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primasveraas-writing · 4 years ago

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And In Darkness, I Stand- Chapter 4

Kallus' leg is never quite the same after Bahryn. But then again, neither is he.

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4. Yavin IV

“Captain Kallus.”

Kallus turns the best he can, gripping the handle of his cane as he does. Zeb is making his way over, his tall frame parting the flow of traffic in the hall.

“Kal,” Zeb amends with a smile, brushing a hand against the small of Kallus’ back. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Kallus nods, and grimaces. “I don't suppose I can use my position to get out of physical therapy?”

“No. I’ll still carry you there myself if I have to.”

Heat flames across Kallus’ cheek, but there’s nothing he can say to defend himself. His daily routine has been centered around his recovery for weeks, despite his protestations. On his first day back, he reported to Command for an extra few hours rather than going to the medbay, which caused a small uproar among the likes of Hera and Zeb. The resulting situation was a lecture from Zeb and the entire medical staff, as well as a warning from Command as to where his priorities should lie.

But aside from the initial excitement, Kallus has settled in quite well. He has his own post and a small command to his name. He’s been forgiven by the Rebels in an official capacity, and has learned when to ignore the snide comments made by his less-forgiving compatriots. For the most part, his job is normal and steady- he’s in the company of fellow spies most of the time, but everyone on Yavin is well acquainted with danger, regardless of their roles within the Rebellion. He nearly fits in.

It would be better if he were not so limited by his physical ability. He cannot stand on his leg unsupported, so he has been using a cane constantly, save for a few small excursions across his quarters, which, so far, have been painful and short-lived.

Suddenly, Kallus is bad at keeping himself out of trouble, between his efforts to heal and his apparently lacking self-care habits. This is yet another change he attributes to rebel influence, but he rather likes it, even if he is adjusting to this new life slowly.

“You’re improving and you’re not going to stop now,” Zeb growls. He may as well be threatening Kallus, who minds this fact very little. His hand tightens on his cane.

“I know,” Kallus breathes, and drops his gaze. His next step forward is slightly unsteady, but he’s overly aware of Zeb watching him closely and that his friend is fully prepared to catch him should he trip.

Kallus hasn’t fallen in weeks. He can make it all the way across base without needing to rest now. The medics say the fracture is largely healed, and he thinks he must have made some kind of progress over the last few weeks.

“Are you coming with me?” Kallus tries not to sound too hopeful or excited; Zeb usually accompanies him to the medcenter for checkups and therapy, if only to ensure that Kallus himself actually attends.

“Of course.” Zeb glances at him. “‘Til you say you don’t want me there.”

“I do,” Kallus affirms, too quickly, and tries to discern if he’s blushing again. His face still feels hot.

They make their way down to the medcenter, where the staff greets him and Zeb both by name. The journey takes longer than he’d like, and Kallus tries not to count how many people pass him. It’s mid-afternoon by then, and his leg has started to twinge, although he turns away from Zeb and bites the inside of his cheek to get through the moments of pain.

Zeb steadies him as he strips off his jacket and boots, clutching Kallus’ left elbow. Kallus shoots him a grateful smile. He wobbles on one leg, unsteady, and he knows he will not fall.

“Ready?”

It’s not Zeb who asks, but a nurse. Cida Amada, who was one of the first people he got to know during his stay in the medcenter. She barely looks old enough to have such responsibility, with her shy smiles and soft tones, but she and Kallus took a liking to each other. They made each other cry, he lost in frustration and agony, and she hurt after discovering his tendency to yell and swear when in crippling pain. Yet once he had apologized, their relationship improved, and Amada became his primary caretaker, which most predominantly includes cajoling him into showing up for his appointments.

She and Zeb seem to adore each other for this fact. Kallus can only pretend he hates it so much.

He nods, his mouth suddenly dry, and she reaches out to take his hand. He lets her, and Cida smiles at him, not meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds.

“It’ll feel better later even if it’s uncomfortable right now, Alexsandr. How have the last few rotations been?”

She is gentle and kind. Forgiving, too, which is the strangest of offerings he’s even been gifted in his life. Kallus mostly expected to be dead by now, rather than guided through a half-stocked medbay by a medic exclusively trained by war doctors. Cida genuinely likes him, too, which is odd. Both Hera and Zeb had to assure him of this fact, though Kallus is sure she wouldn’t be capable of pretending otherwise. He first had doubts about the girl’s abilities as a liar since she apologized for taking a blood sample from him. She is too good to lie, which, he supposes, is why he’s a former Imperial-turned-spy, and she is a rebel war doctor.

Cida stretches his legs and guides him through a few exercises that should be simple but prove exceedingly difficult for Kallus. He has to touch his toes. Climb stairs. Walk 2 meters with support on either side. He grits his teeth and sweats through it, mumbling curses that Cida and Zeb pretend not to hear when he inevitably falters.

His hands shake for an hour afterward. Kallus showers and lies on his bunk, exhausted.

His leg feels better than it did before.

Had he stayed with the Empire, Kallus would have received higher quality medical care.

He might not be stuck with a limp and a cane.

First, he would have needed to swallow his damned pride and ask for treatment, and then the initial break would not have affected him for the rest of his life. The Imperial meddroids would have returned him to normal in a matter of days, if not weeks, and Thrawn would have never rebroken the leg, even if Kallus had pursued life as Fulcrum. The Empire is equipped with better resources and better training.

But he didn’t ask for help, not upon his return from Bahryn nor any of the painful days after. Konstantine didn’t even look up at him. If anyone noticed he was uncomfortable or weaker, they politely looked away and saved that topic of discussion for when his back was turned. Kallus was alone in caring for himself, and it was thus unimportant to everyone in the Empire, including him. He adopted the same attitude regarding his own health.

Hera had caught him when he collapsed, after Atollon. Cida cried when he cried because she hated seeing him in pain. Zeb has been there for him in more ways than he can count.

Sometimes, Zeb calls him Alex. He hasn’t had that nickname since he was a little boy- his parents never bothered with it and he had few friends by the time he entered the Imperial Academy.

Zeb is the only one, in his entire life, who has called him Kal.

That’s yet another thing they share. Kallus has gleamed that Zeb never fully revealed the truth of what happened on Bahryn, even to the rest of the Ghost crew.

He does not know what would be enough to repay the Rebels. They have so little, yet they give to him, in time and effort and supplies and trust. It would be more just if these things were diverted to another, not to a formal Imperial, but they will not let him refuse their generosity.

Kallus would give his life for these people. For Zeb and the Spectres, certainly, but for those he does not know, too. For the ones who hurl dirty looks and harsh words at him in the mess and hallways, for Cida, for the other Fulcrums, for every rebel on Yavin and the galaxy beyond.

His life would not be enough, when they are the very people who have given it back to him. Kallus’ life is marred and stained and broken. He can offer the rebels service and secrets and loyalty, and he will do all he can to see them to victory.

He wonders about that, too. He would be more confident about winning the war were he still an Imperial agent. He is a man of facts and logic, and he knows that the odds are against the rebels to prevail over the Empire.

But he believes in the rebels. Kallus believes in their cause and their people. That alone has carried them further than Kallus ever predicted.

He would give his life for them without thinking. He gives his hope and keeps his doubt and his cynicism, heavy as they are, so that they do not burden those like Pica and Leia Organa and Ezra Bridger.

Even as a rebel, being a spy still demands a certain mindset of coldness and hardness. Kallus is learning mercy, and he is learning how mercy does and doesn’t fit into his role. Draven has told him more than once that they serve the cause of the Rebellion, not its people.

Kallus is not sure he agrees. Draven has the end of the war in sight, and that is what grants Kallus peace of mind while the familiarity of Draven’s words nags at him.

Draven has also told Kallus that he is still useful, despite his leg. The General had looked at Kallus with pity while he had said it. Kallus will prove him wrong, and his heart sings with a small amount of pride with the knowledge of the difference he has made already under and to Draven’s command.

Kallus is trying to be good in his new role. He is also trying to become someone worthy of the friendship and care that the rebels have shown him.

He wants to be accepted by them. He wants to be their friend.

“Alexsandr!”

The use of his full first name startles him, nearly as much as the alarm in Zeb’s voice does. Zeb is staring at him from across the hangar, Hera by his size. The droid, Chopper, makes some obscene noise that Kallus can only assume is scolding.

The trio is at his side quickly, and Kallus grunts as he loads the shipment onto the shuttle.

“I can do that,” Hera says. She sounds mildly scandalized, and she takes the box from his hands. Chopper wags his mechanical arm at Kallus, and emits a horrifying cackle at the indignation on his face.

“No cane?” Zeb sounds surprised, but Kallus has had a good few days. He’s permitted not to use it for short amounts of time, given that his leg doesn’t start hurting. He and Cida are hoping that this will become the norm, that he will only need his cane some days. Kallus has floated the idea of field missions once or twice already, but he’ll push for more unsupervised walking first.

“Not for a while.” It’s nearly strange not to have the cane in his hand, but he’s been making good use of his free hands for a while. Then: “General, I assure you I am very capable of doing that.”

Kallus tries to take the next box from Hera, who passes to Zeb. In turn, he holds the box over their heads, then sets it in the shuttle.

“You could hurt yourself,” Hera chides. “Let us help you.”

“Lifting a few crates will hardly send me into critical condition,” Kallus protests, but the words are weakened when Hera glares at him. Chopper laughs again. “My leg is injured, not my arms.”

“No extra weight,” Zeb reminds him, taking another box from Hera. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“It’s just-”

“We’re happy to help,” Hera interrupts. She exchanges a look with Zeb, and Kallus bites back a retort. He’s perfectly capable.

The next time he sees Cida, Kallus is sure to mention lightening the restrictions on his carrying weight. She’s willing to negotiate, at the very least, and they argue until it’s agreed that Kallus can lift, but not carry, a few kilos. He’s sure to complain very little for the rest of the session, and the nurse sends him away with a smile at the end of the day.

She tells him he’s making progress; a statement constantly echoed by Zeb. Physical therapy becomes easier and less frequent; he’s fully adjusted to using his cane, although he has started to go many days without it. At first, it’s painful- he can only endure the day without his cane if he stays in Command, but then weeks pass and he can move around base on his own. He’s outfitted with temporary mechanical braces, and he goes on his first field mission as a rebel.

The days are not bad, and the initial mission goes smoothly, as do all the ones after that.

When night falls after he returns, Kallus can barely stand, and the pain reduces him mostly immobile.

Cida worms this fact out of him after he spends two rotations chasing down a rogue informant. He had been late to see her, and stiff and quiet during their appointment.

“You’ll make it worse,” she warns him. His leg has been swelling, too. “Too much at once will only hurt you.”

“I’m useful out there,” Kallus insists, staring at his injured leg. It would be a waste if he remained on base all the time. “If I can get stronger, then I can fight.”

Cida sighs, her eyes full of worry. Kallus looks away, his heart poisoned with guilt. “If you keep doing this, you may last a few months or a cycle. After that, you could spend the rest of your life walking with pain and assistance.”

He nods once. That’s as much time as he needs, regardless of what follows.

Kallus has greater potential than what his leg allows. He could be one of the best ground fighters on base, if his body worked right.

“Does your leg hurt?”

Kallus grunts. “My leg always hurts.” He shifts, moving his lower body as little as possible, but Zeb moves into his full view a moment later.

“You shoulda said something on way back-”

“I’m fine, Zeb.”

“Your cane-”

“It hurts with or without the cane,” Kallus snaps, then averts his eyes. Zeb’s ears flatten, and Kallus’ stomach flips.

“Are you gonna use it now?” Zeb asks quietly. They still don’t look at each other.

Kallus reaches for the offending object and thumps it against the ground. “Yes,” he mutters. That’s the only reason he got here, in some dirty corner of the base. The cane saw him back from the medbay and into the spot where he had chosen to sulk.

Apparently, the covert location wasn’t quite private enough. That, or Zeb knows him too well, because he seems to have sought Kallus out with ease. But here he is, sitting on the floor with Kallus and watching the rest of the Rebellion walk by, totally oblivious to their discussion.

“Today is a bad day,” Kallus says. That’s how he measures time- in good days and bad ones. “I’ve been having a lot of those, recently.”

“You’ve been working hard.”

“I want to go back to normal,” Kallus mutters, rolling his eyes. “I’m sick of being weak. I’m tired.” He smiles at Zeb, his lips thin and pursed. “I’m done.”

“Alex.” Zeb is imploring.”How could you think you’re weak?”

“Because I can’t walk down the damned hallway!” Kallus scoffs. “Because I have gone through all this suffering and I am not better! And all I wish is that it would end!”

“That makes you weak, does it?”

“It doesn’t make me strong, Garazeb. Not the way you think I am.”

The Lasat next to him snorts. “Kal, I have seen you walk through hell and back-”

“That doesn’t make-”

“- I know how strong you are,” Zeb finishes, talking over him. “Do you trust me?”

Kallus blanches, his heart pounding. “Of course.”

“Then believe me when I say you’re strong.”

“I’ve never seen it that way.”

The words are nearly inaudible. It’s a shamefaced confession, and Zeb stares at him with wide eyes, taking both of Alexsandr’s hands in his.

“Just because I survived doesn’t mean I’m a martyr, Zeb. Or some inspiration to look up to.”

“That’s half of one of the many reasons I care for you,” Zeb whispers, his voice so, so low. “Not because you’ve managed to survive, but because of how determined you are. It’s the stupid face you make when you’re concentrating and the way your voice gets all high when you tell me about how fine and capable you are.” Zeb chuckles, and Kallus is very acutely aware that Zeb is sitting so close to him that their thighs are touching. “You’ve always been so damn stubborn.”

“You like that about me?” Some alarmed voice in Alexsandr’s head warns him that this is barely tangential to the topic at hand.

“Yeah.” Zeb’s ears twitch, and he drops his eyes from Kallus’ wondrous stare. “Even if it pisses me off.”

“I know it does.”

“Yeah,” Zeb growls, then he deflates as he sighs. “I’ve always known that about you. Even when you were trying to kill me.” He gestures to Kallus, to his brace and cane. “Seeing you recover is another way you’re proving this to me. Your absurd relentlessness. And your strength.” He glowers at Kallus when he says the last word, as if daring him to object. “You’ve always had that.”

“Someone better would have handled it with grace.”

“Maybe.” Zeb shrugs. “You’re tough, not a saint.”

“Thank you, Garazeb.”

Zeb rolls his eyes, shoving against Kallus’ shoulder gently. “Whatever.” He clears his throat. “Maybe all this made you stronger. I don’t care if you get back to normal, or whatever you’ve dreamed up for yourself. I only want you to be happy with where you were.”

“And go to physical therapy.”

“I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“Right.”

Zeb grins. “By the way, if you didn’t want the hurt from your serious injury to go away, then you’re twice as big of an idiot as I thought you were. I have no idea what else you expected.”

“I expected for it to last a few weeks. Not the rest of my life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wishing for that.” Zeb looks up at the trees, and Kallus thinks of a burning world, razed to the ground by the Empire. Zeb didn’t come away from Lasan unscathed, he knows. “Whatever happens though, here you are, Kal. Even if all you’ve done is survive.”

Alexsandr reaches out for Zeb’s hand, and his friend takes it. Zeb’s words are muddled with affection and friendship and respect. The person Zeb describes sounds like someone Kallus can appreciate. Somebody with an iron will and a conviction for the right kind of things. Somebody worthy of love

That night, Kallus cannot rest. He wanders the halls, on a dreadfully familiar path- the one Zeb takes him on when Kallus has to stretch out his leg. His feet carry him into the cool night air, his cane thumping against the stone after every uneven step.

Kallus searches for privacy, but he cannot make it far outside the base. There are still lights blinking from the hangars and a quiet bustle of nightlife shows that the base is still busy, but Kallus staggers along as far as he can and settles on a log under the cover of some trees.

“Can’t sleep?”

Alexsandr jumps, then he squints in the dark. Some 30 feet away is Kanan Jarrus, sitting on the forest floor with his legs folded beneath him. He appears to be meditating; his shoulder pauldrons and mask are off, and he sounds relaxed.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Kallus calls. He fumbles with his cane and readies himself to stand; he’s still slightly out of breath and now he has nowhere to go.

“No.” Kanan stands instead and approaches Kallus, nimbly stepping over branches and rocks. Kallus stares up at the blind Jedi, then averts his gaze when Kanan takes a seat next to him.

They sit together in silence. Kallus doesn’t mind the company very much; he fiddles with his hands and does his best to ignore the aching in his leg.

“It’s lonely, isn’t it?” Kanan says finally. He turns to Kallus expectantly.

Kallus gives a nervous chuckle. “What is?”

“Healing.” Kanan opens his hands as if he’s referring to the whole jungle, instead. “Even with the people who love you at your side.”

Kallus opens his mouth to protest- he’s not sure who loves him, even if a few people come to mind- but the depth of Kanan’s words hit him a moment later.

“I don’t-” Kallus struggles for the right words. “I don’t believe I’m alone.”

Kanan nods slowly. “I had Hera with me every step of the way. She’s the most understanding, caring person I know.” Then, Kanan shrugs. “But it was impossible for her to understand what it was like, no matter how hard she tried. It was lonely.”

“Yes,” Kallus says slowly, exhaling. “Even- even-”

“Zeb doesn’t understand?” He can hear the humor in Kanan’s voice, although Kallus cannot piece together why Kanan would be amused. “I think that’d be impossible unless he’d been through it, too.”

“Do you know anyone who did?”

Kanan shakes his head. “Not quite.” He smiles, and again, Kallus can’t comprehend why. “I had to find solace in other places.”

“Do you think you’re on the other side?”

“Of recovery?” Kallus inclines his head. “Yes. It’s different now.” Kanan’s smile becomes wistful. “But there’s no going back.”

“You made it through.”

“I did. And you will too. In time.”

“I want it to be over.” The confession falls from Kallus’ lips before he can help it. “I’m so tired of being in pain.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think it will ever pass.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then…” Kallus sighs. “Then I move forward with it, anyway.”

There’s no other choice. He will stay with the rebels until the end, and he will do so however he can. He could lose his leg tonight or he could wake up entirely healed tomorrow morning. Either way, there will be little change to his plans.

“I thought you’d say that.” Kanan rests his hand on Kallus’ knee. “It gets easier.”

“I know.” It has already. Maybe Zeb is right. Maybe he is strong because of what he has survived, and maybe there’s truth to Kanan’s words, too.

“I think you’ll find someone who makes it less lonely. I believe you’ll find yourself on the other side.”

Kallus bows his head in acknowledgment, suddenly exhausted. “Zeb will be yours again, once we get back from Lothal.” Kanan’s seriousness disappears, and Kallus knows the moment has passed. He can’t help that the corners of his lips are quirking up, and Kanan seems to both know and enjoy this fact.

“You leave soon?” The thought is bittersweet; the Lothal rebels returning home again, and Zeb will leave his side.

“Three rotations.” Kanan answers. His tone has become heavy again, but the Jedi does not sound afraid.

“I wish you luck.”

The earliest sign of civilization is a healed femur.

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dadoroki · 5 years ago

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Every Comic Has A Story

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: softboi shiggy, fluff, swearing

Summary: When Japan’s most dangerous villain meets a witty and flirty comic store clerk.

The mall was unsurprisingly packed, as it was the weekend. Everyone had something to do or somewhere to go. Shopping for items, chatting with friends. Not for Shigaraki though.

After his tight encounter with Midoriya, he walked the crowded mall all alone, stuck in his own thoughts. How could he become stronger? To become better than Stain? To defeat All Might? His thoughts would be dispersed when a loud angry voice boomed from his right side.

“How many times do I gotta tell you kids? This stuff is 18+!” Shigaraki turned his attentive gaze towards your voice, a voice that could instantly gain anyone’s attention. Well, aside from how loud it was. He slowly walked into the store, staring at a messy rack full of comics but secretly eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Ma’am, I’m 18! See?” The boy handed you an ID card, one that instantly made you aware of how fake it was. The card was poorly constructed and taped for crying out loud. “You all look 12. Now get lost before I call one of those bad guys to come down and beat your asses.” The boys ran out of the shop in a hurry, fearing for their lives. You turned your attention to the new customer who wore his black sweater a bit too suspiciously. “Aye, you.”

Shigaraki calmly turned his head towards your direction. He was sure to cover his face, hanging his head down low. “You’re lookin’ hella suspicious. Did you come here to shoplift?” He stood in his place, squinting his eyes at the ground. Were you always this talkative and annoying? “Are you profiling me?”

You were taken aback by his response, moving your hands and shaking your head frantically. “Uh, no. Not at all. Sorry.” His face filled with annoyance, moving to grab a random comic and walking to your counter. You glanced at the book he chose, ‘Pretty Princess Diaries’. A giggle couldn’t help but escape your lips, causing Shigaraki to grow more agitated. You reached under the counter and grabbed a more suitable comic for him. “I think you’d enjoy this better. It’s about the psychology of the villain, Memphis, and how he defeats the heroes.”

There was no reason as to why he even stepped foot in the comic store but this was perfect for Shigaraki. It would give him many ideas and ways to help in the current situation he was in. However, he wasn’t willing to pay the price. “I don’t feel like buying this.” He began to lower his final finger on the cover page, ready to deteriorate it. That way, you’d be frightened by him. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s on the house.”

He removed his entire hand completely away from the comic, watching you take it and place it in a white bag. Confusion was the only emotion he was feeling. You handed him the bag with a smile. Even though you could barely see his face, he strongly caught your interest. He looked mysterious and interesting. Or maybe you’ve just been reading too many romance themes. “If you like it, come back and get the next one.”

Shigaraki looked at you with disgust, fully aware of the love eyes you sent him. He mumbled a quick “sure” and left the store, hoping to never step foot inside ever again.

When he got back from the long travel, he tossed the bag to the side and slumped on his cold bed. He glanced at the plastic bag before pulling out the comic and taking a long look at it. A dark matte cover, red cheapfire font imprinted in the center, and underneath was the main villain. Shigaraki had nothing else better to do so he decided to read only a bit of it. Going from one page, to thirteen, to forty, until it reached the end. He wasn’t aware but it was already 4am in the morning.

Shigaraki entered the store, the same place he refused to step foot in again. He placed the white bag on the counter, setting his empty hands back in his pockets. “I need the next one.” You could barely understand him through his mumbling, causing you to lean in closer. You noticed a few of his hidden features. His fragile face, chapped lips. Chapped lips?

“Nah, what you really need is some chapstick for those crusty ass lips.” You grabbed your cherry lip balm from your purse, holding it out to him with a wink. “You can have mine. It’s my favourite flavour.” Shigaraki snatched the item from your hand, shoving it in his pocket with a huff of annoyance. Your flirtatious presence really started to get on his nerves.

This would be his last visit to you and he couldn’t wait to leave but then, a thought popped off in his head. He needed a pawn to do his dirty work. The work that he nor his group could carry out due to the huge attention it would gain. He needed someone who was as easy as you. “You know, you’re quite a view.”

You raised a brow, not expecting the sudden compliment. “Oh, thanks.” Shigaraki wasn’t the best at flirting but he needed to try in order to fully wield you in. “When’s your lunch break?” You sat straighter in your chair, a smile slowly forming across your face. You weren’t really sure when but you knew your friend would cover your shift if he knew about the situation. “I can end now. Eijiro!” You called in the back room. “I need you to cover my shift please.”

Without even waiting for a response, you grabbed your purse and stood beside an irritated Shigaraki. He didn’t expect to be hanging out with you so soon and wasn’t fully mentally prepared for your excessive energy. It was going to be a long dreadful day.

You both sat on the edge of the water fountain, ice cream in hand. It had only been an hour and Shigaraki was ready to end himself. You gladly licked your ice cream while he sat still, staring at you. Everything about you annoyed him. The way you sat perfectly under the mall sunroof or how graceful you looked eating your ice cream. You took notice of the way his pinky extended away from his cone. “What are you, British?” You pointed at his finger, causing him to look down at it. “I don’t think all British people do that.”

You shrugged your shoulders, standing up from your spot. He followed your movements, his height causing him to look down on you. You embraced him in a tight hold, feeling the rigidness of his body. “I had a great time. By the way, what’s your name?”

He wasted no time in saying his name, incapable of standing your presence any longer. “Shigaraki.” Finally, you’d regret spending the day with him and leave him alone. You stood there silent in confusion, resting a finger on your chin. “Huh, like the villain?” Holy shit, this girl was dumber than he thought. “Anyways I gotta go. Come by tomorrow so we can do this again.” You left him speechless, standing all alone in the middle of the busy mall.

He was sure of giving up. You weren’t worth all the mental suffering but here he was with you again, walking around the same mall. Earlier, he had mentioned how he hated holding hands so instead, you linked your arm with his while he had his hands in his pockets. The big advertisement sign of skincare caught your attention, stopping you in your tracks and making him do the same. “Look Shigz, we should go in. You need that.”

You looked up at him with a cheeky smile, causing him to groan in revulsion. He wasn’t sure why he was going along with it. Applying chapstick was enough for him but to you, if it worked on his lips, it would definitely work on his face.

He noticed all the skin products on display, walking down the extremely bright aisle. He heard his nickname being called and turned around, feeling your soft hands rub against his face. “You said you had a skin condition so the employee recommended me this.” Shigaraki watched as you ran your fingers from his face, all the way down to his neck. He never recalled feeling another human’s touch in such a caring way.

You both made your way towards the counter, paying for the product and leaving. To his surprise, he actually bought the cream. The very first time in his life, he actually bought something instead of stealing it. You were a bad influence on him and his work and he needed nothing more than to depart from you.

“Shit, it’s almost time for my shift.” You stood on your tippy toes, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek before steadily jogging off. “I’ll see you soon!” Never in his life had he been given such affection. Shigaraki touched the area of where your lips had kissed with delicate fingers.

That night, he tossed and turned in his bed, struggling to find sleep. You were an internal battle to him. On one side, he hated your guts and wanted nothing more than to escape from you. On the other, he hated to say it but he enjoyed your company. The way you made him feel something he’d never felt in all his years of living. He decided at that moment, he’d confess to you. No, nothing romantic in any way but strictly his identity. The identity that you somehow failed to process.

“What do you mean she doesn’t work here?” The next day, Shigaraki stepped foot in the comic shop, only to be told you weren’t there. The new clerk adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re gonna have to describe her.” A now frustrated Shigaraki grew heavily impatient, not having the time to deal with this. He realized he never asked for your name, a stupid rookie mistake he made. “She’s this short, (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes, a little slow, annoying, and dumb.”

The man shook his head with a puzzled face. “I’m sorry but I just started working here and I don’t know much of who works here.” Shigaraki scratched his neck, seconds away from decaying him but restraining himself. “What’s the point of asking me that question then?”

He walked out of the store defeated. Shockingly, he didn’t reach over the counter to kill the goof. You really were a bad influence on him. A moment of walking later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Shigz.”

He recognized the fine voice all too clearly. He started to broil in anger. In a matter of seconds, he quickly spun around to face you. “Where were you? I tried visiting you and you weren’t there.” You were astounded, never witnessing Shigaraki this mad before. Usually, he was calm and quiet. “I quit my job. They weren’t paying good.”

He closed his eyes, letting the stress leave his body. “Listen closely.” He opened his red eyes which met yours. In that instant, he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to express how he felt but his feelings were too complicated and corrupted. “Like I said, I’m Tomura Shigaraki. The leader of the League of Villains.”

“Uh, yeah. You already told me.” He paused in perplexity, having the inability to speak or understand the situation. What did you mean you already knew? For the longest time, he thought you weren’t the brightest and he was okay with that. You began to laugh, trying to maintain it with a hand clasped on your mouth. “Did you really think I didn’t know? It was pretty obvious, Shigz. I just wanted to get to know you as you. Not how everyone sees you.”

He stood motionless feeling flabbergasted, allowing you to grab onto his arm. “I never asked you for your name.” If he never mentioned it, you’d had completely forgotten about it. “(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)” He trailed in a slight whisper, repeating after you. “Why don’t I take you on a proper date?”

With the biggest smile that warmed Shigaraki’s cold heart, you held him in closer.

“I would like that a lot.”

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jamieatthebarricade · 4 years ago

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Maids to Wives

An Outlander AU based loosely on the TV Show and real life in the historic Jamestown

In 1619, one hundred and forty-four English women from good families crossed the Atlantic in response to the Virginia Company of London’s call for maids “young and corrupt” to make wives for the planters of it’s new colony in Virginia. One in six of the maids could even claim gentry status. Although promised a free choice of husband, they were in effect being traded into marriage for a bride price of 150 pounds of best leaf tobacco, the profits to flow to individual investors

In 1619, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp made the voyage to do one thing: marry a man she's never met. But when she arrives, she comes to the startling realization that her heart belongs to someone else, a certain James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.

Chapter 1/? : Aboard The Ship

April 17th, 1619, Claire’s POV

“I feel like my innards are swasheling ‘bout” Geillis hacked out her dinner for the 4th time this week. I tried my best to soothe her, rubbing her shoulders lightly, but the smell of old fish and stomach acid from the other’s puking made it hard to keep anything down. Most of us hadn't been on a boat before, let alone in the middle of the ocean where the monstrous waves led to monstrous waves of sea sickness. It took all my strength not to succumb to the churn in my own stomach. Poor Geillis didn't have the same strength as I.

Geillis was one of the first women I met on this voyage. Me and her bonded over our love of herbs and our older age. She has become one of my closest friends on this trek to find my future husband.

My Husband. The word had only rolled off my tongue a few times in my life, but suddenly it was my entire world. It was all the ladies talked about, all they thought of, all they could remember dreaming about. But, the rest of the women on the ship were different from me, and from Geillis too: they were young, and they were trained. Geillis and I were the eldest of all the brides -she being 31 and I being 27- and didn’t receive the same education as the rest of the girls. I myself spent my childhood traveling Europe with my Uncle Lamb, not learning how to be a good wife that could keep house. Perhaps if my parents hadn’t died when I was so young they could have instilled the passion for housekeeping in me, but a childhood under my Uncle’s influence assuredly led to the demise of any interest in such things. He even tried to enroll me in a dame school, but I refused. Can you imagine? Years of learning how to sew and knit and cook. I couldn’t think of a more revolting thing. I had longed to continue to travel with Uncle Lamb, as his career as an antiquarian required him to do, and so he had no choice but to keep me by his side. I imagine him beside me now, as if this voyage was just like any other: exploring new lands with curiosity and excitement.

As Geillis continued to empty her stomach, I scanned the cabin, seeing some of the younger girls on the ship playing a card game. Their eyes lit a bright light inside of them when they got a good hand, and their smiles sparkled like pearls in the faint lantern light. Despite the ship muck they resided in, they still radiated beauty and grace. That and their training would make them excellent wives.

Perhaps I should have let Uncle Lamb enroll me in that Dame school, I thought as I turned back to check on Geillis. Even though I got to choose the man I married, there was no guarantee that my husband would keep me when he found out how many skills I lacked. But no man could be so cruel, could he? While it made no sense to wish for a kind husband, I still did, as did all the women. I could only hope that my husband would be caring, smart, and understanding (and have a face and body with equally desirable qualities, but both together was the most rare of all).

A tug on Geillis’s hair called me back to reality. It seemed the sickness had faded for a moment or two, enough for her to speak. “Claire, I swear to ye, if I don’t make it on this ship, bury me in the new world. I dinna care if my flesh sticks up the whole bloody ship, I wilna be thrown to the sea, like a bone to a dog”

“You’re not gonna die Geillis, it’s only 3 more weeks till the captains said we'll see land. If you die on this ship, I swear to you I’ll kill you” My remark managed to stifle a chuckle from Geillis’s sickly body. She smiled at me, and then her moment of peace was over: she went back to being sick almost immediately. I never found myself in the comfort of women, but Geillis was like a sister to me. Spending a month at sea in tight quarters did that to a friendship.

Geillis wasn’t the only friend I made on the ship. To my left sat 15 year old Mary Hawkins, the youngest of the maids. Mary was just… small. A small frame and small face were the most startling of her features, and the month on the ship caused an almost deadly thinning of her figure. When she spoke, the words came in small stutters, and any movement made her jump. When I first saw her I wondered how Mary could have thought she could survive the trek across the ocean; that was, until I found out being a maid was her father’s scheme. After finding this out, a sisterly urge surged inside me, and I was her protector on the voyage ever since. And as her protector, I saw her shivering as I helped Geillis, and moved my arm from Geillis’s back to around Mary’s shoulders. She gladly nestled herself into my side, but the shaking didn’t stop.

“A-am I going to die here, C-Claire?” She stuttered out. I quickly shook my head and turned to look down at her. I saw tears running down her face, but she didn’t look me in the eyes. She kept her gaze on the wall across from us, where a woman who looked the most sick of all rested her head. She didn’t look alive anymore, but with closer examination I saw her chest rose ever so slightly. I made a mental note to check on her later, if she hadn’t already died. So far, 34 women have died. While the cause of death varied from maid to maid, it was all from the same sickness that plagued our ship since the beginning of the second week aboard. Not all the women were victims, but the ones that were died swiftly and in immense pain. But, for every maid that died here, the same amount of men were left without a bride, and that would mean another wave of maids. I couldn’t imagine putting more girls through this hell. I was fortunate to be well, and above all else, alive.

“No, you’re not. You’re gonna leave the ship with us and meet your husband.” I rubbed Mary’s shoulders gently. I felt her breath loosen, and she slumped slightly. Good, I thought. She fell asleep

I then stayed with Geillis until her nausea faded. After cleaning her up using my dress as a rag, I laid her down and watched her drift to sleep. I touched my hand to her forehead, and was thankful for not feeling any unusual temperature. I removed my arm from Mary’s shoulders, and slowly set her down near Geillis’ head. I tucked a small bag of grain beneath both of their heads, and thankfully none of them awoke from their slumber. I looked across the cabin and saw the pale woman from before. She hadn’t changed positions, but her chest still rose and fell like before. I moved in front of her, and placed my hand on her forehead. Hot. Burning hot. I shook her awake, and when she opened her eyes, they were bloodshot.

“Will... you tell my husband that I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it” The sentence flowed out like any other statement, but the meaning behind it was darker.. She was a young woman, nearly 23 I guessed. Her hair was a soft blonde, and she had a pleasing aura about her. I could also tell she was quite pretty, underneath the sweat and sickness. Her hair stuck around her face, but she had the complexion of a sheet of paper. She was transparent, the veins of her body stuck out harshly against her pale face. When she spoke, it came out in a low whisper, as if her body didn’t have the willpower to use any strength.

“I’m Faith” She flashed a quick but weak attempt at a smile. I wished there was something I could do, to give her the strength that had saved me these past weeks. I reached beside her to grab a rag, in hopes of maybe wiping away the heat, but she put her hands over mine.

“Make the new world good for us” She spoke, before closing her eyes. Everything happened so suddenly, I could barely register it all. The minute she closed her eyes, any color that was left in her face disappeared. The rising of her chest stopped, and a hand fell limply from mine.

I removed myself immediately, and sat next to Geillis. She stirred in her sleep before sitting up, tired. She must’ve heard what had happened, because just as I sat down she put her arm around mine. I wanted to cry, to feel some kind of pity for the woman, but nothing came out. ‘You should mourn her’ my brain told me but how could I? I just met her.

I didn’t have time to be like this. In a few short weeks we would be on the island with the men, living in the new world. Instead of feeling pity, I felt a sense of guilt. Out of nearly 100 women, only a few would step off this ship and into a new life. And I was one of them. Why did I get the luxury? I wasn’t ever a quiet, obeying miss, and I don’t think I could ever be. Why did god and those above think me fit to take on the responsibility of marriage? Faith would’ve probably made a fantastic wife, but here she lies dead by my feet and I am still breathing.

These thoughts ran rampant in my mind, so much so they exhausted me, and I felt myself roused into a deep slumber, with Geillis’ arm still around me and the soft breathing of the living filling my ears, reminding me I was still alive, that we all were. We bore the weight and responsibility of those who didn’t live, it was our job to make the new world good and prosperous.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hello everyone! This is my first chapter of a fanfiction I’m looking forward to writing! I’m a fairly new author so if everyone could be kind/give solid constructive criticism, that would be amazing! I’m looking forward to hopefully releasing more chapters later on!

#outlander fanfic #Outlander #Claire Beauchamp #Claire Fraser #james alexander malcolm mackenzie fraser #Jamie Fraser #jamestown au #Outlander AU #Outlanderrr #;maids to wives #;my_works

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f0rever15elf · 4 years ago

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I Just Need Five Minutes: Part 1

Part 1 of the Maxwell Lord “I Just Need Five Minutes” Series: Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4, Part 5 (Coming soon) Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!reader Wordcount: 2,325 Rating: G Warnings: Death mentions Part 2 (Coming soon...)

Summary: Lord Corp has become the top business contender on the global stage, lead by none other than Maxwell Lord IV. His rise to glory has taken him from the lives of those he once loved, and you can only watch as he slips further and further out of reach. You had to stop it, before it was too late. You had to get inside.

A/N: This story is going to call a little bit on the comic book backstory of Maxwell Lord IV, most of which can be found in his wiki article, if you’re interested. I’m excited to write for Maxwell, his character has so much potential. And hopefully this will tide me over since the movie release has been delayed again.

Masterlist | Ao3

He was a genius. Shrewd, cunning, and charismatic. His way with words had everyone coiled tightly around his finger; he could sell holy water to the Pope if he wanted to. And with that silver tongue, that guise he wore to stroke the egos of those who ate from his palm and were none the wiser, he continued to climb higher and higher. More and more power fell into his grasp.

