#i also slipped up and mentioned i might be moving away in December and she wants to teach me about geneology so when i apply | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

magicalforcesau · 2 years ago

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Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Year 3: December (Part I)

Ao3 link

Dear Minister Valorum,

You probably already know me by now, whether it be by my reputation as the “Chosen One” or from all the interviews I’ve done for the TriWizard Tournament, but I’m Anakin Skywalker. I’m also a familiar name to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for my mother, Shmi Skywalker’s, kidnapping. It’s been a while since I’ve received any updates from them and all of my letters have mostly gone unanswered except for the occasional automatic reply. I didn’t even know wizards had such a thing until Obi-Wan pointed it out to me.

In any case, I figure it was time I went straight for the top. It’s December already, meaning we’re approaching a year since my mother went missing. I thought maybe you could get them back on track, refocus and all that. I know they’ve got a lot going on with Dooku blowing things up in the middle of the street. I heard he struck again in a wizarding village near Calvary just this morning. I didn’t hear it from the Daily Prophet strangely, but from friends with people in higher places. I guess when nobody dies, it doesn’t get reported like that.

I know the tournament is a chance for wizarding unity and that I’m supposed to be a big part of that, but if I’m honest, the whole reason I wanted to join was to get my mother’s story out there. Instead, it’s beginning to feel like it’s being drowned out by all the other noise. Since I’ve proven myself as an actual opponent, I think it’s time that my story gets heard. There’s a lot of momentum here for me at Hogwarts, but I’ve got time in between classes.

Let me know if you want to talk and more importantly, if you’ve got any information on where she may be.

I know she’s out there, Minister, she wouldn’t just leave me like that.

Sincerely,

Anakin Skywalker, TriWizard Champion/Chosen One

“I’m not sure the monikers of Champion or Chosen One are truly necessary at the end,” A sudden voice mused, “You’ve already mentioned them in the beginning when you introduced yourself.”

Anakin, having not even realized he wasn’t alone in the Owlery, jumped and very nearly lost the letter to the December wind. It would have been a damn travesty if he had, considering Anakin had spent a great deal of time that morning trying to print his very best handwriting. He felt if anyone was worthy of it, it was the Minister of Magic.

“Jeeze, Obi-Wan!” He complained, “Warn a guy before you startle him from on top of a tower.”

Some of the owls squawked in what could be translated in agreement or otherwise, and Obi-Wan winced as a few fluttered away at the sudden intrusion of voices interrupting their breakfast of mice and bugs.

“Apologies,” He nodded awkwardly, “I hadn’t meant to scare you.”

“I’m a Champion, I don’t get scared,” He reminded himself and his mentor. That’s how the papers were branding him, anyway, and while Anakin refused to let it go to his head like the previous year, he couldn’t deny that this image might help him down the line. He didn’t want to be seen as the little boy that went running and crying to Obi-Wan every time he needed help.

Obi-Wan seemed to mentally weigh the value in arguing this point and chose against it, which was just fine to Anakin. He had enough to do that day and it didn’t involve debating with his mentor next to a bunch of disgruntled birds.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Anakin asked, moving away from the subject. “Mailing out for a prescription of more maps and legal mumbo jumbo?”

Obi-Wan had been stuffed up to his nose in reading materials as of recent and every time Anakin asked what they had to do with the tournament, he was promptly and politely rejected. Seeing as many of them had to do with slipping out of binding agreements, Anakin could only wonder what his mentor had gotten himself into.

“Er- no,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, looking immensely disheartened for a moment. So much so that Anakin almost regretted asking in the first place, but before he could ask, the lapse in demeanor had passed and Obi-Wan’s intellectual “prefect” mode had returned, “For one thing, that’s subscription not prescription . And well… I have no such use for those sorts of documents anymore.”

“Well, good,” Anakin said, taking note of the sharp breath Obi-Wan took and held before releasing. He looked a lot more defeated than Anakin expected him to be, especially since Obi-Wan never seemed to care much about winning before. “Now, you’ll have more time to figure out what the blank paper for the next task means.”

“True enough,” He nodded and ran a hand through his perfectly quaffed hair, which was somehow impervious to the elements that were simultaneously sending strands of Anakin’s hair on end, “I’ve already drawn together some possible theories, but all are just symbolic nonsense at the moment.”

It was then that they lapsed into another silence, which only Anakin seemed to find awkward, seeing as Obi-Wan’s line of sight was set distantly over the horizon. He followed his gaze, which trailed down towards Hogsmeade village. Anakin had to admit, a warm butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks sounded divine right now. They’d be decorating the village in Christmas lights soon, which was always a spectacle to be seen. He didn’t look overly excited about it though.

“Do you have any interviews coming up?” Anakin asked, taking a guess that sitting through a line of questioning would make Obi-Wan so maudlin.

“Oh,” He snapped out of his reverie and shook his head, “No, honestly, I don’t think I’ll be doing much of those anymore, even if they wanted to.”

“Ah come on, you didn’t lose that badly,” Anakin patted him on the arm, “Who could have predicted that a great white shark would show up in the black lake? I mean, it’s no dragon , but still, that’s pretty scary.”

“Yes, indeed, it was…” He trailed off, seeming to go deep within himself again, “Rather unforeseen.”’

“I’ll say,” Anakin nodded, “You should ask your parents to hook you up with some of the parties they’ve set up for me! It makes interviews way more fun if there’s games, pumpkin juice, and sweets!”

“Something tells me that’s not what they’d have in store for me,” Obi-Wan muttered, but straightened, fixing Anakin with a fond look, “And besides, you’ve earned all the glory from your performance in the first task. I’d hardly like to steal your spotlight, especially since your intentions to utilize it are far purer than anything I’d conjure up.”

Anakin wasn’t so sure about that. Obi-Wan was, without a doubt, the straightest shooter Anakin had ever met. He wasn’t devious nor deceiving in the slightest and hardly did anything for his own personal gain. Even though Anakin was annoyed when he was babied by the older student, he knew that his intentions were always pure of heart.

Still, he wanted his mum back, and was doing everything he could to make that happen.

Before he could come up with a proper response to that, Obi-Wan cleared his throat and made to move around Anakin, waving just slightly a letter of his own with a cherry red seal at the clasp.

“I did write them, though, and I’d hate for it to be late.” He sighed rather drearily as he handed the letter over to the Kenobi family bird. It was nothing like Artoo, even if a purebred in its own right, as it never looked particularly pleased and wasn’t half as beautiful. Still, it accepted the envelope after pecking Obi-Wan just once on the hand, and flapped its wings twice before taking flight and soaring up and away.

They watched the bird go for a moment, Anakin never truly ever being able to get over the means of mail travel in their world. It was simultaneously vintage and new age at the same time for him.

Looking at Obi-Wan and the solemn expression on his face as he watched the bird disappear where the sky met the ground, Anakin figured now was not the best time to mention all of the lovely letters the Kenobis and their associates have written him. They explained that they were giving Obi-Wan the distance he needed, but Anakin realized then that there was something inexplicably lonely about his mentor.

And it hadn’t seemed quite so obvious until now. Maybe that was because Cody and Satine were never far behind him. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t seen Obi-Wan with them nearly as much as before.

“Are you coming to the party later? I’m sure the press wouldn’t mind talking to you too. Even if just about you being my mentor.” He urged.

Obi-Wan smiled faintly, “No, that’s quite alright. Anakin, let’s be fair, today you are their hero. You deserve your glorious day with the press and politicians.”

“If you say so,” Anakin shrugged, “I’m guessing Cody is going to be there.”

“And the other Champions most likely,” Obi-Wan conceded, “I’ll likely be branded as a poor sport for not showing, but really, I’ve got a lot of homework to catch up on.”

“Only you would trade a party for homework,” He snorted.

“Do you make a habit out of wasting people’s time?” A smooth yet snarky voice halted Caleb in his steps to yet another of Anakin’s victory conferences. Everyone was rallying around the kid with posters and banners now resembling Gryffindor’s colors rather than Ravenclaw’s and he, like any sane Gryffindor, was determined to be a part of that.

That being said, he most certainly dropped the confetti cannon that he’d just finished loading with red and gold strands of glittery plastic at the sight of Hera Syndulla standing strong with hands on her hips and a furrow to her brow.

“Huh?” He replied dumbly.

“Or have I somehow been unclear?” She considered, stepping closer to him, but not at all looking like she was actually seeking an answer to either of these questions.

All at once, his brain seemed to make a whirring sound inside his skull and he was having a difficult time processing anything other than how lovely her skin shone in the mid-afternoon sun that glinted through the window. Even while clearly miffed with him about… Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, her eyes were like beacons of emerald glittering with emotion.

He suspected he looked pretty pathetic there, standing with a bright tube of confetti at his feet and red and gold paint on his face. He was mentally thankful that he hadn’t been the one to wear the lion’s head this time. Whichever of the Fett twins were given the honor would do so with grace and humor.

After standing through her persistent gaze for a beat longer than necessary, he finally was able to force himself enough to the present.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you aren’t going to Skywalker’s party?” He teased lightly, because that was always an easier approach than to go straight to it.

Hera seemed to disagree, because her frown and subsequent look of disappointment deepened, “And I’m going to go out on a limb and say that wasn’t an invitation.”

Now it was Caleb’s turn to frown, “Well, you don’t need an invitation. Everyone is welcome, regardless of who won the first task.”

“And if that weren’t true?”

“Did someone say it wasn’t true?” He asked immediately, ready to make a serious point to anyone that tried to forbid Hera from attending. “Because it’s basically free food and drinks while Skywalker gives a statement in front of the press. I’ll talk to anyone that says otherwise-”

“-No,” She rolled her eyes, “But if it weren’t , would you have asked me?”

“I wouldn’t go to any event where everyone wasn’t invited,” He said firmly, but was disappointed to see that Hera was not satisfied by this answer. It was what he believed in, of course, and he’d think she would too.

“Yes, that’s great and all, but I’m not asking for nobility right now,” She said, growing more frustrated by the minute, “Look, I’m a very busy girl, as you well know.”

“Yeah, I mean, being a Champion seems like a lot,” He said with a nod, “Not to mention your various other commitments. Your family’s business, Quidditch, model ministry, being Head Girl, prefect duties, homework, being a flying instructor...”

“And do you think I'm foolish if I were to add something else to that list?” She asked.

Caleb felt his mouth go dry. There weren’t any other people around. Most had likely already made their way into the great hall to enjoy the snacks and excitement of increased media attention. It was surprising that Headmaster Yoda had allowed them to come, but rumor had it, the Ministry pushed for it and won in this case.

Most importantly, they were alone.

He thought about what Cody had been saying to him about how Hera seemed interested in him too. That much had been nearly impossible to take then and was still difficult to imagine now. However, the look she was giving him- all hope and brightness thinly veiled by skepticism and caution- were indicative of so much more than he could ever hope.

Surely, she wasn’t asking him out. Or leading up to it. She looked more like she wanted to punch him in the head.

“It depends what that something or someone is,” He said with a soft nervous chuckle, trying not to break the spell between them and willing the universe not to let him down this time. Unless he chose to go against the grain of his house and run in the complete opposite direction, a shift between them was happening. “Whether or not you think they deserve your time.”

“Ah so you aren’t completely dense,” She mock clapped, “You can use deductive reasoning.”

“Sometimes,” He offered, “It’s not exactly my strongest suit all of the time.”

“Well, I thought they were worth it.” She said with a limp shrug, “When we were talking every day and laughing over their dumb jokes. When they were really listening to me and not just spacing out every time I spoke.”

“Hey, not that dumb,” He said weakly. “And I wasn’t spacing out.”

“Oh yeah?” She challenged him.

“I’ve listened to every single thing you’ve said,” He responded with confidence, “I might have been a little reasonably distracted, but it registered… Even if there is a delay. It still resonated one way or another.”

“Is that so?”

“I mean, don’t ask me to list sentences verbatim, but I know your family runs a travel company, your dream is to fly around the entire world and help needy families. I know your favorite color is green, but your favorite to wear is orange. You like the summer for its food and freedom, but prefer winter clothes. Your biggest pet peeve is when people don’t take risks and you have a recurring dream that you’re falling upwards and you can’t tell if it’s a dream or a nightmare.” He released a deep breath, noting that her expression hadn’t changed much.

She was definitely still eyeing him carefully and a bit closer, but all in all kept a steady focus. It wasn’t the colors of disappointment that it had been, but Caleb was realizing even as he listed off some of the key facts about Hera Syndulla, that he was the one who hadn’t taken risks.

“And even though I’ve memorized a lot of this, I clearly hadn’t taken a necessary page,” He sighed, “But I tried to ask you.”

“Really? Because nothing ever really got to me.” She crossed her arms.

“The timing wasn’t right,” He shook his head, “I wanted it to be big, to be perfect. I didn’t want to ask right after you lost either.”

“I didn’t lose. I took second,” She reminded him, “Very narrowly, might I add.”

“True, but I was pretty intimidated by it. I have been since I first met you and thought it was crazy you even chose to talk to me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re you.” He gestured to her, unsure how she wasn’t seeing what he was.

“And you’re you,” She mimicked him.

“So?”

“So, that’s pretty great to me,” She flushed, “And the fact that you can’t see that is making all of this confusion make a lot more sense. I have been patient all semester for you to ask me out and you never do. If I had hair, I’d want to rip it out!”

“The timing was killing me, but I’m realizing that there’s truly never going to be a good time,” He echoed the advice he’d been given, renewed strength flowing through him. “And that part of the problem, was me.”

“Just part of it?”

“Hey, I’m trying to lead up to something here,” He held out a hand and felt his heart stutter as she took it.

“Now would be especially dreadful,” She smiled slowly, if not daringly. Deep in her eyes, despite what her mouth said, she couldn’t look happier at the prospect. This made for the damning undeniable proof that Hera liked him. She liked him .

“Since you’re utterly pissed with my courtship incompetence.” He teased.

“That much can be remedied.” She sniffed, “If you’re up to the task.”

A slow smile spread across his lips, “Hera Syndulla, will you-”

“-Guys, come quick!” Cikatro Vizago came bursting through the great hall doors, his usual cocky demeanor completely gone. He took one moment to survey the situation at hand, offered Caleb a sly and knowing grin, and then waved for them to follow over his shoulder, “Ziro is publicly accusing Hogwarts of stealing Jabba’s son! Everyone’s about to fight!”

Feeling as though sand had filled his lungs at the sheer ludicrousy of this intrusion, Caleb gaped and was about to move to follow Cikatro before a firm hand touched his arm.

“That’s very important,” Hera said tightly, “But before we go, will you agree to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

He looked at the door and then he looked at her. Screw timing.

“Hell yeah,” Was all he could think to say. Judging by Hera’s smile, it was the right thing to say.

Cody had been weighing on whether or not to attend Skywalker’s press junket. It didn’t exactly feel like a pep rally or anything more than a big excuse for the Kenobis to show off that they were adoptive parents of the year. Obi-Wan hadn’t said this much, of course, but considering the direction his friend was heading in, he doubted he ever would. That didn’t mean Cody couldn’t read between the lines on his own.

He just wasn’t sure if he felt like dealing with the politics of this damn tournament right now. He’d just come off a pretty solid workout sans the champion he was supposed to be training and didn’t want any negativity to bring down his day.

Then again, it had felt wrong not to support Skywalker by attending. He just didn’t see why the Kenobis insisted on having so many of these events. Seeing as Dooku had blown up a house in Calvary just that day, it felt like waving the kid around like a piece of meat.

Either way, Cody found his way to the great hall just as it was bustling with enthusiastic outrage, particularly from Hogwarts students. There were plenty of angry students from the other schools as well, but none compared to the host school, which was absolutely volatile in response.

Ziro was on stage, not appearing very affected by this response, though was obviously ignoring both Yoda’s and Windu’s attempts at ushering him off the stage. It was unclear whether or not Skywalker actually got to talk, because the Kenobis had presumably removed the kid from the scene as the press had quickly changed its focus.

It seemed like all three schools were ready to go at each other’s throats and were seconds from doing so until Headmaster Yoda segmented each faction of students under their own bubble, forcing them apart. Everyone was confused for a moment, which provided him the time to be able to amplify his voice above all their cries and shouts.

“Investigate this we will, Headmaster Tiure.” He said, “But tear us apart, we will not allow this. Go back to your dormitories, you all will. Peacefully and efficiently.”

Everyone seemed to debate on how well they were going to comply, especially the students from the other schools, until Headmaster Se nodded encouragingly and Ziro merely huffed in reluctant approval. So, everyone started to slowly dwindle out of the great hall, starting with the paparazzi, who were very disappointed that their time was cut short.

“What’s going on?” Cody asked, pulling Rex to the side.

“It was so sudden,” Rex said, brow furrowed and focused as he tried to look over the larger students that blocked his way, “Ziro is accusing someone from Hogwarts of Hutt-napping Jabba’s son.”

“Based on what?” Cody frowned.

“Apparently, they found his baby blanket in the professor’s corridor today.” Rex said, “Not much else got out beyond that.”

“Sounds fishy to me,” Cody said.

“I heard the blanket smelled fishy too.” He said, “Then someone accused Durmstrang of being salty about Quinlan taking third and they got into an uproar.”

“Beauxbatons has been pretty quiet if you ask me,” Fives said as he came over. Both he and Echo were playing the part of lion mascot today, it seemed, but each looked ferocious in their anger.

“They’re all shady,” Echo agreed.

“Not all of them,” Caleb Dume cut in sharply.

“Yeah, whatever, Romeo.” Fives huffed, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s pretty convenient that Ziro would drop this bombshell during Skywalker’s victory press junket.”

“To be fair, he’s had quite a few of those.” Cody said, “It’s not like this is the first time he’s talked to the press.”

“Who cares? It’s the last time it’ll happen before the next task most likely,” Echo said and turned to Rex, “You should probably catch up with him, mate. Who knows what the killer Kenobis are poisoning his head with?”

Rex scowled, “Why do I feel like you’re just trying to get rid of me so you can talk amongst yourselves?”

Cody palmed Rex’s buzzed head and smirked, “Because you’re pretty smart. Now, go on.”

Rolling his eyes, Rex cut through the swarm of moving children in hopes of finding Anakin. When he was fully submerged into the crowd, Fives and Echo turned to Cody with matching grimaces coloring their identical faces.

“So, what good news do you two have for me?” He snorted.

“We overheard the boys talking. They were pretty pissed you didn’t show today.” Fives said.

“I’m here now,” Cody gestured around them and despite this, no one seemed to really pay any mind, “And no one’s exactly had the bollocks to come up and say anything to my face about it.”

“It’s just this bloody tournament,” Echo sighed heavily, “It’s like they’ve forgotten everything you’ve done for this house through the years.”

“And we aren’t going to stand to hear it,” Fives added as they walked, “We’re brothers first, housemates second, after all.”

“Boys, I appreciate the concern and the loyalty,” Cody had to smile at that too, because if there was anyone that had his back, it was his squad. His original squad. The Fetts stuck together through the thickest of situations and nothing about that was going to change. “However, I don’t want you sticking your necks out for me. I’m out this year. You lot have a few years left, not to mention Rexy having the latter half of his education ahead of him.”

“That’s why we sent him on,” Echo said, “That, and he’d been a little trigger-happy since Krell came back.”

“He’ll be fine,” Cody assured, “If anyone thinks I’m not going to support my best mate through this tournament, they can take that up with me directly.”

“You mean… It doesn’t bother you that some are talking about stripping you of your title?” Fives asked tentatively, not wanting to upset his older brother, but also feeling as though this was something that should be known.

Cody knew his emotions had to be at least slightly transparent, because both sets of eyes watching him saddened a bit, but he took a page from Kenobi’s book and shoved his feelings on the matter in check, “They can try, but Windu would never allow for it.”

“That’s true,” Echo nodded, “It’s not like it’s all of Gryffindor asking for it, anyway.”

“Just some very loud ones,” Fives said, still not including exactly who was saying these things behind Cody’s back.

“Anyone actually from the Quidditch squad?” He asked.

They thought about it and then winced, “I heard Clovis had a thing or two to say about it, but no one of any real importance or shock.”

“Certainly not the starters,” Echo said, “They’d never dream of it.”

“Look, mates, if the people I care about don’t think so low of me, then I can live with that. Anyone else can happily tell themselves whatever stories of treason they want to tell. That’s on them.” Cody said firmly, “I’ve got other things to worry about, like how the hell I’m going to tie a bow tie.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t exactly disappointed that Ventress had turned on her heels upon seeing him approach down the hall, but was rather curious that between the two of them, she was fleeing him . It wasn’t as though he was looking for her anyway. In fact, his true intentions for wandering the castle so late were to do some investigating of his own on this supposed kidnapping. And by investigating, he’d intended on stopping by the Headmaster’s office.

He didn’t quicken his pace, only continued as he went, not enthusiastic in the slightest to catch up, but not retreating either. Though unmistakably downtrodden, he was replaced with a sensation of having very little to lose at this point.

“I’d heard you attended Anakin’s party,” He said plainly, nodding courteously at a passing ghost or two, “Don’t tell me you’re trying to leech off of a different contender now.”

He was being facetious, of course, but even as a joke the concept still sickened him. Ventress was a poisonous knife that Obi-Wan was more than willing to take for Anakin, amongst many other threats. As it were, many were pointing out that he didn’t need such protection from him.

He didn’t give off any discomfort, lest she discover leverage to hold over him. Instead, she turned, rolling her eyes as she did so and crossing her arms over her torso.

“And what, exactly, else was I to do?” She asked, her voice icy and unforgiving.

He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, “Doesn’t really speak of loyalty to your betrothed.”

She narrowed cobalt eyes until they were thin slits, her frown deep and contemplative at what his move here was. In all fairness, he went against the grain of his house in this regard, because he didn’t have one. He just knew he was angry and that it was very easy to be callous to Ventress, who would never be a victim to anyone.

“You’ve not exactly given me much to work with,” She turned her pointed nose up.

“I believe I could say the same,” Obi-Wan commented snarkily, “Your cynicism and cruelty is hardly an endearing trait.”

“Good,” She said, “I’d much prefer fear to admiration from the likes of you. You wouldn’t know true esteem if it smacked you in the face.”

He disagreed, but changed course, “So, it’s fearsome to throw yourself at the mercy of the press all in order to gain status and popularity.”

“Do not even try to pretend you are superior than I am in that regard,” She seethed.

“I am not posting myself in front of the cameras for all to gawk at.” He said and then added, “Not willingly, anyway.”

“You’re wallowing and saving face, just as they want you to,” She laughed, “Do you truly believe you’ve been acting in anything but their own accordance? You may run, but you haven’t escaped that squeaky wheel.”

“I made it clear I wasn’t going to,” He said.

“No, no, I heard,” She smirked, “So sad to hear it all come down in flames and not have a proper audience to watch.”

“You’re foul,” He said.

“Maybe, but I’m tradition,” She said, “And true to tradition, I am following the direction of the family. Seeing as you couldn’t be bothered to lift yourself from your own self-pity, you wouldn’t know that.”

She turned back, continuing towards what he assumed was the Slytherin common room and their steps, though far apart in distance, were in perfect synchronization. He couldn’t see up close, but the tension in her shoulders insinuated that this was grating on her.

“Is that so?” He asked. “Because last year, you tried to kill Anakin all in the name of a dark crusade that I can and never will support so long as I live. And now, you’re riding his coattails like a pathetic harpy? If anyone has my pity, it’s you.”

She turned again, pointing a sharp finger at him. If they were standing closer, he was sure she’d have slapped him, “You go right ahead and stand on your pillar of righteousness, but do not come crying to me when the only way off of it is by the noose that’s already wrapped around your neck.”

“And who placed it there?” He asked coldly.

“Not me,” She said. “You’ve lost. Now grow up and get over it.”

“I don’t care about losing this tournament,” He said firmly, “I care about Anakin’s safety.”

“I wasn’t talking about the tournament,” She smiled and it wasn’t comforting nor was it intended to be. Instead, it served as a chilling reminder of what was to come. He didn’t think it was possible to dislike her any more, but had achieved new heights just then. All the same, it was his self-loathing that truly increased.

“Is this what awaits us?” He voiced his own woes for a moment, the anger deflating from him all at once.

“Don’t you worry, dear,” She bore her teeth as she said it, meaning it was just as loathsome to say as it was to hear coming from her, “Come the Yule Ball, I will be back on your arm like the ball and chain I am designed to be. And we will be on the next news cycle as intended.”

“I don’t recall asking you.” He said.

“I don’t recall you having any other choice.”

With tensions running high throughout the school surrounding Ziro’s accusation, Anakin was largely left unattended. Press when it could sneak its way in was now harassing professors and the various headmasters who had little more to say on the matter then that it was under investigation. Anakin, however, was a man of opportunity.

Windu was off busy dealing with the investigators most days which left plenty of opportunity for Anakin to resume an activity he hadn’t had the chance to in awhile. Sneaking about the castle. The tunnels, while most had been closed the previous year, the ones within the walls of the castle were starting to lose the charms that had been placed on them. Hogwarts castle was practically a living thing after all and it certainly hadn’t authorized a facelift. The tunnels to outside the grounds remained fiercely closed much to his disappointment, but he supposed he wasn’t trying to break into Hogsmeade these days.

“Check this out,” Anakin boasted to Rex as he tapped his wand on a few stones watching as the wall melted away, “This tunnel’s nearly completely reformed!”

“And this one leads...?” Rex was standing by writing on a bit of parchment from the light of his wand tip.

“To just inside the Great Hall!” Anakin exclaimed gleefully.

“Wait,” Rex frowned, “There wasn’t a tunnel to the Great Hall before.”

Anakin shrugged, “It decided to change,” He said as though it were obvious, but he was still reeling over the tunnel that now led into the lake instead of Slytherin’s common room. He had learned that one the hard way and was still trying to get the fishy smell out of his cloak.

“Alright and we’re exploring this one why?” Rex prompted as he joined Anakin inside. Anakin glanced behind him at the very technical non-magical map that Rex was sketching along the way. It would certainly do to keep track of such things. The primitive one Obi-Wan and Satine had made a few years ago hadn't been updated to such things.

“Well it's important that we know the lay of the land,” Anakin started before smirking and dropping all pretenses, “I have a plan!”

“Of course you do,” Rex rolled his eyes as they both slid down a section of tunnel that was more of a slide than anything else. He made a note on the parchment to learn a spell about creating stairs before they tried to climb up it.

“The Yule Ball is going to be mad boring,” Anakin grimaced, “No one in our year gets to go which seems really unfair, so I thought at least we should sneak you in,” Anakin pushed on the wall in front of them and it melted away instantly. They both stepped out and gazed around.

“Won’t they notice pretty quickly that I’m there?” Rex pointed out, “I don’t see us getting very far with it.”

“Well I’m sort of hoping once you’re already there, they’ll realize how cool you are and make an exception,” Anakin shrugged as he approached the teachers table on top of the stage.

“That’s some real wishful thinking there mate,” Rex pointed out, raising an eyebrow, “I think it’s more likely that we’ll both be in detention for life.”

“It’s worth a try and who knows!” Anakin giggled as he noticed the tiny ladder attached to the headmasters podium, Yoda sure was short, “Maybe they’ll realize that we should all get a chance for these sorts of things, not just the older students.”

“I’m thinking it would be the former,” Anakin froze and both him and Rex turned to see Professor Windu standing in the entryway with his arms crossed, “Be lucky I caught you when I did or you would be in much bigger trouble.”

“We were just going to practice a few speeches for the Ball!” Anakin immediately lied, “I figured practicing in the right venue would be better than rehearsing in my room.”

“There are no speeches for the Yule Ball,” Windu pointed out as he started approaching. There was no use running so Anakin just doubled down.

“Not officially, but hey I was thinking about giving one, rally the schools and all that. Wizarding togetherness!” He’d heard Padmé and Satine talk about how that was supposed to be the point of this competition, but he didn’t think Windu would buy it.

“Nice try Skywalker,” He shook his head, “I’ll see you and Fett in detention tomorrow night for being out of bed past curfew.”

Rex swore under his breath and Anakin winced.

“Well if that’s all, we’ll be going!” Anakin tried to make a run for it, but Windu caught his shoulder.

“Fett, you can go on ahead. Skywalker, a word.”

Rex scurried out of the room with nothing more than a backwards glance at Anakin who hissed, “Traitor!” after him.

“I can see you’re not taking the Yule Ball seriously,” Windu started and Anakin rolled his eyes.

“It’s not supposed to be serious! It’s supposed to be fun, it’s just a dance,” He debated.

Windu pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, “It’s a ceremony first and foremost and you’ll be there representing Hogwarts. How will we look as a school with you plotting and scheming?”

“Better than Ziro’s making Durmstrang look-”

“Since you’ve given me evidence of shenanigans I have no choice, but to ban you from participating in the event-”

“That’s not fair!” Anakin cut it with a scowl, “I have to be there as a champion!”

“Oh you’ll be there” Windu nodded, “But under more watchful eyes.”

“But you just said I won’t be participating,” Anakin looked up at him confused, “Don’t tell me you’re finally going mad Professor Windu.”

Electing to ignore his last statement, Windu continued, “You can join the other champions in the first dance as it’s part of the ceremony, after that you can help our kitchen staff with serving food and drink-”

“You mean I have to work this thing?!” Anakin demanded, “No way, in that case I won’t go at all!”

“If you want to continue being a part of this tournament you will be there,” his professor gave him a long steely look, “Otherwise they’ll pull you from the second and possibly third tasks.”

“That’s not fair!” Anakin crossed his arms tightly, “Why don’t I ever get to have any fun?”

“Life isn’t fair,” Windu sighed, “Perhaps if you didn’t see it fit to scheme at every turn, you would have had some fun. Now get to bed before I see you for a few days more detention.”

Knowing when to quit, Anakin stomped from the hall. Once he was out of earshot he hissed quietly, “Windu wouldn’t know fun if it bit him on the arse!”

In her short time of knowing him, Ventress hadn’t known Quinlan Vos to be quite so stoic or serious, but as he passed her by with a crinkle between his thick brows and little regard to his surroundings, it seemed to be that he was in rare form. At first, she’d assumed he hadn’t noticed her, because the idiot could hardly resist making a comment as he passed her. Never were they explicit or rude, exactly, but smug all the same.

However, at the last second, she caught the way his eyes flickered at the page he held before averting back to what he was reading.

“The rules of peek-a-boo don’t exactly work on me,” She drawled, unimpressed.

“I’m not hiding,” He said gruffly, “But I am busy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to be disturbing you,” She said archly, “Not like you’ve had any issue with being a nuisance to me in the past.”

“If I was truly unwanted, you would have made that clearer than sharp glares and petty eye rolls.” He said without looking up, “You’ve not hesitated in turning people to stone for less.”

