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redux-iterum · 11 months

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Burning Hearts: Chapter Twenty

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Cinderpaw, sit down!”

His mouth full of mole, Fireheart looked up and to his right. Willowpelt was chasing after her daughter, who was hobbling in a circle, her crippled leg dragging on the ground.

“Sit down right now!” Willowpelt half-shouted. “Your leg won’t heal if you push it this early!”

“Mi, it’s not healing anyway!” Cinderpaw gave her mother an amused look, inappropriate as ever. “I can at least try to help out around camp while I wait to see what position this leg ends up freezing in.”

Willowpelt spluttered multiple attempts to scold her, but couldn’t seem to get a full sentence out. She finally turned to Yellowfang, who was busy pulling some prey out of the prey-pile, and snapped, “Are you not going to help me with this?”

“I am,” Yellowfang said without looking up. She yanked a rather fat pigeon out from under a squirrel and tossed it behind her. “Girl! Eat.”

Cinderpaw, immediately distracted, perked herself up about as well as she could on a bad leg. “Ooh! Pigeon!”

“Had it saved for your endless gut.” Yellowfang squinted an eye at her. “Worse than Yrrun, you are, sometimes.”

Cinderpaw did not appear to hear her; she just hurried over to the bird. Watching her limp was grimly interesting—her front end was higher than her back, and she had to hop with her good hind leg while her front ones almost pulled her weight along. It was nothing like Yellowfang’s bad front leg, where she could still put a bit of pressure on it. Cinderpaw’s broken leg was lifted a little—it vaguely gave Fireheart the impression of an old branch—and remarkably, she didn’t seem to notice it or feel any pain. At least, not when food was present.

Fireheart lowered his head and went back to his own meal, trying to ignore the gnashing and loud chewing, complete with occasional snorts. Of all the things she had to inherit from her mentor…

Shrieks of disgust made Fireheart look up again. The gold-and-white litter were scrabbling out of the nursery, pushing past a half-asleep Goldenflower, and the one at the lead was Thornkit, followed closely by Brightkit. She had been the one to squeal and screech to a halt as she caught sight of Cinderpaw.

“You eat gross!” she declared, swiping a paw like she was trying to push the bird away from the much larger apprentice at a distance.

“’M h’ngry!” Cinderpaw said, mouth full.

Fireheart snorted at Brightkit squealing again and turning around, stumbling off towards the elders’ den. Snowkit pranced after her, but it took the others a moment to realize she was running at all, at which point they hurried after her.

One-eye’s lanky form was stretched out in front of the fallen log that made up their den; she didn’t have a chance to prepare herself before Brightkit and Brackenkit were climbing onto her, swinging paws at each other and at the grey elder’s ears.

“Stoppit!” Thornkit shouted, catching up to them. “She’s sleeping!”

One-eye, remarkably, woke up slowly, blinking her single eye and twisting her head to peer sleepily at the pair of kits on her side. She chuffed and rolled a bit, spilling them back onto the ground.

“Evening to you, little ants,” she said. She called into the den, “Boys, we’ve got guests!”

Patchpelt came out first, purring as the kits swarmed him now and made it hard for him to walk to his favored sitting spot by the shell of the log. Halftail, bulky and dark brown like his nephew, hesitantly followed, sniffing at Snowkit, the only one to approach him.

“Well, now…” Patchpelt maneuvered around One-eye and through the tiny crowd and sat down in his spot. “Have you little ones been behaving? Not bothering your mother?”

“She told us to go outside,” Brackenkit said cheerfully. “She said we were being ram-BUNK-shush.”

Patchpelt purred again. “Well, maybe we can settle you down. How would you like a story?”

‘Settling down’ was not exactly what happened next. All of the kits yowled in excitement and started scrambling around to find a seat—all of them except Snowkit, who had to see what his siblings were doing to join them, and even then he sat down politely and silently while Brackenkit and Thornkit pushed each other around for the front row spot.

“What’s the story?” Brightkit asked, vibrating in place. “What’s the story?”

Cinderpaw jerked her head up and got to her good feet, her pigeon now just a mess of bloody feathers. “Are we having a story?”

Willowpelt sighed in relief. “Cinderpaw, go and sit with them, and please rest your leg.”

“Will do!” Cinderpaw half-hopped to join the kits, sprawling out behind them, her tail high, though bent at the tip. “What’ve you got for us, Patchpelt?”

“Well…” Patchpelt glanced up slowly at the sky, then beckoned the kits to look up too. “See those clouds up there? Theful is herding away last night’s storm.”

Theful… Fireheart swallowed the last of his mole, his attention fully on the elders. Was he finally getting a chance to actually hear a story about this one?

“Now, Theful, he’s a jolly one,” Patchpelt continued, his voice taking on a beautiful mix of whimsy and intrigue as the kits stared up at him. “Have you seen him before? He’s colored like the clouds he herds, and he travels the sky to give us good weather. We don’t see him all the time, though, because he likes to wander the world and see things none of us could even dream of.”

The kits stared up at Patchpelt, their tails wagging like they were hunting a huge squirrel. Even Snowkit was watching closely. He was positioned at just the right angle for Fireheart to catch his little mouth moving a bit, mimicking Patchpelt as he spoke.

“Does Mernatha go with him?” Brackenkit asked.

Mernatha, another character that Fireheart had caught the name of here and there. Mostly from cats just using her name and mentioning some event or other she’d partaken in—all that Fireheart knew about her was scattered and wild. She was a beautiful calico and liked a good joke. That was the extent of his knowledge.

“Oh, Mernatha would never leave us,” One-eye piped up. “She’s got to keep an eye on all of the Clans.”

Patchpelt nodded. “But Theful, he gets a little distracted, sometimes, and he wanders away. That’s why we have half-months of snow and rain—he’s somewhere else, adventuring.”

“Ohhhh,” the kits said in unison.

Fireheart’s eyes flickered upward at the clouds sailing overhead. One cat, really responsible for all that? Wasn’t Suriin the one that controls the weather?

“Well, there was one time his adventures took him to a far-off land, to the realm of the storm-deer,” Patchpelt went on. “When you grow to be apprentices, you’ll see deer once in a great while in our forests, during the spring. They’re brown giants with long legs and large ears, and the bucks—males, that is—bear branchy horns on their heads they call ‘antlers’.”

Something brushed Fireheart’s side. He looked up and blinked a greeting at Ravenwing, smelling of the forest outside.

“Pampam* loves the storm-deer story,” he whispered in Fireheart’s ear. “He used to tell me it all the time when I was a kit.”

Fireheart curled his tail. “Well, it’ll be nice to hear something from your kithood, then. I never had stories. Not any I could remember, at least.”

