orange juice before placing the carton back into the fridge.

Natasha leans against the counter opposite her, forearms crossed over the surface as she leans forward.

"I admit I'd be surprised if you weren't," She chuckles. "This is a big decision to make."

No need to tell me, like a fifth of me is already regretting jumping the gun.

Kate gulps down most of the orange juice before turning her attention to the banana sitting on the counter adjacent to her.

"Didn't really have the luxury of nervousness," Kate responds with a small shrug, referring back to her past in general; whether that be with the warehouse or even with SHIELD. It just wasn't a job where fear belonged. Fear gets you killed, if not makes you think selfishly and in turn get more people killed.

"A healthy dose of fear is a good thing though," Natasha counters with a small smile. "Fearlessness can be a weakness in this line of work."

This line of work.

Kate nods quietly in understanding before proceeding to eat her banana. Natasha was talking almost like this was going to be her job. That idea seemed to foreign to Kate. Have a job? Get paid? Be… treated like a normal person? It was all very foreign.

"If you have any questions, I'll try to answer any that you might have."

The offer causes Kate to look up from the half-peeled fruit in her grasp and she meets the red head's eyes for a brief time before her gaze falls again.

Questions… Do I have questions? The elevator is returning; most likely Steve.

"Not sure what to ask," Kate finally shrugs gently before chuckling; although the chuckle was more so out of nervousness than anything. The unknown that was coming her way was antagonizing.

"Well if you think of anything, let me know." Natasha tilts her head lightly to the side and Kate nods in response.

The familiar ding of the elevator sounds and Kate looks over to see Steve exiting the lift. He turns with a small smile, walking pace portraying that of the leader-esque persona that he had.

"You ready?" He asks.

Kate quickly finishes up the banana with a nod and tosses the peel in the trash before going to follow Steve back into the elevator.

"Good luck," Natasha calls, turning to face them.

Kate gives her a small smile, and catches the nod from Steve out of the corner of her eye before the doors close again and the lift begins its descent to the garage.

It's very quiet on the ride down, almost as quiet as when she first came down alone, and Kate finds herself swinging her arms behind her back, lightly grasping her wrist. She rocks subtly on her heels before glancing towards Steve momentarily.

He acts in a similar manner and Kate hears his breathing subtly change, a clear indication that he was about to speak.

"So," Steve begins, hands gripping his belt. "You ready?"

"Yeah." Kate nods eagerly, perhaps too eagerly. She needed to make it clear to Steve that she was certain about this. She'd made the decision; she couldn't back out now.

Steve gives a small smile in response and a nod before turning his eyes forward.

"That's good," He responds. "Not nervous?"

Instead of lying again, Kate gives Steve a small shrug before clearing her throat.

"Not sure what to expect, so…" Kate trails off, a couple seconds too late realizing that may not be the best thing to say to Steve. Showing uncertainty with him always led to the same outcome: he'd try to fix the problem.

"I guess I'm with you on that." Steve sighs, much to Kate's surprise as she glances at him, brow knit. "Fury didn't give me much information either."

Doesn't that just fill me with comfort. Well… While I don't necessarily trust the Director fully, he's never given me a direct reason not to trust him.

"Kate, if they ask you to do anything today- or during any of the testing - that you aren't comfortable with, just tell me, okay?"

She can hear the subtle hints of anxiety in his voice and waits a moment before responding.

"Okay," She gives him another small nod, meeting his eyes briefly before turning towards the elevator doors as they open.

Heading out towards the black SUV they kept at the Tower, Kate gets into the passenger seat and Steve follows a few seconds later, getting into the driver's seat.

The rest of chapter 37 can be found here on FFN and here on AO3. Take a peak to keep reading!

Stay healthy, stay safe, sending lots of love. <3

Masterlist Here

#marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #dad!steve rogers #Steve Rogers x Daughter!OC #clint barton #natasha romanoff #tony stark #bruce banner #nick fury #maria hill #captain america #black widow #hawkeye #iron man #hulk #shield #marvel oc #avengers oc

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keeroo92 · 4 years

Text

Welcome To The First Order

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! My discord server did an exchange, here is what I came up with. This is in the Star Wars universe, not DMC. Warnings for smut, questionable consent, restraints, and light dom/sub themes. Kylo Ren/OC but can also be Reader.

Word count - 5,401

__________

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

On a remote planet in the outer rim, a massive volcano spewed ash miles overhead, gradually dispersing to coat the landscape in a fine gray powder. The acrid tang of sulphur permeated the air and rough, black rock clearly marked more recent activity.

To the volcano’s east, a lush forest grew from the nutrient-rich soil, filled with migrant species looking for a home. The greenery extended as far as the eye could see, proving that even the most destructive forces could build a paradise.

But Kylo Ren wasn’t here to sightsee. In fact, he abhorred the scene entirely. Volcanic planets were among his most hated. They always stank, and under his heavy black cloak there was no escaping the ambient heat.

With a final, regretful glance back at his treasured command shuttle and its lovely air-conditioned cabin, the black-clad warrior sighed and turned to his task. Why couldn’t the damned Force disturbance have been on a polar planet?

Whatever. He’d find the source quickly and leave; the cause wouldn’t stay hidden long now that he was physically here. Maybe a quick stop at a balmier planet on the way back.

The newly instated Supreme Leader closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, focusing his energy on the undercurrent pulsing through the universe. He pictured it like a spiderweb, thin filaments connecting every atom in existence. A twitch here and there in the web was normal. Birth, death, conflict and unity all sent waves radiating through the network.

Yet a dark knot swirled in this sector, a shadowy stain he recognized like an echo of his own heart. It called to him through the galactic void, drawing him in like prey.

But Kylo Ren was no one’s prey.

His eyes shot open as he pinpointed the origin. It wasn’t far, maybe three kilometers east or so. A short walk, then he’d clean up whatever mess was causing the itch in his mind and leave this hellscape behind.

__________

The disturbance first appeared three weeks ago, a tiny speck in the fabric of reality that barely drew his attention. He ignored it, more focused on his new duties as the Supreme Leader, and on removing any officers who refused to accept the news. It was an annoyance, nothing more.

Yet as the days passed it grew stronger, until he found his attention wavering to prod at it during mundane meetings. The business of running the First Order was as much work as he’d expected, but he hadn’t expected it to be so tedious.

Indeed, some tasks he found so boring he missed his old position.

Eventually, his boredom became too powerful to ignore and he found himself launching his command shuttle, slipping away from his duties to investigate the strange disturbance in person. None would dare complain, now that he was Supreme Leader. If they did, they wouldn’t live to regret it.

__________

Less than a kilometer remained between him and his target. He closed his eyes to focus once more, homing in even further on the strange signature. With it so near, he had to be careful not to draw its attention or reveal his presence. The mental masks he wore only did so much, after all. Speaking of masks, he should probably don his helmet. Undoubtedly the damn thing would be stiflingly hot. Damn volcanic planets.

Luckily, there was plenty of wildlife to hide his Force signature. Snoke taught him well, better than the fool Jedi ever did. Not that it saved him, in the end. He should’ve known better than to stand in the way of progress.

There. A human, young and fierce. Female, with an ocean of Force energy running through her.

She’s been touched by the Force… This had better not turn out like Jakku.

__________

The girl bit her lip as she caught a glimpse of the dark energy approaching. True, Ren hid himself well, but she was prepared for that. Any creature within a kilometer of her camp had a Force trip-wire to alert her to any gifted intruders. A wise choice, judging by the power in the signature she detected. She knew her task wouldn’t be easy, but could she really hope to best one with such strength?

There is no emotion. There is peace.

The words of the Jedi soothed her mind, a bit. It helped keep her calm and focused, holding back the fear she’d so long denied. Emotions wouldn’t help her; they never did.

No, they tended to do the opposite. Frequently.

This isn’t helping. Gotta do something, gotta move.

Thick fabric rustled as she circled her chosen ambush site, one of many decisions she struggled not to second guess. The small area offered little in the way of natural protection, though the trees circling the clearing gave her some much-needed shade to sit in and meditate. A small tent sat under one such tree, a campfire and firewood just outside. She hadn’t brought much, but a few bags of supplies were neatly arranged on a large boulder. Her miniscule ship waited for her return on the other side of the ridge. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be left empty tomorrow.

__________

The closer he came, the more she felt him. The energy he radiated turned her stomach; a seething, roiling mass of anger and pain, guilt and despair. Sparks of light tried to break through the darkness, but they were like stars in a night sky. Drowned by the endless void surrounding them.

I wonder what my energy feels like?

Maybe she’d ask him, right before the killing blow.

At last, he came within meters of her small camp. Shadows cast by the trees and greenery helped him blend in, but a flash of motion and his dark energy marked his location like a distress beacon. Few animals remained, the air still as if the Force itself held its breath.

Her fingers itched to draw her saber and attack, but she knew better. A Jedi never strikes first. Defend, but do not attack. Even if you know your foe.

She knew of Kylo Ren. The son of legends, fallen from grace to rise in the shadow of the First Order. Once, he’d inspired hope. Now he inspired terror. Her master knew him many years ago, before his fall. One of three survivors of Ren’s desecration of the Jedi temple, Voe was the one who found her in the lower levels of Coruscant, stealing to survive and performing simple mind-tricks if she were caught. She still didn’t fully agree with her teachings, but her belly didn’t ache with hunger and she no longer slept in a gutter. It was enough, and maybe another few years would help her believe. Today her faith in the Force was a lake of still waters, but one day it would harden into a tower of crystal, never to be shaken or disrupted by the capricious winds of doubt.

At least, that’s what Master Voe told her.

The Force screamed and brought her back to the moment as a terrible red light buzzed to life. It was almost time.

__________

The clueless girl still hadn’t noticed him. She was young; her worn-out Padawan robes gave that away. Hazel eyes and a mess of shoulder-length brown hair framed a face dominated by her overly-large nose, a jagged scar running from her left cheekbone to her scalp. An ordinary looking girl, all in all.

He hid mere inches away, shrouded by a small bird’s life force. From this distance, it would be a simple task to execute her and be done with it.