Ventress scowled, hating the plainness in his voice and how irritatingly unfazed he was by the weight of them. Ventress, despite her own failures, had played a major part of instilling fear into not only the school, but the surrounding community as well. Yes, she’d utilized Maul’s escape as well, but that maniac hadn’t possessed enough tact to do what she did. Yet Vos said it with confidence that she wouldn’t do anything like that to him.

She was certainly tempted at the moment.

Then again, it angered her more how easy it was for him to get the best of her. He wasn’t even trying and hardly paid her any mind, but here she was, eager for the opportunity to snap at him. It had become a strangely comfortable dynamic and it was unnerving that somehow she had become the gadfly.

“What’s the matter with you? Stumble upon a word you can’t read? I’m guessing Durmstrang hasn’t gotten beyond teaching multisyllabic words.” She placed her hands on her hips.

He didn’t take the bait, only shaking his head, “Just going to do some studying with friends. If you’re looking for Kenobi, I think he’s with Cody across the library.”

She grimaced at the thought of her supposed fiance, “Believe me, I am not looking for him.”

“I’d ask if there was trouble in paradise, but that would require paradise to have existed on some level,” He said pointedly, folding up the parchment in his hands and placing it in his breast pocket.

“Paradise doesn’t exist,” She said, “We’ve only got what we can make here.”

“And are you happy with what you’re making?” He asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “I will be.”

“Then do it,” He said, “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

Her mouth hung open for a minute. The audacity of this moron, for thinking that she’d ever believed she had. “I know that.”

“Good.” He said shortly. “I guess all I can do is wish you the best,” He said with a shrug, “You wanna be the ice queen? Go for it.”

“And you don’t have some smart ass comment for me?” She taunted, “It’s hardly like you to hold your thoughts.”

“Well, you’ve made it clear that we don’t really know each other and that you’ve got even less interest in knowing anyone that doesn’t give you public gain.” He said, “So I’m done chasing you around and trying to make you into something that you’re not. That one was on me and I apologize.”

“You’re apologizing.” She said in befuddlement. “To me?”

“And to myself,” He said, “I’d say I’ll see you around, but I’d really rather not at this point. I doubt my date would like it very much if I continued this conversation.”

“You’ve got a date?” She asked.

“I asked them.” He said with a shrug, “And believe it or not, I didn’t even need to blackmail or hold them emotionally hostage. We all have our own system though.”

“You’re a bastard.” She spat.

“And you’re alone.” He retorted before going along his way, “And I feel sorry for you.”

“That’s it, Windu has gone too far this time.” Anakin groaned as he took a seat across from Obi-Wan and Cody in the library. Both seventh years were studying avidly for an upcoming Transfiguration exam, though Anakin didn’t seem remotely concerned about this and was taken back by their lack of interest.

“What’d you get for number five?” Cody murmured.

“For the last time, we have different variations of the practice exam.” Obi-Wan sighed, but it was no secret that the guy was more distracted than usual when it came to studying.

“Um, hello?” Anakin waved a hand in front of their faces. “Aren’t you at least a little bit interested in the cruel and unusual punishment Windu has put me through?”

“No, not really.” Cody said, “Because I’m much more interested in the fact that I’m definitely going to fail this exam.”

“What is it, Anakin?” Obi-Wan begrudgingly took the bait, much to Cody’s annoyance. He had a soft spot for the kid too, but not enough to sacrifice his future for him.

“Well,” Anakin leaned forward, happy to finally have an audience, “He’s out to get me, as we all know.”

“Not at all.” Cody said while Obi-Wan simultaneously made an unsure sound in the back of his throat. At least they were on the same page about that.

The third year still continued as though he didn’t hear them, “He’s determined to make this tournament completely un-fun for me as punishment. I’m not allowed to go to the Yule Ball! And for no reason at all!”

Cody only snorted at that, finding it very hard to believe that this punishment was unwarranted. A little birdy had mentioned to him certain shenanigans that involved planning to sneak the youngest member of the Fett clan into the ball. It was definitely an idea that Cody could get behind in theory, but not at Skywalker’s steed, not when he had a penance for getting caught.

“How is that going to work?” Obi-Wan asked. “You’re necessary at minimum for the opening dance.”

“Yeah, I know,” He said pointedly, as though he were the brains of the operation, “But when I kindly mentioned that, he said I could go, but as a busboy . I have to spend the entire night cleaning up after and serving you guys.”

“Can you start this servitude early by heeding my order to leave so I don’t fail out?” Cody asked.

Obi-Wan placed a firm hand on Cody’s shoulder. “Relax. We’ll study through the night and you’ll be right as rain. When Satine joins, I’m sure she’ll be happy to help too.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Anakin snorted and kicked his feet back on the table. Cody was envious at how little concern the kid had.

This immediately captured Obi-Wan’s attention with a quiet alarm that made Cody want to look elsewhere. There was a level of focus in his eyes that neither had seen under any other pretense except in urgency.

“Why do you say that?” He asked slowly.

Anakin shared a look with Cody, as if to say “You didn’t tell him?!” to which Cody simply buried his nose further into the textbook in front of him. He may have been struggling in Transfiguration, but he was no dummy. Sure, leaving Anakin to explain this one might have been a tad cruel to the bloke, but he had to learn somehow.

It was evident that the third year did not quite understand the tumultuous battlefield that was teenage romance nor did he grasp the pitfalls that came with it.

“She’s across the library with some Durmstrang and Beaubaxton kids.” Anakin frowned. “I always sort of knew I didn’t have her in my fanbase for the competition, but to think she’d totally jump ship and go for another school is-”

“-She’s what?” Obi-Wan cut him off. “W-Why is she with them?”

“You should probably be asking her that, considering I don’t mingle with traitors. Not to worry, mate, I’m team Kenobi. Well, not for the tournament. I’m team Skywalker for that of-”

“-That’s a little melodramatic.” Cody added, “Nowhere is it written that Satine can’t study with other schools.”

“Maybe not physically written, but there’s definitely a code.” Anakin paused, “Though come to think of it, you never officially got dibs, Obi-Wan.”

“I am not having this conversation with you right now, but in short, you cannot call ‘dibs’ on a person.” Obi-Wan said. He leaned his whole body to the side to try and peek around the bookcase to their right. He was almost completely out of his chair but had clearly caught sight of Satine sitting across from a bunch of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students, including his opposing champions. Obi-Wan couldn’t seem to look away, despite the hurt that flashed across his face.

“What could she have to talk to them about?” He asked as he resumed normal rim-rod-straight posture, “She knows Cody’s struggling with transfiguration.”

Cody resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because obviously Obi-Wan’s irritation had nothing to do with grades, at least not deep down. Had that been the case, they would actually be studying instead of talking about who Satine was electing to spend her time with.

“You’re better at explaining most of this stuff anyway.” He said with a shrug, because truly, he was not hurt that their friend decided to sit with someone else for once. In fact, after what happened at Diagon Alley, he was surprised it hadn’t gone farther than that.

“Do you think they’re discussing the tournament?” Anakin asked, “Because word on the street is that Vos already figured out the next challenge.”

Cody really wanted to wallop the kid for his tendency of making matters far worse.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Obi-Wan said. “She’d never betray… The school like that.”

“You also thought she’d always study here but- Ow!” Anakin exclaimed off Cody’s insistent kick from under the table.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, mate.” Cody placed a hand on his shoulder. “She just needs some time to cool off.”

Obi-Wan looked unsure but nodded nonetheless and moved to continue the practice worksheets he’d developed for them. It was highly likely that he didn’t develop them alone, because some of the handwriting didn’t resemble the rigidity of Obi-Wan’s and had sleek loops to the lowercase y’s and g’s, some of which his friend was clearly getting caught up over.

“You’re looking pretty starry-eyed there, Dume,” Ryder Azadi teased, raising a blond eyebrow as they dove into their respective lunches.

“He’s been that way ever since Hera Syndulla asked him to the ball,” Fenn Rau explained.

“And I suspect he’ll be that way for a while thereafter as well,” Saw Gerrara added before taking a big bite into the sandwich he’d concocted for himself. It was rather large with several different layers of meats and cheeses that Caleb couldn’t name. The one plus to having the two other schools around was all the different food options they were introduced to.

Unsurprisingly, Durmstrang was big on protein.

“Honestly, I’m pretty surprised no one’s talking about it like that.” Ryder said, “I mean, you’re dating a champion! Guys were lining up to ask Hera to the ball!”

“Yeah, and every girl is fuming over the recent news that Vos is off the market.” Rau agreed, “Not to mention the constant buzz that is Kenobi’s minefield of a love life.”

One that ever so briefly, Fenn Rau had found himself trapped in the midst of. He’d emerged fairly unscathed and was taking one of Padmé Amidala’s friends, Rabé. As far as Caleb could tell, they were more or less going as friends, but he was glad Rau wasn’t flying solo.

“To be fair, we’re not dating yet,” He said, “Not officially, but I don’t intend on it being that way for long.”

“Oh no? Grown some courage, eh?” Ryder asked.

“Considering she asked him to the dance, I think he owes it to her and himself to show he’s not a little baby,” Saw said.

“Harsh, mate,” Caleb grumbled, “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

“You say that like I’m wrong,” He wiped his mouth, which previously had been smeared with mustard from how aggressively he tore into that sandwich, “But you know I’m right. Everyone else here asked someone to the ball. You got asked.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Caleb asked, “I’m a modern man.”

“I like a girl that takes initiative,” Rau offered sagely.

“Yeah, okay,” He rolled his eyes, “But just so we’re clear, you’re damn lucky to be considered a coward rather than a traitor.”

Caleb frowned, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Yeah, Saw? What are you on about now? Ryder asked.

In all fairness, Saw Gerrara was known amongst Hogwarts to be a little… Intense. It was one of the reasons he never made the cut for the Quidditch team. There was competition and then there was Saw, who treated everything like an active war zone where there were no rules, only the right side and the wrong side. If you ever crossed that line, you were dead to him.

Caleb couldn’t imagine seeing the world so plainly, but Saw obviously did. He liked the guy, of course, but it meant that you had to avoid any topics like politics, religion, or philosophy around him.

“I’m talking about the fact that you’re basically messing with the enemy,” Saw said casually, “Now that it looks like Anakin can really win this thing, I wouldn’t be surprised if you turn some heads at the ball.”

“Does anyone actually really care who I date?” Caleb complained, “I’m no celebrity around here. And you didn’t seem to have a problem with it before.”

“That was before this missing Hutt nonsense,” He sniffed, face furrowed into deep contemplation that seemed to cast a shadow over him, “Someone is trying to turn the schools against each other and if that happens, you better know what side you’re on.”

Caleb looked at all of them. Ryder and Rau had gone silent, unreadable in the looks they exchanged.

“Er yeah, I do,” Caleb said slowly, “The side where we all don’t turn on each other.”

“I’m just saying, first it was Cody with his unyielding support of Ravenclaw,” Saw shook his head, clearly bothered by that still, “But that’s at least on our turf. That’ll be forgiven in a war amongst the three major wizarding schools.”

“In Europe,” Fenn Rau added rather weakly, “Because… There are others. I doubt they’d care much though.”

“I barely do,” Ryder sighed and looked at Saw wearily, “You Gryffindor’s and your rivalries. Must you always be so intense?”

“I second that,” Rau added.

“Who cares if Cody is friends with Obi-Wan? That’s how it’s always been.” Caleb laughed incredulously, “I’d be happy for him if he won too. That doesn’t make me support Skywalker any less or want a Gryffindor win any less. I can separate my priorities.”

“But do you have them in proper order?” Saw needled, his azure eyes sharp in contrast to his smooth dark skin.

“I’m beginning to think of the two of us, I’m the only one who does,” Caleb shook his head.

“Just because you don’t like it, doesn’t mean it isn’t going to happen,” Saw sighed, “And I highly doubt those pompous Beauxbatons kids are going to want you on their side. They’re smart and savvy.”

“And they trust Hera.” Caleb said, “As well as her judgment of character. Just like how you should trust Cody or me.”

“I do trust you, Dume,” He said, “I’m just trying to prepare you for it.”

“And Cody?”

“Cody needs to figure out exactly where he stands. He can’t keep teetering in the middle forever.”

Seeing as the Quidditch field wasn’t getting any other use this year (much to his chagrin), Cody did end up meeting Satine near the field. It was her turn to patrol the exterior of the school as prefect and he figured he could use the fresh air. He’d always argued that she and Obi-Wan could simply relegate this duty to an underclassman, but neither ever did.

Obi-Wan had to write a personal letter to the Daily Prophet regarding his thoughts and feelings about the upcoming Yule Ball. With how intricate his letters could get, it would take time. It gave him a good opportunity to catch up with her.

Besides, he loved how the Quidditch field looked when adorned with pillows of snow coating the once evergreen plains. Satine’s cheeks and nose were pink from the cold in contrast to her pale white skin.

“This is actually Obi-Wan’s shift.” She said stiffly when he’d once again brought up the possibility. “I accepted it before… Well, I’d agreed a couple weeks ago.”

“That was nice of you.” He said tensely. He had really wanted to keep off the subject of Obi-Wan, but knew it was inevitable since he really hadn’t spoken with Satine about this in full. “How are you?”

She frowned, “It’s not as though someone died, Cody. I’m fine.”

“Right, yeah, I know, but you’ve certainly been distant lately.”

“Can you blame me?” She asked incredulously.

“Honestly, no.” He said and they continued walking in silence for a little while, “I would just like to know if you’ll be getting me on weekends-only or if you’ll be using a transitioning system. I’ve been through the divorced parents thing once and I’m quite good at it.”

She relaxed a little, “I’m sorry you’ve been yanked into the middle of all this. It’s truly not fair to you.”

“I’m used to it.” He smiled, but this did not ease the frown on her face, “Really, I’d just like you both to be happy. I used to always think that the logical step was for you two to just get it over with and get together, but now…”

She turned to him with concern written on her features, “What?”

“I’m not so sure.” He shrugged.

“Me neither,” She said and then groaned, “Everything made a whole lot more sense when we were 12 and tossing snowballs in this very field. No life or death situations, no tournament, no stupid feelings.”

“You beamed Kenobi so hard in the face that you knocked those prescription glasses off his head.”

She laughed. “I forgot about those. His parents were so insistent that he needed them when he has absolutely perfect eyesight.”

She seemed to grow a little sad at that, even as she chuckled and stared off somewhere in the open distance. The past was fickle and it was easy to lose oneself in wishing for it to return, but Cody had to admit that life was easier when their problems were solved with a butterbeer at Three Broomsticks.

“I really thought we could save him from all that.” She said, “But he doesn’t want to save himself.”

Cody had a hard time arguing with that. “You know it’s not easy, Satine.”

“Of course it isn’t, but the fact of the matter is there’s a reason he wouldn’t ask me at Madam Malkin’s and it’s not them, or him, but who I am at the end of the day and even if I wanted to change who I am or where I came from, I can’t. And he shouldn’t want me to. So, I’ve found an alternative that wanted me enough to ask- politics be damned.”

“I knew I should have brought my invisible ink decoder ring,” Anakin complained as he and Rex hunched over the dim candlelight afforded to them so late at night in the shrouded alcove of Anakin’s four poster bed. If they spoke too loud, they’d wake the other boys, and any time that happened, Anakin knew they were essentially asking for eels in their slippers.

Rex gave him a bewildered look over his shoulder, “How do you possess one of those? There’s only a record of three in the entire existence of history!”

Anakin smirked, “You gotta know which cereal box to pick from, Rex.”

Rex did not know what that meant in the slightest, but packed that line of conversation for later. He wasn’t sure where Anakin had been shopping for cereal his whole life, but wizarding boxes typically contained a stupid cheap plastic gag in them that was fun for approximately two minutes.

“Well, your theory that it was written with glow-in-the-dark ink is disproven,” He said after some time of staring at a blank page. “Makes sense, though. I heard from my brother, Hevy, that getting those glow worms to write is pretty difficult.”

“So is commandeering a dragon and that was possible!” Anakin whispered as he flopped backwards onto his bed. “I’ve got to be the first one to figure out this scroll, Rex.”

“You weren’t the first to solve the last riddle and you still won the first task,” Rex reminded him.

“Last time we at least had a riddle to work with,” Anakin said, staring up at the photographs and newspaper articles tacked to the ceiling of his bed. Most would have expected them to all be in regards to Anakin’s various victories and triumphs through the past couple of years, or even weeks. Instead, they consisted of what little-reported information they had on his mother’s disappearance.

Rex’s heart twanged. Yes, despite the zest for danger and excitement that his friend tended to have, he needed to remind himself what the reason was for. Behind closed curtains, Anakin looked pretty tired. There was still that unyielding sense of purpose in his gaze, but physically, he was still so young.

Chosen one or not, the hand that was dealt to him was grossly unfair. Rex knew about the letters Anakin kept sending to the Auror’s office. A flair of rage sparked at the thought of how careless they were about responding. Sure, they were likely busy with Dooku, even if the Daily Prophet had chosen not to report much on it. However, to completely ignore a young boy’s cry for help was callous beyond belief.

Though only 13, Rex was starting to understand his father’s distaste for the Ministry and how they operated.

“Hey,” Rex reached out and squeezed Anakin’s ankle as some form of reassurance. His eyes were droopy, but alert as he looked down to where Rex was perched at the end of the bed. “You’re going to win.”

Anakin scoffed, a display of humility to show how much he trusted Rex not to tell anyone that he was afraid. When he thought he was going to argue Rex’s assertion, he didn’t. At least, not plainly.

“Do you think she’s watching me?” He asked quietly, “From where ever she is? In the tournament, I mean.”

Rex wasn’t sure how to answer that correctly, or if there even was a correct answer to give. Saying that his mother was watching him perform insinuated that she had the freedom to do so and was actively avoiding reuniting with him. If he said he didn’t believe she was watching him, that would imply something horrible had happened or was currently happening to her. Neither seemed particularly comforting nor did the long stretch of silence that fell between them.

Instead, Rex sighed, “I believe that when you’re reunited, she’ll be really proud of you.”

“I think the Kenobis think she’s dead,” Anakin said thickly.

“Is that what they said?” Rex asked.

“Not exactly,” He shifted so he was sitting up, his blue eyes bright with worry, “It’s just how they’ve been talking to me lately. They’re still nice, of course, but they keep brushing by the subject when I bring it up. I feel like they know something that they don’t want to tell me.”

“Have you asked them about it?”

“I don’t exactly get a lot of personal time. They didn’t want me to talk about her during that conference, you know, the one that got interrupted by Ziro,” He went on, “Mr. Kenobi said that I should focus on my own success and push my image first and foremost.”

“That’s all you’ve been doing this entire time,” Rex groaned, frustrated, “You’ve won a bloody task! What else can you do?”

“Win the whole tournament, I guess,” Anakin said in a quiet voice, “Meanwhile, Dooku is still out there wrecking communities and hurting people. Why the news junkets aren’t turning their focus on him, I don’t know, but it’s only making me wonder if my mother was ever found…”

He trailed off, staring hard at some imaginable possible reality ahead of him before coming up with what he was trying to say, “I wonder if I would even be allowed to know about it.”

“You would,” Rex reflexively insisted and when Anakin shot him an unsure look, he shrugged, “I don’t see how they’d be able to keep it a secret.”

“Yeah, but we’re kids.” He said almost bitterly, “And nobody tells kids anything.”

That much was absolutely true, but Rex had to let the parchment that was set on the bedspread between them be the only emptiness present.

“Maybe not,” He said and met his eyes, “But we won’t be kids forever. And even with that in mind, I’ve never known you to be the type to lay down and accept what’s given to you.”

Anakin nodded firmly, “I’ll find her.”

“Yes, you will,” Rex assured him, “But not tonight. It’s late and you still need to get your suit for the yule ball.”

“The Kenobis sent me something,” He groaned, “It’s way too big though. I need to get it tailored.”

“You’re really going ahead with being a butler all night?” Rex chuckled.

“Oh, yes,” Rex was relieved to see Anakin go from sullen to mischievous in the span of seconds. This was the version of Anakin that shined truest and brightest. Every star dimmed at times, but Rex would always be around to ensure that he never went out completely.

Despite passing his transfiguration exam (narrowly, he might add), any traces of elation had vanished from Cody’s disposition when he noticed Obi-Wan sitting at lunch not alone and not with Satine, but with Ventress . Worst of all, it didn’t appear to be on any official business. Sure, his friend didn’t appear to be having a very pleasant time, but he didn’t make any move to leave. He had half a mind to go ahead and join Satine, who sat with Bail Organa, Aayla Secura, Stass Allie, Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla, and Quinlan Vos. Not only did that table feel incredibly full as was, but leaving Obi-Wan to the sharks felt wrong.

He made eye contact with Satine as he moved across the room, hoping to convey a neutral message as he did so. As sick as he was of this back and forth between them, he definitely preferred it when they were fighting. At least he didn’t feel as though he had to be split in two back then.

Luckily, when Ventress caught Cody’s eye as he walked over, she delivered some final scathing remark before gathering her things and getting up, being sure to shove past him despite there being plenty of room for her to walk.

“It’s not Halloween. Why was that she-demon walking about?” He quipped as he took her seat, not caring much if she heard him or not. The witch froze his best friend and his little brother last year in stone. Hurt feelings really didn’t concern Cody.

Obi-Wan was looking especially downcast, playing with his food as opposed to eating it. It reminded Cody a great deal of when they were first years. He took the moment to observe how easily things could change yet stay the same.

“You know, you could try apologizing. That might fix some things.” He offered.

He sighed, running a hand through meticulous auburn hair that by Obi-Wan’s neat and tidy standards, likely needed a trim. “I haven’t exactly had a moment alone with her since it happened.”

Cody took a bite of his burger. “You have Charms together next, right? It’s not like she can switch seats. Just be thankful your names are so close together in the alphabet.”

“That’s oversimplifying things a bit, wouldn’t you say?” He asked.

“Maybe, but I’d say you need that since you feel the need to translate everything to some complicated riddle in your head. I’m getting a little tired of feeling like the kid whose parents just split.”

Guilt swarmed into Obi-Wan’s dark blue eyes and Cody regretted it as soon as he’d said it, even if he’d hoped to layer it with the faint tones of a joke. Satine hadn’t taken kindly to that joke either and seemed just as guilty. Why had he picked the two most intense Ravenclaws as best friends?

“But beyond anything, mate, I’m tired of seeing you so sullen.”

“I accepted Ventress’ offer to go to the ball.” Obi-Wan said abruptly, not meeting Cody’s eyes likely out of fear of what he would see. Well, Ravenclaws were notorious for being wise beyond measure. Even if he had just done something incredibly stupid.

“You what ?” Cody snapped, disregarding the heads that had turned his way near them. “Are you mental?”

Truly, he must have been. Of all the stupid self-sacrificial stunts that Obi-Wan had pulled over the years to appease the tightening metaphorical noose around his neck, this had to be top of the list- even above entering in the Triwizard tournament. Even above what had happened at Madam Malkin’s, though Cody had a funny feeling that this was undoubtedly related.

“I need a date for the ball and it’s in a little over a week.” He said dejectedly, “She’s made the accurate point that I haven’t got much of another option. Unless you’d like to see me be the first champion to dance with one of the ghosts.”

And that was counting on them showing up. The ghosts made it clear on many occasions that they really did not care what happened in the living plain of existence.

“I’d say it’s got to be better than taking some stranger, but that would really be underselling the life-saving possibilities of going with someone who’s not Ventress.” He said. “Does Satine know?”

Obi-Wan frowned, “What’s it matter if she does or not? She evidently had a date in her back pocket this entire time.”

Oh, now he was just being an absolute moron.

“I suppose you’re both really going for the jugular, huh? So much for an easy divorce.” Cody muttered.

“I’ll be in and out, hopefully. The dance is the very first portion of the ball, luckily. After that, I can feign illness or something.”

“Since you’re going with Ventress, I don’t think you’ll need to be faking sick.” He said. “She might poison you.”

“Doubtful,” Obi-Wan didn’t sound like he was optimistic in the slightest, though, “She needs me if she wants to walk down the aisle so terribly.”

That did not make Cody feel any better.

“Have the Aurors found anything yet?” Windu asked Yoda after closing the door behind him to the Headmaster’s office.

“Found, no traces have been.” Yoda said mournfully.

“And the child?”

“No sign,” Yoda confirmed just as downtrodden, “Hoping for the best, I am.”

“And we’ve no clue how this would appear in the professor’s wing overnight?” Windu asked, “Or how Ziro of all people found out?”

“Have free reign of the castle, Nala Se and Ziro do.” He grimaced, “Have nothing to hide, we should.”

“Unless it truly was one of our own.”

How they continued to arrive back in this same spot, Yoda didn’t know, but he definitely didn’t trust that they were receiving anything remotely like the full story. Any calculated criminal capable of stealing Jabba’s son would have been smarter than to leave such an obvious trail. Why keep the blanket in the first place, after all?

“Have my suspicions, I do,” Yoda confirmed once looking up at Mace’s deep concern. If anyone should remain in the loop, it was Gryffindor’s head of house.

Answering his thoughts, Windu straightened, “Skywalker told us that Gunray was supposedly on his side now.”

“But not Obi-Wan’s,” Yoda said thoughtfully. If what they were suggesting was true, then it was quite possible there was a very dark and sinister plan going on behind the scenes. Even worse, was the implication of Ministry involvement.

“I kept my eyes on Gunray and Ziro the entire time,” Windu said, “Neither were remotely involved with the second task. If anything happened, it had to have been pre-planned.”

“Go through the Ministry, the tasks did,” Yoda said darkly, “Pre-placed, the shark could not have been.”

“It came from nowhere,” He paced, “And what is the possible motive?”

“Suspect two plots, I do.” Yoda said, “Separate, but related.”

They’d been skirting around each other all week, but the fight that Cody felt brimming under the surface had finally come just a couple of days before the actual ball. According to Obi-Wan, Satine had been icing him out during class and arriving just on time so as not to have time to talk before class started. However, they had a shared patrol that neither could get out of and Cody had been lucky enough to witness all of it.

And by lucky , he meant completely cursed.

He wasn’t supposed to be there at all, but was scheduled to meet with his own head of house in order to discuss his prospects of being recruited on a professional Quidditch team. This was hard to do when there wasn’t a Quidditch season to be scouted at, so he really needed to weigh his options.

While walking there, he ran into Satine first and was about to greet her when Obi-Wan also walked up. Instantly, the wide space of the large corridor already seemed to heat up with an intensity that was ready to explode.

“Hello.” Obi-Wan said as they stood aimlessly outside Professor Tahl’s office. She’d been the new Head of Ravenclaw house and while she hadn’t taken over Qui-Gon’s classroom, it did feel strange to Cody that the office no longer had “Professor Jinn” scribed on the outside plaque.

“Hi.” She said without daring to look over at him.

There was a pregnant pause that went on long enough where Cody might have been able to slip away unscathed, but Obi-Wan decided to dive in anyway. “So, about that day at Malkin’s-”

“-It’s water under the bridge.” She cut him off. “Would you like to go left while I go right and meet in the center?”

“Oh.” He said and it seemed to take the air out of him. Every facet of stability at his tenure at Hogwarts was crumbling to the ground. Eating together, studying together, going to class together, performing patrol together. Cody wondered if it occurred to Obi-Wan that this was how Satine likely felt when he’d been inadvertently ignoring her with Triwizard activities.

“Alright, I guess I’ll go left.” She said when it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer, “And you, as always, can take the path laid out for you.”

“Excuse me?” He rounded up on her before she could walk away from him. “And if I wanted to go left?”

“Then you would do it.” She said through gritted teeth, “Instead of waiting for someone to grant you access to it.”

“You’re the one so dead on going left that you refuse to even look to the right.” He said.

Cody had a feeling this wasn’t really about who was going to go which way, but decided to settle the disagreement at hand.

“Why don’t we flip a coin?”

Both ignored him, already getting red-faced at their burgeoning disagreement. “I have been taking your shifts, because you’re too busy being the champion to perform your duties. I’m surprised you even still know how to patrol at all.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t taken this mystery date along for patrol, because God knows the entire school can’t seem to stop talking about him.”

“I’ll spare you the investigation,” She said sardonically. “It’s Quinlan Vos.”

His jaw dropped. “You’re- How can you go with Vos?”

“Well, you see, he asked me.” She said, “And I said yes. Easy as that. Because frankly, that’s the way it should be. I’m sure it was just as easy for you to ask Ventress.”

Obi-Wan gaped like a fish out of water, making that two points of information he didn’t know. It almost seemed to strike harder than the knowledge that she was going with Quinlan Vos, who everyone in school was utterly obsessed with.

“At least I was decent enough not to toss that in your face.”

“Ah yes, you’re a saint. Thank you so much for letting me hear about it from Anakin instead. It was truly a pleasure.”

He winced at that, because Obi-Wan had clearly never intended on the news getting around. However, he really needed to reconsider who he confided in if that were the case.

“Satine, he’s my opponent in the competition- the same competition where we’ve established subterfuge against me.”

“Oh please, we both know Quinlan isn’t involved in any of that. You were defending him just a couple weeks ago!”

“Nothing is off the table!” His voice cracked at the end, which sadly took some of the heat out of his argument.

“Some things are .” She returned with equal fire.

“I know you’re upset with me, but that doesn’t mean you need to go off isolating yourself. Cody almost failed transfiguration.”

Oh God, not that again. Cody sighed, not even bothering to step a toe forward this time. Really, they needed to get it out of their system before this only burned deeper. Did he really ever wish for them to start fighting again?

“Upset? What’s there to be upset about? Nothing’s changed. You have certainly seen to that.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.” He said sadly, but it fell flat as the two of them stared at each other in heated stand-off for a moment longer before moving away from each other. “We’re friends, right?”

“Of course,” Though Satine purposely didn’t meet his eyes.

“Okay,” He said, looking a little helpless as he stood and faced her, searching for any shred of a sign that they’d really be okay.

“If you want the left route so terribly,” Satine said after a long pause, “You can have it.”

“And then what?” Obi-Wan asked, looking more lost than he’d ever had.

She shrugged, “Then, I’ll see you both Saturday. Don’t be dolts. Remember to bring your dates corsages.”

Cody and Obi-Wan watched as she walked away and Cody waited until she got out of earshot to ask, “This might not be the right time, but what’s a corsage?”

The day of the Yule Ball perfectly encapsulated any typical excitement that surrounded the holiday season, coupled with a fresh sense of anticipation for the elegant extravaganza that was promised to them, which made for a very enthusiastic batch of upperclassmen students. All around her, in Gryffindor’s common room, Padmé could feel the palpable joy that radiated off each girl as they went to work at applying makeup, twisting and twirling hair, and making any last minute modifications to their grand ball gowns.

