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aidanchaser · 6 months

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Song Fic set to The Butterfly Effect by FJØRA

Chapter 1/8 - Verse 1 - cocooned in your own fear

cocooned in your own fear Adrien doesn’t think this is his fault. He’s home all day and he isn’t allowed out. Of course he’s going to explore. Of course he’s going to stick his nose into places that he shouldn’t. Of course he’s going to find things that were meant to be hidden away.

If anything, it’s his father’s fault for leaving the office empty and unlocked. Adrien knows he isn’t allowed in here, but how is he supposed to resist? How is he supposed to ignore his mother’s portrait? Why wouldn’t he reach out and touch her, as if he might be able to touch some memory of her. Adrien keeps her on the background of his computer, but his father keeps a larger-than-life shrine. Of course he would be drawn to it.

The golden splendor of the portrait is cool beneath Adrien’s fingers. He feels the catch between tiles and he tilts his head in surprise. He didn’t realize this was a mosaic, didn’t realize the colors are their own pieces of glass, pieces that shift beneath his fingers.

It isn’t his fault that he finds the ones that move, that give beneath the weight of his touch.

you never were here It’s warm in the basement beneath the house. His heart pounds and his ears ring as he crosses from the elevator to the illuminated platform. The lilies grow well in the artificial light and the carefully controlled heat and humidity, and they aren’t the only life form down here.

Adrien knows, somewhere deep in his gut, what he’s going to find before he reaches the glass case at the end of the walkway. Even then, when he finally gets close enough that the white lights no longer cast a glare on the glass, when he finally catches a glimpse of her face, his breath catches in his chest.

She looks asleep. He can see no breath in her lungs nor flutter in her eyes, but her smile is soft and her skin perfectly preserved. There’s no evidence of illness, no signs of decomposition.

Adrien presses his hand to the glass. He smudges dust and dew. Breath and sobs alike catch in his chest.

His mother is here. And if he understands the purpose of the green light indicator on her glass cocoon, she’s alive.

“Maman?” he manages, voice weak and eyes burning with tears. He pushes on the glass and it gives as easily as the hidden buttons of the portrait had. With a soft hiss of pressure released, there is now nothing between him and his mother.

He holds her to his chest and his tears flow freely. “Maman, it’s me,” he whispers. “Maman, it’s me,” he cries. “Maman, it’s me,” he begs with all he has, but she is still and unmoving. As if she were dead.

Though it feels like he is breaking every bone in his body, he sets her back down in her coffin-like bed. His tears persist, even as he tries to scrub his face dry.

“Maman,” he tries again, in a final desperate whisper, but his prayer goes unheard.

He can’t bring himself to close the glass again. His vision blurs with tears until he blinks them away.

In the overhead light, something glints on her black blouse. Adrien rubs his eyes again, but the glimmer does not resolve itself into a familiar shape. It’s a brooch, he thinks, but not one he’s ever seen before. Carefully, he unpins the fan-shaped brooch from her blouse and turns it over in his hands.

The metal is cool, and the pale blue enamel is threaded with a spider web of cracks. Adrien isn’t entirely sure how the pin manages to hold itself together. It glints again, even though he isn’t tilting it in the light. The five onyx gems that rest along the edge of the brooch glimmer with an internal light, like the eyes of a peacock come alive, and a creature, painted in the deepest indigo with brilliant red eyes both on its face and on its fan-shaped tail, appears before Adrien.

you always were somewhere else As the creature spins its tale, grief gives way to anger. A new agony settles into Adrien’s chest.

When his father returns, Adrien is waiting for him in his office. He has left the golden portrait wide open and wears the peacock proudly on his breast. He crosses his arms so that his father is sure to see that Adrien now wears his mother’s wedding ring. He wants no illusions about what he knows. He will not give his father an opportunity to lie.

“Adrien, what is this?”

Adrien watches the way his father’s eyes flick around the room, putting the pieces together. “I wanted to ask you that.”

Gabriel’s voice trembles low in his throat. “Where did you find that brooch?”

“Where do you think?”

“Take it off, now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“Adrien, I am only protecting you—”

But his father’s hand reaches for the wedding band he still has not removed since Emilie’s memorial service and Adrien knows he’ll never be able to believe anything Gabriel says from here on.

“Duusu,” Adrien hisses before his father can attempt to command him, “spread my feathers.”

“Adrien, don’t!”

you lose you lose all the time It’s the spare second Gabriel gives him, warning him against activating the peacock miraculous that gives Adrien the upper hand.

Adrien did not expect his father to have a miraculous of his own, did not expect Gabriel to shout, “Nooroo, dark wings, rise!” but he’s unconcerned.

While Gabriel is donning his power, Adrien has already plucked a feather from his blue and black fan, just as Duusu had instructed him, and said, “Bring my my creation to life.”

The feather falls into a sheet of paper on Gabriel’s desk. As Adrien snatches the paper in his hand, a full ream springs to life and take a human-esque shape. It rushes at Gabriel, ignorant of the violet suit he is now cloaked in and the black cane with an amethyst head. Gabriel swipes the cane at the animated papers, but it only distorts the sentimonster’s form for a moment.

The paper leaps at Gabriel, lunging into him, smothering him the way Adrien has always felt smothered in this house.

Though the blue double-breasted suit of his transformation ought to be tight and restricting, it moves with Adrien as smoothly as liquid. He steps forward, and the paper parts for him. Adrien reaches for his father’s hand, even as Gabriel attempts to claw the paper from his face. Adrien’s focus is solely on the silver wedding band, and he fails to see the lavender butterfly that flits through the gaps between the animated papers and lands on the fan in Adrien’s hand.

“Listen to me,” his father’s voice echoes in his head, and all of Adrien’s grief and anguish seems to double.

“I’ve done nothing but listen! For fourteen years I’ve had no choice but to listen,” Adrien snarls back. His grief feels powerful. He clutches at it desperately, drawing it deeper into his chest.

“We can bring her back. With the power of the cat and ladybug miraculouses, we can bring her back. If you’d just listen—”

But Adrien is done listening. His head pounds as he tries to both claim this new power and reject his father’s offer. The magic does not seem interested in helping him without his father’s consent, but Adrien doesn’t care about what his father wants. It’s Adrien’s turn to decide what he wants.

With a shout, he reaches through the monstrous ream of papers, unbothered by the papercuts that tear through his magically constructed gloves. He grabs the butterfly-shaped brooch at his father’s throat. Gabriel grabs Adrien’s wrist. Adrien casts aside his fan and wrestles both brooch and ring from his father.

you never could shine you wish you could fly away Gabriel falls to the floor as the magic falls from his body. The paper continues to smother him, and its thin edges tear at his hands and cheeks.

“Adrien, stop this,” he says, voice as desperate as Adrien’s had been at his mother’s bedside.

But Adrien pins the butterfly brooch to his chest beside the peacock and studies the lavender kwami that appears before him. The butterfly that had flown into him, still charged with his father’s magic, flits around the room in search of a host. It seems undecided between Adrien’s grief and Gabriel’s desperation, something Adrien can now feel for himself, the way he knows the mind of his sentimonster, the way he can sense the feather split between his parents’ wedding rings.

He slides his father’s wedding band on top of his mother’s. He feels whole for a brief moment before something in his chest cracks. He grimaces through gritted teeth and sinks to one knee. The paper flutters weakly and swirls, but seems directionless, without target.

Gabriel takes the opportunity to sit up. “Adrien—”

But Adrien picks up the fan and holds it out at his father in a warning. The paper reforms with intention, even as Adrien clutches his chest.

“Adrien, this will kill you.”

Adrien’s upper lip curls, revealing his clenched teeth. “It can’t kill me,” he spits out, “if I’m not alive to begin with.”

#ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #adrien agreste #songfic #ml songfic #ml

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cloverque · 7 months

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paper heart (prosciutto)

masterlist, ch 1: panic at the gala

shortly after you were assigned the mission, giorno cordially invited you to a gala. seeing as how you'll be away from the group for a while, you decided to take part, just this time.

5174 words

After we moisturise, the next step is to apply sunscreen. I use this brand from Dior– the latest Diorsnow sunscreen with UV protection!

You sat on your bathroom counter, swinging your feet. With a Youtube video playing on your phone, you gently patted sunscreen into your face. The girl in the video– a young lady with rich pink hair– showcased a white tube. Yours sat on your lap while other products were scattered on the counter.

I'm a huge fan of this brand. I always buy their best sellers and give them to my best friends.

You smiled knowingly. As the girl on the screen rambled, you began touching up on your face. Just the bare minimum, seeing as how you were already late.

During your meeting with Giorno, which occurred a week ago, he invited you to a party he was hosting. He had handed you a formal invitation, like always: a letter stamped with a wax seal. To attend or not to attend– you sat on the fence until the last minute.

When he first took over, you happily turned up for his gala. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day, but you swore off the rest ever since. The reason was simple: you didn't want to work overtime. When you showed up, you quickly realised you had to socialise with coworkers outside usual office hours.

Rest was important! How else would you stay in tip top shape? So there was no way you would sacrifice your precious down-time over fancy parties. Even if they were hosted by Don Giovanna.

So what implored you to accept his invite? Soon you would be deployed for your mission; possibly far from home for a while. With that in mind, you wanted to hang out with your friends for a bit. But besides that, there was another driving factor. You stared at your reflection, stroking your lashes with mascara.

Curiosity, it was curiosity.

"I'd like you to be there. There's... Someone I'd like you to meet," he said that day. He pushed the envelope towards you with a faint smile.

You took it in your hands and blinked. "An important person?"

He fiddled with the ladybug brooch on his chest. A faint tinge of red dusted his cheeks. With a solemn nod, he planted a seed of curiosity in your mind. You never knew he was capable of being abashed.

"I wonder who he's talking about," you pondered as you checked your work. What kind of person were they for him to make that sort of look?

A knock on your bathroom door derailed your train of thought. "(y/n), you've been in there for an hour. What's taking you so long?"

"Oh, Fugo," You carefully swept a balm against your lips. "You should know by now not to rush a lady. Especially when she's in the bathroom."

"Give me a break. I've been standing here waiting like an idiot for thirty minutes."

"Some gentleman you are..." You muttered begrudgingly. It was him who volunteered to chaperone you to the party in the first place.

After his redemption– when he defeated the Narcotics Team for Giogio– he managed to tone it down a notch. The therapy he sought worked out too. His anger management issues had gotten better, but there was still a limit to his patience. And once that figurative thread broke, it would take more than apologies to placate him.

With that in mind, you hopped off the counter. You took one last look in the mirror. Tonight you were dressed in a satin backless dress. Its spaghetti-thin straps criss crossed behind, showing your supple back. The dress also had a side slit that teased your thighs. To complete the look, a silk shawl draped over your shoulders and around your arms.

Your outfit was a perfect mix between sexy and chic. A smile crept up your face and you blew a kiss at your reflection. Feeling like you could take on the world (and a furious Fugo), you were about to leave when you jumped up.

"Ah! I almost forgot," you chuckled and picked up the pin on the counter. It was a hair pin, a metallic accessory fashioned into a unique heart shape. You clipped it onto your hair and hurried out the door.

Standing outside was none other than Pannacotta Fugo, dressed in a custom tuxedo. His hair was pushed back, with a few strands hanging over his knitted brows. The strawberry blonde had his arms crossed, fingers tapping impatiently on his bicep.

"Are you finally done?" He muttered through clenched teeth.

"Gee, thanks for waiting," You rolled your eyes and walked past him. He trembled with frustration, and you almost felt bad. Tardiness was one of his biggest pet peeves, and for him to be late, without meaning too... Well, you had better head out, fast!

You swiftly packed your purse and the two of you left your apartment. At the entrance awaited a squeaky clean limousine. Fugo settled into a seat across from you, muttering about how embarrassingly unpunctual he was. You glanced out the window and as the car's engine revved to life again, you began to drown him out. The car picked up speed and zoomed to its destination: Giorno's mansion.

✶

By the time you arrived, it was nearly ten. An hour had passed since it had started. The car stopped outside the mansion's grand gates. An armed guard approached the driver's side and after a swift identification check, he opened the gate and the car pulled into the front yard. The chauffeur stopped the limousine outside the front door, where a pair of butlers stood. Wordlessly, they opened the doors for you and Fugo, and led you two up the stairs and into the mansion.

A red carpet was rolled out in the hallway. Sculptures, marble heads and oil paintings lined the walls, archaic pieces that Giorno attained for who-knows-how-many lire. Soft music lingered in the air whilst you began your ascend up a flight of stairs.

The long, winding staircase led the two of you to the second floor, which was decorated with more relics of the past. A few guests stood idly in the hallways, talking in hushed whispers. A couple swayed drunkenly beside a portrait of Don Giovanna. A glass of wine jangled from each of their hands. Hopefully they would not splash it on the painting.

After twisting and turning in the hallway, you finally found the source of the music. Another pair of butlers opened the doors for your friend and you.

The once muffled tunes converted to melodious harmonies, courtesy of a live orchestra. Violins, cellos and brass instruments and a piano were at their disposal. Situated on one end, they played a classical piece. On another side was a buffet spread, with cakes and delicacies a group of women were fawning over. You were soon to be one of them.

In the center people chatted idly while some danced to the lovely music. You caught sight of Mista, chatting with a lady in earnest. He was free of his sweater and instead dressed in a wonderful three piece suit. As for Giogio, who stood by the gunslinger, he was clad in stunning white and gold, wearing a soft primrose pink dress shirt. His long hair fell in voluminous waves behind him.

You searched the group they were with. Everybody maintained a fair amount of distance from each other. Which one of them was his special somebody?

