#I can’t wait to see his face when the inquisitor gets mentioned

[biowho]

[imdoingaokay]

Romanced!DAI Companions and Advisors (+ Platonic!Vivienne) when The Inquisitor returns to Skyhold late

(A/N: Heyyyy guys... I've missed you :) This past few months have been awful for me... but I'm back... teeheehee

I think this is gonna be really niche so I feel a need to explain what I was thinking??? Basically, The Inquisitor has been on a mission for a while now and they're returning extremely late at night.

Apologies for the inaccurate lore stuff, I don't think hours exist in Dragon Age because they don't have clocks? Or they do??? I dunno man I got a final tomorrow and I don't know if I'm gonna pass

Just know that the whole reason I got inspired for this was because it was late and I was imagining Vivienne watching The Inquisitor come back and her wrapping her robe around her waist like a mom watching their grown child come home from a rave or something

Once again, no beta we die like men

And happy late dragon age day, love y'all)

TW: Mentions of death

Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Unable to sleep. He’s waiting, whittling at the griffon he keeps. He doesn’t want to sleep anways, who will greet his lover? The wind? No. He’ll stay up, just for a few minutes longer, he tells himself… But soon he finds himself whittling into the early hours of the morning. That’s when there’s a stir of the guards, the whispers, and alerts are quiet, as to not wake up the many souls sleeping, but the message is clear.

His love has returned. And he will wait by the gate, a grin on his face and sleepiness in his eyes. He greedily hopes his lover may wish to sleep a few hours before the rest of Skyhold truly awakens.

Cassandra: She’s in bed, but not sleeping, reading a book. She’s trying to sleep, but her anxieties are getting to her. Somehow, ever since she got the letter saying that her love was returning, she fears even more. Her mind is plagued with images of an assassinated Inquisitor on the way back to her. Maker! Why didn’t that fool just bring her? 

Just as she scoffs, she hears something of a commotion outside. She prays for a moment, the news is good, and she throws on her armor, knowing better than to leave her room without it, and rushes to the gate. This is where her fears are put to rest as she greets her lover, a relieved smile on her face. And it is with this her sleepiness finally settles in. after a quick word, she urges her lover to rest, with or without her. All that matters that they returned.

Cullen Rutherford: He hasn’t slept since his lover left. A few moments where he stares off into space, drifting off before yanking himself back into consciousness. So it feels normal for him as he scribbles away the missives on his desk, being sure to double check each one so he didn’t accidentally write something foolish in his sleep deprived state. Somehow, in this half-dead state of his, he can hear the murmuring of guards outside of his door, and one enters. 

The guard has been ordered to inform Cullen of when they see The Inquisitor, so when they enter, Cullen knows what it’s for. And somehow, the sleepiness Cullen once had disappears, replaced with a drive he always feels when his lover returns. He rushes down the battlement steps, sure to not seem too desperate to his men. And in his excitement, he quickly meets his lover halfway on the bridge. They may be on their horse, but Cullen will happily walk back with them, looking up at them like they hold his whole world in their hands. When his lover gets off their horse, however, that is when he embraces them, a chaste kiss pressed to their cheek. This is when he finally asks them to rest with him, as his exhaustion is coming to bite him in the ass.

Dorian Pavus: Dorian has lied to himself multiple times throughout the night. He lied to himself claiming he didn’t care if he was asleep when his amatus returned from their very dangerous mission. So he lays in his bed for hours, trying to sleep. And when he can’t? He lies to himself, coming up with some excuse as to why his mind will not rest. So he waits in the library, sipping a glass of wine while attempting to read nonchalantly. Of course, he seemingly can’t. So he decides to wait on the battlements, claiming he must need some fresh air. Even though he despises how cold it is that night. 

But, somehow, without meaning to, he notices the small group of people making their way across the bridge. And, without a reason at all, a huge weight is lifted off of Dorian’s shoulders. 

He lets out a sigh and returns to the warmth of the library, happy to wait for his lover to come to him. And when he does, only then does Dorian finally agree to go to sleep. 

Iron Bull: Doesn’t sleep, but this is because he knew his lover was coming back tonight. So he waits patiently in the tavern, a ear out and ready, waiting for murmurs of The Inquisitor’s return. And when he does hear, he happily shoots up from his chair and makes his way to the gate, happy to greet his lover.

Bull was only slightly worried to be away from his lover, he knew they could handle their mission without him, but still, who knows what could happen? But the news that The Inquisitor was coming back? That was enough to settle his nerves. But seeing… and feeling his lover in his arms? That is what truly relaxes him.

Josephine Montilyet: Josephine is the only one who is asleep, she was corralled to his bedroom by Leliana, who told Josephine that she would wake her up when The Inquisitor returned. True to her word, Leliana gently shook awake a sleepy Josephine who, wrapped in a robe, quickly made her way to the empty Great Hall. She situated herself onto Vivienne’s balcony. She happily watched her lover pass the gates a promptly made their way to her, greeting her with a gentle kiss, which Leliana thankfully turned away from. Afterwards she’s happy to lead her lover to bed, as the second the pair’s heads hit the pillow, the pass effortlessly into a dreamless sleep.

Sera: Sera’s mindlessly making arrows, her door is locked, as she grew tired of Cole trying to make his way into the room to encourage Sera to talk about her anxieties surrounding her Inky leaving without her. She doesn’t even know her lover has returned until she hears the door jiggle a bit before her lover’s voice calls, “Sera, I saw the light was on, are you awake?”

This is when Sera happily throws the door open and grabs her Inky and drags them inside her room, into her arms. The two were eventually found the next morning by a messenger, who reported The Inquisitor and Sera were fast asleep in a pile of various blankets and pillows.

Solas: Solas isn’t sleeping much either, somehow he can’t take his mind off of his vhenan. He completely understand why his lover would take another person on their adventure, potentially a different mage than him. But he worries when they’re away! And there’s not much to do in Skyhold when The Inquisitor is gone. Most servants and nobles steer clear from him. He busies himself painting the various frescos in the atrium. He’s just taken a break and decided to walk along the battlements, and that’s of course, when he sees his beloved. He’s happy to walk down the stairs of the battlements and meet his lover at the gate, awaiting them with open arms. He happily leads them away, whether to their bed in their room, where Solas will leave them to rest. Or if they prefer, they can spend a bit of time in the atrium alone, Solas would be happy to hear the stories of his vhenan’s journey. 

Varric Tethras: Varric is rotating between the tavern and The Great Hall. Ever since he first got the letter from his lover, happily informing him of their return, he’s only been more nervous. Like Cassandra, he fears the image of a truly tragic hero, beaten down on the way back to the arms of their lover. 

He thinks he’s been writing too much tragedy when he firsts gets that mental image

Nevertheless, he pushes through the night.

Eventually, he’s sitting at his usual spot near the fire, unhappily grumbling to himself, sounding like a real dwarf. His mind is racing, and he can’t seem to get the thoughts to stop. So, for one last time that evening, he walks out of the hall, preparing to return to the tavern for a drink and a song from Maryden. That’s when he sees his beloved standing by the gate, quietly talking with a solider who leads their horse away. They’ve returned and they’re safe, that’s all he needed to know.

When The Inquisitor finally catches a glimpse of their lover, all they see is a bright grin spread across his face.

Varric is happy to go along with whatever The Inquisitor wants, bed, a drink, a tale by the fire, he’s just relieved they’ve returned.

Vivienne: Vivienne lies to herself. The day that she hears The Inquisitor will be returning that evening, she nods and nonchalantly walks away. Yet she finds herself constantly checking the gate everytime there is movement in that direction. She has no idea why, however. Her friend, whom she doesn’t really call friend, is taking an awful long amount of time to just get back to Skyhold. 

She justifies her musings on The Inquisitor’s safety as rationally as she can. If The Inquisitor dies, Thedas will be lost. If The Inquisitor dies, her position in court may affected. If The Inquisitor dies, she will be sad-

That is what gives her pause. She straightens her back, hands quickly going to her face as if to smooth out her frown that was previously there, and then she turns on her heel and returns to her sofa. She attempts to swallow down her fear the entire day, but as the night swiftly covers Skyhold, she finds herself unable to sleep. The moons is high in the sky when she emerges from her room, robe tightly wrapped around her. She is sure not a single soul will see her in such a… vulnerable state. She quickly makes her way to the balcony again, and stays there for what feels like an entire age. But just as she gets ready to sigh and return to a sleepless night in her bed, she hears a disturbance coming from the gate. That is where she sees The Inquisitor, alive and perhaps wrapped in the arms of lover. And with a sigh of… relief? She quietly returns to her chambers. Never speaking of this again.

[rebelscums]

Love in Silence (Marrok x Ex Jedi reader)

Rating: Angst | Fluff

Summary: A powerful match.

1 year ago

“You wish for me to work with… Him?” I motioned to the tall dark figure.

His posture was tilted downwards to the left, as if he didn’t have a care in the world… It irked me.

But those were the first words I ever said in the presence of Marrok. I remember that clearly.

“The force has showed me the truth. I have seen it my padawan, you two would be more formidable together.” My master Baylan stood beside Shin.

I stared at the masked man who hasn’t even said a word. Why isn’t he saying anything?

“Wouldn’t Shin be a better fit?” I motioned to the girl who was like a sister to me. She raised her brow at me and I gave her a shrug.

“No. Shin still has much to learn about the ways of the force.” Baylan explained.

I crossed my arms as I turned away from the inquisitor, “You know I work better alone.”

“Yes and that is something we must fix.” Baylan sighed, “You must learn this for when you train your own padawan.”

“But Master-” I began to say something, but he cut me off with a raise of his hand.

“That is enough.” My master’s voice darkened and I knew then that I had to obey, “Do as I say, padawan.”

I bowed my head, “Yes master.”

“Shin come with me.” Baylan motioned for her to follow which she did, but not before passing by me with a smirk as if to say… Good luck.

I huffed as the door closed and my attention travel back to the inquisitor.

“Do you have anything to say?” I asked him with my arms crossed.

Silence.

I waved one of my hands about with an annoyed expression on my face, “Do you talk at all?”

Silence.

“Well this is going to be fun.” I sighed as I took a seat.

Just perfect…

Eight months later and I was still attached to the tall inquisitor. Nothing I seemed to do would make him leave. Not to mention the fact that it was like talking to a ship wall.

“This isn’t working!” I yelled, as I used the force to throw a boulder off a cliff.

We were on a planet as we waited for our next orders to free Morgan. It was filled with much crash and cliffs that overlooked a massive sea. It was away from any civilization which made it easier for me to throw boulders during my tantrums.

“You need to focus.” My master held in a sigh as he watched the two of us spar.

He’s been trying for months to make us fight as if we were one and yet the only thing we have managed to do is not slice each others heads off with our lightsabers.

“I am focused, but him!” I motioned to the cocky man who has not said one word to me for months, “He’s not following anything I’m telling him, he’s just doing his own thing! It’s… It’s frustrating!”

“To fight together is to follow each others movements. To know one another.”

“But I don’t know him! And he hasn’t said one word to me to even try to know me. And- and just look at him!” I motioned to the way he stood so nonchalant as if he had better things to do with his time.

Maybe he did, but I sure as the force didn’t care.

I groaned, “All I get from him is that cocky stance and brooding nature. What am I supposed to do with that?”

I glanced over at Shin who was trying not to laugh at my demise, but failed to hide the smirk on her face.

“I see you.” I glared at her to which her smirk grew.

Baylan shook his head, “I’m sending you both on a mission.”

“What?” I looked back towards our master, “A mission? But we’re not ready.”

“You need to find a way to work together before Morgan is freed or else we’ll have a bigger problem on our hands. Now.” Baylan pulled out his data pad, showing coordinates to a shipment yard on the world we’re currently on.

“I need you both to secure some parts for the ship. I’m sure you both can handle that.” Baylan raised an eyebrow.

“Yes master.” I said and this time I held in my sigh as I headed to my speeder.

“Try to keep up.” I muttered to Marrok as I hoped onto my speeder and took off.

I didn’t look back to see if he was, I could tell he was behind me as I felt his force signature.

I can’t believe I have to do a task as simple as this. I thought as I stopped behind a hill.

Over it was a shipment yard that were filled with workers from this planet.

“We’ll have to wait until night.” I spoke softly, before getting comfortable against the plushness of the grassy hill.

“I’d say we can talk about ourselves, but that would be a waste.” I muttered as I closed my eyes.

He didn’t respond of course, but I could hear the annoyance in his voice as he let out a huff. I could hear him make himself more comfortable a few feet away from me and I decided Now was a better time then any to take a nap.

A touch more gentler then I expected awoke me as I blinked back the heaviness of sleep. I looked up to find Marrok towering over me, his armor glinting in the moonlight.

“Are you going move?” I asked to which I received a shake of his head as he stood up and began to walk.

I followed the silent inquisitor as we made our way down to the shipment yard which was now relatively empty aside from a few security guards here and there.

“This is what we need. I’ll find these two parts and you find this one.” I handed him the data pad with the list, “You head that way and I’ll go this way. I’ll comm you when I’m done and if anything goes south, head back to the speeders.” I told him before walking off.

It was almost too easy finding the first part I needed and I was glad that it was small enough to shove into my back pack. Now the other part… The other one was safely tucked away behind a security building making it nearly impossible with the guards blocking its way.

Should I comm Marrok? I wondered, but immediately shook my head at the thought. I didn’t need him. I can do this on my own.

It seemed simply enough in my head. Sneak past the guards, grab the panel and make a quick break for it. Now I just need a distraction…

I looked around and found a grate. I used the force to lift it before sending it in a direction far enough from me. I could tell the guards took the bait as they immediately unholstered their blasters to check out the noise. I snuck by the moment their backs were turned and felt a rush through me when I grabbed the panel.

I did it!

Or so I thought I did…

A sharp pain in my gut had me dropping the panel as a young guard stood five feet away, his hands shaking vigorously as he stood there with a mixture of shock and fear.

“Nice… Shot.” I muttered as I fell to my knees.

I lifted my wrist up to my lips as I commed Marrok a simple command, “Run.”

“Don’t move!” The young guard yelled, “Who are you calling? Are there more of you?!”

I shook my head, “Just me kid.”

“I don’t believe you! We shoot thieves around here!” He yelled as he took a wobbly step towards me.

I motioned to my gut with a cringe, “I can see that. So why not finish the job?”

“I am!” He yelled and he seemed so certain of himself as he pointed the weapon at me again.

I closed my eyes and hoped that Marrok had gotten far away from here with at least one of the parts. Better one then nothing. I thought as I felt sadness flood through me. Of course this had to be the way I go instead of for something I believe in.

I waited for the final shot, but the sound was not what I expected as I heard a lightsaber ignite.

I opened my eyes to find Marrok killing the young guard in an easy motion before swiftly making his way to my side. He carefully picked me up in his arms and grabbed the panel before casually making his way out of the shipment yard. I could make out the bodies of a dozen guards as he walked by them without a care.

“I thought I told you to run.” I muttered as I began to feel the heavy weight of sleep take over me.

The last thing I heard from him was a rumble in his chest as he let out a deep, “Hm.”

Now

The ship was silent as we were being transported to a factory carrying a hyperdrive we will need. This will help us grateful in our attempt to build a spacecraft great enough to get us to Grand Admiral Thrawn. I leaned my head back against my seat as I tried to deal with the unsettling feeling in my gut.

I glanced over to my partner. To say that things have changed greatly in a year between us would be an understatement. After that night at the shipment yard where he risked his life to save mine… Something formed between us that brought us closer together. To say I was now attached to the silent inquisitor was absolutely true.

“Marrok…” I spoke his name, my tone growing much more gentler with him after these past few months.

I made sure to keep my voice low so that the droid pilot I call Lindt and Marrok’s battle droid wouldn’t pick up on our conversation as I waited for Marrok to respond.

The slight tilt of his head told me to continue.

I traced his helmet with my eyes, taking in details I have already memorized.

“Do you think we’re really going to find the… Grand Admiral Thrawn?” I whispered.

He didn’t give me an answer, but he listened and that was all I needed from him. I have since grown used to his silence and small hm’s as the days carried on. Before it had annoyed me to no end, but now… Now it has brought me an odd comfort in my life that I never thought I needed.

“I’m worried.” I continued as I turned my face from him to hide the guilt on my face at even speaking against my master and Morgan’s wishes.

But with him, I felt like I could tell him anything.

“I’m scared that we may be doing something wrong here… That the Grand Admiral is not supposed to be found.” I sighed as I closed my eyes, “I don’t know if my master can see the signs through the force and I know that I shouldn’t be questioning his wisdom, but I can’t help… But question all of this.”

A small part of me worried that he would stick his lightsaber through my chest and end me for good.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything…” I muttered sheepishly.

I was going to let the silence continue and pray silently to the force that hopefully he wouldn’t relay this to the others, but then…

I felt his gloved fingers dance across my arm before finding his hand found it’s rightful place in the palm of my hand and I knew from that touch he wouldn’t whisper what I said to any other soul.

The comforting squeeze of his hand brought a small smile to my face and a calmness that spread over my heart. I leaned my head on his shoulder as his thumb brushed against my hand.

“Thank you.” I murmured.

“We will be docking in one minute.” Lindt called out as he began our short descent.

“Thank you Lindt.” I said as I stood up, “I’ll go with you.” I told Marrok as I grabbed my lightsaber.

Except Marrok was already in front of me, gently stopping me with a placement of his hand on my shoulder.

“But what if something happens to you?” I asked worriedly, “How will we protect each other if we’re apart?”

He only shook his head and I knew that his order was final. We felt the motion of the ship dock, Marrok gently holding my waist to keep me steady.

My shoulders slumped in defeat, “I don’t want you to go alone… I want to be with you.” I muttered selfishly.

He gently placed his helmet against my forehead and I took a deep breath as another calm wave washed over me.

“Alright, but be safe and… Come back to me.” I stated, pressing a light kiss to his helmet.

A small hm could be heard from his modulator before he turned and descended the ship with one of his battle droids.

“I’ve been ordered to take us to a safe distance until Marrok is ready for pickup.” Lindt said.

“Alright.” I nodded as I took my seat once again.

I closed my eyes and felt his signature through the force, praying that everything will go smoothly… Minutes that turned into an hour passed and my growing anxiety to get to Marrok grew as I waited for the blinking light of the comms to signal he was done.

“It shouldn’t be too long now, right Lindt?” I asked the pilot droid.

“By my calculations, everything should be ready in about ten minutes.” Lindt stated.

I nodded my head with a sigh of relief. That didn’t sound so bad. I could wait for that…

But then I felt something different in the force and I knew then that there was a Jedi present.

“Something’s wrong. We need to get to Marrok now.” I told Lindt.

“But I was ordered to-” Lindt began to say, but I spoke over him.

“I don’t care. I’m telling you right now we have to go.” I urged and I was grateful when Lindt took off, flying the ship to the meeting point.

All I could feel was intense anxiety and fear as the ramp opened to find Marrok battling against a Jedi… Not just any Jedi, but Ahsoka Tano.

I urged him through the force to stop fighting and get on the ship and I was grateful when he did because knowing him… He would fight until his death and that was something I did not want to see.

I grabbed onto him the moment he stepped onto the ship as I looked him over. I could see him staring out at Ahsoka. I turned to the Jedi and watched as Marrok summoned his lightsaber towards us, something that Ahsoka easily dodged.

“I’ve only heard stories about her. She is powerful.” I murmured as I turned away from her to check for any wounds, “Are you alright?”

He nodded his head once and I let out a sigh of relief when I saw he had not been harmed. He held his own against a powerful Jedi and that my chest fill up with pride.

I placed my hand on the side of his helmet, tilting his head down to look at me, “You did well.” I spoke with a softly smile as I felt his fingers graze along my sides, “But I’m not leaving you alone again. Like Master Baylan said, we are more formidable together.”

Who would have thought my master would be right?

[x-reader-things]

“You’re our son—” (Spider-Man AU - part 3)

Part One ; Part Two

Ezra Bridger x gn!Reader

Summary ; In which Hera tells you both the plan of action.

Requested? ; No! Part three of the AU that I talked about in my last post- :DDD

Warnings ; mention of Kanan’s master Depa Billaba getting killed. Also not much of a warning, but found family things w / Hera, specifically- <33333

Word Count ; 1.3k

——————————————————————

The explanation was small, and straight to the point. After a couple years of living with the Ghost Crew, Ezra figured out that long winded explanations wasn’t the best route to go down when talking with Hera.

He and Kanan heard from police scanners that ‘The Inquisitor’ was at it again, terrorizing others on a subway train for whatever cause he was trying to pull them into (something something ‘Empire’ or whatever. Ezra didn’t pay too much attention). The both of them swung their way over, got to the subway station just before the train went off on its way, and swung in just in time.

And just before the police got to them too, thankfully. They really don’t appreciate a vigilante when they see one. Luckily, Hera had some pull to help them out of trouble.

While Kanan was busy getting citizens in the subway car, Ezra was busy fighting ‘The Inquisitor’ on his own for the first time.

Bad decision, because he ended up getting thrown onto one of the seats, and his mask got ripped off, which revealed his identity to the ‘Big Bad’ he was fighting. Not that The Inquisitor knew his name, but he definitely knew his face now.

And now yours, too.

Because you were right there, unbeknownst to both heroes and the villain. Hidden in that corner, shielding yourself and your groceries with only your school bag. And you visibly and verbally reacted when you saw what happened.

It doesn’t even take an idiot to realize that you knew who Ezra was once the mask was taken off. Especially when said idiot was The Inquisitor. Which was a no bueno with Kanan and his rules.

After all, he lost his teacher - the only motherly and parental figure he had - Depa Billaba, because something similar happened to him years ago. He never really explained what happened to Ezra. All Ezra knew was that a lot of people were killed that day because of it. Including her.

Kanan could never live it down in the slightest, because of that. He wanted Ezra to always be careful with his mask when going out in the city as another Spider-Man, just in case.

Which, in turn, probably made this situation a lot worse, the more Ezra thought about it.

Hera hummed, mouth pressing into a thin line once Ezra finished his explanation. “Ok… that makes this, well, a little bit more difficult than I thought.”, she said thoughtfully.

She placed the warm ceramic cup down onto the table, and sat up fully. “But, that doesn’t mean this can’t be fixed.”

“Y/n”, she said, turning to you. “You’re gonna have to lay low here for a little while, ok?”

“Wait - what?”, you furrowed your brows, looking at all the grocery bags on the table in front of you. “What about these? Or - or my parents? Or school??”

“We‘ll have that covered, kiddo, don’t worry.”, she smiled at you. “I’ll have Sabine and Zeb drop them off later on today, and we can call up your parents to explain the situation. I work as a consultant for the police, and this house is a designated safe house just in case for situations like these. We have a guest room you can stay inc and You and Ezra can still go to school. You just have to be driven there instead.”

“But the—“ Hera cut you off again.

“I know, I know, the traffic sucks.”, she pointed a thumb to the rooms behind her. “Kanan and I know our way around the city on the roads. So does Sabine, if we can’t drive you guys. It’ll be fine.”

The smile she gave you was one full of sincerity and hope. It was… oddly calming, to say the least. Then again, she always had that effect on you. And Ezra (not that he would ever admit that to Hera herself though. You, however, are a different story).

You took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. It calms you down, before the rush-in of loud thoughts could make their way into your head again. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.

You’ve had sleepovers there before, anyways. It’ll be just like those. Just… a really long winded one, until The Inquisitor is off your’s and Ezra’s tail.

“As for you, Ezra Bridger”, Hera continued once again, her voice taking on a sterner lilt. “No going out as Spider-Man with Kanan for a while. Not until we have the situation with The Inquisitor under control, alright? Do you understand me?”