Since all obligations or meetings were promptly cancelled for both the event and the holiday, and no one had classes or homework to worry them for the time being, the girls essentially woke up and began getting ready. Each seemed keen on helping the other, especially the seventh years, who held a stronger weight of responsibility for how this ball went.

Not only that, but Gryffindor currently housed the leading Champion of the tournament, which meant that expectations would be high for a promising outcome. All throughout the dormitory, girls raced and weaved amongst one another, bearing ribbons, haircare products, and makeup.

For some, it was their first time venturing into the world of grand fashion, which was all the more exciting for Padmé’s friends, who’d devoted their entire lives to this sort of thing. Being so close with a royal heir, they’d developed a certain knack for it over the years. In fact, should Padmé ever rise to the ranks of Queen, she intended on bringing her battalion of fair maidens along with her.

There was Yané, obviously, who actually sewed and designed dresses in her spare time and lived for creating new and extravagant patterns that best suited whoever deigned to wear them. She was presently helping a fellow fourth year girl with a shaw that would drape elegantly around her shoulders. Padmé had seen Yané do wonderful things, but never quite so fast or exuberantly. She suspected this might have something to do with the glances she kept making at Saché, who was equally as bright and happy to help those around her.

Saché, being the youngest of their crew, had always been a bit of the gopher in the sense that she could do many things very quickly at the drop of a hat. Currently, she was fetching pins and thread and dabbing moist faces for anyone that needed it. She worked best in an environment that anyone else would be completely overwhelmed by. She, too, still managed moments of revel at her own date.

Rabé, despite being in Slytherin house, still came over early to help Gryffindor. Padmé wondered how her housemates felt about that, but her friend hadn’t seemed concerned. Though not initially as keen on the idea as she’d become, she handled makeup for girls who had never used it before. Padmé, herself, wouldn’t have been as experienced with the stuff, if she hadn’t essentially been taught from birth to preserve a certain formal image. She didn’t have to do that at Hogwarts, of course, but during her summers, she’d spent a decent amount of time with various palettes and brushes.

Eirtaé, along with Yané, assisted in the clothing department, often alongside her, but was more focused on efficiency and necessary alterations. Unlike Yané, who always felt that utilizing magic to perform such a feat would lessen the richness of its desired effect, Eirtaé whipped her wand around like it was nobody’s business.

Padmé, after years of practicing on herself, knew a thing or two what to do with hair. This inadvertently made her the default expert on the subject, especially since her friends allowed her to practice on them daily. This, of course, afforded her the opportunity to focus on different textures and types of hair.

And then, naturally, there was Sabé, who was arguably Padmé’s best friend in life. Often having received the impression of being her “shadow”, Sabé was family and possessed all of these talents and then some. She always claimed to be the queen of second best, and even said as much without a drop of malice. It was an accepted place in life that Padmé disagreed with on principle and in general.

Sabé, was, without a doubt, the best support a person could have. Though she didn’t see it as a true talent, Padmé watched with vested interest as she calmly spoke to Teckla, who was quite nervous about impressing her date.

“First of all,” Sabé spoke with that firm confidence that most had to strive for, “You look absolutely beautiful. If Typho isn’t impressed, then I can only assume that his other eye is also going bad.”

Padmé snorted. It was a little mean, yes, but Gregar Typho’s missing eye due to an ill-fated attempt at changing his eye color in their first year, had become a bit of an ongoing joke amongst everyone, especially Typho.

“And secondly,” Sabé continued just as strongly when she noticed a small smile had broken way across Teckla’s face, “This isn’t about him. This is about you. Tonight is a party, that’s all. Yeah, everyone is dressed to the nines, but that’s the only difference. That, and it might be a little crowded in there.”

Teckla frowned, “But what if I trip while dancing or choke on a jalapeno puff or-”

“-And what if a meteor comes crashing down and obliterates us all?” Sabé sighed, “You can’t harp on the what if’s. You have to focus on your main objective.”

The fair skinned girl thought about that for a moment, her green eyes suddenly thoughtful as she pondered this.

Sabé, thankfully, put her out of her misery and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, bringing her attention back to Sabé’s stern face, “Your objective is to have fun , Teckla.”

“Oh!” She laughed a bit nervously, “Right.”

“And if you don’t,” Sabé added wryly, “We will see that you do. Rabé is quite the dancer.”

“No, I’m not!” Rabé barked.

“Fenn Rau thinks that you are!” Saché teased mischievously, a bobby pin in between her teeth as she said it.

“And if he tries anything, he’s going to lose a hand,” Rabé added without breaking contact from where she lightly dusted blush on Peppi Bow’s already pink face.

Eirtaé laughed, “As if you have any room to talk, Sabé! You’re the one with a boyfriend .”

Many of the other girls in the room, despite their claims of higher maturity than the corresponding boys of their age, couldn’t help but divulge into various ooooh’s to make Sabé’s ears go bright red. Even Teckla had jumped in on the bandwagon, much to Sabé’s obvious feeling of betrayal.

She scowled, “And why is that so scandalous when all of you have dates too?”

“I’m going with Fenn Rau as a friend,” Shrugged Rabé, “And Eirtaé is going with Hogan Tinmar, but I don’t think any of us actually believe he is… Er… Interested .”

They all had to concede on that front, but when or if Hogan came to such a revelation, they would all be equally supportive. He was a nice guy and Eirtaé would surely have a fun time with him regardless.

“Okay, well, Yané and Saché are girlfriends and no one’s teasing them.” Sabé pointed out.

“Well, they’re cute and soft,” Explained Eirtaé, “And you’re like a little jagged rock that we are all surprised has the mushy kind of feelings.”

“I do not have mushy feelings,” Sabé retorted.

“They looked pretty mushy to me when Tonra asked you with that little cake,” Padmé added carefully, “But rest assured, the teasing comes from a place of love.”

“Rest assured, I am feeling the love,'' muttered Sabé with crossed arms and then looked crossly at Padmé, “You know, you could have had a date too. Rush Clovis asked you and you turned him down!”

A few girls in the room gasped and Padmé glared at Sabé, who suddenly flushed apologetically at revealing that fact to many who didn’t know of such a thing. It would get out eventually, she figured, but that didn’t mean Padmé wanted to be gossipped about all night. Luckily, she was fairly certain there were bigger stakes of gossip for the harpies to grasp at.

“I didn’t want a date,” She said pointedly, “I just want to hang out with my friends.”

“Well, you’re lucky Skywalker is banned from asking anyone.” Rabé said tactly.

“You think so? I figured after last year, he’d call it quits.” Eirtaé offered, but nodded at Padmé, “You did keep the necklace though.”

“He’s my friend,” She insisted, though she did spare a glance to the jewelry box that was locked within the trunk in front of her bed. Inside of it, Anakin’s handmade trinket would be found. She was quite touched by the gesture and maybe, if she didn’t believe accepting an offer would lead him on, she would have accepted his hand to the ball, had he been able to ask.

“He’s our waiter too, apparently,” Sabé said as she moved over to help Padmé with her own dress. Just because they were helping everyone else, didn’t mean they couldn’t multi-task. “The champion of our house is going to be serving us horderves on a silver platter.”

“Something tells me if it’s Anakin, there’s going to be a catch,” Padmé couldn’t help but smile, “Can you zip me up?”

For the first time all day, she regarded herself in the mirror, a buoyant sense of pride and thrill bubbling inside of her. Like her other friends, she’d had hers designed and made by the joint efforts of Yané and Eirtaé. She’d paid them for their efforts of course, as well as for the efforts of the other girls’ dresses, but felt in that moment that she hadn’t paid enough. She’d worn many gowns over the years. In fact, Padmé remembered skirts and gowns before ever wearing pants or shorts. It was like a second set of skin, it was so comfortable.

And this dress, with its smooth and sheer quality, and the elegant swirling white pattern at the bottom that emulated snow, with a chic halter at the top, made her look like a princess.

She wasn’t the type to be full of herself, but with hair curled and half up and half down, clasped with a small bough of holly in favor of the holiday, and a face full of defining makeup and glitter, she was a princess.

“Well, he’s most certainly going to be sorry you said no,” Sabé murmured quietly as she joined Padmé in looking at the large mirror before them.

“Tonight is about fun, just like you said,” She smiled, “Though I do wonder how the boys are making out.”

“Please, boys don’t lose their minds over stuff like this.” Sabé chuckled. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“HOW THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU WORK THIS THING?” Caleb Dume floundered, rolling around the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory floor as he quite literally wrestled with the bowtie around his neck.

None of the other boys exactly leapt at the opportunity to help Dume. Partly because it was funny to see the sixth year boy squirm and wiggle while trying to think of a charm to get the tie just right… But mostly because no one present exactly had a good answer or solution to offer him. It was much easier to just watch and laugh while pretending to know what they were doing with their own suits.

Besides, it wasn’t like anyone else was doing much better. For a group of blokes that had to wear ties every day, they were all hopeless when it came to dress robes.

“Fives, get out of my vest!” Echo complained over the loud raucous that was already erupting from the dormitory. Hell, the girls had to be faring better than them and likely laughing at the sound that was coming from the boys’ side.

“This isn’t your vest, it’s my vest!” Fives insisted. “Ann and I are wearing red.”

“You’re not going with Ann!” Growled Echo, “You’re going with Tann! I’m going with Ann!”

“Oh no you’re not! You’re going with Tann,” Fives pointed to the peach vest that was discarded on a nearby bunk. “You two are wearing orange.”

“No, you were there when we talked about this!” Echo huffed, ready to go on a long-winded explanation as to why he was assigned to Ann Gella and Fives was to go with Tann Gella, “You asked Tann and I asked Ann.”

“No, I asked Ann. ”

“Boys, boys, boys, please shut the hell up.” Cody could only take so much of this madness, as it didn’t help that not only did the twin Twi’Leks look exactly the same save for a slight variation in lekku length (one that Hera had to point out for him to notice), but their names and personalities were very similar either. So much so, that he was starting to get a headache.

Did his twin brothers have to pick the other set of identical twins to take as their respective dates to the ball? And why didn’t they just save themselves the trouble by getting the same color suits? Maybe the girls wanted to be differentiated from each other, but Fives and Echo had been stuck matching for most of their lives and didn’t seem to mind.

“Not until Fives admits that I asked Ann and he asked Tann!”

“What’s the difference?” Cody asked, “They both look the same!”

“You’re joking, right?” Fives snorted, “Why, they couldn’t be any more different! Ann likes sports and plays pranks and Tann is an artist and a dancer.”

“I mean, neither sounds like a particularly bad option,” Cody pointed out.

“No, not at all, but it’s the principle of the thing!” Echo said. “I asked Ann first and then Fives thought it was a good idea to task Tann!”

“You’re lying through your teeth, you ugly bastard!”

“We share the same face, you arse!”

“Okay, okay !” Cody pinched his nose, “There’s only one fair way to solve this as far as I’m concerned.”

“Cody, this better not have anything to do with Quidditch.” Echo sighed.

“Nonsense, there’s not enough time for a match.” Cody waved him off, “But we are going to flip a sickle.”

“You can’t decide who our date to the Yule Ball is going to be with a coin!” Fives objected.

“And why not? Afraid you can’t cheat that too?” Echo crossed his arms, “I call heads.”

“Fine,” Huffed Fives, “Tails.”

“Not like you had another option there, mate,” Cody snorted, “Heads, Echo takes Ann, and tails, Fives takes Ann.”

So, he flipped the coin into the air, watching it turn rapidly several times before snatching it mid-air and slapping it on the back of his other hand.

“Tails!” He announced, much to Echo’s chagrin and Fives’ excitement.

“Told ya!” Fives said gleefully as he finished buttoning up the vest he’d already gone to the trouble of putting on. Echo, while irritated, still went through with grabbing the peach vest off the bed and the corresponding bowtie.

“You’ll have fun either way,” Cody said.

“Guys, really! I can’t breathe!” Caleb gasped and finally Ackbar took mercy on him and waved his wand to free him from the confines of his tie.

“Word of advice, don’t use a spell to tie your tie, unless you intend on it being permanent,” Ackbar said sagely. Nobody really wanted any elaboration on how he figured such a dark thing out, so they moved on.

“Just get a clip on like the rest of us hopeless idiots,” Jan Dodonna smirked as he helped Caleb back up to his feet.

“You couldn’t catch me dead in a clip on,” Frowned Rush Clovis, who after some struggles of his own to get his hair tamed, was faring better than most.

“Not all of us are bonafide royalty,” Fives threw back, referring to Clovis being somewhere in the wayside in relation to the royal family.

“Class is not hereditary, boys,” He scoffed.

The issue with the boys was that they’d naturally all waited until the very last minute to get ready. In theory, it should have been simple. They put on pants and button-up shirts every single day of their lives. An extensive line for the shower and a fight for any and all mirror space, coupled with some rather unfortunate blemishes and hair scenarios had sent them all into a frenzy. And all of it was basically centered around the very real fear that their dates were going to kill them.

“Wait, I thought Zam told you she was wearing lavender.” Echo said as he cuffed his own sleeves.

“She did,” Cody grimaced as he pulled out his very blue vest from the wrapping. While he most likely would have been able to shrug it off if it were another shade of purple, it was very clear that he would not be matching his date this evening. Cody didn’t know much in the ways of dating or dances, but he did know that wearing a blatantly different color would likely draw the wrong statement.

“What the bloody hell happened, then?” Echo asked.

He paused and thought back to that fateful day when they’d all gone shopping for their dress robes. After the Kenobi’s had stormed in and effectively ruined the spirit of the day, Cody had been left to his own devices in terms of picking out his suit. It wasn’t exactly top of his list in things to do, especially alone, so when Jar Jar asked if he simply wanted it shipped to him, Cody happily agreed.

That, of course, had been his mistake.

“I told that blasted Gungan that it had to be purple!” He said.

“Lavender.” Corrected Hogan Tinman, who was really the only boy of the bunch with any sense of how to prepare for an elegant ball. Because of this, the other rampant barn animals were practically clawing at him for help.

“Same thing,” Cody waved off, “Blast, she’s not going to be happy about this.”

“You shouldn’t be happy about it either,” Rush Clovis, who’d just finished getting ready after hogging the wash room for over an hour, “You look like a bloody Ravenclaw.”

“I doubt that’s an accident,” Saw sneered as he straightened his own tie.

“You got something to say to me, mate?” Cody asked. He was already pissed off enough that he was going to look like the odd man out, so he really didn’t have the stomach to take anymore of Saw or any other daft Gryffindor’s nonsense.

“No, by all means, Fett, go forth and prosper with your wannabe Ravenclaw self.” He snorted, shaking his head in disgust, “While the rest of us go out and represent our true champion.”

“I bleed red just like the rest of us,” Which would have been a more poignant statement if all blood wasn’t red, but he continued on, “So take that bullshit and shove it back up your arse, mate.”

“I’m not your mate,” Saw said, “Any friend of mine would show up and support their house instead of tending to the losing side’s wounds.”

“I’m not the only one with friends in Ravenclaw,” He laughed bitterly, “And if I was such a traitor, why did Kenobi lose the first task, huh? I’ve never spewed secrets before and I won’t start now.”

“And how do we know you aren’t all talk?” Saw fired.

“Anakin doesn’t see Cody as a cheat and neither should you,” Rex stepped in, which to Cody felt a bit like a head rush, having his youngest brother take up his defense. He couldn’t tell if he was proud or not at the timing of it. “Speaking of which, where the hell is Anakin?”

“I’ve got to be missing something obvious here,” Anakin’s face was stony as he stared at the blank parchment laid out on the desk in front of him, “We already tried to see if it was glow in the dark or revealed itself under a black light, although we couldn’t get our hands on a real one unfortunately...” He trailed off. His eyes were starting to burn from staring at the thing so long.

“Does this have to be done now, Anakin?” Professor Palpatine was already dressed in a very lowkey set of dress robes and a heavy wool cloak that faded from black to green at the very bottom. He was also giving an appraising look at the blank parchment, but had seemed a tad more irritated than usual. Anakin had to guess it was because the old man wouldn’t be able to go to sleep as early as he usually did, “You should go and enjoy the ball! I’m sure you’ll figure this out in no time.”

“That’s just it professor,” Anakin sighed, “I don’t want to be the last one to figure it out. I have to figure it out by the ball, that way if anyone asks me I can tell them I’ve done it!”

“I see,” the Slytherin sighed and knitted his fingers together, “Well what is it we could possibly be missing here? I already tried a spell as you suggested.” That was true and had thrown Anakin through an awful loop. He was sure that it must be some sort of revealing spell.

“It’s like a riddle,” Anakin set his head down on the desk just centimeters away from it, “And I’ve never been very good at those.”

“Riddles just take a little bit of flexibility from the mind,” Palpatine smiled, “Some are born with such a skill, but we can always develop them within ourselves,” He raised his wand and flicked it, Anakin’s bowtie adjusted itself to sit straighter. He was lucky he had the foresight to get dressed before coming here, it seemed like he may have to head straight to the ball.

Anakin sighed deeply before his eyebrows furrowed and he raised his head, “Did you spill a potion in here?”

“No,” Palpatine shook his head, “Any potions that may have been spilled have certainly been cleaned up immediately. Why do you ask, my boy?”

Anakin sniffed the air, nothing. Before in a flurry of motion he yanked the parchment off the desk and gave it a whiff. It was a light scent and a little tangy, but he recognized it quickly.

“Lemons...” He stared at the sheet for a moment more before a lightbulb went off in his head and he was on his feet, “Lemons!” He slammed the parchment back on the table, “Professor I need a lemon right now!”

“A… lemon,” Palpatine looked much too concerned as he warily stood across from him.

“Trust me! I saw this once in a movie!” Anakin ignored the look his professor was surely giving him, but Palpatine simply waved his wand and a jar with a dead newt in it was transfigured and set before him. He eagerly dumped out the lemon and didn’t wait for a knife. He raised his wand and shouted, “Diffindo!”

Magic split the thing in two and also carved a large dent in Palpatine’s ancient desk. He’d definitely put too much power behind it. After shooting a quick apology that he really didn’t mean, he grabbed both halves of lemon and smeared them all over the paper. He didn’t step back until it was practically soaking.

Silence strung out as they both stared at the paper and waited. Anakin picked up the thing, but all it did was drip quietly on the floor. He frowned.

“It was a good try, Anakin,” Palpatine stepped around his desk to put a hand to Anakin’s shoulder.

“I don’t get it,” Anakin frowned, “I was sure that’s what they did, maybe I missed a step.”

“Or perhaps it’s something else,” He reasoned, using a simple cleaning spell to dry up most of the excess lemon juice, “I’m not sure muggle movies would really come into play in a wizards game, but everything is worth trying to achieve glory.”

“I dunno,” Anakin seemed suspicious, but tucked away the parchment into the inside pocket of his dress robes, “Why else would the parchment smell of lemons?”

“I’m sure there will be much more time to reflect on the possibilities,” Palpatine shooed him out with a wave and a glance at the clock, “We must get you to the Great Hall in time for the champions waltz, it wouldn’t be right without the winner of the first task.”

“Windu says it’s not about that sort of thing here,” Anakin shot a glance up at the professor and Palpatine shook his head with a knowing smile.

“Not outwardly,” He agreed, “But this is a tournament let’s not forget, every step you take this year is one that will hopefully place you on top in the end.”

“It’s a lot of politics,” Anakin hummed as they walked through the empty halls, “I hadn’t expected all that.”

“Everything is politics in the end,” Palpatine gave him a tired shrug, “When you’ve lived as long as I have, it’s hard not to pick up on it.”

“Well you’ve had a really long time to figure that stuff out I guess,” Anakin shrugged, “Hopefully your mind doesn’t go anytime soon or you’ll have to start over again.”

“I assure you Anakin,” Palpatine chuckled, “My mind is as sharp as always.”

“Not to brag, but this is one of those moments where I’m glad I don’t have hair,” Aayla Secura chirped as she checked herself out in the floor length mirror that rested against Stass’ bedpost. It was beyond factual that the girl looked lovely, as every passing Ravenclaw did as they provided the final touches on their Yule Ball outfits.

Aayla had gone for a light blue, form-fitting, strapless gown that seemed to shimmer when the light caught it properly. She’d gone for a more traditionalist headpiece to make up for her aforementioned lack of hair that gently wrapped around the length of her lekku like a silver waterfall. Her makeup had been more accented with deep shades of brown, so as to better emphasize her sharp cheekbones. Completing the look, was a milky pearl clasped at the center of her chest.

The beauty of her friend almost seemed effortless.

However, to say that hair styling had been a struggle for most of the girls would be an understatement. For being some of the smartest witches in the school, they could be daft sometimes. Crinus Muto was a useful spell, yes, but it required a lot of focus to get the exact style desired.

It hadn’t helped that most of the girls hadn’t known exactly what they’d wanted.

Satine had done her hair the normal way, as she’d done for most of her life save for the days where she truly didn’t have the time. She did assist the other girls in maintaining their hair, of course, and advised others maybe not to choose tonight to try any experimental hair colors.

Especially those like Bultar Swan, who was going through a rather rough breakup from Roth-Del Masona, who was with Beauxbatons and opted to go with someone from his own school. Bultar wasn’t going dateless thanks to Joclad Danva, a sixth year Slytherin, nor was she the sort to really sit around and cry about her worries, but everyone knew that being emotionally charged like this was breeding grounds for dramatic style choices.

For example, the girl had pondered shaving her head and dying it orange. Satine suggested she sleep on it instead. While hair growth and stylings were not as permanent in the wizarding world, the pictures and memories from this event very well will be.

“It is something less to have to think about,” Stass chimed in as she smoothed out the fabric of her own dress. Stass, of course, looked like a knockout too and although she’d downplayed her acceptance of Coleman Kcaj’s invitation, was taking extra care to ensure that her deep brown skin was flushed with exuberance and definition to bring out her mysterious violet eyes. In fact, her deep purple dress matched the very color of her eyes somehow, and was beautifully adorned with ruffles at the end. She looked like a true princess and the small tiara she wore in favor of her usual headband solidified this look.

“Yes, congratulations to you both,” Bultar grunted as Satine finished braiding her smooth black hair into a low bun at the nape of her neck.

“I’m not pulling your hair, am I?” Satine asked.

“No, you’re doing great, actually. My mother was never this gentle,” Bultar huffed out a laugh, “If I wasn’t feeling the pulls and the tugs, it wasn’t getting done.”

“Ah, I see,” Satine snorted at that, thinking back briefly to how negatively Bo-Katan responded whenever their mother did her hair. Though Satine knew from experience that their mother was quite careful not to catch the brush through any snags, Bo moved around with such defiance that it surely felt like torture. Satine, on the other hand, would have loved to have her mother here right now just to brush her hair.

And maybe provide some historically sage and helpful motherly advice.

“I’m not stopping you from getting ready, am I?” Bultar asked suddenly, flicking her dark eyes up to Satine.

Satine shook her head, “All I’ve got to do is throw my dress on and I’ll be all set.”

It was true. Satine had learned from experience that it was best to save the dress for last in terms of getting ready. She’d already maneuvered her hair into a low-twisted ballerina bun, which had been possible thanks to magic, since her hair was the shortest it had ever been. She’d return it back to its short length after the ball, but longer hair did make for more to work with.

“I like your new haircut.”

“Really?”

“It suits you.”

She stiffened, feeling every muscle in her body tighten for a minute, responding to the immediate influx of emotions that tried to give way. She hated the lump that started to rise in her throat on instinct and rejected it as much as she could manage.

Perhaps, she should leave it long.

She scowled. No, that was ridiculous. She liked her hair short, even if Bo-Katan had been the one to make such a call earlier in the year. She intended to follow her own interests even if they happened to align with someone else’s.

Presently, she hated that they did.

“Satine?” Stass’s face had fallen from the anticipatory smile that had clung to her face all day. She was watching her with quiet concern that upon second glance, matched Aayla’s and even Bultar’s. “Are you alright?”

Satine cleared her throat, “Of course. I just thought I forgot something, that's all.”

“As far as I can tell, it looks good,” Bultar said, observing her hair and how it was coming along. Thankfully, most of the other girls had already cleared out.

“Probably just homework,” Satine said lamely. “Transfiguration is quite challenging this year.”

Nobody bought it, but since there was no tangible proof that she had been lying, everyone left it alone. She was grateful for that, but knew she wouldn’t be able to dodge the explanation for long. The whole ordeal felt incredibly humiliating to Satine, who felt quite like the town fool to have her hopes publicly quashed. Stass and Aayla hadn’t told anyone, but word still got around fast, leading to an increase in those stupid “Team Ventress” shirts and more infuriatingly, sympathetic looks from people she hardly knew!

Not to mention the very personal apologies from those that she did. She’d hardly seen Cody and as much as she loved the boy, did not want the reminder that there had been change afoot.

She knew eventually, they’d have to develop a different dynamic, but she wasn’t quite ready to face that at the moment. Maybe tonight, in the swell of tradition and jubilation, she’d find the courage to do just that.

In fact, she was resolved to do such a thing.

She wasn’t a hapless widow to be pitied. After all, nothing, in the grand scheme of things, had changed from an external point of view. Satine hadn’t gotten what she wanted, but that didn’t always happen and that was life. She still had her friends, her health, her education, and just about every other tangible thing in her life.

Hell, she still had him as a friend, even if she didn’t know quite how to be that at the moment. A part of her, perhaps the foolish part, still wanted to be. She still wanted him to be safe, still wanted him to be happy, but also needed to look out for her own wants and needs.

Most importantly, she had herself. And while it was the determination to be hopeful that replaced the actual hope and anticipation that had once been there, it felt tangible, and it felt powerful. She might not feel exactly the same as she had before, but she would feel good again. She will feel good tonight . At least for a little while.

Tonight would be the beginning of a new Satine and of a new outlook on life. Maybe she was just riding from the high of being dressed up and beautiful. It certainly gave her a confidence boost that she regrettably needed at the moment. She hadn’t even put the dress on yet, instead being wrapped in a soft pink robe, and just catching glimpses of her hair and face was enough to increase her spirits.

She looked older somehow, than she did even days before, because in a way, she was.

“Satine,” Muttered Bultar, reaching a tentative hand up to touch her head, “You’re pulling.”

Looking forward back at the mirror in front of them to see the poor girl biting her lip from crying out in pain, Satine immediately relented.

“Oh I am so sorry!” She winced, undoing the last bits and redoing them much gentler and less tight. She didn’t want Bultar to be walking around with a migraine all night.

No, she would not be thinking about the moment Obi-Wan had come into her room with a migraine. No, that would not be happening. Otherwise, Bultar might go bald.

At this rate, it would be Satine with the migraine.

“You’re all finished anyway,” She said after hastily pinning up the last strands, “And you look lovely.”

“Thank you,” She smiled, patting her head a little bit to test the durability and hold of the updo. For good measure, Satine performed a strengthening bond on her hair to ensure it would remain fit for a night full of dancing. “Much better than an orange shaved head. I reckon I would have looked like a pumpkin head.”

Satine laughed, “Yes, well, maybe next Halloween.”

“I think not,” Bultar chuckled, “The Ministry wouldn’t go for that.”

“I didn’t know you were going to work for the Ministry of Magic,” Satine commented.

“Oh, actually, I’ll be moving to France to work at their Ministry,” When she received a look from Stass and Aayla, she frowned, “I made this decision last year.”

“We didn’t say anything,” Aayla held up her hands in defense.

“Not every decision I make is fueled by breakup brain,” Bultar said and straightened her shoulders back, “I honestly don’t care if I ever see him ever again.”

“Well, if you do, you’ll be glad you aren’t walking around like a basketball,” Satine said.

That earned her a confused glance from all three girls and she sighed, “It’s a sport.”

“Can we get a move on now?” Aayla whined, opting to change the subject.

“Why? Excited to see if Koth traded in a jersey for dress robes?” Satine retorted.

“Please, if Cody Fett can find dress robes, then anyone can.”

That was absolutely a fair point and though Satine hadn’t been around to see what Cody’s final verdict on picking out a set was, she figured he had to land on something. He did ask her earlier how one can make a corsage, to which she reminded him that he could, in fact, use magic.

“Besides, Bultar isn’t the only one who needs to sweep some idiot boy off his feet to show him what he’s missing.” Aayla added on, watching Satine through a carefully masked gaze.

Satine knew it wasn’t meant to be the kind of comment that left a sting, but seeing as she was very close to defending Obi-Wan for a second there, it did. She did her best not to let it show, not wanting her friend to feel guilty. Her heart was in the right place of course.

“It’s not the same,” She said with a shrug, “It’s not like we broke up or anything.”

You can’t break up what was never really there, after all.

This earned her another one of those infuriating sympathetic looks from her friends.

“Right, but it’s still okay if it hurts,” Aayla said sagely.

Satine knew this on principle. In fact, if either of her friends had been in a… Situation-ship… as she had been, she’d likely deliver the same mantra of advice. However, hearing that she was allowed to hurt made her want to do anything but that.

“I’m fine,” She said, “We’re going to go to this ball, we’re going to dance a load, eat a ton, and lose our voices. Boys be damned. Besides, I’ve got a date and a hot dress that I got solely for my own intents and purposes.”

A partial lie, seeing as there had been a tad of spite in the purchase, but she knew neither girl was going to object to this battle cry.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road then,” Stass said, “Get dressed, because we have pictures to take! And yours, I’m sure, will be the talk of the whole school.”

It was in the Kenobi spirit to be amongst the first ready for any formal occasion. Being on time, to his parents, was being late, unless they felt the event was beneath them. In which case, being late was an honor in and of itself, since they’d deigned to show up at all. Obi-Wan had never subscribed to that logic, always hating the concept of anyone waiting on him.

However, he’d be remiss to say that he wasn’t dragging his feet when getting ready for the Yule Ball. Expectedly, the Ravenclaw boys’ dormitory had been quite a burst of chaos in terms of scrambling around to figure out what corsages were or why bow ties had to be so complicated or why their parents sent them vintage and frilly dress robes.

It had been a nervous energy, but not without eagerness of their own merit.

Obi-Wan had been a little surprised his mother hadn’t opted for something so traditionalist. However, Kenobi formal wear was always sleek and modern, as it encapsulated most of their wardrobe. Because of this, as well as the obvious pressure that was representing Ravenclaw house, she sent him a sleek navy set so dark that it only showed blue in lighting.

As it were, he was the last left in Ravenclaw’s common room and this was to his own preference. He’d moved through the halls today with a robotic numbness that blocked out the growing dread in the pit of his stomach. If it weren’t such an important event, and namely one where he was supposed to be a centerpiece, he might have feigned ill after all and opted out of attending.

But he couldn’t hide within the confines of his four poster bed forever. One day, and one day increasingly soon, the drapes would be yanked open and he would be forced to face the morning day that had been cultivated for him. He’d be standing at the end of an aisle, watching with likely a similar self-preserving numbness, as the end of his freedom approached nearer and nearer.