“We’ve got to tell you everything we know,” Ravenwing replied, sitting down. “Make up for that lost time.”

Fireheart nodded and returned his attention to Patchpelt.

“Storm-deer are different from normal deer, though,” he was saying. “They’re bigger, and darker, and their antlers are bright like lightning. Their feet are broad and heavy, and as they run through the clouds, their footsteps echo down to us as thunder. They have quite the temper, too, as Theful knows.

“Now, once in a very dry spring, Theful thought the territories could use some rain to help our plants grow, so prey could eat and we could eat the prey in turn. Theful likes a clear sky, but even he knows when it’s time for harder weather. So he set out towards the sunrise on a mission, soaring through the sky like a bird. He has a great deal of fun flying above us, and he—“ Patchpelt paused to cough. “—pardon me. He lost track of what he was supposed to be doing so he could chase after birds and dance with the wind in circles, caught up in his fun. It took a goose flying towards the sunset—”

“A goose?” One-eye squinted at him. “It’s a falcon.”

Patchpelt, looking a bit startled to be interrupted, turned to One-eye. “It’s always a goose whenever I tell it.”

“You don’t tell it like my mother did,” One-eye sniffed, giving him a teasing thwap with her long tail.

Cinderpaw piped up now. “Primi**, you don’t even tell it.”

“Hush,” One-eye said, giving her a similarly-joking frown. “Patchpelt, go on.”

The black-and-white tom gave it a moment, likely in case One-eye interrupted again, and then continued. "So the goose came across Theful spiraling around in the air, and it asked, ‘What are you doing, creature?’

“‘I’m playing with my friend, the wind,’ Theful said, singing it like a bird.

“The goose gave a honk of disdain. ‘Why play with it here? You ought to have it carry you westward. Don’t you know that spring has started?’

“Theful gave a start, because he finally remembered his mission. Hurriedly, he bowed to the wind and raced off with a call of ‘Thank you!’ to the goose, who watched him in confusion before shaking its head with its long neck and continuing on its way.

“It didn’t take long before a dark, dark cloud, taller than the Great Sycamore, rose up in the distance. Theful knew he had to focus then, and he refused to take his eyes off the cloud as he dashed forward.”

“He gets distracted still,” One-eye whispered to Brackenkit, who bobbed his head eagerly.

“Not in this version,” Patchpelt said lightly.

“What happens in your version, then?”

“He just goes straight for the cloud.”

“That can’t be right.” One-eye cocked her head to Halftail. “Is that what his father told him?”

Halftail, not looking particularly enthused about joining the conversation, grunted. “It’s not what I heard, at least.”

Patchpelt sighed, more dramatically than exasperatedly, making the kits trill. He said to them, “Can you believe I’m being interrupted this much?”

“Tell the right story, Patchpelt, and we’ll keep quiet,” One-eye said. “Now, my version has it that he sees a marching procession of butterflies, and he plays with them until they get scared by the thunder from the storm-deer, so he goes up to ask them to stop before he remembers what he’s supposed to be doing again.”

“That’s not right either,” Halftail muttered.

One-eye shot him a look. “I’m telling it straight from the mouth of the river!”

“He doesn’t see butterflies.” Halftail narrowed his amber eyes at his denmate. “He sees real deer chasing the storm around and praying to it.”

“Where did you hear that version?” Patchpelt looked at him now, completely nonplussed. “I’ve never heard that one.”

“Smallstorm told me it once.”

One-eye waved her tail dismissively. “Oh, Smallstorm never had a story right in his entire life.”

“That version is accurate,” Ravenwing said suddenly. “Or, near-accurate.”

Every head turned to him now, Snowkit’s head trailing behind. Ravenwing cringed back a bit immediately, but he didn’t start shaking, to Fireheart’s relief.

“When did you learn that, Ravenwing?” Patchpelt asked, eyes sparkling with intrigue.

Ravenwing squirmed a bit, but his voice stayed clear and loud. “Well, I just remember at one Gathering, a RiverClan cat was talking about it to someone else. I– I asked her about her version, and she told me the whole thing.”

Fireheart blinked in surprise. “You never told me this! When did this happen?”

“Oh, pel*** Gatherings ago,” Ravenwing said. “You weren’t there, so I was just kind of on my own, and, well, I can’t pass up hearing a story from RiverClan, of all places.”

One-eye trilled. “Well, then! Why don’t you come and tell it to these kittens, since you’re so educated?”

Ravenwing stiffened, his tail jittery. Very gently, Fireheart rested his own tail on his friend’s haunch. Ravenwing blinked, like he was waking up from a dream, and looked down at Fireheart, who gave him an encouraging face.

To Fireheart’s delight, Ravenwing took in a breath and nodded. “S-sure. I can try.”

He got to his feet and walked a little tentatively to his grandfather’s side and sat down in the space Patchpelt scooted over to give him. He was completely boxed in: elders on his sides and at his back, kittens in front of him. There was no getting away from this without stepping over someone and making a scene. It all relied on his courage now. Fireheart watched intently, trying to mentally send over the bravery of Horoa he’d been blessed with as an apprentice.

“Well…” Ravenwing breathed in again, and the slight tremble in his voice weakened, though it clung stubbornly on by a single claw. “So, Theful was distracted again, this time by a herd of deer running in a flatland below him. His curiosity burning, he chased them, catching up swiftly to their leader, a stag with antlers like an oak tree.”

“‘Where are we going, my crowned friend?’ he asked over the soft rumble of the cloud swiftly coming towards him.

“The stag looked up to the sky and said, ‘We run to follow our gods in the stormcloud. They have promised us rain and the growth of grass.’

“Again, Theful realized he’d gotten distracted, and silently scolded himself. He darted skyward again, aiming for the belly of the storm. Lightning did not strike yet, but he knew it would soon, and then rain would come. He also knew that clouds can only give us so much water before they become thin and tired and simply float by in silence. There was no time to waste—he must get to that cloud first.

“A leap, a prayer, and he pierced the cloud. The inside of a cloud, so the crows say, is like the fog we sometimes see in our forest: thick and grey and difficult to see anything through. But Theful was not frightened; it was just another adventure to him, and he dances with clouds like a fish dances in the water. He flew with ease until he came to the center, where he found the storm-deer.

“My grandfather already told you what they look like, but it bears repeating that their dark pelts and lightning-bright antlers, and their massive size, were an unexpected difference from Theful’s company on the ground. Theful was a little startled, and hesitated, wondering what he could say.

“The king of the storm-deer saw him first, and marched gracefully and pompously over to him, every step a clap of thunder. He said, ‘It is not often we find a cat in our presence. What calls you here?’