But a corpse couldn’t tell him what she was doing here, or if she was causing the disturbance, not to mention how long it’d been since he got to fight. Perhaps a good duel would help relieve some of his boredom.

So, instead of executing her on the spot, he drew his saber and activated the blade, stepping out from the shadows with a casual stride.

“Hello, little Jedi,” he said.

Her eyes went wide, darting to his glowing blade and back to his masked face. Yet her Force-energy didn’t ring with alarm, much to his shock. She’d been expecting him.

“Kylo Ren… You’re not as tall as I expected,” she replied.

Not as tall?! He was six foot three, how tall did she expect him to be?

“That one I haven’t heard before. Tell me your name.”

Her arms crossed, a defiant glare entering her eyes. “No.”

He chucked, spinning his blade in a leisurely circle as he stepped closer. “An odd name, No. Your parents must have been interesting.”

Her energy twitched, a spike of irritation flowing through the Force. Excellent, she clearly didn’t have full control of her emotions. He could use that.

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Well, I have to call you something.”

Another spike, this was too easy. Hopefully she was more skilled with her saber, or this would be over far too quickly.

“The dead have no need for names,” she replied. So, she meant to kill him.

Fool.

“You lack the skill to defeat me, No.”

She smirked and drew her saber, gripping the hilt in a textbook defense hold. Third form, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“Let’s find out, or are you too much of a coward? Maybe they should call you Kylo Ran.”

Enough talk, then.

The rage that boiled in his heart, tucked away under the surface until it was needed, rose like the tide. Kylo released his hold on it and allowed it to flood his senses, empowering him with the Dark Side. It always sent a thrill up his spine to feel the heat and unending fury it held, and today was no different.

Black robes fluttered as he lunged forward to strike at the girl. Her saber barely rose in time to block his furious blow, the green blade buzzing to life inches from her body to hold his at bay.

“Tell me why you’re here and I’ll let you keep breathing,” he growled. As if to mock him, the girl took a massive breath and pushed, breaking their stalemate as she jumped back.

He didn’t give her the time to recover. A series of Force-empowered blows rained down upon her, his saber an unstoppable conduit for his wrath.

__________

Golden sparks flew from where red met green. The girl gritted her teeth and summoned a tether of Force energy to coil around her adversary’s ankle, but he nimbly stepped away. Damn, she’d have to do better than that.

“Pathetic, you’ll have to do better than that,” growled his distorted voice, as if he were in her mind.

There is no emotion.

Hazel eyes flashed as she ducked under his glowing red blade, dodging a death blow by mere centimeters and dashing back out of his range. Strands of her hair sizzled as he cut the air. She needed to be faster; he was right, she didn’t have the skill to beat him. Not in a straight fight, at least. Time to play dirty.

There is only peace.

A wave of rock-hard energy rocketed from his leather covered palm, charged with power and ill intent. She hastily matched it with one of her own, the Force clashing in a battle of will. As the invisible blasts struggled for dominance, she swiped her saber at Kylo’s arm, smirking when a thin line of pale skin revealed itself under his robes. A minuscule drop of blood leaked out a beat later.

“Who’s pathetic now?”

A low growl rumbled through his helmet and she capitalized on his rage, slashing at his head with a mighty Force-empowered strike. The glowing green blade hummed and sliced through the metal of his helmet, but he pirouetted away before she could reach his flesh. She leaped skyward for another hit, but he was too fast. A pulse of energy knocked her out of the air to land ungracefully on the grassy ground.

“You have some skill, girl, I’ll admit that,” Ren murmured.

The young Jedi scrambled to her feet as the dark visage she battled tugged the now distorted metal away from his face, revealing the features of her target. Black hair, handsome features. Eyes that burned with unrestrained power.

Voe told her what he looked like before, so she’d been prepared.

Yet to see such a young face beneath the mask that inspired terror across the galaxy still threw her off. He couldn’t be much older than she was, and already he ran the most powerful political group in existence.

“Imagine how powerful you’d be if you left behind the foolishness of the Jedi.”

Voe warned her of this, too. That he might tempt her or try to darken her light. No lie was too much when one studied the dark.

“The foolishness of the Jedi? Bold words for one with the blood of Skywalker in his veins,” she sneered back.

His face twisted, the intensity of his fury electrifying the air. It was so powerful, it set the hair on her arms on end, and she suddenly understood why this man was so widely feared. Was she about to die? Maybe mentioning his family was unwise…

The Force shifted, a current of energy building in her foe’s core. Only one thing required that much energy that she knew of.

Force lightning.

An icy chill crawled up her spine. Voe covered the technique only in passing, deeming it too early in her training to explore such a finicky ability. Mistakes could cost a young padawan her life. Wiser to train her in simpler things first, no matter how much she begged.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, her eyes focused entirely on Ren’s hands even as fear threatened to still her heart. Sparks danced between his gloved fingers, a gathering storm meant to annihilate her.

There is no death, there is the Force.

The words held little comfort. Becoming one with the Force was not her goal today.

Focus!

She released a deep breath and planted her feet, her toes curling into the soil through the thin soles of her shoes. A firm stance was key. Her body and mind needed to be in perfect unison if she were going to survive.

A howl of fury rattled through the Supreme Leader’s lips as the first arc of lightning crackled toward her. The young Jedi raised her saber to catch it and screamed back, finding strength in voicing her defiance.

Her shoulders trembled with the strain of containing such a huge amount of energy in her saber. She couldn’t hold it back much longer, soon it would overload the kyber crystal and find its way to her body. If only Ren would pause, then she could discharge it safely!

But he knew it just as well as she did, and made his move. With one hand still channeling Force-energy into a sizzling arc of lightning, he surged forward to knock her saber from her hands. A gasp split her lips and he smirked, cutting off the energy flow just before it struck her body.

She had failed.

Again.

__________

The side vent of his saber hummed angrily at her hammering pulse, the main shaft crossing over her shoulder. One wrong move, and he would decapitate her. She was at his mercy.

“Quite the troublemaker, aren’t you? It’s almost a waste to kill you.”

Her eyes revealed her fear in all its glory as he considered her. Poor little Jedi, defenseless without her Master. So afraid, mere lightning was enough to still her tongue. It almost made him laugh.

“Just do it, then! What are you waiting for?”

I spoke too soon… the only way to still her tongue is to cut it out.

He chuckled, twisting his wrist to slide the crimson blade across her collarbone. A mark of her failure, though she needn’t endure it long. “But you haven’t answered my questions yet.”

Their eyes locked and he brutishly barged past her meager mental defenses. Her mind was like a kaleidoscope, disorganized and chaotic, flooding him with useless information as her consciousness desperately tried to hide. As if there was any escape.

He saw her doubt, her curiosity and will to survive. The flame of anger that burned in her heart, the efforts she went to just to keep it concealed. He felt the hunger that once gnawed at her belly, the cool night air that kept her awake in the alleys of her home city. The sting of a firm hand when she was caught stealing, the sneer of the merchant that delivered it. The rage that fueled her instinctual first use of Jedi mind tricks, the shock when the merchant simply walked away.

The robed figure that approached her soon after, offering a different life.

Voe…?

Kylo blinked and the memories faded away. He’d assumed her master was Skywalker; who else could it be? He’d forgotten Voe was even alive. A mistake he would not repeat.

The girl’s master taught her well, but he would break through the meaningless drivel. Like the volcano that cast a shadow over the valley, he held the power to destroy all that stood before him, making room for something better to fill the void. It was not his fate to be loved, but to be feared and obeyed. This girl would be no different.

He would destroy her, and then build her into something better.

Both his black clad hands grasped her skull, his saber sheathed as he grimaced and delved deeper into her mind. Tears dripped from her wide hazel eyes but he didn’t care. Like a bantha in a china shop, he destroyed any defenses that barred his way.

You will show me.

More irrelevant memories. A lecherously smiling face, an aching dread as flesh met flesh. The sting of alcohol burning its way to her stomach, the tingle more familiar by the day. With a scolding tap of his index finger he brushed the useless recollections aside.

Show me why you are here.

There - at last. Something useful.

Her hands were clenched in her lap, the calm voice of Master Voe ringing through the small tent. Two bedrolls lied nearby, a fire pit with a pot hanging over it just outside.

“You know what will happen to you if you fail, padawan. Control your emotions, and do not allow the traitor to gain the upper hand.”

Her hands relaxed, the angle changing as she bowed her head to her Master. “I will not fail you.”

Voe must mean him. She’d been sent to take him down, it seemed. How insulting. Voe didn’t honestly think he’d fall to a padawan, did she?

Kylo drew back, releasing the girl from his cruel grip to fall to her knees and vomit. She looked so small and weak, a pawn sent as a sacrificial lamb by her pathetic Master. Voe had always been a fool, but this was a new level of stupidity.

He chuckled, smirking down at the girl wiping away her tears until she met his eyes. Brave, considering what he’d just done.

The girl glared at him and spat, lobbing a wad of vomit-tainted saliva to land on his boot. “Fuck you.”

Two words, and the laughter died on his lips. Brave, yes. But also incredibly foolish.

His hands went back to her skull, tangling in her hair and giving it a sharp tug. Her entire body shifted with the force of his pull, landing her on all fours at his feet. Where she belonged.

“You aren’t very smart, are you, girl?”

“Heh, I’ve been called worse,” she responded with an exhausted but rebellious smirk. Another yank on her hair, harder than before.

The girl bit her lip, whimpering in what he was beginning to suspect wasn’t pain. She might be the strangest padawan he’d ever seen.

“You aren’t cut from the cloth of the Jedi.”

The fact that she’d been taken on as a padawan showed how desperate the Jedi were. They were dying out, one by one. How many were left, now? Where were they hiding? He had to know, had to eradicate them properly.

“At least I didn’t murder anyone. Better fit than you were.”

The Force twitched, a flicker of pride seeping through her weakened and desecrated mind. As if she were somehow his superior. Honestly, did she even try to restrain her emotions?

He tugged her hair again, forcing her face up to look at him. The expression on her face sent a pulse of fire through his blood. That wasn’t pride he sensed; it was desperation. Her will to survive in action searching for a way to earn her next breath.