“What?”, now it was his turn to question the decision made. “Oh, c’mon Hera, it was one slip-up—“

“One slip-up that could easily get you and your best friend either hurt or in danger, or - hell - even both”, she told him, gesturing to the both of you. Her tone grew more serious, more urgent the more she went on. “Kanan and I aren’t willing to risk it, Ezra. Your our son—“

Ezra’s eyes subtly went wider. The amount of conviction in Hera’s voice struck a chord in him, one that he sometimes forgets he has.

Family.

The concept is still so new to him, even if it’s been a few years.

“—much like how Sabine’s our daughter. And Y/n may not be apart of this family, but we care about them just as much as you do. We need you both to be safe. This is the best course of action we’re able to do right now, alright?”

Ezra sighed, shoulders visibly deflating. Hera was right; you both knew that. It was the best course of action, and there wasn’t much either of you could say about it. Not right now, at least.

And it’s not like he minded being out on house arrest either. Especially if it was with you. It could be fun, if things went smooth enough.

Hopefully.

“Alright”, he agreed, albeit a hint of reluctance still hung on to the edge of his words. “If this is the best course of action to keep us safe then… I guess it’s fine. Right?”

He looked to you.

“Right.”, You gave a reassuring nod, brows furrowing upwards afterward for a moment in a silent question. He nodded back at you, reassurance there and clear as day for you this time.

Hera’s face softened up, a small and relieved smile turning the corners of her mouth up. “Good. It’s settled then. I’ll go get Sabine and Zeb to grab the groceries and bring them to your parents, Y/n. In the meantime… think about dinner.”

She stood up from her seat, bringing the cup of coffee with her. “Usually it would be my turn to choose what to have tonight, but I’ll leave that decision with you”, she raised her cup in your direction. “After all, it was this bucket-heads fault for getting your into this mess.”

She lightly flicked Ezra’s ear. He let out an indignant noise, and brought a hand up to his ear, staring at Hera with a look of utter betrayal.

“Hey!”, he exclaimed, pouting a little bit. “What was that for?”

“You know why, Ezra.”, Hera gave him a pointed look, and turned back towards the kitchen. On her way, she glanced back at you again. “Think about what you want for dinner, sweetie. It can be anything you want.”

You smiled brightly at the thought. Hera chuckled fondly at the sight, and opened the door to the kitchen, closing it behind her once she stepped over the threshold.

Ezra slowly turned back to you, his hand still rubbing his ear. Flick or not. Hera’s strength stung.

“Soo… what’re you thinking about for dinner?”, he asked you. The casualness of it all made you both fall right back into the usual comfortability, as if nothing big happened between you two, or the family in the house you were in.

The bright smile you had stayed clear as day, only enhanced by the setting sun blaring through the blinds behind you.

“How does Chinese food sound?”, you asked, leaning your forearms against the table.

Ezra always thought sunsets were beautiful. This one was just as lovely.

“Sounds perfect.”

His own smile radiated back at you, like the glare of the moon reflected back to the sun.

[twinsunstars]

Discussing the new “Ahsoka” Trailer

As of today, a new trailer for the Ahsoka series was dropped, as the date for the premiere is coming soon. I am so excited for the series, and very happy that we are getting two episodes on the first day. I think some people have already seen this trailer because I heard that some of it was played at Celebration only for the eyes of attendees, and some people had already seen footage of Thrawn in live action. Let’s dive into an analysis of the new footage. 

We know Morgan Elsbeth (Diana Lee Inosanto) from The Mandalorian, but as fans have seen in the teaser trailer of Ahsoka, she had briefly appeared, despite being defeated by Ahsoka in The Mandalorian. She appears to be working with the inquisitors Baylan Skoll (the late Ray Stevenson) and Shin Hati (Ivanna Sakhno), as the duo was seen going around and attacking rebels, searching for something. The three are looking for Grand Admiral Thrawn himself, wishing for something in return. 

Hera Syndulla (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) is seen fighting with the well-known shuttle part of the the Ghost, the Phantom II, along with her trusted droid Chopper, but she is also seen talking to some kind of council, with Mon Mothma (Genevieve O'Reilly) right in the middle of it. Hera clearly does not want another war starting, as she most likely helped finish off the war with the Empire. She definitely wants a life free from all the fighting, a life where her son Jacen Syndulla can live freely with no Empire there to affect his life. I hope we get to see some footage of Jacen soon, at least a small clip.

We get new footage of Sabine Wren (Natasha Liu Bordizzo), as she speaks more to Ahsoka. The way she called Ahsoka “Master” intrigues me. Why did she call her that? There’s something we don’t know yet, and I can’t wait to find out what. Sabine is still definitely the same, as Hera suggests Sabine to Ahsoka for help.

In a scene, Ahsoka is talking to Hera about her old life with Anakin Skywalker, when she was once his padawan. Hera listens, probably talking to Ahsoka and trying to get her to go to Sabine. There’s definitely some things that happened before the end of the Star Wars: Rebels finale, right before Sabine leaves to go with Ahsoka to find Ezra. 

Speaking of the beloved Ezra Bridger (Eman Esfandi), we finally get to hear his voice in live-action. Sabine listens to a recorded hologram of him, missing him more than ever. Ezra is saying, “As a Jedi, sometimes you have to make the decision no one else can, but I’m counting on you to see this through.” He’s counting on her to come find him. Sabine is ready to go, as she kneels down and cuts the hair she grew out. There is a similarity in the way she cut her hair, as Kanan had knelt down and gave himself a haircut before going off to save Hera. The parallel here makes me want to sob.

Ahsoka compliments Sabine’s new haircut right when she came to pick her up and set off to find Ezra. Sabine visits the mural she painted of the family, which was seen during the finale of Star Wars: Rebels. She taps Ezra’s face gently, missing him. Sabine is ready to get out again and find Ezra, as he is waiting for her somewhere out there. 

I think some people have already seen this before the new trailer came out today, but this is the first time I’m seeing Thrawn’s live-action face. I am excited that his voice actor, Lars Mikkelsen, is getting to play hm in live action. As much as I am excited for Ezra’s return, I’m very excited for Thrawn’s return as well. 

We see Sabine face off with Shin, fighting with Ezra’s lightsaber in hand. She knows how to wield one from her experience of training and wielding the Darksaber, and she is doing well with Ezra’s. 

Baylan faces off with Ahsoka, mentioning Anakin. This hints that Baylan used to know Anakin, and then he was probably a Jedi in the Order. We will get more information about him in the series, and Ahsoka’s fight with Baylan will be worth seeing. 

Hera joins the fight, most likely wanting to help find Ezra too and help Sabine and Ahsoka face this new threat. She won’t stand for another war, so she will do anything to end it before it begins. 

There is no information on who this Inquisitor is that Ahsoka is facing off with, but I have heard some people coming up with theories that this is Ezra. I don’t really think it is, but I am also scared to think that this is Ezra. Who knows what happened during the time he was gone. If it ends up being him, then something happened that made him change to this side.

There are many more answers we need to find out with this new footage, and the Ahsoka series will have all of those answers, along with the returns fans have anticipated for so long. I hope Zeb and Kallus also show up in the series, and we get a mention of Kanan.

Ahsoka premieres August 23, 2023 with two episodes on Disney+.

[fandomscombine]

Period Cravings

BG: Periods can be a pain. Food cravings are usually the easiest to handle. But with Hogwarts under curfew and not willing risk it all for the blood quill what could you do? Looks like someone had go above and beyond to help.

A/N: Why did I decide to write something about food in the middle of the night, it’s like I wanted to make myself crave on purpose!

This is an entry to @blisfvll ‘s 1.5 celebration writing challenge! With the following prompts:

14. “I swear to God I’ll punch you.” “You can’t even reach my shoulder.”

15. “I don’t know if I wanna kill you or kiss you.”

WC:1223.

>>MASTERLIST<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

You don’t normally get period cramps you are very thankful for, but of course when it does come, it hurts like hell. Luckily Madam Pomfrey has a supply of menstrual pain-relieving potions available for those in need. Which you had taken after dinner. Although now sitting in front the common room fire, you had another problem. Cravings. Which magic unlikely could not fix. Oh what you would do for a plate of a hot chocolate lava cake topped with cold vanilla ice cream!  A glance to the clock- 9:55 pm- had killed whatever small hope of getting that sweet treat from the kitchens. It was almost curfew.

The last of the students were arriving back, deflated like always after Umbridge had become High Inquisitor and held Hogwarts with an iron grip.

‘If you keep making that face y/n, your brows are gonna be permanently sewn together.’ Fred remarked.

Which only made you scowled further.

‘Sorry Sorry!’ Fred raised his arms in surrender. ‘I bet you would still look cute even when your face ultimately stays mad.’

Did he just called you cute?- Well no exactly but also could he be? You thought but before your brain could process if his teasing had something behind it, your body reacted first. Next thing you know, you had hit his arm.

‘Ouch woman! You hit hard!’

‘Well these chaser arms do pay off even outside of quidditch.’ You knew Fred only tried to cheer you up. He always does, when he sees you down or anyone for that matter and would crack jokes to brighten the day.

Placing your hand on his arm as to lessen the pain you begin, ‘I’m sorry. You were just trying to make me feel better and I released all this crap onto you.’

‘Heyyy heyy it’s okay.’ Fred said, pulling you for an embrace, ‘Take it out on me all you want, I can take it. Anything for you.’

Breaking away he continues, ‘What’s got you bitter anyway?’ Genuine concern in his eyes.

You looked away. ‘Ahh it’s so stupid- It’s nothing really.’

‘I am Fred fucking Weasley, I do stupid things all the time. Try me.’

‘I want a hot plate of lava cake with ice cream.’

‘Say what now?’ Fred stated, a bit confused.

‘I would die for some lava cake and ice cream right now.’ You stated with a deadpanned face.

‘This craving is driving me insane!’ You explained. ‘Normally I would just sneak out to the kitchens but now with the threat of getting my hand scarred with the blood quill, it is a no go. No way am I risking that just for a period craving. I wouldn’t even wish the blood quill to a bully.’

‘yeah yeh….’ Fred mumbled, lost in his own thought.

Waving a hand in front of his face ‘Freddie are you even lis—’

Fred abruptly stood up. ‘I—I got to go y/n. I forgot something in the—’ Running out of the common room, the rest of his sentence cut off by the closing of the door.

~

An hour later, right before you were getting ready for bed. Your roommate had come in giggling, ‘Y/n! Good you’re still up. Fred is downstairs waiting for you by the way.’

Waiting for me? What could this boy be up to now??

But you nod anyway. ‘Thanks y/f/n. I’ll be right down.’ You put on your fluffy slippers and make your way down to the common room.

You first caught sight of Fred pacing, making your way closer to the communal study tables you then saw it. ‘WHAT THE-‘you exclaimed.

‘Surprise!’ Fred said with handing presenting the table full of desserts- Chocolate frogs, cauldron cakes, hot butterbeer and the showstopper plate of a hot chocolate lava cake topped with cold vanilla ice cream!  

‘As you can see, I have also added a couple more stuff, which I noticed Ginny and Mum eat during you know the time of the month, been told that those help ease the pain and cravings. And Ohh! I also have these…’ Fred handed you more stuff from the chair. ‘Heating pads and a couple of potions from Madam Pomfrey- though she was a bit annoyed and worried that I asked her for them so close to curfew…and’ His cheeks blushed. ‘after all that she calmed down cause she said that I was being the most caring boyfriend and knew that we would make a great couple…’ Fred chuckled nervously.  

Seeing that you haven’t said anything, yet he continued hoping to salvage anything after that boyfriend/girlfriend comment, ‘apparently quite a number of teachers are shipping us together, some even have bets!’ He tried to sound nonchalant but failed. ‘Can you believe?’

Alternating from him, the food on the table and the heating pad and potions in your hand. You brain is going a hundred miles an hour.

On one hand, this is just wow, never had you felt so taken cared of before- and securely this surpasses best friend territory, right? Fred had gone above and beyond. This was some boyfriend material stuff right here. But what if you’re just overthinking and reading too between the lines y/n? What if you just want to see what you want to see.  But your thoughts keep going back to the boyfriend quality worry, the going above and beyond.  And he did mention that relationship comment right? He didn’t seem to take offence at the idea….

On the other hand, your own worry had taken over. What he had done for you was so risky, he could have been caught. If he had he would have suffered and have scars on his hand, all because of you and you could live with that. How could he be so reckless? – Wait why are you even still saying this to yourself…

You broke off your internal monologue. ‘WHAT THE FUCK FRED?!??? YES FREDDIE THIS IS ALL SO SWEET AND I REALLY DO APPRECIATE IT BUT WHAT IF YOU HAD BEEN CAUGHT?? YOU WOULD HAVE SUFFERED AND BE PUNISHED BY THE BLOOD QUILL!! HOW COULD YOU BE SO RECKLESS?!?’ Your anger from worry had slowed now, you looked up to him with soft eyes. ‘You did this all for me. If something bad had happen to you, it would because of me, and I don’t think I could live with that Freddie.’

Fred had always been able to see through you, and to see you so anxious for his safety warms his heart. He tucks the hair that had fallen out during you rant. ‘But you see love, I wasn’t caught. Reckless- Yes. But caught? Nope. Maybe I should try that again….to test my skills.’ He teased.

You glared at him. ‘You. Will. Not. Or else, I swear to God I’ll punch you.’

‘You can’t even reach my shoulder.’ Fred resorted. ‘You know… you are so cute when you’re frustrated.’

‘Ughh!’ Rolling your eyes. ‘I don’t know if I wanna kill you or kiss you.’

‘Rather kiss me more, I hope.’ He smirked. Then got serious., he held your waist. ‘But I wanna do it properly and take you out on a date first.’

You brought your hands up to the nape of his neck and started to play with his hair. ‘Well then let’s us consider this as our first date!’

---

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

(omg I just noticed that tumblr tagged a different account 😳that have a similar username, just a letter off😳 this is why sometimes I don't trust tumblr's automatic tagging system! @blisfvll my bad😅)

[official-weasley]

Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 7

WARNINGS: absolutely nothing except Umbridge

Chapter 7 - Bill's Birthday Present

Dear Eric,

thank you for sending me a birthday present a week earlier – it was a nice surprise as always! Of course, Fred, George, and I already ate all the candy you sent me but that scarf is stunning and will come in handy as it’s currently snowing outside.

Your present got me all excited about my birthday. I know Fred and George are planning something because they are constantly giggling and whispering when they think I’m not paying attention. I will officially be an adult in the Muggle world. I am not sure what to do with that information but I can’t wait either way!

I admire you for having faith that our mother will stop pushing me to be more like you. You asked if she had a change of heart yet about the shop and the answer is no. She doesn’t want to hear about it and when I mentioned it when I was home for Christmas, her face got all screwed up and green as if she’s going to vomit.

I appreciate that you are trying to persuade her to give me a chance but since I have given up hope a long time ago, you don’t have to waste energy on it either.

Oh, and speaking about the shop! Fred and George think we might have finally found the right place! It’s in Diagon Alley, which is perfect if I say so myself because Diagon Alley doesn’t have a joke shop yet and I reckon that will be great for business.

I haven’t seen it yet. Fred and George went there during Christmas break. They said that it would need quite a lot of work but they think it’s going to pay off! We are going to go and talk to the owner during Easter break to arrange matters further. We don’t want to get too excited – we still have to graduate and pass our N.E.W.T.s. Mum would have my head if I don’t finish school, can you imagine!

I would like you to know that I am still keeping our family legacy of Filch pranking alive! As I told you before, he is the perfect test subject for our products and since we perfected the Screaming Yo-yo over the summer, the twins and I couldn’t resist throwing one into his office while he was asleep. I wish you could be there when he started screaming. He ran into the hallway and actually said to me that I was just like my brother – disobedient and good for nothing.

I think that might just have been the sweetest thing Mr. Filch has ever said to me! Can you believe he remembers you?

However, I wish I could say that Mr. Filch is our biggest concern these days. That Umbridge woman has completely lost her mind. DADA has never been so boring and we keep getting detention! But we have it easy, you should have seen what she’s done to Harry! She’s mental that one. Hermione told me that she made him write lines because he is lying that You-Know-Who is back.

Who would ever lie about something like that? The Ministry is losing it and I am glad that you are in the USA and not here to witness this nonsense.

Ms. Pink Lady Toad keeps creating rules that just don’t make any sense. We can barely whisper in the hallways now. A couple was snogging on a bench on the second floor the other day and she not only pulled them apart but gave them a month’s worth of detention. A MONTH!

Anyway, there might be some light at the end of the tunnel. There’s a reason I asked you to send me that advanced spellbook you used for your Auror training. Harry is recruiting people to start some sort of a defense class. Godric knows that Umbridge isn’t going to teach us anything and he is taking matters into his own hands!

Hermione made us these coins to know when our next meeting. Fred and George can’t wait and we all know it’s going to be better than any class.

I have to go now, I have DADA in 15 minutes and I have to send this letter to you before I go in case I die of boredom in that class.

Thank you again for the birthday present and for supporting me in what I want to do with my life – it means the world to me.

I miss you and know that I can’t wait to see you over the summer!

Love and a big hug, Theo

PS. I remembered that you mentioned that you have an annoying co-worker in one of your previous letters so I am sending you a bag of Invisibility Powder. It’s a product Freddie and I developed. You mix it in someone’s drink and their hair is going to turn invisible for 3 days making them look as if they were bald. Have fun with it and reminisce on your mischief days!

—

“Late again, Miss Cork.” Professor Umbridge said sluggishly when Theodora entered the classroom.

“I apologize, professor. I was in the Owlery, sending a letter.” Theodora bowed her head and went to sit next to George.

“A letter?” A hollow laugh escaped Umbridge’s mouth. “And who might you be writing to?”

“I think that is none of your business,” Fred said through his teeth.

“That’s professor to you, Mr. Weasley. I am Hogwarts High Inquisitor and I have the power to make it my business to know who the students are writing to.” The professor stepped closer to where Fred was sitting, her head slightly tilted to the side.

“I was wr-”

Theodora had nothing to hide so she just wanted to get the attention off her by telling Umbridge who the letter was for but George’s hand over her mouth stopped her.

“You don’t have to tell her anything,” George whispered to her.

“Oh, but she does.” Umbridge’s lips curved into an evil grin and Theodora knew what was coming. “Perhaps we should establish a new rule. No letters in or out without me knowing about them.”

“Are you mental?” Fred stood up.

“That's privacy invasion!” George followed.

“Sit down the both of you!” Umbridge glared at them until they did what they were told.

“She’s right to be concerned, you know.” Theodora turned to George, with a mischievous expression on her face.

She knew what she was about to say next will get her in detention but she didn’t care. She simply had no energy to listen to Umbridge trying to boss people around.

“Elaborate, Miss Cork.” Umbridge cleared her throat.

“I was writing a letter to one of my confidants in America. We are forming an alliance with them against the Dark Lord.” Theodora smirked.

If she wanted information that had nothing to do with her, might as well lie about it and make her furious.

“How dare you!” Umbridge turned as pink as the bow around her neck. “What is wrong with you students?” She furrowed her brows and started walking towards Theodora’s desk, slowly. “How many times do I have to say that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not back?!”

“And how many times do we have to tell you that he is?” Fred rolled his eyes and slammed a book against his head.

All Gryffindors started to laugh, while Slytherins made faces of disgust and shock.

“That’s enough!” The professor hit the floor with a loud thump of her foot.

Silence filled the classroom.

“Would you like detention again, Mr. Weasley?”

“Gladly!” Fred hissed at her. “At least it won’t be as boring as this class!”

Umbridge and a few Slytherins gasped.

“A month, Mr. Weasley! Starting in this classroom, tonight at 7!” She said, shaking.

Fred shrugged his shoulders, put his book in his bag, glanced at George and Theodora, and started towards the door.

Exchanging one look, George and Theodora stood up as well and followed Fred.

“And where do you think you are all going?” Umbridge questioned them.

“You already gave detention to my brother, so I see no point for him to stick around and we always serve detention together so you’ll be seeing both of us tonight, professor,” Fred replied.

“And I am joining them because this class is as dull as they get and without Mr. and Mr. Weasley I might just die of boredom in your class. Honestly, professor, I fear for my life.” Theodora said sarcastically, making Fred and George giggle.

George put his arm around Theodora’s shoulders and without saying another word, they left the classroom, leaving professor Umbridge speechless and with her mouth opened.

—

“I still can’t believe you went after me,” George whispered to his two friends, the second Umbridge left the classroom during their detention.

“What else were we supposed to do, I hate that woman.” Theodora frowned.

“We have to come up with something and get her out of this school.” Fred thought out loud.

“That would do everyone a favor.” Theodora rubbed her chin. “But what?”

“I don’t know yet but it’s never too late to start brainstorming,” Fred smirked while the other two nodded in agreement.

“So, Theo,” George prodded her, “your birthday’s in a week. What are your plans?”

“I don’t have plans.” Theodora chuckled.

“Good.” Fred clapped. “I mean, whatever.”

“Right, as if I don’t know that you two are up to something.” Theodora lifted an eyebrow at her best friends.

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t.” George sent her a wink.

“18 is a big one! You’ll be able...you’ll...wait what are you allowed to do when you turn 18?” Fred asked puzzled as he couldn’t come up with a single thing.

“In the Wizarding world nothing much since we come of age at 17 but in the Muggle world she will finally be a grown-up.” George giggled.

“A grown-up? She will have to mature for that.” Fred joked.

Theodora pursed her lips playfully and smacked them both over the head, then joined them in a fit of laughter.

Their faces straightened and they went back to writing lines when they heard Umbridge coming back, pressing their lips together hard, not to continue laughing.

—

“What do you think you’re doing?” Fred sat down next to Theodora, almost making her spit out her porridge – startling her.

“The last time I checked it’s called eating?” Theodora blinked at him.

“I mean, running away from us like that. Don’t you think we don’t know what day it is today?” Fred explained his question.

“I didn’t run away.” Theodora laughed. “I woke up, saw that you two weren’t in the common room yet, and went down for breakfast.”

“Sounds like running to me, what do you think, Georgie?” Fred’s eyes turned from Theodora to his brother who was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” George said with a smug expression on his face.

“Then I would like to deeply, from the bottom of my heart, apologize to you,” Theodora said in a dramatic voice, placing her hands over her chest.

“Apology accepted.” Fred grinned.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” George stood up, climbed across the table, and sat on Theodora’s other side, “happy birthday, Theo.”

The twins kissed Theodora’s cheeks – one on each side – and hugged her.

“Thank you.” Theodora giggled with a hand over her mouth.

“You’ll get your present after the Quidditch practice,” Fred said excitedly.

“Please tell me, we are not pranking anyone today?” Theodora pleaded.

“Nothing of the sorts, we promise.” George smiled innocently.

Before Theodora could ask more about her present an owl dropped a letter in her lap. George got up and crawled under the table to sit back on the other side, while Fred sat a bit away from her so she could read the letter in private.

Theodora wondered who the letter could be from. She already received her gift and birthday letter from Eric. He was always afraid that it wouldn’t arrive in time so he sent it a week in advance every year.

She knew she couldn’t expect anything from her mother. It would be a miracle if she would even remember that it’s her daughter’s birthday. The last time she heard her mother say ‘happy birthday’ to her was when Eric was still at school.

She opened the envelope and took out the neatly folded piece of parchment. Before she could fully unfold it, she saw the name signed below the message. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened.

She folded the letter back up – without reading it – and put it back in its envelope. She never expected to get a letter from this person and she most certainly knew she can’t read its content in front of the twins.

The letter was from Bill.

“Who’s the letter from?” George asked upon seeing Theodora’s flustered expression.

“It’s...uhm...it’s from Eric.” She mumbled knowing they won’t ask further questions if it’s concerning him.

“Do you always blush when you get a letter from your brother? Because that’s concerning.” Fred raised his eyebrows at his best friend.

“No...I...” The red on Theodora’s cheeks deepened. “I think I just got my period.” She blurted out and stood up.