But a glass can only hold so much, and as his brimmed and spilled over with power and influence, so did he lose his humanity.

“Maxwell...what have you done?”

~~~~

The sun shines brilliantly in the summer sky over the wide yard in front of the Lord estate. In the lush green grass, two children play, no more than five or six years old. A boy and a girl, giggling and laughing over jokes and stories told in funny voices. It is the picture of innocence, purity. The little girl picks up a flower from the small pile they had collected, tucking it behind her ear before finding a matching one, tucking it behind the boy’s.

“We match now!” she beams in a way only a child can. “It means that you and I will be together forever!” The boy blushes at her words, soft blonde hair blowing gently in the summer breeze. His face is gentle and kind, shy even as he watches her with bright brown eyes that shine in the light. Tentatively, he sticks out his hand to her, pinky finger extended.

“You gotta promise! It doesn’t work if you don’t promise!” His serious voice makes the girl giggle before she makes a serious face, wrapping her pinky around his tightly.

“I promise! Forever and ever.” The boy smiles and nods as she says so, repeating her words back to her before they both erupt into giggles. From the balcony, the mothers of the two children look on fondly over their cups of tea. The sound of the children laughing danced on the warm breeze, pleasant in their ears. If only things could stay like this forever.

~~~~

Your pinky twitches as you stand before the gilded doors of the Lord Building, looking up at its windows, blinding in the sunlight. You would get in. You had to. Things had been put into motion that you need to stop, but the only way to do so is from the inside. With a shake of your head and a sigh, your turn on your heel, heading down the street towards home. It seems that nearly every screen you pass on your way has Maxwell’s face on it, selling empty promises and loaded bargains. And every time you see his eyes, they look a little less like the boy you use to know.

~~~~

“Max can’t meet you today, dear,” your mother says, petting your hair. To an adult familiar with grief and loss, the tightness in her voice would betray the tumultuous emotions she feels. To you, she just sounds uncomfortable, and you tilt your head in confusion. Fourteen years doesn’t provide much time to become familiar with the concept of loss, so you shrug, saddened you wouldn’t get to see your friend today.

Gone were the days of sitting in the grass to play, tucking flowers into each other’s hair. Maxwell was always busy helping his father to run the family business, and you would go months without so much as a word from him before he would show up at your door with a lily, smiling that dimpled smile at you. Promises always poured from his lips that it wouldn’t be so long next time before he came to see you.

But today… Today would change everything. Today, Maxwell’s father died.

~~~~

The door to your apartment slams shut behind you with a thud, shutting out the hustle and bustle of Metropolis. It’s small, but cozy, filled with your plants to bring a little life to the drab living room and kitchen. Taking a seat in the living room, you pull out your computer from your bag as you flip on the TV. It’s Maxwell’s face again, smiling at you with the look of a used car salesman who swears he wants only the best for his favorite customer. You know it’s not a real smile. Maxwell has a dimple when he smiles, and this charade didn’t. You shake your head as his promises of whatever you want in this perfect future fill the room, your eyes refocusing on your laptop, refreshing your emails. One meeting...that was all you needed.

~~~~

You let out a frustrated sigh as the door slams closed, your mother letting out a cry of surprise at the sound before coming to find you, resting a concerned hand on your shoulder as you throw yourself onto the couch.

“He still won’t see you?” Her gentle words just cause your heart to ache further and you nod.

“His mom greeted me, invited me in and made me tea. We chatted, but as soon as I asked about Maxwell, she stood up and ushered me from the house, asking me to not come by anymore since I couldn’t seem to stop asking for him.” You turn to look at your mother, tears in your eyes. “Why won’t he see me, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” Your mother’s heart shatters at the broken light in your eyes. She knew how much Maxwell meant to you, and that having him refuse to see you was tearing you apart.

“My sweet, you’ve done nothing wrong. Maxwell has a lot of responsibility to take on now that he’s running his father’s company. He’s very busy and doesn’t have as much time to see friends as he use to.” She brushes your hair behind your ear with delicate fingers. “I’m sure he still cares about you.”

“I miss him, Mom. I miss my best friend. It’s been three years since I’ve seen him...” Seventeen years of life and you still struggle with keeping your emotions in check, especially when it comes to Maxwell.

“I know sweetheart...When the time is right, you will see him again…”

~~~~

The alert from your inbox pulls you from your reverie, your eyes refocusing on the screen. As they do, your heart stutters in your chest

‘To Whom It May Concern,

We graciously thank you for your interest in Lord Corp. Mr. Lord has personally reviewed your product and would like to arrange to meet you on Wednesday at 3 p.m. You will have thirty minutes to make your sales pitch and answer any questions he may have. The front desk will direct you when you arrive. Please bring a valid photo ID and copies of your pitch for convince. Do not be late, Mr. Lord’s time is incredibly valued.

Cordially,

Sam Preston

Personal Assistant to the CEO’

You had gotten it. That moment you needed on the inside...you had finally gotten it. A relieved smile graces your lips as you begin to amass your files. You had one shot at this, it had to be perfect.

~~~~

You stand alone in the cemetery as you watch the caretakers laying new sod over the fresh grave. Your heart feels hollow, and only the black lace veil conceals the tears streaming down your cheeks from the world around you. Today was beautiful; cool and still with the birds singing in the trees as the sun warmed the earth. It was too beautiful for a day filled with such grief.

As the caretakers pack up their tools, one stops to rest a hand on his shoulder, passing along his condolences before continuing on his way. You nod gratefully before kneeling beside the headstone. It is modest, small and simple with a delicate engraving of a singular rose by your mother’s name. Black-gloved fingers trace along each petal and letter, your shoulders shaking with silent cries. You were now well and truly alone.

You shouldn’t have had to be alone. He should have been there with you, you had made a promise to one another. You were there when his father passed, and his mother. He didn’t even have the time to attend his own mother’s funeral, but you did. You mourned for him as they lowered a woman close enough to be your second mother into the ground beside her husband. So why were you alone now?

Where are you Maxwell?

~~~~

Your hands work to smooth the front of your dress down before you enter the lobby of Lord Corp. Slate gray with a simple black belt that held nicely to your figure but didn’t reveal too much. Professional and classy, with a dash of sexy. Nothing beyond anything any self-respecting company owner would don. Head held high and the bag you specifically reserved for important business trips and meetings over your shoulder, you make your way inside, up to the front desk.

“Welcome to Lord Corp, where the future is yours, do you have an appointment?” The intern who greets you sounds like every last bit of his soul has been sapped from him, and you pity him. Giving him a sad smile, you nod, pulling out your ID.

“I do, at 3 pm with Mr. Lord.” You give him your name as he takes the card, looking you up in the system before nodding, handing you back your ID and a visitors badge which you quickly put around your neck.

“Lily Solutions, you’re still on schedule. I’ll have you head down the hall. Take your first left, you’ll find the elevators. Take it all the way to the top and have a seat on the bench outside the double doors at the end of the hall. Sam will come and get you when Mr. Lord is ready for you.” You smile sweetly at the young man, thanking him before following your instructions. Your ears pop on the way up and you grimace, pulling out the folder with your ‘sales pitch’ inside, flipping through to make sure everything is in order. As the doors slide open and you make your way down the hall, you sigh. This floor was so much more opulent than the ground floor and you feel so out of place. Floor to ceiling paintings like the walls, depicting grandiose battles. Priceless vases and sculptures sit along marble pedestals. It’s like walking through a museum rather than an office, and your jaw clenches as you think about how he had come to acquire some of these items. When you reach the bench, you take your seat and cross your ankles to wait, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Lily Solutions?” The voice that calls out for you immediately grates on your nerves, high pitched and nasally. Looking to your right, so you a man in a pressed navy blue suit make his way towards you, and you stand to meet him, taking his extended hand. “I am Sam Preston, Mr. Lord’s personal assistant. Did you bring your requested documents?” The way he looked down his nose at you makes your blood boil, but you paste on the sweetest smile you can, nodding as you hand over the folder.

“You’ll find copies of all requested articles inside, neatly labeled for yours and Mr. Lord’s personal convenience.” Sam makes a disinterested sound in the back of his throat, snapping the folder shut before checking his watch.

“Very good. This way.” He strides past you and as soon as he is in front of you, you drop the sweet smile. Maxwell, why hire someone like him? You shake your head as Sam opens the door at the end of the hall, getting your salesman smile in place. “Mr. Lord, your 3 o’clock is here from Lily Solutions.” Sam ushers you inside and you are taken aback once again at how over the top the design of the office is. Floor to ceiling windows line the whole back wall with arguably the best view in Metropolis and the curtains that hang every so often are of a rich red velvet with gold filigree. The marble tiles cause the click of your heels to echo as you make your way to the center of the room beside Sam, your eyes locked on the man sitting at the large mahogany desk.

It’s been seventeen years since you last saw Maxwell, and your heart ached for the man who appraises you with shrewd and cunning eyes. With a wave of his hand, Sam nods, leaving the folder on the desk to make his way out of the room. The large oaken door closing echos ominously through the room as Maxwell stands, coming around his desk to face you, hands in his pockets. If he recognized you at all, he didn’t show it.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Lord. I realize your time is very valuable, so I won’t keep you long.” Maxwell chuckles humorlessly at your greetings, leaning back against his desk.

“You say that, but you bring me this fake, garbage company in an attempt for a sales pitch?” His voice is rough and hard as flint, no trace of that gentle sound he once had. “What game are you playing?”

“No game, sir.”

“I don’t believe you.” He pushes off of his desk, walking back around it. “Everyone has a game they play, and if you’re not going to tell me yours, I’ll have you escorted out.” When he picks up the phone, your heart leaps into your throat and you dart forward pressing down on the receiver, cutting it off. He glares at you in disbelief. The audacity, he thinks, is astounding and he would make sure you suffer for it.