Kylo chuckled, tightening his hold on the brown strands. First a fight, now this. Perhaps volcanic planets weren’t so bad?

“You like that, don’t you? You would’ve been a terrible Jedi, No. Why stay loyal to a group that doesn’t suit you?”

The girl huffed, but she didn’t deny it. From what he’d seen in her memories, she was no stranger to darkness. What if it twisted her, just as it did to him? What if he didn’t need to kill her?

“No one else wanted my loyalty,” she murmured. “No one else wanted me.”

Oh, it was almost too easy. The thought of what he could do to her flooded his senses with heady lust, his cock twitching against his thigh. A good fight always got him excited; something about the knowledge he could’ve died but instead, proved himself strong enough to win…

Kylo Ren licked his lips. “And if someone did?”

Her lips curled into a dismissive smile, glimmers of sad amusement coming to life in her eyes. “Are you saying you want me? Here I thought you dark-siders just took what you wanted.”

The girl was born for the Dark Side. If anything, he’d have to watch his back for the blade she’d someday stick in his spine. For now, though…

Thick cables of Force energy took hold of the girl’s head and arms, freeing his hands. He knew she could break free if she wanted; her own ability to command the Force at will proved it.

Yet she simply let the tendrils do their work. She had to be exhausted, after his annihilation of her mind, but all he sensed from her thoughts was a hint of fear, perhaps a bit of curiosity. The girl wasn’t even breathing quickly, her oddly calm eyes daring him to do something. As if she wanted this.

“You want me to take what I want, is that it?”

She didn’t reply. Aggravating, he asked her a question.

“Fine. Have it your way, No.”

He couldn’t deny the thrill it gave him to see her eyes widen as he drew his lightsaber once more. With a twitch of his fingers, the cords holding her in place tightened and shifted, forcing her body to arch.

“Hold still,” he ordered, bringing the crimson blade to her hips. The fabric of her padawan robes fell away seconds later, revealing her skin to his hungry gaze.

Pink folds glistened like grass in the morning, supple flesh begging to be devoured. The girl whimpered as he drew closer, tracing his leather-clad fingers across her most sensitive spots. It’d been far too long since he indulged himself.

“So that’s what you want? The same thing as everyone else?” she sneered.

The quiver in her voice contrasted her words, but she still shouldn’t dare to speak them aloud. Oh, he couldn’t wait to break this stubborn little padawan.

He plunged a wad of Force-energy deep into her throat as he cut away the rest of her clothing. A finer display, he hadn’t seen in years; every inch of flesh he revealed brought more blood to his aching length.

“I didn’t give you permission to speak, youngling.”

Only the sound of choking responded. Through the Force, he felt her struggling airway and mounting panic. It only added to the growing heat of his need.

“Much better. Those who listen well will be rewarded.”

He narrowed his eyes and gestured, adding more invisible tendrils. These, however, held a different purpose. They slithered up from the ground, climbing her arms and legs to reach her tempting core and burrow deep within. The thick ball occupying her mouth and esophagus pulled back, allowing her to breathe almost normally. At the very least, he’d now hear her moans.

And the girl didn’t let him down, whimpering as his Force-energy explored her wet heat. Soft as velvet and dewy with arousal, her body betrayed her. No longer could she hide or pretend she didn’t want this as badly as he did.

But she probably thought him to be a gentle lover. Imbecile.

Kylo made quick work of drawing himself out, indulging in a few rapid strokes to ease his need. The threads probing and holding her body vanished, leaving her to cough as her ability to breathe was fully restored. Watching her go limp, the sound of her hacking gasps and the curve of her ass waiting for his attentions summoned the first bead of fluid from his tip.

Waste not, want not.

“Do you want more, little Jedi?” he rumbled, striding into her line of sight so she could watch him toy with his length. Pulses of lust radiated from her mind, too powerful to restrain. “Come have a taste, then.”

The girl’s hooded hazel eyes watched him carefully, suspicion tainting the urges vying for control. Enough delay; he’d just have to teach her.

A single, thick rope of energy wrapped around her slim neck and dragged her to him, angling her throat and forcing her jaw open to envelop his length. Kylo groaned, the feel of her mouth a tantalizing precursor to satisfaction. So warm and wet…

He tangled his hands in her hair, releasing the tendril to take over. A snap of his hips drew a lewd moan from his lips and a quiet whine from hers.

“Ah, come now, No. You like the taste, don’t you? I can tell,” he growled.

Indeed, her mind was racing, projecting a craving for more. At his words, she hummed and pressed her tongue to his shaft, closing her eyes and savoring his flavor. Truly, the Force was a wonderful thing.

But as Supreme Leader, he couldn’t grant her what she wanted so easily. She had to earn it.

Kylo tugged her face against his hips, rolling into her throat over and over as she gagged on his girth. Saliva dribbled from the corner of her lips and shimmered on his cock. She looked quite appealing this way, her body bare and glowing in midday sunlight, wrapped around him and at his mercy.

He smirked and coils of power pulled her off the ground, spreading her arms and legs like a starfish. To her credit, the girls only moaned and slid her tongue across his slit, seemingly not caring one way or the other. She learned fast.

The dark warrior withdrew and hummed, releasing her skull to pat her head like a treasured pet. Glassy eyes and swollen lips glistened. “A promising start.”

A gesture of his fingers spun her around; another, and her wetness ground upon his length. Two sets of lips moaned. It was time to break the little Jedi.

“You’re mine, little Jedi,” he said roughly. Two leather-clad hands gripped her hips and spread her ass open. He spat on her back entrance and smirked as he brought a tendril to prod its way inside, simultaneously burying his length deep in her cunt.

Divine. Her walls greeted him in a tight embrace like an old friend. Panting gasps spilled from her lips as he began to move, humming as her body refused to let him go.

“All mine. You serve a new Master now,” he said. “Tell me, girl. Say it!”

He snapped back inside, slapping his flesh against hers. The cord of energy in her ass pulsed in time with his motions, rubbing against his head deep within. Curses rang forth, but she denied him what he demanded. Not for long.

The wet slap of his motions didn’t pause as his Force-tendrils released her arms, moving to tease at her chest. Flicking and rolling, kneading and squeezing, leaving bruises across her curves as a reminder of her new position.

“Say it! Who is your Master?”

“Ah-! No!”

Ren quickened his pace and dragged one gloved hand lower, inching closer to her clit. A promise, of sorts. Obedience would be rewarded. Rebellion brought nothing but pain. “Say it.”

Her hands dug into the gritty ground, clenching just as they had in her memory. “No!”

He pinched her tiny bundle of nerves, brutishly tight. Her body flinched away, a yelp of pain rewarding his abuse. Force-energy whipped across her spine and stomach, leaving angry red lines in their wake. Again and again, he thrust against her drenched core. Creamy fluid dotted his trousers, as if he needed more proof of her lust.

“You’re a filthy little whore, aren’t you? Jedi slut!”

With her so distracted, it was simple to enter her mind yet again. Her skin was on fire, electric pulses singing across her nerves as she was filled beyond what she’d ever experienced before. The girl was drowning in arousal, teetering on the edge of surrender. Stubborn fool.

He opened his own mind, just enough to let images of his plans for her through. He’d have her in chains, naked and at his disposal at all times. If she obeyed, perhaps he’d allow her to cum. A collar would do wonders for her neck. Someday, she might earn a place by his throne, ready to please him or his more competent generals. He might even have her pleasure him while he met with them.

He was going to destroy her, of that there was no doubt. All she had to decide was if she would become something better in the wreckage of her former life.

“Who is your Master?”

“Fu- fuck!” she cried, her voice close to breaking. “K- Kylo Ren! Kylo Ren is my Master!”

Kylo smirked and took hold of her shoulder, pulling out just long enough to get her on her back. He lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders, granting him an angle too perfect to waste. With each roll of his hips, he dragged moans from her lips and sweat from her pleasure-furrowed brow. Her eyes were hazy, but coherent enough to meet his.

His hands flew to her throat and squeezed, stealing the air from her lungs as he fucked her. The fire in his belly would soon erupt, engulfing him in bliss. Even without the Force, he knew she was close too.

“Cum for your Master, girl!”

The black-clad man rubbed one last thread of Force-energy against her swollen clit, his hands tightening on her neck and his hips slamming into hers. The velveteen walls caressing his cock fluttered, an obscene moan pushing its way from her mouth as she arced against him. Her signature flared white-hot and shoved him over the edge.

Heat crashed from his tip, spilling his seed deep within. Kylo gasped, his hips stuttering as his mouth fell open in overwhelming perfection. Her body milked every last drop from his, clenching and releasing in turns long after he was spent.

At last, the girl fell still, save for her heaving chest. He gave her neck one last squeeze; a reminder before he pulled away.

She didn’t move as he fixed his pants. Fluid spilled from her core onto the dirt and red lines crossed over her stomach, bruises forming on her limbs and throat. Broken. Ready to be rebuilt.

But first…

“Tell me your name, girl.”

She sighed and struggled to sit up. Her clothes were beyond repair, scraps of cloth littering the clearing around them but she gathered what she could anyway. “What does it matter?”

He chuckled. “I suppose it doesn’t. Tell me anyway.”

She looked away, covering what she could with little success. It was better this way, in his opinion. Padawan robes were hideous, and he did so enjoy gazing at the marks he left behind.

“It’s Coriandra,” she said. “Like the spice.”

A smirk twisted his lips. A far better name than No. “Welcome to the First Order, Coriandra.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #star wars #kylo ren #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren/oc #spicy #My writing #happy valentine's day 2020

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shimmershaewrites · 4 years

Text

Waltzing's for Dreamers, Chapter 25 (a Walking Dead story, Caryl AU).

Title: Waltzing's for Dreamers

Rating: PG?

Warnings: some adult language, angst.

Characters/Pairings: Carol/Daryl, Sophia, OC, Lily Chambler, Meghan Chambler, Michonne, mentions of Aaron, Tara Chambler, Andrea Harrison, Andre, others.