You were about to greet them when your companion grabbed you by the end of your shawl. Fugo lifted up a finger, "I have some business to attend to, so I'll be back later. Remember, if you want to leave let me know. I will accompany you back, you hear me?"

You pried your accessory from him and rolled your eyes. "Yessir. See you later, sir."

The strawberry blonde exhaled, possibly from annoyance. He disappeared into the crowd and you gazed over at the dessert table. You visibly gasped and placed your hand over your heart.

It was radiant! In your sights were numerous three-tiered stands. An assortment of fairy cakes, with different frosting and toppings sparkled and shone on the stands. You licked your lips and rubbed your hands together, all goblin-like.

"Hehe... You can tell me about your special someone later, Giogio. Right now it's chow time!"

. . .

"Are you ladies seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Indeed... How can she pig out during such an elegant event like this?"

"The real question is how did she end up here in the first place?"

You turned to the women standing a few feet away. Just like you, they were dressed elegantly in gowns you saw on fashion runways. You chewed on your tenth fairy cake.

Even under your watchful gaze, they continued with their not-so inconspicuously whispers. You blinked innocently.

Rosa Romano. Caro Bianchi. Helen Bellomo. Daughters of high-ranking officials in Passione.

Rosa, the first born of Capo Romano. He dabbled in the gambling sector, a notable stand user. But unlike her father, she had not inherited a stand. Caro Bianchi. Born out of wedlock, her parents were faded aristocrats. They had history with the group, before Giorno took over. Also not a stand user. And Helen, daughter of a tycoon. Her family and her were sworn members of the gang. None of which were stand users.

In short, they were nothing to be concerned about. And from their ignorance, they didn't know you were part of the Passione's Escort Team. Excellent.

You finished the last of your cake and began on another. As you ate, you tuned them out and focused on the rich creamy treats. It mattered not how others perceived you, so long as you were happy. And with nothing but years of successful missions under your name, not even the Boss had a right to deny you of sugary, gastronomic delights.

"I can't believe you're actually here! You, who stays away from all of the Don's parties. Who would've thought?"

You blinked and a woman came into view. A familiar face had appeared. Fifty-something, the woman had her silver hair in 1940's waves. She wore a vintage cocktail dress, with matching elbow length gloves. A unique heart-shaped mole rested above her cupid's bow.

Your eyes lit up in recognition, "Signora Lucia?! Capo, I–"

"Nuh-uh! Today I'm not your Capo, my dear." She put a gloved finger to your lips. You fluttered your lashes, cross-eyed as you looked at her finger. She smiled cheekily. "Tonight I'm just a regular old lady."

You tilted your head, confused. She waved a waiter down and cherry-picked a glass of wine.

This lady here was none other than the Escort Team's capable leader– Signora Lucia. She was an aged and loyal member of Passione, and had served as the team's chief for years. Even during the period when you betrayed the old boss, Diavolo.

Giorno managed to trick everyone into thinking he had always been their leader, but you suspected Signora Lucia knew better. But even if she did, her loyalty never wavered. She was just as dedicated to her new Don just as she was to her first. And she was benevolent to you when you became branded as a traitor, later accepting you back with open arms.

Signora Lucia is a strange person. Even I have a hard time guessing what she's thinking half the time... You ruminated.

Gingerly swirling its contents, she gazed at you through hooded eyes. "This gala is swarming with the rich. I'm guessing today's a special occasion."

Your eyes flicked to the group of girls, still standing nearby. "Now that you mentioned it, there's also an unusually high number of women present today. I wonder if something's up."

With that in mind, you scanned the crowds for Giorno and Mista. They were preoccupied with another group of people, though this time a lady was between them. Her arm was looped around the blonde's, a dazzling hair pin in her bun. She wore an elegant cheongsam, and like her dress, you guessed she was from the East.

Who is she? She wasn't there a few moments ago. Could she be another woman Giorno has bagged tonight? Geez, talk about suave.

You looked down at your plate, piled with stacks of paper cups. The trio from earlier were now looking in your friend's direction. Like you, they ruminated over the unknown stranger attached to him. Subconsciously, your eye twitched. Signora Lucia took a tentative sip of her wine, watching you.

"I need some fresh air," You whispered to yourself. Leaving your Capo behind, you made your way to one of the many balconies in the room.

When nobody was looking, you pushed open the door just enough to slip through. You quietly closed it behind you and approached the railing. Leaning against the cold stone, your gaze instantly fell on the courtyard below. Even in the darkness of night you could see a table, the only furniture in sight. You and your friends would enjoy tea parties on that same table, sharing snacks and stories with one another.

An image of a certain blonde, smiling, swiftly surfaced in your mind. An unknown sadness bloomed in your heart. You already knew what it was, but you didn't understand why.

When did these feelings start? You weren't sure. They certainly weren't there when you first met him; back at the hideout in the vineyard many years back. Nor was it when he saved you from the persistent stand in the plane to Sardinia.

A gentle breeze tousled your tresses. Gently, you tucked some hair behind your ear. "Maybe I don't actually like him. Maybe I'm mixing up admiration with this."

Crrk...

The doors creaked open and you turned around. A man slowly stepped onto the balcony. He was dressed in beige and cream hues, a tweed jacket hanging over his broad shoulders. Champagne yellow hair was waxed back neatly, secured in little notches tied behind his head. A cigarette rested between his lips.

"Oh, I didn't know this place was already taken," His voice was a deep rumble. He held the little stick between his fingers. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," You gestured at the space around you. "There's room for more."

He joined you, back pressed against the stone balustrade. With a fancy little lighter, he lit up his cigarette. The blonde man took a long drag before puffing out a cloud of smoke. The scent of tobacco was sure to cling to your clothes, even if you kept your distance. Its dark tendrils began billowing in the balcony. Silently, the two of you stood together, watching the stars twinkle.

You knew who he was, and perhaps he knew who you were too. But your objective today was to find out who Giogio's special someone was, not to exchange formalities with him. You opted to stay quiet until he spoke up.

"I overestimated the crowd today," he muttered, and you glanced at him. His brows were knitted together, fingers in a little v-sign as he held the cigarette. "The last party wasn't as busy as this one."

"It's been a few years since I last attended, so I can't comment," you half-heartedly stated.

He raised a singular brow, "A few years, huh? Hm. I believe I've never seen you before. Is this our first meeting?"

You crossed your arms on the railing and glanced up at him. A finger rested on your lips as you exhaled nonchalantly. "Who knows? But I know who you are. You're an assassin from La Squadra Esecuzioni."

Quiet resumed between you and the man. Without warning, the man swiftly crushed the cig against the stone. You straightened up slowly, holding his gaze. He was a man of average height, a head taller than you. He glared down at you as you peered up at him indifferently.

"Should I be worried about you, signora?"

"'I'm nothing more than what you actually see, but I am also the complete opposite.' A famous singer, Keren Ann, once said that," You answered, crossing your arms. The tails of your shawl fluttered in the cold breeze. An unassuming smile graced your lips.

"With that said, please decide that yourself, signore Prosciutto."

"Ahem. I hope I'm not interrupting something."

You froze at the sound of a familiar, buttery voice. Your face fell as you slowly turned. Giorno stood at the entrance, his brows furrowed in uncertainty. The lady from before stared curiously at you and Prosciutto. Your eyes fell on their intertwined arms.

"Giogio," you cleared your throat. Why were you suddenly feeling restless? You fiddled with your purse. "Um, no. You're not interrupting anything."

You ignored Prosciutto's questioning gaze as he side-eyed you. Giorno visibly relaxed and he smiled faintly.

"I'm glad that you could make it. Fugo told me a while ago that the two of you had arrived safely, but I was busy attending to some guests. Forgive me."

"Yeah, you were real busy back there, huh?" You teased half-heartedly before swallowing. "So um, who's this beautiful lady over here?"

He gestured to the both of you, "Let me introduce you two. This is (y/n l/n), a close friend of mine. She's like family."

You placed a hand on your chest and bowed slightly, lowering your head. These were pretentious formalities, but you didn't want to embarrass the head of Passione. Your nails dug into your dress discreetly.

"And this lovely lady here is–"

An awful sound cut him off. Screams of terror filled the ballroom and you peered past them. Your eyes widened, the sea of people were moving in different directions all at once. A familiar friend shoved past a couple and burst into the balcony.

"Fugo!" Giorno met him halfway. His voice was steady yet demanding. "Tell me what's happening, quickly."

"It's a stand attack! We need to evacuate everyone, Giogio." He panted, gripping his arm. Something pitter pattered onto the floor, and you realised Fugo was bleeding.

A gunshot rang out, and you hoped it was Mista firing. Giorno laid a hand on Fugo's arm, and his stand materialised beside him. A golden glow surrounded his wounded appendage, and you glanced over to the lady beside the guys, looking lost like a lamb in the wilderness.

More screams erupted and you whipped your head around. Fugo sucked in a pained breath and gritted his teeth. "We have to do something about these people. Most of them aren't even stand users– they're defenseless!"

"That's where I come in," you held Giorno and Fugo's confused gazes. Conviction shone in your eyes. "There's no time to evacuate, so I'll be taking them to safety myself."

Passione's Don nodded solemnly. He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm counting on you." You nodded and Fugo and him rushed into the fray.

Prosciutto and the lady remained with you and you turned to them. "This is gonna get freaky, so stick close to me." Obediently, they shuffled close as you opened your purse. You fished out a notepad, one of the many you kept within your little bag. With a flip of your wrist, you whipped it open.

"Paper Heart!" A (colour) aura enveloped you and the heart-shaped pin in your hair. The metal eroded away and became an origami-like texture. "Transport all the guests into this piece of paper!"

Fwoop!

The three of you were sucked into the notepad. It fell onto the ground and began changing its form to a paper heart, shaped much like your hairpin. Transported into a realm of blank whiteness, you stood among a horde of confused and panicked people. With a quick head count, you estimated about a hundred or so were present.

The three women from the desert table stood together, clinging to each other. They were almost pitiful with their panicked rambling. You cupped your hands and bellowed, "Don't worry, the Boss will take care of things from here. I've brought you to a secure place, the enemy can't come here. You're safe now!"

Heaves of relief filled the space. Luckily most in Passione knew what a stand was.. So it took little brain cells to put two and two together. You gazed up at the blank ceiling.

"So you're a stand user," Prosciutto drawled. You had forgotten the man existed in the heat of the moment. He glanced around, curiously. "Interesting."

You chose not to respond. Crossing your arms, you stood quietly, thinking. Only you could allow a person to enter and leave this paper realm. Even if somebody discovered the paper heart in the balcony, there was no possible way to enter. And if they ripped the paper to shreds, Paper Heart would transport everyone to one of the many notebooks stashed away in your purse.

As for what laid beyond this world, you had willed for Giorno and his personal guards to remain. Mista and Fugo included. Your stand wasn't the confrontational type, unlike theirs. Hoping this was enough, you looked up at the colourless ceiling.

A bead of sweat slid down your cheek. You wiped it away and realised your pulse had spiked. You held a hand over your chest. Transporting this many people at once was taxing on you, a feat you just recklessly pulled off.

Good grief, what fools would challenge the boss during an event of such a large scale? You sighed. It was a good thing you chose to attend the party.

"Um, I hate to be that one person... But what's happening, (l/n)?" The lady in the cheongsam muttered. She gazed around curiously and frantically. "Where's Giorno...?"

You watched her from your peripheral. Based on her concern, you figured she was a non-stand user. It wouldn't make sense if you shared your stand ability–not like you wanted to– to a complete stranger, even if she was close to Giorno. That was a secret, like your identity. So you decided against it.

"He's probably neutralising the enemy as we speak. He'll be fine. But, uh, are you feeling okay?"

She nodded meekly, and you breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing you'd want was for her to be hurt. She seemed like someone special, after all.

Wait, hold that thought...

"Miss," she turned to you with her big doe eyes. You swallowed nervously and pointed a finger, "Could you be... His–"

A shrill scream pierced the air. You whipped your head around as your heart pounded anxiously. A beady-eyed man held a woman in a headlock, his bicep rippling underneath his suit as he choked her. She squirmed against him, raking his arms. The other guests were pressed against the walls of Paper Heart, trembling like mice cornered by a cat.

He's one of them...!?

You reached out and he spun to you, pointing a gun. A Beretta, standard police edition. Squinting your eyes, you lowered your arms.

"I'm guessing you're one of those freaks with abilities!" He practically dragged the lady with him. The thug stood face to face with you, so close that you could feel his lukewarm breath. "I'm taking her hostage. I have no clue in hell where I am, but I wancha ta bring me back ta my buddies."

He pressed the barrel against the lady's head. Tears streamed down her makeup-caked face. Mascara smudged against her wide eyes. He sported a shit-eating grin as you frowned. "If ya try anything funny, I'll blow her brains out, ya hear?"

"P-Please... Help..." croaked his victim. Now that you were up close, you realised it was Rosa, Capo Romano's daughter. You bit your lip.

Was her father not here today? Where was a powerful stand user when you needed one? The fear in everyone's faces told you everything you needed to know: you were alone. Clenching her fist, you narrowed your eyes.

I need a plan. But what do I do?

You looked around for ideas and when you met the eyes of the guests, they screamed pleas of help with just their stares alone. You locked eyes with the Eastern lady too, and she was gazing at you with hope and anticipation.

You inhaled deeply and tried to gather your thoughts. The man hollered about something in the background as you began drowning him out.

Don't forget, you have the upper hand here. This is your world and stand ability, after all.

"Fine. I'll take you out. But first, I have a question for you," You placed a hand on your hip and pointed at him, jutting your chin out. "Tell me. Do you wipe yourself after a dump, or are you the kinda guy to use the bidet?"