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he combed his hair back so it was slicked as most of the men in his family wore it. Since he was alone, he could silently admit to hating the look, as it reminded him of his family, who he could not help but resent for all of this.

They didn’t care, of course. His mother spoke with the same resentment for her parents and likely the list went on, building a chain of acrimony that was tightening around Obi-Wan’s neck. His father was so inscrutable when he wasn’t angry, so it was hard to tell how he felt about how his life had turned out. He was certainly not afraid of admitting shame to having such a failure of a son.

And maybe Obi-Wan would have been okay with it all, if he’d remained trapped in the bubble set for him. However, he’d been sorted into Ravenclaw and plopped in an environment different to the one he was raised in. He made friends, who were brilliant and showed him glimpses of what life should be and how acceptance felt. He made his own name and accomplished his own feats, even if they would always go unacknowledged by his family.

He fell so hard and so strongly for a girl that now had every reason to hate him.

And he was losing her, at least romantically, so as to protect her. He had to remind himself that, just in case his own selfishness came to the brink and tried to move him in a direction that would only yield disaster.

He would do it for her.

He clenched his teeth as he looked at himself in the mirror, hating what he saw: a perfect rendition of all things Kenobi, save for the blue robe.

He couldn’t solely blame them, of course. He’d made his choices and though they cut deep like a knife, to watch his friends go on and enjoy life without him, to stand aside and fulfil expectations and destiny that he didn’t approve nor want, he stood by them. He was growing up, after all, he needed to stand by his own decisions and take whatever consequences came his way.

Even if it felt a bit like his chest was being hollowed out in the process.

“She’ll be happier without you anyway,” He said quietly.

After all, Satine would have the opportunity to thrive within the Ministry, safely, he might add, and get to pursue her dreams. She’d bridge the gap between muggles and wizards once and for all and would verbally assault anyone who stood in her way. She was resilient and beautiful and powerful and everything he wished he could be for her in return.

And Quinlan Vos, somehow, could be that person, as bitter as that felt.

What kind of person did that make Obi-Wan? To all but send her off with someone else and then to feel recoil when she went and found herself another option. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have options. He knew this last year, and thought back to how different things would have been if he’d been able to croak out his feelings to her.

Would they have made it through this turmoil? Or would he have been unable to refuse after having been so close to the sun?

He thought about Qui-Gon, and how disappointed he likely would have been with this outcome. However, the wise professor would have told him that thinking back on “what if’s” was nothing but a waste of time. Not if there wasn’t anything to glean from them or learn going forward. All Obi-Wan was doing was causing himself misery.

The only comfort was the idea that she would be happy one day, even if it ached him right now. As her friend, of which he hoped he would always be, that was all he could hope for her.

Or at least, that’s what he wanted to want.

Because he was still angry! He was still angry she found someone that fast and that it was Quinlan Vos. It felt like she wanted it to hurt him a bit, which he knew was probably fair, but didn’t aid the undercurrent of remorse.

Moreover, he was angry with himself for feeling this way.

It was insanely hypocritical and narcissistic and it made him feel ugly inside. So much so that he feared it would bleed outwards.

But he never could act on such anger. That wasn’t him. His parents and their friends encouraged the practice of utilizing fear and anger and turning it into power, but Obi-Wan never liked the feeling of lashing out. It was not his nature and it never would be.

He would move on from this. He just had to get through this night.

And from the inside, Obi-Wan would still find a way to make the world a better place, even if his couldn’t be.

For now, he needed to focus on what he could control. He’d survive this tournament, ensure Anakin did the same, and maybe figure out who was shoving their nose into the tasks.

It had to be a flaw that he was the one being sabotaged. He was no chosen one.

As he forced himself to look away from his own self pity, his eyes fell on the new watch his parents had sent him through the mail. It was everything decorative and impressive as expected. It felt foreign even in his hands, like it didn’t belong to him. Or maybe, it was because just like the family wand that he’d broken in the first task, he didn’t belong to it.

He stared so hard at the watch and raised his wrist to look at the one already neatly clasped, simple and perfect in just about every way. Tentatively, he undid the watch for the first time in almost two years (save for when he took it off for the first task), and held it in the palm of his other hand. Even during the Halloween party and every press junket, he’d kept it latched, even if tucked under his sleeves.

Though he’d already made his choice, this felt a bit like a final transformation in a sense. An end without sight. In his left hand, he held a beautiful gift, made with love and care that had scarcely graced his life prior. And in his right, he held expectation, requirement, duty.

He ran his thumb gently over the glass of the homemade watch, admiring the engraving on the inside of the band with his name on it. It was written in Satine’s hand, he could tell, and not just because he had a knack for deciphering such things. His eyes roved lovingly over the smooth swoops of her letters and how she wrote “Ben” as opposed to “Obi-Wan” like the watch his parents gave him.

In a way, it felt like he was holding the duality of Ben vs Obi-Wan. He was both, he knew that much logically, but one side was who he wanted to be, and the other was who he was expected to be. It was all very dramatic and he knew that any outside viewer would think he was absolutely insane. Nothing changed the reality that he was going to this dance with Ventress. He could not cling to fantasy or hopeful dreams any longer.

Though both were quite light, they felt heavy in his hands, so much so that he feared he might drop them. With an overwhelming sense of change rattling through his body, along with a taste of what had to be heartache, he put on the watch and took a deep breath before departing out the door to fetch his date, not looking back.

#obitine #anidala #Anakin Skywalker #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Satine Kryze #tcw #the clone wars #magical forces au #hpau #star wars

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anjuschiffer · 4 years ago

Text

Magical Date

I wasn’t going to write anything for Daminette December, and yet! Here I am! While thinking of a concept for Day 5, I then remembered that there were people who wanted a follow up for Spellbound, so I combined the two!

Enjoy!

For @daminette-december2019-2020‘s Day 5: Sweater

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

AO3 | Wattpad

Marinette stood by the Leyline Terminal, muttering to herself as she did a mental checklist.

ID? Check.

Purse? Check.

Phone? Check.

Sketchbook and pencils? Check.

Wand? Check.

Extra batteries? Check.

Hat?....

“How did I forget my hat?” Marinette whined, scanning her room for it but knew there was no use in looking for it when she couldn’t find it.

It was almost time to meet with Damian, so if she wanted to meet him in time, she’d just have to go without it.

Grabbing her purse, Marinette took off.

She yelled and apologized to friends she almost bumped into, ignoring their questions of ‘where are you heading?’ She slowed down and speed walked when she saw teachers and the headmistress, flashing an awkward smile as she waved at her.

Running past the campus’ quad, Marinette managed to get to the Leyline Terminal on time, wanting to collapse to the floor as soon as she got there.

“Worried you were going to be late for our date?” Damian teased.

“Well, I wouldn’t- Damian!” Marinette squeaked, feeling the tips of her ears glow with heat. “Ha-how long have you been-”

“Not long.” Damian replied, standing in front of her. “Are you ready to head out?” Grinning, Marinette nodded.

“Yup!”

She followed Damian, confused when he suddenly stopped. “What’s wrong?” She asked, peering over his shoulder, wondering why he was hesitant to walk into the empty-

Empty?

“The car that dropped me off...is gone.” Damian huffed, not believing that Dick actually meant what he said earlier. He really did mean it when he said that Damian should use his own efforts to make their outing a success.

“Gone? So, they-”

“Left? Yes.” Damian sighed, taking out his phone to text his father only for Marinette to place her hand over his. He looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“We can still get to the other side without your car.”

“How?” Damian asked, wondering how exactly did she think they would get to the other side of the magical barrier without-

He watched as she whipped out her wand, a broad smile across her face. “Right. Magic.”

“Make sure to not move around too much. We might fall and get lost in the Leyline if you do.” Marinette warned, looking at her wand and then at him. “Would you like to try casting the spell?”

Damian looked at the wand she was offering him and received it. “How does the spell go?”

Smiling, Marinette placed her hands over his, adjusting his posture before letting go.

“First, you have to close your eyes.” He did. “Now, repeat after me. Tia Freye!”

“Tia Freye!” Damian recited, opening his eyes when he felt himself being lifted off the floor, watching as a magic circle lifted them to the ceiling above them, watching as it bursted open, green speckles of stardust falling past them.

Awestruck, Damian watched as they made their way into the Leyline, not being able to take his eyes off the minty scenery around them.

“Do you have a place of mind? Or would you like to go to the default station in England?”

Damian looked at Marinette, her hair- were in a pair of twin braids...it suited her just like her pigtails.

“The Leyline can take us anywhere?” Damian asked. She nodded. “Anywhere? Even if I haven’t been there in a while?” Marinette nodded again.

“You just have to concentrate on the place in mind while we exit the Leyline. With the place in mind, the Leyline will lead you to the closest terminal in that country.”

“I see.” Damian said, concentrating on the place he had in mind. “Hope you don’t mind some cave exploring.”

They ended up in New Zealand, Marinette taken back by the time difference. It was already late at night, but that didn’t deter Damian from taking her out as he had promised her.

After a few minutes, Damian had managed to buy some food and a blanket before guiding Marinette to their next destination...which happened to be at the other side of a dark forest.

“Trust me,” was all Damian said once they stepped foot, Marinette following him,

Marinette could feel herself shiver as the two wandered through the dark greenery, Marinette having to double check each step she took, envying Damian.

Aside from having a cozy sweater to keep him warm, he walked through the forest with such confidence, he didn’t have to look where to step. He just walked.

“Damian, where exactly are we?”

“If I tell you know, it will ruin the surprise.” He blatantly said. “Be careful around here. There are some rather steep-“

Just as he said that, he jinxed her.

Marinette let out a yelp as she was about to fall to the lower level of the hill when Damian grabbed her just in time.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He lifted her up, glad to see no visible injuries. “Are you alright?”

“If anything, just shocked.”

“I should’ve been guiding you more properly than just telling you to follow me.” Damian offered his hand, Marinette taking it. “If only we had more-“

“Light!” Marinette exclaimed, causing Damian to jump a bit. “We can use my wand to-“

“I thought using magic outside of Luna Nova was against the rules.” Damian watched as Marinette nervously laughed, putting back her wand into her purse.

“Well, using our wands outside of campus is against the rules. They never said anything about communicating with the sprites already there.”

Damian watched Marinette grin as she crouched to the ground.

“What are you-“

Marinette held a finger to her lips before she began to sing.

As she continued to sing, Damian became mesmerized by the glowing bud that sprouted out from the ground, opening up to show a tiny forest sprite that hummed in sync with Marinette’s lovely singing.

When the sprite stopped humming, so did Marinette.

“Hello. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I was wondering if you would be so generous as to help light up the forest a bit while we get to our destination. Of course, I would reward you with these.”

Damian watched as the tiny forest sprite eagerly twirled around when Marinette showed it some crystal daisies in her hands.

The sprite eagerly accepted the gift, giving Marinette a smile before disappearing and reappearing with more of its kind. “Thank you very much!” Marinette dropped some more crystal flowers for the sprites before getting up and joining Damian’s side.

“How-“

“I learned how to speak and invoke sprites when I was three. My grandmother taught me during her summer stays. It’s the only form of magic that came naturally to me.”

Damian hummed. “So, shall we continue our exploration?”

At those words, Damian nodded, once more offering his hand to her, which she accepted.

With the help of the forest sprites, Damian was finally able to reach the cave entrance he had been wanting to show Marinette.

“Marinette, do they only like those crystal flowers you gave them?” Damian asked as he turned to see the second to last sprite disappear.

“Hmmm. They like the crystal daisies because it’s actually crystallized mana that they can consume. Once consumed, the mana allows them to produce more of their magic. However, they do like gemstones as well. It’s like some type of currency within the sprite world.”

Marinette watched Damian hum, retrieving something in his pocket and crouched to the last forest spirit’s level.

She watched with wide eyes as he handed a ruby to the spirit, who also gasped at the gift.

“Thank you for your help. We really appreciate it.”

Damian watched as the spirit hugged his hand before disappearing, a smile on their face as it snuggled closely to the newly acquired gem.

“That was kind of you.” Marinette said with a smile, giving Damian’s hand a squeeze.

“It was the correct thing to do.” Damian said, gesturing to Marinette to follow him.

The two kept walking into the dark cave when Marinette began to see tiny glowing blue lights start to appear more and more above them.

Soon, they found themselves surrounded by these sparkling blue stars, Marinette taken away by the scenery. It was like looking at a clear starry night.

As they kept going further into the cave, Marinette didn’t realize Damian had casted another “tia freye” causing the two to drift through the rest of the cave.

Marinette stretches out her hand to try and reach for them, but she was pleased to know she couldn’t.

“It’s beautiful.” She found herself softly whispering.

“And so are you.” Damian replies, Marinette thanking the tiny stars that their light was dim enough to hide her blush.

But even though her blush was hidden, she knew her feelings were still there for him to see.

“To think something this beautiful is being hidden from the world.”

“My mother brought me here once. When I was very young.” Damian told her. “Waitomo Caves. Home to the bioluminescent creature, Arachnocampa Luminosa.”

“Bioluminescent glow worms.” Marinette said back, watching as they were nearing the end of the cave.

“But that’s not why I brought you here.” Damian confessed, Marinette wondering what exactly could best the fantasy world they were just in. “Close your eyes.”

She did.

She felt as the two were now on dry land, or rather, grass.

She felt as a nice breeze blew across her face, her body trembling. She guessed Damian must have seen it as she felt him drape something over her, his scent on the sweater causing her to blush.

“Are we almost there?”

“Almost.” Damian told her, Marinette continuing to follow him.

She felt as he let go of her hand and walked around her, Marinette hearing what seemed to be rocks moving and a curse here and there, causing her to giggle.

When he slipped his hand back into hers, Marinette followed his lead. “Open your eyes.”

Marinette felt out of breath when she opened them, wishing to forever remain in that ethereal moment. For time to stop so that she could take in the beauty that was in front of her.

“Mon Dieu. It’s gorgeous.” Marinette, taking slow steps as she kept adoring the night sky above them. “I never thought I would ever be able to see the Milky Way in anything other than a textbook, tapestries or the holographic form we use in astronomy class.

They look so- oh! Damian! Look over there! That’s Crux!” Marinette squealed, taking out her phone and taking a picture of it. She then took out her sketchbook and quickly began to draw it, a few notes being taken at the side.

“Crux?” Damian asked, taking a seat on the makeshift picnic area he made for the two of them. He watched as Marinette kept staring at the stars above them, the Milky Way perfectly reflected against her bluebell eyes.

“Crux, often called the Southern Cross. Because Crux hasn’t been able to go over the horizon since 400 BC, northern countries like England, aren’t able to see it anymore.” Marinette pulled Damian’s sweater closer to her body. “To think I’m seeing it for the first time like this…” She turned to Damian, a shooting star passing behind her. “Thank you.

Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Seems like we’re here.” Marinette said, Damian picking up on the tint of sadness underlaid in her words.

By the time Damian and Marinette got back to Luna Nova, it had become evening, 17:00 to be exact.

During their flight back, Damian watched as Marinette longed to remain under those stars, staring at the sky above them the entire trip, as if hoping it would’ve followed her back.

Waitomo Caves and the scenery of the Milky Way on that mountain could never be replicated here at Luna Nova. Even if it was recently rejuvenated with the plethora of magic, no magic could do nature’s lovely masterpieces’ true justice.

“You seem...down.” Damian obviously pointed out, not expecting Marinette to laugh at his observation.

“I guess...I kinda wished we could’ve stayed there for a bit longer.” Marinette confessed, playing with the ends of her braids, only then realizing she still had on his sweater.

She completely forgot she had it on thanks to how soft it was despite being a bit big and long it was on her. “Oh! Here! Thank you for lend-”

“Keep it.” Damian said, stopping her from taking it off, gently holding her wrist in his hand.

“But-”

“Keep it.”

“Damian, it’s y-”

“I could simply buy another one just like it.” Damian fought back, watching Marinette pout, causing him to chuckle. “Keep it. I don’t mind you being its new owner.”

He watched as Marinette huffed in defeat, pulling the sweater closer to her small frame.

Would she look just as good in anything that was his?

“I know I said this before, but thank you,” Marinette said, placing her hand on his shoulder, using it to lift herself off the ground to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “For everything.”

Damian remained still as he watched her wave goodbye, walking into the dorm that was her home at Luna Nova.

Covering the smile that arose to his face, Damian could feel the glee swelling inside him as he made his way back home.

Marinette couldn’t believe it. She actually kissed him! Sure, it was on the check, but it was still something.

Not being able to contain it any longer, she let out a squeal, now dancing towards her room.

With a hum, Marinette opened up her room and slipped inside, letting out a giggle as she pulled Damian’s sweater close to her face.

“Seems like someone’s date was a success.” A voice spoke, causing Marinette to yelp, feeling her entire face burn in embarrassment.

Turning to her left, oh how she wanted to transform into a mouse to escape the hunter in front of her. Sadly, she used up all her extra batteries on the date.

“A-Alya. Shouldn’t you be-”

“-in detention? Well, let’s just say the added detention is going to be sooo worth it. So come on! Tell me! How’d your date go? And don’t tell me it wasn’t one when he clearly gave you that bracelet on your wrist. We’ve been living together for quite a while -even go shopping with you- and I’ve never seen that bracelet until now.”

Marinette snapped her attention to the newly acquired bracelet, a double black leather bracelet with a single ladybug at its center.

When did he slip it onto her? “So? Spill!”

“Well,” Marinette started. “It was magical!”

#maribat #daminette #Daminette December 2020 #anju writes

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years ago

Text

i love you, say it back

wordcount: 1.8k

warning: you might gag it’s pretty fucking cute also there’s cursing there is always cursing

_____

“Hey, Soph.” Rafe tried snapping her out of her thoughts as she mumbled to herself, trying to calculate her midterm grades. Sophie had been chewing on her lip for the past ten minutes, anxious about if she could pull off an A in two of her classes or if she could manage a B+ on her global history midterm. “Hm?” She mumbled, keeping her eyes tracked on her calculation in her notebook.

“You’re stressing me out.” He nudged her foot under the table, trying to get her to look up. They were alone in her architecture lab, late at night, and Rafe was mainly keeping her company, just doing some homework while she was working on a model. It was a typical spot for them on Thursday nights, if he wasn’t able to convince her to go out instead.

“Oh I’m sorry, you’re free to leave then.” She replied, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Soph.” He tried catching her attention again, looking at her with a fond smile.

She glanced up with an apologetic look. “Sorry, didn’t mean it.”

“I know. Hey, let’s take a break, we’ve been here for five hours. What are you working on now?” Rafe came around and stood behind her, pulling her shoulders back to rub them.

She resisted for a second then let her head fall back, closing her eyes for a moment. “I’m figuring out my grades. I need at least an 84 on my global history midterm to pull it up, and I need a solid 87 on this model to keep my A in environmental studies, and an 88 on my other one to keep the A in programming, which is going to be fucking impossible, and -”

“You’ll be fine, baby, you’re a great student, you work hard. Take a break.” He urged, trying to tug her up out of her chair. She spun in the chair, looking up at him. “You don’t understand. I can’t, I still have at least 20 hours left on this one model.”

“You have a whole week -”

She scrunched up her nose in the familiar way she did when she was frustrated and Rafe had to resist grinning at her. He had made that mistake once, maybe twice, and she had just gotten pissed off that he wasn’t taking her seriously. “No, I have to get this portfolio perfect too. I’m applying to master’s programs next year and if I half-ass this project then it’ll show.”

He took her hands, tugging again to pull her up. “Soph, I love you, but you gotta stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Let’s take a break.”

I love you.

She froze and tuned out every single word after that, just blinking up at him.

“You what?”

“I said you need to stop putting -”

Sophie shook her head quickly. “No, before that. You said you loved me.”

Rafe raised his eyebrows, his arms going slack and he dropped her hands, exhaling slowly. “Oh. Did I?”

She spoke quickly, anxious, and grabbed one of his hands. “If you didn’t mean it that’s fine, I -”

“No!” He interrupted her and knelt down to her eye level in the chair. “I did! I do. I mean it.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, keeping eye contact and softened his voice a bit. “I love you.”

Sophie gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly nervous. “Really? Me?”

“Of course you.” He grabbed the chair beside her and pulled it to sit, then rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hand, growing tense again. “I wish it hadn’t just slipped out like that, but I’d been meaning to tell you.” He paused. “I’ve known for a while now, I think.”

She finally came to her senses and pulled him in with both hands on either side of his face, giving him a deep kiss. He finally relaxed and smiled against her lips. “I...you’re my favorite, you know?” She grinned.

He nodded and did his best to hold back his disappointment, his heart pounding in his ears and all he could think was she didn’t say it back. “Yeah. Better be.”

She kissed him again, long and slow, then pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against his. “I, um...I can’t...” Sophie trailed off, hoping he’d get the hint.

Rafe cocked his head. “Can’t what?”

She leaned away, biting her lip anxiously. “I can’t say it back. I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t - I don’t know -”

His face fell for a moment but he recovered quickly, forcing a short smile. “Hey, hey.” He interrupted, cutting her off with a quick kiss. “I know. It’s okay. Let’s just... let’s go take a break. Walk around, move a little.”

“I don’t know, Rafe, I gotta finish this -”

“Not asking, angel.” He stood, tugging on her hands again. She gave him a wry smile, shaking her head. “You know what that does to me, not fair.” Rafe laughed and nodded. “I know. C’mon, I’ll drag you out of here if I have to. Ten minute walk and then I’ll let you work again.”

She laughed and stood, giving him a quick hug first. He caught her around the waist and wrapped his arms around her, tight. “Love you, Soph. You’re my girl, don’t forget it.” She only nodded, words on the tip of her tongue as she rested her head against his chest. “Hey Rafe?”

“What’s up?” He held her for a little while longer, smoothing his hand over her hair.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, not willing to look at him. She’d felt it coming from him for a while and had tried to prepare herself, but the weight of his words fell on her like a ton of bricks.

“You don’t need to apologize.” He kissed the top of her head, then let her go. “Come on, let’s go walk.” He cleared his throat. “Get your mind off of things.”

She didn’t need a translator to know what things meant.

Although every single instinct in Sophie was screaming at her to distance herself from Rafe for the next decade until he lost interest, she made herself continue to hang out with him like normal. She saw the way Rafe’s face dropped after she told him she couldn’t say it back and absolutely hated the way it made her feel - something that made her stop and think.

She’d never let herself get too attached in previous relationships, always being the one to break it off first. Usually she allowed herself a week-long maximum mourning period, then moved on to the next thing. The fact that Rafe even cared enough to say he loved her made her want to stay, to try, just for him.

Rafe was a little distant on his own part, trying not to get too upset with Sophie for not returning the sentiment. After all, he felt like he’d known since December - only two months into dating - and it didn’t feel right for him to say it then. He was a little hurt, but he’d also tried telling her at least twice already and chickened out. He just hoped she was feeling the same way.

Two weeks later, she snuck Rafe into the Theta house up the fire escape. She had just turned in her final project and declared a celebration was in order. He had the routine down by then - walk over, wait around the corner ‘til the coast was clear, hop the gate then come up the fire escape to the top floor. Allie and Julia were just leaving as he was climbing up the stairs, trying his best to keep quiet.

“Skip the fifteenth step.” Julia advised him as they watched him scale the stairs from the parking lot. Rafe paused, unable to place the voice in the dark and tucked a shoebox under his arm, not sure if he should hide or just run. “I’m not causing any trouble, I swear.” Allie laughed and shone her phone flashlight on him. “Just us, Cameron, we won’t tell.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “Is Soph up there waiting?”

“Yeah, will you convince her to come out with us tomorrow? She’s being lame.” Julia called out.

“I’ll do my best. Can you stop shining the light? I’m gonna get her in trouble.”

“Climb faster.” Allie teased as Sophie pushed open the door up top. “You two are the worst, you know that?” She called down, grinning as Rafe made it up.

“Yeah, yeah, you love us!” Julia yelled back, much louder than necessary. Sophie laughed and grabbed Rafe’s hand, pulling him down the hall and into her room quickly. “Are they gonna give me shit every time I come over?” He asked, smiling.

“Yeah, but it’s ‘cause they like you.” She raised her eyebrows. “What’s in the box?”

Rafe grinned, holding out the shoebox with a poorly-tied ribbon on top. “Made you something, to celebrate. Presentation isn’t quite there, but. It’s something.”

“Something.” She repeated, raising her eyebrows. Sophie took the box and untied the ribbon, then gasped when she opened it. “Rafe, you didn’t!” Inside were 7 cupcakes, haphazardly decorated with pink frosting - her favorite color.

He beamed, rocking back on his heels. “I hope they’re okay, I had to use the fancy ovens we have in the Delt kitchen. And it’s just from a box, but the box is normally okay, I think? James stole one - he didn’t know - but he thought it was good.”

She pulled out her phone to take a quick video of them first, then panned the video up to Rafe. He pushed her phone away with a grin, turning a little red. “It’s kind of cheesy, I guess. But. You deserve it. I’m proud of you.”

“God, I love you.” She breathed out, grinning ear to ear.

He paused for a moment, seeming to process, then came over and wrapped her in a tight hug. “You said it back.”

“I mean it.” She kissed him quickly, a blush on her cheeks. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He replied, pressing his lips to her forehead. She giggled and reached up, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “You have dried frosting on your face.” He scowled but let her rub it away. “Pretty sure there’s flour in my hair too.”

“How’d you know I wanted cake?”

“You mentioned it last week when we watched Matilda, you said you wanted to celebrate with it when you finished finals. But more importantly, you love me back.” He grinned.

“I do.” She laughed. “I mean it, too. I love you.��

“I could hear you say that for ages.” He smiled, looking pleased. “I swear I’ll never get tired of it.”

“Careful what you wish for.” She teased and reached up to kiss him again.

Rafe laughed against her lips, then pulled away just to press his forehead against hers. “I’m glad you waited, you know. I didn’t want you to say it back just to say it.”

“You know I would have held out longer if I didn’t mean it.” She nudged her nose against his. “You’re still my favorite though.”

He beamed and nudged her nose back. “Always my favorite, Soph.”

#rafe x sophie #mine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #college rafe #frat rafe

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reyesstrand · 4 years ago

Note

18 or 22 for tarlos 🥺

thank you both for the prompts!! i put them together in one fic if that’s okay 💗 i hope you enjoy!!!

all prompts are from this list. also available on ao3!

TK’s first birthday in Austin ends up being all he could ever ask for.

He’s still getting used to a new December climate, and part of him doesn’t even want to mention the fact that it’s his birthday to the team. They all have enough to worry about, after all. But of course his dad would never keep quiet about the occasion, and now TK’s coming off a twelve-hour shift and he’d had to clean himself up the best he could in the firehouse’s locker room, to at least be somewhat presentable for his party at Grace and Judd’s.

Carlos glances at him for the fifth time since pulling away from the firehouse, and wordlessly reaches over to place a hand on his knee—the same knee that’s been bouncing nervously since they got in the car.

“Sorry, sorry,” TK murmurs, running his hand through his hair.

“What’s wrong?” Carlos asks, moving his hand from TK’s knee to instead grab his free hand, smoothing his thumb along his knuckles. It immediately centres TK, and he takes a deep breath. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—it’s overwhelming,” TK admits quietly, staring down at his fingers linked with Carlos’, finding it a perfect fit.

“Everyone loves you, Ty,” Carlos says, still moving his thumb in a calming rhythm as he drives. “This party is a way for us to show it.”

“i don’t need all this to know that, though,” TK says, feeling warmth creep up his neck. He remembers the stress he felt he put on his parents, not only having a birthday so close to the holidays but by being a product of their marriage that eventually failed. They were still friendly, sure, but TK can’t just forget the plethora of times a party was thrown for him just so he could forget his dad was three hours late or his mom had to slip away to handle a big client.

“Hey, if it’s too much, we’ll come up with an excuse, okay?” Carlos offers, understanding immediately because of course he does. “We’ll—we’ll say one of us isn’t feeling well, though I guess that’s not the best course of action when almost everyone we know has medical training—”

TK feels the dopey grin spread over his face as his boyfriend rambles. Carlos finally trails off and catches the look on his face, a small smile of his own pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“What?”

“I just love you,” TK says, squeezing Carlos’ hand tight. “And thank you. But I think I’ll be okay. I just,” he waves a hand in a vague motion next to his head, “get a little too caught up in here, sometimes.”

“I know,” Carlos drags his thumb over his knuckles once more, before he’s parking the car right in front of Grace and Judd’s place. “And Ty?”

“Hm?” TK turns his head and is met with a gentle kiss, slowly blinking his eyes open when Carlos pulls away.

“I love you too,” Carlos smiles, and TK rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh but feels his heart beat rapidly nonetheless.

He’s a little apprehensive as he gets out of the Camaro, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves, as he follows Carlos to the front door.

But it turns out that his found family loves him more than he could imagine, because they know him. They know he didn’t want them to go crazy for his birthday, because once they walk into the living room there’s tasteful decorations and various platters of food set up, but it’s just family present. Marjan tackles him into a hug first, ruffling his hair when they pull away; Judd eventually blocks his path until he can smack a kiss to the crown of his head and fist bump him.

“Grace, you didn’t have to—”

“You better not finish that sentence, TK,” Grace says, cocking a brow at him. He lifts his hands in response. “It was an honour to pull this together for you, because you deserve it, love.”

He knows his face is warm, but he doesn’t care. “Thank you.”

She pulls him in then, for a signature Grace-Ryder-hug that’s all swaying and arms squeezing tight around his ribs. He gets a kiss to his cheek, too, and he stalks back toward Carlos and Paul with what he knows is a huge grin on his face.

The whole night is low-key, everyone gathered around to chat and drink and stuff themselves on Grace’s cooking. That is, until the lights suddenly dim and TK hears the beginning of his dad’s tone-deaf attempt at singing “Happy Birthday.”

“Oh, god,” TK mutters, pressing his palm over his face. Carlos just pulls him closer, arm around his waist as he sings quietly into his ear, everyone else joining in at various levels of enthusiasm. Eventually his dad ends up in front of him, cake proudly displaying a candle in the shape of a 27, the light flickering against his face.

TK glances around the room as the song comes to an end, and he’s smiling even as he shakes his head and dramatically takes a deep breath to blow out the candle.

When he’s passed a piece, he can sense something happening by the way the air seems to shift around him.

“What’s—” TK trails off, fork in his left hand and flimsy paper plate in his right, glancing over at his boyfriend.

Who, deep down and just like his friends, is an absolute menace.

“There might be one tradition we didn’t tell you about,” Marjan says, already grinning gleefully.

Carlos slowly comes closer, and TK realizes what’s about to happen too late because in what feels like a nanosecond, he’s suddenly got his piece of cake smashed into his face.

The team howls with laughter, as his mouth falls open in shock and he wipes two handfuls of icing from his eyes.