Author's Note: so sorry for the delay on this story. I've been blocked so horribly and just down in general about my writing. This isn't my best chapter by any means, and not quite what I envisioned when I first drew it up, but words have been so hard for me to come by lately that it's a relief just to put it out there. Enjoy anyway?

Waltzing’s for Dreamers

Seven years after Vegas. Middle of March. The immediate aftermath of Daryl seeing Sophia again.

“Coming to the game, Mr. Dixon?”

Daryl’s still reeling. Trapped inside one of them kaleidoscopes, inside a jumbled rainbow of colors and shifting emotions that only gets more and more distorted with each twist so he don’t answer. Isn’t capable of it really. Just lets the drone of the boy’s words go in one ear and out the other while he grips his steering wheel with blanched fingers.

“Zach. Leave the man alone.”

“Yeah, Zach. He look like he wants to watch us get our asses beat?”

“Who says we’re going to get our asses beat?”

“Coach.”

“Coach wouldn’t say that.”

“He put it in different words. But he definitely said it.”

“Shut up, Jimmy. Nobody asked you anyway.”

The boys argue back and forth, but it’s white noise to Daryl. He’s lost inside his own head, struggling to put together the pieces of a long-shelved puzzle. Just when he feels like he almost has it, has the elusive lynchpin within his grasp, the last bell rings and kids spill out of the school in every direction like ants scurrying to collect crumbs, jolting him rudely back into the moment. “Game’s near Woodbury?”

“Yeah, Man. You coming?”

“Dude looks like death, Gage. Leave him alone.”

“Pfft. Whatever. Just forget it. We’re running late as it is.”

Their voices fade the further they get away but his little girl’s rings loud and clear in Daryl’s recent memory. Carol’s joins it and another small voice, a voice he doesn’t recognize but somehow knows all the same.

“I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead ‘cause no way would my daddy leave me.”

“Sophia. Sweetheart. Not here. Not now. Your brother…”

Carol had frozen at his sharp intake of breath, her blue sky eyes stormy as she’d taken the small boy by the shoulders and tried to steer him away. Tried to distract him from the train wreck unfolding before him, the screech and ear-splitting crash of their past colliding with the painful, harsh reality of their present.

“Nobody.”

That single word, cloaked in ‘Phia’s tears as it had been, still feels like a knife lodged deep in Daryl’s floundering heart. Still echoes in his ears. Haunts him. But it’d been Carol’s softly uttered addition that’d twisted the knife and even now has his life’s blood flowing out of him in a painful torrent. Has him all out of sorts and all but oblivious to the rest of the still moving world around him.

“Nobody that you know, Baby. C’mon. Let’s get you home okay? You and Sis both. Sophia?”

“Mr. Dixon?”

“I didn’t…”

“Mr. Dixon? Can you hear me?”

Cool fingers circle his wrist, discreetly checking his pulse before moving to calmly loosen his death grip on the steering wheel, and the fog finally lifts enough for Daryl to focus. Clarity sharpens his mind but also heightens the grief—and budding anger—that he feels and he turns his gaze to the woman eyeing him with muted concern. He recognizes her as the school nurse. Has had to send more than one of his dumbass students her way in the short time he’s been at this gig. Seen her be friendly with Carol and knows where her sympathies lie. Still. He feels the overwhelming need to explain himself. “I didn’t know. I thought…”

Lily cuts him off with a subtle shake of her head and a suggestion for the young daughter that lingers uncertainly behind her. “Meghan, why don’t you run back inside? Grab something to drink for Mr. Dixon? You were right. He doesn’t look so good.” When the little girl has scampered away and the bus carrying the baseball team is gone along with most of the cars in the parking lot, she finally speaks again. “My sister Tara babysits for Carol. Our daughters are friends, Mr. Dixon. Sophia’s older, but they tell each other everything. Any explanations you think you have for abandoning your family? Sophia and Carol deserve to hear them from you. Understood?”

A ragged sigh whistles past Daryl’s lips and he blinks against the sting in his eyes. “’Phia ain’t in the place to hear nothing I say.”

Lily’s expression softens but she holds her tongue.

Daryl nods to himself and drums still nerveless fingertips against his steering wheel as he gazes straight ahead. “Tell your girl thanks for me, but I got somewhere I have to be.”

Lily stops him with a hand on his arm and an inherent plea in the way she says his name. “Mr. Dixon.”

Daryl ducks his head shamefully. “Mr. Dixon was a man didn’t deserve to be called Daddy. Guess I’m more like the old man than I thought. Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna bother them. Got more sense than that.” He doesn’t meet her eyes again, afraid of the pity that renders her voice a quiet murmur.

“Maybe she’s not ready to hear you now, but if I know Sophia at all? Someday she will be.”

“Someday. Yeah, maybe.”

Turning his key in the ignition, Daryl brings his old truck to life and its cantankerous rumble is so loud Lily almost has to shout to be heard.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Gotta be.”

“At least stay until Meghan gets back with your drink.”

“Done told you…”

“You got somewhere to be. I know. I heard you. Just. I know it doesn’t mean much coming from somebody you barely know. But don’t hurt them even more by doing something stupid.”

Daryl mulls over her words. Tries desperately to take them to heart as the truck eats up the miles between King County and Woodbury. To push the building anger he feels away with middling results. Welcome distraction comes when he passes an athletic complex halfway there. Sees the King County baseball coach running practice drills with the boys before the big game and winces because he’s gotten to know the man somewhat. Aaron’s a good guy. Another one of Carol’s friends and coworkers. Earnest. Hard working. Friendly and welcoming to a fault. Ill-suited to coaching but out there anyway, determined to turn lemons into lemonade, to make something positive out of something negative when Daryl aches for nothing more in that moment than a confrontation and some answers.

“Sophia. Sweetheart. Not here. Not now. Your brother…”

He repeats Lily’s sensible words as a mantra, even as the puzzle pieces start to fall into place. The harder the fist around his heart squeezes, the hotter his blood starts to boil. Her brother? But Andrea…

“Nobody that you know, Baby. C’mon. Let’s get you home okay? You and Sis both. Sophia?”

By the time he pulls into the Woodbury parking lot, he’s at fever pitch again. The truck has barely lurched to a stop before he’s jumping out of it and slamming the door, striding to the front entrance and a security guard that immediately diagnoses him a threat, abandoning his post to prevent Daryl from going any further.

“Sir. Do you have an appointment?”

Daryl blatantly ignores his question. Indignantly huffs a half-truth as he deftly sidesteps the man. Woman had been quick to shove those divorce papers under his nose. “I’m here to see my lawyer. We go way back. Don’t need no appointment.”

“Sir,” the man repeats calmly. “I’m going to need you to stop where you’re at and show me your hands. Keep them where I can see them while I verify a few things. Do that and if your lawyer’s receptive to seeing you without an appointment, we’ll go from there.”

Sighing in resignation, Daryl agrees and holds his hands out to his sides. “Fine. What you need to know?”

“You can start by giving me your name and who you’re here to see.”

Some fifteen minutes later, when his anger’s cooled considerably and the pain and devastation of all he’s missed has begun to sink back in deep, Daryl looks up from the weary study of his worn boots when he hears a familiar voice. It doesn’t belong to the person he expected or wanted to see. Instead, it belongs to Michonne, and one look at the grave expression the woman wears has him swallowing hard because she knows. He doesn’t know how much she knows or when she found it out, but betrayal hangs low and heavy around her shoulders too. “She too much a coward to face me herself?”

Michonne’s lips pinch into a trembling, disappointed frown before she sucks in a shaky breath. Her eyes never straying from his, she addresses the guard that waits patiently nearby. “It’s okay, DJ. Daryl’s good people. He’s just been hit with a bit of upsetting news today.”

“Sorry, Man,” DJ apologizes. “Hope you know I was just doing my job.”

As soon as they’re alone, Michonne allows Daryl only a brief glimpse of the disappointed tears in her eyes before straightening her shoulders and clearing her throat. “I understand…”

“No,” Daryl instantly interjects through gritted teeth. “You don’t.”

Nodding to concede his point, she begins again. “I know you’ve just been blindsided. It’s not exactly the same, but I have too. Be that as it may, there’s a little boy behind those doors, my little boy, and I know none of us right now understand this whole mess, but Andre? Daryl, it makes even less sense to him. Do you get that? One minute his mama and Aunt Andrea were happy and laughing. The next? The next they’re…they’re not.”

“I’m sorry, ’Chonne. But…”

“But nothing, Daryl.” Impassioned now, Michonne defends Andrea. On one count at least. “Andrea wanted to come out here. She wanted to talk to you herself. I convinced her not to. Me. Because she was the only one that could console my son. So please. Remember that. Think of him before you storm in there dead set on getting your pound of flesh. Okay? Think of him and treat him the same way you’d treat the son you just found out about.”

Daryl’s throat grows tight again and the tears that had stung his eyes earlier return with a vengeance, streaming unnoticed down his cheeks. Hoarsely, he pleads with Michonne to understand. “My boy, ‘Chonne. I didn’t know. She told me, no, she let me think he died. Even worse…I want some answers, goddammit.”

Michonne grabs his hand, offers herself up as an anchor of sorts. Something steady to hang on to in the onslaught of emotion. “And if they don’t satisfy you? We can’t go back, Daryl. Only forward. What then?”

“Got no fuckin’ clue, but don’t I deserve the chance to figure that out for myself? And to do that, I need to talk to Andrea.”

“Okay. Follow me. We’ll get you your answers.”

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bangtann-bangdamn · 5 years

Text

Isle of Love

Day One

Part One: Arrival

On this island paradise, YOU get to call the shots. Will you be happily coupled up? Or will you find yourself with a one-way ticket home?

There’s only one way to find out… Vote!

Tag list: @hoseoksdior @seokinkjin @sugakookieswithmytae @milk-mochi @annxo-universe @musiccontrolsmysoul @lilacdreams-00 @dreamcatcherjiah @mrsjeon99 @taeshuworld @lofihope @lylanie12 @joanc24 @salty-for-suga

If you want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask!

~♥~

Welcome to the Isle of Love! During your stay, you can guarantee perfect weather all day long. And the icing on the cake? You might just find the love of your life! So, forget all your troubles and get ready because the summer of love is about to begin...