The man cocked an unkempt brow. He bared his teeth, "Huh?! What the hell are you asking, bitch?!"

A barrage of his saliva and spit landed on your dress. You wiped it away and frowned. "C'mon, just answer the question," You tilted your head mockingly.

He hesitated before rolling his eyes, "I wipe myself after, duh. I don't like the feeling of water on my ass– Huh?"

The thug glanced around, gun in hand. He looked under his arm questioningly; his hostage had disappeared. Everybody else had too. Then he realised he was in a toilet cubicle.

"W-Where am I?!"

"You're slow. Slow to realise the predicament you're in, I mean."

Your eyes met his as you stood at full height before him. He, who was stuck on the surface of toilet paper, squirmed in his confines. He pounded his fist against the tissue. However, as if he was trapped behind a concrete wall, the paper refused to give way. The man began sweating profusely.

"You conniving woman! I told you to bring me back to my friends!"

You smiled sweetly and lowered yourself to eye level with your tiny captive. "Did you forget what I said?" Your orbs darkened as your lips thinned.

"I said I'd take you out myself."

He hollered profanities as you began unrolling the toilet paper. With a bundle in your hand, you crunched it into a ball and tossed it into the toilet bowl. Wordlessly, you flushed the man down. His garbled curses faded out and disappeared.

You walked out of the cubicle and washed your hands. Paper Heart allowed you to utilise anything as long as it was a form of paper. From bamboo paper, recycled sheets, newspapers... Teleporting from one source to another was child's play– and for those that remained in the paper realm, they were bound to it forever.

"That's what you get for thinking a woman is an easy target." You mumbled before summoning yourself back into the previous realm.

People fussed over Romano's daughter, who had coughed up a storm since you left her. A nasty bruise had formed itself around her neck. A cut traced her nape too. Everyone parted for you, and you kneeled beside her. She gazed at you with gratitude, a far different expression from your first encounter earlier.

"Thank you for saving my life. I don't know how you did it, but thank you..."

You managed a smile. As you rummaged through your purse, you took another notepad and ripped out a page. Carefully, you placed it over her cut. Like a regular bandaid, you plastered it to her skin. It gently fizzed into her skin, and the fleshy part of the wound was overlaid with paper.

She tenderly held her neck and you stood up. People rushed to help her to her feet, and you stepped aside. Suddenly, you heard a squeaky voice echo around you.

"(y/n), you're in there, right?" A hiccup followed after. You knowingly smiled. It was Number Five, one of Mista's Sex Pistols. "Mista and the others have dealt with the enemies! You can bring everyone out now."

"Roger, will do." You responded before turning to the guests. "We're busting out of here, everyone! Make sure not to leave anything behind. Once we leave this world, anything that remains will vanish."

You counted to ten and the pin on your hair glowed brightly. Everybody shimmered out of the notepad and returned to their original places. Your heels clacked against the balcony floor, along with the Eastern lady and Prosciutto. She leaned against the railing, cross eyed and with wobbly knees. The guests held their heads in their hands, groaning.

The after effects of entering and leaving the paper realm gave most people vertigo, but you overcame this ages ago. You expected the same wooziness from the champagne blonde hitman but to your surprise, he was perfectly fine. You held his gaze, confused. Was he a stand user all along?

An irk mark formed as your eye twitched. Then why the hell did you not help out earlier? Maybe this was his way of payback for my snarkiness earlier... Ugh. You clenched your teeth.

With a sharp exhale, you turned away and searched for your notepad. It had morphed back into a regular block of paper after everyone left it, and dusted it clean. Your hairpin had returned to its previous appearance as well. You slipped the notepad into your purse when a dishevelled Giorno burst into the balcony.

Running past you, he enveloped the lady in a hug and squeezed her. She disappeared in his larger frame, her lithe arms wrapped around his back halfway. The sight would've been funny if it weren't for the jealousy brewing in your chest.

After he got his fill of her, he turned to you. Gratitude shone in his viridescent gaze. "Thank you for protecting my fiancé, (y/n). You did well."

Your mouth slipped open as you gaped in shock. With your eyes shifting from him to her, to her to him, your mouth hung open silently. An ugly bitterness bubbled within your stomach, threatening to spill out of your oesophagus. Its claws raked into your heart, a stinging pain growing within.

Smile. Do it for him, a voice chastised you, and you snapped your mouth shut and smiled. You smiled brightly, so radiantly as if your heart didn't shatter into millions of fragments like glass.

"Your fiancé? Oh man, that's crazy!" You exclaimed as your insides grew numb. With a hand behind your head, you guffawed. "So she's the one you wanted me to meet all along! I guess I should've known, silly me."

"I hope it's not too sudden. I meant to tell you but the right moment never arose," Giorno looked apologetic. Was that a faint blush on his cheeks?

The blonde and his partner exchanged looks: they were beaming. You mustered your courage, but your heart was cold and your fingers dug into your palms. With all of the goodness in your heart, you bowed once more and spoke softly.

"Congratulations, Don Giovanna and... La Madrina."

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eyeslikewatercoolers · 11 months

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Partners for the Night (Camine-Magical Girl AU)

Here's the first part of the Magical Girl AU, since a lot of y'all were interested in it. I would love any feedback for this AU!!

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Camden had a great career as a magical girl, but despite the past year, she was not the one to give all of it up yet.

She's hit a road bump after her long-term partner was taken out by the most powerful witch in the city, and hasn't gotten any luck in getting a replacement. Although she's tried to work with seemingly endless magical girls in the region, nobody has been working at her level.

But she is not giving up yet, she still has her job to do for tonight.

Camden looked in the full-length mirror in the locker room of her team's headquarters. She was securing her ribbons on her bullet-proof leotard, already transformed into her magical girl form. She heard the door open behind her, and turned around to see one of the support team members, Deja, step inside and walk over to where Camden was standing. Camden saw that Deja was holding two pairs of trackers and earpieces in her hands.

"Why did you bring two sets? I only need one." She asked Deja, while reaching out to grab one of the sets.

"Well, good evening to you too, Cam." Deja said in a dry tone. She passed over a tracker and earpiece before continuing "You aren't going alone tonight, you know we can't allow that." Camden busied herself with attaching the tracker on the other side of her magic brooch (which allowed her to transform) and inserting her earpiece.

"I've been doing this for almost a decade. I'm sure I'll be fine by myself for tonight." She crossed her arms as she pointed out. "Also, how did you find another girl for me so fast? The girl you gave me last week ran off as soon as Denali found us!" Camden lost track of all the girls she got paired with over the few months since her old partner got taken out by the infamous ice witch.

"Don't worry, we found just the right girl for you." They heard the door open again and looked over to see Kerri walk into the locker room, appearing to be talking to someone in the hallway just before.

Kerri led a magical girl with bright orange hair by the hand over to Camden's locker. "Right this way, and you are going to do great tonight!" Kerri smiled at the girl, as the girl looked around the room and at Camden. Both of the support staff members glanced at each other, before moving together to the door, before Kerri called out a "Good luck!" and snuck out the room.

Camden looked the girl up and down at her outfit and the weapon she was holding 'Great, another floral magical girl. They're practically trying to mock me now.' She thought bitterly.

The girl put out a hand and was about to introduce herself, but Camden quickly interrupted her. "Listen, we probably won't last long as partners, so I'll make this quick. Follow my lead, don't cause a scene, and when Kerri or Deja tell you to do something, you do it. Got it?" She reached over to attach the girl's tracker and handed over the spare earpiece.

She turned to the doorway, and added "The full moon is out, so we need to get out there now." She walked into the long hallway and heard the girl's heels on the lament floor behind her until they got outside, to the roof of the building.

"Wait, I never got your name. Kerri just told me that you needed help tonight." The girl's head tilted, and Camden saw her green eyes glimmer slightly in the moonlight.

"Fine, if you think that's important. It's Camden. And yours?"

"Jasmine."

A few hours into their shift was relatively quiet, compared to what Camden was typically used to. They were able to take care of a couple demons that were lurking outside a local office building, but hadn't spotted much else. They hadn't seen any dark spirits and they were told nothing was appearing on the radar so far. Camden and Jasmine were sitting on the roof of a tall building, legs dangling over the edge.

"How long have you been a magical girl?" Jasmine was the first to break the silence.

"I've been working for about a ten years now. I could do this by myself by this point, you know." Camden responded, although Deja's laughter in her earpiece told her differently. She ignored it and asked "What about yourself?"

Jasmine's fingers ran over one of the long petals on her weapon, a giant flower that spun. "I finished training a couple months ago. It took me a little longer than the others in my class. They said I was 'too impulsive' and 'not good at communicating' to give me a permeant partner." she explained as she looked over to Camden.

Hearing this information, Camden refused to believe that Jasmine was the 'right girl' as her partner for much longer than that night. She graduated two months before and the instructors couldn't trust her with her own partner? Jasmine spoke up again, "Did you get a permanent partner when you finished your training?

Before Camden had to explain her most painful memory, Kerri's voice from the earpiece stopped her. "There's something coming up on the radar. It's about two blocks south of you guys. We aren't sure what it is, it looks like it might be a witch." the two looked at each other before Camden jumped up and held out her ribbons.

"We're on it." She saw Jasmine stood up next to her and held out her giant spinning flower over the building's edge. They nodded at each other as Jasmine stepped onto the flower, and Camden attached one ribbon to a nearby lamppost. They quickly left the rooftop, heading to the direction the threat was coming from.

They both arrived to a dark alley, as Camden retracted her ribbons and Jasmine picked up her spinning flower. They gave each other a knowing look, before carefully examining the alley and scanning their surroundings. They slowly walked down the alley, when they had noticed a row of scattered flowers on the ground. Camden picked one up and examined it. It looked like a hibiscus flower, before the flower turn to a dark dust in her hand.

They walked closer, and noticed the more of the flowers were swirling in the dark dust, surrounding a dark figure at a dead end. The figure had a long dark ponytail and sharp green eyes that glowed through the dark dust. Jasmine whispered to her "Any idea who that is?" Camden shook her head.

They heard Deja through their earpieces, her voice sounding nervous. "Um, guys? I think it might be a good idea for you both to get out of there."

Jasmine spoke up "Why? Shouldn't we be fighting her?"

The witch slowly walked up to them, and gave an eerie smile, before speaking in a slight distorted voice, "Aloha, my darlings. I see you have come to visit me tonight."

Kerri's voice broke through next, "You can't fight her, because that's my mom."

Camden knew part of the story of Kerri and her mom, when Kerri joined their team a few years ago. Kerri was the only team member that was a full mortal but went through support team training in her late teens. She didn't have much choice, since she was forced to watch her mother, Sasha, get corrupted by an evil spirit and turn into a witch. Sasha was her only family, and then she was left all alone. Kerri once said that she avoided her mother at all costs, both in and out of her work. She knew by herself was powerless against Sasha, and watching her mother hurt her team members would be unbearable for Kerri.

Plus, there was only way to end a witch's corruption, was that they would have to kill her.

Camden grabbed Jasmine by the wrist, and exclaimed "That's Sasha, we need to run, now!" They both ran down the alley, the flowers and dark dust catching up behind them. Camden ducked them both behind a dumpster, as Jasmine was leaning over towards her other side. Camden wasn't sure at first what her partner was doing by not ducking down, until Jasmine held up her flower weapon and shielded them both from razor-sharp flower petals shooting from Sasha's hands.

"I've got us covered, get a head start on getting out of here. Do you think I could use one of your ribbons to get out?" Jasmine turned to Camden as she directed her plan. Camden felt taken a back since she was used to being the dominant of her partners, but nodded as Jasmine continued. "Perfect, let one hang down when you get to the roof, and I'll grab it and we can escape by the rooftops. Now go!"

Camden knew there wasn't much time for a Plan B, so she aimed her ribbons to a lamppost, and shot herself upwards. She felt a couple of the petals barely break her skin on her legs, as she jumped from the lamppost to the rooftop. As she threw down a ribbon for the other girl, she noticed Jasmine squinting through the small hole at the center of her spinning flower. She looked like she was staring at something on Sasha, but she was to far up to be sure. Jasmine grabbed the ribbon, and stood on her flower as it started to spin, propelling herself up to the rooftop.

Both girls caught thier breath as they were in a safe spot, away from Sasha. The moon was lowering to the horizon, and both knew that their shift was coming to a close. "Let's go back to headquarters, before the sun is up." Camden said as she started walking.

The girls entered through the doorway of the headquarters as the sun started peering over the horizon. They walked down the hallway, as Jasmine looked over to the other girl, and asked "Hey, Camden? Can I ask you something?"

Camden nodded, and answered "Sure, what do you need?"

"Do all witches always have a white spot on them? When I was waiting for you, I saw Sasha for a second, and she had a white glow on her. But I only saw it for a few seconds. And I don't remember learning about anything like that in training. So is that like a normal thing on witches?" Jasmine rambled on, as Camden tried her best keeping up with listening.

"What white glow are you-" She was interrupted as Kerri poked her head into the hallway and walked up to the pair.

"You guys are back! Really great work tonight, honestly. Jasmine, do you want to follow me so Deja and I can talk to you?" Jasmine agreed, as she looked at Camden, before getting pulled into a separate room.

Camden continued down the hallway, as she still wasn't sure what Jasmine was talking about before. She walked into the locker room, pressed her brooch to begin to transform back into her human self. She felt her hair fall out of the bun, and return back to long, ginger ringlets. Her height returned to her shorter stature, and her eyes lost their glimmery effect. She wore the clothes she was wearing earlier that day, as she grabbed her backpack from her locker, and pinned her brooch next to her iron on patch of the Union Jack. Camden normally wouldn't be in her human form around her partner, but she would only know Jasmine for that night, so who cares?