“Reyes!” TK shouts, already chasing after him, the others in attendance snickering as they move out of the way.

“Baby, come on,” Carlos tries to say through his laughter, but eventually he’s backed up against the wall with nowhere to go.

“Don’t I get a birthday kiss?” TK asks, far too innocently, and Carlos holds him at arm’s length as the others start chanting for them to kiss, several teasing oohs filling the room. TK really lays it on thick, puppy-dog eyes and all, and sees the exact moment Carlos melts.

“Like I could ever refuse you,” his boyfriend murmurs, reaching forward to gently wipe away as much of the bits of cake and frosting stuck to his lips as he can.

It doesn’t do much about the rest of the mess on TK’s face, but neither of them seem to care, as the moment Carlos’ thumb drops from TK’s bottom lip he’s lurching forward to kiss him, trying to pour all the love and gratefulness for this night into one press of their lips.

They’re grinning into it like always, and eventually TK’s frosting-smeared hand comes up to cup Carlos’ cheek, and Carlos’ hands drop down to TK’s sides, and the last thing they’re worried about is cake or their friends standing all around them.

Someone—probably Judd—yells at them to get a room. TK flips him off, lovingly of course, before he kisses his boyfriend once more to get the point across. He pulls back and almost breaks down in tears with the force of his laughter at the sight of Carlos’ face.

Carlos just smacks a kiss to his temple, and TK knows in that second it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

#tarlos #911 lone star #tarlos fic #my fic #trkstrnd #lndnrs

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briefinquiries · 4 years ago

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Just Friends

Request: "can u write one from luke's pov where he is madly in love with the reader but she's already got a boyfriend and he can't help but feel heartbroken knowing that he is just always going to be the readers best friend"

Word count: 5.1k

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @lcvischmitt , @ogmilkis , @goldenalvez , @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016 , @yourwonderbelle , @rachelxwayne , @sc4rletw1tch

Warnings: angst

A/N: I kept thinking of early season Jim and Pam when I wrote this so there’s def office inspiration in this fic!!!!

“Square up, Y/L/N, you’re going down.”

Luke hovered over your shoulder like a bug that just wouldn’t go away, muttering discouraging words into your ear, trying to distract you from the task at hand. You had to admit he was doing a good job, because all you wanted to do was turn around and smack him, but you had to stay focused. A bag of chips was on the line here.

You took a deep breath and pulled your arm back, nothing but sheer determination in your vision, and you let your paper airplane sail. You watched as it flew through the air, coasting past the copier and fax machine, past the cluster of desks, past Luke’s airplane resting on the floor, until it hit the door to the break room and finally landed.

“Yes!” you shrieked, throwing your hands up in victory. “I beat you by like four feet!”

Luke stares, stunned at how you managed to sail your paper airplane all the way across the office space, but nonetheless, hands you over a dollar to get your bag of chips from the vending machines.

“You really should stop betting on things with me, I always win—“ you gloat, as you both make your way into the break room.

Luke leans against the vending machine, watching you select your favorite bag from the top row. “No way, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You laugh, shaking your head at Luke’s remark before opening your bag of chips and heading back to your desk.

Luke watches you go, that familiar sinking feeling becoming prevalent in his stomach, just like every other time you walk away. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his right state of mind. He loved the friendship you two shared, but sometimes he needed a minute to stuff down all the thoughts running through his head, otherwise his undying love for you might just slip out one of these days.

The hardest part of Luke’s day was at five o’clock, when your boyfriend would meet you at the door and walk out to the parking lot with you. Luke would smile and wave goodbye, pretending like it didn’t burn every fiber of his being watching you lace your fingers with his and smile into his side as you exited the building. Then, he’d slowly gather his things and head to his own car, wishing you were at his side.

…

You and Luke had been friends ever since you joined the BAU two years ago. Two entire years, and Luke still swears it was the minute you walked in on your first day, a spot of dried toothpaste on your chin, that he fell completely in love with you.

He spent that entire first week getting to know you, and the next planning out ways he could ask you out. He’d never been more sure that he’d finally met the person he was meant to be with. His soulmate, if you will. Luke had been waiting in his car for your gray SUV to pull in one morning. He planned on exiting at the same time as you, playing it off as a harmless coincidence, and then walking with you up to the third floor. It was a cold December morning when he saw Sam for the first time. Then of course he didn’t know his name. He knew the man as someone driving you to work, with slim shoulders and a trimmed beard. He leaned over the center console and planted a kiss right on your lips before making a U-turn and exiting the parking lot. Luke had let his head drop and made a beeline for the door, trying his best to ignore you calling his name and the gut-wrenching dread he felt.

That was two years ago, and Luke still hadn’t moved on. How could he when you sat only feet away from him? Spreading your infectious laugh and always being there to make him smile? No, Luke hadn’t moved on. Instead, he’d just learned to live with it. He swallowed his feelings and instead focused on the friendship that you two shared, no matter how much it killed him inside. It was always about more than friendship, and he knew it from the start. Even though that is what he loved most about you. Falling in love was quick, easy, inevitable. You would talk and laugh and be happy. If life is a series of moments, then it was those innocent instances that defined Luke for the longest time.

But falling also hurt. You were his best friend. You told him everything, but he had to keep his biggest secret hidden from you. On that first day, even if you didn’t remember it, he could see a future. Your future together. And for that split second he wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to forget about the rest of the world and focus on you. But there was no messing this up. This was you, and it was really just complicated.

…

Luke sat in his car in the parking lot the next morning eating his breakfast and occasionally warming up his hands in front of the air vents. Just as he was finishing off his bagel, there was a soft knock on his window. It took him half a second to realize it was you; your coat was zipped up to your chin and your beige scarf covered most of your face. Luke quickly got out of his car and you both exchanged hellos in the still-dark parking lot.

“What are you doing here so early?” he asks, shivering a little in the cold winter air.

“Sam and I kind of had another spat last night and I wanted to get out before he woke up…" you trail off. Luke’s jaw clenches at the mention of his name. ”What about you?“

“I have to make a call to the LA precinct first thing this morning. if I don’t call him by 8am sharp, he said he couldn’t file the evidence we gathered while we were consulting there on time. I wanted to go over the case file before that.”

“So you got here before the sunrise?”

“It’s a big file,” Luke says with a smile.

You chuckle and then look over to the far end of the parking lot, “Hey, come with me.”

It was one of those commands Luke didn’t have to hear twice. He followed you, his hand in his pockets and his nose buried in his own scarf. You both walked over to the edge of the lot, and you stepped up on the curb, standing on your tip-toes. Luke furrowed his eyebrows.

“Come on, Luke,” you say playfully.

He laughed nervously before following your actions. He faced the direction you were facing and saw that through the fence there was a perfect view of the distant hills on the east side of the city. The sky was thick and dark blue and the hills looked outlined with gold. The sun began to peek over the horizon and the buildings in the horizon went from grays to a bright mixture of yellows and oranges.

Luke glanced over at you as you looked at the view, smiling wide, the sun hitting your eyes. Luke could never quite tell, your eyes always looked hazel and sadly dull in the florescent light of the office, but for the first time he saw their true color: a brilliant green with splashes of brown near the center.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you asked.

“Yeah, really is,” Luke says, still looking straight at you.

“We should go inside,” you said quietly, noticing his insistent stare from your corner view. “I’m freezing.”

Luke nods, eyes lingering on the view a moment longer before he trails behind you inside the building.

…

It's a habit, more than anything else, that has Luke lingering in the break room when he sees the tired lines in your face three days later. It’s instinct, to ask you if you want to talk. To take a seat at the table before he has a chance to consider the implications of what he’s just offered.

Besides, first and foremost, he’s your friend.

More than anything, he wants you to be happy. And if there’s something he can do to ease the tension in your shoulders, to watch the frustrated crease in your brow fade back into familiar calm, then he will. Of course he will.

Being the one to elicit a smile from you is worth the cost of his own discomfort.

Patiently, he listens to your perspective on the misunderstanding between yourself and Sam, he tries to detach himself from the situation enough to give you the sort of sincere and thoughtful advice he’d extend to anyone in that position. But he doesn’t want your thanks — your gratitude that much worse because it’s genuine.

Luke had served as the backboard for you since he met you. He was always around to listen. Maybe he was imagining it, but it seemed like you and Sam had been fighting more and more lately. He hated seeing you upset on a daily basis in the break room and he tried to ignore the sliver of hope he felt inside.

Apparently last night had been bad. Luke can tell the minute he sees your puffy eyes and quivering lip.

“What happened?” he asks, concern evident in his voice.

You shrug, trying to be brave, but the tears fall anyway. “He threw a glass at the wall next to me last night. He was drunk… muttering about how he thought I was cheating on him.”

“Oh my god—“ Luke said, gut dropping as he imagined how scared you must have been in that moment.

“I don’t think he’d ever hurt me or anything. But I was scared.”

“What’d you do?” he asks, taking the seat at the table across from you.

You curled your hands around your mug of coffee, “I left. Went to my moms. I think it’s over. I mean, it has to be, right?”

Luke wants to blurt out a gigantic yes, but instead he empathetically furrows his brows and nods softly, “I definitely don’t like the idea of you being scared.” And without thinking, he reaches his hand across the table and touches yours softly.

Your eyes shoot down to where your hands touch, all of a sudden you feel so nervous. You pull back and drag your coffee mug to your chest.

“I should get back to work.”

…

Luke has a hard time focusing the rest of the day. It was over. You said that. It was over and maybe, just maybe, Luke had a chance here. He’d be your friend first, of course. Just like it’d always had been. He wouldn’t rush you. But now he had a chance to prove how much you truly meant to him. He was elated. Lighter and more hopeful than he’d felt in months.

It all comes crashing down with the sound of the office door opening and closing. Luke’s fists clench at his side the minute he sees Sam walk through the doors. He’s ready to get up and ward him off if necessary; the idea of him yelling at you makes his blood boil. But he watches from his desk instead, as Sam makes his way to you, gently tapping your shoulder and whispering something in your ear.

Your initial reaction is wide eyes, filled with what is that? Fear? It fades quickly, morphs into anger. Then sympathy. Luke watches as you grab your coat from the back of your chair and willingly follow him out of the office, through the door without looking back.

…

“He apologized, and he really was just so sincere. I think he really meant it.”

Luke nods and takes another swig of coffee, which wasn’t even warm now. He cringes.

“Sounds it,” he says dully. Not even he can fake enhance the amount of enthusiasm in his voice.

“What’s that?” you ask, offended by his dull tone.

He looks at you and raises an eyebrow. Disappointment and anger and frustration all boiling under the surface of his skin after seeing you and Sam kissing in the parking lot again this morning, so he decides for the first time in a long time; to be honest.

“No, it’s just I’ve heard all of this before. It gets a bit old is all.”

“It gets a bit old?” you repeat, stunned by his response.

“Yeah you and Sam. He does something nasty, you break up or contemplate breaking up, then he apologizes with roses or chocolates or what was it this time? Perfume? Same story, different version. Can’t blame me for getting bored with it.”

And then Luke walks straight out of the break room and back to his desk, where there’s a light flashing on his phone. He presses the button and pulls up a chair to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey Luke, it’s Dave from the New York field office. Meant to catch you before lunch, but I wanted to talk to you about an agent opening here. It’d be a promotion for you. More duties, but more pay, all of that. Give me a call back with the details if you’re interested. Thanks.”

…

It ended in the parking lot, the blooming seed of happiness that lived deep in his chest was fading, right next to his heart. It was his best friend, his sole support, the girl of his life who made everything just a little bit better. It was you standing there, your jaw dropping with surprise and Luke with his entire heart and soul on the line.

It was Luke that changed the game. This game of yours, the little dance of just barely something more than friends. He had nothing left to lose, because he couldn’t do it anymore. So he gave himself an ultimatum. Tell her you love her. Tell her and if she turns you down, you can accept the job. Tell her you love her. Tell her and if she loves you back, you can live happily ever after.

The words hang thickly in the air. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”

You stand still in your spot, eyes watering and eyebrows furrowed with confusion and surprise. And for a quick second, Luke thinks you might say it back. But then you drop your clenched fist to your side and you let out a loud, inconvenient sigh and it’s amazing how quick his gut picks up on the rejection. It drops as you start muttering about how “you can’t” and “you have a boyfriend.”

“Listen, Luke—“

But that’s all. Because Luke doesn’t want to listen. His hands wrap around you and Sam has never held you like you’re this precious. It’s gentle but firm, warm and large, pulling you softly towards him, gathering you, even as his mouth falls against yours, just as lightly, just a hint of pressure and you feel so small against him, against this unspoken message that he loves you. And it’s powerful.

“Luke—“ you say, finally pulling back.

He freezes, jerks away, his hands still gentle, even as his eyes are screaming, those big brown eyes that love you. “You’re really going to be with him?”

Your ‘yes’ is locked into your throat and tears fill your eyes, but somehow you can’t look away as you destroy your best friend from the inside out. There are a million reasons to stay with Sam and only one to leave him, because you maybe love Luke, but you maybe don’t love Luke, and it’s that thought that makes you nod.

“Okay.”

You can’t blame him when he walks away, when he holds on to your hands for as long as possible, even as he can’t look you in the eyes. You want him to look at you. You want him to fight for you, but you know that’s unfair to ask him. But you don’t want to lose him and you somehow know you’re going to and you need him to understand, but before you know it… he’s gone.

…

It’s not as if you’ve never seen his desk without him sitting there, because of course you have. He’s stayed home sick, made occasional use of his vacation days, gone on consulting trips and prison interviews— you know what the office looks like when the shape of him is missing, but it’s the permanence of it that hurts.

As you settle in that first day of Luke’s absence, you hang your coat up and take a seat, You let yourself miss him as a coworker and as a best friend and that’s it. Work will be work, with or without Luke Alvez.

But that’s a lie, because of course it hurts like hell.

Each day it’s harder, when it starts to sink in that this doesn’t mean a handful of days out recovering from the flu or visiting his family, but that there is a new and permanent Luke-sized hole in the fabric of you. So you play sudoku to avoid noticing the absence of his voice and you doodle in your notebook margins during case consultation meetings to ignore all the jokes he can’t whisper in your ear.

As the days go on, regret floods deeper within you. You always knew Luke was your best friend. But you probably always always knew he was more than that too. You just wished you’d been brave enough to see that.

That night you break up with Sam. This time, there’s no yelling or screaming or wine glasses thrown against the wall. It’s respectable and understood that they are just not meant to be. You thought there’d be a Sam-sized hole inside of you now too, but there’s not. Instead, it just makes room for Luke’s hole to grow bigger.

…

It’s twenty past seven and you’ve got your coat on and bag in hand when the phone rings.

You debate for a moment about answering it — after all, technically you shouldn’t even still be here.

But, well, you are still there, so it’s equal parts obligation and impulse that has you reaching for the handset and saying, “Hello?” with a slightly tired edge in your tone.

“Uh, hey.”

And — oh. Oh.

“Oh my god.”

“Hi.”

“Um… Hi.”

Witty. Clever. Exactly the kind of thing you’d imagined herself saying to Luke when you finally reconnected after too-many-weeks of silence.

“Sorry, I needed a number from Garcia. It was from a case we worked not long ago—”

“Oh.”

“—and I was just gonna leave a voicemail, because I didn’t think anyone would still be there.”

It’s hard not to wonder if Luke had been making an open effort to avoid you on purpose, if he’d waited to call until twenty past seven because you were supposed to be gone and he’s supposed to get a machine instead.

“Why are you still there?”

“I had to work late.” And then, because that sounds flimsy, goes on. “Well I didn’t have to, but there were just some open files I wanted to finish up.”

“Wow,” he says, the faint tone of amusement in his voice. “Wow, the BAU has really changed you Y/L/N. Going above and beyond, that’s not you.”

And you’re smiling—because it’s Luke and you aren’t sure your face is capable of behaving any other way around him—but there’s something nervous and careful in the lines of your expression that isn’t usually there. You’ve missed him, but knows that a subtle shift occurred in your relationship that can’t be undone, that things might never be as easy as they once were.

“Everything else is pretty much the same here.” Except—god, no—of course it isn’t.

“Oh…good.”

You change up your previous statement. “A little different.” Because you need him to understand that even though the routines of the office cycle on, no part of that environment could ever be the same to you without him there. Then you ask, “what time is it there?”

“…What time is it here?” He pauses, something uncertain and unsure in his tone. “Um, we’re in the same time zone.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

“How far apart did you think we were?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, embarrassed. “It feels really far.” And you can hear his thoughtful, quiet agreement that suggests it’s more than just the miles dividing D.C. and New York that’s currently between you.

…

It took you until the next morning to get your act together. You were walking into the building, the sun rising across the lot, and you felt it. A crumpled up piece of paper in your pocket. You gripped it in your fist before pulling it out, unwrapping the paper and trying to make out the scrubbed words.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy.” It was a note from Luke. One from back before the airplane competition, where you’d bet on how many green M&M’s were in the jar resting on Garcia’s desk. You’d beat him easily, leaving time to gloat on how he should just give up on betting against you, cause you always won, just like you did every other time you two bet on something. Luke had left the note on your desk with the soda you’d won.

You could feel the tears surfacing, blurring your vision as you turned in your spot and starting walking all the way back to your car. You opened the note up again after you’d sat in the driver’s seat, unfolding the paper and running your hands over Luke’s scratchy scrawl and letting yourself feel what was long overdue. It all floods in at once. The despair, the guilt, the regret. But also the love and admiration and memories of laughing, smiling, feeling lighter than ever around him.

You stop in your tracks, backing out of the building and walking back towards your car.

You pull your phone out of the depths of your pocket and dial your boss’ number quickly.

“Emily,” you say when she answers. “I need to take the day off. I have to go to New York.”

…

The city was so close down the road, you could see the outline of hazy buildings out of the window. You stared diligently ahead, running through what you were going to exactly say to Luke when the time came. But before you knew it, you were pulling into the parking lot of the New York FBI field office, sliding into the spot beside Luke’s car as an automatic reflex, and you still had no idea what you were doing, what you would say. Yet your feet trudged up to the front door, almost like a little girl who knew that you had to admit to your mother that you’d smashed her favorite vase, because it had to be done, you just weren’t quite ready for the aftermath. There were no obstacles now. No Sam or unacknowledged feelings and you were sure that’s what scared you the most. What if, after all this time, Luke had just had enough? What if you just weren’t meant to be?

You walked right up to reception, waiting until the woman hung up the phone before telling her you were here to see Luke.

“Y/N?” his familiar voice rings through the air and when you look over, you can see him standing up from his desk. “What are you doing here?” There’s a hint of curiosity and surprise and maybe even a little excitement in his voice.

You couldn’t tell him here. You had to go somewhere more private.

“Could we um, talk?” you say quietly, offering him the slightest smile even amidst your nerves.

“Yeah,” he says, “let me just grab my coat—“ he motions back towards his desk with his thumb, where you see his familiar black jacket hanging off from the back of his chair. You wait patiently with your arms crossed across your chest, bouncing on the backs of your heels.

“All set?” he says, hand buried deep within his pockets.

You walk down to the parking lot in silence, still pondering what you were going to say to Luke in your head.

“How’s New York?” you asked after thanking him for holding the door open for you. You wanted to stall as long as possible.

Luke chuckles, “Common, Y/N. You didn’t drive three and a half hours to New York to ask me how the city is.”

You blush, of course you didn’t. But you still didn’t know what to say to him. To Luke. The man you loved, completely and wholly, with everything inside of you.

You could feel your cheeks growing hot as you thought about what you were about to admit. You’d had so much courage built up inside of you before, but now, it was quickly draining. You had to say it before you were completely empty.

“I miss you.”

Your heart’s still thumping like crazy, banging against your ribs, and you’re not entirely sure what you just said.

And Luke didn’t say anything back to you, but it wasn’t like you said all the stuff that you were thinking to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you continue, your voice wavering.

Luke shakes his head. “I’m okay.“

You nod. There’s a silence, long enough that you worry you’re not going to be able to say it all and nothing will happen and you’ll go back to being scared and afraid. You want to be someone who says what they feel.

“It’s just— the BAU isn’t the same and… I miss you. I miss you a lot, Luke. I miss my best friend.”

“It can’t be that way again, Y/N,” he says. "I wasn’t your best friend. I was in love with you.”

“We could just go back to the way things were—“

"No,” he says. He’s standing so still, arms at his sides. ”What you miss – that wasn’t friends. That was us… that was me being something more. All the time. And I can’t do that anymore. It hurt too much.”

You feel kind of sick, but a little voice in the back of your head says you should be grateful for whatever happened, because it was better than being endlessly, endlessly quiet.

“Then I’m really sorry,” you say at last. “Because I miss that.”

“What do you think that means?” he asks, and there’s a little heat in his voice. “What do you think you’re really missing?”

Before, you would have undoubtedly ducked your head and avoided the question, or flat-out lied. Now though, you had driven three and a half hours and you’re standing in front of Luke, far enough away that you have to speak up for him to hear.

“I know what it means,” you say quietly. “And you know.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t. You’ve made it clear you only wanted to be friends.”

“I don’t think I’ve made anything clear,” you say, and for the first time you have the urge to move closer, speak more softly, because this is the hard part, the thing you couldn’t say in front of everyone else. “I should have been honest a long time ago, and I know that, but I couldn’t until I knew what I wanted.”

“Do you?” he asks after a moment, his voice low. “Know?”

You take a big breath, letting the oxygen go to your head, willing back the feeling you had just before you ran up to the third floor. “I want to feel the way I did when I was with you, back before you moved to New York. I don’t want to be lonely, and I want to redo the past two years except it made me figure out a lot of things about myself, so I don’t know. I want stuff to be easy, Luke, and it isn’t, and I thought that maybe if we could be friends again I could have one thing in my life that made me happy, even if it wasn’t what I really wanted.”

He’s quiet for a long time. The wind whips against you, making you shiver.

“Why can’t you say it?” he asks.

“Would anything change if I did?”

“I don’t know, everything changed when I said it.”

“Fuck it,” you mumble, the cold air filling your lungs, “I love you. I have loved you but I was with Sam and I was afraid and I didn’t know it. And I’m still afraid, but I know it now.”

You stare and wait for his reaction, hoping with everything inside of you that you weren’t too late. But the look on Luke’s face, the sad, almost pitiful stare, gave you reason to believe that you were.

And your courage drained for good.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping a tear falling down your cheek, “I shouldn’t have come. I’m gonna go. It was nice to see you,” you mumble before turning away and heading towards your car.

When Luke saw you turn away, it was as if lightning struck him. All he could see was your back, stiff and tense, walking back towards your car, parked near his, and suddenly he didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know how it had come to this. The last several months had turned you both into people he didn’t even recognize anymore, and he blamed himself.

You were all he ever wanted. You were the one he saw in his dreams and imagined in his fantasies for years on end, and he had you. It was supposed to be forever, but all he seemed to do anymore was hurt you. The Luke from six weeks ago would absolutely kill him for that. The Luke from six weeks ago would feel about him like he used to feel about Sam. Sam took you for granted, and didn’t consider your feelings.

Like Luke was doing now.

He sprinted toward you, his long legs reaching yours in just a couple of long strides, and he grabbed your arm to turn you around. You had no idea what was happening, but he didn’t stop to explain. He simply wrapped his arms all the way around you, and held you close. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t reciprocate immediately. He pulled you closer. He buried his face in your hair, nuzzled into your neck, and tried to breathe you in. He remembered the electric shock of when you first met (for him, anyway), how it felt to love you and not be able to have you. He couldn’t let himself let it slip away.

You finally wrapped your arms around him, and he felt a small shudder go through you. You pulled back and he could see your face crumple just before you took his face in both hands and kissed him. When you parted, you were both smiling as said, “I love you” in unison.

#luke alvez fic #luke alvez imagines #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez x reader fanfic #luke alvez x reader imagine #luke alvez x reader #criminal minds x reader imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader fic #luke alvez fanfic #luke alvez fanfiction #luke alvez angst #criminal minds

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j0hn-deacons-perm · 4 years ago

Text

Charcoal Dust

Female reader x Brian May

Word Count ~6,100.

I had this fic sitting in my documents since August and re-reading it, I didn’t hate it. So I guess I’m posting it. A bit of a warning I suppose...it goes get slightly suggestive but not 18+..If you’re sensative to that sort of thing, maybe skip this one my dudes.

With the last flick of your eyeliner, you deem yourself ready to head out to the bar. Freddie wanted to let off some steam with finals and you couldn't help but to join in. The apartment you two share have been littered with projects and materials and he almost strangled you for not cleaning up your charcoal dust. With that being the straw which broke the camel's back, tonight is to just get shit faced and to have fun. At least Fred settled one a bar that isn't too much of a walk so you don't have to worry about driving. Grabbing your coat, you leave the complex and into the cold december night.

***

"Y/N, dearie, you're here! Finally the night can commence!"

Freddie runs to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"The boys are here as well. Can't tell you how much work it took to get John out."

Your eyes settle on Deaky, already a bit drunk and waving at you with a grin. "Evenin' Y/N! How's it going?"

"Not as good as you from the looks of it. But I bet a couple drinks could fix that."

You turn to the bar and order your usual mix drink along with a round of shots for everyone.

"Here's to having a good night amongst friends!"

"Cheers!"

Everyone downs their shot and you finally sit down, taking the empty spot next to Deaky. Roger and Brian seem to be in their own little world talking about something so you don't bother with that can of worms yet.

"Y/N, did you find a new model for your drawing yet?"

"Nope. That fucking Steven kid answered my ad, took my payment then just vanished. Won't answer the phone, haven't seen him around campus..I'm out like 80 quid and nothing to draw for my final."

"Ouch. What does it entail exactly?"

"I need to do a live nude model study."

Roger's ears seem to perk up with the mention of 'nude'.

"I can help you out with that, love."

Brian rolls his eyes and Freddie chuckles.

"So, me buying you a shot doesn't get your attention but mentioning I need to draw a naked person does?"

"Well, yeah. You should know this by now."

"I thought alcohol and nudity were on the same tier of importance to you, Taylor."

"Close..but not quite."

You nod at him with a fake academic-like expression as you rub your chin.

"Right, so if anyone knows someone who would be down to model for me let me know."

"I just said I was!"

"Anyone but Roger."

"Oh! What about Brian, dear? He'd be a great model."

The man in question glares.

"Uh..Fred, I don't think so."

"Why ever the fuck not? I've seen you naked before, May. You'd be fantastic. Plus Y/N gets to see your cute little bottom and huge cock!"

His cheeks turn bright red.

"Absolutely not, Fred."

Freddie looks over to your face, laughing despite blushing profusely. He knows of your small crush on the guitarist and loves to relish in opportunities making you and Brian uncomfortable in hopes you two would actually do something. Much to his, and your disappointment, nothing ever happens.

"Well I would do it but I don't have the time in my schedule considering I'm going to be stuck in the art building working on my own shit. Now come on, don't subject her to Roger."

Brian looks over to you, finding you playing with a hem on your shirt, trying to distract yourself from the awkward conversation.

"Well we both know Bri's not going to do it, so when can I come over, love?"

With a slump of your shoulders, you face the blonde.

"It's not a sexual thing where I draw everything, you know. You're going to be in a pose you can hold for a long period of time while I focus on drawing mainly your prominent body landmarks like ribs, pelvis, and muscles along with bones."

"See, Bri? It's not a personal experience, she's just studying your anatomy. With how lanky you are, it'd be easy to see everything."

"I'll also pay you for your time. Might be a bit before I can get the money but you will be compensated. Also if it's too much for you, you can wear your underwear for most of it until I need to get a certain part."

He looks between you and Freddie, a sigh escapes his lips.

"Fine. I'll do it."

Freddie smirks at you and gives a wink before coming into to whisper in your ear.

"Just a heads up, I've seen him naked and you may have to draw three legs."

You turn bright red but can't help but to cackle at his comment. Brian rolls his eyes and says 'fucker' under his breath.

*** A couple drinks turn to quite a few and talking with Brian ended up with the date, time and place for your drawing session. Now that three days have passed, the time arrives along with four knocks on the door.

"Hey Y/N."

"Hey Bri, thank you so much again for doing this for me."

He looks around the living room and sees you've set up your workspace: an easel, one of the living room chairs and one of the end tables with your box of drawing utensils. He also looks at how it's pointed towards the sofa with a sheet draped on it.

"How would you like me?"

"Comfortable. You'd probably be stuck in that spot for a while. I have pillows if you want 'em."

He nods and sits down on the sofa while you go towards the record player and pop on one of your favorite records.

"I like to work to music so hope you're okay listening to the Beatles for a few hours."

"Why would I complain about good music?"

You chuckle as you sit down in your spot, making any last minute adjustments to the easel's height. Turning your head to the sofa, you see him unbuckling his belt before slipping his shirt off. Back towards you.

Freddie was right, he has a good figure to make this assignment easy for you. Despite trying to stay professional, it's hard to not check out your crush as he strips. When the pants start slipping off, you turn away, too shy to look anymore.

He is your friend, Y/N...he is your friend who is helping you with a project. Don't make this weird..

But then you remember your roll of tape for the sheet so when it's break time, you won't lose the pose.

Shit...

"Hey Bri, once you settle on a pose, would it be okay if I put some tape around you so we don't lose the pose after we take a break?"

"Yeah, that's okay. I also might take you up on that pillow offer."

"Sounds good, I'll be right back."

You smile as you get up and leave for your bedroom to grab him a couple pillows off your bed. When you walk back into the living room, you swear the air has shifted once you see him laying in his underwear on the couch, watching the record spin on the turn table. A knot forms in your stomach..

You're working on your final, you're working on your final, you're working on your final.....

You walk up towards him and hands him the pillows. He promptly adjusts them to fit his pose.

"This alright for your composition, Y/N?"

"Let me check."

You sit down back in your chair and look at what you can see. You can see many of the body's landmarks..ribs, collar bones, muscles, parts of the pelvis...but not the strongest for a good composition.

"The pose is fine but I'm going to move over a bit to get a more interesting angle of ya."

You scoot your set up closer towards the turntable, giving a more dynamic angle of your model.

"Alright, we're looking good. Just need to tape where you're at and we can get started."

Hands slightly shaking on the masking tape roll, you rip pieces off and place them where Brian's posed. It's easy to tell he's tense.

"Bri, you're welcome to chat during this if you want. And whenever you want to take a break to stretch out, do not hesitate to ask."

"Sounds good, love. I guess I'm ready when you are."

He's called you love before but now it seems a bit different...

HE IS JUST HELPING YOU ON YOUR FINAL PROJECT, STOP IT

You rub over your paper pad, sighing and grab your hard charcoal to get the initial lines and shapes in. You can see him closing his eyes once more marks land on your paper. His shoulders also slowly begin to become less tense.