She couldn’t get out of the Great Hall fast enough. She knew that the twins won’t buy her lie about her getting her period. They knew when she was grumpy and need to give her space and that’s not happening for another 2 weeks.

She also couldn’t deny that the curiosity about why Bill sent her a letter was growing in her chest with each minute.

She hurried up the stairs to the second floor – where better to have a private moment than in Myrtle’s bathroom?

She double-checked if she was alone, besides sobbing Myrtle in the second bathroom stall.

She put the toilet lid down and sat on it. She took the letter out of the inner pocket of her robes and stared at the envelope, her hands shaking.

She would be lying if she said that she forgot all about Bill and the time they spent together during the summer. She was hoping she will stop thinking about him once she returned to Hogwarts but wasn’t so lucky – she missed him.

After that disastrous day of them being locked in the broom closet together, they didn’t say another word to each other until Bill’s departure to Egypt when they said an awkward goodbye.

Bill was mostly in his room and once Fred and George apologized to her for the 10th time for what they have done and she asked them to never talk to Bill about her again, she convinced them to work on their products even more than before so they barely left the room.

It was January now and even though she still sometimes couldn’t sleep – thinking about him – she was certain that Bill forgot she ever existed. The letter in her hands proved her wrong and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

She didn’t see much of the letter in the Great Hall but she could swear she saw the word birthday written down. She didn’t know that Bill knew when her birthday was.

She took a deep breath and took the parchment out of the envelope. She closed her eyes and unfolded the paper – perhaps that way she’ll get more courage to read it.

She opened one of her eyes, the other still closed, pretending she wasn’t dying to read what Bill wrote to her.

Dear Theodora,

I hope this letter arrives in time. If my calculations are correct, you should receive it with owl post in the morning on your special day.

I know this is short but a longer letter and a gift will be waiting for you on your bed after your Quidditch practice today.

Happy birthday, Theodora.

Bill

Theodora was staring at a letter as if it was a death threat – all color left her face and she forgot how to breathe. She can’t be reading this correctly, Bill didn’t just send her a letter telling her he has a gift for her?

She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, opened her eyes back up, and reread the letter 5 more times. She wasn’t losing her mind, this letter was real. Her chest was falling and rising fast, her heart drumming loudly against her ribcage.

She knew she wasn’t over him but the way she was feeling – the anticipation of seeing what Bill got her – proved just how strong her feelings still were.

Another deep breath.

She has to calm down. It’s just a letter and just a small gift. She can’t afford to overthink this. They became really good friends over the summer so he sent her a little something – as a friend. That’s all, so she has to calm down.

“Oh, a letter from a boy.”

Theodora jumped in the air, hearing a voice behind her.

“Don’t you know it’s not nice to read a letter behind someone’s shoulder, Myrtle?” Theodora said with a shaky voice. “What got you all agitated and annoyed?” Myrtle felt offended.

“Never you mind, Myrtle.” Theodora put the letter back in the envelope and put it inside her bag.

“Where are you going?” Myrtle questioned when Theodora exited the stall and headed toward the exit door.

“I have Quidditch practice.”

“But I thought we were going to talk about boys.” Myrtle cried.

“No, thank you.” Theodora tried not to look terrified of that idea and rushed out of the bathroom.

—

“Cork, what is it with you today! Don’t you know how to score!” Angelina Johnson shouted across the Quidditch pitch.

“Sorry, I’ll try harder!” Theodora yelled back and sighed.

She couldn’t concentrate at practice at all. She was mad with herself for not waiting to open Bill’s letter after she got back to her dormitory. All she could think about was the fact that he wrote to her, that he remembered it was her birthday and that lingering question in the back of her mind why...why did he send her a gift?

“Give her a break, Angie. It’s her birthday.” Fred flew to Angelina and sent her a wink.

“And she’s on her period.” George appeared on Angelina’s other side.

“You didn’t just tell me that, George.” Angelina pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath before flying away from them.

“What? What did I say?” George turned to his brother.

“Girls.” Fred shrugged.

“Okay, team! Let’s try this again before we all become snowballs.” Angelina said to her teammates.

Theodora frowned and positioned herself next to Katie Bell, who was shaking on her broom. Playing Quidditch while it was snowing sucked. Theodora just wanted it to be over so she could go take a shower and crawl into her bed. She didn’t feel like celebrating her birthday at all. She hated that she couldn’t kill the curiosity in her head – the never-stopping question of what is waiting for her in her dormitory.

“You okay?” Fred whispered to Theodora once the practice was over.

“I just wasn’t feeling it and I don’t like flying in the snow. My fingers are freezing.” It wasn’t the whole truth but she wasn’t lying either.

“You’ll get warm soon enough.” George giggled.

“Okay, the practice is over. Are you going to tell me now what your big surprise is?” Theodora raised her eyebrows.

“Patience, oh, little one.” Fred patted her on the head.

“Just meet us in the common room in 10 minutes.” George tried to hide his grin but failed.

Theodora rolled her eyes and walked to the girl’s changing room. She took her time to change her clothes and she took the longest route back to the Gryffindor Tower, trying to deny herself the fact that she couldn’t wait to see what Bill got her. The twins said 10 minutes – she has to give them time to prepare whatever they have planned. This wasn’t about Bill at all – she lied to herself.

She stopped in front of the common room, the Fat Lady waiting for her to tell her the password.

Why was she making such a big deal out of this? It’s just a gift. She has to calm down.

After gathering the courage to say the password, the portrait hole opened and Theodora climbed inside.

“SURPRISE!”

She was so busy dusting her robes that she didn’t see a group of people standing in the middle of the common room. She jumped into the air, her hand on her chest as they scared the living ghost out of her.

A smile painted her face when she saw the familiar faces. Fred and George were standing on the sides, throwing confetti in the air. Ron, Harry, and Hermione smiling at her, holding birthday presents. Her three roommates were standing next to Ginny who had the biggest grin on her freckled face. Lee was singing happy birthday into a microphone and Angelina and Katie were waving two small Gryffindor flags.

Theodora didn’t know how to react. It was so nice that they threw her a little birthday party. Nobody has ever done that for her before. There was a table in the left corner with a punch bowl and cupcakes. Candles lit all around the room and a big Happy Birthday banner hanging from the ceiling.

After they all congratulated her and gave her the gifts, the crowd dispersed, and other Gryffindors joined the party. Some were drinking punch, others were eating cupcakes. A group decided to play Exploding Snap and most of the girls were giggling about something in front of the fireplace.

Theodora was leaning against a wall observing the guests of her party. She tried to enjoy it. She was so happy how it turned out and she was proud of the twins for pulling something like this off.

Her eyes escaped to her two best friends who were trying to sell Canary Cream to a third year, convincing him that it’s completely harmless, making Theodora shake her head and chuckle.

“Hi, Theo.”

She turned around to see Eddie, a boy in her year, stand next to her.

“I didn’t have a chance to wish you a happy birthday before.” He scratched the top of his head.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Theodora smiled at him.

“Well, happy birthday.” The boy said and hugged her awkwardly, despite Theodora’s extended hand – expecting a handshake.

“Thank you.”

“I...I wanted to ask you something and it’s okay if you say no,” Eddie mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Okay,” Theodora replied slowly.

“I kind of fancy you for a while now and...and I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime.” He blabbered.

“Oh.” Theodora breathed.

She didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth and didn’t know how to reply. She couldn’t deny that Eddie was extremely handsome – awkward but handsome. But she also couldn’t deny that she would rather be in her room, opening Bill’s present than talking to him which meant she wasn’t ready to move on.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m flattered but I am kind of getting over someone.” She decided not to lie to him.

“Oh, I understand.” Eddie smiled sheepishly, trying not to sound disappointed. “Thank you for telling me the truth. Happy birthday again.”

Theodora nodded and bestowed him with a gentle smile. He turned on his heels and walked away.

“What’s wrong, Theo?” Fred leaned on the wall next to her.

“Don’t you like our surprise?” George bowed his head.

“I love it!” Theodora exclaimed. “I’m just tired and I was just asked out.”

She told the twins everything and it was killing her that she couldn’t discuss Bill’s letter with them but at the same time, she knew that they would tease her and make her go to her dorm to open the gift at once and she wanted to stall for as long as she could.

“By Eddie McNeal?” George sounded impressed.

“So when’s the big date?” Fred made a kissy face.

“I turned him down.” Theodora sighed.

Maybe she did that too quickly. Perhaps she should’ve said yes to him – he could help her get over Bill.

“Why?” George asked, puzzled.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Theodora replied honestly.

“Want to dance then?” Fred stepped in front of her and offered her his hand.

Theodora laughed, pushed herself away from the wall, and decided to forget about the world and spend her birthday with her amazing two friends.

—

It was 2 in the morning when Theodora started walking up the stairs to her dormitory. She had the biggest smile plastered on her face. She couldn’t believe how much fun she had with all her friends. This was definitely a birthday to remember.

She yawned as she reached her room and couldn’t wait to go to sleep. It wasn’t until she saw a rose, a letter, and a package that looked like a wrapped book on her bed that she realized she had so much fun that she forgot about Bill’s gift.

Her roommates were already asleep, which meant she could open it in private but it didn’t make her any less nervous.

She decided to unwrap the package first – just to get it over with and to avoid reading the letter for another minute or so.

She let out a silent gasp when she saw that Bill got her a book about how to start your own business. The book was on her reading list but she simply didn’t find the time to go to a Muggle bookstore and buy it.

She told Bill about the book one night when they were stargazing and she couldn’t believe he listened to her so attentively that he remembered she wanted to get it.

She put the book on her nightstand, excited to read it, and turned her gaze to the letter next to the rose. She hated how her heart was beating faster and faster in the anticipation of finally reading it.

She broke the seal and took two pieces of parchment out – Bill was not joking about this letter being longer.

Dear Theodora,

I hope my gift reached your dormitory and is set on the right bed. I was thinking for the longest time about what to buy for you and then I remembered the book you so enthusiastically talked about one night when we were outside observing the sky.

Hopefully, you didn’t already get it for yourself otherwise this will be one lousy present.

I wanted to gift it to you, to show my support and admiration of just how brave I think you are for standing up for yourself against your mother, supporting my brothers, and embarking on this journey with them.

I was thinking of getting you a white rose – knowing it’s your favorite color – but the symbol of a white rose is innocence and you, striving to achieve your dreams is more daring than innocent. I am proud of you for knowing what you want and not letting anyone tell you otherwise.

I hate to admit that I pondered for the longest time which color to get for you. I decided to go with orange in the end. It’s far from ordinary and they aren’t as common. Besides its meaning – being a symbol of enthusiasm and passion – it reminded me very much of how I see you.

You are incredibly gifted and extraordinary and people like you are hard to come by. You are enthusiastic and passionate about what you want to become and I wanted to get you something to remind you of that.

I hope I didn’t cross any lines with my gift. The last thing I would want is to make you uncomfortable on your special day.

Happy birthday again, Theodora.

Sending you a birthday hug,

Bill

Theodora sat on her bed with her mouth open. Her eyes, shining with tears – her eyelids gently fluttering – moved from the letter to the rose, untouched on her bed.

She picked it up and slowly brought it closer to her face. She closed her eyes and took a whiff of it – its beautiful smell filling her lungs.

She pressed the rose to her heart and reread the letter one more time, her mind completely blank. She didn’t know what to think of the letter at all. She definitely didn’t expect it to say what it did.

They were just friends, he was proud of her as a friend and friends can give each other flowers too, right?

She couldn’t allow herself to think too much about it – there was nothing she could do about the letter except to reply. Should she reply? And if so, what would she write back?

She tried remembering what Charlie sent her this morning, the owl waking her up by tapping on her window with her beak. She was friends with Charlie but he didn’t get her flowers. His letter was sweet and to the point – telling her he misses having her around, wishing her a happy birthday. Along with the letter he sent her a colorful beanie which he knitted himself ‘to warm you up when hot chocolate can’t’ – he explained in his letter.

She shook her head, smelling the rose again. Bill’s letter was just as friendly as Charlie’s and that’s all it is to it.

She put the rose inside a glass she had on her nightstand and disappeared under the covers, clutching Bill’s letter in her hand. With the help of the light coming from her wand, she reread it two more times before going to sleep.

Who was she fooling, thinking she’ll be able to fall asleep. She reread Bill’s words so many times that she knew them by heart now. She couldn’t stop thinking about it and she couldn’t stop beating herself with the question if she should reply to him or not.

Two more hours have passed and she was getting annoyed with herself. She has never spent a sleepless night thinking about a boy before. She can’t let this get to her. It was just a birthday present and she’s going to prove it to herself!

She got up, walked to her desk, and sat down. She picked up her quill and a piece of parchment and started replying to Bill. She will send him an owl in the morning and when Bill won’t reply to her, she will know for certain that she is overthinking this whole situation.

Dear Bill,

the gift reached me as you planned and I am deeply touched by it. I can’t believe you remembered which book I was blabbering about over and over. I was certain you stopped listening the second I mentioned it was about business.

Don’t you worry, I didn’t have the time to buy it for myself so you spared me some time and nobody else got it for me since you were the only one I told about it. I know what I am going to be doing for the next week when I don’t study for N.E.W.T.s!

I would like to thank you – not only for the gift but for being so supportive of me and your brothers. I know it’s a tricky path we are walking on but I feel it in my heart that it’s the right one.

My mother didn’t even congratulate me on my birthday so with everything I told you last summer you can imagine how much your support means to me. It’s nice to know that you are appreciated and cheered on and you have done just that with your letter, the book, and the rose.

The rose. I reckon I never saw an orange one before and you’re right, it isn’t ordinary at all – it’s beautiful and it smells divine. I am thinking of casting a spell on it so it doesn’t wither away. It’s a nice reminder of why I am doing what I am and I can’t find the words to express myself how thankful I am for it.

I have to admit that your gift pleasantly surprised me and it was far from crossing any lines or making me uncomfortable. It was a nice conclusion to my special day.

Thank you for the birthday wishes and the very thoughtful gift – it left me speechless.

Returning the birthday hug,

Theodora

[damn-stark]

The Dark Lord

Chapter 11 of Different Light

A/N- Hope you guys like this chapter :) let me know what you thought?

Warning- Mention of violence and torture, angst, SLOWBURN.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“It’s okay if you don’t get him on the first time,” George tries to assure you as he whispers in one ear and Fred whispers in the other.

“You’ll probably nail it on the second, again this is just practice.”

You side-eye them both and step away to spin around and face them with a fake appreciative smile on your lips. “I love your words of encouragement, I promise to try my best.”

“We’ll still be your friends after, okay?”

You touch your chest and pretend to be touched by George’s words whilst you walk back to stand on the mat, seeing said boy only grin at you before you turn to face Harry a couple feet across from you on the same mat.

Once you’re in a ready stance, you hold your wand with one hand and ignore the stares from the students watching to the side to focus on Harry across from you. Said boy also gets on a ready stance and his blue eyes meet yours before he loudly says, “wands on the ready.”

You lift your wand and watch Harry lift his own, resulting in the both of you to be in a standoff as you both waited to see if either one or the other would wave their wand to do the stun first. It took a few seconds of just waiting, of just keeping each other’s eyes on one another, but that’s when you took your opportunity to strike; you shot him a small and sweet smile and you caught as his fingers faltered on his wand, causing you to swiftly wave your wand and shout, “stupify.” Sending a small blue energy ball that hits him in the chest and sends him flying back.

You grin with excitement and pride after what you did and hear Harry groan, whilst there's murmurs from some students and giggles from others. Harry is quick to recover nonetheless and doesn’t hesitate to give you a compliment.

“Nice job, y/n. That was perfect.”

You offer him a smile before turning to the twins and pridefully offering them a small bow before you walk off to join Hermione and Clementine on the sidelines as others walk on the mat.

“ALL STUDENTS WILL SUBMIT TO QUESTIONING ABOUT suspected ILLICIT Activities.”

Isn’t that bloody amazing, the pink lady is just asking to be badly pranked.

Not like she’ll dare and pull you into her office for any sort of questioning—not because of what your house was, but because of who your father was, she knew if that one word would be sent to him from you, there would be hell to pay. The pink lady knew how to push your buttons, but this was one she couldn’t dare and press.

“A little higher,” you hear Harry instruct Cho, as he stood closely behind her and pressed his hand on hers to tilt it the right way. At the gentle action, and the way she turned to look at him, your grip around your wand tightened and anger began to boil in the pit of your stomach—you knew that you shouldn’t be angry, but you couldn’t help it, especially when he met her gaze and she got distracted and let the boy fall, it made you burn within and use a little too magic, resulting in the girl you were levitating to fly to the ceiling.

“Ahh.”

Your eyes fly to her and the anger painted on your face drops and twists into one filled with remorse. “Sorry!”

You gently bring the girl down and repeat your comment once more before you catch Clementine staring at you and giving you a disapproving head shake. Albeit it wasn’t for what had just happened, but about what she saw had just angered you—nonetheless you responded by not responding, just looking away and going the rest of the session trying not to look at Harry, making sure that once the end came you made a swift exit with the twins, following them to participate in one of their pranks against Mr. Filch.

“Now to wait,” Fred whispers from above you as he pokes his head out of the halls corner and waits like George and you do for Mr. Filch to come to his little set up in front of where the secret room door usually opens. It doesn’t take long for him to come to his post and once he does he doesn’t hesitate to open the heart shaped chocolate filled box. Making the twins and you grin proudly before sneaking off and sharing a fist bump.

“THOSE WISHING TO JOIN THE INQUISITORIAL SQUAD for EXTRA CREDIT May sign up in high inquisitors OFFICE.”

“We should join it,” Clementine suggests making you twist your head to shoot her a weird look. “I mean think about it, she can’t say anything about it, if she does just simply throw the daddy card and she’ll have nothing to do but let you in the bloody group.”

“Except the reason she’s forming this group is because of our,” you lean closer to her to continue in a whisper, “illicit activities.”

Clementine leans closer to you and finally takes her eyes off the post on the wall, smirking widely before copying your whisper. “That’s exactly why we’re joining, to have a foot on each side, trick them and guide them the wrong way.”

A smirk finally tugs on your lips and before long you’re both in her office along with other Slytherin (including your brother) joining the inquisitorial squad and getting funny medals—and once the pink lady reaches you, she hesitates to give you the medal, shooting you a discreet and well covered up glare that you simply respond with a melious smile.

You knew she didn’t want to give it to you, she didn’t want to let you join, you knew she suspected you of being in the secret group, but you didn’t let her intimidate you. You raised an eyebrow and kept your gaze on her, smiling wider as she ended up placing the medal on you and moving along. Once the object is on your cardigan you scrunch your nose at how irrelevant this really was, you didn’t express it but you knew Clementine knew it too.

Draco on the other hand thought this was the best thing ever, he hit your shoulder to gain your attention and showed off the same medal you had. The excitement on his face was hard to put down so you mirrored his grin and joined him in his excitement.

For now.

“Okay, now, Malfoy, this dummy is enhanced,” Clementine explains to you from the wooden dummy’s side as she has her hands on each side of it.

Herimone steps on the other side of the dummy and adds her own explanation, “Clementine and I made it so that as you’re ready in the middle, the dummy will move around as if it were a real enemy, okay? Your job is to not get hit and quickly disarm it before it hits you.”

“O...okay,” you sigh out as you step to the middle of the mat and hold your wand with one hand. “Sounds easy.”

“Should be.” Hermione assures you with a matching smile. Clementine and her step back and start up the dummy, leaving you to quickly react by swerving away from the stun it shot.

“Damn,” you hiss, spinning to the other side to face it after it spun around. Quickly you wave your wand and shout out, “expelliarmus!” But the dummy avoids your move and spins again, this time standing behind you and not waiting for you to turn to shoot a disarming spell; something you barely manage to avoid by ducking and turning on your heels to face its different position.

“I’m done with you,” you grumble while you grip onto your wand and swiftly have to turn to face it, shooting a spell, but missing it, causing it to rush behind you once more in attempts to catch you off guard. Albeit this time you were quick to think on your feet. You jumped to your side and threw your unoccupied hand out and in an annoyed and heated anger you shouted out, “stupify!” And in a blink of an eye the fast stunning ball shot out of your hand and sent the dummy flying back to the mirror, shattering it completely and earning the immediate attention from the two girls that had been watching.

“What?” Hermione gasped in disbelief, “how did you do that so perfectly? I mean I know that wandless magic could be performed, but it’s difficult for us here since we’re all accustomed to wands.”

You scratch the back of your neck and simply shrug. “I practice. I’ve been practicing for years.”

“That was impressive, y/n.” You hear Harry compliment you as he comes to stand by Clemtentine. “I can’t even do that.”

A heat instantly grows on your face and you smile shyly. “Thank you Harry.”

Said boy and you share a lingering gaze, but before long you have to look away as Clementine's comment caught your attention. Harry’s on the other hand remained stuck on you as he looked at you in disbelief and awe, a smile remained on his face and he had thought no one caught the admiration behind it; the hidden, unspoken feelings behind the gesture, but he was wrong. Herimone had been watching and caught on to the look and the smile.

——

“So that's it for this lesson.” Harry shared with the gathered group. “Now we won’t be meeting again until after the holidays, so just keep practicing on your own as best as you can. And well done everyone. Great, great work.”

The group alongside you clap after Harry’s little speech, not hesitating for too long for them all to disperse and walk out of the room and giving Harry a final goodbye before the holidays. While you on the other hand lagged behind, waving off Clementine and meeting Harry at the end of the room.

“You’re good at this you know,” you smile, “teaching. Plus all the students really like you as their mentor.”

Harry shrugs and a faint blush grows on his cheeks. “It’s...it’s not only me.”

You scoff, “it’s all you. You’re a great teacher. I mean I like to think I’m good, but after getting taught by you I come to realize that I can be better. So thank you for also teaching me.”

Harry slowly smiles and you see him swallow thickly, letting his eyes slowly drift down to your lips for a split second before he was forced to pull them away as Fred and George came up behind you—“we were thinking Harry, we could always slip Umbridge some puking pastilles into her tea.”

“Or fever foot, they give you these massive puss—filled balls—”

“Sounds great guys, would you excuse me.”

Without anything left to say, Harry walks off past you and you’re forced to follow the twins out of the room. Before you can leave completely you look back to what has suddenly been so urgent to Harry Potter, and see that it was only one thing, one girl more like; Cho Chang. At the sight of them two close again, you clench your jaw and scoff before fuming out of the room with the twins at your side.

They don’t notice your anger and how bothered you were at the knowledge of Harry and Cho alone together, (not like it should really be a real issue), but you just couldn’t help it, it boiled at the pit of your stomach and it only mixed with your anger on why you got mad. It was...stupid.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

Fred chuckles, “I said we could do it before we leave for the holidays.”

You blink and look up at him, narrowing your gaze and parting your lips in confusion. “Do what?”

“Prank...Umbridge...where are you?”

You giggle nervously and shake your head to dismiss the worry in his tone. “I’m sorry, it’s—”

“It’s that letter isn’t it? The one from your stepmum?”

The faint smile slowly begins to disappear and a frown doesn’t fail to replace in its place. “No. It’s not.” You turn your eyes away from him and sigh, lifting your lips into a feigned smile and walking ahead of them to turn to head to your common room with only a quick goodbye. “Well this is the last I’ll be seeing of you two until after the holidays, I’ll be busy so please don’t send letters.” You quicken your pace and talk quickly over your shoulder. “Okay?”

Fred blinks in disbelief and tries to catch up, but you only quicken your pace and turn to your given hall. “Wait, y/n, is that it? Aren’t we talking tomorrow?”

You finally come to a halt and fully turn around to face him, walking to him at the end of the hall and offering him a small smile before you kissed his cheek. “On the train?”

He nods and a smile slowly returns on his face. “Of course. I guess we’ll have to postpone our prank until after then?”