The door opened and a younger woman with honey blonde hair and deep green eyes walked in. She held an orange flower brooch in her hand, as she walked past Camden to a nearby locker. By the look of the brooch, she assumed that this was Jasmine who was also in her human form. Before either of them said anything, Deja and Kerri walked into the locker room. "You guys did really good tonight. Jasmine was really able to keep with you out there." Deja said as she passed a lock to Jasmine, who let out a quick thank you.

Camden nodded in agreement as she closed her locker door, and said "Yeah, she did. Well, it was nice meeting you, and thanks for coming out to be my partner for tonight. Maybe I'll see you again soon?" Camden started to wave goodbye, before Kerri put a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait, we have news for you both, before you leave." Kerri announced to both of them, beaming. Camden looked across to Jasmine, who was slipping on a pair of glasses. She was holding her open backpack in front of her, resting on the bench. Her brooch was pinned in the front, sitting next to a heart-shaped trans flag button. Both her and Jasmine looked straight at Kerri, waiting for her to go on.

Kerri smiled and clapped her hands together and said "You two are now an official magical girl duo!"

Camden knew this was inevitable getting a permeant partner before retirement. But she was not expecting to get partnered with a girl that barely passed her magical girl training two months ago.

#magical girl au #rpdr s14 #rpdr fanfiction #camine #jasmine kennedie #lady camden #my fics #my writing

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styleofdiamandis · 3 months

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PHOTOSHOOT: KISS MAGAZINE

Marina covered the January 2013 issue of Ireland's Kiss Magazine! The colorful editorial was shot by Naomi Gaffey and styled by her sister Naomi Gaffey who made sure to include a handful of Irish and other British labels!

Hair and makeup by Billy Orf, respectively.

For the cover photo, she looked stellar in the Fall/Winter 2012 star print stretch silk cocktail dress with long bat sleeves (€410.00 - sold out) by up-and-coming Irish designer NATALIEBCOLEMAN.

Look n. 2 shows Marina wearing a Reiss ivory knit sweater featuring ribbed sleeves and a round neck (€155.00 - sold out). I couldn’t find her exact one but I've pictured a similar one for you above!

Another emerging Irish designer featured in the editorial is Emma Manley and her brand Manley Studio. This rose-gold metallic leather skirt with micro-scalloped hem (€385.00 - sold out) was created for her Spring/Summer 2013 collection!

Chunky necklaces were the rave back in 2012 (along with peplums and neon colors). But I wouldn't mind wearing this ZARA chain necklace with diamanté leopard head (€19.95 - sold out) even today!

Marina's very girly look was completed with these whimsy Office tiger pointed-toe pumps with multicolored gems at the front (€89.00 - sold out).

Both Marina's Stolen Moment pink velvet skater dress (€85.00 - sold out) and studded leather biker jacket (€293.00 - sold out) are from the MINKPINK x Urban Outfitters collection.

In some other photos, she added the Topshop "Geek" print blue tee (€27.00 - sold out)...

...and her Fam Irvoll round blue acetate sunglasses, which she absolutely loved back then!

She also wears Accessorize "I 🩷 U" comic bubble necklace (€9.00 - sold out) and black suede platform pumps by Office (€80.00 - sold out).

Then, Marina brought the party in this ASOS cross-back party dress in multi sequin featuring a sleeveless cut and round neck ($55.95 - sold out).

Marina's jewelry here included this River Island "Pow!" comic enamel necklace, and a set of rings from New Look.

My favorite look from this editorial comprises an American Apparel black tank crop top (€24.00 - sold out), and a Topshop black pencil skirt (€61.00 - sold out), entirely covered in rhinestones!

"This is how to be a heartbreaker" 💔

Marina dons the Joanne Hynes Spring/Summer 2013 "My Black Heart" leather and crystal statement necklace. (€220.00 - sold out).

I'm head over heels for these Office black patent platform pumps with plexi heel (€91.00 - sold out).

This look is completely vintage! Her colorful houndstooth mohair sweater is vintage 1980s Rafaella (embellished with an Accessorize M letter brooch) while her black leather skirt is a vintage find from Folkster.

#November 2012 #NATALIEBCOLEMAN #Reiss #Manley Studio #ZARA #Office #MINKPINK #Urban Outfitters #Accessorize #Topshop #Fam Irvoll #ASOS #River Island #American Apparel #Joanne Hynes #Rafaella #Folkster #New Look

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ggomos-maribat · 2 years

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D-DAY Chapter 4 | 85 Days Before

Felix placed two glasses on the center table and carefully poured in their refreshments. His silver wristwatch glinted in the yellowish lights of the penthouse, a hint of shine within his monotone fashion.

"You could've told me you're back in Paris," he said to his visitor.

Marinette graciously accepted her wine glass, crossing one leg over the other. "I didn't tell anyone. Not even Adrien."

"And you caught a flight? Why not use a Miraculous?" Felix swirled his drink, relocating the documents he was working on to the couch. He had been in the middle of multitasking when she came knocking on the door.

"My parents wanted to see me. So I can show them that I'm still in one piece after living in Gotham."

"You asked for a vacation . . ."

"From the Waynes, yeah." A small smile played on her red lips. "They're not that bad."

Felix arched an eyebrow. "I never said they were."

"You were skeptical. That's what I remember."

Marinette locked her gaze on a blueprint at his side. It depicted a circular building, three levels and one middle space. Each of the floors had the exact same set of doors. Nostalgia. That's what it invoked.

She brushed stray hairs from her forehead. "We should add a tree," she suggested.

"A tree?"

A tree. A symbolic tree with the tips of its branches tickling the floors above. It would creep towards the light, though it would never reach the sunlight. "It doesn't have to be a real tree. We can get a sculpture and hang up ornaments or tributes."

"How spontaneous." Felix sighed. Nonetheless, he still took the paper to write down a reminder on its corner.

"Where's Adrien by the way?"

"Asleep. He worked late last night. You know how he is."

Marinette remembered the boy poring over files and books inside the room in the Agreste Mansion that had been repurposed into an office. She could still see his mature expression, worn out by so many battles and sleepless nights.

"It's a good thing you're here," she told Felix.

"Because you're not around to coddle him?"

She shook her head. "Because if you're not taking care of him, you'll forget to take care of yourself too."

Felix fell silent, perhaps realizing that it was true.

"I came here first for a reason." She studied her wine glass, savoring the taste of the drink. "Not to talk to Adrien, but to talk to you."

She plucked a familiar brooch from her pocket and slid it towards him across the table. Four sharp butterfly wings pointed outwards from a blood red gem. It was the Miraculous that had damned all of Paris, the catalyst of its many destructions. "I want you to have this."

"You trust me . . . you trust me with the Butterfly Miraculous?"

In their first interactions, she had barely given trust to Felix, on guard with his seemingly malicious intentions. But he had proven to be an important crutch to his cousin's recovery as they worked in tandem to support him in the past few years. Felix had even moved to Paris just to live with Adrien.

"This is more about Nooroo." Marinette refused to tear her eyes away from the brooch. "We talked, and he said he wanted to reform the image of his Miraculous. He wants to help find Duusu and bring the Peacock back into the Guardian's care."

"So many crimes have been committed with the Butterfly," she relayed as Felix hesitantly picked up the brooch. "But it has a potential for good. Nooroo wants to make some kind of atonement even if I told him it wasn't his fault at all."

"I'm guessing he was persistent in that decision, yes?"

"He was. He even suggested you as a holder. I also think it would suit you." She leaned forward. "Will you be ready to take on that burden?"

"How are you sure I won't run off with this and use it for myself?"

She scoffed. "What reason do you have?"

If Felix were that greedy, he would've stolen their Miraculouses a long time ago. He already had means and opportunities to do it.

A smile twitched on his lips. "You're right. So how exactly do you use this for 'good' considering that its nature is to take advantage of people's emotions?"

"You can give powers as long as the ones involved are consenting. Or just strengthen what powers they already have."

"The Butterfly can do that?"

"Yes, if you have a firm grasp on a person's emotions. You have to make sure that their goal aligns with yours." Marinette put a finger to her lip. "In battle, I'd like you to stand back as support. We know that transformed holders can be akumatized, so I was thinking of helping us extend our timers or duplicate our weapons. I'll give you a copy of the Grimoire and you can always ask Nooroo yourself."

"Speaking of the kwami," Felix muttered. He took the step and pinned the brooch onto his chest, summoning the miniature god inhabiting it.

"Master Felix!" Nooroo cheered upon seeing him. He flew around and bowed at Marinette. "I thank you for giving me this chance, Guardian."

"You can call me Felix," said the new holder. "I take it you will be guiding me through my powers."

"Yes, of course! It's an honor to be under your care."

Marinette's heart warmed at Nooroo's enthusiasm. She'd expected him to focus on recovery after Hawkmoth's defeat, but he had been nothing but restless.

Felix scrolled through his laptop as Nooroo settled down on his shoulder. "I suppose I'll have to squeeze training sessions into my schedule."

---

Adrien gently took her wrist and turned her arm around to reveal the scar running down from the inside of her elbow. It was still there, marring her skin, reminding them about one incident among many.

"Why, what's wrong?" Marinette asked.

Adrien yawned. "When I get nightmares . . . I find out they're not real when I don't see this scar."

"You think this is a nightmare?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I didn't know you were going to be here since you never bothered to tell me you were coming back home."

"If it makes you feel better, I told no one except my parents." She squeezed his hand. "You still get nightmares?"

"Mmm, sometimes. I'm getting better though. Therapy helps."

At first, she'd been reluctant to leave Adrien alone, but she wanted to trust him to take care of himself. And Felix was there, along with the others. She was relieved that he was feeling better, even stepping up to do all sorts of work in her absence.

"How's Gotham?"

"It's . . ." She thought for a moment. "It's Gotham. I go out twice a week for the cleansing. There's a lot in there."

"So it's true that it's the most corrupted?"

"It makes sense if it is." Marinette frowned. "That city's cursed."

The Miraculouses have spilled remnants of power in certain places. It was not uncommon, but it seemed that Plagg's destruction energy had coagulated in Gotham, accompanied by the darker energies of the other jewels: the fox's mischievous illusions, the butterfly's control, the peacock's volatility.

Of course, she had no obligation to cast cures on the city, but it would be dangerous for those energies to creep out and spread.

She heaved out a breath. "I have to do it regularly to counter the remnants and it's taking longer than I thought. When I do finish, I still have to check every now and then."

"You can ask us for help, remember?"

"I can't. You're already preparing for D-Day. I can't add more to your plate."

A loud bang rang out from outside Adrien's bedroom, followed by a shrill voice yelling out, "Dupain-Cheng!"

Adrien and Marinette moved to the living room, finding their seething friend with her hands on her hips. Zoe popped out from behind her sister, holding up a box of pizza.

"Explain yourself Miss 'not even a call or text to let my friends know I'm back in Paris'!" Chloe huffed.

"I didn't want to bother you?"

"Didn't want to bother my ass." Chloe pulled her for la bise. "We are going out for drinks tonight and you can't not go."

"Who can ever deny you, Chloe?" Marinette chuckled before giving Zoe a hug. A grumpy Felix took the pizza to the kitchenette and called for Adrien to help bring the plates out.

"You are so lucky I haven't told 'Gami or else she'd drop everything and run to you."

"Right, right." Marinette waved the thought off, looking to avoid Kagami's wrath. "How's training with Zoe?"

"It's going well," Zoe herself replied, tying back her hair. "We're working on modifying the shield to hold detachable blades. Like those I can slide out from the plates."

"Of course it's going well. I'm the one training her," Chloe said. She passed a plate to Marinette, who was leaning over the box to pick out her slice.

"Haven't you done weapon modifications too before, M'lady?" Adrien chimed in. "With Multimouse's rope and your yoyo."

"It does need some work for both the holder and kwami. The ones I did were easy. Same with Chloe's. For the shield, it might take more time."

Tweaking their weapons had been a new frontier when their timers evolved to last longer. The yoyo and jump rope could be converted into staffs and split into two at Marinette's command. Chloe's top had been turned into a rope dart as well, with the tip able to inject Venom.

"Wayzz thinks so too." Zoe took a nibble of her pizza. "We're giving it until the end of the month."

"That reminds me." Marinette glanced at Felix. "Do you have room for one more student, Chlo?"

"You finally gave him a Miraculous?" Adrien's eyes widened.

"Gave who a what?" Chloe looked up from her nails.

Felix cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention as he pointed to the brooch on his chest. Nooroo floated out of hiding to give a tiny wave.

"It was Nooroo's request," Marinette explained. "He wants the Butterfly to help in battle."

Chloe made a face. "No thanks, my hands are full. Give 'im to Couffaine."

"Oooh, Luka." Adrien elbowed his cousin teasingly. Felix glowered at him.

"You know what? Luka's a good choice," Marinette agreed, not fighting her own smirk. "You're both staying on the sidelines and working on defense."

Felix made a noncommittal sound, but Marinette took it as a sign of confirmation.

---

Marinette opened the door of the training room, finding Luka basking under the moonlight while doing warmups. He had mentioned wanting to expand his skillset outside of the lyre, so he took up hand-to-hand combat, occasionally training alongside Chloe and Zoe.

Luka paused. "Still awake?"

"Still buzzed from the drinks." Marinette closed the door behind her. "Want to spar?"

He beckoned her to the mat and she shed off her jacket. It was a chilly night, perfect for a short session of training. To placate her nerves. To stave off the anxiety. To distract.

"I can challenge the winner of your spar." Kagami entered the room with her sword hanging off her back.

"Hey, Gams." Marinette waved. "You don't usually train at night, do you?"