“Theful wilted a bit under the pale stare of the stag, but he spoke as cheerfully as he always does. ‘Well, you see, my lord, I hear that you plan to rain here in the flatlands.’ At the disinterested nod of the king, he continued. ‘I come to you as a humble cloudherd, seeking a gift for my friends in the forest far off behind me. We desire rain, and swiftly. Even our fish are thirsty. I request half a night’s rain, and no more, sire.’

“The king brayed as if Theful had told a joke, the sound shaking the cloud. ‘We serve no cats, you fool. This rain belongs to our kin and no other. I will not give you even one drop of dew, but I will let you go without complaint that you have wasted my time. Be off, now!’

“Now, the king was new to his position, and very full of himself. What he didn’t realize was that Theful, when focused, is very good at his job, and more clever than most believe. Theful knew how easily deer startle, no matter where they live, and he knew how to keep clouds packed together and steered in the direction he so desires. And, well, Theful is a friend of the trickster Mernatha, and he knew a thing or two about pranks on those much larger than him. If the king wanted to posture, let him.”

Fireheart watched in awe. Ravenwing had always been more eloquent than him, but now it was like an entirely different cat was speaking. He was sitting up straight, tail curled neatly around his paws, and he appeared to hardly notice the many eyes on him. Even Snowkit was staring up at him in excitement, still mouthing the words he spoke.

“So Theful bowed his head and backed out of the cloud, pretending to fly away. But as soon as he was out in the open again, he sailed overhead and gazed down at the massive storm below. He wouldn’t need much; just a pair of big clouds would do well to water the Clans’ home. Perhaps he was feeling a bit more mischievous than usual, because he couldn’t resist starting with the very first cloud—that of the king and his entourage.

“Flying down to the rear of the clouds, he took a deep breath and bellowed like a fierce wind, like a fox’s scream, like a car roaring down the road, all at once. Theful used this voice often to push clouds to hurry themselves along, and so we are quite used to it.

“The storm-deer were not, however. The king squealed in fear, presuming it to be the roar of a human and its weapons, that which they fear more than anything. He galloped forward, and his herd, startled, chased after him. Deer run without question as soon as one of them has the idea to, and the noise had frightened them too, so they sprang off, leaving a massive chunk of their distantly-following herd behind, hoping their king knew where he was going.

“Theful leaped into action, and this time, he didn’t let his attention wander. Leaping here, pushing there, bellowing all the while, he easily guided the massive cloud sunset-ward, back to us. He kept them running, their thunder shaking the very sky. When he saw the moorland of WindClan up ahead, he called his friend, the wind, and the wind curled around the clouds, squeezing them tightly. Like when we squeeze water out of moss, the clouds swiftly gave up their plunder. Rain, hard rain, harder than Theful had even requested, torrented down upon the territories. Theful watched in delight as the river rose from its thin state again, circling the clouds to ensure they stayed put until he was satisfied.

“The clouds did eventually give up all of their rain, turning from black to white. The storm-deer stood in their shrunken home, shaking and confused, until the king looked outside and saw Theful swimming about in the air merrily, very pleased with himself. He realized what had happened and grew furious—and, more importantly to him, embarrassed, because he had been tricked so easily and made a fool of.”

“Did he chase Theful back?” Brightkit squeaked. “I’d do that!”

“Pro’bly went away again,” Thornkit said. “Right?”

Ravenwing seemed a little surprised at the interruption, but he twitched his whiskers and said, “Well, his first idea was to attack Theful and trample him into the ground for fooling him so easily. But Theful only had to bellow again to frighten his herd once more, and, like I said, a deer cannot resist running when their herd does. So the king ran after his herd as they sprinted back towards where they had left their fellows, and Theful trilled and chuffed and congratulated himself on a game well played. Since then, he’s chased them here and there, just to give us some extra rain and perhaps for fun, and the king, though he is old now, is scared into being herded every single time.” Ravenwing nodded firmly. “And that’s the end, as I heard it, and as you’ve heard it now.”

The kits lit up the air with yowls and cheers of excitement, and the elders were watching Ravenwing with impressed expressions—even Halftail, whose eyes were lit with approval.

“You told it beautifully,” Patchpelt said, bumping his grandson’s shoulder with his head. “You must tell stories more often.”

And like that, the bravery went away. Ravenwing fidgeted his front feet, shuffling his back nervously. “I– well– I know that one pretty well, but– but I don’t know all of the good ones.”

Brightkit jumped to her feet and charged Brackenkit, yelling, “Run, deer! Run!”

“Huh?” was all Brackenkit got out before his sister bowled him over. He scrambled to his feet and ran off towards his mother, yowling like he was trying to imitate the roar of the wind Ravenwing had described, Brightkit getting up and chasing him. Thornkit made an exasperated sound and followed, shouting at them to stop.

Snowkit was the last one, and he hadn’t moved. He was staring up at Ravenwing, his little tail wagging eagerly.

Ravenwing looked down at him, saying quietly, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell it in a way you’d understand just yet.”

Again, Snowkit mimicked his mouth movements, then stood up. He copied Patchpelt, bumping his head against Ravenwing’s leg, then turned and trotted off towards the now-awake Goldenflower, who was watching his siblings in amusement.

Fireheart watched the little kit go, intrigued, wondering just how much of the story he had comprehended.

*”Pampam”: an affectionate form of “pamarpam”, meaning “grandfather”. Similar to saying “gramps”.

**”Primi”: an affectionate form of “primira”, meaning “grandmother”. Similar to saying “granny”.

***”Pel”: a vague amount between five and eight.

#warrior cats #redux iterum #iterum #burning hearts #chapter #chapter twenty #book two #arc one

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balshumetsbaragouin · 3 months

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Chapter 20 is out, and we're racing towards the finish line! Inside, Valerie heads home after her fight with Phantom and gets into an argument with her dad.

There's only 4 more chapters to go, and things are really getting tense. It's wild to think the story is almost finished with its posting schedule, AND I'll be able to use the art that inspired the story in the fic very soon.

In other news, I've started posting my Valentine's Core Exchange fic. You'll see a separate post about Hybrid Affinity later today. If you missed the announcement post, now you know it exists!

Saturday's update is on schedule, so I'll see you then! (Enjoy your chapter preview!):

The window to the room slammed shut, fine spiderwebs of cracks snaking through the glass from the force of the motion. Several tiny pieces of glass fell onto their bedspread. That would let winter chill leak inside. They would have to repair it later. They settled into the space, chest heaving, slowly mending the cuts to their skin. Phantom’s noxious influence clung to their surface, a ghoulish residue that stank of spectral energy, and melted into every crack and open wound in their metallic skin like ice turning into water. The arctic chill of the creature’s fetid powers carved into their organic flesh and scraped along the inside of the bones. They couldn’t breathe. The damage to their true skin must be impeding the distribution of oxygen. Their primary skull slid away from their fleshy human features, liberating the sensitive, fragile flesh to suck in air for their weaker secondary oxygenation systems.