You grin and wink. “Until after.”

——

Just as Fred and you had agreed to meet on the train before you got to the station and you would be without contact for a few weeks, he never showed, just like George nor the rest of his family didn’t; in fact Harry, nor Hermione were on the train either, it was strange. Yet you didn’t have time to question it, or people to ask for information. You were left clueless. For a while. Until you got home and found out the reason why the Weasley family, Harry and Hermione weren’t on the train home.

Apparently Mr. Weasley had suffered an attack; the details weren’t all there since Narcissa made sure it wasn’t spoken on your first day back home, or at all in fact. Not like she was really protecting you from anything considering the burden you knew was going to be put on your shoulders.

“Are you ready?”

You stand up from your chair and turn to face Narcissa entering the room. “Yes, I think I am.” You take a look at her and realize something. “Are you not going?”

Narcissa drops her gaze and shakes her head. “No, just your father and you.” Narcissa lifts her eyes and walks to stand closer before you. “Draco is not going either. I managed to convince your father not to take him, to not get him involved...I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for you, my love.”

Carefully you begin to rub your wrists and whisper. “Good, I don’t want Draco involved.” Slowly you return your gaze back to her and smile softly, “thank you for trying.”

Narcissa cups your cheeks and smiles warmly before pressing a kiss on your forehead and pulling away to fix the collar of your jacket. “I’ll see you on Christmas, okay? I’ve got presents to give your brother and you.”

A knock sounds on your open door and pulls your attention towards it to see your father and an upset Draco behind him. “It’s time to go.”

You nod and just before you could walk towards your father, Narcissa stops you and gives you a tight hug that she took a moment to part away from; it felt like she just didn’t want to let you go, when she did it was only because your father called again. Even then she followed the both of you until you had disapparated away.

“When we get in there, don’t leave my side, talk only if he talks to you and don’t hold back.” Your father stops in the gravel and turns to face you, his blue eyes burning into your own eyes. “Do you understand me?”

You look to the door of the dark eery hotel and nod slowly, drifting your gaze to your fathers once you feel his hand on your shoulder. “I understand,” you swallow thickly and just as you hook your arm around your fathers and continue towards the hotel, you ask one last thing in a shaky voice. “Will I become a death eater?”

Your father sighs and even if he tried to hide it there was a falter in his confidence, he showed a fear that was so rare for you to see in him. His answer was so different and made fear finally strike within you. “I don’t know.”

You clench your free hand tightly and remain silent for the rest of the way up to the hotel, feeling your nerves heighten as you reach the final door that would lead to the inevitable.

So far nothing was out of order, the hotel was empty and dark but nothing beside that was off. Not until the door opened and it revealed a small, skittish man with a goldenhand that welcomed your father and you with a creepy smile that made your nose scrunch. Yet that wasn’t the weird part of walking into the dark, dirty room, what surprised you most was seeing professor Snape inside the room, standing by the fireplace.

Once he recognized you, he straightened out his shoulders and looked at you with a widened gaze that he was quick to disguise by returning to his usual, deep nonchalant expression; that or the one where he seemed to be disappointed at the world.

“Snape, I’m surprised you’re here, I was told you wouldn’t be attending.” Your father tells Snape.

“I was told this meeting was important,” his dark eyes glance at you for a few seconds before he continues. “I can see why now.”

Professor Snape was never someone you hated like the other students did, his classes were fun until Umbridge changed everything, and he was never a professor you disliked. Yes the previous year you might have messed around in his class, but he never treated you poorly like he did the other students, he almost appeared to tolerate you more than he did others. So you didn’t dislike his presence here; it was just very surprising even if it shouldn’t be.

Regardless your father and Professor snape talked, and since you had nothing else to do but wait as the other death eaters slowly filtered in, you listened, only truly paying attention to one conversation.

“Snape, I wanted to ask you a favor. I predict the Dark Lords intentions with my daughter and with that I know that school won’t be a safe place for her to roam with what she’ll learn here,” your father explained in a more hushed tone, making sure no rats heard what they weren’t supposed to. “I want you to give my daughter private occlumency lessons. I only trust you.”

Snape glances at you and his eyes stay on you for a few seconds before they dig into your father, he sighs deeply and answers bluntly. “I’ll do it, but only if she wants me to teach her.”

Once again, the attention drifts to you and you don’t hesitate to answer with an eager nod. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Fine, every Friday after NEWTS.”

A small appreciative smile grows on your lips and even if you meant it for the professor, he was quick to ignore you. Not like he had much of a choice because not minutes after, everyone went eerily silent and you were pulled off your seat to watch as the door opened, letting in a beautiful snake with a long smooth body; it was dark and captivating, yet intimidating.

Nothing like it’s master, who walked in shortly after. No it—he was frightening and ugly; he had pale white skin, and his nose was like a snakes. His eyes were the only thing normal about him, because the rest was disfigured. His appearance made you grip onto your father tighter, like if your life depended on it.

You didn’t let him frighten you, or dismilsh your confidence, or bravery, you sat tall and confident. Only faltering slightly at the sound of his voice. “Welcome back my friends, and welcome to the new faces around the table. Today we have united to discuss the plans for some of our captured family, and the topic of our new potential member.” His eyes landed on you and then slid to your father sat beside you.

“My Lord,” your father added in a proud voice while he stood up. “May I present you to my oldest child, my daughter, Y/N Malfoy.”

After the introduction you stood up and tugged your lips into a feigned tight lipped smile, you bowed your head and spoke up in a loud voice that hid how you really felt. “It’s an honor.”

“Ah, I do remember her, she was only a baby then; the bastard child.”

The feigned smile on your lips falters while you and your father sit back down. You of course don’t add anything and felt a slight flicker of anger at the cruel name he called you.

“It’s good to see that you, my child, will follow in your fathers footsteps.” The Dark Lord continues with a wicked smile growing on his pale thin face. “Of course if it weren’t for your fathers...mistakes, you wouldn’t be here.”

“I assure you, being here,” you interject after you dug your nails into your chair, “following my fathers footsteps is an honor. I wouldn’t want nothing more.”

“So well spoken,” Lord Voldemort answers in a more calm voice. “I see why you praise her so much, Lucius. Now prove to us that she is as skilled as you claim.” Voldemort sits back in his chair and begins to stroke the snake's head, following your fathers movements with his cold eyes.

“Wormtail, bring it here.”

Said tiny man scurrys off instantly after your fathers command and doesn’t take long to return with a small cage in his hand, walking to your side and placing it in front of you before returning to where he was sitting—now you don't need anyone to tell you what to do next, they were testing you, trying to embarrass your family if you got this wrong; that was clear to see, it was painted all over the faces of Voldemort and his followers.

“Now child you do know the three unforgivable curses right?” Lord Voldemort asked in a chilling voice that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Nonetheless you stand up and nod, drifting your gaze away from him to look down at the cage that you had yet to see what it contained. “I want you to perform them on that creature inside the cage.”

“But my Lord,” your father dared to protest, “she’s simply a child, she hasn’t completed school yet, she hasn’t mastered—”

“Anyone could do it, if you put your mind to it, you claim she’s strong, so this will be nothing. Don’t worry no one outside this room will know she did it”

“I can do it,” you interject confidently, sparing your father one last look before turning your attention to the cage and opening it to see a rat run out. You put your wand on the table and slowly extend your hand out, taking in a deep breath and slowly releasing it before having to do as you were told. “Imperio.”

Your hand began to tremble a bit at the energy and strength you were using to cast the spell and have the rat do your bidding, but you were managing it; you made the rat run to the pit fireplace where before it could burn, you brought it back to the center of the table.

Now you had to perform the cruciatus curse, but that unlike the other was more difficult, you kept the rat in the middle, but before you could utter the next spell, you had to clear your mind, convince yourself that you wanted to hurt this innocent animal, that you hated it. It was a difficult task because you didn’t want to do it, but you remembered what was on the line; your family’s life, they were the only thing that mattered, and even if they hadn’t mentioned it, you knew that if you didn’t do well they would have to pay for your failure. So there was no point in hesitating.

You sigh and once again speak out a spell, “crucio.”

In an instant the rat begin to squirm and screech loudly; as you made up these fake emotions in your head, the rat only screeched out in pain louder and you only began to turn your head away so you wouldn’t see how it twisted its body, how it looked under the pain you casted. You wanted to stop, but you knew doing so early on would bring consequence, so you only increased the pain and made Lord Voldemort’s interest peak until he finally stopped you.

“Good, good, that’s enough of that, now,” he scoffs out of amusement and stands up from his chair, “do the last spell.”

You nod stiffly and return your gaze back to the animal in front of you, this time you hesitate, glancing at your father who was already looking at you. He saw the hesitance in your eyes and just offered you a simple nod that he used to gesture to you to continue. It wasn’t really comforting, but it worked.

So with one hand you grip onto the table and the other you flex before you, you look at the rat and release a deep breath, you ignore the curious stares from the silent watchers and you finally muster enough courage to cast the final spell. “Avada Kedavra.”

A bright, blinding green bolt of light shoots out of your hand and hits the rat on the table, swiftly stopping its struggle and ending its life.

After the spell, after the light disappeared and brought back the dim light that was lit from above, you stumbled back after the effect of how much power it was and your father was quick to grab your shoulders to keep you in balance, not having time to check on you as Lord Voldemort interrupted him with a slow clap.

“I’m impressed, what should have been so hard to do without the use of a wand, was so easy to accomplish from someone so young.” He sat back down and you finally looked back at his pale and thin face, but not after noticing the shock stricken expressions on the death eaters faces. “It seems your father didn’t waste his time in teaching you. You’ll make a perfect death eater, you’ll fit nicely right next to your brother.”

Your eyes widen and you clench your fists tightly. Now you should have stayed quiet, but you couldn’t. “No.”

“Hmm?” Lord Voldemort stood up and slowly made his way behind you, pressing his hands tightly on your shoulders and whispered by your ear. “What did you say?”

“No,” you breathed out shakily, “I’ll become a death eater, but not my brother.”

“Y/N.” Your father hissed.Not like you listened.

“I don’t want Draco to live through this, I want him to have a normal life until he can, he’s just a kid.”

Voldemort chuckles and pulls away, patting your fathers back before walking back and creating a tension in the room. “You’ve raised them right, Lucius. Her loyalty is admirable. She’ll do anything for her family, just like we all would, she’s fit to be a death eater. Not like she had much of a choice right?”

“Right.” Your father repeats with a small forced smile.

“She’ll become a death eater when she comes of age which is….”

“In the summer.”

“Until then.”

You sit back down and finally breathe out a heavy and shaky breath, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders—even if a heavy burden had just fallen upon you. There was no way to avoid what you would become, you couldn’t have a say in it even if you tried. As much as you tried to be the good person, prove that you weren’t like your family, now you would be just like them. The one thing you could try and do now is try to keep Draco from the same fate.

Wherever becoming a death eater would take you anyway….now your future was unclear.

One thing was for certain though, your standing with your secret defensive group is stronger. At least you had control of that, at least that brought a small glimmer of hope that you would avoid your dark fate, that Draco would avoid it.

Then again how could you continue in Dumbledore's army? Now that you would be Harry Potter's literal enemy, as much you knew you liked him, you were one of the people he hated.

If it came down to it, if—when you do become a death eater and it came down to it, you would have to fight Harry. Even if you didn’t want to, you would. Would he forgive you? Understand you?

What about Fred?

“This is hard,” you groan loudly as you slide off the couch.

“What is?” Draco quieres curiously.

“Stuff.” You simply throw at him.

“What stuff? If you would tell me what happened in that meeting I’d understand.” Draco kept nagging.

Again you groan whilst you sit up straight, “I told you—”

“Are you going to be a death eater, like father?”

“Uh,” you blink and rub the inner corner of your eyes, “yes.”

“What? How come I’m not!”

“Because Draco you can’t. You’re just...a kid.” You mutter.

“A kid?! No I’m not! I’m for more mature than any other student in my year, I’m smart and skilled, I—”

“Because Draco I won’t let you!” You cut him off before you jumped to your given height and stormed to your room, where you just flopped on your bed and blankly stared at the ceiling and whispered, “what am I going to do?”

You were of course without answers. You badly wanted someone to talk to, but no one would truly understand...maybe Harry would, but you couldn’t tell him everything...it wouldn’t be safe. Just like it wouldn’t be safe for anyone else to know what troubled you.

Once again you were starting to drift into a lonely secluded corner. What were you going to do?

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Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs, @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine , @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog , @prettypinkpeachh , @pest-ill-ence , @ilovespideyyy , @m3ssytrash @hogwarts-babe-blog @yodaboo

[theheartsmistakes]

Any Other Name- Chapter 4

Smoke unfurled from the end of the cigarette hanging from James’s mouth as he rested his forearms on the bordering wall that lined the rooftop across the street from the London Institute where he used to call home. Ashes flickered in the placid breeze that drifted in from the North and mixed with the dusting of snow the gray sky had finally decided to release upon the wasteland that was SoHo.

The cold bit at his fingertips, exposed by his fingerless gloves as he took the last drag and then stamped the stub out on the bricks.

It was nearly five in the afternoon when they arrived; he’d been waiting on the roof across the street for nearly an hour when he finally saw the flash of red hair standing out like a beacon in the otherwise gray and dismal world. She stepped out from the cab with a black duffle bag in her hand, in an oversized jumper and bicycle shorts.

She had to be freezing, he thought, as he released the smoke from his lungs. The last time she came to London it was summertime. He remembered the time well. He’d just been expelled from the Academy and kept home from the summer trip to Egypt his friends and sister went on to see the infamous pyramid Institute there. It wasn’t his parent’s intention to keep him behind, but since a number of his academy peers would be attending the trip as well, it wasn’t advised that he be amongst them after the recent series of unfortunate events that led to his unjust expulsion. He wasn’t entirely convinced he wouldn’t purposefully release a demon in the same room as Augustus Pounceby and Alastair Carstairs and their cadre of idiotic sycophants if given even the slightest chance.

Besides, he didn’t mind being left behind. He got to spend the summer catching up on his reading and training in the Institute’s gym. He’d nearly perfected throwing his blade directly into the target without looking when the Carstairs arrived for official Clave business. Their daughter, who was around the same age as Lucie, arrived with them. Cordelia wasn’t able to go on the Egypt trip either because of a training injury that left Cordelia on crutches and in a cast that wouldn’t be healed for several weeks. He couldn’t recall what happened, but he did remember that her ankle snapped in three different places and the Silent Brothers couldn’t mend it fully without her taking some time off of it. So, like him, she had been left behind. While his mother entertained Cordelia’s mother, she volunteered James to entertain Cordelia.

They spent the entire week she was there reading together while Cordelia rested her foot, sharing their favorite stories until hours into the night. She read to him passages of Layla and Majnun and he showed her all of his favorite parts of London from the top of a Mundane tourist bus. When the days would come to their end and they’d go off to their separate rooms, he found himself staying up at night craving the sound of her voice, the pitch of her laugh, the way her smile transformed her whole face and made his insides unfurl. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from finding their way back to her. One moment he would be reading Hemingway and the next he would be highlighting a passage to share with Cordelia. He’d be eating breakfast with his parents and find himself comparing the color to her hair. Each moment he was with her, it became more and more of a challenge not to give in to the overwhelming desire to kiss her.

He cursed himself for the better part of five years for not saying something to her before she left to go back to Tehran.

It may have been nothing more than a childhood crush at the time, but it flickered somewhere deep in his chest at the sight of her loose hair tumbling in the breeze as she looked up at the Institute.

“Daisy,” he whispered, the word curled in white smoke from his lips.

She turned to look over her shoulder towards him as if she’d heard his voice. He resisted the instinct to duck and instead held her gaze. From where he stood on the roof, he couldn’t make out her profile or even see if her lips were moving. There was no possible way that even if she did see a figure on the adjacent roof a few yards away, that she would recognize him. Still, he found himself holding his breath until she looked away again.

He watched as the Carstairs moved their things into his home with help by the very same Shadowhunters that voted him and his family out. Boxes filled with items his parents didn’t have time to collect before they were evicted from the estate were thrown out like trash to the curb.

“I don’t know why you choose to torture yourself in this way, Jamie boy,” said Matthew as he came up behind James and leaned his back against the railing. “It’s fucking freezing up here.”

James hadn’t heard Matthew come in through the roof door. He was still growing accustomed to the absence of intrinsically knowing when Matthew was near since their Parabatai runes had been destroyed.

“What can I say?” said James, leaning onto his forearms. “I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“And what have you done this time to deserve this self-assigned penance?” asked Matthew, kicking an empty beer can across the gravel. “And why was I not involved in the crime?”

“Thoughts of murder,” said James, “and revenge.”

“Nothing a few hail Angels and hours of demon hunting can’t forgive.” Matthew spun around and leaned on the railing beside James. “Ah, it’s move-in day. I should’ve known you be stalking the Institute like a starving crow.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“Who?”

James nodded towards the Institute.

“The Carstairs girl?” Matthew pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket and stuck it between his lips. After a moment of fighting with his lighter, smoke drifted from the corner of his mouth. “Considering she’s only been here for all of seven minutes, no, I haven’t talked to her. Is she cute?”

James turned to glare at his friend. “How would I know?”

Matthew shrugged. “I just figure if you’re willing to freeze your balls off on the roof of this mundane hotel to watch her move into your old place then she must be cute. Didn’t the two of you have a short fling a few years back?”

“It wasn’t a fling.”

“Sorry,” said Matthew around a puff of smoke. “A relationship.”

“It wasn’t a fling nor was it a relationship,” said James laced with annoyance. “We spent a short summer together when you abandoned me to go to Egypt. We read books and I showed her around London.”

Matthew clutched his chest, right over his heart. “Please, James, spare me the intimate details.”

James gave his shoulder a hard shove. “Come off it. I haven’t seen her since we were children, I was just curious if you spoke to her and could tell me how she... seemed.”

Matthew’s pale eyebrows raised. “How she seemed?”

“Forget I asked.”

“No,” laughed Matthew. “Genuinely, I’m happy to see you pining after someone other than Grace Blackthorn.”

A flash of betrayal coursed through James at the mention of his ex-girlfriend’s name. He’d been in a fairly serious relationship with Grace (serious on his part, but rather noncommittal on her end) that ended abruptly when the Clave sided with Inquisitor Bridgestock in exiling the Herondale family. That very night Grace approached him outside the Institute in Idris and while hugging him, told him that her mother no longer thought it would be appropriate if they saw each other and then left.

He indeed pined for her for some time afterward. He got roaring drunk and sent her a series of fire messages that went unreciprocated and progressively turned to beg until Matthew took away his stele and paper until he was sober and could control himself. Not even a month later, Matthew told him that she started seeing Charles, Matthew’s brother from time to time. James went out and got himself so drunk that he passed out underneath a bridge like a deranged troll.

Grace had been his first real relationship. He’d taken other girls out before, and it was on a date that Grace approached him—or rather stole him—from his date and started snogging him in the back alley of the Devil’s Tavern. That was Grace’s way with him: stolen, secret moments that left him reeling and in desperate need of a cold shower.

But when he tried to hold her hand in public, she’d find a reason to move away from him. If she spoke to her within a group, she barely made eye contact with him. When they attended parties or went out, she insisted they arrive and leave separately. He never asked her why she wanted it that way; perhaps he knew the answer and didn’t want to hear it.

He stayed with her because of tender moments when he felt the real Grace, his Grace, show herself. Like when they snuck out to Richmond Park and spent the night together lying on the grass, looking up at the stars, and talking about plans for their future. It hadn’t occurred to him then that none of her plans included him.

No, he’d long since stopped pining after Grace Blackthorn and wished for her demise with as much sincerity as he wished for the rest of those who exiled his family.

Matthew could be relentless in his teasing, so James made a quick attempt at changing the subject. “Did you bring what I asked for?”

Matthew shoved his hand into his light blue corduroy jacket pocket and brought out a three-toothed brass key about the length of his pinkie finger and handed it over to James. “I need that back before my mother realizes it’s missing which shouldn’t be until Monday morning when she returns to her office, so make sure that you get whatever it is that you need done with it finished by tomorrow night.”

James clutched the key in his fist. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Shouldn’t?” Matthew blanched. “No, no, it won’t be a problem, because if it is a problem then my mother will take the blame for it. James, I need that key back by tomorrow night.”

James placed a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “I understand, Math. I will leave the key at your flat tomorrow morning underneath the ceramic dog on your porch.”

Matthew’s mouth flattened into a straight line. “I have your word?”

“Of course,” said James and pocketed the key. “Do you not trust me?”

“Yes, of course, I trust you,” insisted Matthew. “My family has just been under a fucking microscope since everything happened. I had to tell the Penhallow boy that I was going to the shops to pick out new underwear and the bastard trailed me all the way to the strip mall and only left when I started picking out briefs. I would be insulted by his assuming that I am lying if I weren’t so goddamn irritated.”

James tensed. “Are you sure no one tracked you here?”

“Yes,” said Matthew as he took another long drag of his cigarette, “I’m sure. In fact, I tracked Penhallow to the Institute where he is one of the volunteers helping to move the Carstairs family in.”

“You didn’t volunteer?” asked James.

A stream of smoke flowed from Matthew's nostrils. “God no, I may have mentioned assisting my mother on official Clave business regarding a demon possessed artifact in an abandoned warehouse on Bleeker Street, so that is where they all expect me to be. Thomas, I believe, volunteered or perhaps he was wrangled into the job by his parents. The boy hasn’t stopped growing since he turned thirteen and his voice dropped. He looks like a linebacker on one of those American football teams. He will come more in handy than I ever could.”

Nearly a month has gone by with no word from Thomas or Christopher since the exile. As hard as James tried to understand the position his closest friends were put in, he couldn’t stop the sharp pang of abandonment, no matter how desperately he tried to convince himself that it was not like that for them. If the tables were reversed and he had to decide whether to risk seeing his friends or protecting his own life and the life of his family, then he could understand the hesitation.

Still, the anger ripped at his logic. He missed his friends— more than anything else he’d been forced to leave behind, he missed his friends.

“Is there really a demon possessed artifact in a warehouse on Bleeker Street?”

Matthew flicked the ashes off the end of his cigarette. “Yes, but it’s being dealt with by Anna and a few others. I told my mother I volunteered to help the Carstairs move. Everyone believes me to be in one place, when in fact, I’m actually here with you. As long as no one speaks to each other about my elegid whereabouts then they’ll all be none the wiser.”

“Clever,” said James, fiddling with the key in his pocket. “Thank you, for risking what you have to bring me what I needed. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

Matthew shook his head and stepped away from the bordering wall. His trainers crunched against the gravel as he spun on his heels to face James. “I may have to appear to be obeying their rules, but that doesn’t mean that I agree with them and it doesn’t mean that I will allow them to win. My life is still very much my own and I still choose to have you in it. You’re more than my friend, you’re my brother, more than my own even. I’ve told you before Jamie, they can erase my rune, but they cannot erase my promise, I will honor our vows as parabatai until I meet my end and not before.”

James embraced his oldest friend, clutching him tight around the shoulders. “I feel the same.”

Matthew returned the embrace. “You’ll take care of yourself, yeah? You haven’t told me yet what you intend to do with that key and I’ve been trying to give you your space and not ask, but if I’m invited to your trial after they catch you, I will deny ever being involved.”

James released him. “But you just said…”

“No where in the vows does it say that I have to stand by you when you do something stupid that I clearly warned you against!”

“It’s implied,” said James.

“I only follow explicit instructions, not implied instructions,” said Matthew throwing his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his trainer before glancing at the watch around his wrist. “Shite, I’m going to be late. The Inquisitor saw fit to put a curfew on those of us who were affiliated with you. If I’m home even a minute after seven then I am forced into a meeting with both Bridgestock, Pounceby, and a witness to verify that I am being truthful about my whereabouts. Also, I’m supposed to pick up Christopher to help my father with one of his experiments on weapons infused with holy water.” Matthew’s eyes widened. “That doesn’t effect your demony issue, does it?”