*** Two full albums later, Brian calls break time. You clean your hands off on your pants and set your charcoal back in its box next to you. Having the main structures done and angles correct, you feel good about the progress.

"How's it coming along, love?"

"I think maybe another hour or so and we'll be good."

"Can I sneak a look or is it confidential?"

You nod your head for him to take a look, his presence now behind your back as he analyzes your work. Nerves become more apparent the longer he's silent. You're about to look over your shoulder until you hear him say

"I'm really liking it so far, Y/N. Fred's told us about your work and it's incredibly articulate. However it is odd knowing that's me on your paper."

You blush profusely at his compliment, even more so now that you realize he's extremely close to your body wearing just underwear.

"Well how about I grab you a robe and I'll make us some coffee?"

"Sounds lovely to me, especially since seeing how you're fully clothed, I'm a bit vulnerable."

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable! Let's get that robe."

"I'm not uncomfortable, just a bit cold maybe."

Leaving for your room once again, you grab your robe. It might be a bit too short for the gentle giant in your living room but it's better than nothing.

"I'm surprised you didn't give me Fred's."

"You don't want it, trust me."

He laughs, tying the belt around his middle and follows you into the small kitchen to grab his favorite mug whenever he visits. The silence grows more comfortable as you hear the coffee drip into the small pot and another cabinet opens to grab the sugar. You open the fridge to grab the milk. Your pour the hot liquid as he adds the sugar to the two mugs, followed by the splash of milk you like in yours. Smiles meet each other and you two sit back in the living room, a new record begging to be played.

"Want more Beatles or how about just some John? I have Plastic Ono Band and Imagine."

"Oh god, that's a decision isn't it?"

"It really is. I'm half tempted to just put Hard Day's Night on."

"Did you see that in theaters? The girls went absolutely mad."

"With that scene with John in the bath? I'm sure I still have hearing issues from that. It got even worse seeing Help."

"George bit?"

"George bit."

Laughs echoed amongst the walls, sharing knowing glances at how loud the shrieking was.

"Have to love sort of shared traumatic experiences. But I'm intrigued, who is your favorite of the four?"

"The Beatles or Queen?"

A slight smirk dances across his lips.

"Beatles? When I was younger, Paul. In more recent years, has to be John. I really respect his political work and his solo albums are so personal and raw."

He nods at your answer, agreeing.

"But with you lot? No one. Don't tell Freddie that, he'll plant something in my bed."

He answers in a hearty laugh.

'It's not like I can say you before we get back to working on a naked drawing of you...'

*** With Lennon playing on the speakers and more charcoal on paper, you're back at it again. Brian somehow managed to get himself back into the same pose with one or two directions from you. Things are now going easier considering the drawing is now just filling in the blanks until you couldn't get one detail right due to it being covered by his underwear. The more you try to remember how the muscles and bone look, the more incorrect it looks to your eyes. The inevitable needs to happen.

"Hey Brian, I'm hating to ask this but uh...I can't get the lower abs to look right with the pelvis. Could you....takeyourunderwearoff."

The last part just rushed past your lips as fast as you could. Your cheeks are bright red, a tell tale sign being how hot your face just became. It's even worse when he arches his brow.

"What was that last part?"

You sigh deeply.

"Could you...take your underwear off so I can get your pelvis a bit better?"

"Oh...uh, yeah."

His cheeks probably match yours but you cover your eyes while he strips the last bit of cloth standing between him being completely exposed in front of you.

"Alright Y/N, you can look now."

His nervous laughter is puntuated with your eyes opening again. While you have a clearer view of the muscles in question, you also have a clearer view of other things.

You now understand why it's called a happy trail.

Correcting his angles once again, you start where you just left off. Only to have the record stop playing, meaning you had to stand up and change the music. Meaning probably a clear view of his, what Freddie called, 'his third leg'. Hands slightly shakey as they remove the vinyl and put it back in its respective sleeve. Fingers lead their way towards Revolver, your go-to homework album. Once the intro of Taxman plays, you make your way back to your seat. During which, your peripheral vision does you dirty.

Fred wasn't entirely kidding. Dear god, Y/N, you're almost done just finish your damn project so Bri can go home and you can take a cold shower...

You sit back down and sigh, taking your charcoal and getting back to work, correcting any inaccuracies caused by his underwear being in the way and adding more to his figure. Side one is over far too soon, causing you to get up and be betrayed by your eyes once again.

At least now it's just adding a bit of definition to the head and small details. Taking the blunt end of your charcoal stick, you begin adding some hair to the drawing. The couple hairs on his chest, a gesture of pubic hair and some messy lines for the curls on top of his head. Staring at his face now, he peeks his eyes open and winks at you then smiles.

"I thought you weren't going to draw my face?"

"Just a little something so it's not just a blank shape."

"Alright. Do you want my eyes open or closed?"

"Do what you want, Bri."

His eyes land on the legs of your easel, moving them around a bit to follow the smudges of paint and charcoal about. Your eyes trace along the angles of his face, adding them to the basic head shape you added during the beginning steps. Browbone, cheeks, nose, eyes, brows, and gesture of his slightly open mouth put down on paper as you mark it done. Looking at the lower right corner of your paper and taking your thin marker, you write your name, class session, semester, and model's first name.

"Alright Bri, I think we're good to go. Want to come take a look?"

Standing up and putting your robe back on, he walks behind the chair. His eyes take in the final composition, from the pillows to his curls all the way down to how to managed to get the angle right on his feet. The sofa, while made of basic abstract shapes, make him look like he's properly weighed out on the cushions.

"It's weird seeing me like that."

"I bet. Talking with some of the models outside of class, they tell me it takes some getting used to seeing shit like this."

"Seeing what others see in your naked body is very...daunting. I think you made me look too good to be honest."

"I just drew what I saw, May."

You look up behind you and catch him blushing, looking down at you while smiling.

"You are incredibly talented, Y/N. If you don't get an A, I'm taking personal offense with your instructor."

You blush hard at the compliment while laughing at his comment.

"Honestly, I would too. You made a beautiful model, Bri. It was an honor to draw you."

Why did I just say that?..

He looks away, face looking shy. He takes compliments almost as bad as you. He sits down back on the sofa, looking at you.

"Now, you did say at the bar that I'd be compensated for my time."

"That I did."

You start to pack away your drawing supplies before digging a can of hairspray out of your backpack. Spraying a light coat over your drawing, you let it dry before packing it away for safe keeping.

His eyes watch you dismantle your workspace, showing him something you've done nearly a hundred times over. Little did you know, seeing you in your element like this made his heart swell. Brian knew you were an art student but never saw you at work. Little did he know, yours did the same when you saw him at practice or on stage. After cleaning up and putting furniture back in their right spots, you sit down in the chair to only find Brian patting the cushion next to him. Giving him a fake glare, you sit next to him.

"I've been thinking of payment and would it just be fine if we ordered some take away and hung out? I'd feel bad taking your money."

"You sure? I'd feel bad not compensating you for your time."

"Y/N, I laid on your couch, chatted with you and listened to my favorite music. Yeah it was a bit weird considering I take a girl out before she sees me naked but hey."

You laugh nervously at his joke, blushing for probably the 53rd time that night.

"I'll get dressed and we'll head out, that good for you?"

"Yeah. I need to change clothes anyway."

"Why? You look cute covered in charcoal."

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest like a looney toons character. You and the guys are used to calling eachother cute or handsome but something about him being just about naked underneath your robe after drawing him for nearly two hours makes your heart race at a dangerous pace.

"Let's get ready, hmm?"

He stands up, clothes in tow as he walks to the bathroom. The sound of the door closing brings you back to the moment. Grabbing your pillows and sheet off the couch, you leave for your room. The slight smell of him lingering on the fabric fills your nostrils as you throw it towards your laundry basket.

"Goddammit...don't get your hopes up. It's not like this is a date, Y/N..." You whisper under your breath.

Grabbing the clothes you wore earlier today, you get dressed and apply a little extra deodarant and perfume. By the time you've put your shoes on and out of your room, he's slipping his shoes on. Even in mid-December, he's wearing his clogs. He hears your laughter from across the room.

"What's so funny?"

"Bri, it's Christmas in nearly two weeks and you're wearing clogs? If you slip on ice thanks to those things, I’m not helping you up."

"It hasn’t snowed yet, though! Have to wear them while there's still time. Besides, look who's bloody talking wearing canvas sneakers in the cold."

"At least my entire foot is in the shoe."

"That's it, I'm not letting you borrow my scarf if it's still windy. Not with that attitude."

You smack his arm and grab your purse off the coat rack. Locking the door behind you is the last thing before you two leave for any place that is still serving food at this hour.

***

Only getting as far as a corner store, you two buy a couple drinks then enough snacks to constitute a meal. The walk back to the apartment was on the quiet side, Brian looking up to the sky every few blocks in a vain attempt to see any stars that would accompany the moon shining that night. Not much for viewing besides the waxing moon hanging above your heads, hundreds of thousands miles away.

"Hey Bri?"

His features seem almost guilty, being caught in the act but he smiles at you.

"Would it be possible for you to teach me some things about what's up there? Fred's showed me some astrology stuff but it would be kinda cool seeing the constellations and what makes them, y'know?"

"I'd just talk your ear off."

"Can't be too bad, I deal with that already."

You wink as he rolls his eyes.

"But I'm serious, I want to know a little bit about what you study in uni. Especially since we go to different schools, it'd be interesting seeing another side of academics that isn't just color theory or how to mathematically draw cylinders."

"How do you mathematically draw cylinders?"

"It's all about angles and where it sits in space, mostly. Getting that perspective correct. After enough practice I guess you can just sort of see it rather than drawing out all these different grids and lines."

"Does that tie in with drawing people?...That's probably a stupid question of course it does."

"It does but with that, you also need to keep in mind where things in the body are. In our class we also have to do these...sculpting lessons. We're given half a skeleton on a stand and we sculpt the muscles using clay."

He nods, listening to you talk about your coursework and your subject matters from basics to more focused studies. Once back to your apartment, you find Freddie has returned from the art building. The noises of you and Brian taking off shoes and coats made him pop his head around the wall.

"Y/N, lovie, how did your drawing session go?"

"Rather well! Want to see it?"

"Well of course, dear!"

You grab your and Brian's bags from the corner store and place it on the kitchen counter before heading over to your drawing pad, propped up against your chair. Nerves arise as you watch his eyes gaze over your work, the smell of the hairspray you used seal in the charcoal floating to your nostrils.

"Fucking hell, this is brilliant. If you get a bad mark I'm visiting your professor during office hours and giving them a piece of my mind."

He looks down Brian's legs on the paper, your careful contour lines elegantly outlining the muscles.

"I think you forgot a leg, though."

Brian's rolls his eyes as Fred's cackle fills the room. You slap the sketchpad closed and return it to it's spot next to your school bag. A sympathetic look is aimed towards your model.

"Come on you two, lighten up. How about a game of Scrabble, hmm?"

"It is getting a little late, Fred, and Brian has to get back to his place."

"He knows he's welcome to crash on the couch if he wants."

The man in question looks between you two, biting his lip in thought.

"I wouldn't mind crashing here tonight. I'm sure Roger wouldn't mind the flat to himself."

"Then it's settled. You old ladies get your food out of the kitchen and we start this game."

What wasn't expected was Brian winning with such a lead. You could've sworn you've seen Fred's eyes glow red as he told the curly haired man to get out of his home for disrepecting him that severely. He went to bed infuriated as he left you two out in the living room to watch TV.

"You sure you want to spend the rest of your Friday night here?"

"It's technically Saturday morning now."

"Smart ass."

He smiles and slowly leans towards you on the sofa, his warmth sneaking up the arm closest to him.

"Hey Bri?"

He hums in response, eyes not leaving the program painting the screen.

"I never really properly thanked you for helping me with my assignment. You honestly saved my grade modeling for me."

He turns his head to face you, eyes looking at yours illuminated by the screen's light.

"You're more than welcome, love. It was interesting watching you work. You have this little face you make when you're really concentrated."

"Where I don't blink and my mouth is partially open? That's my focusing amphibian look."

He chuckles.

"Roger does the same thing but that's his confused look."

"I thought his confused face was this.."

You imitate the face you've seen many times during your homework sessions with the boys. Also when he tries to understand what Fred wants to do add extra flair to shows or songs.

"No, you're right. That's the one." He laughs.

Comfortable silence floats around the air as you two continue watching telly. Thirty meants turn into 90 as the episodes of various shows play before you. Slight comments here and there said but it wasn't until Brian laid his head on top of your head that something was really spoken.

"I have a question."

"Care to share with the class, May?"

You can feel his cheeks stretch out with a slight smile.

"Would you think less of me if I put my studies on hold when, or even if the band gets bigger? I know we only have one album out at the minute but I've thought about it and..."

Patting his knee, you spoke.

"I could never think less of you for persuing something like that. You and the guys have worked your asses off and if, no, when your hardwork pays off, grab those opportunities. You earned any success that comes your way."

He moves his head to look directly into your eyes.

"Knowing you, you'll eventually get your PhD but sometimes life throws you a curveball and you have to just roll with what it gives you. If it's Queen, then see it through."

Surprise washes over you as he gives you a hug, enveloping you in his arms tightly as his face creates a home in the crook of your neck. This breath along your skin giving away to goosebumps.

"I've been thinking about this for weeks and um...."

"Did you already drop out, Bri?"

"No, no..."

"Uh huh..." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Seriously, Y/N, I haven't dropped out of uni. I've been thinking about...."

You pull away and look at his eyes directly, cheeks flushed even in the low light of the living room.

"What is it?"

He sighs, looking down at his lap.

"You."

Eyes going wide, you look at anything but him. The stray floaty in the air, the reflection of light as a car drives past your flat, the one stray strand of yarn or whatever it is sticking out of the rug on the floor.

"I'm not saying this because you drew me naked and I'm feeling obligated to but tonight made me realize something."

Your eyes finally focusing on your hands, fingernails picking at cuticles.

"If this does become something larger than life, I don't want to leave you behind. When Freddie introduced us to you last year, there was something about you I couldn't shake off. I wasn't sure what it was the chalk pastel dust you were covered in or something else."

You smile at his words but your heart doesn't lighten up the speed at the rate it's beating. When it comes loose, it's going to skyrocket across the English channel.

"But now actually getting to know you over time and tonight made me come to the conclusion that....I certainly have feelings for you and I don't know what you want to do with that information."

Your fingers stop picking at a loose bit of skin on the side of your nail and you swear your heart just stopped in your chest. Eyes wide, you stare at him. Mouth agape, not knowing what to say other than just "Bri..."

"I can see I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. Maybe I should head ho-"

As he begins to stand up, you grab his wrist and pull him right back down towards your side.

"Meeting you was one of the most profound days in my life, Bri. You...fuck,...I'm not a wordsmith and I'm nervous as all hell right now."

He smiles ever so slightly but his leg bounces with such vigor you wouldn't be surprised if your downstairs neighbor complained to the landlord tomorrow.

"And now hearing you may have feelings for me? Like...how do I even process this when it's something I've been wanting to hear for almost a year?"

It's now his turn for his eyes to buldge open in shock.

"When you first talked to me about astrophysics and I saw your entire demeanor light up with such passion, my heart damn near stopped. I couldn't focus on anything else but you. Even when you're just relaxed I feel like that. You're breathtaking and I'm pretty sure I went comotose and had a lucid dream seeing you perform with the boys for the first time."

He smiles, eyes looking directly into yours as your mouth just vomits out any word you promised to never let out.

"I've fallen for you so hard. I love your smile and laugh. I love the slope of your nose. I love that you've let your hair be curly because let's be real, you looked real questionable when you straightened it."

He laughs and you can tell his cheeks are heating up.

"I love that little noise you make when you find something interesting in your textbooks and your hums when you're thinking of a new song and your little eyerolls at the boys when they're being dumbasses and your sense of humor and just......fuck, look at you! You're so fucking handsome and that's even with the clogs!"

He grabs your hands, rubbing his thumbs against the knuckles. His smile shining so bright even with the low light from the television that's now taken a backside seat of your conversation. He looks down at your entertwined hands.

"Calling you a friend and wanting to see you has gotten me out of bed so many days Y/N, I've lost count. I can't even imagine if you'd be more than a friend to me but I guess we can find out."

Your smile has extended to lengths you didn't know possible. Letting go of his hands, you wrap your arms around him instead.

"I forgot to say this, but I also love your hugs."

A chuckle escapes his chest and he holds you tighter, a kiss lands on your cheek. Time goes by as shows flash before your eyes, eventually leading to you falling asleep in his arms with him not too far behind.

*** Hours pass before you awake, head laying on his lap and knees tucked in. Sitting up, you find him using the arm rest as his pillow, arms crossed underneath his face. He looks so peaceful and you don't want to take him up but you want to sleep in your bed.

Dare you ask if he wants to join you?

It'll just be us sleeping together in the same bed and maybe cuddles...?

You brush his curls away from his face, tucking what you can behind his ear as you shake him gently.

"Hey Brian..?"

He doesn't stir, contemplating on just his carrying his lanky ass to your room.

"Bri.. wake up, hon. Come on."

You continue rubbing his upper arm until he stirs awake, opening his eyes and squinting at the screen's light.

"...What time is it?"

"Late. Would you want to sleep on the couch or my bed?"

"I'm fine out here, I don't want to take your bed from you."

You smile and chuckly slightly.

"I mean share the bed with me."

He smiles at the idea but eyes are shy.

"I'd like that."

You two stand up, him shutting up the TV and you leading the way to your room with his hand in yours. Navigating the small hallway at night lead to him bumping into you twice, and him saying apologies but you could not care less.

Once in your room and switching on the light, he's greeted to your own personal space. He can see canvases with studio projects painted on them under your bed, posters littering your walls. Some local band shows you've attended, a Queen one catching his interest. His eyes also catch your Beatles poster, the one from their White Album. He also sees the pillow he used earlier that day when he was modeling along with the robe tossed into the corner with the rest of your dirty laundry.

"I think I might have a pair of pants you could wear unless you're not a pants to bed kind of guy."

"No pants is what I normally go for but if you're uncomfortable with that I ca-"

"It's fine with me, just no funny business, May."

"Are cuddles out of the equation?"

"I sure as hell hope not."

He smiles and removes his necklaces, placing them next to your sketchbooks on top of the small desk next to the bed. You change into sleep shorts as he takes his trousers off.

Never thought I'd see that twice today.

Shutting off the light and climbing into bed, he goes first, leaving you in your usual spot. Fluffing up the pillows and adjusting the blankets now done, He wraps you in his arms almost immediately, lips kissing your cheek gently.

"You have enough pillows, Bri?"

"Yes. Thank you, love."

"Want me to grab another blanket?"

He laughs gently, kissing your face one last time.

"I'm more than okay."

You turn around to face him head on, able to make out where his eyes are looking. Fingers playing with one curl, eventually leading to caressing the side of his face. Thumb tracing over one of his cheekbones.

"You're so handsome, Bri."

"Ever look at yourself?"

"Do you always kiss ass?"

"Not until the 3rd date."

You slap his arm, laughing.

"I guess with that comment I won't give you a kiss goodnight."

His face contorts in fake hurt. It's wiped off as soon as you bring your lips to his, fingers gently caressing his jaw as you kiss him. Almost as fast as it happened, it stopped. Smiles painting both your faces.

"Goodnight Y/N."

"Goodnight Bri."

Turning back around, you scoot closer to him. Arms around your waist and face tucked near your shoulder, you two fall asleep.

*** You wake up before him. His arms are still wrapped around your middle and your legs entangled with one anothers. Your bladder urging you out of the warm confines of your bed, you carefully move out of his grasp to not awake him. Mission was successful as you close the door behind you, hearing Freddie in the kitchen as you walk to the bathroom. After giving yourself a pep talk while washing you hands, you face your roommate, face giving you a smirk.

"Y/N....I saw his god awful shoes by the door but he wasn't on the couch. Please tell me the details, darling!"

"Nothing really happened, Fred! We ended up talking after you went to bed and he sort of told me he had feelings for me and we passed out on the couch."

"He finally told you? About fucking time! You have no idea how much Roger got on his case. Even Deaky was begging him to shut up and ask you out. 'Oh how is Y/N doing? Is she free sometime soon, Fred? What should I get her for Christmas? What does she like? Do you think she likes me?'....every practice Y/N..every practice."

"At least I finally got around to it, Freddie."

He wrapped his arms around you, voice heavy with sleep.

"Now I get to annoy you about her even more now that we're dating."

Brian kisses your neck as Freddie pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Please don't subject us to that. We've suffered enough, dear."

***

aaaay, it’s done! Tbh, I got the idea for this fic after looking through some of my life drawing sketches. Also, a tip with charcoal or chalk pastel drawings from an art student...use hair spray. It’s cheaper than fixitive spray, works just as well, doesn’t affect the colors in chalk pastels, and doesn’t harm your lungs with the fumes (not nearly as badly, anyway). Besides that, thank you so much for reading, liking, reblogging, etc 💖💖

#queen #queen band #queen fanfiction #brian may imagine #brian may fanfiction #brian may x reader

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punkpoemprose · 4 years ago

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December 11th- A Convenient Arrangment Part 3

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T (mentions of sex, negative self esteem, and a brief panic attack) Length: 4095 Words

A/N: I’m behind, as always. And now I have brain rot for this AU. Will I catch up? Will I manage to write for other projects I was going to work on this Advent? Stay tuned, because I don’t even know yet! [Part 1] [Part 2]

When she showed him to his room, he was astonished to find it next door to her own. It wasn’t the room he’d been rushed into previously to prepare for the ceremony but was rather much larger. There were large windows that overlooked the Fjord, and a door that adjoined Anna’s room.

“This used to be my governess’s room. I hope you don’t mind that. It’s not as large or fancy as my room, but adjoining rooms is apparently an expectation. They wanted us to move into another part of the castle but… they were my parents’ rooms and I… I didn’t think I could bear to have them touched. Not yet. It’s been a long time I suppose, but I don’t think I could ever move into their space.”

“This is…” he looked back at Anna, who was already retreating towards the door that connected her room to his.

He didn’t know what to say, but he did know that even with the short discussion they’d had after lunch, the talk about how he didn’t feel like he belonged, more talking was going to be needed sooner than later. The rest of their day had been spent in a quiet sort of camaraderie as she showed him around the rest of the castle, keeping her hand in his the whole time. They’d had dinner alone, her sister, the Queen, taking her meal in her study. They’d eaten in the private dining room rather than in the formal one, and while they toured the palace and while they dined, they hadn’t talked much, or at least they hadn’t talked about anything that mattered.

He knew the history of some of the paintings and suits of armor and tapestries that decorated the halls, and he at least had something of a sense of where some of the important rooms in the castle were. She’d asked him about the foods he liked and supplied some information about her tastes in return, but they spoke little about her breakdown in the garden, or the fact that he still planned to leave in the morning.

“I’m sure it’s probably not really done in your tastes,” she offered as she opened the door to step into her own room, “But we can take care of that if you’d like. I received a note during dinner from my sister. She assures me that we have a week to get you settled and for us to get acquainted before we must perform any duties as a couple. I have something I need to do quickly, but I believe Kai will be arriving for you shortly as he’s taken it upon himself to be your valet until you can choose one yourself.”

“My…?”

Almost nothing about the things she’d just said made any sense to him, and it must have been evident from the apologetic look she offered him before she stepped through the door and closed it behind her. She’d seemed in a hurry to get away from him for some reason, which confused him as it was in total contrast to the way she’d spent most of the day staying close to him.

He thought about crossing the room, opening the door, and asking her if something was wrong. It was a much more appealing idea than sitting alone in his room to try to piece together what she’d just said to him, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

She deserved her space. He wanted a bit of his own, and he had to respect hers if he wanted his.

***

Anna leaned against the door as soon as it was shut behind her and focused on her breathing. She’d been struggling to feel alright since lunch, to keep up a brave face and to be a good host. She didn’t want to leave him alone, even now, but she needed a moment to calm her thoughts as they swirled in her head.

He doesn’t want to stay here.

He has to stay here and he’s going to try his best.

He wants to be my friend.

I’m the reason he’s stuck here.

It feels strange to be the one closing the door.

She closed her eyes and quieted the voices, focusing instead on recalling the way it had felt for him to hold her when she’d fallen apart earlier. While she hadn’t enjoyed the feeling of going out of control, or the emotional strain that had made it almost impossible to breathe, but the contact had been soothing in a way she hadn’t experienced since she was young. It felt wrong to her than she had made him comfort her when he clearly was under plenty of stress of his own, but the sensation of his hands on her back, pulling her close, the way he’d given her all the time she needed to breath with her head rested on his shoulder, it was not something she thought she’d ever forget.

If she really focused on the memory, she could almost feel his hands on her again. She tried to combine it with the memory of the kiss they’d shared at their wedding, but it just made her flush and open her eyes.

He’s your husband.

And still, to think of that… it’s too much.

Intimacy was something she had never experienced beyond the familial, and even that was a faded memory on the edge of her consciousness. Touching and being touched was something she wanted desperately, and yet felt afraid of in a way. She wondered what the rejection would feel like if she asked for it, to be held, perhaps even to be kissed again. She wondered too, what it would feel like if he accepted because he wanted it too.

She pushed off the door and marched herself over to her armoire, tugging out one of her summer nightgowns and putting it on quickly. She tossed layers off as quickly as she could and then slipped into the comforting light silk of the sleepwear. She didn’t want the assistance of her lady’s maid and while she was fairly certain that Kristoff wouldn’t want that of a valet either, she’d only felt comfortable to speak for herself when she spoke to a servant in the hall on their way to his room after dinner. Besides, she had a feeling that speaking to Kai might help Kristoff in some way she couldn’t explain, maybe just by showing him that he had some legitimacy.

She heard the door open and shut on Kristoff’s room next door, and the muffled sounds of conversation as she crossed the room to her writing desk and sat. She did have something that she needed to do. It hadn’t just been an excuse to breathe.

She dropped the front of the secretary desk with a thud, and pulled a piece of paper from a stack on the upper shelf. She didn’t pull out the ink well until she sat, having on many occasions knocked it to the floor after opening it because she had knocked it while sitting.

There was a stain in one of the floorboards next to her foot as proof.

It was just one of the many charms of the space that made it hers, and as she retrieved the rest of her necessary tools and set to work, she wondered idly if Kristoff would stay long enough to make his mark on the adjoining space.

Or to add his mark to my room too.

***

“My lord, do you require assistance dressing?”

The man who had walked Anna down the aisle at their wedding appeared from the other side of the door, carrying with him a tray. The opening of the door had surprised him, even with Anna’s heads up that he was to be expecting someone.

Kai, she’d said. The head butler, and temporarily his… valet?

“I… no? Why would I?”

The man gave him a confused look for a moment, but then his eyes softened and his expression became almost amused, like he’d just recalled something funny.

“Ah, well, I suppose given you’re not dressed formally you wouldn’t need the assistance. My apologies sir.”

“You don’t have to call me…”

The older man gave him a shake of his head, and Kristoff thought for a moment that he was doing something wrong, until the man closed the door behind him.

“But I do. Everyone must. At least when ears might hear. My apologies for the interruption sir, but I believe we might have much to discuss.”

He lifted the tray a bit higher, then added, “Tea?”

Kristoff wasn’t quite sure of what to be expecting, and while he was still wary of being in the castle at all, let alone with an attendant, he supposed that Anna wouldn’t have left him alone with anyone she didn’t trust. She had been acting oddly, or at least what he thought might be odd given his little knowledge of her normal moods, and yet he had to trust that she at least wouldn’t intentionally put him into any situation he might suffer from.

He had to think so anyway.

“I don’t normally drink tea…”

The butler was quick, and Kristoff could tell that he had spent many years in the service of the crown by how tactfully and speedily he crossed the room with the tray. He set it upon a small table that Kristoff hadn’t even begun to register amongst the furniture and décor of the space. It was like someone had put two of his cabins together in the room, the high ceilings he’d been focused on when the man entered only adding to the effect.

“Akvavit?” he asked, pointing to a decanter also set amongst other bottles and kettles on the tray. There had to be at least three decanters and two pots along with what he presumed were the proper serving ware for each. He wouldn’t really know. He drank his coffee, water and spirits from the same mugs in his cabin.

He mulled over the idea of a stiff drink and found that it was agreeable. He wasn’t a drunkard by any stretch of the imagination, but he did enjoy an occasional drink. Most often glogg or beer, but he wouldn’t turn down the occasional offer of something stronger.

“Just a bit. I don’t like to drink very much, and I won’t drink alone.”

The man seemed pleased to have pegged him on the second try, and nodded.

“Of course, sir. If it’s not too bold of me to say, I’m glad to hear it.”

“It’s not. No one usually minds being bold around me, so you shouldn’t either.”

The man chuckled, a quiet sound as he poured two small glasses of the light-yellow liquid into crystal glasses and gestured to one of the two chairs set around the small table.

As Kristoff approached, he placed one glass before each seat and waited, standing straight-backed, until he sat to do so himself. It struck Kristoff as odd to be treated with such respect, or at least with such pomp. When he’d have drinks with the other ice harvesters it was all bawdy jokes, loud conversation and shoulder bumping.

There was none of that here.

These walls have probably never heard something so loud.

The older man waited for him to sip his drink before he would do the same, but after the first sip, the tension in the air around them seemed to dissipate somewhat. The burn of the drink, the licorice and spice flavors of it, were strangely comforting as the silence between them went from strained to comfortable.

“You should know that I didn’t want this for the Princess,” he told Kristoff in a voice that portrayed a kind and conversational tone, “Lady Anna has been underfoot since she was small, and while my wife and I were never so blessed, I sometimes, and perhaps improperly, think of her like my own.”

It made sense, Kristoff thought. There had been real affection in his manner when he’d walked Anna down the aisle, even if Kristoff only registered it in hindsight.

He nodded, not offended by the man’s words like he could have been. His lack of anger seemed to be expected too by the man.

He’s spent many years reading people and it shows.

“The wants of a butler, or any one person were not accounted for in this decision of course. The kingdom needed a wedding, and so there was one. I have no doubt this was also not the first choice you would have made for your future either sir.”

“It wasn’t. But as you said, ‘the kingdom needed a wedding, and so there was one.’ I didn’t have much choice in the matter, or if I did, no one told me.”

He might have been angrier about it now, knowing that he was trapped in a marriage he’d never wanted, if it weren’t for the fact that he’d held Anna in his arms in the garden. If it weren’t for the fact that he thought that maybe, just maybe, they could be friends and that she was the sort of person that he wanted to support.

“But you’re taken with her, aren’t you?”

Were he a more superstitious man, he may have believed that his mind was being read.

“The Princess…” he began, but then changed his mind, quickly, taking another sip of his drink, before correcting, “I don’t think anyone could meet my wife and not be taken with her.”