Their articulation points ached, filling with excess lubricant and swelling inside the casing that cushioned them. They sunk down to the soft fabric of the floor. They needed to recover. They had wounded the creature, but not mortally. It would return soon. Its energy clashed with their own, carving through the protection of their true skin to stab at the organic tissue beneath. Despite their best efforts, they could not keep the wretched creature’s profane powers from skating between joints and digging into fragile mortal flesh. Their human parts were vulnerable. They raked their claws over the surface of their true skin, trying to chase the feeling of its grotesque energy film from their body. A pleasing metallic noise hummed through the air, the sound of two metal rods resonating together after one had been struck. Their human voice joined it as the sensation finally faded with the clawed cleaning of their skin. They would need to use more energy to undo the damage their claws had wrought, but ridding their true skin of the sensation of Phantom’s ghoulish energy took priority. “Valerie?” They turned, enhanced eyes taking in the human by the door. Our sire is home?

“Daddy? When did you get back?” They made their voice meek, removed the sensuous ring of their digital voice layers. The man by the door stared, eyes going wider by the millisecond. They lowered their eyebrows, then pursed their lips, attempting to form the expression for confusion.

#Danny Phantom #Danny Phantom Fanfiction #DP #DP Fanfic #Passion and Plasmatic Plague #PaPP #Balshumet's Baragouin #Chapter Twenty

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ericshoney · 9 months

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The Mafia Boss ~ Chapter twenty (End)

A few days passed since the ITZY girls were dealt with. Everything had been fairly quiet and calm. Apart from Sunghoon's mind. The mafia leader has been so busy trying not to spoil his suprise for Y/n. That surprise being, a proposal. He was going to ask her to marry him. Luckily, he had Heeseung to help.

The two were sat in Sunghoon's office, checking everything off the list he made. He saw everything checked off, the shiny diamond ring sat in its box on the desk.

"Okay so you want me to get the others to help set the living room up as Bea takes Y/n out?" Heeseung suggests.

"Yes sounds good. Don't have them make a mess." Sunghoon responds, making Heeseung laugh.

"I'll try but no promises." The eldest replies.

Sunghoon shakes his head as his plan is put into action. Beatrix first take Y/n out so she's not around the house as the other boys start to decorate the living room full of banners and balloons. As that was going on, Sunghoon stood in his room, changing into a suit and standing in front of the mirror, practising what he's going to stay.

"Y/n, your the love of my life." He mumbles.

Sunghoon continues practising different things to say. A couple hours fly by, which the mafia boss didn't even realise, only when Jay knocks and walks into the room.

"We're all set up. Your looking dapper in your suit." The cheeky male mentions.

"I wear suits most days, especially if there is a meeting." Sunghoon responds, turning to the older male.

"Yes but you have a nice glow to you, its a special reason." Jay replies with a wink.

The leader shakes his head and follows Jay downstairs, he pats his pocket where the ring box is, smiling to himself. As he get to the living room, the others all cheer at him, supporting his ever move.

"The girls will be home in five." Jake mentions.

The next five minutes are torture for Sunghoon, and not the good kind, but once he hears the door open and two sets of footsteps, his nerves disappear. Beatrix is the first to walk into the living room, running over to stand next to Niki.

Sunghoon's heart then beats faster as Y/n steps through, he smiles at her, instantly getting down on one knee, seeing her shocked face.

"Y/n, your the love of my life. I know I've done some really shitty things in the past and treated you badly but I promise to do better. I never want to lose you again. Moon Y/n, be mine, forever." Sunghoon said, pouring his heart and soul into every word.

"YES!" Y/n screams, running over to Sunghoon.

He smiles and slips the ring onto her finger, kissing his soon to be wife. The others cheer and throw confetti at the couple, happy for their friends.

"I love you Y/n." Sunghoon said softly, kissing her forehead.

"I love you too Sunghoon." Y/n replies, smiling through the happy tears.

Who would have thought that Moon Y/n and Park Sunghoon would be back together, happy, especially after everything that the couple went through. But Y/n knows she can trust Sunghoon, knowing he's changed for the good. Knowing he loves her and supports her forever. The couple about to become the most dangerous and powerful couple in the mafia world.

The End.

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop au #enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen fanfic #au #ocs #mafia #xreader #femalereader #sunghoon #park sunghoon #mafia sunghoon #chapter twenty #the end #final chapter #sunghoon xreader #park sunghoon x reader

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renee-writer · 11 months

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What If It Were Brian Chapter Twenty

AO3

“Alright, come Jenny, let’s up to your room.”

Claire, the healer, is ready. Jenny moans as she helps her upstairs leaving the stunned men behind.

“I shall go get the rags to clean up the waters.” Ian says, “Then we will start planning your move.”

Jamie lays his son down on the couch and covers him with a tartan. “I shall pour us some spirits, eh?”

That night, they initiate Fergus into the heavy spirits club. The lad had been weaned on wine but the whisky was something else. While the men drink, the women fight to bring new life forth.

“That’s it love, a bit more.”

“Bloody hell Claire! I cannot do it!” Her hair lays sweat covered by her face. Her shift is translucent with the effort to bring her child out.

“You can and you are.” Claire is covered in sweat herself. She has the windows open to catch a breeze. Jenny has been laboring for the last twelve hours.

“Daddy, where is mama?” Brian wakes to find himself in the same room, surrounded by his male relatives.

“She is helping your Auntie Jenny have her baby.” Jamie explains. “Are you hungry lad? Mrs. Crook has breakfast made.”

At this his stomach growls and they both laugh.

“Yes daddy.” He frowns at the way his big brother sleeps. “Is Fergus alright?”

Jamie lifts him up into his arms. “Aye. He was just celebrating the coming bairn. He will be just fine. Just needs to sleep. Come, let’s have breakfast.”

“Ohhh, damnit all to hell!” she screams as the last part of her labor takes over. “Ian shall never touch me again!”

Claire smiles behind her hand. She knows it is just the pain talking. “Almost ready to push.” She says soothingly.

“I want it out!” She wails, starting to bear down.

Claire gets down and in front of her. She sees the top of the crowning head.

“It is coming. Just like that.”

In the kitchen.

Fergus stumbles in, his eyes red and his hands on his head. “Papa, I don’t feel so good.”

Brian sits at the table feasting on bannocks and fresh honey. He frowns at seeing his brother.

“Fergus , are you ill?”

“Dinna fash, little lad. Your daddy can fix him up.”

He leads his eldest to a seat at the table. Before him, he places a cup of strong tea, laced with a bit of whisky. Fergus blearily looks down on it. “What?”