James rolled his eyes. “No more than it effects yours.”

Matthew grinned as he slowly walked back towards the roof door. “My demons have far more expensive taste in poison, I’m afraid.” With that, he opened the roof door and disappeared leaving James staring over the edge as his life once again shifted into something he couldn’t recognize.

___________________________________________________

Whispers of the exiled Shadowhunters crawled through the streets of Hackney, one of London’s most dangerous boroughs and home to most Downworlders that had effectively been pushed out of the bigger, better boroughs by the Clave. Lined with crowded pubs and coffeehouses, and veined with dark and minacious alleys fraught with all manner of salacious activities, the whispers followed James around like his own shadow.

It’d taken him not even a week to develop a reputation in Hackney that allowed him to wander the streets unbothered, though it did involve a significant amount of blood on his hands and a few scars that couldn’t be healed fully with an iratze. Afterward, the whispers turned to warnings and rumors of his ruthlessness; those standing on the streets as he walked back averted their attention or moved out of his path. There were the occasional few that stepped out to challenge him from time to time, but he’d simply have to fling a blade within an inch of their skin and they’d let him pass.

James flipped one of his throwing knives between his fingers as he walked: a silent reminder to those around him of who he was and what he was capable of doing. It was an unnecessary safety measure, but a comfort all the same. The knives were the last remnants of being a Shadowhunter that he has left; now he lived amongst of the shadows he once hunted.

As he approached the great stone arch that marked the entrance to The Hell Ruelle, Hepatia Vex’s nightclub, without uttering a word, the burly guard stepped out his way and allowed James entry.

The place was packed with a mixture of mundanes gifted with the sight, Fae, Warlocks, Witches, Vampires, and Werewolves dancing in the strobing lights that swayed in the exposed rafters to the electronic music that pulsed throughout the building. James dodged dancing bodies until he reached one of the many ladders that went to the second level. The steel bars were warm underneath his palms and littered with glitter amongst other unmentionable things. Once on the second level, he went straight, passed the NO ACCESS signs that flickered above the doorway, and pushed aside the heavy curtain that kept patrons out. Once the curtain closed again, the music went nearly silent except he could still feel the beat of the dancers and music underneath his trainers.

He slipped silently down the hallway, scanning the shadows in the rafters above for any of Hepatia’s spies until he reached the rouge door at the end and knocked three times.

“Who is it?” asked a deep feminine voice.

“James Herondale,” he said and crossed his arms. “I’ve brought what you asked for and I’m ready to trade, that is if you still want to do business with—“

The door swung open and standing on the other side was not Hepatia Vex, as he has expected, but a half-naked girl with star-shaped nipple covers and a skirt that was nothing more than a belt with two long strips of fabric covering her front and back. Long, tanned hips and legs that James had a difficult time ignoring were laid bare and glistening in the dull lamplight. Her opulent eyes reflected like those of a cat as she smiled lasciviously at James.

“Come in, Herondale,” said a voice from within the darkroom.

James shouldered past the courtesan that may or may not have smelled him as he passed and walked towards the plush green sofa where Hepatia stretched out in a black leather skirt and white bralette that nearly glowed against her deep, rich skin tone. The room smelt heavy with magic laced with weed and sex.

Hypatia's eyes wandered lazily over James as she uncurled her hand towards him. “Where is it? Give it to me.”

“No until you give me what I asked for,” answered James and glanced over his shoulder at the courtesan. “And she needs to leave.”

Vex started at James for a moment, the corners of her full, sensuous mouth turned up at the corners until she swung her body into a seated position and crossed one leg over the other knee. “Why the secrecy? Afraid to tarnish your reputation… but wait, hasn’t that been done already?”

“I don’t need all of the boroughs to know my business,” said James, staring at Vex around the ends of the curls that had fallen into his face. He’d been told on countless occasions that a look from him set people on edge. Perhaps it was the color of his eyes or the intensity within them.

Whatever it was, it worked. “Leave us, Femi. Bring us back some refreshments.”

Without a word or much of a sound, Femi left out the door.

Vex bounced the foot resting in the air and drummed her long red-painted fingernails on the couch cushion as she continued to look James up and down. “You look thin. Life in the dirty Hub not treating you so nicely, little angel.”

“Don’t call me that,” snapped James.

“Why not?” grinned Vex, satisfied to have found a wound for which she could press. “Oh, is that not accurate anymore? Should I refer to you as, little demon, instead?”

“Do you want to make the trade or not?” James’s voice dropped into a low, miserable timber. “I have other business to attend to.”

“I’m sure you do,” said Vex as she stood up and walked around the couch towards the minibar at the back of the room. She waved her hand over the ceramic ice holder three times as flecks of red and magenta smoke uncurled from her fingers. The lid to the ice bucket shook until she took it off and removed what was inside.

She sauntered her way back to where James stood. Her cat-shaped eyes slid over him from brow to chest to hips and back up again. Her pupils dilated slightly. “My you’ve grown into a handsome young man, haven’t you?”

James resisted the urge to cross his arms or crumble under her stare.

“But then you’ve always been handsome.” Elongated incisors flashed as she grinned. “Something you inherited from your father.” She reached and grabbed James by the wrist-twisting his arm until his palm was flat and facing up. She dropped three bags of iridescent powder into his hand. “Now for the key.”

James pocketed the powder and retrieved the key. Hypatia snatched it from his hand and held it close to her chest. “Pleasure doing business with you, Herondale. You should go have a dance. You look like you need to unwind and there are other ways to do that without the use of those drugs. I can fall up Fima and show you one of my favorite ways.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I need to be going,” said James, but before he turned to leave he remembered his conversation with Matthew. “I’ll need that key back by tomorrow afternoon and no later. It’s important that I return it.”

Vex dropped the key into the ice bucket and replaced the lid. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I will have someone meet you at Blackfriar bridge.”

James nodded and turned to leave. As he reached for the door handle, Vex’s voice came from behind him.

“And James, if you ever find that you want a real job and not to sell magical drugs on the street, come and see me.”

James didn’t bother to turn around, he turned the handle and stepped out, with absolute surety that a business with Hypatia Vex was not one that he wanted any part in.

Walking out of The Hell Ruelle, James felt as if he could breathe freely again. The warm July night had the streets crowded with miscreants and the company of such, especially in Hackney. He skirted past couples doing more than just making out against the alley walls and avoided the gang of werewolves lighting dumpsters on fire outside of a liquor store and proceeded to howl mockingly at the moon.

He made his way down Briar Street towards the canal where his regular customers would be waiting for him to provide his recently acquired goods under the troll bridge where all manner of questionable deeds went on. He needed to be one of the first ones to get there or all of the most desperate would have bought from someone else.

As he passed an alley towards the end of the busy street, he heard the sound of a female voice coming from the alleyway. He wouldn’t have stopped if it hadn’t sounded so familiar.

He backed up several steps and looked down the alley. Three tall male Fae warriors stood in a row and over the middle one’s shoulder, James could see a flash of red hair, the curve of her face, and the golden hilt of a sword resting over her shoulder.

Something twisted in his gut as recognition overtook him. She looked different, older, beautiful.

“I don’t want to harm any of you.” There was a slight waver in her voice: fear and determination. “I’m here by accident and I’d like to leave without any unnecessary bloodshed. If you would kindly move, I will happily be on my way.”

The Fae warrior in the center removed two blades from the scabbards at his sides and glided them across each other so they made a spark. “I say we remove her clothes piece by piece and allow everyone in the Mill to look their fill of her nakedness.”

“She is a lovely thing,” said the Fae to his right. “Perhaps we could take turns with her and return her back to her people used.”

James’s blood boiled in his veins at the threat and he reached for the throwing knife tucked in his jacket pocket. He hadn’t answered the call in his blood in some time, fighting as a Shadowhunter was too painful. He preferred to get his knuckles bloody and his skin to split, but there wasn’t time for that now and it was far too kind of a punishment for the threat they made towards her.

Cordelia drew Cortana and positioned herself to fight. “You can try.”

“What will you do?” grinned the head Fae. “You’ll cut all three of us down by yourself with that little blade?”

He moved towards her again, but Cordelia stood firm. James couldn’t help but smile at her stony resolve. She would do it, he could see it in her eyes that she would not hesitate, but the bloodshed from either side would surely make waves in the water that his parents and several other Downworlders were trying to still.

James leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. “Oh, I wouldn’t doubt her, Bevan. I’ve seen her take down men twice as skilled as you.”

As the three Fae men turned to look behind them, Cordelia lunged.

A/N:

Thanks for reading! Comments, like, and reblog are my primary motivation.

Next update: Fri, 6/25

[laurelsofhighever]

“Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain” for Maighread and Cullen? 💙

Thank you for sending this prompt, and for finally giving me a reason to write Maighread and Cullen’s first kiss! It’s rambling and heavy on the angst because maighread overthinks everything, but it has a happy ending, I promise.

--

Maighread Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste and storied leader of the Second Inquisition, stands at the tower door, hand raised to knock as it has been for long enough that the blood is starting to drain out of her arm. It’s pouring rain, night black around her, storm lanterns guttering on the walls, and she’s drenched. At least the bad weather means no one can see her, though the thought is of little comfort. The light spilling under the door means that Cullen is still inside, awake – probably working.

What is she even doing out here? A sensible person would have waited until morning, or at least until the rain stopped. But she’s not sensible. Her feelings for the Inquisition’s Commander have been burning in her, consuming her from the inside out like a fire in the heart of a lightning-struck tree. She thinks about him all the time. When he talks to her – smiles at her – the blood in her veins sings; when shadows bruise his eyes and his voice emerges in terse, indistinct mumbles it’s like the cut of the wind off the mountain peaks. Varric and Bull have needled her, and Cassandra has been kind, but she could not make any of them understand. She had tried to weather the emotions Cullen stirred in her, determined to outlast the impossibility of having feelings for a man put so far out of her reach by past and present circumstance.

But her mind won’t let her rest. It turned over, and paced, and snapped at her heels until it went one sting too far and drove her out of her rest and into the rain, to his door, now bedraggled and shivering with the bravery drowned out of her at the last step. All she has to do is knock.

And what will she say? She already knows all the reasons why it’s a terrible idea, she’s recited the full list to herself often enough. Besides which, she must indeed be presumptuous to think their rally of book recommendations and a few games of chess in the garden mean that his feelings run along the same lines as hers. She imagines his rejection, imagines him laughing at her – or worse, pitying her – and her hand drops to her side. Her arms wrap around her own body. No, she thinks, better she fights this demon on her own rather than succumb. She’s survived worse.

Then again…

Her steps halt a few paces back towards the castle. He seeks her out, asks about her wellbeing. He searched for her through the snow after Haven and lets her hide away in his office when Josie crams Skyhold with too many noble visitors for comfort. And isn’t it always better to take the lid off a boiling pot, instead of letting the contents bubble over without control? So what if her feelings aren’t returned? She cannot control his actions, but she has always felt pride in her ability to control her own, and she has suffered enough shame to last a lifetime for things she cannot help. After a moment summoning courage, she turns, glares at the door, marches up to it to raise her hand again as the sheet of falling raindrops hiss onto the stone at her feet.

No. She can’t do it. The cost is too high. She’s a mage, and she’s nervous and standoffish and lacking in all social grace; the only thing special about her is the mark in her left hand. Water drips off her lashes and suddenly she’s glad for the storm, because her eyes sting and her throat is starting to burn and she is a fool but at least she is one out of sight of all the people who will snicker at her behind their hands. None of them really know how much of a coward she is, and if she leaves now, retreats back to the fancy tower room, they’ve given her, she can hide away until –

The door opens.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen halts in the doorway with an oilskin envelope in his hands and surprise hanging off his open mouth.

She must look like a used handkerchief. Her voice doesn’t work. She drops her gaze, drawing her arm back into her chest.

That startles movement out of him. He throws the packet in a vague direction behind him so that papers burst and scatter over the floor, and steps out across the threshold to gather her up against the rain before she an protest.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, closing the door. “Has something happened?”

Panicking, she can only shake her head.

“You’re soaked to the bone. here –”

She numbly allows him to guide her over to his desk chair, which he pulls out for her before bustling around the small room to tidy up. Dread fogs her mind, the rain still a roar in her ears. He’s seen her now, which means she can’t pretend she was never stood arguing with herself in a downpour, which means he’ll ask her why she’s here, which means –

“Will you be alright here for a moment?” he interrupts, in a voice timorous with concern.

Her head turns towards him, but she can’t unstick her gaze from the wall. For a moment longer, he hesitates, until he seems to decide that staying would be worse than going, and retreats up the ladder into his loft, which at least now has a barrier charm over it to keep out the weather. Her fingers tighten on soft wool and she realises he’s tucked his mantle around her shoulders before he left. It smells like him. His warmth is still on the collar, and her traitorous hands wrap it more tightly around herself as if she might hide in the depths of the red-streaked fur.

She could leave, sneak out. But then she would have to explain herself to him later, and she knows she won’t. She’ll avoid him, dodge around his gaze or simply escape to some Maker-forsaken part of Thedas until he gives up, and that will hurt him. He’d think he did something wrong.

The clatter as he drops from the ladder startles her, as does the waft of scent, oakmoss and elderflower, that enfolds her as he brings her blankets that must have come straight from his linen chest.

“You don’t have to –” she tries, but he’s already piling the soft wool around her. It seals in the wet with her, but she won’t deny it’s nicer than having the draughts of the room stealing what little body heat she has left.

And now he kneels before her, tugging his gloves off with his teeth and laying them aside on the desk so he can get at her hands to chafe them warm. The callouses on his skin rasp against her knuckles, the broad fingers disappear hers between them, but the touch is delicate, gentle, and she can’t take her eyes off the sight. A ribbon of water seeps through her drenched hair and trickles cold down the back of her neck.

“What’s happened?” he asks again, quiet.

Her heart trips against her ribs. “Nothing. I’m –” But finishing that sentence would admit too much.

Her halted answer brings a sigh from his lips, as if he’s steeling himself – or losing patience.

“Maighread…” He sucks in his bottom lip. “If something is troubling you, I would help if I can. If you would let me. And not only because you are the Inquisitor.”

The rain still lashes down, but inside this solid stone it’s less impressive, a futile bit of noise. Their hands are joined in her lap, just together, and he doesn’t seem to mind that hers are leaching warmth away from his. In the silence, his thumb makes a slow sweep along hers.

“Do you care for me?”

Her gaze stays rooted on their hands, but on the edge of her vision his head snaps up. Another bead of water escapes her hairline. This time it traces the contours down the side of her face, before it loses momentum in the corner of her mouth and gets stuck there. This sudden spark of bravery doesn’t even feel like bravery, with her hands cradled so as if she’s precious, but nevertheless it fizzles out just as quickly under the weight of his stare.

“I tried not to think about it – to wonder,” she excuses, shrinking. “I know we’re at war, and I’m the inquisitor, and there are so many bad things that might happen. Not to mention –”

He prompt is as tender as his hands. “What is it?”

I am such a fool.

“I’m a mage. You were a templar. I –”

It’s too much. Her throat closes up, her body holds itself so she can’t breathe and she has to squeeze her eyelids shut because he hasn’t moved and she wishes all at once that she had more courage, that she were anywhere else, that she could barricade herself off from the raw strength of emotions tugging her along like a pebble caught up in the tide.

Fingers curl under her chin.

“I didn’t think it was possible.”

The wonder in his voice forces her eyes open, and her heart rolls through her chest like thunder at the whiskey softness looking back at her.

“I… I’ve wondered a thousand times what I might say in this kind of situation,” he admits. “But I never thought I would ever get the chance.” A smile curls at the corner of his mouth as he sweeps a glance over her bedragglement. “Especially not on such a nice day.”

She huddles deeper into his blankets. “I didn’t know it was raining. I mean – I did, but I didn’t notice at first, and then –”

“I do care for you,” he interrupts, and her ramble stutters to a halt. “It seemed like too much to ask for, that you would return those feelings… but I want to.”

He’s leaning in, fingertips sliding along her jaw, waiting for her to pull away, but she doesn’t – can’t – because having him so close is overwhelming and her mind has fled to wonder if her shivering is because of the cold or because Cullen is about to kiss her. Their lips meet without fire – she is still half-frozen and he has chosen caution – but still her insides twist, her limbs tense as if with lightning. It doesn’t feel like last time she was kissed; Cullen’s focus is rapt on her, responding to her movements but not demanding more, and at the end she breaks away because if she doesn’t the tension thrumming in her chest will suffocate her completely.

But he doesn’t pull away. Their breath still mingles, his thumb strokes her cheek as she fights for steadier breath, his forehead pressed to hers.

“I care for you,” he repeats. Laughs. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long. I’ve wanted to tell you… I didn’t think you’d welcome it.”

“Cullen…”

“Mm?”

“What happens now?”

His smile fades. “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t expecting to get this far,” she stumbles, in her haste to reassure him. “I thought –”

She thought of rejection. Humiliation. And now that she’s been wrongfooted, all expectations scattered, a new kind of panic takes hold. Her hand has taken a vice-like grip on his. She has no idea what to do, how to act – what if she does something wrong, something unforgivable, what if something happens? Words have been spoken now and made the whole thing real where before she could have denied it and kept it hers alone, secret, impossible to be used against her.

“I care for you.” This is the third time he’s said it. “What do you want to happen now?”

Has anyone ever asked her what she wanted?

“I don’t know.” And it’s absurd. A bubble of laughter forces itself out of her chest, because she’s in his office, completely sodden, confessing her feelings as far as she can because actually saying it leaves her too vulnerable, and she feels so pathetic she could cry, and yet – and yet. “I – I’m cold.” It’s the only thing she can settle on.

“Then let’s warm you up before you catch a chill.”

He rises, practicality back in place now that he has a problem to solve, but as relieved as she is that some attention has been deflected from her, her traitorous heart skips in her chest because he’s still holding her hand.

--

kiss prompts

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Your own kind. (George Weasley x reader)

Request: Would you do a George Weasley imagine of him dating Slytherin girl in the Golden Trios year for almost a year (their anniversary is the night of the Yule Ball) and during a detention with Umbridge she tries to get the reader to break up with George since she should “stick with her kind”, even though the reader is friends with the Gryffindors, apart of Dumbledore's army and her family is apart of the Order which only strengthens their relationship?

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: mentions of blood, pain, Dolores Jane Umbridge should be a warning in herself. 

It had been more blissful than you’d initially thought it was going to be. Dating George Weasley, that is. You’d known him for a while; your parents were a part of the order and longtime friends of his parents. Despite being in Slytherin and two years below him, you and he had always gotten along well while you were at school. So well, in fact, that on the night of the Yule ball, George had confessed his true feelings for you. Feelings that you most certainly also had for him. Since then it’d been smooth sailing, you spent a lot of time at the Gryffindor table, not that that was uncommon for you. Everyday you and George seemed to fall for each other more. You were sharing every Hogsmeade trip, study hour and mealtime together, revelling in each other's company and when summer came, you kept in contact by owl daily. You’d been so excited to spend as much of George’s last year together when you’d come back on the first of September. 

Of course, you couldn’t know about the pink-clad monster that awaited you at Hogwarts. Umbridge quickly changed every little thing she could, seemingly just to make life hellish for students and staff alike until even the air in the castle seemed different: Heavy, quiet and always pungent with her overly sweet perfume. When she’d made it impossible for houses to mingle at mealtimes and you were forced to send disappointed waves to your friends at Gryffindor’s table instead of sitting with them like you usually did. George had reassured you that at least you could see each other between lessons. Then she’d banned girls and boys from being within six inches of each other (even though she was sure to separate anyone who as much as dared to sit with each other regardless of how close they were), banned girls from wearing trousers, forcing girls to wear skirts and extra pairs of stockings in the frigid Scottish winter. You and your friends were more than fed up when the DA was formed and you joined immediately, excited to finally have some time with your friends from Gryffindor, most of all George whom you’d rarely seen because of Umbridge’s apparent grudge against the twins, as they continued to retaliate her every rule with a new joke product from their fast-growing assortment. “Detention Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley! And you too miss Y/L/N!” Umbridge shrieked, still standing in the muddy slush that had come from Fred dropping their newest product: The portable swamp in the corridor of the fourth floor, “But Y/n wasn’t in on it!” George replied, stepping in front of you, “If you want us to sit in detention, that’s fine but she shouldn’t be punished for something she didn’t do!” behind him, you tugged at his sleeve, “George, please it’s fine. It doesn’t matter,” you whispered in an attempt to soothe your boyfriend’s rising temper but he yanked his arm free and crossed it with the other instead, not backing down from Umbridge’s glare, “I’m so sorry, Mr Weasley, but I find it very hard to believe that she was not involved in whatever has happened here, given that she was clearly with you when it happened,” Umbridge said, managing a stiff smile, “Pardon me, professor, but I don’t think you are sorry,” George said with a hardened expression on his face. At this point the tension in the corridor was so intense that you wanted nothing more than to drag George away in an attempt to escape whatever unpleasant consequences that were to come from all this. Umbridge looked as if she was about to explode for a fleeting moment before a twisted, blissful smile appeared on her face, “I think we’ll make that a weeks detention for the lot of you since you haven’t seemed to learn your lesson yet,” Umbridge said, “Y/n can start hers immediately,” she said, “I’ll see you in my office in fifteen minutes, miss Y/L/N,” She says, beginning to make her way out of the swampy water that was now up to her ankles, “Do not be late.” After George escorted you up to Umbridge’s office, using a long list of words his mother certainly would not approve of to complain about Umbridge’s punishment, you’d kissed him goodbye and promised him that it really wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t long between you being let in by Umbridge, who had changed into a different though just as horrid set of vibrant pink robes, to you having the dreaded Black quill in your hand, scribbling the same sentences over and over, your hand’s old scar from your last detention being scratched open. You tried not to wince while you felt a warm drop of blood trail down the side of your hand, the cuts burning more intensely with every letter you wrote, “Your relations to Mr Weasley,” her words make you look up in surprise, normally she didn’t speak to you when you had detentions with her, she mostly just watched and sighed with content at every hiss of pain that escaped you, “I take it they are not entirely platonic?” she asks. Her back is turned to you as she stands by her window, looking out into the rainy evening, “He’s my boyfriend, professor,” you say in a quizzical tone, where on earth was this going? “Yes, well I think it would be best if you stopped seeing him for the foreseeable future,” Umbridge said, “I think it would be most beneficial for you to stick to your own kind in Slytherin house where such aggressive and barbaric exploits are more frowned upon, I would hate to see such a promising young woman be persuaded into the ranks of troublemakers with no future prospects, such as Mr Weasley and his brother,” she says in her saccharine voice. You sit and stare at her, eyes bulging in shock at her words. You don’t know how to react for a moment, before the anger inside you registers, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, professor, but I’m afraid I can’t do that,” You say, “Not only do I not particularly get along with “my own kind” as you so put it but I actually happen to prefer and even love spending my time doing such aggressive and barbaric exploits because at least it’s not submitting to the tyranny you’ve been holding down on us all since you’ve arrived,” you’ve risen from your seat, your fist clenched around the hem of your school bag causing it to ache and bleed more profusely but you hardly sense it, your face is burning with fury and though you’re shaking with fear and adrenaline of standing up to Umbridge, you feel a greater need to say what you’ve longed to say since the beginning of the year, “and I’m sorry, Dolores, that you’re so blinded by your hatred and your bigotry that you refuse to see beyond what your narrow little mind sees as valuable, because if you could, you’d see that troublemakers like the twins have bigger ideas and broader prospects than any of your little inquisitor’s squad have,” and with that you turn on your heel, knocking over her chair, and leave as quickly as possible. As soon as you exit Umbridge’s office you break into a sprint, nearly falling over when you turn a corner and almost bump into George, he looks puzzled that you’re already out but at the distinct clicks of Umbridge’s heels coming down the hallway behind you, you grab him and break into a run again. George, who’s developed a good radar for being on the run from authorities, doesn’t question you and easily keeps up with you as you run down a familiar set of corridors until you reach the door to the room of requirement, though when you burst through it you don’t find the DA’s headquarters but a normal supply closet, just big enough for the two of you to squeeze inside. “What was that about?” George asks, breathing heavily, you take a few steadying breaths before answering, “I may or may not have told off Umbridge just now,” you say, making George grin, “and I may or may not have knocked over her chair and stormed out before she’d excused me,” “oof,” George says suppressing a laugh, “I can’t say I feel bad for her though, the old bat deserves a lot more than being told off,” he says, “what’d she do to make you say something?” “She said I should stick to my own kind,” you reply, “instead of hanging out with you,” “And what did you say?” his smile widens, “That there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to give you up,” you step closer to him, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, “at least not for her sake,” George presses another kiss to your lips while his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer, “Well that’s good to know because I’m not going going anywhere without you either,” he says, “on that note, you should come with me,” “George,” you start, it wasn’t the first time he’d suggested that you should leave with him, “I know, I know but you and I both know you’ll be happier if you come with us. You can be the first lady of the shop if you want?” he says, giving your waist a squeeze, “live with us above the shop, what do you say?” he begins to lean down, his face millimetres from yours when a set of footsteps approaching causes you to jump. You both freeze as Umbridge’s heels trot by followed by a shuffle of several feet, “I want you to search the entire castle if you have to! I have never heard such slander from a student until now, just wait until Cornelius hears about this she’ll be sorry, her and those twins!” Umbridge’s shrill voice rings through the corridor as she continues down the hallway and eventually, the scuttle becomes fainter until it completely disappears. You turn to George, shock painted on your face, “You know what? Leaving early doesn’t sound so bad after all.”