It was true. Even behind whatever dark cloud he’d seen looming over her today, there was a radiance about her that captured him. He’d never pretended to be a people person, nor would he call himself one even now, but he thought that maybe he was an Anna person.

As uncomfortable a situation as they’d managed to find themselves in, he felt comfort in her presence, in the way she kept holding his hand and refused to let go. In the way she held her head a little higher when she was passing by staff with him at her side, as if she were trying to exude enough confidence for the both of them. He thought, quietly and to himself, that she was the sort of person he could maybe see himself falling in love with.

Kai seemed to make his mind up about something, taking a drink himself, and finishing the small glass he’d poured, setting it back onto the tray without making a sound. Even his movements when he wasn’t serving were elegant, and Kristoff, with his rough hands and heavy labor muscle memory, wondered how it was possible.

“You should know then that she has not had an easy life. It’s not my place to give you the details, but I will step out of place to ask you to be gentle with her. She’s been betrayed and cheated so many times in her young life that I often wonder how she continues to carry on, let alone to do so with such warmth and kindness. She’s strong, but she needs support now, and it’s the kind that I can’t provide. So my selfish request is that you allow me to prepare you for what comes ahead, if only to protect her from the scrutiny that your marriage will be under.”

Kristoff listened to the man speak and drained his own glass, focusing on the fire as it burnt its way across his tongue, down his throat, and warmed him more than the sun had earlier in the day.

It was a lot to take in.

He knew that Anna had been through something that pained her. Something other than their impromptu wedding that had sent her into the spiral he’d watched in the garden. He wasn’t certain that he could even ask her about it yet, but he did know that despite all logic and reason, he did want her to be okay.

She’s a stranger, and she’s my wife.

If learning more about his role as her husband, and by association his role as prince consort to the crown princess of Arendelle, would help her stay away from those dark places, it was worth it. He had already decided it, from the moment that Kai walked in, he’d known somewhere in the back of his mind exactly what the man was going to ask and exactly how he was going to answer.

“Tell me what I need to do.”

The man smiled and nodded.

“Well, to start, recognize the fact that when in public you’ll be going by your title my lord. They are finalizing the peerage, I believe you’re being given a courtesy title, but regardless you would be addressed as my lord and sir as the spouse of the Princess. Once you accept that, we can move on.”

He took a deep breath and with significantly more clanking, placed his empty glass onto the tray.

“I can do that.”

***

Anna wiped a smudge of ink between her thumb and forefinger, trying to clear away the dark stain on her skin before she knocked on the door into Kristoff’s room.

Kai had gone, she’d heard him leaving, and she might have worried that Kristoff had gone to sleep if it weren’t for the fact that she could see the warm light of candles from the gaps between the door and its casing.

“You can come in Anna,” he called from the other side of the door, “I can hear your pacing.”

She had been pacing, but she flushed at being caught. She almost wanted to tell him to mind his own business for a moment, just because of the embarrassment, but she decided against it.

She needed to talk to him, and also, it had made her giggle a bit to be found out just by footfalls alone.

“Sorry,” she said, pushing the door open, “I just made something for you and I thought it might make sense to give it to you sooner rather than later.”

She held in her hand, a folded piece of parchment that she’d just finished letting the ink dry on. It was not a conventional wedding gift she thought, but they’d never given one another wedding gifts, and she was telling herself that it was better a day late than never.

He was sitting alone at a table in the center of the room when she entered, but then stood to approach her shortly after she started to walk in. She noticed that he seemed happy to see her, that there was a smile on his face and a light in his eyes that was encouraging as they met in the middle of the room.

She proffered him the sheets of parchment in her hands, watching as he looked from her hands to her face and back again.

“I hope it’s not too bold of me to say, but I hope these aren’t divorce papers.”

She wasn’t sure why she smiled, or why he made her laugh by saying something so awful, but as he took them some of the mirth that had left her earlier in the day returned.

“No, I just thought… I threw a lot at you today and I thought I’d write some notes for you, and there’s a couple little maps I drew of how to get to important places. I thought about it and it’s probably hard to remember if you weren’t born here.”

He squinted at the pages, and for a heart stopping moment she had a thought that made heat rise to her cheeks.

Can he read?

Arendelle had universal public schooling. It was something that her father had put into place as a young king, younger than she was now, in order to ensure that his people were educated and could, thereby live better lives. He’d been a good king. Beloved by the people despite many years of absence in the public eye before his death.

It didn’t mean education was compulsory though. Parents could choose whether to send their children or not, and Anna knew precious little about Kristoff’s parents, other than that they’d adopted him when he was young. She also suspected that they lived in the mountains, and while there were some small rural schools, she had no way or knowing whether her husband was educated or not.

“Sorry,” he said, squinting at the paper before handing it back to her for a moment with a flush on his cheeks, his finger pointing to the words you can always ask me for help on the sheet of notes she’d written to him, “What does that one say? I’ve never been very good with reading cursive. I just print everything.”

She flushed, “Sorry, I printed most of it. I don’t have very legible cursive anyway, my tutor hated it. I’m the only one who can ever read it anyway. That was the last thing I wrote and I think I was a little distracted when I wrote it. It just says…”

He leaned over it again, sliding his hand over hers as he lifted the paper a bit higher so they could both see it as she read.

“You can always ask me for help.”

The hand covering hers was warm, sure, like it had been at their wedding. She let her eyes drift closed for a moment, as she took a calming breath and focused on the touch. She’d been holding his hand all day, having him holding hers, even if just for a moment, felt good.

“Well that was convenient, wasn’t it?”

She smiled, “Almost like I planned it.”

He looked at her, and she met his eye. There was a look there that questioned, but then she watched in real time as he realized that she was joking with him. The smile that followed was beaming.

“We need to talk. About a lot of things, but for right now, we need to talk about tomorrow.”

She couldn’t control the way her face fell. She’d spent so many years hiding how she felt, but around Kristoff, when they were alone, she already knew that she wouldn’t be able to hold her feelings back for very long. There was an openness about him and an attentiveness that made her unwilling to hold it back, particularly because she felt like he might be able to see through it anyway.

“Not about anything bad,” he offered quickly, “I just need to go and get some things from my home, talk to my family… I’ll be back.”

She let him take the papers again, dropping her hands to her side and accepting the fact that he was going to go no matter what she said.

“Would you mind if I came with you? I’d like to see your home. I’d like to meet your family.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

“It’s a long trip, but it’s alright if you’d like to come. I can’t promise it would be an exciting trip or anything, and I don’t know whether my family would want…”

He paused, seemingly looking for a better way to phrase what he was saying, but it was already enough for Anna. She’d taken him from his family. They probably didn’t want to meet her, or if they did, they probably wouldn’t like her.

“They’re very private. I’d have to ask them because it’s not my place to bring someone into their home. Even if I want them to meet that person very much.”

She felt some small comfort in that. He wasn’t the sort to lie, that much she already knew. He wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t meant it.

“I’d just go to see them quickly; you could stay at my cabin while I went. The trip would take most of the day and there’s not much to see.”

“It would give us a lot of time to talk,” she said after a moment, “I haven’t left the castle grounds very much, so I think anything would be interesting to me.”

She hoped that she didn’t seem like she was pleading too much. He’d already said that she could come, but he’d qualified it with so many concerns for the trip length and her boredom that she couldn’t help but think that maybe he didn’t want her to come. He wasn’t a liar, but she also thought that he might just be being polite.

“If you say so,” he said with a shrug, “And can’t say I wouldn’t like your company.”

#kristanna #arranged marriage au #A Convenient Arrangement #kristannaadvent2020 #frozen fanfiction

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winterfluffs · 4 years ago

Text

A Chance Meeting

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: All he wanted was a night alone but fate had other plans

Warnings: Fluff. Major fluff.

Word count: 1.9k

Author's notes: I have finally finished something! This has been a very long time coming, so I am super nervous and excited, even a little afraid as no one else has read a thing I've written in 7 years. Maybe longer. Hopefully this isn't too bad! Also, apologies for any improper punctuation. And also for not knowing how to do an undercut as this is kind of long. I'm still new with posting/using the app on my phone.

Bucky Barnes slid on his coat, placed a hat on his head and as quietly as possible, slipped out the front door into the frigid December night air.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy: he had his best friend, close friends who saw him for who he was and not what he was or what he had done, a nice warm place to stay, food in his stomach. Hell, he was an Avenger for Pete's sake. He had come so far from his time in the war, the time where he was brainwashed to be an evil assassin – he knew he should be grateful, and he was – there was just still something missing. How can one man have so much and it be like nothing at all?

The thoughts ran through his mind as he walked through the dark streets; the snow that had started light only minutes ago was now coming down heavier and faster. He had no idea of what time it was, nor did he care. He just had to get out. Clear his head. Maybe force his body to get some sleep after some much-needed fresh air.

Even though he hadn’t been a Russian assassin since Steve Rogers had found him and helped him get back his memory, he still had awful nightmares. Terrors that lasted long through the night and well into the next day. Some so bad they shook him for days on end resulting in him not being able to sleep.

Which was why it was in the middle of the night on December 24th and he was in the middle of the town square staring at the giant Christmas tree in an effort to shake the bad thoughts that crept through his mind.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” a quiet voice came from beside him. Bucky had no will or want to talk to anyone. Especially at whatever ridiculous hour it had been.

Bucky gave the person a slight nod wanting nothing more to be left alone.

That was a downfall of being an Avenger. People always knew who you were, wherever you went, always knew where you’d be, and had always wanted something of you. He loved attention back when he was a kid, even thrived off it, but now that he was older, colder he loved to be left alone.

“I’m so sorry, but – “

“Here it comes.” Bucky thought and turned to the person, ready to put on his act.

“– do you know where this is?” the woman pointed to a map she had out in front of her. “This street, that is.” She shook her head while looking at the map, heavy snowflakes resting in her hair.

“Oh.” He blinked and gave her a curious look. He waited a few more seconds for her to ask him if he was the Winter Soldier, if she could get a date with the Captain America, or have drinks with the Iron Man. When none of those questions came, he was stunned.

The woman was so focused on her map that she had temporarily forgotten about the man standing next to her. Bucky coughed to get her attention. “I am really sorry. I know it is late, it is super cold, and you’re a stranger who probably doesn’t want to be bothered. It’s just I was supposed to be at my parents’ house hours ago. My cab left me stranded on the side of the road when he couldn’t find my house, it started to snow, the streets have been completely empty, and you are the first person I found to ask for directions.”

God she was beautiful Bucky thought to himself while trying to concentrate on her words. His eyes wandered over the women. Long dark hair framed her face perfectly, her cheeks and nose rosy from the cold, her eyes warm and inviting. His stomach tied in knots as she looked at him helplessly.

“This is turning into a really awful Christmas.” She sighed heavily packing the map back into her bag. “I am so, so sorry to have bothered you, sir. Merry Christmas.” She smiled at him within a troubled glance then began to walk away.

“Do, uh, d-do you like hot chocolate?” Bucky stammered calling out to her back. He kicked himself for being so awkward, so troubled that he doubted himself in his ability to communicate with people.

“Sorry?” the woman turned around unsure if she heard him correctly.

“Hot chocolate. It is freezing out here and from the sound of it, you’ve been walking around out here for a pretty long time. Would you…want to go get a hot chocolate? Warm up a little?”

“It’s 12:45 in the morning.”

“I know a great little diner that’s open 24 hours. Best hot cocoa in the surrounding area.”

She smiled thankfully unsure as to why she couldn’t get enough of the quiet dark-haired man. “I would absolutely love a hot chocolate. Possibly some pancakes, too.”

“I don’t know about pancakes, but they have the best French toast I have ever had.” Bucky smiled as he made his way over to her, needing more time with her.

“Even better.”

-----

“Oh my God you weren’t kidding!” she moaned as she let the melted cinnamony, buttery, eggy goodness slide down her throat. Bucky laughed as she took another bit, moaning louder as she chewed. “These are to DIE for.”

Bucky smiled as he watched her eat, a calmness coming over him that he hadn’t felt in an exceedingly long time. Like he was supposed to be here. With her. Like tonight wasn’t just a chance meeting between two strangers. He thanked his lucky stars that she didn’t take him for a dangerous person, even though deep down he knew differently.

“Thank you.” She looked at him her eyes locking onto his. “For all of this. My parents and siblings only just moved here a few months ago and this is my first time to visit. Mom thought she gave good directions but….” She pointed around in reference to her being lost in a diner with a random stranger at some crazy time in the morning. “Anyway, I really appreciate it.”

“Glad to be of service.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling on the sides. Bucky couldn’t remember a time when he felt this relaxed, this calm, this happy. He and mystery woman spent over two hours in the diner talking; about anything, everything, and nothing at all. He was happy to be in her presence, to make her laugh, to make her forget her worries for a little. It was only then that Bucky realized she did the same for him, too.

Since he laid eyes on this woman, he felt lighter; forgetting his troubles, forgetting the reason why he was awake at 2:45 A.M. on Christmas morning instead of asleep in his bed. She made him laugh. Laugh like he hadn’t laughed since the 40's, before the war, before the training, before the brainwashing, before the fighting, before the blood.

And he felt free.

He didn’t have to be Steve Rogers’s best friend, he didn’t have to be the Winter Soldier, he didn’t have to be an Avenger, he didn’t have to put up a wall he did when people got too close.

He was just James Barnes. It was a feeling he never wanted to forget.

-----

“Do you want me to call a taxi for you?” Bucky looked around. The snow was coming even faster now, a good four or five inches already on the ground with no looks of stopping any time soon.

“No…I’ll have to think of something.” She shrugged. “Can’t be too far off, right?”

“I know this is going to sound really crazy but hear me out: I live right around the corner. You could stay a little, warm up and dry off in front of the fire, maybe have some more hot cocoa, hot tea if you’d prefer. And if you’d like, once you’re ready, I can drive you to your parents’ house. Or call you a cab.”

“I don’t even know your name.” she laughed blushing slightly. Or maybe it was the cold. What Bucky knew was that it made her even more adorable than she already was.

“I go by Bucky…. but my first name is James.”

“James…” she smiled taking his hand in hers. “[name].”

“Now that we officially know each other, what do ya say?” God he would do anything to spend more time with her, to know her inside and out. To spend the rest of his life making her happy, knowing he was the reason behind her bright smile.

“Fine. But only because I am still frozen solid and would love another cup of something hot.” She smiled that bright smile again. The smile that Bucky couldn’t get enough of. The bright smile that was now aimed at him. He was the reason for that smile. The thought made Bucky’s stomach turn and his chest tighten; the need of wanting and not knowing of what could be lingered in the air.

“Bucky, I want to thank you.” He froze at the mention of his name, the sound going straight to his heart.

“If you hadn’t stop to help….” She trailed off with a distant look in her eye. Bucky pulled her in for a hug feeling her sigh into his embrace. He moved the hair from her face, him finding himself lost yet again in her eyes.

Without thinking, Bucky gently placed his lips on hers smiling into the kiss when she instantly kissed him back.

“Don’t think either of us thought this is how our Christmas would start.” She laughed making Bucky laugh as well.

“No. But I know I am definitely not complaining.” His eyes crinkled when he laughed, something [name] found adorable and charming; she knew she was teetering on dangerous territory, yet she couldn’t get enough. Didn’t ever want to get enough.

He pulled her in closer, his lips hovering above hers. “This might be way too soon, but I think I’m falling really hard for you.”

“Funny you should say that – I was just thinking the same thing.”

Bucky’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Having gone from being utterly miserable to meeting the woman of his dreams in one night was a story that no one would believe. He wouldn’t even believe it if someone had said it to him. Yet, as he and [name] stood together in the falling snow, [name] happily in his arms, kissing him like he had never been kissed before, Bucky couldn’t get enough. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to fight off the pure happiness he felt.

“Let’s get out of here before we freeze to death.” He gave her a crooked smile and held her tightly as they walked the short distance to his house.

---

“Still cold?”

[Name] nodded her head, scooting over into Bucky’s embrace when he motioned for her to come closer. She sighed at the warmth of his body really relaxing for the first time since her trip began. She knew she was crazy being in a stranger’s home, cuddled up in front of a fire with a man she barely knew. Her mom would surely go crazy if she ever found out. Yet, she didn’t care.

All that mattered was her and him.

Together.

And that’s the way she hoped it would be.

Forever.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Barnes #WinterFluffs #Christmas prompt #A Chance Meeting #Please don't let this suck #Bucky Barnes drabble

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nervousladytraveler · 4 years ago

Text

🥰👀🥰

end of year WIP meme!

send me a 👀 and i’ll post a snippet of art/writing that i never got around to finishing this year (r.i.p)

Thanks @juicybeatles for the ask.

This bit is another modern Poldark AU. I won’t say anything else about it other than it is wholly unfinished and takes place around Christmas. If the Poldark fandom is still alive on tumblr in December 2021, I’ll post the rest (promises, promises...).

Happy New Year Everyone!

---

A Rose in December

They’d been talking for hours.

And in that time the pub had transformed itself more than once. Eerily quiet in the late afternoon, when they’d been the sole patrons in the place, then a round five o’clock someone began playing some crooning Frank Sinatra. That lasted until the after-work horde filed in, then Old Blue Eyes morphed to overly cheerful Christmas music with far too many bells. Now it was loud and crowded and would grow even more so as the night wore on. Everyone seemed to have a heightened celebratory edge as they moved closer to the holiday and a few days off.

Ross noticed she hadn’t raised her voice to be heard over the raucous. Perhaps that was deliberate? He had to lean closer to hear her.

“You know I hate the dark spicy shite breweries put out for winter. Pumpkin and clove and cinnamon--it’s disgusting. I don't want to drink my pudding and if I want mulled wine, I’ll make mulled wine,” she tried to make a disgusted face but couldn’t help laughing at her own joke. Her teeth gleamed white and her lips were inviting but it was her eyes--her bright and smiling eyes--that he found so compelling.

Ross laughed too. He noticed they were coming easier now and from deeper in his gut. With each chuckle out, a deep breath was drawn in. A new breath. He remembered this feeling. But he didn’t shy away from the familiarity. Instead he wanted to move further into it. That feeling of coming home and knowing you can open all the doors--to any room.

---

Ross woke to a blinding morning light coming in through the east-facing window behind him. It was a cold, relentless light--the kind usually found in January, reflecting off the vast expanses of frozen snow. December sunlight was supposed to be softer, more muted. But maybe it was the last night’s drink that was making his eyes so sensitive now.

He sat up and tried turning a stiff neck then stretched his arms above him. He laughed--he hadn’t had aches like these in some time.

He knew he’d be alone--that wasn’t a surprise--but he was struck by how comfortable he felt in her room after only a few hours.

Someone once told him that beds shouldn't be placed against a window--it was bad feng shui, she’d said--but it worked well in this space. There was no headboard only the long white curtains that mingled with the white bed clothes. A tall bookcase--also white--stretched nearly to the ceiling and was stuffed with all manner of books. Some smaller ones were stacked sideways, two deep on the shelf, to make room for as many as possible; piles of overflow books stood on either side. A stuffed armchair that delicately walked the line between antique and rubbish was covered with clothes. It wasn’t untidy, just lived in, inhabited by a body whose mind was perhaps occupied by other things.

On the mirror at the dresser someone had stuck a note.

Someone.

He pulled on his trousers and managed to shuffle the few feet without stumbling or finding himself unstable. That was a good sign.

“Ross--Despite your *best* efforts to keep me busy all night, I somehow managed to get up on time! I think it must be a Christmas miracle. I don’t dare wake you--I think you earned your sleep ;) I have to get to work but if the invitation is still good--and not just a drunken impulse--then I’ll come by your place tonight when my shift ends. Ring me if plans change. Last night was lovely.”

He laughed. It wasn't the drink that had inspired him to invite her over to spend Christmas with him but he had been intoxicated all the same--by her. After hours in her company, in her bed, and so close to her skin. He considered climbing back under the covers so he might find her scent lingering on a pillow.

Yes, inviting her to Christmas had been impulsive. But so was spending the night with her. Technically he’d only just met her that day.

Ross had no regrets. And he was heartened by the tone of her note. It meant he’d be seeing her again soon.

He looked around at the other items on the dresser. A cosmetic case, crammed full of brushes and eye palettes. A hairbrush with long red hairs sticking out of the bristles. An empty eyeglass case--did she wear glasses? Apparently so. A few photographs of herself when she was younger were tucked in the mirror frame. The other people in them must have remained important to her these many years later.

He suddenly felt he was prying and turned away at once. He grabbed up his shirt and went in search of the toilet.

---

“Morning,” a deep voice said without turning from the stove.

“Um, yes, good morning.” Ross tried not to mumble but realised his mouth was dry. He also thought he could taste her on his lips; he tried not to panic at the memory of such pleasure.

“Coffee?” the young man asked then placed a mug on the table in front of an empty chair without waiting for Ross’s response.

“Thank you,” Ross said and after a moment’s pause took a seat. It would definitely be rude to take the coffee and go back to bed.

“I’m frying eggs. Can I make you one too?” Was this man familiar with the routine of entertaining her abandoned guests the morning after?

“Yes, please. I’m Ross Poldark. You live here?” It sounded warmer and more conversational in his head.

“I know you, Ross. We met years ago but I suppose you don’t remember. I’m Sam.” Now Ross saw the resemblance in the eyes, the smile. He also saw the gold cross around the young man’s neck.

Good god, that’s right, he remembered now. She’d said she shared a flat with her brother but didn’t mention it was the religious one. He took a gulp of coffee hoping Sam hadn’t heard what went on behind the bedroom door just hours before.

“Melz said she was going to your place tonight for Christmas,” Sam said as he went back to cracking eggs with expert efficiency.

Melz--a family nickname but not one he’d ever used with her.

“Yes, I’m happy Demelza agreed to come. You should join us.” Another impulsive invitation. And this time it was followed with regret.

“Thank you but no,” Sam said. “We’ve mission work. It’s an important night for us.”

Of course take advantage of the sad and down trodden on the loneliest day of the year in your conversion efforts. That seems fair. He was glad Sam’s back was turned again so he wouldn’t see the undisguised disgust on Ross’s face.

“Last year we fed over 300! In one night,” Sam continued.

Shame spread through Ross’s gut. At least Sam was doing something to help those in need. Who was Ross to be so judgmental?

“Congratulations,” he mumbled. Was that the proper response? He suddenly was feeling less and less certain of himself, of his place, of what he thought he knew about her, and what he now saw he didn’t. “Does Demelza help you...in your work?” he asked tentatively.

“No, she’s too busy and it’s...not really her thing,” Sam laughed then grew serious again.

Ross wished Demelza was there to shepherd him through this conversation. She seemed to know how to frame things so the world made sense. He wasn’t sure what to say to her brother now and grew desperate to push away images from last night that flashed across his memory.

Her face, her body was so lovely as she leaned over him in her moonlit bed. Her voice soft and low yet rich as she purred his name: Ross, Ross.

“Sister works hard, long hours. She deserves to enjoy herself now and then,” Sam slipped an egg onto a plate for Ross, then fumbled to find a clean fork. “It’s nice to see her happy again.”

#WIP not RIP #poldark fanfic #poldark modern au #how long is a snippet?

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fific7 · 4 years ago

Text

Something Blue

Sirius Black x Reader

@omgrachwrites 500 Follower Celebration

AU prompt: Arranged Marriage

Summary: Sirius is not going to agree to this. At all.

Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of parental child abuse, Smut Lite but maybe 18+ just in case. The age of consent is 16 in the UK, sorry if that’s not in line with your own country’s/state’s laws.

A/N: Sorry for the child abuse but we all know what darling Walburga’s parenting goals were. This is mainly non-canon, my imaginary HP AU.

(my GIF)

Sirius Black leapt up out of his chair, knocking over his ornate crystal glass as he did so.

“NO! NO, NO, NOOOOO!!! I will not agree, I will never agree!! I’m not a piece of meat to be auctioned off to the highest bidder!”

His younger brother looked as if he was trying to disappear beneath the fancy lace-edged tablecloth. But it wouldn’t budge to the side enough for Regulus to slip under it.

His father leant back in his seat, sipping from his wineglass, all the while contemplating his eldest son, an ambiguous expression on his aristocratic face. Sirius looked like a mini-me of Orion, except without the silver-grey hair at his temples.

His mother. Well.... his mother. Her face looked like a dragon’s might as it built up to unleashing a huge tongue of flame onto an unwary passerby. Only scarier. Much, much scarier.

Sirius didn’t want to hear what she had to say - or rather scream. He turned on his heel and started barging clumsily out of the huge dining room. Before he could reach the door however, her shrill voice rang out, bringing him to a halt involuntarily.

“SIRIUS ORION BLACK! Return to this table NOW! Who gave you permission to leave the room??!! We haven’t finished discussing your marriage!”

He hesitated for a moment, but then resolutely continued walking to the door. But yet again he didn’t reach it. A long string of stinging spells hit him, making him cry out and drop to the floor.

His mother glided across the room, and stood over him. “Get up, you weasel! Miserable little whelp!” He couldn’t move. Another round of the same spells hit him. He twisted in pain, curling up into a foetal position to try and protect himself.

“Walburga!” his father’s deep voice rang out. “That’s enough. Sirius - get to your room! I’ll speak to you later, boy!”

Sirius hid under his quilt, still in pain from the quantity and strength of the stinging spells inflicted on him. He only had a month of the summer holidays left before he returned to Hogwarts for his 6th year. He sobbed quietly. 30 days of torture to endure. How was he to survive it?

******************************************

Sitting on the Gryffindor common room sofas with her friends & dorm-mates Lily & Mary, Y/N Y/L/N eagerly caught up with all their gossip from the summer holidays. That’s what first day back at school was meant for, after all.

They were even more eager to hear all about her holidays. She came from one of the old pureblood wizarding families, and they’d taken her and her younger brother to the South of France for a month.

They ooh’d and ahh’d at her descriptions of the palm trees, the beaches, the sunny weather, the French couture, the tedious formal balls she’d had to attend. She’d rolled her eyes as she described all the handsome but crushingly boring French wizards she’d had to make small talk with. And then there was the matter of....

Their chat was rudely interrupted by 4 teenage boys hustling into the common room, noisily and boisterously talking to each other. They were collectively known as The Marauders.

James Potter made a beeline for Lily, leaping athletically over the back of the couch she was sitting on and landing right next to her. “My Lilyflower!” he yelled, flinging an arm over her shoulders.

Like clockwork, she threw off his arm, scowling at him & snarling, “Get lost, Potter!”

Y/N and Mary grinned at each other, caught by Lily and also getting a glare from her.

The other boys also squeezed onto the couches, Sirius Black next to Y/N, Remus and Peter on either side of Mary.

“Hi, guys,” said Y/N, “how were your holidays?”

And so their summer stories were quickly added to the gossip pot, except that Sirius just mumbled, “Was okay,” and nothing else.

Y/N watched him, worried. She knew only too well what his parents were like. She guessed he probably didn’t have the best of summers. She’d speak to him later on.

*******************************************

She lay in her bed that night, thinking about Sirius. They’d always been good friends, ever since kindergarten, as their families moved in the same social circles. But they genuinely liked each other, it wasn’t just the family/same circle thing. Amongst other things, they shared the same view about the whole pureblood scenario and loved the same kind of music.

He’d admitted to her that this summer had been the worst yet. She’d hugged him to her, giving him all the silent support and comfort she could. They had sat there by the fire in the common room for hours, both shedding a few tears.

But they’d discovered one surprising thing in common; both sets of parents had announced that they were currently arranging marriages for their eldest children.

The next evening, Y/N and Sirius had a very satisfying venting session about the (in their eyes) antiquated tradition. But their parents were determined to continue with it. And that meant they had no choice but to follow their parents’ wishes.

Neither of them knew who their “intendeds” were to be yet, as negotiations between all the interested parties were still ongoing.

Y/N had been pondering on that, quite a lot in fact - throwing out every unattached pureblood name she could think of. Sirius had eventually snorted and declared that he didn’t give a damn, as he wouldn’t be consummating his marriage.

“Sirius!” squealed Y/N, “that’s the whole idea of getting married!”

He shrugged, “Don’t care. I’m not doing it and fuck the lot of them!”

“Apart from your wife!” sniggered Y/N, and Sirius joined in her laughter.

One evening in the common room, while cuddling each other on the couch, Y/N laughingly said to Sirius, “Wouldn’t it be a riot if they matched us two?” and both had then descended into fits of giggles.

“Bloody cattle market,” grumbled Sirius, “it’s ridiculous. We’re still almost children ourselves.”

Because what they did know, was that they’d be married off shortly after their 16th birthdays.

The pureblood wizarding world wanted a lot more little wizards & witches running around as soon as possible, so the more usual matrimonial ages of 17 or 18 had been pulled back to facilitate this.

Sirius’ birthday was in early November, while Y/N’s was in early December. It was still September, so they still had a couple of months of freedom left.

********************************************

Their friends were totally shocked when told about the arranged marriages, not understanding the tradition and culture behind it. But they tried to be as supportive as possible.

Lily and Mary went on several wedding dress shopping trips with Y/N, as her parents had agreed that she could choose her own outfit. Finally she found a figure-hugging ivory column dress with a long train, and a simple veil attached to a tiny tiara. The dress was tastefully cut, with a low - but not too low - sweetheart neckline.

With a matching pair of high-heeled satin court shoes, Y/N looked elegant and beautiful. She was really pleased with her choice, and didn’t give one thought to what her husband-to-be would think. How could she, when he was a faceless unknown entity? She put the outfit in its garment bag and stowed it safely away at the back of her wardrobe.

Sirius and Y/N bonded even more over the predicament they found themselves in, whispering and gossiping in corners about it.

“Well, I’m just going to act like the royalty I am, and have lots of side girls,” declared Sirius.

Y/N burst out laughing, “Sirius! You’re such a colossal drama queen!”

“Huh!” he huffed, “and what if I am? The whole thing’s a complete farce!!!”

*********************************************

Nothing was heard from either set of parents by mid-October, and Y/N & Sirius were hoping that they’d been unsuccessful in arranging any matches yet. After all, the formal engagement shenanigans still had to take place before the actual weddings.

However, neither of them had been able to resist whining to their families at every possible opportunity about the whole idea. It was only too apparent to everyone that it was still a very unwelcome plan to both teenagers.

Not that it bothered the families in the slightest. Each complaint washed over them, ignored, like waves running over the sand with each turning of the tide.

Sirius’ birthday came and went. Nothing. Nada. Radio silence. Y/N looked gleefully at Sirius, “You might’ve escaped it, you lucky devil!”

He grinned back, “Hey, don’t jinx it, Y/N!”

*********************************************

But it seemed she had jinxed it.