“Hair of the dog.” Jamie replies.

“Has Auntie Jenny been delivered yet?” asked as he takes a tentative sip.

“No, but it should be soon.”

It is.

“Come, one more like that and the child will be here.”

A grunt. A caught breath and another. Claire guides the baby out. Jenny rests against the bedframe, panting.

“A healthy lad.” Her good sister announces, lifting him up into his mam’s arms.

“Hello Ian.” She smiles at the lad, then at Claire, “It seems time to name one after the man who gives them to me. Thank you Claire.”

“My pleasure .”

She and wee Ian are cleaned up and places on the bed. She then goes to tell the family.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #what if it were brian #chapter twenty #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom

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aurora-by-jacqui-natla · 11 months

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20. SEATTLE

THE ROADS WERE SLICK AND DARK, AND DRIVING DIDN'T SEEM TO scare Bella anymore. Her reflexes were well up to the job, and she barely paid attention to the road. The problem was keeping the speed from attracting attention when we had company. We wanted to be done with today's mission, to have the mystery sorted out so that we could get back to the vital task of learning. Learning to protect some, learning to kill others.

Bella got most of the training from Kate and Zafrina. Kate didn't feel the need to motivate her anymore and so she mostly worked with Zafrina; she was pleased with Bella's extension.

I visited Evelyn's grave more often than usual even when I was a human. I managed to get Ayla a gift for her for Christmas and I knew she'll love it. But I should be worried about preparing for what was coming; I was told it will be only two weeks away.

I remember the area of Seattle a little bit but it was a good thing for Bella to memorise the appropriate maps, and it was no problem finding the address that didn't exist online: the one for a Mr J. Jenks. The next step would be to him at the other address, the one Alice did not share.

If there was I remember about Seattle was that it wasn't a nice neighbourhood. The Cullens' cars were still outrageous on this street. The buildings were mostly old houses divided up into multiple apartments. It was hard to tell what colour the peeling paint was supposed to be. Everything had faded to shades of grey. A few of the buildings had businesses on the first floor: a dirty bar with windows painted black, a psychic's supply store with neon hands and tarot cards glowing fitfully on the door, a tattoo parlour, and a daycare with duct tape holding the broken front window together.

There were a few people about, two shuffling through the rain in opposite directions and one sitting on the shallow porch of a boarded-up cut-rate law office, reading a wet newspaper and whistling. The sound was much too cheerful for the setting. There were no numbers on the dilapidated place, but the tattoo parlour beside it was just two numbers off.

Bella pulled up to the curb and idled for a second. We got into that dump one way or another, but I was more concerned about the whistlers noticing us. She could park the next street over and come through the back. Possibly more witnesses on that side.

"Hey, ladies," the whistler called to us.

Bella rolled the passenger window down as if she couldn't hear him. The man laid his paper aside, and his clothes surprised us, now that we could see them. Under his long ragged duster, he was a little too well dressed. There was no breeze to give us the scent, but the sheen on his dark red shirt looked like silk. His crinkly black hair was tangled and wild, but his dark skin was smooth and perfect, his teeth white and straight. A contradiction.

"Maybe you shouldn't park that car there, lady," he said. "It might not be here when you get back."

"Thanks for the warning," Bella said.

She shut off the engine and we got out. Perhaps the whistling man could give us the answers we needed faster than breaking. Bella opened the big grey umbrella and it protected us from the rain. The man squinted through the rain at our faces, and then his eyes widened. He swallowed, and I heard his heart accelerate as we approached.

"We're looking for someone," Bella began.

"I'm someone," he offered with a smile. "What can I do for you, beautiful?"

"You're J. Jenks?" I asked.

"Oh," he said, and his expression changed from anticipation to understanding. He got to his feet and examined us with narrowed eyes. "Why're you two ladies looking for J?"

"That's our business. Are you J?" Bella asked.

"No."

We all faced each other for a long moment while his sharp eyes ran up and down. His gaze finally made it to her face. "You don't look like the usual customer."

"I'm probably not the usual," she admitted. "But I do need to see him as soon as possible."

"I'm not sure what to do," he admitted.

"Why don't you tell us your name?" I asked him.

He grinned. "Max."

"Well, Max, why don't you tell me what you do for the usual?"

His grin became a frown. "Well, J's usual clients don't look a thing like you. Your kind doesn't bother with the downtown office. You just go straight up to his fancy office in the skyscraper."

Bella repeated the other address, making the list of numbers a question.

"Yeah, that's the place," he said, suspicious again. "How come you didn't go there?"

"This was the address I was given—by a very dependable source."

"And why is she here?" Max questioned my presence.

"A friend requested her to be here," Bella replied.

"If you were up to any good, you wouldn't be here."

She pursed my lips and I gritted my teeth.

"Maybe I'm not up to any good," she spoke.

Max's face turned apologetic. "Look, lady—"

"Bella."

"Right. Bella. See, I need this job. J pays me pretty well to mostly just hang out here all day. I want to help you, I do, but—and of course, I'm speaking hypothetically, right? Or off the record, or whatever works for you—but if I pass somebody through that could get him in trouble, I'm out of work. Do you see my problem?"

"You've never seen anyone like me here before? Well, sort of like me. My sister is a lot shorter than me, and she has dark spiky black hair."

"J knows your sister?"

"I think so."

Max pondered this for a moment. I smiled at him, and his breathing stuttered. "Tell you what I'll do. I'll give J a call and describe you to him. Let him make the decision."

What did J. Jenks know? Would my description mean something to him? That was a troubling thought.

"My last name is Cullen," she told Max, wondering if that was too much information, and looked at me. "And her's Khotler."

What was Alice doing?

"Cullen and Khotler."

Max dialled, easily picking out the number. "Hey J, it's Max. I know I'm never supposed to call you at this number except in an emergency. . . ."

There was a brief pause from him.

"Well, not exactly. It's those girls who want to see you. . . ."

Another silence.

"I didn't follow normal procedure 'cause she doesn't look like any kind of normal— No— You can't be sure about that. Does she look like one of Kubarev's—? No—let me talk, okay? She says you know her sister or something."

Then, Max turned his gaze on us.

"They look like . . ." His eyes ran from my face to my shoes appreciatively. "Well, they look like freaking supermodels, that's what she looks like." Bella smiled and he winked at us; I gave him a cringed look and then went on. "Rocking body, pale as a sheet, one has dark brown hair almost to her waist and the other has black hair. Both need a good night's sleep—any of this sounding familiar?"

Supermodels? He's joking, right?

"Yeah, so I'm a sucker for the pretty ones, what's wrong with that? I'm sorry I bothered you, man. Just forget it."

"Name," I whispered.