[purplebass]

Dark Light - Last Chapter // Blackdale

Hi everyone! Thank you for reading this. It was the first multi-chapter fan fiction I finished, so this is a great accomplishment for me. I really hope you enjoyed this. I loved writing it, and I hope you will also check out my work in the future. Enjoy, and thank you!!! 🥺🌼✨

Couple/Characters: Blackdale, Lucie Herondale and Jesse Blackthorn Rating: T

10. Last Chapter + Epilogue

There wasn’t time to do anything, because the moment they took Tatiana Blackthorn away, they also asked for Lucie and Jesse to come back to London. It is probably temporary, Lucie thought, since they just needed them to testify against the woman. Deep down, she wanted to return to the Institute for good. Maybe it was too early to hope that the Clave would change their mind about their exile. She didn’t want to keep her hopes up for them to be crushed again, so she didn’t hope for anything.

That night, she enjoyed Cordelia’s company in front of the fire. The others had left already, and they had taken Jesse with them. She knew he would stay at uncle Gabriel’s house, and the thought comforted her, but she wished she could have a moment to speak with him. She was curious, but also afraid of what he might have to say about her confession. 

Had she been impulsive? Definitely. She had harbored these feelings for so long, deep in her heart, but she had never given them a proper name. Or probably just ignored them, thinking that they would just hurt her if she acknowledged them. But they were there, and couldn’t look away anymore. She wondered if things would change, once they returned to the Cornwall Institute.

“What are you thinking? Can’t you believe you’re home?” Cordelia asked, and grabbed Lucie’s hand. 

Lucie had been staring at the hearth. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening,” she apologized, and sighed. Bridget had brought them cookies when they arrived, and she took one from the plate. 

“You must be shook,” Cordelia said. “She might have killed you.”

“She wanted to kill her son,” her voice shook, and her shoulders sagged. “She tried to poison him.”

Cordelia gasped, and put a comforting hand behind Lucie’s back. “Now he is safe, though. Wait, Lucie,” she peered at her. “Do you love him?”

“Is it evident?” she wondered, and covered her face with her hands. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Cordelia continued. “I also love James.”

Lucie frowned for a second, but then she smiled at her friend. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, and grabbed Cordelia by the shoulders. “I knew you loved him.”

There was an unspoken, I wish you would have told me, between the two, but no one said anything. The most important thing was that the truth was out. 

 …

The following morning, Lucie woke up disoriented. Then she remembered, with a bitter laugh, that she was in her room at the Institute, and in her bed. She better enjoyed it while it lasted, she thought, and got ready to go downstairs to eat breakfast. She found everyone but her parents in the kitchen. Cordelia stood from her chair and came to hug her. James, who was talking to Matthew, waved at her. The former also winked at Lucie, and gave her a tight hug. 

“How are you doing, Lucie?”

“How are you doing, Matthew?” she cocked her head to the side, one eyebrow raised. 

“He’s okay, he’s okay,” James interjected, grabbing him by the shoulders. 

“I know how to talk, thank you very much,” Matthew said, sitting down in front of Cordelia. “Let’s talk later if we have time, shall we?”

“Whenever you want,” Lucie responded, and gave him a bitter laugh, wondering if that moment would ever come. She didn’t know how much time she had left before they would ask her to go back to Cornwall.

Bridget had prepared bread and butter pudding, which was Lucie’s favorite, and she enjoyed it to the very last bite while talking to her closest friends. James told her that Christopher and Thomas would get there in a few hours with Anna, whom she hadn’t seen in two months. No one said anything about Jesse. It was as if he didn’t exist, or if they didn’t mention him because he wasn’t part of their group.

Everyone was gathered in the drawing room, when her parents finally arrived. Yes, because her father had been screaming Lucie’s name so loud that it was impossible not to know they were back. Each one of the people present stopped whatever they were doing and looked at each other, frowning. They all knew Will’s antics, so it’s not like they were surprised.

“Uncle Will must be cheerful that Lucie is back,” Christopher said, and they all laughed, until Will stumbled in the room. His cheeks were red, as if he had raced there.

Lucie came near her father, concerned. “Papa, what’s wrong?” there was fear in her tone. Let’s hope he doesn’t say I have to go back.  Let’s hope he doesn’t say-

“Lucie, my dear!” Will beamed, and hugged his daughter. “They let you go!”

“Who let me go?” she questioned.

“Come on, I mean the Clave!” Will replied, glancing in Lucie’s eyes. “They decided that since you didn’t use the Black Volume after all, but just stole it, and caught the person who indeed used it in the past, they wanted to grace you with freedom. Of course, not just you. Tatiana’s boy has no blame either. On the other hand, he’s one of her victims.”

Tears welled up in Lucie’s eyes, and she couldn’t do anything but cry of joy on her father’s chest.

…

The following two weeks, they received news about Tatiana Blackthorn. She was put before the Inquisitor, tried with the Mortal Sword, and taken to the Silent City to be locked for the rest of her life. She hadn’t wanted to go to the trial, but she was asked to go as a witness. Tatiana not only admitted that she tried to kill her own son. She also planned to kill Lucie and take him away with her somewhere, and she enlisted a warlock to do that. Tatiana had uttered a name, but it later turned out to be a vagabond who lived in the slums. The warlock or whoever helped the woman might have been powerful and aware of what they were doing, if they were able to run away just like this. Lucie wondered if they ever found this person, but at this point, she did not care.

She wanted to know how Jesse was doing. Where was he, what were his thoughts. If he was feeling alone. Lucie decided to be bold and ask her mother casually over tea, the day after Tatiana’s trial. She couldn’t go on not knowing, especially after confessing her love to him. She had let two weeks fly and waited for a sign, which did not come. Was this his way to kindly reject her? She thought it wasn’t something he would do. He was too honest to just move on with his life and ignore her. If he didn’t feel the same about her, he would tell her.

“He’s decided to live at uncle Gabriel’s until he finds another place, that’s what your aunt Cecily told me,” Tessa said, sipping her white tea. “They are happy because they never got to know him, and now they can. Gideon and Sophie decided to take a trip back from Idris just so they can also spend time with him. I’m sure he’s surrounded by people who love him.”

Lucie nodded. “Yes, I’m sure it’s true.”

Once the tea was over, Lucie decided to go back to her room. She was inspired to write, or better. She hoped that writing would help her not think about Jesse. She wondered when it would be okay for her to visit him at the Lightwoods, without seeming too suspicious. They all knew that Jesse had stayed two months with her in Cornwall, but no one knew the extent of their relationship. They didn’t know they had known each other before he was revived, and that she had already developed feelings for him back then. She didn’t know how to handle all of this.

Lucie caught someone coming out of her father’s office on her way back to her room. If it wasn’t for the straight black hair, she would have thought it was her brother. But it wasn’t James. It was Jesse. She was too far to hear what they were saying, but she believed they were having a friendly conversation because she heard her father’s jovial laugh. 

She advanced. She hadn't seen Jesse for a few weeks, and her spirits soared upon seeing him.  It sounded like a repeat of her first stay at the Cornwall Institute, but in a different place. 

Both men turned to her when they heard her heels on the carpet. Jesse smiled slightly, and so did Will. 

"Lulu, good morning," her father said. She widened her eyes at the mention of her nickname from him. Her cheeks warmed, and she glared at him. “Lucie, good morning,” he said again, and made an apologetic smile. 

"I didn't know you had guests," she said, trying not to look too obvious when she gazed up at Jesse. She frowned at him, trying to let him know that she would have loved to know about what he had been up to. It hurt. It felt like he had been avoiding her, but perhaps he had just been busy with his found family. “You could have called for me.”

"I was surprised too, my dear," Will replied, and Lucie bit her lip. Was she too obvious? "Mr. Blackthorn came to personally bring us the invite for an informal ball at his house." 

"A ball?" 

"It's not a ball per se, but a party to celebrate my return," Jesse grinned. "I have decided to restore Chiswick to its splendor, with my uncles and aunts help. There is still so much to do, but I decided to start from the ballroom, which was the room which required less effort to tidy up." 

“I… see, and I’m glad to participate,” Lucie murmured. Those news lifted her mood. Warmth filled her chest, and their eyes locked for a long time, until her father cleared his voice.

“Alright, I believe Mr. Blackthorn has to go,” Will announced, and Lucie snapped back to reality, glancing away from the weird duo before her. “We will be honored to join you for this special event, next Saturday. I can’t wait to see Chiswick’s ballroom again, you know why,” he continued. Jesse nodded a greeting at Lucie before her father put an arm behind his back to lead him away from her. 

She asked herself why Jesse would know the reason her father wanted to see his ballroom again, but it probably had to do his and her mother’s past. She shrugged.

…

Saturday couldn’t come any sooner, but Lucie knew that time was slower when one was eager to do something they wanted. Lucie’s mother Tessa had taken her daughter to Bond Street to buy her a new dress for the event. It wasn’t the first time they had shopped for dresses together, and Lucie was happy with the suggestion because she had already deemed all of her clothes unfit for the occasion. She wasn’t vain, but she thought she needed a fresh start, and her mother agreed, so they spent more than they would normally do. This night would also celebrate the end of Lucie’s exile, and she wanted to look good.

And she thought she did. She chose an embellished satin blue dress with short sleeves, which complemented her eyes, and put her hair up. She reached Chiswick with her family, but once the carriage stopped, she ran off. No one said anything, since it wasn’t rare for Lucie to go inside and go find her friends. She caught sight of Cordelia, and she waved at her, but before she could reach her, Lucie muttered that she had to do something first. 

She had thought a lot during the last few days, and resolved that she needed to act. It was nor or never. She couldn’t wait for Jesse anymore to make the first step. If he would ever move, that is. She found him by the table filled with cocktails and food, speaking to a few people she couldn’t recognize. His eyes found Lucie’s in an instant, and he excused himself and went to her. She thought he looked amazing in his black and white evening suit.

“You came,” he said softly. “You’re late.”

Lucie rolled her eyes. She knew he was joking. “The people who count always come late,” she told him, smirking, and raised an eyebrow at him. 

He grinned. “Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter to talk,” he suggested, and Lucie followed him outside of the ballroom, which was in a separate wing of the building. 

There were a lot of people, she saw, all over the property. He must have invited the whole Clave. She was too distracted looking around that she shivered when he secured her hand in his and smiled warmly at her. 

They were walking on a path in between the grass, and Lucie realized that she had already been there in the past. Her suspicions were confirmed when they stopped in front of the greenhouse doors. He opened one for her, and she entered, ready to face the disruption she had seen the last time she had been there, but she was astonished when she saw the place looked entirely different from the way she remembered it. Most of the plants had been either cut or substituted by new ones, and fresh, colorful flowers grew at the sides of the greenhouse. Now it was bright and clean like she had never seen it before. A witchlight here and there lighted the ambient and made it look like some place out of a fairytale.

“Do you like it, Lucie?”

“It’s wonderful,” she commented, seeing how many types of plants were actually there. “How did you do this?”

“I called several gardeners, and-” he interrupted himself, because she was rolling her eyes at him. “Okay, I’ll stop humoring you, Lucie. I was saying-”

“Why didn’t you come to see me after we got back?” she interjected. She understood that he wanted to tell her about the greenhouse and how he had restored it, but she needed to talk about important matters first. “I thought you would come,” she murmured, trying not to seem too hurt. “I believed you would talk to me.”

“I also asked myself the same thing,” he admitted, and she thought he was honest. “I needed time, Lucie. Time to think. I thought about what I wanted to do with my future, now that my mother has been taken away. If I could live as a shadowhunter, or I would rather live as a mundane. Do you know that my father left me a hefty inheritance? I could sit down all day and do nothing for the rest of my life, and I would still have money to survive,” he chuckled.

“Exercise is important,” Lucie said, and they both laughed. 

“Yes, and not only that,” Jesse’s face turned serious. “It didn’t take me long to resolve what I wanted to do. The first thing I decided to dedicate myself to, was remodeling this house. I talked about it with my uncles, and they all agreed to help me with this. They are all incredibly nice and sweet, and I’m angry at my mother for lying about them. She said they were evil, and I even believed her. But now I know better,” he glanced at a cactus for a moment, and sighed. “Can you believe they said that they want me to keep Chiswick?”

“I do believe you, Jesse,” she nodded. She was aware of her uncles and aunts’ generosity. 

“The second thing I resolved to do, was trying to understand if I could be a shadowhunter. You know that my mother also forbade me to live this life, literally, and I told myself: you should do it if you want to do it. I still don’t know much about it, but I am a good learner.”

“Yes, you are,” she agreed again, and he smiled at her. 

“And if you’d help me, and you’d teach me, I’m sure I’ll get better in no time,” he said, and got closer to her.

“Of course I will help you. Of course.”

“Be with me, Lucie,” he took her hands in his. “Marry me.”

Lucie’s jaw dropped, and her skin flushed. Her heart would leap out of her chest if it could, she was sure. “But… don’t you believe it’s too early for this? I’ve just turned seventeen, we’re both seventeen, and…”

“We can wait until you are ready to make this step, but I can’t wait for you to give me an answer. I’ve lost seven years of my life already. I don’t want to lose more time and lose more occasions. I want to finally live my life,” he said with hope. 

It was an honest request.

“With me?”

“Why does it sound too weird to you, Lucie? I think my life gained color when I first met you. After then, it was a crescendo of hues. You let me live even when I couldn’t. I wouldn’t want to tie your life to mine, knowing that I was dead. I wouldn’t want to subject you to the fate of loving someone who couldn’t be the person you deserved by your side, because I was half-alive. I would have never confessed my feelings for you, had I stayed a ghost.”

“Do you… love me?” her voice shook, and tears started to well in her eyes. 

“Again, I wonder why does it sound impossible to you that I love you, Lucie?” Jesse asked, caressing her cheek tenderly. “I think I fell for you before I gave your brother my last breath. I thought I loved you because you were the only other person who could see me, but I was wrong. I waited for the night to fall so I could be with you. I missed you. I never developed any affection for anyone before you, and I realized it’s because you are special. And the Jesse Blackthorn who spent two months with you before I regained my memories knew it too.”

“Do you remember?”

“Yes, I remembered what happened after you brought me to life. I remember that I doubted you, but then asked for your help and you hid me while we figured how to get my memories back. I remember the first rune you drew on my arm when we entered this very house to bring the Black Volume back, and your shock when you saw me at the Cornwall Institute. I also remember our first kiss, and the way I fainted,” he laughed. “I already remembered after Magnus Bane finished performing that spell on me. I couldn’t place those frames at first, but then they clicked. Everything fell into place. And I… had to do something about it.”

“You organized a ball,” Lucie commented with a grin. 

“I wanted to celebrate my life… Selfish, isn’t it?”

“Nah, you deserve it, Jesse Blackthorn. You’re the least self-centered person I know, although you are arrogant at times,” she shrugged, and he frowned. “And I love you. I want to be with you as long as life allows us to be together.”

He beamed, and smiled widely. “Can I kiss you, Lucie?”

“You can kiss me anytime you want,” she replied. “And this, of course, goes both ways,” Lucie said, and she rose on the balls of her feet to kiss him before he would do it.

He gave her his family ring next, and slid it on her fourth finger. They agreed on telling the news to everyone that night, and Jesse confessed that her parents already knew. 

“That’s why I came to the Institute personally the other day,” Jesse told her as they returned back to the party. “I asked your father the permission to marry you.”

“And what did he say?” she asked, curious.

“He said that it was up to you. It wasn’t up to him to give me his permission. You were the only one who could accept or refuse my proposal. He added that if you said yes, he would know that I was worthy of you, because you would never choose somebody who didn’t deserve you.”

Lucie laughed. “Come on, let’s hurry. I think he is eager to find out what i said.”

...

EPILOGUE 6 Years Later

London, Spring 1910

 “And then, the princess exclaimed: I came to destroy you! You dared to make the prince fall into a deep sleep, and I’ll never forgive you for this!” Lucie exclaimed giddily, as she dressed her son in the green pants and white shirt she had chosen for the event they were throwing that night. Lucie believed the baby needed to shine as much as his parents, since this party was also for him. “No, you won’t crush me! You’re just a little girl!” she continued, and the baby laughed as she put on his socks and shoes. “I’m not a little girl!” she said in a different one of voice, pretending she was fifteen years younger than she was now.

“Is prince Theodore ready, my lady?” Jesse asked from the doorway, as Lucie finished the last touch on their son’s outfit, a cute dark green bow tie.

Theodore was a healthy two year old baby with Lucie’s brown hair and blue-green eyes. Not quite like the color of either of his parents, but more of a mix between the two. Perhaps it would turn into the Blackthorn-Herondale trademark color. Who knew.

“He is now,” she replied, and she turned her face to let her husband of four years kiss her on the lips. “And so am I, thanks for asking.”

“I helped you close the zip of your dress because it got stuck, earlier,” he winked, and grabbed his jacket from the chair, then picked baby Theodore from the changing table, and kissed his cheek. The baby giggled excitedly.

Lucie checked herself in the mirror one last time, then they went down at the top of the stairs outside to wait for their guests, as they usually did on such occasions. It was their fourth wedding anniversary, and they had made it a tradition to throw a party at Blackthorn Hall every year. Blackthorn Hall used to be Chiswick House. They thought it deserved a name change after they had restored the place, to symbolize its renovation and brand new life. 

They saw a few carriages approach, and Lucie smiled to herself. The party was about to begin.

“The zip of my dress didn’t get stuck,” she said out of the blue, continuing the conversation they were having inside. “I just gained weight on my stomach,” she glanced at him with a smirk.

Jesse frowned at first. “It’s okay Lu-” he said, then realized what she meant, and his eyes widened, filled with surprise but also joy. “Are you with child?” 

Lucie smiled lovingly at her husband. “Happy Fourth Anniversary, my love,” she told him, and he gave her another kiss.

“I wanted to wait later to give this to you, but since we’re here,” he said, and took a white envelope from his pocket and gave it to her. “It came in the mail this morning. It looks thick.”

She glanced at her husband with expectations and hope. “Let’s open it,” she muttered, and started reading as fast as she could. She was trying to finish before the carriages would get too close to the house. “By the angel, by the angel!”

“What does it say?”

“Mrs. Lucie Blackthorn, we are happy to inform you that we found your manuscript interesting and creative, and we look forward to working with you. We would love to publish your work as soon as possible. Please come to our office as soon as you can, to sign the contract. Sincerely, Parks of London Publishing House,” she said, and she started jumping on the spot. “They will publish my book!”

“Careful, careful, though,” he advised, putting an arm on her shoulder and kissing her head. “I’m so happy for you, my beloved. Happy anniversary.”

And they all lived happily ever after.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed, send me a PM): @princesslucretia @kit-12 @immortal-enemies @lucian-evander @esa-emery @danieldyers @blackthorn-trash @rinadragomir @fortunesandfables @itsdaughterofthemoon @silvenys@thomastair3 @livvyheronstairs @ holding-infinity-and-a-book @lovelaces @axoloteca 

[tarasylnin-lavellan]

Justice’s Decision

"You are not the hounds that I was expecting," balefully glowing blue eyes watched the pair from the trees.

"DIRTHAMENS SHADOWY BALLS DON'T DO THAT

!" Harel was near panicked by the sudden words. Cole turned to the source an exclaimed "Your here!" Tara stepped further into the weak dawn light painting her pale face in the washed out illumination. "You've come sniffing around for me, Da'len. Unfortunately, you've trekked all this way for nothing. You should leave before the inquisition truly comes bearing down its arms. I would not want to see you bloody your hands." Tara looked worn to the end of breaking and her hands shook as she rested one against a tree. "Because they will come, they will have too, they will come with dogs and armor; and I won't have them hunt you too you must run, run any direction but mine." 

Harel looked at the woman before her, eyebrows climbing in frank astonishment is this truly what she believed that a hoard of hunters was on her trail? "Are you daft? Mad? Tara we came here to find you to stop you from running away! No one is hunting you!" Tara's head snapped toward Harel and she flinched at the sudden movement 

"Not yet they aren't, not yet, you did get here remarkably fast however. I don't know how you found me so quickly, but for your own safety you have to run." Cole’s weak but insistent voice answered Tara's confusion "We found you when you didn't want to be found, we know you're hurting and we want to help. Please! Let me help!" Tara snarled deep in her chest an animal wounded near to madness " I didn't want to be found for good reason! You knew that Dalen, I won't have you hurt because of ME!" As the turmoil in Tara grew a deep blue light coiled out from her, darker than the previous time its darkness reflecting her own. "Just go..." the words were tired and sad. 

Cole and Harel stand side by side as Tara attempts to frighten the pair off, but they're stock still, their faces unchanging even as the blue wisps lick out at them threateningly. Harel watched the display meant to panic them "we're not leaving." Cole spoke softly hearing the desperate hurt in Tara the rents in her soul. "burdens break your back till your body aches. We will help carry. We must..." Tara face goes blank as she thinks of returning the pain too much. "I cannot go back, and I cannot stop them from hunting me you can't be in the path of danger not for me. No one else is dying because I was made into a weapon No one I. will. not. allow. it."  Harel started to feel an indignant anger rising in her this damned woman "WILL YOU PUT THAT STUPID FUCKING SELFLESSNESS DOWN FOR ONE SECOND!!! her fists clenched tightly in frustration "you are not a weapon, YOURE TARA! You're so much stronger than you think, please, please don't lose yourself!

Cole could feel the choking fear the panic coiling its hateful tendrils around Tara. "I don't like this. It feels cold, like wind before the storm." Harel held her hands out to Tara in supplication "no one's going to hurt you, please, just come back. No one will get you, well make sure of it please don't run away." Cole felt it then the old memory the screaming of a child taken by Hate. "There are no templars! No voices screaming! You don't have to run, shouting mamae. You don't have to.....