“Maxwell, please.” His eyes flash at the use of his first name, something in the way it sounds in your voice bringing him to pause. “I just need five minutes.”

~~~~~

Taglist is open! Requests are open!

#Maxwell lord #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x f!reader #wonder woman 84 #ww84 #my fic

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sooibian · 5 years ago

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Dittany

✨ part of the Spellbound collab series with insanely talented writers @hkynm @fullsuninbloom @blackberrykai and @j-pping

✨ pairing: hufflepuff!kyungsoo x ravenclaw!oc/reader ft. ravenclaw!chen

✨ themes: fluff, mild angst, slow burn, cheesy couples

✨ genre: hogwarts!au

✨ description: broken bones and a tedious detention - can I still say that this is the best christmas i've ever had? it’s because I found magic in him - the big eyed, dark haired, hufflepuff boy. funny I say that as a witch! but sadly, good things don’t last forever.

✨ word count: 16.5k

✨ tag list: @eggsodose @christiandosworld @imgonweast @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @changshapatrol @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @his-mochi-cheeks @charmedbaek @xiusoomygod @crescent-iak @gdaystays @mangobaek @keonaforever21 @staryyugy @hyckrens @yixing-jaebeom @halfbloodkjm @thepoeticfirefly

With a baggie of Caramel Cobwebs grasped between her fingers, he saw her head towards Gladrags Wizardwear. He feigned untied shoelaces as his friends Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Chen made a beeline for a table at The Three Broomsticks. He stayed just so that he could see her for just a little bit longer as she walked down the quaint but bustling lane of Hogsmeade. It baffled him how different she looked to him every time he saw her.

Yet she looked so familiar.

A sound of girls giggling reached his ears suddenly making him more aware. A jet of purple light shot in her direction and she stood frozen, right in the middle of the street, face buried in hands.

It enraged him to see her like this, weak and lost. With a flick of his wand he unbound her legs. Misty eyed, she hesitantly looked over her shoulder for a fleeting moment before hurrying into the safer confines of the shop as though nothing had happened.

This was their first ever trip to Hogsmeade and he thought J. Pippin's Potions worth the detour.

Rat tails. Porcupine quills. Billywig stings.

The Hair Raising potion had its benefits, after all.

A few drops of it in their pumpkin juice and those girls went around school with their hair standing on end. It made them the laughing-stock and not a single soul suspected the innocent looking, third-year Hufflepuff boy.

Professor Trelawney's got me feeling like I’ve downed an entire flask of Felix Felicis.

Maybe it was the fine sherry I brought her for Christmas and if I'm being honest she was most likely under the influence of some at the time - a bit too early in the day for such an indulgence but that’s just my opinion. Anyway, she has prophesied that today’s going to be a momentous day for me. She said it would “change the course of my destiny”. Jupiter has entered Pisces owing to which I’ll be able to open myself up more to the world. I shudder at the thought but her comically large, moony eyes bore a distinct hint of euphoria so I’ll take her word for it. And I don’t care what “opinions” other students - or even Professors for that matter - have of her but I’ll always believe that Divination is a highly compelling (albeit misunderstood) branch of magic.

And Professor Trelawney is a truly gifted Seer.

With a spring in my step, I'm practically galloping down the Great Hall after a hearty breakfast and Professor Flitwick is unfeignedly in his element. A peppy tune on his lips, he blossoms golden baubles out of his wand, trailing them over the branches of the new dozen of frost covered fir trees akin to a Maestro weaving a symphony with his baton. Christmas has always been an ethereal treat for the eyes at Hogwarts. The Castle is covered in several feet of silver snow, in the Great Hall thick streams of holly and mistletoe criss-cross the ceilings and enchanted snow falls warm and dry from it. While I do feel a little lonely sometimes, I'd rather spend the holidays here than back home with Gran.

Fourteen years of having to raise me all by herself after Mum and Dad passed away couldn’t have been easy. I reckon she could do well without having to unnecessarily fret over me during the holidays. And I could do very well without her persuasions, asking me to live up to the dreams my parents had had for me. Hopefully, she's enjoying herself with a cup or two of Firewhisky in the evenings in the company of her Ministry friends and gorging on those delicious Ugly Christmas Sweater Cookies and Liquorice Wands that she so relishes!

"Looks great, Professor!" I say to Professor Flitwick and with a cheery laugh he waves his wand bearing arm at me. I duck at the sudden attack of tinsels but one golden bauble nests in the loop of my topknot anyway. I think I'll keep it and use it for Hagrid's gift.

Hagrid!

A glance out the window behind the staff table and I resolve to brave the weather and pay him a long overdue visit. I have a little something for him and old Fang. I won’t lie, it helps to be the granddaughter of an influential woman for Hagrid’s Christmas presents don’t come easy.

Another great thing about Christmas is that I have the castle all to myself. The dormitory is vacant and the Common Room is far emptier than usual. And I’m spared the everyday torment of hushed whispers and giggles and the occasional “practical jokes”. Carefully, I bring Hagrid’s present out of its little pen to measure it up against the stray bauble. Not his size. He rapidly blinks his beetle brown eyes at me and crawls up my arm with a certain urgency, nestling into the crook of my neck. “Aww Mr. Twiggles”, I plop the Bowtruckle down onto my lap and wrap a pink ribbon around its knobbly brown arm. Placing him under an airy bronze cloche, alongside a huge slab of butterbeer fudge, I bid him adieu.

***

My butt is freezing, I’m pretty sure I heard something crack and it was definitely not the ice. A terrified Bowtruckle is smack in the middle of my face while I lie amidst crumbs of Butterbeer Fudge. Since this could be his only shot at freedom, Mr. Twiggles scuttles into the Forbidden Forest. Taking stock of the situation I realise that Fang’s present has now become one with the snow, I’ve lost Hagrid’s present to its natural habitat and probably snapped a few of my bones in the process.

But this is the least of my concerns.

My literal fall further down the school’s social structure has a witness - the Muggle-born Hufflepuff boy, who belongs to probably one of the most influential cliques in school. I don’t think much of them, to be honest. They’re just a babbling band of bumbling baboons. But can’t I have a day go by without being humiliated? Is that a lot to ask? Hagrid’s hut is barely ten feet from here. I wouldn’t mind breaking all of my bones in his company. He would’ve probably offered me some tea and his infamous rock cakes before carrying me to the Hospital Wing. Out of all the places in Hogwarts... out of all the places in the world...did this wide-eyed bloke really have to be here? Exactly in this moment? And just how many students is Hagrid friends with anyway? And why him? I swear I’ve never seen the boy smile. Not even when he’s with his rowdy friends.

This can’t be it.

This can’t be the ‘momentous day that changes the course of my destiny’. This is just like...any other rubbish day and it’s crushing my soul. I'm starting to believe that Divination is a whole lot of hogwash and Professor Trelawney is indeed a fraud. But at this point, I can’t feel my limbs and I really, really could use some help.

Squinting hard, the Muggle-born rushes to my aid. My lips begin to quiver and I feel warm tears trickle down my temples, further wetting my already damp hair. He stoops down and his eyes widen with surprise and recognition and he scoffs at my immobilized state. As he’s helping me up, I wrap my right arm around his shoulders. An imperceptible smile tugs at his lips as his left arm firms around my waist and before I know it, I’m standing on my own two feet - or one. My weight is supported by him and my good right leg. But before I can begin to thank him, a sharp pain shoots to my head and I see little stars buzzing around his ears. Maybe they are real!

“Wrackspurts”, I mumble and observe his lips form the shape of a heart when curved into a wide smile. His smile is….bewitching.

And it's the last thing I see.

***

Madam Pomfrey strongly insists on keeping me caged in for the night. She’s implacable and my protests are met with a standard taut response, “Broken bones are particularly dangerous in winters. You’re staying the night.” How do I explain that I feel fine and keeping me in will only make matters a LOT worse for me.

I have to go see the Hufflepuff boy.

I have absolutely no memory of the events that unfolded after I literally started seeing stars. Not Wrackspurts. Did he perhaps carry me to the Hospital Wing? I have no answers and this isn’t exactly the kind of topic I wish to broach with Madam Pomfrey. My throat dries up at the thought of him struggling to bring me all the way up here and it makes me actively consider a transfer to Beauxbatons - if that is indeed possible. Because this cannot be happening right now! Sixth year has been quiet and I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much.

I don’t know if the Hufflepuff boy will keep it down for me. Will he tell his friends about it? Will I become the talk of the town even before school resumes? Will he keep it to himself if I cut a deal with him? I don’t mind helping him out with schoolwork or something.

My delirious train of thought is interrupted by three rhythmic knocks on the slightly ajar double door.

It’s him.

He’s standing in the doorway, twiddling a rectangular purple box in his hands, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. Does he expect me to invite him in? What’s the protocol? Smoothing out the wrinkles in my blanket, I sit up slightly and crane my neck to find Madam Pomfrey who seems to be in her Office. Pursing my lips into an awkward smile, I turn to look at him and shrug noncommittally. He takes it as his cue to enter.

“This is for you.” He says in a low mellifluous voice which tastes like honeyed milk and gingerly places the box at the edge of my bed. Caramel Cobwebs. My favourite! He finds a seat at the edge of the other end of my bed.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to...and thank you for everything. I -”

His deep brown eyes suddenly meet mine and I lose all sense of speech.

“It was Hagrid who brought you here”, he says nonchalantly, drumming his fingers on his knees while allowing his large eyes to survey the sterile, sprawling infirmary.

Then why is he here?

“Aren’t you missing lunch?” I ask, unwrapping the box and offering the constellate of bite sized confectionery to him. “I’m not too hungry”, he says, guzzling down a few anyway. A soft smile touches the corners of his mouth.

Silence echoes in the Hospital Wing, save for our muted nibbling. It’s soothing in its sense of comfort as neither of us is particularly chatty. And that’s just as gratifying as the sweet treats.

“Looks like we have company!” The stern but kind Matron swooshes out of her office, scrutinizing the boy from top to bottom, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. She’s never been too fond of visitors. I remember the day I tagged along with Chen last year to visit his human banshee of a friend - Baekhyun.

A doxy had apparently sunk it’s double row sharp front teeth into his arm, injecting him with its venom. His dense idea was to experiment with doxy venom to appear ill just so that he could cut a couple of lessons with his dimwitted oaf - Chanyeol. While the latter went unscathed and even managed to extract an ounce of venom out of the doxy (cute fairies he liked to call them), the human banshee had to be brought into the Hospital Wing to be administered the Antidote to Uncommon Poisons. I only visited the boy who cackles like a goose to get a little look-see of what doxy venom could do to a person. But to my absolute dismay, he looked... peachy, with an annoying boxy grin plastered across his face. The Matron shooed Chen, me and the big oaf out in a matter of minutes. It’s not that I blame her. I would’ve probably done the same in view of the racket that ensued amidst their boisterous conversation.

Madam Pomfrey brings out a small vial of brown liquid and applies a few drops of it on my elbow. I hadn’t noticed the nasty wound my fall had left on it, up until then. A greenish smoke billows upward and it quickly clears out to make the wound look several days old and new skin stretches over what had been a deep cut.

“Dittany!” The Hufflepuff boy and I say in unison.

“Well done! 5 points each to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw!” Madam Pomfrey jokes as she peers over her spectacles and her gaze flits between him and me. I catch his heart shaped smile again. And for some reason, makes my stomach contract and my heart go into a somersault. Or maybe it’s the effect whatever Madam Pomfrey’s got me under.

The Matron raises her wand and points it at the table adjoining my bed. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets and a jug of a cold beverage appear with a pop.

It's honeyed milk.

She retracts into her office without pressing on him to leave and for that I am grateful. We share sandwiches in silence as a mildly bitter citrus aroma of Dittany wafts through the space between us. The plate endlessly refills itself but we’re both satiated by the third fill.

“I’m Kyungsoo, by the way. Sixth year.” He says in his dulcet tone and I take a huge gulp of the sweet nectar out of the goblet.

***

Madam Pomfrey sets me free with not one but two warnings. Avoid slippery outdoors if you’d like to enjoy the Christmas feast and Don’t count your owls before they are delivered. I’ll admit the second one is a bit difficult to stomach since I had my eyes trained on the door for the better part of the morning. It comes in fine print at the bottom of the letter of acceptance - steer clear of parent-less weirdos who believe in Divination and Nargles. Of course the sweet and quiet Kyungsoo received the same letter.

After having sent Hagrid a Christmas greeting via an owl, I head over to the library. Its musty fragrance clears my mind off trivial sentiments. Sixth year is no child’s play and I need to read up on Apparition to avoid having a limb splinched especially after yesterday’s disaster.

“Umm...HI!”, a chirpy voice startles me and I almost collapse into the Restricted Section. This voice is a little too sprightly for a deserted library and its owner looks like someone who does not belong in school during the holiday season. Her dazzling smile perfectly complements the twinkle in her eyes. She’s one of those girls but she seems nice? My puzzled expression asks her the obvious questions.

“Sorry! Professor Slughorn asked me to give this to you.” She hands me a rich parchment. It’s a letter addressed to me in the most exquisite cursive inviting me to dinner held by Professor H.E.F Slughorn.

Bleaaargh!

The girl is still here, eyes beaming with curiosity, “It’s for the Slug Club, right? What’s it all about? Well... I’ve always wondered.” Her voice trails off in an awkward giggle.

“Be my guest!”

It’ll help to have a slightly known, apparently friendly face in an obnoxious crowd.

***

I’m no stranger to the opulent ways of prestigious wizarding families but this isn’t something one would expect to see in a Professor’s office at Hogwarts. It’s barely even an office! It’s an enormous tent bathed in a dim orange of the sunset with its ceiling and walls draped in emerald hangings. The deep melody of violins drowns the frantic squeaking of house elves who are obscured by the heavy silver platters of the finest hors d'oeuvres.

A circular dining area is set up right in the middle of the room where most of the invitees have taken their seats. There aren’t too many compared to last year. No Warlocks, no Vampires. Just a handful of students with their guests and a couple of past students - Slughorn’s proteges of course - who’ve managed to carve a name for themselves all thanks to the powerful connections he’d helped them forge through this very same Club. Or so he’d rather believe.

The tap on my shoulder strikes me with the realization that I’m still stood at the entrance. It’s my chirpy guest! The fifth year Gryffindor Prefect. One awkward small talk later, we find our seats at the ostentatious table.

Despite the grandiose, this is a rather intimate gathering. But judging by Professor Slughorn’s enthusiasm, the turnout is certainly not off-putting to him. He drones on about his overachieving handpicked students and I let my mind wander into the distance while Miss Prefect is certainly taken by the charms of this first-class motley. Well, at least someone’s liking it here.

“Kyungsoo, m’boy!” Slughorn jumps mid-feast at the sight of the newest entrant to this coalition, almost causing me to choke on my roast duck, “Welcome, welcome!”

At a gesture from Slughorn, he sits down in the empty chair next to me and mutters a velvety ‘hullo’ in my direction and I’ve suddenly lost my appetite thanks to the butterflies in my stomach. He’s dressed casually in blue denims and a beige knit sweater yet he’s shining brighter than Sirius among all these boys in their finest ensembles.

“This young man is the only sixth year I’ve ever seen who’s managed to concoct the Draught of Living Death”, he takes a dramatic pause to peer at his guests over his spectacles before meeting my eyes, “flawlessly!”

Almost everyone at the table acknowledges Kyungsoo with a smile or a slight nod, save for a few overtly arrogant Purebloods who merely grunt in response or completely ignore his accomplishment. I, on the other hand, have my eyes trained on the roast duck to keep my erratic heartbeat in check.

Slughorn gears up for another act, “So tell us, Mister Doh, what exactly does your family do in the Muggle world?” His smile is cold, unwelcoming.

“My Mum is a chef, Professor...my parents own a restaurant.” Kyungsoo answers.

Slughorn contemplates on his answer for a while with a ‘hmm’, “A Muggle-born, eh?”, he lifts an eyebrow, “But the fumes from his cauldron almost lulled this old man into a deep slumber”, he chortles, wagging a sausage like finger, only to receive cold silence in response from everyone else except one invitee.

The feline eyed man laughs the loudest at Slughorn’s pathetic joke. One might think it’s probably out of sympathy. But it’s not. He seems to have actually found that funny.

Slughorn introduces him as Minseok Kim and goes on to sing praises about this former student of his. Slytherin. Excellent potioneer. One of the youngest registered animagi.

His animagus is a cat.

Minseok interrupts Slughorn’s discourse with an uncomfortable laugh showcasing his wide gummy grin, “You give me too much credit, Professor!”

“You’ve made me proud, my son! So tell us how your career as a Magizoologist is treating you? Well, I hope? Your uncle Soo Man Lee, a notable Warlock and a dear friend of mine, wrote to me saying that you happened to cross paths with an obscurus during one of your recent travels! That must have been...” Professor Slughorn shakes his head in horror and awe as his voice tails away.

“It’s certainly a story for a different occasion, Professor. Although, it happens to be one of my most memorable experiences.” Something about Minseok’s discomfit demeanour tells me he’d rather have a tête-à-tête with the obscurus than with Professor Slughorn. I take an instant liking to this man.

“Minseok, we happen to have an aspiring Magizoologist in our company”, I loathe the nickname. It’s a garb. It’s a lie. But the conversation seamlessly steers towards me as a dozen pairs of eyes follow Professor Slughorn’s snivelling gaze. Clearing my throat, I say to Minseok, “I’m delighted to meet you - ”

“My dear, if I may ask and I hope you won’t mind”, Professor Slughorn interrupts me, per usual. Kyungsoo lets out a barely audible annoyed grunt and I hold my breath in anticipation of what he’s about to say next. Slughorn has a knack for broaching treacherous territories with utmost eloquence. I didn’t think it was possible for me to despise this gathering any more than I already do. I know where he’s going. I know what he’s going to say next. He’s going to play the Devil’s (Gran’s) Advocate.

This is not a party. It’s an intervention which serves as an offhanded reminder of my parents’ gruesome deaths.

“You come from a lineage of Aurors par excellence. Your grandparents with whom I had the great fortune of exchanging notes and secrets in these very same classrooms. Your parents…. a tremendous loss to our world…”

At this point, I’ve lost Professor Slughorn.

He’s testing me again to see if I have any of my parents’ flair. I do not. Magizoologist is just a veil that conceals my seemingly purposeless life. I’m not sure what I want to be. Or who I want to be. If there’s one thing I know it’s that I don’t want to end up like my parents. Neither am I brave nor am I self sacrificial. Their deaths, I’ve come to terms with. It’s the torture they went through that keeps me up most nights - the unimaginable pain of the Cruciatus Curse before they were engulfed in blinding green light. My throat seizes up and I chew on the insides of my cheeks to feel pain that’s more superficial.

My sweaty palms clutch at the hem of my silk lilac dress. I feel hesitant fingers gently graze the back of my left hand, steadying the tremble. Judging by my lack of protest, Kyungsoo’s grip around my hand courageously strengthens.

In subliminal comfort.

I don’t feel cornered anymore.

KYUNGSOO

Oh I shouldn’t have.

OH BOY I SHOULD NOT HAVE!

I’m not a pervert. In my defense her hand was right there! Trembling. Astray. Seeking shelter.

Asking to be held.

She didn’t say a word to me after that ridiculous party. I couldn’t muster the courage to say anything to her, either. What could I have said? I’m sorry? That would’ve been dishonest. I wasn’t sorry about it at all. Are you alright? I didn’t want her to feel any more uncomfortable than she already did. So I left it at that. Like I always do.

Because I’m a coward.

She swooped out with her friend as soon as the snoozefest was over, leaving her food completely untouched. In fact, I didn’t catch her taking a bite out of anything ever since I arrived. Her slender fingers were gracefully wrapped around a silver goblet the entire time.

It’s always been like that with her. She always needs something or the other to physically hold on to. The straps of her bag, books, remembralls, whatever she can find. I notice these little things about her. I always have. But to her I’m only a face in the crowd. The very same crowd she fights shy of. I don’t blame her. It is quite rare for pretty girls to notice me.

And she’s ethereal.

Year One

My heart was hammering in my chest as I was ridiculously close to missing the Hogwarts Express. Partially because the oddly named Platform was nowhere to be found and I was starting to think of the entire thing as an elaborate prank. And when we did end up finding the way to the Platform by following a snooty wizarding couple who seemed to be seeing their daughter off, I quite frankly lost my mind at the prospect of having to run through a solid wall to get to it.

I said a final word of my goodbye to my teary-eyed mother.

Earlier in the day, her theatrical sobfest went on for hours after she progressed from outright denial and came to terms with the fact that witches and wizards do exist and that her only son is in fact a wizard. He wasn’t going to take over his parents’ restaurant business like she’d always hoped he would. Honestly, at this point he’s not entirely sure what his future beholds but he’s a wizard and is indeed very happy about it.

But I didn’t dare say this to her.

I pretended to be upset about having to practically move out at the age of eleven. In all honesty, I was mildly upset but far more excited about this school I’d, obviously, never heard of before the Letter arrived - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

But it wasn’t long before all of my bubbling excitement was reduced to a pile of rubbish.

I had lost my little pouch of wizard money which I thought I'd carefully tucked into the back pocket of my jeans only to find out about it seconds prior to having to pay for the strange but oddly tempting treats. I felt myself shrink under the kind old lady’s sympathetic gaze as I put my little confectionery treasure back to where it belonged. On the top of her trolley. Suddenly, the embarrassing rumble of my stomach was drowned by a welcome jingle of coins.

The second year boy in my compartment - who later introduced himself as Baekhyun Byun - paid for the treats instead. I didn’t like him at first since he had a permanent smile plastered across his face, was giggly and extremely chatty. He’d told me all kinds of sorting stories which made me want to take the same train back home. I discovered his annoyingly loud chewing habits while sharing a stack of Cauldron Cakes with him. But I guess a happy stomach makes one truly tolerant.

We tried to offer Pumpkin Pasties to the girl in our compartment who had her face buried in a book right since the moment she boarded. Baekhyun even tried to strike up a conversation with her, multiple times, but to no avail. She’d only respond in nods and slight smiles.

After a point, we gave up. There’s no cure to snobbery.

There was an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach even after having annihilated five Chocolate Frogs, a dozen Liquorice Wands, six Pumpkin Pasties and two Cauldron Cakes. It wasn't even the first day yet and I’d lost ten Galleons in wizarding money which equalled fifty Pounds in muggle money which equalled two meals at our restaurant.

The rain thickened as the train sped further north. Baekhyun pulled on his long black robe, gave me all of his Chocolate Frog cards and scurried ahead with his trunk leaving me alone with the oddball. We were nearly there.

“Here”, she said, thrusting a heavy, knotted pink cloth in my hands before exiting the compartment in a rush.

It was five Galleons neatly wrapped in a cloth that smelled exactly like the “farewell” cake Mum baked me.

Vanilla.

***

We didn’t have to wrestle a troll or turn a fat rat yellow for the Sorting Ceremony like Baekhyun said we’d have to.

“RAVENCLAW!” the Hat bellowed and the girl from the Hogwarts Express found her place amidst the brains at Hogwarts (as Baekhyun liked to call them) and that didn’t leave me surprised at all.

When the strict witch called out my name I almost stumbled upon a step on my way up to the wooden stool. For no particular reason the word “Ravenclaw” rolled off my tongue and the Hat contemplated, “Intelligent and hard-working, eh? Hmm….where should I place you...I see. I see! HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table next to Ravenclaw cheered me on as a ghost, the Fat Friar, swooshed past me in what was supposed to be a bone chilling embrace. I caught her eyes and she gave me a little wave.

Ravenclaw...at least I knew where to find her. I’ll return her money but not the piece of cloth.

It is a reminder of home.

Year Two

Am I invisible to her?

Every time I’ve so much as smiled at her she’s returned it with an unreadable expression like that lady in the fake painting at our restaurant. If I approach her and she doesn’t recognize me, I’ll be making a complete ass out of myself. Anyway, she probably thinks I’m not good enough to be seen around with but third-year Chen is. People say she belongs to one of the oldest wizarding families and she sure does act like royalty. I guess, five Galleons to her is nothing but a drop in the ocean.

***

While Professor Sprout thinks I’m the next Tilden Toots - a celebrity Herbologist and Potioneer, Professor Snape’s way of expressing his satisfaction with my abilities in Potions was with a scowl and a barely audible “five points to Hufflepuff.”

Most of the students think of Potions as a lot of hard work but to me, it’s really not. I don’t entirely blame them. The classes are held in a dungeon and the Potions Master looms over us with a murderous intent but if you ignore all of that it’s just intricacies of timing and stirring techniques.

The Hair Raising potion was disgusting to concoct especially since one of the key ingredients was rat tails and three counter clockwise stirs left the cauldron with a sickening green residue causing the entire dungeon to smell like a dead rat.

I must admit, Hogwarts is one weird school. What on earth would I need this potion for?

Year Three

Whenever I’ve tried to avoid the joined at the hips duo Baekhyun and Chanyeol, I’ve found myself in their ear splitting company. By now, I’ve resigned to my fate. My fellow Hufflepuff Yoongi isn’t up for much these days. To be honest, he’s always liked to stick to the confines of the Hufflepuff dorm and that’s kind of a downer.

So I spend almost all of my free time in the company of the Perpetually In Detention duo and their Ravenclaw friend Chen. And I realise that I can never be Chen. Chen is perfect in every way. He’s polite, he’s intelligent, and at such a young age he’s got his life planned out. He wants to work for the Ministry of Magic. Which, I believe, is a cakewalk for the likes of him. He’s also kinda good looking. While we’re all struggling with embarrassing bulk sticking out of odd places and less than appealing skin, he could very well replace Gilderoy Lockhart for the next issue of Witch Weekly.

***

When I saw her head toward Gladrags Wizardwear, fingers clutched at a baggie of Caramel Cobwebs, I feigned untied shoelaces as Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Chen made their way into The Three Broomsticks. Suddenly, a jet of purple light shot in her direction and a sound of girls giggling reached my ears. She stood frozen in the middle of the street, face buried in hands and with a flick of my wand I unbound her legs. Misty eyed, she hesitantly looked over her shoulder for a fleeting moment before hurrying into the safer confines of the shop as though nothing had happened.

This was our first ever trip to Hogsmeade and I thought J. Pippin's Potions worth the detour.

Rat tails. Porcupine quills. Billywig stings.

The Hair Raising potion had its benefits, after all.

A few drops of it in their pumpkin juice and not a single soul suspected the innocent looking, third-year Hufflepuff boy.

Year Four

Hagrid seemed quite proud of his crate full of Blast-Ended Skrewts. They were cuddly creatures, very useful and made for exceptional pets.

If you looked at them with Hagrid’s beady brown, affectionate eyes.

Everyone in class was visibly disturbed at the sight of them. Yoongi was quite close to disappearing into the Forbidden Forest. But that’s just him - slimy, foul smelling, shell-less lobsters or not. I wouldn’t be surprised if he chose, out of the blue, to live as a hermit in the company of centaurs. Not sure if he’s aware that they’re averse to humans.

Smiling, she took two graceful steps towards the crate as the rest of us took two steps back. Then four, then six as her waist length hair rippled down her shoulders and sunlight bounced off the silver trinkets in her ears. Perhaps motivated by her deep affection for Hagrid and anything non-human, she dipped a piece of frog liver to tempt the freshly hatched Skrewts.

It was pointless. Skrewts don’t have mouths. Mine is carefully locked away in a little pen under my bed. Honestly, I don’t care whether it survives the semester or not.

Anyway, she ended up earning a roaring applause from Hagrid and ten points for Ravenclaw.

I found myself following her to the hideous crate like my legs had a mind of their own while Yoongi gaped at me in horror. I don’t know what struck me but I’m pretty sure that I don’t love Hagrid enough to get stung by an ugly lobster.

But she had her eyes lovingly trained on the Skrewts the entire time and my valiant battle against a six inch burning, biting and stinging hybrid went completely unnoticed by her.

Would I have to transfigure into an ugly Skrewt to get her attention? Or gulp down a vial of Polyjuice Potion to look like Chen?

I’d still lack his charm.

Year Five

How Chanyeol and Baekhyun managed to advance to the sixth year is anyone’s guess, really.

Because at this point I wish I had a Time Turner. Twenty four hours in a day are not enough for what the O.W.L.s demand. I’ve got Potions, Arithmancy, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic and Defence Against The Dark Arts.

And Divination is entirely her fault.

There’s one thing, though, that Trelawney’s “Inner Eye” was right about - Everything is not as bad as it seems, my dear. It’s true. Professor Slughorn isn’t half as bad as Professor Snape. Although he’s a little vain and self-serving, I have a better shot at earning an O in Potions with him than I could have ever had with Snape. Where Snape would dismiss my nearly perfect brews with a grunt, I manage to earn some real points for Hufflepuff with Slughorn.

Professor Sprout, ever so confident in my abilities, had laughed away my Career Advice session by calling me the next Tilden Toots. Her face fell slightly when I told her that I aspired to be Tilden Toots the Potioneer and not Tilden Toots the Herbologist.

But my dreams won’t materialize if I don’t have near perfect scores in Charms and Arithmancy and these are the two subjects that have kept me away from my “happening” social life.

I’d been haunting the Hufflepuff common room with my fingers in my ears, muttering soundlessly and my dear friend Yoongi chose to “take a quick catnap for a refreshed mind” every chance he got. I haven’t seen them in a while - Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Chen and their Quidditch friends Kai and Sehun. With twelve (failed) study schedules strewn on the floor and six weeks left until the exams, I seized my copy of Defensive Magical Theory and stepped out of the dorm for some fresh air and mindless chatter.

Last I’d heard, they’d managed to earn themselves a week’s worth of detention for setting off Filibuster’s Fireworks in Filch’s office.

What I witnessed in the corridor on my way out made me stop dead in my tracks. Chen had his arm around her shoulders as they walked along the hallway laughing and talking animatedly. This was the happiest I had ever seen her in all these years. At the sight of them, I felt a paralyzing dread seep into my consciousness.

I hated it.

I hated to see her happy. With him. A part of me saw this coming but I could’ve never prepared myself for it and I immediately regretted leaving the unwitting confines of my Common Room.

Seething, I went in the other direction, taking a detour for the Quidditch pitch, to find those clowns.

With them, I could very well drift in and out of conversations. While I lacked patience for most of their rubbish and I usually brought my earmuffs along, today was different. I needed to hear something refreshing to get my mind off the horrible fragmented flashbacks of what I’d witnessed just minutes ago. It’s probably nothing and they’re just friends but the nagging rebuttal to my ‘just friends’ argument is making me restless.

To my absolute horror, Chen breezed into the pitch with an annoying grin on his face, cheeks flushed. I felt the knot in my stomach tighten.

“Guys! I asked her out and she said yes!” He announced to the world in his usual thunderous scream invoking a deafening response from the rest of them. Slamming my copy of Defensive Magical Theory shut, I rushed to the common room, ignoring Kai calling out for me.

Year Six

Study hard and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so and the consequences may be... severe.

And rewarded, I was. With 6 Os, 2 Es (Arithmancy and Defence Against the Dark Arts) and 1 A (Divination). Yoongi had managed to scrape through with a decent O.W.Ls score as well. And “Chen’s girlfriend” had topped the year, per usual. With 8 O’s and 1 E in Defence Against The Dark Arts, having messed up one counter jinx in the practicals. She’s strangely under confident when it comes to this subject.

My house-elf friend Winky smuggled in a congratulatory vanilla cake - a Muggle recipe I’d helped her recreate.

***

So turns out “Chen’s girlfriend” isn’t Chen’s girlfriend.

I mean, Chen has a girlfriend but it’s not the girl from the Hogwarts Express. It’s the Ravenclaw Head Girl. Because I spent nearly half a year sulking, slogging away in the library, feeling betrayed for no particular reason, despite my well above average O.W.Ls score I felt like a complete idiot.

The bearer of good news was Chanyeol Park.

Who enraged me and made me want to kiss a Blast-Ended Skrewt on its non-existent mouth at the same time with, “Of course he’s not dating that Ravenclaw oddball. He’s dating the Ravenclaw Head Girl.”

Smacking him on the head with my copy of Advanced Potion Making, I decided to spend the upcoming Christmas at school.

It’s now or never.

***

She’s SUCH an idiot!

A freezing, injured, drenched, clumsy idiot.

A Bowtruckle whirred past me into the Forbidden Forest as I rushed to help her off the ground. Tergeo, I muttered to siphon the blood off her elbow and hoisted her up not long before she collapsed into my arms.

She’s a cute idiot whose pain is… my gain.

“Why aren’t you home for the holidays?”

Howling, a chilly breeze engulfs us but the panoramic view of the landscape from the Wooden Bridge is well worth it. As is the mildly attractive Hufflepuff boy who’d asked, very shyly, if he could see me here.

“My parents are always busy with the restaurant during the holidays, anyway. Thought I’d use this time to prepare better in advance for N.E.W.T.s”, says a red-nosed, shivering Kyungsoo.

He’s ambitious as he is kind. “So, are you?”

“Hmm?”

“Preparing for... N.E.W.T.s?”

“No. Something’s kept me busy.” An imperceptible smile tugs at his lips and I find myself unconsciously mirroring him. It’s freezing out here but my cheeks are ablaze.

“What has?” My tone is unwavering but his rich pause has me dreading as well as anticipating the answer.

“The Patronus Charm”, he says, “All I can manage is formless silver vapour.”

Oh.

“I could help if you like.” I turn to face him to find his confused expression uncoil into a toasty smile.

“You can conjure an actual corporeal Patronus?” His excitable voice is not as deep as his regular talking voice but it’s melodic anyway.

Nodding, I say, “Let’s go.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes aren’t exactly trusting. I’ve brought him to the seventh floor and we’re gawking at a tapestry of trolls ridiculously bent in a plier. If I were him, I wouldn’t trust me either. But Hogwarts is an ancient castle and I’ve spent a good amount of time recceing it’s rooms, hallways, and everything in between. Yet, I discover something new, every time.

Last year, I discovered this - The Room of Requirement - or as Meady likes to call it - the Come and Go Room.

“Okay, so we’re going to walk past the area of this door, thrice, thinking clearly of what we need.” Pointing at the wall opposite the funny tapestry, I say to Kyungsoo but a look of sheer confusion mixed with worry clouds his face.

“We’re going to think of a large, dingy classroom where we can have our lessons without anyone disturbing us.”

His expression is short of saying, ‘You’re crazy. Goodbye.’ Despite that, he valiantly follows my instruction.

After the third pass we’re in a spacious classroom completely devoid of any furniture, save for two desks.

“Ahhh”, hands on hips, he gapes in surprise surveying the dimly lit room, “but...we could’ve practised anywhere. Why here?”

“For the effect?” My fingers clutch at the edge of the desk as a knot tightens in my stomach and I find myself hoping that he stays.

His ha-ha-ha echoes in the room and his voice is at it’s high pitch again, “Shall we?”

Nodding, I take the centre of the class, “So the incantation is ‘Expecto Patronum’”

“Of that, I am aware.”

“Great now concentrate hard on a happy memory. I know it’s going to be tough without an actual Dementor or even a Boggart to practise on. But let’s give it a try, alright? Professor Flitwick taught me using a Boggart last year. I didn’t leave him alo -- sorry I’m rambling. Okay, happy memory... now...go!”

Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut and his face screws up in concentration. With a swish of his wand he stutters, “Ex-expecto Patronus!”

Nothing except peals of laughter echo in the room.

“Lets go again. Together now.” I say patting his shoulder.

Signalling each other with a nod we try again, “Expecto Patronum!”

A lynx rises out the end of my wand, trotting across the room before diffusing into nothingness. While Kyungsoo manages to issue a not so tangible cloud of silver.

A few tries later, he manifests something visibly stronger but he’s not quite there yet. And we’re both exhausted. I fish for a Chocolate Frog in the pockets of my cardigan and hand it to him.

“This charm is ridiculously advanced! How about we try again after Christmas?” Leaning on one of the desks, he offers dejectedly, nibbling at the Frog’s head.

I gladly accept it.

***

Owing to the small number of students that have stayed back this year, the House tables have been put aside and a single table has been set up for the Christmas feast. As if it were the most natural thing to do in the world, Kyungsoo comes and sits next to me. I hope he doesn’t hold my hand like he did during Slughorn’s party or maybe I hope that he does. I hope we do get to hold hands often and discuss what happened at the party. But we’re both great at pretending that nothing unusual did. The Gryffindor Prefect is somewhere on the other end of the table, chatting to a fellow Gryffindor. And the spread, as always, is sumptuous.

Digging into a delectable roast turkey I ask Kyungsoo, “What’s Christmas like in the Muggle world?”

“Isn’t half as exciting as it is here. For starters, we have no Wizard Crackers. Or silver Sickles hidden within puddings.” He says toying with the cardboard tube moments before it went off like a canon, covering him in a cloud of blue smoke. A flurry of white mice scamper down his legs and scurry out of the Great Hall.

His mouth drops, inviting a roar of laughter from the rest of the table and he chooses to steer clear of the Crackers for the rest of the Feast.

He insists on dropping me off to the Ravenclaw Common Room, “I’ll see you again tomorrow? Six in the evening, the Room of Requirement?”

It’s a date?

***

Today’s class wasn’t nearly as bad as the previous one but God knows Kyungsoo’s in a dire need of practise.

We sit on the floor after two scarcely productive hours with our stash of Chocolate Frogs pooled in the space between us.

“Here’s something I don’t get about Muggleborns. How are your parents okay with sending their children away to an entirely different world? Doesn’t matter what Professor Dumbledore has to say, I refuse to believe Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the world. We have moving staircases, a murderous tree, Quidditch, and Filch!”

His laugh reverberates in the empty classroom, “It’s not much of a trade off, really. The Muggle world has its own set of issues.” He unwraps a Chocolate Frog and offers it to me, “You live with your grandmother, right?”

“My fierce, retired Auror, grandmother. Yes. And you?”

“With my parents. I’m an only child. And you’re right. My mother wasn’t very keen on sending me away but she couldn’t risk their restaurant being reduced to a pile of ash every time I threw a temper tantrum.”

“You don’t look like the temper tantrum sort.”

“Ah you underestimate me.” He chuckles, “so the holidays end soon and I don’t have a Patronus which means our classes will have to continue. You’re okay with that, right?”

“Very much”, I nod but an upsetting finality pulls at me.

“Is there anything...you’d like to do on the last day of the holidays?” He fixes his gaze on my feet.

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Do you want to...well I was thinking if...I need to procure some Wolfsbane from the Forbidden Forest would you like to come with?”

“Are you daft? Do you have any idea what sorts of -”

“Creatures dwell in the Forest? Yeah, I’ve been there, multiple times.”

“And you haven’t been caught? Mauled? Battered?”

He sighs, “Unfortunately, not once.”

Meeting his unflinching gaze I welcome my impending doom, “Okay...maybe I’ll end up finding Twiggles in one of those Wiggentrees but don’t abandon me if Werewolves come for us.”

***

I guess there’s a first time for everything. But it’s my first time flouting a rule and getting caught. My adventurous friend from Hufflepuff seems absolutely unperturbed by the ghastly smile that’s spread across Filch’s face. And anything that makes Filch this happy can’t be good news. Kyungsoo shoves the bunch of Wolfsbane down the pocket of his jeans and I just stand there as an unwitting accomplice to his dumbassery. To my dumbassery. I should’ve never agreed to this. I didn’t even have any luck with Twiggles. But then again Bowtruckles are master camouflagers. What was I expecting?

“Follow me”, the sadistic old man wheezes and my legs feel bound by shackles. Kyungsoo tugs at my arm and teary eyed, I slowly shake my head. He laughs mouthing, ‘It’s nothing.’ Maybe it’s nothing to him considering the company he keeps. What if I get expelled? Where will I go? It’ll be enough reason for Gran to disown me but this bespectacled charming boy doesn’t have a lot to lose now, does he? He can waltz back into his Muggle world and work in his ‘restaurant’. Of course he’s an exceptional cook if he trades recipes with freaking house-elves! I can’t end up having a life worse than squibs. Boys are trouble unless they’re Chen. I literally never should’ve. What of this was a trap all along? I’m SUCH a fool!

I find myself in the part of the vast echoing Entrance Hall I’ve deliberately avoided in all these years. It’s foul smelling, really dull and a cat menacingly meows at us while curling around her Master’s feet.

Room 234-00. Filch’s office.

Coughing, the caretaker points at the chains and manacles that are hung from the ceiling, “I keep ‘em well oiled in case they’re needed. The Forbidden Forest, eh? Brave enough for Acromantulas and Werewolves, are we?” His face is barely inches away from Kyungsoo’s and I feel a sudden pump of adrenaline, “Sir, please, it was a mistake. We promise to never venture into the Forest again. We promise to never venture out of our own dormitories again. Please, please just let us go!”

Filch is taken aback by my plea and Kyungsoo has pursed his lips, holding in a laugh and I feel stupid.

With the sound of a crack, Filch’s equipment of torture comes crashing to the floor. Mrs Norris’ tail shoots up in fear and a raucous laugh echoes in the room souring Filch’s mood, “PEEVES!”

“Nasty Filch! Leave the luuuuurve birds alone! Leave them alone! Loony woony filthy Filch!” An invisible Peeves’ annoying cackle resounds before ceasing with a deafening crack.

Filch is boiling in rage. I tilt my head to look at the slightly experienced in disciplinary matters Kyungsoo and judging by his sullen expression, we’ve had it.

Does he think that I somehow jinxed his great expedition to the Forest? Because it’s been two days since the start of semester and there’s no sign of Kyungsoo. Neither in the Great Hall, nor in the classes I share with Hufflepuff. Is he avoiding me now that his friends are back? The lump in my throat aches.

“Oww!”

Chen greets me with a smack of a book on my head, “I MISSED YOU, GOBLIN!”

I’ll never get used to Chen’s incessant need to announce everything to the world to get his point across but seeing him makes me realise just how much I’d missed him, too. Despite his dig at my height and an underhanded compliment to my brain. He slumps into the chair next to me, activating his ability to speak like a banshee. Not very different from his white haired Gryffindor friend.

“So tell me. How was Christmas? Did you get the set of Wizard Chess I sent you? We should play sometime. Thanks for the Floo Connection, by the way! It was really thoughtful of you and I love it! My darling loved it a lot, too but I had a tough time explaining it to my folks. So how was Christmas?”

I wait patiently for my closest friend in school to finish babbling before telling him what I think he’d like to hear about my little adventures. Or the information Kyungsoo would rather have me share. The nagging feeling that he’s been avoiding me weighs me down like a rock.

“So you broke your leg, told Slughorn off and earned yourself Detention with a Hufflepuff boy who happened to be in the Forest at the same time as you. All of this in a matter of two weeks? Wait, why were you in the Forest again?” Chen is amused but also a little suspicious.

“I told you! I was bored. I went looking for the Bowtruckle!” I argue, needlessly.

“Bored? Didn’t you have to read up on Apparition? Also, you of all the people should know how elusive Bowtruckles are, Miss Magizoologist!” I cringe at the nickname. “And who is this Hufflepuff boy?” I wouldn’t be surprised if Chen were a Legilimens.

Letting out an exasperated sigh I answer, “Some Kwangsoo something?”

“Glasses? Kinda short? Squints a lot? Brooding?”

“So you know him, Mister Tall Guy?” I ask, inviting another smack on my head.

“Yes, through Baekhyun. I mean, haven’t you seen him with us? His name is Kyungsoo, by the way.” Chen’s not particularly suspicious now which bolsters my confidence to spew rubbish.

“No I haven’t. It’s probably because I can hear you guys before I can see you and I prefer not to violate my eyes like I do my ears when I’m around any of you. I hope this answers your question.” I think it was a bit much but Chen breaks into a fit of laughter.

“Then you’ve probably not heard him, either. He isn’t a lot like us.” He contemplates, “but don’t you look around in class? You haven’t ever noticed him before? He’s in the same year as you! You’re ridiculous!”

Of course I’ve noticed him.

Every time he’s tried to talk to me, return my money, earned points for his house or even a sneer from Snape. Every time Madam Pomfrey has cooed at him. Even when he braved feeding a Skrewt. I’ve seen him in the hallways, in classes, in the Great Hall.