Ji-Ah was hot. The AC was broken, and the warm breeze was doing little to stop the sweat dripping down her back. She leant forward, peering around the passenger seat to look out the front window as the car drew closer to the villa she would be calling home.

The next few weeks were simple, Ji-Ah mused. All she had to do was stay away from civilisation. She had agreed to hand over her phone to a producer at the airport when she signed the contract for the show. She hadn’t really thought about it until this moment. Now she desperately wanted her phone to send a few photos to her sister.

Ji-Ah really wasn’t prepared for how far from civilisation the house would be. After all, the last time she had seen any other homes, or people for that matter, was an hour into their two-hour drive.

Ji-Ah gaped as the villa came into view. The house was tucked away behind a thicket of trees. She had been expecting a small, one-floor house – much like the villas she and her family had stayed in on previous holidays. But this villa was more like a mansion. Large, imposing, and incredibly beautiful. The Georgian design made it feel like it was something straight out of a fairy tale that her mother used to read to her when she was small.

The car pulled to a stop outside the building. The driver, a large middle-aged man with a kind smile, turned to her. He offered her an envelope.

“The other singletons are inside already.”

Jia-Ah made to open the envelope but the driver shook his head gently.

“That’s for when you’re inside, love.”

“‘Oh.” Ji-Ah stared down at the envelope for a second before opening the car door.

She took her time walking around to the boot and grabbing her suitcase. She had barely stepped to the side of the car when it began to drive back down the path. She waited until it was no longer in sight before turning to face the building once more.

This was it, Ji-Ah. Once she stepped inside that building, there would be no turning back. She took a deep breath, straightened her miniskirt once more, before taking her luggage and walking inside.

Instantly Ji-Ah was welcomed by the sound of voices. As she pushed open the large wooden door, she was almost blinded by how bright the inside of the villa was, light from the windows bouncing off the white walls and marble floors. Two women were talking but quickly ceased their conversation when the door opened. They turned to face Ji-Ah. The smaller of the two women squealed as she skipped over and threw her arms around Ji-Ah tightly.

“Oh, I’m so excited to meet you!” She pulled away and smiled brightly. Her pixie-like features positively glowing as she looked up at Ji-Ah. “I’m Jee.”

“Ji-Ah,” she replied softly with her own smile, hoping that she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

Ji-Ah glanced at Jee’s outfit, worrying (not for the first time) that her minimal make-up, black miniskirt and maroon blouse was more business chic than cute. From a glance, Jee’s perfect skin seemed to be free of any foundation, given that the tiny sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheekbones were visible. Only the light gloss on her lips and the thickness of her lashes told Ji-Ah that Jee had some make-up on. She was wearing a light blue t-shirt and cream shorts that stopped mid-thigh.

Ji-Ah turned to the other woman, who was inspecting her perfectly manicured nails. Her make-up was more prominent with her darkly coloured eyeshadow that was perfectly blended out and dark purple lipstick. She smirked at them both before extending her hand towards Ji-Ah.

“Sookie,” she announced, pale blue eyes boring into Ji-Ah’s. She was wearing a Nirvana t-shirt with a strategic rip that showed off her breasts and ripped black jeans.

With the introductions out of the way, Sookie turned away once more as she scanned the foyer. Ji-Ah joined her, taking in the grand double staircase in front of her with a small counter sitting between the set of stairs where two suitcases sat in front of. Ji-Ah assumed that they belonged to Jee and Sookie.

On either side of Ji-Ah were large double doors that led further into the house. Ji-Ah was tempted to pick a door and see where it led, but the butterflies in her stomach kept her feet firmly in place.

“So, do either of you know what happens next?” Jee twirled a strand of her short brunette hair around her finger.

“Nope.” Sookie went back to inspecting her nails.

“Well… The driver did hand me this envelope.” Ji-Ah held out the envelope for them both to see.

Sookie snatched it from her hand and tore into it without hesitation. She was quiet as she read the page.

“Well, what does it say!” Jee clapped her hands as she tried to peer over Sookie’s shoulder.

Sookie cleared her throat.

“Please wait for further instructions. What’s that supposed to mean?” Jee glanced towards Ji-Ah and Sookie with a frown. “Can’t we just go outside and meet them already?”

“I say we go outside and get this show on the road.” Sookie placed the letter on the counter.

“Wait! What’s the rush?” Ji-Ah held her hands out in front of her for a second before lowering them slowly back to her side.

Jee looked at Sookie with a frown before looking at Ji-Ah. “Well… it is why we’re here?”

“What do you propose, Ji-Ah?” Sookie folded her pale arms across her chest and raised her brow at Ji-Ah.

“Well...We’re going to be with each other for the next couple of weeks. Maybe we should get to know each other?” Ji-Ah said with a shrug. She looked to the floor as she waited for the girls to respond.

“OOH, you’re so right! It would be so nice to have some girl-friends to goss with!” Jee clapped her hands together as she bounced slightly on her toes. “What do you say, Sookie?”

Sookie rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine. What do you want to know?”

Ji-Ah considered it for a moment before asking, “Are you looking for anything in particular?” When neither girl spoke up, Ji-Ah added: “in the guys, I mean.”

Jee tapped her index finger against her chin as she thought. “I want someone… who will sweep me off my feet – metaphorically and literally! I want him to be able to bench press me.” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hands.

“How old are you?” Sookie scrunched up her face as she looked at Jee.

Jee’s face dropped. “Nineteen.”

“Just great.” Sookie rolled her eyes as she turned slightly away from Jee.

“What about you, Sookie?” Ji-Ah asked, mostly to distract them both and break the slight tension that now filled the air. “What kind of guy are you after?”

Sookie shrugged. “I’ll let you know when I see it.”

“What about you, Ji-Ah? What’s your type?”

Ji-Ah hesitates, playing with her ring as she thought about what she’s after in a romantic partner. Her ex had been charismatic, the life of the party. He was easy to be around, and she had never once felt like things had been strained.

And then Ji-Ah had come home one evening to find him in bed with her best friend.

“I want someone who takes charge but is not an awful flirt.”

“Oh, god, yes.” Sookie smiled at Ji-Ah. “I can’t stand it when a guy doesn’t know what he wants in life, and the constant flirting? Please.”

“What’s wrong with flirting?” Jee asked, her eyes wide as she glanced between the two girls.

“Um, everything? If he flirts with anything with breasts, then it’s as good as him cheating on you.” Sookie smiled down at Jee. “But don’t worry, you’re still young. You have all of that to figure out for yourself.”

“That’s, um, that’s not actually what I mean by ‘awful flirt’.” Ji-Ah kept her voice quiet, but the two girls still heard.

Sookie frowned. “Then what did you mean?”

“I meant, I like it when they’re not, you know, an awful flirt.” Ji-Ah shrugged.

“So, you like a guy with a bit of banter!” Jee squealed. “Isn’t that the best thing, when sparks fly, and you go back and forth with the flirting?”

Sookie scoffed but didn’t say a word. Jee was about to open her mouth when a loud ding came from the counter.

“The phones!” Jee skipped towards the counter and grabbed all three phones.

Each of the phones was cased in clear plastic with their names written in an elegant font. Jee passed the phones out to the girls. Ji-Ah pressed the unlock button, but no notifications were waiting for her.

“It’s me,” Sookie announced.

“Finally.” Sookie tucked her phone into her jean’s pocket before turning on her heel and walking out of the room.

“Come on, Ji-Ah!” Jee quickly followed, skipping as she let out a little cheer.

Ji-Ah took a moment to collect herself. She knew that this was the moment that would change everything. The potential of her true love waiting outside in the garden was high, and she really wasn’t sure if she was ready to meet him. She dragged her feet as she turned left and made her way through the door and walked into the large lounge. There was no tv, only a small well-stocked bar to her left, large comfortable looking white sofas that looked ready to engulf Ji-Ah the moment she sat down on them in front of her, a grand piano tucked in the corner and large patio doors to her right. It was cosy, although Ji-Ah couldn’t help but feel like there was no character in the room, despite the beach photos adorned on the wall.

Ji-Ah took a deep breath before opening the patio doors and walking outside. The garden was smaller than she expected, but then again, she hadn’t expected it to be so close to the edge of the cliff. The infinity pool took up most of the garden, a couple of day beds stood against the house, and a small decking area was in front of a small pool house that had a fire-pit and some sofas. It was there that Ji-Ah found the group.

Jee stood and waved as Ji-Ah made her way over.

“Ji-Ah, meet the guys!”

They all rose as she stepped onto the decking. The first guy had thick brown hair, and a bright smile as he extended his hand. He wore light blue shorts with a plain white tank-top and an open blue plaid shirt.

“Hosoek. It was Ji-Ah, right?”

“Yeah.” Ji-Ah lightly shook his hand with her head bowed before turning to the next guy.

He was shorter than the first, with blonde hair that almost covered his eyes. He didn’t smile at Ji-Ah, nor did he extend his hand towards her. Instead, he bowed his head, hand running down his white shirt as if to smooth it.

“Yoongi,” he announced, his voice a lot deeper than Ji-Ah was expecting. He sat back down immediately.

The next man pulled Ji-Ah into a tight hug.

He was the shortest of the four guys, but what he lacked in height he made up for in energy. As he pulled away from her, he ran a hand through his dyed grey hair and smiled.

“I’m Jimin. It’s so nice to meet you, Ji-Ah.”

Ji-Ah bowed her head towards him. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Ji-Ah turned towards the last guy. He stood staring with wide eyes but didn’t make an effort to move. He looked younger than the other guys, but Ji-Ah couldn’t be sure about his age. He could easily be as young as Jee, with his boyish features.

“Hello.” Ji-Ah smiled, offering him a little wave.

He continued to stare until Jimin hit him in the arm.

“Oh, um… I’m uh, Jungkook.” He bowed low, and Ji-Ah had to suppress the urge to giggle.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.” She smiled.

“So now that we’re all acquainted, what happens next?” Hoseok sat back down.