Tara felt herself losing control and gripped her head in dread. " They will follow you here, I made a mistake, I am a fool. I never should have allowed a Templar to love me, just even think that I was normal, that I was even close to worthy of being normal! Just go..." The light of her bound soul swirled darker wrapping close to her. Harel called trying to break the hold of the panic "you're a lot of things but a fool isn't one. you need to calm down, you're scaring Cole. And me, just a bit. You're not going to hurt us and we're afraid but we're afraid FOR you. Please. Calm down" Tara's eyes closed and tears streamed down her face "my fault, I am too blame, I knew better" she fell to her knees "I knew better. Cole felt the hurt old and jagged wrapped in layers of walls now exposed and screaming monster, a monster I am a monster. "don't drown in yourself. The lion roars in grief not in rage. Please. Don't hurt yourself, it's hurting us, hurting him." Tara choked on the fear on the hatred she felt inside " His eyes I CANT no... No I can't I just hurt people I can't" she curled around the pain "this is my fault." Cole reached trying to tug on the pain but it was so old so omnipresent that he couldnt tug it loose. "you're a sword and a scalpel and a shield. You don't hurt because you want to, like Erimond and Samson, you hurt because you have to. You protect and pretend to step above the thing in you, to be more than just the breath and the purpose. Stop hurting yourself!" A ragged sob tore from Tara "I hurt everything I touch! I cannot go back not now not ever, I cannot bear to the see fear in his eyes.... I cannot watch him break inside."  

Cole felt it within her the desperate need to be accepted for this to be a bad dream. Tara wanted to stay but she was so afraid of it she ran away. But one person was there, a light shining in dark forest of her mind. "breathe. This isn't you. It's the fear, the forgotten one speaking. You can't let it talk over you and control everything. You're losing yourself to what you think will happen. Lions roar but they don't bite without reason, the serpent curls around his paws and he's silent." He conjured the thought of Dorian like a Talisman, trying to calm her down.

Tara latched onto the one person she knew didn't fear her with the desperate strength of a drowning person. "Dorian? What could he say? how could he" Her eyes began to lighten in color with her brothers mention. Cole reached for it pulling the threads in her "he shouts over the noise of the old songs, the trauma of the circle, the fires in Kirkwall. He screams instead of hissing, his love and his hate all so that the lion knows, knowledge dripping like sweat when you held him, shaking craving the blue song. He learned its name and now the lion has a shape on his tongue to call your eyes." Tara stares at the boy in desperate, sad, hope mute. But the light has returned to crystal blue and slowed curling around her like mist again. Cole reaches for the hurt and speaks "Put your sword down, the scales don't have to fill with blood. You fear the inevitable even when it isn't to be. It's ok to fear, to be afraid of what might happen, but it won't." Cole stares forward, ice blue eyes unmoving and unblinking as if he speaks to Tara and yet, not to her at all. As if he speaks to someone else entirely "Don't be afraid but don't be angry. You're safe, Da'len."

Tara wanted to believe, she needed to believe but everything she had ever learned told her otherwise. She whispers "How could he ever see past..." Cole watched her with sadness in his eyes "Monsters are real, he's seen them before. He needs to look again, like a mouse who's lost its tail to a trap, he needs to see, to know that it's not the same. Love is love and you'll give him back his tail." Tara knelt trying to pull the frayed pieces of her mind back together. Her mothers voice spoke in her heart, and she looked up "I cannot go back to the castle, not until I know,  I cannot trap myself there." Cole watches as she tries to accept a new path and his voice is firm for once "we'll protect you. You won't be trapped, I promise. And if you are then...." Harel stepped up next to Cole face still and stoic for once "then we'll let you leave for good and we won't follow you. We'll even keep those people off your trail. Just....trust us."  

Tara knew the path she had to take not returning and not fleeing. She had to try, she had to give him a chance, as terrifying as that was. "if he... wants answers that's his right but, he has to meet me outside of that place. My mother would kill me if I walked into a cage willingly." Cole nods feeling the old memories "Hands on my shoulder she raises her voice, but not to frighten to lecture. Don't let the shem keep you in submission. We are the People, and never again shall we submit. Eyes stern but loving, she would reprimand me if I allowed myself to be foolish." Tara nods looking at the pair decision firming in her eyes. "He can meet me, alone, in the Emerald Graves I will wait."

Harel watches as Tara breathes heavily, her purple eyes for once wide in fear instead of narrowed in disinterest. It was a shocking sight to see one so strong reduced to this mess but it was understandable. She walked this thin line, always keeping her guard up. Now that she was tired, it was only natural for her to regress. "You've chosen an interesting place, Hah'ren. May the grave of Mahariel give your conversation the strength to pull through this. Would.....would you like one of us to stay?" Tara shook her head staggering to her feet "No, no. This must be seen to alone. But thank you. I have to face him by myself."

Cole watches as he always does with his moping face drawn low, sad to leave Tara alone after such suffering. The Inquisitor could see the pain in his eyes like a wounded Halla. Tara looked at the young man "it has to be alone Cole if...if things go badly I want to.. I want it to be alone I will go there and wait This has to be done right."

Cole nods, his hat dipping down in a short stroke and never once turning upwards. Harel comforts the boy with a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back from his sadness of leaving the Inquisitor alone. "We're here" it is all he says before he shimmers a light green, disappearing into the darkness to find his way towards Skyhold.

Harel shakes her head, an eyebrow raised as she mutters, "Love how he expects me to keep up with his invisible ass." Its the last thing Harel says that barely draws a smirk from Tara. Just barely. The trees gather around the storm mage as she bids her companions goodbye, setting off with the same heavy heart but so much less apprehension. She makes her winding way to the heart of the vast forest feet silent on the ground. She is a phantom in this place, her path undecided. As night falls around her the shadows dull the sharpened edges of reality. she sets up camp on a high rock bluff in the great trees the song of the branches soothing and sad. Let this be the place she thinks if I have to go with Falon'din let it be here.

Cole and Harel return to skyhold quickly leading the disgruntled Hart with them. Dorian bustled through the crowd his face drawn and afraid. "please PLEASE tell me that you didn't lose her."

Harel folds her arms, appraising the worried Tevinter before speaking "She's fine and safe and super fucking rattled. But safe. She wants to meet Cullen in the Emerald Graves; her territory instead of here since you know....its kind of uninhabitable to her at the moment. Dorian lets a whoosh of held breath at the words of the half breed. "She is alive, and she is thinking at least." Cole interrupts the thought though pushing past Harel the Qunari-elf is confused at the sudden movement before he starts speaking as well. His voice is tinged with emotion as he mimics Harel's voice "I'll kill that curly haired bastard Ill shock his shit for what he's done the fucking templar!" Dorian lunged forward covering the boys mouth with his hand. Leveling a glare that could've frozen the sun at Harel he hissed "stop thinking in such vulgar terms!" Cole subsided and Dorian stood thinking "Now.....She wants to meet him in the Graves? Oh Isa'ma'lan, you make everything so planned, don't you. I've tried doing as much damage control as I can from here but...I suppose we'll have to trust what Tara will do next is the right thing. Kaffas, she worries me so."

Dorian strode alone heading for the Commanders Tower, better from him after all. Pushing open the door he sees Cullen standing behind his desk hands braced on its surface his face drawn and haggard. At the mages approach Cullen's head snaps up a worried flash in his eyes. "Is there word?!" Dorian held up a manicured hand "Pack you essentials, if you want to speak to Tara, she wants you, and you alone, in the Emerald Graves. I don't have to say do not try anything after that little talk we had, now do I?" Cullen blinks his brow furrowing "why didn't she come back here?" Dorian rolled his eyes in exasperation "The tactician that you are should know the reason. Come here, where you are? After your terrible reaction? She probably thinks you'll try to kill her and we both know how much that will hurt the both of you. At least out there, there's control in the place she feels strongest.

All right my lovelies one more chapter to this whenever I can bully my sad tired artists brain into making more ✨words✨

after that I will put all of them together into one continuous story line 

as always all the love and thanks in the whole world to @w-h-4-t for the dialog help Ir lath ma Da’len 

[tevivinter]

Coup de grace

Rating: T

Words: 3838

Summary: During the events of Halamshiral, Marel meets a rather unique guest that offers him a mutual alliance of sorts.

Marel searched the ballroom with tired eyes, not once bothering to hide his sour mood. It had been only an hour or two since the Inquisition’s arrival at Halamshiral, but Creators, that already felt like an eternity ago. Even with Josephine's warnings, Marel couldn't have possibly imagined how insufferable those Orlesian nobles would come to be.

He could hear the venomous whispers everywhere, like he was stuck in a pit full of snakes. Bunny. Savage. Knife-ear. Some guests would even say that to his face - such as Gaspard himself - and yet he couldn’t do anything but listen. Such words caused him to clench his fists, eyes burning with unspoken rage as he forced himself to remain calm.

"Keep doing that, Boss, and you'll dig a hole into their heads." Bull stood at Marel's side with his arms crossed, causing the fabric of his formal wear to strain almost desperately against his large build. "It's a good thing you're not a mage, otherwise half the guests would be on fire at this point."

"I haven't met a single one that hasn't spoken shit to me." Marel muttered, his jaw set as he watched the crowd. He could feel the weight of other people's eyes on him as well, their ornate masks doing little to hide their judgemental looks. "I can't wait to get out of here," Marel grunted before glancing at Bull. The qunari's expression was nearly unreadable - something that didn't come out as a surprise - but he seemed to be focused on something. Or maybe someone. "See anything interesting?"

Bull gave him a small nod. "There's a guy that keeps showing up whenever you're around." His attention finally shifted towards Marel, his tone way too casual for what he was about to say. "You're being followed, Boss."

Marel frowned, lowering his voice so that no one else could hear them. "Leliana didn't mention any spies, but I wouldn't be surprised if Celene or Gaspard sent someone after me."

"Nah. The guy is an elf and his clothes are too fancy. No spy would want to attract that much attention." Bull concluded. Marel was about to ask more questions when Bull interrupted him, slightly pointing forward with his head. "He's coming."

Marel barely had the time to look at the right direction before an elf approached them.

"It's an honour to finally meet you, Inquisitor." His voice was like melted chocolate, warm and inviting, a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. Streaks of pale blond hair framed his face when he gave Marel a respectful bow. "May I have a moment of your time?"

Marel stared at him with a frown. Bull was right - there was definitely something different about that guy. For starters, he was far too well-dressed to be a servant. Intricate silver patterns decorated his purple jacket as well as his trousers, giving him an almost regal look that was fit for a noble. On top of that, an elegant white mask covered the upper half of his face, its edges vaguely resembling bird feathers.

What caught Marel's attention, however, were the pink eyes staring at his direction. They were unflinching and alluring in equal measure, and Marel couldn't bring himself to look away from them.

"Who are you?" He asked sharply.

"Forgive my manners,” the elf said with an elegant flourish of his hand. "You may call me Cadence for the moment. I'm a bard from Val Royeaux."

[continue reading on ao3]

[bigfan-fanfic]

Heskan Aeducan as a Companion

(Face Claim: Can Yaman) - Okay, I really wanted to do this because Heskan is basically the hot romanceable dwarf we’d all deserve in Inquisition. He uses the Dwarf Noble Origin and has the Spirit Warrior specialization, using it as an archer.

Hope y’all like him! Feel free to romance him, haha!

Inquisitor’s Name: Heskan “Hess” Aeducan

Race, Class, & Specialization: Dwarf Archer Warrior (Spirit Warrior)

Varric’s Nickname for them: Feathers

Default Tarot Card: The Chariot

How they are recruited: He joins automatically if you talk to him at the gate leading to the bridge in Skyhold; a cutscene triggers where he and Leliana are speaking and she vouches for his skill and he offers aid to the Inquisition.

Where they are in Skyhold: Aiming his bow over the battlements, taking potshots at trees in the distance.

Things they Generally Approve of: Pragmatic options, manipulating nobles, recruiting prisoners

Things they Generally Disapprove of: Letting prisoners go, executing them, dismissing Sera from the Inquisition, hitting Solas or Dorian

Mages, Templars, Other?: Heskan comes from Orzammar, and is really tired of having to deal with this whole surface conflict, especially as darkspawn get closer and closer to overrunning his people. That said, he prefers the mages. Templars he doesn’t trust.

Romanceable?: Yes, by any gender or race.

Friends in the Inquisition: Cole, Vivienne, and Iron Bull - Heskan and Varric have a not-quite-friendly rivalry.

Small side mission: Run around Skyhold collecting a stray arrow each time you return to Skyhold. 9 arrows altogether, every 3 arrows earns you a Heskan Greatly Approves.

Companion quest: Heskan wants to know if he is accessing the Fade through his Spirit Warrior specialization and asks the Inquisitor and Cole to help him, sleeping in front of them so they can test it. Cole mentions that Heskan is actually afraid of finding out the truth. After he wakes up, the Inquisitor has two options. Neither option impacts the ability to romance him.

Option 1: Lie and say no. This will net Disapproval from Solas and Approval from Cole and Heskan. Heskan seems relieved to learn that he is not upending all the rules for dwarfs and talking to him later reveals he is a little concerned because he’s been getting fragments of dreams, but nothing else comes of this. 

Option 2: Tell the truth. This will net Slight Disapproval from Cole and Great Approval from Heskan. Heskan admits that the idea of breaking all the rules for dwarfs and magic is frightening, but he is thrilled to consider this (if a Dwarven Inquisitor replies they feel the same way, they can earn extra approval). Talking to him later reveals that he has come to terms with accessing the Fade and he wants to attempt speaking with the spirit he has bonded with.

Tarot card change

Option 1: The Chariot (reversed)

Option 2: Knight of Pentacles

Cole’s reflection on their thoughts: “The smile should not have to be my mask, but it serves its purpose, bright and blinding as I bleed from the wounds in my back.”

Comment(s) on Mages: “Poor sods. I’d be pretty tired too if someone shut me up in a tower all my life and didn’t let me breathe wrong.”

Comment(s) on Templars: “We trade these people lyrium and we don’t care where it goes... but seeing what happens to them... I wonder if it’s worth it.”

When looking for something: “Did somebody hear that?”

When finding a campsite: “Care to kick up your feet for a while, Inquisitor?”

When the Inquisitor Falls: “Hurry, save the Inquisitor!”

When they are low on Health: “Hello? Archer needing help over here?”

When they see a Dragon: “You’re gonna go fight that thing, aren’t you?

Default saying: “Sort of brisk out here, isn’t it?”

Travel Banter with Canon Companions of your choice:

Heskan: So, Varric. Varric: (Sighs) Hello, Feathers. Heskan: You don’t like me much, do you? Varric: One handsome dwarf archer is enough for a good story. You’re a bit superfluous. Heskan: Don’t spare my feelings or anything...

Vivienne: Tell me, Prince Aeducan. What are you doing on the surface? Heskan: Madame Vivienne, please. You may call me Prince Heskan. Varric (if present): (Disgusted noise.) Vivienne: That wasn’t an answer, Prince Heskan. Heskan: No... no it wasn’t.

Heskan: Varric? Varric: (Sighs) What is it, Feathers? Heskan: Oh, I apologize. You must be trying to find a way to describe me other than “exceptionally ugly.” Varric: So you read The Tale of the Champion, huh? Heskan: If anything, I’d say that only one of us uses chest hair to distract from our sorry faces. Varric: “Hideously ugly and arrogant” it is, then. Heskan: Lazy writing!

Cole (after Heskan’s personal quest is complete and he is told the truth): She says hello. Heskan: She? She who? Cole: I don’t know... she’s you. (if made more human) I used to see her better. Heskan: Oh. Could you... could you tell her thank you? Cole: She knows. Heskan: Thank you, Cole.

Friendship?: “Hello there, love. Miss me?”

Leaving the Inquisition: “I’m not fond of the way you’re running things here. If you don’t shape up, I’d rather be sucked up into the Fade than hang around here.”

The Fade

How they react: “Well... this is different. Not sure I should really be here, actually.” Their Tombstone: Betrayal What the Fears look like: His dead brother Trian What the Nightmare says: “Ah, the murderer-Prince of Orzammar. Have they forgiven you for killing your brother yet? Or do you think they’re waiting for the right time to strike?” Their reflection about the Fade: "Yeah, I’m not so sure I enjoyed that.” Hawke or Warden: Has worked with both, Disapproves if Hawke or Alistair is left behind. Greatly Approves if Loghain is left behind. Approves if Stroud is left behind.

The Wardens

Their feelings: Respects the Wardens, being a veteran of the Fifth Blight and working with the Hero.  Exile or Allies?: Allies

The Ball

How they feel: “Smile, love. We’ve got a role to play here, so stay guarded.” Where they linger: Outside the door to Gaspard’s balcony Are they good at the Game?: Very much so. What people say about them: “Oh, that dwarven Prince is such a good dancer!” “Tall for a dwarf, isn’t he?” Gaspard, Briala, or Celene?: Prefers Briala through Gaspard

Temple of Mythal

Rituals or Hole?: Hole Agree with the Elves’ bargain?: Agree. Morrigan or Inquisitor for the Well?: Morrigan

Comments on Canon Romance

Cassandra: “Personally, the Seeker frightens me. But if you’ve chosen each other, I can tell she’ll be true.” Dorian: “Treat him well, Inquisitor. He’s been through enough in his life, I can tell.” Sera: “Hah, fun for all, eh? She’s a firecracker, she is.”  Iron Bull: “Heh, he’s a fun one. If you two weren’t together...” Josephine: “Ah, Lady Montilyet. A fine woman indeed. You’re lucky, Inquisitor. They don’t come much sharper than her.” Cullen: “Ah, I’ve met Cullen a few times before. He’s... he’s a better man than I once knew, I’ll say that.” Blackwall: “I’m definitely not qualified to judge. But he’ll treat you right, Inquisitor.” Solas: “Well, to each their own.”

Sexual/Racial preference: Panromantic. Any race.

Nickname for PC: My sweet

Romance only mission: Heskan asks the Inquisitor to accompany him to Valammar, where he has heard rumors of trouble brewing. The party is ambushed by Endrin loyalists who want Heskan dead for the alleged killing of his brother ten years ago. Afterwards, Heskan explains the details of his murky past, including why he killed his brother, and how he has always had to look over his shoulder. Choosing the dialogue response “Maybe I could look for you” locks in the romance, and Heskan expresses awe and joy that their casual flirting actually meant something.

Dialog to being asked for a kiss: “How could I refuse you, my sweet?”

Halamshiral dialog: “Just keep up that pretty smile of yours, my sweet. I promise I’ll put a real one on your face once the party’s over.”

Being asked to dance during mission: “As much as you want. Once this business with the Empress is over, of course.”

Asking to dance post-mission: “Come here... you’ve done so well tonight. If I can help you relax... I am honored.”

What Cole says about companion to PC: “The smile... it used to be false. Fake, fleeting, like feathers in the wind. But now... he is safe, secure...his sweet is here.”

Who is concerned about the relationship?: Varric, Cullen

Who supports the relationship?: Josephine, Leliana, Vivienne, Dorian

Who had a bet running on it?: Blackwall, Iron Bull, Sera

Banter(between NPCs):

Varric: So... you and the Inquisitor? Heskan: Ha, I never figured you for the jealous type, Varric. Varric: I - that’s... ugh.

Vivienne: A well-made match, my dear Prince. I congratulate you. Heskan: For once, Madame, I was not considering politics. Vivienne: Nonsense. Matters of the heart are just as political as anything else. Heskan: (chuckles) I suppose that on that count, we agree.

Iron Bull: So, are you a one-lover dwarf, or can I expect you again? Heskan: Why, Bull, you know I’ll never forget that magical night... Sera (if present): Ewww! How would that... oh. Fingers. Heskan: BUt in any event, you’d have to ask my sweet one. (The Inquisitor can respond favorably or unfavorably) Favorably Inquisitor: You could... if you don’t mind my presence. Iron Bull: The more the merrier! Heskan: My sweet, the Bull makes an excellent footrest. I’ll have to show you... Unfavorably Inquisitor: Sorry, Bull. He’s mine. Heskan: And I need no other lover. 

Flirt options: Upon meeting (gains Slight Disapproval from Varric), and at almost every interaction. Flirting with him enough unlocks his romance quest without needing to gain higher approval

Break up dialog:

If PC breaks it off: “I understand. It was fun while it lasted, though, eh? I’ll see you around, my - er, Inquisitor.”

If NPC breaks it off(and why): “I... I can’t condone what you’re doing, my sweet. I wish it could be different. I wish I could help you... but I cannot.” (Low Approval breaks off the romance)

Love confession: Heskan takes the Inquisitor walking along the battlements. “I... I never really thought I would find anyone who truly cared... but with you... I feel safe. I feel like... I could be happy.” The Inquisitor can flirt with him, which leads to a sex scene and lazy kissing in the Inquisitor’s bedroom, or say they love him, which leads to him pulling them to him with his bow string and kissing them deeply. “Then I am yours as long as you will have me, my sweet.” In either event, the Inquisitor can ask for a kiss or ask to “take a long walk,” which will result in a brief implied sex cutscene with a shirtless Heskan leaning over to kiss the Inquisitor in their bed.

Romanced tarot card: King of Pentacles

End game dialog: “You’ve done it. Beaten the villain, slain the dragon. I wish I could tell you it gets easier from here... but no matter what, I will be at your side, my sweet. Always.”

[generallynerdy]

Maybe it does all add up to a single hush (Kanan Jarrus/Cal Kestis)

Summary: 15 years after the Fall, 10 years after the death of Caleb Dume, Kanan Jarrus and Cal Kestis find each other again.

Warnings: Jedi: Fallen Order Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, cursing, brief suicidal ideation/thoughts Word Count: 5,143

Author’s Note: the effort I had to put in not to make this another series...I had to stage an intervention for myself. Anyway, I love Cal and Kanan’s dynamic, whether as partners or as friends, and an Idea struck me that wouldn’t leave. Also, idk how old most people think Cal was when the war ended based on JFO clips, but I always just kind of went with him being the same age as Kanan at the end of the war bc I love them and I need them to know each other. The title is from the poem “So They Say— They Finally Nailed— The Proton’s Size— & Hope— Dies—” by Rosebud Ben-Oni.

Read On AO3

*

When the hard part is over, Cal returns to Bracca, his new lightsaber tucked under Cere’s old robe that still smells like the Temple, with the intention of burning Prauf’s body.

Caleb still had his own robe. He kept it in the deepest part of their shared closet, bringing it out only on the worst days. If Prauf saw it, he never mentioned it, and both boys were grateful for it. There was a lot he didn’t mention.

Cal thinks, sometimes, that Prauf knew who they were before. After all, it’s hard to look at two abandoned kids in the wake of the Clone Wars that can survive being riggers and not think of the thousands of Jedi younglings that died on Empire Day. It’s even harder to ignore two lightsabers and one ratty, brown robe.

Maybe Prauf wasn’t sure.

But he had to be, on that last day, when they found that fighter. When Cal caught him with the Force. He knew then, maybe before. But he still took care of them.

Maybe he knew when the Empire showed up, when Caleb heard the roar of a TIE Fighter and looked instantly to the redheaded boy beside him like he was about to die before his eyes. Maybe that was the moment he put it all together. Or was it his last moment? When the world began to go dark and both Cal and Caleb lashed out in fury at his killers with matching, bright blue blades—did he know? Did he know that he died for the children of an already dying Order?

Standing over the bonfire, Cal holds the Holocron in shaky hands.

Did Prauf know his sacrifice would save the life of every child just like them?

Cal moves away from the flames to the gap in the ground that they’d held Caleb over, his calloused hands clawing at the Ninth Sister, who clutched his throat.

Deep in Cal’s heart, he knows half the reason he beat her was for his best friend. He’d almost given in to rage but stopped himself at the memory of him. Revenge is not the way of the Jedi. But justice is. And so is survival, these days.

Caleb’s lightsaber fell long before he did. When he did fall, he went screaming bloody murder, the noise echoing in the silence that rang in Cal’s ears.