But to know someone is to invite heartache and I’ve had my fair share of it.

“You mean he isn’t noisy like the rest of you. And no I haven’t. It’s probably because he’s not as attractive as a Merperson or as lithe as a Basilisk.” I lie. He’s not anything like the magical creatures I’ve studied about. He is a human. And humans are too tricky for my liking. Two weeks with him, two days without him and I seem to have lost my marbles.

Guess, I am pathetic if not ridiculous.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him around either”, Jongdae ponders.

***

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Maybe it was too direct but I need to get this weight off my chest. I can’t spend every Saturday until the end of term with him in close quarters, clearing out Filch’s old files (the Muggle way) with animosity looming between us. Peeves is enough trouble with his water bombs already. And Kyungsoo’s silent treatment is simply too much.

He brings me Caramel Cobwebs, holds my hand and refuses to talk about it, insists on being tutored, spends Christmas with me, lands me in Detention and starts avoiding me as soon as his friends are back.

“I caused you trouble and you seemed so disturbed by it. I’m sorry. I’ve not been avoiding you...I just thought maybe you wouldn’t like to see me again.” Mumbles Kyungsoo, dropping Filch’s File Number 27 on the floor, leaving a mess of loose, dusty papers.

‘Butterfingers’ here isn’t right at all. I’ve been dying to see him.

I help him clear the mess by re-filing the records of the 27th file in alphabetical order.

“I’m not mad at you. I was a tad bit worried, that’s all. This is my first time being...punished and none of this is your fault. I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.”

His little smile and an understanding nod makes my heart flutter. Snapping out of it, I read out an amusing record from a random file, “at least we’re not pickling rat brains in the dungeons.”

His eyes grow wide in horror, “What?”

“Sehun Oh and Kai Kim for bewitching snowballs to hit Professor Snape!” I summarise.

Kyungsoo guffaws, “Yes! This was last year. Baekhyun had dared them to it and those idiots thought Snape wouldn’t notice. They ended up reeking of dead rats for two weeks after that. Nobody would go near them! Not even Baekhyun.”

I put the file back with an ‘ahh’, “So Kai Kim, Sehun Oh, Baekhyun Byun are your friends right? And Chen, too?”

“Yeah, Chen and Chanyeol Park. Why?”

Of course, the Great Oaf.

“Nothing, you’re quite different from them.”

“How so?” Resting his chin in his hand, Kyungsoo inquires and avoiding his eyes I reply, “Well, you’re not very noisy or mischievous?”

He chuckles, “I’m not noisy that’s true. But I literally took you to the Forbidden Forest and it’s the reason why we’re here today sifting through these records. Will you still say that I’m not mischievous, Miss Ravenclaw?”

“I take back my words, Mister Hufflepuff”, I need to get away from this sweet talker, “Now let’s look for more, shall we? Filch certainly has your friends’ adventures chronicled in these files.”

“We’ll probably find something on Chen, too.” He says quietly.

“No wayyy! Chen’s perfect.” I protest.

He throws a file onto the desk, creating a cloud of dust, “What if we do end up finding something about him here, in these records? Then what?”

“Then I’ll….do whatever you ask!”

Why! Why?

“It’s a deal!”

***

Kyungsoo and I have been seeing each other fortnightly for the sake of Dementors. Let’s just say if he were required to actually fight one off today, he’d end up having his soul sucked out. Does the boy have no solid happy memory or what? Or maybe I’m just a terrible guide.

In class, we’re cordial. But somewhat distracted.

We spend all of our Saturdays together. Turns out he’s a couple of weeks older than me which means we both qualify for Apparition Lessons. The lessons are scheduled for Saturday mornings and we spend the rest of the day in Detention.

The first lesson was...quite unforgettable.

For Kyungsoo, me and whoever was witness to our idiocy. Professor Flitwick positioned Ravenclaws into a line as did Professor Sprout with Hufflepuff which had Kyungsoo and me standing next to each other with the requisite distance of five feet between us. The Instructor from the Ministry waved his wand and old-fashioned wooden hoops appeared on the floor in front of us.

“Destination. Determination. Deliberation!” The man who was a white wispy version of humans, squeaked.

“Concentrate upon the destination now. Which is within the hoop. Then focus on your determination to occupy the visualized space. And when I give a command, on three, turn on your spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation!”

Kyungsoo gave me one furtive glance and I lost all sense of Destination and Determination.

“On my command….one….”

I spun on the spot, lost my balance and fell over and Kyungsoo crash landed into my wooden hoop. With our Professors’ eyes on us, I felt myself melt into a puddle of embarrassment.

The inexplicable tension crowding the office during Detention that day left hardly any room for conversation. Which was kind of okay considering the ground we covered with Filch’s wretched files.

Although, the next lesson found us positioned at the two opposite ends of our respective House lines by Professor Flitwick.

Despite being in the same room, I missed Kyungsoo.

Transfiguration hasn’t been particularly eventful with Kyungsoo. With Professor McGonagall’s hawk-like eyes on us, we don’t dare to so much as shoot a glance in each other’s direction.

But last week was different.

In a lesson that included conjuring a flock of birds out of our wands, the entire class managed a few feathers, some gross mutations, and severed heads. Everyone except Kyungsoo. He’d succeeded in creating several twittering birds in his third try. Which was not so great for me since the little yellow chirpers zoomed in my direction and circled around my head, singing merrily. This continued even after most of the class, including Professor McGonagall, had already left. His idea of an apology for the inconvenience was flashing his heart-shaped smile.

I guess it doesn’t take a lot for me to forgive him.

***

It’s nearing the end of the third month of the semester and there’s no dirt on Chen.

Like I’d said, he’s perfect. We’ve found volumes on the other two, though. Chanyeol and Baekhyun. How they’ve not been expelled yet is anyone’s guess. These delinquents make my little Forest excursion look like a joke.

They’ve set off dungbombs in Snape’s dungeon, cursed each other and ended up having a slug attack right in the middle of their Astronomy practicals, got caught sneaking out of their dorms after curfew only eleven times, transfigured McGonagall’s desk into a ferret to ‘showcase their Transfiguration prowess’, set off Filibuster’s Fireworks in Filch’s office, distracted Filch by jinxing Mrs Norris with Tarantallegra - her legs spasmed wildly out of control, making her appear as though she were dancing.

No wonder they’re the only students Peeves gets on with.

This little vault of information made Kyungsoo exceptionally happy after moping around for not having anything on Chen, yet. He’s going to use these embarrassing incidents (one of the punishments included cleaning out the bedpans in the Hospital Wing without using magic) against the two of them, he says.

Detention and shared classes is the only time Kyungsoo and I get to see each other since sixth year is no cakewalk.

Free periods come by few and far between and are used to keep up with the vast amount of homework we’re being set. We’re studying as though we have exams everyday and lessons themselves are far more demanding than they used to be. Especially since we’re required to use Nonverbal spells now in every lesson that requires incantation. I often catch Kyungsoo’s motley around school. Somehow, they’re everywhere but he’s hardly ever to be seen with them. Working hard towards his ambition to become a Potioneer, I suppose. I wish I were just as passionate about something.

Sixth year is an anomaly.

Professor Sprout says we’re allowed to swear loudly in today’s lesson since we’re going to be dealing with one of the most dangerous plants ever - Venomous Tentacula - a green, spiky, toothsome magical plant with mobile vines that tries to grab living prey. Kyungsoo quietly stations himself next to me in the greenhouse inviting snarky sideway looks and hushed whispers from a couple of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws around us. “She’s latched on to him now”, sniggers a Ravenclaw boy and I notice Kyungsoo ears turn scarlet.

A pair of thick gloves on, Professor Sprout takes her place behind a trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse, “We’ll be extracting Venomous Tentacula’s essence for Professor Slughorn’s experimental Potion No 7 today. Now, who can tell me how we should proceed to extract essence out of a plant that could try to strangle you?”

Kyungsoo’s hand rose in the air like it always does during Potions and Herbology, “By using the Severing Charm, Professor.”

“Excellent. Ten points to Hufflepuff”, Professor Sprout beams at her favourite student, “We’ll use the Severing Charm but Nonverbally. Which will stun Venomous Tentacula and sever its mobile vines. Along with me, on three. One...two...”

I nearly squeal as one of the Tentacula’s sharp fangs grazes my arm. Kyungsoo notices and in a state of panic tries to stun my plant for me only to get seized and bitten by his own. “Diffindo”, I flick my wand at Kyungsoo’s plant, flailing it and flouting the nonverbal spell rule but it’s too late for any of that. The plant’s poison, although non-fatal, has started working on Kyungsoo.

His skin turns bright purple, knocking the wind out of me.

Professor Sprout rushes him to the Hospital Wing.

***

On Professor Sprout’s special request, Filch has begrudgingly exempted Kyungsoo from this week’s Detention. I saw him for Apparition this morning and we’d both managed to, with Destination, Determination and Deliberation in mind of course, land into our own hoops.

Kyungsoo looked perfectly fine. Which is to say the purple of his skin from yesterday has been washed over by the roses of his cheeks and the honey of his skin. Madam Pomfrey was required to keep him in only for the day as Professor Sprout was quick to act and the poison hadn’t caused much harm. I feel like a bad friend for not having visited him since lessons ended in the a.m. with Astronomy but he says he was out in a couple of hours at most.

He’s planned to spend the rest of the day with his friends who he’d not had a chance to catch up with off lately.

By late afternoon I’d unexpectedly fallen into a state of blissful slumber on one of Filch’s old files. Coughing, I woke up engulfed by dust. I had to admit, Detention was boring without Kyungsoo and it’s honestly starting to scare me how used to I gotten to his presence, the faint scent of eucalyptus that trails after him and the ambrosial warmth that infiltrates through his seemingly tougher exterior.

But at the same time I regret misreading him. Mistrusting him or sometimes trusting him too much. He’s nothing like I thought he’d be. His simplicity is comforting but at the same time it is truly baffling. Maybe it’s okay to not give it much thought and let Jupiter do its celestial dance while I do mine by recreating damaged detention records.

#1116

>> Chen Kim

>> Lack of concentration in Charms resulting in production of a hoselike jet of water instead of a fountain from his wand, knocking Professor Flitwick flat on his face in the process

>> Lines - ‘I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick.’

>> Issued by Professor Flitwick

>> Points taken: None

I do a double take when I read the name.

Chen! Chen? Chen in Detention? How did I never know about this? Even if it’s just lines it is still a punishment. And how did The (then) Ravenclaw Prefect Chen mess up a Charm in Professor Flitwick’s class? I must know. But Kyungsoo’s got to see this first! I quickly replicate the record on a spare parchment and shove it in my bag and with a flick of my wand, I place everything exactly where it belongs in Filch’s office. What’s he going to do about it when he finds out? Give me another detention? Bring it on!

Throwing caution to the wind I allow my feet to take me where Kyungsoo said he’d be. Swiftly descending down the staircase, I exit out the side door down the corridor off the Entrance Hall and run towards the courtyard feeling the harsh winds tugging against my skin.

It’s unusually cold for the first day of April.

Seated between Chanyeol and Baekhyun, he’s laughing away seemingly at the two lanky boys - Kai and Sehun who’ve got their wands at the ready. The courtyard is oddly vacant, save for these four rioters and Kyungsoo.

Even Chen’s not here.

All banter comes to an abrupt halt when Kyungsoo’s eyes meet mine, his expression solid as a rock. With a barely perceptible shake of his head he’s signalling me to walk away from here and maybe this is what it feels like being punched in the gut. Four curious pairs of eyes flit between Kyungsoo and me and I feel too numb to even get out of there. Did I make a mistake being here? Is he too embarrassed to acknowledge me in front of his friends? The frigidity of his expression is eating away at my insides. Moments of complete stillness later I sprint out of the courtyard amidst wolf whistles and peals of laughter.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I wipe the angry tears rolling down my cheeks and vow to never see this doe eyed pretender again.

KYUNGSOO

It’s been two weeks since the incident.

Two whole weeks of her arriving after and leaving before me for our shared lessons. She’s even charted up a Detention routine which limits our interactions to curt nods and dismissive grunts. Needless to say, I still don’t know how to conjure a corporeal Patronus. She thinks she’s the only one I could’ve asked? Not Baekhyun. Not Chanyeol’s Slytherin friend. Just her?

So much for her big Ravenclaw brains.

She walks around all high and mighty displaying her knack for embarrassing honesty but in the moments of truth she plays ostrich. I wasn’t trying to avoid her. I would never. But she’s a complete idiot who’d rather believe otherwise. An idiot who’ll never look into my eyes to feel what I feel. Even if she does, she’d just never accept it. It took me five and a half years to get her to talk to me. And if it takes just one misunderstanding to drive her away like that, I’m not sure if I want to try again.

The only two things I’ve gained out of my short lived acquaintance with Kyungsoo Doh are Detention and a new foul nickname “the girl who follows Kyungsoo around.”

I hear it everywhere I go. The Great Hall, the corridors and the Common Room isn’t very forgiving either. So all thanks to Kyungsoo, I’ve retracted into my wretched shell. I arrive late for lessons and swoop out like an owl as soon as it’s over. I spend every free period in one corner of the Library and try to avoid the Common Room as much as I can.

All these years I spent pretending like the cute, short, portly boy I met on the Hogwarts Express didn’t exist were far better than the last couple of months of letting him into my small Universe. In all honesty, I’ve started to loathe him. It takes immense self control for me to not have his pretty face eat slugs every time I cross paths every time I lay my eyes on it.

“Now, this one here….who can tell me what this is. My dear boy, Kyungsoo?” Holding a vial of liquid pearl in the air for us to see, play-acts Professor Slughorn. Another potential victim of my out-of-character slug attack.

“It’s Amortentia”, Kyungsoo’s voice reaches my ears from the far end of the dungeon.

“It is indeed. It almost seems foolish to ask”, he says, bringing the vial to my eye level, “but I assume you could tell me what it does?”

“It’s a love potion, Professor.” I say.

“It’s not just a love potion, sir. It’s the most powerful love potion in the world.” Kyungsoo offers and I feel the heat rising up my cheeks. I hate having this volley regarding a love potion with Kyungsoo.

“Excellent! And how did you recognize it, my dear?” Slughorn directs his question to me.

“By its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen.”

“And?” His theatrics redirect to Kyungsoo.

“And the steam rising in characteristic spirals.” His dulcet tone echoes in the gloomy dungeon.

“Well, well, take ten well-earned points each for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw”, says Slughorn genially, “would you two please be kind enough to come forward?”

Kyungsoo and I take, in what it seems like, ages to be stood on either side of Slughorn, arms over our chests, looking in opposite directions.

“There is one more key characteristic --”

“It’s supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us”, Interrupting Slughorn, Kyungsoo and I garble.

“So to demonstrate”, Slughorn brings the vial closer to my face, “my dear?”

Consumed by the heady steam rising out of the potion, I clear my throat, “I can smell honey and...eucalyptus and….” Dittany. But I leave it at that, “That’s all Professor.”

“Very well, Mister Doh?” Slughorn quizzes.

“Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion…..Vanilla and …..Dittany.”

***

‘Evanesco!’

With that my last bottle of Sleekeazy vanishes in thin air.

“What are you doing up so late?” Chen’s groggy voice makes me jump but I counter, “What are you doing up so late?”

“Early. Up so early. It’s three in the morning”, yawning he waves his Charms textbook in front of my face, “Protean Charm.”

“Vanishing Spell”, I say pointing my wand at the empty table in front of us.

Chen relaxes into the chair next to mine and I let my gaze wander around the deserted Common Room. It really is a work of art encapsulated in all the blue and bronze. The stars painted over the domed ceiling, shine the brightest at this hour of the night, waltzing gracefully across the midnight blue carpet. If they were my stars, they’d wobble and fall owing to their two left feet. Could they, in the very least, give me a reason for this nagging ache in my chest?

‘Aguamenti!’

Drenched and dishevelled by a jet of cold water that shot out of Chen’s wand, I silence his raucous laugh and shower him with the choicest expletives before lifting the spell and drying myself.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR!” I demand.

“You seemed so lost I was tempted. It’s what my dad uses to wake me up when I oversleep, you know? A nice cold bucket of water.” Chen’s snicker causes me to silence him again and he continues to blather soundlessly. How is this idiot so energetic at three in the morning!

“I’m going to bed”, wearily, I get up to leave and wave my wand at him.

“Wait! Stay”, says Chen, “It’s been quite a while!”

Groaning I slump back into the chair without further protest, “You’re right...so how’s our Head Girl doing?”

“She’s doing great. We’re doing great! She’s signed up to intern with the Ministry this summer under a certain Arthur Weasley...The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office.” Chen beams and making me want to pinch his cheeks in adoration.

“Congratulations Chen! Ah but I’m not surprised. She’s always been as bright as a button.” I can’t help but coo at these lovebirds. At how absolutely smitten they are with each other while I suffer with an inexplicable tug of longing.

“And you, not so bright. Stopped following Kyungsoo around, have we?” Putting on his ‘big brother cloak’ he quizzes me with a raised eyebrow and I shrink back into my chair out of embarrassment, “You know about it?”

“The whole school’s talking about it!”

“I’ve stopped ‘following him around’ now why isn’t anybody talking about that, eh?” My anger is misdirected at Chen.

“He’s been talking about that. About how you’ve been acting like he’s invisible. A notch below satisfactory behaviour, am I right?” The low rumble of his voice thunders.

“You’re defending your stupid friend here! So much for being unbiased, hah!” Seething, I argue.

“You’re absolutely right Dung Brains I am defending my stupid friend here which is you. Now tell me, airhead, what’s it called when two wizards have their wands pointed at each other, in a combative position.”

I groan, he can’t really be asking me that but the urging silence is uncomfortable.

“A duel”, I mumble.

“You, my dear, were walking straight into a battlefield of hair-brained blokes who were surrounded by stink pellets, dungbombs and fireworks. It was only natural for Kyungsoo to ask you to skedaddle, make a run for it...save your life! If only you’d have let him explain?”

Guilt courses through my veins and I find myself in the defensive, “But then why didn’t he just tell me instead of giving me that terrifying look? I thought he’s ...I thought he didn’t want to see me...and..and why didn’t he do anything when those great prunes started laughing at me? Also why do they keep causing trouble everywhere they go? Do they want to fill up Filch’s office with their records before they graduate? It only means more work for me. And for Kyungsoo.”

“They were celebrating a Muggle custom, April Fools’ Day as per the wise counsel of their frog brained leader Baekhyun and Kyungsoo was only trying to protect you. And you were too obtuse to see that. Why won’t you give him a chance? He’s one of the good ones, you know? And those prunes aren’t too bad either. They were laughing not at you but at him...they’re just happy for their friend.”

“Happy? Why?” My heart goes into a wild frenzy.

“You should ask him that. We’re going to be at the Three Broomsticks for Baekhyun’s birthday celebration on our trip to Hogsmeade this Saturday. So naturally, your Detention is suspended for the week. Come along?” He eyes me expectantly.

“Not in a million years”, I deadpan.

“Don’t be stupid”, with a flick of his wand he makes the three bottles of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion reappear, “and live a little.”

***

On Saturday morning I went down for breakfast feeling thoroughly depressed but trying my best to act normal. Kyungsoo was seated with Yoongi at the Hufflepuff table. He was stealing glances at the Ravenclaw table before his eyes met mine. Pursing his lips he nodded slightly in acknowledgment. For a fleeting second I had a strange desire of joining him at the Hufflepuff table but I quietly slipped into my seat besides the fifth year girl who’s been tutoring Kyungsoo’s friend Kai and has been a tad chipper ever since.

The largest portion of my headspace has been occupied with an internal debate on whether I should apologize to Kyungsoo or not. But I’ve noticed how he’d not been trying too hard either. If I handed him the Detention routine he went along with it without a single word of protest. If I’ve been ignoring him in class he hasn’t been exactly forthcoming. The familiar sense of finality sets deep into my bones and I’ve lost my appetite. I gulp down my tea and slip out of the Great Hall to pay Hagrid a long overdue visit.

They never tire of it.

The two boys from Slytherin provoked me to strike them with the Twitchy-Ear hex. They’d found it particularly amusing to call me by my stale nickname as I made my way down to Gladrags Wizardwear to buy Hagrid a new moleskin robe.

He’d been exceptionally understanding despite my despicable behaviour. Not having visited him in nearly six months and communicated with him only via a flurry of owls, I had no idea Fangs had been suffering with distemper. Kyungsoo’s been helping out with a self prepared brew to keep him stable. Explains why he’s been frequenting Hagrid’s hut. Also explains why he didn’t come see me on the second day that I’d spent in the Hospital Wing.

And my attitude towards him explains exactly why he chose to keep the truth about helping me get to the Hospital Wing that day.

I don’t know how to thank him or apologize to him. Maybe he’s just better off without me.

I am here in Hogsmeade on a whim.

As the sun fades into a deeper blue my feet stop outside The Three Broomsticks and I’m desperate to see him. But he’s at a friend’s party and I’d only be making it awkward for everyone.

“Hullo”, a familiar honeyed voice reaches my ears making me stop dead in my tracks.

Taken by surprise, I turn and tip my head back slightly to look up at the large eyed boy, his face bearing that lethal heart shaped smile. I hug myself despite the warmth of May wishing I could make myself smaller.

Having rehearsed an entire apology speech in the shower in the morning, I found myself strangely tongue tied at the sight of him. He prods me to walk the quaint streets of Hogsmeade by his side.

“I’m sorry”, staring into the distance, I muster with a giddy head and a seized up throat.

“No. I’m sorry”, says Kyungsoo as his hand slowly finds mine, inviting stares from passersby, “I should’ve...communicated better. But promise to never shut me out again? I couldn’t take it.”

Fireworks go off in my head at the sudden contact, “No, no I’m sorry I should’ve trusted you and… I promise to never shut you out again.” I couldn’t take it either.

“So what are we now?” He interjects, lacing his warm fingers with mine.

If only he could hear the thunder of my heart, “We’re friends again?”

“Friends who fancy each other? Isn’t that a bit odd?”

“I-- umm, I--”.

“I --- umm?” He teases, “Okay...I fancy you. I always have. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

Going up on my toes I plant a little kiss on his jaw, I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I’ve finally gone mad.

His fingers run over his jaw lightly and he chuckles, “If you attack me like this again I’d have to report you to Professor Sprout.” Letting go off my hand he wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I feel a tingling sensation run down my spine.

Having circled the rural settlement for nearly an hour, we’re famished. We find ourselves on the High Street, right outside of Honeydukes, “After you, M’lady!” Crouching down in a bow, Kyungsoo gestures me to walk in.

M’lady?

Together we stare in wonder at the shelves upon shelves of the most succulent looking sweets imaginable. We’ve both, individually, been here countless times but together we feel like children lost in wonderland. I realize how light my pockets feel as Kyungsoo’s eyes wander around the shop ambitiously.

“Kyungsoo, I only have enough for Hagrid’s moleskin robe. I didn’t think I’d need a lot of gold for this trip...I could make a quick run to a Cashpoint first”, embarrassed, I admit.

“If we were to compound the five Galleons that I’ve owed you for six years now, I’m certain I could buy you half the shop!” The portly Ambrosius Flume, the owner of Honeydukes, clears his throat in annoyance at Kyungsoo’s comment, eyeing us suspiciously.

Buy half the shop we did.

Kyungsoo wasn’t entirely lucky with all the flavours of Berti Botts having sampled soap, dirt and earwax while I almost choked on a rotten-egg flavoured one. The Pepper Imps had us breathing fire at each other and a lock of my hair got caught in the line which Kyungsoo doused just in time and saved my scalp from going up in flames. We pigged on Peppermint Toads which made us sick after they literally started hopping frantically in our stomachs.

Kyungsoo suggested we make a quick stop at Dogweed and Deathcap for a handful of leaves of a very foul smelling plant that were supposed to help us keep our barbaric fare down. When I absolutely refused to chew on them, Kyungsoo force fed me. The weird red dotted black leaves made our mouths go completely dry and left us with a pungent after taste.

“If you wanted me dead, you could’ve just used the Unforgivable Curse instead!” I cried.

We realized if we weren’t quick about it, we’d just end up breaking curfew so we sprinted to Gladrags Wizardwear to pick up Hagrid’s robe only to be tempted to by the thought of staying longer in each other’s company. Going back to Hogwarts meant being held hostage by the blue and bronze and the yellow and black. I’ve never appreciated Hogwarts’ divisive House system, even more so now.

“We’ll make it in time if we leave exactly at 9:30 p.m.” Kyungsoo reasons.

“How much longer do we have now?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“20ish?” he says sheepishly.

Burying my face into his warm and fuzzy sweater, I whine, “That’s not a lot.”

Squeezing me in a hug he says, “Then let’s make the most of it!”

We enter the shop that’s apparently been dressing ‘the Elegant Wizard’ for over two centuries with lurid socks and flashy robes. I chance upon a moleskin one which I quickly set aside for Hagrid and a furry red one with silver and gold stars that bounced off of it. I egged Kyungsoo to try it on over his all black Muggle clothing along with a bright yellow hat made out of chicken and pheasant feathers. He on the other hand picked out a black velvet robe with a high collar, a set of fake fangs and dragon hide boots that made me look like a vicar at something that the Muggles call a “rock concert.”

The disapproving help at the shop agreed to get our magazine cover worthy looks on camera. She said she’d get them printed and that we could get a copy on our next visit for fifteen Sickles.

Along with Hagrid’s robe, I purchased a pair of socks for the birthday boy Baekhyun. They were patterned with wolves that howled when the socks got too smelly.

And then, just like that, it was time for us to go back to Hogwarts.

***

Which came first; the Phoenix or the Flame?

The eagle knocker drawls and for the first time in six years I have no clue what it’s talking about. I’ve lost all ability to reason and all I want to right now is run over to the Hufflepuff Tower. A tall, thin boy who stood leaned against the wall next to the door comes out of the shadows ‘tsk-ing’ at me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the smart ones? Did Kyungsoo really manage to dumb you down?” He chuckles before proceeding to answer the knocker, leading us into the Common Room.

I choose to not answer him but he continues to look at me questioningly. He extends his arm and says, “I’m Sehun Oh, fifth-year.”

“I know”, I say, “I’m --”

“I know who you are. The pretty girl who’s captured Kyungsoo’s heart thus breaking mine.” He dramatically clutches at his chest, falls and rolls over on the floor.

Excusing myself, I softly apologize to the elongated Flobberworm and head over to the Dormitory.

“Wait!”, he calls out, “I didn’t mean to weird you out! Are you up for a game of Chess? You’re practically a friend now… considering what you have going on with Kyungsoo. And I’m really bored.”

What do I have going on with Kyungsoo and what does Flobberworm know about it?

Unsure of my role here as a friend or an entertainer, I decide to indulge him with, “...just one game!”

“Wicked! Let me call Chen and you can ask his girl to join.. also Miss Ravenclaw!”

“Aren’t we all Ravenclaw?”

“Sorry...you know the girl who’s tutoring Kai?”

This is by far the most eventful day I’ve had in all of my six years at Hogwarts.

***

Resting his chin on my shoulder, he’s circled his arms around my waist as we stare into the distance from the Wooden Bridge. Every free period finds us together, somewhere very far away from prying eyes. The seventh floor and the Bridge are our usual haunts. Although, we think of these excursions as extremely detrimental to our upcoming exams, we realize there’s nothing to be gained out of fighting a troll. That is, our intense feelings for each other. But I’m not that brave and honestly neither is he. The shadows underneath his eyes are self explanatory.

“We need to chart up a study schedule. We barely have any time left!” I say bursting out of our saccharine bubble.

“Sure”, he nods, “whatever you say.”

“Kyungsoo!” Freeing myself from his embrace I turn around to face him, “We need to make it to the seventh year!”

“Who says we won’t?”

He’s loopy.

“Kyungsoo!”

“That’s me.”

“Kyungsoo!”

He pulls me into a hug again and I’m close enough to see the constellation of moles on his neck. “Mmm Sleekeazy”, he hums, sniffing my hair. Distracting me.

“Do you need some?” I ask, immediately realising how his hair seems to be getting shorter each day. I run a hand over his head, “guess you don’t. What do you keep doing with your hair?”

“I like it like that. It’s more comfortable”, he sighs, “Wait! You don’t like it?”

“I can learn to live with it. Besides, more Sleekeazy for me. Keeps my hair from looking like a bunch of Flobberworms!”

Flobberworm!

I have a Chess game to win!

“Kyungsoo! I have to go. I need to win this time. That Sehun boy is ridiculously good at Chess. Even Chen and I together don’t stand a chance against him.”

“Wait! You’re abandoning me for Sehun?” He asks, mock angrily.

“Noooo! I just….have to win this time. And you need to go chart up a study schedule for us. Also, what are you doing next week?”

“Whatever you’re doing next week”, he says, batting his eyelashes. And I try to suppress a smile.

“Have you ever watched a Quidditch match before?”

“Baekhyun’s Captain of Gryffindor, Kai is the Keeper. Chanyeol is the captain of the Slytherin team and Sehun’s the Seeker for Ravenclaw. And Yoongi is a lousy Beater. So yes, I have. Except I’ve never found myself rooting for my own House. And if you tell those Mandrakes this, I’m afraid I will have to break up with you despite you being the prettiest, smartest, nicest girl I’ve ever met. I’m sorry I don’t make the rules.”

“Aww”, I tease, “Noted. And you could’ve just said yes. Let’s watch the Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw match next week?”

“We’ll be in different stands!” He cries.

“Oh! That’s absolutely terrible but can we go anyway? I finally have someone to root for.”

“You’ve always had Ravenclaw to root for!”

“No, silly! Sehun Oh.”

“Ah! Of course”, he says, putting his arms around me. Again.

***

On the morning of the match, I had my game face on. I don’t even know why.

Having successfully followed the study schedule that Kyungsoo had laid out for us, our mood was light, and we were ready to let our hair down. Which, for all practical purposes, wasn’t something Kyungsoo was capable of. We were walking up to the pitch until it was time for us to go our separate ways.

“You turn right and I’ll go left”, I instruct Kyungsoo.

“I’m aware of where the Hufflepuff stands are. Thank you for your consideration.”

“Okay then”, I giggle, “see you later?”

“No...you’re joining me in the Hufflepuff stands.”

“Do you want me to get expelled? Was that your grand scheme all along?”

“Of course they’re going to expel you for this. And if they do, I promise to voluntarily drop out.”

“What will we do then? Deal in stolen artefacts?”

“Looks like you have it all planned out.”

“No, I just know someone...great we’re off on a tangent again! No, I’m not joining you in the Hufflepuff stands. Bye bye Kyungsoo Doh. See you later!”

“You’re bound by law to break the law”, he hands me a neatly folded parchment, “Chen’s detention record. When you came to see me that day, it made me wonder. What was so important? So I went back to sift through the records you’d worked on and voila!”

“What’s ‘voila’?”

“Don’t digress. Come along, house-elf and find me a good seat.”

“Yessir”, I give up. And covering all the blue and bronze of my uniform with the black robe, I sneak into the Hufflepuff stands.

The things I do for this bald idiot.

The pitch is pulsing with a contagious energy and I find myself completely engaged as soon as Madam Hooch’s first whistle sounds. All the whizzing and whirring players make my head spin so I have my eyes trained on the Ravenclaw goalpost except for when I’m checking up on Sehun’s progress with the Snitch. Ravenclaw hasn’t been doing too well and with the game down to it’s final few minutes, Sehun really is their only hope. Kyungsoo pulls me down everytime I jump or squeal for the Ravenclaw side, “Do you want to get thrashed?” he whispers.

And just then the commentator shouts, “Ravenclaw’s Seeker Sehun has caught the Snitch! RAVENCLAW HAS WON THE MATCH!”

My voice is hoarse from all the screaming. I turn around to face Kyungsoo pulling him in a tight hug annoying all the Hufflepuff fans around us.

In a fleeting moment of exhilaration, his lips are on mine and the world stops.

***

"Happy memory!" I parrot for our last lesson before the year ends but Kyungsoo seems to be awfully distracted. That teasing smile on his face he's trying not so hard to contain is making my heart thump against my ribcage.

"Focus", I croon once again with mock annoyance but my brain is mush and I feel like I'm levitating because there's no way my jelly legs could be supporting my stance right now. He sways closer to give me a quick peck on the nose.

"Happy memory", he whispers as his eyes search mine. Brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face, he allows his thumb to softly caress my cheek. His fingers pry for mine before they're intertwined in a steady grip.

We take our positions, raise our wands and yell with a flick, "Expecto Patronum!"

Two lynxes dance around the Room of Requirement illuminating it with the gleam of their silver.

Dumbstruck, I tilt my head to face Kyungsoo, “Your Patronus...”

“Our Patronuses”, he whispers.

“We have the same --”

Kyungsoo reaches for my waist and draws me close, his plush lips an agonizing touch away from mine. Twirling my fingers in the seams of his robe, I close my eyes and feel my breath hitch in my throat. A tingling sensation spreads through every fragment of my being as his hand finds the back of my neck and his lips meet mine in a dizzying kiss.

Two Years Later

My house looks wonky.

And, no. It’s not the after effect of Apparating here. A wonky house held up by charms in the middle of nowhere was the only thing Kyungsoo and I could afford with his meagre pay at J. Pippin’s Potions and the modest “severance” I received after being practically disinherited by Gran for wasting my time with a Muggle-born.

I trudge the short distance from the shabby front garden to the main door, weary from my dismal performance in today’s Stealth and Tracking lesson.

The door swings open and the pungent odour coming out from Kyungsoo’s makeshift Apothecary in our basement makes me want to barf. Putting a bubble around my head to avoid the smell, I traipse to the basement.

A bald Kyungsoo is bent over a cauldron, the steam from which has fogged up his glasses and has apparently made him go deaf. I poke him on his shoulder to grab his attention, making him jump. Therefore causing his little vials to smash on the floor.

I just set us back by twenty Galleons.

Kyungsoo is quick to clear the sloppy and shard-y mess I’d made and reverse the Bubble Head charm I’d put myself under. He covers up the putrid cauldron immediately.

Tears well up in my eyes and I lean into his chest.

The world is bleak.

“You’re home”, he coaxes, gently running a gloved hand over my head.

“Remind me again why I chose to become an Auror? I could’ve done anything with my perfect N.E.W.T. scores. I’m disastrous at this!” I’m sobbing against his soft ‘t-shirt’ as he comforts me with a ‘shhh..it’s okay’. “The chickens have made such a mess in the coop, Soo and I haven’t heard back from the Auror Office on the internship yet. We have a piteous stack of gold in our vault at Gringotts….” sniffling I continue, “You know we could just keep our money in a safe here..those clever Goblins are making so much money out of our money! The vault is a bad decision...we’re losing more money because of it. I hate the vault and the chickens and this house! What if it crumbles down while we’re asleep? What will we do then?” I pull away from him, my wide eyes demanding answers.

“We won’t have to worry about much if the roof comes crashing on us”, He reasons with a slight teasing smile.

“The very stringent Auror Office accepted you because you’re a brilliant witch and right, I believe you enrolled with them only to spite Gran. And honestly my love, you’re being too hard on yourself. You did really well on the Concealment and Disguise training, didn’t you?” He says, lifting my chin up.

“Also on the Memory Charm”, I offer quietly, making him chuckle.

“Exactly! What else is bothering you? Ahh the chickens and the vault?”

“Also the fact that Gran hates you and your parents think I’m a sinister witch who has tied their son down”, my lips begin to tremble again.

He sighs.

“I promise to take care of the chicken situation tomorrow and my love, we finally have a reason to keep that vault”, his eyes enlarge into beautiful brown circles and his plush lips stretch into a heart. A shrill pitch betrays his otherwise deep, calm voice, “Dogweed and Deathcap has offered me a job with a pay raise and a free supply of ingredients! Which is a great thing because ever since you’ve started your Auror training you’ve practically emptied my Dittany stores!”

“KYUNGSOO! I’m so happy for you!” Screaming, I jump into his arms and he twirls me around, dancing and giggling.

Panting, he says excitedly, “Wait! There’s more. Apparently the article on the benefits of Confusing Concoction I co-authored with Slughorn’s Warlock friend’s daft grand nephew?”

I nod vigorously.

“That article really took off! One of the reviews called me a ‘promising Potioneer’! Gran apparently got a whiff of that article...”

My expression soured, “And?”

“She’s invited us home to discuss it!” He rummages for a letter in his desk drawer and hands it to me, “Take a look at this!”

The letter reads in Gran’s shrewd yet artistic handwriting. She mentions, to the best of her abilities, how proud she is of me for following my parents’ footsteps and that she’d like to see us for dinner to discuss our ‘future’.

“She’s coming around”, Kyungsoo crouches to peer into my blank eyes.

“Took her long enough.”

“There’s one more thing”, he says sheepishly.

It looks like an evening full of surprises.

Kyungsoo gives me a glossy magazine with a still picture of a woman in the most garish outfit I’ve ever seen with the word VOGUE sprawled across her scrawny frame in big bold white letters.

“Soo, why are you giving me a Muggle magazine?”

“For Muggle clothing inspo.”

I hate it when he uses these ridiculous foreign terms like “inspo” and “voila”. “Voila” is definitely his favourite.

“Why would I need clothing inspiration, Soo? Do you not like what I wear?”

“I love what you wear. Even when you don’t wear --”

“Soo!”

“Okay umm we have to take a trip to London...my parents would like to have us over for the weekend….you’re”, he pauses, “you’re okay with that right?”

It’s a lot to process.

What if they prosecute me by hanging? I’ve read about what Muggles do to witches. Idly running through the pages of the magazine which suddenly seems too heavy for my arms, I buy time. Kyungsoo patiently waits for my answer.

“What’s ‘goss’?” I mumble, eyes trained on ‘Vogue’.

“Gossip?”

“Ahh...I have some ‘goss’ on Baekhyun and his girlfriend.” I digress and let me.

His brows crinkle in concern, “Oh-kay?”

“They were caught snogging in one of the Training Rooms yesterday...”

“And what became of them?”

“I don’t know.” They were made to clean all the Training Rooms the Muggle way. “Kyungsoo, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He pulls me into his arms and presses his soft lips to my forehead, “We’ll get through this.”

“Of course, we will. We’re soulmates”, I say into his chest, reminiscing the time we’d kissed while two lynxes waltzed around us.

Suddenly, with a loud boom, Kyungsoo’s cauldron went flying in the air. It’s bubbling hot contents splattered on the walls of our basement. The impact made us duck under his desk.

“I forgot to turn off the burner.”

#kyungsoo #exo #kyungsoo fluff #exo fluff #kyungsoo imagines #exo imagines #kyungsoo scenarios #exo scenarios #kyungsoo oneshot #kyungsoo oneshots #exo oneshots #exo hogwarts au #kyungsoo hogwarts au #ex aus

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raz-b-rose · 5 years ago

Text

The Secrets we Keep

This was my first Daminette fic, and by far my longest right now. I am posting the whole thing here but I’ll include a link.

It is 15490 words, hope you enjoy.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737908/chapters/51857641

________________________________________________________________

Damian isn't sure how his life had come to this. If you had asked him 2 years ago; heck even just 6 months ago, he would have denied ever wanting to be this close to another person. Alas here he is sitting across from a beautiful woman, dinner picked away at as they talk into the night. Yes Damian Wayne never thought that he would want to in the company of Marinette Dupain-Chang especially after their initial meeting.

She had come to class late, fashionably so, and he had swore at the time the professor was trying to make his life a living hell by assigning her as his partner. She was clumsy, easily flustered and chaos walking. He thought that there was no way she was going to contribute anything productive to this project. Her English was impeccable, however, so perhaps she had some discipline.

They agreed to meet for coffee later that week to go over each others notes and make a plan. Damian had made everything that week, wanting to just cut out the middleman and waiting to see what she contributed. He arrived to the coffee shop 5 minutes early, expecting to have to wait on her again, but she was already set up in the corner, 2 cups of coffee on the table in front of her.

Her hair was down today, the midnight color almost looking blue in the sunlight. She held herself with confidence as she took a folder out of her bag, separating the contents into two piles. Not wanting to be caught observing the approaches the table.

“Ms. Dupain-Chang. I wasn’t expecting you to be here early.” Damian wasn't sure what to make of the situation.

“Marinette.” She gives him that disapproving look that women seem to have mastered. He just stared at her in confusion.

“What?” He sounds as coherent as Todd.

“My name is Marinette, and just because I was late the first day doesn't mean i’m always late.” The way she says the last part leads him to believe that she was stretching the truth a little and was in fact, late often. He doesn’t call her on it however.

“My apologies. May I sit down?”

“Of course!” She giggles, her smile reaching all the way to her eyes. As Damian take his seat, Marinette hands him one of the cups. “You didn’t strike me as a coffee drinker, so I got you some green tea.” She becomes flustered once again, almost embarrassed. She doesn't quite meet my gaze.

“Lucky for you, your intuition was correct.” That forces her eyes to mine, and all he sees in those sky blue eyes is triumph. Almost like she is having a small ah ha moment.

“So I was thinking that we could split the work into five different sections for each of us, breaking it down further to one section a week so we still get it done by the time its due without it, what's the word,” She pauses her tirade trying to remember her English. Marinette was becoming very nervous. She hoped this man wouldn't think she was bossy or overbearing.

“Ah yes impending! Impending our other assignments.”

Damian can't help but feel the whiplash of his initial assessment of Marinette. She was beyond organized, and her work ethic rivaled that of Drakes. Which was saying something.

“Damian?” She looks at him in concern, going so far as to grab his hand. That shocks him into action.

“I feel that I must apologize. Due to your chaotic nature earlier this week, I did not take you for a reliable partner and completed the project.” Damian watches as her eyes widen, her mouth open in a cute o shape. Then she laughed. Not a cute giggle, but a full belly laugh.

“Then I must apologize as well. Due to your standoffish nature, I did not take you as a reliable partner and also finished the project already.” She gasps when she is able to breathe again. Damian feels like he is being mocked.

But he can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. “This meeting was nothing more than to humor each other then.”

“I have a proposition,” She has a mischievous glint to her eyes, Damian can't help but be influenced by the sight, He leans forward, elbows on the table.

“What would that be Marinette?”

“We do the project together, scrapping what we already did.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Uh a clean slate obviously,” She seems nervous again, her earlier show of intensity gone. He can't help but feel confused and frustrated at her constant change in demeanor.

“A clean slate?”

“Yeah like, we get to know each other properly. No assumptions.” Damian pretends to think a moment, watching her from his peripheral. She starts to squirm in her seat. She pulls on the sleeves of her sweater, then she plays with her hair, then she rubs her hands together.

“Ok” He decided she had suffered enough. She perks up instantly, and Damian questions his own sanity at agreeing. She quickly hands him a packet, explaining every last detail. He contributes to the planning as well, their drinks soon empty then time for his next class approaching.

“Same time next week?” She asks hopefully.

“Yes. See you in class.” Damian leaves the coffee shop feeling content and confident. Marinette would be a valuable partner.

They continued to meet for the next five weeks at the same coffee shop, on their last meet up until the project was to be presented later that week, Damian couldn't help but feel disappointed that their weekly meetups were coming to an end. Marinette's presence was a breath of fresh air compared to his nightly activities and the drone of the other occupants of the college campus.

She had found ways to make him laugh more than once, a feat in and of itself, and she never seemed turned off by his abrasive or abrupt nature. Rather she encouraged him to speak his mind, and in doing so Damian learned how to curb his words for the appropriate situations.

He would find himself fixing his appearance before leaving for each meetup. He would tell himself and anyone else that it was not to get a compliment from her, but rather because he is Wayne, and a Wayne is to be presentable at all times.

Even now he runs gel through his hair, satisfied when it stands at an appropriate angle. He turns his face inspecting for any missed spots from shaving. His green eyes stare back at him in satisfaction. An appropriate look for a Wayne he thinks to himself.