"We get to know one another." Sookie smiled as she took a seat next to him, her leg brushing against his. Ji-Ah can’t help but think that Sookie had already made up her mind about who she was going to pursue when Sookie brushed her hair behind her ear and fluttered her lashes at him.

Jee stood with Jungkook and Jimin, smiling shyly as Jimin animatedly told them a story with a bright smile.

Yoongi sat on the other side of Hoseok with his eyes closed and his face turned towards the sun. Ji-Ah contemplated talking to him when the phone in her hand rung.

“I have a message!” She said quietly at first, then louder as she skimmed the text.

“Well, are you going to share with the group?” Sookie rolled her eyes.

“Free time? Sweet! Want to check out the house?” Jimin turned to Jungkook, already moving towards the door.

Jungkook grinned as he followed Jimin.

Jee clapped her hands as she skipped to catch up with them. “Don’t forget about me!”

Yoongi sighed loudly as he rose from his seat. He didn’t give any of them a second glance as he brushed past Ji-Ah and made his way towards one of the day-beds to lie down on.

Sookie quickly turned back to Hosoek on the sofa and continued to speak to him quietly.

~♥~

Voting now closed!

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years

Text

A Yandere!Oc/Oc commission for a lovely anonymous user. I had to keep reminding myself that Lucifer was, in fact, not a fallen angel and that I probably shouldn’t write him as such.

Word Count: ~2000

She didn’t like being so exposed.

Lucia never felt comfortable, but she could normally find somewhere to hide until the feeling of eyes burning into her passed. It was embarrassing, irritating, wrong, but it was something she could live with. However, her methods didn’t work when she was outside, sitting across from her sister in an overly-ornate cafe, trying to look like she wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack. It was a strained effort, though, only adding to her stress.

And, of course, Elvina noticed. Big Sister Intuition, she guessed. “Hey, are you still listening?” She asked, her voice soft but firm. With some hesitation, Lucia nodded, and Elvina pursed her lips. She didn’t believe the younger girl. To be fair, Lucia didn’t believe herself, either. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I could always call things off, tell him there was an emergency.” Elvina paused, doing her best to look sympathetic. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

“I know…” Lucia trailed off, considering the idea of just running and finding somewhere safe. It would be easier, better. But, she couldn’t keep doing the same thing forever. It was why she’d let Elvina drag her out this far. “What’s your friend like? I can’t say I have high expectations for someone named… what was it? Lucifer?”

“Trust me, neither did I,” Elvina laughed, stirring one of the drinks in front of her. They’d been sitting there long enough for lemonades and teas to start building up. “But, he’s nice. A bit odd, but relaxed. Just try not to let the staring freak you out.” Lucia moved to ask what she meant, but Elvina glanced over her shoulder before she could, waving towards one of the approaching strangers. “Oh, and don’t let the… don’t let him intimidate you.”

Again, Lucia raised an eyebrow, trying to regain her sister’s attention. “Hold on, what do you-”

Before she could ask the question properly, a hand clamped itself down on her shoulder, cold skin meeting her own. It took most of her self-restraint not to scream, or to rip the stranger’s hand away from her, or to get up and march out of that restaurant while she still had the chance. With a shallow, shaky breath, she twisted around to meet their eyes, a greeting catching in her throat.

Lucifer was exactly like Elvina had described him. Tall, glowering, eyes scanning over her smaller form with a measured apathy. She’d expected a fake smile, some form of acknowledgment. But, he stayed silent, just moving sit in the empty seat next to Elvina, who’d managed to keep up a warm grin.

“Thanks for waiting, class ran long. New projects and shit, you know how it is.” Lucifer gestured to the camera-bad hanging from his shoulder, his voice as flat as Lucia’d expected. Sensing the tension, Elvina drove her elbow into Lucifer’s side, nodding towards Lucia. Lucifer didn’t respond quickly, his eyes only narrowing as he met Lucia’s. “Who the fuck are you?”

Lucia had to bite her lip to keep from frowning, an insult fighting against an apology in her mind. “I’m her sister, Lucia. Remind me, which pit of hell did you crawl out of?”

Finally, finally, his neutral expression broke, the faintest hint of a smirk ghosting over his lips. Slowly, he extended a hand, and Lucia just crossed her arms. Lucifer shrugged it off easily, his expression softening ever so slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, then.”

Someone was watching her. That, Lucia knew.

As someone who hated being out in public as much as she did, she’d gotten used to telling when someone was staring in her direction. It never faded. That unique, burning sensation that came with a stranger’s attention. If she’d been out during the day, she might’ve brushed it off. But when she was a poorly put-together mess, just trying to get some emergency supplies from a local grocery store at some ungodly hour of the morning, the feeling was harder to shake.

Reluctantly, she glanced down the narrow aisle, looking for any obvious creeps or zoned-out wanderers. There were a few people scattered around, a couple in the same situation as her and a shop clerk who seemed to be too far into his shift to care about much of anything, but the only person who didn’t seem preoccupied was a taller man, the very definition of suspicion. Black hoodie and all. Still, Lucia managed to relax once she saw the familiar camera bag slung over his shoulder.

For a moment, she looked towards the door, wondering if she could just abandon the few items in her arms and leave. It was a very, very tempting idea, one that she’d have easily carried through if she wasn’t running on less than an hour of sleep. But, the deprivation gave her a sense of confidence. Enough to tell herself that this would be good for her, and enough to do something dumb. Like approaching a near-stranger in a nearly empty store, only a few hours before sunrise.

She waited until Lucifer looked toward her again, before turning to face him. The sudden assertion seemed to catch him off guard, letting Lucia approach without any sarcastic comment or odd looks. Her smile was a little forced, but she hoped the lightness in her voice made up for it. “Were you staring at me?”

“Well… kinda, yeah,” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. It was an uncharacteristically sheepish gesture, one she wasn’t sure she trusted. His eyes fell to the phone clutched in his hand, its camera still visible open. “I might’ve gotten carried away.”

Lucia, once again, tried to evaluate how much time it’d take to sprint to the door. “And that’s supposed to mean…”

“I was taking pictures of you, obviously.” The words were said too casually, too comfortably. Like following someone around and taking candid shots was just something people did on a regular basis. “I tend to document people, usually the ones I like,” He explained, still acting like nothing was wrong. “I saw you walking around, and... well, one thing led to another. I could delete them, if it bothers you.”

Despite herself, Lucia blushed, accusations playing on her tongue before fizzling out. It wasn’t a compliment, but it was the closest thing she’d gotten to one in a while. With her eyes focused to on the ground, she nodded, fighting back the urge to have faith in her sister’s choice of friends. “It does. Just get rid of them, and I won’t tell Elvina about this.”

“Wouldn’t want to get another one of her lectures,” Lucifer chuckled, his eyes never leaving his phone. Lucia would absolutely be telling Elvina about this, but he didn’t need to know that. And right now, she just wanted to get as far away from the blonde as humanly possible. Without another word, she took her leave, rushing to just get out of the store and go home.

Meanwhile, Lucifer waited in the same spot, taking a deep breath and trying frantically not to look like deleting those blurry, out of focus shots bothered him. He never liked it, people telling him what to do. And he liked having to get rid of his possessions even less. He wasn’t mad, just… frustrated. He was going to have to have to find her tomorrow, if only to regain what he’d lost. It’d be a waste of an hour, if he was lucky. It’d be a waste of a day, if he wasn’t.

The sound of automatic doors opening drew him out of his thoughts, and he briefly caught a glace of long, brown hair turning the corner onto a darker sidestreet. One without lamposts, and other people. If he could get the lighting right…

Reluctantly, Lucifer dropped the empty basket in his left hand, walking out of the store as nonchalantly as he could. Maybe, he wouldn’t have to wait until the next morning for something he earned.

While his actions didn’t feel right, they didn’t necessarily feel wrong, either. Maybe it was just how easy all of this was, or maybe Lucifer had over-estimated the sway of his own moral compass.

He went undetected while following Lucia, and even if she did see him, she didn’t seem to think much of it. Lucia never remembered to lock the windows on the rare occasion when she left the house, allowing Lucifer to slip in and out without troubling himself with making a spare key (not that he would need to, since Elvina already kept one under her welcome mat). It was all so easy, too easy. But, that’s what Lucifer liked about it. It was peaceful, quiet, tranquil. Lucifer didn’t have to think about why he finally smiled while taking picture after picture of his favorite muse, nor did he have to mull over the reasons why he seemed to like her so much.

He liked her. The thought itself was foreign, strange. Lucifer put it out of his mind as quickly as he could.

There was her shyness, too. He’d had a handful of opportunities to go through countless journals of hers, and all of them centered around one thing. How alone she felt, how isolated she was despite being surrounded by people. Both of them struggled with communication, so that wasn’t a surprise. That’d never bothered Lucifer, but he could still help her, relate to her. He was alone too! But, if they just got an opportunity to talk to each other, he knew she’d feel the same way.

It was something that made Lucifer’s heart speed up, taking his mind away from the mess of wires and nearly microscopic chips in his hand. It hadn’t been surprising to find out that the sisters had a mess of security cameras in every corner of their small home, but it only made things more convenient. He’d always had to be so careful to avoid them, but if this worked out as well as he hoped it would, breaking-in wouldn’t be necessary. All he’d have to do is click a few buttons, and he’d have just as much access to the feed as Lucia or Elvina did.

And, if this didn’t work, he’d be arrested.

Still, the thought of a real, live recording made up for it. Just the thought that he’d be able to see Lucia, regardless of how safe she thought she was, thrilled him, more than it should have. There wouldn’t be any boundaries between them, no fear, no limits. It wasn’t real contact. but it was the best he’d get, for now.

Lucifer let out a short laugh, snapping the last panel back into place. Lucia would get home in a little over an hour, so he had time to spare. Another visit to her room couldn’t hurt, could it?

He wanted more, it was undeniable.

Watching from a distance was great, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel someone next to him, to see Lucia, and talk to her, and see if he could ever feel the same way. He knew that it was a strange progression... from a fixation, to an itch, to a real, genuine need, but... that’s what love is supposed to be like, isn’t it?