"I wanted to tire myself out first before going to bed." The girl lowered into a cross-legged position to watch.

Marinette smiled. "You and me both."

She and Luka circled each other on the mat. In the faint lighting, his eyes almost looked like thin slits, despite him not being in hero form. She raised her fists up to block his punches as she dodged in sharp, speedy movements.

Luka slid down in an attempt to swipe her feet but she leapt out of the way. "A little birdy told me—"

Marinette snorted. "—more like a nosey bee—"

"—that someone caught your eye in Gotham."

Marinette stumbled for a millisecond, almost falling prey into Luka's jab. She regained her balance and switched to offensive, aiming for open spots.

"I have heard of the news as well," Kagami said.

Marinette's expression turned stiff. "I don't think it's going to work out between us."

"Why?" asked Luka.

"I have responsibilities. He also has responsibilities." We have obligations bigger than ourselves.

Kagami rested her cheek on one fist. From Marinette's periphery, she could see her analyzing the details of their fight. Then, she spoke. "As far as I know about this, you are not yet in a relationship. And yet you are declaring it a failure already?"

Heat crawled up Marinette's neck. "Even if we try, there's still so many secrets between us. I like him a lot. I really do. But I can't get carried away." She gritted her teeth just as she managed to hit Luka's side. "It's a disaster, actually."

"What happened?" Luka raised an eyebrow.

"We kissed!" It was before she left for Paris. The feeling of his soft lips, the touch of skin against skin were still fresh in her mind. "I can't—I can't push him away because I care about him but I don't want him to get hurt either when he finds out the truth."

"Why not try being honest? Tell him when you come back to Gotham?"

Her eyes darkened. She sped up her punches. "It's not that easy. I'm not sure how he'll react but it won't end well. I don't want anything happening before D-Day." She knocked back Luka with a well-placed kick but he recovered with a flip.

Marinette gulped. "I don't . . . I don't even understand how we ended up like that . . . a relationship is the last thing I need right now."

The trauma from Paris lingered, and she still had a job to do. She was in no condition to dedicate herself to someone else, especially when she was dealing with aftermath upon aftermath. It's probably the same with Tim. He also has a double life.

Kagami stretched her legs. "Is this what they call 'the right person, but the wrong time'?"

Marinette laughed bitterly. "Maybe? The universe loves finding ways to fuck around with me."

She ducked as Luka swung his leg above her head. She tried to retaliate but he blocked her in time. But with another strike with her elbow, Luka fell to the mat completely. He grinned and raised his arms in defeat.

"What will you do now?" Luka questioned breathlessly.

Now? Now, I have to make sure I'm the only one hurting and not Tim. I can't do that to him. I can't leave him just yet while he's reconnecting with his family. I need to stay by his side first.

"Now? I honestly don't know."

chapter list | prev | next

AO3 Link

Taglist: @its-maemain @tinybrie @worlds-tiniest-puff-pastry @the-coffee-fandom

#d-day #timari #timinette #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fanfic #maribat fic #ggomoz #maribat tim drake #maribat marinette dupain cheng #oh hell yeah #the tension lol

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theofficersacademy · 1 year

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2023 is here at last! The mod team wishes you health and fortune in the year to come.

Housekeeping

Current Month in TOA: Verdant Rain Moon

Our first lore event of 2023 begins this month! Keras Kai Elephas will begin at noon EST on January 2nd and run until the beginning of February. Please wait until the event begins for the team announcements and more information.

We will open up inventory selection when the event begins on January 2nd. As a reminder, event inventories can be changed until January 5th. That said, we ask that you be patient with the mod team as we sort through them and the monthly claims. We guarantee that everything will be set before the event begins in full, even if it takes us a couple of days to get to your requests.

Signups for the event will reopen on January 5th and close again on January 12th, so that will be your last chance to sign up if you haven’t already!

Thank you to everyone who filled out our feedback form last month and weighed in on our ideas about the 4th muse slot. Due to the responses we received, we have decided that we will not add a 4th muse slot. TOA will remain with an allocation of 3 muses per mun.

The Discord banner contest will accept entries until January 17th! Please refer to the server announcement in the #officialannouncements channel for more information.

A new installation to the Fire Emblem series is just around the corner! Fire Emblem Engage is slated to release on January 20th, and with a whole new cast of characters, the Officers Academy will be having its largest cast expansion since its creation. While we will eventually accept characters from the land of Elyos, these characters will not be available until midnight on March 1st, 2022. TOA operates on a first-come, first-served basis, so we will be processing reservations and applications in the order that they arrive in our inbox.

Please don’t forget to leave feedback on our [feedback poll] for this month! If you have feedback during the course of the event, feel free to leave it whenever it crosses your mind, but we will have specific questions about it on February’s form.

Other

January Mun Birthdays: Beth (3rd), Key (6th), Darcy (9th), Maddie (12th), Neffi (17th)

January Muse Birthdays: Eir (1st), Ingrid (4th), Rhea (11th), Say’ri (11th), Marth (21st)

First-year mun anniversaries this month: Alina (21st)

Second-year mun anniversaries this month: Dewa (8th), Reddo (11th), Rua (15th)

First-year muse anniversaries this month: Chrom (1st)

Second-year muse anniversaries this month: Dimitri (8th), Maria (11th), F!Byleth (15th)

Muses who have been in the group for a solid year will also be granted an Academy Brooch to put in their inventory. It doesn’t do anything. It just lets others know your character has been around the block. These characters are also granted a new opportunity to change houses if they wish to do so.

- The House Leaders

#toa newsletter #january newsletter

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looksforleaders · 3 months

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: ⛱️NWOB Erijunor Green Satin Heels w/ Adjustable Ankle Strap Size 8.

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kurdistann · 11 months

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Chapter 7: New Family, Old Friends

Thursday was our last day in Erbil. Jack had hit the wall and could hardly get out of bed. I went to a boring meeting at the NGO Ministry where at least they served excellent chocolates with their tea. In fact, I was so busy unwrapping more chocolates getting on the bus that I dropped my phone into the storm water sewer FULL of who knows what. .. a dark sludgy liquid… ooh man. There is no telling what else was in that storm water sewer, maybe more sewer than storm, and I ran back into the building to the ladies room, where a man rushed in with me (probably not a Kurdish custom) to help me clean up the phone and salvage it. Phone was ok but in the future secure your phone before you tear into good chocolate.

By this time, I felt so close to the local women who had been with us all week. There’s Altor, Ruxosh, Jessica, Dilan, and Natasha. Remember their names because they will be coming to Nashville! I called them my Xoshki Kurdi, or Kurdish Sisters. I gave Altor & Ruxosh, the 2 dark haired gals from the governor’s office, a set of those hem stitched napkins with Tennessee flowers embroidered on them, and they gave me a necklace with “God be with you” written on it, a brooch, and a gold chain.

They took me one last time to the bazaar; I had asked them what’s a small, lightweight souvenir (not a rug) that I could take home. I also wanted to get some sumac, the the spice blend made only here in Erbil. Mahabad, my Nashville Sorani language tutor, had told me about it. My Xoshki Kurdi knew exactly where to take me, and I proceeded to get seven bags of sumac, handmade clove/seed necklaces, and boxes of delicious baklava from their favorite baklava stand.

Then we had a going away press conference, where their governor and our mayor wrapped up the successful week in front of 10 to 15 different news organizations. The governor gave us all an Erbil memento – rugs! And Kanaan gave all of us scarves. At some point, one of the media outlets caught me shaking hands with the governor, and expressing my thanks in Sorani Kurdish. Evidently, I am now a famous TikTok star: https://www.tiktok.com/@wishe.net/video/7237029270030208261?_t=8cbq0X4GTva&_r=1

We said our many goodbyes – this took 30 minutes, then got the VIP treatment at the airport. For those of you who don’t know, when you’re VIP there’s no waiting at the gate. You go to the dignitaries building, of course. You wait on leather sofas and with carved tables nearby, and lovely, so very lovely bathrooms. They checked our luggage and got our boarding passes for us, while we drank tea and reminisced with Azad and Tara.

So our excellent adventure had come to an end. I had most of my questions answered. You don’t have to wear a burka, and unless you’re at a cocktail party your shoulders probably should stay covered. You can get a drink, you can wear your cross and jewelry. Also, we didn’t die. In fact, I’d say we lived more than most. I came away with an appreciation for the Kurdish people and their values, for western toilets, for freedom, and with gratitude for this incredibly wide world in which we live. Thank you to the people of Erbil for enriching my life and making this ‘bite” at something new so very delicious!

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if-you-fan-a-fire · 4 years

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“Term of Two Years For Store Robber,” Ottawa Journal. February 8, 1930. Page 3. ---- Oscar Renaud Sentenced For Jewelry Theft on Bank Street. ---- Less than 48 hours after the jewelry store of Patrick D'Arey, 193 Bank street, had been broken into late Thursday night and articles valued at some $600 stolen, Oscar Renaud, 40, of no fixed abode appeared in Police Court on the charge this morning, pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to two years in Kingston Penitentiary by Magistrate Charles Hopewell. Police have recovered practically all of the stolen jewelry. (See also Page 15)

“Almost All Jewelry Taken From Store s Nów Recovered,” Ottawa Journal. February 8, 1930. Page 15. ---- Police Arrest Oscar Renaud, 40, Within 24 Hours Following D'Arcy Robbery. ---- The arrest of the alleged shopbreaker and the almost complete recovery of jewelry valued at $600 were accomplished by Ottawa detectives within 24 hours after the robbery of the jewelry store of Patrick D'Arey, 193 Bank street, which occurred early Thursday night.

Oscar Renaud, 40 years of age, and of no address was placed in custody by Detectives Aubrey MacDonald and J. P. Downey yesterday afternoon in a Hull hotel as the result of investigations carried on since the break-in was discovered shortly after 9 pm. Thursday. When he was arrested, police declare three brooches, two rings and other articles were found in his possession. These were later identified, they say, by Mr. D'Arcy.

Assists Police. After repeated questioning by police, Renaud agreed to assist the officers in the recovery of the balance of the loot and last night he accompanied Detectives Downey and Thomas Cullum to a Rochester street store where, police state, the greater part of the jewelry, consisting of 76 rings and other articles were found.

Mr. D'Arcy formed one of the party which went to the Rochester street address and he made positive identification of the merchandise. It tallied in every way with his description of the stolen articles which he gave to police shortly after the robbery.

The burglary was one of the most daring carried out in Ottawa in some time. From 1.30 o'clock to nine o'clock Thursday evening while hundreds passed the D'Arcy store the shopbreaker forced the rear door, effected an entrance, stripped the show windows of their contents of jewelry and made his departure without anyone being aware of what was happening.

Police say that during Thursday afternoon Renaud went to the D'Arcy store to make a purchase and it was during that time that he obtained a layout of the building and formulated a plan of robbery.

[AL: Renaud was actually 43, from Aylmer, Quebec, covered in scars with a large cross tattoo on his right forearm, and with a poor grasp of English. A habitual criminal, he had a long rap sheet going back to the very early 20th century, including two terms at Toronto’s Central Prison, two terms at St. Vincent de Paul Penitentiary, a term at Guelph Reformatory and a term at Burwash Industrial Farm, and a previous stint at Kingston Penitentiary as #E-971. His half brother Onesmine was also at KP in this period. Renaud worked in the stone shop as convict as #1597. He was released October 1931.]

#ottawa #no fixed abode #jewel theft #jewel thief #stolen jewelry #jewelry store #burglary #burglar #long criminal record #ex-convict #jailbird #sentenced to the penitentiary #kingston penitentiary #great depression in canada #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada

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francismckee9 · 2 years

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takozjewelry · 4 years

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#embroidered brooch #burgundy and gold #office cross brooch #crystal clothes pin #valentine's day gift #dark red cross pin #cross brooch women #jacket brooch pin #crystal pearl brooch

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clonecyare · 3 years

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I Can Handle Myself

Summary: You were perfectly capable of handling yourself when it came to matters of your safety. But that would never stop Fox from doing his part.

Pairing: Commander Fox x senator!reader

Tags: assination attempts, protective fox, senator!reader, republic gala, canon typical violence/shenanigans, banter, secret relationship, kissing, suggestive ending,

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: The 2nd instalment of my outfit series. This one is based on this outfit submitted by @murdertoothpick for Fox. Each fic in the series can be read as stand-alone fics.

1st instalment: Playing a Dangerous Game - Captain Rex x medic/!reader

|| Masterlist || Tag list ||

----

“I am going to say this one more time, Commander. I do not need a babysitter for this Gala, I am more than capable of handling myself.” You said matter-of-factly as you walked through the halls of the senate, datapad in hand, tapping perhaps a little passive-aggressively on the screen.

Commander Fox chuckled under his bucket, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“With all due respect, Senator, you were the target of an assassination attempt 4 days ago.”

“And I survived. Nobody would be stupid enough to try a second attempt at Republic Gala, not with the Senate present.”

Fox chuckled and fell in step with you, bumping shoulders with you as you walked. “Maybe so, but it’s the wishes of the Chancellor that you have a member of the Guard escort you, while the rest patrol the Gala.”

You stopped outside the entryway to your office and put one hand on your hip, datapad and a stack of flimsi files clutched under one arm and pointing accusingly at Fox with the other from behind the death grip you had on your caf. “You’re enjoying this.”

You nodded politely to Hound who had been standing guard at your office, and he saluted with a polite, “Ma’am.” He took his leave as Fox took his place, leaning against the doorway with his head tilted as you punched in the keycode. The doors slid open, and he followed you inside, removing his bucket with a gentle hiss and holding it under his arm against his hip.