"Oh right. Wait," Max said. "They said Bella Cullen and Violet Khotler. That help?"

There was a beat of dead silence, and then the voice on the other end was abruptly screaming, using a lot of words you didn't often hear outside of truck stops. Max's whole expression changed; all the joking vanished and his lips went pale.

"Because you didn't ask!" Max yelled back, panicked. "I said that, didn't I?"

Beautiful and pale? Did this man know about vampires? Was he one of us? What had Alice gotten us into?

Max waited for a minute through another volley of shouted insults and instructions and then glanced at us with almost frightened eyes. "But you only meet downtown clients on Thursdays—okay, okay! On it." He slid his phone shut.

"He wants to see us?" Bella asked brightly.

Max glowered. "You could have told me you were a priority client."

"We didn't know we were," I said.

"I thought you both might be cops," he admitted. "I mean, you don't look like a cop. But you act kind of weird, beautiful."

Bella shrugged and I smiled.

"Drug cartel?" he guessed.

"Who, us?" Bella asked.

"Yeah. Or your boyfriends or whatever."

"Nope, sorry. I'm not a fan of drugs, and neither is my husband. Just say no and all that."

Max cursed under his breath. "Married. Can't catch a break."

I smiled.

"Mafia?"

"Nope."

"Diamond smuggling?"

"Please! Is that the kind of people you usually deal with, Max?" I inquired. "Maybe you need a new job."

"You've got to be involved in something big. And bad," he mused.

"It's not really like that," Bella assured him.

"That's what they all say. But who else needs papers? Or can afford to pay J's prices for them, I should say. None of my business, anyway," he said and then muttered the word married again.

"You know, I'm single," I said to him, his eyes glimmered with hope, and a smile grew on his face. "I'll keep you in mind."

He gave us an entirely new address with basic directions and then watched us drive away with suspicious, regretful and hopeful eyes.

At this point, I was ready for pretty much anything —some kind of a high- tech lair seemed realistic enough for us. So Max must have given us the wrong address as a joke. Or maybe the lair was underneath this very commonplace strip mall nestled up against a wooded hill in a nice family neighborhood.

Bella pulled into an open spot and looked up at a subtle sign that read JASON SCOTT, ATTORNEY AT LAW.

The office inside was beige with celery green accents, inoffensive and unremarkable. I didn't know what this Jenks man did for a living but he had made a hell of a lot of money. No scent of vampire here; that helped us relax. Just an ordinary human. A fish tank was set into the wall, and a blonde receptionist sat behind the desk.

"Hello," she greeted us. "How can I help you?"

"We're here to see Mr. Scott," Bella answered.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Not exactly," I replied.

She smirked a little. "It could be a while, then. Why don't you have a seat while I—"

April! a man's demanding voice squawked from the phone on her desk. I'm expecting a Ms. Cullen and Miss Khotler shortly.

I smiled and pointed to her and myself.

Send them in immediately. Do you understand? I don't care what it's interrupting.

I could hear something else in his voice besides impatience. Stress. Nerves. Somewhat of anxiety.

"They've just arrived," April said as soon as she could speak.

What? Send them in! What are you waiting for?

"Right away, Mr. Scott!" She got to her feet, fluttering her hands as she led the way down a short hallway, offering me coffee or tea or anything else we might have wanted.

"Here you are," she said as she ushered us through the door into a power office, complete with heavy wooden desk and vanity wall.

"Close the door behind you," a raspy tenor voice ordered.

We examined the man behind the desk while April made a hasty retreat. He was short, dark skinned and balding, probably around fifty-five, with a paunch. He wore a red silk tie with a blue- and-white-striped shirt, and his navy blazer hung over the back of his chair. He was also trembling, blanched to a sickly paste color, with sweat beading on his forehead; I imagined an ulcer churning away under the spare tire.

J recovered himself and rose unsteadily from his chair. He reached his hand across the desk.

"Ms. Cullen, Miss Khotler," he greeted us. "What an absolute delight."

Bella crossed to him and shook his hand quickly once. He cringed slightly at her cold skin but did not seem particularly surprised by it.

"Mr. Jenks," Bella said. "Or do you prefer Scott?"

He then shook my hand, wincing again. "Whatever you wish, of course."

"How about you call me Bella, her Violet and we'll call you J?"

"Like old friends," he agreed, mopping a silk handkerchief across his forehead. He gestured for me to have a seat and took his own. "I must ask, am I finally meeting Mr. Jasper's lovely wife?"

I gave him a brief smile. So this man knew Jasper, not Alice. Knew him, and seemed afraid of him, too.

"His sister-in-law, actually," Bella replied.

He pursed his lips, as if he were grasping for meanings just as desperately as I was. "I trust Mr. Jasper is in good health?" he asked carefully.

"I'm sure he is in excellent health. He's on an extended vacation at the moment."

J looked at me, his dark brown eyes glaring at me. "And how do you know Ms Cullen?"

"We're friends from school," I replied, my arms folded over. "Have you known Alice and Jasper long?"

"I've been working with them for more than twenty years," he answered. "And my late partner knew Jasper fifteen years before that. He is... unusually well-preserved."

"I guess you could say that. What type of work do you do, J?"

"Oh, you know, this and that," he replied. "It's always different, which keeps it interesting."

This seemed to made him feel more comfortable around us. He nodded to himself and templed his fingers. "You both should have come to the main office. My assistants there would have put you straight through to me—no need to go through less hospitable channels."

We just nodded. I wasn't sure why Alice had given us the fake address.

"Ah, well, you're here now. What can I do for you?"

"Papers," Bella said, trying to make her voice sound like she knew what she was talking about.

"Certainly," J agreed at once. "Are we talking birth certificates, death certificates, drivers' licenses, passports, social security cards... ?"

Bella took a deep breath and smiled. We owed Max big time. And then I saw her smile faded and I curled my lip. Alice had sent us here for a reason, and I was sure it was to protect Renesmee.

The only reason she would need this was if she was running. And the only reason Renesmee would be running was if we had lost. If Edward and Bella were running with her, she wouldn't need these documents right away. The IDs were something Edward knew how to get his hands on or make himself, and I he knew ways to escape without them. They could run with her for thousands of miles. They could swim with her across an ocean.

If we were around to save her.

But why would Alice do this? The conflict hasn't even happened. Unless she knew what happened. If either of us survive, what would happen to Renesmee? Would she be alive? Would she be safe?

"Three birth certificates, three passports, one driver's license," Bella said in a low, strained tone.

Three false documents? What was Bella doing? If he noticed the change in her expression, he pretended otherwise.

"The names?"

"Jacob... Wolfe. V... Lilac Wolfe. And... Vanessa Wolfe."