Fast-paced, and overwhelming, and so, so one-sided. Beautiful, in a way that nearly stopped his heart. Just like how his parents loved each other, at least before he stopped being allowed to see his mother...

But, this would be an improvement! For both of them! They’d care of each other, and they would be so, so perfect together.

Of course, Lucifer knew he’d have to give her some time to come around. His family had a ‘summer cabin’, a practically abandoned building not-too-far from the city where they’d be able to stay until Lucia got comfortable around him. It’d be temporary, and once she understood, he knew they’d get along perfectly! It wasn’t like he would ever hurt something he took so much comfort in, and she had to appreciate that level of restraint.

Maybe he’d even get a few pictures of her smiling. He’d always liked her smile.

#yandere #yandere x oc #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #yandere scenerio #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #writing commission #commission #yandere commission #possessive #obsessive #obsesion #jealousy

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elyssebeeart · 5 years

Text

Requiem’s End

Fandom: Transformers (Universe: Movie/Bay!verse) Rating: G Word count: ~3.3k Warnings: Death mentions Summary: Not long after the events of The Last Knight the Autobots travel to Cuba, a designated sanctuary for their kind. There they hope to reunite with old comrades and surviving members before returning to Cybertron. However, the reunion isn’t entirely sparkwarming. Disclaimer: This is to bridge the last movie and the hinted events of the [cancelled?] next film and make sense of some plotholes/unexplained things throughout the past 3 films (Dark of the Moon, Age of Extinction, The Last Knight) while keeping comic happenings/backstory in mind. Also it includes a couple of OCs who have full backstories the cinematic verse: Fyreant (c) me and Ravebreaker (c) @pumpkinachai (On Deviantart, Pending Ao3)

“Shouldn’t we be gettin’ a welcome party or somethin’? We’re war heroes, y’know.” Crosshairs complained loudly in his Cockney accent, looking unimpressed at their apparent new home as he transformed from his alt-mode. The green Autobot paratrooper bit at his dentapick in annoyance, “Sanctuary nothin’, this is punishment. Why we here again? Thought we’d be headin’ for Cybertron lickety-split but it’s been four days!”

“Qui vivra verra. Be patient, mon amie.” Hot Rod encouraged, transforming next to him. The sleek black robot with orange accents tried his best to interpret his unshakable French accent, “You might like what’s inside, no? Might like it here.”

“Anyone home?” Drift inquired as he shifted to bipedal mode, the red samurai-esque robot tilting his head. “Perhaps we got the place wrong?”

“Shh, quiet you lot. I’ve been dying to do this.” Their burly comrade, Hound, hushed as he rolled up and transformed as well. He grabbed a grenade off his belt and chucked it into the open building, calling out, “Fire in the hole!”

There was no sound for a few moments before banging and clattering was heard followed by a string of curses as a blue robot with a blue visor scrambled outside, shouting in a southern accent, “Slag it! Who in the Pit thought it was a funny idea!? Which one of you hooligans did it? I swear-”

“Topspin, there ya are. Almost didn’t recognize ya with that new look of yours, nearly took ya for Leadfoot.” Hound identified the fellow Autobot, leaning back in satisfaction as he crossed his arms. “Getting a bit rusty are we?”

“Hound, you ole dog! You tryin’ to frag me?” Topspin’s demeanor instantly changed to one of fondness as he saw the culprit. “And I got a mod in Lead’s memory, got a problem?”

“No problem. And there ain’t be no trying if I did. Didn’t ya notice the pin wasn’t pulled?”

“‘Course! I’m not blind, you piece of slag. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t about to frag someone.”

The two mechs proceeded to clasp arms affectionately before giving each other a friendly punch. Topspin let out a laugh, slapping Hound on the back, “Looks like you made it to Cuba in one piece! I’m never sure who’s going to end up on my doorstep; I heard Prime’s broadcast, guess radio silence is over.”

“It’s not like ya to miss out on a fight let alone multiple battles. Didn’t take ya much for a ‘Bot looking for retirement.”

“Yeah neither did I but losin’ my Wrecker crew and gettin’ wounded got me thinkin’. Then my buddy Simmons hooked me up and here I am! Still tryin’ to get him to tan those pasty legs of his; they could blind somebody.”

“Greetings, Topspin.” Drift bowed politely to the uncouth robot. “It is good to see you again. Are you alone?”

“Hah, hell naw. Wish I was sometimes, hold on. Yo!” Topspin shouted as he turned toward another building nearby, letting out a sharp whistle. “We’ve got company, get on out here. Vámonos!”

“You know, I don’t recall you ever being made the boss.” A young husky voice called in a mocking tone, “Maybe you should get your head examined.”

“He forgets that I’m nearly as old as him and still tries to bully; his CPU must be slipping.” Another voice replied, sounding a bit older and more relaxed. “Ah, well. We just gotta roll with the music.”

“If he has any part of his CPU left. I think he does most of his cognation through his-.”

“Whoa momma! Thank you Cybertron!” Crosshairs exclaimed, looking up where the planet could be seen in the atmosphere as two figures emerged, revealing themselves to be an orange and red femme. He turned to look at Hot Rod with pure relief and excitement, “You’re right. I like it here.”

“Other Autobots?” The red femme looked interested, a smile on her faceplates as she looked over the small group, eyeing them through her dark visor. “Mmm, some fine looking mechs too. Primus is smiling on me today.”

The smaller orange femme was silent as her red gaze swept over the others, looking hardly cheerful, “Oh goodie.”

“Ravebreaker, Fyreant, meet my old comrades. ‘cept for that guy, I have no idea who he is.” Topspin gestured at Hot Rod who shrugged and bobbed his head, confirming it was true.

“Some we already know, rustbrain.” Fyreant drily informed to which Drift politely bowed.

“‘ey, I’ve got you in my sights and… I must say it’s a nice view. Name’s Crosshairs, numero uno.” The green mech introduced himself, grinning at the femmes as he gave a wink. “How’s about I let you two ladies have the ‘onor in being by my side. Best bot in the biz after all.”

Ravebreaker instantly let out a laugh and put a servo over her mouth. Her companion however looked far less amused.

“Excuse me, I need to go perform self mutilation to spare myself from repeating this experience.” Fyreant quipped flatly, equally unimpressed and disgusted. “Meeting you all was a real pleasure, like purging my tanks.”

“Mademoiselle! Wait, s’il vous plaît! Crosshairs, he is imbécile! Gros lourdeau!” Hot Rod protested, attempting to appease while shooting the offender a look. “I’m Hot Rod; I apologize on his behalf.”

“Ooo, I like your accent.” Ravebreaker purred, drawing closer, “Keep talking.”

“Figured Prime would be with you, being you fought together; heard all about it from Simmons.” Topspin scratched his head as he got a better look at the newcomers, ignoring his companions.

“Optimus will be here soon, he had something to take care of first. Didn’t fancy he needed a convoy. Besides, me and the boys were curious about this here place you got set up.” Hound informed, looking not concerned in the slightest.

“Blimey, speak of the devil.” Crosshairs grumbled as he looked back, “Can’t let a star like me shine for long on my own, can he?”

A distinctive looking red and blue semi-truck was heading toward the group. Next to the large vehicle a sporty yellow with black racing stripes car followed, keeping an even pace with the apparent Autobot leader.

“Wait… is that, Bumblebee?” Ravebreaker’s voice was full of disbelief seeing the oncoming Camero. “That has to be him! He made it! Fyre, he made it!”

Fyreant halted her retreat, her optics wide. Her snide tone softened slightly as she turned to see her old comrade, “It’s Bee?”

“Yeah, that’s him. Doesn’t like to leave Optimus’ side much when he can help it. That’s loyalty for ya.” Hound acknowledged, grinning at the approaching duo. “Kid’s got guts, but ya probably know that.”

As the two Autobots drew closer the yellow car sped ahead only to suddenly transform to bipedal mode. The robot did a somersault before landing on his feet, breaking out into a jog toward the others, giving a casual two finger salute as he joined the group.

“Bumblebee reporting for duty. Nice to see familiar faces; not so much the ugly mugs.” He shifted his gaze from his mech comrades to the two femmes, brightening, “Rave, Fyre, you’re here! Been what, five Earth years?”

“Y-you can talk?” Ravebreaker stared at the yellow mech who appeared proud and bashful as he nodded. “Like, talk talk!? That’s all you!?”

“Really? How’d you manage that?” Fyreant exclaimed, gawking as she came closer. In hearing his true voice for the first time her memory cells echoed back various audio clips he’d played previously to converse, leaving her dazed.

“It’s… hard to explain.” Bumblebee let out a small laugh, shrugging. “But yeah, this is me. This is my voice.”

“Oh, sweet-thing I’m so happy! I’m so proud you got it back!” Ravebreaker rushed over and hugged him, giving him an affectionate pat. “What a fine voice it is too to go with a fine bot!”

“Congrats.” Fyreant seemed to relax, but still managed to look semi annoyed, “A bit sorry I couldn’t repay you by fixing it but I’m glad for you; though, it’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going soft.” He teased, edging closer and giving her a playful nudge. “We still need our little spitfire.”

“In your dreams.” Fyreant elbowed him back, grinning deviously. She lowered her voice, “After dealing with Topspin all this time, him treating me like his personal medic, I’m rearing to get back at him. Wanna help?”

“A chance to troll? Of course!”

“Autobots, it is good to see you here.” An all too familiar deep rolling voice called out, commanding attention. Everyone turned to see their mighty leader Optimus Prime transform, revealing his towering robot self in knight-esque armor with some retrofits. “I expect more will be arriving in time in response to my call.”

“Well, it looks like everyone else is takin’ their sweet time. Whoopdeedoo.” Crosshairs sniffed, folding his arms as he looked around for some source of entertainment. “Waste of time waitin’ around, I could be doin’ somethin’ useful.”

“Patience.” Drift urged his restless companion. “Those who have yet to arrive are late, but perhaps they have much farther to come than us.”

“Including Ratchet! Can’t wait to rub that in his face when he gets here.” Fyreant admitted to Bumblebee, sounding delighted at the prospect. “So much for nagging about being first on scene!”