You couldn’t help but stare a little, just briefly. He was sporting a few soft grey hairs at the sides of his neatly trimmed hair. It made him appear just a slight bit older and more sophisticated, the neat locks of loose hair framing his handsome face.

“Perhaps a little. I do get quite the kick of you not getting your own way.”

His smug comment brought your attention back to the present and you muttered something in response with narrowed eyes. Dropping the stack of files and the datapad on your desk, you hopped up to sit on the edge and crossed one knee over the other. The lightweight fabric of your skirt sported a high slit, exposing the skin of your legs and upper thigh.

You sighed, resigned to your fate and leaned back on one palm, swirling the steaming caf in your paper takeaway cup.

“Who will be my knight in shining red armour, then?”

You asked as you blew on the hot caf and took a sip.

Fox, whose eyes has been previously occupied following the slit of your skirt up to your thigh, snapped out of his daydream and plastered a handsome smirk on his face.

“Oh, that would be me. I’ll pick you up at 7 sharp, mesh’la.”

“Wha-” You did a rather ungracious spit take withyour coffee, as the Commander slid his helmet back on and moved through your office doors with one final look back at you.

“Oh, and don’t be late.”

----

Leaning into the mirror you carefully applied the deep crimson red lipstick, treating the task with the utmost delicacy, lest you waste your look entirely. You stepped back once you were through and took a moment to admire your handiwork.

Dressed head to toe in deep, rich red tones and soft fabrics, you felt you had outdone yourself this time. If you were to be on your Commander’s arm all evening, the least you could do was make an effort, right?

You smirked softly, tilting your head in the mirror. Yeah, this would show him.

You had decided to go for an elegant gown for this evening, floor-length and a deep wine red in colour. The upper portion was a bodice lined with velvet and fitted to your body, with sleek black linear detailing down the front. Around the upper edge and over the shape of your chest was lined with intricate gold detailing.

In the centre of your chest, just under the hollow of your throat, sat a delicate golden brooch, which held from each side 2 long strips of the same wine-red material from your dress, draped prettily back over your shoulders, accentuating your chest and neck.

You had chosen several simple gold jewellery items, and tied your hair up into an intricate bun, completing your look and signature red lip. You were just touching up the corners of your lipstick when there was a firm knock at your door.

You headed for the door, opening it with a smile.

“Good evening, Commander.”

You smiled, voice sweet like honey. Your Commander, to your delight, was stood frozen in the doorway looking at you. In one hand he held the cap of his dress greys and in the other, a bouquet of Queen’s Heart flowers.

“Fox?”

You smiled softly and reach a hand out to touch his forearm. The gentle touch broke him from his stare and he quickly cleared his throat, offering you the bouquet with a bow. “For you.”

You smiled and took them with a courtesy, “they’re beautiful, come in, let me find a spot for them.” You stepped aside to let him in, finding the perfect spot for the flowers on your table.

When you turned back, Fox was watching you again, though this time he was smiling handsomely. You smiled back, “well, how do I look?”

“Mesh’la. Truly mesh’la.” He smiled as he offered his arm. Your cheeks flamed a pretty pink, bringing a satisfied smirk to the Commander’s face as you slid your arm through his own.

You locked up the apartment and made your way strangely quiet Senate District. The air was crisp against your skin, cooling the warmth you felt where you were brushing arms with the soldier lightly.

“You know, you clean up pretty well outside of all that plastoid.”

You smiled playfully, looking up at him. He smiled back, chuckling and shaking his head lightly, hair bouncing lightly in the gentle breeze. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm. I would go so far as to say a 10/10.”

Fox groaned deeply in his chest, head hanging sightly. You swore it was to hide his smile.

“I hate you.”

You smiled fondly and pressed into his side, free hand resting on his arm that was holding yours.

“No, you don’t.”

----

Perhaps you may have been wrong about the Gala. Fox had his reputation for being a little… prickly, at the best of times. But, as the over the top affairs go, the Commander had proven himself quite the charmer.

He has stayed dutifully by your side most of the evening, So, having a bodyguard was, as it turned out, a blessing in disguise - though you would never admit as much to anyone else. Far fewer senatorial aides tried to approach you upon spotting the head of the Coruscant Guard on your arm. Even several of the more conservative senators passed you by upon receiving his death glare.

At one point, towards the end of the evening, you had even managed to convince the stoic Commander to join you on the ballroom floor to dance. Well, sway, would be more accurate. The two of you moved around the room in a gentle sway, you humming softly along to the tune while Fox rested his cheek atop your head.

You raised your glass of Algarine wine to your lips in an almost mini toast, “Well Commander, it seems we had noth-”

Your words died in your throat as the glass suddenly shattered in your hand. The blaster bolt that has cause it clipped your right cheek, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. A roar of commotion suddenly filled the room, with several masked individuals pushing through the crowd. Most of the shots were trained on you, but you now noticed a group of them firing off into the guests as a distraction.

“Get down. Now!”

Fox barked, crowding you to the floor. Thire and Thorn were already pushing through the crowds, firing at 2 of the intruders and calling in backup.

“Commander!”

Hound threw Fox’s blasters towards him and took off after one of the assailants, Stone calling for backup. The leader of the group was faster, though, taking another shot that you managed to dodge as Fox tackled him, throwing himself between you and the hitman, and knocking his blaster from his hands. The pair wrestled for the single DC-17 that had fallen between them, each landing several punches.

In the end, the hitman got the upper hand. Blood rushed to your ears, cancelling out the commotion behind you. As soon as he pulled the pistol on the Commander, you were behind him, panting heavily, pistol to the back of his head.

“Drop it. Now. I promise I’m faster.”

Fox looked at you with wide eyes, before the dropped to your exposed thigh and the small holster secured around your upper thigh, soft brown irises slowly darkening. Discreet, made for a small pistol like an ELG-3A.

The man dropped the blaster and Fox grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, binding his wrists and looking over his shoulder at you with a chuckle as he pushed the man towards one of the Corries that had arrived.

The room was emptying now, only a few shaken aides left milling around, and few vod who were cleaning up and securing the room. Fox lifted a hand to brush a few hairs back behind your ear, and you smiled.

“I told you I could handle myself.”

Fox laughed, holding your cheek as his calloused thumb swiped over your cheek, wiping away the trail of blood. “Yes, you most certainly did, cyar’ika.”

You turned your cheek into his palm and pressed a light kiss, looking up at him.

Fox took one precursory look around the ballroom and bent down, kissing you hard. It wasn’t soft or sweet like you knew they could be. It wasn’t careful and quick, like so many of your kisses had to be in order to remain a secret.

It was rushed, and desperate. You could practically feel the adrenalin rolling off him in waves. It was an oddly comforting feeling, one you had grown to know only too well. The kind Fox radiated after gruelling sessions guarding the Senate. Or after the occasional run-in with the cesspool of Coruscant’s underworld.

But it was most notable in these moments. When you had found a way to put yourself in the firing line again. When he couldn’t let his mask slip, when he couldn’t treat you as more than a senator under his protection. When all he could do was his job.

It was these moments afterwards that he needed you the most, that you needed him. It was in these moments, you knew exactly what you both needed.

You broke away, eyes never leaving his own as you took his arm.

“Take me home, Fox.”

----

Tag list:

@captainrexsfuturewife

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randomshyperson · 3 years

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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 18 - Part XVII - Agatha's Memories (Part One)

Gif is not mine, but Pinterest would let me give credits to the gif maker, so bless you wherever you are friend.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Chapter Warnings: mentions of violence, manipulation of will and consent.

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 18 - Part XVII - Agatha's Memories (Part One)

You thought you were going to fall asleep for a long time.

But as soon as your eyes closed, you felt the urge to open them again, as if being pulled out of your rest. The same feeling of being woken up in the middle of a dream.

“Wanda?” You called as soon as you saw around, and she was already next to you, her hand on your face, smiling gently as she helped you stand still. “Where are we?”

“Agatha’s memories I think.” She said and you followed her eyes, only now realizing it was Hogwarts where you two were. You recognize the corridor from the seventh floor, because of the positions of the towers outside. “We should go this way, follow the fire.”

You notice that only the candles in that direction were on, so you nod, Wanda kept her hand on yours all the way to the small door ajar at the end of the wall.

Inside, it was not empty. Wanda got in first, as if checking if anything would happen if she interrupted it, but it was just a memory, and it continued to happen as if you two were not there.

“Dad.” You whisper in shock as you step in. Your father was sitting in one of the chairs, a ravenclaw tie loosened in his neck, a curious look on his face. He was about your age.

But the grip on your hand tightens, and you then realize the other wizards inside as well.

Erik, covered in soot just like your dad, had his wand in hands, and Agatha in the front of the room.

The witch stood with her arms crossed, a disapproving look on her face. And you noticed that the boys were crestfallen, and understood that they had just been caught.

"Sorry for the delay, Agatha, I came as soon as I got your note." Said a male voice behind you, and you held your breath as you looked.

It was Mephisto, but he looked nothing like the scary man in the long cape and red eyes you are familiar with. He was just an adult with dark brown eyes, a stern look, and a tired face. He wore the clothes of his time, but on his necktie he had a hydra's brooch.

"No problem, Faustus." Agatha assured with a smile as the man walked in and closed the door. "Mr. Stark and Mr. Lehnsherr didn't mind waiting."

"What happened to your robes, boys?" Mephisto asked them curiously, and Erik, who was cleaning his wand on his cloak, replied first.

"A little accident, sir." He answered almost shyly. It was strange to see him like that, so young. "Howie and I are very sorry for the mess."

"Apologies are not enough, Mr. Lehnsherr." Agatha warns seriously. "If I hadn't interrupted the experiment, you guys would have blown up the whole floor."

"But we are sorry, Mrs. Harkness." Repeated your father, but he didn't seem to be really upset.

"When I gave you permission to continue with your research after what happened in the fourth year, I trusted that you would never again risk the safety of your colleagues, gentlemen." Agatha continued firmly. "I am beginning to rethink my decision."

"No!" Erik and Howard exclaimed together, which caused Agatha to raise her eyebrow. Your father cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Please, Headmistress. It was just this once, and it was for a good reason!" He declares looking suddenly excited. "We found something!"

Your father hurried to reach the back of the room, and only now did you notice the molten metal studded in the wall, as if something had exploded there a few minutes ago.

"The map, Miss Harkness, did not show this part of the castle." He told with a smile, touching the wall. "Erik and I wanted to find out why. But we couldn't break the wall with spells, so we tried using a machine."

Agatha sighed, massaging her temple as Mephisto smiled at the whole scene. "You two and your antics with metal." He commented casually, and you were almost startled by the whole thing. The greatest dark wizard of all time, smiling tenderly at two students.

"What did you find, boys?" He asked curiously, and your father hurried to pull the metal out of the wall, and with some effort, a large hole was exposed in the concrete.

"I don't know what's in there, but it's not an empty room." Howard says. "And every time we peek in it seems to turn into something else."

"What are you waiting for?" Mephisto asks excitedly. "Let's go in."

Whatever your father had built was destroyed by a powerful spell, and melted against the wall. So Agatha and Mephisto recited some incantations together against the wall, and the hole opened up into a door.

And you widened your eyes.

"Wanda, is that the...?"

"Room of Requirement" She concluded as shocked as you were, walking to keep up with the wizards who were hurrying into the place.

And unlike the living room you knew, or the dueling room Wanda was familiar with from the order, the room of requirement was completely different. It was dark, and crowded. Piles and piles of the most diverse objects scattered around, like a magical garbage dump. But it wasn't junk at all.

It was books, shiny objects, all sorts of things. You think you even saw a chest of gold before you turned your attention to the group in front of you, stunned by such a discovery.

" Impressive, boys." Agatha commented almost proudly, and then assumed a serious expression. "Go back to your dormitories now".

"But, Professor-" They started together but Agatha looked at them with repression, gesturing.

"We don't know the origin of the items in that place, gentlemen." She clarified. "The teachers will ascertain that there is nothing here that could injure them. If there is no danger, you, as well as the rest of the school, will be allowed to be here. But for now, back to your dorms, or you will receive a month's detention."

The boys were upset, and you swallowed dryly at the image of your father sulking like a kid. Or better yet, he really was. Just a kid.

Your gaze followed him as he walked out beside Erik, the two of them whispering softly, and you sighed, feeling your eyes fill with tears watching him go. Wanda wiped away the tear that ran down, looking at you tenderly.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asked but you just nodded, grateful for her touch. Your father is dead, and this is no time to try to cling to another witch's memories of him.

"Yes, let's keep going." You said kissing her palm on your cheek before intertwining your hands, turning your attention back to the memory.

Without the boys, you noticed that Mephisto's posture changed.

He looked nervous, or perhaps almost fascinated by everything around him, as if he didn't know what to touch first.

"Faustus, where do we start?" Agatha asked next, as impressed as he was, looking around at the piles.

Mephisto seemed almost surprised at her speech. "I thought you were going to call the rest of the faculty, Agatha."

The witch laughed lightly. "And risk them agreeing to censor this place? No way. You and I will take a peek first. Collect anything that has the appearance of something the ministry of magic could ban."

You jumped in fright when someone tapped your shoulder, instinctively covering Wanda, but it was only Agatha. The real one, with a friendly posture.

"That was my mistake, children." She says nostalgically, watching the memory as well. "I should have called the teachers."

"What did you find here, Agatha?" Wanda asked a moment later, when you stood back upright as you recovered from your fright.

"Everything."

The memory around you trembled, as if Agatha decided to change it to hurry things. Soon, you find yourself staring at the image of her and Mephisto sitting in front of a table, in what you reckon was his office.

“It’s strange, Agatha.” The man said. “All pages are blank, but I can sense the magic.”