Unbeknownst to either of them, Marinette is doing the same thing on campus in one of the bathrooms. She fixes her hair for what feels like the hundredth time, and inspects her makeup for any blemishes. She cant help the girlish squeal that escapes her lips, bouncing on her toes a little. Marinette twirls in her dress, satisfied with the finished product and hurries to the coffee shop.

Damian enters last like normal, Marinette determined to fix her tardy image. Damian sits down across from her, taking the tea she already bought before he can speak she has already barreled into the last minute details of the project. Damian is content and listen to her passionately plan and finalize.

“Want to get lunch tomorrow?” She stops her tirade in shock, blue eyes searching green ones. Damian now just wants to smash his head into a wall, why did he say such a thing? He may not have seen Brown or Grayson for a few months now, but they must have rubbed off on him for him to thoroughly shove his foot into his mouth in such a way.

“That sounds like fun. Where and when?” She smiles that smile that even Superman would combust under.

“Uh, I don’t know, it was a spontaneous idea.” He mumbled, embarrassed at even using the word.

“Oh spontaneous huh? That's not like you Damian.” Her teasing increasing alongside Damian’s reddening face. “You’re always such a planner.”

“Yeah, yeah. Where would you like to go?” He tried to wave of his embarrassment, staring at a stain on the ceiling.

“How about I think about it and give you a text?” She dropped her teasing tone, turning her attention away from Damian and back to the papers, littering the table. If he hadn't been so flustered himself, he would have seen her hands tremble.

“Sounds like a reasonable plan. 12 o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect, I’m out of class by 11:30.”

“Is everything set for the presentation?” Damian tries to bring the conversation back to the reason for their sitting in the coffee shop to being with.

“Yes,” She giggles, “here you go,”

“Thank you, Marinette.” Damian offers her one of his rare smiles. She swears her heart stops then and there. Damian was good looking, but he increased his attractiveness by a hundred when he smiled.

How she managed to keep it together while in the coffee shop she’ll never know. All her years as Ladybug maybe? She waves to Damian outside the shop before squatting to the ground. She grips her face, her cold hands a welcomed relief to her very, very warm face. She doesn't care that she's in public, she squeals in excitement, the rush intoxicating. Damian had asked her to lunch, a date? She sure hoped so.

“Damian?” He jumps out of his thoughts. Marinette smirking at him, “Where did you go silly?” He narrows his eyes at her. He was not silly, the farthest thing from it.

“I was simply thinking about how I actually tolerate your company.” He tries to sound disinterested, but Marinette knows him well enough by now that such tricks wont work on her.

“Is that so? What about my company is so enjoyable?”

“I didn’t use that word.”

“No but it's what you meant.” She grins cheekily back at him, thankfully the check comes at that moment, leaving her to focus on gathering her things. He noticed her trying to slip bills to the waitress, however Damian gets the bills back and slips them back into her purse.

The walk back to her apartment is quiet and tranquil, like the snow falling around them. She is hugging his arm, trying to steal what little warmth he has to offer. If Damian learned anything about Marinette these last few months, its that she did not handle the cold well, and that she did not pick a good city to move to. It was winter almost nine months out of the year.

They stop outside her apartment, Damian waiting patiently for her to enter safely before leaving. She lingers outside with him, taking his hands on her own. Damian looks at her in confusion, watching as she looks up at him. Snowflakes dust her hair and eyes lashes. The lamp light making her eyes look darker than normal. She searches his eyes, licking her lips. He tilts his head, trying to read her thoughts through her expressions.

She slowly raises herself up onto her tip toes and gently touches her lips to his own. His eyes widen in surprise, mouth opening slightly. She stiffens, eyes opening in horror, falling back she takes in his face. He looks horrified at her kiss. He isn't, just caught off guard, but she doesn't know that.

“I sorry,” she starts to stammer, her accent growing heavy with panic, “Mine think brain, no, I thought, au revoir!” Marinette is then making a mad dash to the door, almost slipping in the process, but in a true Marinete fashion manages to catch herself and continue to escape with Marinette patented moves.

Damian reaches out for her, but she is already dashing up the stairs, out of site. Not really sure what he himself feels, and not wanting to make things worse, he leaves. He elects not to go on patrol that night, after all his head wasn't where is need to be safe. He doesn’t sleep much that night.

After all, what did Damian feel for the young woman? She was beautiful, that much is certain, he may have never been seeking out a relationship before, but he wasn't blind. She was passionate and fiery. She sought the good in everyone, giving more than she takes. She never put Damian down for his behavior, especially when he himself was in the wrong. She was patient and kind, talking him through everything. She made him actually feel proud to be Damian Wayne; That even though he was deeply flawed, she still wanted to be around him. She wanted to kiss him.

Kissing meant, love, or at least a deep care and like for another person. That is what everyone had told him since he came to live with Bruce. Marinette did not seem like the person to not follow through with that thinking. And on that note, Damian finds himself desiring to see her and kiss her again. He did after all enjoy Marinette's company, immensely.

The next day he doesn't see her around campus, or in their only shared class. He worries, but also thinks of Cass, and how she would do this when she got emotional too. Damian is sure he will see her again tomorrow and they can talk about them and move past this awkward mess.

She does not show up the next day. She has yet to respond to any calls or texts. By day three Damian has had enough and marches out of class, the stares doing nothing to him. He realizes when he gets to her apartment, he doesn't have a plan. She could not be home for all he knows.

Knocking he waits for her to open the door, he can hear shuffling on the other side, relieved to find that she is home. She opens to door in a daze, Damian smiles at her. She looked like crap. Her hair was a rats nest, she’d obviously had been crying and hasn't been sleeping well. She looked absolutely beautiful. Normal.

She tries to slam the door in his face, however, Damian is faster, the hand and foot keeping the door open. “Damian I could have hurt you!” of course that is the first thing she says to him.

“I have had worse. Please stop hiding from me. I enjoy your company too much to go without it this long.” He hopes she gets what he's trying to say, because Damian Wayne is not a love sick sap. She gives him a hopeful look, stepping aside to let him into the apartment.

“You enjoy my company huh?” She tries to act coy, but nerves are coming off her in waves suffocate her intentions. Damian steps right next to her, cupping her face in his hand.

“Yeah. You Are addicting.” She snorts at him.

“I’m sorry” She whispers, looking at him the same way she did three nights ago.

“What for?” he whispered back.

“Kissing you.”

“That's not the apology I was expecting.” Damian then gives Marinette a look she has never seen before, it is one of hurt. Rejection.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” She steps closer, hand gripping his jacket. “I was embarrassed and thought you hated me. I thought I ruined everything.” His stare is intense, she feels as though her soul is out for Damian to see.

“Don’t ignore me again please.” His tone is gentle, something that anyone who knew Damian had never heard before. He rubs his thumb under her eyes as more tears start to fall. “I’m not mad, I just missed you and hate being ignored.”

“I won't do that ever again.”

“Good. Now promise me just one more thing.” He waits for her eyes to open, head leaning into his touch.

“Yes?”

“Let me kiss you when ever I feel like it?” He meant it to me an order, but it came out as a question. Her laugh sounds broken but healed at the same time.

“Damian. Is that your way of asking me out?” she's back to whispering again as she once more raises herself up onto her tiptoes.

“I guess it is.” He whispers back, his second kiss returned in full this time. She removes her death grip on his jacket, wrapping her arms around his neck. His moves his arms to her waist, lifting her off the ground, spinning them in victory.

“I really do like you Marinette. I’m sorry that my reaction wasn’t what you were expecting.” His forehead his against hers, taking in her presence in his arms.

“I misread the mood,” She groans, clearly still embarrassed.

“How would you feel if I told you that was my first kiss?” He chuckles as she only groans some more.

“Unfortunate that your first kiss is with me,” He can’t tell if she is joking your not. He sets her down, lifting her chin up to meet her eyes, searching them, trying to find a hint of a joke. There is none. He kisses her once more before speaking.

“I don’t feel like that and neither should you. I like your kisses.”

“How can you know that I kiss well, after all, I’m the only person you’ve kissed.” She pouts.

“I just know.” He says pulling her in for another kiss. They both melt into that one, no longer tense or uncertain. Content in each other's presence, relaxed and happy.

They had been dating for over a year when disaster struck. His family found out about Marinette. His very intrusive, needs the answers to everything, the definition of privacy is unknown, family.

They had just finished a nice dinner date after a performance at the theater, when the worst of all of his family happened upon them. Jason Todd. And no, Damien does not mean the worst because of his methods. No the worst possible person because Todd does not know when to keep his mouth shut.

See Jason had noticed them leaving the theater, and out of ‘spite’ decided not to call out to Damian, but rather follow them back to Marinette's place. Jason waited outside for almost two hours before Damian exited the building, preparing himself for a night of crime fighting.

“Hey Demion. Who’s the chick?” Damian froze, slowly meeting Jason's gaze across the street. He looked like a toddler that had been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

Jason pushes himself off the wall, meeting Damian on the other side, both of them walking to Wayne Tower together. Jason was not patient so he refused to wait for Damians answer.

“Com’on, tell me. Who is she?”

“She is none of your concern.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Damian tries not to show a reaction to the word, but his fist clenches and his shoulders straighten. “When were you going to tell us?”

“She is none of your concern.” He repeats, hoping that just this once, Jason will give up. He does not.

“How did you meet? Is she nice or a demon like you? Wait why did I ask that, why would a nice girl ever go out with you.” Jason laughs loudly, but doesnt miss Damians growl or the death glare he sends his way.

“Oh protective already are we,” Jason tsks, “Careful, girls these days don't like the whole ‘night in shining armor’ thing”

“Will you just shut up?”

“Nope. I have questions for days.”

Damian’s scowl from when he was ten slowly starts to morph back into place, the look more terrifying now that his baby fat has thinned out and his features are much sharper now. It does nothing against Jason however.

“She’s tiny,must be cute when you guys kiss. Ya’know, with how tall you are.” His scowl only deepens. “Oh I bet she not very experienced huh?” Jason suggests with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?” Damian's face is beat red, his fists fully clenched now. However Jason is only getting started, this is the most entertained he’s been for months.

“A girl that cute must have a cute name right? Let me guess, Jessica. No, Hannah. Oh wait I got it, Lily.”

“Her name is Marinette! She’s French!” Jason just grins in victory. After all anyone knows if you annoy Demion long enough, he will tell you exactly what you want to know.

“Ah French uh? But she looks Asian.”

“Are you serious Todd?” Damian sounds disgusted, “You of all people should know not to judge a person's nation by how they look.”

"My bad, you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

“You’re not right in keeping her a secret.” Jason drops all annoying brother pretenses, getting serious. “When were you going to tell us? How long have you been seeing her?”

“Not long. And I didn’t want to tell you guys yet for this very reason.”

“We were all going to react the way I did no matter when you told us.” Damian begrudgingly agrees that Todd has a point. His family was annoying like that after all.

“You should bring her for dinner this weekend, everyone will be at the Manor,” Jason holds open the lobby doors for Damian, both waving to the receptionist, before heading to the private elevator.

“I will ask her Todd, but that's it.”

“Good enough for me, after all she won't refuse.”

“Who won't refuse?” Damian groans as the elevator doors open to the secret basement. Tim finishing suiting up, 3 cups of coffee already empty on the table beside him.

Damian tries to say ‘no one’, but Jason is already slapping his hand over his mouth ensuring his silence long enough.

“Demion here has a girlfriend that he didn't tell anyone about. He said he would bring her to dinner this weekend.”

Bruce walks in as Jason finishes speaking, his face showing obvious surprise at his youngest not only being in a relationship, but willing to bring her to the manor.

“I said I would ask her, there is no guarantee!” Damian shouts, pushing Jason aside, angrily getting suited up for the night.

“Please inform me as soon as you can Master Damian so I can make the appropriate accommodations.” Alfred speaks up from the giant monitor on the wall. Damian just grips the table in defeat, head hanging low.

“So what's she like Damian?” Tim finally speaks again, hovering on his left. “Is she smart? Talented? Oh I know you must find the damsel in distress trope attractive.”

“Drake you have two seconds to back away from me before I put a hole through your face,”

“That's a hard no,” Tim mutters backing away, “What can you tell us?”

“That she is not your concern,” Damian groans for the third time that night.

“Of course she is our concern, we have to make sure she checks out. Safe for the family.” The ‘safe for you’ hang in the air between them.

“Her name is Marinette and she is French. That's all the information I got.”

“That's a good amount to work with” Tim excitedly stars tapping away, obviously working on building a profile.

“Don’t you dare run a background check on her.” Bruce has silently been watching his sons interact, finally stepping in at Damian's order.

“Why not Damian?”

“Because it is not necessary, and I value her privacy, like all of you should,” He looks into Tim's eyes the longest. “I know enough without a background check.”

“How long have you known her,” Tim snips, perturb at being stopped at investigating. It's what he is good at and it's what he enjoys.

“Long enough, leave it be. You all know about her now. That should be enough.”

“But its not-”

“Just be a normal family for once!” All the men stop at Damian's outburst, “Get to know her like normal people. No background checks, no staking out, just leave her alone.” With that He marches over to the street exit, leaving his Father and Brother standing in shock.

The following morning, Damian meets Marinette outside her apartment, silence filling the air as they walk to class. He glances down at her, smiling a soft bittersweet smile. It was nice while it lasted, having her all to himself.

“My family found out about us.” She doesn’t find this news as troublesome as he did.

“I didn't know they were unaware.” Marinette chooses her words carefully, after all she is unsure how she feels about being a secret girlfriend. A secret girlfriend for a year.

“It’s not that I wanted to keep you a secret,” Damian noticed her rise in emotion, “It’s that my family does not understand the definition of privacy very well, and I didn't want you to be overwhelmed with their overeager nature.

She finds the notion that Damians family was nothing like him a hilarious concept. On the other hand, she finds it hard to laugh in the moment. If they invaded privacy the way he says, she has too many secrets that were not hers to share at this moment. Concerning indeed.

“Well, if it is ok with you,” she pulls them to a stop, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I am not comfortable to meet your family. Yet.” Unable to stop himself, Damian kisses her dizzy, falling more in love with this woman by the second.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.” He gasps out

“Oh, I think I have an idea,” She chuckles, “I will let you know when I am ready. Deal?”

“The best deal I have ever made in my life,” He deadpans. She laughs while pulling them back to walking, both hearts lighter. Damians with not having to share her yet. Marinettes with the extended time to get her affairs in order. She reaches up to her earrings, rubbing them in concern.

Damian all but struts into wayne tower later that night, gleeful to break the news that Marinette didn't want to meet them.

Jason and Tim were talking to Dick on the monitor when Damian entered, obviously arguing about Damian and his love life.

"Let Damian have this you two. He deserves the respect."

"But-" Tim starts only to be cut off with Damian clapping him on the shoulder.

"Listen to Grayson."

"Hey Damian. Congrats on the girl, nice to see you finally living like a normal human being" he jests

“Thank you Grayson. It's nice to see someone respecting privacy around here.”

“You just gotta wait until this weekend Timmy, a chance to practice your patience” Grayson tries to placate the quickly growing in agitation Tim.

“Actually, She isn't ready to meet you guys, so she won't be coming this weekend.” Damian feels smug watching their faces morph from confusion into hurt.

And with that Damian moves to get ready, leaving them to process the reality of not getting to meet Marinette.

"I know where she lives, let's go Tim" Jason starts to the elevator, forgetting his already in costume.

"Jason. Tim. Stop." Bruce enters, her Batman glare on. "If Damian is serious about Marinette, and she about him, then we need to respect their wishes. She could be a part of our family and we do not need to give her the wrong idea"

"Thank you Father. Now let's go, there was chatter yesterday that Penguin is up to something."

The boys begrudgingly get ready, each leaving the basement on their own time. Tim and Jason exchange a look. They won't meet her yet, but they are totally going to research her.

Everything came to a head for Damian and Marinette however a few weeks later. They were enjoying a relaxing afternoon class free in her apartment. Damian was reading on her couch while she hemmed a dress on the floor in the corner.

Her phone rang from the counter top, Marinette scrambling to get to it in time. "Maman!" She exclaims in French, giving Damian a smile, before focusing on her call.

"Oh no no." She laughs, “I have been a good girl.” Damian can’t help but smile at listening to her.

“How are you Maman?”

“Well I hope the delivery gets finished on time.” Marinette’s stomach turns as she watches the back of Damians head. She now leans against the counter.

“Hows Papa?” Damian notices her pause, glancing behind him to see her face twisted in worry. He sets his book down, getting up to see whats wrong. Marinette just holds a finger up to him. ‘One moment’ she mouths.

“Huh uh. What?” Her brows furrow further. “Ok Maman, I’ll be there soon.”

“What's wrong Habibti?” Instead of going to Damian she runs to her bedroom, blindly packing a bag.

“My Grandfather is not doing well. The doctors says he doesn't have long. I have to fly home. I don't know how long I will be gone.” She glances at Damian sadly, “Sorry I have to cancel all our plans.”

“Hey don’t say that, your family needs you. This is out of your control.”

“Thank you Chéri,” She kisses him softly before closing her bag.

“Would you like me to take you to the airport?” Damian follows her out of the apartment, holding her bag while she locks the door.

“No I’ll be ok. I would like time to prepare myself.”

“Please call me when you land, I need to know you’re safe.” He helps her flag down a cab.

“Of course Chéri,” They share one last kiss before Marinette climbs into the back seat. “See you soon.”

“See you soon.” Damian watched as the cab pulled away from the curb, the emotion of worry overtaking him. He had felt concern for his own well being before, but never for another person this personally. Especially Marinette's grandfather. It was an odd experience.

Damian decided he might as well go get some training in with the free afternoon he has. AS soon as he entered the Manor, his phone rang, caller ID informing him it was Drake.

“Yes Drake?”

“I found something troubling, I need you at the manor,” Tim hesitates before adding, “Please.”

“Lucky for you I am already here.” Damian hangs up before heading to the cave entrance.

He is surprised to see Drake and Todd in the cave, along with Grayson. Damian narrows his eyes at each of them before finally noticing what they had pulled up on the computer. It was a complete profile on Marinette. Damian felt his blood pressure rise.

“What did I tell you guys about-!”

“We know but just stop and listen, you will be thanking us in a few minutes.” Jason places a hand on his shoulder.

“What do you mean I will be thanking you?” Damian all but snarls, “What did you do?”

“Just listen to this,” Tim starts pulling up an audio file, “It’s a good thing you haven’t been dating this girl for very long.” Before Damian can get another word in Tim presses play.

“Maman!” Marinette's voice exclaims, the sound normally music to his ears, but now he just feels dread.

“Are you alone Ladybug?” The voice does not belong to Marinette's mother, or rather can’t, Damian has never talked to the woman. This voice is young, strong and serious.

“Oh no,no” Marinette's voice laughs, “I have been a good girl.” Dread sets in further.

“Understood.”

“How are you Maman?”

“It’s time Ladybug.”

“Well I hope the delivery gets finished on time”

“We are waiting at the temple. The situation is dire.”

“How’s Papa?”

“We have purchased tickets for you already. Chat Noir will meet you in the UK. You will then take a flight to Tibet.”

“Huh uh. What?” Her voice now takes on a more serious note. He had been sitting across from her while she had this coded conversation. Damian felt like a fool.

“Viperion will then meet you in the village Dangquka to escort you the rest of the way.”

“Ok Maman, I'll be there soon”

Dick watches as Damian starts to lose his balance, quickly moving a chair behind him to collapse into. Damian just stares at the computer screen, gripping his face this one hand, his other fist clenched.

“I knew something was up every time she declined to meet us so I started investigating. Her background check came back clean, so I bugged her phone.”

“Just stop talking Drake.” Damian all but whispers, that stops Tim in his tracks.

“Wow she had you whipped, and you guys didn't know each other that long.” Jason mutters

“I think knowing her for almost two years is quite a long time Todd.” Damian didn't have the energy to even get loud.

“Wha? Two years? But how?” Tim’s voice starts to tremble. He feels terrible. He didn't know they had been together that long.

“You guys just assumed because you only found out about us a few weeks ago, that must have been we started dating. I never told you how long we had been together.”

“Damian are you ok?” Dick finally spoke, his tone gentle and quiet. No judgment, just concern.

“Am I ok?” Damian laughs, “AM I OK?” Damian had finally processed everything, he jumps out of the chair marching up to Tim.

“Whoa Damian calm down!” Dick springs into action.

“No! Do you realize what you took from me Drake. DO YOU?” He points his finger into his face.

“Damian I didn't know-”

“No you just couldn't mind your own business!” Damian takes a deep breath, “She is my normal. She treats me like a normal person and with respect. She is kind to everyone she meets, and is the most patient person I have ever met.

Damian glances at her picture still plastered on the monitor. Her eyes reflect everything he just said about her. Just from this picture you can see how much joy she brings to the world. She is so beautiful and Damian for the life of him can’t imagine her being some sort of spy. Or assassin his mind supplies, remembering how the caller had mentioned a temple.

“Would you rather have been kept in the dark if it meant keeping that sense of normalcy.” Todd speaks, his eyes narrowed, “We were only trying to help.”

“If you really want to help then you two are going with me to get to the bottom of this.” Damian marches past the three men, and out of the cave, ignoring the question.

“You two suck.” Dick says quietly. “You’re lucky I'm in town to cover for you.” With that he also makes his exit, leaving the last two to only stare at the ground.

Dick finds Damian in the sparring room, obliterating dummies with his sword. He patiently waits for him to acknowledge his presence. Damian pauses, using his shirt to wipe the first drops of sweat from his face.

“What do you want?”

“Want to spar?” Damian is bewildered, but he doesn't dwell on it. He has to let out his aggression somehow.

“You had nothing to do with this mess.”

“So, you need a sparring partner.” Dick takes off his shirt and shoes, meeting Damian on the mat. “Plus sparing has always helped clear your head.”

Dick doesn't wait but goes straight for the attack, kicking high. Damian easily evades, spinning around with a kick of his own. They continue to exchange blows in quick succession, slowly only between pieces of conversation.

“She was the first person who really saw me.” Damian grunts as he throws Dick over his shoulder, “And the first girl I have ever liked.”

Dick spins himself back into a standing position, hands at the ready for the next attack. “Do you love her?” The question doesn't catch Damian off guard like he thought it would.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever lied to her about Robin activities.” Dick jabs quickly at Damian's shoulders.

“Never, I just have never told her details.” He dances away from the punches, swinging out with a roundhouse kick. “Told her I have a night job. That I help Father with work and that I workout often.”

“What did you tell her when you got shot three months ago?”Grayson manages to get a hold on Damians shift, pinning him to the ground. But his does not hold him, after all Damian needs to keep moving to sort through everything.

“I didn’t tell her that. I didn’t want to worry her.”

“Impressive.” Damian gets a choke hold on Dick, tangling their legs together. “Let me ask you this. What if she does the same thing and that's why she lied to you?”

That causes Damian to pause long enough with his choke hold for Grayson to throw him over his shoulder. He lays on the mat, staring at the ceiling, working through that thinking.

“That would be the best outcome to all this.”

“And the worst?”

“She is the opposite and I got played like a fool.” Damian picks himself up, walking to the end of the mat signaling the end of the sparring match.

“Are you going to follow her or wait until she gets back?”

“Follow. What reason would she have to tell me the truth the second time?” he bends to gather his things.

“Do you fully distrust her now?”

Damian pauses, “Maybe, I don’t know. I just don't want to be caught off guard this time. Plus I already told them they are taking me.”

“Better get a move on if you want to beat her there.” He rubs Damian's head affectionately. Damian grins at Dick.

“Thank you Dick, I really needed that.”

“Go get her Tiger” With that Dick smacks his back before leaving the gym, calling for Alfred. Yes Damian thought, time to go find out what is really going on.

And so Jason and Tim had the most uncomfortable flight of their life, not looking forward to the flight back should things turn out even worse than they are now. Damian stayed silent the whole way, only staring out the window or flipping through his phone.

To say Bruce was unhappy with all three boys needing to leave the city was an understatement. Thankfully Dick was there to lighten the load and the blow. The sound of a ringing phone pulled Damian from whatever he was thinking about. He felt like he was going to break his phone he was gripping it so hard. He answers on the last ring.

“Marinette.” It’s all he can bring himself to say.

“Damian! I thought I was going to miss you,” She laughs, “It must be pretty late there.”

“Oh yea totally. How was your flight?”

“It was smooth, here safe and sound.”

“Paris right?” He asks, even though he knows that she isn't there, Damian is wondering to see how far she will go to lie to him.

“That's where my parents are,” she laughs again. It wasn't a direct answer. It wasn't an answer at all. Damian wasn't sure what to make of the misleading statement. It was almost like she didn't want to outright lie to him.

“I gotta go Chéri, I'll let you know when my flight back is so you can pick me up. I probably won't be close to my phone this week but I’ll text when I can ok?”

“Of course Habibti.” Damian pauses but figures he should go for it and say it at least once before this come to an end. “Love you, see you soon.” He quickly hangs up, not waiting for a response. He doesn't want to hear it back if she doesn't really mean it. He goes back to staring out the window, ignoring the boys staring at him.

Meanwhile Marinette stares at her phone in shock, the blush overcoming her face matched with a beating heart. With a shaky smile she turns to Adrian behind her, waiting to board the next plane with her.

“What's with that look?” He teases, looking over her shoulder at her phone. “Oh who's that, he's quite the looker.”

“That would be my boyfriend,” She giggles walking to board the plane. “You know that silly.”

“Yes, but I have never seen a picture. What's got you all gooey inside anyway?”

“He said ‘I love you’,” Marinette mumbles, throwing her bag into an overhead.

“Ohh serious then.”

“It will be when I get back, after all I’ll finally be able to tell him everything. I hate lying.”

“I know bug, and I’m sorry this is a bittersweet moment.” He takes her hand

“Me too. I wish it didn't have to happen this way.”

On the other plane the reds exchange a look before closing off the back of the plane, giving themselves a physical wall between them and Damian.

“He said ‘I love you’” Tim groans, “I really messed this up.”

“Yes but your heart was in the right place. We will find out the truth soon enough.”

“I hope I was wrong about her.”

“What else could the truth be. She’s obviously apart of something shady. It’s just a matter of what and how bad”

“Why would you think that? What evidence is there that its something bad?”

“Don't be ignorant Tim. No one takes phone calls like that when they don't have something to hide.”

“Yeah but-”

“You feel guilty, I get it, but don’t let that cloud your logic. Something is going on and we are going to find out what.”

Tim sits silently the rest of the way, electing to focus on flying and not let his emotional thoughts distract him. After all, this was just another investigation. Only this time it was Damian's girlfriend. Too late, he was emotionally involved. He had to make this right or better somehow.

“We’re here” Jason starts to land the plane in a clearing a few miles outside the village Marinette was due to arrive in a few hours time. Opening the divider, they find Damian asleep, a picture of Marinette pulled up on his phone.

“Let's pretend we didn't see anything. Follow his lead and get some sleep too. How long until she lands?”

“Ten more hours,” Tim answers glancing up from his device.

“Eight hours it is, night” Jason plops down into a chair, pulling his hood over his eyes.

“Night.” Tim goes back to the cockpit, trying to get sleep but as always, it doesn't come easy. Deciding not to waste precious hours on staring at the ceiling, he pulls up his report on Marinette looking for anything that could clue them into what she's into.

She wasn’t a model student but she wasn’t a delinquent either. Her attendance record improved as she grew up. She was involved in many different design contests and has had high profile clients requesting commissions. She was class representative for three years, zealously completing all projects and activities for her class with perfection.

She was a busy girl but never without time for her friends, family, and her neighborhood. Everything this girl did didn’t reflect the contents of the phone call at all. She had also never been to Tibet before. At least not that Tim had found. She had never been outside France before entering Gotham University.

So what was she doing all the way out here? And with who. The mysterious caller had mentioned two individuals besides herself. No amount of searching through aliases had Tim found anything on a Chat Noir, Viperion or even Marinette's code name, Ladybug.

“Time to go.” Tim jumps at Damian's voice, glancing behind him only to watch his retreating back out of the jet. Jason stands waiting for him at the end of the ramp, both hurrying to catch up with Damian.

The village of Dangquka was small, only taking up a small portion of the valley. The place almost looked sad, filled with sparse beige grass and barren mountains. The boys settled themselves into a cliffside, queuing up their binocular setting in their respective masks, watching for the girls' arrival.

“She’s almost here,” Tim says, his phone showing Marinette location as it travels quickly towards the town. They watch as an off road jeep pulls into the village, all the villagers gathering around. Marinette climbs out, a blond man following after from the driver's seat. She starts to greet all the villagers, obviously familiar with them. Damian zones in on a man that doesn't look like he belongs in the village.

His hair is dyed and his look screams rocker, even of his attire is more appropriate for the setting he’s in. Damian's hand obliterates the rock he's using to support himself as he watches the man pull Marinette into a hug, going so far as to bend his head into her neck. They stay that was for a minute before the blond man pulls them apart, motioning to the jeep. Marinette nods, taking the second boys hand and pulling him towards the jeep, climbing into the back seat with him.

She’s not just lying to me. She’s a femme fatale. Using me for some sick game, before she returns to her real boyfriend. Boyfriends? It doesn't matter. Damian's thoughts start to spiral before Jason picks him up with his collar.

“Come on lover boy, we have to follow them up the mountain.” And so they do, for eight hours. The sun had long since set, when they climb over a ridge and all gape at the temple settled at the base of a mountain, at the edge of a cliff. Damian is the first to pull himself together, quickly zoning in on the entrance. At the top of the stairs stand three women and one lone man, surrounded by what look like male and female monks.

Marinette climbs out of the vehicle, all the monks dropping to a bow at her appearance. The boys stand behind her on either side as she ascends the stairs. For the sake of tradition, Marinette does not shy away from the attention, but holds her head high. She has a duty to perform.

At the top she pulls the three women in for a hug, relishing the contact. She pulls back to take the hand of the man. He smiles at her, giving her hand a tight squeeze before an older man steps forward, bowing to escort her inside.

“Drake.”

“Already on it, we will have sound and video in five.”

“How does no one know about this place?” Jason grumbles

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Right then the sound from the temple kicks in, all silencing to hear everything. Tim holds the tablet out, everyone's eyes glued to the screen.

“It’s a blessing you made it when you did Marinette, he only has a few minutes left, the Kwami have done all they could.”

“That is good to hear, I will see him now.” Marinette enters a large chamber, quickly approaching the bed in the center, an older man struggling to breath lying upon it. He is surrounded by what look like many animal themed faires.

“Master Fu, I’m here.”

“Marinette, I am so thankful I got to see you one last time, especially to bestow the title upon you in person.”

“I know we have talked about this before Master but please reconsider. There is still time to choose one of the monks instead.”

Fu only breathes deeply, too tired to shake his head.

“I met someone. Please Master, just this once let me have this.”

“I am sorry Marinette but my choice is made.” Marinette starts to cry, her grip on his hand tightening.

“I do not want this curse,” She whispers.

“Do not call such an honor a curse Marinette. You were chosen for this and I ask that you humor this old man and accept your duty.” Fu tries to sound harsh.

“It is a curse, you are just lucky you do not have to go long without your memories.” Marinette then looks ashamed. “I apologize Master, that was harsh of me.”

“Do not apologize for stating a truth Marinette,” Fu chuckles, “I do not have long left to live.”

“Does not make what I said any less insensitive.” She adjusts her weight, tucking her legs under her. She waits patiently with a bowed head as the man gathers the last of his strength.

“I, Supreme Guardian Fu, relinquish my title to Marinette Dupain-Chang. That she will be the next Guardian of the Miracle Box until she passes the title onto another.” When Fu finishes speaking there is a bright flash of light and all the fairy like creatures disappear. They watch as Marinette reaches up to her ears. That's when Damian notices that the earrings that Marinette never took off were gone.

“Hello young lady, why are you crying?” The boys watch in horror as the man no longer recognized Marinette. She just smiled kindly, brushing her hand across his face.

“No reason, you must be tired, why don’t you rest?”

“Yes that sounds nice,” And with that the man passed away. Marinette wipes the last of her tears away before standing and exiting the room. Outside wait the three women from earlier as well as two young female monks.

“Come Mistress, we must get you ready for the ceremony.” The monks take her hands, leading her further down the hall.

“How are you Marinette?” The first girl to speak is a brunette, her hair wavy and short, the orange dye blending well with her skin tone.

“I am doing well Alya, you?”

“Great. My magazine just took off in Paris. Sales are good so far.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.” She smiles her trademark smile, before sitting down for the younger girls to start her makeup and hair.

“I hear you are doing more than well,” The second woman speaks. She is a blonde, clothes obviously designer. “What's this I hear about a boyfriend?”

“Chloe” Marinette whines in embarrassment.

“What it's not my fault you didn't tell me. So what's his name? Do you have a picture?” Marinette just rolls her eyes before gesturing to her purse, leaving the girl to grab her phone. She whistles when she sees Damien's picture. The boy flushing as his brother snicker.

“His name is Damian.”

“How long?” The final girl joins in, her Japanese features beautiful and holding herself with confidence.

“Over a year of dating and almost two and knowing each other.” The girls a coo at that, even the Japanese girl. The other girls look almost uncomfortable at the relaxed atmosphere. Marinette notices, reaching up to stop the girls from working.

“Loosen up girls, no need to be so formal.”

“But tradition says that we are to be respectful to you Mistress.”

“Yes and to not speak out of turn. You are Supreme Guardian now”

“Please call me Marinette, and I don’t like these stuffy traditions. So don’t stress yourselves on my account.”

“Ok” They both sound slightly more relaxed but do not join in the the friends chatter.

“So why didn’t you bring Damian with you?” Alya asks, casually eating a platter of fruit.

“Because he doesn’t know.” All the girls look at her in shock.

“What” They all but yell. Damien narrows his eyes, focusing heavily on the conversation.

“Even if I had been allowed, how do you bring up this!?” She waves to the room around her, obviously meaning the temple as a whole. Damian's breath catches. She didn't have a choice in lying to him.

“Easy,” the Japanese girl starts, “You just say ‘Babe I’m being raised to be a leader of a super ancient and secret organization that guards magical jewelry.”

“Wow Kagami I didn’t know you had been hanging out with Adrian again” Marinette says dryly.

Damian falls back on his butt, shaking in relief. The truth wasn't even in the ballpark of what his mind was thinking. Magic. Of course he wouldn't have considered such a possibility due to his limited contact with it.

“It's the truth though,” Chloe chimes in, it can’t be that hard. She glances at the girls working on Marinette, electing to enact her new found tact and not to speak ill of the dead. After all, it was clear that Fu had forbidden Marinette from telling anymore people about the Order. Instead she says, “Now that you’re in charge are you going to tell him?”

“Yes. As soon as I get back. I don’t like lying.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That my grandfather was passing in Paris,” She sounds so ashamed, One of the girls smacking her hand as she tried to touch her face.

“Well I think the only thing you lied about was where you are if that makes you feel better-”

“It doesn’t,”

“-And technically Fu was like a grandfather to you. He had been training you since you were a child.” Chole continued as though she had never been interrupted.

She just pouts, closing her eyes for the girl to finish applying her makeup. She sighs in relief moving quickly to apply the red eye shadow and make the elaborate eyeliner wings.

“Well going back to Damian, how serious is it?”

“Uh-” Damian holds his breath, “I like to think serious, after all he did say-” She grows quiet at the end, raising her shoulders to hide herself.

"What was that?" Alya and Chloe grin mischievously leaning in close.

"He told me he loved me when I called him earlier" Marinette manages to get out, unable to hide the joy on her face.

"Please hold still, I'm almost done" the girl tries to sound respectful but she's obviously frustrated.

"Sorry"

"You said you think it's serious. That means you love him back yes?" Kagami asks. Marinette only sighs happily, doing her best to let the girls finish working on her.

"Well you both have great genes, your kids will look killer" It takes all Marinette's self control to not react to Chloe's teasing. You can tell how embarrassed she is by the statement from her shaking hands and red face.

"Done, time to change clothes." Marinette stands up and starts to undress. Damian's hand shoots out, slamming the tablet down against the rock face.

"What never seen her naked before" Jason teases.

"Whether or not I have is not your business and you two heathens don't need to watch a girl change without her knowledge you perverts"

"Ya' know Tim, I don't think he's ever seen her naked." Jason grins leaning down on Damian.

"I think you're right. Baby steps though, she his his first girlfriend"

"it's been long enough though that he should have by now"

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Damian swats Jason off him, listening to see when he could bring visuals back up.

Marinette moved when needed as the girls put layer upon layer on her kimono, the lightweight fabric quickly weighing more together.

"Done ready to see yourself," Alya and Kagami pull her up to a mirror, standing beside her as she took in her appearance.

Her red eye shadow spread out to make it look like she was wearing a mask, the eye liner dramatic and making her eyes look more serious then she felt. Her lips were a pale red except for the center, which was a solid red line. The blue of her eyes, oddly not clashing with her makeup or clothes. The kimono was varying shades of red, black, dark purple, and dark blue. He hair was decorated with ornaments and beaded intricately, her braid cascading down her back.

"Wow, impressive guys. I don't even look like the same person"

"Mistress, it is time for everyone to gather." Each girl gives her a hug before leaving the room. Marinette takes a deep breath, stealing herself before marching out of the room.

She is escorted by the young woman before they leave her side to join the crowd gathered in the great hall. The boys turn the tablet right side up again, right as she walks in, past a large group of people.

Tim squints at the screen and starts mumbling to himself. Damian just glares at him before watching Marinette take a seat on not a throne but a very large cushion. Her back is straight as she bows her head and in return the room bows to her. Four people step forward, each holding a cup.

"Supreme Guardian. I offer this potion of health, that you may stay strong for the Order."

"Thank you. I gladly accept." She drinks before bowing again, the man retaking his place in the crowd.

"Supreme Guardian, I offer this potion of wisdom, that you may lead us with confidence.

"Thank you. I gladly accept"

"Supreme Guardian, I offer this potion of fortitude, that you may protect the Order."

"Thank you. I gladly accept" her gaze hardens as the final man steps forward.

"Supreme Guardian, I offer this potion of longevity, that you may lead the Order for many years to come." Marinette pauses as she takes hold of the cup, murmurs stirring as she does not accept or drink.

"Thank you, but I will decline the potion of longevity. For now." The murmurs turned to outrage, Marinette patiently waiting for the room to quiet.

"Ah ha! Star Wars." Tim exclaims, the boys looking at him in confusion. "Her outfit, she looks like she's Queen Amidala"

Jason just nods in agreement while Damian turns back to the commotion building within the temple. Damian watched at Marinette's friends exchange looks of amusement and concern. The younger monks gently quiet down the older ones, whispering to listen and hear what she has to say. Finally the room quieted enough for Mariniette to be heard.

“I mean no disrespect. I understand the importance of tradition. However I am not on my own, the decision of extended life is a serious one and one I plan to discuss with my boyfriend.” The angry muttering starts to return at the mention of Damian.

“Boyfriend!?” A man yells, “How dare the this Supreme Guardian trample our traditions. Did Fu teach you nothing?” Marinette only narrows her eyes. Her lips are but a thin line now.

“You should revoke the title, Fu must have been confused to have chosen you.” A woman spoke this time. Damian feels his own blood start to boil, he can only imagine how Marinette must be feeling at this moment. If what he heard was correct, Marinette had been coming here most of her life. These people must be like family. But then Damian remembers what family truly means, and it's not only blood. He glanced to the men beside him, thankful for their presence in his youth and now. But he wasn't about to tell them that.

Marinette stands, hands folded in front of her and she stood in front of the man first. She bowed deeply, he takes a step back in shock. “I apologize but I did not want this position. I begged Fu to reconsider many times, but he would not.” She stands, meeting his gaze head on, “But my memories are too important to me to revoke the title.” She then walks to the woman who spoke up. She takes her hands in her own, gently squeezing.

“Fu was a wise man, just stubborn in his ways, much like many of you,” Her face his kind, but her words are hard like steel, “I will not allow you to speak ill of him.” She retakes her seat, “After all we both partook of the potion of wisdom, so perhaps I am not as foolish as you all believe.” She quips, looking satisfied with herself.

The room was dead silent except for the blonde man and woman struggling not to laugh alongside the redhead. Slowly everyone looked very proud of their new Supreme Guardian. “I am not out to destroy tradition, but to renew it and bring it into a new season. Change is good for the soul, and makes things stronger.” Marinette smiles gently at everyone, her warmth overtaking the room.

Damian can’t help but let his mouth hang open watching his girl tackle the room in a much stronger way than he would have. “You sure can pick em” Jason whispers next to him, almost like he’s afraid to break the spell. Damian can only nod, still in awe of this woman who decided to be his partner.

“Now tradition also says that as Supreme Guardian, I am to protect the identities of any holders of the Miraculous. With my goal to bring the Order into the new age, I feel it's important to function more as a collective than as a -” Marinette pauses to choose her words carefully, “group only lead by me, or a Supreme Guardian in general.”

“What do you mean?”

“Secrecy is still important, and magic protects us against a lot of things, but I feel as though we could be doing more for the world. That we shouldnt hide in the shadows as much. The world needs help, and if our magic can provide that then I think we should.”

“I wonder what their magic is? Do you think it has anything to do with those fairy things earlier?”

“I think Marinette is about to show us.” They watch as a hexagonal box is brought before Marinette. It is solid, there are no cracks along it to allude to any opening at all. It is painted with Chinese symbols in a deep red. With a wave of her hand the box spins, a new compartment opening with each spin until the top disappears altogether revealing what the boys could only assume was the magical jewelry. She takes a pair of spotted earrings from the top, after the last one is put in there was a flash of pink light revealing a small red creature.

“Hello again Tikki.” The creature, Tikki, flies up to Marinette's face, careful of her make up as she gives her the best hug she can.

“You look beautiful Marinette!”