Lilac Wolfe? Well, lilacs are purple flowers but... why was she acting strange? I mean, Nessie seemed like an okay nickname for Vanessa and Jacob would definitely get a kick out of the Wolfe thing.

His pen scratched swiftly across a legal pad. "Middle names?"

"Just put something generic in," she responded.

"If you prefer. Ages?"

"Twenty-seven for the man," Bella said and then she turned her head to me and paused. Her amber eyes scanned and I puzzled at her. Then, she looked back at J. "Twenty for her and five for the girl."

Wait? Twenty for me? I mean, could I pull it off as a twenty years old? I knew Jacob could pull it off. He didn't look like a fifteen year old boy anymore — well, since his transformation anyway — and at the rate Renesmee was growing, it better estimate high. But why was Jacob, Renesmee and I got dragged into it?

"I'll need pictures if you prefer finished documents,"

J said, interrupting my thoughts. "Mr. Jasper usually liked to finish them himself."

"Hold on," Bella said.

She reached to her bag and took out her wallet. I saw she had several family pictures shoved in my wallet, and took two out. One was Jacob holding Renesmee on the front porch steps and the other was Bella and I at Forks High.

"Here you go," she said, giving them to him.

J examined the picture for a moment. "Your daughter is very like you."

Bella tensed. "She's more like her father."

"Who is not this man." He touched Jacob's face.

Her eyes narrowed, and new sweat beads popped out on J's head.

"No. That is a very close friend of the family."

"Forgive me," he mumbled, and the pen began scratching again. "How soon will you need the documents?"

"Can I get them in a week?"

"That's a rush order. It will cost twice as—but forgive me. I forgot with whom I was speaking."

Clearly, he knew Jasper.

"Just give me a number."

He seemed hesitant to say it aloud, though I was sure, having dealt with Jasper, he must have known that price wasn't really an object. Not even taking into consideration the bloated accounts that existed all over the world with the Cullens' various names on them, there was enough cash stashed all over the house to keep a small country afloat for a decade; it reminded me of the way there were always a hundred fishhooks in the back of any drawer at Charlie's house. I doubted anyone would even notice the small stack I'd removed in preparation for today.

J wrote the price down on the bottom of the legal pad. Bella nodded calmly as I anxiously watched all unfold. She had more than that with me. She unclasped her bag again and counted out the right amount— she had it all paper-clipped into five-thousand dollar increments, so it took no time at all.

"There."

"Ah, Bella, you don't really have to give me the entire sum now. It's customary for you to save half to ensure delivery."

Bella smiled wanly at the nervous man. "But I trust you, J. Besides, I'll give you a bonus—the same again when I get the documents."

"That's not necessary, I assure you."

"Don't worry about it."

"So I'll meet you here next week at the same time?"

He gave us a pained look. "Actually, I prefer to make such transactions in places unrelated to my various businesses."

"Of course. I'm sure I'm not doing this the way you expect."

"I'm used to having no expectations when it comes to the Cullen family." He grimaced and then quickly composed his face again. "Shall we meet at eight o'clock a week from tonight at The Pacifico? It's on Union Lake, and the food is exquisite."

"Perfect."

Not that she would be joining him for dinner.

We rose and shook his hand again. This time he didn't flinch. But he did seem to have some new worry on his mind. His mouth was pinched up, his back tense.

"Will you have trouble with that deadline?" Bella asked.

"What?" He looked up, taken off guard by my question. "The deadline? Oh, no. No worries at all. I will certainly have your documents done on time."

I sighed, making J looked up at me. "There’s a problem?"

"N-No," I swallowed. "I thought that Bella and her husband would be traveling together with their daughter."

"Jasper said only three will travel. His instructions were very clear." J turned his head back to Bella. "I'll see you in one week."

Continue to 21. WE WILL FIGHT

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capricorn-0mnikorn · 2 years

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📖Persuasion📖 Listen- and Read-Along, Chapter Twenty

Discussion of Chapter Nineteen Starts Here.

Audio of Karen Savage’s LibriVox Reading on YouTube, starting at Chapter 20 (~20 minutes at normal speed)

Moira Fogarty’s Reading at LibriVox (~22 minutes)

Text of Chapter Twenty at Project Gutenberg.

Synopsis:

The night of Lady Dalrymple’s Concert. Anne’s family is one of the first to arrive, and while they are waiting, Captain Wentworth enters. Anne takes the initiative to step forward and say hello, and after they exchange greetings, she expects him to move on, but he stays by her side. After an awkward silence, he brings up Captain Benwick’s and Louisa’s engagement, and by the way he talks about it, Anne finally understands that he still has feelings for her.

But once the concert starts, Anne is pinned in by her family, and Mister Elliot monopolizes her attention. She almost gets the chance to move seats, and invite him to sit next to her, during the Intermission. But Mister Elliot calls her away before she gets the chance. And Captain Wentworth leaves in a fit of jealousy. And Anne doesn’t know how she can convince him otherwise.

Quotes that stood out to me:

After talking, however, of the weather, and Bath, and the concert, their conversation began to flag, and so little was said at last, that she was expecting him to go every moment, but he did not; he seemed in no hurry to leave her;

There is an excerpt a bit later (that I will not spoil for those who don’t know the novel) that I’ve seen repeatedly praised as “The most romantic thing ever!” But for my money, I don’t think it can top this moment of awkward, staring-at-feet, silence.

Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret, escorted by Mr Elliot and Colonel Wallis, who had happened to arrive nearly at the same instant, advanced into the room.

We finally see Colonel Wallis, here, instead of hearing him talked about by others, after the fact (and I don’t think he and Mister Elliot “just happened” to enter with Lady Dalrymple(. And this, too:

The party was divided and disposed of on two contiguous benches: Anne was among those on the foremost, and Mr Elliot had manœuvred so well, with the assistance of his friend Colonel Wallis, as to have a seat by her. Miss Elliot [that’s Elizabeth], surrounded by her cousins, and the principal object of Colonel Wallis’s gallantry, was quite contented.

It’s subtle (blink and you’ll miss it), but there’s a definite sense of deliberate manipulation -- like a pair of pickpockets, working the crowd, with Colonel Wallis providing the distraction so Mister Elliot can get what he wants. It’s a limitation of the form, having to condense even a short-ish novel into ~90 minutes, but I miss the presence of Colonel Wallis in the two adaptations I’ve seen.

Mr Elliot was not disappointed in the interest he hoped to raise. No one can withstand the charm of such a mystery. To have been described long ago to a recent acquaintance, by nameless people, is irresistible; and Anne was all curiosity. She wondered, and questioned him eagerly; but in vain. He delighted in being asked, but he would not tell.