Standing at the edge now, Cal almost considers simply...stepping off.

He can survive it. He has before. And what’s to say that Caleb isn’t waiting at the bottom?

Caleb...used to like animals, he remembers. He preferred them to plants, which are unreadable if you don’t have practise with them. Animals, like people, are complex but tell you in simple terms what they want and what they don’t want. Cal has always been better with plants. They’re simple, grounding, natural. Caleb used to tease him for it.

The only plant he ever managed to grow on this place was a seedling in a boot filled with dirt he kept in their room. It had been making good progress in their last weeks, enough that he’d actually felt some semblance of hope.

And then...and then he’d lost everything. Again.

The Holocron burns in his hand, reminding him that there is more in store for him than an endless chasm. Hundreds of thousands of Force-sensitive children are depending on him now, him and the Mantis crew.

Cal lets out a shaky breath. “I couldn’t save you,” he whispers to the wind. “But maybe I can save them.”

On the way back to the Mantis, he turns around to go find the robe and the plant in its boot. The robe smells like blaster fire and the plant is wilting but both are comforting: one because it’s familiar and the other because it’s not quite gone yet.

*

Kanan changes his name.

It doesn’t feel right, hearing his given name from anyone that isn’t Cal or Prauf. The first and only time it happens, nausea sinks in and he quickly makes the change.

Some days, he wants to go back to Bracca. Some part of him still hopes Cal survived the Inquisitors, that he’s waiting for him back at what used to be home, but the logical part of him knows that he’s not. Kanan surviving was a miracle, a fluke, and those don’t happen twice. Sometimes he wishes it had never happened at all.

He managed to save his lightsaber, as broken to bits as it was. It and the necklace Cal gave him are all he has now.

Kanan doesn’t let himself grieve, as much as he knows he needs to. He hardly did it before, on Bracca, but now he won’t allow even a tear. Surviving is the only thing on his mind, though for what he doesn’t know.

When he almost loses that little piece of metal on a string, though, he breaks down sobbing.

It’s the stupidest thing, really. All those lessons on attachment are lost on him now, as he cries over the rusted symbol of the Jedi Order on a piece of scrap metal that Cal had put on a cord for him. He keeps it close to his heart, hanging off his neck every hour of every day if he can help it, and getting that close to losing it is the last straw.

He knows now, why he’s surviving. Because Cal would want him to.

Meeting Hera is a relief. She’s kind but curious, which is more of a bane than it should be.

(Painfully, he’s reminded of himself as a youngling. His Master always said his frequent questions were what drew her to him.)

She’s the first to know about his past, both as a Jedi and a rigger on Bracca. He doesn’t think to mention Caleb, doesn’t think it would matter to anyone, not until after a mission gone bad.

Hera is putting bacta on his wounds and graciously ignoring his constant wincing when she sees it.

She points to the cord after examining what hangs on it for a minute. “For someone who’s trying to be discreet, you wear a lot of Jedi stuff.”

Kanan snorts. “Yeah, well, I won’t get rid of this one.”

“It’s important to you,” she points out. “Can I ask why?”

He hesitates, swallowing roughly. “My best friend gave it to me...on Bracca, befo-before the Inquisitors caught up to us,” he admits. “He didn’t make it.”

Her eyes are full of empathy, something she never lacks. “What was his name?”

“Cal,” he says, voice quiet. “Cal Kestis.”

“If you remember his name,” she promises, “he’ll always be with you.”

It’s not so much a Twi’lek belief as it is her own but it reminds Kanan of Grey more than anyone else. His buir. The clones subscribed to many Mandalorian beliefs, including the echoing of remembrances for the dead. Before the abrupt end of the war, little Caleb used to say his every morning with his Master and buir.

So, he decides to start again. It’s difficult, at first, to even get through the first names, his oldest names.

“Depa Billaba,” he says through tears in the quiet of pre-dawn, “Grey, Styles, Prauf...”

He stops.

It’s hard to think, even harder to say, but he knows he needs to. He needs to tell himself the truth, needs to accept the truth.

“Cal—”

He sobs, shaky and painful. His throat burns just like it did when he fell down the chasm on Bracca, screaming his head off, part out of fear for himself but mostly for fear of what was happening to Cal above him. It hurts to speak it into the world, into the Force and those marching on. Cal is among them now, he knows. He just...has to admit it.

“Cal Kestis,” he finally says, the admission wobbly and half-hearted.

He never loses the necklace again.

*

They’ve finally settled on Bogano, after wiping every trace of it from Imperial data servers. The Holocron is safely locked away in the Vault, guarded by their crew and the Binog, fondly called ‘the big guy,’ mostly by fault of Greez.

Though mostly self-sufficient, occasionally some of them will leave the planet for supplies they can’t make themselves. While off on supply runs, well, they can’t help it if some Imperials just look like easy pickings. Apparently, slavers get the same treatment because Merrin ends up a figure in some sort of oral tradition of a Tatooine family, which Cal finds hilarious. Cere is not so amused and grounds them—literally, in that they can’t leave Bogano—for over a month.

Cal spends most of it repairing old platforms and ziplines, not to mention entertaining the Boglings.

They’re fond of him, for some reason, and BD-1, who loves to run around with them while Cal works. One in particular, named Rabid by Merrin after she stole her entire plate of food, is especially loveable.

Cal snickers as he pulls Rabid off his shoulder. “I have to finish this, then I can play.”

Rabid is not pleased with his answer, nibbling at his trousers.

“Rabid,” he chides, ignoring her in favour of his work. He laughs again. “I used to know somebody who would’ve loved you, annoying as you are.”

BD, who has taken Rabid’s place, beeps curiously.

Cal’s face falls a little. He pauses in his work. “Oh. I guess I’ve never told you about Caleb, huh?”

The little droid shakes his head.

Cal never intended to talk about Caleb to anyone, really, but it all comes pouring out. He tells BD and Rabid all about his old best friend, his confidant. The story is a long one, reaching from the creche all the way to Bracca and its bitter end. By the time he’s finished, his voice is quiet and hesitant, his grief echoing through.

Rabid curls up in his lap, nudging his hand, while BD sits in front of them, tilting his head.

A little light on the side of his scope says that he’s recording. He does that a lot, Cal knows, for prosperity, just like he was programmed to. Cal doesn’t mind, really.

When he finishes, BD gets his attention by chirping.

“Huh? You have something to show me?”

BD’s projector whirrs to life and a blue image appears. It’s Cordova, again, but not a video this time. It’s only a holo, of him and another Jedi—Master Jocasta Nu, Cal realises. Master Cordova is dead asleep on her shoulder and she’s leaned over to kiss his brow.

“Oh,” Cal breathes out, something jarring in his chest.

BD-1 thinks that he and Caleb were—well, were like that.

“I—” he pauses. “I dunno, buddy. I never asked him if...but I think…”

Well. It’d be a stretch to say Cal loved him, but he certainly cared for him more than he ever did anyone else. When they were thirteen and stupid, he might’ve said he had a crush on him. After the Fall, on Bracca, he just...didn't think of it. Caleb was all he had and he clung but he never...thought about what it was, thought about what they were.

It hurts to think of now, all that he missed.

“I don’t know if I did,” Cal tells BD quietly. “But I think I- I think I could have.”

BD asks about Caleb a lot, after that. Maybe he can tell that talking about him makes Cal happy. The others know about the one he lost but they don’t ask. They all have their demons and Cal’s are just...just too great to pile on another person. BD, though, is a little easier. All he wants is to see Cal smile again.

*

“What’s this?”

Kanan doesn’t think to look up at whatever Ezra—the newest addition to the Ghost crew—has swiped from him, until he notices a weight missing from his neck. His head snaps up to where a cord hangs from Ezra’s hand.

“Give that back,” Kanan growls, not meaning to be so aggressive.

Ezra’s eyes widen. He holds it out immediately, dropping it into Kanan’s open hand. “Sorry,” he mutters, watching curiously as Kanan puts it back on.

Almost by instinct, Kanan tucks the piece of scrap metal back under his shirt and breathes out a sigh of relief. He goes back to his datapad. Then, a moment later, when he notices the entire room is still silent, he looks up. Sabine and Zeb have joined Ezra in staring incredulously.

“What?” Kanan asks, his voice back to normal.

“I’ve never seen you that mad before,” Sabine admits with a half-shrug, though her eyes betray her concern.

Zeb nods, arms crossed. “And I’ve never seen you without that thing on your neck.”

“Yeah, you even sleep with it!” Ezra adds. “What’s up with that?”

“I—” He goes to make an excuse but stops, his hand fidgeting with the necklace.

“You don’t have to…” Sabine starts to say, but he shakes his head.

He sighs. To be honest, he’s surprised Zeb and Sabine haven’t asked before. “My best friend gave it to me.”

Ezra immediately sits down across from him, eyes wide. “Another Jedi?”

Admittedly, the kid is a lot like he used to be: always asking questions, always pushing. It’s going to get him in trouble someday but for now, it just gets him more stories out of Kanan, stories about the Jedi.

“Yeah. Yeah, another Padawan. We grew up in the Temple together.” He smiles, a fickle and fleeting thing. “He was picked by a Master before me, so we were separated...at the end. But I found him again, on the planet he was last assigned. He gave me this.”

Ezra’s face is bright, curious. Sabine, on the other hand, looks prepared for a gut-punch.

“What happened to him?” she asks quietly.

Kanan exhales sharply, ruefully. “Inquisitors. After 5 years of nothing, they came out of nowhere. I never saw what happened to him. For all I know, they still have him.”

“Oh,” Ezra says, his face falling.

“You know, Zeb,” Kanan begins, not wanting to make things any sadder, “his Master was a Lasat.”

He scoffs. “No way.”

“He was, swear it on my life!” he claims, raising a hand. “First time I saw you, I thought Master Tapal came back to haunt me for being a bad influence.”

Zeb snickers. “Bad influence? You?”

“Eh, a nudge here and there. We were not good kids.”

He tells them a few stories before Sabine and Zeb are called away by Hera and Chopper, leaving Ezra and Kanan alone. Ezra makes to follow them but stops, his expression cautiously blank.

“What is it, Ezra?” Kanan asks, already knowing that he’s brimming with curiosity.

“You said he was...your best friend?”

He frowns. “Yeah, ever since we were kids. Why?”

“I dunno. The way you talked about him just reminded me of my parents,” Ezra admits hesitantly. “Sappy. Did you—?”

Kanan sighs, touching his necklace again.

He had always been more reckless than Cal, back then. He threw himself into everything, into every situation. No matter the problem or the person, he was all-in. No matter what. And that included Cal. Once he took that step, he was karked. Before he knew it, he was hanging onto the redhead’s every word.

Cal was...different. Kanan had known that for a long time but the war only brought it out.

Kanan had a stupid crush, that was all. But on Bracca, it was everything and more.

He’d known then, known for a long time. Cal had never seen it but he didn’t have to. Kanan was fine the way things were. It didn’t feel right, bringing things up after...well, after. So Cal never knew.

(Sure, he could see the past of things with a single touch of his hands but he’d always been pretty oblivious.)

“Love him?” Kanan asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ezra nods.

It’s without hesitation that he answers. “I did.”

When they go in search of Master Luminara, Kanan’s kids buy him a precious few minutes to search for a Cal Kestis in the prisoner logs. He’s not there, of course, but Kanan thinks he prefers that to a death certificate.

*

“Ho-oly shit,” Greez says over comms one day. “You guys better get up here.”

Cal shares a look with Cere, following her out of the workshop with BD on his shoulder. Merrin has already teleported to Greez’s side when they arrive, lightsabers in hand. Greez passes the young man—not so young anymore, Cere has commented teasingly as he desperately shaves away any trace of his age—a pair of electrobinoculars.

Squinting through the scope, he spies a trail of smoke on the horizon attached to a ship.

“Kriffing hells,” Cere says after she gets a look.

In all their 10 years here, no one has ever landed—or crashed, for that matter—on the planet. The few ships that have come into orbit were Imperial and always quickly dealt with before word could get out. This one, however, isn’t exactly your standard Imperial cruiser. And it’s wrecked.

“Looks like a modified VCX-100 light freighter to me,” Greez says. “It’s a nice ship.”

Merrin rolls her eyes. “Are we waiting for them to come to us?”

“Looks like we don’t have to,” Cere declares, still looking through the binocs. “They’re headed this way, six hostiles. Three humans, a Lasat, a Twi’lek, and a droid.”

Greez laughs. “A Lasat? We’re kriffed.”

“Says you,” Merrin snorts.

“I’m with her,” Cal agrees, a cocky smile on his face. “Merrin and I will take the Vault. Cere, Greez, take home. BD will lure the big ones our way.”

“You got it, kid.”

Cere puts a hand on his shoulder before he can follow Merrin—more or less, seeing as she just teleports everywhere. “Be careful.”

The worst part of intruders is that even the hypothetical good ones can’t know Bogano is here. They’ll have to knock them out hard enough for their memories to be spotty and dump them in a nearby system if they’re smart—and they are.

Cal slips on his robe, a gift from Cere, and flips the hood up, making for the Vault.

If these visitors think they can take the Holocron, they have another thing coming.

*

“Are you sure we can find help here?” Ezra asks for the third time as they approach the massive building in the distance. “It looks...deserted.”

Hera sighs for the third time. “Scanners said there were signs of life here in a higher concentration than the rest of the planet. It’s worth checking out.”

Sabine gestures through the mild fog. “There’s buildings up ahead.”

“Good, let’s head there,” Kanan says, a cautious hand on his lightsaber.

Hopping across platforms is a pain, but they all manage to make their way to what looks like a residential area. A small path digs into the ground, leading deeper inside the planet’s crust. With a look at her second in command, Hera starts toward it. However, she stops when Kanan freezes.

“Do you feel that?” he asks suddenly, squinting as he looks into the distance.

Something is...tugging at him. Something in the Force is insistent that he go...that way. The feeling of incompleteness settles inside his chest.

“No…” Ezra replies uneasily. “What is it?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.” After a moment, he decides. “I think I should go this way. You guys go on ahead.”

Zeb scoffs. “I’ll go with you. We don’t know who lived here. Could be Inquisitors for all we know.”

“They generally prefer places with lava,” Ezra counters.

The group splits, with Hera leading Sabine, Chopper, and Ezra into the abode. She and Sabine have their blasters raised, while Ezra keeps a hand on his lightsaber. Chopper is always ready to give someone a nasty shock.

“Anyone home?” Sabine calls.

There’s no answer.

They come across a small kitchen and dining room, where two chairs are pulled out. Over one hangs a small, ratty brown robe with multiple blaster burns.

Ezra plucks it off the back of the seat. “Woah, cool,” he breathes. “Very Jedi-like, huh?”

“Leave it, Ezra,” Hera chides fondly.

“You’d best,” says another voice.

All three of them jump as a lightsaber hums to life. Double-bladed, the weapon burns bright white throughout the room, illuminating its bearer, a woman with dark skin and hair, and her companion.

“Inquisitor!” Ezra cries, lighting his own.

The lightsaber wielder’s friend fires off a blaster right at Hera, who’s shoved out of the way by Sabine. Chopper shrieks, his head spinning.

“Look out!”

On the surface, Zeb follows Kanan to the edge of the platform. There, they find a zip line, which they intend to brave before a series of chirps stops them.

Zeb yelps and lifts his rifle when a droid appears, only stopped by Kanan’s raised hand.

It’s...a buddy droid.

“Hey, little guy,” Kanan greets cautiously. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

He beeps excitedly and backs away, indicating that they should follow. With a single leap, he attaches himself to the zipline and whirrs as he zooms all the way down.

“Don’t tell me we’re following the droid,” Zeb groans.

Kanan just smiles. “We’re following the droid.”

Using the Force to balance himself, he leaps atop the zipline and begins to tiptoe his way down. Behind him, Zeb sighs but reaches up to grab the line, following right after him. They land on a platform a good distance away, where a small slope is guarded by two statues; the beings depicted are of an unknown species, one lost to time.

“I don’t like this,” Zeb says as soon as he hops onto the grass. “It’s like the start of a bad horror holo.”

Kanan snorts. “If that were true, it would be raining tookas and massiffs.”

The buddy droid whirrs loudly to get their attention and bounces his way up the sloping path, on top of which sits a fluffy native creature. Kanan doesn’t know what they’re called, but this one is adorable. She chirps at them, much like the droid did.

“Oh, you’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Kanan coos, moving to meet the creature and let her sniff his hand.

She makes a happy noise and nudges him.

“Ugh,” Zeb mutters, “more things.”

The droid and the creature lead them to the entrance of the massive, ancient building that had caught Kanan’s eye from the crash site. He steps in front of Zeb, placing his hand on the runes in the rock as the Force sings. This isn’t what’s calling him, but…

“Something is here,” Kanan whispers.

“I hope it’s not something that wants to eat us,” Zeb says long-sufferingly.

The slab of rock retreats into the space above, leaving an open tunnel of sorts.

“Karabast,” the Lasat curses, “I hate Jedi stuff.”

Kanan rolls his eyes. “C’mon.”

It’s a tight fit, but the two squeeze their way through, Kanan leading the way. They exit into a large cavern filled with a few inches of water, just enough to be annoying. Standing in the midst of the cave is a figure in a brown robe. The moment Kanan spots him, he draws his lightsaber and stands in front of Zeb until he can ready his rifle, too.

“You are not meant to be here.”

Kanan frowns. “The Force says otherwise. Who are you?”

“The guardian of this vault. You need to leave,” the figure says.

From underneath their robe, they draw a very familiar weapon. With a snap and a hiss, two blades of yellow light appear. Kanan lights his own lightsaber in response but it’s too little too late.

A green smoke encompasses Zeb, who yelps as he’s flung across the room by a pissed off Nightsister—which makes zero sense because they’re all supposed to be dead.

Kanan makes for his friend, interrupted only by the mysterious guardian rushing at him.

“Where did you get that lightsaber?” the faceless figure hisses.

And, well, Kanan doesn’t know how to answer that question except with another question. “Where did you get yours? ”

Back in the residential platform, Hera leaps in between Ezra and the lightsaber-wielder. “Wait!” she cries.

Both stop, staring at her like she’s crazy.

“That’s a healed kyber crystal, isn’t it?” Hera asks, pointing to her white blade. “You’re not an Inquisitor. You’re a Jedi.”

The woman lowers her lightsaber just slightly. “I was.”

“I’m one, too!” Ezra chirps, popping out from behind Hera. “Er. I’m training to be one!”

Her eyes widen. “A Padawan? Who’s your Master?”

Before he can answer, Hera speaks for him. “Kanan Jarrus. But his name used to be Caleb Dume.”

“Caleb?” she asks, her voice hushed in awe. “Depa Billaba’s Padawan?”

She nods.

Abruptly, the woman turns sharply on her heel, raising her comm unit to her lips and rushing out the door. “Cal, they’re non-hostiles, non-hostiles! Don’t hurt your boyfriend!”

“What!?” Ezra and Sabine cry at the same time, the former’s voice cracking.

Without another word, they follow her and her friend outside.

*

Merrin has the Lasat out of the Vault long before Cal gets his opponent to the entrance, admittedly. Lightsaber to lightsaber combat is significantly more balanced than Nightsister magick against a bo-rifle, poor guy.

Still, Cal pushes the intruder to the top of the Vault’s slope, the man just on the edge of slipping.

That’s when Cere’s voice crackles through the comms.

“Cal, they’re non-hostiles, non-hostiles! Don’t hurt your boyfriend!”

Hand grasping the intruder’s shirt, holding him above the edge, Cal freezes. He meets brown eyes and suddenly can’t breathe, gaze drifting to the cord around the taller man’s neck. His gloveless fingers just barely skim the material, Force signatures exploding in front of his eyes.

And suddenly, he can see it. He can see himself, painstakingly painting that symbol onto the metal and bartering for a cord. He sees an older Caleb sobbing in the quiet of an unfamiliar room, clutching that necklaces like a lifeline.

“Did you—?”

“Love him? I did.”

A shaky breath passes his lips.

“Caleb?” he asks, voice breaking on the name that’s so unfamiliar on his tongue.

The grip on his wrist loosens.

Kanan hears the woman’s voice, clear as day, but he almost doesn’t believe it at first. He almost doesn’t believe when he hears that whispered question. Caleb. It’s the name of a stranger and yet—yet when that robe’s hood slips off to reveal red hair and bright green eyes, he feels like he’s never known any other name.

“Cal?”

The Force wasn’t calling him to the Vault. It was calling him to its guardian.

Silence falls, the rest of the world fading away. All they’ve been through, all they’ve seen, and it all stops in this moment. It all adds up to this.

Cal lets go of his shirt, letting him balance precariously at the top of the muddy slope down from the Vault. Neither of them speaks—neither of them knows what to feel, except bright, unparalleled joy.

Cal doesn’t let himself flinch when Caleb reaches, his fingers just barely skimming his cheek.

He doesn’t get much further. Green smoke encompasses his body and before Cal knows it, his best friend is being flung from the Vault entrance to the platform beyond, screaming as he goes. The platform beyond, where the Oggdo used to reside, is covered in flowers. It was there that Cal planted his little sapling in a boot and there that the plant spread, covering almost every inch of land with budding blue and yellow flowers.

Cal whirls around to see Merrin, her eyes glowing green.

“Merrin, no!” he protests, eyes wide with desperation. “That’s Caleb!”

Merrin’s glowing fades as she glances at the nearby Lasat and her friend’s horrified face. “My mistake,” she says in that tone that says she knows exactly who he is.

(They were taking too long to speak, in her opinion.)

Cal huffs at her before getting a running start toward the entrance, using the Force to balance himself as he slides down that muddied slope, sailing right toward Caleb. Near the end, he leaps into the air, propelling himself a mere few feet from his collapsed companion.

“Caleb!” he cries, stumbling the last few steps and falling to his knees, where Caleb is face-down in the damp grass, his hair-tie mysteriously missing.

Caleb is—well, he’s okay. He’s just...wheezing with laughter.

He pushes himself up on his elbows and flips over just as Cal makes it to him, his chest heaving with the effort. And still, he laughs, a half-mad sound.

“Are you o—?” Cal is cut off by his own yelp when Caleb flings himself up from the ground and pulls Cal with him.

He embraces the redhead, dragging them both to their feet so he can swing Cal around. Cal shrieks and hitches his legs up on his hips, as difficult as that is with the man’s height—the bastard, he grew. He reaches desperately for Caleb’s shoulders to hold onto when they spin, completely unaware of Cere and the rest of Caleb’s group appearing on the platform.

Finally, Caleb stops, looking up at Cal with shining eyes and a smile that could kill a man. Cal leans forward, letting his forehead fall against his and breathing out a sigh of relief.

“I thought the Inquisitors had you,” Caleb whispers, a thousand more words in the back of his mind, too many to count.

Cal’s eyes well with tears. “I thought you were dead.”

Caleb has always been more reckless than Cal but the latter was the one to hear his words echo through that necklace, an admission years too late. It’s because of that little echo that Cal buries a hand in the hair that falls to his shoulders and pushes his head upward, meeting him in a searing kiss.

Out of shock, Caleb both squeaks—adorable, Cal thinks—and clutches the back of Cal’s shirt for a moment before dropping him. Luckily, his instinct has him landing on his feet.

The drop pulls him away and, looking up, he sees Caleb looking shell-shocked.

He just grins, grabs the taller man’s shirt, and pulls him in for another kiss, this one saying much more than the first. Caleb plants his feet and buries a hand in Cal’s hair for good measure.

They both ignore Greez cackling in the distance and Sabine’s whispered: “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck —”

Because in that moment, all is right with the galaxy. Cal’s flowers are fully grown and blossoming beneath their feet, Caleb’s robe is waiting for him in the other room, and they have each other again.

And that’s all they’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it?

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

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