“Thank you Tikki,” Marinette can’t help but laugh, “Shall we continue?”

“Yes my Guardian.” Tikki does her own little bow before floating over Marinette left shoulder, sending a small wave to the occupants of the room. Next Marinette grabs the ring that had sat in the box next to the earrings.

“Adrien Agreste. Please come forward.” The blonde man walks to her, bowing before her.

“In the past you were the holder of the Cat Miraculous. You were given responsibility over destruction. Do you desire to continue your responsibility of this miraculous? In doing so you swear your loyalty to me and will uphold your duty as the Cat.”

“Supreme Guardian, I decline your offer to hold the cat miraculous.” Marinette only smiles kindly at him.

“I thank you for your service and wish you well on your journey.” Adrian turns to walk away, but Marinette stops him. “Would you like one last goodbye?” Adrian doesn't look surprised at her kindness but takes the ring. In a flash of green light a small black creature that resembles a cat appears.

“Thank you for everything Plagg, I hope to see you again someday.” Plagg only sniff, obviously trying to appear unbothered with the goodbye.

“Knowing sweet cheeks over here, you only need to ask to say hello.” Adrian chuckles

“I will keep that in mind, so long Plagg.” and with that he removes the ring, Plagg disappearing once again. Adrian walks away feeling confident in his decision, he enjoyed his time with Plagg but he had other desires for the future, and being a superhero isn't one of them.

Marinette replaces the ring before taking out a necklace that looks like a fox tail. “Alya Césaire. Please come forward.” Alya also bows before Marinette, sending her a nervous smile.

“In the past you were the holder of the Fox Miraculous. You were given responsibility over illusion. Do you desire to continue your responsibility of this miraculous? In doing so you swear your loyalty to me and will uphold your duty as the Fox.”

“I must decline, Supreme Guardian,” she rushes to add, mentally scolding herself for messing up, “your offer to hold the fox miraculous again.”

“I thank you for your service and wish you well on your journey. Would you like to say goodbye?”

“Trixx and I said our goodbyes long ago, I thank you for the offer though.” Alay struggles to speak so formally, after all this is the same girl who once wondered if a pan was hot and touched it with her bare hand.

“Very well.” Marinette places the necklace back and pulls out a comb with a bee along the top. Before she can speak, Chloe is already standing in front of her, someone coughs behind her and with an exaggerated sigh she bows quickly to Marinette, holding out her hand. Marinette's lips quirk upward, the laugh barely contained.

“Chloe Bourgeois, in the past you were the holder of the Bee Miraculous. You were given responsibility over Subjection. Do you desire to continue your position of this miraculous? In doing so you swear your loyalty to me and will uphold your duty as the Bee.”

“Obviously, now let me see Pollen,” Chloe shrinks under Marinette's stare, but only a little, “please” Marinette relents, handing her the comb. Chloe puts the comb in her hair, at the base of her ponytail. With a flash of yellow light a creature resembling a bee appears, her large black eyes alight with laughter.

“My Queen, I know you are eager but you must be respectful.”

“Yeah yeah,” Pollen hugs her face much like Tikki did Marinettes. With a flick of her fingers over the comb Chloe is enveloped in a bright light. When the light clears, Chloe is now sporting a mostly black outfit with narrow dark yellow stripes throughout. She has long translucent wings along her back and antenna atop her head. Her mask is all black and what look like enforced gloves with spikes along the knuckles on her hands. She walks to stand behind Marinette.

“Nino Lahiffe. Please come forward.” The young man comes forward, but not before giving Alya’s hand a squeeze.

“In the past you were the holder of the Turtle Miraculous. You were given responsibility over protection. Do you desire to continue your responsibility of this miraculous? In doing so you swear your loyalty to me and will uphold your duty as the Turtle.”

“I’m sorry my- huh Supreme Guardian Ma’am, I decline the offer of yours, and Wayzz and I are, like, totally good.” Nino stumbles through his response, but very little embarrassed the laid back man anymore. Marinette can’t keep a small giggle from escaping.

“I thank you for your service and wish you well on your journey.”

“That was a train wreck,” Tim and Jason mutter at the same time.

“Kagami Tsurugi. Please come forward.” Kagami commands the most respect by far as she marches forward, bowing deeply before standing at attention in front of Marinette.

“In the past you were the holder of the Dragon Miraculous. You were given responsibility over Elements. Do you desire to continue your responsibility of this miraculous? In doing so you swear your loyalty to me and will uphold your duty as the Dragon.”

“I humbly accept your offer Supreme Guardian.” Kagami bows once more before taking the choker necklace. This time the flash of light is red, leading to the appearance of Longg the Dragon. There are no exchanges of pleasantries as she fastens the choker. Running her fingers along the bead in the center she also transforms.

She is wearing what looks like a red, black and gold bodysuit, the design flowing all over her body. The top she is wearing looks like a kimono, the hem just above her knees. On her hip rests a katana, her mask red and black trimmed with gold, blending with the horns that now adorn her head. She joins Chole behind Marinette.

“Luka Couffaine. Please come forward.” The final man steps forward, the one from the village. Damian can’t help but glare in distaste.

“In the past you were the holder of the Snake Miraculous. You were given responsibility over time. Do you desire to continue your responsibility of this miraculous? In doing so you swear your loyalty to me and will uphold your duty as the Snake.”

“I gladly accept Supreme Guardian.” He takes a bangle that looks like a coiled snake. With a flash of teal light, the snake creature appears.

“Welcome back young wielder.” he slithers as he bows to Luka and Marinette. The same as the girls, Luka runs his fingers over the bangle, and is left transformed in a teal light. He now has a hood that melds with his loose fitting suit, the pattern of a snakes head on top. He has a whip resting on his hip, attached to a belt. The dark teal of his clothes melding well with his black boots and mask. His eyes took on a more snake like appearance.

“Now that we have selected holders for tonight, I will call an end to the ceremony. I will be leaving in the morning.” The crowd grows restless again. “I have a life outside the temple, but I will continue to follow through on my duties from afar. I will take Kaalki with me for emergencies and will stay in contact with the holders.”

“And the box?” Someone shouts from the crowd.

“Will stay in your capable hands, as you are all guardians. I look forward to our next meeting” She takes a pair of glasses from the box before waving over it, sealing it once more. She stands once again to bow before leaving the room, her three protectors following. Tikki sits neatly in her hair, enjoying being close to her once again. Damian watches and Tim recalls the drone, leaving the occupants unaware of the intruders for now. He is unsure if Marinette will tell all of them.

“We better get a move on if you want to be back in Gotham to pick her up from the airport.” Tim starts working his way back down the mountain before stopping and looking back at the boys. “Could we just call the jet here?”

“And risk them hearing or seeing it? No, get a move on, we have a long hike ahead of us.” Jason laughs, pulling ahead of Tim, who grumbles but accepts his fate. And a long hike it was, when they finally get back to the jet, all of them are ready to drop from exhaustion.

“Who wants to start flying so we can use autopilot?” Jason groans, dropping into a seat.

“I will, I have a lot of thinking to do anyway.” Damian marches into the cockpit and closing it off from the rest of the plane.

“I haven't had coffee in almost 48 hours, this sucks?” Tim all but collapsed on the floor of the jet.

“Get sleep like a normal person then” Jason quips, throwing a pillow from the overhead at Tim before turning in himself. Tim stayed on the floor, grabbing the pillow and curling in on himself, it brain finally crashing.

Damian starts the plane, taking them back to Gotham. Once he reaches the proper altitude for autopilot a call comes in from the Batcave, revealing one Nightwing. “Hey there kid, I see you’re on your way back. How did it go?” Damian just gives a tired sigh, Dicks concern sky rockets.

“She is now a leader of a secret organization the protects magical jewelry, and the last leader forbade her from telling me about it and that's why she stretched the truth. My normal isn’t so normal after all” Dick can only whistle in disbelief.

“That's tough, obviously you’re going to tell her everything?”

“I have too. This whole mess started with secrets, I’m not leaving anything out.” Dick smiles at Damian. He is so proud of his growth and maturity.

“She is lucky to have you.”

“I'll be lucky to still have her after this is all over.” He groans rubbing his face in exhaustion. “I have to tell her everything.” Damian gives his a pointed look, Dick can only nod in agreement.

“Bruce will understand. If she’s the leaders of something that secret even we didn’t know about it, she knows how to keep a secret. After all the whole family knows her secret too, only fair.”

Damian sits quietly for a moment, glancing behind him before continuing, “I’m scared Dick. I’m so scared of losing her. I feel like I really messed up.”

“I really wish I could be certain for you, but I can’t. Just tell her everything and the pieces will fall into place. Every couple goes through a rough patch. Yours is just crazy.”

“I’m going to try and get some sleep now. See you in a few hours.” Dick gives a wave before signing off. Back in the cave, Bruce steps out of the shadows, still in his gear as well.

“He has grown so much.”

“He sure has,” Dick turns to face him, “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“You seem certain that she isn’t going to kill him.” Bruce looks grim. His youngest is very serious about this girl, and the last thing he wants is for them to end it. Damian has worked so hard and deserves happiness.

“Call it my great intuition when it comes to romance” Dick winks at Bruce before walking back up to the manor. Bruce just grunts, still thinking about Damian. He really hoped that it does all work out, but the pessimist in him can’t help but think the worse.

Marinette wakes up in the morning, watching the sunrise over the Tibetan mountains. The sight leaves her feeling excited and refreshed. A new day, a new journey, and new goals. She hoped Damian understood and didn’t leave her for keeping all this a secret. She sighed thinking of the man back home, waiting for her to return believing she was in Paris, not Tibet. She hugged herself against the sudden chill from the mountains.

Damian was everything she wanted. He was straightforward and level headed. He always had something interesting to say and she loved listening to him talk about a variety of subjects. His sense of humor was quiet like himself, and she just felt so balanced when she was around him. He grounded her, keeping her thoughts from spiraling into crazy town.

Tikki came into her field of vision, smiling at her holder. She may not have wanted to be Supreme Guardian, but she will do great things for the Order, she just knew it. “What are you thinking about Marinette?”

“Damian. How much I love him. I am so scared that when I finally tell him, he won't be able to take it.” Her smile slides off her face being replaced with worry.

“Just tell him everything. I don’t believe he will leave you!” Tikki squeaks, flying around the room. Marinette laughs at her optimism, moving to get dressed for the day. “You guys are a great match”

“I don’t doubt you Tikki.” Marinette pulls her sweater over her head before putting the rose gold glasses on, Kaalki joining Tikki in the air. “Damien has helped with my spiralling, and normally I would be thinking the worst possible scenarios right now.” Marineete laughs before moving to finish packing her bag, “But no more of that! Only positive thoughts now!”

Exiting the room, Marinette waves to others walking through the halls, like she always has, but now they hesitantly wave back. The air thick with apprehension, and it frustrated Marinette to no end. By the time she reached the front steps, she was put out and ready to be back in Gotham, where no one knew her as ‘Supreme Guardian’. Where she was just Marinette.

Alya, Adrien, and Nino were waiting for her on the steps, Chole, Kagami and Luka waiting by the door for their orders. Marinette smiled and chirped good morning, each of them returning the sentiment. She turns to her three holders, smiling while performing her business for the day.

“Kagami, I have worked with you on the running's of the temple, are you able to stay for the next few months to ensure everything gets up and running?”

“Yes Mari, it won't be a problem.”

“Thank you Mi,” Marinette's spirits lift at the nickname, thankful that nothing has changed with her friends. She turns to Luka next.

“Luka I am tasking you with establishing relations between ourselves and the Justice League,” His eyes widen in surprise, “It is time they knew and perhaps we can offer assistance while working within the UN’s laws.”

“That is a very important job Mari, are you sure I am the right person for the job?”

“You have a level head on your shoulders Luka, and you have always been the most diplomatic out of all of us.” Luka smiles at the compliment.

“Very well, I will come visit when I have an update. I want to meet Damian as well.” Marinette scowls in embarrassment before returning Luka's smile.

“What do you need from me Mari?” Chole is practically vibrating, her eyes alight with desire and eagerness.

“Chloe, I need you find worthy holders for the temple. It is time to expand. I trust your judgment and for you to train them.”

“Me?” Chole stammers, tears gathering in her eyes. Chole had done a lot of growing up over the years, and she wished she had been quick to leave behind her childish and immoral attitude but change did take time. Everyone had been nothing but supportive and encouraging throughout her transformation.

And Marinette wanted her to handle such a delicate task. What is she chose wrong? What is she was the reason for the temple's destruction? What if, what if? Marineete quickly pulls her into a hug, whispering encouragement in her ear, Chole is quick to grab onto her sweater, the tears coming faster now.

“I could really screw this up Mari-”

“I don’t believe that for a second, I know you are the perfect one for this job.”

“But what if I-”

“Chole.” Marinette pulls back to smile at the woman, their eyes searching each other, before both becoming a matching hard gaze of determination.

“Of course Mari, I will visit with a report as well.” She gives a little salute, enticing a giggle from everyone present, before whipping her tears.

“I’ll see you all later, and good luck.” With that Mari descends the staircase, the three turning into the temple, the heavy doors closing behind them. The start of a new era, Marinette thinks fondly to herself, ready to be home. “Let's get to Paris everyone.” With a flick of her fingers, she transforms, and opens the portal, Nino and Adrien ribbing each other as they walked through, Alya only rolling her eyes before following, Marinette looks back one last time at the majestic temple, before stepping through herself, finally glad to actually be in Paris as she said she was.

Damian finds himself anxiously waiting for Marinette to tell him when she would be coming home. He missed her desperately, and really needed to have this conversation with her. But right now he just really missed having her in his arms, her laugh, her kisses, their cuddle sessions on her couch. He really missed his Habibti.

His phone started to ring, with trembling hands his goes to pick it up, only to almost drop it multiple times, finally answer on the last ring.

“There you go again, making me think I was going to miss you,” Her voice was refreshing, a drink for a dying man. Damian now feels the nerves of seeing her again, he can feel his heart pounding and the flows of adrenaline starting. Damian scowls, this isn't a battle, just a simple phone call with his girlfriend.

“I was so excited to hear your voice I almost dropped my phone.” Damian had started being more honest with his feelings a few months in, Marinette affect on him an unknown welcomed change.

“Awe, well lucky for you I am boarding the plane now, I’ll be home in eight hours.”

“I’ll be waiting”

“See you soon.” She pauses on the line, “I love you Damian” She breathes out, the sound making Damians heart goes wild, and the guilt in his gut come back with a vengeance.

“I love you too” With that Damian hangs up, and drops his head into his hands. Eight hours alone with his thoughts, and emotions. He starts to cry, fear over taking him. Damian could face down Killer Croc, he could jump from skyscraper to skyscraper without flinching. He knew the consequences if anything went wrong in those situations. A respectful fear of the known.

But this. Telling Marinette how he didn't trust her, followed her and betrayed her in such a way. That scared him like never before. He couldn’t even begin to plan how this would go, how she would react, how his life would be afterwards. He felt sick to his stomach, all his muscles clenching around his organs, pulling his spiraling mind into the mess.

Dick knocked on his door, entering quietly, finding a red eyed Damian staring at the wall, his hands clenched tightly in front of his face. He simply sat beside him, offering an encouraging pat on the back, patiently waiting for him to initiate. He didn’t have anywhere to be, Kori understood the importance of him staying in Gotham awhile longer.

“I have never felt this kind of fear before.” Damian whispers, he unclenches his hands, trembling however his eyes do not move from the wall. “I can’t lose her Dick. Look at me now, how could I survive without her.” He chokes up, the thought of her leaving and hating him too much.

“Tell me the qualities you like about her.” All tension leaves Damian, his eyes losing the frantic fear and taking on a soft love.

“She is fierce and strong. She brings so much joy and beauty to this world. Her mind is like no other, always thinking and planning. She takes any opportunity presented to care for others.”

“Does she seem like the kind of person to just walk out without resolving issues?”

“No, but she did hide from me one time after a misunderstanding.”

“But you guys were able to talk it out?”

“Yea she said she would never ignore me again.”

“Is she someone who goes back on her word?”

“Never.” Damian is angry at Dick for suggesting such a thing. Dick only smiles at Damian and pats him on the back, standing to leave.

“Then trust what you know about her, what you value in her. Everything will be fine Damian.” He only nodes, back to staring at the wall, but less tense then he when Dick first entered the room. Everything would be fine.

Damian now stand in the airport, he stands perfectly still despite the bundle of nerves racking his insides. He sees her before she sees him, her attention is on her phone, a small frown pulling at her lips, the new glasses on her face making her only cuter.

He quickly walks to her, she looks up at him surprised when he immediately pulls her close. She melts into the hug, his strong arms resulting to her. She giggles as he refuses to let go for another two minutes, her protest finally being headed when he steps back, taking her bag in one hand and her small hand in the other.

“Missed you too dork.” Marinette giggles, she glances at him, but his doesn’t look at her. He only gives her a strained smile, leading them back to his car. Marinette doesn’t think anything of it until the car ride is al silent as the walk through the airport.

“Anything interesting happen while I was gone?” Marinette's heart freezes for a moment when Damian tenses, hands tightening around the steering wheel. She starts to feel like something is wrong, Damian was hiding something.

“Huh, not really.” He mumbles, eyes never leaving the road. Marinette starts to panic, his behavior setting her on edge. Now Marinette, I’m sure it’s nothing bad. No spiraling. She takes a deep breath. You’re imagining things, nothing is wrong.

The car ride continues in silence, Marinette staring out the window, trying to get a grip on her emotions and keeping herself from coming up with outlandish theories for Damian's attitude. She glances at him, the wrinkles in his face showing how truly on edge he was. No, Marinette tells herself, something is wrong.

“What's wrong Damian?” Again he stiffens, she watches as he swallowed thickly, adams apple betraying his nerves. She narrows her eyes, watching as he starts to sweat. He opens and closes his mouth multiple times before speaking.

“I made a mistake.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he pulls over, Marinette's apartment building looming in front of them. “We can talk inside.” He quickly gets out of the car, Marinette scrambling to catch up.

Ok so he made a mistake. It probably isn't that bad. He probably spilled something on my sketchbook, or he messed up the dress I was working on, or he met someone and- nope don't finish that thought Marinette. This is Damain we are talking about. Whatever his mistake was, it's not that bad.

She catches up to Damian as he is unlocking the door, dropping her bag right away and taking a seat on her couch. She joins him, staring out the large windows, enjoying the view while she waits for him to start speaking. Or at least she was trying to. Her hands are trembling as she plays with the fingers, trying to remain calm.

“You don’t deserve me” Is all he says, and those simple words break open the dam holding back Marinette's irrational emotional state. The tears start small, before they are quickly falling off her chin and into her hands. She couldn’t believe he would do such a thing, it was the only explanation to everything. Damian cheated on her.

The sudden I love you, the jittery behavior, unable to meet her eyes. Guilt radiated off him in waves, the awareness of the emotion suffocating her now. It all makes sense. She was in shock, she was only gone a week. Was their relationship that fragile, it's a good thing she hadn’t told him anything yet. She feels her heart harden. She will not trust so easy again.

“This is all Tim’s fault, just so you know. I-” He glanced at her now, dread filling him as he sees her crying, Damian had never seen her cry before now. He was not sure what to do.

“How is Tim at fault for you cheating on me?” She chokes out, now looking angry and confused. Damian joins in on the confusion.

“What are you talking about Marinette? I have never cheated on you” Now he's panicked. Where had she gotten such an idea?

“But you said,” She starts, her sentences breaking up with her shuddering breaths, “that you made a mistake, that I don’t deserve you. You are giving off so much guilt!” She stands, Damian leaning back from the angry woman in front of him. “Explain what the hell is going on right now!

“Tim bugged your phone because he was suspicious of you. We followed you to Tibet and we saw everything at the temple.” Damian spits everything out as quickly as he can, seeing Marinette angry at him for the first time scaring him.

Her face morphs between confusion, anger, shock, and understand before she settles on shock. She retakes her seat on the couch, Damian scoots closer taking her hand in his own. “He did what to my phone?”

“He bugged it. They were trying to protect me, stupidly, and when they played the recording of your call I didn’t know what to think. I thought you were like an assassin or something.” She snorts at that. If only she knew.

“How did Tim do that?” Damian looks deep into her eyes, he finds himself getting lost but finally knows how to answer her. His family deserved this after the breach of privacy they did to Marinette.

“He is Red Robin. I told him to not do a background check on you, but he did anyway and needed to find the reason you didn’t want to meet the family. You could say paranoia is a family trait.” Marinette smiles softly, taking Damian's face in her hand.

“Ironic that two people with important secrets find each other.” The looks she gives him is one of understanding and love. She is taking this too well.

“Why aren’t you angry with me?” He chokes out, “Why are you taking my lack of trust in you so well?”

“You thought I was an assassin Damian,” He scowls at her teasing grin, “and I was going to tell you anyway.”

“But-”

“Nope, I forgive you. After all I did lie to you. I should be the one apologizing.”

“You weren’t allowed to tell me, I can’t hold that against you.” Her eyes widen in surprise, her mouth making a cute o shape.

“How did you know that?”

“We had a drone enter the temple so we could see and hear what was going on.” Damian hesitates a moment but continued, “I was afraid to see what was going on. I didn't want it to be like the temple I crew up in.” He shouldn’t have said that.

“What temple Damian?”

“Please understand why I haven’t told you this before,” He can’t back down now. He hasn’t lied to her yet, and he isn’t going to start now.

“It can’t be that bad Damian.” She sounds so understanding and reassuring, squeezing his hands before smiling at him.

“You would probably wish I had cheated on you.” She looks more apprehensive now, but stays firm. “I was raised by the league of assassins,” understanding shines in her eyes.

“At the age of eight, as a right of passage of sorts I had to complete a mission.” Damian starts to feel sick, telling her this. Surely she will run for the hills once he tells her this. “I was assigned to assasinate, murder, a man. I didn’t know his name, or why the league needed him dead. Just that I had to do it, and I didn’t want to disappoint my Mother and Grandfather.”

Damian avoided looking at her, resigning himself for her to leave and never talk to him again. She takes her hands out of his, the action hurting but Damian Understands, he wouldn’t want to touch a murder either. Once again Marinette surprises him, by climbing into his lap. She takes his face in her hands, staring deeply into his eyes, using her thumbs to wipe away his tears.

“I love you Damian Wayne. Skeletons and all.” She kisses him firmly, trying to put all her emotions into the kiss, trying to make him understand the love she has for him. She smiles into the kiss as he wraps his arms around her slim frame. He deepens the kiss, accepting all her love, relieved to be blessed by Marinette’s beautiful soul. An Afreet such as himself didn’t deserve the touch of one as pure and genuine as her.

“I don’t deserve you.” Damian whispers, his words thick with emotion as he tried not to cry.

“If anyone deserves love and kindness its you Damian. And I’m never going to stop giving you that.” Damian holds her tighter, head resting on her shoulder while hers on his head. This moment right here, He wanted it to continue forever. She didn’t run and He wasn’t going to lose her now.

“Marry me.” She pushes back on his shoulders, giving herself a clear view of his face. “Marry me and stay by my side forever. Let me return all your kindness for the rest of my life. Let me love you and cherish you. Let me be your husband Marinette, Habibti.”

She starts to cry again, but Damian doesn’t panic this time because there is a bright Marinette smile accompanying the tears. “Yes. Marry me and let me shower you with the love you deserve. I am going to never let you go.” She squeals as Damian stands, spinning her around the room, kissing her face and neck as they dance with each other around the apartment.

“I like that promise.” They kissed once more, lost in each other's devotion. Both content with no more secrets, and the love found in each other. Damian cherishing a love he had never known and Marinette cherishing freedom in following her heart. Both making decisions for themselves for what feels like the first time. A decision to be happy.

Part Two

#daminette #maridami #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

152 notes · View notes

damn-stark · 4 years ago

Text

Something There

Chapter 6 of Dark Temptations

A/N- I had so much fun writing this chapter, I love it!! I hope you guys like it too!! Let me know what you thought?! (Also this chapter was inspired by the ‘Something There from Beauty and The Beast’)

Warning- Angst, swearing, violence, SLOWBURN, LOOONG chapter

Pairing- Dark!Poe Dameron x Skywalker!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Everything.” Snokes voice echoed behind you, seeing his reflection casted on the transparisteel as he stood closely behind you and asked, “have you heard of the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”

You look away from the transparisteel and see as he walks closer to you but only far enough to stay hidden in the shadows. “No.”

Snoke mused, “I thought not, it’s not a story your father nor your grandfather would tell you. It’s a sith legend, Darth Plagueis was a dark lord of the sith so powerful and so wise he could use the force to influence the midi-chlorians to create life. He said such knowledge of the dark side he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying.”

You blink and fully turn to face Snoke, getting basked by the darkness of the room and unwantedly feeling as if he were bewitching you with every word he uttered. “Really?” You asked curiously. “He could save people from dying?”

Snoke nods as a wicked smile grows on his lips, “the dark side of the force is a pathway to many abilities some consider unnatural. It’s a power your grandfather Vader didn’t even know, but one you could learn and become far greater than he ever was.”

Again you blink and this time you swallow thickly as you suddenly snap from your stupor, as you truly heard what he said; feeling an anger and sense of confidence begin to bubble inside of you that made you speak up against Snokes attempts; “you’re wrong about one thing Supreme Leader Snoke. Darth Vader was never my grandfather. Anakin Skywalker is.”

Snokes smugness drops and he shows a terrifying serious expression.

You notice it and your confidence falters but you continue, “whatever trick you're thinking of trying to pull off, it’s not going to work. I will not fall for the temptations of the dark side.”

“Not even to get your brother Jacen Skywalker back?” Snoke quickly counters, making everything you tried to uphold before slowly wither and shrivel up inside you. Something he instantly took pride in as he had regained the upper hand—“not even then, Skywalker? Hmm?”

You shake your head and take a step back, feeling the confidence completely blow away and your anger take over. “No. No. It’s not possible. He’s dead. Your apprentice made sure of that.”

“So your father never told you then? Never told you of a way to bring your brother back?” Snoke queried, taking your silence as a sign to continue. “There is one. A way to fully bring him back, but it’s a way that you can only know of course if you join me and my apprentices.”

You gulp. “Why don’t you tell me now and I’ll consider.”

Snoke chuckled. “Do you take me for a fool?” Silence again overcomes you but this time you shrug and show a faint smirk. He shoots you a glare before he finishes. “I’m not one, I know that the moment I tell you, you’ll run off and try, but what you don’t know is that the only way to achieve such a notion and know of the way, you have to join the dark side and leave your jedi ways.”

Your eyes drop to the floor and you respond with a low grumble, “I’ll never join you.” You look up at him with a glowering glare, “like I’ve said before, I’m a jedi, I will not fall for your temptations.”

Snokes pride doesn’t drop as he shows you an ugly grin, “we’ll see about that.” He steps back and looks towards the bright hall just as Poe joins you. Unbeknownst to you, grinning wider as he saw your eyes instantly find Poe’s—“take her back to her quarters, my apprentice, our girl here has a lot to think about. And after you do so come back to me, we need to talk.”

Poe nods stiffly, “yes, master.” His gaze once again goes to you and he walks over to you, trying to grab your arm but failing to do so as you pull it away from him. He scoffs and tries again, this time succeeding and gripping onto it tightly. Proceeding to pull you down the hall that was brightened by brighter lights, letting the silence and a tension build even as you reached the elevator. Occasionally stealing a glance each other’s way, shoving away the questions that were building within each of you, especially him. Only feeling your anger overflow inside you but unable to read a single thought inside your head as he tried to do it discreetly. Just adding pressure to the already built pain.

It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened did the tension and the pressure stop all at once, letting only the questions to linger overhead. One finally managing to be asked by Poe as he walked you down the hall with your arm in one hand and his helmet in the other. “What did he want?”

Your eyes meet his as you look at him from the corner of your eyes, frowning even deeper as Snokes words echo louder in your head the moment he asks. Now you didn’t feel like answering, but you did so regardless and bluntly. “It doesn't matter.”

Poe shrugs, stopping in front of your door before responding. “I mean you’re angry so it does.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, feeling a cold breeze as your door behind you slides open— “it doesn’t matter. Just leave me alone.” You snap. Making him scoff and take a step back before he retorted just as sharply.

“Fine, I’m sorry I was worried and asked. I won’t do it again.”

You huff out angrily at his comment and take a step back into the room, letting the door close in front of his face. Something that let your surroundings suddenly get engulfed by the darkness and coldness of the room. Making your shoulders drop and the mask of anger for him and his question fall at the moment the silence of the room echoed in your ears, noticing once more how lonely it was inside, having only your loud and cruel thoughts as company.

——

“And if they come back again? They most likely wanted to kill me, but found...Jacen first. I can’t be close. I have to hide and leave y/n behind.” Your father's voice sounded clearly in the room, the words making your heart crack and tears instantly fill your eyes, pulling away from Ben’s grasp as you burst into the room. The sudden interruption causing all three adults to look your way.

“You’re leaving?” You whimpered, looking to your father and trying to fight back your tears.

“Y/N.” He muttered, his eyes darting to his sisters across the table before looking at you once more. “I have to—”

“Without me? What about Jacen? Are we not going to go after the person that killed him?” You rambled, hearing your voice crack and feeling the need to let your tears fall burn your eyes; “I-I saw. It was someone in a mask...I-I saw. You can’t leave.”

He walked up to you and put both hands on both of your shoulders, letting his gaze turn assuring, but not his words. “We don’t look for revenge, as tragic as it was we don’t—”

“He was your son!” You cried as you pulled away from his touch and let your expression twist into one of anger. “And my brother! How are we not going to kill the person that killed him?!”

“Because it’s not right.” He argued, “you are a Jedi. We don’t look for revenge. It will only lead you down a dark path.” He sighed and tried to walk towards you again, hesitantly this time as he saw and felt your anger. “I know you’re mad and grieving, but we can’t. Promise me you won’t.”

Your lip quivered as you looked into his blue eyes, unable to respond with a definite answer as you still didn’t know what to do. You knew you wanted justice, but you also knew your father was right. The ghosts you talked to everyday always taught you that too. But he was your brother. Maybe the real debate was if he would want this? Jacen was daring and little more ruthless than most, he often did things that went against what your father would say a jedi should act, but Master Kenobi said those were just traits similar to your grandfathers and that Jacen was far from turning to the dark side. So would Jacen want to be avenged?

His body didn’t disappear so it meant he was no ghost, even if Master Kenobi did say that neither did Master Qui-gon’s and he turned into a force ghost. But unlike him, Jacen never appeared to either ghosts you talked to. They said that they haven't seen him or felt his presence. So it was impossible to really know. To get to communicate with him. So again it was hard to know if revenge is what he would want.

Is it something you want?

You look away from your father and look out the window, watching the darkness that the night brought as you thought for a moment. Only looking at your father once you came up with a response, “then promise me you’ll stay, or let me come with you. Please.”

Your father blinked and looked towards the ground as he tried to hide the sadness and pity in his eyes at the answer he immediately knew he was going to give. And once he managed to find the courage, he reached to cup your cheek and give his answer. “I’m sorry, but I have to hide alone. I can’t risk them finding you too. You have to go with your aunt Leia and stay with them, Ben will—”

“No.” You seethed as you stepped away from him, hearing your heart finally break inside your chest. “I understand you loud and clear. No need to further explain.” Shooting him one last lingering glare you turn around and storm out of the hut, hearing Ben instantly follow after you in the dead of night, no stars or fires to light the way you were going. Just storming off blindly in the darkness, hearing Ben’s footsteps track behind you as the only indication that you weren’t alone.

“Y/N! Wait! Y/N….”

——

“..hey, y/n.” Finn uttered as he basically ripped off the helmet off his head.

Looking away from the dark view outside the transparisteel you shift your body as you sit on the couch to face him with a small smile, greeting him just as warmly. “Hi, Finn. Good morning...or is it night? I can never tell here.”

Said man walks towards you and basically throws himself on the couch, “I don’t know either. But basing that I woke up a few hours ago, I’ll say it’s morning. Somewhere.”

You hum and turn to face him, noticing the lack of trays he always carried when coming to your room—“uhh, no food today? Are Poe or Snoke starving me because of what I said a few hours ago?”

Finn chuckled and shook his head, “no. Uh, Nomad ranted about you a bit after he came back from seeing Snoke, but he didn’t say anything about starving you. Like I would listen if he did.”

You grin warmly, “aww you’re gonna make me blush.”

Finn responded with a light hearted scoff, going silent as he locked his eyes with yours for a lingering moment until you looked away and broke the tension you felt building at the shared interaction, as well as breaking the silence with a clear of your throat before speaking up. “I do want to thank you...” you look away from the void space and turn to him to continue, noticing his attention had gone unwavered.

“...for taking your time to eat with me for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I really enjoy it. I enjoy our time together as well as your company.” Your voice cracks but you swallow back the lump in your throat that began to form and burn. “I’m not used to eating alone...I'm always used to eating with someone. Usually now my cousin Ben, or my aunt Leia, or my uncle Han and or Chewie. Sometimes all four. Or it would be Ahsoka before she got mad at me. I mean she can’t eat cause she’s a ghost but she keeps me company.” You stopped and took in a shaky breath of air, looking up to the ceiling to avoid crying as you exhaled just as shakily.

Finn took a moment to give a response. You didn’t know if it was because your words touched him or because he was speechless, but he stayed silent for a moment, enough time to let you look towards him again. Noticing that he was looking away and that his gaze had faltered even if a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t until he sighed deeply a couple minutes later that he finally turned to look at you once more, his smile still there but barely noticeable. He blinked and shared what seemed to trouble him.

“Nomad said that you should go eat with him at the mess hall. That’s why I didn’t bring food, because he wants you to go join him.”

Your smile turns into a firm straight line on your face. “Like alone?”

“He said if that’s how you want it, then alone, but there's people there now. Just people from his squadron, or well his inner circle, those he trusts most. So those we saw yesterday and a couple others. Oh and also Rey.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and shrug before looking away and responding quietly. “I don’t know...I like it alone. I’m not that good with people or well crowds of people I don’t know. I mean when it comes to fighting yes, but not when it comes to talking.”

“You don’t have to talk to anyone. And I’ll be there,” he paused and hesitated. “So will Nomad.”

You hum and feel your stomach grumble, the sound giving you your answer. “Fine, but only for a while and only because there's food.” Without waiting for a response you push yourself to the edge of the couch and step into your shoes before standing up, right away noticing that Finn was still sitting and seeming to have something else on his mind. A detail you didn't take long to question. “Everything okay?”

“Yesterday, when you stood up for those resistance fighters,” he began in almost a whisper, “why did you do it? You were willing to give your life for them, why?” He asked as he looked over to you with a troubled gaze.

You swallow thickly and answer almost instantly. “Because it was the right thing to do. They were going to kill them because of my mistakes, it wasn’t right, so I wanted to take the fall, it didn’t matter. But they….ended up dying so, I guess I didn’t try hard enough.”

Finn blinked, “when do you do the right thing? How do you know?”

“Uhh,” you pause and look towards the ground as you find it difficult to answer. “It’s just an instinct I guess. No one gets to tell you when. It’s something you have to decide on your own.” Your gaze drifts to his still rather troubled person. Making the curiosity inside you grow tenfold. “Why—”

“What about the force?” He cut you off, “what is that?”

“Well the force is as my father puts it; is not a power one has. It’s not all about lifting rocks. It’s an energy between all things. A tension, a balance, that binds the universe together.” Your eyes narrow on him and you tilt your head slightly. “Why? Why all these questions?”

Finn shakes his head and shrugs, his gaze still looking troubled. “Just...curious.”

You let out a soft hum and watch as he stands up abruptly, walking around the couch and walking towards the door, stopping before it as it slid open and the lights from the hall casted his shadow inside the room. Pointing his head to the hall to wave you over, “come on, let’s go.” You hesitate for a couple seconds before you walk up to follow him out of the room. Walking down the usually empty hall in silence as he seemed to be lost inside his head. The only sound that filtered inside were the sounds of your steps echoing in the hall and later the door sliding open as he turned to walk into what you saw was the mess hall that he mentioned.

Seeing right away the new faces of the people he talked about. The ones that Poe supposedly trusted the most. There weren’t a lot, but definitely more than four. And as you walked further inside, you saw to the side in one corner the four from yesterday gathered around a table, while the rest of the mess hall was filled with different sentients and humans alike. In the far end you noticed was Poe with a group of girls around him, all batting their eyelashes and smiling sweetly. While he seemed to talk and talk about the force knows what; sitting across him from was the brunette you instantly recognized as Rey. She didn’t turn at the sound of the door, not like you could hear it with all the talking and scraping of utensils against the plates.

In fact no one seemed to notice either Finn or you until Poe ruined that moment as his gaze found yours, basically pushing the group of girls around him to the side and offering you an immediate charming smile. Seeming to forget what either of you said to each other only hours before. And once Finn and you finally reached his table, he looked up to you and greeted you in a very smug way. “Princess, I’m glad you came.”

You let out a huff of air, “are you really?”

He smiles wider. “Yes.”

“Hi,” Rey greets, a smirk tugging on her lips as she speaks in a mocking tone, “Princess.”

You scoff and ignore her greeting as you sit in front of her and in between Poe and Finn. Seeing as Poe pushed a plate covered by foil towards you and one towards Finn, looking at you mainly as he continued. “I got you a plate, I didn’t know what you’d want so I got you a little bit of everything.” You manage a small and feigned thankful smile as you take the foil off your plate. Picking up the fork to pick at the food before shifting your eyes to him one more. “I would have made you food myself, but if I made you food I would have to make everyone else here food. And well I think that gesture should be reserved for a special occasion.”

You scoff and lift your eyebrow, feeling your lips tug into a genuine amused smile. “You cook?”

He smiled sweetly and leaned in closer, lifting his thumb and then his index finger up to his lips to suck the nectar of the fruit he had eaten off of them slowly and one by one. The action making your eyes unexpectedly slide down to his lips to watch him, swallowing thickly as you begin to squirm in your seat before finally tearing your eyes away a little too late to go unnoticed. Feeling flustered (even more so) as he followed by licking his lips and whispering in a tone that made you shiver, “only for special people.”

You clear your throat and look down at your food, picking at a piece of fruit and shoving it into your mouth. Avoiding his stare as you swallowed the fruit and talked to him as you continued looking down at your food, hiding and hoping this weird flustered feeling would go away. “Uh...next time then.”

He hummed in agreement, “next time.”

You continued to eat and avoid the stares for a while until slowly all sound began to tune out, feeling as your eyes fixated on the plate that was soon empty and clean from the colorful foods that had once decorated on top of it, not necessarily focusing on the plate itself. Simply using it as a form to keep your eyes on something as your attention flew hundreds of miles away and you began to think of how you missed your uncle Hans sarcastic jokes; the way only Chewie and you would laugh at them and on occasion your aunt Leia. Usually though she disapproved of them. While Ben pretended not to be interested even though you would see him crack a smile.

You missed the hundreds of war stories Ahsoka would tell to keep herself busy as you ate, or the lighthearted bickering between her and your grandfather; on occasion hearing, Master Kenobi join in one or two here and there. You missed seeing the beautiful colors painted on a real sky, the greenery that D’Qar was filled with. The feeling of knowing your father was okay and hiding out in the depths of the galaxy. You just missed the force in general. Missed the comfort of having your cousin Ben around even if most of the time he was silent. Missed being free….

“I’m surprised you’re not out there flirting with your crush, Skywalker.” Poe spoke by your ear, disrupting you from your thoughts to focus your attention on him.

You sigh, “I said he reminded me of someone, Poe, not that I liked him.”

“Damn sorry. I was just teasing.”

You sigh again and push your empty plate forward, crossing your arms on the table before you mumbled out your response. “I’m just tired of being here.” Poe stays silent but you could feel his eyes on you, the feeling making you groan and turn to him. “What?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer this time, “I’m taking a couple of my troopers with me to a recon mission, do you want to come?”

You straighten out your shoulders and cock your head to the side, lifting one eyebrow to question his motives. “I’m not going to help you kill innocent people, nor fight resistance fighters.”

Poe shakes his head, “none of that. Supreme leader Snoke wants me to go down on this planet allied with us to check why they’ve gone silent. No fighting, just checking.”

Your gaze narrows on him to debate for a moment before your desperation to breathe fresh air and see a real sky beat you to answering. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.”

At your answer, Poe sat up straighter in his spot and offered you a smug smile.

——

As the ship slowly began to lower, your eyes drifted to look out the transparisteel, noticing the soft light green fields of grasslands surrounding the beautiful white capital city. Noticing the blue sky scattered with big greyish clouds that looked as if they were going to fully invade the serenity of the calm skies any moment now. The sight made you sigh and think how tragically beautiful it looked regardless of the storm that seemed to be brewing. Sighed in content as you knew you’d feel real fresh air circulate through your lungs. No more, for at least a while, of that artificial air that circulated in the piece of sky trash you were imprisoned on.

“Come on,” Finn spoke beside you in a more muffled voice due to the helmet on his head, one that hid his face just like how Nomads mask hid Poe’s face—only the thing that differed between the two was that your mind didn’t identify a masked Finn as someone else completely, not like how you viewed Poe with the helmet of Nomad on—Maybe it was due to the fact that every time you saw the masked face of Nomad, all you could see was that tragic day he killed Jacen. While without the helmet you only saw the familiar eyes of the man you knew before.