Two days before Y/N’s birthday in early December, Sirius vanished from Hogwarts. No-one seemed to know where he’d gone, but Y/N had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

She was certain that her lifelong friend was going to be an engaged man when he returned. And very shortly thereafter, a married man.

How would she deal with that? It was such an alien concept.

Would his wife have to come and live with him at Hogwarts? What if she was horrible and didn’t fit in with their friendship group? She sincerely hoped she wasn’t an awful person, but some of those pureblood girls...!! Hellish!!!

But what if she monopolised his time & didn’t even want him to hang out with his friends at all?

She was very worried that her friendship with Sirius would never be the same.

Oh well, probably not all that long to go until she found out the answers - good or bad.

She didn’t really think about how Sirius would react once she was married, too.

********************************************

The day after her birthday, Y/N was summoned to Dumbledore’s office.

Her stomach knotted and her hungover (birthday party) head throbbed even more. What could she possibly be in trouble for? It must be something big, otherwise surely a telling-off from McGonagall would have sufficed?

It turned out that her parents had sent for her, and they were in Paris! Her heart sank. Damn! They’d found a fiancé for her, and she was obviously expected to go and meet him, possibly even become engaged to him as soon as they met.

She wondered if it would be one of those boring boys she’d met over the summer. Her family hadn’t holidayed in France for a while prior to that, and now she wondered if the real reason had been for her parents to check out some potential fiancés for her.

She groaned.

Dumbledore gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m guessing from that groan that you’ve got an idea what this is about? I’m not going to comment at length on pureblood traditions, but I will say this - it seems to be happening very quickly, and you are still so young....” He sighed.

He reached out and handed her a small metal trinket box, which had been sitting on the corner of his desk. “Two minutes,” he warned, and once the time had passed, Y/N disappeared with a swirl, landing in a very elegant hotel room in Paris, on the Champs Elysee.

********************************************

“WHAT??!!! she screeched at her mother. “No! I will not!!!”

“Y/N, you will. We decided that an engagement was not required, as they are a useless waste of time & money. This way, you will begin your married life immediately.”

Y/N stomped over to her bed and threw herself onto it. “Just so I can get pregnant sooner, huh?! Well, no..... I won’t do it!”

Her father came into the room, frowning deeply at her temper tantrum. He spoke to her sternly.

“Your wedding dress will be delivered to the room in 15 minutes, young lady. It’s being steamed at the moment. As soon as it gets here, you will put it on and I’ll take you down immediately to the ballroom for the ceremony.”

Y/N burst into tears. “Father, I haven’t even seen or met him!! How can you expect me to marry him today?!”

“That’s exactly it, Y/N. It is what’s expected of you, to carry on the pureblood line. They are a noble family and it’s a very advantageous match. I am sure you will like him.”

*********************************************

Her father had more or less dragged her into the ballroom.

There were a few rows of chairs, covered in ivory silk and set in a crescent shape round a flower-covered altar. Some French purebloods were already seated on them, along with family members.

The celebrant watched Y/N being coaxed and prodded up the aisle by her father. Merlin, what a couple these two were going to make, he thought, frowning slightly as he looked down at the sulky male face and crossed arms in front of him.

Y/N was shoved next to her bridegroom eventually, and she cast a sideways glance at him. He picked the same moment to scowl over at her.

Everyones’ heads in the room snapped up as both Y/N and the groom cracked up in hysterical laughter.

Given the relatively small pool of suitable matches, some would say it was quite predictable that Y/N and Sirius would end up standing beside each other at the altar.

**********************************************

Much later that evening, Sirius & Y/N locked the door to their honeymoon suite.

They’d changed into more relaxed clothes before the reception, and Y/N began to pack away her wedding dress and accessories, which she’d left on the bed earlier.

Sirius was hovering. It was the only way Y/N could describe it. He paced from the french windows which led out to onto a large balcony, to the small lounge area, to the en-suite. And back. And again, his long legs carrying him there and back in a few moments, over & over.

“Sirius.... you’re going to wear a path in that carpet with all your pacing back and forward.”

She heard him clear his throat, gulping a bit, so she turned to him.

“Please... just sit down for a minute.”

He sighed, then plopped down onto a chaise longue. He put his head in his hands.

“Y/N.... I’m so nervous.”

She sat next to him. “Why?”

“We’ve been like brother and sister all the time we’ve known each other! And now... well, you know....” he looked up at her, looking so worried that she immediately hugged him. He tensed up as she put her arms round him, so she stroked his cheek gently.

“Sirius, it’ll be fine. Just fucking relax, please, will you!”

He leapt up. “Why are you so CALM!!” he yelled.

He marched over to the en-suite, going in and slamming the door.

Y/N sighed and rolled her eyes. She was well aware that she was now hitched to a king-size drama queen, but Sirius was handling this a lot worse than she’d expected.

She went back to packing her wedding clothes away. She was beginning to get a bit annoyed with him, because after all - she was in exactly the same position. But he seemed to have lost sight of that, steeped in his own insecurities. Didn’t he wonder how she might feel, having to sleep with her “brother”?

She wasn’t blind - she’d always found Sirius very attractive, he was a very handsome, sexy boy. But she had violently pushed away any erotic thoughts of him, precisely because of their sibling-like day to day relationship. And she was sure he didn’t think of her in any other way, judging by the number of girls he’d flirted with and snogged (and more?) during his 4th & 5th years at Hogwarts.

An hour later, Sirius was still locked in the bathroom. Y/N left him to stew.

She finished packing up all her things, then changed into the ridiculous nightgown her mother had insisted she wear on her wedding night.

She thought that her mother must be stuck back in the Victorian era, as she regarded the floor-length, white, floaty piece of nonsense she was wearing. Wasn’t this what they called a passion-killer in Muggle novels? Although it was quite see-through, now that she looked closer.

She lay down on the massively deep and comfortable quilt, picking up her book and beginning to read. Not what she’d envisaged doing on her wedding night. She huffed to herself; it looked like Sirius was following through on his threat not to consummate the marriage.

After another hour or so, her eyes started fluttering closed as she began dozing off. She jumped a little as she heard the bathroom door open. She leant up, on her elbows.

Sirius edged slowly into the main room. He was naked as the day he was born, but shyly covering himself with both hands. He stared at her at she lay on the bed.

“I...” he gulped, “I’ve... never slept with anyone before,” mumbling down into his chest, not looking at her. That took her by surprise. Judging by the standard hallway gossip, Sirius had slept with half the school. “Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. Then she spoke up again, “Well, neither have I.”

He suddenly met her eyes. “Thought you might like to get a look at the goods before we have sex.”

“So we’re having sex, then?” she questioned him.

“We have to, don’t we?” he replied, “We’ve got to make babies, and soon, or else we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“How romantic, Sirius.”

“Just being realistic. You were the one who told me I had to consummate my marriage, who said that was the whole point of getting married.”

He dropped his hands down to his sides.

Her eyes raked over his tall, slim, athletic body, lingering on what was between his legs. It was - a lot bigger - than she’d been expecting, and he didn’t even have a hard-on yet. He had more body hair than she’d guessed too, studying the smattering of hair on his chest, and the line of dark hair leading downwards from his navel. Her eyes roamed back up to meet his.

“Why, Sirius, I’m impressed. Who knew what was lurking under those worn-out jeans of yours?”

He gave her an uncomfortable smile, but walked to the bed, clambering onto it one knee at a time and lying down next to her. He moved his body half over the top of hers, and looked down at her, lying underneath him. He reached right down to the hem of her nightgown and pulled it up slowly, watching, fascinated, as her body was fully revealed to him. He gently tugged the gown over her head, dropping it to the floor.

His breath caught in his throat, and she could hear him beginning to breathe more quickly, more deeply. He reached out a tentative hand and ran it over her stomach and onto her breasts, palming her nipples and making her breath catch too.

Suddenly his mouth was on hers, kissing her hungrily until she pushed him away to gasp some air into her lungs. He lay fully on top of her, running his hands desperately over every inch of her body, starting to pant as he did so. She was returning the favour, beginning to learn the contours of his lightly muscled torso.

She felt his lips next to her ear. “You’re beautiful. Perfect. Gorgeous.” He smiled down at her. “I never let myself think of you and me being together like this, Y/N, cos I never thought it’d happen.”

He kissed her again, trailing his lips down her neck and onto her collarbone, placing small kisses all along it. She could now feel how aroused he was, his erection pressing insistently against her thigh.

“And now we’re married, that is how it’s gonna be. I can have you in my bed every night, love you where and whenever I want. I can’t believe my luck.” He laughed, a low, self-deprecating sound. “I might’ve told myself that I loved you in a brotherly way, but clearly.... you now know that’s not the case.”

“Hmmm,” Y/N pondered, “I think you may have a point. I think I might’ve been mirroring your thoughts, Sirius.”

“So.... does this mean we’re now saying we’re dedicated fans of arranged marriages?”

They both laughed.

He kissed her deeply, sensually sliding his tongue into her mouth. She kissed him back, the kisses growing gradually more and more passionate.

Eventually Sirius stuttered, “Y/N! I... I think... I’m gonna...”

Y/N looked up at her handsome husband and pulled his head down to hers for a kiss. She took him into her arms and pulled his hips against hers.

“C’mon, Sirius, let’s explore these pastures new together,” she whispered to him.

He nodded, “Yes... let’s, love,” thumb brushing over her bottom lip, up and onto her cheekbone.

*********************************************

Sunlight streaming through the french windows woke them the next morning.

They were still tangled up together, and it felt good, felt so right.

The two of them gazed into each other’s eyes in the golden early morning light. The smiles on both of their faces were as bright as that sun.

He stroked a strand of hair off her cheek, she ran her fingers over his strong jawline.

The first of many, many such mornings.

*********************************************

#sirius black x reader #ben barnes #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years ago

Text

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 13: SNAFU

Characters: Captain Syverson, various original minor/supporting characters.

Summary: Sy has some time to think about his past, present, and future while roughing it in the Virginia wilderness which leads him to a revelation about what he really wants…but is it too late?

Need to start from the beginning? Miss an update because Tumblr? Click me!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mild language, mature themes, military and weapon terminology, discussion, and use. (For those who don’t know, SNAFU is a term coined in the military. It’s an acronym for “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” And since this is from Sy’s perspective, I thought a military term, as opposed to a therapy term would be appropriate.)

Author’s Note: Despite this being the longest chapter, clocking in at almost 5k, it was one of the easiest to write, and came the quickest. I love writing from Sy’s perspective, and the pure love he has for Shane. I’m hoping to be able to write a bit more of his POV before the story is complete. We’ll see. I apologize if it seems like one long rant about Sy’s feelings…I guess that’s what it is, with various activities peppered in. He can be a sensitive guy, and I wanted to show that.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy was no whimp. That much was certain. Missouri winters had toughened him up more than most men in his battalion and most of the participants in the training he was currently undertaking.

But it was more than that. Sy was uniquely prepared for the elements. He remembered a particularly harsh December night during Christmas break, before he joined the service when he was home alone and had to let the dog out. Fool that he was, he wore no shoes. Greater fool, he'd allowed the door to the back yard to close…and unfortunately, it had a tendency to lock. Which it did. He tried fruitlessly for a while to break back in, but being without a cell phone, he knew he'd have to walk a good distance for help with the lock.

He slipped out the gate and started up to the road, to follow it to his grandparents a few miles away. The county road wasn't the best kind for walking, particularly barefoot in the late fall, but his feet were soon too numb to feel the gravel and whatever else was lacerating the soles of his feet. After about an hour, he made it there, shivering, knocking frantically and waking his frail old grandparents up to rescue him from his own negligence. He'd regret that until the day he died. Not that they were angry about it. They shrugged it off. His grandma cleaned the blood and dirt from his feet and bandaged the shallowed abrasions. They didn't look too bad, considering the area they lived in and the trash that could have been waiting to carve him up. Then she set about cleaning up Sy's messy footprints from her normally immaculate floor. Grandpa looked all over for their spare keys to Sy's and his mom's house, and finally found them. He lent him a pair of shoes, drove him back home, and let him in the house. After that, Sy found himself eager to spend time outdoors during colder weather. As if determined to build up a tolerance to it in case he ever found himself in such a situation again.

Now, despite the time of year being only late August, it was unseasonably cool, especially at night, as if Christmas was right around the corner, and Sy was wishing more and more that he had someone to cuddle with during the nights he'd be doing cross country training here at the beautiful Shenandoah National Park. He had packed only the essentials for the expedition, a mess kit, bed roll, canteen, modest rations, first aid supplies, et cetera, plus a rope and a tarp for building a shelter. On his person, he had a compass, a topographical map of the park with checkpoints indicated, waterproof, strike-anywhere matches, a hunting knife, a tactical knife, an M17 pistol, and three .9mm clips. He was also given a flare gun to use in case he got stuck for any reason and needed extraction.

On his first night in the wilderness, he'd taken a lot of time falling asleep. Thinking.

He thought about his last week at home. He wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were doing with Aika. Shane had offered to watch her, and he considered it. He had appreciated her eagerness to help after her…less than enthusiastic response to hearing about this trip. But he decided since Aika had a close relationship already with Fred and Caroline, and she was still getting to know Shane, they'd better be the ones to take her. She understood, and had offered the second reason that since she worked so much, she wouldn't be able to give her the kind of attention she was used to. That had made a lot of sense. He felt like kind of a bad dog parent for not thinking of it, himself.

He thought about the week he'd been here already at the compound. His first day filling out paperwork, he was asked for an emergency contact. He was used to putting his mom…but she wasn't in the best of health, herself. He had nobody. Nobody but Shane. He put her down, instead of his mom. He thought about the seminars on company approved methods of subduing and detaining targets and combatants. He should have taught Shane some self-defense moves before he left. She could handle herself, and she'd proven so, but still. A refresher, or an advancement on one's skills was always a good idea. But he was sure she'd be fine. He thought about her the most in the torturous policy and procedure lecture. What he wouldn't'a given to have her here with him. She would have made everything fun. And she would have been a way better study partner than Keith. Keith, a Navy vet from Little Rock was a good guy…he just…didn't get Sy's jokes. He was a very literal kind of thinker, and it took extra effort for Sy to communicate with folks like that.

Shane, though…he and Shane wouldn't have gotten too much done, study-wise. They would have been…distracted.

As he hiked along the trails to his first checkpoint, he breathed in the clean, crisp air and stopped at the odd overlook here and there. The park was nestled on the outer edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and they were too gorgeous not to appreciate while he was here. He found himself…uniquely emotional. He didn't feel lonely often, but since he'd met Shane, he'd hardly gone two days without seeing her, even if it was for just an hour. She'd love all of this. She'd probably want a tent, and coffee in the mornings, so they wouldn't be able to travel quite as light, but they'd make it work. Maybe one day they'd take a trip like this. Just for fun. No checkpoints. No deadlines. No semi-automatic weapons…well, honestly, he'd probably still bring a gun, anyway. You never did know about people these days, he thought. Of course, that's probably what people think of me carrying a pistol, he also thought…anyway, he was almost to the checkpoint.

Said checkpoint was a big tent, like the ones they sold fireworks out of leading up to Fourth of July. Inside there was a single lane shooting range set up down one half of the tent. On the other half, there were stations set up with dismantled weapons that you had to assemble in a certain amount of time. Someone had beaten him to the range, so he started with the guns. No problems whatsoever. He was familiar more or less with all of the models, or some version of them. When the previous participant, a small blonde woman, had finished on the range, Sy stepped up to the counter.

The attendant reset the target for Sy so he could do a close range shot, then again for mid and long range ones. He shot well, although he still wasn't used to the lighter weight of the SIG Sauer M17s the armed forces switched to back in 2017. They'd offered him an M18 at the compound, but he favored the heaver pistol, instead. Maybe the M18 was more packable, but Sy just didn't feel right firing a weapon that felt like a feather in his hand. If it was up to him, he'd take a Colt Python .357 Magnum Revolver. That, however, was more than just a question of how the firearm felt in his hand. Being out in the wilderness like this made him think back to how it must have been before these lands became civilized and gentrified. Back to the days of the cowboy, Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. Back when it was just the wild and free land he could pretend it was now. He thanked the attendant, who was writing his name on his targets to take back to the compound along with his graded weapon assembly timesheets, and then was back on his way.

There was an eerie beauty about this unsullied land, he thought, as the dusk fell the second night of the excursion and he began setting up his camp about halfway between the first and second checkpoints, by his estimation. With his fire built and his shelter up, Sy took out some of his rations, cured meat, hard cheese, and some walnuts, and had a light supper before cleaning his gun and turning in while the ground still held some heat from the waning sun, wishing again as the cold set in that his woman was there to warm him.

His sleep was fitful. And he awoke before dawn, from dreams he couldn't remember but which still left him feeling empty. They must have been about her. He was starting to feel regret. The last time he'd seen Shane, he'd said some things that he meant to be selfless. But he didn't mean them. He meant the parts about loving her, of course. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and find her moved on with someone else. He couldn't stand to think about it. As he walked into the next checkpoint area, the range was already set up for close range firing. He riddled the target with .9mm holes and could barely wait until the attendant got the fresh sheet set to mid range before he began firing.

"How about you let me fully clear the lane before you start on the long range target, okay, Syverson?"

"Sorry, man. I'm a little…on edge today. Won't happen again."

The short, sandy-haired buck trotted out to replace the riddled sheet with one more for the long range leg, pulled it down and lacked it in to long range position, then hoofed it back up to safety, sensing the captain's impatience. Sy shot cleanly, but with cold anger, as if the silhouette on the page out there was trying to take Shane away from him. He put two square in the chest, and two in the head without hesitating.

"Man, I've never seen a long range shoot like that! What's the deal, you pissed at an ex, or something?" Sy checked the man's lapel for a name tag.

"Not exactly, Mister…Daniels."

"Call me Jack." they shook hands, and Sy chuckled, questioning.

"I'm Sy. You're name is Jack…Daniels?"

"Yes sir. No relation to the Lynchburg Daniels, unfortunately. Momma wanted to name me after her granddad, and my old man, well, he had no problem with it given his affinity for the spirit."

"A wise man, your dad. Some of my best nights have included Tennessee Number 7." He didn't elaborate, but he was getting very specific flashbacks of drinking games in his kitchen with Shane. And he was gonna have to shake it off before the weapons assembly drill, or else he'd end up putting together an assault rifle backward.

He made it through without any trouble, thank the good Lord. But that didn't mean that his mind wasn't still reeling. He was thinking of Shane and the possibility that she was being courted by Chris Evans look-alikes and young Harrison Ford doppelgangers, and it was making him furious. He was pretty sure that she was about as interested in taking a break as he was, but he couldn't help himself from making the offer under the circumstances. He kicked himself as he made his camp for the evening, not very far away from the third checkpoint, but too far away to get there by dusk when the daily deadline was. He was a shoe in to get there first in the morning, though, if he was reading his map correctly, and he was damn good at maps, if he did say so, himself. And who would bitch at him for bragging out here, anyway. The odd cricket or squirrel? He didn't think so.

It was colder tonight, and he was thankful that he thought to boil some water for his canteen and put it at his feet. He curled his surly, burly body up under the layers of blanket and thermal sheeting. He was almost warm enough…but he still needed something.

His sleep was plagued by strange dreams that he unfortunately remembered tonight. The scene began with Shane in a bright pink dress and matching gloves, dripping with diamonds, like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She looked so glamourous and beautiful, but she was getting passed from man to man to the tune of Madonna's Material Girl, which was not the correct song, and he knew it in that moment, but couldn't correct anyone, because it was all playing out on the big screen TV in his basement. When he realized this he turned it off and noticed a familiar head of hair on his lap and stroked it, about to say "Hey, sunshine." until the figure sat up and looked at him, and it was Jordan, the PTA, batting his eyelashes at him, and asking, "You ready for bed, babe?" The therapist leaned in for a kiss, but Sy leaned back, tumbled off the couch and landed on those crutches again, standing right in front of Shane in the lobby of the therapy clinic.

"Hey sunshine." he said warmly. She looked confused.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well…I should hope so…it's me. Sy."

"Sorry, not ringing any bells. I'll look you us and see who you're with, though. Usually Heather tells the new patients which therapists they get their first day. What's your last name?"

He felt like he was getting kicked in the gut with a soccer cleat worn by the Incredible Hulk. He answered with defeat.

"Sy's a nickname. Last name Syverson, first name Logan."

"Oh, there you are. Looks like Cory gets to take care of you today. I'll let him know you're ready. As long as you're all done with the secretaries?"

Sy nodded and collapsed to the floor blacking out. When he woke up, his neighbor, Mr. Stevens was standing over him, insisting it was time for him to get ready. He kept handing him things to put on. Pants, a nice shirt, a vest, a light blue tie, a jacket, nice shoes. The whole enchilada. They got out of Fred's car at a little white chapel outside which, his neighbor pinned a small boutonniere of powder blue hydrangeas to his lapel and walked in with him.

"Come on, boy. She'll be here any minute."

Sy was nervous, but excited. He was obviously marrying Shane. But he couldn't remember proposing, or planning the wedding, or an engagement party, or bachelor party, or rehearsal dinner, nothing…but none of that mattered. He heard the first notes of "Here Comes the Bride" and everything faded away, anyway. He began to cry as she got closer. She was moving slowly, he presumed out of nerves. Or perhaps she'd chosen the wrong shoes. It didn't matter. They'd dance the night away barefoot, and make love until dawn. He wished her veil wasn't so thick. He couldn't even see her bouquet. Let alone her stunning face, no doubt smiling as she cried with him. When she stood in front of him, he broke protocol and removed the veil to find Aika in a white dress on her hind legs panting, tongue lolling happily to one side.

"You may now kiss the bride." said the wizened old minister, causing Aika to knock Sy to the ground licking his face until he blacked out again.

This time, he woke to the chirping birds of a mountain morning in Virginia. His campfire long snuffed, his canteen now chilled as his blood. Those dreams…those were traumatic. He didn't want Shane to see anyone else. The thought of seeing anyone else himself repulsed him. Thinking about what his life would have been like if they'd never gotten to work together made him physically ill, and he was terrified that if he didn't act on these feelings, he'd end up with no one but his dog. Why did it take a trip out of state and all these nights of solitude to figure this out? She was all that mattered. He could dig ditches, flip burgers, get a teaching certificate and coach, or teach gym. Whatever. He also liked history. He could think of something if the people at Secure Source couldn't keep him in consistent work. It would be fine. He understood his purpose now. And it wasn't just to do his duty to his country. He'd served proudly for years. He had a new purpose now. And it was her.

He packed up camp in what he was sure was record time and hauled ass to the last checkpoint where the brass should be waiting for finishers. He was the first one there this morning, but he wasn't sure if anyone had made it yesterday. He didn't try to make small talk with the attendant today. He was on a legit mission to get back to his locker at the compound, turn his phone on and call Shane. He fired four shots, but only made two holes on the long range target. One in the chest, one in the head. The attendant was impressed, giving the highest possible grade.

"Man, Syverson. I pray I never do anything to piss you off."

Sy nodded in acknowledgement and went on to the weapons drill booths. Today, there were distracting sound effects playing on a speaker in each booth, and each one was different. Sy ignored the cacophony, pretending it was white noise, and focused on the puzzles at hand, breezing through the new weapons in better time than ever.

As his cards were being scored and turned in for review to Jane Freitag, the administrator over acquisitions and training, he got himself a cup of coffee and a doughnut, and just observed her, tactically, and objectively. She was a redhead with sharp features, freckles, and light eyes. She was slender, but dressed simply, and modestly. The consummate professional. Sy had honestly barely registered her gender, and it wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. She was. Full red lips, lashes for days, and although her clothes didn't exactly accentuate her shape, he could tell he had a decent figure. He just wasn't interested. And would never be interested in anyone but Shane again. Miss Freitag startled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Syverson." She beckoned him to the entrance to the tent near her vehicle.

He picked up his gear and coffee and trotted over to her.

"Ma'am?"

"Jane, please."

"Sy, then, for me. What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, you're the first participant across the finish line. I'm very impressed. It seems as though you almost could have finished last night."

"Yes, ma'am, if I hadn't taken a little extra time for sightseeing, I might have made it here by dusk last night. I just haven't had the hustle I had today."

"Well, that's nothing to sneer at. Normally, the deprivation of food, regular water supply, and proper sleeping conditions make participants sloppy. The opposite seems to be true for you, as you've done better at each checkpoint than the one before. Now, let's get back to the compound and get you a proper meal, and a shower, and talk about what's next for you here at Secure Source."

"Yeah, about that. Before we go much further with this, I need to know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I need to know if you'll be able to find me work near enough to St. Robert and the base there so that I don't have to relocate and travel all the time. I've got a life there, and…it's not something I can just pick up and move on a whim, and I don't want to be away for weeks and months at a time. I know I made this trip work, but I'm praying it didn't already ruin everything." He wasn't going to waste time mincing words. He needed to know right away or else this wouldn't work.

"Sy, with your talent…they're gonna want to put you on the high profile cases. Celebrity security. Concerts, movie premiers, things like that. You'll be wasted as a small town rent-a-cop." there was true concern in her face and her voice as she drove them out of the park and onto the main road to Secure Source's compound.

"If there's a need I can fill, how is that a waste? There's lots of talent in this program. Just 'cause I finished first don't mean I did it the best. And I'm sure most of these folks have the people skills to take them farther'n me. And if you wanna gimme first crack at those, I'll hear ya out. Just…let me reserve the right to turn down the out of town jobs. Especially if they're short notice. And if it takes me away from another security job, I want you to send me a replacement a few days in advance so I can meet 'em, train 'em, and introduce 'em around."

"Seems reasonable." Jane said.

"Well, alright, then. I think we got ourselves a deal. I'll shower up in the locker room real quick, then meet ya in the commissary for a sandwich so we can handle the particulars?"

"Sure, Sy." she agreed as they pulled into the parking structure.

They went their separate ways, Jane to her office, and Sy to the quartermaster to return his supplies and get the key to his locker. He practically danced there, he was so giddy to get to call Shane. He did need a quick shower first, though. Which he took, grabbing some shampoo and soap out of his travel bag. When he got back to his locker, towel around his waist, he replaced the products and grabbed his phone. He sat on the bench between the rows of lockers as it booted up.

When it did, it began alerting him as if it's life depended on it. Three text messages, three voicemails, … and twenty four missed calls. That was odd. Maybe a telemarketer had gotten his number.

He checked the texts first. One was a picture of Aika from Fred, his neighbor, the other two were from Shane…two days ago. The day he went into the park.

Hey, hope you have a great first day of Survivor: Virginia! Lol! Be safe! I love you!

OMG, nutty day today! I'm gonna be doing notes for hours! I'll text you in the morning! <3

And then nothing…he chuckled at Survivor: Virginia, but was a bit concerned. Maybe she'd decided not to waste time texting him if he wasn't going to respond? He didn't know. Maybe some of the calls or voicemails were from her. He'd check before calling.

One from his mom, one from the Stephen's house phone, and the rest were from Fort Wood Therapy. That was weird. He was discharged and didn't have any appointments…surely he wasn't missing any…Shane would have said something. He listened to the voicemails. The first one was from Heather.

"Hey, Sy, it's Heather, Shane's friend here at therapy. Hey, give me a call when you get this. Thanks."

Weird…the next one was from Susan, Shane's boss. In the same tone.

"Captain Syverson, it's Susan DeForrest here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. Please give us a call when you get this. Thank you."

Again, weird. The last one was Susan again and far less friendly and measured.

"Mr. Syverson. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you need to bring Shane back to work and stop screwing around. One or both of you is in serious trouble. Either you're being hot-lined for abduction or she's fired for not showing up for work. The choice will be hers." and the line went dead.

Sy felt his stomach twist into nauseated knots at Susan's words. Shane hadn't been to work. For how long? He had to call them. He didn't want to think about the horror that might have befallen Shane while he'd been away.

"Fort Wood Therapy Clinic, this is Heather, how may I help you?" Heather said, trying to hide the obvious worry beneath the cordial demeanor.

"Heather, it's Sy, what the hell's going on with Shane? What do you mean, she hasn't been to work, I don't…"

"Let me give you to Susan, Sy. I'm sorry." She added the last two words in a whisper. After a brief moment on hold, Susan picked up.

"So, Mr. Syverson. Finally decided to call us back?"

"Cut it out, Susan." He let her blatant ignorance of his rank slide in favor of getting to the point. "Tell me what's going on."

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. I knew letting her date a patient would come back to bite me. I should never have--"

"Shut up! This isn't about you, and it isn't because of you. And you had no right to tell Shane who she could and couldn't date, anyway. I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her. Thanks for calling me. I know your intentions weren't the best when you did, but ultimately, it worked out. I may not have found out otherwise, at least until… much later."

He hung up before she could respond. He had to talk to Jane about cutting his training short. This was all his fault. If he had just come to the realization of just how important, how vital Shane really was to him before he left…well he never would have gone in the first place. She was his life now. His world. His future, and his whole heart. Tears stung his eyes as he dressed to meet Jane in the commissary. She'd have to be okay with this. She'd have to understand.

As he got closer to the smell of fry oil, seasonings, and sizzling meat on a griddle, aromas that usually made his stomach grumble with hunger, he had to swallow back the bile that crept up his throat. He found her seated at a small round four-top, already eating a salad. He sat across from her, startling her from whatever she was reading on her phone, and again when she looked at his expression and complexion.

"Sy, what's wrong? You look downright green!"

"Listen, Jane, I'm going to have to leave training early." She scowled at him, but he was more concerned with the putrid smells of boiled egg and onion coming off her chef salad. He had to get this over with quick before he wretched in the middle of the mess hall.

"That's a big ask, Sy. Gonna have to have a reason."

"I just got a call that my girlfriend is missing. I need to go home and help find her."

"Oh…yeah, that's…that's some reason. I'm really sorry to hear that. Any leads so far?"

"No, I just got off the phone with her useless boss and all she told me was that she hasn't been to work since Monday and can't be reached on her phone. I have my suspicions, but I wanna talk to the authorities."

"Okay, well. Maybe when things calm down at home, we can set you up with some online courses like we do for our assets who need refreshers, but are on assignment. I'll approve that for you."

"Thanks," he said, gratefully, "I'm also wondering if the company has any…transportation solutions for me…of an immediate nature?"

"Man, what were your letters to Santa like as a child?"

"Oh, you know, a little red wagon, end of poverty, world peace…that kind of stuff." he grinned his most charming grin.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay, but you have to return the favor somehow, Sy."

"How about, one assignments of your choosing, no questions asked?"

"Hmmm, what about five assignments?"

"Three?" he countered.

"Done." they shook hands across the table. "I would have settled at two." she smirked.

"I would have done ten." he winked at her as he turned to retrieve his belongings from his bunk and locker. He had a plane…or perhaps a chopper to catch.

Up Next: Chapter 14: No Call No Show

#Sand Castle #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #sigh for sy

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