Mister Elliot is reminding me of a 21st Century “Pick-up Artist,” here.

her attention was caught by other sounds immediately behind her, which rendered every thing else trivial. Her father and Lady Dalrymple were speaking.

“A well-looking man,” said Sir Walter, “a very well-looking man.”

“A very fine young man indeed!” said Lady Dalrymple. “More air than one often sees in Bath. Irish, I dare say.”

“No, I just know his name. A bowing acquaintance. Wentworth; Captain Wentworth of the navy. His sister married my tenant in Somersetshire, the Croft, who rents Kellynch.”

(!!) I have the feeling that this praise is not spontaneous on Sir Walter’s part (considering how reluctantly he acknowledged Captain Wentworth earlier), but that Lady Dalrymple had praised him first, and Sir Walter was eager to agree.

They talked for a few minutes more; the improvement held; he even looked down towards the bench, as if he saw a place on it well worth occupying; when at that moment a touch on her shoulder obliged Anne to turn round. It came from Mr Elliot.

I’m willing to bet (three pens and a shiny rock) that Mr. Elliot picked that moment to interrupt on purpose. I didn’t think so on my first read. But I think so now.

#📖Persuasion📖 Read-Along #Chapter Twenty

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abaeble · 2 years

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okay wow that’s cruel @zeppazariel :(

#crimson rivers #zeppazariel #why #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus fic #marauders #marauders era #chapter twenty

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bayisdying · 1 year

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Fanboy and Lucky's Happiest Day? Their wedding day. Chapter 20; Coming Soon 🥰

#top gun #top gun maverick #mickey fanboy garcia #baylie lucky steele #fanboy x lucky #lucky x fanboy #lucky penny #chapter twenty #THE WEDDING

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isabellafoster13 · 2 years

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Chapter Twenty: The End

Lucy sat on the front porch of Minnie's house, staring at the mess that the fight a week ago had caused. It was a good thing that no houses were close enough to be destroyed. She sighed, remembering what had followed after the fight.

Gray thanked Minnie for healing his injuries and turned to an also healed Lucy. They were waiting for the Rune Knights to arrive, who Minnie had called immediately after the fight. The ice-make mage asked, "are you in a guild?"

Lucy blushed at his smile and shook her head, answering, "I've been conflicted about that."

Gray raised an eyebrow, asking, "what do you mean?"

Lucy sighed and sat on the porch before she looked up at Gray and patted the spot next to her and waited for him to take a seat by her side. She then explained, "well, I've been pretty torn between joining Fairy Tail or Sabertooth. However, I've also been conflicted about if I want to stay here in Crocus or join a guild."

Gray stared out at the damage. After a few moments of silence, he said, "I don't really know what to say, honestly. I'm not good at advice. But, I can tell you that you will figure out what you want to do. Just be patient with yourself and don't stress yourself out. Okay?'"

Lucy smiled at him and muttered, "thanks, Gray." She then leaned toward him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, watching with an amused smirk as a blush spread across his face and he looked away, coughing into his fist. Lucy chuckled lightly and turned her head away as well in an attempt to hide her own blush.

Gray then stood up and offered his hand to help her to her feet. Lucy accepted the help and asked, "going back to Fairy Tail?"

Gray nodded, responding, "yeah, once I turn Kit over to the Rune Knights and get the reward money. How much of it do you want?"

Lucy blinked a few times, surprised that he was offering to give her a part of the reward money. She then answered, "I don't want any of it."

Gray insisted, "you helped. It's only fair that I give you some of it."

Lucy shook her head. "No, No, I really don't want any of it."

The pair went back and forth a bit before Gray finally gave up. He then said, "if you choose Fairy Tail, then maybe we can go on a date sometime."

Lucy blushed and responded, "yeah, maybe."

They then said goodbye and Gray walked away to retrieve the job request from his hotel room before returning to give Kit over to the Rune Knights. Lucy walked inside the house and closed the door, sighing as she leaned against it. She stayed there for a few moments before she called to Minnie that she was going to bed and made her way upstairs to her bedroom.

Lucy sighed once again. She heard the front door open and close before Minnie remarked, "you've been out here for an hour." The older woman then sat next to her.

A short period of silence followed before Lucy asked, "you're a wizard?" She looked over at Minnie to see her nod, looking back at her. The blonde then inquired, "are you in a guild?"

Minnie shook her head. She looked away and answered in an almost whisper, "I was part of a dark guild."

Lucy gasped, eyes widening. She blurted, "you were a dark mage?!"

Minnie nodded, looking back at Lucy with a sad smile and regret in her purple eyes, "I'm not proud of it, but yes, I was a dark mage. I've committed a lot of crimes, murder being just one. One day I was captured by a wizard from Lamia Scale and put in jail. While I was imprisoned, the wizard that captured me visited me often. She managed to get me to reform, and after I was released, I left the dark guild I was in and ended up here."

Lucy stared at Minnie, shocked at the information that had been revealed to her. She found it difficult to imagine Minnie being a dark mage that would commit such horrible crimes. She then said, "I'm proud of you for changing."

Minnie looked over at her before she smiled and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a hug, which Lucy happily returned. They then pulled away and the blonde grinned as she said, "I think I know what I want to do with my life."

Minnie raised an eyebrow, responding, "really? What's your decision?"

Lucy jumped to her feet and rushed inside, calling behind her, "I'll tell you while I help you make lunch." She heard Minnie laugh as she stood up and followed her inside the house and into the kitchen.

Lucy hooked her keyring onto her belt and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She smiled at herself, observing how pretty she looked in her form-fitting, white shirt and black pants that hugged her curves very well. She knew that she no longer had to take her keys to work with her, but she found that she couldn't leave without them.

The celestial wizard looked around her bedroom before she looked back at her reflection. The house didn't make her as distressed as it did at first, an improvement that Minnie had been helping her toward.

She had also decided that she would stay in Crocus with Minnie, working at her bakery and cafe, for a few more months before she would go to Magnolia Town and join Fairy Tail. She wasn't fond of seeing the mages from Fairy Tail that she was attracted to, which had caused her distress, but she also liked the idea of befriending them. Maybe she would even fall in love with one of them and move on from her attraction toward the rest.

She was excited to join a guild, but at that moment, she was focusing on enjoying her now peaceful life in Crocus. As she was about to head out of her bedroom, Lucy heard Minnie call from downstairs, "Lucy, dear, come on! We don't want to be late!" Lucy smiled and rushed out to walk to work with her surrogate mother.

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

That is the end. I hope you enjoyed this story. If you're interested in reading my other story, then go on to it. "Quest for the Eighty-Eight Keys." Just please read the warnings part first. It's very important.

#fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #gray fullbuster #gray x lucy #my oc #happy ending #chapter twenty #multi chapter story #the end

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