It was a dilemma. Truly.

Standing from your seat you follow Finn out of the cargo ship to question him. Mainly on your motives in being here. “Why exactly are you all here? I mean Poe said recon, but I don’t believe him.”

“Why not?” Poe answered for Finn as he passed by you, his helmet surprisingly off. “It’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.” He continued saying over his shoulder as he made it past the ramp and stopped onto the field of long grass.

You narrow your gaze and lift one eyebrow to respond with a loud scoff. Still not believing a word he said whilst you continued to walk off the ship, feeling a small but happy smile tug on your lips as you felt the cold breeze hit your face, as you deeply inhaled some of that sweet and real air; As you brushed your fingers against the blades of the long grass. Only feeling your smile widen as you look up to see the sky, as you felt for a single moment the freedom that had been stolen from you. But only for a moment before Poe’s voice brought you back to the ground.

“You’ve ever been to Lothal before?”

“No.” You breathe, having no choice but to follow him and his small group towards multiple tall stone spires strangely arranged in a circle. “But, I know that Lothal isn’t only famous for their grasslands or Lothal cats, but the fighters they manufacture for you and your precious army.”

The corner of his lips tug into a smirk as he lets out a small huff of air through this nose before walking towards a large giant rock spiral in the center of the circle, “yes, we’re here because of what Lothal provides us. Or has been lacking in as of late.” He walks around the rock to use the force to throw aside a thin slab of rock that hid an entrance to the hallowed rock. “We’re here just to check though. See what we can spot from afar before we have to decide how to approach.” He continues guiding you inside where you see a small place with nothing to offer but grey stone walls and a cut out square on the wall that is meant to be a window. Noticing as well, spiral stairs carved out by the entrance that as you followed Poe up them saw that it led to yet another empty room, more carved out squares and circular holes on the walls.

“Finn, why don’t you look out of that one on the far right and I’ll look out of this one.” Poe instructed as he handed Finn a pair of binoculars, noticing Odette, the purple Mirlian walking up the stairs, her helmet off her head and under her arm—Poe smirked at the sight and lightly hit your arm and pointed to her with his head. Your eyes followed before he spoke up in an over nonchalant tone. “Odette, why don’t you stay by Finn and look out from this level. Princess and I will go to the third floor.” Said girl just offers him a pointed look and nothing else, while Finn remained clueless as to what was going on. Poe met your gaze and wiggled his eyebrows while a boyish smile tugged on his lips.

You eyed Finn and Odette before looking back at Poe before scoffing and walking up the last flight of spiral stairs, missing the way Poe shot Dario and Sibyl a thumbs up for his “job well done”, before his gaze shifted to you walking up the stairs, smirking before he took long strides up the stairs to quickly catch up to you. Quietly watching as you walked to a carved out hole and seemed to look out of it yourself—“see something?”

“I’ll tell you when I gain the ability to have super vision.” You remark in a more half hearted manner. Poe noticed and simply shook his head, putting on his helmet to look out the carved out square, moving his gloved finger to the side of his helmet to press on a button you presumed was to enhance and zoom in to the city. Leaving you with nothing to do but look out and admire the view of the white city from so far and so high up. “Have you seen something?” You question….Nomad as you turn to see him still looking out.

He shakes his head and looks down at his beeping comm on his wrist; tapping it once to sputter out the hologram of Rey. The girl not hesitating to speak as her eyes seemed to wander around as if looking out for someone or something. While her voice was quieter than usual. “BB8 and I spotted something, in the outskirts of the city hidden in what appears to be an abandoned garage. X-wing fighters.” Your eyes narrow and you fully pull your body away from the wall and watch Rey’s hologram. “Resistance x-wings. The marks on the ground are fresh, if they had been left here years ago, there would be no marks. They were just put here. Which means that Master Snoke’s and General Hux’s suspicions might be true.”

Nomad grunted and his other hand balled into a fist before he asked in a deeper voice. “What about actual resistance fighters? Anyone suspicious?”

“No, if they’re here, they’re not going to be out and about. Especially not if they’re here for secret meetings.” Rey spared one glance at Poe and spoke in a more teasing tone. “Ask Skywalker, she might know something.” With that the hologram cut off and Nomad slammed his fist into the stoned wall, ripping the helmet off his head and slamming it to the floor before he bellowed out

“Fuck! I fucking knew it.” He ran his hand down his gelled hair and breathed out deeply through his nose, snapping his head up to look at you with his red and angry twisted face. “What do you know? Huh?” He quickly followed by storming towards you and stopping inches before you, looking at you with an angry burning glare that made his dark eyebrows furrow. While also making his nose flare and his breathing heavy, as well as made his face red and for the veins on his neck to show, just like a small one on his forehead—and such a sight would’ve made anyone else nervous, intimidated or scared, but for you it did nothing of the sort. Instead it made you dangerously brave and snappy. An effect that only happened with him though because with anyone else you would be less so—there was also something you could feel upon noticing his anger but it was a feeling you couldn’t identify.

“What do you know, y/n!” Poe hissed as he stepped closer, “you better tell me before—”

“Nothing!” You interrupt sharply. “I don’t know anything.”

Poe scoffs and presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! You’re a commander and niece to the General. I know you’re not clueless, so. Tell. Me.”

“Like any of that means anything.” You scoff as you keep your eyes locked on each other. “I have the title because my aunt felt bad for me. I didn’t ask for it. And her being my aunt doesn’t mean shit either, I hardly spent time at base, so I’m out of the loop.” You point your finger at his chest and take a step closer to him to look at him with confident glare. “So why don’t you cool it on your anger issues and stop yelling at me.”

Poe huffs out and pushes past you, storming down both flights of stairs and commanding his squadron in the meanwhile. “Helmets on and weapons ready. We’re going after those rebel scum hiding in the city.”

Your eyes widen at his statement and your breath hitches. A fear for those comrades you knew were out there somewhere most likely doing a mission sent by their General. Or perhaps simply passing time in the city. Regardless of what they were doing you couldn’t let them die; so quickly you rush after Poe and push past his troopers that were quick to follow his command, following him out the hollowed out rock, grabbing his arm to pull him to face you—“don’t be an idiot.”

“Excuse me?” He sneered.

You swallow thickly and briefly look towards the ground. “What you’re planning to do isn’t smart. One, you don’t know where they are, you’ll just be going in blindly, and two,” you hesitate for only a second, blinking up to meet his unwavering gaze, “you attacking first is going to prove something. You say this planet has gone quiet and you think they might want to switch sides right?” He hums and drops his gaze on the hand you still had on his arm before looking at you again. “Well attacking first is only going to prove something and only make them shift closer to the resistance. Not only that, but you're only one ship, they have multiple. They’ll win and they will get all of you locked up. You need to be patient, search your feelings, Poe. I can’t search through mine, but I can tell you that they’re quiet for a reason.”

Poe places on hand on his hips and rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek, nodding slowly as his gaze wanders to the rocks behind you for a moment before he meets your gaze. “What do you suggest I do then?”

You shrug, “if you really want to know something...know where they might be or what’s going on, then go to the outskirts of the city, the poorest parts always know more than the richer. They’re also the ones most likely working on your materials, you’ll learn something there. But you need to be patient, you’ll know nothing from being harsh.”

His gaze narrows on you for a moment as he stays quiet and thinks.

“Trust me.” You try and assure him.

“Okay,” he nods, “fine I’ll trust you. We won’t attack.”

The corner of your lips tug into a half smile and you drop your hand from his arm, letting your eyes slowly study his outfit, “but you can’t go in your armor or your helmets.” You point out as your eyes meet his once more. “Too much attention. Go in regular clothing to blend in.”

Poe smiles smugly, “fine.” He shoots you a cocky and yet charming grin, “only because I’m trusting you.”

——

“Are you sure it’s going to be safe?” Otto asks Poe in a voice he thought was quiet, but was anything but that. “What if this planet is really allied with the resistance? What if her family is looking for her? Her father is a famous jedi who won the war before, there's thousands of people that would do anything to save the daughter of a war hero.” He shoots you a side eye over his shoulder as he finishes “whispering” to Poe, making you roll your eyes but stay pacing behind them and acting as if you were looking at passing small homes and people of all kinds, faking to be entertained by the items and or food vendors sold and tried to make you buy. Ignoring the obvious looks they would give you as they talked about you or rather Poe’s safety.

“It’s fine, as long as we keep low we’ll be fine.” Poe “whispered” in return, “plus the only commotion has been that they saw Han Solo in Takodana, but that’s all. Nothing else. We’re fine….”

Han Solo in Takodana? Hmm…just him? His visit might not be unusual since Maz’s castle is a sanctuary for smugglers, but he hardly likes going there. Could he just be there just cause or is he there for information on you? Is Ben with him?

Your gaze dropped like your shoulders had at the thought of them. The thought of them looking for you excited you, but it also worried you since you knew it was a dangerous task that could result in nothing good. Missions with your uncle Han hardly ever went perfect and always seemed to result in someone shooting at all of you, especially him, or him shooting at someone. You could only imagine how this mission would turn out.

“Plus,” Poe continued in a louder voice, “she’s okay, she has a hood on.”

“Ah, yes the power of the hood.” Sibyl remarked sarcastically, “she’s practically invisible.”

Poe scoffed and slowed his pace so you could fall beside him, watching you silently for a moment as you continued “admiring” the white city you walked past. Only managing to talk after a moment of utter silence between the both of you. “I’m not hearing anything in regards to what I’m looking for.”

“Obviously,” you snap as you turn your head to meet his gaze, “you’re not going to hear anything on the busy streets, you have to talk to people, go inside taverns or talk to vendors. You need to be patient.”

“I don’t have time—”

“Which is exactly why you’re not as good of a fighter as you think you are, nor a good force user.” You counter before stopping by a stand of sweets, smiling down at the sweets you knew were imported from Naboo.

“Okay then teach me.” Poe commented as he stopped beside you. “You’re the best Jedi I know, you’ve always been good. Teach me.”

You chuckle and look at him to check if he was joking. “You’re….” You cut yourself off as he didn’t break into a laugh like you had, the serious expression on his face finally making your laugh die down and your smile to drop and a warm feeling to grow on your cheeks. “I dont—I can't use the force thanks to the injections your master makes me take. I can’t teach you. Plus even if I could. I-I you’re full dark side, that’s not my area of expertise.”

Poe gave a light chuckle and gave the vendor a couple credits before taking the bag of sweets off the table and picking your hand up off your side to carefully place the bag on your hand. Closing your fingers on the bag to secure your hold on it as you looked at him in slight bewilderment to what he asked. He offered you a smug smile before he continued, “I’m not asking you to turn me to a Jedi, I’m asking you to teach me some lessons on how to be a better force user and a better fighter. How to be patient. Snoke will only teach so much.”

Your cheeks burn hotter and you shake your head slightly, glancing down at his hand still on yours before you gently pull it away and sputter out your response. “I-I. You have Rey. She’s a good fighter and a great force user.” You move around him and continue walking down the street, maneuvering past the crowd of people and spotting Poe quickly catch up. “Ask her.”

“Anger isn’t the best teacher.” He commented, making your eyes snap to him, “she’s harsh, patient maybe, but not like you. Plus you’ve been taught by great force users. You know far more than her. Come on, just a lesson or two?”

You come to a full stop and turn to look at him, noticing how much more human he looked without his uniform on and in a white button up shirt; that was as you now noticed, slightly unbuttoned and exposing part of his sun kissed chest. His hair was a little bit more wild then his well styled and usual over gelled hairstyle in a manner, revealing the curls you knew he had. He looked almost kind and not as intimidating even with the scar on his face, he looked….and this is something you’ve noticed since you first met him, he looked—wait. Whoa. No. No. Ha. No. Ha.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat you blink a couple of times as you thought of the response you already knew. “Fine.” You breathe, “but just two lessons and you don’t get to be your usual uh, cocky self, or you know stubborn. You’re going to listen.”

Poe smiled smugly, “got it.” He met your gaze and smiled wider, making your cheeks grow warmer to the point you had to shove past him and pick up your pace to catch up with the rest of his group. Walking into a quieter part of the city, a side where it still looked as poor as the part you had just walked out of, but lonelier and not filled with vendors or as many people. There were people here and there, kids that looked like they had missed a meal or two, or a couple. People asking for money and some that looked like they were up to no good. Basically looking like a typical street worn out by the raging wars and the side they were trying to provide for. Usually sides like the First Order who were too busy with themselves to worry about what happened to the planets they promised peace and well being to.

It was usually planets like these that realized that they allied with the wrong side when it was getting too late. And it was the people with less who suffered most—you sigh and tear your eyes away from the people you passed to look ahead but speak to Poe who still insisted on walking beside you; “we’ll probably find a nice tavern or cantina close by that you can question shortly.”

“There.” Dario points out, “at the end of the street. A tavern.”

Your eyes follow to where he points and see the tavern he spoke of, spotting right away multiple people around the white tavern, some looking like the locals here and others just like passing people like you. Part of you...actually all of you dreaded walking and letting them question people. If their suspicions were true and the resistance was here to cut a deal with Lothal then nothing good was going to result in the fighters here, nor the ones at base, or the people here. But hopefully, they weren’t going to find anything and Poe would have to head back to the capital ship empty handed, with no harm caused to those resistance fighters.

“Remember ask, but let’s not make it too obvious. We want to know as much as we can.” Poe explained to his squadron, who nodded in agreement as you all neared the tavern. “If we’re too—” before he could finish his sentence, his words were abruptly cut off as a couple kids shoved past the both of you, all three kids looking back, but not at you, but at the people who followed and rushed past you with their guns out and shooting at them, laughing as the kids fell to the ground when three other people guns blocked their path ahead, leaving no room to escape or chance as the blasters were pointing at them.

“We’ll give you to three boys, return what you stole or you’ll pay for it with heavy consequences.” A large green sentient asked, grabbing a smaller boy off the ground and threatening him with the blaster on the side of his head, “one, two—”

Just before you could stop them, someone else you didn’t expect did so first, “hey! Leave the kid alone!” Your head snapped to the man standing beside you and watched his outburst with a widened gaze. “Leave them all alone.”

The green sentient dropped the kid and turned to face Poe with his gun instead, making those people beside him point their guns at Poe’s squadron who had their hands on the handle of their blasters, ready to protect and fight for their general. Before they could pull out their blasters, Poe put his hand out and signaled them to remain calm. While you continued watching and listening in shock.

“They stole from me!” The green sentient countered, “am I supposed to let filthy street rats like them get away? No. They get taught their lesson for stealing, so stay out of it scum.”

Poe narrowed his gaze and scoffed, eyeing the kids and things they had in their hands before glaring at the ugly sentient again. “You’ll kill them for a bag of bread? It seems to me like you could go without it. They’re just kids, leave them alone. I’ll pay for what they took and you’ll let them go without harm.”

The man chuckled, “you pay and I get my stuff back too.”

“Not how it works. I’ll pay only, you don’t take their food. Let them go.” Poe urged again, making the sentient laugh louder and for his people to do the same. And before they could shoot at Poe, said man pulled out your purple lightsaber and threatened them, making all of them halt and falter. Eyeing the purple blade pointed at their leader you supposed and Poe, all running off like cowards before the green one followed without anything he was offered. All while you watched in the same state as before.

Poe deactivated your lightsaber and hung it back on his side, approaching the kids with a soft and assuring look, crouching down to help the one that had been threatened before and offering his hand. The boy took it and offered Poe a thankful smile. While your shock dropped and you were left with a conflicted and almost soft look as you continued watching Poe’s surprising actions, hearing his words intently; “here, some money. Take it and use it wisely. No more stealing from people like them, okay?” He leaned in closer to the group of boys and whispered loudly with a smirk on his face, “or at least don’t get caught next time.”

The boys laughed and thanked Poe before running off, finally letting the crowd watching return to do their own thing again, causing you to fully realize what happened. What Poe did to save the kids he could’ve let get killed and ignored. But something he didn’t let happen. He didn’t question standing up to them. He-he acted like someone you didn’t know was there anymore. Like someone that left you speechless and view with a change and some sort of admiration. Think that there might be something there that he didn’t show in a long time, that you admired and liked before. That you liked now. A side of him that truly made you smile.

And before he could notice you staring at him in the soft, admiring way you did just now. You looked away and let him walk past you, following him into the Tavern without talking of what happened. Getting once again surprised that he was not gloating his heroic actions. Not like you wanted to ask either. You let it happen and let the topic go unspoken, instead focusing on the task they needed to do. Sitting down in silence in your own table and letting Poe’s squadron and him actually be discreet and smooth of their motives. Feeling ignored all by yourself, actually wishing Poe didn’t tell Finn to stay on the ship with Odette. At least then you’d have someone to talk to. All you had now was the sweets Poe had so nicely bought for you and a cute orange and black Loth-cat laying by the window you were near, taking in the last rays of sun before the grey clouds swallowed them and left only a grey and dark painted sky.

The loth-cat eyed you and you smiled, standing from your seat and walking near, taking out a piece of your snack and offering it. The cat tilted his head and sniffed the air, leaving the chance for you to raise your other hand and reach to pet its head. Only before you could touch its fur, the cat opened his jaw and bit your fingers, crawling back and growling at you.

“Ow! What the hell?!” You wince, pulling your hand back and lifting it to put it before you and see how red the tips of your fingers had gotten already. They weren’t bleeding, but it hurt a lot. “You little....Ow.”

“You disappoint me, Skywalker.” You hear Poe’s familiar voice say behind you, making you scoff and continue shaking your hand as if that were going to make the pain go away—Poe crouched down beside you and took your injured hand to examine it, offering you a teasing smile, “you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, it doesn’t hurt you.” You complain, glancing at your hand still in his before you once again pulled it away. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah, it’s like you said. Took some patience, but it happened.”

You remarked smugly, “told you.”

Poe answered with silence and pulled his gaze away to look at the Loth-cat still close by, pulling out some food pellets from the pocket in his shirt and extending his hand, waiting and coming out successful as the cat came and ate from his hand. Leaving you once again surprised—“you approached it abruptly, it probably thought you wanted to hurt it and attacked first.” Poe explains. You gasp softly at the cat still eating calmly and letting Poe pet its fur, looking at you once it was done and hissing at you before it crawled back—“here.” Poe says as he takes your hand again and pulls out more pellets. When did he get those? Who knew—“let them come to you.” He puts the pellets on your palm and leaves his hand under yours.

You turn to face him and remark, “if it bites me and I die, I’ll haunt you.”

Poe snorts and meets your gaze with a soft smile. A smile that made your cheeks begin to feel a warm sensation again and make you feel some sort of way you couldn’t quite make out. Whilst also making you look away before he could notice. Hearing his voice by your ear and getting a shiver down your spine; “okay, but I got you, it’s not going to hurt you.”

You hide your smile and look at the now defiant cat. Growing rather impatient. “It’s not coming.”

“Be patient.” He teased.

You glance at him and shoot him a pointed look. “Hilarious—” before you could finish your remark, the cat approached slowly and ate the food off your hand making you grin and turn to show Poe such a gesture. Almost as if this was the greatest achievement ever. Before the loth-cat could go away, you slowly reached your hand and pet its fur, the action making your grin wider. Even if it was a short encounter it made you feel happy, a feeling that had lacked as of late. Unbeknownst to you, a gesture Poe noticed, just like he noticed the glances and hidden smile you just made. Noticing as well that you let his hand touch yours. More than once. He didn’t comment on it however and let it happen a while longer before he stood up and helped you to your feet.

“Let’s go back, Finn is waiting for us.”

Your smile drops at the realization that you had to go back to the piece of sky trash and once again get locked in the room you wanted to get out of. All the illusion of the events of today slowly fell and a heavy feeling weighed down on your entire body. Making your steps slow and lack behind the group as you walked out of the tavern to see that Finn was literally waiting on the ship a few feet from here, floating a few inches off the ground—way to keep it lowkey.

Right as you were going to drag your feet towards the ship the sound of your name, or rather fake name you grew accustomed to came from someone familiar who wasn’t Poe, making you stop and look behind you. Noticing behind the cloud of dirt the ship made, a dark haired, brown eyed girl you knew from base. Mara. “Jaina?!”

Your breathing hitched and your eyes widened, noticing that more of the squadron you once commanded appeared behind her too. Making your heart race inside your chest as fear spiked through you. Mara pulled out her blaster after noticing the people you were with and pointed to Poe as he walked up behind you. He noticed. Of course he did and grabbed your arm, looking between you and Mara. Letting you fear for a second as he stopped and did nothing but grab your arm that he was going to kill them. Because you knew that he knew who they were, that they were the resistance fighters making a deal with Lothal.

But as the eternal and dreadful minute passed with him just standing and looking, he did nothing. Causing you to shake your head as Mara tried to walk towards you with her blaster raised. She didn’t want to understand at first and wanted to try and shoot Poe, but you shook your head again and mouthed “no”, shooting her glare to make her finally understand that she needed to stop.

“Come on, sweetheart let’s go.” Poe said as he pulled you with him, having Finn in his trooper suit help you on as Poe climbed on himself. Letting you as you stood firmly by the ramp look back and watch Mara with a watery gaze. Only, not because she really meant something, but because of what she represented, the people she was going to see that you missed and could only see by memories.

She called your fake name again, “Jaina!” And you ignored it, looking down as the ramp slowly closed and blocked out the image of her, blocked out what she represented. Leaving you to see nothing but a dark and empty wall.

——

Luke’s P.O.V

Luke’s lips parted at the sight of the silver and black hilt inside the small box. He didn’t know what to do or what to say, he was left speechless and surprised. He never thought he’d see the lightsaber that he once used ever again, he thought it was forever lost. But alas it wasn’t and it was here in front of him, calling him.

He moved his hands to pick up the hilt, exhaling a deep shaky and pent up breath he didn’t know he was holding in, stopping mere inches away the lightsaber and examining it for a moment. And once he moved again to pick it up, the hilt instantly felt familiar and yet heavy. He’d forgotten how heavy they really were; it had been so long since he’s picked one up. He remembers the same feelings had passed through him as he got it for the first time. Familiar and heavy. And just like the first time there was some amusement and content. He felt happy picking up the lightsaber that once belonged to his father, to have it back with him.

With that, Luke turned the saber in his hands and held it with one hand, turning it upright to activate it and see the blue blade emit from within, seeing as the blue hue engulfed the whole room in its light. The action, the scenery of everything being casted in the blue light making him smile, but not one that lasted long as suddenly everything around him changed. Suddenly he seemed to be looking outside transparisteel, spotting squadrons of stormtroopers all perfectly lined up, throwing their fists out at something their higher up said. And right as he was going to question his dark surroundings he heard a voice he recognized.

“What could you offer me?”

Luke turned quickly and his eyes widened at the sight of his daughter. “Y/N.” He tried to move forward to grab her, but he then noticed the tall, pale and thin sentient in his gold robes behind her, offering a wicked smile as he pointed out and spoke in a cold voice. “Everything. Have you heard of the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?” Luke gasped and tried to move forward again, bellowing out “no.” But as soon as he did, he stumbled forward and seemed to be transported into another room.

One where the almost blood red lights seemed to illuminate the path in the room. A room that sent shivers down his spine as he noticed the cold feeling, as he noticed the red drapes as his gaze slowly lifted, spotting in the middle of the red room, a circular metallic throne and someone sitting on it. Not the ugly sentient with the gold robes, but someone else, someone smaller than the sentient was, a woman it seemed, her face hidden under the hood of the contents of her black hood. Luke tried to move towards to see if he could identify her, wanting to see more than an elegant black ring on her finger and a lightsaber hilt in one hand.

But as he took a few steps forward, the woman lifted her head. Her face was still hidden, the only thing that he could see were her yellow-red eyes. He gasped and froze, hoping that it wasn’t his daughter, that the dark side hadn’t presusaded her. He hoped that she would be stronger, he couldn’t accept that it was her. He tried again to move more forward, but before he could take another step forward, he heard the familiar sound of a lightsaber ignited behind him, the soft hum as it stayed activated and casted yet a blue hue. As Luke was going to turn and identify the new mysterious person, he was brought back into another room. A dark one that was only lit by the lights of the silver and white stars outside yet another transparisteel. In front of the transparisteel was a girl on a couch looking out at the void of space.

Just as he was going to approach her, a door behind him sounded and someone called her name. “Y/N.” She turned and immediately a smile spread on her face, one that made a relieved look spread on Luke’s face. The man that called to her passed through Luke, causing him to notice a stormtrooper in a black uniform. Someone his daughter called Finn—just before anything else could be seen, all of it suddenly disappeared and he was back in the storage room from before in Takodana, hearing a voice he recognized as Master Obi-Wans and one that belonged to Master Yoda’s.

“Help her as you once helped your sister, Luke.”

“Take his first steps you will help him do.”

“But.” He tried to argue the last sentence. “Him? Help who?” And as always before his questions could be answered the voices were gone, leaving only the room basked in the blue light of his lightsaber and the sound of its hum to fill the room. He sighed and deactivated it just as the door swooshed open, revealing four people.

“You’ve found it, Luke. Your father's lightsaber.” Maz Kanata spoke in an almost amazed tone as she stood in front of Leia and Han. “It called to you like it called to you before.

“Did it come with your hand too Luke?” Han joked, grinning at his own joke, looking around to see if his family would laugh and frowning and muttering as they didn’t. “Chewbacca and Y/N would’ve laughed.”

Turning back on the topic in hand, Luke looked away from Han and looked back to Maz as she continued speaking. “Go help your daughter, Luke. I’ll try and see what I can do from here.”

Luke smiled, “thank you, Maz.” He then moved towards the door, making everyone walk out to leave the hall.

“May the force be with you. With all of you.”

——

“Ilum is just a couple hours away.” Han announced over his shoulder as the ship blasted into hyperspace. “Do you think she’s going to be there?”

Leia’s eyes drifted to Han’s figure sitting on the chair and she shot him a glare from her seat, one Luke knew how to identify the reasoning behind. And yes it was okay to talk about her, he wasn’t going to get mad over something as simple as talking about her. Not only that, but he was somewhat assured of her well-being from the visions he had; he might not know if they were old or new, but he had to take them as a piece of assurance.

“Maybe.” Luke answered, pulling Ben’s attention from his seat. “I saw a vision when I grabbed the lightsaber—”

“Was she alive?” Ben interrupted as he completely turned his seat to face Luke with a concerned look.

“As far as I could tell,” Luke responded, noticing Ben’s sigh as he leaned back in his seat and averted his gaze once again, only hearing what Luke had to say. “But I don’t know if she was in Ilum. In the vision I saw her looking out transparisteel, so she might still be on Snokes capital ship. But going to Ilum is still our best bet to know where in space the ship is.”

“What else did you see in your vision, Luke?” Leia asked, her brown eyes expressing the same exact concern Ben had only moments ago.

Luke blinked and looked down at the lightsaber in his hand, “her mostly. All except for one. One where I saw someone hidden under a dark hood and only showed eyes of a sith.” Hanging the lightsaber back on his side, his eyes slid back to Leia and he continued, “it’s what Master Yoda told me that has got me confused. He said I have to help someone take their first steps...but I don’t know who it might be. He didn’t tell me...like always.”

Leia smiled, “we’ll know with time.”

Just as Han was going to open his mouth to add a quip, a beeping sound came from the co-pilot's seat, followed by a blue hologram that sputtered out now that Luke tilted his head to see it had been Ben’s comm. The whole room silenced as soon as the imagery of a pretty woman with a thin face and curly hair showed and spoke with a thick accent. “Ben today while I came to Lothal I found something that reminded me of you, I—”

The imagery quickly cut off as Ben’s hand covered the comm with his hand; Said boy suddenly standing from his seat, showing his winded and surprised eyes before leaving the room without saying a word, leaving behind a silence that caused shared confused glances to pass around. Something that was broken as Han, Leia and Luke broke into laughter that echoed throughout the whole room and down the hall, bringing a happy and sweet reminder of how their own past once was.

——

“You know I thought years of flying would cause less crashes,” Luke complained with an added groan as he felt the soreness in his body from the crash landing Han had done as they arrived on the snow covered planet. “Guess not.”

Hans eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look at Luke with a narrowed gaze, “well why didn’t you fly, hot shot?” Han’s ego was only wounded more as Chewbacca added to the complaints with a compliment towards Luke’s flying. “It doesn’t matter if he blew up the Death Star!” Han remarks before turning to his wife, “Leia are you going to back me up here?”

Leia simply shrugged, causing Han to scoff and for his eyes to widen as he threw his arms up in over exaggerated disbelief. Something that brought silence to the group as their shoes crunched through the white blanket of snow that decorated the ground in a beautiful manner. The white sparkling snow that the sun rays danced on bringing a peacefulness that contrasted that of the ugly buildings that the first order invaded this planet with. An ugliness that spread as more and more of the First Order was shown the closer they got to the building they snuck through to get inside and finally feel some warmth on their bodies.

“Now where to?” Han asked as he basically threw his jacket off his body once the elevator doors opened, revealing just grey walls lined with white lights. Leia poked her head out the doors and kept her blaster raised as she looked from side to side down the halls. Gesturing for the group to follow her—which they all did without a second thought. All sneaking down the silent halls until she bumped into a pair of stormtroopers.

The white armored stormtroopers froze at first before they were smart to get their blasters out and speak on the current scene. “Hey! You’re not supposed to be here—” before they could finish, they were both flung to the wall on Luke’s left side, whilst one dropped to the ground as the other began to struggle for air. Luke looked over his shoulder to see Ben walking past him and slam the stormtrooper to the wall as he walked close to speak in an unfamiliar voice.

“I need something.”

——

“I still can’t see anything in this thing.” Luke complained as he moved the white helmet on his head slightly as they all snuck into a small room filled with computers.

“Insert the passcode.” Ben ordered sharply as he pointed the end of his lightsabers blade to the trembling stormtrooper. One who didn’t hesitate to do as commanded, making all the screens light up and causing Ben to hand the captured stormtrooper to Chewbacca as he began to search. Making Luke’s gaze narrow on the screen that blinked red as his daughter's name did not appear on any prisoner log, Ben typed again and again and nothing showed. It made Luke wonder only for a brief second if what he saw was wrong, but it was a fleeting second because he assured himself that she was alive. She had to.

And by the feelings Luke could now feel from Ben. The anger. The desperation. He needed her to be alive too. Why wouldn’t he? After all y/n and Jacen both gave him a chance when Luke doubted. The anchor Ben had to the lightside was hanging by a thread. Ready to break in half and be where he once was. Confused and afraid, tempted by the dark.

“Here.” Ben pointed out loudly, pointing to a picture of a man named Nomad. A man Luke recognized. Poe Dameron. “I found the tag of the ship they’re on. She’ll be in the same one.”

“Is that Poe Dameron? Shara and Kes’s kid?” Luke questioned as he kept studying the picture that was attached to the file.

Ben answered with a stiff nod, before the computers went off, “yes. He once was.” He answered bitterly—Luke blinked and he felt his eyebrows knot, he wanted to ask more, know more. He recognized the name “Nomad”. It was the name of the person who killed Jacen, but why was it attached to Poe Dameron? Why did Ben reference him in a past tense? Could he? Could he be the man under the mask? It wouldn’t make sense, he was best friends with Jacen, brothers basically. His parents were also both part of the rebel alliance...why would he turn against everything they went for? Was it their misfortunate deaths that sparked such a turn? The boy was an orphan at a young age, with both parents dead after the war. Was it because of their deaths? It couldn’t. Why?

Just as Luke was going to ask, an alarm blared around the room and echoed out in the hall, causing all heads to turn to the stormtrooper who’s one hand was under the desk, visibly trembling and fear spiking to the highest levels—“rebel scu—” just as the stormtrooper was going to finish his insult, Ben’s lightsaber impaled through its chest, instantly causing it to go limp and fall to the floor as Ben deactivated his blue lightsaber. Looking at the group with a silent look, moving past everyone to walk out of the door and see the red lights flash and shouts to be heard down halls, causing the group to hurry out the room and run towards where they had come from. Skidding to a stop to turn to another hall as a squadron surprised them.

Shots fired from the opposing team, just like they did from Leia, Han and Chewbacca. Shouts of commands to stop sounded too, but those were ignored and tuned out as the same beeping from Ben’s comm went off, sputtering out the same woman from before seconds later. This time looking more stressed than before and this time making Ben freeze as her words hit his ears.

“Ben! I just saw Jaina! I saw your sister.” She shouted urgently, causing Ben to gasp and grow visibly stiff, radiating off a feeling of relief but also fear and anger at her announcement.

“Where?” Ben urged.

“Lothal.” She replied quickly, her eyes drifting from Ben and something beyond her. “With….with The First Order. They have her. She went with them, but I know somethings wrong, she seemed wrong. I’m going after her...”

Ben turned to Luke with a glazed gaze, “it’s y/n. They have her. She’s alive.”

A/N- Now I know I know Kes is alive in canon, but for this story he is going to be dead just like Shara, okay? Okay....Sorry Poe :(

Tagged- @thescarletknight2014 , @softly-sad , @golden-guide , @abysshaven , @a-dorky-book-keeper , @kit-jpg , @mybarnesmyhero , @zoeyangels

(The ones in red it didn’t let me tag)

Permanent taglist- @ms-dont-care , @commondazy , @paintballkid711

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solohux · 5 years ago

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I have a strange prompt idea from a fic I wanted to write (but may not get around too): Hux works at Starkiller Magazine, a gossip type magazine where he absolutely despises his coworker Ben Solo. He finds Ben arrogant, self-centered, goofy, and his work to be just sub-par. However, Hux adores local black knight superhero Kylo Ren who always swoops in to save him from harm, and who makes him feel so safe flying in those big strong arms, if only Hux could figure out his secret identity!

Even without looking, Hux can feel Ben’s gaze upon him from across the office. The scruffy-looking man is laughing loudly with a co-worker, touching him on the shoulder as he cracks another joke. Hux growls quietly. Annoyed by Ben’s persistent choice to do as little work as possible but still be praised by their boss, Hux rolls his eyes, ignoring him, returning to his work at the printer and resisting the incredible urge to hurl the nearby office plant at Ben’s head.

What a brat. The son of a politician and a rogue cop, Ben Solo is the example of nepotism that grates against Hux’s psyche every moment of every day. Starkiller Magazine would be the most popular gossip magazine in the country if Hux were in charge but instead Resistance! magazine remains the most favoured: the company that employs Ben’s cousin as its Head Editor. The words ‘traitorous informant’ spring to Hux’s mind.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

The sound of his voice annoys Hux to no end; Ben even sounds arrogant. The man stands irritatingly close to Hux, staring at him with big, brown eyes through black-rimmed glasses, his dark hair tied up in a messy bun. As always, he’s holding a half-empty mug of black coffee and his white shirt is half-untucked from his black jeans. Hux, in his pristine navy suit, looks upon his co-worker with unreserved disgust.

“Not feeling chatty this morning, Hux?” Ben quips, following Hux when he collects his work from the printer and walks back over to his cubicle with Ben in tow. Whilst Hux sits, Ben leans on the short wall of the reporter’s booth, smiling devilishly. “Did you have a late night?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“Let me guess,” Ben pouts. “Chasing that Dark Knight of yours?”

“Kylo Ren answers to no one, so he certainly is not ‘mine.’”

“A bit old for chasing superheroes, aren’t you?” Ben leans over the wall and swipes a half-blurred photograph of said superhero from Hux’s pinboard, adjusting his glasses so he can analyse it. “He’s just a freak with telekinesis.”

Hux swipes the photo back, causing Ben to feign a paper cut. “He isn’t a freak. He was born psychic powers that he honed and trained for years when his family cast him aside for his supernatural gifts. He can read minds, he can move things with his own mind, he can fly.”

“So a clairvoyant superhero.”

“No. Kylo isn’t a superhero. He walks the fine line between order and chaos.”

“Ooooh,” Ben winks, pretending to fan himself with his hand, smirking. “Is that what gets your dick hard, Hux?”

“Fuck off, Solo.” Hux has heard enough. Reaching for his earphones, he settles them in place and delves into his work with Katy Perry serenading him. He glances up and sees that Ben is still here, lips moving and with just a hint of a smile on his lips but Hux points to his blasting earphones and shrugs, mouthing ‘can’t hear you’ to his annoying co-worker before going back to his computer.

When he next looks up, Ben is thankfully gone. Hux leans back in his chair, sighing, staring at the photograph of Kylo in all of his anti-hero glory, wondering where his beloved protector is now.

And as the day passes quickly, Hux thinks of nothing else but Kylo Ren, and it isn’t long before 11pm hits and Hux is standing on the roof garden of his apartment building, looking to the dark skies of New York City in the hopes of spotting his love before he crashes down to him.

It’s another ten minutes before Hux feels the winds change around him and he quickly stands from the garden chair to look around, desperate. Above him, a silhouette appears in front of the glowing moon, one strong and recognisable. Shivers run across Hux’s skin, making him pull his ice blue coat tightly around himself as he smiles, watching Kylo descend from the dark skies and onto the ledge of the building, standing proudly, looking something akin to a dark deity descending from the conquered heavens to Hux’s eyes.

Kylo’s outfit is entirely black. Leather trousers are tucked into sleek but heavy black boots, giving him an inch—or two—of extra height on top of his already-tall stature. His plain top has long, pleated sleeves but are mostly covered by the large, billowing black cape behind him, the item of attention. His beautiful dark hair cascades in waves upon his strong shoulders, stands blowing in the night breeze. How Hux wishes that Kylo’s face wasn’t hidden by a mask; he can only imagine the beauty that lies hidden underneath such a ghastly mask.

“You’re late,” Hux huffs, folding his arms.

Kylo floats down from the ledge and onto the ground, marching forward with confidence until he’s toe-to-toe with Hux.

“Forgive me for stopping a jewellery store fire,” Kylo retorts, his voice distorted by his mask. “I got the owner and his four children out before the smoke killed them.”

“What a hero,” Hux says, raising his eyebrows. He allows his hand to trail down Kylo’s strong chest, feeling his pecs underneath the tight material of his tunic.

Kylo is silent for a moment, reaching out to Hux with his palm open. A silver necklace with a heart-shaped diamond pendant floats from behind him and into his palm, hovering gently above his hand.

“Not quite a hero,” Kylo cocks his head. Hux imagines a gorgeous smile beneath the mask.

“Kylo, it’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you.” With a wiggle of his fingers, the necklace gets a life of its own and floats towards Hux, settling around his neck and fastening, resting upon the top of his coat and shining in the moonlight. Hux takes hold of it, overwhelmed with such a gift, and ignoring the situation in which it was obtained.

“Thank you, Kylo,” Hux smiles, stepping closer to Kylo to close the gap between them. He stares into the visor of the mask, realising that it isn’t fully opaque from this side and he can see a hint of brown eyes through it. He reaches up, cupping the cheek of the cold mask, staring into Kylo’s eyes. “Will I ever see your face?”

“Hux. You don’t understand the concept of a secret identity, do you?”

“I do,” Hux winds a piece of Kylo’s dark hair around his finger teasingly. “But what harm would it do if I saw your face?”

“So you can plaster it all over your gossip magazine?”

“You’ve read my articles. They’re…inquisitive. I’m intrigued by you. I want to know everything about you.”

Surprisingly, Kylo seems to pause and ponder over Hux’s words for a moment. The air remains electric between them, Hux’s heart is racing as he watches Kylo’s gloved hands rise up to unclip the front piece of his mask, letting the mouthpiece fall away to reveal a small portion of his face; pale skin and plump lips and a strong jaw. His eyes, nose, cheeks and forehead are all still hidden by half of his mask—but Hux knows what a big deal this is.

“This is all you’re getting,” Kylo says—and his voice is like warm honey, a deep symphony of delight to the ears.

But there’s something else. Hux cocks his head, swearing that Kylo’s real voice and not the one generated by the front of his mask is something he’s heard before. The deep, unique tone stirs something in Hux, as though his brain is telling him to be annoyed by the familiar voice but his heart is telling him to just delight in it.

“You sound like someone,” Hux says slowly, staring at Kylo’s plush lips.

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Your voice sounds familiar. Like someone from work—mmpphhh!”

The kiss is a little more forceful than Hux imagined it to be but it’s how he likes his kisses; with his partner dominating and touching him all over. Kylo’s hands may be on his hips but there’s no doubt that he’s using his telekinetic powers to simulate the touch of a half-a-dozen hands that roam around his ass and chest, even brushing through his hair and making him moan.

Thoughts of Kylo’s secret identity melt away from Hux’s mind—though whether it’s a result of his own conscious efforts or a little influence from Kylo himself, Hux doesn’t know.

All he knows now is that he can’t wait to tell that brat Ben that he’s kissed Kylo Ren, the city’s anti-hero.

Kylo smirks into the kiss.

#kylux #benarmie #modern au #superhero au #m:writing

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angels-heap · 4 years ago

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Okay hello I feel like you are Wise and Know things... it’s kind of hard to explain but is it wrong to just... Enjoy Things? With all the HL pisscourse going around it’s making me nervous about liking things like TF2 and missing something critical and huge in the media I consume and being labelled as a bad person for doing that. ESPECIALLY for liking characters like GLaDOS or Wheatley from Portal. I want to just Enjoy Things but there’s guilt tied to not being critical about every single detail

Thanks for reaching out, friend, and I’m so sorry to hear the current nonsense has you feeling this way. I have a hunch you’re not alone, and although I don’t claim to have all the answers here, I hope hearing my thoughts on this helps alleviate some of that guilt. This got long and I’m not putting it under a cut because it’s important.