Instantly the demeanor of Optimus’ group changed, Crosshairs suddenly becoming still, Drift looking away, Hound hanging his head while Hot Rod looked lost. Bumblebee appeared conflicted as Fyreant gazed up at him expectantly, the mischievous twinkle still in her optics.

“He-” Bumblebee began but Optimus placed a servo on his shoulder, causing him to go silent as he glanced up at his leader.

Optimus took a moment before speaking, “It is with a heavy spark that I must inform you that Ratchet is one with the Well of All Sparks.”

The statement hung in the air like a noxious cloud as it became uncomfortably silent. The quiet appeared to invite further unease by allowing the words to echo in audio receivers as the rest of the world seemed muted.

“… No.”

The response was barely audible but it cut through the thick silence like a knife.

“Fyreant-”

“No! Pit! No!” She shouted, her voice clipping as outrage consumed her sorrow, rejecting Bumblebee’s attempt to comfort. She stepped back, her red optics flaring, looking as if she’d been betrayed; her gaze flicked in accusation to the newcomers, “He can’t! He said I was still in training! He needs to finish teaching me! How can I… NO!”

“I’m sorry.” Bumblebee hung his head, his optics closing, “I’m so sorry. We weren’t there. We couldn’t save him.”

“No, no, no! Why!?”

“War hasn’t been kind to any of us, kid.” Hound solemnly acknowledged, turning his gaze to the ground as the memory of Ratchet’s fate haunted him. “Thank Primus you didn’t see… he wouldn’t have wanted it.”

“Who did it? Who killed him?” Fyreant’s optics smoldered with hatred, her voice dripping with venom. She looked at each of the newcomers, probing for an answer as she shook, “Tell me, Primus so help me.”

“Kid-”

“Tell me, slag it!” She screamed, fluid escaping her optics as she cut off Hound. Furiously she wiped them away, trying to will the function to cease but failed. Instantly Ravebreaker was beside her, gently holding her arm out of support not restraint. “What filth took down a medic!?”

“It was Lockdown. He was workin’ together with some humans.” Crosshairs admitted, spitting at the memory. “Chasin’ us down like animals. Gutless, the lot.”

At this information Ravebreaker’s demeanor shifted, her already sad posture tensing. Though she kept a servo on Fyreant, attempting to sooth her friend who shook with fury, a tremor ran through her as well.

“I’ll burn his optics out. I’ll cauterize his nerve circuits and then scorch them repeatedly with acid!” Fyreant swore, her optics pulsing a deeper red, her original Decepticon alignment surfacing. “Then I’ll put his head in a vise and rip it off!”

“Fyre… it was five years ago.” Bumblebee softly informed, the pity plain in his optics and voice.

“I know this is hard news and I’m familiar with your rage as I also felt it deeply. But know Ratchet, my old friend, has been avenged.” Optimus knelt down on one knee to get a better look at the grieving young femme. “I personally slew Lockdown and took care of the human responsible for ordering the attacks and defilement of our kind. While I cannot say how many of our comrades fell to his cruelty he has been stopped, permanently.”

“Slag it, slag it all…” Was all Fyreant could get out as she turned away, relieved yet angry that justice and revenge by her hand had escaped her.

“What about anyone else? Surely there are more survivors.” Topspin inquired, looking upset but knew the sting of casualties too well to be surprised. “Though, y’all are the biggest group to come; usually they’re alone and it’s been gettin’ far between arrivals.”

“I am uncertain of most of our comrades’ fates.” Optimus admitted, solemn, “My hope is that they’re still in disguise here on Earth, safe until they can come to this sanctuary or return to Cybertron.”

“Sideswipe’s gone.” Ravebreaker suddenly spoke up, her casual tone cold and distant, a slight quiver in her voice. ��Just over five years ago… Must have been right before Ratchet.”

This time the shock hit Optimus’ group, Bumblebee instantly shaking his head with disbelief while Optimus closed his optics in pain and let out a tired sigh.

“That bot knew how to raise hell… him and Ironhide.” Hound lamented, taking off his helmet in respect. “Primus, they were fine mechs. My condolences, little lady.”

“Rave, I’m so sorry.” Bumblebee looked back and forth between her and Fyreant, helpless as the latter closed herself off and the former, despite the steeled look, screamed raw.

“Humans attacked, I heard it over our commlink. I couldn’t do anything to help, I was too far away.” A tremor ran through her body as she took a shaky breath, “I felt it when his spark was extinguished.”

“You felt-?” Crosshairs began, confused.

“They were sparkbonded.” Bumblebee explained in a quiet voice, “Before we all split up and scattered.”

“Mon Dieu!” Hot Rod could not control his surprise, his large optics wide.

Crosshairs let out a whistle, earning an elbowing from Drift who looked just as surprised. Meanwhile Topspin was quiet, looking awkward as it was old news to him while Fyreant was still trying to control herself, her back turned.

“It grieves me to learn of Sideswipe’s demise, he was a fine comrade and a valued warrior. He chose a fine sparkmate in you, Ravebreaker.” Optimus’ tone was bittersweet though sincerity could be heard. “He will forever remain in our sparks, as well as Ratchet and all our fallen comrades. They will live on in our memories.”

“Yes, he is forever in my spark.” Ravebreaker softly spoke, placing her servo gently on her chest. “And he lives on… through our sparkling.”

At this news the others perked up, glancing at one another to affirm they heard correctly. Bumblebee’s look of sadness turned to shock and then joy, “Really?” to which Ravebreaker nodded, her servo over her spark where the apparent new life was.

“Oi now! She’s taken and goin’ to be havin’ a baby? Just my luck.” Crosshairs complained in a not so low voice to Drift, earning himself a smack across the back of the head from Hound. “Ow! Me head!”

“Zip yer lip before I bust it.”

“Despite these sad times I find joy that life continues. There is hope with this sparkling, promise that life is returning to our race.” Optimus rose to his feet, looking proud as confidence tinged his voice. “This is the mark of a new beginning.”

“Ah, good ‘cause all this melancholy is crampin’ my mojo.” Topspin declared, “This is paradise, y’all. Lighten up, sad times are behind us! We’re moving forward, amigos!” “Yeah, what he said! Ding dong, the witch is dead!” Crosshairs agreed as he sulked, rubbing the back of his head, referring to the manipulative yet deceased Quintessa.

“Not everyone is good at brushing things off.” Drift sagely commented, “Some wish to return to their roots or continue their chosen path.”

“Yeah, well this is my chosen path: I’m keepin’ my aft planted right here. Dunno about the rest of y’all, but I got over Cybertron when I thought for a while it was destroyed by the spacebridge’s implosion eight years ago. I’ve made my peace; I’m retired!”

“Could have fooled me.” Bumblebee muttered, rolling his optics at the Wrecker’s mouthiness as he mocked talked with his servo.

“I respect the decision to remain on Earth but I’ll be going to Cybertron as the Knights of Iacon have already departed for it. There is much to be done and time is short.”

“What are you here for, Prime? Obviously not the beaches.” Topspin pressed, crossing his arms. “Speaking of which, I’m losin’ good beach sun standin’ here.”

“To assemble a new team and assess this sanctuary.” Optimus informed, “I will wait here for one Earth week, giving fellow Autobots time to respond to my broadcast and choose whether to convene here for sanctuary or join me in returning to our home world. Those who choose to return to Cybertron will aid in its restoration. However they are free to come and go as they please.”

“You know, communications is just one of my many talents.” Ravebreaker placed a servo on her hip, coy smile across her faceplates. “I can help boost the signal and encrypt it so it’s harder for enemies to pick up. That should speed things up a bit too in getting the word out.”

“I’ll go.” Fyreant spoke up her voice back to its hard edge. She looked up at the Autobot leader, her red optics no longer flaring dangerously. “There is nothing left for me here on Earth despite it being my creation place. Plus I need resources to complete the frame for Rave’s sparkling… even if Ratchet isn’t here, I need to continue in his stead.”

“I understand. I look forward to having you in my company once more, Fyreant. Your expertise is extremely valuable. Ratchet would be proud of his pupil; you make a fine medic with that fiery passion.” Optimus nodded, acknowledging her resolve.

“And of course I’ll be going with her. Us gals need to stick together.” Ravebreaker announced, leaning down to the shorter femme and giving her a hug, grinning. “Can’t be without my medic, can I? Besides, Cybertron will be dying to hear my tunes once more; they don’t know how much they’ve missed this femme.”

“What about my medic?” Topspin whined, clearly not thrilled at this development, “My volleyball elbow! And my leg that locks up!”

“Go soak it in oil and stop playing slagging volleyball and do something else!” Fyreant snapped, tossing her servos up as she glared at him. “And for the last time: it’s tennis elbow, you wingnut!”

“That’s such a wussy name, and I don’t play no tennis! Simmons is wrong, I tell you.”

“Ugh, a week can’t come soon enough if I don’t die first from any more of this torture! You’re the worst patient!”

Hound let out a laugh he tried to disguise as a cough, turning away to pretend it was coughing fit that he blamed on his cy-gar under his breath. Crosshairs looked amused, grinning as he chewed his dentapick.

“Oh yeah, I’m goin’ to enjoy this.”

“I see why the young one wants to leave.” Drift observed to which Hot Rod nodded in agreement.

“Oui.”

“Autobots, today marks the start of our new mission. We shall gather our comrades and soon return to our home world in preparation for the new threat that lies beneath our feet. We will protect not only Cybertron but Earth as well, despite each’s faults. Together we will rebuild.”

“We’re with you, Optimus.” Bumblebee affirmed, nodding with conviction. “Always.”

“Thank you, my friend. Let us set forward to this dawn of a new age. An age of Cybertron’s rebirth and our people.” The imposing Transformer turned his attention toward the sky where the battered planet orbited, his blue optics serious. “It is time for this requiem’s end.”

#fandom #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic #fandom writing #Transformers #Transformers fanfic #TF fanfic #tf5 #transformers the last knight #crosshairs #hound #drift #Hot Rod #Bumblebee #TF bumblebee #Optimus Prime #Topspin #Volleybot

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