“Tried any remove concealment spells?” Agatha asked as Mephisto agreed, looking frustrated as both of them gazed at the open book at the table.

Agatha leaned over to reach an inkwell, knocking over the paper. She smiled as the ink vanished.

“See, it’s absorbing it.” She says. “So you just gonna give something in return for him to provide your answers.”

Mephisto laughs lightly, commenting that Agatha always found a way to surprise him. You wanted to throw up.

He took his wand from his jacket, and held it out to his own hand, cutting it as he leaned toward the book.

As his blood dripped onto the pages, the paper filled with ink, and the sorcerers let out contented exclamations.

"The book of the damned." Mephisto read it carefully, and then smiled at Agatha. "Sounds promising."

"I'll bet you three galleons it's ritualistic magic." The witch retorted, making the other laugh.

"Five galleons that it's alchemy." He replied smiling before turning his attention back to the book.

Before you could comment on your indignation at seeing them bet on something so absurd, the memory changed again.

You and Wanda had watched the flashes of the two sorcerers studying in that room, reading the darkhold, and other books as well. Sometimes they would leave, probably to teach their classes, but would return to their reading. You saw the moon appear several times in the window, and counted at least fourteen nights before the memory stabilized in front of you again.

Agatha looked nervous, crossing her arms as she stared at Mephisto.

"I just think there's something strange going on, Faustus!" She spoke up, but only received a bored expression. "The dead unicorns in the forest, the blood moon! I'm worried about the students."

"You are just scared, Agatha!" He sneered cruelly. "We finally found something worthwhile in this castle! We can't stop now."

But Agatha frowned, "Hogwarts has always been worthwhile to me, Faustus. I made it clear to you when we started this, that I wasn't going to do anything that would put the school at risk."

"It's only a castle, Agatha!" He retorts impatiently. "Old stones piled up. Stop acting like it's the holiest place in the world. What we find here, what's in that book, in those chests, is more than any other sorcerer has ever found. It is something from the ancients, things that Merlin would doubt."

"Merlin is dead, Faustus." Agatha retorted, looking at her friend with a neutral expression. "And I don't intend to have the same fate. I want to live. Like Morgana did."

Mephisto rolled his eyes. "Death doesn't have to be the end, old friend."

Agatha frowned in confusion, and Mephisto moved to reach the darkhold on the highest shelf. "We both won the bet after all. But I found more. Here look, Agatha. It's necromancy."

The witch stared wide-eyed, taking a step back as soon as Mephisto held out the item to her.

"I don't study this kind of thing, Faustus." She said in shock, which made Mephisto laugh incredulously.

"Don't give me puritism, now, Agatha." He retorted still with the book open in his arm. "How many rituals have you performed? Necromancy is the exact same with a little more power."

Agatha shook her head. "Crossing the line of death condemns the witch to-"

"To eternal suffering?" He interrupted in mockery. "What is that, Agatha? Pagan Christianity? You're hanging out too much with those mudbloods."

The principal clenched her jaw. "Don't forget I'm a half-blood, Faustus."

But the wizard only rolled his eyes. "Muggles talk about hell, and heaven like they know any shit about magic. Fools. They and all witches who bow to myths like those. I do not need to fear any punishment if I never die."

"Everything that lives must die, Faustus." Agatha retorted seriously. "You can't change that, no matter how hard you try. And you are not the first to do so."

Mephisto rolled his eyes, and assumed a defensive posture. "I'll be the first to succeed then, Agatha."

"Fau-"

But they are interrupted by a knock on the door, and Mephisto quickly hides the book behind his body.

You are surprised to see Thor's father, and your former Astronomy teacher, Odin, enter. And he looked disturbed.

"Headmistress, professor, sorry for the intrusion." He speaks hurriedly. "We need help downstairs, it's the Lehnsherr girl."

Your frown, and the memory changed just as the teachers rushed to leave the room.

When the image stabilized again, you felt Wanda squeeze your hand to get your attention.

"Y/N, it's my Aunt Raven." She spoke over the girl lying on the ward bed in front of you two.

"What happened to her?" Agatha asks the group around you. You are startled when you notice your father standing right next to you.

"I don't know, professor." It is Erik who answers with desperation. "We were playing Quiddicht, and Ray dived in to get the snitch. But her eyes started glowing and she fell."

An orange-eyed black woman you didn't know approached, and you imagined she was the healer of that time. Agatha turned to her immediately.

“Katherine, do you know what’s wrong?” Agatha asked worried but the woman shook her head, moving quickly to put the basin of hot water on the headboard beside Raven's bed, and wet a towel she placed on the girl's forehead, making you understand that she must have had a fever.

"It's dark magic, principal, that I'm sure of." The nurse replied. "The girl has marks on her back, but the boys couldn't tell if she messed with something she shouldn't have."

You noticed the look Erik exchanged with Agatha, but neither he nor the principal said anything.

"What kind of enchantment is it?" Mephisto asked, but unlike Agatha's worried tone, he seemed almost in a hurry to get out of there right away.

"I don't know, professor-"

"What kind of healer are you, Fury?" he interjected angrily, shocking those present for a brief second, before Agatha pulled him by the forearm away, almost at the door in the infirmary.

"Don't you dare talk to my employees like that, Faustus." She warns between teeth, but the man looks impatient.

"She needs to find out what's wrong here, Agatha." He retorts without caring about her previous words. "If the girl goes to St.Mungus, it will raise questions. And I know you don't want the ministry going through your drawers."

Agatha squinted her eyes at him, being quiet for a moment.

"Miss Lehnsherr is part of your potions club, Faustus." She begins. " Do you have any idea if she has tried some potion she shouldn't have?"

The man clenches his jaw, but his pallor betrays him, and both you and Wanda and Agatha realize this.

"Don't be ridiculous." He says offended, but keeps his tone low so as not to be heard by the others. "I have nothing to do with it."

"I think that better be true, Faustus." It is Agatha's last warning before she turns back to Raven, and the memory changes again.

You almost lost your balance this time, as you appeared on a staircase, but Wanda held you by the waist, and you shyly turned to her.

Pushing away any thoughts inappropriate for the moment, you turned your attention to the boy a few feet away, who was climbing the steps, but stopped when Agatha called out to him.

"Yes, Professor?" Erik asked, sounding troubled.

"It's about your sister, Mr. Lehnsherr." Agatha says, and lowers her tone as she leans in. "I need to ask you something, and you need to be honest."

Erik nods frantically, a mixture of curiosity and concern in his gaze.

"Kat-Mrs. Fury." Agatha corrected herself before continuing. "She investigated the marks on Raven's back. They are claw marks, Erik. Werewolf claws."

Erik clenched his jaw, and looked down at the floor.

"Professor I-"

"Don't lie, Erik." She asks seriously. "I'll know if you do. What I need to find out is how there is a werewolf inside the castle."

"It wasn't a werewolf, Professor." He says and then takes a deep breath, looking up at the top of the school, as if checking to see if they really were alone. "It was a big wolf, but not a werewolf. It was an animagus."

Agatha frowns, and Erik continues. "Please, professor, apologize to me in advance, I shouldn't have agreed to this whole story." He starts nervously. "B-but Howey thought we wouldn't have any problems if we did everything right, but then Professor Faustus found out and told us our secret was safe and-"

"What are you talking about, Erik?"

Wanda's father swallowed dryly, but looked at Agatha. "Howey and I thought it was unfair for you to forbid us to continue studying wizard mechanics in the castle after we found the treasure room for you. So we decided to continue studying elsewhere."

Agatha clenched her jaw, but Erik kept talking.

"We tried the forbidden forest, but Howey pissed off the acromantulas." He counters with a guilty look. "Professor Faustus was in the forest, and he saved our asses. He said he would keep our secret if we kept his."

"What is Faustus' secret?" Agatha asked immediately, and Erik looked away to the ground.

"I don't judge, and I didn't understand why, but the professor was drinking unicorn blood." He counters. "I found him on top of the poor animal, it looked like a vampire. He told us he was sick."

Agatha sighs, closing her eyes for a moment.

“What else, Erik?”

“He said that you knew the castle too much, you knew every creature.” The boy continues. “Professor Faustus suggested we learn how to hide inside the forest. But we didn’t know any spells like this, so he taught us about animagi.”

Agatha bited her lip thoughtfully, waiting for Erik to continue.

“He helped us with everything, the spells, the potions.” He added. “And my sister joined us as well, and honestly, Ray is way better at this than us. When we finally did it, professor Faustus was impressed but he kind of kept us apart, and only seemed interested in talking to Ray about it, probably because she can turn into any animal she wants now.”

The professor widened her eyes to this. “Really?” She asks impressed, but quickly converts to a more impassive expression. “What about you and Mister Stark?”

“Just one.” He says and you realize that he doesn’t want to actually share what animal he and your dad can turn into so Agatha won’t know. And the headmistress doesn't ask further either.

She just takes a deep breath, and straightens her posture. “I decided to ban the experiments because the safety of your colleagues has been compromised, Erik. And clearly I was right.”

Erik seemed really embarrassed as he had thick tears in his eyes. “We didn’t mean any harm, professor.”

“Intentions don’t really matter now, do they, mister Lehnsherr?” She accuse with sarcasm, but she sighs, returning to a more friendly posture. “How did Raven get the marks?”

“We were playing quidditch in the florest, professor.” The boy tells with hesitation. “But Howey and I were trying different things, new enchantments to make the game more fun. A faster golden snitch and a bludger that can part into three when hitted correctly. Stuff we could sell once we leave Hogwarts.” He clarifies.

“As if Quidditch is not dangerous enough.” Wanda mutters to you, making you smile.

“But we lost the snitch in the woods.” Erik continues. “And of course we couldn't leave it there, it was our first prototype. So we turned into animals, but something got wrong. With me.”

“What Erik?”

“He lost his consciousness.” It was not Erik who answered but your dad, coming from the stair behind you. He looked upset, his eyes matched yours and you felt your heart race, even though you knew he was just seing Erik. “Good afternoon, professor.”

“Howey-”

“It’s okay, Erik.” Your dad says with a smile. “It is also your secret to share, and maybe we took this too far.”

“I expected you two to clarify this soon before I expelled you both.” Agatha cuts the conversation quickly, looking impatily. Your dad takes another step.

“It was the blood moon, professor.” He said. “It messed with our heads. I got nauseous, almost passed out when I transfigured myself. But Erik lost his mind entirely. Ray was better at this than us, but she also got a bit slow, I think. That’s how Erik got to her.”

“We fought, professor.” Erik clarified, almost disgusted with himself. “I attacked her like an animal.”

“And then?”

“We didn’t know what to do! It was a secret, so I ran straight to professor Faustus' office.” Erik says. “He came back to the forest, and when he saw Ray he said he would help. I don’t know how he did it, but she was fine for weeks. Until today, we’re playing and this happened.” He explains. “I was going to tell you everything back there. B-but professor Fastus whispered in my head to be quiet about the animagi.”

Agatha sighs, massaging her temples. “Great, fucking great.” She whispered to herself, then turned back to the boys. "That 's all?”

As they both nod, Agatha climbs the steps. "Go back to your dorms, I appreciate your honesty."

While the memory faded, you turned as you heard someone move next to you. It was Agatha, the real one.

“Please tell me you fired him after that.” You say to her but she just smirks, gesturing with her head for you and Wanda to look forward.

This time, it’s not Hogwarts. But a bar you have only been to once, the Hog’s Head Inn.

“Our interests are at odds, my friend." Agatha says in a warning tone to the wizard sitting across from her. "Faustus, don't make things harder for us, think of our friendship."

You notice that Mephisto now looks more like the wizard you know. His longer hair and scruffy beard give him a more grim-faced appearance, the dark marks under his eye and the bumps of his bones in his cheeks give him an anemic and sickly look. You deduce that it is the excess consumption of the darkhold.

He gives the teacher a humorless laugh, coughing lightly, and Agatha raises her eyebrow. "We were never friends, Harkness." He retorts. "We had an academic arrangement. And I'm just a professor in your fairy-tale castle."

"That's not true, Faustus." Agatha tries, but Mephisto just runs his hand across his face, throwing his hair back, and you notice the dark marks on his neck, his veins.

"He was dying." Wanda whispers beside you, noticing as well. "The book was killing him, Y/N."

"Exactly, Miss Maximoff." The real Agatha speaks next to you, the memory muffled as if you were underwater, the conversation no longer audible. "And so close to death, people begin to despair."

“I told you I was sorry about hiding the animagi issue, Agatha. Please do not bring up this subject again.” He says. Agatha reaches for his head over the table.

“Do not hurt my students again, Faustus.” She seriously tells him, and Mephisto looks even more tense. "Because if you do, we won't have any conversation at all."

Agatha looked ahead, and the memory changed again.

"I finally figured it out, Agatha!" You were startled when the image of Mephisto appeared so close, taking a step away.

It was a living room where you were now, and the witch had just opened the front door for the man, soaked from head to toe due to the storm outside.

You had never seen Agatha's house before, and were surprised to find that she had one, and did not live in the castle as you had assumed all these years. But these were not important questions, so you turned your attention to the memories going on around you.

"It's late, Faustus." Agatha complained, but made room for him to come in, using her wand to dry the water he brought on the floor and his clothes as well. "And it's summer. Can't this wait until we get back to Hogwarts?"

Mephisto shook his head in despair, and moved to the table in the center of the room. There, he deposited a necklace.

"It was there the whole time, Agatha." He recounted with fascination, laughing at such happiness. "I was reading, I felt feverish, but I knew I just needed some water. I tripped over the bookcase on the way, and that old hat fell off. And then the locket was at my feet." He narrates, taking the object between his fingers and placing it in the woman's field of vision. "It's his, Agatha. It belonged to Salazar Slytherin! Look at the serpent. I finally found it."