The short answer to your question is no; it is not wrong to just enjoy things. You don’t have to constantly examine all your favorite media under a microscope and incessantly highlight or dwell on its faults to be a good person or a good consumer of media, and here are a few reasons why:

(CW for brief mentions of all the squicky/potentially triggering things that tend to come up in ship discourse conversations.)

1. It is virtually impossible to find a truly unproblematic piece of media.

And that’s okay! Media is both created and consumed by people, and people are notoriously imperfect and complex. Sometimes creators choose to explore dark or taboo themes that are always going to squick some people out, no matter how well (or poorly) they’re handled. Sometimes content creators are actually terrible people who deliberately try to perpetuate their messed-up ideas through media. Sometimes creators’ deeply internalized prejudices seep into a work in a way they may not even consciously realize. Sometimes consumers’ experiences or prejudices color the way they perceive a piece of media and may lead them to a very different interpretation than what the creators intended.

Point is, there are a lot of shades of gray here. We should always strive to do better as creators and consumers, but the goalposts for “perfection” are always moving.

There’s almost always going to be something about your favorite media—no matter how benign it is—that rubs some people the wrong way, or (perhaps unintentionally) perpetuates harmful stereotypes, or starts out okay but doesn’t age well down the line. Period. That’s an uncomfortable truth that we all have to sit with. But don’t despair, because…

2. It is still okay to engage with and enjoy media that you know is problematic. Even if it’s really problematic. For real. I promise. The media you consume does not determine your worth as a person.

Since you specifically mentioned Valve games, I’ll start out by clarifying that (as of July 2020), Valve games and their fandoms are pretty benign overall. Perhaps in the future, more of the humor will start to age poorly, or Valve will make some extremely questionable design choices with their next game, or Gabe Newell will be outed as a prolific serial killer, or whatever, but for now, there’s really nothing about Valve games that should make the average person go, “holy shit, you’re into that?!” when you bring them up in polite company. (And anyone who insinuates otherwise re: Half Life shipping discourse is either very confused about the definition of certain words or is maliciously trying to stir up controversy.)

That said, everyone has a different threshold for what they do and don’t want to see in media, and those boundaries are totally valid! But it is absolutely possible to enjoy even notably problematic media (e.g., Game of Thrones, the new Star Wars sequels, old movies where the directors were huge assholes to the female cast members, etc.) without being a bad person or a bad social justice activist. Instead of rambling about that at length, I’m going to link you to this excellent blog post on the subject.

The big takeaway here is that you can love a piece of media while also acknowledging its faults. In fact, I’d argue that a key part of loving something is being able to think critically about it and trying to hold its creators to a higher standard whenever possible. However, that doesn’t mean you have to be constantly analyzing it or prefacing every single public acknowledgment of your love for it with an “I know this is problematic and I swear, I just like it for XYZ” disclaimer, because…

3. Tumblr’s black-and-white thinking about media consumption is not healthy, “normal,” or (usually) present to the same degree in other virtual or real-world spaces.

I think most of the people on Tumblr who seem to be on a constant (and ultimately futile; see point 1) quest to find the One True Unproblematic Media have good intentions. I really do. And I applaud them for actively trying to understand and un-learn their own biases while becoming critical consumers of media.

Unfortunately, for a bunch of complicated reasons I still don’t totally understand and won’t get into here, some online communities tend to take these things to such an extreme that, in their quest to create a safe and/or inclusive environment, they actually end up creating an even more hostile one. To reference the recent drama again, nowhere is that more apparent than with “pro-ship” vs. “anti-ship” discourse.

Basically, “pro-shippers” believe that fiction is entirely separate from reality and therefore, “problematic” content (up to and including p*dophilia, inc*st, noncon, etc.) has just as much of a right to exist as any other content; this makes some sense on a purely intellectual level, but in the real world, obviously things are much more complicated than that. “Anti-shippers,” on the other hand, claim to be specifically against the aforementioned Big Three Bad Things in theory, but in practice, they’re basically the fandom purity police; they strive to criticize and shut down any media or fandom activity that could be even remotely construed as problematic, because they seem to have a (perhaps well-intentioned but ultimately misguided) perception that discussing anything “bad” in fiction will glorify/condone/promote it in real life and that all creators of “bad” fiction are inherently malicious. Often, they’re willing to twist definitions and jump through some very strange hoops to justify why something is “bad.”

The truth lies somewhere between those two extremes; fiction absolutely can (and does) impact reality, but not in such a clear-cut cause-and-effect way. People can see or read about dark/complicated/problematic things without condoning or enjoying them in real life, and conversely, people can dislike even relatively benign things without having to have an extreme, profound reason for feeling that way. People can also enjoy “bad” media while being fully conscious of what’s wrong with it and taking steps to ensure that it doesn’t negatively influence them, or they may lack the knowledge/context to understand why something is “bad” at first and change how they engage (or don’t engage) as they learn. There’s a lot more nuance to this issue than Tumblr is willing to acknowledge, and as a result, a lot of innocent people who just want to enjoy things in peace get sucked into some truly absurd drama that can be really hard to deal with. And that sucks. A lot.

So, TL;DR: Almost all media is at least a little problematic, but that’s okay, because the media you like does not determine whether or not you’re a good person. (And especially if your primary interests are Valve games... you’re good, mate. Seriously.)

The fact that you’re even asking me this question shows me that you’re being a thoughtful, responsible consumer of media, and that’s all anyone can reasonably ask of you without being a gigantic hypocrite—because whether they’ll admit it or not, everybody who’s perpetuating this discourse both on and offline likes something “problematic.” It’s impossible not to, unless you live under a rock and consume exactly zero media. Take care, and try not to let the discourse get to you! Go forth and enjoy things! (As always, my inbox is open for follow-up questions.)

ETA: Here’s another excellent tumblr post on this topic! And another one!

#asks #anon #fandom #ship discourse #sorry it took me so long to respond to this #I'm sure I left things out but here are some thoughts to get you started #long post

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hansenes · 4 years ago

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hi sexies ! my name is river , i’m a scorpio sun , gemini moon and sagittarius rising . i like witchy stuff bc it’s hot . i use they & them pronouns and idk i guess a fun fact about me , other than the fact that i ’ m really excited to be here is that … i like people , places , and things !

༉‧₊ ( hunter schafer , she & her , trans female ) ˚✧ holy shit , is that isla hansen coming out of sticky fingers ? yikes , i’ve heard a lot about the sophomore . apparently they’re twenty and are pretty ( + creative & - intense ) which totally screams leo . ugh , i hate those ! i heard that they’re studying fashion design and are really involved in ( cheerleading / drama club / pride ) . i don’t know if you remember , but they’re the one who caused the cheer pyramid to topple over at the homecoming game ! i’d watch out for them though because rumor has it they REDACTED … hopefully that info doesn’t get into the wrong hands .

STATISTICS .

full name : isla marie hansen .

nickname(s) : is

date of birth : july 27th , 2000

hometown : los angeles .

current location : south shore .

ethnicity : white ( english , scandinavian . )

nationality : american .

sexuality : queer .

religion : spiritual .

political affiliation : liberal .

occupation : student .

language(s) spoken : english , french , butchered danish .

accent : california , slight valley .

INFORMATION .

eve muller was born the sixth child , and only daughter of a super christian family ( kinda cultish , like amish vibes u kno ... ) long story short : her parents were crazy strict , and religious . never let eve live her life . when she got pregnant at seventeen , eve was kicked out of her home .

since the father didn ‘ t want to help raise his daughter , she packed her bags and moved to los angeles . homegirl struggled . a lot .

around the time when isla was three , while working as a waitress at a diner , eve met the love of her life : james hansen .

he was a man in his early 30 ‘ s whose family owns a prolific production company , and he himself had turned to directing movies . he fell in love deeply with eve , and having no children , saw isla as his own .

eve and james married when isla was seven , she was allowed to wear have her first custom made dress for the ocassion . james adopted her before she turned ten . she knows no other father , and sees his parents as her grandparents .

still , remembering what it was like to grow up restricted and confined by her parents and religion , eve always taught isla to be unapologetically herself , and to reach for the stars .

and so , she grew to be — a hot mess . her mother seeing every little mess she made as a sign of her “ being a free spirit “ , and she could never do anything wrong in james ‘ s eyes . she ‘ s THAT bitch . she leaves all her makeup out on the bathroom counter , the hair straightener plugged in . she ‘ ll do the dishes when she feels like it —- yanno ?

her family being big in the textile industry definitely influenced her passion for fashion , she started sewing at age 13 . she made her own junior , and senior prom dresses , and won best dressed as her senior title .

she ‘ s really a hopeless romantic . ( her mom and dad are so in love you know , she wants that ) she believes in the hollywood magic , and in finding her true love — a meet cute , and a rom - com ending . the problem is , she thinks all meets are cute .

she dates absolute assholes . and every time a relationship reaches it ‘ s predictable end , she will cry watching rom - coms , and swear off men over a tub of ice - cream .she ‘ ll show up two weeks later , giddily talking about some guy named chad .

.see , the thing is that either she believes in true love — or she does not know how to be alone .

more info coming soon !

CONNECTIONS :

best friend & roommate ( open ) : think late nights of facemasks and gossipping , borrowing eachothers clothes , stalking people on instagram , and unconditional support . her person .

close friends ( open ) : self explanatory . this people are her inner circle . people she ‘ s constantly hanging out with . people she spills the tea to .

friends ( open ) : people she also hangs out with , and spills the tea to — but maybe it ‘ s not as constant as with ;

party people / drinking buddies ( open ) : isla may not look like it , but she loves a nice cold beer , and a good chat as much as she loves a good party . this category could be people she goes for a drink with on a week night , or people she goes wild with on the weekends .

will they won ‘ t they ? ( open ) : since all of her relationships end , isla has decided to never date her friends . her friends’ friends ? valid , and so she lives in a flurry of chads — i ‘ m thinking these two are obviously attracted to eachother , and everybody sees it — except them . slow burn , friends to lovers kinda thing . ( message me for plotting )

enemies ( open ) : listen , it might not be like mortal enemies who will fight to their deaths , but isla is — a lot , and definitely not everyone ‘ s cup of tea . she ‘ s messy , loud , shallow , cocky , and self absorbed . a little conflict is always good .

#◞ 🛍️ * 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧 : intro .#southshore.intro #pick ME #choose ME #love ME

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

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Loser Like Me - Intern!Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X @crawlingmist @mandy23b @wltz-bby @happyskywhale #MendoTagSquad

Babe you’re platinum all the way

Author’s Note: Before we even begin - Mini Series for sure! Also I’ve never seen anyone do this before me, so here we are!

I know by now if you’ve been following this blog for any length of time you know how much I love this man. With my heart and soul. However - there’s a particular scene in the movie I just... really don’t like. It’s the Intern scene. I won’t go into a whole lot of detail, but it hits me deep on a personal level, and I hate that it’s played for laughs. I thought it needed some ‘rectifying’! And came up with this little series. 😊 I really hope you enjoy taking this journey with Nolan, as much as you have my others!

Disclaimer: RPO characters/storyline not mine / whilst following what they did with him in the movie, some of this will be influenced by Lacero (because of course it will!)

I wanted to write a quick note about his age! I headcanon every Mendo that does not have a canon age as the same age Ben was when the movie was shot. So... For RPO that’s about 46/47. Making Nolan 47 in 2045. The intern scene takes place in 2025. Making Nolan, as stated in the fic, 27.

Premise: Nolan Sorrento has a head full of dreams that he’s sure will be actioned by the OASIS creators any day now. But fetching coffee is all anyone at Gregarious Games thinks Nolan is good at. Lucky for him, you see things a little differently...

Words: 6397

Warnings: In general - people being douches to Interns. / swearing

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Yeah, you may think that I'm a zero But hey, everyone you wanna be Probably started off like me You may say that I'm a freak show But hey, give it just a little time I bet you're gonna change your mind

All of the dirt you've been throwin' my way It ain't so hard to take, that's right 'Cause I know one day you'll be screaming my name And I'll just look away, that's right

Push me up against the locker And hey, all I do is shake it off I'll get you back when I'm your boss I'm not thinkin' 'bout you haters 'Cause, hey, I could be a superstar I'll see you when you wash my car

Just go ahead and hate on me and run your mouth So everyone can hear Hit me with the worst you've got and knock me down Baby, I don't care Keep it up and soon enough you'll figure out You wanna be, You wanna be A loser like me

---

The alarm went off at 6:40am. As it did every day – but Nolan Sorrento was already half way ready, and had to skid out of the bathroom to snap it off, before any of his neighbours complained again. Sometimes he just couldn’t sleep – and he felt it probably wiser to just get up and get on. Sorrento’s head was full of ideas, ideas that he knew would help him make it big someday. Hopefully right here where he worked, at Gregarious Games… once he got a job that wasn’t an internship, that was. And - when he wasn’t fetching coffee, or running papers, or trying to book meeting rooms and call other people that worked around the company as requested by those higher up - Nolan would sit with his notebook and plot out what his future would look like, and the tech he would use to get there, whether it be available right now, just within reach, or something that one day he’d be at the forefront of making. He dreamed, because right now that was all he could do. Nolan had a job and that was enough to be thankful for, he had his life… which was more than could be said for some people. Sweeping back into the bathroom he studied himself in the mirror for a moment with a small sigh. He liked to give himself a daily pep-talk, because there wasn’t anyone else that was going to do that for him either. ‘Okay, Nolan, you got this. For real this time – they’ll ask you to fetch coffee and then you can walk in and be like… Guys! Your OASIS project – what about if you did this-!? How can they not love it? Maybe they’ll bump you to tech? Maybe they’ll make you a partner!’ It hadn’t worked out for him so far, but he could dream – maybe today was the day! He gave himself a firm nod, running his hand through his thick dark blonde hair to neaten it (at least the highlights were going to look good once he got into proper lighting!) and then dashed from the bathroom again; throwing a suit jacket on – that didn’t match his outfit but was good enough – he looped his pass around his neck, grabbed his keys and his satchel before heading out of the door. No time for breakfast, he’d think about that later! First things first; getting into the office. It was still nerve wreaking for him to walk up to that office with coffee; it used to give him shakes just thinking about maybe getting the coffee order wrong, but now he knew he had that down. Nolan knew that Gregarious Games was on the verge of something not just great, but phenomenal. People all around the company treated it’s two founders like Gods, and Nolan knew exactly why – he was doing the same. They were creating the seemingly impossible; giving people an escape from the hell that everyone was living. The longer he was here, the more Nolan gained confidence – Morrow at least knew his name now, and he was also privy to the fact that not everyone got to interact with these two as much as he did. It came to the point where he actually liked being asked to fetch coffee for them, because he’d get to try out a new idea. “-What about this-?” “Maybe later, Nolan, thanks for the coffee…” “But I really think the OASIS could just use-” “Thanks, Nolan. Really, but it’s a busy time.” “Well maybe-” “Nolan…” Then he had to walk from the room with a deep breath and try not to get so disheartened. No matter, there would always be tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that… on into infinity. But Sorrento smiled gently, one day he’d come up with something that would be so mind-blowing they would have to listen to him! And he was getting close, he was sure of it. With that thought, he jogged back down the stairs, confidence sky high. “Oh-! Nolan-!” He turned to the voice calling him, “Yes?” “Could you come help me with something… I’m not exactly sure what I’ve done wrong on this presentation… I just can’t fix it…” “Sure-!” “OH. And, whilst you’re at it, would you mind picking up my printing? Thanks, Nolan!” He blinked several times watching them walk away passed the printer, and then sighed again – well, he still had a ways to go yet…

Nolan was aware that there were people in this company who didn’t like him, that thought he was strange. The pop culture he consumed was obscure at best, or... not obscure enough at worst. Nolan liked the modern stuff, the early millennium. The remnants of Y2K... where everyone lost their heads thinking computers and clocks would all stop working. Apparently, that wasn’t highly valued, and everyone thought that the 80s was where it was at. Nolan wasn’t sure of that himself, and thought maybe most of them were just posturing because that was the era that Halliday and Morrow were obsessed with. It made sense; they’d grown up in that time. Nolan was just far more nostalgic for things he’d grown up with - than a time he didn’t even really know.

Other people he figured didn’t like him for other reasons, but he’d never quite got the opportunity to find out what those were. Only that it felt a lot like being shoved up against a high school locker again. And he was 27. There were a couple in particular that liked to get physical; only this time they decided to do it when he was carrying two full cups of coffee. “Whoops-” “Shit! Sorry-!” As if he sounded anywhere near it. “It’s okay though right, that’s your job, you can just make more.” If he wasn’t already on a time limit, “And clear that up whilst you’re at it.” “What do you get a full employee badge for making coffee anyway?” “Oh no-! You read that wrong mate, it’s just an intern one.” “Ah-! Not permanent then? Coffee can’t be that good-!” “Less permanent now-!!!” Nolan bit his lips together, because he knew what would happen if he retaliated, these two were full time employees that (probably) had way more important jobs than he did. He knew which one of them was more likely to be walked out of the door after a confrontation, and he needed this.

“Do you two assholes want to leave him the fuck alone-!?” They all turned, to an impatient looking woman standing with her arms crossed. And this would be a moment that, although he didn’t know it yet, would go down in history in Nolan Sorrento’s life. For this was the moment he met you. You could not have been glaring at them both harder - and felt that for the man stuck in the middle, it was pretty fortunate that you walked by. “Y-Y/N-!” “Don’t give me that, why don’t you go bother someone else-!?” “But he-!” “Is trying to get coffee from point A to point B, I didn’t realise Gregarious games hired children these days that would be such a hindrance. Why don’t you get back to your desks and do your jobs-!?” They didn’t dare argue with you – skulking off, although muttering profusely. And Nolan was nearly speechless, but also realised there was coffee all over the floor: “Ah-! Ahhh-! Shoot-!” “No, no, no...!!” You moved towards him, hands gently pushing him back to standing; “I got this, you go make them again...!” “No, no, I can’t leave you to-” “Nolan, it’s okay... I got this...” He stopped suddenly; now he would know if he’d seen you before. He would. Nolan was good with things like that. He opened his mouth, but you ushered him back towards the kitchen; “I’ll help in a moment, just let me do this!”

Sorrento didn’t know what else to do but wait for you in the kitchen, by now he probably could have gone outside and got a coffee order, but in you walked, throwing away whatever you’d used to tidy up the spillage. “Good thing I like the smell of coffee...” You wiped your hands and turned to him, with a gentle smile; “Sorry about those guys. They’re self-entitled assholes who shouldn’t have the jobs that they do. Alas, I am not a hiring manager... are you alright?” “Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You nodded, “I can see that.” “F-forgive me, Y/N...” that is what they’d called you, “but...” “Oh; I’ve heard all about you - Nolan Sorrento. And your ideas!” He looked away for a moment, aware that he was blushing, “But also that you make one hell of a cup of coffee...” that just made him blush harder. “You also do a little bit of work in my department, so I’ve seen you around. I could use a mind like yours, y’know? Maybe I’ll have to get you in for experience...” You nodded to the half-made coffee; “I’ll help, if you teach me how the boys upstairs like it.” “Oh... y-yeah sure...” Nolan moved aside as you crossed the kitchen, “What’s your department?” “Technology. So, they do all the ideas and spec and testing, and my team codes it. We also run all diagnostics on errors, though the less we see of those the better!” “Your team-!?” “I like manage like 2 people, it’s nothing.” But Nolan was staring at you like all his wildest dreams had come true. “...Wow. That’s... that’s incredible-!” “If I could get the right people in my team, it’d be more so...” You eyed him curiously, “And somehow you’re only an intern?” “I’ll take what I can get.” You giggled “Until one of the big plans comes off?” “Yeah I guess...” That faint shade of pink was back “I admire that.” “What?” “The confidence to tell Halliday and Morrow your thoughts. The imagination it takes to have ideas like that. It’s cutting edge stuff, Nolan. I couldn’t do that - I am more... the girl who executes the idea. And turns your dream into a virtual reality... but I don’t have such a knack for original content.” You gave him another sweet smile that had him turning quickly back to the coffee; “Now why don’t you teach me how to do this - and I’ll explain why it’s a little late.” “Y-yeah... lets... do that!” ***

Overall Nolan was pretty harmless, he kept himself to himself and did every task that was asked of him. You made a point of finding him to say hello, and chat to him for a few minutes every time you passed his desk. And you noticed that when you approached him he always looked quiet and subdued, but by the time you moved on he was joyful and animated and it always hurt you to have to move on. Still the smile on his face didn’t fade after that. He was full of endless enthusiasm, and more importantly than that – something you felt Gregarious aught to be paying attention to – he was hungry, if work didn’t come to him he’d seek it out, Nolan certainly wasn’t afraid of doing that. Every so often he’d be walking by with someone and you’d catch a snippet of another great idea that filled his head – but more often than not was met with “That’s great, Nolan, but…” You were amazed to see this didn’t deter him; sure he’d look disappointed, but he didn’t give up. Sorrento’s attitude and personality intrigued you, and one afternoon when he was leaving for another coffee run, you made a point of walking with him. That soon became habit, as did joining him for lunch. It didn’t win you a lot of friends, and more often than not you’d be asked ‘What the hell are you thinking!?’ ‘Yeah, Y/N! You actually have talent!’ ‘Nolan Sorrento is never gonna amount to anything. He’s pushing 30 and all he does is make coffee.’ You didn’t understand why, or how, anyone in this office could pick on him. And why everyone just let them get away with it. Your defence of him was ruthless. “He’s a fucking INTERN, not a coffee boy – oh my god! It’s about time someone actually taught him something about the business. Nolan’s got a head full of ideas and if no one else is gonna utilize him, I fucking will – because it only takes one job ad or someone to recognise what he has and he’ll be off to IOI!” “They can have him.” “You know what, screw all of you! When Nolan’s running this place and you’re all begging for jobs, I hope to God he remembers what you did to him.”

Nolan was wasted here. But you didn’t want him to be wasted here; he was at times a little too unconventional for your game makers, given his little corner of pop culture (not that he’d opened up to you a lot about that, but occasionally you got a glimpse of it by what he referenced and laughed at), or a little too ‘business’ for your co-founders - monetization was practically a curse word… Yet Nolan had a mix of talent that barely anyone else in this company did, and no one was giving him a chance to use it. Worse still to you – an Intern, who should be learning everything the business has to offer and be given every opportunity to get stuck into it, was doing not a lot more than fetching and filing paperwork. And sure, you were younger than him, but you wanted to take this into your own hands.

“Hey!” A smile was already present on his face before he looked up; “Hey!” “You busy today?” You folded your arms on top of his desk divider; Nolan looked a little shifty; suspicious of you for a minute. “I mean, I got plenty to be getting on with…” You gave a disappointed sigh; “Aw, see I really needed your help with something.” “…Really!?” He wasn’t about to hide that shock – Nolan hadn’t done anything directly tech related for your department before, and that was your exact remit. “Yeah, but if you-” “No, no!” He stood, “I’d love to help, that’s what I’m here for, right?” You couldn’t help yourself, and giggled, “Did you just become un-busy?” “…Yeah. Yes, I think so.” Nolan placed his hands in his pockets with a grin, and waited for you to tell him what to do; “Awesome, let me show you around tech central!” You beckoned him to walk with you, “And for the record, no, I was pretty sure intern meant you were also here to learn, and I’ll be damned if I don’t teach you something. How’s your coding?” “Not a strong suit.” “What did you study?” “Uh… Business and economics… just touching on computing as a minor… why?” You turned back to him very nearly shocked; “At College!?” “Uhm. Yes?” He’s a College grad and we have him paper pushing, my God, no one is ever hearing the end of this! But you just nodded, “What’s the dream Nolan?” He became bashful, looking away from your face for a moment, as if he didn’t dream – or as if every dream he’d been working for was suddenly stupid; “Uh. I…” “C’mon, everyone has one…” You touched his arm delicately, “Hand on heart, ten years from now, when you’re close to 40, where do you wanna be?” Sorrento looked a little affronted by your close to 40 remark but held his tongue; “Uh. I guess, I’d like to be in charge of a company like this one.” “Good man, right answer.” You swept him into another room – a neat row of 5 desks on one side, and one on the other – no barriers between you – the single desk was covered with paperwork; in the centre a flashing image, highlighting what various coding pieces were about to address in game. You indicated for him to sit at a desk in the row of five, and joined him. “And you?” “None of my dreams are really to do with work…” You shook your head, “I mean, sure I’d like a couple of promotions but I’m kinda okay where I am – as long as I still love what I’m doing. I’d just like to help people, you know? And the OASIS might help people… So,” you breathed, “I’d like to make people happy, and I don’t know how measurable that is, but I think I’d feel pretty good in ten years’ time if I managed that!” Nolan watched you for a second, and your gentle smile, and wondered if you’d even realised that for him at least you’d already completed that goal. Maybe he’d keep that back, for now – but he knew that in ten years’ time he wanted to look back on this moment with you and say “I was your first! You might not know, but it was me!” *** You set him a series of tasks and challenges and, as you did so, explained his way through them, who they were for and the effect that doing them would have on the business or the OASIS itself. Your team kept to themselves but you’d let them do that for now, the group was a little insular and he was an outsider right now, they’d warm to him; you worked with nice guys – not like the assholes who behaved like grade schoolers. Every so often, performing your own tasks, you would ping Nolan a calendar invite. “…What’s that?” He would ask you, and you would tell him “Oh! That’s a meeting with the Head of Marketing… Finance… Engineering… PR and Communications… HR…”, the list was endless – but if you had to create an intern program for him for yourself, you damn well would. You were a little more social and a little more pushy, so you knew you could get him working in all the teams and on projects that actually meant something – starting with your own, then he’d have something to show for it. All he needed was a little boost and a shot to his confidence and Nolan would be away; it was already obvious that he believed in his ideas enough – now you wanted to give him the knowledge to back it all up, and finally let him use what he already knew.

By the end of the first day Nolan was a little worried that he hadn’t finished all the tasks you had set, and as your team packed up and left for the night, he looked nervous. “Nolan, you okay?” “…I mean I… I still have a few things to do- I-I’ll finish them, I guess I might just be a little late.” You sighed; “Nolan, you’re an intern, honey – you don’t get paid overtime, just finish them tomorrow – It’s fine.” “…T…Tomorrow.” He swivelled his chair to you but didn’t dare look hopeful, “You want me back?” “Yes, of course I want you back, I told you I need you right now! With all that’s going on so close to launch we’re getting stretched pretty thin, and what better place for you to get stuck in than the midst of all this! I mean you’re getting coffee for ‘em, might as well get your line of code in the finished product too, right?” You stood, slipping your jacket on, “That desk is empty, by the way. I don’t really like the idea of you sitting alone out there…” Blush dusted his cheeks again, “You sure they won’t mind?” You scoffed; “Nolan, by the end of the first week they won’t even notice you didn’t sit there before today! Now come on! Go home!” You were right of course, and by day three your team of two were saying good morning to him, and asking how his evening had been. It took Nolan a little while to answer, because he just wasn’t used to it. By the end of the first week it was ’We’re just heading out for coffee, would either of you like anything-!?’ which you liked, because yes, someone should be asking him which coffee he wanted instead of him fetching it. And by the end of week two you were all sitting together at lunch, and when everyone took a five-minute break, Nolan got to participate in office banter and shit talking. “Guys! May I remind you that our office doesn’t have a door-!” “Oh come on, Y/N! You out of all of us are the one most likely to go off on these idiots!” Nolan turned to you, “You do have a tendency to come back from meetings, throw your notebook down and proceed to tell us how much you hate everyone.” “OHHH!!” The other two started howling with laugher, “OH! He’s got ya, Y/N!” “First off I hate all of you! Second, I also hate that you’re all right-!” But you liked this, and you already knew it was doing wonders for him. Sure, from time to time people would swing by and ask if they could take him off you for a second, and he did still do the infamous coffee run; but you let him go at his own discretion. What you were happy to see, was that his old desk started clearing, and Nolan’s files and notes, and everything he’d had on it managed to find its way into your little side room. That’s when coffee started appearing on your desk every morning. Nolan was always in before you, and had clearly expertly memorised your coffee order. At first you thought it was a simple and sweet one off, but it kept happening. Upon telling him he really didn’t have to do it for you, Nolan would smile and say; “Oh! It’s really the least I can do. After all, look at all you’ve already done for me…” Still, you became grateful to see the cups, and as you sat contentedly with them before you started the day you always noticed him beaming out of the corner of your eye; you only liked to pretend you didn’t. About three weeks into Nolan’s stint with you, the project you had him working on was nearing completion, and your intern was fretting about if you’d have him move. “Nolan, you don’t need to panic – you can still sit with us, there’ll still be plenty for you to do here. Besides like I say, once we finish this everyone is going to want to work with you anyway – and seen as you’ve had most of the introductions, there will be things from them to work on – so you can get your holistic business overview!” He’d been through most of the meetings that you’d set up – and as you suspected, some of them weren’t even aware there was an intern to give any work to, leaving the program entirely in your hands. Your boss didn’t seem to mind too much, and it wasn’t interfering with what you were doing otherwise. Eventually you just let Nolan get on with the meetings himself, and given his background all you seemed to gain from it was positive feedback. ‘He’s great!’ ‘I know. But tell him that!’ You thought he was ready for his big break; and breaks didn’t come much bigger than this one; “Hey, Nolan, you’re on first name basis’ with Halliday and Morrow right?” He raised an eyebrow curiously, “Yeah, I guess.” “I got a feeling you know this project pretty damn well by now.” The two in the corner turned to give positive affirmation to this statement. “Uh huh?” He tipped his head, intrigued as to where this might be going – although the looks on their faces told you they already knew; “How’d you like to help me present it to them next week?” ***

If this was the chance that he had been waiting for, then it was huge. Nolan didn’t show it, not on his face, nor in his stance. He was two steps ahead of you on the presentation but he always asked if what he’d done was okay, and everything you told him to add or take out he considered very carefully. “You didn’t have to do this all yourself, you know.” “I just wanted to take pressure off the team. I dunno, if one person works on it, I guess it also looks a little more polished.” You let him have that, and what he created in the end was one of the best presentations you’d ever seen. Using space effectively, but also very minimalist. “Slides don’t matter so long as you explain them, that’s the backing. You’re the draw.” “Someone paid attention in class-!” He beamed at your recognition, “Yeah. I did.” So it was no surprise to you that he presented well. Except Nolan didn’t just present well, he presented to Halliday and Morrow like a professional – and at every moment you got, you allowed yourself to simply be in awe of him. Where was this man when everyone else was being a total jerk? The different between Nolan now commanding the room, and the soft-spoken intern who liked to float his ideas around desperately when given even the smallest margin of opportunity was staggering – they were poles apart and even his smile was confident. If this was a technique Sorrento had perfected, he was damn good at it – but part of you wanted to steal a little of that confidence and inject it into his personality. The presentation ended, and you both took questions; the more technical they became the further you were in your element, and you got to close out by yourself. It would have all been perfect, had someone not thrown in a comment about Nolan finally talking about someone elses ideas. You decided to let it go just this once, because you probably couldn’t have been prouder of him. Nolan had done much the same to you as you had been doing to him when it was your turn to do the talking – and with all your focus elsewhere he couldn’t help but stare at you. He could do it for an elongated period of time when he was standing here; with the type of smile on his face that he assumed you only saw in really sappy old movies. At first he thought it was just nerves, you were kind and sweet and friendly and for the first time since Nolan had started he felt really included in Gregarious. That was before you dragged him into your team, and he knew that from this project alone – and the way you continually alluded to his work even through this presentation – that you were getting him all the exposure he would need. But it wasn’t just a nervous disposition, it wasn’t just because you saw him and what he was capable of, but you made him smile. Really smile. And that smile was on his face from the minute he set about getting ready for work, to late at night as he was falling into bed. Even just looking at you now Nolan consciously realised how much he did think about you – how much more you made him enjoy work. You’d done so much for him and he realised he wasn’t even sure the right way to go about thanking you. Still, Nolan wasn’t so sure he just wanted to thank you. Would you even be interested in being anything more than friends with him? – that just came with the risk of losing you completely. And for a second that hurt, because Nolan couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. Not even when he felt this strongly; saying anything jeopardised his happiness. Right now, he couldn’t afford that. Even if you said ‘just friends’ - surely things could never be the same… It made his question answering a little distracted, but then, even you seemed a little unfocused until you got into your stride; then his smile came back, and Nolan got to watch you do what you did best. *** You left the room and immediately punched the air “YES! YES! NOLAN! YOU DID IT!!!” You shook his arm, “Oh my god-! You were so good!” You were elated; not only had he been particularly commended on his effort, but several people in the room had already asked if he could help them in their areas. Nolan accepted them all, of course, because he knew as well as you did that once he had all the tools and proved himself, those ideas in his head were one step closer to being a reality. And then maybe Halliday and Morrow would finally put them to use in the OASIS. One step at a time Nolan – he breathed – you made it this far but you have a little while to go. Your dreams have to wait a little longer, but… she gets it, finally someone gets it! Nolan laughed nervously, “Yeah it… it was pretty great-! It felt good, for sure. And you were impeccable, I need to brush up on my technicalities.” “You’ll get there. But you-! Where did that come from? How do you even present like that!? You gotta teach me, I’m not a natural presenter at all.” Nolan wasn’t one for letting you compliment him without continuously fielding them back. You both had to compromise and take credit here-! “WHAT-!? No, no, you present really well… I just… I dunno I guess I kinda find standing up there and throwing a project out to a waiting world kinda… easy.” You couldn’t help but agree with him, thinking on it for a moment, maybe that’s why he was known so much for ideas around here. For the way Nolan would always pitch them; even though his personality would make him out to be a quiet wallflower who did as he was told. Your team were waiting for you when you got back, and seeing you both joking together made them look at one another with knowing smiles. They wondered if you even realised it yourselves yet. You’d been oblivious before, they’d seen it – but Nolan was positively swooning. Yet, you were giving off vibes like you were interested. They’d grabbed a spare packet of confetti from the last time one of the team had a birthday, and as you both entered the room laughing they were staring you down. “I feel like we don’t need to ask, but how did the presentation go-!?” “Well, really… REALLY well!” Nolan flashed a grin, causing them to give each other the same knowing look before laughing themselves and throwing confetti everywhere. “Congratulations-! We knew it!!” For a minute he looked at a loss and you were laughing, quickly explaining the significance of throwing confetti whenever anyone did a good job – although you also had black confetti tucked somewhere for a slightly more ironic version of the celebration. It just made things in the team a little more fun. “OH.” He said, as if he immediately understood and ‘of course how could it be anything else? Teams always do this!’ - but Nolan did smile. “I guess it’s back to it now, right?” “OH NO!” Sorrento also noted your team had their coats on, “You don’t think you’re getting away with just confetti – do ya Nolan-!? It’s celebration time-! We’re going to the BAR!” “Oh?” He wanted to say the bar wasn’t really him, that he was a one drink and go kinda guy, and that really he ought to be saving any money he made and not drinking it… But you were pulling your jacket on too and that made him torn. Again they turned to each other, and they almost wanted to lock the both of you in here until you figured it out yourselves, so they did the next best thing. “Well, you two come when you’re ready.” “Guys, it’s gonna take us like five seconds…” You scanned your emails quickly, but as nothing was urgent opted to sign off. “No, no! Take your time!” “Besides, you know how crowded it gets down at Campari’s, Y/N, we’ll get a table!” “First rounds on me!” You shook your head after them, and turned back to Nolan, tentatively pulling on his coat. “You know, you don’t have to come.” “No- I- It’s for us right, I feel like I should.” “Nolan, it’s alright, really – I’m not the greatest drinker, I’ll have one and head home. Okay, maybe I’ll get a round, it’s my team but… honestly, if bars aren’t your scene.” Nolan shook his head vigorously, blonde hair flying for a moment, meaning he had to scrape it back off his face, slight blush maintained; “No. I want to come. Maybe we can leave together and just have one, right?” “That’s good with me.” You smiled, “But trust me, you do not have to stay.” By the time you got outside they were long gone, and you debated for a moment calling a taxi, before you decided it was better to just walk it and use the exercise. “Man-! I forgot something-!” Nolan turned to you as you suddenly stood stock still on the pavement, “Do you wanna go back?” “No.” You shook your head turning to him, “I forgot to tell you something.” His face immediately turned puzzled, and he straightened before leaning slightly away from you; “What?” You took a deep breath, before beaming, “How proud I am of you. And what you’ve achieved. That I’m just… lucky to have a friend like you… really lucky. We’re pretty like-minded, but different enough for it to work. And I really like being with you Nolan, it makes me happy. I’m probably the happiest I’ve been in a long time and… relaxed and… wow… oh my god…” Your smile faded slowly and your eyes widened, you weren’t looking at his face, or in fact anything at all and you could forget about talking. All you’d succeeded in doing was confusing him; his heart did nothing but sink at the word friend, and for a minute Nolan decided he would have to accept defeat… But suddenly you were talking like him – like the way he felt about you – and it was pouring, until you stopped. Why had you stopped when there was so much more to say? Or Nolan hoped there was – but then did he dare even hope-!? He didn’t hold his breath. You pulled your eyes back to him, and suddenly everything made sense. EVERYTHING made sense, and maybe you were trying to repress it, or you didn’t want to see what you thought you saw. Perhaps you just thought it’d be inappropriate considering, and you didn’t want people thinking you were helping him because of your feelings – but because Nolan Sorrento was worth helping. Now you were standing on a street in the middle of Columbus, Ohio, staring at each other and one thing was clear to you; Nolan projected his feelings. But Nolan wasn’t acting on them. No matter.

You stepped forward, minimal gap though there was between you - because of the way you walked together, shoulders almost always brushing - closing instantly as you pulled him into you. Pushing up on your toes your lips touched his. Nolan froze – he wasn’t even sure of the way he should react. Well – in his head he knew plenty, hold you, pull you closer, kiss you back at the very least!, but his brain would not compute the actions to the rest of his body; he was shocked. Because this was really happening. Nolan could count the number of girlfriends he’d had on one hand, one finger even and it’d never been serious. He also didn’t need both hands to count the number of kisses he’d received – and if he was honest, how many of those were real? How many of them were dares the other party never really wanted to be involved with in the first place? Sorrento didn’t want to dwell on that, and closed his eyes, but if he didn’t do something you would let him go and all too soon. That thought compelled him to wind his arms around you. His kiss back was tentative, as he made sure that was okay to do, but you didn’t pull away from him – encouraged Nolan held you a little tighter. His stomach was full of butterflies and when he thought on it later, all his dreaming didn’t even come close to this feeling – more nervous and more confident than he’d ever been in his entire life. Part of him wanted to go back to his apartment, slam the door and scream in joy (perhaps not, though, that’d only have the neighbours threatening him again) – maybe he could just do that in his head. But right now, Nolan was holding you, and that was all that really mattered. You let each other go gently, both a little breathless, both a little blushy, and both with no idea what to say next. “N… Nolan?” “Yeah?” “I…” “I know…” but his voice pitched, “Me too.” You giggled, finally stealing a look back to his face; “But I meant it.” He nodded, blush rising, “I-I know that too. You said… everything I’ve… wanted to say.” You nodded along, and both of you laughed as conversation became silence once more. Nolan took a deep breath; “Let’s… uh… they, they’re probably waiting for us.” “Yeah. Yeah, good shout!” But as you continued to walk, this time Nolan held his hand out for yours, and felt elated as you took it, entwining your fingers with his. He knew he would have to take this one step at a time – but his confidence was suddenly sky high, and Nolan felt about ready to take on the world. You watched him walk for a moment, how he even seemed to hold himself better – strides giving him the look of a man on a mission. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Nolan Sorrento literally change in front of your eyes. You’d been in relationships before, and although that wasn’t what this was yet, you knew that you were in for a wild ride no matter where it headed. But one thing was for sure, you were going to give him the adorably sweet picture-perfect romance that he deserved.

--- Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! 😊💜

#Nolan Sorrento #Ben Mendelsohn #Ready Player One #Nolan Sorrento x Reader #There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #AMANDA - I can't unsee Cody Ko and this feels like cursed information!!#Special Shoutout to Amanda and Joss for the hair discussion!#150!!!#linzi writes #smol bean drabbles #Thank you Amanda for beta reading parts of this... All the way back in March!#Actually theres a lot of wisps of your ideas from our conversations in here...#It... it gets ropey in places but it's got a strong beginning and strong points SO...#Hopefully you enjoy the baby intern-!!#She's a little Lorena but it also feels like Lorena with the personalities flipped

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