"That's..." Agatha began, touching the medallion with her fingers. "Impressive, I admit. But still, it's just a necklace, Faustus. You didn't have to come in this storm-"

"You don't understand!" He cuts in despair. "It's a worthy object, Agatha! Strong enough to guard my soul."

At that, Agatha's eyes widened in shock. " I beg your pardon?"

But Mephisto merely picked up the locket, smiling to himself, his eyes shining. "I learned how to avoid death, my friend. To conceal my soul into eternal parts, trapped in objects on this earth. I have been in search of the objects that might be strong enough to carry."

"Merlin...." Agatha whispered in horror, but Mephisto didn't even seem to be listening.

"The necklace will guard the first part." He continued. "I need to do it once to know exactly what price to pay. There are so few records about it. If the magic is not strong enough, I will repeat the spell as many times as ne-

The speech was interrupted by a loud sound. Agatha slapped him hard across the face, and the man blinked in shock for long seconds.

"You often forget who you are talking to, Faustus." Agatha says with a fury in her eyes that you have never seen before. And Mephisto clenches his jaw, but seems so in shock at the aggression that he says nothing. "You forget who I am, where I learned my magic from. I only realize now that you really don't have any respect for it."

The man assumes an almost apologetic expression, but Agatha speaks again before he can say anything.

"You think I don't know the art of necromancy?" She questions angrily. "That I have never seen a witch come back from the world of the dead? I dueled with the Inferi of Kang in the Independence of the Romanis Witches, while you were just an infant!" She squirms and Mephisto swallows dryly, looking almost ashamed. "Do you think I don't know the soul splitting spell? The atrocity that must be done? I know the price, you fool."

And then Mephisto's posture changes. He looks curious, and looks at Agatha as if he is begging.

"Tell me the price, old friend." He asks. "The book didn't tell me. I don't know how to complete the spell. Please, I need-"

The next slap seems harder than the first. But Mephisto just laughs, brushing his hair out of his face as Agatha looks at him angrily.

"I would never teach another sorcerer that magic." She declares. "Least of all to one I have once called friend."

Agatha takes a step to the side, signaling for Mephisto to leave, the door magically opens.

The wizard gives a humorless laugh, the medallion dangling from his fingers.

"You are just like everyone else, Agatha." He says as he looks at her again, but then shakes his head slightly. "Actually, I think it's even worse. Because the fools in the ministry are really stupid, but you know the magic spells. And you choose to keep them to yourself."

"If you follow through with that, I will make your words my own." Agatha says. "We won't be friends anymore, Faustus. Truly, you will be alone. And a necromancer is not welcome at Hogwarts."

"I have nothing to go on with if you won't help me." He sneers, taking a step to leave. In the rain, he turns to the witch again, with a sly smile. "But alone I always have been. That never stopped me before."

You watch him appear, and Agatha closes the door. Everything is muffled again, and you turn to the real witch who sat in one of the chairs, the sounds muted around you.

"What happened after that?" Wanda asks Agatha, who seems shaken by the memories, thoughtful. She doesn't look at the two of you, just moves her fingers.

And the sound of someone screaming makes your whole body shiver.

It is a child. She looks directly at you with a horrified look, and it takes a second for you to remember that she must be looking at something behind you.

Wanda turns around first, and the way she shakes your hand almost makes you give up looking as well.

There is the man on the ground, and you stumble away as you see the blood running near your feet, forgetting that it wasn't really going to touch you, that it was just a memory.

"This is T'Chaka, father of your herbology teacher." Agatha counters, sitting on a rock wall. You look around, but don't recognize the place.

"Where are we Agatha?" You ask, and then it occurs to you that you haven't seen the teacher anywhere.

"He used to be one of the most powerful wizards in Merlin's order." She continues, ignoring your question. "But he was gone in the snap of a finger."

You swallow dryly as you notice a man approach the body, wand in hand.

"Where are you at?" Wanda asks Agatha in confusion, and the teacher gives a sad smile.

"That memory is not mine, Miss Maximoff." She clarifies, finally standing up, and pointing in the opposite direction of the wizards, toward the village, but between the walls of the houses. "It's from the girl hiding among the bushes."

You and Wanda exchange shocked glances.

And the memory blurs around you. Agatha has her hand raised in the air. "I don't want you to put out what is in your stomachs with what he did here. Creating a horcrux is the greatest magical atrocity a wizard can commit." She says, and the memory begins to shift again. "Just know that he did it. Faustus made his first horcrux with the death of that man, almost twenty years ago in Godric's Hollow."

When everything stabilized around you again, you gasped as you recognized your garden.

“What the hell were you doing in my house Agatha?” You asked but the real one was no longer there. You were facing your front door with the memory one.

It was your grandfather who opened the door, and you felt your heart race a bit. You haven’t seen him since you’re six, maybe younger.

“Agatha!” He greeted excitedly, moving to hug the witch. “Finally, we were starting to worry you got lost, my friend!”

Your grandfather pulled her in, and you and Wanda followed the clue. The Stark mansion was all decorated with a Christmas theme, and there were at least twenty other people inside.

“I’m sorry for being late, I had a few things with the minister.” Agatha clarifies. “All those weird things going on in Scotland, he wanted a second opinion before involving the aurors. You know how mystery department employees are weird, Jöhann wanted to make sure it was the last option. Muggles get suspicious with the way they work."

The memory blurs a bit as your grandfather agrees, as if Agatha was speeding things up, and you and Wanda are able to watch the people move around, talking and partying for a minute before everything is estable again.

You both watch Agatha at the corner of the room, surrounded by three wizards you don’t know and your grandfather as well, talking so low that you suppose you’re only able to listen because Agatha was.

“They say it is a group of wizards, six of them, maybe seven.” You blink, only now realizing you do know this man. It’s Fury, but he’s different. Young, long hair. Both eyes. You think it is the cape that was covering him that made it difficult to see his face correctly. “I told the minister we should do things quietly, to avoid drawing attention, but now he’s involving the aurors, soon the rest of our community will hear about it.”

“He wanted my opinion on this, Fury.” Agatha said. “I agreed with his actions. We don’t know who is causing the murderings, and it could be a magical anomaly. The mystery departament will know what to do.”

But Fury shocked his head, leaning even more into the circle, as if about to tell a secret very important.

“It was no beast, or anomaly, my friends.” He whispers. “I had a field job with the red skulls. Despicable people if you ask me. But what matters is that they have privileges, free pass to the minister's files. They know it's a man who leads this group, there's no trace of the Imperius curse. They're there willingly, and if they're killing it's to prove something.”

“This is absurd, Fury.” It was your grandfather who said it, his tone was almost angry but the laugh on his face made Nick take a step back, as if being called a liar. “No one would dare to challenge the red skulls. I know we have our disagreements regarding our government, but what we all can agree that since the skull were formed, criminality has decreased to almost nothing. No one challenges Schmidt's aurors, either out of fear or respect. Let's not believe fairy tales about groups of evil villains killing for fun, this is not the middle ages."

But Nick Fury crossed his arms, looking at your grandfather seriously.

"It might be surprising to a man who stays locked up in his mansion to hear that crime has not decreased at all, Stark." He retorted, a tension growing in the group. "Life may have gotten better for the millionaire purebloods, but it has only gotten worse for the vast majority of wizard society, which in case you forget, is largely composed of half-bloods and muggle-born of limited money."

Your grandfather looked slightly embarrassed, but he didn't shy away, laughing ungraciously as he patted Fury on the shoulder.

"Come on, buddy, let's not spoil the party with such an unpleasant subject!" He says. "Here's what we'll do. Monday morning, I'll talk to some colleagues at the ministry. Maybe the Parkers know something. A private investigation, to avoid rumors like this. We can't let people think that both the minister and Merlin's order is losing influence, can we?"

Your grandfather, and the other witches you didn't know, left first, returning to the party, but Agatha stood next to Fury, and leaned toward him.

"Nick, ignore them." She asked in a low tone. " Is there something else you've found out?"

Fury sighed lightly. "Not yet, Agatha. But whatever is going on, it's important. I've never seen Schmidt so nervous. He can't track these wizards, and so he can't figure out what they're trying to do. And if that thing escalates, it could cause a panic."

Agatha stands thoughtfully for a moment, until she turns completely to Nick, her gaze wary. "Do you think it could be someone we know?"

Nick looks surprised, frowns a little. "Why Agatha, do you have any suspicions?"

"No, none." She says, and you know she is lying. But Nick doesn't seem to notice. "I just wanted to ask, because I think we should keep our eyes open now."

The man nodded, and you think he was going to say something else, but he turned his face to something behind you, and then you were looking.

The party became a complete awkward silence when a young man staggered in, completely drunk. It was your father, and he was not alone.

"That was so embarrassing." The real Agatha sneers beside you as you and Wanda watch your dads, stumble drunkenly to the center, your grandfather catching up with them with a murderous expression on his face.

"What is the meaning of this absurd, Howard?" He asked angrily, but keeping his tone low as if to avoid a bigger scene.

"Man of the year, London!" His father exclaimed ironically.

"Not so good father, but I think a great businessman should do it!"

Your father's speech caused some buzz to circulate around, but your grandfather just got his ears red with anger, and stepped forward.

"Leave immediately, take this filthy mudblood you call a friend with you." Says the man, and you feel your stomach turn. But your father steps forward, pushing your grandfather by the shoulders away, who is astonished.

"Don't call Erik that!" He shouts, and his speech turns into a groan of pain as your grandfather slaps him across the face, a look of disapproval as the whole room watches.

"Now, Howard." He warns. "And don't you ever dare raise your hand to your father again."

But Howard laughed humorlessly, raising his head again, his eyes full of tears.

"I'm leaving this place for good, dad." He warns, causing your grandfather to raise his eyebrow. "I'm going to live in New York."

"And with what money do you intend to do that, boy?" the man ironizes, "With mine that won't be."

"I'm going to work." Your father says and your grandfather's laugh makes you and everyone in the room shiver.

"You've never worked a day in your life, you intend to do what? Wash dishes? Have you forgotten that we have elves for that?"

"I'm going to live with the muggles." And that does cause a reaction. Your grandfather gives an incredulous laugh.

"Over my dead body you will."

But your father doesn't hesitate, and slips his arm around Erik's shoulders, who seemed suddenly sobered and embarrassed by the whole thing. "I'm going to New York with my best friend, and we're going to marry the first muggle girls we meet, and have as many more half-bloods as they want to give us. And you're going to die alone in this old mansion."

When your grandfather advanced to attack him, he took a step back, and apparated with his friend. The room went completely silent, and it took a couple of seconds for your grandfather to put a smile on his face and open his arms.

"Children." He commented loudly with irony. "You know how they are, folks! Howey loves a good firewhiskey, I'm sure he was just causing a Christmas prank. Come on, you can get on with it. The elves will serve you well!"

Everyone seemed too uncomfortable to disagree, and the room gradually returned to noises.

You felt embarrassed, because of your grandfather's attitude. But Wanda just stroked your hand with her thumb, whispering in your ear if you were all right, and you just nodded. The real Agatha turned to you.

"I think I'm rambling." She declares. "Your parents graduated from Hogwarts that year, and went to New York. And things here got worse. Let's see one last thing before we go back, you guys shouldn't stay in this spell that long, and we need to move."

While the memory was fading, you spoke.

“What happened to my grandfather while my dad was in New York?”

Agatha sighs thoughtfully. "Well, you know how sorcerers love a little gossip. The Daily Prophet ignored a potential war to talk about the prodigal son who ran away from home, front page story for a couple of weeks. And in the meantime muggle borns were disappearing all around the country, and even beyond."

You felt bad, wanting to apologize for your grandfather's actions, even though you were not at all to blame. Agatha gave a little smile.

"In a way, your grandfather's ruination delayed Faustus." She says. "Without the Starks' financial support, the minister became even more tense. He gave the red skulls a free pass to kill. And anyone who looked suspicious of plotting against the government was in the crosshairs."

"That doesn't sound like help, Agatha." You mutter but the witch isn't even paying attention anymore, the memory coming back into focus around you.

It was Hogwarts again, the courtyard. The students were all scattered among the pylons, looking curiously at the center.

Mephisto stood with his bags on his feet, a worn jacket, and his hair disheveled. Skinny, and very pale, he seemed to have difficulty standing.

"Is this your thanks for my work, old friend?" He sneered armagically, the crowd witnessing the scene with a mixture of fear and shock. "All I've done for this country and this school!"

"Putting my students in danger is not exactly exemplary service, Faustus." Agatha retorts standing in front of him.

It was the day of his resignation, you understand.

"Go away at once. There is no more place for you at Hogwarts."

But Mephisto became enraged, kicked his own bag, raised his wand, and Agatha did the same, but neither of them attacked. The students held their breath.

"Give it back and I will leave." He warns the woman.

"It is the property of Hogwarts castle, under my protection." Agatha retorts. "You are no longer part of the faculty, and you have no right to the study materials under surveillance of that school."

Mephisto clenched his jaw, his wand trembling in his hands. "It's mine! It's my book, give it back, damn you!"

"Leave now, Faustus."

"I cursed you, Agatha Harkness." Retorts the man with hatred. "You will pay for putting yourself between me and my destiny!"

The memory jolted as Mephisto put away his wand, and you felt like you were waking up.

"No, wait!" You turned indignantly. “How did you manage to fire him? How did it come to that? What happened to Professor Fury? "

But Agatha just shook her head, squinting slightly.

"We need to leave, you've been here too long." She says. "Let's continue at the next stop."

Everything turned blurry around you before you could protest.

//-//-//-//-//

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